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#I might draw more batches of the kiddos
averagekindergartenfan · 10 months
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Nice prosthetics you got there Monty- GET THAT DRAWING OUT OF HERE GOD DAMMIT /ref
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Oh em geeee #throwback to when I was absolutely crazy over the Carlonty ship, I'm still not normal about it trust me. Also I'm using mobile data and I'm in homestay
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okaywitheverything · 3 years
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hi! can i request minato fall for naruto kindergarten teacher please? thank you 😁
Ma'am: A Possible New Mom? Minato x KindergartenTeacher!Reader
My actual first request! Hope I did it justice! Thank you honey for the request. I wrote some sort of mixed AU so I hope you don't mind.
 A/N: This took a lot of time because I have a lot of tests every month. Also i threw up a week ago and was somewhat sick. Then I lost the two drafts and was so irritated with ms word but somehow I managed to write again. So a lot of blood, sweat and tears went into this. Please shower it with love if you even read this awful Author’s note.
Positive A/N: I did like how it turned out tho, the ending is too cute and you won't know what to expect as I didn't either. I genuinely hope you have fun reading this piece.
Word count: 3K
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 Your POV
 “It must be fun to play with the kids all day."
People who think that are the biggest fools on the planet in the universe.
You were picking up the various toys scattered throughout the main classroom, sorting them category wise while the kids took a nap. Most of them anyways.
A few babies had insane amount of energies that they refused to sleep whatsoever. But it wasn't as big a problem as people think it is. All kids have different strengths, a variety of ways to function and unique physiology. You knew if a kid was not tired, forcing him or her to doze off isn't healthy.
Just let the kids be.
So that explains why Naruto was alongside you helping you to collect the sponge shurikens scattered around while you put away the stuffed ninkens on the high shelf. Usually Kiba and Rock Lee would be awake as well, and this trio would play in the hall until their limbs gave out but today even they slept after tiring poor Akamaru out for weird challenges.
“Ma’am, I almost forgot! I want to show you something! Come with me!” Naruto suddenly grabbed your hand leaving his task in the midst and urging you to leave yours too. You looked at him puzzled but giggled at his enthusiasm nonetheless, sometimes kids were too darn cute. You loved the ways kids’ eyes lit up, so optimistic and happy and hopeful until the world snatched it all away. You wanted to preserve this for as long as could.
He took you to the room where the kids kept their small backpacks filled with their favourite articles that they thought were absolutely necessary to take everywhere.
No Neji, you don’t need to have three combs for the care of your luscious hair every possible instant.
Naruto generally brought a lot of snacks which you had to retain sometimes so that he would eat healthy but it became even harder to do so when all he wanted was for Sasuke to taste the tomatoey flavour ‘these’ chips had and gift Rock Lee the curry flavour. That boy had a heart of gold.
 He pulled the zipper of his orange backpack open, and took out a stuffed fox.
“Ma’am meet Kurama! I told him all about you and he wanted to meet you!” He held Kurama up while you were gently petting the plushie’s head, he was so excited to see your happiness to meet his esteemed companion.
These kids and their imaginations! You loved every ounce of it!
“Hello Mr. Kurama!” You didn’t feign excitement, you actually were. You loved kids and their creativity and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“He’s my best friend! Don’t tell anyone else though! Others might get sad.”
You did an action of zipping your lips, “Your secret is safe with me, sweetie.”
“Look! I also drew something!” He hastily handed you Kurama and proceeded to take out his yellow sketchbook. He kept turning pages filled with rainbows of colours morphing into one another that made some sense in his cute, little head and finally reached his desired page. He pulled your dress with his little chubby hands, an action he often did when he wanted you to sit beside him. You kneeled down, his plushie settled in your lap now as you waited for him to go ahead.
He handed you his open sketchbook where there were three figures, two adults and one kid judging by the height, all wearing triangular outfits. One kid and an adult had striking yellow hair and blue eyes while the other adult wore an orange dress with a large circle in their hands. On closer inspection, you saw your own hair colour and eye colour being illustrated to the best of the toddler’s ability, as far as the crayons allowed him to portray it. You had a circle in your hands, almost the size of your drawn head with black spots in between while the child in the photo held an orange squishy ball. To save you from your confusion, Naruto came to the rescue and started explaining.
“That’s me and Dada over here. And I’m playing with Kurama! And that’s you Ma’am! Bringing me and dada cookies for being good boys like you do in class!”
Your heart melted right there and then. For some reason, your face heated up too.
“Oh my God, honey, that’s amazing!” You pecked his cheek as Naruto blushed slightly and rubbed his head, “You liked it?”
“I Loved it! What did Dada say about it?”
“He got so red like Sasuke’s tomatoes haha. But he put it on our fridge like my other drawings and he said it was the best one yet.”
Before you could reply, crying was heard from the nap room and you sighed. Looks like someone woke up.
“Yay, someone is up! We can now play!” Naruto began running but you stopped him.
“Let’s be sure to pack this all up before, Ma’am Anko will see to your friend okay?”
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Minato was waiting alongside other parents, it was 10 minutes till the kindergarten was over. His mind wandered afar, thinking about his journey to this town.
Minato was very afraid when he moved to Konoha, about Naruto settling in and making friends. Of course, back in his previous town he had already got Naruto a place in the best Kindergarten there, pulling all the needed strings but his promotion caught him off guard. Being a single parent was hard enough as it is, and with the worry of adjusting to new surroundings for his growing son, he was almost going to decline the offer. Only after much conviction from his friends that he deserved this, he took the offer, albeit hesitantly.
He was happy with his new workspace and colleagues as well, and was over the moon when he one of his erudite associates had a son the same age as his own, and recommended the city’s best kindergarten where his son was set to go. He went blindly on his associate’s word, because he knew him to be a wise dad.
For the first two months, he had to work relentlessly to prove his position as the new leader in the branch, and so he had his assistant pick Naruto up while he prepared lunch at home for his precious boy, barely making it home fifteen minutes before they did. But when the company celebrated their first real accomplishment, only then did Minato feel he could take a step back and indulge with his son more as he used to do.
When he began picking him up himself, he realised what he had been missing on: small quirky tales, new words his toddler learned, new friends’ names, his favourite teacher’s cookies apparently. Minato quickly noticed, being the perceptive man he was, that Naruto could go hours and hours talking about his Ma’am. He would have thought of it as a crush, had Naruto been older.
But when he first saw you, he could relate to his son if Naruto did have a crush. He knew he was being superficial, being attracted to your appearance at first sight but he couldn’t help himself that you were almost ethereal, too gorgeous to be true. It seemed as if you were glowing when you laughed alongside the kids or held one of them on your shoulders while searching for the parents.
However, your personality was even more so captivating when he finally talked to you at the parents-teachers conference. You were such a quality teacher, he deduced when he noticed how apt you were at describing each kid individually and how dedicated to their growth you were. He loved the bond you had with Naruto, the boy couldn’t stop grinning upon meeting you on his day off.
The bell rung, breaking him out of his reverie, and he waited as the kids ran to the parents, waving goodbyes here and there, ready for their weekend. He could hear your faint shouting over the buzz, “Make sure you have taken all your belongings, kiddos! Have a good weekend!”    
He knew if you had a special place in his son’s heart, he could let you stay in his heart as well.
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It was 8 PM, one hour past the Uzumaki kid’s bedtime, but the blatantly crying kid was nowhere near sleeping. A distressed Minato held him on his hip, as he searched the entire house for his favourite plushie, Kurama, without whom Naruto had never slept.
“We’ll find him, Naru. Do you remember where you last saw it?” Minato asked, pausing and sitting in the comfy sofa, looking at Naruto, hoping he’d have an answer.
Naruto’s wails quietened down, fortunately there were no tears, as he pondered and spoke, “I last showed it to Ma’am!”
Minato sighed, he grasped that Naruto would have left it at the playschool because no inch of his house was unsearched. He settled Naruto down on the couch as he deliberated calling you over a toy. He had your number for emergencies, but was this one? The real objection, the actual reluctance he had for calling was totally different though. He hated to admit it, but talking to Naruto’s daydream of a teacher always left him stuttering like a teenager. He could barely listen and respond when he met her at the kindergarten, but talking to that Goddess one on one was more terrifying and nerve-wracking than moving to a new town.
But he knew there was no way Naruto would sleep without Kurama and it was only Friday, nights to wait if he doesn’t ask you about the plushie today. He couldn’t imagine how disheveled will Naruto be without Kurama by then. He would surely award himself with wine if he managed to finish the call without fainting.
With clammy hands and a vigorously pounding heart, he dialed the number.
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You were finishing up the last batch of forms and cleaning up, when you saw something abruptly put in the otherwise shipshape playroom. Before you could further inspect, your phone rang, Mr. Uzumaki flashing on top of the screen. Your heart hammered as you wondered what he could be calling about.
You were not going to lie, Mr. Uzumaki was easy on the eyes, always in class A condition with his well-tailored suits as he came to pick Naruto up. Even the married housewives ogled him not-so-subtly. He was such an excellent father, really devoted in his son’s life while simultaneously conquering the business world. An eye candy, with all the best qualities that existed, an immensely put together God’s creation. He was dream partner to have, yet somehow he was single.
Your phone’s ring broke you out of your musing, as your sweaty palms grabbed the phone and received the cal.
“Good Evening, Mr. Uzumaki.” You managed out, your neck suddenly heating up.
“Good Evening, Miss. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“Not at all, I was about to head home. How may I help you?”
“If you are still there at the playschool, could you please…… If you don’t mind….. I’m sorry again I called-”
“I assure you, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about it. Although you do need to tell me the problem if you want me to help.” You giggled lightly, amused at that man stuttering.
“Thank you. Umm Naruto left his night time plushie there I suppose and he doesn’t sleep without it. Could you please, please check if it’s there?”
“Of course.” You held the phone and as you hummed and went to the Kid’s playroom you found Naruto’s sketchbook with the drawing laying on it, and the Kurama toy beside it. You swore you promised Naruto pack it earlier in the day.
“Looks like he did leave it here.”
“Can you keep the school open a bit late, I’ll come and collect it right aw-”
“Its pretty windy right now outside, and you’ll have to bring Naruto too at this hour. I’ll drop it at your home on my way back, I was planning in leaving in five anyways.” Your mouth spoke before you could process what you said, offering to go to his house? Nice going there, you desperate weirdo.
His choked out “Okay” almost surprised you as you ended the call.
This will be a nice, little detour.
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About twenty minutes later, the doorbell to the Uzumaki household rang and Minato sprinted to the door, opening it immediately.
There you stood, with tousled hair from the wind, in your long red pea coat and black heels. Your cheeks lightly tinted, no doubt because of the unruly weather outside. Somehow you still looked absolutely perfect in Minato’s eyes as he traced your form, unable to initiate the conversation.
You, on the other hand, had halted completely when the door opened revealing a ripped Minato, his muscles bulging underneath his black shirt while grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips. His biceps were so thick, you wondered how he managed to exercise on top of all the responsibilities he had.
You handed it over to Minato whose eyes widened at the piece of paper and stood there awkwardly, processing what to say.
Somehow stopping yourself from all the gawking, you cleared your throat as you dug in your black purse and took out Naruto’s best friend and his masterpiece.
“Guess he left this as well.” He gave a forced laugh, trying to make things less uncomfortable after he stood silent for two minutes.
You chuckled lightly in agreement when suddenly thunder boomed behind you, causing you to shriek and slip, only to be caught by Minato, his hands holding you around your middle tightly in a protective manner. You coughed as you stepped back again and he cleared his throat this time when suddenly it started pouring like hell’s rage on Earth.
“You should stay for a while, at least until the rain lightens.”
You were going to decline, but when you saw how bad it was raining, you knew you would have to accept. “Looks, like I’ll have to. Sorry to impose.”
“It’s no imposition at all. I’m inviting you, don’t fret.”
You stepped inside, shrugging your pea-coat off, revealing your black dress underneath. Minato reddened visibly, taking your pea-coat from you and hanging it. He cursed himself as he thought of conversation starters, wanting to say something, anything to not stand like a fool.
“Would you like wine? I have this blush flavoured bottle reading to drink.”
“I would love that, Thank you. What are you celebrating though, if I may ask?” You agreed, maybe the alcohol would calm your buzzing nerves. Besides you were a sucker for wine.
“Nothing much, a simple personal achievement of sorts.” He said with a grin as he led you inside, hopeful of where the night might lead. Maybe the liquid courage would help him finally ask you out.
Behind the wall, Naruto grinned with a pacifier in his mouth. Mission successful.
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So that was that. Until next time, cookies.
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50 Christmas Ornaments My True Love Gave To Me
Summary: It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table.
OR
The Iron Family gets carried away making Christmas ornaments, and Peter talks to his dad about asexuality
Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty @skeeter-110 @m3ga1nsp1r3d @nazezdha321 @peterparkerspidgeons @fallenstar07 @baloobird
Let me know if you want to be added/removed! I don’t mind at all either way! Also thank you to @baloobird for beta-reading this for me!
Read on Ao3!
“This was the best idea. Peter, remind me never to doubt you again,” Tony said, gazing at his newly made red and gold Christmas ornament. It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table. 
“I told you it would be fun!” Peter said with a laugh, carefully pouring a bit of red glitter into his own ornament. 
“Told you!” Morgan echoed, despite the fact this activity had been a complete surprise to her and she had told Tony no such thing. Morgan reached forward suddenly, grabbing the white glitter. 
“Oh, dear you need to be more careful with that,” Pepper said as Morgan spilled some on the table trying to pour it into her ornament. “Here baby, use the funnel.”
“Finished!” Rhodey said suddenly, nearly startling Peter into flinging glitter everywhere just as Morgan had done. Rhodey held up a bauble that had been painted in three stripes of red, blue, and grey, with “T+R+P=‎⎊” painted in black overtop. It took Peter a moment to realize that the colors were representing each of their Iron Suits, and he said “Awww” along with the rest of the family. 
Both Tony and Pepper kissed Rhodey on the cheek, Tony on the left and Pepper on the right, and Peter laughed at the sheepish but adoring smile Rhodey gave them in return. He placed his bauble next to the others and gazed fondly at the colorful pile. 
“I think these are my favorite ornaments,” he said with finality. 
“Ha! You sure about that? You like them even more than your special War Machine one Pep gave you?” Tony said, an eyebrow raised skeptically. 
“He’s a close second of course, but these are my favorite since we made them together as a family,” Rhodey said, grinning happily. 
“Aw, you’re extra sappy today, Pops,” Peter teased, putting the top on his ornament, and smiling at the layers of red and white glitter in his candy-cane themed bauble. 
“Are you implying that I’m sappy all the time?”
“Not even just implying. You’re sappy. You’re a sappy, mushy, lovey-dovey, man,” Peter said, scrunching his nose at his father, and sticking out his tongue childishly. Rhodey made a mock-offended gasp, and pressed his hand to his chest. 
“I’m deeply offended by this. You know I’m not sappy, right Little Mo’?”
“Super sappy,” was all Morgan replied with, clearly more interested in stuffing bits of ribbon in her ornament than she was in the conversation itself. The rest of the family laughed as she continued to fill her bauble, and Tony threw an arm around Rhodey’s shoulders. 
“Nah, I think I actually agree with you, Honeybear. These are probably my favorite as well, I can’t believe we never did this before. I almost wish we could make more, we were each only able to make five,” Tony said, looking down at his completed ornaments beside him, a slightly disappointed look on his face. “I had a lot more ideas for what to design.”
“I did too,” Pepper said, looking down at her own baubles, neat and elegant, all themed with the colors of white and gold, unlike the rest of the family, who had gone a bit more wild with their designs. 
“Well… who said we’re not allowed to go back to the craft store and get some more?” Peter said tentatively. When all three parents raised an eyebrow he quickly went on. “I mean we have plenty of paint and glitter and ribbon left! We could probably just get some more baubles and have enough supplies to make more--I mean what else are we gonna use this stuff for? Might as well use it up on more ornaments so we don’t waste it, ya know?”
The three adults were now wearing varying convinced facial expressions, though Morgan’s response definitely worked in Peter’s favor. 
“Yes! Let’s do it! Pleeeeease???” she said, looking up at them and giving them her best puppy eyes, garnished perfectly with a little sniff. 
Peter was grabbing his coat before they even said “yes.” 
~~~
“Ya know, I distinctly remember you saying all we had to get was more ornaments, and that we already had enough supplies to make another batch,” Tony said, frowning at Peter, who was gazing at the rows of glitter on the shelf. 
“Yeah yeah, I know, but we only got christmas themed colors last time! What if we got something else besides the red, green, white, and blue?”
“Well we got gold and silver too, and a little black--”
“You know what I mean,” Peter groaned with a roll of his eyes. “We could do so much more with some extra colors--Ooh look!” Peter snatched four containers of glitter off the shelf and presented them to Tony. “We could make pride flags! You and me could have personalized asexual pride ornaments!”
Tony sighed at the sight of the bottles. 
“Well… that would be cool… I dunno kiddo…” Tony said slowly, pushing his hands in his pockets as he thought. 
But Peter suddenly realized what he was doing and his face turned red with embarrassment. He really shouldn’t be asking for things right now, especially when he only wanted these colors because he was feeling a little insecure. That’s not a good enough reason to be spending money on glitter they were never gonna use again. 
“I--Um, nevermind, sorry,” Peter said, his hands shaking a little as he reached up to put them back. 
“What? No, Peter, I was--”
“There you two are!” Pepper said suddenly, making them both jump and turn in her direction. She made her way over, Rhodey and Morgan trailing behind. “What’re you doing over here?”
“Well the kid’s twisting my arm into getting us some pretty ace glitter,” Tony responded, and Pepper glanced at the bottles Peter was still holding. Peter grimaced inwardly, wishing Tony hadn’t said anything. He didn’t need Pepper to explain to him they can’t just buy whatever he wants just because he’s a little upset. 
But she wasn’t angry with him. She snorted, rolling her eyes at Tony’s pun. 
“Well if you two get your pride flag then I want mine too,” she said, reaching over and grabbing some pink, purple, and blue bottles, the colors of the bisexual flag, and throwing them in the basket with the pack of ornaments. The knot of nervousness that had formed in Peter’s chest instantly unraveled, and he suddenly felt a lot more at ease about putting his own bottles of glitter in the basket. 
“Hey don’t forget mine!” Rhodey said, reaching for the pink, yellow, and blue bottles, the pansexual pride flag, and putting them in too. 
“Oh, you guys need the polyamorous flag too!” Peter chirped, snagging the blue, red, and black bottles of glitter. “We can use the gold paint back at home to put the pi symbol on it too!”
All three parents smiled warmly at him, and Rhodey reached forward to ruffle his hair affectionately. Peter remembered when Pepper and Tony had first started dating Rhodey, they’d been so nervous to tell him because they were scared he wouldn’t like it. Peter was only about ten when they told him, and he could tell they had been very worried. Peter colored a picture of the three of them holding hands the next day, and hung it up on the fridge. He found out later that Tony had given it to Rhodey, and Rhodey keeps it in his wallet now, taking it everywhere he goes. And when Rhodey eventually moved in and got married to Tony and Pepper, Peter was extra enthusiastic in helping him get settled, to make sure he felt welcome. 
Peter’s always done his best to make sure his parents knew he loved them, and accepted them just the way they were. 
But Peter was suddenly snapped out of his memories by Tony’s voice. 
“But what about Little Mo’? We can’t have her feel left out!” he said, gazing down his daughter by his feet. But Morgan suddenly held up a large colorful bag, showing off the contents to her fathers, mother, and brother. 
“Pom poms!” she squeaked happily. The bag was filled with hundreds of colorful pom poms of varying sizes, some of which were definitely too big to force into the ornaments, but Peter knew that wouldn’t stop Little Mo’ from trying. 
“Oh yes, you forgot, Dad,” Peter said, scooping up his little sister and resting her on his hip. “The ‘P’ in the acronym doesn’t just stand for Pansexual and Polyamorous, it also stands for Pom Poms.”
“Oh yes, that’s the new one isn’t it?” Tony said with a snort, now sorting through the glitter in the basket to get rid of repeated colors. 
“Yup. Maybe I can get MJ to design a pride flag for it,” Peter said with a smirk. 
“I’m sure she would do so happily,” Pepper said, taking the pom poms from Morgan to put them in the basket, and kissing Morgan's head. “Now why don’t you and your Dad get back to the car and buckle Morgan in while your Papa and I get everything checked out?”
A few minutes later Peter walked out of the store with his sister and dad, and Tony was buckling Morgan in her carseat. 
“Snug bug?” Tony asked her as he adjusted the straps of her seat. 
“Snug bug,” Morgan confirmed with a giggle. Tony smiled and booped her nose, before drawing out his phone and opening up a game. 
“Wanna play on Daddy’s phone?” he said, handing it to her and helping her put in the headphones. Then Tony moved back up to sit in the middle row of the van, where Peter was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. 
“You never let me play with your phone when I was little,” he said bluntly. “I’m sensing a favorite child has been chosen.”
“Pfft, is that another one of your spidey powers? Your Spidey Sense get upgraded along with your suit?” Tony asked with a roll of his eyes. “No, I just needed her to be distracted.”
“What? Why?” Peter asked with a frown. 
“Well, it seems my other bug isn’t so snug,” Tony said, looking at Peter pointedly. 
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What’s up kiddo? You seemed a little worried back there,” he said. 
“I did? When?” Peter said, hoping to wiggle his way out of the conversation somehow, stall until his Mom and Papa got back. 
“When you were asking about if you could get the ace flag colors. You know I was joking right? I wasn’t actually considering saying no to you, I want you to be able to show your pride however you like,” he said gently. It seems Peter wouldn’t be able to get out of this one.
“No, yeah I know that, it… wasn’t you I was worried about,” Peter said with a sigh. “Part of it I guess was uh, well you know how I get guilty asking for things. I didn’t want to make you spend money on me.”
“Ya know for the child of a billionaire you sure worry about money a lot,” Tony said with a smirk. “I don’t mind spending money on you. You’re important to me, and I have the ability to do it, so I like to. But, you already know that, and I have a feeling the money wasn’t the only thing bothering you. Am I right?”
Peter’s face turned even redder and he glanced out the window to see if his Mom and Papa had come to save the day. 
No such luck.
“I uh… Flash said something the other day. Bothered me,” Peter muttered. 
“What did he say, kiddo?” Tony said, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s hand. 
“…he said nobody would ever want to date someone who was asexual like me. That no one would wanna be in a relationship with someone who wouldn’t, uh--” he glanced at Morgan to make sure her earbuds were still in, “--‘give them any’.”
Peter looked down and picked at a loose thread on his jeans, avoiding his father’s gaze. 
“Oh Peter, I’m sorry. That’s not true, there are plenty of people who will love you just the way you are,” Tony said, smoothing a thumb over Peter’s knuckles. 
“Yeah, I mean I-I know that in the back of my mind--I mean you’ve got two people who love you, and you’re ace like me, so--so I mean I’m sure I’ll find at least one person, it’s just--” Peter broke off with a sigh. “What if… What if I find someone who’s okay with me being ace, but they’re not nice in other ways? What if there’s only one person who’s okay with me being ace, and it turns out they like, I dunno, hate that I’m Spider-Man? Or they’re even abusive or something? What if the only person who will ever like me is someone who’s bad?”
“Peter, nobody really ever has just one person they’re compatible with. I learned that when I fell in love with Rhodey,” Tony said with a soft smile. “There’s going to be more than one person who’s okay with your asexuality, just like there will be more than one who isn’t. There will be people who are okay with it but are terrible in other ways, just as there will be people who aren’t okay with it but are amazing in other ways. 
“And of course, that means there will be people who are just bad for you overall. People who aren’t okay with your sexuality and are awful. But that means there will also be the opposite! There will be people who will be fine with your asexuality, and are also kind, and funny, and will have qualities you love. 
“Humans are complex, you’ll never meet one that’s exactly the same as the other, and yet we have the ability to love so many different people, in so many different ways. It’s part of why I fell in love with both Pepper and Rhodey. I love how unique they are. 
“Like you said: two people who are so different from each other, and yet they both fell in love with an asexual person like me. And neither of them are terrible, obviously,” Tony said, and Peter laughed, finally looking up at him. Tony smiled and gave his hand a final squeeze. “Basically, of the hundreds of humans your age in New York, I doubt there’s only one person who would be good for you, and even less likely that the only people willing to date you are abusive and awful. It mathematically doesn’t make sense. Throw in the fact that you’re the kindest kid I’ve ever met, and I doubt there’s an asexual-accepting human in the world who wouldn’t wanna date you.”
Peter laughed again, leaning back on the headrest as his chest filled with relief. 
“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I dunno what I’d do without you to help me with all this stuff.”
“Of course, kiddo. It’s what Dads are for.”
~~~
An hour later, Peter and his family were finishing up making the last of their baubles, Peter carefully painting the Spider-Man logo on his glittery asexual pride ornament. He was feeling a lot better after the talk with Tony, like a weight had been lifted off him. It even made painting a little easier, despite the fact he was awful at painting. 
Rhodey had finished about half an hour earlier, now in the kitchen making cookies while Pepper and Morgan watched Klaus in the living room. The smell of Rhodey’s cookies wafted into the dining room where Peter and Tony were still working. Peter snapped up and sniffed the air, drinking in the scent of chocolate, butter, and sugar, the signature smell of Rhodey’s chocolate chip cookies. 
Peter’s stomach gave a deep growl at the scent, whining miserably about how empty it was. 
“Wow, someone’s hungry,” Tony said, glancing at Peter’s middle with a smirk. 
“I knoooow,” Peter groaned, wrapping an arm around his belly. “I was so distracted by the ornaments I forgot to have a snack when we got home. Dumb super metabolism, I’m gonna starve to death before those cookies get out of the oven.”
“Well don’t do that,” Rhodey said, walking in with a plate piled high with cookies. “Guess you were so distracted you didn’t hear the timer go off either, huh?”
Peter wasn’t listening though. He’d already put his ornament down to let the paint dry and was making grabby-hands at the plate, practically drooling. 
“Alright alright, calm down, don’t eat too fast either, you’ll give yourself a tummy ache,” Rhodey said, handing him the cookies. Peter scoffed as he stuffed a cookie in his mouth. 
“I’m fifteen, I don’t get ‘tummy aches’,” Peter said through his mouthful of cookie. 
“Tell that to whoever got a tummy ache from eating a whole solid chocolate santa in five minutes last week on a dare from Ned,” Rhodey muttered as Peter stuffed more cookies in his mouth. 
“That was not a ‘tummy ache’, that was Extreme Christmas Celebrating.”
“It was a tummy ache. You said ‘I have a tummy ache.’”
“I did not--”
“Uhh, guys?” Tony suddenly interrupted. Peter and Rhodey looked at him, and Pepper glanced back from her position on the couch. 
“Yeah?” they all said. 
“I uh… I think we have fifty ornaments here,” he said, staring wide-eyed at the pile. Peter blinked. 
No, no way, they didn’t make that many. 
“You sure you didn’t miscount?” Rhodey said, looking at the pile more closely himself. 
“Oh I’m sure. There’s fifty ornaments here. We made fifty ornaments,” Tony said. 
“That can’t be right, each of us only made… only made…” Peter had been about to say five, but realized that was before they bought the second batch of ornaments. If they made five, and then each made another five… 
“Ten. There’s five of us and we each made ten ornaments,” Pepper said in disbelief. “How did we not realize we’d be making ten each? Fifty ornaments?”
They all stared at the pile in silence for a few moments. 
“Well, I guess the tree will be a bit crowded this year,” Peter said, taking another bite of cookie. They all laughed, then Rhodey, Tony, and Peter, settled on the couch next to Pepper and Morgan to finish the rest of the movie with them. 
Later that day when Peter had a bellyful of cookies, they decorated the tree with their new ornaments, as well as the ones dragged out from the boxes in the garage. And while it was a bit crowded like Peter had predicted, it was the best one they’d ever had, with their pride ornaments glittering in the firelight, and Morgan’s pom pom baubles adding the perfect sprinkling of color to the green branches. 
Peter had never seen a more perfect tree. 
74 notes · View notes
sylvanfreckles · 3 years
Text
Unsupervised
(SPN crackfic)
My Tumblr feed keeps filling up with “things Sam and Cas do when left together unsupervised”, so I thought I’d join in the fun.
Rule Fifteen: Never leave Sam and Cas together unsupervised. You never know what might happen.
* * *
The bunker was full, echoing with the sounds of laughing voices and playful arguments. Dean, both hands in a bowl of ground beef as he mixed up a batch of hamburger patties, couldn't quite fight down the warm swell of contentment in his stomach.
Jody stuck her head into the kitchen. “Hey, kiddo. Need a hand?”
“You're a guest here,” Dean protested as the older woman strode into the room and started rifling through the drawers. “Why aren't you with the others?”
“They're walking the girls through some kind of 'Monster 101',” she explained dismissively, producing a serrated knife triumphantly. “Thought I might be more useful here. Tomatoes?”
Dean nodded toward the fridge. “Monster lore, huh? You'd think they'd all be sick of that by now.”
“I know I am,” Alex huffed as she joined them. “We deal with this crap every day, can't we take one day off?”
“Hey. This 'crap' could save your life.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “And learning the difference between hardware staples and medical staples could save yours, but that's why you've got me. I'll leave the seven uses of werewolf intestines to the others.”
“Oh my god.” It was Patience this time, stumbling in with a hand over her mouth. “Alex, you can't abandon me like that. They were...they had...there were pictures.”
“You've gotta learn this stuff on your own,” Alex shot back, already leaning into the open fridge. “Hey, Dean, you've got stuff here for a fruit salad, how about that?”
“We do?” Dean leaned back, careful to keep his hands over the bowl. Alex was gathering up apples and grapes and passing them on to Patience...followed by a big jar of mayonnaise.
Fruit and mayonnaise. Gross.
There was a hesitant step in the hall, and he twisted just enough to see Kaia poke her head around the corner. “Room for one more?”
“Come on in!” Jody raised her free hand to pat the seat next to her. “Just what I needed—you're officially on lettuce duty.”
Kaia hesitantly sank into the seat next to Jody, and even more hesitantly began pulling the head of lettuce apart. “Sam was taking this book out,” she explained. “I couldn't read the language and the pictures made my eyes go kind of funny.”
“Is he still playing with the Book of the Dead?” Dean shook his head and turned back to the counter. It was time to start shaping the meat into patties, and luckily none of the invading women had taken away the waxed paper-lined baking sheet he'd prepared.
“No, this was something else,” Kaia said. “I think it was written in Enochian and he'd found it locked in a box with thirteen silver locks in one of the store rooms. Cas called it something, but that made my ears hurt so I left.”
“They think it was rescued from the Library of Alexandria.” Dean twisted around again at the sound of Eileen's voice. She gave a wry grin and shrugged one shoulder. “I don't think he even noticed me leave.”
That sounded like Sammy. “Up for slicing some onions?” he offered. Eileen nodded and opened a nearby cabinet to find the onions.
Dean had already transferred the patties to the baking sheet and was washing his hands when Claire stomped in. “How do you guys get anything done around here?” she complained. “I swear, those two act like they've never seen a book before.”
“Not your speed, eh?”
She made a face. “Jack was asking these really complicated questions. Something about temporal fluxes and dimensional fragmentation...all Star Trek meets Harry Potter kind of crap. I noped out of there as soon as they started talking about tesseracts.” She leaned over Kaia to pluck a slice of tomato off Jody's cutting board and pop it into her mouth. “Boring.”
“Fifth dimensional travel is a fascinating concept.” Jack announced, leaning against the wall just inside the doorway. “I don't understand the practical applications, but Cas made it sound possible.”
Dean dried his hands on a towel and flipped it over his shoulder. “You too?”
Jack shrugged. “They asked me to leave. I guess they wanted to discuss their theories in private.”
He grunted and turned to grab the tray of hamburger patties...then froze.
Jody and the girls had come to visit for the weekend...Eileen and Jack lived here, of course...there weren't any other hunters visiting....
“Hang on...” he slowly turned to face the room, drawing the attention of the seven other people gathered. “Did we just leave Cas and Sam alone with a mysterious ancient book?”
They stared at each other for half a heartbeat...then something exploded deep in the bunker.
Dean sprinted down the hall, Jack and the ladies on his heels, and skidded to a stop just inside the war room. It was full of some kind of whispy white smoke, and Cas and Sam were standing in the middle. They were grinning at each other, sure...but Sam was covered in blood and Cas was on fire.
He froze. Cas was an angel...angels survived fire...but Sam didn't look hurt and some kinds of fire hurt angels....
Jody shoved past him and grabbed up a towel that had been abandoned at one end of the table and started smothering the flames on Cas, so Dean scurried around the table to take Sam by the arms. “What the hell, man? We left you alone for like three minutes!”
Sam was trying to wave him off, but was too unsteady on his feet. “Dean...”
“No, no, just sit,” Dean shoved him down into a chair and started checking for the most obvious wounds. “Where is...what the hell did you do?”
“Dean, it's Cas's blood.”
“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?” Dean threw his hands up and glared over to Cas, who was at least a little bit less on fire this time.
His ears were ringing, he noticed. There was a sound coming from the smoke swirling around his head, something almost like a whale's song. “What the hell did you two do this time?”
“Dean,” Cas started to say, then doubled over to cough. Jody had managed to get the fire out by this time and had an arm around him to guide him to a chair.
“We did it,” Sam said, grabbing Dean by the arms. His smile was almost manic through the streaks of Cas's blood on his face. “Dean, we did it!”
Helpless, he looked between the two again. “Did what?”
“We brought the angels back.”
Dean's jaw fell open and he looked up. Yeah, the swirling white smoke looked kind of familiar...and that ear-piercing whale song could be angel voices...but weren't all these assholes supposed to be locked away in the Empty or something?
“We brought them all back,” Cas rasped. His voice was rougher than usual and his face was pinched in pain, but when Dean met his eyes he only saw relief and joy shining through.
He looked from the angels swirling overhead, to the wreck of the map room around them, to his brother covered in Cas's blood, to the still-smoking trench coat that did nothing to hide just how much of Cas had been on fire, and threw his hands up again.
“We left you two alone for three minutes!”
22 notes · View notes
722alycat · 3 years
Text
Face Down 
pt i, pt ii pt iv
Masterlist
Summary: Kenny is an abrasive bastard, sure, but he teaches you and Levi how to survive. You feel like a natural at Kenny’s lessons, in fact, especially next to Levi’s clumsy attempts. 
an: sorry this took so long! It was a monster to write and edit, and I had a busy few days! Hope you enjoy :)
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Kenny's motto in life is similar to that of an old proverb. "give a man a fish, and he will eat for a day. teach a man to fish and he will eat for his life.”
But, you reflected as you watched him scold Levi yet again for his stance, much more violent.
"Look, brat," he sniffed, "if I killed every motherfucker down here, you'd only be safe until the next batch of thugs came in. Now fucking hold the damn knife right."
Levi growled under his breath, and went back into the pose that Kenny had drilled into him religiously while you watched. He curled his fingers around the grip of the blade, and proceeded to flip and throw it, quick-changing his hold for different angles to stab and slash.
You grinned snobbishly at him as you flipped your own knife, over and over in your hand. "Hey, Levi, check this out!" you called, quickly flicking the blade so it danced through your fingers, before catching it back in your palm, now poised for a downward strike.
He scowled at you, while Kenny looked on, indifferent as always. 
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, little lady." Kenny finally intoned, "Levi will overtake you by leaps and bounds, if he's really an Ackerman."
You grinned cheekily, “Well, we all know how Miss Kuchel felt about taking in orphans!” You teased.
Levi scoffed at you, and you cackled. Your head tossed back, hair falling past violently shaking shoulders. Your laughter echoed through the dimly lit home you had purchased after selling some of the drugs you had pilfered from that shop. The place was small, really more of a postage stamp than anything else, and it was tucked away in a damp and dreary corner of the Underground, but even so...
It was beginning to feel somewhat like home. 
When your giggles finally died out, you rolled your head back upright. Tears of mirth sparkled on your lashes, and when you caught sight of Levi...
The boy was staring at you, eyes wide and mouth gaping. You watched in confusion as a flush began to creep slowly up his neck, over his high cheekbones. He looked... flustered, in a way. 
You cocked your head. What on earth...?
“You feeling alright, Levi?” 
Kenny grinned, all teeth and squinting eyes. It made him look roguish, when he wasn’t doing it in a cruel way. It almost made you curious as to how Levi would look with such a devil-may-care smile. All he’d done lately, or ever really, was scowl.
“Don’t you worry, kiddo,” Kenny snickered, throwing an arm over your shoulder and leering down at the red faced boy, “I think Levi here’s gonna be doing just fine.”
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And so time marched on. 
Days without Miss Kuchel turned into months, turned into a year, then two. You rounded into your 10th year of life, and then hurtled straight into puberty. You continued to outpace Levi by leaps and bounds, even as he began to outgrow you in height. Your moves became flashier and more complex, attacks became quicker and more lethal. Kenny scolded you frequently, telling you in a real knife fight, you were rather average, and tricks like those would only get you killed. 
Still, you found it exceedingly fun to twirl a blade between your fingers, to flick it through the air and catch it, only to send it twirling back out again. You excelled, as Kenny soon realized, at throwables. Knives, rocks, hell, even the old axe they had tried to barter off a local seller, and then later stolen when he wouldn’t budge on price. You were more likely to get praise from him due to your deadly aim than you were for being able to spin a knife like a top on your finger, even though the latter was much more impressive in your opinion.
“What can I say, Kenny,” you had crowed one evening, after he scolded you for wasting time practicing tricks, “I’m a show-man!”
Kenny swiftly came to the ragged end of his patience regarding your lackadaisical attitude towards the offensive moves he’d been teaching you. In true Ackerman fashion, he decided to rip you a new one. 
“The only thing a performer is good for down here is laying on their back, girl, so unless you want to be like Kuchel and your mother, I suggest you take me a little more seriously.” 
You snarled, baring your teeth at him, the picture of teenage obstinance, “Like there’s shame in being a whore!” You objected, as you had done so often before, knife spinning faster in your hands. 
He laughed shortly, shaking his head, “Being a whore gets you killed, and the dumb ones die even quicker, so you’d better stay out of the business. Besides, is that the life you want for yourself? For Levi?” 
You stalled out at this, thinking of how anxious Levi had been every time his mother had a client. He was so scared she would be harmed, or he’d find her beat to death in her bed... you didn’t want to see him like that again.
You pursed your lips, suddenly sullen from the memories, twirling knife stilling in your hand, “No.” 
Kenny grimaced, bringing his hand up to rub the tension from between his brows. “Look, y/n,” he began, gruffly, “as of now, you’re better than Levi at defending yourself. I don’t know how long that will last, but for now, if something were to happen while I’m out on business... he might need you. And you need to be on top of your game if you want to help him.” 
You were two parts guilty, two parts proud for outdoing Levi at every turn. You took to holding a knife like a duck took to water. You dodged Kenny’s blows like you were a dancer. Sure, you weren’t as strong as Levi, and it took twice as many hits from you to equal one of his, but... 
You felt like you could thrive, out there in the underground, if you wanted to. If you had Levi beside you.
If you had been like this when Miss Kuchel was sick, that store owner never would have been able to stop you. You could have gotten back in time. Guilt rose like bile up your throat as you remembered seeing Levi, curled up by his decaying mother, looking sunken away and dead himself. All because you’d been too loud and got caught, because you were too slow to dodge that storekeeper grabbing you, because you weren’t fast enough to get that medicine to Miss Kuchel and barely fast enough to save Levi, and if you fucked up like that again, maybe next time you wouldn’t be fast enough to save Levi and then he would- no.
Never again.
“Kenny...” you finally murmured, forcing yourself from your panicked thoughts, “you always speak of Levi like he’s going to... evolve, in a way. Like he’ll simply pick up everything he can’t, now. Its been confusing me for quite some time. You aren’t the kind to patronize people, so... what are you doing?”
Kenny took a moment to consider you. He thought how you picked on Levi, how Levi shoved you around, how you bickered relentlessly with each other. He thought of how you never cried, how you held yourself in an echo of Kuchel, how you would wrestle Levi, and how now that he was getting bigger, he was winning more often, but you smiled just as wide when you lost. He thought of how neither of you could fall asleep without being beside eachother. He thought of you, curled around his sleeping, emaciated nephew all those years ago, pint-sized and wielding a shard of glass like a dagger and snarling at him like a wildcat. Leave Levi alone, you had said, before you knew he was more friend than foe. 
He sighed. He could trust you, he knew. “I know Ackermans...” he finally muttered, glancing down at you, “Some, up on the surface. They all have an uncanny ability within them. They call it the Ackerman Instinct. In a time of great stress, it awakens in them. Everything clicks into place. They become machines. Killers. Weapons. The only thing that can best an Ackerman is an army. One day, that’ll awaken in Levi, and then... he’ll be invaluable.”
You grimaced, disgusted by his description of the boy you had grown up along side, the calculation behind his words. “You talk about him how that old pimp used to talk about me,” you said, repulsed, “If you think you’re gonna turn him into some kind of... some kind of tool, you’re wrong. Doubly so if you think I’ll let you sell him. Not Levi. Not while I’m here.” 
Kenny grinned sickly at you, “Not while you’re here? Little girl, what is it that you think you can do?” he asked, drawing himself to full height as he glowered down at you. 
You snarled. resembling that wildcat he’d seen curled around Levi years ago, now nearly grown into her paws. “I’ll fucking kill you if you try to take him from me,” you promised, “I swear to god, I’ll do it. It’s not like you’re some kind of Ackerman Killing Machine, or anything. Should be fucking easy.”
Kenny tried to keep a straight face, he really did. But confronted with your fury wrapped up so tightly in a thirteen year old body, hissing and spitting at him, and unknowingly telling Kenny ‘the ripper’ Ackerman he wasn't an Ackerman Killing Machine.... It tickled him. More than he had been in years. He broke out into rib breaking guffaws, your pouting face and insists that you were serious only adding fuel to the fire. 
Christ you were a fucking hoot. 
When he managed to get his breath back, he grinned down at you, lazily. “Don’t worry, little lady. I’m not here do nothing to Levi, and I suspect the little shit would put up a mighty fine fight if I tried to separate you two. He’s quite fond of you, in his own pint-sized psycho kind of way. I just... knew Kuchel.” Kenny was unsure of why he was telling you this, even as he said it, “We grew up... nearby each other. I want to do right by her brat, that’s all. Did I pass your test, Livewire?”
You pursed your lips, deliberating, as you looked up at the man who had been with you for years. To know that he and Miss Kuchel were close... that he wasn’t simply a besotted client who chose to do right by her kids as Levi and you had assumed...
You grabbed his wrist, dragging him to where your friend was curled outside the house. 
“You knew her... tell us what she was like.” you bargained, curling beside Levi like a cat, hand instinctively seeking his wrist as you leaned comfortably against his side. 
He glanced at you, startled out of his thoughts, confused and wary of what you may be up to. You grinned at the sight, knowing he was still waiting for you to repay him for putting an earthworm on your pillow last night. But revenge would have to wait, you had found bigger game to hunt. You turned your sharp eyes on Kenny, demanding. “Come on, old timer. I’d kill for someone to tell me stories about my mom. You’d be doing us sad orphans a mighty fine favor.”
Kenny sighed, squatting on the other side of Levi and lighting a cigarette. He had it halfway finished but the time he finally decided to give into your fidgeting, and Levi’s confused and annoyed expression. He huffed, and drug a hand across his face. Slowly, like each word was being pulled from him, he began. 
“Kuchel was... strong. She was a true Ackerman.”
Levi stiffened beside you, having never heard your crochety guardian talk about his mother before, and his hand went to where yours rested on his wrist, before his body slowly went lax beside you. You wormed your way closer to his warm side, and for once he didn’t wriggle and complain.
You and Levi listened to Kenny tell stories about Miss Kuchel until sunrise, side by side, eventually nodding off like that, snuggled against each other. 
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It was a rare night off for the two of you, where Kenny wasn’t running you both ragged. He told you he had business regarding the recent arrival of Military Police into the underground, and went off without any telling when he’d be back. 
You were almost unsure of what to do. Kenny had become a constant in your lives, his sharp tongue and acerbic nature driving you to do better, to be better. His constant reminders that while someday something would awaken in Levi and cause him to become a killing machine, today was not that day, and you needed to learn to protect him, to protect you.
You wondered if he preached the same sermon to Levi. You wondered, even, if it was all a lie, and nothing would awaken in your dark haired friend. You didn’t mind, really, him being subpar with a blade. But every time you watched him fumble, you remembered Kuchels words. The only way to make money in the Underground is as a thug or a whore. 
The statement rang brutally true, even now. You knew, whatever Kenny’s business what those MP was, it would involve being the former. You giggled suddenly. Unless... Kenny was on the other end of the spectrum?
Levi looked at you, startled at your sudden laughter, and you waved him away, “Just imagining Kenny in one of Miss Kuchels dresses. One of the puffy ones, even.” 
Levi’s mouth twitched, “The blue one would compliment his eyes.”
You guffawed. Levi had slowly been coming back to you, you realized. He rarely joked, over the past few years, locked deep inside his own head despite your efforts to drag him back out. The morning you woke up outside, snuggled together, had been awkward, but you didn’t quite understand why. You always slept beside each other, even if you weren’t touching. You didn’t quite understand why Levi couldn’t meet your eyes the next day, why he seemed to skitter away from your touch. To you, it had really only felt natural to wake up with him beside you, still warm from his body heat. 
His joking demeanor now bolstered yours, and you grinned at him, happy and carefree. The grin turned sly, and you batted long lashes at him, like you’d often seen Miss Kuchel do when she wanted something. 
“Levi... can you help me?” you asked, sidling closer to his side, hand finding his wrist.
He looked at you, wary once more, and you took it as a sign to continue. “Lets get on the roof,” you suggested, grinning devilishly at him, “check out the view!”
He scowled, and you almost relented until you saw the twitch of his nose, the tug on the corner of his mouth. The little bastard was almost smiling. You had never felt so proud.
“C’mon, Lee,” you wheedled, “I just need a boost. You’re still bunches stronger than I am, even if you are shit with a knife. And you’re taller than me now!”
The praise did the trick, and he began to walk towards the door, using your grip on his arm like a leash as he drug you along. “Fine, brat, but you’ll owe me one.”
You grinned, shifting your hand to catch his fingers. You promised, “For you, anything.”
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Getting on that damn roof had bruised you more than anything, and all to look at a shitty concrete ceiling above you, in a crappy Underground. Still, you and Levi laid there for a while in silence, only taking in the sounds of each other breathing and alive. He was your touchstone, and you were his. Always faithful, constantly by your side. Even with Kenny here, in your little house for years, it still didn’t feel constant. It felt like he could leave at any moment. But even if he did, you reflected, it was still you and Levi. The two of you wouldn’t ever be alone, so long as you had the other. 
Levi shifted, his shoulder brushing yours, his knee brushing your thigh, and he jerked away as if burnt. You hummed, sensing the beeping of a mine about to go off, and circumvented it. “Levi,” you murmured, “what do you think stars look like?”
“Huh?” he asked, properly diffused, “why would you ask that?”
You shrugged, continuing to stare up, “Just trying to imagine something better than damp concrete.” you finally said, blinking up, “I’ve been trying to imagine something better for a while now. I just... don’t know where to start.” 
He scoffed, before stilling beside you, studying the roof above you. You knew he thought it foolish, to wish for a better life. Especially when you were so far from the surface, the stairs leading upstairs an insurmountable dream, too tall for your weak legs to carry you up. 
“I hear they’re like... the sequins, on moms pretty blue dress.” he finally said, “only there's a bajillion of them up there.”
You took a moment to imagine this through the shock of the stoic boy beside you even humoring your request. The dark sky full of the small ornate sequin swirls on Miss Kuchels dress, and you wondered if they moved and swished like her skirt did. You wondered if they spun through the sky, or if they were stationary, ever present and watching, like guardians. Were they brighter than the dull dewdrops shining on the stone slabs above you? 
“I’d like to see them someday, if you were with me.” you rushed out, not understanding why the words burnt you like a confession, why you felt your face heating up. God, why was your heart beating so fast?
Levi looked at you like you we’re stupid, and you felt like swallowing your tongue. But then...
His hand found yours, wrapping your fingers tightly in his own. “Tch. Where the fuck else would I be, idiot?” 
And suddenly everything felt right. 
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Levi and you had decided to go to the market to steal some decent food for dinner, Kenny long gone on another trip. His parting advice of try not to die stinging and bolstering you. As if you would die. You felt like a goliath compared to when you were nine and starving and watching Kuchel wilt away, when you were eight and fighting and biting anything that got too close, when you were seven and learning to bite back tears and turn them into something useful, when you were five and had a mother who wanted you to be safe and warm no matter what the cost. 
You had come too far to simply die, and so had Levi. 
Even now, you bumped arms with him, walking close enough to trip if you weren’t so in sync. You smiled up at him, pleased with your successful theft, the loaf of bread, tin of oats, and apples feeling like meat, cheese, and honey to you.
“All in a days work,” you teased, “It’s not much, but it’s honest.”
He scoffed, glancing down at your grinning features as you stretched, lithe arms pressing outward and brushing his back, “it’s not even honest, it’s just not much.” he told you, voice deeper now than it had been when you’d first been found by Kenny. 
You shrugged, “Shit, birds gotta fly, orphans gotta eat.”
He nudged you with his hip, smirking down at you, almost showing teeth. He was fucking gorgeous when he smiled. 
You told him as much, watching the pretty blush rise up on his cheekbones. He even stuttered at you, letting out a “uh... I’m...”
You stopped, and he turned to you, curling into your form, like a shield, like a blanket. You peered up to him, wide eyes captivating him, drawing him in almost. You realized that if he was pretty smiling, he was even prettier smiling and blushing. 
You were deliberating the cost of rolling up and pressing your mouth to his, and then blinking in shock at the boldness of your thoughts, when you heard it.
“Hey, whore.” 
You grit your teeth, the voice sending unpleasant shivers of disgust up your spine. Even deepened into adulthood, you could recognize it. 
Vic. The same man who had spoken down on your mother, on Kuchel, for being whores.
“Ha,” he continued, “That little runt finally saved up enough to buy you, huh? How much after him? I’m not mad about sloppy seconds.” He leered. 
You felt Levi tense. He was frozen before you, and your hand found his, stroking across his knuckles, wishing to calm him, “Levi... he isn’t worth it. Let’s just go home.” 
But Vic didn’t care, Vic didn’t know you had spent the past few years training with a dictator of a teacher. Vic didn’t know you had a knife ready to draw, didn’t realize you had grown sharper and angrier, even if you hadn’t ever outgrown him.
He didn’t know you were waiting for the Ackerman instinct to kick in. 
Vic stepped towards you, grabbing you by the elbow, trying to yank you away from Levi’s grip. 
Like a flash, Levi lashed out, boney knuckles crashing into Vic’s cheek, your bag of stolen goods dropped to the floor. He drew his knife, fingers twiddling with the blade until it was poised for a downward strike. 
You’re signature move...
You turned, arm released, to aid Levi. As Vic lunged, overpowering Levi’s weak stance and clumsy movements, you rushed at his back. Levi watched your desperate attack, eyes widening, and giving you away. Vic realized the danger, remembering your tendency towards aggression, and spun to face you. He batted you away with his arm and his blade, and you heard Levi’s frantic yelp of ‘don’t touch her!’. You landed hard on the concrete, skidding and rolling, your breath punched out of you. You began to pick yourself up off the floor, winded and bleeding from your ribs and steeling yourself to throw yourself back into the fight, when another thug showed up. 
He was scrawnier than Vic, raised leaner. Probably, you realized, an orphanage kid who wasn’t the descendant of the head wallist. He had disregarded you, assuming you were a woman, and a whore, and uncapable of defending yourself. 
He would pay dearly for that, you decided. 
As he readied himself to attack Levi, you lunged, reckless and desperate. 
Because... Levi had just gotten the upper hand, was just beginning to overtake Vic. You couldn’t risk that, couldn’t allow another man to attack him and throw him off. You didn’t want to be alone, and you didn’t want to lose him.
You caught him around the middle, leg frantically kicking out to take him to the ground. The air rushed out of him with the hit, and he yelped. He was too surprised to twist to catch himself, and landed roughly on the ground.
You snarled, feral and up to your throat in adrenaline, unable to hear anything over the rapid-fire thump of your heartbeat. You couldn't focus on anything besides keeping this motherfucker away from Levi.
Your hand found the knife crammed into your belt, yanking it from its makeshift sheath and lunging, while you still had the upper-hand. He battered you away, smacking you violently. You tried to roll with the hit, jarring your leg as you yanked it violently from beneath him. You fought through the pins and needles crawling up your ankle, and scrambled backwards.
Levi grunted, and you frantically craned your neck to make sure he was okay.
The thug took advantage of your distraction, lunging on top of you, grabbing your hands and trying to wrestle the knife from your grip. You screeched your panic to the air, thrashing violently and kicking. He leered down at you, blood from a gash in his forehead dribbled down his jaw, dripping onto your face. You fought the urge to gag.
He raised the knife up, your hands still gripping it as you struggled to regain control, and began to plunge the point towards your chest.
You screamed and panted, fighting his downward thrust, feet scrabbling in the gravel as you tried to brace, and even you, with all your violent optimism, could see this was a losing battle.
You heard Levi scream, a sound of rage and panic, and Vic let out a startled, pained grunt. You heard the sound of rending flesh, something wet spilling out onto the ground.
"LEVI!" You screamed. Your brain whited out. The only thought running in your mind a frantic repetition of no, no, no no no. You couldn't lose him.
You let the thug overpower your grip, a controlled descent that ended in you releasing the knife and shoving his hand to the side. You jack-knifed away from the stab and under his legs, wriggling from beneath him and scrambling to your feet, violently swinging back one leg and kicking your foot with vicious intent into his ribs, all panic and no power. You braced and did it again. He gagged, skittering off his hands and knees and landing roughly to his side. You screeched, frantic and shaking.
"Fuck," you shouted, stomping his chest and feeling something give beneath your heel, "fuck, fuck, fuck!"
You kicked him one more time, and frantically grabbed the knife. The thug wheezed, lunging for you in staggering movements, and any question of whether to kill him or not disappeared from your mind as you twirled the blade between your fingers, and plunged it into his neck.
You felt the metal sink through his skin like a bruised apple, felt the clink of the tip hitting bone. You felt the blood spurt out as you withdrew and leapt back, hands shaking and dripping blood. You felt nausea roll up to replace the adrenaline as you watched him gurgle and choke, shaking hands grabbing for his neck before he convulsed one more time and went still.
You gagged, turning away from the body and into someone’s arms. You flinched away, trying to bat the hands back until you realized who was holding you.
Levi.
You looked up at him frantically, shoving your hands against your pants to wipe away the blood before they reached up to grasp his face.
You nearly sobbed. "You're okay... Levi..."
He grimaced as he looked at you, pursing his lips, the picture of composure while you stood quaking and whimpering. "I saw him, on top of you. You screamed."
You choked out a shaky laugh, "I was so scared. I didn’t know if you had- ...I was scared."
He scoffed. "No reason to be," he released you to look you over, before grabbing your hand, twining your fingers together, "you did a good job, with him. I just got Vic down when you started stomping his ribs."
At his mention of Vic, you peered past Levi’s shoulder. The thug was laying there, still and cooling in his own blood and entrails.
"Christ, Levi. You gutted him. Since when did you have that in you?"
He growled, shaking his head. "He was on top of you. I couldn't waste anymore time with Vic. Not with you screaming like that. Enough to give a man a headache."
You laughed, leaning into him, resting your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You let the shaking subside as his warmth seeped into you.
It was you, and Levi, and you were both alive and coming down off the adrenaline rush of your first kill and fuck. Even here, covered in blood and the stench of Vic’s ruptured bowels, with Levi beside you...
Everything felt right.
When Levi was by your side, everything felt right.
pt iv
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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years
Text
Fic: Haven (23/50)
Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.
But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…
The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…
Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.
Rated: T
==
Haven
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [AO3]
Summary: Trisha decides that she and Hohenheim need a date night. Sherman and Marcoh volunteer to babysit. What could possibly go wrong?
Characters: Marcoh, Sherman (OC), Ed, Al, Trisha
==
When Ab volunteered herself and him for babysitting duty after Trisha lamented not having had a date night since Ed was born, Tim was convinced that she had in fact lost the plot. Tim has no experience with children, and he’s fairly sure that Ab doesn’t either, and he’ll be very surprised if they manage to get to the end of the night with no one getting killed or arrested. Tim has lived through a lot, and yet the idea of spending two hours with the Elric brothers is one of the most terrifying things that he can imagine. How does one go about entertaining children anyway?
When he voices the thought to Ab as they walk up the hill towards the Elric house, she just looks at him.
“Tim, these are Hohenheim’s kids. You know exactly how to entertain them.”
“Ab, you are not teaching those children alchemy!”
“They’ve been learning since they were three! They live and breathe the stuff!”
He can see that he’s not going to convince her that it’s a bad idea, and he’s given up even hoping that no one will be killed or arrested by the end of the night. 
Trisha opens the door and lets them in; Tim has never seen her wearing make-up and not wearing an apron before. Thankfully, Hohenheim looks just the same as he always looks. Tim doesn’t think he can handle any more surprises tonight. 
“They’ve had dinner and they know they’re not allowed any more snacks before bed,” Trisha explains. “So don’t give in however much they might beg. They can stay up until we get home if they want.”
“What are the rules on alchemy?” Tim asks, in the vain hope of heading Ab off at the pass.
Trisha just laughs, which is not at all reassuring, and shows them through to the living room where the boys are playing.
“Boys, Dad and I are going out now. Be good for Miss Ab and Dr Tim.”
“We will.”
Almost as soon as Trisha and Hohenheim leave the house, Ab gives a massive grin, rubbing her hands together.
“Ok kiddos. Who wants to have a go at some whirlwind alchemy?”
The response to this suggestion is an enthusiastically positive one, and Tim groans inwardly. The boys pull on coats and shoes over their pyjamas - at least it’s a mild summer night - and Ab herds them into the garden, showing them how to draw out her basic circle on the ground. Tim supposes he should be thankful that she had the sense not to attempt whirlwind alchemy indoors. 
It’s good to see Ab confident about using her specialised alchemy again though. It took over a year for her to come back to it after she left Ishval and rendered her tattoos useless. Tim hasn’t reached the stage of being comfortable returning to bioalchemy yet. The memories of his time involved in Philosopher’s Stone research are still far too fresh, especially given the conversations that he’s had with Hohenheim since he’s been in Resembool.
"Ok kids, I think we're ready. Tim, there's no need to look like we're about to blow the house down."
Tim raises an eyebrow, and Ab sighs.
"Tim, I am a professional. I promise you that I will not let anyone blow the house down."
Tim remains unconvinced, and is on the verge of drawing up a wall circle that he can activate and throw up to protect the little whitewashed house from what he is certain is going to be imminent destruction. The boys don't seem to notice his consternation and kneel down on the ground, pressing their hands against the circle to activate it. The lightning races around the edge and lights up the array, and they grin at each other. 
"The first thing you need to do is feel the particles in the air like you feel them in the ground when you do earth-based alchemy," Ab says, getting down on the ground with them, her hands hovering over the circle. "Lift your hands off the circle and see if you can feel the air particles. It's a bit harder because they're not tightly packed, but you should be able to feel them moving."
Despite still fearing for his safety, it's nice to see Ab teaching again. Tim knows she always intended to take an apprentice and pass on the secrets of whirlwind alchemy before Ishval happened, and teaching the Elric brothers is about as good a stopgap as she's going to get in the meantime. At least now she's teaching it to those who aren't likely ever to have to use it in service of the state. They've all used their alchemy for destructive ends for so long that sometimes it's hard to remember that it has positive uses as well, rather than just being bent to the military's will. 
"Once you feel the air particles, you need to make them move in the direction that you want them to move in; just like you change the order of the earth particles to make it into a different shape. We're going to make the air into a different shape. It's easiest like this." Ab holds her hands out horizontally, palms together but not quite touching, and makes little circular motions. Tim's seen her throw tornadoes off her palms like lightning and it's mesmerising to see it all in slow motion. A tiny whirlwind begins to form between her hands, and the boys copy her. Ab smiles at their exclamations of wonder, and adjusts their hand positions. 
"Now you can send the air wherever you want it to go. Let's stick with that direction."
Ab throws off her tiny whirlwind away from the house and the tree, and it soon fizzles out in the existing breeze. Perhaps another time, Tim would wonder what he was so worried about, but he's still not convinced that everything's going to be all right yet. 
The boys follow suit, their own little whirlwinds fizzling out soon after, and the light from the transmutation circle fades, this batch of tectonic energy used up. 
"Can we try again?"
"Go for it. Just don't aim the air towards the house or you'll give Tim a heart attack."
The kids continue to practice their little tornadoes for a while and Ab stands back, always ready to catch any wayward whirlwinds and redirect or flatten them. Eventually, the evening gets too cold for them to stay outdoors, and they go back inside. Tim tasks himself with making tea whilst Ab fields question after question about whirlwind alchemy from the boys. 
"What would you use it for?"
"The air's a good source of energy. Think about windmills. We can use whirlwind alchemy to make sure that the windmills are always able to go around and keep working."
It’s good to remember that alchemy can be used to help rather than hurt. 
The boys are evidently getting tired as the pace of their rapid-fire questioning slows, but they’re still awake, if drooping a little, when the front door opens and Trisha and Hohenheim return. 
“Hey boys.” Trisha comes over and gives each of them a kiss, both of them attempting to fend her off with exclamations of grossness. “Were you good for Miss Ab and Dr Tim?”
“Miss Ab taught us Whirlwind alchemy!” Al exclaims.
“Did she now?” Trisha just grins.
“Yeah, we can make windmills go now! Well, only little ones. But I’m sure we’ll get better!”
“I’m sure you will. Now, you go up and clean your teeth, and Dad and I will come tuck you in in a minute.”
The boys protest that they’re not tired, but since the protests are punctuated by long yawns, they give in easily and shuffle up the stairs. 
“They were good as gold,” Ab says to Trisha. “It was good to share my secrets with such enthusiastic pupils again. I know we’ve said it so many times before, but they really do have a natural gift for it. I reckon they could learn any branch they put their mind to.” For a moment, Ab looks wistful. “They’re in the best place, here in Resembool,” she says eventually. “Here where they’ll be hidden, nice and safe away from Bradley and the State Alchemist program wanting to get their claws into their talents.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll make sure no one gets their claws into anyone.” Trisha sounds so bright and optimistic but there’s inner steel there; it’s one of the many qualities that Tim admires in her. 
He and Ab say their goodbyes and leave the house, and Ab gives a happy sigh as they make their way down the hill in the dark. 
“I like to think that one day there’ll be a generation of alchemists who aren’t as screwed up as we are, who can really take it back to its roots and use it for good.”
Tim likes that thought, too.
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retrovirge · 4 years
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Camp Starlight (+ Contest!)
Hey y’all!
So, I had an idea for a contest!!! So basically, here’s how it goes:
Artists can draw any scene from this very story that they so desire, whatever image comes into their head for inspiration. You post it and tag it with #starlightdrabbledraw and leave a link to this post in your own (you dont have to, but it would be preferred!) and boom! You’re done! (I’m holding this on amino too so the winners will be selected from both platforms.)
I’m gonna make it so entries are due October 15th :3 you can totally enter after that, you just won’t be eligible for prizes :))
And uh I’m also gonna be giving out prizes! So here they are!
1st Place
Either: a longer short story (A story that’s anywhere from 2000-4000 words, maybe more), two short stories/extended art drabbles (at the most 1500 words) or four drabbles/art drabbles (under 1000 words) (keep in mind if you choose the longer story it will take me quite a while due to my own personal reasons.)
2nd Place
Either: A short story/extended art drabble (at the most 1500 words) or three drabbles/art drabbles (under 1000 words)
3rd Place
Two drabbles/art drabbles
4th Place
One drabble/art drabble
(Please keep in mind I can’t write all prompts because some give me a lot of writers block, so I may have to ask to change prompts with you if you win. Also, for art drabbles, I will need proper, linked credit to the artist so I can message them and ask if I can repost.)
So yeah, there you go! There will also be honourable mentions and stuff, but yeah! AnYways, onto the story! (Which you can totally just read on your own if you don’t feel like entering the contest ^w^)
⚠️Triggers⚠️
Remus’ innuendos, mentions of fire, mentions of bugs
Word Count - 3132
~
”Come on, kiddos! Let’s go camping, it’ll be fun!”
Those were the words that Patton had spoken a few nights ago. Roman had mixed feelings about it. Virgil was anxious. Logan was... Quite eager, actually, but didn’t show it. There was so much nature to study out there, he was very much excited. Janus didn’t seem to care, and Remus seemed to be marvelling at all the mischief he could cause while camping.
And that’s how they found themselves in the car a few days later. Roman and Patton loudly singing in the front seat, Remus occasionally butting in and changing the lyrics to ‘more fun ones’ (Patton did not like that very much), with the other three sides covering their ears in the backseat, passing around looks of mutual annoyance.
The car ride felt like forever, but they had eventually pulled up at the campsite. They parked the trailer, pitched the tent (cause there wasn’t enough room for everyone in the trailer), and set up anything else they needed to. And then they went off, deciding to check out the campsite. Patton decided to have everyone split up into groups of two, and allow them to rotate whenever they wanted. After making sure everyone was okay with that, off they went. Logan went with Janus, Roman went with Patton, and Virgil went with Remus.
So what were they all doing? Well, Janus and Logan decided to go through a walk in the forest. Logan was going a little nuts and jotting down notes for any unknown piece of nature he spotted, while Janus was simply admiring everything. Holding leaves in his hands, smelling flowers, stuff like that. He looked over at Logan, sighing as he watched him zip around. “Nerd, come here-“
Logan looked up, a look of confusion spreading over his face. He hopped up from where he was kneeled, walking over to Janus. He raised an eyebrow. “How may I assist you?”
Janus surprised him by simply sNatching his notebook. “Hey-! Janus, you can’t-“
”Shush, Logan. You /don’t work enough/, alright? Why don’t you just live in the moment with me for a bit?” The snake man asked, head tilting to the side as he cocked his eyebrow into a raise.
Logan opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, letting out a sigh, realizing Janus would not let up if he refused. “...Fine.”
They walked on, Logan’s eyes flickering around curiously as Janus took his time to admire nature. Logan would occasionally glance over with pleading eyes for the notebook, but Jan just shook his head at him, giving a small smile when Logan sighed.
Eventually, they found some animals. Some bugs, some squirrels, even some birds. Logan found himself kneeled down, holding a White-spotted sawyer. Janus on the other hand, took out some bird seed and got a bird onto his hand. They were both silent, growing content with their current actions and habitat.
• • •
Meanwhile, Roman and Patton were off discovering the children’s playgrounds of the campsite. Roman found himself going between sliding down a slide and spinning on a... Spinny thing, while Patton was going between swinging on the swings and sliding down a pole. The pair ignored any weird looks they got from kids, along with other adults that happened to be around. They were just having fun, and they knew that.
Roman let out a loud laugh as he slid down the slide for the umpteenth time, looking to Patton with a grin. “We should go to parks more oFten, Padré! It’s so much fUN!”
Patton responded with a big smile as he swung as high as he could on the swing, a loud laugh escaping him. “I know!! Good golly miss molly, we really do.” He grinned, slowing down the swing a bit before hopping off with a laugh. “I wonder if there are any more parks down here??”
Roman let out a gasp, now on a spinning pole. “Patton, you’re a genius!” He hopped off of his pole, stumbling over to Patton due to being dizzy from the spinning. The moral side tilted his head, smiling at the prince. “We should look around more! I’m not sure how long we’ve been at the park, actually.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck, then clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s okay! We can change that!” He smiled at the eager nod in agreement he received from Roman.
And then they were off. On an adventure to find another park. Wandering through the campground, skipping and admiring animals and flowers, singing random songs, all in all, just bois bein bois.
Soon, they stumbled upon another park, eyes widening at just how much bigger this one was. The last one had a small playground and some swings, but this one had two climbing areas with slides, one of those circular shaped things where you could hop on and spin it, and last but not least, a swingset for both babies/toddlers and anyone older than that. It made the last playground pale in comparison.
Patton and Roman were of course quick to get to work testing all the playground equipment, the two coming up with a number system to rate the ‘fun-ness’ level of each one. Because why the heck not?
Patton even discovered a cool looking bug, and Roman snapped a picture of it on his phone so they could ask Logan about it later. Patton found the bug kinda creepy, but Roman held it no problem, only letting out a high pitched scream when it flew away. Because let’s be honest, bugs can look kinda scary when they fly away, unless it’s a butterfly.
All in all, they were enjoying themselves, happily playing and discovering and laughing like a group of kids.
• • •
Then you got Virgil and Remus.
The pair had decided to go searching around for anything to do really, Virgil trying to keep Remus’ head out of subjects such as what he could possibly throw in the fire, or how easy it was to set everything aflame. He claimed it was for scientific reasons, but Virgil knew this wasn’t Logan he was with.
So he simply gave Remus a small jar with some dirt, telling him he could get some worms because a few of the sides had mentioned wanting to go fishing at some point. More specifically, Janus. Logan said he might join in, and Roman had said he wanted to watch to see what they would catch. (Janus did not look amused, knowing Roman would probably scare all the fish away.)
Virgil kept a close eye on Remus, wandering around himself. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what to do, so he just went and bought some firewood. By the time he emerged from the store, Remus was there, jumping up and down and yelling about how he caught a twisty pink earth noodle.
After a bit of chatter, Virgil and Remus wandered back to the campsite, where Virgil tried to get a fire going. However, his fear got the best of him and he chickened out. (But luckily, Janus came back to get something and gladly lit the fire for him, before leaving.)
So now they were simply sat around the fire, roasting hot dogs for dinner. Well... Virgil was. Remus was just throwing them in the fire. After about three hot dogs being thrown in (Virgil telling him “stop it.” every single time-) Virgil looked up with a sigh. “Remus!” He hissed. “Quit throwin’ hot dogs in the fire! They weren’t very cheap and we’re gonna run out!”
Remus just let out a laugh, smirking at Virgil with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess if we run out, I’ll just have to use yours then~” He laughed at Virgil’s reaction, aka an obnoxious groan and facepalm. “Oh my g o d, shut up...” Remus just grinned at him. “M a k e m e.”
Virgil stared at him for a few seconds, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He shook his head and looked down at his own cooking hot dog, twisting it in circles slowly. “You’re paying for the next batch if we run out.”
Slowly, the rest of the sides began to make their way back to camp, just in time for the sunset. Remus did in fact have to go buy more hot dogs, and soon the sun was setting, and they were all roasting and or eating hot dogs around the fire, laughing and talking.
Eventually the conversation got to sleeping arrangements. They brought three tents, so that meant two people per tent. After some decision making, they chose the same groups they went off in today. Logan and Janus, Roman and Patton, and Remus and Virgil.
They roasted marshmallows around the fire, most of the sides roasting golden marshmallows, unlike Remus, who completely burnt his marshmallow and ate the s’more in one bite.
After dinner and s’mores, the sun had completely set, and they chose to go on a walk down to the dock that was by the lake. At first, Logan hadn’t wanted to go, but soon after, he was proven very wrong, and he knew damn well he was extremely glad that he was dragged on the walk.
The reason? Upon arriving at the dock, Logan took one look up and any negative thoughts, emotions, and words all just faded away.
Stars.
Hundreds of beautiful stars freckled across the night sky, the light of the moon reflecting in the ocean. He swore he could almost see galaxies among the bright lights, his eyes widening as a shooting star bolted across the sky.
It was truly beautiful.
Logan could sit out all night and admire every star individually, and he knew even then he wouldn’t be able to take in the full beauty of all the stars visible to him, even by morning.
Sitting down at the end of the dock, Logan let his eyes flicker among the stars. He tried to take in the beauty. Take in the light. Truly enjoy the stars. And he was. Well, until...
”Hey- guys?”
Everyone perked their heads up to look at Virgil, who had spoken. He had his eyebrows furrowed and he was looking around. “I... Don’t mean to be a party pooper, but... Could we go back-? It’s... Kinda spooky out here.”
Roman let out a loud groan, making a dramatic noise. “Come o n ! We ju st got here! Look at the stars!” He threw his arms out, flopping down next to Logan. “Look at the beauty our universe holds! Look at mE, for crying out loud!” He pointed at himself, making Logan facepalm.
Virgil sighed. “...Okay. I can just go back myself, then.” He mumbled, crossing his arms and turning to leave, only for Patton to stop him. “Ah, ah ah! You aren’t leaving on your own, us 6 have to stick together! So we’re all going back right now!” He said, making Roman huff. “But- but Patton! We’re adults!! We can stay out here alone!”
“Yes, and I’m well aware of that. But I don’t want you guys to stay out here alone! Something could happen!” He said, making the other groan. “Come on, we’re going.” He began to walk back with Virgil.
Logan had a visible frown on his face as he got up, making Roman tilt his head and go over to him, letting Jan and Remus walk ahead of them. “You good, nerd?”
Logan sighed. “Satisfactory, yes.” He said as they began to slowly walk. Roman frowned. “You’re a bad liar. You can talk to me, y’know?” He said quietly, starting to look around.
Logan was silent, and Roman didn’t push it. He didn’t want to make Logan mad at him, so he simply left it. Until Logan did speak. “...I am simply... Unhappy about leaving the dock. The stars were quite remarkable to look at, and... I’m unsure if they’ll resemble this exact, beautiful state again.” He said quietly, frowning and letting his head bow, quietly watching his feet move forward and drag back with every step he took.
Roman frowned a little, letting out a sigh. “...I see. I’m sorry, Logan.” He said quietly, pushing his hands into his pockets. “That’s quite an understandable reason to be upset, if it makes you feel any better.” He pointed out, making Logan sigh and nod. “Thank you, Roman.” He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “...Well, we are almost back at camp. I suggest we put out the fire and make use of our tents for the night.” He said, receiving a nod in response from Roman.
After arriving back to camp and talking a little more, they did just that. They put out the campfire, confirmed sleeping arrangements a final time, got ready for bed, then ducked into their tents. Everyone fell asleep quite quickly, except for Remus, who kept getting mumbles from an annoyed Virgil saying, “Go to hell to sleep.”
Oh, and Logan. He was laid out in his tent, his glasses next to his sleeping bag as he lay curled up, shivering from the cold and sighing. He could hear Janus’ soft breathing from the sleeping bag next to his, and part of him wanted to wake him up so the nerd wouldn’t be confined to his lonesome, but he wasn’t going to take sleep from Janus for his own comfort.
He eventually did lure off to sleep, soft snores escaping him as he lay curled up in the beanbag, his mind slipping into a dreamless, yet relaxing state.
It was a long night, yet peaceful.
• • •
”Logan- Logan! C’mon, wake up-!”
”Mmh...?”
Logan stirred in his sleeping bag, eyes slowly opening as his head turned to face wherever the whisper-shouting voice was coming from. His eyes fluttered open, and he let out a small gasp as Roman was suddenly there. The prince pressed his fingers to his lips and shushed Logan, whispering to him. “Shh... C’mon.” He carefully left the tent, and Logan was just confused at this point.
He glanced around tiredly, grabbing his glasses and putting them on after rubbing his eyes, turning to look at Janus’ sleeping bag. He was still there. Still fast asleep, unphased by Roman’s sudden appearance.
Logan opened his mouth and then closed it, letting out a sigh. He carefully crawled out of the tent, frowning confusedly when he noticed it was still dark. ...What was Roman planning?
Getting up, he quietly zipped up the tent, then made his way over to Roman. “...What are you doing?” He whispered, a confused frown on his face.
Roman just grinned at him, taking his hand. “You’ll see.” He whispered, taking him out of the camp area containing the tents- where everyone was still sleeping, Logan assumed- turned left, and began to walk.
Logan asked questions all the way to their destination, until they eventually began to near it, and it clicked in Logan’s mind.
They were going to the dock.
”Roman, why...” Logan’s face was full of confusion as he turned his head to look at the prince-like side, who just smiled at Logan. “You said you wanted to see the stars for longer, did you not?” His voice came out in a soft, gentle tone as he guided Logan onto the dock, stopping near the endHe smiled at the nerd, carefully going down and laying on the dock, ignoring the wetness of the wood below him. He gazed at the sky for a few moments, then looked to Logan again. “...Well, are you going to watch the stars with me, or not?” He said, to which Logan shook his head as if he was snapping out of something, then carefully nodded, slowly laying down next to Roman.
They were quiet as they silently laid there, gaze flickering among the pretty stars that rested above their heads, just enjoying the stars and each other’s company.
”Mmm... Logan?”
”Yes, Roman?”
”...Do you know a lot about astrology?”
”...I’d say so, yes.”
”Can... Can you teach me a bit?”
”Why... Certainly, Roman.”
And so Logan began to talk quietly, falling into a ramble. About constellations, about the solar system, things like that. Roman stopped watching the stars, turning to gaze at Logan with fond eyes. He could listen to him talk for hours. Although Logan’s voice may have seemed monotone and lacking most emotion, Roman liked it. Adored it, even. He wasn’t sure why, but Logan’s voice was just beautiful to him. God, Logan was just...
Roman wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but it happened before he could stop it. Next thing he knew, he was moving closer and closer, until eventually...
His head moved up, and his lips were on Logan’s.
Logan was shocked by it at first, his eyes wide. Roman realized what he was doing and pulled away, letting out a gasp. “Oh- jesus, um- I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to do that-“ He started to get up. “I-I can just-“
Logan pulled him back down before he could go, pressing their lips together once again. Roman let out a gasp, freezing for a moment before slowly melting into the feeling, closing his eyes and returning the kiss. “...Hm.”
They stayed like that for god knows how long, just smoochin’ under the stars. They both felt calm, and quite good.
Eventually, they pulled away for air, both panting as they stared at each other. Roman was the one to break the silence. “...W-Wow.” Logan blinked, nodding in agreement. “...Y-Yeah. Wow.”
Roman gazed at him for a few more minutes, eyes slightly wide. He eventually took a small breath and let out a little laugh, Logan responding with a flustered smile. The creative side carefully laid down next to Logan, and they stayed quiet. They could talk about the kiss later, but for now they just wanted to enjoy the stars, and enjoy each other.
Eventually, they fell asleep under the night sky with a small smile occasionally coming up on both of their faces, fingers intertwined which eventually led to the two scooting closer to one another.
You can imagine the fun that pursued when Patton woke up and was unable to find Logan or Roman anywhere.
~
apologies if this seems rushed ^^;
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purpleheartpenguin · 4 years
Text
I was just informed it’s Remus Sander’s Birthday?
Yo, dude! Happy b-day! Second favorite side 4ever! 
Because i can i wrote a little drabble about what the sides gave him:
     Remus laughed quietly, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his room. The black walls added to the dim affect, the only light being the few cracked lightbulbs on the ceiling. Smiling, he crawled over to his pile of presents. He had only been interdouced for one episode, and yet all of the sides(even Virgil, despite the fact he hated Remus) had presented Remus with a little gift for his birthday. Remus had put opening them off until the night, deciding that since he had two birthdays, it would only make sense for him to open his hopefully dirty  gifts during the at 11:59 AM. He watched the clock on the opposite wall impatientaly, about to give up and just tear his presents open, when finally, the little “58″ turned to a 59. He practically jumped up from where he was sitting, his moustache twitching ever so slightly. 
     Looking at all the different colored presents, he started by going for the pale yellow wrapped box. He knew it was from Janus the minute he saw it, and knew what it was already, but that didn’t stop him from being ever-less excited. Finally getting to the cardboard box his gift was in, he carefully flicked the top off, revealing a little octopus plushie and a 100-page story written exclusively for Remus. He let off a rare soft smile, placing the story back in the box and cuddling the octopus for a minute before dropping it in his lap and reaching for the next package, which seemed to be hastily wrapped in old newspapers. Easily tearing off the “wrapping”, he found 3 sticks of deodorant and a sloppy note with the words “Happy b-day” written on it. Tossing the note back with the other wrapping paper, he placed Virgil’s gift off to the side for another day, knowing the flavor wasn’t the best. Getting up and stretching to reach the last four, he started by opening a well-decorated card on light green paper, with the words “Happy birthday Remus” on the front and a little note signed by Thomas on the back. A little bored with it, he placed it with Virgil’s deodorant and grasped the package from Patton, which looked like a container of Tupperware. Raising his eyebrows and opening it up, he found a little note with the words “Dear Remus, although I might be a little scared and uncomfortable about you, your still my kiddo! Love, Patton” written on top. He threw it with the newspaper and Virgil’s note, and looked inside to find a batch of cookies. Snapping his fingers and decorating them a bit more Definitely not creepy bugs and poop emojis , he gently dropped it next to the other gifts. 
     Now it was the smartie’s gift. Remus was definitely, to say the least, surprised, when the nerd had came up to him and handed him a well-wrapped package, with a curt nod and a short “Happy Birthday”. He was half sure it was book, by the ways some pieces stuck out, and wasn’t really excited about it. Disregarding that, he opened it, and eyes practically lighting up when seeing it was a full set of the “Weird but True” series. Placing it next to Janus’s story, he hesitantly turned towards Roman’s gift. He really didn’t expect anything from him since they were basically enemies but still accepted the gift when he found it in his side of the imagination nonetheless. Cracking it open, his confusion turned to excitement as he saw his brother had gifted him with a brand new sketchbook, half the pages filled in with Roman’s drawings. Realizing it was one of those “fill in the blank” books, but with comics, he smiled, knowing Roman was going to love the end result. 
    Happy and content, Remus looked over towards the clock that now read 12:39. He blinked in surprise. Had it really been that long. It didn’t feel that way. Grabbing his plushie and the story Janus sent him totally didn’t forget about the others presents it was just routine for him to do this every birthday, cuddling into his king-sized bed, his lips perked up as he flipped the page and started Jay’s story. 
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pepper-mint · 5 years
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Announcements(?)
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Read pleaseee
Okay o k a y
Don’t worry this is nothing bad! I just wanted to ask you guys some things(?). So, Imma separate them in numbers. 
1) New characters (Ship kids)
 You see, do you remember that I told you that I was going to re-make my comic “Undergrounded”... no? Oops, now you know it(?). 
I’m remaking it bacuse I want it to be only about my kiddos and their story, so you can finally get to know them. HOWEVER, I wanted to ask you guys this... I have made my last batch(?) of ship kids. Yep, I have a new group who’ll also join this comic and that would be the last I make for this fandom. So, I wanted to ask you... would you like to see them before their debut in the comic (they would be last ones to apper tho--) so you can know them before it or would you like to wait for them to appear in the comic? I have made some drawings of them and not of the ones you already know. That’s why I haven’t been posting any ship kid related drawings x’D
2) Adopts
 I’m making adopts! Would you like me to post them here so you can buy them? They would be human, furry and skeletons (not undertale related). I’m also thinking of making a little raffle for one of them.
3) New characters (Original)
This isn’t a question but rather a real announcement. Imma start posting original characters from my original stories! It’ll also include the orginal versions of most of my ship kids. You see, I love Undertale and while i’m not planning of leaving the fandom, I want to post my original characters in all my social media. I was originaly going to post them in my alternative facebook page and my primary blog, @sketchy-bakery but then I decided no to. Pepper-mint is my main blog and I don’t want it to keep it only Undertale related cuz I don’t want it to see it die once you get bored of the fandom yuy
4) Commissions
Another little announcement for those who’re going to commission me/ commissioned me already. Once I open my commissions, I usually get a group of them and make them together to save time. That’s why I usually take my time to make them. And lately, thanks to the crazy things that are taking place in my country, there are times when I don’t have internet. This issue take days to weeks to be fixed so I might have some problems with my turnaround time. However, fear not that I’m making them as fast as I can so you can have your commission done in no time! Just be patient with me yuy
5) Popularity poll
This is something I have been wanting to make since last year! I’m planning of making a little popularity poll to see which one of my kiddos is the most popular in my blog! So, I’ll start making it as soon as I have time and give ya a link so you can vote. You can vote for your favorite, for the one you think is cooler/cuter or just for the one you’d like to see more! The winner... well, I’m not sure yet what to make for them. But I have time to think, hehe!
6) Raffle
This is another announcement. I’ll be making another raffle since the last one is too old and I want to give new followers the chance to join. You’ll see the post soon, once I’m sure I have time to make it. 
That’s all for now! Feel free to answer to my questions here in te comments or in my ask box. Thank you so much for reading this and sorry if it’s too long! ^^U *disappears for another week(?)*
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fandomcathouse · 5 years
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SSDD - Ch1 All Hands on Deck
AO3 - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings
Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Violence & Behavior
Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie
Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE IT’S V PROLOGUE - Pairing V/OFC
If there was one thing Vergil was thankful for, it was that even when he was severely poisoned he could not only feel the presence of the Yamato but also his son. He was also thankful they were in the same place, making it so much easier to focus. Wrapped up in his cloak, shivering even when he was dripping sweat from excursion and fever, he picked his head up when he heard the voice of a sweet girl.
“Hey you two! Dinner’s ready!”
Vergil’s brows pinched together. Was that Kyrie? It echoed from the garage up ahead, the door halfway open. He’d be able to duck under it. That was where the source of the energies was, too.
He wasn’t one to swear, not like Dante or even Nero, but fuck his whole body was shooting white-hot pain all over every step he took...Goddamn Stolas’ for sicking his poisonous plants on him, going after him from behind...All because of Abaddon...
“You, uh...you need somethin’?”
When had he gotten across the road?
“What...hungry? Heh...in luck...food’s ready and Kyrie...too much.” As his vision doubled, most of the sentence was distorted. The sound of clanking reached his ears. That was definitely his son’s voice, and that had been Kyrie after all. Nero had said her name so sweetly...had their relationship developed further? How long...had he been away?
Vergil slipped under the garage door and slowly stepped closer, breathing heavy. His mind was wavering...Focus! He needed to tell Nero he needed help.
“Hope...loud talkers...a pair of those...” Nero had stood up and paused whatever he was saying, but now he was closer Vergil heard him more clearly, “...see somethin’ ya like?”
A blue glow alerted Vergil, feeling the energy of the Yamato spike. When had his son’s arm become demonic?
“You a demon?” Nero growled, obviously on edge now.
That wasn’t what he wanted and he lifted his hand, skin showing grey and veins black in the light. Suddenly desperate he worked his throat and rocked on his heels as he lost his balance, “Nero…”
“Nero! The food’s getting cold! What’s-” Kyrie was immediately cut off.
“Call Dante!” Nero shouted as he swung himself forward. The voice sounded...but it couldn’t. When the robe fell from his face, Nero’s eyes widened and then narrowed. His father looked as though he had aged terribly. The black veins were sucking the very life out of him, and it looked like it was slow acting. Nero knew not a thing about poisons. He only knew how to point and shoot. Kyrie might have something in the home to help slow it down further, but an actual antidote would have to come from Dante, if the demon hunter even knew what the poison was. If this could be cured. “Hey. Father.” His skin was flecking at his very touch, as though he were crumbling to dust.
He slowly pulled the robe back on, trying not to let it rub too much on his father’s skin and hoisted him up. “We’re going to get you upstairs.” He told him seriously. “Kyrie’s calling Dante, I’m sure and we’ll get you better.” As better as they possibly could. “Alright? You gotta stay with me ol’ man. That’s your job right now. You got that? Stay with me.”
His voice needed to work goddamn it but all he got for a second was a chest-rattling grunt to show he was listening. Any other circumstance he would consider this humiliating, and every jostle, as accidental as it was, hurt like a bitch. When he was finally set down on a bed - at least it wasn’t a couch - he reached and grabbed Nero’s arm, choking out, “Yamato...the...power will...” he hissed as his whole body shuddered in a shiver yet a bead of sweat went down his temple, “Slow..it...down...” he finished, feeling incredibly weak and he hated it.
Slow it down? Nero looked at his arm where the Yamato was sealed away. Dante was going to fry him. The Yamato would practically call out every demon from their hiding spots, but what choice did he have? He reached into his palm and pulled the sword out, covered in blood and his arm falling limp from use, Nero had gritted his teeth so finely it was amazing he hadn’t screamed from his own pain. “What do I do?”
Instead of wasting breath, Vergil took it from him and promptly pressed it to his chest where it pulsed with energy. It felt good to have his sword back in his hands, and it when he was able to finally suck air through his teeth and into his lungs instead of fighting for every breath, he relaxed into the bed. Eyes fluttering back open, they were a lot clearer now. Everything still hurt, the poison was still creeping, but he didn’t look or feel like he was going to die in the next heartbeat. “In answer to...your question,” he swallowed hard, throat dry, “Check with...Kyrie. The poison is...from Stolas’ plants. Another demon.” Not being able to articulate his words properly irked him to Hell and back. At least he got his point across.
Nero got up onto his feet. “I got it.” He told him as he walked out of the room. The girls were around the kitchen table looking grim.
“What was that about?” Nico asked clicking her tongue and folding her arms.
“Poison from Stolas.” Nero looked over at Kyrie who was holding the phone. “If that’s still Dante tell him that. I bet he had a few ideas.”
“Do you know who Stolas is?” Kyrie asked the seasoned hunter on the other end, her hand pressed over her heart in worry, “Nero learned that’s where the poison’s from.” Noticing he was holding his arm and it wasn’t as bright, she tilted her head, silently asking if he was alright.
Nero nodded and gave Kyrie a trade-mark smile but he listened for Dante’s reply.
“Looks like I gotta call Lysander. Now to hope that one of them picks up the phone. I’ll be there shortly afterward. Not sure if it’ll help, but holy water might ease it a twinge. He’ll be in a hell of a lot of pain but it’s better that than to bite his tongue and die.” Dante sighed on the other end before hanging up.
“Holy water until help arrives. Do we have any?” she looked at Nico who tended to keep stock of their supplies, then to Nero, “Somebody named Lysander’s going to hopefully be here.”
Nico shrugged, “I might have some but you might wanna make another batch Kyrie just in case. I’ll go down to my van. Be back in a snitch.”
X
“Yo! Sis!” the younger Lysander sister shouted to the void that was her apartment with Charlotte, “The world must be ending, Dante’s called! Asking about plants. That’s your shtick.”
Charlotte blinked from reading. Quietly the older sister closed her book and dig into the mess of papers where her own cellphone was. Three missed calls. All from Dante. Oops. “What about plants?!”
Yvette came from the hallway, phone to her chest so she could talk without getting mixed signals, “Some douchebag demon named Stolas?”
“Ugh. Where?” Charlotte asked as she got up from her desk and went over to her closet. Better drag out the big guns. She reached up and pulled a large oak case that jiggled and clinked ominously. “We’re gonna have to go fast meaning you drive Vet.”
Pale green eyes lit up and she put the phone back to her ear, “Text me the address, would you? On our way now.” If she had the address then that’d make it easier for Charlotte to input it into her GPS and give her directions. Honestly, she was giddy with the thought of getting out of the house and driving. Sure it was dire circumstances, but meeting new people was always fun, and if it was Dante asking for help then part of her knew they were a few steps shy of having a hunt.
“Sure thing,” Dante said, “Tell your sister she’s shit at having a phone.” It was a nice little jab. “See you.”
Not even five seconds went by before Yvette’s phone dinged with a text for the address. Charlotte hauled the big case up and over her shoulder. The rattling increased tenfold. “Following you out the door kiddo.”
X
Honestly, falling asleep was a horrible idea. Vergil was lucky as hell to even open his eyes again. All he remembered last was little concerned Kyrie -my how she’d grown- soothing him while Nero not only made him drink a shot of holy water but apply it to some of the wounds from his skin flaking.
What brought him to consciousness he wasn’t quite sure. All of a sudden he felt Dante’s energy, and drawing near was the presence of what he could only guess was a witch. A rattling noise echoed in the hallway before the door was eased open. Reflexively he gripped his sword, but the sight before him threw his guard off. Straight strands of brown hair spilled over the woman’s shoulders, and as she turned on the light to see what she was doing he was sucked into deep green eyes that reminded him of staring into a forest.
Heaven and Hell combined, he must be really off his game, poison be damned.
Charlotte didn’t miss how he reached for his sword. A part of her wanted to be cheeky about how that sword wouldn’t do much against her and he was delusional, but she kept her mouth closed. This poor man was going through hell. She placed the big case on the ground and kicked it open. It unfolded itself to show so many different kinds of vials in many different colors.
She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slowly telegraphing her moves to pick up his arm and looked at the black veins. “Holy water?” She mused. “Fast thinking.” She looked up at the man who was on the bed.
“Can he be saved?” Dante asked, folding his arms against his chest.
“He can be,” Charlotte said soothingly and turned to Vergil. “Stolas did this? It’s a new kind of poison. Taking demonic energy and transforming it into literal poison.” She turned away and started to sift through the vials. She hummed a tune softly under her breath.
Such a lovely sound...Vergil closed his eyes briefly before he shifted, “Dante, Stolas got me...in the back. Starting at...the source...might help.” Which of course meant he had to take off his cloak, jacket, vest, and possibly his shirt. “Normally wounds...heal closed. This one...did not.” Which of course meant it had been festering.
Dante walked around the bed and helped Vergil turn around once they got him out off the complicated outfit. The odor was terrible and Charlotte clicked her teeth.
“What the fuck, dad.” Nero hissed when he saw the damage that was on his father’s back. He hadn’t wanted to leave his side, but holy…
“Stolas didn’t really know the safe word here.” Dante grimaced.
“Lets…” Charlotte started to pull her hair back into a makeshift bun. “Yvette I need gauze and warm wet towels.” She lowered herself so Vergil could hear her. “How steady is your grip? I can give it to you orally and you take it yourself or I find a different method.”
“Either holding the yamato...in a death grip...or not at all,” Vergil admitted with a sigh, feeling even colder than before but at least the cool air on the back of his neck where he was drenched in sweat was relieving. He heard the creaking of the door as this ‘Yvette’ left the room to get what was asked of her. “What other methods?”
“One method is that I administer it through a kiss, another is that I open that wound of yours and try to see if I can’t get it to take through the bloodstream. I can even have you sit up and I pour it down your throat if you’d prefer.” Charlotte listed.
“Won’t even consider taking you out to dinner Verg.” Dante teased, though the worried edge on his voice betrayed his feelings.
Nero rolled his eyes. He’s been there. He’s done that. “I’m going to help Yvette find the towels. It’s crowded in here.” He knew his father didn’t want to display too many weaknesses to too many people. At least the Lysander woman was trying her best.
“I was thinking...the same thing,” Vergil nodded to Nero in appreciation and he released a long breath when his son was out of the room, leaving the three of them. Even the Yamato pulsed a little bit when he thought about her kissing him and he shook his head in spite of the ache, “Sit up...pour it.” Lifting his hand to his brother he grit his teeth when Dante grasped his wrist and hauled him up, his body lurching to the side only to be caught by the woman. Her touch set him on edge, but not out of distaste. “My shirt. I’ll bite it.” Whatever it was she gave him to cure the poison was going to make him scream.
“I can knock yo-Okay then.” Dante had to admit it was nice that Charlotte didn’t even try to persuade Vergil to do the other thing. She uncapped the vial. “Brave man.” She set the cap to the side and she scooted a little closer to Vergil. She knew this was going to hurt. He was going to drink it, it was going to taste vile, he was going to hate it and when it was also poured on his wounds with the towel and gauze he was either going to pass out or scream loudly enough to wake up the neighborhood. That shirt of his was going to get torn, undoubtedly. She swirled the vial three times in either direction and looked at Vergil squarely. Like two warriors on opposite sides of a battle. “You can swear at me, I know I’m the bitch in this scenario.” Without further ado, she helped him drink it.
Vergil expected the taste and covered his mouth as he tried not to cough and spit it out, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the bile and the liquid. In the nothing that followed he grabbed his shirt, twisted it and when the first pangs of something made him double over he shoved the cloth in his mouth in time to feel burning.
Yvette returned with the items Char asked for in time to see Vergil slam his body back onto the bed which creaked ominously at the abuse. Screaming into the wad of his shirt while his hands gripped the edges. Yup. That shirt would be pieces by the end of this. “Lotty,” she whispered to get her sister’s attention, holding up the wraps and towels, “Anything else you need help with? Holding him down when you wrap him?”
Charlotte looked at Vergil who was panting, Dante was gripping his brother tightly and they both looked at each other before Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She said after a moment. “I think once we get this done, we can take watch. Make sure it doesn’t get worse or continue to spread.”
“Sounds like a plan, how long does it take?” Dante asked, carefully loosening his grip on his brother so that he could reposition himself. Charlotte carefully took the things from Yvette.
“Twenty four hours, if not a little less since he’s half-demon.” Charlotte determined. “The wound on the back is what I’m worried about most. It’s been infected and reinfected. Actually, Yvette, shove my case a little closer to the bed.”
Huffing mostly at the weight of it, Yvette did as she was told and cocked her head when Vergil screamed again, back arching and if it wasn’t for Dante she’d fear he’d snap his back in two, “I’ll get you another cloth for his forehead, a basin while I’m at it. He’s drenched.”
“You sound like a peach,” Charlotte said as she shifted through the vials a little quicker this time before picking one up. She unrolled the gauze and started to drip some onto cloth and leaned in uncomfortably close to get the wrapping around. “At least,” Charlotte said dryly, “I’m wearing a bra for this.”
Dante appreciated the humor. She was as much in an uncomfortable position as his brother and he was grateful that Charlotte knew how to work swiftly as she did carefully. His brother still writhed in pain and agony, but he still kept a firm grip so he wouldn’t ruin more of her handiwork. “This is going to take all night.” He sighed.
“I’d much rather he scream and punch than to go still and iced,” Charlotte said bluntly. “Yvette can hold him down as well as you can, but I’m pretty sure I’m pushing limits as I am.”
“You know his pride.” Dante huffed a laugh. “I didn’t realize that was infamous.”
“I have my own honor code I abide by. It drives Vet up the wall. Ask her. One time she legit threatened to shoot me over it I kid you not.”
“Oooh boy, you’re his type.” The younger twin snorted, but then had to double his grip again at another wave. “I’m a little worried about putting him on his back or even back on his stomach.” He admitted. “I don’t feel like he can handle that.”
Charlotte didn’t blame him for that line of thinking. But Dante couldn’t hold him all night long and while Yvette did offer to help, Charlotte wasn’t sure if it’d make things better or not. “We have to. We’re better off keeping him from rolling off the bed than we are to restrain him. That’s wasted energy and effort.”
“Logical and precise.” Dante let out a breath. “Okay then.”
They helped each other to get Vergil to lay down, but the moment that they got him back onto his stomach, it was a hell storm. It was agony for touch, for the skin to be pulled and soon enough that antidote would stop burning and it would be numbed, hopefully drugged. Hopefully. His back needed to heal, and him writhing around wasn’t helping. She didn’t doubt that after the first hour, she’d have to change them again.
“I’ll tell Nero we’re taking watch shifts and let Vet know that too. If you’re hungry, I’m sure Kyrie can heat up whatever dinner they were having.” Dante offered as he slowly got himself untangled from Vergil’s grip and body. “She feeds an army and then some, it’s no hassle.”
Charlotte sighed, “Sure. I can’t work on an empty stomach and if there’s room to share, I’ll take it.”
“Awesome. Keep an eye out, you get first watch,” Dante patted Charlotte’s shoulder before heading down the stairs to let the group know what was going on.
“Should’ve let ‘im punch me,” was the barely audible whisper when he was well out of earshot, voice too hoarse and literally cotton-mouthed after his tattered shirt was gone.
Charlotte looked down at Vergil. “At this point in time, I don’t think you’d even know what a punch feels like.”
All he did was hum and Yvette came back in with the cloth and basin she promised a while ago, “Dante told us. I’ll bring your food up when it’s ready, yeah?”
“Sure.” Charlotte looked over at Yvette, “By the dresser thanks.” She let out a low sigh as she started to make herself comfortable on the side of the bed. “I’m good here.” She assured her sister.
“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” Yvette gave her a sly wolfish smile and easily danced away when a pillow was thrown at her, ‘kekeke’ing and tossed it back before leaving her alone with Vergil until she brought food.
“Should’ve shot her, but I don’t know if that’s worth a bullet or my sanity,” Charlotte muttered darkly as she pushed the pillow against her stomach, glaring heatedly at the door. She waited for a moment, in case her sister decided to come back. When it was clear, she set the pillow to the side and went to the basin. The water was lukewarm, which was nice. She dipped the cloth in, and wringing it out before going back to Vergil and gently swiping it across the back of his neck and his forehead, humming soft.
Sleep had nearly claimed him before he felt her gentle touches and picked up on her sweet humming. It was the same tune from before and something he didn’t cater to often, curiosity, nagged at him. Perhaps later he could ask. Instead of releasing another little hum to answer hers, Vergil heard a different noise. With his body so numb, it took a second to realize it was coming from deep, deep in his chest. Not quite human, either. If he had any strength left to care, he would be embarrassed as hell his demon was purring and trilling.
Charlotte heard it. She heard it and it made her pleased. She didn’t know much about hybrids, let alone half-demons. Yet she knew that the demons had their own little purrs and noises that they made. Animalistic as they were, they were sometimes more human than humans. To know that hybrids and half-demons could do the same thing as a regular demon, well...that was going to be her secret to keep. She hummed in tune with the purring and trilling as she wiped away the sweat, and cooled his body down. She didn’t stop humming when she put the cloth back into the basin and went back to settle on the side of the bed. She certainly didn’t stop humming until he was nice and knocked out.
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azurexalacrity · 5 years
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Harmony's turn to get her friend back. Maybe a little much with one of those spring loaded envelopes of colorful glitter, but she thought he might get a good laugh out of it after digging himself out of what was probably an entire container of it. Bonus if it was already nightfall when he found it.
( @projectlightfox )
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 It appeared strange that out of all the days that an envelope would appear in his mailbox, it had to be today. Maybe it was a coincidence. After all, not everyone was knowledgeable of the prank infested holiday, nor have any interest regarding it. He can mark off a couple people he’s known that don’t celebrate whatsoever and while he didn’t mind that, it still pegged him that someone would just send him mail.
Then again, the mail could be anything. A late birthday card, a drawing that a fan made for him, a batch of Chili-dog coupons, or even letters. No matter what it could be, it got Saber skipping down the front yard, opening the hatch to the mailbox, and yanking out that envelope.
Slamming the box shut, an eager smile was shown on his face as his gloved fingers gripped on the corners of the envelope. Nothing seemed too off about it, per se. All he can really tell about it was that it had a dashing shade of color and that it was from… Harmony?
That raised a few eyebrows. It raised his for sure. Now, how in the world can that happen? Do inter-dimensional letters exist? Maybe. The hedgehog hummed in questioning, and the urge to tear open this “letter” has been killing him from the inside, like some devil on his shoulder demanding him to open it.
And so, after carefully tearing through the paper in order to open it, he opened the envelope. What he didn’t realize, however, was that he opened the hatch to… a whole stack of glitter launching at him, as if the envelope itself was a catapult.
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“Gaaaah!”
Colorful specs that resembled the rainbow (or one of the speedster’s favorite candies) dumped onto him like gallons of water. It got into his quills, coated his face, and he was more than ever sure that some of it are now in his teeth just because of him letting out a startled scream when it started.
He turned his arms around, his hands, and checked out the rest of his body. The glitter on him was like a fresh coat of paint, but at least it wasn’t as sticky as paint. Or glue. Or any sugary, gooey sweets. He had to spit out some of the glitters, but it wasn’t awful.
After all, once he stepped inside the bathroom, glancing at his glittery reflection in the mirror, he can’t help but sport a grin, making pose after pose. Sure, this kind of prank would be annoying to wash out later, and he had no doubt about that. Although, there’s no shame in having fun in it, right?
“Well played, kiddo, well played. But, hey…” He paused, winking at himself in the mirror, “I had no idea glitter looked good on me.”
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yugirl-with-dragons · 6 years
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Holy WOW. Hikaru in that last doodle batch is so feelsy for so many reasons. I can definitely see how Yusei would be against him using his powers in such a way. Do you think one day you might draw out a scene between them talking/arguing about it? Or if not drawing, just writing out how it would go? I'd be so interested in seeing/reading that. And thank you for all the kiddo drawings; excellent as always
I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE COMMENTING ON THAT OMG THANK U SO MUCH
Yes!!! Even though Aki tried to teach him how to control his powers (mostly the “don’t hurt anyone while dueling” part), Yusei is the one who asked Hikaru to never hurt anyone with his powers, especially considering Hikaru’s reckless (and violent) nature. Actually, Yusei isn’t fully aware of Hikaru’s full potential, but knowing his son, he made him promise to never hurt anyone with his powers, not even if they made him angry, not even if they hurt someone of his family, just never (but will Hikaru listen? probably not)
I prepared a sketch to give a hint about this topic (you’ll see as soon as I finish it lol), but I would honestly love to write it! I just wish I had more time to do both 3
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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years
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Crossing Bridges - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Tony | Prologue
For a few seconds, Tony is frozen still while Zachariah cries miserably. But then some instincts he hadn’t realised he even had kick in, and he wraps his arms around the distraught kid, holding him securely against his chest as he gets up, and starts pacing.
That’s what you do to calm down babies, he knows that much, and Zachariah’s—what? Four? Maybe five? Barely not a baby anymore, anyway. So Tony walks circles around his living area, stroking a hand up and down Zachariah’s back, and talking quietly.
He isn’t really sure what Zachariah might be interested in, just does what Jarvis used to do whenever Tony woke up with nightmares, and couldn’t go back to sleep; tells him about the Howlies. He can barely hear his voice over Zachariah’s wails, at first, but eventually, ever so slowly, Zachariah’s cries grow quieter, into occasional sniffles, and wet little hiccups.
When Tony’s finishing up the story about how Steve and Barnes got stuck in a tree in an Italian forest because of some angry boars, Zachariah’s smiling shyly, head resting against Tony’s shoulder. “You liked that, huh?” Tony asks, smiling back, and brushes some of the tears away from Zachariah’s flushed cheeks.
Zachariah nods, absently playing with the collar of Tony’s shirt. “Silly daddy,” he tuts through a yawn. Then, hopeful, he asks, “Bun Bun?”
That brings Tony up short. “Bun Bun?”
“I want Bun Bun,” Zachariah repeats, more insistent, before apparently remembering his manners, and adding, “Please?”
(More after the break!)
It takes Tony a moment, but then he remembers the bags out in the hall. Crouching with a little kid attached to his side turns out to be surprisingly difficult, never mind opening the gym bag, but Zachariah makes no move to let go of Tony, and Tony doesn’t want to risk upsetting him again. Barnes obviously knows his son’s priorities, though, because there, right on top, is a stuffed bunny.
Zachariah makes grabby hands at it the moment he spots it, and buries his face in its soft fur when Tony hands it over, mumbling contentedly. He’s obviously still tired—or exhausted from all the crying—and Tony considers trying to get him back to sleep, but it’s already close to half past eight. He probably shouldn’t let the kid sleep away the whole morning, at least not if he wants him to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour tonight.
Maybe they can both take a nap later. Tony’s certainly old enough that he appreciates every extra minute of sleep he can get, loath as he is to admit it.
He takes the bag and Zachariah’s backpack into one of the guest rooms, putting them on the bed for now, before heading to the kitchen. “How about breakfast? Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” Zachariah says, around the thumb in his mouth.
He looks reasonably calm now, though, so Tony leaves him to it. It’s probably not the best thing for his teeth, but the kid’s had one hell of a morning so far; he’s earned whatever comfort he or Tony can provide, Tony figures. And they’re going to be eating soon anyway.
“Okay,” Tony says, pulling open the fridge, and angling Zachariah so he can see what’s inside. “What’s it going to be, squirt?”
Zachariah considers his options, then points. “Bananas?”
“Good choice,” Tony agrees, pulling them out. “What else? Maybe some yoghurt?”
“No,” Zachariah says, wrinkling his nose. “Daddy makes pancakes on Sundays.”
Tony’s culinary skills are severely lacking, but pancakes he can do. Even if they never brown evenly, but he doubts Zachariah’s going to care too much. “With some chocolate chips? You like those?”
That makes Zachariah nod excitedly, giving Tony another small smile. It slips a little when Tony puts him on a chair at the table—he’s not going to handle a kid and a hot frying pan at the same time, even he knows that’s a disaster waiting to happen—so Tony quickly peels one of the bananas, and breaks off a piece for him. Then he goes and gets him a glass of juice, too, and one of his notebooks and some pens for good measure.
With Zachariah occupied for the moment, Tony makes a start on the pancakes. He’s got the batter ready quickly, and has the first batch in the pan when Zachariah asks, “Tony?”
“Yeah, kiddo,” Tony glances over his shoulder, “what’s up?”
“Are daddy an’ uncle Steve fighting bad guys?” Before Tony can come up with a child-friendly answer to that, Zachariah goes on with, “The bad guys who made me?”
Tony nearly drops his spatula. “Zachariah—”
“That’s only for when I’m being bad,” Zachariah says sternly. “When I’m being good you gotta call me Zach.”
“Zach,” Tony concedes. He turns down the heat on the stove, and turns around to face Zach, uselessly wiping his hands on his pants to buy himself some more time. He has no idea what, exactly, Barnes has told Zach about where he came from, but he must know the basics at least, if he’s aware that ‘the bad guys made him’, as he calls it. “Steve found a HYDRA base, yes, and your dad and Natasha went to help him take care of it.”
He’s so incredibly out of his depth, here, especially considering that Steve is MIA, and he has no idea what happened, what Barnes and Nat are walking into, and when—and in what condition—they’ll be back.
But Zach seems satisfied with that answer, at least for the moment. “That’s good,” he says, and picks up a pen, going back to whatever he was drawing before. “Daddy says they’re bad people, an’ he’s going to make them all go away so everyone’s safe.”
There’s no more heavy conversation while Tony finishes cooking, and then Zach’s too busy stuffing his face to talk at all. He has chocolate smeared around his mouth, and Tony would regret adding the whipped cream if Zach wasn’t looking so happy, grinning around his fork when Tony asks, “Good?”
Tony makes Zach carry his plate, glass, and cutlery over to the dishwasher once they’re done eating, then helps him put it all in there. “Good job,” he says when everything’s put away, and holds his hand out for a high-five. Zach slaps it, beaming, and then giggles when Tony pulls a face at his now sticky fingers. “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?”
Zach shrieks when Tony picks him up, wiggling and laughing when Tony slings him over his shoulder to carry him to the bathroom. He insists on washing his hands on his own, but lets Tony clean his face with a washcloth, even though he grimaces through it, clearly not impressed.
After that, with Zach fed and mostly chocolate-free again, Tony’s at a bit of a loss as to what to do. It’s Sunday, meaning he has the day off unless there’s an Avengers or SI emergency, but he has no idea what Zach’s schedule is usually like.
The in-tower daycare for all employees is open, but Zach looks at him like he’s crazy when Tony asks if he’s supposed to be there. “Not when it’s the weekend.”
“Right.” Tony rubs a hand over the back of his neck, sheepish. “What do you normally do on weekends?”
“Play with daddy,” Zach says, leaning against Tony’s leg, looking up at him. “Or uncle Steve. Sometimes we go to the park, or do other stuff.”
Well. That’s not especially helpful. “Anything specific you want to do today?”
Humming, Zach considers that. Then his face lights up, and he tugs at Tony’s shirt, bouncing up and down on his toes. “Swimming! In the big pool!”
Which is how Tony finds himself in the swimming area on the recreational floor half an hour later, kneeling in front of Zach, who’s sitting on a deck chair, vibrating with excitement while Tony blows up his floaties. As soon as they’re secured to his arms he hops off the chair, and takes off towards the kiddie pool, whining when Tony says, “Hey, hey,” and snags him around the waist.
“Careful, no running,” Tony warns, waiting until Zach actually looks at him, pouting a little, before adding, “The floor’s slippery. I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself, okay?”
“Okay,” Zach says impatiently, but he walks more slowly when Tony sets him back down.
Tony brings over the toys he’d found while looking for Zach’s swim shorts, sitting down on the edge of the shallow pool, feet in the water. Zach seems content to splash around, though, talking to himself as he fills and empties a small green bucket, over and over again. Tony has no idea what it is he’s playing, but he’s obviously having fun, which is the important thing.
Taking the opportunity while Zach’s doing his thing, Tony gets in some exercise of his own, swimming slow, unhurried laps, always keeping an eye on Zach to make sure he’s fine. He gets in maybe twenty minutes of swimming before Zach grows bored, toddling over to where Tony floats to the edge of the pool to meet him.
“Done already?”
“Wanna swim with you,” Zach mumbles, suddenly shy again. “In the big pool.”
Tony lets him jump in, even though the signs say not to, but it’s his pool, and there’s no one there to tell them not to. Zach is delighted, spluttering and grinning when he breaks the surface. He doggy paddles the few feet over to Tony, and wraps himself around Tony as best as he can, demanding Tony throw him.
They spend the better part of an hour in the pool, with Tony obligingly throwing Zach, and letting Zach chase him around, cackling madly whenever he manages to catch Tony. When Zach starts to flag, his head on Tony’s shoulder while Tony keeps them afloat, Tony decides it’s time to head back upstairs.
Zach fusses through his shower and getting dressed again, clearly tired, but perks up a little when Tony promises he can choose what they’ll have for lunch. Having learned from that morning, Tony talks Zach out of spaghetti and into penne with tomato sauce, which still make a mess, but, Tony tells himself, a smaller one than the spaghetti would’ve made.
After getting cleaned up yet again, Tony settles in on the loveseat in front of the TV, Zach in his lap, and nods seriously at Zach’s insistence that he doesn’t need a nap because he’s not sleepy at all. He says it while rubbing at his eyes and blinking slowly, and Tony has to bite back a smile.
He finds something suitable for a five-year-old, and pulls the blanket from the couch over them both, slowly rubbing Zach’s back. Zach is dead to the world five minutes into an episode of SpongeBob, and Tony’s not far behind.
Kids are exhausting.
- Potrix | AO3 
A/N: This story is going to have five chapters (including the prologue), and I’ll try to post them all consecutively over the next couple of days. I make no promises, though, but fingers crossed!
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kosmicdream · 7 years
Text
Temp. FFAK Official Timeline
This is a very rough, temp timeline for FFAK. It mostly covers events that have already happened or at least have been mentioned. I dont really cover anything that is happening in the present day timeline lol. I might make edits to this in case i fucked up in places or maybe ill just do a totally new one at some point! you dont even know how messy my actual one is like my god its an ever worse horrible clusterfuck of text. (Also remember, the ffak story has no time travel so dont be worried about that sort of mindfuckery!) enjoy
Years before 1414: Whenever was 600 million years ago i dont want to do the exact math: Evil Mother is born but shes not called that at all cuz she adopts that name later in life but just know she is here and readt to party Lots of stuff happens. like idk. evolution and life. 600 mil years is a long time ok -LALALA -HUMANS AT SOME POINT COME TO BEING.and form civilization and.. all that -modern human society exist! ppl have tvs and such. -Mandragora Worms have gone ‘extinct’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ooooo -??????????? a ton of other stuff. isnt history cool?? kicks legs, yells -mysterious worm break outs all over dmtia. bombs fall. wars. despair!  -Grant Lumberman gets a doggy at some point and loves it but then it dies and so does his family and friends and his whole city he is relocated to the Auseklis moon colony (on Dmtia’s moon!) along w/ other Vena Cavian kiddos !!!! (in yr 1414)
YEAR 1415 [Scene From Ch. 11: Pages 3161-3196, 3400-3401] Characters: Randall Aiguille - Age 20 Mr. Rotten (Which was named “Aeschylus” at the time, created by Randall) Crosshatch Unit (sort of) Rembrandt Aiguille - Age 22 Grant Lumberman (Aka, ‘Good Leadman’) - Age 14 Octavian “Otto" Silverberg - Age 15 (I was gonna type up every referenced scene like this then i was like fuck it thats too hard! lol)
Years 1416-1425 ?????????????? (most events likely will be mostly covered in a prequel series.) YEAR 1420: Crosshatch Unit first programmed/built by Randall/Rembrandt Aiguille leadman and evil mother fall in lurv at some point
YEAR 1426 Miracle Baby Crimson is Born (From Good Leadman/Evil Mother worm fuck action yeehaw)
YEAR 1427 -Crimson’s 2 eyes are removed + Evil Mother Believes they are dead and leaves Leadman to work with Tricend -Canary is Born (From Evil Mother, and a King Worm) -Hekatons are made (From The King worm that made Canary, concept of Hekatons is from Evil Mother) -July 8th: Perkons Hatches and will not let anyone near the other 4 eggs!! stay away
YEAR 1428 - Good Leadman (Age 27) and Perkons (6 months old) Meet (Happens in Jan) (Multiple scenes in ch10, continued in Ch11) Perkons turns 1 in July. -Perkons gets a hold of 1 of Crimson’s eyes at some point, turns it into a Knife.
YEAR 1429 - Perkons turns 2 in july and is a fully matured adult. Rest of the 4 hekatons eggs hatch sometime after in that year. -Dievas assumes protective guardian role for his siblings.  -Dievas meets Aeschylus. (ch11) YEAR 1430 Perkons turns 3. The rest of the first hekatons are one. During this year they mature to an adult. YEAR 1431 Lauma meets Velns, who is imprisoned. Then shortly after, Perkons confronts Lauma, she is 2, he is 4. So It took place after July 1431. He transforms the 2nd crimson eye into a Spoon in front of her.
Years 1431-1448 (specific dates not all disclosed sry): -Velns/Lauma, Dievas/Laima begin making children. baby baby baby! YEAR 1438 - Crimson (Age 11) is eaten by a Hydragora Queen worm - loosing her human body in the process but gaining a worm one instead. -Crimson runs around in a destroyed city, holding a corpse. Meets Velns who taunts them. -Lauma and Dievas make up, and have their first nest together- a Batch of A/B hybrid eggs. -Lauma is killed by Perkons -Velns is killed by Perkons (Which was also on Dmtia’s Moon, so the moon is destroyed.) -Laima is “killed” by Perkons. (Actually survived, as part of Dievas’ plan.) -Perkons confronts Dievas with the Crosshatch Unit and mention they fight for Peace and under the “Thumb” alliance. Perkons kills Dievas. (scene in ch11) -Laima escapes with A/B Eggs, as well as other hekaton eggs. (and will later form the Ghost Kingdom, which she rules as queen.) ????? many other things happen????? these were some busy years folks
YEAR 1449 -Crimson meets a Helper, Galore the Hekaton, and a Bunny worm (who will later grow up to be agent Paper) in the forests of DMTIA (Ch9) -Galore “meets" her first parents, Lauma and Velns, in some mysterious coma dream thing from listening to crims sexy magical heartbeat (also Ch9) ??????????more events happen??????????? -Galore “Dies” by exploding. Crimson witnesses it. -Bunny wormed named Cirrus “Dies” and is buried in a grave. However, she was only injured she later climbs out only to witness Crimson and Celadon leave in Crimson’s truck and it was the saddest thing ive had to draw ok. i am crying even remembering it ??????????more secret events this was yet another busy and traumatizing year for crimson????????????? -Months later, Crimson (age 23) has a conversation with her third mandragora heart, and ends up having a period sex masterbate-y fantasy that made many readers scream in terror when they read it.(Ch11)
Years 1450-1904 god so much stuff happens during this time, lays on the ground. i mean just fucking look at how much time that is. thats over 450 years lol nbd right
YEAR 1905 -Agent Knife is sent on a remote mission (back to Planet Dmtia) to hunt down one of thumbs most wanted criminals, a man named “SIMON MCGOLD” -After months of searching/failed attempts at locating him, Knife confronts and is stung by Simon’s close personal bodyguard, a queen worm named Nail who is famous for killing over 50,000 Hekatons. (Gaining him the nickname “Hekaton Hunter.” (CH12) -?????????? more stuff happens like you dont even know????????
Years 1906-1924 ??????????? lots of stuff??????? lets laugh at some spoon stuff together tho -Spoon thinks Knife is stupid but weirdly interesting i guess -Spoon tries to pretend hes not in love w/ knife cuz thats like??? g...ay??? -Spoon realizes he’s totally hot for Knife and decides hes gonna totally seduce him -Spoon realizes flirting isnt going well with knife and is actually rly deeply hurt by rejection and so he tries to sleep around w/ other ppl  to pretend hes fine cuz w/e!! who cares -Spoon realizes hes totally in love w/ Knife and is devastated by Deeply Gay emotions -Spoon moves in w/ Knife and spoon tries to pretend he is fine w/ just being Knife’s obsessively devotedly loyal but not romantic/sexual partner. just ttly... platonic.. best dude pals..!!! who murder together -Spoon realizes he cannot handle just being friends and attempts to move out cuz he just is having a meltdown -Knifes like chill we’re already dating and Spoon is like “wtf we are?” and knife’s like “why else would i let you move in w/ me” and spoon just stares at a wall for like 12 hrs in shock -They start to officially for real date™ after spoon regains contact with reality -???????stuff??????? -Spoon dresses up as AGENT BEE!!!!!!!!!!!! THE MOST IMPORTANT EVENT IN ALL OF HISTORY HANDS DOWN MARK UR CALENDARS 
YEAR 1925 July 8th - Simon (now Agent Spoon) has been in a relationship with Knife for 20 years. He meets Celadon #1. Location is the forests on the moon THUMB HQ. who is rightfully pissed as fuck at him. kick his ass, girl (she does btw) (ch11)
YEAR 1926 -Knife Adopts a tiny perfect adorable fluffball c-type and names him Kurt. -Spoon hates it like more than anything ever -Spoon and Knife end up having to live separately, causing a huge strain in their relationship.
Years 1927-1936 -feeling neglected, Spoon starts to sleep around, including the Crosshatch unit and becomes p close friends w/ them! its actually a positive thing for once. wtf (ch11) -Kurt becomes Agent Fork and works alongside Agent Knife on missions and its adorable and great but knife’s depression is also growing bc he misses spoon
YEAR 1937 Cash Leadman is born! :D
YEAR 1938 Rome Aiguille is born! he doesnt even hate worms at this point! Years 1939-1955 more stuff. ect. 
YEAR 1956 -Locket confronts Knife. Knife is so traumatized from meeting a surprise biological child that he has a meltdown and vanishes. he is then believed to have died. -Spoon Explodes from sadness of the news, but does not die. Half of him leaves to Cash Leadman’s house, who convinces him to keep living. He becomes “Scissor”, using her former crosshatch robot body. (ch11) -The other half meets Locket and has his Spoon stolen from him. very sads. Also cant wear thongs anymore (ch11)
YEAR 1957 -At some point during this year, Spoon kills Agent Rock’s dad and also prevents Fork from being able to enter Wibbleworld (his dream). (Scene in ch8) -Fork goes back to prison (guess what, it wasnt his first time goin’ there!) 
YEAR 1958-present -the death of rock’s hot dad springs a chain reaction of all his sons trying to kill spoon and getting revenge. Spoon successfully kills them all though lmfao. dont fuck with the leg.  -fork breaks up with dollop and she starts stalking him
YEAR 1961 -Dylan and Agent Knife meet in Wibbleworld moon, on July 8th (his birthday) He reveals secrets to her. (ch11) -Dylan/Celadon and Antony believe they are successful at killing Agent Knife on this same day.
YEAR 1962 -Feb 2 - Aeschylus wakes up in LEVEL K of the Crosshatch Colony (The Aiguille Moon) and is escorted by Antony Aiguille (Age 21) and Celadon #1, #2 and #3. Dylan and Barfy show up. (Ch 11) -Dylan tries to convince Antony not to get eaten (and fails) (ch12) -March - A mysterious earthquake and worm outbreak kills 20,000 residents in the Crosshatch Colony. O_O  -July 7th - Fork meets Dylan for the first time. :3 (Another serving episode one!) -July 8th: This is where the present timeline begins! Canary wakes up on a platform. Hooray! we made it. i dont feel like typing out the events u can just read the comic i guess lol. farts! 
YEAR 1963: Hasnt actually happened yet, but the final feast is said to occur this year!!!!!!! O_O ooo  EDIT: one of the events were out of order, but this has been fixed (8/19/2017) 
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visanimus · 7 years
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Hi! Not the same anon but can you please do a angsty Max x Sensitive!Shy!Reader oneshot? Where Max and the reader was talking to each other and Max says something rude to the reader but he later apologizes?
Idk if I can get the angsty fluff you want but I'ma try and see what happens.
Edit: Fuck it got sad and less Max than what was intended.
~
| Max
Being friends with Max wasn’t an easy thing for you. You didn’t have as thick of a skin as he did since were a bit more sensitive than he was, but that didn’t mean you would not attempt a friendship possiblity with him. Max was difficult, but that was because of his home life - you theorize but would never bring it up after the whole sweater in the mail incident.
Mornings would usually start by eating breakfast with Nikki, Niel and Max before delving into any plans that would be executed that day. Usually it would be some kind of random adventure created by random chance from the campers or by the counselors.
One way or another, you ended up sitting next to Max at the pier. It was a normal thing when Nikki was caught up with nature and Niel ditched you guys to hang out in the science stand behind the camp cafeteria. This was normal and it was usually silent between the both of you as you both got lost in your thoughts and keep conversation to a minimum.
Except today would be different. Honestly, you can’t remember how the conversation segued onto this topic: parents.
“They don’t care about us at all _____. Why is that so hard for you to understand?!” Max’s tone was exasperated as it rose in volume. He threw his hands up in the air to highlight his exaggeration. “Even Nikki knows this, but why don’t you.” He wanted to know how you could live in such denial when the evidence was right around you.
Biting your lip and wiping your hands on your jeans you tried your best to defend against his words, “M..my parents sent me a card about…how much they missed me…“ You muttered as your fingers started to play with the ends of your camp camp shirt.
Giggles started to leave Max before he could stop them. You stared at him with a vague look of confusion. “If they were going to miss you that much, they would’ve sent something more than a card. That’s like saying they couldn’t bother with anything more than a piece of paper. They might as well say that don’t care about you at all.“ He huffed before continuing how tirade, “Why would they bother sending you anything at all if they were going to miss you? It’s probably because they suddenly remembered that they have a kid and have to fill out an obligation-”
Max didn’t notice you get up and silently walk away. He didn’t notice your breathing had hitched and that you tried so hard to calm down the saddness and anger in your heart. Wiping the tears that welled up in your eyes and keeping your head down you made your way to your tent. You didn’t want anyone to see or hear you.
You wanted to disappear.
Why did you think that you could ever be friends with a kid who more than likely projected himself and his own past than actually analyzing you and your family. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt you to the point where your breathe was caught in your throat - almost suffocating.
The uneven breathes escaping from your lips in broken, hushed sobs was very hard to contain and by now someone would notice it, but you couldn’t let anyone see you like this or draw attention by running to your tent now. You had to endure this feeling of wanting to become a ghost, to transcend into another plane, and become a background piece to avoid this feeling. You desired to float away from this situation and sink into space.
By some miracle you stumbled onto the cot, back on the uncomfortable military style fabrics, and allowed the tears to trail down your face. Your sadness filling up the water to a point before racing down a familiar path that was known to all who weren’t afraid to express their emotions.
A hollow expression painted your face, but couldn’t touch the depth hidden in your irises. Carved out by all that you’ve seen, but haunted by the sounds that accompany these images you would not forget. Your consciousness swam in the dark waters of your eyes, trying to crawl out, but kept getting caught by what was hidden in within to drag you back.
‘What if he was right?’ you thought something after the tears stung your eyes a puffy red. His words creating doubts that swirled about in your mind. What if that asshole was right about your family? Why else would they send you here to begin with? Did they not love you? Is this why they sent you to this shitty camp? Why didn’t they want you with this?
Max’s words stung like a poison that circulated your system. Infecting all that it touched and leaving nothing to spare.
That day you stayed in your bed.
That evening you didn’t leave to eat.
That night you didn’t sleep.
This cycle continued for almost a week.
Nikki was the only one who brought you drinks and pudding that she snuck out from the cafeteria in her pockets. Nikki did all she could for you, but she didn’t know what else she could do to make you feel better. She sat at the foot of your cot, taking as little room as possible, or the floor, just to keep your company.
She felt your sadness curl around her, but not suffocatingly so. She didn’t know the extent of your grief from the venom that Max spewed from his mouth that day. Nikki prodded, but after being met with silence every single time she understood that she wouldn’t get an answer until you were ready.
And so she waited by your side. For that entire week. Only time she would leave would be for food, you and her, bathroom, or to cover for the both of you away from the questions of the other campers and the camp counselors. But she knew that they would stop believing her and forcibly find the answer themselves.
David forced himself into the rent after Nikki tried slowing him down by grabbing onto his ankles and biting him. She almost got kicked off into a tree, but held on for dear life because she knew you weren’t ready for anyone to invade your space. She failed and her heart dropped when she saw you act so despondent to David’s sweet questions and gestures to coax an answer out of you.
”______, can you tell me what’s upset you so much? Is there anything I can do for you?“ He leaned in a bit closer to bring your blanket closer to your neck so you don’t get cold. ”____ you know you can talk to me about anything. I am your camp counselor and I’m always here to lend an ear. So could you please tell me what’s wrong kiddo?“ A uneasy smile shaped his face as he eyes showed uncertainty of how to handle this situation.
Still, there was no answer from you other than the flutter of your eye lashes before your eyes closed. A batch of fresh tears falling down your face from the sting of pain. Max’s callous words echoing in your mind as his face burned behind your eyes.
“David…. Do my parents even love me?”
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devilsnwitches · 5 years
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SSDD - Ch1 All Hands on Deck
AO3 <Link - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings
Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Violence & Behavior
Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie
Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE IT’S V PROLOGUE - Pairing V/OFC
If there was one thing Vergil was thankful for, it was that even when he was severely poisoned he could not only feel the presence of the Yamato but also his son. He was also thankful they were in the same place, making it so much easier to focus. Wrapped up in his cloak, shivering even when he was dripping sweat from excursion and fever, he picked his head up when he heard the voice of a sweet girl.
“Hey you two! Dinner’s ready!”
Vergil’s brows pinched together. Was that Kyrie? It echoed from the garage up ahead, the door halfway open. He’d be able to duck under it. That was where the source of the energies was, too.
He wasn’t one to swear, not like Dante or even Nero, but fuck his whole body was shooting white-hot pain all over every step he took...Goddamn Stolas’ for sicking his poisonous plants on him, going after him from behind...All because of Abaddon...
“You, uh...you need somethin’?”
When had he gotten across the road?
“What...hungry? Heh...in luck...food’s ready and Kyrie...too much.” As his vision doubled, most of the sentence was distorted. The sound of clanking reached his ears. That was definitely his son’s voice, and that had been Kyrie after all. Nero had said her name so sweetly...had their relationship developed further? How long...had he been away?
Vergil slipped under the garage door and slowly stepped closer, breathing heavy. His mind was wavering...Focus! He needed to tell Nero...he needed to admit he...needed help.
“Hope...loud talkers...a pair of those...” Nero had stood up and paused whatever he was saying, but now he was closer Vergil heard him more clearly, “...see somethin’ ya like?”
A blue glow alerted Vergil, feeling the energy of the Yamato spike. When had his son’s arm become demonic?
“You a demon?” Nero growled, obviously on edge now.
That wasn’t what he wanted and he lifted his hand, skin showing grey and veins black in the light. Suddenly desperate he worked his throat and rocked on his heels as he lost his balance, “Nero…”
“Nero! The food’s getting cold! What’s-” Kyrie was immediately cut off.
“Call Dante!” Nero shouted as he swung himself forward. The voice sounded...but it couldn’t. When the robe fell from his face, Nero’s eyes widened and then narrowed. His father looked as though he had aged terribly. The black veins were sucking the very life out of him, and it looked like it was slow acting. Nero knew not a thing about poisons. He only knew how to point and shoot. Kyrie might have something in the home to help slow it down further, but an actual antidote would have to come from Dante, if the demon hunter even knew what the poison was. If this could be cured. “Hey. Father.” His skin was flecking at his very touch, as though he were crumbling to dust.
He slowly pulled the robe back on, trying not to let it rub too much on his father’s skin and hoisted him up. “We’re going to get you upstairs.” He told him seriously. “Kyrie’s calling Dante, I’m sure and we’ll get you better.” As better as they possibly could. “Alright? You gotta stay with me ol’ man. That’s your job right now. You got that? Stay with me.”
His voice needed to work goddamn it but all he got for a second was a chest-rattling grunt to show he was listening. Any other circumstance he would consider this humiliating, and every jostle, as accidental as it was, hurt like a bitch. When he was finally set down on a bed - at least it wasn’t a couch - he reached and grabbed Nero’s arm, choking out, “Yamato...the...power will...” he hissed as his whole body shuddered in a shiver yet a bead of sweat went down his temple, “Slow..it...down...” he finished, feeling incredibly weak and he hated it.
Slow it down? Nero looked at his arm where the Yamato was sealed away. Dante was going to fry him. The Yamato would practically call out every demon from their hiding spots, but what choice did he have? He reached into his palm and pulled the sword out, “What do I do?”
Instead of wasting breath, Vergil took it from him and promptly pressed it to his chest where it pulsed with energy. It felt good to have his sword back in his hands, and it when he was able to finally suck air through his teeth and into his lungs instead of fighting for every breath, he relaxed into the bed. Eyes fluttering back open, they were a lot clearer now. Everything still hurt, the poison was still creeping, but he didn’t look or feel like he was going to die in the next heartbeat. “In answer to...your question,” he swallowed hard, throat dry, “Check with...Kyrie. The poison is...from Stolas’ plants. Another demon.” Not being able to articulate his words properly irked him to Hell and back. At least he got his point across.
Nero got up onto his feet. “I got it.” He told him as he walked out of the room. The girls were around the kitchen table looking grim.
“What was that about?” Nico asked clicking her tongue and folding her arms.
“Poison from Stolas.” Nero looked over at Kyrie who was holding the phone. “If that’s still Dante tell him that. I bet he had a few ideas.”
“Do you know who Stolas is?” Kyrie asked the seasoned hunter on the other end, her hand pressed over her heart in worry, “Nero learned that’s where the poison’s from.” Noticing he was holding his arm and it wasn’t as bright, she tilted her head, silently asking if he was alright.
Nero nodded and gave Kyrie a trade-mark smile but he listened for Dante’s reply.
“Looks like I gotta call Lysander. Now to hope that one of them picks up the phone. I’ll be there shortly afterward. Not sure if it’ll help, but holy water might ease it a twinge. He’ll be in a hell of a lot of pain but it’s better that than to bite his tongue and die.” Dante sighed on the other end before hanging up.
“Holy water until help arrives. Do we have any?” she looked at Nico who tended to keep stock of their supplies, then to Nero, “Somebody named Lysander’s going to hopefully be here.”
Nico shrugged, “I might have some but you might wanna make another batch Kyrie just in case. I’ll go down to my van. Be back in a sinch.”
X
“Yo! Sis!” the younger Lysander sister shouted to the void that was her apartment with Charlotte, “The world must be ending, Dante’s called! Asking about plants. That’s your shtick.”
Charlotte blinked from reading. Quietly the older sister closed her book and dig into the mess of papers where her own cellphone was. Three missed calls. All from Dante. Oops. “What about plants?!”
Yvette came from the hallway, phone to her chest so she could talk without getting mixed signals, “Some douchebag demon named Stolas?”
“Ugh. Where?” Charlotte asked as she got up from her desk and went over to her closet. Better drag out the big guns. She reached up and pulled a large oak case that jiggled and clinked ominously. “We’re gonna have to go fast meaning you drive Vet.”
Pale green eyes lit up and she put the phone back to her ear, “Text me the address, would you? On our way now.” If she had the address then that’d make it easier for Charlotte to input it into her GPS and give her directions. Honestly, she was giddy with the thought of getting out of the house and driving. Sure it was dire circumstances, but meeting new people was always fun, and if it was Dante asking for help then part of her knew they were a few steps shy of having a hunt.
“Sure thing,” Dante said, “Tell your sister she’s shit at having a phone.” It was a nice little jab. “See you.”
Not even five seconds went by before Yvette’s phone dinged with a text for the address. Charlotte hauled the big case up and over her shoulder. The rattling increased tenfold. “Following you out the door kiddo.”
X
Honestly, falling asleep was a horrible idea. Vergil was lucky as hell to even open his eyes again. All he remembered last was little concerned Kyrie -my how she’d grown- soothing him while Nero not only made him drink a shot of holy water but apply it to some of the wounds from his skin flaking.
What brought him to consciousness he wasn’t quite sure. All of a sudden he felt Dante’s energy, and drawing near was the presence of what he could only guess was a witch. A rattling noise echoed in the hallway before the door was eased open. Reflexively he gripped his sword, but the sight before him threw his guard off. Straight strands of brown hair spilled over the woman’s shoulders, and as she turned on the light to see what she was doing he was sucked into deep green eyes that reminded him of staring into a forest.
Heaven and Hell combined, he must be really off his game, poison be damned.
Charlotte didn’t miss how he reached for his sword. A part of her wanted to be cheeky about how that sword wouldn’t do much against her and he was delusional, but she kept her mouth closed. This poor man was going through hell. She placed the big case on the ground and kicked it open. It unfolded itself to show so many different kinds of vials in many different colors.
She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slowly telegraphing her moves to pick up his arm and looked at the black veins. “Holy water?” She mused. “Fast thinking.” She looked up at the man who was on the bed.
“Can he be saved?” Dante asked, folding his arms against his chest.
“He can be,” Charlotte said soothingly and turned to Vergil. “Stolas did this? It’s a new kind of poison. Taking demonic energy and transforming it into literal poison.” She turned away and started to sift through the vials. She hummed a tune softly under her breath.
Such a lovely sound...Vergil closed his eyes briefly before he shifted, “Dante, Stolas got me...in the back. Starting at...the source...might help.” Which of course meant he had to take off his cloak, jacket, vest, and possibly his shirt. “Normally wounds...heal closed. This one...did not.” Which of course meant it had been festering.
Dante walked around the bed and helped Vergil turn around once they got him out of the complicated outfit. The odor was terrible and Charlotte clicked her teeth.
“What the fuck, dad.” Nero hissed when he saw the damage that was on his father’s back. He hadn’t wanted to leave his side, but holy…
“Stolas didn’t really know the safe word here.” Dante grimaced.
“Lets…” Charlotte started to pull her hair back into a makeshift bun. “Yvette I need gauze and warm wet towels.” She lowered herself so Vergil could hear her. “How steady is your grip? I can give it to you orally and you take it yourself or I find a different method.”
“Either holding the Yamato...in a death grip...or not at all,” Vergil admitted with a sigh, feeling even colder than before but at least the cool air on the back of his neck where he was drenched in sweat was relieving. He heard the creaking of the door as this ‘Yvette’ left the room to get what was asked of her. “What other methods?”
“One method is that I administer it through a kiss, another is that I open that wound of yours and try to see if I can’t get it to take through the bloodstream. I can even have you sit up and I pour it down your throat if you’d prefer.” Charlotte listed.
“Won’t even consider taking you out to dinner Verg.” Dante teased, though the worried edge on his voice betrayed his feelings.
Nero rolled his eyes. He’s been there. He’s done that. “I’m going to help Yvette find the towels. It’s crowded in here.” He knew his father didn’t want to display too many weaknesses to too many people. At least the Lysander woman was trying her best.
“I was thinking...the same thing,” Vergil nodded to Nero in appreciation and he released a long breath when his son was out of the room, leaving the three of them. Even the Yamato pulsed a little bit when he thought about her kissing him and he shook his head in spite of the ache, “Sit up...pour it.” Lifting his hand to his brother he grit his teeth when Dante grasped his wrist and hauled him up, his body lurching to the side only to be caught by the woman. Her touch set him on edge, but not out of distaste. “My shirt. I’ll bite it.” Whatever it was she gave him to cure the poison was going to make him scream.
“I can knock yo-Okay then.” Dante had to admit it was nice that Charlotte didn’t even try to persuade Vergil to do the other thing. She uncapped the vial. “Brave man.” She set the cap to the side and she scooted a little closer to Vergil. She knew this was going to hurt. He was going to drink it, it was going to taste vile, he was going to hate it and when it was also poured on his wounds with the towel and gauze he was either going to pass out or scream loudly enough to wake up the neighborhood. That shirt of his was going to get torn, undoubtedly. She swirled the vial three times in either direction and looked at Vergil squarely. Like two warriors on opposite sides of a battle. “You can swear at me, I know I’m the bitch in this scenario.” Without further ado, she helped him drink it.
Vergil expected the taste and covered his mouth as he tried not to cough and spit it out, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the bile and the liquid. In the nothing that followed he grabbed his shirt, twisted it and when the first pangs of something made him double over he shoved the cloth in his mouth in time to feel burning.
Yvette returned with the items Char asked for in time to see Vergil slam his body back onto the bed which creaked ominously at the abuse. Screaming into the wad of his shirt while his hands gripped the edges. Yup. That shirt would be pieces by the end of this. “Lotty,” she whispered to get her sister’s attention, holding up the wraps and towels, “Anything else you need help with? Holding him down when you wrap him?”
Charlotte looked at Vergil who was panting, Dante was gripping his brother tightly and they both looked at each other before Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She said after a moment. “I think once we get this done, we can take watch. Make sure it doesn’t get worse or continue to spread.”
“Sounds like a plan, how long does it take?” Dante asked, carefully loosening his grip on his brother so that he could reposition himself. Charlotte carefully took the things from Yvette.
“Twenty four hours, if not a little less since he’s half-demon.” Charlotte determined. “The wound on the back is what I’m worried about most. It’s been infected and reinfected. Actually, Yvette, shove my case a little closer to the bed.”
Huffing mostly at the weight of it, Yvette did as she was told and cocked her head when Vergil screamed again, back arching and if it wasn’t for Dante she’d fear he’d snap his back in two, “I’ll get you another cloth for his forehead, a basin while I’m at it. He’s drenched.”
“You sound like a peach,” Charlotte said as she shifted through the vials a little quicker this time before picking one up. She unrolled the gauze and started to drip some onto cloth and leaned in uncomfortably close to get the wrapping around. “At least,” Charlotte said dryly, “I’m wearing a bra for this.”
Dante appreciated the humor. She was as much in an uncomfortable position as his brother and he was grateful that Charlotte knew how to work swiftly as she did carefully. His brother still writhed in pain and agony, but he still kept a firm grip so he wouldn’t ruin more of her handiwork. “This is going to take all night.” He sighed.
“I’d much rather he scream and punch than to go still and iced,” Charlotte said bluntly. “Yvette can hold him down as well as you can, but I’m pretty sure I’m pushing limits as I am.”
“You know his pride.” Dante huffed a laugh. “I didn’t realize that was infamous.”
“I have my own honor code I abide by. It drives Vet up the wall. Ask her. One time she legit threatened to shoot me over it I kid you not.”
“Oooh boy, you’re his type.” The younger twin snorted, but then had to double his grip again at another wave. “I’m a little worried about putting him on his back or even on his stomach.” He admitted. “I don’t feel like he can handle that.”
Charlotte didn’t blame him for that line of thinking. But Dante couldn’t hold him all night long and while Yvette did offer to help, Charlotte wasn’t sure if it’d make things better or not. “We have to. We’re better off keeping him from rolling off the bed than we are to restrain him. That’s wasted energy and effort.”
“Logical and precise.” Dante let out a breath. “Okay then.”
They helped each other to get Vergil to lay down, but the moment that they got him back onto his stomach, it was a hell storm. It was agony for touch, for the skin to be pulled and soon enough that antidote would stop burning and it would be numbed, hopefully drugged. Hopefully. His back needed to heal, and him writhing around wasn’t helping. She didn’t doubt that after the first hour, she’d have to change them again.
“I’ll tell Nero we’re taking watch shifts and let Vet know that too. If you’re hungry, I’m sure Kyrie can heat up whatever dinner they were having.” Dante offered as he slowly got himself untangled from Vergil’s grip and body. “She feeds an army and then some, it’s no hassle.”
Charlotte sighed, “Sure. I can’t work on an empty stomach and if there’s room to share, I’ll take it.”
“Awesome. Keep an eye out, you get first watch,” Dante patted Charlotte’s shoulder before heading down the stairs to let the group know what was going on.
“Should’ve let ‘im punch me,” was the barely audible whisper when he was well out of earshot, voice too hoarse and literally cotton-mouthed after his tattered shirt was gone.
Charlotte looked down at Vergil. “At this point in time, I don’t think you’d even know what a punch feels like.”
All he did was hum and Yvette came back in with the cloth and basin she promised a while ago, “Dante told us. I’ll bring your food up when it’s ready, yeah?”
“Sure.” Charlotte looked over at Yvette, “By the dresser thanks.” She let out a low sigh as she started to make herself comfortable on the side of the bed. “I’m good here.” She assured her sister.
“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” Yvette gave her a sly wolfish smile and easily danced away when a pillow was thrown at her, ‘kekeke’ing and tossed it back before leaving her alone with Vergil until she brought food.
“Should’ve shot her, but I don’t know if that’s worth a bullet or my sanity,” Charlotte muttered darkly as she pushed the pillow against her stomach, glaring heatedly at the door. She waited for a moment, in case her sister decided to come back. When it was clear, she set the pillow to the side and went to the basin. The water was lukewarm, which was nice. She dipped the cloth in, and wringing it out before going back to Vergil and gently swiping it across the back of his neck and his forehead, humming soft.
Sleep had nearly claimed him before he felt her gentle touches and picked up on her sweet humming. It was the same tune from before and something he didn’t cater to often, curiosity, nagged at him. Perhaps later he could ask. Instead of releasing another little hum to answer hers, Vergil heard a different noise. With his body so numb, it took a second to realize it was coming from deep, deep in his chest. Not quite human, either. If he had any strength left to care, he would be embarrassed as hell his demon was purring and trilling.
Charlotte heard it. She heard it and it made her pleased. She didn’t know much about hybrids, let alone half-demons. Yet she knew that the demons had their own little purrs and noises that they made. Animalistic as they were, they were sometimes more human than humans. To know that hybrids and half-demons could do the same thing as a regular demon, well...that was going to be her secret to keep. She hummed in tune with the purring and trilling as she wiped away the sweat, and cooled his body down. She didn’t stop humming when she put the cloth back into the basin and went back to settle on the side of the bed. She certainly didn’t stop humming until he was nice and knocked out.
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