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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months

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Shared Interests [Pt.4]

Daryl Dixon x Reader | SMUT 🔞 [Pt.1] [Pt.3]

Lily grows strong and you only get sadder, but Daryl helps in making it all good, but then you run into your past.

With the party over and everyone awake you spent your morning hanging out and chatting at the kitchen table. The conversations ranged from everything to nothing, just like you preferred early morning talks.

The brothers Dixon enjoyed their coffee while you sipped tea and played with Lily who's energy levels were all the way up.

Merle left as the morning passed, leaving you and Daryl to do some after party cleanup until you ended on the couch, tired but happy. "Glad ya ended up throwin' tha party after all?" A raised brow look was sent your way, smirking as he knew he was right in convincing you to invite the pack again. "Your family is great, hun. But we already knew that."

You slumped against him, enjoying his warmth. He was always so warm compared to you, who was always cold.

Daryl could feel your mood drop and pulled you into his lap. "Alright, spill. Wha's goin' on witcha?" His arms wrapped around you so you had no chance to get away from him.

"I'm tired. Always cold. I miss the wolf blood properties. My boobs are sore from Lily's teeth." You rambled on, letting all the frustrations out while Daryl soothed you, trying to give you some words of comfort but eventually settling on a deal.

"Ya know what? If yer bein' sad don't fade in a coupl'a months we can have another pup, yeah?" You smiled up at him, agreeing with his plan.

But even with the efforts to work around the issues of your permanently tired, sore self the sadness never faded. Daryl felt it too. He spent nights trying to drown out your loud internal struggles. He wasn't going to give in, he had to wait it out just like you did.

But with Lily being almost four months old now he felt you had tried long enough.

You slept early, putting Lily to bed before hiding away under the covers but Daryl had enough of it. He followed you upstairs and watched you be the softest momma to Lily and then joined you in bed.

"Daryl? It's so early." You wondered if he wasn't feeling alright for a second before dismissing that thought. Werewolves didn't get sick.

"S'early, yeah. So why're ya goin' ta bed?" Daryl mimicked all your steps, getting out of his clothes and getting under the covers with you. "C'mere. M'makin' ya a mommy again. Can't have ya always bein' sad 'n tired."

You turned to face him fully at his words. "Are you sure?"

Daryl only laughed at your sudden uncertainty. "M'a werewolf. If ya were one too ya'd be heavy with mah third litter by now."

His hand went to rest on your stomach before he flipped you over and trapped you underneath him. "M' gonna breed ya good. Just gotta keep quiet so ya won't wake Lily." His gravely voice melted away your sadness and replaced it with want. "I'll be good I promise." You felt him grin against your skin, his hands making quick work of getting your panties off and getting rid of his boxers. His already hard cock slipped between your thighs, his hips rutting against your ass. You were quickly reminded of his strength as he easily overpowered you, pressing you down into the mattress and slipping his thick length between your folds. He bottomed out in one smooth thrust, letting his feral side take over. "So sweet fer me baby." His fangs grazed your neck, right where he marked you and licked at the sensitive flesh making you moan out his name.

His claws dug into your hip and shoulder as he mercilessly fucked you until you were begging to cum, pressing your hips into his for more.

"P.. please.. Daryyyll~" your face was pressed into the pillows to muffle your sounds, but he heard your pleas and happily fucked you over the edge, finishing right after you.

Your body went limp on the bed, only startling back to life when you felt him twitch inside you. "Still hard?" You mumbled tiredly before hearing the unmistakable sound of him shifting. "Breed ya good." His distorted voice sent a rush of panic through you. The bed dipped further as his weight increased and the claws that held your hips grew.

"Hahh fuck pull out, Daryl!" His claws dug deeper into your hips as he held you pressed tight against him, his swelling cock easily tripling in size while still buried deep inside you.

Your lower body laid on the mattress as your hips were held up against him, drool dripping onto your back with his muzzle forming and started rocking his hips when his tail grew.

The sudden increase in size had you cry out into your pillow, the stretch burning and your hand moving down to feel at your belly that now protruded with the sheer size he was pumping in and out of you at an almost rude pace.

With his knot rubbing against your clit with each thrust you were soon coming around his cock.

And again after couple of thrusts.

Then three, four times before you were nothing more than a fucktoy for him to bury his knot into, pumping you so full of his seed you looked already pregnant by the time he laid down with you.

You were still passed out when Daryl shifted back during the night, the bedside lamp still on an casting a soft light over the room. He lifted the covers and took a peek at your sleeping form. Your shoulder had short dried cuts where his claws had dug into your skin and your hips were bruised and bloody too. He'd make sure to apologize in the morning, but for now some more sleep was the plan.

Until Lily awoke and started crying. It was only 7AM and Daryl woke up faster than you so he hopped out of bed, shimmied a pair of sweats on and went to calm his daughter.

As soon as he reached her bed he could sense what was going on with her. She'd shift soon. He held her close to his chest, rocking her softly and walking downstairs with her. He cooed at her and softly hummed a tune as he moved around the living room with her.

When you woke up you were alone in bed, feeling gross and sticky and in dire need of a quick shower. Except getting there turned out to be quite the challenge with sore legs and a busted hip. Every step felt like your knees creaked but the hot water quickly eased the pain. It did sting on the cuts, but that was less of a bother than scrubbing off your thighs and ass and everything in between covered in Daryl's dried cum.

Even touching your outer lips to clean had you wince thanks to last night's session.

Once you were clean and dry you threw on a loose hoodie and sweats and headed downstairs where you were met with Daryl who was walking back and forth along the couch, rocking Lily in his arms and humming tunes to her.

Yeah, you had forgiven him for the harsh treatment already.

He was so focused on Lily he hadn't heard you come downstairs, but she had and started actively squirming in Daryl's arms.

"Good morning, my loves." You walked up to them and took Lily from Daryl's arms and sat in your lounge chair with her, placing her in your lap and shrugging off your hoodie so she could feed.

Daryl hadn't paid much attention to your feeding times and so hadn't seen the damage Lily was doing to you until now.

"Man, I really haven't been payin' much attention to yer body. M'sorry bun." He sat himself down close to you and watched as your daughter fed, leaning in to plant kisses on the cuts on your shoulder and apologizing for the pain he's caused you. "When ya said she bit ya, I didn't realize it was this bad." He touched around the sore, bitten skin and silently prayed to the moon last night was a success and you'd heal by tomorrow. You noticed Daryl's glance at the ceiling and knew what went through his head.

You never told him you heard him that one night before Lily was born, out on the porch smoking a cigarette and speaking out into the night sky. He had asked for a birth with no complications and a healthy child, either wolf or human.

And just like his prayers had been heard you gave birth to a healthy daughter the next night, barely a full night between your first contraction and your pup laying in your arms. "It'll take, hun." You reassured him. "And if it doesn't we'll try again." Now that you knew you were both on the same side of the plan you got excited, the bad slowly starting to melt already.

When Lily had finished breakfast it was your turn. Daryl had offered to prepare something as part of his ongoing apology and you loved to have others cook for you. And Daryl was a great breakfast cook. You weren't sure if you could ever function without his cooking anymore.

He served up a large stack of pancakes. The ones you could eat throughout the entire day and pick at them even when cold.

"You're gonna hate me for saying this, but man I miss chocolate spread on pancakes." You knew you could just buy a jar and have it when you weren't pregnant or breastfeeding, but maybe it was better to just not eat it at all.

"Yer crazy, woman. Ain't havin' any a'tha in this house when there's curious pups runnin' round." Daryl made a really good point. The pups would eat anything they could get their hands on and get seriously ill if they ate chocolate.

"Yeah, you're right. I should really swear it off, for the kids."

"Yer actin' like we can't go into town fer ice cream some time." Daryl pointed his fork at you, talking with his mouth full. "Ya know, when yer not carryin' or feedin'."

Lily kept you both up at all hours of the night every night. So much that you hadn't even realized the scratched Daryl left on you had healed overnight.

It was only when Daryl had clung to you all morning, sniffing at you and melting against your skin with his hands over your belly that it all clicked and you shrieked in excitement.

Daryl turned got in his grasp and peppered your whole face with kisses. "Love this scent on ya. S' even better than them other dads say." He kept his face buried in your neck, deep calm breaths that had you relax against him too.

Your moment was quickly ruined by Lily being back to hiccuping and whining.

"I'll go get her. I really hope she shifts soon.." Daryl stalked behind you, keeping an eye out on his daughter.

There was no progress for two whole months, just lots of crying, lots of soothing and barely any sleep.

Still, you felt fine. As long as you ate enough your energy levels were fine. You just had a harder time moving around at two months with twins. Just one more month and your pups would be born, but you still worried about Lily.

She slept in the bed with you most nights now, it helped all three of you sleep.

Except for tonight.

She cried without pause, no matter what either you or Daryl tried.

He had changed and pulled her close to his furred chest, the rumbling of his soothing purrs not even quieting the pup.

"Daryl, can't we call an aunt or something?" But he shook his head, softly grumbling something at you. "This is fer parents only." You heard his voice in your head and perked up at the sudden noise. Daryl was lapping at the pup's fur, hoping the pressure would stimulate her change as you sat there.

Powerless in that moment.

Useless to your child and partner.

Daryl's lips curled up as he let out a short growl at you. "She feels ya. Think happy stuff."

You gave a soft apology and went to stroke her fur. "You'll be fine, baby. Don't fight it." You used words you learned from books, thinking back at that first time meeting Daryl and falling hard for the man. And then those days spent sneaking around with him and the interest he showed in you as well.

And then Lily. She was perfect in any way, from the first moment you felt her presence. You reached for her and pulled her against you, letting her rest against your chest on top of your bump. "You're a strong one. I can't wait to see what little human you looks like." She still only cried softly, unable to lay still.

It was close to morning by the time she finally started showing progress. You stroked her fur and a clump stuck to your fingers. "Eh, Daryl?" You raised your hand to him with the fur between your fingers.

His ears perked up and had his face close to her in a second, nuzzling at her and watch the fur fall away as she let out a loud cry as her legs changed shape and her muzzle disappeared. Her ears shrunk and shifted along with the rest of her head and you felt her tail and spine shift against your arm.

With some more soft brushing and her crying down to hiccups she now looked entirely human.

You carefully handed her over to Daryl so he could keep her warm against his fur while you went to grab her some clothes, making sure she was covered up properly while getting used to her new body.

"We really need to go into town. She needs more clothes."

Daryl had laid her down on the bed so you could dress her while he shifted back into his human form as well.

Dressed in his shirt and sweats he picked up his daughter and stared into the large cabinet mirror, seeing the three of you like this made him happy.

"Wouldya look at us. Lookin' close ta normal." You joined him at his side and almost wanted to suggest getting family photos taken. Lily in Daryl's arms with you beside them, rounded belly on display. Daryl could stay staring for days.

But sleep was way more important now when he saw you fight back a yawn and noticed Lily had fallen asleep in his arms.

"Bed?" You nodded in response and went to pee before joining your family in your large bed. Lily's tufts of fur on the cover would be dealt with when you woke up again.

To say you all slept well was an understatement, managing to all three sleep through the entire day and night til the next early morning. Daryl was the first one to wake, being the light sleeper that he is and took the opportunity to sneak out of bed and go find that stroller he had been gifted some time ago.

You had put it aside somewhere claiming you weren't going to need it anyways since you weren't leaving the house with a wolf pup.

He found it in the barely used front door hallway and took it to the living room with him and made sure it was all good to go before you were leaving to go to town.

Daryl didn't mind to mingle, hell he even had a job of some sorts as an on-call mechanic.

But first breakfast. He wasn't letting you leave the house without at least a sandwich in your system.

You had come downstairs with Lily while he made some simple sandwiches for you both and was pleasantly distracted halfway when you slipped your top down to feed Lily.

Normally the two of you would chat of you'd multitask but now you were intently staring at the child on your breast. "You stopped biting now, huh." You commented out loud and Daryl suddenly got very aware of his staring.

He made quick work of finishing the food and set it out before you so you two could eat together.

"Ya wanna go buy her some clothes? Got nothin' planned today, would be ta go out witcha." He knew you missed getting out of the house, and he didn't mind some time together away from home either so going out to buy Lily some clothes was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh man, I'd love to!" You beamed, getting to stroll along the shops again sounded amazing. "And we can now! Because Lily's looking human we'll be a normal family!" You quickly clapped a hand to your mouth. "Okay no we are. We are a normal family." You needed words to correct this. "W.. we now just.. all look human. We.. We'll blend."

"Bun, yer fine." He had made his way towards you and rubbed your shoulder in comfort. "Ya said nothin' wrong."

You two got yourselves and Lily ready and put the folded stroller in the truck bed before heading out. The whole way there you had a smile on your face as you talked about the different shops and things to do in town all the way up to where you parked.

When you got to the first store Daryl kindly took over the stroller and let you loose, following you through the children's' section and picking out all kinds of cute items. Daryl let you toss it all into your basket and merely shrugged at the price tag.

On your way to the second store you spotted a crowd on on the other side of the road. There was a small church there and between all the people you saw them. A man in a pretty suit and a woman in the most beautiful dress, hand in hand as they made their way out the door to be cheered on by their friends and family.

"Bun?" Daryl looked around and spotted you a bit further back, having stopped dead in your tracks while Daryl talked to you to stare at the married couple. He had stepped up beside you to see what caught your attention and almost felt bad. He had mated with you, yes. But the idea of marrying you on human terms never even crossed his mind.

"C'mon. Wanna take ya somewhere." You followed his lead as he strolled along the sidewalk, stopping at a large bike shop and garage. "You worked here?" Your question had him chuckle and shake his head, before he put his one free hand on the stroller handle and moved to cross the road when no traffic passed.

Across the street and straight ahead through the front door of a jewelry shop.

"Go pick somethin' just no silver."

You were stuck. No movement, no thoughts. "Daryl.. what?" He stepped over with a smile. "Anythin' my girl wants, she gets. An' pick one fer me too."

The store clerk looked at the interaction and gave it an 'only slightly strange' on the scale of folks that came in. The man surely didn't look like the ones that usually came into the shop.

"So, no silver, madam?" You perked up at the salesman's voice. "Yes, no. Allergies." He game you a kind smile, seeing you were clearly brought here without prior knowledge.

You were shown a selection of golden bands but none of them really spoke to you. The color never suited you so you moved on to the silver colored materials. "These here contain no silver, I hope one of these suits your wishes." You took your time to really taking in all the designs and different types of stones in the rings while Daryl browsed some designer items on the glass wall. He hadn't bought stuff for himself in a while and the leather and chain bracelets and big rings in the cabinet really spoke to him.

He waved over the salesman for some items while you continued to browse the rings, having taken a few to look at closer before moving on to the next box while Daryl finished his purchase and added the accessories to his current outfit and putting the boxes with your previous purchases.

"Hey, Daryl. Come look at these." You called him over from where he stood, checking on Lily who slept in her stroller.

"I'll love anythin' ya pick. Man knows ma ring size so yer all good."

You rolled your eyes but admired his trust.

"These are without silver too, right?" You pointed at a set that caught your eye. "Yes, but know this is the most pricey box you're browsing. A soft 'oh' left your lips and Daryl spoke up "she don't mind. Let 'er pick wha' she likes."

And thus the salesman dug for the right size men's ring and helped you find yours too. You gave it a good hard look on your finger and confidently spoke 'Yes'. You wanted these.

"Lemme see whatya got, princess." You happily showed your hand to him that held the ring, and held his up for him to take. "I hope they're okay." Suddenly shy your hand trembled as you held it out but Daryl took his without hesitation and put it on, giving it a good look with a smile on his face. "Ya chose perfect."

Yeah. You really did. It looked good on his hand, the small stone in the silver colored band being just subtle enough and the black band that laid against it fit perfectly with his tattoos.

Your thinner ring held a beautiful diamond in between the two entwined black and gold bands.

But when you caught the total for the two rings your heart dropped. Still, Daryl paid like it was nothing.

It made you feel weird. You had never discussed money with the pack being so self sufficient, and extra groceries were always bought by Daryl on his way back from a job.

But you kept it to yourself.

Once outside and away from the shop Daryl opened up about your worries. "S' easy ta save money when ya barely need ta spend." He had a cigarette hanging loose on his lips. "M' the only one in the pack tha works a steady job among humans."

You went to grab a small lunch together and decided to head back home after. You had bought what you came for and quite the extras. And you were admittedly getting tired, not being used to being out this much anymore.

"So, ya had fun today?" Daryl had an arm around your waist as he kept up beside you, all your bags in his other hand.

"Yeah, we should do this m--" Oh shit.

Just as you rounded the corner your breath caught in your throat at the sight of them.

Your dad. Together with his new girlfriend and Carl too.

To say you were terrified was an understatement. You were out with the man that was part of you guys' fight, your child in her stroller and heavily pregnant again.

You broke all contact after the fight and were in no shape to rekindle that connection right now.

Michonne was the first one to speak up. "Looks like her obsession got only worse after your great idea." She gave Rick a look, who only sighed and tried his best to see the good in this situation.

"Looks like you're being taken care of." He spoke to you, looking at your wedding bands. Carl was less weird about things and was at your side in seconds. "Can I see the baby?" He wouldn't peek until you nodded and carefully rounded the stroller and said hello to your daughter.

"You two have been busy." Michonne poked her head around to look as well, looking between Lily and your belly. Daryl chimed in now, taking note of your discomfort. "The whole pack's got lotsa kids. We wanted tha' as well." It was a clear statement that said a lot more than just that.

"So, you got married." Rick's eyes were back on you. If you truly did then he was truly a horrible father in your eyes, but you shook your head no. "We eh. We just got these today. Not married, in the human sense."

Carl was buzzing with questions but respectfully kept quiet, unlike his parents who all of a sudden seemed interested in your relationship.

"How old is she?" It was Michonne's turn again now. "She's six months." You got a comical look at that answer before the looked over at your stomach. "Two months." You replied to her silent question. "One more an' they'll be 'ere." Daryl still held a protective stance around you.

"Yer not gonna look at yer grandkid, brother?" It was important to Daryl that Rick knew he still held that title, despite what happened between you and him. But Rick was having a harder time with it.

Still he rounded the stroller to look and visibly softened.

"What's her name?" It came out genuinely curious, so you answered way more kindly this time as well. "Her name's Lily.

Daryl felt you had been social enough for the day and announced his leave. Using the excuse of you needing lots of sleep to head back to the car with awkward goodbyes.

A/N: The return of the Grimes family!! There's gonna be a lot to discuss between them.

The whole way home was quiet. The conversation on repeat in your mind, all the words you didn't say and all the things you thought they'd answer.

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #twd au #werewolves #werewolf #monster fucker

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lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety · 13 days

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Solar Character Ref

He/him; 5'7; regresses as old as 7 and as young as 3 (tends to stick to the younger age range now), goes nonverbal when especially upset

All flat teeth, no fangs.

Has a crack in his faceplate over his left eye from where his Moon hit him. His left eye is also damaged from his Moon forcibly removing it once, he had to put it back in himself.

Right eye is white with black pupil, left eye has black sclera and a gold pupil. He has difficulty seeing clearly through his damaged eye, so he sometimes has to turn his head to see things better.

Body is covered in various dings and dents. Some from the kids, some from Midnight...

No paws or claws.

Practices witchcraft, identifies as pagan.

Poppy called him bumble, bumblebee, and honeybee. Sun calls him bug when he's regressed.

The body he was put into is a basic solar model. It's orange, but everything about it was initially simple and basic. He gave himself upgrades that allow him to run off of a single charge for days at a time.

Has arthritis in his hands. Not only due to past physical trauma, but also from working nonstop on various projects. He wears his gloves to not only increase his grip strength and protect his hands, but to also mitigate some of the sensory overload he experiences.

Head of maintenance and had to run the daycare all by himself while in his own dimension.

I haven't explicitly said if he has autism (I left that up to interpretation since I don't want to misrepresent it), but he does have sensory processing disorder. He can't stand loud noises, bright lights, or just general over-stimulation (Yeah. Running the daycare was not great...)

"Ya weren't supposed to see that..." "He's...he's gone? Don't we have a backup? Or maybe we can restore his systems!" "No, come on. You don't have time to be sick right now. You're just tired. You're just tired." "Watch over these toys fer Papa, they're really special to 'im. An' I need someone big an' strong ta watch 'em and keep 'em safe. Can ya do that?"

Relationships with:

Sun: Solar still has days where he looks at Sun and sees his own Sun. In fact, when he crashes into regression (because this guy almost never willingly does), he still sees Sun as his Poppy. Not being able to see well out of one eye doesn't help things. But him and Sun get along well! He and Solar have mandated self-care days together, Harvest sometimes joins, and they all have tea together and unwind.

Moon: He and Moon get along really well. They spend a lot of time together engineering and working on tech. But every once in a while, Solar has to remind himself of where he is and who he's with. This isn't his Moon. He knows it.... When he regresses, he sometimes can't be anywhere near Moon. Other times, he wants 'Mama' (and who is Moon to deny him?).

Harvest: Like Harvest and Moon, Solar and Moon spend time together just sitting and watching the chaos. Harvest is trying to teach him how to knit, and he's slowly starting to pick it up.

Bloody: You would think that Solar wouldn't get along well with Bloody because of how high energy he is. On the contrary, Solar is drawn to it and you can find him tossing balls of yarn for him (much to Sun's chagrin, those are his 100% WOOL SKEINS-). Bloody is on the opposite end of the sensory spectrum; where Solar tends to be overstimulated, Bloody seeks out stimulation. But that means that Bloody has plenty of stim toys and things he can share with Solar. Bloody also likes to curl up on Solar's lap for head scratches.

Lunar: Solar tends to either be getting Lunar out of trouble or encouraging the chaos. Solar saw him when they first met and immediately adopted him. Yeah, no, he'll gladly take over watching Lunar every time he's regressed from now on, thanks. Solar is like an older brother to Lunar, and they regularly play Minecraft together.

Kill Code: Solar isn't really sure what to think of Kill Code. He's honestly still confused how he exists, but he doesn't question it too much. As long as he doesn't hurt his family friends, he'll just keep an eye on him...

Past Relationships:

Poppy: Poppy was immediately accepting of him when he first came to be. They worked out a system that allowed both of them to have control of the body at different times. They were also Solar's primary caregiver, especially when Midnight and Poppy had their disagreement. They did their very best to keep Solar from seeing Midnight's true colors and their frequent arguments, but they weren't able to. Poppy was the one to teach Solar witchcraft and herbalism, and Solar still strives to make them proud of him...

Midnight: Solar learned a lot of what he knows about mechanics and engineering from his Moon. He didn't realize his true colors for a long time because Poppy kept it hidden from him so well. Until that point, Midnight was his other caregiver and Solar even called him Mama.

Midnight is the one that caused the majority of Solar's damage. He sometimes didn't even state a reason for when he'd 'punish' him, he'd just grab him and hurt him. Solar prefers to do his own repairs, he doesn't trust anyone else to really do them.

#lwyd nice eclipse #em speaks #mun speaks #character ref #character reference #finally done!#gosh that took way too long...

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mentallyshattered · 6 months

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This is part 14 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

"A nightmare? Both of them? I've heard of familiars having similar dreams, given how common it is, but it's generally accepted that having a familiar is a nightmare deterrent." Vil pauses, his face pensive. "Generally, though, having a familiar means you won't have any nightmare you can't be woken from. And you're sure it was a bad dream?"

"Positive. He kept begging some unknown figure for help; it was something like 'please, make this stop' over and over again, quietly."

"Hmm. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll see what I can do."

"You know, Roi de Poison, I have seen Monseur Smoke go and punch trees quite often, until he bleeds. Every time, his attacks last one half-hour, if uninterrupted."

"That does sound like it could be related." Vil turns his head towards me and Grim rather suddenly, as though he forgot we were there. "Yuu, Grim, go and eat. You need the energy, and you've already done enough here. Make sure to drink some water; you two haven't been drinking enough."

Grim and I follow Vil's instruction and leave. Breakfast is avocado toast, which I'm pretty sure is our housewarden's way of making sure everybody eats a decent amout of something green instead of living on fish like the whole dorm seems to try.

While the ice water is nice, I can't bring myself to enjoy it. What of my friends? What of Ace and Deuce, with their tyrant housewarden? What of Korrak and Mandible, with their unknown nightmares?

"H-Hey, Yuu."

"Hi, Korrak! What's up?" Looking into his smokey grey eyes, I can understand why Rook calls him 'Monseur Smoke.'

"Not much, but I'm p-p-pretty sure we have t-t-t-t-to join a club. What club are you joining?"

"Myeh? We have to join a club?"

"Yeah, by the end of the week," Mandible adds, "have you seen the options?"

"Uhh, nope." Grim and I speak in unison this time.

"Well, w-w-we can all g-go and look at the opt-t-t-tions lat-t-t- Mandible, you know what I was g-g-going t-t-t-"

"Sure do. Anyway, do you two wanna go to the courtyard later today and look at the options?"

"Sure! Sounds fun."

Korrak looks relived. "Thanks, bud. You've always b-b-been there f-for me." Korrak turns to Grim and I. "Th-th-the speech issue is w-w-w-worse when I haven't eat-t-t-en."

Grim and I nod. "Isn't everything?"

"Fair point." Mandible seems to share Grim's sentiment. I hand Korrak a piece of toast, and he starts adding butter and avocado almost immediately.

When Grim and I get to class, we discover a well-rested Ace with no collar on.

"Yeah, housewarden Riddle must've had a change of heart or something. He's stopped enforcing most of the rules, and now Ace's punishment for stealing is helping Trey bake the tarts for the party. We still can't play croquet after 5:00pm, though."

I smile. Grim and I were right. Riddle did just need a hug and some time to himself.

The rest of class goes by without incident. It would be boring if I weren't learning the history of an entirely new world, but, hey, I'm in luck!

Alchemy sees me successfully using magic to catch a glass jar that got knocked off of a shelf. It "certainly would've shattered" on the stone floor if not for my "catlike reflexes-" or so Crewel says, anyway.

To be honest, I didn't even realize I knew a spell that could save that jar. I just panicked and attempted one I've read about. Good for me!

P.E. sucks, as usual. Ace stays conscious, though! Not without a bad sunburn that got him sent to the nurse anyway, but baby steps.

Lunch is tomato soup, which is the first time the main dish of a Pomefiore meal does not and cannot include fish. Even this morning, there were pieces of salmon for the avocado toast.

"So, Epel, w-what club are you in?"

"Spelldrive. Cain't wait fer practice t' start up, lemme tell ya! Hopefully I'll git bigger an' stop lookin' so-"

"Epel, Vil's in the room." Epel, despite having just been interrupted by four people, one of whom is a cat and another of whom is an opossum, does not delay his speaking. That's gotten pretty normal, after all.

"Whoop, sorry. Thanks, y'all. 'Nyway, I'd jus' like t' be a little less girly, y'know?"

"I g-get that. I got mist-t-t-aken for a girl all the t-t-t-"

"Take another bite of your soup, Korrak."

"Thanks, Mandible." He obeys. "Anyway, people u-used t-t-to think I was a girl all the t-t-time. They'd p-pick on me 'cause of that- you should've seen th-the looks on their faces when I beat the shit out of them."

Korrak laughs. I recall what I heard Rook say about Korrak punching trees until he bleeds, and spilling no blood for half an hour every time. Guess that's just what he's like.

Korrak doesn't strike me as a violent person so much as the retalliative sort. Why would he be violent? He doesn't start fights, he doesn't bully people, and he doesn't tolerate bullshit.

"It was always real f-funny, watching them s-s-suff-"

"Korrak." Our housewarden now stands tall behind the Korrak's confident figure.

"Uh, when I beat the bully out o-of them."

"Perfect." With that, Vil walks off. I wonder, why did it take him so long to react? Then again, this room is full of teens. Epel can't be the only potty mouth.

Korrak watches Vil go and shrugs. "That's life, I s-suppose." His stutter has noticeably improved since eating more of his soup, but is still present.

"Do you fight often, Korrak?"

"Only when I g-gotta. Kids back a-at my elementary school called me th-the gas st-t-t-ation, cuz I w-was nice t-t-to have around unt-il there were s-sparks."

Yeah, that makes sense. It's a little hard to imagine people pissing him off at all, but especially recalling the tree-punching thing. After all, Korrak stands tall and confident, with square shoulders and a smirk that suggests anyone who goes looking for trouble with him will find more of it than they bargained for. There's a spark in his eyes, like the sun peaking out from smoke, that makes it obvious: you fuck with Korrak, you've fucked up.

He's not shy, that's my point. He is kinda cute though, what with the hair- ashy purple and super fluffy. Combine that with his beautiful eyes and some teenage jealousy, and you've probably got at least one kid challenging him to make sure he stays away from their lover.

"Myah, we have class!"

Everybody's eyes widen. Evidently, the whole room forgot we aren't eating dinner.

Then, from various voices accross the room: "run!"

Luckily, Grim and I make it to class on time. Biology class is about morays today- specifically, the differences between cold sea morays and warm sea morays.

According to Trein, there's a trench that separates the sea. Morays who lay eggs on the south side lay two connected egg sacks. One side only has babies with magical left eyes, and the other only has babies with magical right eyes. The babies in each side fight until only one is left, and the survivors are twins.

Warm sea morays have nothing of the sort. Eggs can't be carried over the trench because the temperature change kills them, and keeping them on the side they weren't laid on requires keeping them at the temperature of the other side.

Cold sea morays can lay warm sea eggs, and vice versa. It's all location, and it's all very facinating. But, alas, class cannot go on forever.

MacGyvering shows us using drills as motors for fans, boats, and a variety of other things. Not really, though- we're making blueprints. Reasonable enough, if you ask me.

Finally, class is over. I hold Grim and carry him to the courtyard so he can sleep on the way. Korrak and Mandible are already waiting.

They wave. I wave back. Korrak motions to me to stand over by him, and I follow his lead. Beside him is a big list of all the clubs, pinned to the wall.

"I was thinking of joining the track and field club, but I'm not really sure. What do you think?"

"Well... what kind of stuff do you like?"

"The science club sounds fascinating. I've always liked all of it, anyway, but..."

"But what?"

"Well, I want to be more physical."

"You don't have to be in a club to use the gymnasium, Korrak."

"Yeah, great point. Science Club it is!" With that, he starts filling out an application that apparently just needed a few more fields to be filled in.

"Myeh?.. what time is... oh, I took a nap." Grim yawns, putting his, frankly, adorable little teeth on display. "What club are we joining?"

"I don't know yet. That's why we're here, Grim."

Grim hops onto the ground, does the iconic kitty stretch, and hops onto the bench. Before I can wonder why, he jumps onto Korrak's shoulder- the one that doesn't have Mandible on it- and onto my shoulder from there.

"You can just ask me to pick you up, Grim."

"Where's the fun in that?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. What clubs are there? Board Games, Mountain Lovers, Gargoyle Studies... out of those, Board Games seem like the best option.

"Where are the applications?" Korrak hands me one.

"Hey, you didn't even tell me what club you picked! We're both going, so we both need to approve!"

"I picked the board games club, Grim."

"Ooh. Sounds fun, I'm in!"

I grin. "We sure are!"

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst vil #m!yuu #twst grim #twst yuu #twst oc #twst epel #twst ace #twst deuce #twst disney #twst #what if yuu didn't want to go back #twst rook

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junkieboyfriend · 1 year

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Excerpt from new WIP - PDA | Sickrent

Mark likes to go to the park after dark. Mark likes to meet his mates there; he likes to smoke and do drugs there. Tonight he was with Sickboy, Spud, and Franco, they were passing a bottle of vodka one way and a blunt the other. Simon offered Mark coke but he wasn’t feeling up to snorting anything, so the blond just shared a line with Franco on a bench.

Suddenly Spud was spewing chunks in the grass, he must’ve got the smoking and drinking in the wrong order. Franco was next to him and viciously recoiled away, shouting at Spud for splashing him.

“Ah dun feel sae good, Franco.” Spud groans,

Franco rolls his eyes, “Ah ken fuckin’ well tell that.”

“Kin ye take us home?” Spud begged in a whiny tone.

Begbie huffed, “Why dae I have tae?”

Spud scrunched his eyebrows, “Ye were my ride?” he tilts his head,

Franco paused and sighed as the realization hit him like shit in the face.

“Fine, but ye owe us.”

Ah, thank yis Frank. Ye’re the best.” Begbie helped his stumbling friend to his feet.

“Got tae get him home before he passes oot. Have a good one, Lads.”

Simon snorted the last line and fixed his nose, waving to Frank.

“Sees ya, Frank!” He shouted after them as they had already started walking away

“Good luck!” Renton yelled.

Simon laughs and turns back to Mark, “E’s a heroin addict but he cannae do a bit a cross-fadin’?”

Mark shook his head, “Dun be sae hard on ‘em, he probably fucked up the order ‘a ‘em.”

Simon shrugged and grabbed the vodka, “Moar fer me!”

The blond took a swig and gave a sigh,

“Cannae believe ye’re tae chicken shite tae dae a line wih us.” he smirked,

“Yis dae heroin, but yis willnae dae sum powder? There’s no even a needle.” Simon taunted

Mark squinted at Simon, trying to look annoyed, but realizing that the blond might have a point. He uncrossed his arms.

“I’m no tae chicken shite.” Mark stated bluntly,

Simon quirked a brow and grinned, “Sae what? Ye’ll dae it?”

Mark nervously masked a smile, “Yeah, s just some powder…”

He was saying it to Simon, but it really felt like he was trying to reassure himself.

Simon starts lining up the coke on the bench, and he hands Renton a rolled up 20. Mark accepted the 20 hesitantly, his hands were shaking but he was trying very hard to not make it noticeable. His heart was racing – was he really going to do this? Why did this even matter to him? He does heroin and this is arguably more mundane… But he’d never done it and earlier he even rejected it… But when he thought about it, thought about how Simon talked about it, it didn’t seem so bad. Just a powder that goes up the nose; doesn’t even require a needle…

He stared at the line for a moment but realized he didn’t want Simon to see him so hesitant and so afraid. So he quickly bent over the bench and put the 20 under his nostril, almost flush against the skin. He glanced nervously at Simon and their eyes met. That’s enough hesitation, anymore and Renton risked looking like a pussy. So he goes down, puts a finger on his free nostril to close it, and starts inhaling. He slowly moves the straw upward as he inhales, leaving no powder behind.

It hits him immediately- the rush - and his pupils dilate. His heart was beating out of his chest and it reminded him of a song he’d heard in a club. He felt amazing – he felt like he could do anything.

“Holy shite!” Mark exclaims

Simon grins, “I ken, right?”

“Ah feel… Ah feel…” Mark couldn’t describe it.

Simon leaned in, “Alive?”

Mark nods vigorously, “Yes! I’m sae fuckin’ alive!”

Simon laughs a bit at Mark’s instant uptick in mood and energy.

“Thank yis fer introducin’ us Si! Ah’m sae happy, Ah could kiss ye!”

The blond raises his eyebrows, “Eh, what’s stoppin’ yis?”

Mark blushed a bit but the pumping in his veins and the adrenaline refused to let him turn away.

Renton locks eyes with Simon and, after a moment of silence, Mark leans in and kisses Simon. His heart was beating even faster than before and Mark wasn’t sure that was possible. More remarkably, though, Simon wasn’t pulling away and was reciprocating. Mark needs to be closer and, under the spell of adrenaline, crawls onto Simon’s lap.

“Yis sure we should dae this here?” Mark whispers against Simon’s mouth.

“Ah would shag yew on any surface Ah could have yew, Rents.”

Mark moans lowly as Simon kisses his neck,

“An’ Ah dun care if the world sees, Mark. Ah’ll take yew whenever ye’ll have us.”

#trainspotting #mark/simon #mark renton #simon david williamson #simon #sickboy #rentboy #sickrent #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanficiton

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galactic-aesir · 1 year

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I said I wasn’t going to do this and look at me now... So here’s Chapter 1 of ??? of Pre-Existing Nonsense! A Rise/2003 crossover that I told myself a few days ago I didn’t have the time to write. Oops!

Read it here on AO3.

Chapter 1 - Those Come With A Warning Label For A Reason

Tide pods.

That's all Leo could think about. Tide pods.

Were there more important things he should be thinking about? Probably. But could he help himself? Not really! It's hardly his fault that the swirly portal looked kind of like that time he threw up after Donnie dared him to do the Tide Pod Challenge.

(Donnie had, in fact, not told his brother anything of the sort. In fact, if one had access to the Lair's substantial security camera footage, one would find that Donnie had told his brother something along the lines of "you cannot possibly be that dumb– what are you doing– NARDO PUT THAT DOWN–!")

So, yeah: Tide Pods.

The portal was big and glowing and 85% not intentional. Its swirling mass floated a dozen feet in the air in a wide circle like the world's most inconvenient door. It twirled with a current, animating undulating waves of blue and orange energy that flowed together but refused to mix. Like thick oil in brackish water.

Now, Leo, he'd seen and made his fair share of portals in his hayday so portals themselves weren't concerning. Kind of par for the course at this point. The orange was relatively new. They'd been so afraid of Mikey's new powers after the prison dimension portal bit that they'd collectively refused to let their littlest brother try to make another portal for months after the whole Kraang thing. Barry had finally convinced them to stop babying him about it just a few weeks back. So, overall: orange portal? Not a big deal.

The color combo was new, but even then it was kind of expected. They had, just moments ago, been training on new ways to combo their mystic powers after all.

No, no, the concerning part that had Leo and all his brothers slack jawed was the pile of freshly 'ported turtles (?) that had fallen out of it.

The intruders were currently too busy trying to untangle themselves in the middle of the living room floor to notice their surroundings or their accidental B&E.

"So… that hurt," one of them groaned.

"Why am I always at the bottom?" Another one whined from the bottom of the pile.

"Hey! Watch those sais!" A third replied with a wince.

"Will you please just move already?!" The fourth yelled.

With a few quick movements the (yep, those sure were) turtles had straightened themselves out and Leo and his brothers were left looking at… themselves?

Four white-eyed turtles, each with a bandanna tied around their eyes: purple, orange, blue, red, with ninja-type weapons tied around their belts and shells. Hoh boy. Leo felt a headache coming.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud!!" The Other Raph (apparently??) cried out before falling to his knees in a dramatic show that would've put Donnie's theater kid sensibilities to shame. "Fer once! Just once! That's all I'm askin'! One ninja-flipping week without alien teleporters, time windows or interdimensional doohickeys!!"

The Raph (?) had punctuated every exclamation with a punch to the, now cracked, floor. Distantly, Leo thought it was a shame, after all they didn't make tiled subway floors like they used to and it would take him days to find the right material to fix it and oh right other turtles he should probably pay attention.

The Other Donnie was offering his brother a few consoling pats with a smile that curled slightly too much around the corners to be entirely sympathetic.

"There, there," he said. "We can always go back through the-"

With that, the glowing Tide Pod portal made a noise like a wobbling sheet of tin and blinked out of existence with a gurgle.

"Uhh," the purple bandanna'd turtle said. "Guess I spoke too soon?"

"Just had ta open your mouth, huh, brainiac?"

"Oh, so this is my fault now?"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The two brothers erupted in an impromptu wrestling match on the floor with Other Mikey joining apparently just for fun. Leo's own counterpart heaved a sigh and caught his eye.

"Um. I suppose that means we'll be staying here for a while then?"

Leo looked to his own brothers who were still scraping their jaws off the metaphorical floor. He grinned at them with a forced smile.

"Dibs on not telling Dad!"

#tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #my writes #me early this week: i dont have time to write a fic #me today: by talos this cant be happening #i cant guaratee that ill even get close to finishing this #but might as well get it out in the open i guess #also please dont take this seriously #im just having a funny goofy time with this #hamato leonardo #hamato donatello #hamato michelangelo #hamato raphael #featuring my bad sense of humour

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healbellls · 4 months

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@celestiialnotes has sent:A hand gently covers the top of Drake's glass, giving him a moment to catch his attention. It doesn't take long, pressing a kiss to his lips right as midnight passes by and leaps them into another year."Happy New Year, Drake," Drayden says, letting Drake have his drink back

It was always a wonderful time, to be on land whenever New Years eve came around. Most establishments thrived and were chock full of people, all of which seemed to be sharing the same energy.

Drake was observing a large crowd of loud friends, in the other side of the bar, ever so absently-minded. His attention wasn't entirely on his good friend, Drayden. The countdown was closing in, and he wanted to make sure, he wouldn't miss out on it.

That was until the other made his move, it timed perfectly with the countdown that had become background noise to him, at that point.

There wasn't even proper time for him to register it.

All he could focus on was the sensation of their lips locking into a surprisingly, tender kiss. His eyes shot up but, swiftly fluttered them shut, as he promptly reciprocated it. When their lips parted, he took a deep breath, which was subsequently followed up by a sigh. His gaze locked onto the other's eyes, and maintained his silence for a little longer.

The E4 member didn't bother asking for an explanation, it didn't matter to him. Truth is, he didn't want to ruin the air around them. A part of him definetely wanted a tad more from it. In a surprising turn, he had completely forgotten about his cup, and proceeded to hold Drayden's gloved hand.

A low huff came from him before he broke his silence. "Here's fer another year, in yer company... My friend." He responded in a deep tone of voice, with a grin forming on his face. His face cheeks were slightly flustered up, and for once the alcohol wasn't solely to be blamed for it.

While the other patrons celebrated the new year's arrival. Drake initiated and pursued another kiss from Drayden. His hat was crucial, to shield the view of it.

#▸ e4 member drake : ic ◂#ship tag tba #my god it broke him.. JLJBDFKB #thank you for the ask!#celestiialnotes #sobbingggggggggg i love themmm

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pilotearth54 · 2 years

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#de btc #euro

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gamenu · 2 years

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“No...Aluin didn’ do nuffin’ wrong...” Still curled up within his fur for warmth, she’s working on trying to recover some of her energy. But Nicole didn’t even have enough to get food or water to try helping. Instead, she does as most mammals do and simply sought out comfort.

“I’ was his dad...he asked ta feed an’ I said sure...bu’ I think he fergo’ he has ta limi’ himself...” Aluin, Alois, and Amber all remembered they had to limit themselves when feeding from her. They were essentially sharing her as a feeding source, and anyone of them taking too much could cause a lot of harm.

Amathaon forgot that fact, didn’t he? He was so busy it was easy to see how he could. Bandit shouldn’t have to worry too much. “’m sorry if I ge’ blood on youse...I fergo’ ta look fer a bandaid..”

( @banditborn from ✨ )

#banditborn

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Mad Dogs

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction. This scene occurs at the start of Ch. 12 in the romantic route! Approx. 2600 words.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Keeping Secrets

Mitsuhide sat beside his little mouse, sharing space at the desk in their rooms. A packet of letters sat open in front of him, missives from Kyubei and his distant intelligence network. They were closing in on the shogun’s location. Ashikaga’s hiding spot was down to two holes he might have crawled into. Both had features to recommend them.

Nearness to reliable roads, distance from well-maintained lands. Space to accommodate his collected forces. Mitsuhide closed his eyes in thought.

“I’ll ask for some tea,” his little one said, and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I thought I was the mindreader,” he smiled.

She laughed softly. “Another skill I learned from you, hm?”

Mitsuhide felt a burst of warmth, and would have pulled her into his arms had he not caught the soft chime of bells on the stairs below. His smile turned sharp as he stood, placing himself between the door and his beloved.

“What -” she started to ask, interrupted by the door sliding open and the sound of a harsh, wild laugh.

“Motonari works fast,” Mitsuhide muttered. “This will be our next ally.” He hoped. This meeting was an even bigger risk than Mouri had been.

He heard her whisper under her breath. “I hope we get a cleric. Someone with a lawful alignment, at least.” It was an odd thing to say, but strangely accurate, considering.

“Special delivery,” Motonari called out as he entered the room and presented the figure behind him.

“I assume you’ve called me here to perform your last rites, Mitsuhide Akechi.” Kennyo’s voice was low and smooth. Like an underground river, steadily dissolving the stone. Unstoppable, unchanging. He was as solid as ever, his wide shoulders filled the doorway. His mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes were twin fires, giving heat but no light.

Mitsuhide met his gaze, acknowledging the shared history of violence between them. “Welcome, Abbot. I have been looking forward to this meeting.”

The chatelaine’s eyes went from Kennyo to Motonari, clearly trying to weigh the greater threat. She lingered on the monk, her eyebrows rising with a flash of recognition.

Mitsuhide wondered what she was thinking. Was it only surprise at seeing the man in person after all the rumors and stories she’d heard about the Abbot? Or did she have yet another secret she hadn’t shared with him? The need to know was a dangerous distraction and he worked to force his attention back to the immediate problem. “My dear, you should wait next door.”

She stubbornly shook her head. “I’m staying right here.”

He wanted to argue with her but Mouri dismissed the problem of her presence. “Forget the girl, kitsune. Let’s get to business, savvy?”

Kennyo’s glare rolled from Mitsuhide to Motonari. “I am not here for business.” He pulled his prayer staff apart, revealing the slim, sharp blade hidden within.

Mitsuhide pulled his own sword the second he caught the reflected lamplight in its metallic sheen. It was a good thing he did as he only barely managed to block the Abbot’s strike. “What a very sensible weapon.” He gave the monk a tight smile.

“I am not here to listen to you talk,” Kennyo growled. “I am here to send you to hell where you belong!” His advance was like a boulder coming down the side of a mountain. Inexorable.

The monk brought the blunt end of his staff up. Mitsuhide caught the blow on the flat of his blade, but the force of it shivered up his arm and left him open. Open to the glistening tip of Kennyo’s sword as it swept toward his throat.

The chatelaine lurched forward, her hands flying up as if to stop the monk’s sword.

Mitsuhide moved back and the strike that would have killed him only left a small pearl of blood at his throat. His attention wasn’t on the wound or even his near-death blow. It was on his little one, who stood awkwardly in the midst of drawn blades, her hands still extended. “Get back, now,” he shouted, his voice cracking with panic held barely in check.

If she was hurt . . . if . . . he couldn’t finish the thought. His little mouse turned her head to look at him but didn’t follow his order. Mitsuhide grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him and into a corner. With a wall on two sides, leaving him a smaller area to guard.

Kennyo’s scar pulled at his face, twisting the grim smile he now wore. “You are afraid, Akechi. Good. May your death bring a measure of peace to your victims.” The Abbot prepared for another strike.

Motonari’s shrill laugh split the tense air. “Come on! Yer not tryin’ ta leave me outta the fun, are ya?” He pulled his sword in one hand and his pistol in the other. His grin was manic and feral as he looked between possible targets.

Mitsuhide felt sick with anxiety. Against one madman, he was sure he could keep his little one safe. Against two? And one armed with a pistol? He would need to disarm or kill Mouri first. Kennyo was a deadly opponent, but predictable. The move would leave him open to the monk, but made it less likely that his beloved would be hurt. He shifted his stance, readying himself.

“Thanks fer gettin’ the party started.” Motonari laughed again. “I was feelin’ lonely over here.”

Mitsuhide leapt at Mouri, giving the pirate no time to move into a better position. But Kennyo wasn’t going to wait for his turn.

The Abbot stepped between Motonari and Mitsuhide, shoving the kitsune warlord back. “I will not be cheated of your death!”

Mouri struck at the monk, forcing Kennyo to turn and block his blade.

Mitsuhide took advantage of the distraction, knocking the pistol from Motonari’s grip. The sharp edge of his sword left the skin of Mouri’s hand split open and weeping redly. He chanced a look back at his beloved. She hadn’t budged from her spot in the corner. “Run!” Mitsuhide kicked Mouri’s pistol further from him. “Run while you can!”

The pirate laughed even louder, moving as quick as an eel to dodge Kennyo and turn his aggression toward Mitsuhide.

The chatelaine shook herself from her shock and darted around the edge of the fray. Mitsuhide felt a spike of worry but in a moment she’d reach the door, and safety. But before she was out of danger, she stopped, turned.

Mitsuhide recognized the expression on her face. Naive resolve. That stubborn streak he loved and hated.

Instead of running, she shoved herself into the middle of the combat. “STOP! Stop fighting this instant!”

Motonari’s cackle rose in volume and pitch as he laughed at her bold - and foolish - move. But Kennyo’s sword armed dropped.

“That’s right! You heard me! Cut it out!”

That was perhaps not the best choice of words, Mitsuhide thought. But it seemed to work. At least, it brought a moment of calm as the monk and the pirate watched her. He calculated his next move should they resume the attack. At this distance, he could easily get his little one out the door, though it would leave him painfully open. Worth it, but he’d take a wound or two. Probably not enough to kill him. Not quickly. Plenty of time to take them both down . . .

The chatelaine put her fists to her hips, staring them down. Even Mouri felt the weight of her disapproval. His laughter died off. “You. Are acting like children. I thought this was a meeting of men.” One hand rose, finger extended like a weapon toward the Abbot. “And you! Aren’t you a monk? Attacking your host?” Her voice was hot with outrage. “Where are your manners?”

Kennyo took a step back, his eyes wide. “Are you . . . rebuking me?”

Her lips were set in a firm line, cheeks red with anger. Hot eyes swept Mitsuhide and Mouri up together. “And you! Don’t think this doesn’t apply to you. Did you want help? Or not?”

Had they not had an audience - and a deadly one at that - Mitsuhide would have kissed her. Battle-lust still sang in his veins and all that energy needed an outlet. He could imagine crushing her against the wall, his lips taking hers while his hands tore open that kimono to . . . he coughed. His little one was . . . entirely . . . too distracting.

She seemed oblivious to his thoughts as she crossed her arms. “Well? You have about three seconds to put up your weapons and prove to me that you are men. Otherwise I’ll - I’ll turn this party right around!”

Motonari’s lips turned up in a muted smile, unusual for him. Mitsuhide did not like the light in Mouri’s eyes as he regarded the chatelain. After a long moment of silence, the pirate sheathed his sword and picked his pistol up.

He put his own blade away and heard Kennyo do the same. He chuckled as she watched them obey her order. “To think, after everything it is you that now lectures me.” He bowed to her and then to his guests.

“Perfect,” she chirped, flashing the three men a tight smile. “I’ll get some tea.”

Mitsuhide could tell by the way she stepped toward the door that she was a breath away from falling over. Her firmness was an act. Convincing, but short-lived. He caught her by the elbow and helped her to the door.

She leaned against him taking strength from his closeness.

He kissed her cheek and whispered. “I am sorry to put you in danger like that. It seems I - I lost my cool.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it? You never let anything disturb you before.” Her troubled expression broke his heart.

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t want you to think about that. My actions are mine alone. Only I bear any blame.” He bit at his lip before continuing. “I couldn’t handle seeing someone pull a weapon so close to you.”

Behind them, Kennyo cleared his throat. “Who is this young girl, Akechi?”

Mitsuhide turned, his arm still around his little mouse. “She is a princess of the Oda, the chatelaine of Azuchi castle and my - my fiancee.”

“Your . . .” The Abbot’s expression was one of surprise. His hard eyes focused on the chatelaine. “Young lady. I have a question for you.”

Motonari leaned back on the wall, looking as if this had been the outcome he wanted all along. “Finally ready to talk, eh?”

“Quiet. I’m not speaking to you.” Kennyo’s gaze did not waver. “Why are you here, girl? With Mitsuhide Akechi on the dawn of his march against the shogun?”

With a deep breath, the chatelaine stood up straight, removing herself from the warmth and support Mitsuhide offered. She met the Abbot’s eyes without flinching. “Officially, I’m here to get in Mitsuhide’s way. To stop him from being reckless.” She smiled wistfully. “At least, that’s my job until the battle starts. But up to that moment, I plan to be by his side.”

“I see.” Kennyo’s gravelled voice sounded uncertain, a tone that rarely came from the demon-monk.

“If you’re done talking to my lit - ah, my fiancee, I’d like to speak with you about my proposal,” Mitsuhide interrupted.

The Abbot’s expression hardened. “I have put down my weapon at the request of this young woman. Do not take that for interest in whatever game you play, kitsune.”

Mitsuhide glanced at Mouri in annoyance. “I had hoped your former ally would put a little more effort into persuading you.”

“Pfft. Be thankful I even brought ‘im,” Motonari snorted.

Kennyo’s squared his shoulders. “I am leaving. Be warned that when I see you again, I will not show mercy.”

“Please. A moment more, Abbot Kennyo.” Mitsuhide thought courtesy and respect would buy him just a little more time to soften the monk to his plot. “You have reason to disdain an alliance with me, but you share a need to see the shogun dead.”

The Abbot raised one eyebrow.

“Your follower, the one killed in the Azuchi dungeons?” Mitsuhide assumed Kennyo would remember the recent loss. He saw the Abbot give a slight nod. “He was murdered on Ashikaga’s orders. Yoshiaki used that death to try and make it seem that you and I were connected.”

Kennyo’s low growl sounded more demon than man.

The chatelaine nodded agreement. “Yes, that’s right. He admitted it at Honno-ji.”

Mitsuhide watched the Abbot carefully. This was delicate work. “That death came after days of gruesome torture as he was forced to lie, and falsely confess we were allies.”

“Why . . . why are you telling me what I already know?” The words tore from the Abbot’s throat, a rumble of warning like the snarl of a rabid dog.

This would either win him to their side or provoke a renewed attack. Mitsuhide took a small step forward, just to make sure he could easily push his little one out the door if it came to that. “What other agents of yours might the shogun already know about? Perhaps another spy in the Oda forces? One my informants tell me is currently pursuing the shogun as we speak?” The image of bright, troubled eyes and a sweet smile accompanied the words as Mitsuhide thought on the subject of their discussion.

The Abbot’s expression shifted to one of surprise and barely suppressed rage.

Yes. Now they had him. Mitsuhide kept his expression neutral. “I am right, am I not? Your faithful pet, the one you snuck into Azuchi some time ago . . . he is the one you’ve set to hunt the shogun.”

Mouri chuckled. “Damn. You even know about the kid, huh?”

“You hellspawn,” Kennyo rumbled. He grabbed Mitsuhide by his clothes and lifted him up as if to shake him.

Mitsuhide knew he’d won this round. “Perhaps? But as you may know, my memory is quite poor. I find myself often confused . . . forgetting all kinds of things . . .” The Abbot had only to accept his defeat now. “I suspect that as long as I have proper allies in my fight against the shogun, this little detail will have quite escaped me by the time I return to Azuchi.”

Kennyo did shake him then. Still refusing to see the inevitable conclusion of this meeting.

“Abbot . . . tell me, didn’t you come tonight because your own fight against Ashikaga was going harder than you expected? Didn’t you wish for some assistance? Be honest with yourself, if not with me.”

Motonari straightened. “Come on, Kennyo. It’s not like yer marryin’ the kitsune. This is all just temporary. We can kill Akechi the second we put the shogun down.”

“You are both vile men.” The Abbot lowered Mitsuhide to the ground and released his grip.

“An’ vicious, mad, bloodthirsty,” Mouri went on, his grin widening until his teeth shone.

Mitsuhide straightened his clothes. “Yes. We are all birds of a feather. And to kill a man who barely grants others their place as fellow humans, it falls to monsters like ourselves.”

Kennyo’s nod of agreement was barely a tilt of his chin. “Do not expect camaraderie from me. The moment the shogun’s head leaves his neck, I will again seek Nobunaga’s life. And yours.” The twin fires of his eyes burned like banked coals.

“Your terms are accepted. Now. We have much planning to do.” At that, the three sat on the floor, together, but apart. Hands near weapons, tense shoulders, and terse words.

“I’ll ah, go get that tea then,” the chatelaine mumbled.

Mitsuhide flashed her a small smile. He was so proud of her. And so troubled by her. How could one little mouse leave him such a mess?

Next: Unexpected Gifts

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen motonari #ikesen kennyo #Mitsuhide Akechi #otome boys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

Text

Damstache - Stay the Night

(Sometimes... You just gotta be self-indulgent and write a rarepair. Bonus if you finish the fic and completely forget about it)

Damien and Wilford have been taking it slow since their first meeting. This looks at their first night together.

Word count: 1,460

Wilford was sure he was the luckiest man in the world. Somehow, despite his associations with violence and his reputation of actively seeking people in committed relationships he had a chance encounter with a beautiful man who was willing to overlook all that for a promise of honesty. All Damien had to do was smile, and Wilford knew he was doomed from the start. He couldn’t bear to consider the possibility of breaking the young mayor’s heart!

But as they started going on dates to quiet locations that Damien wouldn’t be recognised, Wilford learned something interesting. Damien had been so focused on wanting to do good for others that he had never taken time to look for a romantic partner of any sort and enjoy life beyond work. Anyone else who asked him out had been rejected. Wilford wasn’t sure how he avoided the cut, but he promised himself that he’d make the most of it and show Damien the joys of being in a relationship.

Date night on this occasion was a Friday evening in Wilford’s home. Dinner was ordered to enjoy while they watched a movie. They sat on the couch together, Damien’s head resting on Wilford’s shoulder, hands loosely interlocked. The reporter wasn’t at all surprised when he glanced down to ask Damien something and noticed Damien had dozed off. Being a mayor was exhausting, Wilford had quickly learned, which was why many of their dates were ‘low-energy’. Not that Wilford minded. It was a nice change from his normal approach of ‘fast, frantic and intense’, which in turn allowed him to better appreciate the here and now. Maybe that was why he was able to remember more of their dates.

A door slamming on the TV startled Damien awake, who immediately began apologising for ‘ruining the night'.

“Whoa, angel, it’s okay. Yer exhausted. We can watch it another time. I don’t remember what happened.” Wilford had been a little too preoccupied with doting over his sleeping beauty.

“It might be for the best. I should be able to get a taxi at this time…” Damien slowly stood up so he could start the search for his phone.

“Why don’t ya stay th’ night?” Wilford’s question had Damien freeze.

“I-I don’t think that’s appropriate. You’re a good man, Wilford, but we’ve only been dating three months.” Both men shared an equally confused look.

“Sure it’s appropriate. I wanna share my bed with ya.”

“W-what?” Damien’s face quickly flushed as he scrambled to grab his phone off the coffee table like it was an act of self-defense. “I thought we had agreed to take this slow.”

“I don’t see how…. Ohhhh.” At last, the penny dropped and Wilford laughed in embarrassment. “I wasn’t askin’ if y’d sleep with me. I wanted ta know if y’d sleep with me!”

“That’s the same thing?”

“Noooo! No, no! I mean, like, a sleepover! I give ya some sorta pyjamas, an’ we fall asleep together in my bed! It’d be like cuddlin’ on th’ couch except, y’know, not on a couch. An' we'd have a blanket.” The blathering explanation helped lift the stress off Damien’s shoulders. He glanced down to his phone and, with a wistful smile, put it down on the table.

“I think I’d quite like that.”

He wouldn’t tell Damien, but Wilford went out of his way to make the preparation for bed as goofy and light-hearted as possible. Even if they were simply sharing a bed, the miscommunication had made poor Damien’s nerves jump, and that wasn’t fair at all! It was why they spent a solid twenty minutes going through the contents of Wilford’s wardrobe to decide which pyjamas Damien should wear. According to Wilford, it needed to be ‘as cute as possible’, so not just anything would do. It was also a chance to show off his clothes, like the tank top with a cartoon pair of sneakers wearing matching sunglasses, or his pink bear onesie. The sillier, the better, all to make Damien smile.

“Wait! This oughta do!” A pale grey hoodie was pulled out from a shelf, and Damien was quick to grab the rest of the bundle before it toppled to the floor and return it to the rightful place. “This is a lounge hoodie. It’s made from fluffy pj material so ya can cuddle an’ be all soft in it!” He offered a sleeve to Damien, who couldn’t help but agree that it was exactly as described. It was hastily placed in Damien’s arms as inspiration struck. “Oh! An’ it’d look so cute with these pants! They’re comfy an' stylish.” The pants - black with pink moustaches dotted around them - were held out on full display with such bravado that Damien snorted.

“You really do buy everything that has a moustache theme, don’t you?”

“Bonus points if it’s pink,” Wilford winked.

The pair took turns in the bathroom to perform their night time routines. While waiting for Damien, Wilford began quickly tidying around to make sure everything looked perfect. He made the bed twice, and fluffed the pillows as hard as possible to make them super soft. Then, as he debated whether to grab a teddy bear to give Damien, out came the Mayor.

Damien was not as large as Wilford, which meant the hoodie turned into a glorified night gown. So much so, the end of the sleeves needed to be rolled up to reveal his hands. The pyjama pants had elastic at the waist, so at least they could safely stay in place. With his hair loose and casually brushed to the side, Wilford couldn't ignore the reality that he was dating the cutest man in the entire world. He would gladly kill for Damien.

"It doesn't look too ridiculous, does it?" Damien wrung his hands in a familiar act of nervousness. Wilford hurried over, pulled Damien close, and kissed both cheeks.

"Yer too fuckin' cute, angel."

The couple enjoyed cuddling on the couch, so it was a natural progression once Damien gained a little more confidence about sharing a bed. At first, they sat together like they would on the couch and chatted casually. Then, once Damien grew tired, they settled to sleep, opting to take a half of the bed each. Wilford did find himself staying awake a little longer to make sure Damien was sound asleep, before rolling over and dozing off.

Just as the sun began to rise, Wilford was yanked out of sleep with the sensation of something pressing against his stomach. His eyes shot open in case that blasted librarian in his dream had gone through with their idea of using the ivy from a garden store to put people into giant empty books, only to instead see someone curled up against his side with an arm draped across the reporter’s stomach and their head against his chest. For an instant, he couldn't remember what happened last night, but relief quickly swamped him as the memories came back to him.

“Mornin’, Damien.” Wilford lifted a hand to rest on Damien’s shoulder and rub small circles with his thumb.

“Mmrgh,” the eloquent mayor murmured against Wilford’s chest. He took a long breath in to give himself the energy to move, but only went as far as leaning more against Wilford to look up at him. “Sorry… I felt warmth beside me." His hair was a mess and his eyes were heavy with sleep, but Wilford couldn't shake the fact that Damien was utterly adorable. As though aware of the thoughts bouncing around Wilford's mind, he smiled as he quietly added, "Plus, I've never woken up beside someone before… It's a nice feeling."

"Isn't it? Lyin' in bed, feelin' all relaxed with yer lover beside ya… It's like th' rest of th' world doesn't exist."

Damien hummed in agreement, settling back against Wilford. "I should have believed you last night. I'm sorry if I made things awkw-" Wilford interrupted with a shush and a quick squeeze.

"I should've asked th' question better. I'm sorry for scarin' ya. But I'm glad ya decided ta stay. It's Saturday, an' we're not workin' today…" Wilford trailed off with a raised eyebrow. Damien, with a brain that refused to wake up, squinted at Wilford with a frown as he tried to figure out what was supposed to finish that sentence. Fortunately, Wilford could see the struggle. "It means we can go back ta sleep. Th' world's not lookin' fer us right now."

Now that sounded like a plan Damien could work with. He gave a content hum as he nestled against Wilford again. This time, he felt Wilford's arm keeping him close. As he quickly surrendered to sleep, the thought crossed his mind as to whether this was what 'home' meant.

#writersofmark #Wilford Warfstache #mayor damien #modern au #fanfic #fluff #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

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atmilliways · 3 years

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I was channeling exhausted Charles a little hard, because gd is moving tiring... I know I have some messages I should really get to answering, and I promise that will happen soon.

Anyway, happy belated birthday, @insomniac-pens!

Charles is couch surfing against his will; Emeto mention; Implied/Referenced Drug Use; Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism; Early klok

C'mon, Charlie, Stay

There was, for a brief period, a time when Charles was between apartments due to an unfortunate infestation problem that had allowed him to break his lease early. It allowed him to lease a much better place, closer to both his office and the new band he was managing, but with one catch: it wouldn’t be available for him to move in for another six weeks.

To his surprise, once the band found out about this they flat out refused to leave him alone until he agreed to crash on their couch. No amount of pointing out that he had the money to just stay in a hotel until his move-in date seemed to sway them. So, he dutifully shelled out his hotel money to pay for Dethklok’s apartment to be professionally cleaned and the couch reupholstered, and that was that.

Except, dear god, when did these men sleep.

Charles tried to think of them as men, but frankly it got harder the longer he stayed with them. Murderface had only recently turned twenty-one, and Nathan and Toki were still technically underage; that didn’t stop them or Skwisgaar or Pickles from constantly partying themselves stupid.

In the very living room (which they also used for band practices) where he was trying to sleep.

The last straw was when they gave Toki shrooms for the first time and he puked all over the coffee table, including the glasses that Charles had carefully folded and placed there before settling in for the night. Without a word of complaint or reprimand, he was simply up and packed and dressed enough to drive to the nearest hotel, because this was clearly not working.

“Dood dood dood, where’re ya going?” Pickles gabbled, dragging on the manager’s arm as he tried to head out of the front door.

“To get a hotel room, a hot shower, and a good night’s sleep,” Charles replied, although personally he felt that this should have been obvious.

“But you can do all that here!”

Charles sighed, resettling his duffle bag on his shoulder. “Thank you, Pickles, but we both know it’s, ah, only a matter of time before I get vomited on, and cleaning my glasses off was unpleasant enough.”

As if on cue, there were more retching sounds from further inside the apartment, followed by shouts and whoops of “He got the couch,” “That’sch twenty points,” and “Directs hits, everiesones does to takes the drink-shots!”

Pickles grimaced. “Okay, so maybe the kid wasn’t ready for caps. That’s my bad, I’m sahrry. But dood, you should still stay. . . .” He trailed off, looking around with a kind of urgent disappointment that Charles had only previously seen when the drummer was trying to find a misplaced stash. Then, with an uncertain grin, he added, “You can, uh, you can stay in my room if ya want.”

“Ah. . . .” Charles blinked. He was very, very tired, and not entirely sure he’d heard that correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s got a door’n everything,” Pickles continued, obviously warming to the idea as soon as he saw that Charles wasn’t rejecting it outright. “You can even have the bed, I can ride the floor. Which I can actually see again now, thanks again for hirin’ those cleaners, dood! And I think I can even find ya some clean sheets and stuff. C’mon, Charlie, stay.”

So, soon afterward, Charles found himself back in his pajamas. They were just the t-shirt and boxers that he’d thrown a jacket and slacks over to leave, really, which by his temporary housemates’ standards apparently made him a prude. He was also swaddled in clean sheets and blankets on Pickles’ bed, as promised, and Pickles had receded back out to the party with a vague, Sleep tight, dood. Despite the lumpiness of the mattress Charles was actually quite comfortable and, with the door closed and the lights off, fairly well insulated against the noise of the band’s continued revelry.

He was asleep within seconds.

Some time later Charles woke not to loud noise or something landing on him, but because he had to pee. Not bothering to find his glasses or slippers in the dark (though he was wearing socks; he wasn’t an animal), he slipped out of bed and shuffled towards the door—

His foot connected with something warm and soft, possibly a stomach, and someone groaned, “Oof.”

“Shit,” Charles muttered. He groped along the nearby wall for a light switch. “Ah . . . Pickles, is that you?”

The lights snapped on harsh and bright, and it was indeed Pickles curled up on the floor, red dreads spayed out like fireworks against the dingy carpet, without even a pillow or blanket. “Yeeeeeeah?” Pickles replied blearily, squinting up at him.

Charles sighed. The last thing they needed was Pickles unable to play gigs because he’d tweaked his back or neck sleeping on the floor—although, in the short time he’d known the man, Charles had seen him passed out in worse positions. Still, couldn’t be too careful while Dethklok was still starting out.

“Get in bed,” Charles told him.

“Nnnn.” Pickles rubbed clumsily at his eyes and swiped and the drool that had collected on his goatee. “You get the bed, couch’s fucked fer now. . . .”

It was only a twin-sized mattress. Charles squinted back at it, then gave a mental shrug. “We’ll share. Just get in, I’ll, ah, be right back.”

He stepped over Pickles and headed for the bathroom. Both the toilet and sink were splattered liberally with vomit, enough that he doubted it had all come out of Toki. He hadn’t smelled any on the man he’d just invited to bunk with him, which . . . was all Charles had the energy to care about, at the moment. He sighed again and just pissed in the bathtub, because fuck it, he was still half asleep.

When he returned, Pickles had already burrowed into the blankets in the dead center of the bed. Not in the mood to be deterred, Charles turned the light off and wedged himself into the available free space on the mattress.

“Mmmhey,” Pickles mumbled drowsily somewhere near his shoulder.

“Scoot over,” Charles grumbled back, and when he got no response gave another shove with his hip. That seemed to get the message across because Pickles did scoot, squirming over and turning into him, clinging to Charles’ arm.

“‘S cold over here,” Pickles offered in explanation. He was pressed close all along the other man’s side, mouth closer to his ear in the darkness; his breath smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, and reefer. “‘Mglad you stayed, Charlie. Hotels fuckin’ suck . . . this is better, isn’t it?”

“Hm,” Charles hummed. All he really wanted to do was settle in and go back to sleep—although the warmth of a body next to his was nice. The hint of smoke was nice too, despite it having been years since he’d given it up himself. Lulling. Like a steady surf washing over him, pulling back, washing over him again. His eyes drifted closed and he felt himself relax, sinking into the mattress as far as the uneven springs would allow.

Then, a warm press of lips against his, so soft and tentative that at first he thought it was a dream—he often dreamed that way, slipping from real to unreal so quickly the change was imperceptible. And if it was a dream, why not kiss back? Charles let his lips part, turning into it, that warmth, placidly enjoying the gentle scratch of facial hair against his own clean shaven face.

It was the arm suddenly draped over him that gave him pause. That felt real, a solid palm splayed as near to the small of his back as it could get while he still lay mostly flat. A body leaning flush into his, silently crying out for closeness. Pickles.

Pickles tasted like a shot of Fireball in a dim, crowded bar.

Charles blinked his eyes open, breaking the kiss with a hand on the man’s shoulder. A client. A boss, if the band ever made it as big as he was determined to ensure they would. This was a huge breach in his personal code of professionalism.

“Charlie?” Pickles whispered, and it sounded so much like a plea (I want you, I need you, please don’t stop) that Charles gave his shoulder what hopefully came across as a reassuring squeeze.

“Pickles,” he murmured gently, “you’re drunk. I’m, ah, not sure this is a good—”

“I’m always drunk,” Pickles interrupted, mumbling petulantly.

True enough. Charles just hoped the fame and fortune would kick in before lover failure, for all the guys. Boys, really, playing around with their music and drugs and anyone they could get into bed with them. . . . Case in point.

He just wished he wasn’t so damn tired. Or at least that he was awake enough to handle this situation with the delicacy it deserved, because he hesitated, and sensed instinctively that Pickles noticed.

Still, he said, “Regardless, I don’t, ah, think this is a good idea.”

“So? Make a bad decision fer once, gahd.” Then Pickles kissed him again, throwing a leg over his manager for good measure and crowding into him once more with an urgent but surprisingly slow rhythm.

Charles had only known Pickles for several months—personally, anyway, but he wasn’t about to admit to being a Snakes N Barrels fan back in the day now—and had seen his usual approach to getting into someone’s pants. It usually involved lots of smiling, suggestive looks, wandering hands, and friendly offers to share whatever drugs he had on hand at the time.

Not once had he turned those attempts at charm towards Charles. He’d been insistent, stubbornly helpful, and . . . nervous. Even now, there was a fluttery quality to his grip, as though he expected to be pushed away more than anything else. Charles wasn’t very good at reading this sort of thing, and was only catching up on all this in retrospect, but Pickles seemed to be acting as though this actually mattered or something.

And Charles was tired, and it felt nice. Warm and comfortable. Pickles was drunk; maybe he wouldn’t remember by morning.

He let himself kiss back, and by the time he fell asleep again it was with an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

#metalocalypse #pickles/charles #chuckles #chickles #my fanfiction #earlyklok #charles foster offdensen #pickles the drummer

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re-rift · 3 years

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The Lion King | Lowell | Epilogue

If given the chance to make a difference by his own hands, Lowell would always take it, no matter how long and arduous the road ahead was. It’s always been an uphill battle from the start for him, so it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.

It was because of said experience that he knew how desperately he needed a break and simply rest - that went for him just as much as everyone else here. Being forced to take part in a second mutual killing game, witnessing the deaths of other people all over again… They were all physically and mentally scarred. It was a long battle against absurd odds, but in the end, they have prevailed again–

Though the battle wasn’t entirely over yet; because they chose to continue it until they were able to grasp true victory with their own hands. Until they were able to save those who were deemed unable to be saved. Until they would make the impossible possible.

This was their fight and Lowell would do everything within his power to be triumph over fate again.

But for now, it was time for farewells.

(Good thing it wasn’t a permanent one or else he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to hold any tears back.)

“Right, no need t’ get sentimental now. I’ll be seein’ y’all soon ‘nough - or at least, most of ya, anyway. Just make sure ya take care of yerselves first, ‘cause we’ll be needin’ all that energy to make this whole thing work! So, see ya.”

While he was content with such a simple goodbye for most here, there was one person in particular that he needed to properly see off–

And it seemed like said best friend had the same thoughts as him.

Lowell chuckled and said his piece after she was done:”Heh, don’tcha worry, I’ll take care of myself jus’ fine. If anythin’, I shoulda return those words t’ ya - yer prone t’ overwork yerself, so ya better take a proper breather too, yeah?” He gently ruffled her hair as he spoke the next words:”Ya ever need help, ya know ya can call fer me, t’. And… ‘s my line, really. Thanks, I mean. Wouldn’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for ya, so… despite everythin’, ‘m really glad that we were able t’ meet.”

A genuine smile spread across his features and the next words that left his mouth were spoken in sincerity without even a hint of embarrassment:

”I love ya, Ada. Yer my best friend!”

—

As soon as Lowell was sent back to his own rift, his legs were already moving on their own before his mind could even catch up. However, he knew intuitively where he needed to go and it became only more clear once he recognized his surroundings.

He was close to his home.

The sun was setting as Lowell sprinted across streets, not caring what anyone crossing his way would think of him rushing ahead like a bull. It didn’t matter, not when he could finally see his parents again. His grandmother. His friends.

Lowell had to let them know that he was alive and well.

The landscape painter was short of breath when he finally reached the front door to the tiny apartment that he shared with his parents. As he didn’t have a house key on him, all he could do was knock on the door and hope they were home. If not, he could always just wait right here until they came home from their various jobs.

However, he wouldn’t have to wait, as the door was shortly opened afterwards and he was able to see his mother for the first time in many, many months. The sheer surprise on her face was palable, before she cried out her son’s name in utter relief and pulled him into a tight hug. In a matter of seconds, they were joined by his father, whose reaction was pretty much the same as his wife–

And Lowell was unabashedly letting his tears out, holding his parents tight as he uttered quietly:”I’m home.”

—

Within the next few days, Lowell visited many people, among them his grandmother and his close friends. Some of them got more of the truth behind his disappearance than others, but all the same, he let everyone know that he had something important to do. It was something that he couldn’t and wouldn’t run away from. It was something that allowed him to make a real difference and he had every intention of taking it, even if it meant that he’d be occasionally away for quite some time from home.

While his parents especially were worried, it was ultimately his grandmother who convinced them that it would be alright. Even though she knew the least about the circumstances of his disappearance, she could tell that Lowell meant every word he said and thus, she wholheartedly supported him in his endeavour.

So in the end, while Lowell left home again, he was able to properly bid his goodbyes this time.

—

And a lot happened.

So much that it would be improper to recount everything right now. After all, there was time for a later now.

However, it would also not be right to mention the most important thing–

In the end, the fight was finally won.

They succeeded in bringing the others back. Each and every one of them whom they thought were gone for good, have come back. At last, they have grasped this chance and made it work.

And with that, Lowell was able to make yet another important decision–

—

For the upteenth time, Lowell was nervously running his fingers through his hair, second-guessing his decision anew. The myriad of thoughts running through his mind were almost overwhelming, but he managed to calm his nerves by recalling everything that led to this decision in the first place.

Lowell had been a coward for the longest time. A cowardly lion who was all bark, but no bite - at least when it came to the matters that truly mattered.

He was excited and scared at the same time, but he wouldn’t chicken out. Even if he couldn’t tell whether this was a good or bad decision, he would stick by it and see it through to the end.

And once he saw Ada approach him with a certain white-haired young man in tow, his head became crystal clear.

Lowell grinned as he greeted them both.

“Hey there, Ada!”

His expression softened when his eyes fell on the familiar stranger in front of him.

“And you must be Hiraku, right?”

He held his hand out and smiled brightly.

“’S nice t’ meet ya. ‘M Lowell - Lowell de Gloria!”

#Epilogue #Lowell #submission

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llnewobsessionll · 4 years

Text

By Your Side (Kili x reader)

A/n: I loved this request nearly as much as I love the Kili, it was absolutely fabulous. Not gonna lie, I thought I would’ve written more for today but I ended up with a nasty head and stomach ache. But anyways hope you enjoyed it! -Sloan xx

Description: Everyone survived au! Y/n got hurt during the Battle of the Five Armies and Kili rushes to her thinking the worst. When they finally meet again the stress from the battle causes them to come clean about their love of each other.

Warning: Passing talk of battle and mention of dead bodies.

Word count: 1, 345

The battle was one won, but not without many losses, everyone where you looked you could see the corpses of elves, dwarfs, orcs, and humans. I was thankful I was not among them, but that didn’t mean that I had come out unscathed, every time I took a breath there was a sharp pain in my side and I could hear the wheezing, and I had someone gotten a cut on my forehead halfway through the battle and ever since blood had steadily pouring down my face and directly into my eye. For the past couple minutes or so I had been lightheaded and woozy.

I just had to make my way closer to the lonely mountain to get help, but it wasn’t helping that I couldn’t see straight and every couple of steps I would trip over my own two feet. At this rate, I would never make it to the lonely mountain before I collapsed, but still, I pushed forward, hoping to just get a little closer so that someone would be able to see me and help.

It couldn’t have been two minutes later that my vision started going black around the edges and just as I saw a group of dwarves come into view my vision was completely overtaken with black and I could feel my body tipping forward to meet harshly with the ground.

➼➳⁂➳➼

The group of dwarves that Y/n had seen up ahead had been the company, minus Kili, Fili, and Thorin, fortunately, they had seen Y/n walking towards them and when she went down they had all raced towards in fear. Even at a distance, they had been able to see the blood steadily pouring down her face and had seen her stumbling and weaving like she couldn’t walk properly. They all thought the worse as they were rushing to Y/n’s side but when they got there they realized it wasn’t as bad as they thought.

That was until they heard how shallow her breathing was and the wheezing every time she took a breath. Most of them didn’t have much medical knowledge beyond the basics, but it didn’t take a healer like Oin to realize that something was very, very wrong.

As a group effort, they all started to gently maneuver her unconscious body closer to the opening of Erebor so that Oin could get his supplies and start treatment.

While the rest of the dwarves were doing that Dwalin and Bofur made their way towards Raven Hill, both to make sure that the sons of Durin were unharmed and tell Kili of the news.

Every dwarf in the company knew that Kili and Y/n both had feelings for each other, it was impossible to see to everyone except for Kili and Y/n. They had been extremely close for the entire journey and everyone dreaded to think about how Kili would react to the news of Y/n’s injuries.

When Dwalin and Bofur were almost to Raven Hill they saw the sons of Durin slowly making their way towards them with Kili and Fili on both sides of Thorin to help him walk. Dwalin’s immediate concern was the injuries his friend had sustained from his fight with Azog, which left it to Bofur to tell Kili about Y/n.

Kili could immediately tell that something was wrong by the way that Bofur looked at him and then looked away and refused to make eye contact.

“What is it? Who got hurt?” Kili left Thorin’s side, leaving his uncle to his brother and Dwalin in order to rush forward and meet Bofur.

“It’s Y/n, she’s hurt pretty badly,” no soon had the words escaped Bofur before Kili was rushing towards the front wall of Erebor with the last of his energy.

When he finally got to the front wall of Erebor he looked around but couldn’t find Y/n or anyone else from the company so he hastily climbed over the rocks and into the mountain hoping that he wasn’t too late and that Y/n had enough strength left in her to hang on.

In a room, just off to the side from the main entrance he could hear the voices of the rest of the company talking in hushed voices and decided that was his best bet and made his way towards them.

Inside the room, he found Y/n laying on a table with the rest of the company surrounding her, there was a bandage wrapped around her forehead and one around her ribs. Kili quickly rushed forward and grabbed her hand, looking at Oin for an explanation of what was wrong with her.

“She’s got a cut to the forehead and her three on her ribs are cracked on her left side. The forehead wound is only surface area, but it’s been bleeding pretty bad. The main problem is bloodloss, we also have to make sure that she doesn’t move and puncture a rib,” the reply came from Balin in replace of Oin, who was still bustling around mixing herbs for all the other injured.

Kili turned back toward Y/n with a grim face, the injuries weren’t too bad but there was still a risk of losing her and she wasn’t out of the woods yet, probably wouldn’t be for a while.

As Kili went to brush Y/n’s hair away from her face contorted in pain and her eyes flicked open as she let out a low moan of pain, letting everyone in the room know that she was finally awake.

“Aye, here lassie, for the pain,” Oin said as he came towards her holding a cup of dark brown liquid that looked like dirty water, “it ain’t gonna taste pretty but it’ll keep ya comfortable fer now”

With the help of Oin and Kili Y/n drank the herbal water, not without gagging and making it obvious that she did not enjoy the taste. Kili let out a weak laugh at her reactions, glad that she was finally awake.

It was Nori who soon after started shooing everyone out of the room, making excuses about going to help the other and find Thorin so that Kili and Y/n would be left alone to talk.

It was Kili who spoke up first, “I thought I lost you, never do that again,” his voice was sad and barely above a whispered mumble but Y/n could still make it out from how close he was.

“It would take a lot more than that to get rid of me, Kili,” a hoarse chuckle escaped her, but was quickly stopped when she felt that pain in her side told her that she had at least one broken rib.

Looking at her sternly Kili replied, “it’s not a joke Y/n! I care for you… I-I think I may love you. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I ever lost you.”

Gasping, Y/n looked over at Kili in wonder and used what little strength she had leftover to reach up and put her hand on his cheek, “I love you too, Kili. Oh, I’ve loved you for a while, but I was too stupid to say anything before now.”

Kili leaned into Y/n’s hand and put his hand over her’s to press into it harder, “I think I would like to court you if that’s okay with you, amrâlimê.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else I would rather do.”

➼➳⁂➳➼

Later that day the company went back to the room, only to open the door to find both Kili and Y/n asleep on the table with Kili gently cuddling Y/n. Sharing ecstatic smiles the company of dwarves quietly shut the door behind them, careful not to wake the two young lovers.

Even from a short look, they got at the two they all noticed the way that Y/n’s hard was braided back from her face, no doubt with a newly crafted bead holding it together behind her back.

#kili x reader #kili durin #kili #lotr #lotr imagine #lotr imagines

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johannstutt413 · 3 years

Text

(requested by anonymous)

“Hey, Texas. Long time no see.” Bison greeted the Lupo as she joined the rest of Penguin Logistics at lunch for the first time in a while. “Just get back from a mission?”

“Yeah. I’m beat.” She certainly looked it - hair messed up, one of her sleeves torn at the cuff, eyes ever-so-slightly glazed over.

Exusiai, who was sitting in the seat to her right, sniffed her shirt. “Yep, coffee and nicotine are all that’s keeping her awake right now.”

“Really?” An ominous voice from behind them. “So she’s already close to breaking down?”

“Not the time, Lapp’n,” Croissant advised her, waving a drumstick in her direction.

Their marksman nodded. “Yeah, come find her when she’s awake enough to give you the time of day.”

“It’s fine,” Texas managed, waving them off. “I can deal with Lapdog myself.”

“...‘Lapdog?’” Sora asked, an eye slightly twitching as her idol persona reined in a massive amount of sudden adrenaline.

The white-haired Lupo froze. “She said it.”

“Wait, is that what you think of her?” Bison chuckled. “Oh, man, Mostima would’ve loved to see this-”

“And whose fault is it she isn’t here, again?” The Sankta shot back.

The Forte raised his hands. “Hey, she’s always been a roamer. Didn’t realize she couldn’t take a break-up from the other side.”

“‘Sides, work’d out just fine fer us,” the other Forte added, “so lay off.”

“‘Lapdog?!’ Why don’t I have a cool nickname like that?! You don’t even like her!” The idol was out of her chair and had in fact picked it up to brandish it as a weapon.

Lappland smirked as she grabbed one from the empty table behind her to match her opponent. “I’ve been dancing a lot longer than you, princess. Try to keep up.”

“...Fuck.” Texas slumped backward, her head catching against the other Lupo’s chest and rendering her virtually immobile - giving Sora the one shot she needed to knock her out.

Things went haywire quickly. Bison tried to step in, only to get swung at in turn, which encouraged Croissant to step in too, only to get fired at by Exusiai and her Emperor-inspired rubber band gun (which RI had no issue with her carrying around despite its pretty extensive laws on loaded firearms); that rubber band hit Beagle in the back of the head, so Kroos fired back with a precisely-aimed scoop of mashed potatoes, which the Sankta dodged...meaning it hit Cliffheart; Courier leapt to his feet to defend his lady’s armor and charged that table, followed closely by Matterhorn and SilverAsh wielding lunch trays and plastic cutlery (not that that would diminish the power of the True Silver Slash); that meant they had to pass the PL table, though, which led to more crossfire…Within a few minutes, it was a full-fledged lunchroom brawl, with the primary instigators unconscious on the floor, one Lupo’s head resting comfortably on the other’s chest with a smile.

It was enough that the Doctor had to come in from his office, pull the fire alarm (triggering the sprinklers), and, brandishing Cuora’s baseball bat, direct them all to the giant-ass conference room they had for company meetings. A few hours of accusations and therapeutic confrontations later, it was discovered that Lappland and Texas were still on the floor in the lunchroom - or at least, they were as far as anyone knew - and they were the instigators. Looking for them, however, didn’t turn up with any results, meaning their punishment would have to be postponed. Not that that meant they weren’t facing the consequences, just, well, in their own way.

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

“Ugh...Where’d everybody go?” Lappland, about an hour after the room had been cleared out, woke up with a sore jaw, in a puddle of spilt condiments, with Texas’ head sandwiched between her boo- “Hey, Tex, wake up.”

Nothing.

“Still sleeping, huh? Guess they did say you were tired earlier...C’mon, let’s get out of here.” She sat up, taking the other Lupo with her, before picking both of them off the ground and carrying off her counterpart to her room.

“Mmm...heh...no, don’t...” The Vanguard muttered nonsense in her escort’s ear. “What are you doing...with that pen?...Not here...”

Lappy sighed, shaking her head as she unlocked the door to her apartment with a percussion key - aka, kicking it open. Not like she ever locked it; hell, she welcomed the chance to fight a thief. Once she had Texas on her couch, however, she did just that. “Alright, let’s take an inventory. I’ll start with myself, since you waking up half-naked on my couch won’t do me any good until I can explain what happened...Whatever that was. Jaw’s not cracked, but sore, and I’m missing a tooth; my jacket is ruined for the third time this week; I broke the stitches under my left eye; and you called me Lapdog...for the first time since-”

“Where…?!” Tex’s eyes opened and immediately shot to her nemesis. “Why am I here?”

“Cafeteria was cleared out, and I figured we’d have a talk when you woke up. Wanna take a shower?” The Lupo used a hand to gesture to Texas’ clothes, which were a mess as well.

The transporter looked down at herself, felt like she was already starting to get sticky, remembered what had probably led to all this, and sighed. “Yeah, a shower would be nice.”

“Cool. I’m gonna heat up some soup, since that brawl ruined my lunch.” As she went to do that, however, Tex didn’t move. “Shower’s back there. I can help you find some clothes or something-”

“You don’t want to share?”

...The Guard blinked. “What?”

“What?” Texas shrugged. “You need to clean up, too, and it’s not like we haven’t seen it all before.”

“That was before...fuck it, you know I can’t say no to an offer like that.” Her pants were already off.

She nodded before walking towards the back, balling up her garments as she methodically removed them mid-step. “Good. We can talk with the water running.”

“Sure.” A couple of minutes later, the two of them leaning on opposite walls of the steamy glass-doored shower, they did just that. “Any idea what happened?”

“Sora gets a little possessive. Not that I’m hers to begin with,” the Vanguard replied, shaking her head.

Lappland reached for her soap and loofah. “Yeah, my front teeth caught onto that about her pretty quickly. Before that, though, you called me ‘Lapdog.’”

“So that wasn’t just a dream, then.” Texas sighed. “Mind if I wash your back?”

“You’re not planning on stabbing it, are you?”

The Vanguard crossed her fingers. “No promises.”

“Good.” She tossed her the loofah and turned around to give her access. “So, ‘Lapdog?’ You haven’t called me that to my face in years.”

“I’ve had a rough couple of days on the road. That’s what messed me up...but you never stopped being Lapdog. I tried to get rid of my past, but you followed me like a lost puppy. How can I call you something else when your codename is a twist on my nickname?” By this point, the loofah was being put to good use.

The other Lupo sighed - less from the response and more from the feeling of Tex’s hands on her back. “I didn’t think you’d notice...Still want me to change?”

“You want the old me back,” she replied, “and I want the old you back.”

“Heh. Wasn’t expecting that.” Seriously, how could she? The old her, the pre-Infected her who wanted something more than blood on her hands, was long gone by now-

-but that didn’t stop Texas from hugging her from behind. “I miss you.”

“...I miss us both.” Lappland reached behind her. “Wanna switch?”

“What’s wrong with where we are right now?” The transporter replied.

The Guard chuckled. “At least let me look at you. Haven’t been this close in ages.”

“Fine. Turn around.” Tex let go just long enough for her to do that, only to squeeze her even closer. “This is better.”

“What’d I tell you?...Ya know, I think I’ve got a compromise.”

She took a step back, putting them both under the showerhead. “What’s that?”

“We get back together,” Lapdog replied, “and we don’t try and change each other.”

“You think I’ll go back to my old ways fast enough?” Texas asked her, head on the other Lupo’s shoulder.

Lappland kissed her collarbone. “Either that, or I won’t care as much about that. No matter what happened to me, you never stopped being Texas after all, so maybe-”

“Deal.” Tex felt her leg give a bit, so she leaned back against the shower wall, managing to find purchase. “I’m so tired, Lapdog.”

“Yeah, no shit. We’re still the same size, I bet, so if you wanna borrow some clothes and crash here tonight-”

Thoroughly out of energy for words, the transporter replied with action, and suddenly the water wasn’t the only reason there was steam...

#arknights #arknights fic #texas (arknights)#lappland (arknights)#so i'm a fucking hypocrite i know #anon didn't ask for a shipfic #just said 'hey Texas calls Lappland Lappdog do with that what you want'#and my monkey brain went 'take out a p and now we've got something shpicy'#and in no time flat we had this #...and not gonna lie i'd write a sequel if anyone wanted it #soooo...we'll see #hell sometimes i need fic ideas to split up long single-requester streaks #might show up there :P

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

Angenie AU - Untangling

Yes, that is an absolutely horrific title for this ficlet, but I really wanted to give this ficlet a title and this was the best I could come up with. And it sort of fits. Gotta untangle all the chaos and crossed wires that happen in this ficlet. Also, fun fact I recently decided for this AU, which is revealed in this ficlet: this is a rare AU where Angie takes Stan’s last name when they get married.

(This ficlet is the third chronologically. First chronologically. Second chronologically.)

——————————————————————————————

Stan and Angie followed the McGuckets into the living room. Mrs. McGucket looked around the room with a slight grimace.

“Well, this is disgusting. How’d this place come to such a state?” she asked.

“You’d have to ask Ford that,” Stan mumbled. Mrs. McGucket glanced at him curiously. “My brother. He’s the one who owns the place. Actually, the reason we came here was to check on him.”

“Hmm.” Mrs. McGucket snapped her fingers again. Silver sparkles filled the living room. When they cleared, the room was clean and neatly organized. Mrs. McGucket took a seat in the recliner that had magically appeared, lounging like it was a throne. Mr. McGucket stood next to her, a hand on the back of the seat.

“I think it’s best if ya tell yer whole story, son,” Mr. McGucket said. Lute joined his parents.

“Yeah,” Lute said. Stan looked at Angie. She smiled at him encouragingly. He took a breath.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“The manner through which ya met our daughter would be good,” Mr. McGucket said.

“Right. I was in the Middle East-”

“Why?” Lute interrupted.

“I had business to do there.”

“What kind?”

“Look, buddy, just let me get to the important part, okay?” Stan snapped. Lute scowled, but made a “carry on” gesture. “I was in the Middle East. While I was wandering around the desert, I found this oil lamp just sorta sitting on the ground. I picked it up. It looked kinda dusty, so I rubbed it. And Angie came outta it.”

“How long were ya in the lamp, sweetie?” Mrs. McGucket asked Angie.

“I ain’t quite sure, Ma,” Angie replied. “But prob’ly at least a couple weeks.”

“Poor thing,” Mr. McGucket said.

“I used my first wish for money-” Stan continued.

“Of course ya did,” Lute muttered.

“-and I used my second wish to free Angie,” Stan said, ignoring Lute’s interruption. “I didn’t expect her to stick around to give me the third wish, since, now that she was free, she didn’t need to. But she did. And after a while, we started dating.”

“There was no datin’ while I was beholden to him,” Angie said. Lute rolled his eyes. “Lute, if I wanted, I could’ve left him at any point.”

“Still feels weird,” Lute mumbled. Mr. McGucket shrugged.

“It ain’t that dif’rent from how I met yer mother. ‘Course, I used my very first wish to free her.” Mr. McGucket smiled at Stan. “Don’t worry, son, I won’t judge ya fer usin’ yer second to free Angie. The order don’t matter. What matters is that ya freed my daughter instead of wishin’ fer somethin’ to benefit ya.”

“Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “So, after Angie and I started dating, we sorta kept doing what we were doing before.”

“Which would be?” Mrs. McGucket asked.

“Traveling. Had some fun. Went to weird places. Angie almost destroyed multiple landmarks with her magic.” Stan smirked at Angie. She rolled her eyes, the gesture very similar to her brother’s from a moment ago.

“Wait, what?” Mrs. McGucket asked.

“Yeah, Angie sucks at magic. Unless it’s an actual wish, she messes up a lot. She’s gotten better, though. Now, she only really screws up every other spell.”

“Rude,” Angie said playfully, punching Stan’s shoulder. Stan chuckled. Mrs. McGucket pursed her lips. “Ma?”

“I might want to give ya some exercises to help ya gain more control.”

“That’s better than what Stan’s been sayin’,” Angie said. “He keeps thinkin’ that there’s somethin’ wrong, that I should see a magic doctor or somethin’.”

“I ain’t no doctor, medical or magic,” Mrs. McGucket said. “But I can do a quick scan of ya, Angie, to see if there’s somethin’ a bit off ‘bout yer energy that could be causin’ difficulty in spelling consistency.”

“Sounds great,” Stan said. Angie frowned at him. “Like I keep saying, someone as smart as you should be better at your job.”

“But the scan can wait until after ya finish yer story,” Mrs. McGucket said.

“Right.” Stan cleared his throat. “We traveled for a while. Eventually, we visited my hometown so I could talk to my mom. And while we were visiting her, she told me that she hadn’t heard from my twin for a while. So we decided to check in on him.”

“And?” Mr. McGucket prompted. Stan opened his mouth.

Wait. Do I really need to tell them everything? They don’t need to know the dirty details about my twin brother going to a different universe or whatever.

“…When we showed up, the house was empty,” Stan said after a moment. Angie frowned at him. He soldiered on. “I decided to use my third wish to find out what happened to Ford, and when I did, Fiddlesticks got teleported in front of us and then passed out.”

“Fiddleford,” all four McGuckets corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“He’s yer brother-in-law, you should really learn his proper name,” Angie hissed. Lute leaned forward.

“Hang on, what did ya just-”

“Is that the whole story?” Mr. McGucket interjected. Stan nodded. “Hmm. Well, I could use some time to ruminate on that. Sally, want to scan Angie?”

“Sure thing.” Mrs. McGucket got up from the chair. “Angie, follow me to a private room, please.”

“Sure, Ma.” Angie stood on her tiptoes to kiss Stan on the cheek. “Play nice with my Pa and brother, okay?”

“Since you asked,” Stan sighed. Angie chuckled and followed her mother out of the room. An awkward silence fell. “So…”

“What are yer intentions with my sister?” Lute blurted out. Stan frowned at him.

“What?”

“Lute,” Mr. McGucket sighed. He raised an eyebrow. “Though, in all seriousness, do ya intend to marry Angie?”

“We’re already married.”

“What?!” Mr. McGucket yelped.

“We stopped by Vegas a bit ago. It felt right. So we got married.” Stan shrugged. “No big deal.”

“I- yes, it most certainly is a big deal!” Mr. McGucket said firmly. “Marriage is a big commitment. And yer s’pposed to share the moment ya take on that commitment together.”

“There were like, a coupla guys there.”

“Share it with yer fam’ly,” Mr. McGucket insisted. “Not a ‘couple of guys’.”

“Angie already told you that she felt weird about talking to you, since she wasn’t sure how you’d respond to the whole genie thing,” Stan said. “That’s why you weren’t invited. My folks weren’t invited, either.” Mr. McGucket continued to scowl. “But, I dunno, if it turns out to be as big a thing for her as it is to you, maybe we can-”

“Stanley?” The men looked over. Mrs. McGucket stood in the entryway, her face carefully neutral. “Come with me.”

“Uh, okay.” Stan followed Mrs. McGucket out of the room, down the hall, and into a bedroom. Judging by how neat the room was, Mrs. McGucket had used her magic to clean it, too. Stan sat next to Angie, who was sitting on the bed. “What’s going on?” His eyes widened. “Wait, did the scan find something?”

“Yes. It did.”

“Is there something messing with Angie’s magic?”

“Not yet,” Mrs. McGucket said slowly. “What I found with the scan, it’ll disrupt her magic, but not fer a lil bit. It’s too early on. No, her issue with her magic seems to be that she wasn’t given any proper trainin’. I’ll be sure to give her some guidance and leave her with steps fer practicin’ when we part ways.”

“Then what did the scan find?”

“I overheard that ya got married to Angie in Vegas. Which is a good thing,” Mrs. McGucket said evasively. Stan frowned, bemused. Angie put her hand on his knee.

“Stanley,” she said softly. She squeezed Stan’s knee. “I’m pregnant.” Ringing filled Stan’s ears.

“You’re what?” he asked.

“Pregnant.”

“With twins,” Mrs. McGucket added. Stan’s jaw dropped. “It’s too early to tell much more ‘n that with a basic scan like what I just did. But Angie told me some of what she’s been experiencin’ health-wise lately, and what she said confirmed the results of the scan.”

“You’re- you’re pregnant?” Stan whispered. Angie nodded, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’m- I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yes, dear, you are,” Angie said.

“What?!” a voice shrieked. The door to the bedroom slammed open, revealing Lute. Lute glared at Stan. “The first time I see my baby sister in ages, it’s with some feller what freed her from a lamp, then dated her, then married her, then got her pregnant? This ain’t right!”

“Lute!” Angie scolded, jumping to her feet. “Nothin’ is wrong with any of what ya just said! Yer just strugglin’ with it ‘cause this is the first time you’ve met Stan.”

“And this first time, I’ve learned everything I needed to ‘bout him,” Lute said firmly. Stan got to his feet.

“C’mon, man, stop overreacting like this.”

“I ain’t overreacting,” Lute snarled, stomping over to Stan. He jabbed Stan’s chest with a pointed finger. “Yer a stranger to me, but ya knocked up my lil sister. I don’t want ya ‘round here.”

“Like you can make me go anywhere,” Stan scoffed. Suddenly, copper sparkles appeared around Stan, blinding him. When his vision cleared, he was in the front yard. “What the-”

“Lute, what did ya do?!” Angie’s voice shouted from inside the house.

“I didn’t do nothin’!”

“Yes, ya did!” Angie argued. Stan rushed back inside, slamming the door behind him. “What was-”

“I’m fine, Ang,” Stan called. “I wound up in the front yard. Don’t know how.”

“Lute did it,” Angie said. Stan headed for the bedroom. Mr. McGucket had joined his wife and children there. Angie glared at her brother. “Guess he’s a genie, too.”

“I ain’t no-”

“Every genie’s magic has its own color,” Mrs. McGucket interjected. “Angie’s is gold. Mine is silver. The magic what accompanied Stan disappearin’ to the front yard was copper.”

“Not to mention, Lute, you wanted Stan out of here,” Angie pointed out.

“Bang-up job on that, by the way,” Stan said. “You sent me, what, thirty feet?”

“Sorry, next time I’ll send ya to the bottom of the ocean,” Lute said tartly. Mrs. McGucket glared at him.

“Lute Everett, that’s it!” she snapped. She grabbed Lute’s ear and dragged him out of the bedroom.

“Ow, ow!” Lute yelped. “Ma!”

“Yer father ‘n I ‘re goin’ to have a talk with ya while we let Stan ‘n Angie deal with their big news,” she said firmly. Mr. McGucket sighed. He looked at Stan and Angie.

“Congratulations, you two.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Angie said quietly. Mr. McGucket kissed her forehead.

“I’m just glad to have ya back. Ya comin’ back with a husband and baby on the way, why, that’s just sugar on top. But I better go help scold some sense into yer brother.” Mr. McGucket patted Stan on the shoulder and left. Stan closed the door behind him.

“Your family’s intense,” Stan said. Angie smiled and sat back down on the bed.

“We’re married. That means they’re yer fam’ly, too.” She frowned. “By the way, my fam’ly don’t really tolerate lyin’.”

“So?” Stan asked. He sat next to her.

“You lied.”

“About…?”

“About what ya found when we arrived at this house. Why’d ya tell my folks that Stanford wasn’t here? He was.”

“I know Ford was here. I was the one who got him through a portal and into a different universe, remember?”

“Why’d ya lie?” Angie repeated. “My folks have a lot of experience and wisdom. And my ma’s definitely a better genie than I am. They’d be able to help us-” Angie stopped mid-sentence. She stared at Stan. “You don’t want their help.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Look. I’m sure that your parents are nice people. But Ford was clearly in some deep shit before he went wherever he went. I don’t want your family sticking their big noses into whatever Ford was up to here.”

“Big noses, huh?” Angie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on. You know that I wasn’t ragging on your nose,” Stan scoffed.

“I certainly hope not, ‘cause there’s a high likelihood one of yer children will have that nose.”

“And it’ll look as gorgeous on the kid as it does on you,” Stan said firmly. Angie smiled. “Seriously, though, I really don’t want your folks to get involved in Pines family business.”

“I’m involved.”

“You’re a Pines. Or did you say you’d take my last name just to make me feel better or something?”

“No, I took yer name ‘cause it looked so good on ya,” Angie teased. She interlaced her fingers with Stan’s. “Now that I’ve contacted my fam’ly, I can settle back into my proper identity a bit and get the paperwork done, make me legally a Pines.” Stan grinned at her. She looked down. “You really don’t want my fam’ly to know anything ‘bout Ford’s sit’ation?”

“No.”

“All right.” Angie took a breath. “We’ll keep ‘em out of it.” Stan kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Wow, a ‘thanks’ that I didn’t need to use magic to get?”

“I’m gonna be a dad, remember? I’ve gotta learn how to be responsible and use manners and shit like that,” Stan said. Angie chuckled. “Damn, we’re gonna be parents. We’re gonna need a house for the kids.”

“I’m assumin’ that ya want to stay in Gravity Falls so’s that it’ll be easier to get yer brother back.” Angie looked around the room. “This ain’t that bad of a place. We could stay here.”

“In my brother’s creepy rundown shack? Uh, no. We’ve got enough money to get something nice.”

“All those five-star hotels really spoiled ya, huh?”

“Yep,” Stan said cheerfully. Angie laughed. “Maybe we can go for a drive around town later to look for a house appropriate for someone in our tax bracket.”

“Like you pay taxes.”

“When I’m a dad, I probably should. Don’t wanna go to jail when I’ve got two kids at home.”

“Aw.” Angie kissed Stan’s cheek. “Yer already changin’ yer criminal ways fer yer babies, and they ain’t even born yet.”

#Angenie AU #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Ma McGucket #Pa McGucket #Lute McGucket #McGucket Family #ficlet #my writing #normally I would ramble in the tags a bit but I have to go to work lol #speecher speaks

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