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krisdreaming · 3 years

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Kitty

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

― In which Kuroo finds himself just a little bit jealous of your cat

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Kind of cracky? It’s a little odd, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Heavily based on my own experiences of cat ownership. I definitely wouldn’t say I’m back to normal writing or anything, but this is an idea I’ve been working on for a few days now in short bursts, and I wanted to share it bc I enjoyed it. Also, I know the pacing is weird, let’s just agree to roll with it.

“Okay, Mittens, here we are!” You announce to the cat carrier as you step into the living room. Tetsurou is right behind you, and he steps off to the side as you carefully set the carrier on the floor. He can’t help but smile as he watches you stoop down and open the door, trying to coax the cat out into the room. He knows how long you’ve been waiting for this.

Hesitantly, the cat pokes his nose out of the carrier and looks around the strange room, then takes a few more steps to give your fingers a sniff, finally butting his head against your hand. You scratch behind his ears, eliciting a grumbling purr. After four years of only seeing your childhood cat on breaks from school, today you and Tetsurou picked Mittens up from your parents’ house. The extra weeks of searching for an apartment that allowed pets are all worthwhile just seeing the grin on your face.

“Come say hi!” You beckon suddenly, turning that smile to Tetsurou. He hesitates for half a second. He’s met Mittens several times now, but he can’t say the cat has ever had a particular affinity for him. He crosses the room anyway and crouches down, the movement causing the cat to turn from you and assess him coolly.

“Hi, Mittens, remember me?” He extends his fingers, and the cat gives them a disdainful sniff before turning and slinking off.

“He probably just wants to explore,” You chirp, jumping to your feet. “I’d better fill his food dish and make sure he knows where the litter box is!” Tetsurou nods and watches you scurry off, blissfully unaware of the affect this cat is going to have on his life.

It starts later that evening. The dinner dishes are drying, and Tetsurou wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch with you and watch mindless television. If he’s lucky, you’ll even let him lay his head on your lap and run your fingers through his hair.

The two of you settle on the couch and scroll through Netflix in search of the perfect show. When you’ve finally decided on something, Tetsurou tosses the remote on the coffee table and shifts closer to you just as Mittens jumps on the couch next to him.

“Aww, c’mere!” You pat your lap and the cat wastes no time accepting your invitation, padding across his lap to yours, kneading your thigh for a few moments before turning in a circle and curling into a neat ball. In no time, he’s purring away.

Tetsurou lets it slide for a little while, figuring the cat will soon decide to go have a bite to eat or use the litter box or whatever else it is that cats do, leaving your lap free for the taking. It’s not that he’s getting impatient or anything, but when he shifts his legs to get more comfortable, his knee brushes the cat’s back. With a startled sound, Mittens lifts his head and peers at Testurou.

“Tetsu,” You murmur, elbowing him lightly, “Careful, you’ll scare him off.” After another moment, the cat lays his head down again. He looks awfully comfortable there. Stifling a sigh, Tetsurou rests his arm on the back of the couch around your shoulders and leans his head against yours in resignation.

A few episodes later, you shift more upright and the cat stands, jumping from your lap and loping off in the direction of the litter box. “Well,” You chuckle softly, “Guess we should go to bed before he gets comfy again, huh?” You turn to Tetsurou, who immediately softens at the sight of your sleepy smile.

“Sounds good to me,” He agrees a little too quickly, getting to his feet and pulling you up, too. He presses a light kiss to your lips before turning to get ready for bed.

It’s only been a few weeks, and sharing a home with you is still new to him. Every night, he still feels a thrill of pleasant warmth just thinking of crawling into bed next to you. After a long day, there’s nothing he loves more than pulling you close and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Tonight, you lay nose to nose, chatting and giggling. Tetsurou’s hand rests on your hip, his fingers just beneath the hem of your sweatpants absently tracing against your skin. You reach out and rest your palm on his cheek, face scrunching into a grin as you lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He loops one leg across both of yours, enjoying the closeness. That is, until he hears a small meow and sees a pointy pair of ears pop up behind you. Mittens rests his front paws on your thigh, and Tetsurou isn’t quite sure what to make of the look he’s giving.

“Aw, come on, sweetheart.” You back away from Testurou, creating a pocket of space between you, and pat the mattress. With a satisfied mew, the cat settles in. Your hand has left Tetsurou’s cheek and is now resting on Mittens’ back.

“I think he’s settling in well,” You say softly, smoothing the cat’s fur. Tetsurou can only nod. “He had a chance to explore and check out the apartment, and it seems like he likes it,” You go on, a tiny smile on your face as you watch Mittens’ eyes slide shut in contentment, his purring building. “I’m glad.” At that, your eyes slide up to meet Tetsurou’s, clearly expecting him to chime in.

“Mm-hmm,” He hums. “I’m glad, too.” He is, truly. Mittens makes you happy, so that makes him happy. With time, surely Mittens will warm up to him a little more. He scoots as close to you as he dares and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead before settling in to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, he wakes up, bleary but just conscious enough to recognize that the cat is gone. As he slips back into sleep, he slides an arm around your middle and pulls you close.

The next morning, he wakes up to an empty bed. He has a vague memory of waking up just as the room began to fill with the first light and looking over to see Mittens pawing at your arm. You must’ve gotten up to tend to him.

As he slides out of bed, he can just make out the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the kitchen. Following his nose, he makes his way down the hall. He can hear you shuffling around and clanking dishes in the kitchen. That sound is all too familiar - maybe you’ve gotten a head start on breakfast.

He thinks you must hear him coming down the hall, because you start talking. “Who’s hungry? Hmm? Are we ready for breakfast?” Tetsurou all but bursts into the kitchen, half-expecting a spread of pancakes and bacon all ready for him. Instead, he’s greeted by you, scraping the last of a tin of paté onto a small dish while Mittens watches, already licking his chops. You stand back with a satisfied hum, watching as the cat hungrily descends on the meal. Despite himself, Testurou feels himself deflating.

“Hey Tetsu, you’re up! Wanna have something quick for breakfast before we go grocery shopping? I think there’s some cereal left in the cupboard. Or toast, if you’d rather.” You reach for your coffee mug and peer at him over the rim, waiting for his response.

“I’ll have the cereal, unless you want it,” He says finally, reaching for the refrigerator handle.

“All yours!” You say brightly, then take a sip of your coffee. He pulls a mug from the cupboard and lazily sloshes coffee inside. “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You ask then, eying him critically.

“Nope,” He manages a grin. “I’m fine, I promise.” You nod, but something in your expression says you’re not quite convinced. To his relief, you let it go at that.

That afternoon, Tetsurou is in the bedroom looking through his unpacked boxes one last time. In the shuffle of the move, it seems he’d gathered up some of Kenma’s things by mistake, and Kenma has been after him to return them. He’s collected a small box of things he’s come across that belong to his friend, and this afternoon he’s planning to drop them off. When he hears you call, he moves to the doorway to listen.

“Come on, where are you hiding?” Your voice is muffled. You must be across the apartment.

“Babe,” He calls back, “I’m in the bedroom.”

“Come out, handsome boy!” He’s taken aback by the unusual pet name, but he shakes his head. You mustn’t have been able to hear him.

“Babe,” He says again as he makes his way down the hall. “I’m-” He stops short when he finds you in the living room, on your hands and knees peering under the couch. “You’re looking for the cat,” He says, shuffling a few steps backwards hoping the doorway would be so kind as to swallow him up.

You laugh. “Totally looking for the cat,” You confirm with a chuckle, “He’s got a vet appointment this afternoon, remember? Somehow he always knows.” You stand up and go to check the kitchen, and just when he thinks he’s in the clear, you turn back with a smirk. “Don’t worry, you’re my handsome boy, too.”

“Shut up,” He ducks away, but you still manage to reach up and pat his cheek, chuckling as you walk past.

“Anyway, you’re leaving soon, right? Have fun at Kenma’s,” You call over your shoulder as you continue your search. He goes back to the bedroom to grab the box of Kenma’s stuff and catches Mittens slinking out from under the bed.

“Good luck, bro,” He says as he watches the cat slip out of the room and down the hall. Judging by the direction he’s headed, he’ll be intercepted soon enough. “See you later!” He calls out, shutting the door behind him just as he hears your cry of success.

Sitting in Kenma’s living room, the conversation inevitably swings around to the events of the past few days. A polite question from Kenma leads to Tetsurou telling Kenma the entire events of the past 24 hours. If nothing else, he’s sure his friend will find it amusing.

When he realizes Tetsurou’s finished talking, Kenma lowers his phone, fixing his piercing gaze on Tetsurou. His lips tilt upwards in a slight smile before he says, “You’re jealous of the cat.”

Inhaling a sharp gasp, Tetsurou frowns. “I’m not jealous of the cat,” He rebuffs quickly. It’s absurd. Kenma raises an eyebrow. Okay, maybe he’s a tiny bit jealous of the cat. But is he going to admit it? Never.

“You’ll work it out.” Kenma assures him, the slightest hint of a chuckle in his tone. Tetsurou sighs. Some day maybe he’ll learn not to be surprised by Kenma’s astuteness.

he thinks it over on the way home. He just needs to get used to it, he decides. He’s never had a cat before. He’s gotten used to it being just the two of you. He and Mittens will get used to each other with time. Ridiculous as it sounds even in his head, he’ll learn to “share” you with the cat.

When he gets home, he finds you in the kitchen. “How’d the vet go?” He asks, glancing around. Mittens is nowhere in sight. He sidles up next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder. You lean into his touch, he notices with satisfaction.

“It went well. He’s staying healthy, even for an older cat.” You run your fingers down Tetsurou’s arm in a soothing motion.

“That’s good,” Tetsurou murmurs. As if he senses you’re talking about him, Mittens walks into the room and then heads to his water fountain for a drink. You don’t miss Testurou’s eyes following him.

“You and Mittens aren’t so different, you know,” You giggle. Testurou narrows his eyes at the cat, who shifts onto his haunches and levelly returns the stare. “You both think you’re being cool, but you just want my attention.”

“Pfft.” He waves his hand as though brushing off the idea.

“Don’t play coy with me,” You insist, and Tetsurou sheepishly meets your gaze. “You two are going to love each other soon,” You say confidently. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of attention for both of my handsome boys.” You giggle.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” He sighs.

“Nope.” You pull him in for a kiss, lips curling up into a smile against his. “Come on, let’s go watch some TV,” You say, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a tug. “I’ll play with your hair,” You promise, shooting him an all-too-knowing grin. Now, that he can’t say no to. As you lead him out of the kitchen, he shoots one last smug glance in Mittens’ direction.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu imagines #Haikyuu fluff #Haikyuu x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #Kuroo x reader

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andrea-lyn · 3 years

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The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there!

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend.

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way

Sundering by romancandles

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies ([email protected])

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

(TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends.

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

#recs #fic recs #recs project #star trek recs #inception recs #the raven cycle recs #the old guard recs #roswell new mexico recs

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Note

Hello! I recently read your azul's ficlet and i'm close to crying at how beautiful it is (its 4am emo hours). If its okay, may I request a ficlet of Jade with a gn!reader with the word 'sleep' or 'rest' (pick whichever suits better!). Thank you in advance! 💖

CW: Spoilers for the movie Your Name (Kimi no na wa), character death, body switching, angst with a happy ending, and slow burn (sort of)

Feedback in greatly appreciated!

Thank you to @opalmaplehibiscus , @jellyfishstuckinwonderland , and @raven-at-the-writing-desk for the input in the making of this fic. I greatly appreciate your help.

The Possibilities are Endless

“My name is..”

“Please remember me...!”

The crowds on the train pushed them apart, a braided bracelet was tossed towards Jade. A lifeline connecting both of them together, a connection between two souls; the face of one that was desperate to keep holding on, they yelled one last time just as the doors of the train closed and their grip on the bracelet wrap loosened.

“My name is—!”

Jade opened his eyes and he was in his room, his very dark room. To his side was his closet and to the other a white wall. The sound of bubbling water churned behind the window of his dorm room and with one slow blink, he pulled himself up and hunched over.

The same dream, the same voice, the same bracelet tossed to him.

He craned his head to his lamp stand where the colorful wrap lay next to his earring, he doesn’t remember where he got it nor does he remember why he wanted to keep it for so long. He took the bracelet and looked at it and thought back to the voice in his dream.

“Please remember me...!”

Pushing himself off he moved to the mirror to fix his appearance, with his brush and hair gel in hand he let out a gasp when the lights of vanity shined light on a note. A note written on his cheek with a marker, a message he didn’t remember writing.

“Who are you?”

It was during breakfast that Jade began to notice the strange happenings around him, how Azul asked if he was feeling better or how Floyd said he was wearing his earring again. “What do you mean,” Jade questioned. “I always wear it.”

“You weren’t yesterday. And you looked so lost like some little guppy, you even forget how to get to class yesterday morning.” Floyd complained, eating his breakfast with a huff. “Was it a prank? Cuz’ you got me good.”

What was he doing yesterday?

He woke up, went to school...No. That wasn’t what happened. He didn’t recall anything from the previous day. In fact, he remembered being at a different place.

In a city full of buildings and faraway from the sea, the familiar smell of white roses, the smile of an unfamiliar fellow and a bento box he had no recollection of him cooking or making.

His uniform wasn’t black but a cream with a tint of yellow, his magical pen was nowhere to be seen and was instead replaced with a pen nib brooch. He touches his cheek, remembering the message written on his cheek. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, you gotta tell me.” Floyd pestered, his arm over Jade’s neck “Was it a prank?”

“Perhaps.” The twins laughed, Floyd pulling close but in his mind he thought of the message, his incapability to remember the previous day. He needed more answers but only questions filled his head.

His notes were a mess and full of sketches. There were sketches of Night Raven’s facade and the students, his classmates. A slew of messy messages on paper, the handwriting worrying as if the person writing was stressed beyond belief.

“The uniforms are black, the gems are pens.”

“Nothing but roses for miles.”

“Wishing well???”

“Where am I?”

“Mr Leech, please read the next line.”

“Yes, sir.”

Trein’s brow raised and he blinked. “Well, today you actually remember your name. Perhaps you were just feeling ill.” A hum of laughter passed through the class. “And your hair is fixed as well; I was beginning to think you and your brother switched places when you came into class with a messy bed head.”

Jade blinked, tilting his head. “I...see. I’ll make sure to not make that mistake again, professor.”

“Good. Continue on reading.”

“Magic transcends all meaning when twilight occurs, when the sun and the moon share the sky for a single moment.” Trein explained, using a magical pointer. “The word twilight means ‘half-light’ when the light of the sun glows and causes refraction in the atmosphere and signaling the end of the morning and welcoming of night or visa versa. At times like this does magic become unpredictable and free-forming and when realities begin to overlap each other for the time twilight occurs. This was used to the advantage of the earliest magician in recorded history.”

Trein faced his students. “Nowadays, these times of day are known as dusk and dawn as the world twilight has fallen out of favor in recent years.”

“It’s probably because of that one book.” A student yelled from the rows behind and Trein nodded his head. “Ah, yes, ten years ago was an odd time for the word ‘twilight’.” Trein blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Who would have thought the human body produced so much diamonds but that is beside the point.” The bell rang and the students began taking their books. “Be sure to read up on your lesson today, we will be having a quiz tomorrow on the topic.”

Jade stayed in his seat for some time and stared at the diagram on the board.

Twilight.

In the back of his mind, a flash of a memory comes to him. He remembers a train stopping by and the droves of people coming in and out. Jade was alone that time, buying something some seeds or fungi. The sun was setting at the time, the yellow sun turning orange and the sky dimming to a nightly violet.

“Jade.”

He didn’t know the person who called out his name nor did he remember what they looked like but he did remember the smile they had, as if they were looking for him for a long time, it was a face relief.

“It’s me.”

He didn’t know who this person was nor did he ever remember their face and yet, at that instant he seemed to have known them his entire life. In his heart was a feeling of warmth, of glee, of content and relief; he was confused by it all. A strike of panic pierced his heart when that smile turned into a confused and upset frown. “You don’t...remember me..?”

The next stop came and people began filing out, pushing the two of them away from each other. “Jade, please remember me!” They said as they were pushed out by the crowd. Reaching up, they pulled the braided tie from their hair and threw it out of him. “Please remember me..!”

He caught the braided tie just as the other let go and doors began to close.

“My name is—!”

“Is there something wrong, Mr Leech?” He blinked, looking to Trein with confusion. He had missed the door and stood by the wall of the classroom. “Ah—I’m sorry.” There was a hissy laugh from Lucius as Trein set him down on the table to collect his papers. “You seem to be in deep thought, is there something on your mind?”

“No, professor, I was just thinking about our topic today.” Jade lied through his teeth and Trein took it with a huff. “I know twilight is a regular phenomenon but I didn’t know that it was an important time of day for mages and magicians.” A nod came from his professor. “Many people nowadays don’t see its importance as magical materials and magic itself have grown and changed over time. With the new technology and the new breakthroughs we have, the archaic practices of the past have since then been abandoned.”

Trein looked to the window and Jade followed his gaze, the sun began to set and the color of orange and violet painted the sky. “Twilight has begun.” Picking up his beloved cat, Trein stretched his back and moved to face the student in front of him. “It’s best to get back to your dorm, you might miss the curfew.”

“Professor, have you ever experienced anything during twilight? Like the way you’ve explained it during class?” Jade asked suddenly, his professor’s eyes widened then looking to the side to think for a moment. “I have but they were more of dreams than the otherworldly claims of recording happenings. I would often see myself in another person’s shoes, seeing a world I did not know about, it wasn’t a pleasant experience but...It was interesting, for a dream at least.”

“I see. Thank you very much, professor. I’ll be on my way.”

He stared at his messy notebook unblinking, the messy handwriting and the sketches were foreign to him. He drew a few doodles but he never put any detail to it nor was he able to do sketches of his peers in movement.

“Where am I?”

Taking his pen, Jade wrote a message. What had happened to him wasn’t a dream, he knew that and he knew that what he was about to do wasn’t a sure fire guarantee that whoever wrote this will see it but the unpredictability of the situation allowed him to push through with an eagerness to see the end results.

“You are in Night Raven College. My name is Jade.”

The night loomed over the dorm, the once blue waters a dark purple and tinge of black. Twilight has ended. Jade closes his eyes for a moment and sighed, thinking back about the lesson and to the confused glances of his peers.

“Please remember me...!” The voice begged, the image of a braided bracelet flowing through the air as it flew towards him. Tugging his sleeve, the bracelet was wrapped around his wrist snugly; its design was simple and bright mix of blue, yellow, and red.

“Please remember me...!”

Jade tugs his sleeves back down, only stepping out of to his bed when he felt tired. The bracelet was removed from his wrist and sat next to him.

“My name is—!”

The voice echoed through his mind, he felt that he should remember it, he felt like he should know who it was, and all he felt was frustration and eagerness to see this unpredictable situation through. He closed his eyes wanting to rest his eyes rather than sleep.

“So this is what Night Raven College looks like. It’s very pretty, your uniforms are very pretty too but I’m not used to the environment there. It’s probably because of the walls or the silence.”

It had been a few days since the messaging through the notebook began with Jade and his pen pal, of sorts. It seemed that his new pen pal had been observing weird happenings to them too. Their classmates telling them of their weird behaviors, one time all they ate were mushrooms.

“I don’t even like mushrooms and because of you I ate a whole lot of them in just one day!”

It seemed that his odd dreams of seeing another world unlike his own weren’t dreams after all. The white and yellow uniforms, the sweet smell of lilies, and the pen nib brooch all pointed to Royal Swords Academy. Apparently the person he switched bodies with studied there.

“And I was told that I ate eel for lunch and it upset my brother. It seems both of us are even on this regard.”

He always wrote messages on his notebook the moment he got home and he preferred it that way rather than waking up to writings on his face and arms. The marker ink was hard to wash off, even with large amounts of sudsy soaps.

“We have a notebook to communicate for a reason, please use that.”

“I like writing on your hand, Jade.”

There were moments that he expressed frustration with them, even anger but that soon dissipated into childish antics of messages written on skin, eating disgusting foods they came to like, and a bond that transcended physical reality. They were from two different worlds and yet, here they were being friends.

All this was just like a dream to him.

“Hey, about that braided bracelet...Where did you get it? I had one just like it before it disappeared; I used to wear it on my hair.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that. It just came with me, I suppose. I couldn’t part with it for some reason so I’ve been wearing it ever since.”

“I guess we just so happened to have the same braided tie, huh? Hehehe!”

After class, Jade went to experience the twilight hour for once and see the students filter out of school and run about. It was the end of the week and it was a time for fun, brooms flew overhead and magical swirls of dust were thrown about by fun-loving students.

“What I like about your school is that none of you are afraid to get dirty and have fun.” He remembered his pen pal writing. “I love RSA but the uniforms and the rules we live by stop us from having fun like all of you there in NRC.”

He couldn’t blame them, RSA had some rules to go by and the uniforms really stopped them from having fun too. The chaos that he saw in RSA wasn’t like those in NRC, not by a long shot but he could see the charm it had in it despite the difference in school life.

Jade wanted them to experience this first hand one day. In their own body, of course.

He went back to his room when the sun had disappeared and the moon stood in its place. Sitting by the notebook, he took his magical pen from his pocket and began writing his response to his pen pal’s recent message.

“RSA has beautiful scenery, there’s no doubt about it. It’s a nice change of pace from the gothic feel NRC has, I find it rather peaceful. Though the sudden music lessons do tend to throw me off but that is something I will eventually come to get used to.

He tapped his pen on his desk, humming at his short reply. He looked at his wrist; the braid coiled around his wrist and was vibrant under the yellow light of his lamp. Unlike them, he never really gave hints of what his school life was about nor did he give details of what it was like to spend a day in RSA.

“We had a lesson about the magical phenomena known as Twilight. Apparently around that time, magic becomes different and realities begin to overlap...Do you think that’s what’s causing us to switch bodies?”

“Twilight...I’ve heard of that phenomenon too! It actually makes sense, maybe that’s what's causing it but if it’s really true then that’s some real strong magic!”

Jade slept that late that night, the braided tie next to his forehead. For once, he didn’t dream of the train station but of a hand coming up to take his own. No, it wasn’t his hand, it was his pen pal’s hand, and it grasped softly then tugged for him to follow.

He was on a mountain, the sky glittering with millions upon millions of stars. It was a beautiful sight, his eyes widening as the stars grew closer and closer, the heat around him rising and rising; burning his skin and singing his hair. The world around him was destroyed and the last thing he heard was the terrified scream of someone he was beginning to hold dear.

He awoke with a gasp, his eyes tearful and his lungs out of breath. Next to him were a concerned Azul and his brother Floyd. “We could hear you gasping from the hallway.” Azul explained but Jade kicked off his covers and ran to his desk, his notebook, their means of communication was empty. The messages he had collected with them were gone and only his own remained.

His brother tugged at his shoulder. “Look at me.” He was whirled around, their foreheads touching. “Breathe. You’re gonna give yourself an attack if you don’t breathe.”

He closed his eyes, leaning against his brother to breathe harshly. A pair of hands pats his back, Azul’s and Floyd’s, in an act of comfort but none of their touches reached Jade. He was too confused, too shaken up, too anxious. “It was just a bad dream.”

A dream...

What he had seen in the eyes of his pen pal was all a dream...?

Pen pal?

“It’s best that you get some more rest.” Azul said, pulling Jade back to his bed. “I’ll explain to the teachers what happened to you.” Floyd nudged him down and pulled the covers up until his brother’s chin. “We need you well rested, Jade. We’ll have the others check on you every once in a while.”

He forced himself to breathe slowly and carefully, his eyes screwed shut and thoughts in a whirlwind. His memories scrambling and confusing, he tries to remember the train station, the lake that was on RSA’s sloping hills and the falling meteorite.

Had there been a meteor shower? There was no news of it, no indication.

A hand caressed his head, shushing his sounds to silence.

“Sleep, Jade.”

The next day, Jade spent all his time in the library with books about stars and meteors and sleep being the furthest thing from his mind. He poured through the articles about meteor showers, checking online news sites, and pouring through scientific documents.

Nothing.

No recent reports of a meteor shower anywhere near the area of RSA or NRC.

A frustrated sigh left Jade’s lips and he held his head with a huff, burying his fingers into his hair when a fluffy tail rubbed and pawed against his arm. “Good to see you’re up and about, Mr Leech.” Trein stood over him as Lucius stepped over the articles to sit on one of the books.

“I didn’t know you were taking a liking to astronomy.” The professor commented, taking an article and reading through it. “Meteor showers, eh? I haven’t seen those for some time. The last one was beautiful but also very tragic.”

“What do you mean, professor?” Jade stared up at his teacher, slightly surprised.

“You weren’t in NRC at the time this happened but there was a meteor shower that passed by Twisted Wonderland, it was a festive time...But that soon became a tragedy when a fragment broke off from one of the passing meteorites.” He sighed, closing his eyes and setting the paper down. “Though NRC and RSA have been rivals for a long time, I can’t bear to think such a catastrophic event would happen to them.”

His heart skipped a beat, eyes wide in surprise. “You mean to say...”

“A meteorite fragment fell on RSA three years ago, specifically on the field just outside the school where some students were watching the shower. Those poor children...”

The white crystal of his magical pen glowed bright and Jade pushed himself off his chair, figure hunched forward and head hung low. Lucius let out a meow as he scrambled away from the student. “Mr Leech, what are you doing?” Trein demanded but his voice fell on deaf ears, Jade remembers his last dream, the last time he switched bodies. He remembers the falling meteorite, the scream that wasn’t his own, he remembers them.

His pen pal.

In a burst of magic, Jade disappeared from his position leaving a scared Lucius and a confused and upset Mozus Trein.

The landscape around him was heavy, the crater left by the meteorite was massive and no traces of life were seen within the impact zone. The memory of the meteorite fragment falling right on top of his pen pal, killing them instantly played again and again in his head. Jade, normally so aloof and calm, fell to his knees.

They died.

They died where he stood.

For the first time in a long while, Jade screamed his heart out. A wail of agony loud enough to echo through the empty void that was essentially his pen pal resting place. He sunk to his knees and continued crying until his throat became hoarse and painful.

He laid on his side as the sun went down, the braided tie peeked out of his blazer.

“Please remember me—!”

The train station...Was that a dream too? What had he been doing when he was in there? What was he there for?

Who was calling out his name.

“Jade...?”

The sun set over him, the sky turning orange and violet. It was twilight hour.

“Jade..”

“Jade.”

There was a touch to his shoulder and a soft shake. His head turned, his eyes widened. A student from RSA stood over him. They smelled of white lilies, uniform a mix of white and yellow, and their magical crystal a pen nib brooch. There was a familiar gleam in their eyes, a smile he came to know from the many days they had switched bodies.

His pen pal smiled at him, offering their hand for him to take. “It’s really you, Jade. It’s actually you.”

They laughed, pulling Jade into a hug; his tall figure dwarfing them easily as they hugged his chest. Jade sighed, returning the hug soon after and rocking each other back and forth for a few moments the sun shined in the horizon.

“I thought I lost you, y’know?” They said, looking up at him. “I just...I suddenly couldn’t reach you.”

“I thought you had died. I saw the meteor fall on you.”

They looked at each other for a moment and a laugh was shared, their foreheads linked together soon after. “I know but...somehow, maybe...I don’t really know what happened to me. I just couldn’t reach you to tell you what happened on that day. I nearly forgot about you and I cried for days wondering why.”

Pulling away, they looked down to Jade’s wrist. “Hey, that bracelet...”

“You gave it to me in the train station.”

It was all coming back to him now. This person, his pen pal, was someone he held dear for a long time.

He felt comfort.

“Oh yeah! I did, didn’t I?”

“Do you want it back?”

“No. Keep it.”

The two held hands for some time but were immediately thwarted by them pulling out a marker. “Hey, why don’t we write our names? That way, if we ever forget each other there’ll always be a reminder. Ah, but I don’t have any paper with me...”

Jade offered his palm, his smile teasing and knowing. “You always liked writing on my skin.”

They shared another laugh and the marker’s cap was pulled off, Jade looking over the horizon as they wrote their name on his palm. “Your turn.”

He took the pen from them and as soon as he wrote the starting strokes of his name, the marker fell from his grasp.

The twilight hour had ended and the moon took over the sky.

“Eh...? What am I...doing...?”

Jade was found by his peers not long after, taking him in and letting him rest as they descended the crater near RSA. Mozus Trein was their chaperone, explaining to the staff of the rival school and covering his own students.

“Someone he knew died here,” He explained, looking at Jade being covered with a blanket by his brother. Jade’s eyes were closed and he leaned against him, clearly exhausted from the ordeal and exposure to the elements.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, professor.” Said one RSA’s employees, brows upturned and frowning deep. “The meteorite crash was a very tragic event for all schools. I can’t imagine how much grief that young boy has gone through knowing that a friend of his died that day.”

“I hope you can look the other way on this. I know we shouldn’t come into each other’s premises without proper—“

“It’s quite alright. I’ll explain the situation to the headmaster once everything has settled.”

Floyd pulled his brother to his chest and stood up, Azul placing a hand on his back.

“Let’s go home, Jade.”

Jade wasn’t alone that night, Floyd and Azul wouldn’t allow him to be alone. They slept next to him, keeping him company but while the two slept, he couldn’t. The moon shone against his window and gave his room a very soft blue glow. He raised his hand to his face, the message from someone he held dear was still visible but slightly smudged.

“Thank you.”

Bitterness rose in his chest and to his throat, his brows furrowed in frustration. The tears forming stung his eyes.

“You idiot,” he brought his palm to his face, sniffling. “I can’t remember you this way.”

A year had passed and the dreams stopped coming after that night. Jade had picked up the habit of sitting outside during twilight hour, watching the set and holding the bracelet that never left his wrist for more than a second. He wore it everywhere he went but when asked; he never had a proper reason for it.

“I feel complete wearing it.”

The yearly magical shift festival brought troves of customers and onlookers, Jade and his brother sat on a bench and let their legs rest after a long day. “I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want anything?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll buy some myself.”

“’Kay.”

Jade was left alone after that and he closed his eyes for a moment, his nose taking in the different smells of food and perfumes.

There was a familiar smell of white lilies.

“Excuse me.”

A person stood in front of him, holding a brochure. They were a uniform of white and yellow and a pen nib brooch. They smiled at him and familiar warmth bloomed in his chest. “I don’t mean to disturb you or anything.”

Their smile was sheepish but it felt as if he’d seen it somewhere before.

“Do we know each other by any chance?”

“I think so.” Jade’s smile was easy and suddenly their eyes began to water. “I had a feeling we did.”

“Hey,” Jade reached over and intertwined their hands, the bracelet’s colors were vibrant against his skin and theirs.

“May I…”

“Can I…”

“...Know your name?”

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader #jade leech #twst jade leech #twst jade x reader #angst #jade ficlets #this took me so long to write oml #twst #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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peachyteez · 4 years

Text

death’s grip ≫ DAY FIVE, YES.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminbluee, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @deep-ocean-dweller, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: perhaps i kinda teared up while typing this up...

✧ WARNINGS: mentions of killing, death, and blood

back。| next。

“what do you mean, you know?” jiyu asked. she definitely isn’t expecting the news this early in the morning.

“they told me yesterday,” hongjoong explained. “how i almost...died.”

jiyu didn’t say anything, only letting out a small sigh before dryly chuckling. “that would explain why they were so nice yesterday at home.” she did find it strange how seonghwa and yunho were so behaving and nice when they came home the previous evening.

sensing her shift in mood, hongjoong worried that they had upset her and that the two could end up getting punished because of him. “wait, please don’t punish them—”

jiyu’s eyes widened at his words and she put her hands up in front of her. “woah, woah, woah, it’s okay, hongjoong. i’m not mad nor am i going to punish them,” she reassured. she softly smiled. “they didn't do anything wrong. i was actually trying to find a way and time to tell you without upsetting you, but i guess they beat me to that.”

hongjoong shifted his gaze out to the window. “you, know...they helped me open my eyes a little,” he meekly admitted. intrigued by his words, jiyu took a seat on the chair next to the bed. “i don’t know what they went through, but they seemed to have put their faith in you. i’ll be honest, at first, i didn’t know why—why trust humans again when all they’ve done is inflict both mental and physical pain on you? but...they seemed so earnest to defend you when i asked why you never told me i almost died.”

jiyu intently listened.

“and surprisingly enough, i couldn’t be mad at you for keeping that from me. even though i thought you were trying to defend my former owners by keeping my potential death a secret. i think deep down, i had unconsciously given you my trust a long time ago. i was just too prideful to admit or acknowledge it.”

jiyu licked her lips before carefully explaining her intentions. “you had just woken up a few days ago and i didn't want to suddenly drop the bomb on you that you were literally teetering between life and death. you could’ve gotten too emotional to think rationally and hurt yourself and others on accident...that’s why i kept it,” she slowly reached up and gently rested her hand on his head. he didn't flinch away. “but i guess, in a way, i was trying to defend humans, too. it would’ve been hypocritical of me to tell you that you almost died from humans when i’ve been telling you that there’s good ones out there,” she wryly smiled.

“but never forget. i always had your well-being in mind, hongjoong. i never had reasons to hurt or go against you.”

hearing her confession, along with relief, hongjoong felt a small tug of guilt in his gut. he never told her who he was or where he came from. his presence in her life could be a danger, yet he never said anything.

he took a deep breath before looking into her eyes. “i used to be part of an illegal hybrid ring fighting group.”

jiyu’s eyes widened again. searching his face for any signs of a joke, she found none. but she did notice his hesitance on continuing. “you don’t have to—”

“no...i think you should know,” he insisted before taking a deep breath. “i was part of the...blood pirates.”

jiyu could’ve sworn she almost fainted right there and then. blood pirates? that one illegal organization that never got caught? the one that illegally collected hybrids for their fights? she had so many questions. how did he escape? where were the blood pirates based?

hongjoong told her everything. “my parents were also part of the blood pirates. but there was a catch...i had to kill them as my final test for my training. i had to kill them...or they would kill all three of us.”

jiyu gasped in horror. hongjoong took a deep breath and continued. “after that, i locked all my emotions away. i lost touch with myself and i just...killed. i killed one after the other with no remorse. i thought that’s how life worked—only the strongest could survive, and that’s how i managed to survive for the past who knows how many years,” his ears drooped in sadness at recalling such chilling memories. “i hated it. the chanting and cheers of the crowd, the look of my opponent’s face right before the life slipped out of their eyes, how my hands were stained red after—” his voice broke with emotion. peering over at his face, jiyu realized he was holding in his sobs.

“i didn’t want to kill them...” he whimpered, staring down at his hands. hands that had once been stained with the blood of his opponents as he fought for his life. “i just fought to live. to see the sunrise the next day. but then i remember that they couldn’t; they couldn’t see the sunrise like i could. they weren't in the basement with me anymore. instead, they come back in my dreams, and i hear their voices haunting me. i’m a monster. a killer.”

listening to hongjoong and watching him bring his knees up to his chest as he cried, her heart broke. no one should have to go through that. no one should have to fight just to see the next day...no hybrid should ever have to live in fear and constantly think that today might be their last. nor should they ever have to think they were a monster.

before he could react, she stood up and wrapped her arms around him. she rested her chin on his head and comfortingly pat his shoulder. she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he must’ve been surprised with how he had tensed up.

“you’re not a monster, hongjoong. you did what you had to do to live. anyone would've done that,” she reassured. “it’s in our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. life’s precious, you only get one chance. and i’m sure your...opponents knew, too. it’s not your fault, hongjoong. you’re not a monster or a killer. the guilt you feel for having to take their life—that just shows that you have a heart, feelings,” she peered down at his glossy eyes. “have you ever considered that they might’ve come back to watch over you? rather than haunt you?”

by that point, even jiyu was crying. crying at the thought of how the tiger hybrid had endured so much pain by himself. he had no one by his side to help him. the other hybrids with him had the same goal. to live. befriending each other would’ve made them too emotionally attached to each other to kill.

feeling her tears land on his cheek, it only prompted his unshed ones to fall. he buried his head in her neck and cried. cried out all of the tears he had for the ones he killed, cried out the despair and hopelessness he’s felt ever since he was old enough to process the world around him. but most importantly, cried at the thought of being finally being safe and away from the bloody, heartless world he came from.

she held him close. despite being an adult, he seemed so small, so childlike as he hugged her and cried. rocking him from side-to-side, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and whispered comforting words to him. “they’re in a better place, joong. i promise. they’re free from the pain.”

feeling his body shake in her arms from his sobs, it took every ounce of strength for her to not sob along with him. she had to stay strong. she had to keep him grounded. a while had passed; hongjoong’s cries filling the room with jiyu comforting him.

she suddenly stopped combing through his hair. “would you like to come home with me?”

hongjoong pulled away from her at the question. “w-what?” he sniffled.

she grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and gently dabbed his tears away. “i know it’s sudden...but would you like to come live with us three?” she asked. “i’m not forcing you to, it’s a hundred percent your decision. i just realized you don’t have anywhere to go after you’re discharged here.”

hongjoong blinked, slowly processing her offer. his heart raced with happiness. he wanted nothing more than to spend his days in her safe presence, to spend his days getting to know seonghwa and yunho. but deep down, he felt something holding him back.

“b-but the blood p-pirates...” he managed to stutter out. he was terrified of what could happen if they found him again. he didn’t want to endanger three innocent people just because he was selfish and wanted to experience heaven for a while longer.

“don’t worry about them. if they ever show up, i have a lot of connections,” she smiled, a mysterious hint to it. hongjoong grew curious. connections? what kind? who was she?

“besides, if you were alone in the forest that day, they probably presumed you were dead,” she reasoned. “bottom line is...you’ll be safe with me, hongjoong. with us; me, seonghwa, and yunho. i swear on my life. so...what’s your answer?”

hongjoong stared deep into her eyes, trying to find signs of uncertainty—heck, he was even waiting for her to say it was a joke and that she would never adopt him for who he was. but she didn't. she stared back; an unwavering and determined expression. she was dead serious.

was he ready to start a new life? was he ready to leave his old life behind and start again from scratch with a new family? does he deserve this second chance after all the lives he’s taken?

suddenly, a little voice, as clear as day, rang next to his ear. yes. all of a sudden, it was like every fiber of his being and soul was pushing him to accept. feeling a slight breeze blow past him, he felt at ease. maybe jiyu was right; they were watching out for him, looking over him despite their tragic ending by his own hands.

“hm, where did that breeze come from?” jiyu frowned, seeing that the window was still closed. she looked back down to the hybrid on the bed in front of her before smiling and extending her hand towards him. “so? will you join us?”

with his ears perking up with a newfound burst of energy and his tail waving around with anticipation at his new future, he slowly reached out with his own hand and clasped her’s. “yes.”

she grinned. “well, seonghwa and yunho will definitely be excited as i am about you joining our family.”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong imagines #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #ateez hongjoong #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

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yukipri · 4 years

Text

On the Baratie, Part 4 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Fourth part of the Baratie story!

This concludes the part on the Baratie, but there’ll be a 5th and final Epilogue part after this!

Warnings for: minor Sanji x Luffy, Thatch x Luffy, hint of bg Ace x Luffy

Continues off of past parts!

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 1

👒🐟On the Baratie, Prologue

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 2

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 3

In the calm after the battle, after Luffy's been bandaged up by Deuce, Sanji tells Luffy about his dream, about All Blue, and she listens with eyes that sparkle brighter than even the gleaming jewels in her tail.

"You'll find it," she says. "Come with us."

She's amazing, Sanji thinks. Luffy is far more amazing than he could have ever imagined when he first saw her. Because she isn't just the most beautiful woman he's ever met, nor is she just the embodiment of every sailor's most fervent fantasies come to life. She's strength, she's determination, she's conviction.

She's going to become the Pirate King.

And Sanji thinks maybe, maybe he could follow someone like that.

"Not bad," a voice says from behind them, and Sanji spins, because he hadn't sensed the man joining what he thought had been a private conversation with Luffy.

Sanji flushes, because he knows Ace doesn't have a good impression of him. Sanji grits his teeth and braces himself for the mocking to come, because it always does when he says he wants to find the sea that's more myth than destination for most. Even if Luffy didn't, that doesn't mean her co-captain won't.

Except he doesn't, and Ace slowly smiles, and he looks...strangely gentle. "You'll do," he says, before turning around and disappearing back inside.

He hadn't even bothered to warn Sanji about his proximity to Luffy.

The next person Sanji talks to is Thatch, who's helping clean up the kitchen after the fight outside had shaken everything out of place. Sanji finds the man with a mop, complementing some blushing cooks on the care they've put into maintaining their work stations.

"Hey, you...Thatch, was it?"

Sanji still doesn't know how to act around the man. He doesn't feel intimidating, not like Ace does, and it's hard to believe that this seemingly ordinary stranger created the insane food Sanji had tasted before Krieg had come.

"Oh, Zeff's kid, what's up?" Thatch passes the mop off to another cook, and leans against a counter, looking perfectly at home despite this being the Baratie's kitchen.

Sanji doesn't bother correcting him. It feels nice, being called Zeff's kid, he thinks. Much nicer than being called that man's child. He likes it.

"Your cooking...it was incredible," Sanji manages. Awkward, he thinks, awkward, and utterly insufficient in describing it.

"Aww, glad you liked it," Thatch says with a bashful little grin, as though he hadn't effortlessly created the best food Sanji's ever had in his life. And maybe to him, it really was nothing. Sanji feels more respect than bitterness.

"You like Luffy," are the next words out of Sanji's mouth, and he winces because he hadn't meant to say that, but it's a love letter, had crossed his mind again.

Thatch's eyebrows go up. "Well, yeah? How could anyone not love Seastar? Or do you mean..." Thatch laughs then, but it's not at all mocking, just incredulous. "Wait, is that what you got out of my cooking?"

"Am I wrong?" Sanji shouldn't feel so defensive, but he does. This man loves the girl who's stolen Sanji's heart, and at the moment, Sanji knows he's not even competition. The least Thatch can do is admit it.

"Mmm...I suppose you aren't," Thatch concedes, "but if that's all you got from it, you can dig a lil deeper."

Sanji frowns. He doesn't think he read wrong, and he had sensed love love Love. But he also doesn't think Thatch would lie.

"Could I learn how?" Sanji doesn't just mean tasting, and he knows Thatch knows, and also hears the unsaid from you.

Thatch smiles.

Zeff and the other Baratie cooks had apparently been preparing a scene for Sanji, in which they insult his cooking to make him feel like he needs to leave if he continues to refuse to join the pirates.

Luckily there's no need for it.

"You may already have a cook, but there's no demerit to having multiple, especially out at sea," Sanji begins, and Luffy's eyes light up, but for once Sanji's trying to focus more on her co-captain. "I'd like to join your crew."

"Yes!!!...right, Ace?" Luffy peers eagerly into the face of the man whose shoulders she's currently back to hanging from.

"Hmm, I dunno..." Ace pretends to think, and Luffy viciously chomps his ear. "OW, just kidding. Welcome to the ASL Pirates."

Sanji's packing, trying to only gather the essentials but occasionally pausing to soak in the nostalgia of the room that had been his home for so long, when his hands still.

He's spotted a bundle of old, worn magazines wedged between much thicker books. They were among the first of their kind that Sanji had ever gotten his hands on. Sanji read cookbooks Before, but seeing cooking magazines, with stories about the people and culture behind the cooking, had been new to him when he first encountered them after joining Zeff.

It was a piece of the world from Outside (outside the confines of a hostile, military mobile fortress), and Sanji had been fascinated. He certainly hadn't cared that the magazines were published decades before Sanji had obtained them, second hand at a used bookstore they'd passed by on a little island before the Baratie had been completed. And Zeff indulged him, collecting more, claiming that it was to build up his future restaurant's cookbook library, though they were all hoarded in Sanji's room.

None of the other magazines captured Sanji's interest like those first ones though. Because in them was a column tracking the story of a boy, who at the time the magazines had been published, had been around Sanji's age. A boy prodigy who had won multiple international cooking competitions, even had his own restaurant and soup kitchen, but who left it all behind to travel the world to further polish his craft.

To Sanji, who had only ever encountered adults interested in cooking, the column on the boy was more fascinating and inspiring than any fictional story could ever hope to be. And even though he had no objection to helping Zeff with his dream of completing and running the Baratie, at night, Sanji would escape into the articles, imagining himself traveling alongside the boy to different countries, exploring and studying different environments and ingredients and the culinary cultures that had evolved in them.

While the columns were written by some professional journalist, there was always a clip included of the boy's personal notes. Scrawled and messy, they showed the child behind them, and Sanji always imagined them as something like personal letters addressed to himself.

Sanji's brush with death and starvation is forever engrained in his mind, but he has little experience exploring other less developed islands, certainly none by himself. He knows little about the hardships of travel, nor the joy of adventure. Reading the columns, he experiences them through the boy, learning through his words without ever leaving his own bedroom.

Don't waste anything edible, ever, or you'll regret it once you're stuck on a tiny boat, the boy wrote. In another article, you might think it tastes bad, but know who its friends are and it'll usually work out. In yet another, sometimes you don't have the right money, or any money at all, but you still gotta eat.

The boy's words influenced many of Sanji's beliefs, that he otherwise likely wouldn't have held so firmly, having never personally experienced their applications himself.

But magazines, especially out of print ones, are hard to obtain out at sea, even more so when they don't even originate from East Blue. Despite years of hunting, Sanji never managed to collect all of the boy's stories, and eventually, he realized that they were no longer being published. He never found out if the column was cut, or if it had a conclusion in an issue he was missing, or if something happened to the boy.

It's been years since Sanji's last flipped through them, but on a whim, he takes one, feeling oddly sentimental and wanting to say goodbye to this important part of his childhood memories at the Baratie.

And as he opens the weathered pages to the article, and looks at the photo of the familiar smiling boy, he sees something that he'd apparently forgotten, and it makes the cigarette fall from his lips.

The boy's name.

Thatch.

Again, one more Epilogue part after this, though they’ll have moved on from the Baratie! Next part contains my personal headcanons for Thatch’s past <3

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you had any thoughts while reading, I’d love so much to hear them! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: 👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 5 Epilogue

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #Thatch #Vinsmoke Sanji #One Piece #genderbend #Monkey D. Luffy #text headcanons #longpost #long post

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Text

day 20 - fireplace

24 days - 24 oneshots | a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | prompt list can be found here

read on ao3

rated: g | words: 1719

“Do you have a stocking?”

Riza removed her head from being buried inside her book. She regarded the young alchemist, completely puzzled. Why was he asking her about what she wore underneath her trousers to keep her legs warm in the winter?

“A stocking?”

“Yeah,” Roy replied, not picking up on her confused tone.

“What do you need one for?”

“It’s – No reason,” he hurriedly deflected. His gaze averted from hers quickly.

“What –?”

“Do you have one?” He asked again, just wanting her to answer yes or no.

But why would he want just one? It was a very strange question, Riza thought.

“I mean… Typically I wear two at the one time. I think everyone does.”

“Wear,” Roy echoed, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

“Well… Yes,” Riza answered, just as baffled as he was. “What else do you use them for?”

“You hang them on the fireplace,” he explained.

“Hang them on it? But they’ll rip. The material is only thin.”

His expression grew even more incredulous which led Riza to believe something may have been lost in translation along the way…

“I don’t know why they’d be hung on the fireplace, other than hanging them near it for them to dry more quickly,” she continued. “Or, to heat them up before wearing them outside if it was a particularly cold day.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Roy lifted his hands and waved them in front of him hurriedly. “What are you talking about?”

“I wear stockings outside in the cold,” she explained. “I would maybe hang them by the fire to provide some extra warmth before going out but wouldn’t keep them there or pin them to it. They’d rip. What are you talking about?”

“Christmas stockings!”

Riza blinked at him. “Are they adorned with a particularly festive pattern?”

“What?” He was exasperated now and looking at her like she’d really lost it.

“I don’t know!” Riza huffed defensively. She half turned away from him, shooting him a glare out the side of her eye. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks the longer he stared at her with disbelief.

Realisation dawned on Roy’s face and he let out an elongated “oh”.

“No! No, not winter stockings like we were outside in the snow!” He scrambled to correct himself, realising where he’d gone wrong with his wording. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear enough. I was talking about a Christmas stocking. It’s what we put little gifts into from Santa,” he explained further. “They’re hung up on at the fireplace because he’ll come down the chimney and fill the stocking up before he leaves.”

Riza’s shoulders slowly relaxed, peeling away from her ears. “A Christmas stocking?”

Roy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I sometimes get some fruit. Or a little toy. Probably two or three of them. Aunt Chris always tells us that if we’re bad they’ll be filled with coal,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I’ve never had coal though.” He beamed with pride.

“Oh.”

“So, do you have one?”

Riza shook her head. “I don’t.”

The excitement slowly died down on Roy’s face. “You… You don’t have one?”

“We don’t really celebrate it,” Riza replied. Her tone was subdued but steady as she spoke.

She never remembered celebrating it and couldn’t understand why a sadness would wash over her whenever she went into town and saw all the other children her age incredibly excited as they clutched at their gifts.

Roy fell silent and contemplative. He stared down at his lap with a crease in between his eyebrows.

Riza watched warily, wondering what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Okay…”

He was too casual and brushed it off too easily after seeing his excitement while explaining the tradition to her initially. Riza thought it was rather suspicious.

He grinned at her and went back to studying his alchemy books without another word.

Too baffled by his reply, Riza kept her mouth closed and continued on with her chores.

She expected nothing from the holiday and knew she would receive nothing, so Roy’s comment didn’t really bother her. It only left her perplexed as to where the thought had suddenly stemmed from.

Deep down inside, in a compartment that was almost too dark for Riza to see into, there was a tiny sliver of hope. Memories of seeing her school peer’s faces light up when their parents bought them gifts in town filled Riza’s mind. Just once… Just one time, Riza would like to experience a joy like that. To have someone think of her and buy a gift for her out the goodness of their heart.

But she knew that would never happen. Riza quickly squashed that tiny piece of hope, feeling foolish for ever thinking such a thing.

* * *

It was the day Roy was due to leave for the train station that he came barrelling into the living room. Father was working in his study and Riza was working on patching up some of her old clothes. The trousers she was working on had holes in them at the knees from her gardening, so she was currently working on applying patches to them. They would be mismatched but they were only worn for seeding vegetables and tending to the tiny number of flowers that still clung desperately to the soil in Mother’s old garden.

“Hey.” Roy’s face was flushed as he skidded to a halt in the doorway. His hair was mussed up, dishevelled, and he was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong?” Riza was instantly alert. Her clothes were shoved to the side and she rose to stand.

“Nothing,” he reassured with a shake of his head. Roy smiled at her, a small one, but it was completely genuine. “Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Please,” he pleaded. “I don’t have much time before I have to leave, and I just finished getting your surprise ready.”

“Surprise?” She stared at Roy, wondering if she’d misheard him.

“Yes, surprise!” he beamed. “Come on!”

Once Riza was close enough, Roy grasped her wrist loosely in his hand and tugged her gently towards the stairs.

She jerked her hand away and it made Roy falter. There was a beat of silence as he looked back at her, surprised by her sudden rebuttal of his touch.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she dismissed, resisting the urge to rub at her wrist. It didn’t hurt, but the action had startled her. She initially didn’t like it but… His hand had been warm, and his touch had been gentle. It wasn’t rough and he didn’t pull so hard he tripped her up. He just wanted to move along with her. He wasn’t harsh of uncaring. He was calm and encouraging.

“Okay.” He glanced down at her twitching hand then back up at her face. “Sorry, I didn’t – I’m sorry for grabbing you. If you didn’t like it,” he added, suddenly looking fearful and ashamed.

“Oh. It’s okay –” Riza stuttered, trying to ignore the reminder of his warm hand encompassing her wrist, pulling her along with him so they could walk side by side. Her cheeks turned pink and she became mortified by her knee jerk reaction to recoil from him.

“Riza?” His voice was soft as he called to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. He jerked his head towards the stairs. “I have something to show you,” he tried again. “A surprise. Would you like to come with me?”

Riza nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Awesome,” he grinned. He climbed one step before turning around to wait for her to catch up. He set the pace but ensured they remained side by side as they ascended the staircase.

Her surprise was in her bedroom. Riza was confused immediately as he gestured for her to grasp the handle to her own room.

“What –?”

“Go inside and look,” he urged without further explanation. She was sure the smile on his face may split it in two. He looked extremely proud of himself.

She glanced around but her eyes came to settle upon the ancient, unused fireplace in her bedroom. Something was pinned into the wood. Something red and white.

A Christmas stocking, just like she’d seen in town weeks ago.

“What –” She blinked at it, wondering what that was doing in her bedroom –

“Here.”

He lightly tapped her elbow before walking further into the room. He approached the hearth and stopped, removing the stocking from it’s pin. Extending his arm, Roy held it out to Riza for her to take.

She was too surprised to move.

“It’s for you,” he added, seeing that she was still unmoving. “It’s your stocking, Riza! Look.”

On the side of it, near where the toes would sit in a normal stocking, was her name. It was embroidered in gold thread. Tears threatened to spring to her eyes, but she was still too shocked to let them fester.

Roy lifted her arms slowly and gently and pressed it into her hands. It left Riza no choice but to take a hold of it. And it was heavy. It was bulging in places. Looking down at the top she could see a box crudely wrapped in brown paper. There was more buried underneath, and it felt like there were quite a few.

“No opening them until Christmas Day though,” he teased, lifting a finger to waggle it in her direction.

“This…” Riza swallowed the lump in her throat.

Just once… Just one time, Riza would like to experience a joy like that. To have someone think of her and buy a gift for her out the goodness of their heart.

“Merry Christmas,” he winked.

“Roy –” She wanted to protest. This was too much for him to give her. He’d spent his own money on her. She couldn’t accept it.

“Think nothing of it,” he assured, trying to placate her. “Aunt Chris sent over the stocking and some of the goodies. I picked up a few in town. Can’t have Christmas without a stocking filled with gifts now, can we?” He flashed another smile at her.

“I…” Riza didn’t know how to respond.

“Hope you enjoy them.” He lifted his eyebrows playfully.

“Thank you,” she breathed, trying to rid her eyes of the tears forming in them.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #royai advent calendar #emma writes #anyone want some young!royai?

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ambersky0319 · 4 years

Note

Idea: Intrulogical fusion, completely in sync despite being a fusion of Remus and Logan. But Virgil and Patton didn't like it. Virgil because, It's Remus. He shouldn't be with a lightside. Patton because it makes him feel like he failed Logan, after all, hes eith Remus. So they force them apart. But, their roles are switched. Logan looks like King George III, but he has shackles & broken crown. Remus looks like your stereotypical mad scientist. They have no memory of who they once were. -Rayne

I had a lot of fun with this- also I decided to draw Macabre! It also ended up being longer than I intended. I hope y’all enjoy this!

Pairings : Intrulogical, Background Roceit

Warnings : Unsympathetic Patton, Morally gray but also pretty Unsympathetic Virgil (I mean, he feels somewhat regretful of what he does at the end-), Fusion, blood and pain mentions, if I need to add anything else please let me know!

Masterpost

—————————–

It started off as something small- an idea that Remus had, which Logan was more than happy to try. They were just figments of imagination, after all, it’s not like it was an impossibility. And it took a lot longer than either side believed it should have taken, but they got there.

Logan and Remus fused.

When they first fused, they cried. Tears streamed down their cheeks as they hugged themselves because it just felt so incredible, so loving. They hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet, but it felt right, being together like this. They fell to the ground just hugging themselves, rocking back and forth. He wasn’t them, though, and both Logan and Remus knew that. They could feel that. And when he looked in the mirror, that’s when they fell apart.

Logan and Remus were choking back tears of their own as they held one another, crumpled on the floor of Logan’s room. Remus buried his face into Logan’s neck, grinning wide as he laughed almost hysterically.

“I can’t believe that worked!”

“I can’t believe how that felt.”

The silence stretched on for a moment as they collected themselves until Remus broke it, pulling away from Logan slightly. “I want to do it again.” He said, reaching up to play with Logan’s hair. “Can we do it again, Lolo?”

Logan smiled the softest Remus had ever seen him smile, and he nodded. “Yes, whoever that was, it felt great. I would do it a hundred times or more.”

Remus giggled before leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s lips before they fused once again.

And so, Morbidity was created.

Morbidity stayed hidden for a long while, and Remus and Logan felt strange each time they unfused. They felt lonely, more so than they had before fusing. Remus had correlated it to how Ruby felt when she and Sapphire unfused and Ruby had gone on that adventure. And Logan couldn’t agree more. Being Morbidity was intoxicating, because when he formed, neither felt lonely or unloved anymore. And Morbidity felt more love than when Logan and Remus spent time together unfused.

Morbidity just felt right.

Morbidity didn’t want to unfuse anymore. Logan and Remus didn’t want to be apart, not when they were constantly torn down and ignored. So they stopped unfusing, and Morbidity stayed in his room. His own room! He had been shocked when it had formed but felt overjoyed nonetheless. Because it meant he was a part of Thomas, a true part of him! But with the new room, that meant that the others would start to notice. And they did.

Macabre, the name Morbidity found he liked most when brainstorming, was peacefully watching a documentary about some of the worst crimes ever committed to date. He was fascinated with how the killers had gotten away with it for so long, and how all the evidence from the buckets of blood that had needed cleaning up to the finest of hairs left behind all played a roll in solving the cases. He was writing a novel, a murder mystery, and wanted it to be as exciting and puzzling as possible. So research was needed.

That’s when his door was opened, no one knocking as it slammed against the wall. Macabre flinched at the sound, finally looking away from his television and notebook littered with notes and random, horrific doodles.

Standing there was Roman, stunned when he saw Macabre, dual-colored eyes staring into his green ones. “Um…”

Then Patton peered over his shoulder, confusion flashing across his face. “A new side?”

Macabre laughed, and it sounded like glass shattering. “Not a new side, Patty-cake. Merely an experiment gone extremely well!” Macabre stood, stretching and hearing his bones pop and feeling the pins and needles in his feet creeping up his legs. How long had it been since he last got up? He made a mental note to set a timer so that his limbs wouldn’t fall asleep like this again.

“…. Experiment?”

“Who are you?”

“What are you?”

Macabre frowned only slightly, fixing his glasses. “I’m Morbidity! I would say it’s great to finally introduce myself, but I believe your facial expressions aren’t the proper reactions one would want.

"And I was an experiment. Not one any longer, though! Remus and Logan sure enjoyed doing them. Maybe I should try it out too!”

“You’re behind Logan disappearing?!” Virgil’s voice raised a few octaves as he started on at the fusion. Macabre crossed his arms, now frowning completely.

“I’m not behind anything. And Logan didn’t disappear. Not completely.”

“What does that even mean?”

It seemed Roman knew the answer to Patton’s question, though, because he broke from his daze to answer. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Morbidity, but you’re a fusion.”

Macabre smiled. “Right you are, Roman! Oh, I knew you would remember. Remus didn’t think you would, but I knew you would.” He clapped his hands together, once.

“What’s he talking about Roman?” Virgil asked.

Roman only briefly looked at Virgil, offering a small, half-hearted shrug. “Remus brought up the idea one time that maybe sides could fuse. I just brushed it off, but it was definitely one of his good ideas.” He turned back to Macabre. “So… You’re a fusion of Remus and Logan?”

“Morbid Creativity and Logic sure go quite well together, don’t you think? Both always ignored, finding that they are the outcasts of their supposed families, and finding love in one another. It really shouldn’t be a surprise that they got along so well.”

“Wait wait wait, Logan fused with… With Remus?” Patton looked absolutely horrified.

“Well, they were dating for a year before they made me. But yes.”

“They were together?!”

“It really isn’t hard to believe, Patton.” Macabre glanced at his nails, painted as though they were dipped into blood. “Now, unless you three are interested in watching this documentary with me, can I get back to work?”

“We still have-”

“What are you working on?” Roman cut off Virgil, approaching Macabre. He shot Virgil and Patton a slight glare when they tried to protest. Because he could feel the anger and frustration, and even the panic radiating off the pair. “If you two even think of pushing Morbidity to talk, by the way, I’ll let Thomas know why I actually chose to go to the wedding.”

That sent the pair off, and Roman sat down with Macabre, the door closing. If this is what Remus and Logan wanted, to be together like this, then Roman would support it. He wasn’t in any place to judge though, considering just this morning he and Deceit had attempted to do the same.

It suddenly became very different around the Mind Palace, what with Macabre (or Copypasta’ as Roman and Deceit had taken to calling him after seeing Macabre’s love of creepypasta) having introduced himself to Thomas not long after the others had ventured into his room.

Thomas didn’t really mind Macabre, while he sometimes felt uncomfortable by the insane amount of violent knowledge he had, knowing about certain chemicals and their reactions to drinks was definitely helpful when attending bars. Especially when his drink shifted in color just slightly, and Thomas knew not to drink, because Macabre had remembered a case where someone had drugged their date. And Macabre got along with Deceit and Roman just fine(though the two still hadn’t come out yet).

Patton and Virgil, though? They were furious. They were absolutely livid that Logan would even agree to ever fuse with Remus. Logan deserved better than Remus, in their eyes.

They fueled one another, Virgil and Patton. They fueled the negative thoughts towards Macabre. He shouldn’t exist. He should have never existed in the first place. Logan was too good for Remus. What could Remus possibly offer that Logan would want, anyway, that Logan didn’t already have? The others had been working on showing their appreciation of Logan. Virgil and Patton had worked on not cutting him off, and Virgil had tried listening to him a bit more. Patton had stopped laughing at a few jokes Roman made about Logan.

And then there was Remus. The imbalance of negative and positive ideas was weird. Because Macabre wasn’t intrusive, not to the extent Remus had been. Now, Remus’s gruesome ideas were rationalized or internalized, suppressed in Macabre until he could jot down the idea and either write or draw the thought. Everything just felt wrong.

So they devised a plan, about three weeks after Macabre had been found by them.

Virgil had been horrified by Patton’s idea at first, listening reluctantly as Patton explained to him how to split a side. Because even if Virgil hated Macabre being together, and didn’t like Remus, he still remembered what the split had done to the twins. And he worried how that would affect Remus, going through another split. But Patton persuaded him, claiming that if all the facts that Thomas knew were tainted, were bad, then Thomas was a bad person. And Thomas couldn’t be a bad person, he just couldn’t. So Virgil agreed.

He doesn’t remember it much, though. He purposely forgot Macabre’s scream as he was quite literally torn apart. Virgil blocked the image of Macabre’s agonized face from his mind, keeping it a blurred memory that could have been a dream. He felt sick at the thought that he did it, but the idea that Logan would come back was enough to keep him from stopping.

Patton though was completely unfazed.

However, they didn’t get the outcome they had wanted.

Remus and Logan had indeed been split, that much was clear. But they weren’t Remus and Logan, not the ones that Patton and Virgil wanted.

They were pushed out of the way by Roman and Deceit, who had finally broken into the room that Virgil and Patton had sealed off. It looked so incredibly wrong, and to say Deceit and Roman were angry would be an understatement. They were bursting with rage as Logan and Remus finally stopped whimpering, the pain no longer overwhelming them. They cradled the two sides, all the while having a shouting match with Patton, Virgil making no attempt to defend his actions.

Roman held his brother tightly, though Remus only blinked at him in confusion, and once Deceit and Roman had stopped arguing with Virgil and Patton, they had turned their attention to the two sides, taking them in. The guilty pair sunk out to their own rooms, leaving Roman and Deceit with the new Logan and Remus.

Though they didn’t even know Logan and Remus were their names.

—————————–

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talesofnovembria · 3 years

Note

(viviskull) 💭*Salena with some trauma memories*

SEND ME A “💭“ AND YOUR MUSE WILL EXPERIENCE ONE OF MY MUSE’S MEMORIES

It is still a bit surprising to see Vivi in this form. Salena could recall it very briefly, when that gray entity had come… and held her with some strange sense of care. She could always feel there was more lying beneath the surface, something Vivi had kept hidden. It made much more sense now. A cult looking to draw her power, a goddess hidden in plain sight. Even so, such a thing would serve to place her in more danger if she got too careless.

Even gods could be killed.

She is not focused on any part in particular, though looking up to the almost snowy locks does remind you of a strange dream. Right… it seemed to coat the sky, and there was a flower in it. Seemed only reasonable to assume it was somehow connected to Vivi. She had been the one the wolf woke up to when the dream itself faded out. Blue eyes peered into the sea of hair, almost seeming as vast as the sky on a clear day.

Teeth grit, hands moving up to her head. Something was wrong. He could hear a rattling within her mind. He floated to another one of her more secluded alcoves. He knew these were not connected to… him… but rather another collection of memories she would not like to remember. Permanent damage leading her to become the kind of person she was today. One of the doors near the back was having the chains fiddled with… streams of light blue?

When he flew closer, he could see they looked like strands of hair. How was this possible? Why were they tampering with such a memory? Wires move around the hairs, both of them just seeming to dance around each other. Worrying snaps are heard, his hand waving to try and replace the ones being broken. Such a power worked fast, the door flinging open.

Salena gripped her head tightly, the memory flowing back to the forefront of her mind… and through the eyes of another…

----

You are not entirely sure where you are. Much of the landscape feels like anywhere else, or rather it is not where your focus is. You’re much more focused on the bodies laying at your feet. You can see blood leaving them, staining the ground under them. Their eyes are lifeless, but still full of the terror they likely felt before meeting their end. You can see many different ones. Soldiers, men, women, even children. You should be horrified by this…

But you’re not. You’re content.

You look around to see others knights there with you, each of you dressed in heavy armor. Some wear helmets, their glowing blue eyes the only thing able to be seen under the darkness. You’re not wearing one of these helmets, as most don’t seem to fit you. They’re looking over the bodies, just the same as you. You give a flick of your sword, blood splashing from the sharp edges of the blade. You don’t care about their deaths. You were commanded to do this, and you shouldn’t be bothered by it. You’d already killed before this point, and you’re not feeling regret for your choices…

But your eyes seem to linger on them for a little longer than the others. You try your best to pull them away like everyone else. There’s no point lingering here any longer than necessary. The knights are opening gates, you can see a familiar darkened sky and landscape on the other side. In the distance is a Citadel, the place all of you are returning to. It’s your home now.

You follow the other knights, moving up the steps to the entrance gates. As you step inside, you are stopped from joining the others you’ve returned with. No.. that’s not entirely true. You recall seeing these knights with you, but you know these are senior knights. They’ve been serving your king longer than you have. You wonder what they could want with you specifically. They motion for you to follow them, which you do so without question. You notice the others in your group going their own separate ways, none of them casting you a glance.

You can’t help but feel as if that is slightly strange.

You recognize the path leading up to the three main wings of the Citadel, one for each ‘school’ of runic magic. You spend most of your time in the Frost Wing, learning under more senior knights, and sometimes with the drakes of the Frostbrood. But… that is not where you are going. You are following these knights to the Unholy Wing. You speak up, questioning why you are being led to this wing, but the knights do not answer you. You don’t speak again.

You can hear various sounds as you are led through the wing. The Professor never seemed to stop with his experiments. You believe you can see the man’s abominations’ ‘pet’ dogs coming down the hall. The knights lead you to a secluded room of the wing, none you have passed by paying you any mind.

As you step into the room, the door is shut behind you. It’s just you and these knights.

You look up to them, confusion crossing your face. You’re still not sure why you have been brought here. One knight is leading you towards the center of the room, the others closing in on you. Before you know it, familiar chains of ice latch onto your wrists, pulling you down. What was the meaning of this? Had you not done what you were ordered to do? You question them on what they are doing.

They answer.

If you could pale anymore than you already were, you would. You’re being sentenced to a punishment. You had done what you were instructed to do, but you did have a couple moments of hesitation… and you lingered on your victims for far too long. Your emotions have gotten in the way. That is what must be corrected. Why here then? You are certain they didn’t have to bring you all the way to the Unholy Wing for this right?

You look to the side, seeing one of the Professor’s students step into the room. They’re carrying an assortment of tools. Just what were they planning on doing?

Your eyes go wide, calling out as the student starts to cut at sections of your arm. They’re pulling skin, inch by inch. You can see blood pouring out from where they cut, but that is because your body is different from most knights. The loss of blood will not kill you, simply a small unnatural occurrence since you fell into a state of undeath rather than outright dying. You can feel tears building up in your eyes, pain taking over.

Certain injuries were meaningless to the undead, but that didn’t mean the pain still didn’t linger.

You can feel one of the knights pressing their gauntlet-covered hand over your mouth, tears dripping against the saronite metal. The student is moving to another part of your body, removing your armor so they can continue their slow torture. You stare up at the senior knight, cold eyes staring back at you. They are berating you for your reaction to this. With each tear you shed, you can feel a strike against your body.

You’re not sure how long you have been trapped in this room with them, the knights taking turns beating you while the student has left so many strips of nothing but cuts and peeled skin. By the end of this session, your tears have dried up, pain taking their place. For good measure, the knight holding your face the entire time has sliced off part of your arm, and part of your foot. They are taken away by the student. Blood spills, pain radiates, but you’re left with a dimming look in your eyes.

The other knights leave you there, ordering you to remain until someone comes to fix you up.

You watch them leave, you now being the only one remaining in the room. No light seeps into the room, yet you seem to be able to see through the darkness. You can’t hear anyone coming back to repair your body. You are sure they will be coming back with a body part that is not your own… more tools to stitch your skin back into its proper place. You foolishly try to push yourself up with one hand, but end up falling back down.

As you lay there, waiting for who knows how much longer, you get the sinking feeling this will not be the only time you will be seeing this room.

#bitch in armor - salena #helpful? hollow - the good doctor #meme reply #viviskull #tw; blood #tw; torture #tw; body horror #((Are you absolutely sure Lina?))#((Ok then))#((Suffer :') ))#((I hope I did Divi's abilities justice))

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veraynes-blog · 4 years

Note

19 with TenSimm for the cuddle prompts, if you please 😁

19. While someone's sick. Ten/Simm

In which the Master reluctantly plays doctor. Please excuse his questionable methods of care, he's never had to work at making someone feel better before...

So this got massively longer than I intended, but I hope it's the sickfic you were thinking of! 😄❤

They don't notice the Doctor's apparently caught something from their latest travel destination until they're two galaxies and half a millennia away. It's not the kind of thing Time Lords are particularly wary of, picking up illnesses. They have an immune system that fights off most things, and failing that the TARDIS has a sterile field built in which scans and eliminates contaminants.

Neither of them are sure how exactly the Doctor manages to avoid all failsafes, only that, somehow, as he stretches up to adjust the temporal settings on their flight path, there appears to be the beginnings of an angry red rash on the inside of his wrist.

"What the hell is that?" the Master demands when he first sees it, jerking his own hand back from the control panel and safely out of reach.

The Doctor blinks in equal surprise, pushing his sleeve back to examine the marks. "Oh. Not sure. Huh."

The Master wrinkles his nose in distaste at how genuinely interested the other man sounds at the development. He really will do anything for novelty.

"What did you touch?" he snaps accusingly. "...Or should that be 'who'?"

The Doctor shoots him a scathing look, and doesn't bother to address the latter. "I don't know, nothing that's jumping to mind." He runs one finger carefully over the little red lumps. "It doesn't hurt. Not even that itchy."

The Master feels like he's having a stronger vicarious aversion to the whole thing than the Doctor. He can't help looking down at his own hands and wrists, turning them over quickly in search of spots, mercifully finding nothing. Even so, his skin suddenly feels like it's crawling, and he rolls his shoulders unhappily as he imagines half a dozen vicious itches spring up across his back and chest.

"It's probably just a reaction to something," the Doctor dismisses absently, tugging his sleeve back down with a shrug. "Must have an allergy in this regeneration. Can you grab the -?"

But the Master is already striding for the door. "Absolutely not, keep your scabby hands to yourself. Talk to me when you're back to normal." He's going to go shower, thoroughly, and check in the mirror just to be sure that no suspicious blemishes have materialised anywhere on him.

Behind him, the Doctor scoffs. "Thanks for your heartfelt sympathy," he mutters, and then the door closes on whatever further whinging comes next.

"It's freezing in here."

The Master arches a sceptical eyebrow over the top of the computer tablet he's working on. It most certainly is not. In fact he rather suspects the other Time Lord has already been messing with the ambient temperature settings of the ship to crank it up a few notches.

It's been a few peaceful hours since he left the Doctor tinkering in the control room. He's sprawled across one of the couches in the library, tablet propped up on his chest, so he has to push himself up enough to peer over the back of the cushions, mouth already open to offer the sarcastic response he's got in mind.

But he stops, and blinks wordlessly at the sight he's met with.

The Doctor's discarded his suit jacket and tie, despite his protestations about being cold, and the reason is fairly obvious as the Master flicks a glance down over him. He's sweating visibly, an unhealthy sheen across his forehead and his shirt damp with it. His skin looks flushed, eyes far too bright as his gaze trails disinterestedly around the library

The Master sits up slowly, vaguely incredulous frown in place.

"Are you... actually sick?"

The other man gives him a slightly blank look, and then wanders closer. The Master almost flinches, because he can catch the faint sour wrongness of it now, and can only watch in amazement as the Doctor slumps tiredly onto the other end of the couch like his strings have been cut. This close, he can see through the open collar of his shirt that the rash has spread to his chest.

Frankly, the Master has no idea what he's supposed to do with the development.

It really isn't often that Time Lords get sick, not like this. He can't even remember being around it before. He has a distant memory that there'd been an opulent, cathedralesque hospice on Gallifrey, for aging Time Lords beyond their final regenerations, but he'd never gone near. And his own brushes with illness and injury have been very different experiences to this.

He stretches out a hand, pausing momentarily in the air, and then hesitantly presses the inside of his wrist against the Doctor's forehead with a little bump. That's what people do, isn't it? He's definitely seen it done. It's an unpleasant sensation, if he's honest, clammy and startlingly hot.

He snatches his hand back in surprise, gingerly wiping it off on his suit trousers.

"You've got a fever," he says, uselessly, like the Doctor might not have noticed.

The other man gives him a half-smile, looking stupidly charmed by his clumsy attempt at diagnostics.

"Yeah. Sorry."

It gets worse quickly after that.

The fever keeps rising, along with the Master's mounting horror as he realises he's going to have to do something to help, and has precisely no idea what. Irritably, he goes scrounging through the TARDIS medical ward and comes back with ice packs, painkillers, and various medicines that might in some way be useful, dumping the collection in front of the other man.

"Come on, you're the Doctor here - which of these are you prescribing yourself?"

"S'metaphor," the Doctor slurs slightly, from where he's slumped back against the headboard of his bed. He stares listlessly at the offerings, then lifts a shoulder. "Not medical."

The Master sighs tightly. "Yes, whoever imagined that particular pretension might come back to bite us, hm...?" He shoves one of the ice packs none too gently over the other man's forehead, ordering him to keep it there, and perches on the edge of the bed with his tablet to search through the TARDIS’s database for what else he's supposed to do.

He can't figure out exactly what it is the Doctor's picked up from the planet, although that doesn't surprise him much. They tend to react differently than other species anyway, so there's every chance the same illness presents completely differently, or like nothing at all, in the humans he caught it from.

He is, however, more than a little concerned that whatever's wrong could be contagious. If the Master gets sick as well, it doesn't bode well for either one of them, but he's not sure what other option he has but to take the risk. Leaving any Time Lord in the care of some alien medical facility is out of the question, as far as he's concerned; even the best of them have no understanding of the complex physiology they're dealing with, and the worst aren't always above taking advantage of the chance to study them, which the Master won't tolerate.

But nor can he afford to just... keep his distance, because within the day the Doctor is in no state to look after himself.

The fever makes him lethargic and slow to respond, sulkier than usual in his discomfort. He keeps falling into restless sleep, and when he is awake he's nauseous and dizzy and won't stop scratching at his stupid rash until the Master threatens irritably to restrain him if he keeps going.

For his part, the Master resigns himself to setting up on the couch in the Doctor's bedroom. He brings a book. It turns out to be somewhat optimistic, sadly, because what he actually ends up doing is listening to the Doctor's increasingly pathetic complaints like he's proclaiming dying wishes.

"Nggh. Everything hurts. I can feel my organs hurting. I can feel organs I didn't know I had hurting."

"Take another painkiller," the Master suggests blandly, flipping a page.

"Fine." There's a pause. "...Can you get me a drink?"

With ill grace the Master fetches water, and begrudgingly even sorts food (soup, because it's easier to pin him down and force him to drink it, if he has to, than endure pleading with the uncooperative prat to feed himself). He adjusts the ship temperature to the recommended settings (taking great joy in overriding the Tardis's safeguards against him) and diligently picks through the eclectic mix of mostly alien medications he found earlier, trying to determine which ones will safely treat a fever in a Time Lord by cross referencing against the medical sites he pulls up on his tablet.

He's not what anyone would call a natural caregiver, he suspects, more impatient with the whole process than anything. But he is precise, and capable, and thankfully the Doctor is not unaccustomed to doing as he's told these days.

It's not until he can't get a sensible answer out of the other man that he really starts to worry.

"Go to sleep."

"No, I need to get the... the thing. The thing, you know. With the magnets."

The Master closes his eyes in tired exasperation, and when the Doctor starts pushing off the covers like he's going to get up, he shuts his book with a snap and goes to stop him. A quick, efficient shove puts him flat on his back without issue, and the Master insistently puts the ice pack in place again.

"Stay." It's not unlike having a particularly hapless pet, he thinks, ungenerously, and wonders again how long this is likely to go on for.

Rolling his eyes, he turns for the door. "I'll be back in a minute, I need to -"

"Don’t."

The Master glances at him curiously, surprised to find himself met with a strangely fervent expression.

"Don't go." The Doctor says it with such sudden desperation that the Master is immediately sure he's not talking about him just stepping out of the room for a minute. "Don't leave."

"You're delirious," he informs the other Time Lord flatly, prodding at him to try and get him to lie back down. "Go to sleep."

The Doctor makes an uncoordinated grab for him, catching at his sleeve. "No, stay. Please. Stay with me."

The Master shakes him off with a frown, a little unnerved. They don't ask each other things like that. They just don't. It's understood.

But then they don't usually get sick, either.

He deliberates silently, unsure of himself, as the Doctor continues to look up at him with a faintly pleading expression.

Finally he sighs, supposing it's as good a way to keep him pliant as any. Reluctantly, he takes off his tie and waistcoat and lays them aside. Then rolls up his shirtsleeves and unbuttons his collar, because the unnatural heat that's pouring off the other Time Lord can be felt even from where he stands at the edge of the bed, and he can only imagine it's going to be worse the nearer he gets. He moves one of the pillows back and sits stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Agitatedly propped up on one elbow, the Doctor watches him with glazed, too-bright eyes, brows pitched up hopefully. His hand sneaks out across the sheets, already plucking at the edges of the Master's shirt before he's even settled. The Master ignores him for the moment, bringing his legs up on the bed to cross atop the covers, adjusting the cushion behind himself so he can sit propped against the headboard. He remembers he's forgotten his book a second too late - because by then the Doctor is already tipping into his lap, cheek resting heavy against his thigh, one arm thrown awkwardly around his waist.

The Master blinks down at him in bemusement, hands hovering a few inches away from touching. Everything he's done today has been beyond the realm of his typical experience, but this...

He's not sure he's ever been anyone's source of comfort before now.

Warily, he lets one hand settle on the Doctor's shoulder, resigning himself to staying put for a while. There's not much else he can do anyway, in terms of pragmatics; there's water on the sidetable, and he's already plied the other man with what food and medications he can keep down. So he tips his head back against the headboard, gaze drifting upwards, and tries to make himself comfortable.

The Master wakes up disoriented. At some point in the night he's slipped down to lie properly on the bed, finds himself curled on his side half-tangled in the mess of sheets. He squints, looking round himself in confusion - and then experiences a moment of senseless panic as he realises he's alone.

He isn't sure what he thinks, in that brief second. That the Doctor's wandered off, that he's gotten worse, that he'll make himself worse. That - he couldn't possibly, it wasn't that bad, surely? - that he might even have regenerated while the Master slept.

He doesn't have time to fully sit up in alarm before the bathroom door opens, and the Doctor steps out. He looks worse for wear still, bumping tiredly into the doorframe on his way through, but far more aware of himself than he'd seemed last night. And in the same regeneration.

The Master relaxes gradually, embarrassed by his own irrational reaction as he lets himself rest back onto the pillow, rubbing the gritty sleep from his eyes. There's a crick in his neck and his shirt's twisted uncomfortably round him and he's never wanted a shower more in his lives.

The Doctor shuffles toward the end of the bed and manages to crawl onto it, but doesn't quite make it all the way back up to the pillows. He gets far enough to collapse with his face pressed against the Master's stomach, one arm draped loosely over his hip, and clearly calls it good enough.

The Master snorts at the attempt, but deigns to place his hand on the back of the Doctor's head, fingers working through the mess of his hair. It's somewhat unpleasant, the strands still damp with sickly sweat, but the other man is in no position to notice his look of distaste as he continues the motion. The feverish temperature has finally dropped, the Master notes absently.

They're quiet for a few minutes, dozing like that. At length, the Doctor stirs against him, fingers curling loosely on his waist.

"You stayed," he murmurs, words distorted as they're spoken right against his midriff.

The Master frowns, keeping his eyes closed. He feels oddly self-conscious, firstly for having done as asked, and now having it commented on. A list of excuses drift automatically through his head. He hadn't had a choice. He'd been being manipulative. Something... sarcastic.

"Shut up," is all he say, though, in the end.

#doctor who #doctor/master #tenth doctor #simm!master #thoschei #tensimm #prompt fic #verayne writes

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

Text

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 4: A Potion To Remember

@stupendousbookworm ‘s #aprilprompts2021 heats up today, as Matthew and Merula work together to brew a Love Potion. I decided to make this a part 2 of yesterday’s prompt, and while it isn’t needed to enjoy this, it will explain some things that are mentioned. Either way, enjoy!

Prompt # 5 - Uh oh, it's potions class with Professor Snape! Oh, but what's that? MC is paired with (Love Interest) to make Amortentia! What will MC smell like, and what will MC smell?

“Matt, are you feeling alright?” Rowan asked as the Ravenclaws trotted down to the Dungeons.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, absolutely. Why do you ask?” he said, playing with his silver bracelet.

“You just seem a little...distracted by something.” Rowan explained, “You spent most of Charms looking out the window.”

“Did I?” Matthew said absentmindedly. “Oh, well, um...” he wasn’t exactly sure how he could articulate the events of that morning.

“I’m just saying, whatever happy mood you’re in Snape’s bound to crush it. Besides, didn’t you ‘schedule’ an argument with Merula this lesson?”

Matthew looked confused for a moment. “Why would that be a b-” he began, before stopping himself. That was close. Just a few hours earlier, Matthew and Merula had agreed to no longer be enemies, but that wasn’t something that just disappeared in the eyes of Hogwarts, especially as neither had told anyone about this.

“It’s just…” Matthew continued, “Well, I found out the school is planning something. But I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about it.”

“Then it is for the best that you do not talk at all, Mr Luther.” came a cold voice from behind them, causing them both to jump. “You would surely do us all a favour.”

Matthew quickly tried to regain his composure as Professor Snape emerged from the shadows, moving towards the classroom. The two Ravenclaws began moving at a brisk pace to get there before him, having made the mistake of letting him in first once before. They got into the classroom and turned to see Snape slam the door shut, leaving anyone behind them out in the cold.

“Get to your seats.” he ordered. They obeyed quickly, moving to their table. Merula was already there. She had the tiniest smile on her face.

“You cut it close there.” she said, getting out her notebook. Matthew nodded, sitting down in his usual place. He sighed, trying to marshal his thoughts for the lesson ahead. He found himself unable to look to the girl on his left without blushing, and so focused on pulling out his cauldron. There was so much he wanted to talk to Merula about, but he was terrified. He knew that he couldn’t do it here, with other people watching. Perhaps the best thing to do was push any and all of those thoughts out of his head until later. Yes, that would work. After all, this was a Potions lesson with Snape: was there anything less romantic? I don’t know, a poltergeist spraying stinksap everywhere? Said a voice in Matthew’s head. He elected to ignore the voice. He could do this, right?

Snape finally relented and let the late students into the class, mainly because so many of the Slytherins were still in the hospital wing thanks to Peeves.

“Since there are so few of you, you will be working in pairs for today. You will be brewing Amortentia.”

Oh you are kidding me. Matthew cursed under his breath. Why did Snape have the innate ability to know the last thing he wanted in every situation. There was a slight sir among everyone else, too. Merula’s cheeks went slightly pink. Barnaby looked around, confused.

Snape suddenly looked extremely stern. “Amortentia, also known as a Love Potion (“Oh!” said Barnaby) , is one of the most dangerous potions ever concocted, and anyone found to be using it outside of this classroom by me will be expelled. Do I make myself clear?” There was a series of nods. This was one of the few things Matthew and Snape agreed on. A potion that messed with free will shouldn’t even be sold, as far as Matthew was concerned. If anything, he was glad Preston and his lot weren’t here to learn it. Still, at least he and Rowan could work on it by themselves.

“Khanna, you will assist Mr Lee today.” Snape said, “I do believe he will need someone who knows what he is doing.” Matthew’s eyes widened. He could already see exactly where this was going.

“Which leaves Mr Luther and Miss Snyde. Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work!”

“Well...” said Merula, clearly sharing in the awkwardness of the situation. “Wh-Why don’t you go and get the ingredients, Luther, and I...I’ll get the cauldron ready.” Matthew nodded and headed off to find the right ingredients. This was too much. Even his mind couldn’t cope with everything lining up like this. He picked up the Ashwinder eggs, and moved to collect some Pearls to crush before being stopped by Snape.

“You’re being awfully quiet, Luther, for such a vocal critic of the Love Potion.” he sneered.

“Well...it’s been a tiring day, Professor.” Matthew explained, “You know, what with Peeves and everything.” He tried desperately to hide his disdain. Why was he doing this, especially when he knew there was a dance coming up? Snape looked at him. “It is a pity that these things must be done, but in my experience it is better that students know how to brew safe Love Potions rather than risking it, or buying from untrustworthy sources. I would not be surprised if there is an epidemic of Love Potion usage in the coming months.”

Matthew nodded, a frown on his face. As always, Snape had an extremely pessimistic view of Hogwarts students. They could see how stupid Love Potions were, he was sure of that. Matthew grabbed the Peppermint and Moonstone and headed back to Merula. Everyone else was fully concentrated on their Amortentia. This is an opportunity… said that voice in his head again. Matthew disregarded it.

“Okay, stir seven times clockwise...” Merula whispered, as Matthew added in the crushed pearls. The room was strangely quiet, with everyone concentrating intensely on the incredibly complicated potion, or in Matthew’s case ignoring any intruding thoughts.

“I don’t think we’ll ever get the chance to have that argument.” Matthew observed, causing Merula to chuckle.

“I think you’re right there...” she said quietly, peering at the instructions, “Right, we’re almost there, put in the rose parts.”

Matthew obeyed, placing in the thorns and petals. Matthew made sure to do it in one movement, but had to maneuver around Merula to do it.

“Hang on-” Matthew said, trying to keep still. “Oh, here, let me-” He brought his arm up, but she moved at the same time, which ended up moving them next to each other.

“Yeah, um...okay..” Merula said airily. Matthew quickly finished adding in the rose petals, but one ended up falling on Merula’s hand. She quickly pushed it into the potion, which turned a pearly white. Matthew and Merula, meanwhile, had gone bright red as a spiral of steam emerged from the mixture.

“Um...well, looks like we, um...we did it.” Matthew stammered, moving away from Merula and taking a breath. “Now for this smell test.”

Merula went first, and Matthew grabbed the sheet Snape had given them to record their results. She leant over the potion and took a deep breath, her nose wrinkling. Matthew brought the piece of paper onto his lap.

“W-Well?” he asked, staring at the glowing mixture. Merula cleared her throat.

“Um...it’s a breeze. A sea breeze.” she said, taking another smell, “And...the woods, too? And...I think...apples. Yeah, definitely apples.” she sat back down, looking strangely nervous.

Matthew nodded, writing what she said down. He tried to ignore memories of his hometown, with its vast expanse of trees and a beach just outside his doorstep. He also blocked out the type of shampoo he used, and the fruit he had for lunch every day. “Right, my turn then.” He stepped forward over the mixture and leaned in. He looked at the potion, and felt the steam touch his face, before taking a sniff. Well, that’s that.

“So?” she said impatiently, “What’s yours?”

He looked up at her. “It’s like...Christmas...you know, ginger and cloves and cinnamon...” he noted, “Then there’s something I just can’t recognise...and then there’s...umm…nail polish.” he said, the last two words spoken extremely quickly.

“Sorry, what was that?” Merula asked, a smirk on her face.

“N-Nail polish.” he said, eyeing her nervously. Maybe it was the steam from the Amortentia slightly obscuring his vision, but through it, as Merula noted down their findings, she looked...well, she looked absolutely mesmerising. Matthew forced himself away from the smoke, shaking his head. Then he looked at her again, and was horrified to discover that she was still absolutely stunning.

“Alright, you might as well tell me how you did it, Luther.” Merula said suddenly. Matthew looked at her. His brain’s normal methods of dealing with problems weren’t working, and was beginning to give way to impulse.

“S-Sorry, what?” he said, sitting back down and copying the notes onto his paper.

“How you made the Love Potion smell like you, you dolt!” she hissed. Matthew’s jaw dropped.

“Firstly, how dare you I would never, Secondly, we worked together on it, you would have noticed, and thirdly, how do you know what I smell like?”

Merula stared at him for a moment. “I...well, I...I thought it smelled like you, okay?” she whispered, “When we went into the Forest on my broom, I guess I...look, it doesn’t matter!” she declared.

“Mm, I don’t know...” said Matthew, adding the final few sentences to his notes, “We did schedule an argument for today, did we not?”

Merula laughed at that. “Guess so. Still, at least we held off until we finished the potion.”

“Yeah, that’s progress at least.” Matthew admitted, allowing himself to smile. “Merula...I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For that apple. I’d skipped breakfast to get on a train to go into London without my Dad noticing. I was starving by the time I found my way to the Ministry, and lost, and afraid. And then, I saw you and...your mother...and you helped me. You didn’t need to, but you helped me.”

“Yeah...I guess I did, huh. Look, Matthew, today has been one hell of a ride, huh?” she said, leaning back on her stool.

“Merula, it’s not even lunchtime.” Matthew reminded her, pushing the hair out of his face. Merula almost fell off her seat.

“Merlin’s pants...what even...” she stammered, before bursting into quiet laughter. Matthew found himself laughing too, wiping his eyes. He could admit it to herself now. Merula Snyde has an adorable laugh. Heck, Merula Snyde is just adorable.

“Having fun, are we?”

Professor Snape was leering over them. “Well, it appears you have made an above-par potion. It appears that while Mr Luther cannot follow school rules, he can at least obey potions instructions.”

He stared for a moment, before stepping away, gliding over to Rowan and Barnaby’s cauldron.

“And the winner for ‘Most Backhanded Compliment’ goes to...” Matthew muttered.

“I mean, he’s not wrong...” said Merula, putting her notes away. “Do you think this is because of...” she scribbled ‘C-E-L-E-S-T-I-A-L B-A-L-L’ on her note book. Matthew shrugged.

“Probably. He said he thinks there’ll be a load of people using Love Potions soon.” Matthew explained.

Merula sighed. “Ah, well. At least I don’t have to worry about you using one.”

“And I hope I don’t need to worry about you.” he said in a mock-posh voice.

“Oh, you absolutely don’t, good sir.”

“Why thank you, madam-”

“You are dismissed!” said Snape finally, “Those who were not here will have to catch up over the weekend. Your homework is a scroll of parchment on whether or not the Love Potion should be made illegal, due next lesson.”

Before the lesson, Matthew would have said ‘Of course’ in response to that question, but after having brewed one, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the fact that it was one of the best Potions lessons he had had, bar perhaps the one where he stuck a toad in his mouth to hide that Animagus leaf. Though, maybe he just enjoyed making a potion with someone else. As he left the potions classroom, Rowan caught up to him.

“I guess you survived working with Merula.” they laughed, as they walked up the stairs.

“Yeah, I guess I did…” Matthew sighed, as they moved towards the Great Hall. What Matthew did next was perhaps a little selfish. He still felt the need to be closer to Merula, and had both a fear and desire of asking Merula to this Celestial Ball, and it felt like he couldn’t tell anyone about it. Perhaps that was why he gathered his friends as they got ready to have lunch. “Listen,” said Matthew as they approached Ravenclaw table. “You’ll never guess what McGonagall told me...”

It took exactly two minutes and six seconds for the whole school to find out.

#aprilprompts2021 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #merula x mc #merula snyde #hphm jacobs sibling #hphm fanfiction #jacob's sibling x merula

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themissingmarvel · 4 years

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Kind Regards, Detective [Part 5] -Prelude to Deepest Sympathies

(I don’t usually trigger warn or content warn, but this might be a triggering chapter. I’m including the Reader’s Drabble I wrote a little while back as recommended reading prior to this, [Drabble 2] but if it’s hard to read about family death then maybe avoid it. This chapter was hard, but important. And I think sets up a truly important dynamic. I’m a slow-burn romantic kind of lady, and I wanted their relationship to be powerful and important, not just one of lust. Or even basic attraction. I needed it to be human. Anyway I liked writing it, and feedback is always appreciated and loved and treasured ((i seriously reread any feedback and comments)) and as always, ask to be tagged or removed from tagging.

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Death, emotional anguish, PTSD flashbacks, language)

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble2]

She didn’t sleep last night, which was no surprise. She had spent much of the night awake and poring over documents and cataloged pieces. Her own theories had been spun and while some might have felt outlandish in her head, she understood that this was an outlandish case. It had been hard enough to put on those headphones and let herself fall into a trance. Remember her sister. But not directly. She remembered remembering. Buying that damn CD she would play over and over. Peter Gabriel was her sister’s favorite, not that she’d ever tell anyone. Neither would. Her sister touted her love for System of a Down and Trust Company back when those bands made you cool.

For years after her sister passed she had found the only thing that felt vaguely satisfying was leaving that CD on her sister’s grave. And when CDs started becoming scarce, she had spent a few hundred dollars on Amazon buying all of the CDs she could find with that song on it. She’d be damned if she ever missed a single anniversary. Never went on the day of her passing, though. No. That felt sacrilegious. She went on her sister’s birthday, played the song on her headphones, along with a few others, but Heroes was the one that she played most. It was the one she’d leave behind after telling her how her parents had finally divorced, or how her dad had been ‘thinking’ about retiring again. For the hundredth time. Or how she’d been accepted as an Agent and two weeks ago, about how she was feeling so fucking lost.

But memories of memories are easier to put away, and much like her locker that held Detective Loki, her sister’s, much more ornate and much larger, she put those memories of memories away.

Her bag was hanging off her form lazily and her hair was done just enough to be presentable. By no means was she falling apart, but she was working. Working hard meant she lost focus on other parts of herself. It meant she had zeroed in on certain aspects of the case. Like how all of the individuals abducted had been on the same phone carrier, Radius, or how the TV was a model made by the company Source that had been discontinued three years ago, but at the time had been beyond revolutionary. Even now it was considered brilliant. She had found no traces of the nerve agent were discovered at the scene which meant they were probably injected with the pure form. Which meant someone had a lot of it.

Her theories meant that this man was not just dangerous but he had resources. He had access to things that people shouldn’t have access to and maybe he worked with Radius? Had access to their systems? The generator powering the church had been a Source item as well, meaning both were connected. Who used Source and Radius?

The precinct was still somewhat quiet, at 8am, slightly later than yesterday. Shift change had taken place and the detectives were still filtering in. Except for Detective Loki who was hunched at his desk, a long sleeved, form fitting black shirt on his form and black pants hanging off his hips. He looked sleek. Dangerous, even. She could see how someone might fall for someone like him.

Placing her bag down in the conference room, having actually remembered her coffee traveler this time, she glanced up as one of the cops walked in with a box, “Agent Y/L/N, this was left here about an hour ago for you. UPS dropped it off.”

The 2-PAM. She smiled and took it, “Thanks. Kind of nice when things work out like they’re supposed to for once,” she chuckled, curious why the box was so damn light.

The officer left and Y/N looked down, noticing that the label wasn’t stamped ‘FBI’ and in fact the sender name was absent, save for an address in Pennsylvania that didn’t look familiar. Maybe not the FBI?

Her heart suddenly began to race, carefully putting the box down as she looked to the side, seeing Detective Loki still hunched over. The man was on a mission.

Reaching behind herself she withdrew the small switchblade she kept tucked into her waist line, the one that no one ever saw. That was small. Cold and awkward at times but useful. Like now.

Why did this feel like defusing a bomb?

The blade clicked and she carefully began to open the box. She was aware it didn’t matter anymore who touched it, or if she damaged it. She knew whatever was inside the box was key. And with a final tug, the lid opened and she peered inside.

Time stopping had always felt like kind of an exaggeration to Y/N. How does time even ‘stop’? What, does the world freeze? Well, it did.

Staring inside the box she could see the face of a man she knew well, a man who cradled her soul and her heart and sang brilliant love songs to her, who had kept her connected to her sister, even in death. The black CD cover with two red forms on it, her sister claimed them red blood cells but said they looked like rose petals.

Her hand was surprisingly steady as she picked up the note inside, reading the immaculate cursive written on some kind of specialty papyrus paper, “My deepest sympathies, Agent. Your triumph through tragedy only enhances your beauty.”

And with that, she ran for the plastic trash bin nearby and fell to it, retching hard as she threw up the entire contents of her breakfast, causing the box, the note, and the Peter Gabriel CD with Heroes on it to tumble to the floor.

Immediately David heard the noise and jumped, running inside the room as the precinct suddenly jumped to life, turning to take in the scene. The note, CD, and box were on the floor and Y/N was kneeling by the small, cheap plastic trash bin puking.

“What the fu-” David was almost able to spit the words out before a strangely animalistic sound came from her lips, screaming into the bin that she had already emptied the contents of her stomach into.

The world grew quiet as the scream died down, leaving Y/N on her knees with her eyes closed, knuckles white as she gripped the bin as though it were the only thing keeping her alive right now. Stable. Present. Here.

“Get me gloves and bags for the items, now!” David yelled out, to no one in particular as he knelt by the woman in a kind of distress he didn’t know a person could experience from a simple box, “Hey, talk to me, what happened? Are you OK?”

Her face snapped, wiping her lips as she glared, “Do I look OK to you, Detective? Do I fucking look OK?” Her voice was raised, though not yelling.

Snapping back David glared, “Do we need to decontaminate the room? Is there anything infectious?” He looked at her seriously.

Taking a breath her eyes pulled away, “No. No chemicals. But it’s toxic none the less.”

Her voice was quiet as she spoke the words, closing her eyes and trying to forget what she had just seen. Experienced. Felt in her gut. Her soul had been torn forth in that moment and the timing of the CD was so tragically horrifying. For a brief moment of paranoia she wondered if perhaps someone had been able to access her personal phone, heard what she was listening to. The artist. The song.

Getting up rather quickly, Y/N stumbled slightly as she made her way through the people that had clustered, watching as two other detectives came rushing forward with evidence collecting items. Forensics would get it. They’d dust it for fingerprints and they would come up with hers, the delivery driver’s, the handlers at the warehouse… maybe a dozen people. And none would be the culprits. David would direct people to track the package and they would. They’d track it to some nondescript location where cameras weren’t installed and it’d been paid for with cash. She knew it like she knew the songlist on that CD.

Heading for the door of the precinct her head felt light, woozy, and she was struggling for something stable. Something to keep her grounded. Even as she threw open the doors of the building, those glass doors lined with metal, solid as hell, heavy as fuck, she ran out into the bitter air, feeling the cold devour her skin.

More.

She didn’t realize it but she was running now, into the parking lot, David not far behind, though he didn’t exist right now. Her sister’s smile was there, a true memory in its purest form, the smile she had wanted to see last night but didn’t want tainted and tied to this psychopath now.

Unthinking and perhaps uncaring, her hands grabbed at the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the ground of the parking lot filled only with cars, otherwise without a soul. The air was frigid as it enveloped her and tore her from reality. She gasped as the item fell, leaving her in her form-fitted white t-shirt and jeans alone, able to see her breath as she felt it stopping her from hyperventilating, the cold burning her skin, tearing at her and pulling her out of this other reality.

Once, during training, she had been shot. Not with a real bullet, of course, but shot none the less. A rubber bullet the academy insisted they feel the impact of to know what they might use in certain circumstances. And, perhaps, be prepared for since it’d be similar to a bullet hitting a bulletproof vest. The bullet had been fired by some complete and utter asshole Thomas Engleson, a man who didn’t think women could hack it. He shot her in the ribcage, instead of the stomach. He hit her directly. Not indirectly. And of course he was excused for it.

The pain of the shot had been incredible but she had gritted her teeth and taken it in. A cracked rib meant she was out for a bit, but it didn’t actually stop her. She kept training. Moving. Not exacerbating the damage but doing just enough to keep going. But the pain of that moment had been etched into her body’s memory.

This hurt worse.

Her skin was covered in goosebumps from the cold, beginning to shiver as she stood, perhaps for ten minutes, David standing behind her as he looked at her. This woman unshaken by so much, who had taken in twelve dead bodies and kept going, who took information meant to terrify and had kept pushing. Whatever had been in that note, in that box, had been meant just for her on a level those notes for David never touched.

It felt like an ache, standing in the cold as he watched the woman he had found himself so fond of suddenly pushing out the entire world as though it might infect her. He wanted to grab her sweater, wrap her in it, and pull her close. He’d swear to god he’d get the guy. And he would, even if he didn’t tell her that. He swore as he watched her, that finding this man would be his only task. He wouldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t eat. This was Dover and Birch, but now he was the onve involved. His own life was on the line.

“Do you ever wonder what it feels like to die, David?” The words were loud enough for him to hear, the wind suddenly picking up as she stared ahead to the road leading into the precinct, fairly empty though cars scattered about, the day cloudy and bitter.

He took a moment to consider it. He had. He had wondered once, when the kid in his backseat was frothing at the mouth, if maybe he prayed hard enough her poison would go into his body. He could take it, he thought. Better let the child live. He had seen enough, “Yes.” He answered simply. Now was not the time for banter.

A sort of dark chuckle left her lips, “I used to wonder what it might be like to die. After my sister was killed, I thought it was the only thing left that could actually scare me. The world couldn’t hurt me any more than it did when I was seventeen. I didn’t want to die, I still don’t, but I knew I could face that fear.

“But now? God, David… I wish I was fucking dead.” She fell to her knees so suddenly it caught David by surprise, running to her as he grabbed her sweater, saying ‘fuck it’ to the world as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body to his as he tried to finagle a way to keep her sweater on her as well.

No sobs or cries escaped her lips as her body went lax, falling against him as she wondered, perhaps, if maybe just giving in to this would be best. This felt so goddamn dramatic, and maybe it was, but for good reason. This man had found out one of her most intimate details of her life and sent it to her in a box. He had delivered to her a piece of her, and what scared her most was the fact that this man, this murderer, thought he was showing some sort of deranged compassion.

Time seemed to stop and David was grateful for the fact that they were far enough away, and behind most of the cars in the lot, that the world wouldn’t see them like this. He could smell the free, nondescript shampoo offered by the hotel, unsurprised that she wasn’t doused in perfume. But she did smell of something. Her own personal brand of herself. Pushing back some of her hair he spoke, “You can’t go anywhere yet. You can’t possibly trust me to finish this case by myself,” he grinned, stopping himself from pressing his lips against her head.

Chuckling, despite her desire not to, she shook her head, “I sure as hell don’t expect you to solve this alone. You need my theories, Detective Loki. I came up with a bunch last night.” It was tragic in a way, how fast she was working to compartmentalize. Whoever it was that had sent her the letter had done a bang-up job scaring the shit out of her. He had opened the locker that held her sister and emptied the contents without permission. But Y/N was cleaning it up. She was fixing it. In her mind she was already putting herself and all those pieces back together.

Looking confused David pulled away slightly, “Don’t you think you should go get coffee or something? Take a- Ah, fuck, who am I kidding. You’re not listening to me, are you?”

The ghost of a smile crept onto her lips as she raised an eyebrow, looking at David now, “Not really. And I mean, what’s stopping going to do? We both know I’m invested. He… he may have targeted you and those other detectives, and honed onto you, but with me… I’m a happy accident. He picked me. I don’t want to be another body in a church, David,” her eyes changed as she looked at him, suddenly fragile and vulnerable, opening her heart to this man. Detective. The one holding her in the parking lot of the precinct while both tried to put together what they just went through.

Stroking her cheek lightly David whispered, “And you won’t be. You’re gonna get up, put your sweater on, and go back inside. And when everyone looks at you, or asks if you’re OK, you’re not gonna smile or fake it, you stare at them. Through them. None of them matter now. Not a single soul inside. We’re gonna find this asshole, and we’re gonna stop him. Now get up.”

He pulled away, nothing truly romantic in the gesture but one that broke her just the same. They were words that felt charged with something more than a pep talk, but instead felt like a true demand. David understood she wasn’t some person who just fell over because they were pushed. She’d stumble. She’d fall. And he knew she could get right back up and go back to bat. And as she stood, David doing the same, he watched her eyes as she put the sweater on. Something had changed, briefly, something else. Something oddly dark that he couldn’t put his finger on, but understood she perhaps needed. The same thing he had needed in his time.

Turning her back to him, Y/N made her way back towards the precinct, her feet marching with purpose, her eyes focused, laser focused, as she understood what this was. This man chose people. Always. He had a reason and a purpose and it was never an accident. He had found the CD she brought to her sister’s grave (though she suspected it wasn’t the same one), he had written a detailed note, and he had found the one thing in this world she was still so very vulnerable to.

Now she was going to find him.

( @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @detecellie @oscarflysaac @peccobagnaia @fgtakbrjbdl @doritosandavocados @miss-missing-patd

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sdottkrames · 3 years

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@comfortember Prompt 15: campfire

Summary: Tony takes Peter camping to watch a meteor shower

Notes: I adore space. Stars and constellations are so fascinating to me!!

Fun fact: The Leonids is actually happening in two days, and I thought that was really cool, so I incorporated that into this fic.

Also: the song is Jupiter by Sleeping at Last. I've recently become OBSESSED and their album Atlas 1 (especially the space songs) have become my Irondad muse. So enjoy!

Read on AO3: Here

While collecting the stars, I connected the dots

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not

I'm just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit

***

Make my messes matter

Make this chaos count

_________________________________

Tony’s concentration on the book he was reading was interrupted by a scream from his wife. Even though he was retired, he always kept the nanosuit close by (old habits die hard), and he had his gauntlet up in an instant, ready to fight. Then he looked to the window and saw what had made her scream.

He rolled his eyes. “Let him in, Friday.”

“Sorry, Pepper,” Peter said as he climbed through the window, but his laughter made it hard to believe his apology.

“Don’t do that, Peter! I might not have the heart condition Tony’s always griping about,” she shot a grin to Tony, who pretended to be offended, “but I would rather stay away from one.”

“Duly noted.” Peter shed his coat and sauntered over to the couch, cuddling up to Tony with no embarrassment. There had been a time that the easy affection between the two seemed impossible, and Tony was forever grateful those times were long past them. He put his arm around the boy, pulling him closer and picking up his book again.

“What’re you reading?” Peter murmured.

Tony showed him the cover, a book on astronomy and the physics of stars, and was surprised to see Peter’s face light up.

“I love astronomy!” he said.

“Really? I used to, but I started to hate it. For obvious reasons. I was hoping that reading about it more might make me hate it less.”

Peter hummed. “I probably should hate space, too, but it was always my thing with Ben. I guess I just refused to let it go.”

Tony could understand that. He’d never had any particular connection to space, just an idle interest in it as a kid. He’d started looking down whenever he was out at night, unable to look at the black expanse above him without seeing destruction and death. His experiences in the wormhole were soon joined by red dust and grey ash that seared his skin with grief and guilt. He had even started hating the moon.

But Peter was back, and Tony was trying to work through his hatred of and anxiety from space. Hence the book.

“You know, there’s a meteor shower tomorrow night. The Leonids. I’ve never seen one.” Peter sighed wistfully.

They continued their night as usual, but the gears in Tony’s head had started turning. He had an idea.

“What are you planning?” Pepper asked him skeptically that night as she got into her pajamas. “You have that look in your eye you get when you have an idea.”

“I was thi-in abou ta-in Peer sta-azing.” Tony was brushing his teeth, so it came out garbled and unintelligible, but Pepper spoke fluent Tony nonsense, so she understood.

“I think that’s a great idea. There’s that campsite close by that we took Morgan to that one summer. The stars were pretty spectacular there.”

Tony smiled at the memory around his toothbrush, and retreated to the bathroom to spit so he could talk normally.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Just for tomorrow night. You can handle things here, right?” He teased.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “As if I don’t handle things all day every day.”

Tony kissed the corner of her smile. “You’re not wrong.”

***

Peter sleepily shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, grunting a greeting unceremoniously at Tony, who chuckled and put a plate with a pile of pancakes and some bacon in front of him. Peter perked up instantly at the prospect of food, and dug in with gusto.

“I will never understand how you can eat that much.”

Peter grinned around a mouthful of pancake, his cheeks sticking out like a chipmunk’s and forcing Tony to use every ounce of self control to keep from pinching them. He was sure Peter wouldn’t appreciate that.

“What can I say? I’m a growing boy!” Peter took a moment to swallow. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

Tony's amazing self control apparently didn't extend to ruffling Peter’s hair. “Anytime, kiddo,” he said. rubbing the kid's curly locks. “So, I was thinking, Pete. You want to go see the meteor shower tonight?”

Peter paused in his chewing, eyes wide with excitement and disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, I just figured since you said you’d never seen a meteor shower, and I happen to know of a really good camping spot, that you might want to go.”

Peter nodded, jumping up and crushing Tony into a hug, squeaking a thank you. The older hero squeezed him gently. “You’re welcome, bud.”

After finishing his food and putting his plate in the sink, Peter excitedly ran to his room to pack a bag for camping. It was a quick drive to the site, so they lounged around, watching a movie with Morgan and enjoying lunch as a family before they decided to leave.

Once everything was packed in the car, they were off. They stopped quickly at a grocery store because Peter insisted on hot dogs. Tony was more inclined to order takeout and eat it by the fire, but Peter had insisted on roasting hot dogs over the flames, and of course s'mores because “what camping trip is complete without s’mores, Tony?” Tony was quickly learning he had no self control when it came to Peter, so he ended up agreeing.

It was a quick drive, and Tony reveled in the easy conversation and camaraderie between him and his kid. He never got tired of just talking and spending time with Peter, and it definitely helped distract from the slight worry in his chest about spending a night staring at space.

They pulled into the campsite and Peter stretched as he got out. Tony let him pull out the tent. Being Tony Stark’s, it was no ordinary tent. It was huge, for one; Tony was pretty sure at least six of the Avengers had stayed in it one mission. It also had the comfiest blow up mattresses, and a built in speaker system that connected to Friday.

Peter took one look as they laid it out, rolled his eyes, and mumbled something about glamping.

“Yeah, I know, Underoos, this isn’t the typical camping tent. But I saved the world, lost an arm, all that jazz. I think I deserve a little comfort.”

Peter let out a laugh. “Mmmmhmmmm. Sure. Are you sure it’s not just cause you’re old?”

Tony gasped in mock offense. “Insubordination. I’m eating all your marshmallows.”

Peter didn’t look concerned as he hammered the stakes into place. “Uh huh, okay,” he grinned.

They made quick work of the tent, and even quicker work making the fire. Peter made it a competition gathering firewood, and Tony called him a cheater for climbing up a tree to get some bigger limbs.

“Show off,” he muttered as Peter flipped from the top of a tree, landing perfectly. “You’re like a cat, kid.”

Peter grinned, and they got to work making the fire. It blazed, warm and bright, and they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky.

“Oh, Tony, look!”

Tony glanced up just in time to see a star streak across the sky, and he couldn’t help but notice it’s beauty despite how his heart started thumping in his ears.

A hand slipped into his, stemming the panic.

“You’re here. You’re okay,” Peter whispered, and Tony took a shaky breath. “Did you know that shooting stars are little bits of debris from outer space? They enter the atmosphere and burn up. Sometimes they end up falling to the ground, but usually they just burn and disappear.”

Tony nodded. He had read that somewhere as a kid. Peter pointed to a group of stars.

“That’s the constellation Andromeda. See that blurry spot in the middle?” Tony nodded again. “That’s an entire galaxy. It’s amazing how we can see it so well this far away.”

Peter continued to talk quietly, spouting off facts that Ben had taught him or that he’d learned from class. A strange sort of peace filled Tony as Peter's voice swirled with the crackling of the fire, replacing the panic in his heart.

“Tell me about Ben,” he whispered eventually.

Peter let out a little sigh. It wasn’t sad, more wistful than anything. “He was the best. You know this already, but he was the reason I became Spider-Man. He was kind, he cared about everybody he met, and he always made time for me. He was my hero.” Peter paused, and his voice went quiet. “He would have liked you.”

Tony sniffed back unexpected tears. When Peter first came into his life, he hadn’t known what he meant to Peter for a long time, but he’d known he wasn’t the kid’s dad and uncle, and he had been so worried Peter felt like he was trying to replace them or something.

“I’d’ve been honored, and know I would have liked him too,” he finally answered.

“You know, you remind me a lot of him. There was always a huge hole when he died, and you obviously didn’t fill the hole completely. Only he could. But you filled a different hole. You made it easier." Peter squeezed Tony's hand. "You still do. I’m glad I have you.”

All the fear, the sorrow, the worry, every mess he made and every bit of chaos that came with raising a child was worth it in that moment. He squeezed Peter’s hand, telling his kid thank you without saying it.

The fire crackled, the warmth washing over them and creating such a sense of peace that, combined with Peter’s hand in his, made it impossible for Tony to feel scared anymore.

And above them, the stars rained down.

#comfortember #comfortember 2020 #i love my iron dad and spidey son #mine

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siriuslyblack12 · 4 years

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chapter 6

Remus woke with a start, his alarm ringing loudly through the room. The sound brought him abruptly from a deep sleep, his mind not quite conscious as he saw a text notification.

Pads: morning handsome ;))

Moons: morning

Pads: can I walk you to school?

Images from the day before flashed through his mind and he briefly thought he was dreaming. It wasn’t the memory of Sirius’s lips on his own that delighted him the most, though of course that did, rather the emotion and beating of his heart. He was truly happy; having to pinch himself to contain it.

Moons: are you outside my house??

Pads: …

Pads: ofc

Smiling to himself, he rolled over into the sheets and groaned softly, bones crackling as he stretched. It took him a fair few minutes to work up the energy to get out of bed, another few to get in the shower and brush his teeth followed by another few to pick an outfit – though it was still the quickest he’d ever gotten ready. He couldn’t help but be excited.

Remus hurried down the stairs, his arms still searching for the holes in his sweatshirt, distracted by every buzz of his phone. His dad would have already left for work, leaving his mother alone in the living room. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he tried his best to sneak past her rather unsuccessfully.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, darling? Not even saying goodbye.”

Remus winced and turned to his mother, “I’m sorry, I’m meeting someone.”

“It’s quite alright,” She smiled brightly. “It might be a good idea to tie your shoes though.”

As looked down he saw that his shoes were in fact untied, which he fixed and rose to kiss her cheek. “And tell Sirius to put on his jacket, the poor boy looks freezing.”

“I will-“ He paused after registering what she had said. “How did you know it was Sirius?” Does she know something? I wasn’t ready to tell her yet, this is bad.

“He’s been standing there for half an hour.”

Remus nodded and sighed, “Of course he has. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a nice day!”

With a final goodbye to his mum, he left the house with a skip in his step, slowing it as he approached Sirius. The two smiled giddily at each other, walking side by side until they were out of sight of the house, strangely silent.

“So… did you-, are you-,” Remus stuttered. “Where’s James?”

Sirius took his hands out of his pockets. “At school by now, most likely. He’s really excited by the way.”

“Excited about what?”

“You know, this. Us,” He gestured between them, earning a blush from Remus. They fell back into silence and subconsciously walked closer together, hand brushing slightly. “And I had swimming again, being the captain gives me a lot to live up to.”

Remus questioned him, prompting him to continue. “Every year Coach chooses a new team captain to help everything stay in order, it’s mainly running drills and training younger swimmers. I get a free t-shirt, so that’s a bonus.”

“I thought you said your coach hates you,” He supplied knowingly.

“He does! That’s what was weird about it.”

Remus hummed, feeling courageous enough to deliberately rush his fingers against Sirius’s hands. The contact sent jolts of electricity through his blood. “Well, Captain, I can’t see why that’d be.”

Sirius bumped into his shoulder in mock offence, “Oi! I did not come here to be insulted, this is slander!”

“And what exactly did you come here for?”

“I mean, I’d love to give this a go,” He said hopefully. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

Remus thought for a moment, chewing at his lip lightly. “As in, like, boyfriends?”

“Yeah, I guess. Boyfriends.” Sirius tried out the new word, nodding to show his approval.

Remus was nowhere near as cool and collected as the long-haired boy, and so struggled to keep his calm, “Cool, yeah, that’s cool, that’s awesome.”

“It’s a long time coming, I’d say.”

That was completely true on Remus’s part, and he cringed remembering what was just a few days ago. He remembered first laying his eyes upon the scraggy boy, his hair at that point being tame and cut short, and the strange desire to be his friend. He remembered denying his feeling for years out of fear, thinking that being afraid of yourself was normal. He remembered having to leave the room every time a girl so much as spoke to Sirius, crying into his pillow at night because he thought he would never have the chance to speak to him in that way.

It was also true on Sirius’s part. He remembered the confusion he felt as the boys and even a few girls around him expressed their attraction to girls, not seeing what they were talking about. He remembered his fascination with how Remus’s tawny hair fell onto his forehead, or was covered by a beanie. He remembered standing bravely in front of him family and confronting what he was feeling, yet he hadn’t been brave enough to back ever since.

James let out a girlish squeal as they showed up to school hand in hand.

“Hey Moony, can I see your answers? I won’t copy them or anything, I just really need to see them before next lesson.” Peter said, leaning over Sirius to peer at Remus’s paper.

“It sounds like you’re going to copy him.”

“I’m not! I swear!”

James chimed in, “If you want to copy him you could just ask, I’m sure he’d let you.”

“I don’t want to copy him!” Peter practically shouted, thanking Remus profusely as he pushed his finished worksheet towards the boy, only doing it because he secretly felt sorry for him.

The sixth form common room was busy with chatter at this time of day. Hectic, yes, but in a peaceful sort of way. Remus glanced out of the window to see orange leaves falling from the trees, a similar coloured October hue in the sky. September had slipped through his fingers rapidly, running away as the next month came. Autumn had always been his favourite season. As he moved his eyes from the window to the boy beside him, it took him a moment to take his boyfriend’s (he still hasn’t taken that in) smile, his fingers tracing patterns on Remus’s knee. It had only been a week, but what a week it had been.

“Hey.”

He pressed his lips together in a smile, “Hi.”

Sirius’s fingers stilled, tightening as his eyes darkened, those caramel brown eyes that he’d spent countless nights thinking about and imagining. Now he knew that the pupils dilated after a long kiss and that they darkened, like now, when he was being mischievous. “So, I heard that the store cupboard was left open…”

“And this is relevant to me how?” Remus had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on, but was elated when he felt Sirius grab his hand, dragging him up out of his chair. “You’ll see.”

With a few protests from Peter, and a startling shout of “Use protection!” from James, he was pulled into said dark cupboard. Sirius flicked the lights on and paused for a second, faces inches away from each other as he breathed out a question of if it was okay, to which Remus responded by crashing their lips together.

It was even more amazing than he remembered. This time his hands went straight to the other’s hair, carding their way through before settling on the nape of his neck the same time as Sirius’s hands found his hips. Sighing gently, he felt as if he was is heaven: and truthfully he wouldn’t mind if he was dead if this is what he got.

Sirius caught his bottom lip between his teeth and spoke quietly, “I’m sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning.”

Remus laughed slightly, “You don’t need to apologise for kissing me like that” Before leaning forward to peck Sirius’s lips again.

“Kissing my boyfriend.” He reminded, earning another laugh. It still felt so surreal to hear that, and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Speaking of that, I want to take you out.”

“Huh?” Remus chased his mouth, the two kissing for another few minutes before Sirius could answer the question.

Sirius finally broke away and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him from distracting him again, knowing that as soon as their lips met everything would melt out of his mind. “Like, to the cinema or something, you deserve a proper first date Moons. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I thought you had a gala tomorrow night?” Remus said, looping his arms around Sirius’s neck.

He paused to think, “Then you can come to the gala. You don’t have to be there the whole time, just for my last race. Then we can go catch that new Will Smith movie.” Biting the inside of his cheek, he continued. “I’ve always wanted you to see me swim.”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, “Absolutely. I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!”

Suddenly, as they leaned back towards each other for another kiss, the door was swung open by James. “As much as I hate to interrupt, because I really do, Peter needs your help with his homework.”

Sirius groaned, “Can’t it wait?”

“Unfortunately not, Pads, however I can assure you that I will give you as much time as you want to snog Moony in the future.” He replied cheerily, followed by an exasperated protest from both boys. As soon as he walked back away from the door, leaving it wide open, Remus leaned forward for one last brief kiss.

“Tomorrow night, gala, a movie.” He said.

Sirius smiled against his lips, “I can’t wait.”

Most of the rest of Sirius’s day was spent staring longingly at the back of Remus’s head, jittering with the thought of a first date. The fact that that was something he could now do was exciting by itself, new and overdue. More than once did someone have to snap their fingers in front of his face to bring him back to reality. The worst of it was that now at tomorrow’s gala not only did he have to worry about impressing his coach and team, but impressing Remus too.

He’ll be proud of me no matter what, he’s kind like that.

But what if he’s not?

“Oi, Black, help me out here,” Marlene said from over the experiment splayed out on the table before them. The two always paired together for chemistry, though they weren’t as close as other people in their friend group. Sirius blamed the fact that they didn’t get much of a chance to interact, considering they were both constantly surrounded by others.

He put his hands up in surrender, “Alright, but keep in mind that last time we did a practical I set my notebook on fire. We weren’t even using fire.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t help then…” Marlene warned with caution. She didn’t think her heart could handle another Sirius Black Catastrophe.

Nodding silently, he reached inside of his pocket for a pen and began to aimlessly flick it, his mind elsewhere. He watched as Marlene worked hard, the most focused he’d ever seen her, as she mixed some chemicals or other into a beaker. He had no idea what was going on, but would most likely still pass the class. Remus used to tell him that it was so annoying how he could get an A without even opening a book. My boyfriend used to tell me that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Marlene offered, hands still busy.

Sirius laughed, “What was your first date with Dorcas like?”

Marlene raised her eyes to look at him, eyebrows shooting up into her hairline, and smirked. “We never really had an official first date, to be honest.” She admitted, “We’d been going out to that Mexican Restaurant she likes for a while before we were dating, and one night, my face stuffed with a burrito, she asked me out.”

“And then what? You combusted on the spot?”

“As much as I deny it, yes,” She chuckled playfully. “Why do you ask?”

Sirius tried to bite back a smile but couldn’t quite hold his glee back. Just thinking about it made him excited, “I may or may not have asked a certain someone out on a date tomorrow night. And I may or may not be nervous as shit.”

Marlene doubled over in teasing laughter that only became harder as Sirius folded his arms across his chest and pouted, “Hey! I’m allowed to be nervous!”

“Of course you are, and I’m allowed to make fun of you for it,” Her gaze softened as Sirius shifted slightly, still ducking his head and smiling. “What’s your plan for this date then, Black? You going to give him flowers and have him home by 10?”

Sirius let his head back and groaned, “Fuck off! He’s coming to see my race then we’re going to the cinema, nothing too big.”

The experiment lay unattended to on their table as Marlene leaned over to him on her elbows, which considering the bubbling of the chemicals was not the best idea. “Ah yes, because watching you swim is so romantic.”

“It might be!” He defended hopelessly.

She sighed, “To be fair, I can’t really judge. Just be yourself, be kind, be charming, be exciting-“

“That’s a lot of different things to be, McKinnon.”

“All I’m saying is to just have fun. He’s already head over heels for you, so it’s not like you have to win him over or anything, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Marlene said. She wasn’t the best at giving heartfelt advice, but in that moment she was trying her best. He deserves it, she thought.

Sirius scrunched up his nose, in mock disgust. “Being nice doesn’t really suit you,” She grinned, teeth showing, as soon as he said it. “But thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah… you can go back to being a little shit now.”

“Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted.”

Remus waded through the crowd, finding any gap he could just to get to the front. The heat of the swimming pool was almost suffocating, but it was worth it. He was finally watching Sirius do what he was good at. He was finally seeing a part of him that he usually kept hidden from people, yet it was something that defined him. But for all the build up he had given, it wasn’t exactly the magical experience he’d expected. He just hoped he’d gotten there in time.

A long whistle sounded, signalling for silence. A voice over the PA system made itself clear, “This is the final call for the Men’s 15 and over, 200 metre freestyle final. Take your place behind the blocks.”

Entranced, he watched as half a dozen boys, all about the same age as him, made what must have been last minute adjustments to themselves. They all stretched out their broad shoulders and prepared themselves for what was to come. Remus had absolutely no idea what was to come, and so scanned the group for a certain brown-eyed boy. When he did finally find Sirius, he was looking right back at him, long hair tucked into a cap and the shortest speedo he’d ever seen. Remus could have sworn he winked at him before placing his goggles over his nose.

How can someone look so hot and so adorable at the same time?

The whistle made 3 short sounds and the boys were stepping onto the block, placing one foot behind the other and holding on for dear life. Even from his distance he could see the muscles in Sirius’s jaw working overtime, face devoid of humour.

“Take your marks,” Someone shouted, followed by a noise Remus didn’t quite recognise and suddenly the boys were in the water. He was taken aback by how quickly it was all happening. Every single one of them kicked and pulled and did everything they could to get ahead, yet they were seemingly unable to beat the figure he now recognise was Sirius. It was astonishing just how in his element he was, not stopping for something as insignificant as a breath.

He cupped his hands around his face and cheered, “Gwed Sirius! You can do this!”

The moment was so intense, but he couldn’t help but be brought out of it a face. A face with an almost identical structure to Sirius’s but paler and more ill-looking, bonier and thinner. Shorter hair fell into the boys eyes as he too shouted in support.

Regulus.

Why is he here?

And out of nowhere it was over, Sirius was crashing into the wall and pumping his fist into the air. No one else had even come close. As he ripped his hat and goggles off his eyes found Remus’s once again and his triumph only grew. The crowd, along with Regulus and Remus, erupted into glee, a few stray members of other teams sulking at the immense support. High off of his win, Sirius felt as if he was flying when he re-entered the changing room, teammates jumping him.

Frank Longbottom spoke from atop of his shoulders, “Mate, you beat the team record!”

“I did what?” Sirius said disbelievingly. As soon as he’d gotten his time he’d disappeared, not bothering to check the technicalities of it.

“That was incredible!” Fabian applauded, gushing slightly. “How did you it?”

Remus, he thought. I did it for Remus.

Time went on uneventfully as Sirius packed as quickly and as soundly as possible, knowing who was waiting for him. In his mind the only person in the entire building who really mattered was Remus; as cheesy and sappy as it sounded. Whilst they’d only been dating for a little over a week, they’d been friends for years, meaning the awkward phase was skipped over.

“Pads, you were amazing!” Remus said, wrapping him into a tight hug. “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good.”

“I’m flattered, Rem,” Sirius teased.

He made sound in the back of his throat, arms tightening. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

Frank Longbottom came up behind the pair, not surprising considering they were in the middle of the foyer, and clasped Sirius on the back, “Who’s this?”

They looked at each other, then at Frank in short intervals before smiling widely. They hadn’t discussed how they were going to deal with this part of the relationship. The coming out, the PDA, the public front, none of that seemed to matter as Sirius grabbed the freckled boy’s hand and said proudly, “Frank, this is my boyfriend Remus. Re, this is Frank, the best backstroke swimmer I have ever seen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Remus greeted politely.

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it, Cap.” He said simply, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m glad he’s finally got someone to keep him in line, the man’s crazy. You probably know that by now though, huh?”

He tried not to laugh as Sirius punched the boy’s shoulder playfully, “Yeah, I know.”

They stayed to talk for another few moments, joking around and meeting a few other members of his team, until Remus saw Sirius’s head snap in another direction and jaw tense. He immediately started rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand, moving closer into the warmth of his space. As he turned his own head to see what had drawn his attention his sympathy grew and worst dreads were met: Regulus.

“Can… can we go now?” Sirius said, panic dripping from his voice. “We don’t want to miss the movie. Please.”

“Is that what you want?” Remus whispered into his hair.

Sirius tore his eyes away from his brother and back to the boy by his side, searching his eyes for any kind of comfort or guidance. He was conflicted. One part of him desperately wanted to talk to Regulus, to ask him how he’s doing and if he needed anything. He wanted to be a good older brother, looking out for him and caring for him and giving him everything he needed. But there was another part of him holding him back, the part of him that held all the trauma of his childhood. The part of him that left the house and hadn’t thought about it since.

“I-, I can’t do it right now, Re. I… can we go?” He pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t push it further.

“Of course we can, c’mon.”

It was only a few hours later in the cinema, lights dimmed and a mindless movie playing when Remus could give the boy the comfort he truly needed. Sirius had fallen asleep on his shoulder, as expected considering how hard he’d worked at the gala before, with his boyfriends’ arms around him. It was all silent touches and gestures but for now it was all he could do. He, of course, wouldn’t push him to say anything, but that didn’t stop him from wanting the boy to open up. Perhaps one day he would, but for now all he could do was comfort him in the only ways he could.

#wolfstar #as we grow older #modern au #high school au #first dates #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #remus lupin x sirius black #love #swimming #cute #kissing #wolfstar kissing #marlene mckinnon #peter pettigrew #james potter

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Having a whale of a great time!

Scuba diving in the Crystal Blue Lagoon? Check. Collecting pearl oysters and whatever else lies at Sea Glass Shores. Check. Crafting a bunch of cool floaties and braving the Shimmering Whirlpool? Check and check. Riding whales towards the sunset? Check!

Vacationing at the Sparkle Islands has been exactly what I needed! It's nice meeting up with Lenie again as well as Nico and Dewey. The Fairweathers have been taking a break from recording and performing so they've been focusing on adventuring and solo endeavors.

I can't believe that Lenie's a college senior now - where did the time go? Jimmy's busy with family stuff so that's why he's not with us. It feels like forever since I last saw him - but that's what video chats are for! Also, his kids are adorable and I'm glad to finally meet them as well as his husband. Nico's been globe trotting as usual, full of fun and exciting stories to tell us. Dewey's been taking it easy, trying to create a better work-life balance after taking on too much last year.

So far their break has been going really well. With everything going on in their personal lives, they could really take some time off. Artist's block sucks but sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it other than wait it out and focus on other things. Creativity can be finicky, especially when you've got other things on your mind like responsibilities, burnout, or a busy schedule.

I've been in a bit of a creative slump as well. From running events at the camp to personal life stuff getting in the way, I've been feeling off this past week. Like I can't relax because I have a million things running in my mind. If I'm expecting a call or email I find myself unable to focus on anything else because I'm too busy mentally preparing for having to do something that makes me nervous and often drained at the end.

Fortunately, I managed to get pretty much all the boring and stressful adulting stuff out of the way. But after spending most of last week being on edge, it's hard to fall back into my normal rhythm. I've been kinda on autopilot, just trying to get through the day. Up until a couple days ago I've been feeling pretty meh most of the time.

Usually, to de-stress, I turn to art. Doodling, journaling, knitting - whatever creative medium I'm in the mood for. But when you're in an art block, it causes more stress. As someone who's been journaling for years, there will be times when you've hardly touched your notebook in days, weeks, and even months. I have to say, though, since running the camp I've been journaling in a somewhat regular basis - especially when I started incorporating art journaling into it - but I still have times when I'm just not feeling it.

Sometimes getting your feelings out on paper doesn't help, especially when you don't have the words to explain exactly how you feel without it sounding forced or an incomprehensible mess of words. There are times when I want to write about something but the words just don't come out right, so I end up scrapping the whole thing. And of course, there are times when I want to write about something that's been on my mind, only to end up rambling about something else and going off on that tangent.

Then there are times when your mind is so fogged up that you come up completely empty. Up until today, I've been head full of fog, thoughts completely empty. Still kinda feels like that, to be completely honest, but the fog's slowly clearing up. I think the whale ride really helped with that.

As someone who believes a change of scenery and a good distraction helps when life takes a lot of out you, I find that I have a hard time following my own advice. I'm all about taking time to forget your troubles and worries for a bit, but yet I'm having difficulty doing so. I don't know why, but I always find it difficult to completely let loose - like I let myself have fun but at the same time my worries are always there in the back of my mind. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself to have fun, but not too much fun. As much as I want to let go, there's a part of me that holds on, making me afraid to let myself fall freely.

What's the point in telling people to escape their troubles for a bit when I can't even do that without feeling like I'm doing something wrong? It's not that I don't know how to have fun - though it's taken a lot longer for me to catch on than most people - but sometimes it feels forced. I don't know, it's always something I've struggled with - at least compared to most of my peers growing up. Maybe part of it comes from being a convenient person - one who doesn't ask for much, someone who doesn't go out of their way to bring attention to themselves - the kind of person who tags along and is just there.

It's kinda like I don't know exactly how to have fun. Sort of like I'm second guessing myself by wondering, "Is this what having fun feels like? Am I doing it right? Is this enough?" and of course, that totally defeats the purpose of escaping and letting go.

I have to say, being at the camp as helped a lot in terms of teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy the good times to the fullest. It's still a bit of a new concept for me, but at least I'm coming out of my shell - and that's what counts. Maybe I'll never be as carefree as some people - I've been told that I'm kinda low-key and serious by nature - and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I wish that I could be a bit more vocal and expressive and active, but most of the time I'm happy with being an observer and doing my own thing in the background.

It was Chai and Rhonda's idea to visit the Sparkle Islands. It was on the list for a while but for the past year the islands were undergoing a lot of reconstruction so a lot of places were closed. Leyla, who's one of the princesses of the islands, was behind a lot of the restoration and repair of various sites.

Turns out that I just missed her when we visited Maron Heights to watch our friends perform in After Hours at the Opera. Because she was so busy getting the islands back in shape, she dropped by to see the show the night before we came and went back home the next morning.

Like with Kat, Hawk, AJ, and Elara, Leyla's been going through a bunch of changes as well now that things are settling down. Aside from rebuilding the islands, Leyla's getting reacquainted with her mom Archer, who disappeared about twenty years ago in a disaster that left part of the main island in shambles for years. Having her back is still a huge adjustment for Leyla and her momma Rosie as she missed out on a lot. Leyla and Kat are pretty much on the same page when it comes to reuniting with a parent who was presumed dead for most of their lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, things are going well.

As for Leyla, a heated reunion between her moms led to an unexpected surprise - three actually. In about five months their little family of three will double in size. While her moms are terrified, Leyla's at the point where she's fully looking forward to having three new siblings. Sure, it'll be tough as her moms are out of practice with taking care of a baby (or babies). The way Leyla sees it, the 20 + age difference is more of an advantage because she can easily help take care of the babies as her moms will definitely be overwhelmed.

So along with overseeing the islands, Leyla's been helping Rosie take care of Archer, who's on strict bedrest. Archer's doing okay for the most part but the pregnancy has taken a toll on her, especially since there's a high potential for complications. Now with reconstruction almost done - about 98% according to Leyla - she has been spending a lot of time with her moms.

It was by chance that we ran into Lenie and her brothers as well as Leyla and her moms. Leyla's been dropping by to check in on us but it wasn't until today she joined us on a fun filled day of crafting floaties and riding whales. Rosie insisted that Leyla take a well deserved break and invited us for dinner when we got back.

Crafting floaties was a lot of fun and so was diving in the Shimmering Whirlpool. It does take some getting used to though, and one should be a somewhat experienced swimmer as the currents can get quite unpredictable. A bit too rough for my liking at times - not a fan of being spun around quickly because motion sickness, ugh - but overall it was an interesting experience. Definitely more into crafting floaties though.

Maybe I would be more of a thrill seeker if I didn't get so dizzy easily. I can't even look at something spinning for more than half a minute without feeling a headache coming on.

Late afternoon and evening were much more chill, thankfully. Bubble tea, sandwiches, and ice cream at the beach. Building sandcastles and breaking open coconuts. Lying on a beach towel under an umbrella and watching the waves. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago this place was left in ruins.

The biggest highlight was the whale ride. Leyla set us up with some of her friends, who were more than happy to let us hop on and show us the ocean. And I have to say, it was an amazing experience!

For a moment, I was able to let go completely. No worries, no doubts, no second guessing myself. Just bliss and exhilaration. A rare moment in which I get to be in the moment instead of being aware that I'm living a memory that I'll be looking back on fondly someday. It's strange, to lose yourself like that and not feel... weird? Guilty? Disconnected? Like you're not enjoying it enough because a part of your mind is elsewhere.

Riding a whale towards a sunset - what a way to spend an evening! I guess my takeaway from this mind blowing experience is that I need to learn that a part of having fun is letting happiness come to you instead of forcing it or telling yourself that you should be enjoying this. I need to keep that in mind.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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kathyprior4200 · 5 years

Text

Entrapta’s Nightmare

Entrapta happily slurped on a small fruit smoothie, complete with a tiny umbrella and straw. She used her other hand to pop a small cupcake shaped like a kitten into her mouth.

“Log 175,” she spoke into her recorder. “It appears that after several simulated scenarios of the portal’s potential, there’s a 99.8% chance that reality as we know it will collapse and get sucked in by the gateway. Best to collect as much as I can. Oh how I envy one who can collect data when getting stuck in a loophole!”

Had Entrapta been in the modern world, she would’ve happily sung along to the band Muse’s song “Unsustainable,” and compared herself with Fu, the mischievous purple time traveling ki from the Dragon Ball Super show. He would bend reality and bring people together to fight in the name of science and entertainment. Oh, and getting to meet and debate with Bill Nye the Science Guy would’ve been interesting as well.

Entrapta shook her head and laughed. “Back to the task, shall we?”

Entrapta was lost in the working moment, fixing up another bot and trying to come up with an alternate safer portal machine to make. She heard footsteps from behind her and turned around. Hordak stood in the shadows, glaring down at her with angry red eyes.

Entrapta, however, was unfazed. “Oh, hi, there Hordak!” she said. “I remember trying to tell you that opening the portal would be very dangerous and cause everything to be sucked in and blown up. So now here I am, coming up with an alternative interdimensional gateway that could be opened with other types of First’s Ones…”

She was interrupted with a growl from the Horde leader, his sharp teeth bared.

“You would dare let the princesses in, behind my back?”

Entrapta stared back in confusion.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hordak.”

“Don’t play the fool. I should’ve realized that trusting a princess could only spell trouble for the Horde.”

“I’m sure they probably let themselves in. It’s not my fault that I left Adora alone for a bit…I was just typing in potential scenarios on the screen to see what would happen if the portal were opened.”

“What’s done is done,” he sneered. He turned away from her. “And here I thought, we would be compatible…associates.”

“Well, we are still lab partners, right?” Entrapta pressed. “There’s no need to get upset over some minor setbacks.”

“This setback was not minor! I heard what Catra said, ‘did you really think she was on our side? Oh, you can’t trust anyone, especially a princess. They’ll just use you to get what they want.’”

Entrapta gasped. “She… said that to you? But that’s not true. I’d never…”

“I have no time to deal with your lies,” Hordak spat, cutting her off. “You have betrayed me and you betrayed the Horde. Your actions will have grave consequences.”

“But…but…surely you’d understand the dangers of the portal…and our love of technological advancement.”

“Maybe I should’ve killed you myself,” Hordak muttered, almost to himself. “Or banished you to Beast Island, along with the others who foolishly questioned my authority.”

“I’m telling the truth, I swear,” Entrapta protested. “I never let them in.”

Tears erupted from Entrapta’s eyes, even though she didn’t consider herself emotional that often. “Who will help modify your suits of armor and keep you company? Who will encourage you to keep going and pursue your goals? When will you realize…that being different is never a bad thing…”

“I don’t need your help nor your guidance!” Hordak bellowed. “I will get my revenge on Horde Prime and conquer Etheria on my own. And no more princesses will get in my way!”

Hordak yelled in rage and smacked her hard across the face. She fell down to the floor, quickly picking herself up with her lavender pensile hair.

“GET OUT, TRAITOR!”

Entrapta sprinted out of the room, as fast as her legs could carry her. Not too far behind, Emily, the round bot, hurried after her on four metal legs. She ran down the metal walled corridor, wiping tears from her eyes. From up above, she could hear Hordak’s voice.

“We are not friends, anymore…never were to begin with…”

In the back of her mind, she knew it was Hordak’s imp, using his voice to intimidate her. But she was too heartbroken to care.

“You wouldn’t, and yet you did let them out. You’re useless to me now. Useless…”

The word “useless” echoed off the walls as the blue imp flew around her, cackling as he went.

Entrapta swiped at the pest with her hair, but the imp dodged her extra limbs. She ran and came across the same screens she had typed in earlier. The screens glared red and a skull with crossbones stared back at her. A low rumbling sound came from the other room, and the hairs stood up on Entrapta’s arms and neck.

She could sense the portal opening up. Sprinting into the other room, she saw a figure pull down a lever. The figure turned around, revealing Catra, staring at Entrapta with an evil smirk.

Entrapta had been too late.

“What have you done?!” she cried. “Reality will collapse as we know it.”

“I only did what I had to do,” Catra replied.

Entrapta looked around at the collapsing room and the expanding cracks spreading through the floor and the ceiling.

“I have to get out of here,” she thought.

In the blink of an eye, Catra rushed behind her and stabbed her hard in the back with the stun weapon. Painful shocks of electricity flooded her body. She yelped in pain until her world went dark.

Entrapta slowly opened her eyes, panting for breath. Looking around, she appeared to be in a plain metal cell, nothing much save for a hard bunk bed and a hole that served as a toilet. A loud roar from outside jolted her completely awake.

“What…what was that?”

She lifted herself up to the window and peered through the bars. Vast palm trees and flora were spread as far as the eye could see. Ocean waves crashed roughly on the rocks and against a nearby cliff wall. Entrapta noticed a huge footprint in the dirt, which appeared to belong to a dinosaur. In various spots were animal skeletons of those unlucky enough to come into contact with predators.

Entrapta headed over to the door, and swept her hair underneath the small crack. She searched for a key or anything to escape, but there was none.

“Good luck getting out,” said a voice.

Entrapta looked at an adjacent cell and saw another Horde soldier inside.

“Or better, yet,” said another prisoner to her right, a gator man who had briefly defected to the Rebellion, “Don’t go out there at all…unless you want to get eaten alive by monsters.”

“Or get skewered by the savage tribes,” added the first soldier.

Fascination with the strange land plowed into her thoughts. Yet the sense of curiosity was quickly replaced by concern. She could still feel the burn marks on her back and skin.

‘Catra knocked me out…and sent me here. Will Hordak ever trust me again? Will I be stuck forever, abandoned by…everyone?’

“What is this place?” asked Entrapta. “I need to get back to the Fright Zone.”

The soldier sighed. “The place where “worthless” Horde cadets are sent to. Welcome to Beast Island.”

Hours later, Entrapta paced around her small cramped cell, lost in thought. Her mind briefly wandered back to one of her earliest memories, back at Castle Dryl.

She had only known her parents for a very short time when she was little. Both of them supported her in her pursuit of science. Even as an infant, Entrapta was endlessly curious, rather than scared of the world around her. She began using the short purple tendrils from her hair around the time she learned to walk. In her early years of schooling, she messed up on a science project, the contents blowing up in her face as her classmates laughed. While she broke down in tears back at the palace, her father said that failure is a vital part of all experiments. Adding to the conversation, her mother encouraged her to always try again…whether it meant following the steps, or taking an alternative direction. She had called it “divergent thinking,” a term Entrapta still endeared to this day.

Entrapta’s father was an esteemed inventor and engineer. He had been part of a team providing blueprints for the architecture of several Fright Zone buildings. He was an easy going fellow but also possessed a stricter side, (he was the ruler of Dryl after all). One of his better known projects was programming the training fight simulations for the Horde cadets. However, he had also helped design the holographic map which Queen Angella used for the Rebellion. So in a sense, Entrapta and her family had been neutral from the start. His eyebrows were dark and his mustache black and bushy.

On the other hand, her mother was a scientist by day, artist by night. Her hair was short and lavender purple like Entrapta’s and could even stretch out like hers to a lesser extent. She taught Entrapta how to paint, and frequently, they would spend quiet time together in their room, using paintbrushes of various sizes and thicknesses to create unique strokes of color. (The colors were mostly deep purple, white, and black, Entrapta’s favorite colors). Though her mother, Entrapta also developed her love of tiny food and cute animals. Soon, painting cute kittens, pugs, dinosaurs, and outer space became a regular past time until she got older.

Times changed. Entrapta’s interests changed as well…from artistic to technical. She began using her recorder to keep track of her projects as a way to stay organized (and mostly to keep herself entertained). When her parents suffered a serious accident, Entrapta was left alone with her servers, both human and robotic. It wasn’t long before Entrapta became totally engrossed in her research and work, isolating herself from the outside world, and then from inside the castle walls.

Perhaps it was a new dedication to create something grand. Maybe it was to make up for the aching loneliness she felt, whenever her mind drifted to her parents. Entrapta still remembered posing in between the two robots she had invented, one resembling her mother, and the other, her father. She made a peace sign with her left hand and held a wrench in her right, clad in blue overalls, her thick purple hair in two buff ponytails.

“What were their names again?” Entrapta asked out loud to herself, briefly back in the present. “I think Dad’s name was…King Pliar! That’s it. Mom’s name was Queen Rachet! Now I remember!”

Whatever the cause of her closure was, she would’ve been stuck with only her robotic servants and friends, had Adora and the Rebellion not entered her life.

But then again…would that have been for the better? Adora and the others did abandon her after Adora had been rescued. Although things were fantastic for a while, with her having the freedom to work on anything she wanted, things then took a turn for the worse just before the portal’s activation.

“Catra’s my friend,” Entrapta repeated to herself. “My data said she is based on compatibility, proximity, and mutual interests. How could it be wrong? My data’s never wrong.”

Yet her mind flashed back to that searing pain she had received from behind her back. Did Catra literally betray her behind her back? Or was her mind overthinking things again?

Entrapta took a deep breath and tried to focus. She had to find a way to escape.

#entrapta

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