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#and LITERALLY out of nowhere he rocks forward with a sneeze
mandakatt · 2 years
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Kitty Cursed - Part 6 Cat-harsis - Cor Leonis
A/N: Another one of those things that took me forever to get done, and yet, surprisingly was easy for me to finish once I got started. XD
Also, I had someone mention to me that sometimes pet names can make them uncomfortable when they read reader insert fics, it was mentioned that sometimes the gender specific nicknames (Princess as an example) can be kinda triggering, or pull you out of the story when they're labeled as Gender Neutral - so from now on I will put a mention of the pet name used under warnings. =3 Again, each of the boys from FFXV will have their own part. I'll put the link to the others below.
Characters: Cor Leonis x Reader [Gender Neutral] Warnings: Pet name used: Sweetheart Word Count: 1046 Summary: You’ve been inflicted with a strange status ailment that has turned you into a cat. Immediately you seek out your soulmate to help you out with your little predicament, but you forgot one, small....TINY little detail. He’s allergic to cats!
[ Dino | Prompto | Gladio | Ignis | Noctis ]
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“...you alright?” 
Hearing Cor groan softly said volumes about what the two of you had just gone through. 
Then again, he could be making such a noise because of the way you tackled him when a daemon appeared out of nowhere from behind you both. It was foolish to put yourself in harm's way for the Marshal, you knew that, but you were positive in the back of your mind that it was going to be worth the scolding later.
However, you hadn’t expected that attack to cause this sort of a situation.
“Hey,” Cor called again, a slight urgency in his voice. “Answer me?”
Well, you honestly wanted to, but you knew that it was best that you didn’t.
Not right now anyway. 
At least, not with the status effect you were suffering from. 
“Sweetheart? Where are you?!”
Lowering your head you sighed deeply through your nose, tail flicking gently behind you. It caused an odd twist in your gut to hear his voice crack like that. It wasn’t often that he showed emotion, but to hear him call for you like that…
You mewled softly to him in return, and slowly padded around the rock you’d been hiding behind. 
“...Sweetheart?” 
To say that you were amused by the confused expression on his face was an understatement as you sat down on your rump and gently wrapped your tail about your paws as you huffed softly up at him. 
He watched you with wide eyes for a moment before he took just a half step back from you, and that got your ears to perk forward in surprise. 
“Hmn, I’ve never seen this as a status ailment before.”
Honestly, neither had you in all the times you’d gone off hunting daemons. 
But you supposed there was a first time for—
“HEECKSHEW!”
Cor’s head snapped to the side as he brought his hand up to gently place it over his mouth and nose, then groaned as he tried to stifle a sniffle. 
Oh six! I forgot!
With a loud mrrp like noise you scrambled to your feet, your tail held high for a moment before you found the direction of the wind and literally; and probably comically, skittered down wind. You huffed at yourself for forgetting something so important. 
He was allergic to cats!
“What are you— sniffle —oh. Hm, it’s too late for that Sweetheart. Th-thaan—hm,” Cor then sniffled again, and sort of wiggled his nose as he brought his hand down from his face. “Now I think you understand whyyy—HEEECKSHEW! Ugh—why I said we couldn’t adopt the cat you found in Lestallum.” 
Huffing at yourself again you lowered your head, feeling guilty.
“You didn’t know I suffered thi-thiiiiis— sniffle— this badly. It’s not your faauu…” he paused, his eyes slowly closing halfway before he turned his head to sneeze loudly again. “Guh, your fault.” 
Still. 
This was something you should have remembered. Some partner you were. 
How could you forget something so important?!
“Sweetheart…” 
Your head snapped up when you realized how close he was, and you mewled loudly in surprise, then in complaint when he picked you up. 
What are you doing?! You’ll make it worse!
“Easy…” he practically purred to you as you squirmed in his arms, not realizing that you’d accidentally scratched his hands in your flailing to get away, and they were now covered in large, pink welts. You mewled in complaint again as he gently petted you and held you gently against his chest. “I’ve got you.” 
Got me?! You foolish man put me down!
Cor chuckled at you, sniffled then moved to pick your clothing and weapons up off the ground. “Don’t worry. It’s not so terrible that I can’t carry you ba-baaack to— sniffle, snort— ugh, back to the haven. I’ve got allergy—” 
It was the pause that made you look up at him, and you burbled softly in concern at the very odd look on his face.
“Hm…” he then moved you enough so that he could tuck you into his coat, buttoning it up to keep you safe against his chest as he gently placed an arm under you to support you. 
And yet…he didn’t move…
It was as if he was frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.
You mewled up at him, turning to look only to go wide eyed as his eyes were watering and slightly swollen shut. 
“Don’t…don’t— sniffle— move…” 
That slightly growled warning got you to freeze in place.
What was wrong? Did the daemon that had ambushed you both come back? If so, how was he going to fight the damned thing with you held against his chest?!
“Ah six—HEEEEECKKSHEW!” 
He’d wrapped both arms around you then as his entire form almost bent in half with his sneeze, and you couldn't help but mew softly in surprise. 
“...right, let's get back to the ha-haven. That way I can take those allergy pills I have t-tuu-tucked into my first aid k-iiiii—HEEECKSHEW—ugh. First aid kit.” and he simply turned in the direction of the haven to do just that.
You growled up at him, then huffed when he still had you tucked into his coat. 
“It’s fine,” he rumbled softly as he glanced down at you for a moment, then sniffled again. “Just…I thought the worst for a m-mmm—” he turned his head to sneeze yet again, then growled a little. “—I thought the worst for a moment. I was afraid that you’d been seriously hurt. I just..” When his words trailed off you realized that you were purring, probably because his fingers were gently petting you through his coat, but you hoped that sound might comfort him a little. 
“...you know that no matter what, I’m here for you, right?”
Yes. I know. 
You purred louder up at him, your eyes closing just a little as you nuzzled your head lightly against his chest.
“Good,” Cor sniffled again with a huff, then wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Now then, let’s get—HECKSHEW! HEEECKSHEW! HEEEEEEECKSHEW!” he stumbled a little, sniffled then growled again. 
If you could have laughed a little at the annoyed expression on his face, you would have. 
“Right. Haven. Allergy pills. Then I’ll call Ignis…and see if he’s— sniffle— run into this status ailment with the others.”
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ccherrybloom · 3 years
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the-delta-42 · 3 years
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My Brother
My Brother
Following a premise that was sent to @nerdasaurus1200
This fic will be a slight AU of The War Cricle, but will feature the same characters.
Marinette tried to keep the fact she had a brother as quiet as possible, but that is becoming increasingly difficult because a. he’s the technician at the College and b. he’s having ‘relations’ with Ms. Bustier. And then today he had to go and ruin their cover. Now granted, it was technically her fault.
“Marinette, you forgot your lunch.” Said Michael as he popped into the classroom and handed Marinette her lunch bag.
“Thanks.” Said Marinette, gritting her teeth.
“Have a good day, little one. Caline, I’ll see you tonight.” Said Michael, as he walked out of the room.
A moment of silence passed, and then Marinette was bombarded with questions. One thing she knew for sure- she was going to kill him.
Caline looked up from her computer as Michael left the room. True to form, Marinette looked composed, except the look of murder that lived in her eyes. Caline decided that the ‘Lila Rossi take down’ file could wait for a few minutes, as the class bombarded Marinette with questions.
“Alright everyone, calm down. Yes, Michael is Marinette’s older brother. He and I are in a committed relationship. Unless Marinette wishes to say more on the matter, that is all you have to know. Now, back to your seats and continue reading in your textbook.” Instructed Ms. Bustier, going back to her computer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marinette giving her a silent ‘thank you’.
“HOW could you not tell us you had a brother?!” Asked Alya, openly gaping at Marinette.
“Hmm, let’s see, would you want people to know if your brother was going out with your teacher?” Was Marinette’s snarky response.
“Wait, if your brother’s 22 and Ms. Bustier is 30, why are they together?” Asked Kim, looking at the bluenette.
“I’m 23.” Corrected Ms. Bustier, looking slightly offended.
Kim winced and sunk down into his seat.
“And that’s how Kim failed literature.” Said Alix, getting a solid five minutes of laughter from her classmates.
MB
It’d been a few weeks since Michael had made his presence, and his relationship with Ms. Bustier, known to the class.
The class stiffened when they heard a sob. Everyone looked around, before Marinette spotted Ms. Bustier, one hand on her forehead and the other holding a pen as she marked some higher years’ work. Everyone wondered what was on the work to make Ms. Bustier cry.
“Dear god, they are so stupid.” Whispered Ms Bustier, looking at the student’s answers.
Marinette pulled out her phone and sent a text to Michael, ‘Cal needs your help. Something bad just happened.’
Not a minute later, she got a reply ‘Be there in 5.’
True to form, Michael arrived in five minutes and walked over to the desk and spoke with Caline in low tones, before looking at the paper and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Alright, everyone,” Said Michael, getting everyone to look at him, “Who can tell me who William Shakespeare was?”
“He was an English play write who lived between 1564 and 1616.” Said Max, automatically.
“Well, one of the students in the year above you put, a man shaking a spear and selling weed.” Said Michael, making everyone freeze, “You do not know how depressing it is to know that 4th grade students are smarter than 2nd grade students.”
There was a collective wince from the class as the news sunk in and Ms. Bustier dissolved into a fresh wave of tears.
MB
The school found itself on the business end of a surprise inspection. The inspectors had gone around the school and continuously tutted at the students, teacher and other people in and around the school.
One inspector froze when he saw Chloe Bourgeois openly bully another member of the class, before turning to Ms. Bustier, “Are you really going to allow that to continue?”
Everyone watched as Ms. Bustier handed the inspector a piece of paper.
“So, the reason bullying isn’t punished is because the Principle has kept brushing it under the rug?” Clarified the inspector, frowning at the document.
“Pretty much, we once had a staff member who wasn’t even a week into the job before they were fired because they attempted to give a detention to one of those names.” Explained Ms. Bustier, leaning forwards on her desk.
The inspector frowned and said, “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, please.”
An hour later the art teacher poked his head in and said, “Damocles has just been relieved of his post.”
“What?!” Exclaimed Ms. Bustier, getting to her feet, “How?”
“They confronted him about the issues with his ‘exceptions’ list and found he’d misappropriated school funds.” Said the Art Teacher, as Ms. Mendeleiev walked past.
“What’d he do?” Asked Ms. Bustier, as Michael came up to the room.
“He’s put some of it in his own pocket, and he used the rest to turn his office into a superhero den, complete with hidden rooms and compartments.” Said the Art Teacher as Michael squeezed past.
“They also found evidence of, er, ‘inappropriate’ images of children, on school computers.” Said Michael, as he approached Caline, “After you showed them that list, they interviewed each staff member individually and found grounds to relieve his of his position as principal.”
“You do not know, how happy that makes me feel.” Said Caline, grinning.
 The day after Damocles had been relieved of his post as Principal, all the teachers seemed to gain new life to them. Ms. Bustier was happy to finally give Lila a detention for ‘distracting the class’, it only got better when they finally got phone number for Lila’s mother. Caline thought she should’ve brought popcorn. Lucky for her, Michael was kind enough to provide some.
MB
Michael narrowed his eyes and folded his arms as Marinette introduced Luka to him. He examined the boy, looking him up and down, before looking at Marinette.
“So, he’s the boyfriend?” Said Michael, getting a vehement refusal, making Michael leaned back smirking, “Ah, so this is the gay one.”
Marinette had taken a sip of a drink, which she proceeded to choke on. “MICHAEL!!”
“It’s okay, I get that a lot.” Said Luka, looking at Marinette’s brother, “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”
“My friend, as you may have observed,” Said Michael, looking down at Luka, “Our father, is a literal, fucking, giant.”
Luka frowned, before nodding.
MB
Marinette rocked back and forth as Michael typed away on the computer.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll start thinking somethings wrong.” Said Michael, making Marinette freeze and look at him.
“Michael,” Asked Marinette, “how long have you known Caline?”
“Since we were in school,” Responded Michael, “we were in the same class, I had a crush on her and was devastated when she started dating someone else, but I chose to support her in whatever made her happy. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that Adrien’s dating Kagami, and I know I should be happy for them, but…” Marinette trailed off.
“But you can’t help but wish you were the one he was in love with.” Finished Michael, looking at her, “Little one, it’s alright to feel those things, it only becomes wrong the moment you start to interfere with their relationship. Give it some time, and perhaps you’ll have your shot again.”
Marinette gave her brother a watery smile, before he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. Both being unaware of the couple standing outside the door.
“Come on, Nonna’s visiting today.” Said Michael, making Adrien and Kagami hide in a cupboard.
MB
Michael was pacing in the waiting area outside the hospital room.
“Caline’s going to be fine.” Said Sabine, looking up at her son.
“But what if she isn’t?” Asked Michael, his pacing increasing, “She’s been in there for hours, what if somethings gone wrong? What if she’s lost? What if the baby’s lost? What if they’re both lost and all I’ll have of them is the ultrasound photo?”
“Michael, did I ever tell you what your father did when you and your sister were born?” Asked Sabine, making Michael look down at her, “He ran through the hospital, screaming and yelling for doctors because I was screaming, he called for emergency services and, eventually, had to be sedated, but when he woke up and met you and Skye, he practically melted.”
“So, you’re saying we all get our spiralling panic attacks from dad?” Asked Michael, getting a small smile from Sabine.
“You all get so much from your father, and from me.” Said Sabine, placing her hand on Michael’s cheek, “I know you feel like you failed because you weren’t there for Sam and Brianna, but you’re with them now and I know that they are just as worried for Caline as you are.”
Michael smiled slightly, before looking down. Sam and Brianna were with Skye and Nora, while Michelle was being watched by Marinette back at the bakery. Michael’s head jerked up at the sound of a newborn baby crying. Quickly jumping to his feet, Michael made his way over to the doors and looked in through the window. A nurse opened the door, making Michael jump back and nervously grin.
“Congratulations,” Said the Nurse, her face completely straight, “you’re a father.”
Michael looked past the nurse and spotted Caline holding a screaming bundle.
“Can, can I go in?” Asked Michael, nervously.
“As long as you don’t have anything contagious,” Said the Nurse, looking at Michael and then at his mother, “Everything should be fine.”
“We had our temperatures checked when we arrived on the floor.” Said Sabine, gently pushing Michael towards Caline and the baby.
“Cal?” Called Michael, making the red head look up.
Caline smiled and gestured Michael to come closer, carefully positioning the bundle so they could scream at Michael. Michael perched on the edge of the bed, the baby’s screams quietened and two, big, bright blue eyes stared up at Michael.
“Looks like this one is a daddy’s girl.” Said Caline, as the baby continued to stare up at Michael.
Then, out of nowhere, two small sneezes made the couple smile. The baby sneezed for a third time, before looking back at Michael and then at Caline. Soft coos were coming from the baby.
“Are we still going to go with the name we agreed on?” Asked Caline, as the baby continued to stare at them.
“Maman,” Called Michael, getting his mother’s attention, “Come meet Sabine.”
MB
“Why are her eyes so big?” Asked Sam, tilting his head slightly.
“Because a person’s eyes are fully grown when they’re born, dummy.” Said Brianna, folding her arms.
“Then why are there people with really small eyes?” Continued Sam, as baby Sabine cooed up at them.
Michelle stared at her baby sister, before getting up and toddling over to Marinette, while baby Sabine started to try eating her foot.
“What is it with babies and eating themselves?” Asked Toby, before tossing the contents of his shot glass into his mouth.
“Why are you drinking cold coffee out of a shot glass?” Countered Skye, as Michelle returned with a Ourse plushie, sat down and started to doze off.
“What is it with Michael’s kids all being really quiet?” Asked Marinette, making her parents look at each other.
“Marinette,” Said her mother, “All of you were quiet babies, we had to by special baby monitors so we could actually know if any of you were having trouble.”
“I get the sinking feeling that there’s a horrible story coming.” Said Marinette, making her mother sigh.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Said Sabine, watching as baby Sabine’s eyes lit up when Michael trudged in, “Is everything alright?”
“Let’s just say that Caline’s lucky she’s on leave,” Said Michael, rubbing his eyes, “the schools had to get the police involved in what we thought was a minor internal issue.”
“What issue?” Asked Caline, as she returned from the toilet.
“Can’t say, because there are little ears about.” Said Michael, subtly gesturing to the small children and Marinette.
“Hey.” Protested Marinette, as Toby ushered her and the children from the room. Toby returned a minute later.
“They’re in Marinette’s room,” Said Toby, unaware of the Kwami floating under the sofa, “and there’s a movie on, so they’ll be entertained for a few hours.”
“We found a fuck ton of child pornography on a staff member’s computer.” Said Michael, groaning as he sat up, “Damocles wanted it to be dealt with quietly, however, at that point I’d already contacted the police.”
“Missed being in the uniform that much, huh?” Teased Toby, getting a glare from Michael.
“We’re still going through the folders, but we’ve already unearthed enough for the police to take it off our hands.” Said Michael, as his phone went off, “Ugh, what now?”
Michael answered the phone and all traces of tiredness vanished, “You what? Right, right, I’ll tell them.”
Michael hung up and looked around, “Okay, bad news first, they found evidence that Marinette was molested amongst the files, on a lighter note, Damocles has been arrested because they found he’d been backing up the pictures individually to his personal computer.”
There was a tense silence.
“When they say ‘molested’ do they actually mean ‘raped’?” Asked Skye, after a moment. Michael was silent, making Skye snarl, “Where is he?”
“They didn’t say.” Said Michael, as his twin started pacing.
“But we could find him, right, like we did with Li.” said Skye, rubbing her forehead.
“Skye, the reason none of us were prosecuted for Li was that they never found him.” Said Toby, making Caline frown.
“Who’s Li?” Asked Caline, making everyone freeze.
Michael opened his mouth, before freezing. He placed a finger to his lips and quietly made his way over to the door, upon reaching it, he pulled the door open, making Adrien and Kagami tumble into the room.
“What the hell are you two doing here?!” Snarled Michael, grabbing Adrien’s collar and pushing him against the wall, Skye doing the same with Kagami.
“W-we came to see Marinette.” Stuttered Adrien, as Michael glared at him.
“How much did you hear?” Growled Michael, before he heard a shuffling sound by the steps leading up to Marinette’s room.
“I heard enough.” Said Marinette, sitting curled up on one of the steps.
Michael and Skye froze, before the former sighed, “Marinette, go to Maman and Papa’s room please.”
Marinette went without a word, leaving Michael and Skye to deal with Adrien and Kagami. Michael set Adrien down, before glancing at his mother. Sabine understood his silent question and followed Marinette, as Michael started pacing around the room.
“Well, that was a fuck-up in a dixie.” Said Michael, running a hand down his face.
“No kidding.” Muttered Toby, as Tom started making some tea.
“Who’s Li?” Asked Adrien, making everyone look at him and Kagami.
“If we don’t tell you, you’re going to ask Marinette, aren’t you?” Questioned Skye, folding her arms across her chest.
“If we need to.” Said Kagami, her voice cold.
“You do that, and I’ll rip your spine out and strangle you with it.” Snapped Toby, his nails growing and sharpening.
“I doubt we’ll need to resort to violence.” Uttered Michael, looking at the two, “If we tell you, you must never speak of it.”
“Depends on what it is.” Said Kagami, glaring at Michael.
Michael glanced around the room, his eyes going to each person, before they settled on his father. Tom nodded but did not look happy about it.
“For three years, starting when Marinette was five,” Said Michael, his tone flat, “our uncle, Li Cheng, molested and raped her. When the family found out, we tore him apart. We don’t know how, but the authorities never found his remains.”
“Shortly after that, we came across an old man with a… unique music box,” Continued Skye, looking at her knees, “We don’t know how, but we found out that he had something that help suppress the memories. It’s why Marinette can’t speak, or understand, Chinese. It blocked off a major part of her memories, we never pushed the matter because we couldn’t risk the barricade breaking and having the girl that we all came to know, and love die at the hands of her own memories.”
Caline, Adrien and Kagami sat in shocked silence. The confession changed their view on everyone in the room. A cracking sound drew their attention to Tom, a broken cup in his hand with blood dripping onto the work surface. Skye sighed and got up to treat the wound, as Michael collapsed into a chair.
“W-what happens now?” Asked Adrien, looking around.
“Since Maman is explaining what happened to Marinette,” Said Toby, his voice hollow, “we have to clean up the remains of the barricade as best as we can.”
“We don’t actually know what’ll happen,” Corrected Michael, looking at his brother, “for all we know, Marinette will bounce back. But the reverse is also true, Marinette could be destroyed, and a different person takes her place.”
Michael’s ear twitched, he could hear sobbing. He doubted that it was his mother crying.
MB
The next week, Marinette seemed to be a shell of herself. Adrien had asked if it was alright if Alya knew, Michael just said, “That’s up to Marinette.”
The following weeks slowly turned into months, and Michael found himself leaning against the wall as the school broke for summer. Michael carefully watched Marinette leave with her friends, he didn’t know if Marinette told Alya, but the two seemed to be closer. He often found Marinette cuddled up with her friends at any one time, so far, it had been five. He trusted Luka, Nino and Alya, he wasn’t sure about Adrien and Kagami.
Michael frowned when he spotted Lila approaching the group but smirked when the Italian tripped over a chair leg.
“I really shouldn’t laugh,” Said Caline, balancing baby Sabine in her arms, “but I wish that was caught on camera.”
“It’s against the law, remember?” Joked Michael, as everyone looked down at Lila.
“I was talking about the security camera.” Caline pointed to the small, black orb that sat in the top corner of the room.
“Oh, I forgot about that one.” Smirked Michael, as Marinette and her friends vanished through the door.
“I don’t see how, you installed it.” Remarked Caline, as Sabine started whining because her mother had stopped bouncing her.
MB
Marinette rolled over and looked at the alarm clock, it was slowly ticking down to the time the alarm would go off. Normally, she’d get up and silence the alarm before it sounded, but she currently had a mod of blond hair pinning her arm down to her mattress. Marinette froze when she heard a snuffling sound. A red furred Labrador Retriever peaked over the edge of the bed. The dog gave its best impression of a grin, before barking at them. The cuddle pile jumped as the dog bounced onto the bed and started licking Marinette to death.
“Bridgette, no, why?” Whined Marinette, as the dog dropped herself down on top of Marinette.
Bridgette’s tail wagged harder, before a particularly loud bark, waking a small black cat hiding away on one of Marinette’s shelves. The cat jumped and hissed at the dog, while Marinette tried to wrangle the overgrown puppy off her bed. The cat jumped down and landed on Adrien’s lap. Felix glared at Bridgette and settled himself down on Adrien and started purring. The rest of the group slowly became aware of what was happening.
“Why couldn’t your brother get you some normal pets?” Asked Kagami, glaring at the two animals.
“A cat and dog are normal.” Said Alya, stretching her back.
Kagami glared harder and continued to grumble as Bridgette jumped off the bed and bounded out of the room. Adrien slowly got to his feet, carefully adjusting the cat in his arms as he followed after the dog, Nino and Alya following soon after.
“I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep, am I?” Asked Marinette, her arm covering her eyes.
“No.” Said Luka, before grabbing the covers and pulling them off, “Time to wake up, Mike and Celine are bringing their kids over today.”
Marinette whined and rolled over. That whine turned into a squeal as Kagami grabbed her and hauled her into her arms and started carrying her to the door.
“Nooo, I don’t wanna wake up.” Whined Marinette, dramatically struggling as Kagami princess carried her out of the room.
“If we’re lucky, none of the Kwami’s woke up.” Muttered Luka, nervously glancing at a doll house situated in the corner of the room. A loud snore came from Plagg’s room. Luka sighed in relief and followed Kagami and Mainette after the others.
“Fucking cat, trying to steal my camembert.” Drooled Plagg, kneading a cushion in his sleep.
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sneyrwrites · 4 years
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|1| |Asteroid| Oikawaa Toruu
|Oikawa Tooru x reader| 
|Alien AU|  |Multipart | |Wordcount: 2604| 
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The nights in the observatory were long and lonely since his coworkers left on vacation.
All night watching at a screen keeping record of the sky was something he used to do for fun, but now it had become a tedious task, until the satellite he was monitoring moved to anther section, he was stuck observing the same old nebula. That day the only interesting occurrence was a peanut-shaped cloud of dust surrounding a few young stars.
It was beautiful, but he had seen the same thing for the last week straight.
Sighing, Oikawa leaned back on his chair, the soft cushions soothing a little the back pain it appeared suddenly because of the several hours of hunching over the buttons. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. A nap wans’t going to hurt, Oikawa had everything configured to alert him if something went slightly out of normal.
He drifted off, the long hours awake doing the maintenance knocking him unconscious.
A weird static noise woke him up a few hours later
Opening his heavy eyes, Oikawa looked at the screens in front of him. Everything  seemed fine, except for a rare radio wave. It wasn't like the normal popping sounds from Mercury. It was more like the tone Venus made, but pitched up. A constant note.
"What the f...?" He looked strange at the oscillating curve of the transmission and track the phenomenon down. He needed to record it.
His fingers flew across the keyboard, with an experience years of practice polished to perfection. It intrigued Oikawa, as he with one hand collected data while with the other he chugged down the rest of  his cold coffee, trying to keep the sleepiness at bay
As he was figuring out the quadrant where it came from when the alarms blasted off.
The remaining sleep lest his body, as he was startled by the blasting noise. Now he was concerned. Warning signs flashed across the screens and everything went crazy. Desperate to figure out what was happening Oikawa got up, franticly tapping away, trying to decipher what was causing the chaos and the raising of his heart.
 Everything went black,  the observatory going silent.
Oikawa sat heavily on his chair, the anxiety that had circulated  his body starting to dissipate. Maybe everything was just a glitch from the generator, there was no way every single computer and hardware in there could just malfunction like that because of a signal. He was grateful he had made a backup copy that day. It would've been a catastrophe if he had procrastinated another day.
Oikawa leaned his head back and rubbed his face, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his laboured breath.
He just sat there, waiting for the power to come back up, the silent air of the mountain almost deafening. He never noticed how lonely it could get in the observatory, the constant buzzing of the machinery helping him distract. But now, with everything shutdown he realized he had chosen a solitary career.
He wondered how was Iwaizumi doing; it had been a few months since Oikawa left the top of the mountain to go see him. Even tho they never understood the other's life choices they still supported them. When Hajime joined the army Oikawa was there to support him, he would've never guessed his best friend was into serving and protecting the country.
He would call him when the power returned.
A blinding light flashed behind his closed lids and he perked up, ready to get to work on resetting everything. But he stopped in his tracks when he noticed that the light wasn't coming from the ceiling, but from outside. The weird warm light came from the windows. A strange red hue on it.
He got up and looked out. And it petrified him when he saw it. 
An asteroid coursing through the sky, right there in the middle of nowhere. It got closer and closer each time, shards of it coming off from the friction with the atmosphere, tuning it into a meteorite.
Oikawa was awestruck as he observed the lights flashing as the anomaly soared the sky, it was so beautiful.
It was falling at an alarming speed, and in less than a second the light disappeared behind the forest, the remaining of the meteor crushing to the ground. Light blinded him, and a cloud of steam, smoke and dirt went up in the air.
The trees surrounding the planetary shook from the impact, and the earth trembled.  Oikawa felt a flutter in his belly. Since he was a kid he had dreamed of witnessing an asteroid with his very own eyes. Throwing caution to the wind, he got up and ran to the exit, his shoes squeaking on the recently polished floor.
Stopping halfway, he turned back and grabbed his camera. Oikawa needed to document this, or no one would believe him. He was aware he needed to call someone, but he was way too excited to care. He would inform the authorities later, but for now he was going to fulfill one of his dreams.
The crisp night air slapped his cheeks as he ran through the trees of the woods that surrounded the observatory. Oikawa dodge tree branches and roots, hurrying his feet to go faster, not caring about the dangers. What if there was a harmful amount of radiation?
He could stand an extra ear if he could see the meteorite with his very own eyes.
As he got closer, he noticed the devastation the impact created. The tops of the trees were smoking and the pine needles had disappeared from its branches. The smell of burnt wood stung his nose, and he sneezed, slowing his pace. The heat grew, and a tingling sensation lifted the hairs of his arms.
The plants were shattered right at the middle, charred wood turned black. The asteroid must have break them on impact. He looked around, amazed at the consequences of the odd astronomical occurrence, and searching for the remaining. There was no way whatever caused this had disappeared with no remaining. Where he expected to see a giant piece of steaming rubble, he just saw a bright light.
It almost looked like it had form, but he knew that was impossible, light only manifested in the form of rays, it didn’t have a mass. He needed to see it up close.
With small hesitant steps, he moved forwards getting near the thing sprawled in between two broken trees, suspended in the branches. Energy buzzed in the air, and he felt his hair rais because of the static. Oikawa’s eyes got used to the brightness of the unidentified object, and he noticed that whatever it was, it looked like a body .
And it had moved.
Oikawa froze in place, as he saw how the thing slowly lifted what seemed to be a head, as if the motion took a toll on its body. Hands made of light gripped branches and it got down from the uncomfortable place, the same sound Oikawa heard from the radio emanating from its form. It turned its head, looking around, as if taking in the unfamiliar environment, and stopped when it turned to him.
Oikawa could feel a cold sweat run down his body. Was he dreaming? He couldn't make sense of what he was seeing, he's brain went in overdrive. Fear made his feet stuck to the ground, making it imposibble to follow his instincts to run away as fas as he could, and call for help.
The thing didn't have a face, and it looked like it didn't have gender  either. It almost looked  as if the light was compacted inside a balloon, glowing, but difusing it at the same time, and Oikawa noticed it didn't hurt his eyes at all. It was like looking at the sun without all the drawbacks.
His heart sped up even more when it took a hesitant step towards him, almost as if it was determining if Oikawa was a threat or not. Heat radiated from the thing and when it was only a couple of feet away, it extended an illuminated limb, fingers made of pure light shined, as a palm face him. If he wanted it, he could have reach out and brush his hand into its, but he was afraid.
He stood still. A shimmer came from the thing's hand and embraced him, surrounding him in a cocoon of warmth. He could feel the light brushing his skin, almost as if it was an extension of the thing in front of him, and the tenderness of it dissipated a little his nerves.
The cold invaded him when the rays retreated and it's hand went down. An explosion of white blinded him, and he fell startled on the floor, rocks digging in his palms, a few cuts opening up. A few heartbeats passed before he could open his eyes again without feeling like his eyeballs would fry.
The light being had disappeared, the only thing illuminating the dark woods were the burning leaves on the floor. If no one took care a wild fire might occur.
Oikawa got to his feet,  a disappointed feeling weighting down on his belly. He had witnessed something out of this world, literally, and he lost the chance to record it. Sighing, he lifted the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of the landing point and turned to leave.
His scream resonated through the woods.  Right in front of him there was a girl, just staring at him.
The lack of clothes on her body made a blush invade his face, as he tried to avert his gaze. She looked at him confused and leaned in, inspecting the change of color in his cheeks.
"um..." Oikawa started. Her eyebrows rose in her face, and her hand raised to his neck, trying to feel his vocal cords, but  Oikawa jumped back, before she could touch him "What the hell are you doing!?"
"What the hell are you doing..." She responded, a tender tone in her voice. The words came out a little slurred as if she was trying to make sense of them, as if she never heard them before.
Something in Oikawa's brain clicked. It was her, the thing that had fallen from the sky was standing right in front of him, and it had taken the form of a human. He took a few steps back, raising his arms in between them, trying to keep her at bay .
His gaze lingered a little more than appropriate on her chest and then fall down to her stomach. She had no belly button.
"What the hell are you doing..." She repeated, stepping towards him.
"Don't come closer!" He warned, hoping she understood, and that the tremble in his voice was just a product of his imagination.
"Don't..." The t's she made were exaggerated and strong. " Closer, don't what..." She tried to communicate, and if Oikawa wasn’t about to faint from the fear, he would have been amazed by the proof of alien intelligence e right in front of his very eyes.
She raised her own arms, imitating him,  eyes soft. Oikawa relaxed a little. She hadn't attacked him yet. That was a friendly sign, right?
Letting his arms fall to his side, the curious side of Oikawa’s brain took over, completely ignoring the voice of reason that told him to get the hell out of there. He walked up to her and examined her body 
She seemed human, skin looked normal, no weird colors like blue or green, no third eyes or tentacles, no slimy substance covering her or  teeth's poking out. Her hair was pretty and her eyes followed his movements as he circled her, trying to find something out of normal, besides the missing belly button.Careful not to scare her, he reached his hand to touch her skin. She stood still, a curious look on her face as Oikawa's  fingers brushed  her shoulder.
 A startled gasp left her lips.  He imitated her when he felt the high temperature of her body. His eyes went up to hers, and he took a step back when he noticed the change in her expression. It was almost as if she was blushing, but it looked wrong.
Her cheeks were glowing, almost as if two lightbulbs  were behind her skin. Her pupils made the goosebumps invade his body. They were glowing, and not only that, but they were glowing red, the same shade as the one he saw out the window.
"Um... Are you okay?” Oikawa asked. And wanted to kick himself right after, she didn't know his language, how did he expected her to respond?
The light on her face had faded, and she was back to normal, or well, as normal as an alien could be.
Surprising Oikawa, she brushed her fingertips across the exposed patch of skin in his chest, right above the collar of his shirt. A rumble came out of her, it wasn't threatening, almost like a purring of a cat. She seemed entertained caressing his skin, as if she never had felt anything like it. He felt like a dog for a second and wanted to laugh.
A chuckle came from his chest at the dumb thought, and maybe a little because of the craziness of the situation. Who would've thought that him, Oikawa Tooru, who had been obsessed with aliens for his entire life would've met one in person?
When the alien girl felt the vibration under her palm she looked up. Her touch traveled across his neck, a tingling sensation lingering where she had been, warmth spreading through his body. When she touched a sensitive spot where he was ticklish, his fist clenched.
Pain shot trough his arms as he remembered the minor injuries on his palms. A hissing sound left his lips, tearing her concentration from exploring his body. Blood had trickled down his palm. She grabbed his hands and examined them, a furrow on her brows.
Her fingers lighten up and Oikawa felt her temperature rising. He looked at her eyes and saw her pupils shining again. His hands were suddenly engulfed in a ball of warm light, an energy flowing from her to his body.
He just stood there, not knowing what was happening, letting her do whatever she was doing. Her actions hypnotised him, the fear had already out of his body only leaving excitement behind. Now his heart was racing for another completely different reason, the surrealism of everything causing a flutter in his belly.
She let go of him and took a step back. Oikawa almost missed the comfort of her touch, but he remembered the cuts in his hands. He surely had stained her hands. His eyes went to her fingers, almost certain he would find his blood on her, but he was surprised to see them void of any red stains.
Did he imagine it all? No, he remembered the sharp and throbbing pain in his palms.
Estranged he looked at his hands, and he felt a wave of dizziness invade him.
They were healed. 
The once torn skin now was fixed, no signs of cuts, dirt or blood. He looked up at her once more. The alien girl was just looking at him, as if she was waiting for something to occur.
Her pupils flashed bright once, and a flash of scorching heat slapped his palms. Horrified, Oikawa saw the bright markings on him, circles on his once even skin shining as if they were neon signs, matching the color of her eyes.
He felt sick. What the hell just happened? What did she do to him?
He opened his mouth to ask her just that, but with another flash of her eyes everything went dark, and Oikawa was out.
✘ Masterlist
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aggedyann · 4 years
Text
Alone
A/N No dialogue, only text message
Freddie woke up to a house empty except for the dogs. The dogs who had woken him up, begging to go outside. He tried to take a breath through his congested sinuses and ended up with a sharp series of coughs as his reward.
Slipping his flip flops on, he walked downstairs to let the dogs out in the backyard, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head and sinuses. “UhhrChuhdzshoo, HuhhrChushzhoo!” He grabbed a paper towel and slumped down at the kitchen table, wincing as he blew his sore nose
He’d had the cold for a week and a half before it turned into a sinus infection. Sore throat, cough, throbbing head, fever, and sneezing…incessant sneezing. Normally, he’d be all over that last part, but this time around, he just felt too awful.
And he was alone. Jamie had literally taken him to the doctor, dropped him at home and flown to San Francisco for work. Alex was doing shows this week in Vegas and had taken Tim and Alyssa with him. Tim had just started dating Ethan, and it wasn’t like he knew him well enough to call him and ask him to bring over some chicken soup. Did Ethan even cook?, he wondered
Freddie was on his own for a few days.
He let the dogs back in and fed them, head pounding relentlessly as he bent over to fill their bowls. Grabbing a fresh glass of water, he fruitlessly blew his nose and headed back upstairs.
Shivering, he crawled back under his blankets, pulling them tight up around him. Cash crawled up on his right side and Pace up on his left, both dogs snuggling around him. He appreciated the extra warmth.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept, just that he felt ten times worse when he woke up. A glance at the clock showed it was nearly 11. No wonder he felt awful: he had been due for more cold medicine almost two hours ago.
He sat up and hastily grabbed a handful of tissues, burying his nose in them. “H’Chudshh, Chudzhh, UhhChudshoo.” Six more sneezes rocked his body, and he sniffled wetly as he felt the cement in his sinuses shift and his nose start to slowly run. Three crackling blows later, and he was ready to get out of bed to grab the cold medicine and his antibiotic
With a second thought, he grabbed the blanket off the bed along with his pillow. Draping the blanket over his shoulders, he made his way downstairs to where a new box of DayQuil and his antibiotic sat on the kitchen counter.
Freshly medicated and somewhat more hydrated – still no appetite – he made his way to the couch, clutching his pillow and dragging the blanket behind him. Flopping down on the couch with a sneeze, he sighed. He’d left the tissue box in the kitchen…and his phone.
After a brief coughing spell, and several sips of water, he slowly walked back to the kitchen. A glance at his phone showed three missed text messages. Grabbing the tissues, he took his phone back to the couch to read them.
Once bundled in his blanket again, he took a good look at his phone. Jamie…2 missed texts; Tim…missed text.
Jamie: Hey Sweety, just checking in to see how you’re doing?
Jamie: sweety, you ok? It’s not like you not to answer. Do I need to call someone?
Her last text had been sent just before he woke up. He texted back hurriedly.
Freddie: I’m ok, hon. Just woke up. Let the dogs out & then fell back to sleep. Feel pretty awful, but I’m so tired it doesn’t matter
He read Tim’s text…much less worried than Jamie’s.
Tim: Hey man, how you doing? Heard you have sinus infection now. Sucks. Feel better.
Freddie started to respond when a sudden sneeze hit him. “HuhChuszzhh. Ugh.” He muttered, wiping the spray off his phone with a tissue, then pressing that tissue to his nose as a whole volley of sneezes struck him, “UhChuzhh, Chudshh, H’Chudshoo, uhChudzhhoo, hhh’chuzhh.” He sneezed for another half minute before the unrelenting itch left his sinuses. And then blew his tender, raw nose for another minute with a fresh wad of tissues..
Then responded to Tim.
Freddie: yeah…sinus infection. Pretty miserable. Would rather be poolside in Vegas lol
His phone dinged with a return text from Jamie just after he messaged Tim.
Jamie: Good. Glad you’re ok, & just sleeping. Was worried. Will let you go back to sleep. ❤️ you
Freddie: ❤️ you too.
Freddie stretched out on the couch, still wrapped in his blanket, tight enough to stay warm, but loose enough to allow his hands easy tissue access. He found a movie on prime and started watching. “HuhChuzhh.” He had just gotten comfortable enough for his eyelids to start feeling heavy when the sneeze pitched him forward. “Uhhchidshh, Chizhoo.” Ugh, he thought. What had happened to his usual pattern of singles or doubles. Every time now was at least three…normally he’d be over the moon at that; he felt he never sneezed enough; but considering every sneeze caused searing pain from his forehead down to his jaw, and by the end of each fit, he was dizzy, sneezing was not at the top of the list of enjoyable activities today.
He tried again, only to be awoken by four sneezes once he finally dozed off.
The third time, a coughing jag which left him gasping for air.
Finally on the fourth attempt, he fell asleep until the dogs woke him, wanting to go outside for the third time that day.
Grabbing a hoodie from the hall closet, he wrapped it around himself – was he ever going to be warm? – and led the dogs into the backyard, cleaning up after them for the first time that day. Shivering, he washed his hands.
Deciding it was time to eat, he popped a bowl of oatmeal into the microwave, then picked at it. It was warm, but the post nasal drip running down his throat made him wince with every swallow. With half of it finished, he made a cup of tea – no lemon, extra honey, and returned to couch and his blanket burrito.
The steam from the tea started his nose dripping, and it wasn’t long before he had freed his hands from the confines of the blanket and deposited the tissue box on his lap. Soft liquid blows followed as the sludge that had been in his sinuses loosened up and began to drain its way out
“UhhChushoo, Chushoo!” The pair of sneezes surprised him, and watched the spray settled on the coffee table before grabbing a new set of tissues and filling them, needing a second set to finish blowing his nose. ‘Better take a disinfectant wipe to the coffee table before Jamie gets home.’ He reminded himself before being startled by another sudden sneeze, barely having a chance to clap a hand over his face.
He wiped his hand on his sweat pants and reached for more tissues – better keep these ready; the tea had certainly started something.
He was able to select the sequel to the movie he had just finished watching when the sneezing struck again. “Huhhchishoo! UhhChishh! Chishh! HehhChishheshh!” By the third sneeze, the thin stack of tissues – he really thought two would have been enough- was soaked, and generally, rendered useless. These were not the stuffy sneezes of that morning; these were wet sneezes that seemed to come out of nowhere. If only he were healthy enough to enjoy this…
He took a sip of tea, noting the steam/tea had a spicy scent. He’d grabbed one of Jamie’s teas by mistake, and this particular one always irritated him. However, today, it was just what he needed; it *was* clearing his sinuses.
“Uhhkushhoo, kushhoo, huhuckshoo!”
Grabbing the last few tissues from the box, he powerfully blew his nose, hoping to stop the running for a few minutes. Shedding his blanket cocoon, he padded his way to the hall closet for more
He had no more than opened the box when he doubled over with a powerful sneeze that was unlike his normal, and remained that way for four more. Straightening up, he waited for the wave of dizziness to pass before heading back to the kitchen for a glass of water and fresh tea.
That done, he flopped down on the couch, only to have his phone ding again.
Tim: poolside would be good for you. Soaking up the sun would get you better. Alex says hi - he’s been in rehearsals most of the day while Lyss goes shopping.
Freddie grinned and typed back: Don’t lose all your money at the blackjack table
“He’Chushh.” He rubbed his nose with the tissue, starting to stuff up again, and turned his attention back to the movie.
He must have nodded off because it was nearing the end when his phone woke him again.
Ethan: Hey…it’s Ethan. Heard through the grapevine that you’re sick and alone. Need me to drop anything off?
Freddie read the text a few times, first trying to figure out who Ethan was in his half asleep state. Having placed Ethan, he was then trying to figure out how Ethan knew his predicament. – Tim must have told him.
Freddie: Yeah…sinus infection. I’m good though…Jamie stocked me up pretty good before she left
Ethan: You sure? I went to check on Cashew, so I’m stopping at the deli between there and the hospital. They have pretty good soup…Or if you just want some company? Although I’ll warn you, you’ll spend the evening listening to me sneeze…
Freddie did have to admit, he wasn’t totally opposed to that idea…if he only had a decent voice right now. The thought of Ethan sneezing sent a charge through him that made him feel a little better, but he was not quite sure if he felt well enough for the man to stop over.
Freddie: Allergies bad today?
Ethan: 🤧 Awful. Plus there was a hurt dog in the parking garage after work, and like an idiot, I had to stop to try to check it’s collar for tags. Scared him every time I sneezed. Finally someone else came along and took over for me. Still sneezed in the car for half an hour tho.
Freddie: Jamie will do that too.
Ethan: anyway, I’m still sneezing for my attempts at a good deed. Thought that since I was stopping at Tim’s, I’d hit the deli instead of sneezing my way around my kitchen. Sure I can’t tempt you with some chicken dumpling…
Freddie paused to sneeze before responding:
What about our dogs? I know they’re bred for people with allergies, but I don’t want to risk making you feel worse…
Ethan: They’ve never bothered me before. Labradoodle have never been a problem
Freddie: Chicken dumpling actually sounds really good. Throat hurts so I haven’t eaten much. If you don’t mind driving over here, that I’m a snotty, disgusting mess with no voice….
Ethan: I’m sure I’ve seen worse, man. Text me your address.
Freddie texted over the address.
Ethan: see you an an hour, ok
Freddie: sure. Thanks
“Uhhchushoo, H’chushh, Chuhhshehh.” Freddie got off the couch and headed for the shower, glad he’d have enough time to look human and pick up the used tissues before Ethan got there,.
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discordantplains · 5 years
Text
Arrival
Tumblr media
It was another day in the void, when, without any sudden cause or awareness to all, but one, it wasn’t. It was Mot who’s keen eye noticed their startlingly reduced number. While the space Dianite had conjured created a way for them to live mostly normal in a reluctant shared living area as they plummeted endlessly—the missing voice of Tom grating on his nerves was the first sign. He awoke fully and stirred Dianite from his meditation.
“Dianite, we’re missing…” Mot did a quick headcount. “Six people.”
Dianite opened his eyes and turned his head to survey the room. “Indeed we are, a shame.”
Martha shook herself free of her own meditation and looked around the room in horror. “Dianite. All of the sky-travelers are gone.”
“And Deviser Gaines,” Andor spoke up, looking around their shared space.
“I did nothing to cause them to leave—someone else must have pulled them from this space,” Dianite stated. He took in the room in thought. “Perhaps the Deviser.”
Mot thought on it. “He was tinkering with something this past week.”
“We should strive to retrieve them,” Martha suggested.
“They’ve likely already died peacefully,” Dianite decided. “They will be missed.”
...Elsewhere...
Falling through the void, while uncomfortable, cold, and tedious, is possible to acclimate to over time. Getting dumped out of it into new dimensions, however, is not. It’s painful in the same way stumbling out into bright sunlight after spending 24 hours in a dark basement, or falling 50 meters into a body of water, is. Not to mention it comes about suddenly. One moment it’s the 100th round of a rock paper scissors tournament, because what else is there to do in the void, and the next a bright white light is enveloping everything from below and everyone is waking up in a sea of wheat and grass.
They lay stunned for a moment, Tucker, Sonja, and Waglington in a heap of awkwardly twisted limbs and Jordan and Tom somewhere else nearby. With an acceptable amount of groaning and complaining-- “Watch your elbow, Wag!” “Ouch! Sorry Sonja!” “Tucker move your foot!” “Jordan your breath stinks.” “Get off of me, Tom”--everyone manages to right themselves and take stock of their surroundings. And, as it turns out, falling out of the void was about as equally disorienting as the scene in front of them.
Rolling plains stretched for miles in every direction. Waist high grains rippled in the breeze like a body of water. A golden sunset spilling gently across the expanse cast all five heros in a halo of warm orange light. They squinted fiercely in the glow, willing their void-sensitive eyes to adjust in an attempt to locate any landmarks.
“Oh gods, we’re dead!” Tom wailed dramatically, pulling up the grasses around them by the fistfull. He was tearfully staring out into the endless ocean of plains, right into the setting sun.
The Dianite champion sniffled, rolling the fuzzy tips of the grains between his fingers. “It’s like that scene at the end of Gladiator!”
Jordan was the first to recover thanks to the sunglasses perched ever present on the bridge of his nose. He let out a bemused chuckle at the hysterical zombie now mostly-fake sobbing into the stalks of the plants he’d uprooted.
“What are you even talking about...”
“Turn around, dipshit.” Tucker’s voice groaned from behind them.
Jordan complied immediately, unable to hold in an “ooh” of interest. Tom took a few more seconds to be dramatic before listening to the Mianite champion.
It was clear, at least, that they hadn't died, but where they had ended up was another mystery altogether.
Before them lay a momentous city. Gleaming in the darkening skies, with amber and tawny structures rising into the blooming sky--pinpoints of stars bursting into existence. It was difficult to see the scope of it considering the flat nature of the landscape, but, from what the five heros could tell, it was at least as big as Dagrun had been on Ruxomar. The buildings closest to them seemed to be smaller, residential structures, complete with the occasional horse stable or animal pen. Their roofs were wooden and rustic looking. Further in lay grander structures that were just visible if one craned their neck at the right angle.
"Well, this isn't Mianite." Waglington astutely noted, hopping in place to test his powers of flight. They seemed non-existent here, too, just like on Ruxomar.
"You can say that again…" Tucker murmured, in awe of the silent city before them.
"Well, this isn't Mianite." He repeated cheekily, brushing off the dirty look he received from Tucker in response.
Jordan wasn't paying attention to their banter and instead was scanning the edge of town for signs of life, anyone who might've noticed their arrival. On Ruxomar, at least, they had caused quite a stir. Groups of people falling from the sky were not commonplace. He almost expected to see armed guards marching their way across the fields while curious civilians peeked through half shuttered blinds. Yet it remained still.
"Should we go in?" He suggested tentatively, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks.
Sonja turned around, hair glowing auburn in the dying light and voicing her opinion for the first time since they landed. She looked into the plains, searching for people in the dark waving grains..
"Wait, we're missing people, where are Martha and Andor?"
"And Dianite!" Tom added loudly.
"Oh, and Mot." Jordan pitched in as an afterthought, realizing Sonja was right. It seemed only half of their void companions had made it through, the inhabitants of Ruxomar being entirely absent.
No one had remembered Deviser Gaines.
They spent a few more moments standing around and looking like idiots. None of them had any answers. Unlike the first time there was no empty land for them to build upon without care--or a number of city people greeting them to guide them into their new world. It was an obviously established world--but dead silent. A pair of eyes watched them from a distance. Then a second. And a curious third.
Tucker sneezed, wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Can you be allergic to grass? I think I'm allergic to grass."
Sonja huffed in frustration, the fox ears on her head twitching impatiently.
"Guys…"
"As much as you're right to be concerned-" Waglington cut in, "-I don't think standing here asking questions will solve anything. Wherever here is…" He cleared his throat. "Besides--if Tucker’s allergic--”
“I definitely am,” he sniffled.
“Then we should move closer towards the town.”
She fell silent for the time being though the continued twitching of her ears and tail betrayed the questions she still had lingering on the tip of her tongue. The most pressing being the question of how they'd arrived here in the first place.
Jordan shuffled awkwardly as silence elapsed between them. Tom attempted to tickle the side of his neck with a green fox-tail. He slapped Tom’s hand away. Tucker sneezed again.
“So...should we go in then?” Wag pressed again.
The darkening prairie behind them was beginning to take on a sinister air as the gently swaying stalks began to bleed into the same muted gray. And then lights in the town began to flicker on, one by one as if by clockwork. There were no other such points of light anywhere else across the plains.
“It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” Tucker murmured, looking anxiously around the darkening landscape, “unless we want to get devoured by mobs.”
“Well I don’t know why we’ve just been fucking about in the grass then, let’s go!” Tom whooped, stomping forward and away from everyone else with reckless abandon.
“You were literally the only one messing with the grass.” Jordan muttered before trailing after him, Tucker close behind. Waglington and Sonja shared a more cautious look before following suit.
They cut a swath through the prairie grass which Sonja took to mean that no one else had walked through it in a good while, for, aside from their trampling, the fields around them sat perfectly undisturbed.
There seemed to be only one entrance into the town as fences stretched seamlessly around the perimeter, lit regularly with lanterns to keep out the assumedly countless mobs that roamed the plains at night. Tom arrived at the city gates first, jumping high in order to slap a large sign hanging from an elaborate archway carved from immense spruce logs. He missed spectacularly, nowhere near tall enough to reach what had to be a good eight feet off the ground, and Tucker’s bark of laughter at his failure carried clearly across the open expanse.
A pair of eyes wavered in the darkness as the two others drifted away. It blinked--stare locked on the strangers.
“We probably don’t want to create too much of a scene.” Waglington cautioned as Tom turned on Tucker and dared him to do better. Tom crossed his arms as Tucker raised an eyebrow.
Tucker, never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how ill advised or clearly Tom was goading him into something foolish, took a few steps back and launched himself upwards.
He missed by a mile, stumbling as his booted feet touched down again.
Tom imitated the Mianite champion’s earlier laughter and Tucker shoved him in the chest in lieu of a more mature response. The zombie champion lost his footing and sprawled ungracefully in the dirt. Tucker cackled harshly before yelping as Tom lunged in his direction, swiping for the other champion’s ankles.
“Are you five?” Sonja bemoaned as Tucker scampered behind her.
“Yeah Tucker, are you five?” Tom parroted, strafing from side to side in hopes of spooking Tucker out from behind the other Mianite follower so he could give chase again.
The renowned champion of Mianite rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as if he somehow had the moral high ground despite still taking cover behind his girlfriend. “Oh my god shut up, you suck.”
“We’re going to wake someone-” Waglington started before the Mianite and Dianite champion’s bickering cut him off again.
Jordan shot him a sympathetic look but otherwise made no move to get involved or resolve the issue. He was busy discretely peeking into darkened windows. And checking various barrels and crates on nearby porches of a few homesteads outside the gate. To be frank it wasn’t very discreet at all and Waglington was concerned that someone would catch and reprimand them.
It would be a shame if this town’s first impression of them was Tom and Tucker fighting like children while Jordan snooped through their stuff. He opened his mouth again to repeat his concerns but the sight of a swaying lantern making its way towards their sorry group had his jaw closing with a snap.
Too late, they were screwed.
“Welcome!” a man-- a doppelganger to Tom--welcomed them. He carried a bright lantern that had all blinded for a moment as he held it up. “Welcome your good selves to the tranquil city of Ihatchu.”
The very familiar looking stranger beamed warmly at them, apparently having missed their misbehavior, or at least was decent enough not to comment on it.
“Alternates again?” Tucker muttered.
“My name is SkeleTom,” the man continued on oblivious to Tucker’s comment. “And I think it’s an absolute delight to have fresh faces in our humble town.” Jordan was cautiously eying what he now deducted was Tom’s alternate for a sign of trouble. Tom, too, was gazing his alternate up and down warily.
“Skeleton?” Tom questioned.
“On the inside,” SkeleTom chirped. “My--you look a lot like me.” Tom looked uncomfortable being stared at that critically, but SkeleTom’s gaze moved on. “In fact--all of you look very close to my friends,” SkeleTom said in a sort of surprise. He motioned them inside the gates and Sonja looked him over. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, which was a good sign. His eyes were brown and blue, heterochromatic. His shirt depicted a skeleton’s rib-cage and his pink jorts were snug, hugging his long legs--legs a few inches longer than their resident Dianitee’s.  
Wag’s eyes lingered on SkeleTom’s legs in disbelief, eyes reluctantly drawn to the stark pink jorts. He forced himself to look up. SkeleTom was a dead ringer for their Tom without a doubt, despite the lack of green pigmentation. It was quite different from Mot who looked like a separate person entirely. These two could have been twins. The SkeleTom fellow was far less aggressive than Tom had ever been in his life. His welcome held none of the impending chaos Tom’s had. .
They followed the bobbing of SkeleTom’s lantern mostly in silence, Tucker and Tom having put their argument aside over the curious appearance of another alternate. The streets were dark, aside from a few sparsely placed streetlights. The windows were black mirrors, void like qualities collapsing the buildings into them--their details vanished among the shadows.
SkeleTom showed them into a bed and breakfast and lit the torches inside with his lantern and flint. Tucker had flopped onto a bed and groaned happily. “I’m so glad to lay in a real bed again.” Tucker kicked off his boots and shoved his head into the pillow. SkeleTom just grinned at them as they took it in.
“It’s free?” Tom asked. He was lingering in the doorway, judging the state of their lodgings.
“Yes, just don’t go breaking anything,” SkeleTom commented. “Honey wouldn’t like that.”
“Is Honey the owner?” Jordan asked studiously sitting on the edge of a bed. SkeleTom shook his head. He rested his fingers in his belt loops.
“She’s the law-enforcement around here.” Tom snorted and SkeleTom fixed him with a look. “I’d do your best not to get on her bad side. She can be one of the swiftest forces in all of the land--she’s Mianite’s champion,” SkeleTom advised. Sonja looked up in surprise and interest.
“My alternate is Mianite’s champion?” she asked. Tucker looked over at her in surprise over her interest and SkeleTom nodded.
“She’s the most feared and respected woman to ever grace the lands. I wouldn’t dream of committing a crime in her presence,” SkeleTom said with complete seriousness. Jordan was staring at him in disbelief.
“You don’t do crime?” Jordan asked.
“Heavens no!” SkeleTom expressed.
Tom let out a snort. “Great--this is the worst world we’ve been to.” Sonja fixed him with a glare and Jordan smiled.
“That’s great to hear,” Jordan said and turned his attention to SkeleTom. He threw the next comment somewhat over his shoulder at Tom. “Glad to see someone more reasonable.”
“Shut your face, Sparklez,” Tom muttered. He stepped in front of Jordan and jabbed a finger into SkeleTom’s chest. “You’re lying--you’re just as evil as I am.” SkeleTom cocked his head to the side and smiled, unintimidated.
“I do bake a mean batch of Monster cookies,” he chirped.
“I like cookies,” Jordan piped up, and SkeleTom peaked around Tom at Jordan.
“Great--I’ll make you all a batch--I love baking for people,” SkeleTom offered. Tom scoffed and crossed his arms.
“Kiss-up,” Tom muttered. “So--let me get this straight. No one here is a prankster? Do you all follow Mianite or something?”
Everyone thought back to Dagrun and its forced monotheism despairingly.
“I follow Dianite,” SkeleTom said. “However, the Ianite champion, Capt Capt--is one of the most notorious and devilish pranksters. He’s the only one who evades the law.” Waglington mouthed ‘Capt Capt’ in disbelief. “He might be your alternate, Jordan--was it?” Jordan nodded. SkeleTom winked at him, “it’s nice to meet a much saner and more eager version of him.” Tom looked at the two disgusted, but his eyes glimmered at the news of Jordan’s alternate.
Tucker who was sprawling on the bed chuckled. “So Jordan is Tom here, and Tom’s Jordan here. Looks like our alternates are just traded personalities of us,” Tucker commented. Sonja snorted.
“As if you were the law?”
“Hey!”
“I’ll just make friends with Capt whatever his name was,” Tom muttered.
“Capt Capt isn’t much for friends,” SkeleTom warned.
“Whatever,” Tom dismissed, staring at SkeleTom in annoyance. “Jordan--you want to go with me tomorrow hunting for supplies and mining,” Tom asked. Jordan turned his head and considered it.
“Sure thing,” Jordan said, always eager to jump headfirst into a new world and explore new technologies.
SkeleTom didn’t seem deterred by Tom’s rudeness and instead listened to them hash out morning plans ambivalently.
“Don’t you want to learn more about our fair city first? I know we’d certainly like to hear more about you.”
“Yeah sure, speaking of--what’s my alternate?” Tucker questioned.
“A farmer--the best farmer and businessman!”
“Fantastic,” Tucker dryly commented.
“Oh you’ll like him, everyone does.” SkeleTom reassured, missing the reasoning behind Tucker’s disappointment. He was clearly hoping for something more badass, but it seemed Sonja had gotten lucky on that end. She seemed quite pleased with it, actually.
“I’d love to meet the others, SkeleTom,” she smiled kindly, “and learn more about the city as well.” She had intentionally skirted around pronouncing the name for fear of butchering it. The spelling on the sign and what SkeleTom had said didn’t exactly line up. It was one of many questions for tomorrow.
“Delightful!” He cheered, mismatched eyes twinkling. “I’ll inform the others of your arrival first thing and we can offer a tour! I guarantee you’ve never seen a city like ours.”
Tucker shrugged. “Not a very high bar honestly given the places we’ve been subjected to.”
“Well, we’ll be sure to raise it nonetheless.” SkeleTom assured, motioning with his lantern as a sign of wrapping up the conversation. “I won’t bother you any further, rest well and I’ll come for you in the morning.”
Jordan and Sonja said friendly goodbyes as the alternate departed, while Tom scowled heavily.
“I hate him.” The Dianite champion hissed as soon as the door shut behind SkeleTom.
“He’s nice.” Jordan commented tiredly. He was curling up in his own bed now, folding his jacket over his nightstand. Tom eyed him disdainfully, standing at the foot of Jordan’s bed to make his point.
“Exactly.”
Jordan just shook his head and closed his eyes.
Waglington sighed, stretching out in the bed he’d claimed without removing his cloak. “He didn’t even mention mine.”
Sonja cocked her head, combing through her hair with her fingers in preparation for the night’s sleep. “Who was your alternate on Ruxomar anyway.”
“Farmer Steve wasn’t it?” Jordan offered.
“Well that makes quite a few things strange.” The wizard commented with a chuckle.
Tucker looked pained, flopping onto his side towards the wall. “Nope, not thinking about that--goodnight everyone. See you tomorrow for the touring bullshit.”
----------------------------
They were woken cruelly early to SkeleTom’s cheerful visage. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the tops of the surrounding buildings yet and the alternate was already beaming. He was offering a tray of coffee cakes that he had no doubt woken even earlier to bake fresh.
“I didn’t know if any of you had allergies, so I kept them nut free just to be safe,” he chipperly said. He held out the coffee cake tray for people to take.Simultaneously, he offered a specially wrapped plate of cookies to Jordan while Sonja and Wag dug blearily into the admittedly stellar breakfast.
He sleepily thanked SkeleTom, possessively guarding the treats from Tom who had no regard for personal space and had crawled onto Jordan’s bed, making grabby hands at the plate.
Jordan slapped his hands away, “Be nicer to SkeleTom and maybe he’ll make cookies for you too.”
"I only had time to make one batch, I apologize,” SkeleTom said to Tom who withdrew from Jordan reluctantly to look up at the two bright and cheery eyes peering at him. Tom eyed Jordan’s batch of cookies.
“Sparklez will share with me,” Tom decided.
“I will not,” Jordan countered. He had stowed the cookies on top of a vanity where he’d balanced precariously on the edge of a chair to do so. He was certain if Tom wanted the cookies he’d at least hear Tom fall over once trying to get them.
“Do make sure to try the cookies and tell me how you like them--I’m always so happy when people absolutely love them,” SkeleTom gushed. Tom threw his pillow at his alternate in annoyance. Without even glancing at Tom he caught the pillow and placed it on the edge of Jordan’s bed without a trace of malice. Tom threw his other pillow at Jordan who did frustratedly return the pillow as he tried to lace his boots up.
Beside the quarreling pair, Tucker was still pretending to be fast asleep and Sonja and Wag were discussing their takeaways from the last world. “So, think about how the last place we went to turned out. A warm welcoming city--then it turned into one god-worshipping area with capital punishment for other god following, a whole ill Ianite saga, and then evil usurpers--I think despite how nice he’s been,” Sonja inclined her head in the direction of SkeleTom, “I think we should be extremely careful.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Wag said. “Well--in any case. The gods will likely be around and we can speak with them about issues.”
Tucker sat up reluctantly, glowering at SkeleTom who had sat the tray of coffee cakes down on a table. The scent of them was alluring and he hastily stumbled out of bed and began throwing his clothes on again, muttering curses. “Mianite needs to save me from here--my allergies are going to kill me,” Tucker said. He sounded very nasally congested and when Sonja offered a look of sympathy he blinked blearily through tearing red-rimmed eyes.
“Oh, he looks gross,” Wag murmured.
“I’m sure we can find an old medication for you or something,” SkeleTom offered. “I wouldn’t want you to have a bad time here on account of allergies.”
Jordan had managed to get dressed despite his ongoing war with Tom. His hair was beyond saving, but he still ran his hand through it, trying to flatten it. He snagged a coffee cake and used his other hand to catch the crumbs. Before he could take a bite he did acknowledge the idea of the gods. “I don’t want to admit it--but according to the earlier cycle...Dianite was evil. Mianite was evil next...and we’ve heard my alternate was kind of evil…”
“Guess we can spend all our time kicking Jordan’s ass,” Tom gleefully suggested. He slammed his pillow into Jordan’s face causing him to drop the coffee cake and then withdrew the pillow before Jordan could take it.
“I’m not going to be evil,” Jordan said, “But thanks for the concern.” He spared a sad funeral-glance for the fallen coffee cake and then grabbed the one he figured was going to be Tom’s and cast a glare at Tom who stuck his tongue out. He was the least dressed of them now and refused to get dressed. “SkeleTom,” Jordan said looking to him, “is that the case? Ianite’s evil…?”
SkeleTom thought on it. He sighed sadly. “Yes...we couldn’t have seen it coming, but she was...disturbed. She tried this whole thing to turn the world evil. We managed to stop her--but this city once built to the gods has been emptied by their fear of her,” he said. He put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “But trust me, Capt Capt won’t hurt any of you if you stick close to us. Speaking of which--Honey should be meeting us here.”
“So, Capt Capt kills people?” Tucker asked. He was eating his coffee cake unaffected. He had spoke with his mouth half-full and SkeleTom eyed him with disdain, but his chipper smile returned regardless.
“Not anymore, although his pranks can be a little too lethal. Honey and him have worked on their differences and despite his desire for fun, he won’t push her too much. But I must caution--Capt Capt is a voracious liar. He does love to manipulate and I wouldn’t suggest spending any time alone with him,” SkeleTom cautioned. He eyed Tom again who was finally starting to get dressed. Tom looked up at him and shook his head.
“Let’s get going then,” Wag said. “I’d like some daylight hours when we’re done to explore on my own.”
SkeleTom smiled. “We’ll try our hardest---although it may take the whole day.”
“Can I opt out?” Tom asked.
“No,” Jordan answered for him.
They spent a few more moments munching on SkeleTom’s breakfast while waiting for Tom to get ready. And when it became obvious he was intentionally dragging his feet they all got up to leave, incentivising him to get his act together or be left behind.
Jordan had a feeling that’s what he wanted though, so while Tom was dragging his feet through putting his jacket on Jordan strong-armed him out the door, ignoring Tom’s attempt to cling to the door frame.
Though the early dawn light was gray and muted it offered the five heroes a much better look at their surroundings than the night prior. The bed and breakfast seemed to be situated between a boutique and a small oddities shop with a large open area, presumably meant for a marketplace, about half a block away. The best way to describe the style of build was “quaint” as the earth tone brick and wood supports gave off a small town feel despite the scale of the city. Waglington thought it matched the exposed wood trussing inside the bed and breakfast quite nicely. Overall everything was quite prim and proper, with manicured shrubbery and pristine streets.
Speaking of prim and proper, a woman who exuded such attributes was waiting for them at parade rest on the walkway a few paces from the door. She was dressed in shining armor and carried herself in such an authoritative way that meant she could only be the Honey SkeleTom had spoken of.
Sonja looked her over curiously, straightening her own rumpled clothes in slight embarrassment as everyone spilled out onto the covered porch. Honey was tall, taller than Sonja for sure, and her shoulders were broad and stiff. Her eyes were stern, creased slightly at the edges in an indication that she was older than Sonja, but the small rounded animal ears on her head proved that she was indeed Sonja’s alternate self.
Upon spotting her, SkeleTom bounded over and threw his arm around her shoulders, though she was a bit too tall to make it look comfortable.
“Good morning, Honey!” he said cheerfully. She seemed to be only tolerating his presence, “Meet our doppelgangers.”
She nodded curtly, eyeing them all as if they had already been suspected of a crime. Jordan hoped their justice system was less corrupt than Dagrun’s if this was how strict their law enforcement was. Tom was eyeing an obvious abundance of metal sitting in a crate and Jordan pinched his arm. The zombie mimicked biting him.
“Welcome to Ihatchu,” she said in an unwelcoming tone, “my name is Honey Badger, as I’m sure SkeleTom has already told you. Would you care for your tour?”
“Not that there’s a choice, right?” Tucker grumbled, still wiping sleep from his irritated eyes.
Honey Badger regarded him coldly. “No, there is not.”
“Ah, your alternate is very personable, Sonja.” Waglington stage whispered.
“You should catch her when she’s off duty,” SkeleTom interjected, “she’s much less prickly.”
Everyone found that hard to believe. Sonja ended up helping Jordan keep an eye on Tom, but soon she saw Jordan’s eyes roaming to unattended technology with feverish intent and had to start reminding him too that if he thought to helping himself they were screwed.
The tour was long. Every single important stop Honey would give a brief description of, and SkeleTom would add in a long and overflowing anecdote relating to any time he spent there. The only relief they got was when someone cut in before he could speak.
“Here is the town square,” Honey said and Sonja caught a sparkle of pride in her eyes.
It was a grand area, spacious and well decorated. All the buildings were tall, multiple stories with intricate brickwork, elaborate window sills, and tasteful wooden accents befitting a town square. There was a bank, a courthouse, a town hall, as well as what looked to be a humble Mianite temple. It was nondescript and not very large but Tucker’s red rimmed eyes lit up at the sight, eager to make some prayers that would result in him being whisked away from the allergy hell he’d landed himself in.
Lounging on the steps of it was a short, dark haired man, picking at the grout in between some stone slabs with a curved dagger. He was lying back across the stairs, tracking the arrivals with sharp green eyes. Honey stopped them short just as Tucker’s foot nearly crossed a trip wire.
“Aw, Honey--ruining my fun this early?” the voice was low and deep and Jordan could hear the oaky pirate accent he sometimes wished he had. Beside him, Tom was staring at Capt Capt with a look of raw appreciation. Jordan elbowed him.
“Don’t give my alternate that look,” Jordan hissed.
“Sparklez, he’s kind of hot--in a pirate way.”
“He has my face,” Jordan muttered.
“Did I ever say your face wasn’t hot?” Tom wiggled his eyebrows. Jordan sighed and he saw his alternate narrowing his eyes at him. The man gripped the hilt of his cutlass and peered up at Jordan. He was 5ft 5’, but his long jacket and steel-toed boots were stained with blood. What he lacked in size, his eyes made up for. The creases and sun-freckles across his face dotted the area near his eyes with the impression he had only just stepped off a ship. A ship where he had spent days peering into telescopes or into the stormy sky, bracing for death and destruction.
“Let me kill that one at least,” he grumbled, staring into Jordan’s soul. The green of his eyes darkened like fog curling off water in desolate still seas.  “I hate duplicates. Only one of me across space and time.”
Jordan couldn’t shake the chill running up and down his arms. “Sit back down, Capt,” Honey had pulled her rapier out.
“It’s Captain Captain,” he muttered darkly. “I can help with the tour--don’t I love being courteous,” he said sarcastically.
Tucker whistled lowly and stepped over the trip wire. “Jeez, Jordan you call yourself a captain--but look at this, man…?”
“Captain Captain,” the man corrected. He said nothing more as he examined the lot of them, eyes lingering hatefully on Jordan. Jordan tried to be friendly despite the threat on his life. “Well, hi--I’m Jordan.”
“You’re dead is what you are,” Captain-redundant muttered.
SkeleTom gasped dramatically. “Oh Capt, don’t be that way.” He rested his arm on Captain Captain’s head. “Capt is short and full of anger.”
“Captain Captain,” Captain Captain muttered and kicked SkeleTom’s shin, causing the other man to hop away, missing the trip wire. SkeleTom happily returned to Honey’s side, leaning on the stern woman and looking Captain Captain over with amusement. Sonja exchanged looks with Wag.
“He’s something,” she murmured.
“Something strange,” Wag agreed.
Tom was still staring mystified at Captain Captain who, despite his offer, had not decided to join them on their tour. Instead he settled back down on the steps, chewing on a cigarette and fixing his long wavy hair from where SkeleTom had mused it up with his physical contact. Tom would have tripped on the trip wire if it wasn’t for Wag grabbing his shirt collar and hefting him over it. “Oh no you don’t.”
“That’s my new best friend,” Tom told him.
Captain Captain looked the other way as if he couldn't be bothered with any of them. Tom tried to wink at him. The surly double didn’t acknowledge him.
“We’ll go see the farm next!”
“Yes,” Honey hadn’t put away her sword. “To add onto the rules I went over earlier: Unauthorized food distribution and creation is not allowed--Mericho is our supplier of food. If you are in need of money, I suggest taking on a number of jobs or if working for us is not a savory idea, I suggest you can go on mining expeditions--so as long as you follow the rules I referred to earlier. If you are in need of a reminder, feel free to ask during acceptable daylight hours. No mining past city limits. Mining shafts must not breach occupied residences. Mining shafts must be approved by city ordinance. Mining after sunset is strictly forbidden.”
“Hey, can we get a modification on some of those rules?” Tucker questioned.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then I’ll just break them,” Tom muttered. SkeleTom overheard and shot him a nervous smile.
“Honey breaks hands for rule infractions.”
“I do,” Honey confirmed.
“Those rules are kind of ridiculous,” Wag stated.
“If you’d like to petition to have a rule changed you’d need to have lived in the city for a designated amount of time--one month-- and submit your appeal in writing with neatly outlined reasons for the desired change,” Honey stated. The group of friends exchanged looks. Jordan opened his mouth, thought about it, and then carefully chose his words.
“We appreciate the hospitality, but we are new. Could we have just a week to mine at night and possibly further away from the city. We’d be willing to have an escort--but just for that week? Then we could stick to the rules?”
The law enforcement woman came to a halt. She looked to SkeleTom and then tapped pensively on her rapier hilt. “...You can have three days,” Honey decided. “I or SkeleTom will accompany you. Or the both of us if you desire to split into separate groups. Should you act of poor character, I shall revoke it.”
Tom had crossed his arms and was looking on making a break for it and Tucker looked to be a second from joining him. Sonja whispered something to Tucker along the lines of ‘if you die, it’s your own fault.’
“Thank-you,” Jordan decided.
The rest of them gave him a filthy look, even Sonja couldn’t hold back her unhappiness. SkeleTom, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He clapped his hands together. “I’m so glad you’re happy to fit in.”
“Happy,” Tom muttered. “Only one of us is an absolute brown-noser.”
Wag coughed and muttered Jordan’s name as if he was being subtle. Tucker sniggered and Sonja cracked a smile, but quickly let it fall as Jordan gave her a look.
“I’m negotiating,” Jordan argued softly.
“Oh absolutely!” Tom mocked SkeleTom’s voice. He made an obscene gesture. “Negotiating to suck up to them. What’s next, gonna ask to lick their boots?”
Honey had her back to the group, but Sonja saw her ears twitching. She was listening. She didn’t let it be known and Sonja felt a seed of worry. SkeleTom was more obvious. He was walking backwards, his eyes sparkling with delight as the group of men quarreled. Jordan’s voice pitching higher the more distressed he got. Wag making hand gestures with Tom as Jordan got too flustered and Tucker quietly laughing at it all. She seemed to be the only one watching the alternates...well, second set of alternates--they did know Mot and Steve and the presumed living alternates in their old world. So did that make this lot alternate alternates?
She might have been reading into it too much. Did it matter if these alternates were judging them? Their group dynamic was chaotic at best compared to these alternates’. But she caught SkeleTom’s eye and he just winked and turned back around, his slight skip unfaltering. If they were bothered by her watching…they didn’t show it.
Jordan had enough of their teasing and joined Sonja towards the front as Tucker, Tom and Wag fell back to continue their taunts. Jordan cast a vexed look over his shoulder. Sonja shook her head, “Ignore them.”
“Don’t worry, Jordan--or is it Sparklez?” SkeleTom had joined them, walking in-step with Sonja easily.
“It’s Jordan,” Jordan sighed.
“Sparklez!” Tom corrected from the back of the group and SkeleTom lit up, mismatched eyes creasing mirthfully at the edges as if that was the funniest joke in the world. Jordan didn’t get it.
“You’ve got something in common with Capt at least.”
“Yeah, I dunno about that. Kind of seems like he wants to kill me,” Jordan cast a look over his shoulder again to see if the pirate was still in sight, only to see Tom making a face at him. He sighed. SkeleTom traded places with Sonja and threw his arm over Jordan’s shoulder and pulled him close.
“Aw, cheer-up. I appreciate your willingness to accept our culture,” SkeleTom said.
“Thanks,” Jordan said. “But I think I’ll have to combat with Honey on some of those rules.”
“You won’t win,” Honey assured him. “But if you all behave I can see to expanding some privileges. There’s been very few people to govern over for awhile, after all,” Honey offered. Jordan sighed in relief. He had for a moment doubted himself, but he knew he wasn’t a brown-noser. He was just trying to be civil.
“I can’t promise they’ll behave,” Jordan muttered, jabbing a finger behind him.
“Suck one, Sparklez,” Tom jibed. He heard Tucker and Wag laughing.
“We’ll evaluate on a case-by-case basis,” Honey amended. Sonja frowned.
“As much as I appreciate that, I also don’t…” Honey looked to her questioningly. Sonja tucked her hair behind her shoulders and unconsciously crossed her arms. “I do like my friends and we’re not from a land with that strict of laws. Please do not kill them for it.”
Honey nodded curtly but didn’t otherwise respond. Sonja was unsure whether to take that as an affirmation or not. She let her arms uncross and dangle at her side. She tried not to let her thoughts bother her, but she kept looking to Jordan. She wanted to express that ‘You really caved too quickly’, but felt it would be rude with SkeleTom standing right there.
They were growing closer to the farms and Honey slowed the group, sidling up alongside a portion of the fence with a gate. SkeleTom disengaged from Jordan to greet the three dogs that had come to alert at the edge of the field as they grew near. They looked vicious, but at the sight of Tom’s alternate they happily wagged their tails and slobbered all over him as he bent down to pet them. Honey whistled sharply and one of the dogs detached and went sprinting into the fields to find something--or ,rather, someone.
Tucker stayed far back, eyeing the grass with disdain while Wag curiously looked over the crops. Tom had wandered towards the front and was looking between SkeleTom and Jordan suspiciously “You know I was just messing with you, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Jordan dismissed and walked away from Tom. Tom looked at Sonja in disbelief.
“God, Sparklez is an emotional bitch,” Tom muttered.
“And you aren’t?” Sonja countered. Tom looked shocked, but the expression fell away and he pettily pulled on a piece of wheat. He stuck his tongue out.
“Not as much as he is,” he pulled a piece of wheat free and was surprised when a dog came tearing at him, ripping into his pant-leg. “Ow, ow! Down Fido! Down!” SkeleTom looked up at Tom, but did nothing to call the other dog back. He was happily giving the calmer dog a belly rub. Jordan was looking at farming equipment and Honey didn’t seem to care Tom was being murdered. It ended up being Sonja’s job to convince the dog to let go.  Tom limped to join Tucker, turning up his nose and refusing to go any nearer to the crops as a man in faded blue overalls and light brown hair approached them.
“Well, I’ll be,” Mericho grinned. “Looks like we got strangers to the land after all this time,” he said amicably and he offered a hand to Sonja, the nearest. “The name’s Mericho.”
His smile was bright and cheerful, complete with perfectly straight white teeth, glimmering sky blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He looked as classically handsome as his accent had lazy twang.
“Sonja.” She greeted.
Jordan joined her and shook the man’s hand. “Jordan.”
The other three declined to come forward and so Sonja reluctantly just gestured in their direction. “Tucker’s allergic to grass. Tom’s scared of the dogs. And Wag’s the one completely oblivious.”
“Am not,” Wag called back.
“Allergies huh?” Mericho pondered with a low whistle and a tug on his overall straps, “SkeleTom, d' you reckon you have anything for that unfortunate fellow?” He ignored the dog comment, no doubt noticing the sorry state of Tom’s leg but most likely assuming he deserved it. Judging by the way the animals obediently heeled at his approached they were obviously well trained.
“Reckon I do,” he called back, mimicking Mericho’s accent and choice of diction jokingly. “I’ll have to look around for a bit though, haven’t run into this problem in a while.”
Tucker sucked in a tired breath and wiped his runny nose discreetly, looking miserable. Sonja gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to the idyllic farmer with a question.
“So, you four are the only people who live here? It’s such a big city.”
“‘Fraid so. Built it with the gods’ best intentions, but after the first-wave of people and Ianite and what have you, none came. Too many scared off by Cap’n Devil Boots over there,” Mericho said, and gestured to where Captain Captain had followed them and was now aiming a crossbow at the back of Jordan’s head. At the call-out he lowered it, muttering his full name. Tom looked at him in awe. He flashed a thumbs up to Captain Captain but the alternate scowled at him. “Those that did live here eventually had to retire away elsewhere. Cap’n No Fun is a fearsome little man.”
“Captain Captain,” he corrected. He leveled the crossbow again at Jordan’s chest and Jordan stared at him from where the pirate sat on a haybale in disbelief. “And ye be forgetting how you all played a part in it?”
The other three were strangely silent and Sonja caught a motion from SkeleTom. But when she looked to him he was smiling sadly. He shook his head at Sonja as if to say ‘he’s hopeless.’ Honey shook her head. “Don’t pay him mind, he’s like poison here. I’d see him face the law if he wasn’t too damn slippery,” she let a rare curse slip.
“And our good friend!” SkeleTom added.
“He sure is despite his flaws,” Mericho said.
“Does anyone notice he keeps trying to kill Jordan?” Wag muttered.
“He won’t do such a thing,” Honey stated. “Now will you, Captain Captain?”
He looked grateful that she said his full name and reluctantly sighed. With a small nod he lowered the crossbow. “If he falls in a trap it’s not my fault. Ye scurvy rats,” he muttered. “See you roasting on a spit with crossbow bolts through your neck and arms, you foul double.”
Jordan swallowed uneasily and SkeleTom stood and wrapped an arm around Sonja and Jordan. “Now now, Capt Capt--let’s treat our guests with some love.”
“Captain Captain,” he spat. “You saccharine sack of shit.”
“Oh, he’s a sour pus,” SkeleTom murmured and pecked Jordan on the cheek before standing beside Mericho who passed him a bag of apples. Jordan rubbed his cheek in slight shock and Tom narrowed his eyes from where he stood by Tucker. He looked to Captain Captain and attempted contact again.
“He’s evil, isn’t he?”
“Which one, lad?” Captain Captain humored.
“SkeleTom,” Tom said.
“Yup,” Captain Captain said and Honey shot him a look. “Gives ye diabetes,” he amended and Sonja didn’t miss Honey’s fed-up scowl. The moment of relative civility Captain Captain was upholding was nice--but was ruined by him immediately shooting a crossbow bolt at Tom’s feet--who yelped and, on his bad leg, was sent toppling to the ground.
“Hey!”
“My hand slipped,” Captain Captain offered. “I’ll walk ‘em back.”
“You will not,” Honey corrected. “We’re having a talk. Tonight.”
“The four of us?” Captain Captain asked amused.
Sonja couldn’t help her ears perking up. She was curious. Even Jordan was looking at them. But Honey leveled them all with a look. “It’s a private matter. We respect yours--you’ll respect ours.” SkeleTom nodded.
Mericho smiled sympathetically and flashed a warm grin. “I’ll send along some food with SkeleTom who’ll escort y’all back. Heard he wants to see Cap’n’s alternate try some cookies. You should see how his face glows when someone loves his cookies.”
SkeleTom slapped Mericho’s arm in obvious playful happiness. “You’re too nice, Meri.”
“Can’t help but be nice to a pretty man like you,” Mericho teased.
“Blech,” Tom muttered. He stumbled to his feet and leaned on Tucker who immediately pushed him off, staring queasily at Mericho and SkeleTom. “We aren’t that close,” Tucker muttered.
“What? Scared of cooties?” Tom teased.
“I’m taken,” Tucker immediately said.
“Relax,” Tom rolled his eyes up, “You’re my friend. We aren’t going to start sharing gossip and holding hands.”
“Not with how many times you haven’t washed yours,” Tucker said.
“I saw you once just use hand sanitizer after--” Tucker covered his mouth as Sonja turned towards them. She looked at Tucker questioningly and he just shook his head. His nose was still dribbling. He let go of Tom to wipe his nose and Tom looked at him disgusted. Wag was poking around, but one wave of the rapier from Honey and he let go off the tractor he was beginning to operate for fun. He dropped down and followed after the group, idling next to Jordan who was purposely avoiding Tom.
“Jordan,” Tom whined.
“No,” Jordan replied.
“Bitch.”
“Jackass,” Jordan returned.
“You love me.”
“Uh-huh,” Jordan murmured.
“Admit it,” Tom pressed and dropped back to bug Jordan.
“Are you five?” Jordan questioned. “I am not playing this with you. Go bug Tucker.”
“Tucker’s covered in snot,” Tom said. He thought of SkeleTom and tried to wrap his arm around Jordan, but Jordan immediately shoved him. Tom recovered, but he stared at Jordan in dismay. Wag walked between them to keep them from fighting.
“Tom, grow up,” Jordan told him.
“Loosen up,” Tom responded. His thoughts went south and he opened his mouth to add on, when SkeleTom butted in. Tom glowered at him, but SkeleTom was oblivious.
“I must get all of your favorite cookie flavors.”
“I like Snickerdoodle,” Wag said.
“I can’t taste shit right now,” Tucker bemoaned.
“I’ll have whatever,” Sonja said.
“And you Tom?”
“I’ll have your face smashed in,” Tom said.
“Ah,” SkeleTom’s smile crinkled his eyes. He stage whispered in Jordan’s ear. “No wonder he wants to be friends with Capt Capt!”
“Jordan’s my bitch, he doesn’t answer to strangers,” Tom suggested.
“You know, I’m considering not going with you tomorrow,” Jordan decided before answering SkeleTom, “I like peanut butter.” Jordan mouthed a countdown from three as Tom looked to him with wide glittering black eyes.
“Sparklez! That’s unfair!” Tom gasped.
“Yup--I’m ditching you.”
“Sparklez! You're traitoring me! For him!”
“I’d love to have you around--but I think I’m babysitting you guys while you go mining,” SkeleTom said. “However, you can be in my group.”
“Traitor,” Tom hissed.
“Why am I between you two again? Ah yes, so I can get spit on by Tom,” Wag murmured. Tom rubbed his mouth self-conscious. Sure--part of his mouth didn’t close from being a zombie, but he didn’t drool that much.
Sonja tuned out their bickering and Tucker’s sniffling, turning instead to look back on the fields they were leaving behind. Mericho was leaning on a fencepost and waved good naturedly as he caught her gaze. Honey and Captain Captain didn’t offer such friendly goodbyes and simply glowered at their retreating backs. She wondered what a private meeting between such polarized characters would be like but didn’t expect an invitation anytime soon.
Despite SkeleTom and Mericho welcoming them with open arms, Sonja noted that they seemed a little on edge. Containing Captain Captain’s murderous streak was probably stressful but she figured it was more along the lines of being apprehensive about new arrivals. The lone city in the sea of plains was picture perfect, and she didn’t entirely trust her friends not to mess it up either-- so in a way she understood Honey’s strict demeanor.
The sheriff's gaze still burned the back of her neck, however, and so Sonja set her eyes outward across the prairies beyond the city limits. The grand tour had taken all day, her sore feet alone murdering her. In the dying evening light she caught pinpricks of light in the distance.
| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT
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douxreviews · 5 years
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Supernatural - ‘Moriah’ Review
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"Writers lie."
Holy wow. Pun intended.
Did they just make God the ultimate final season bad guy? Did they really? How meta is that?
Before I get into the heavy stuff, let's start with the funny. That explosion of harmful truth at the facial recognition company was classic comic Supernatural from beginning to end – from the stolen yogurt to the stapler queen to the President's deal with Crowley. After all of the recent grimdark, I most certainly did not expect such hilarity to ensue. "I'm Dean Winchester and I'm looking for the Devil's son. This badge is fake." Liar Liar on steroids.
And I totally did not expect Chuck to show up, even after the set-up of Castiel's prayer not that long ago. At first I thought this was a good thing, of course, because Chuck showing up is usually a good thing. Not this time.
Yes, we've been told over and over that Chuck is all about the storytelling. He's the one that writes paperback books in his underwear. It's funny (interesting, not funny ha-ha) how Dean, Sam and Castiel had pretty much had it with Chuck, all at the same time. Note their exasperated expressions as Chuck did everything he could to sell his new magical plot twist gun that could kill anything but would also kill the one who pulled the trigger. Everyone remember the Colt?
But what gave me chills was when they were all in the cemetery ("Swan Song," anyone?), Dean was standing over a kneeling Jack with that gun in his hand, and Chuck had this absorbed little grin on his face. As I said in the opener, holy wow. The Winchesters aren't real people to Chuck, after all. They're just characters in his favorite show. We sort of knew that, without really considering the implications. Archangel Michael told us that Chuck tosses worlds away like failed versions of a book, and he wasn't lying. How about that.
God is their showrunner. He has literally been playing with Dean and Sam their entire lives. They're chess pieces to him, and nothing more. Chuck actually offered to bring back Mary if Dean killed Jack, like, sacrifice your knight and pawn, I'll give you back your queen. When Dean refused to kill Jack and Sam (understandably) lost his temper and shot Chuck with the magic gun, that was it. His squirrels were fighting back. How dare they.
Story's over. Welcome to the End. That final scene as the darkness fell, the monsters rose from hell and the dead from their graves was set to the song, "God Was Never on Your Side." I thought this conflict over Jack would blast Dean and Castiel apart, with Sam in the middle, but instead, this episode ended with the three of them back to back to back, ready to fight off the dead together. So at least there's that.
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With the last season approaching, I've been thinking lately that the perfect end for the series would be for Dean and Sam to knock on Mary's white door and join their parents in their special heaven (there'll be peace when you are done). But is Heaven even a thing any more? Will it still exist when the series ends?
If this world of Supernatural isn't what we've been led to believe, what about the Empty? That last shot of Jack was with Billie and the Black Cloud of Lucifer (was that Lucifer?) who made the creepiest smiley face at Jack. Does Billie have the answer to all of this? We've been told that Death can reap God. Can she?
Bits:
— Title musings and various names: "Moriah" is the place where Abraham was supposed to sacrifice Isaac, like Dean was supposed to sacrifice Jack. That cemetery looked a lot like the apocalyptic season five finale. Chuck wanted to name the gun Hammurabi, or The Equalizer. And Amara is in Reno playing Keno.
— Mirror Universe, the name of the facial recognition software company, was just about perfect: a reminder of all of Chuck's discarded universes, as well as all of the alternate universe characters we've been meeting these days.
— Note that Jack was never a threat to Chuck. Jack also didn't kill his grandmother.
— Castiel was thinking that Lucifer's cage might contain Jack. That's actually a pretty good solution.
— Yet another mention of souls. Why is Chuck powerless to change or restore them? Must be important.
— Poor Celine Dion. She's the punchline of a joke, much like Barry Manilow.
— I loved how Chuck critiqued season seven with the Leviathans and season twelve with the British Men of Letters.
— "God Was Never on Your Side" is by Motorhead. Last week, Dean, Sam and Castiel were agents Kilmister, Clarke and Taylor.
— The reference to Crowley and the universe of squirrels reminded me of Moose and Squirrel. Is Crowley in the Empty, too?
— Rob Benedict's credit was at the end. Gold acting stars for Mr. Benedict, by the way. Or possibly "God acting stars." Playing God isn't exactly easy, especially when he's become such a complicated character.
Quotes, the Mostly Chuck edition:
Dean: "Nerds." Sam: "Takes one to know one." Dean: "What?" Sam: "You. Come on, man. You're always calling me a geek, but you know every word to every Led Zeppelin song backwards and forwards, you can discuss in detail every major rock drummer between '67 and '84 and… you watch Jeopardy every night." Dean: "Yeah, okay. But I'm nothing like this gaggle of Zuckerbergs."
Dean: "I'm Dean Winchester and I'm looking for the Devil's son. This badge is fake." That made me laugh like a loon.
Female newscaster: "In what was supposed to be a speech on farming subsidies, the president instead spent more than two hours disclosing his entire tax history, his deep ties to Russia and North Korea, and the, quote, demon deal he made with someone called Crowley. Back to you, Chet. Chet?" Male newscaster: (looks directly at her) "I love you. I have always loved you."
Dean: "When people can't lie, the internet gets real quiet."
Chuck: "I'm a writer. Lying's kind of what we do."
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Dean: (to Chuck) "Where the hell have you been?" Dean may be the only person I can think of who can look God in the eye and say something like that.
Chuck: "So! How's things? Okay, look, I get it. I'm the deus from the machina, and you have questions."
Sam: "Where have you been?" Chuck: "It's hard to explain. Everywhere and nowhere. Edge of the universe and beyond. And I saw Springsteen on Broadway. Man's a genius."
Newcaster: "… and it's been confirmed: the Queen of England is, in fact, a lizard." What episode is that from? I can't remember!
Chuck: "Look, the point is, the kid did all that with two words. What's next? He sneezes, and whoops, there goes India?"
Chuck: "Ugh. Billie. I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle porn. This new Death, she's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong." Echoing the fans again.
Sam: "So how many are there? How many other worlds or universes or realities, or whatever?" Chuck: "I don't know. Kinda lost count. Most of them are boring, one's in reverse, in one there's no yellow, one of them's just all squirrels." I'm thinking a world without shrimp.
Sam: "Do you watch us? When you're not here, are you watching us?" Chuck: "Yeah. (Sam gasps) I mean, you're my favorite show."
I could write a few more pages about this episode, but I think I'm done for now. And I am totally impressed. Four out of four squirrels, and what did you guys think?
Billie Doux has been reviewing Supernatural for so long that Dean and Sam Winchester feel like old friends. Courageous, adventurous, gorgeous old friends.
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esteliel · 6 years
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Les Mis Tecklenburg
Okay, the long overdue Les Mis Tecklenburg review, which might not be of much use to anyone else but I immediately forget things if I don't write them down so here's more than you probably wanted to know about this production.
The stage itself was amazing and so impressive, because it was HUGE, and they had built actual houses on it with basically two levels for people to stand/sing on. It was really impressive to look at though I'm not sure if it really added that much to the show, because it mostly meant that characters spent a lot of time running from one end of the stage to the other, and that it put characters on different levels when I feel like their actual positions don't reflect that (i.e. Javert spending some time surveying the town below from the highest point up by the cross when he is explicitly NOT above society but below/outside it, and Valjean as Madeleine dealing with the entire Fantine/factory girl fight while standing on the first floor of the factory above everyone else, when I feel that even as Madeleine he never was above people/never distanced himself via authority, but rather tried to keep his distance via escape by walks etc.)
At the front of the stage, there was a huge gap for the conductor, and both at the beginning, when Valjean receives his yellow passport, as well as during their encounter in the sewers, Valjean and Javert stood to each side of it, divided by this insurmountable gap as they faced each other, which on the other hand was using the stage symbolism perfectly! <3
As to the cast, they were generally good, I don't have complaints about a single actor (except for the kids, who were terrible with the exception of Sunday's little Cosette. I don't understand why professional productions don't go for slightly older kids. I don't even expect the quality of Broadway children, but these children were for the most part so horribly wooden that it was painful to watch. If you can't find a seven-year-old with at least a small amount of singing and acting experience, I promise that a twelve-year-old Gavroche will work just as well. :/)
The most important thing, I really, really enjoyed both Valjean and Javert. Valjean especially brought so much into it acting-wise, especially his first Soliloquy - he is so stunned by the bishop's compassion that there's a moment of genuine anger at the bishop for claiming that Valjean's soul exists/is important, and it was just one of the most emotional soliloquys I've ever seen. <3 He's also super cute with little Cosette, and after the Thénardier's inn, they stole that trick where he's dancing with little Cosette, and then behind a wall switch her with adult Cosette who continues to dance with Valjean to show the time skip, which made people laugh. Also Valjean brings little Cosette a red dress to wear instead of a black one, which adult Cosette is also wearing.
Javert was also fun - very focused, very driven, but without falling into that common trap of resorting to shouting or Angry Hammy Javert which was mainly what I got to see lately with Hume and Thaxton. It's just... so nice to sort of wipe the slate clean and see what sort of acting choices someone makes in a non-replica production, because it sometimes makes you realize that bits you hate but which you feel are unavoidable given the book are actually not. Like the Karlstad Thénardiers, who were so good and completely avoided that slapstick comedy route. Anyway, it was really refreshing to watch Kevin Tarte's Javert. I don't even think he did anything unusual acting-wise with Javert, but it was really solid and convincing acting and not a single moment where he took the easier path of Shouting instead of Acting.
Marius was very cute looks-wise, perhaps even a bit too cute because he didn't come across as awkward at all for the most part, but he was enjoyable to watch. Cosette looked way too old on the photos I'd seen but came across as perfectly fine on stage. Fantine was REALLY good, it's rare that I'm surprised by a Fantine's acting ability these days because they mostly tend to go the safe and boring routes, but Milica Jovanovic really pulled it off. I wasn't wowed by Eponine either but she was good too, just not anywhere close to my top 2 Eponines.
Even the Thénardiers were generally entertaining, though I feel like their slapstick routines would have grown boring just as quickly if I'd seen it more than twice. Thénardier had this bit which was hilarious my first evening, where during their negotiation with Valjean, he tries to sneeze into Valjean's coat, only Valjean pulls his coat away and so Thénardier sneezes into his own hands and then tries to wipe them first on Valjean, then on Mme T.'s boobs, but both give him such withering looks that he just gives up.
It was a bit less hilarious the second time around, and if I'd seen it thirty times, it probably would have ceased being funny pretty quickly, but alas that's not going to happen. (I did end up wishing I'd booked a third date...)
Random observations in a list because I've had this doc open for way too long already:
- OMG they sing it SO SO SLOWLY I'm not used to that any more! It was nice in parts, but in other parts it felt super unneccessary and drained scenes of their energy. This also meant that instead of the usual 3 hours running time this ran for 4 hours including the lengthy bows. On Saturday, the show ran from 7:30pm to 11:30pm (and then I was waiting around at the stage door until 1:30am because apparently the cast was inside playing poker, lol. But it was worth hanging around because I got a nice signed photo of a bare-chested convict Valjean showing nips. Not my own, mind you, Patrick Stanke brought those out himself. Clearly he knows what Javert his fans want. :D Made the long wait in the cold worth it though, and I made stage door friends for breakfast the next day yay.)
- There was applause in the weirdest spots? Like, applause for all the Amis dying on the barricade...
- Silververt shoots himself! This is only the second production I've seen after Sweden 2016 that makes Javert commit suicide by his own gun, and I love it - way preferrable to the awkward Broadway suicide staging (and obviously Wattsvert's joyful ascent to chair heaven). During his Suicide, Javert climbs all the way up to the third level of the stage and stands at the foot of the big cross up there. Then he shoots himself at the end of his song and falls down to somewhere hidden behind the small wall. Apparently there's a mattress placed there for him to fall on, and he told us that night that after his Suicide, he just kept lying on his mattress for a long time, listening to the show go on below and soaking in the atmosphere. By that point it was definitely past 10pm, it was completely dark, there were huge trees gently swaying in the wind around the stage, and it was such an amazing atmosphere that I'd have done the same. (Also, during his Suicide, there was a bat attracted by the light that kept fluttering around him while he sang his final verses by the cross, which made all the Tanz der Vampire fangirls around me very happy. I, on the other hand, was happy because I still love Shoujo Cosette's Vampirevert a lot and Javert should totally turn into a bat and suck Valjean's virgin blood more often. <3)
- After the show, we got to walk out across the stage and I feel like they should totally do that at the Queen's because it's such fun to get all close and personal with the set. :D
- Then during bows they teased the hand kiss!!! >:( Argh, I've never been teased more in my life. Very unfair!
- That first evening with the show starting at 7:30pm, Stars took place during actual twilight! So so gorgeous. <3 I love open air theatre (except for my ongoing love-hate relationship with the Globe).
- During the Prologue, Javert just lets the yellow passport drop to the floor, which I've admittedly seen many Javerts do, but here there were several meters between them which added an extra level of derisiveness to it which I've never seen before. And then Javert nodded to his guard underling to hand Valjean his bag, who also gave Valjean a disgusted look and dropped the bag right where he stood to leave with Javert.
- Fantine's death happens in this room which has four wooden pillars and gauze curtains in between, and when Javert comes in for the Confrontation, he's hidden behind the gauze curtain at first, spying on Valjean. And he's wearing leather gloves which he slowly tugs off finger by finger while singing his first lines. <3 Thanks for catering to my kinks.
- Then at the end of the Confrontation when they're facing off, standing almost chest to chest while panting with manly resolve to kill each other if neccessary, Sister Simplice who was watching all of that steps forward and gives them a Look and shakes her head at Javert, and they both awkwardly retreat. (And then scene change so I guess here it is indeed Sister Simplice who helps Valjean escape! <3)
- Oh and also Fantine's Death Room turns into Valjean's Death Room, and this time it's Fantine who gets to approach from behind the gauze, and then later watch Cosette and Marius from behind it for a while until Valjean dies.
- Also in Montreuil after Runaway Cart Javert also brings Valjean his coat, and he helped him into it and on my first day gently smoothed it down his back. <3
- Gavroche has the most ridiculous death. OMG seriously, there's no need to slow everything down so much. Gavroche has already made it back to safety atop the barricade, and remains there for an eternity while triumhantly singing his final two lines, and then is shot. It makes literally no sense that he wouldn't take cover for an entire minute when they've already been shooting at him.
- Also their Enjolras, wtf? I actually liked him, he was charismatic and generally fine and his singing was okay, but then both times, absolutely out of nowhere, he turns his final "is free" into this rock scream. On the other hand, he's the last to die on the barricade, which is always enjoyable to watch.
- Also they have both Javert and the Thénardiers join the cast for the Finale which I neither like nor think makes sense in any way at all, even if you believe that it's supposed to be 'heaven' because the Thénardiers aren't dead. Also except for Valjean, none of the characters even believe in Paradise as Reward for a Virtuous Life - the reward the amis are fighting for is very much about the situation of the living, sigh.
- Anyway, a fun production, I hope I get my boot of this because I need to watch Silververt shoot himself again with company, and definitely worth all the travel. (I should have seen it three times, honestly. <3)
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danfanciesphil · 6 years
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Phan Teacher AU (Part 4)
(Part One)
(Part Two)
(Part Three)
This is all Mr Horowitz’s fault. 
Okay, so it’s also a little bit Dan’s fault for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a sensible coat, but in his defence, he had no idea this would happen. 
Normally, Dan’s walk to the bus stop after school is little more than two minutes, and so far he has always made it in time to catch the 3:17 bus. It’s a good thing too, because Dan knows that the next one doesn’t come for another hour. 
He’d been on his way to catch this same bus, in fact, when Mr Horowitz caught his arm, asking whether, before he left, he’d just run upstairs to the labs and clear up the experiment from the last class. Dan, being the school’s servant boy, couldn’t exactly refuse. He’d raced up to the labs at just after 3pm, cleared the desks in lightning speed, run a broom over the floor and sprinted to the bus stop. 
But alas, the sight with which he was greeted was the tail end of it, chugging into the distance as the rain pelted down. 
So now, Dan is stood, shivering like mad, in the downpour. It’s currently 3:30pm, and he still has another 47 minutes before the next bus. 
“Fuck you, Horowitz,” Dan mutters under his breath, which comes out in a silvery puff of steam. 
He wraps his thin jacket around himself a little tighter, rocking on the balls of his feet. Students keep passing him by, some sending sympathetic looks, and some chuckling at his plight. Dan knows he must look an absolute sight; his hair is probably plastered to his head, and his smart shirt and skinny jeans are so drenched that they’d fill a few jugs if they were wrung out, he’s sure. 
“Wanna use my Physics textbook as an umbrella, sir?” A Year 11 student Dan vaguely recognises calls out as they walk past, laughing. 
Dan shakes his head with a grim smile. “No thanks,” He replies, as tactfully as he can bring himself to be. 
It’s at this moment that a car pulls up to the bus stop, pausing right beside where Dan is stood. 
The window rolls down, and Dan’s immediate instinct is to run away - a product of the copious amount of ‘stranger danger’ warnings instilled into him during his teacher training. 
Then, the driver of the vehicle leans across the passenger seat, and Dan nearly wails. It’s Phil. Of course it’s Phil. 
“Hey!” Phil says, a glimmer of amusement in his cobalt eyes. “Need a lift?”
Trying his best not to think about the fact that he looks the worst he ever has, Dan forces a tight smile, leaning towards the open window. 
“Hey, hah- yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare for the weather today.” Dan says, chuckling at himself. “But it’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I live really far away. I’ll just get the next bus.” 
“When’s the next bus?” Phil asks. 
A car behind him slows to a stop, unable to get past. Dan glances up at it worriedly. The driver, an older man in a suit, looks impatient. 
“Um, in forty-five minutes. Ish.” 
Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “What?! You’re planning to wait here in the rain for that long?”
Dan tries to give Phil a bright smile, like he’s fine with it, but a raindrop falls from his forehead into his eye, making him wince. 
“Y-yeah, it’s okay, I’m-” Dan cuts himself as a sneeze surges up out of nowhere; he just about manages to turn away, aiming it into the crook of his elbow. 
When he looks back up at Phil, he does not look pleased. “Dan,” he says, his voice dropping to his firm, teacher tone. “Get in the car.” 
Partly because the gentleman behind Phil has begun honking his horn, and partly because his knees have jellified at the sound of Phil speaking to him this way, Dan pulls open Phil’s passenger door and climbs in. 
It’s so warm inside that he could cry. 
“I’m gonna get your seats all wet.” Dan says mournfully, trying to take up as little space as he can. 
“They’ll dry.” Phil tells him, turning the heater up until it’s blasting over Dan’s face and chest. “There are more important things than courtesy, you know Dan.”
Dan turns to him, trying to work out whether Phil’s annoyed. He watches silently as Phil pulls away from the kerb, joining the thick muddle of after-school traffic inching its way towards the main road. 
“My mum raised me to be a polite young man,” Dan jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 
“My mum raised me not to put my health in danger for the sake of asking a friend for a lift once in a while,” Phil replies, looking over at Dan. The windscreen wipers squeak as they battle the awful weather. After a moment, Phil sighs, his expression softening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you. But come and find me if you miss your bus again, okay? I’d rather drive a bit out of my way today than have you turn up tomorrow with pneumonia.”
Dan nods guiltily. “Wait till you see how far away I live before you get too generous.”
*
“Wow,” Phil whistles, eyebrows raised as he stares down at Google Maps on his phone. “You weren’t kidding.”
They’ve pulled into a layby, the rain still thundering against the glass. It doesn’t matter though, because Phil’s car is warm and dry. It’s littered with little plastic toys, highlighting Phil’s quirkier side. There are Marvel superhero bobble-heads blu-tacked onto the dashboard, and the cupholders are filled with keyrings that look like they were won out of those two-penny slot machines.
There are also sweet wrappers scattered around - skittles, starburst, pick ‘n’ mix, or anything sugary and colourful. 
None of it seems anything other than incredibly endearing, though. Dan could spend hours rifling through this car, which is so intrinsically Phil, just learning about him through his clutter. 
“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. “It’s a forty minute bus ride.” 
“You do that every day?” Phil asks, looking up at him in wonder. “Twice a day?”
Dan shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”
It would be a lot worse if he had nothing to look forward to once he actually got to the school, Dan thinks privately. 
“Um, don’t worry about taking me all the way,” Dan says quickly, “just drop me at another bus stop or something on your way home-”
Phil flaps a hand at him distractedly, turning back to his phone. He pinches the map, searching the screen for a route to take. 
“No, no, I don’t mind taking you,” Phil says, chewing his lip. He looks up, out of the windscreen, appearing to have some sort of internal debate. “It’s just... well, do you mind if we make a stop?”
Dan blinks at him. 
“Uh, a stop?” He asks, uncomprehending. 
“Yeah,” Phil replies. “It’s just that I need to let my dog out. Would you mind if we stopped at mine on the way? I’ll take you straight home after.”
Dan pauses for a moment, the words not sinking in straight away. Phil wants to take him to his house, where he actually lives, and he’s asking if that would be a problem.
“Phil, you’re literally rescuing me from a storm,” Dan says slowly, watching the bashful smile spread over Phil’s gorgeous features. “You could drive me via the Eiffel Tower if you wanted.”
Phil grins at him, putting his phone down and releasing the handbrake. “Maybe we should save the Eiffel Tower for another time.” Phil side-eyes him, questioningly. “Like in two weeks?” 
Dan’s already racing heart picks up a little more speed, the fact that he is currently en route to Phil’s actual house beginning to seep into reality. He laughs, feeling awkward about what Phil is implying. 
“Yeah, I still haven’t decided whether I’m coming on the trip yet,” Dan says, hands clasping together in his damp lap. 
“You know it’s free for teachers, right?”
“I’m not a teacher.” 
Phil smirks. “I’m sure I can persuade John to let you in free of charge.”
“Who?” Dan asks.
“John. Mr Green.” Phil clarifies; Dan just stares blankly. “Vice Principal of the school?”
“Oh,” Dan says, vaguely remembering a ‘VP Green’ showing him round on his first day. “I haven’t seen him since I first started. Sorry.”
“Well, he’s coming on the trip.” Phil tells him. “So, that’s a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.” 
“Right, because having an awkward conversation in Paris with the Vice Principal of a school I’m heavily under-qualified to work at is top of my to-do list.”
Phil laughs heartily, pulling off the main road into a suburban maze of small houses. They can’t be more than ten minutes from the school. Dan gazes out of his rain-speckled window at the idyllic neighbourhood, trying not to be too obvious about how badly he wants to soak it all in. 
“You’re not under-qualified.” Phil says, leaving no room for argument. You’re one of the best TA’s I’ve ever had.” 
Dan stays quiet in the face of this statement, not sure how to handle it. 
“Besides,” Phil continues, to Dan’s relief. “John’s actually a pretty cool guy,” 
As it has rather often since the film screening on Wednesday, Dan’s mind wanders to thoughts of Paris, of being there with Phil and the rest of the Year Nine class. In his current state of awkward, socially inept pining over the class’ teacher, Dan’s not sure he’d be able to handle the experience. 
Yes, it would be an amazing opportunity, and undoubtedly fun at times. But the class already tease Dan, sensing his overly-fond opinion of their favourite teacher despite him trying to keep it under control. It’s hard to imagine an entire weekend of that, in the so-called ‘city of love’, whilst attempting at least a shade of professionalism. 
Not to mention how uncomfortable the whole thing could make Phil. 
“But I don’t wanna pressure you.” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s tumultuous thoughts. “I just think it’d be fun if you came.” 
Before Dan can properly comprehend that statement, let alone reply to it, Phil is pulling the car over and switching off the engine. 
They’re parked in the middle of a quiet, orderly street, right outside a cute little bungalow, complete with a neat front garden and little pathway to the front door. 
“You live here?” Dan asks, awed by how... lovely it is. 
Phil chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No Dan, I brought you to someone else’s house and we’re going to break in.” 
Dan turns to narrow his eyes at Phil, who just laughs more. 
“Come on, let’s get inside - it’s still belting down.” Phil says, unfastening Dan’s seatbelt before he gets the chance. 
Dan takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to prepare himself for what’s about to happen, and follows Phil as he hops out of the car, and jogs to the front door. 
*
If Phil’s car is telling of his personality, his house is as though he’d cracked open his chest, scooped handfuls of his soul out and splattered it all over the walls. 
Dan has never seen any sort of interior design that represented a person so well before. It’s not just visually appealing, it’s also a spectacle to behold. Dan’s sure that by just opening one random drawer in Phil’s house and glancing at the contents, he’d understand a thousand more things about this man, strange and enigmatic as he is. 
They enter into a small entrance hall, painted a sunny yellow. There’s a semi-circular welcome mat on the floor, made to look like half a pepperoni pizza. On one wall hangs a large mirror, in a bizarre, warped shape, the edges curved as though they’d been drawn by a child. 
There’s a tall cheese plant in one corner, and on a table below the mirror sits a potted scarlet anthurium. It’s a colourful room, and Dan’s very aware that this is only the very entrance of Phil’s house. 
Before Dan can comment on the aesthetics - which he greatly appreciates, having lived in a cheap, falling apart, ‘student house’ for some time now - a small creature tears through the doorway on the left, bounding towards them, barking shrilly. 
Phil crouches down to greet it, gathering the bundle of excitable fur into his arms immediately, laughing. Mouth falling open in an adoring ‘o’, Dan drops to the floor instinctively, an overwhelming urge to pet this animal forcing him to its level. 
“Dan,” Phil chuckles, receiving several licks to his face. “This is Buffy.”
It lets out a ‘ruff!’ upon hearing its name, turning to Dan, tongue hanging out as it surveys him. In a millisecond, the dog is wriggling in Phil’s arms, struggling to be free. It worms its way out of Phil’s grip in a second, leaping across to Dan’s lap, tail wagging excitedly. 
“Oh my God,” Dan says, cuddling the dog close to himself as he strokes and scritches and pets its soft, caramel fur. “This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. What breed is it?” 
“She’s a paperanian,” Phil says, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor. He laughs as Buffy begins frantically licking at Dan’s face, front paws on his chest as she attempts to reach him. “A pomeranian-papillon mix.”
Phil strokes along her back, fondly, his hand occasionally brushing across Dan’s. 
Dan is giggling into the shock of Buffy’s fur, relishing the adorable, happy temperament of this dog. His only family dog had been a springer-spaniel when he was young, and it had died before he’d had a chance to bond with it properly. 
“Unff-” Dan says, voice muffled as Buffy licks eagerly at his chin. “How long’ve you had her?” 
“About a year and a half?” Phil replies, smiling warmly. “I used to volunteer at a shelter when I lived in France. I didn’t mean to get attached, but I couldn’t help it. So I adopted her.” 
“She’s adorable,” Dan says, stroking over her soft, pointed ears as she begins to calm down, happily settled in Dan’s lap. “I think I’m in love.” 
Phil glances up at Dan, eyebrow raised. For some reason, Dan finds himself blushing. “I get it.” Phil replies. “I fell in love on sight.” 
Dan holds Phil’s gaze for a moment, any responses getting caught in his throat. Buffy barks, stealing their attention, and Phil giggles at her. He stands, scooping her up from Dan’s lap and into his arms. 
Dan tries not to pout about this. 
“Come on, then,” Phil says, presumably to the dog, “I’ll let you out for a bit.”
Dan stands too, following Phil through his hallway and into the room on the left. 
Again, he is struck by the amazing decor of the room in which he enters, which seems to be a spacious living area, but he barely has time to appreciate it before Phil is heading into the kitchen at the other end, Buffy still tucked in the crook of his arm. 
At the back of the kitchen there’s a glass sliding door, leading to what appears to be a tiny back garden, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. It’s through here that Phil lets Buffy out, barking happily as she scampers across the wet grass, not bothered by the rain in the slightest. 
Phil slides the door shut after her, turning to Dan with a smile. “I’ll just let her run around for a bit. She’s been cooped up all day.” 
“I guess you have to leave her here while you’re at school?” 
“Yeah,” Phil replies guiltily. “It’s not as bad as some jobs, because I can let her out in the morning, and then I finish quite early in the day, but I still feel bad.”
“I’m sure she’s used to it.” Dan says, trying to make a positive comment. 
“Yeah, I suppose.” Phil says. “If I ever have to stay late, I can call my brother to come and check on her. He lives just down the road.” 
“That’s convenient, at least.” 
Phil shrugs, turning to his kitchen counter and retrieving the bright red kettle. 
“It’s not perfect, but it works okay.” Phil says. “Anyway, I’m rarely away from home. It’s not every day I have to rescue damoiseau’s in distress caught in rainstorms because they missed their bus.” Phil winks at him; along with the casual french he dropped into the sentence, it makes Dan feel a little dazed. 
“Do you want a cup of tea while she runs about for a bit?” Phil asks.
Dan feels his heart flutter, and wonders whether any of the other TA’s have ever had the honour of coming here, of meeting Phil’s dog and receiving hot beverages on rainy days. 
“That’d be great, thanks.” Dan answers quietly, still feeling like an inconvenience. 
As Phil fills the kettle and gets the mugs, Dan takes the opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but with a few youthful, quirky touches that indicate Phil’s sillier side. 
The walls are cream, as are the countertops, but there are splashes of colour everywhere. The microwave is bright yellow, and there are a host of tiny herb plants in red, green, blue and orange pots atop the windowsill. 
Phil’s fridge is a light blue, and around his light wooden table, the chairs are varying sizes and colours, mismatched, but in a way that seems put together. 
“It’s so homely in here,” Dan muses, not really meaning to say it aloud. 
Phil turns to him, evidently surprised. “Thanks! Most people say it’s a bit much.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs, chuckling. “My brother said that it’s as if I gathered a random load of furniture and scattered it about without thinking.” 
“Did you?” 
“Kind of, I suppose.” Phil allows, shrugging one shoulder. “I just pick up bits and pieces that I like the look of, and fit them in as best I can.” He laughs, opening his sky-blue fridge to get the milk. “I don’t pretend to be an expert in interior design. I just like things to be...” 
“Pretty?” Dan supplies.
“I was gonna say colourful,” Phil says, smiling at him. “But yeah, I suppose. Thanks.” 
Dan blushes faintly, casting another look around. He notices for the first time that Phil’s fridge door is covered in those alphabet magnets, some of which spell out the phrase ‘normalness leads to sadness’. There’s also a photo pinned there, of Phil and a man Dan vaguely recognises as his brother. He’s holding Buffy in his arms, smiling a very Phil-like smile.
“Milk? Sugar?” Phil asks, tearing Dan’s attention away. 
“Just milk, thanks.” 
Phil pours the milk, humming to himself, and adds two lumps of sugar to his own cup from a gnome-shaped pot nearby. He places the mugs down on the table, and pulls out a chair. 
“You can sit down, you know,” Phil tells Dan amusedly, slipping into one of the seats. 
Dan obeys, sliding into the chair opposite him and retrieving his mug. “Thanks.” 
He sips, even though it’s far too hot, trying to think past his nerves, for something, anything, to say that isn’t ‘wow you’re pretty and your house is pretty and your dog is the cutest thing in the world and I think I’m crushing on you far, far too much to even be here let alone go to Paris with you in two weeks’. He comes up blank. 
Then, quite unexpectedly, Phil reaches across the table, and pushes a strand of his fringe away from his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dan freezes, a deer in headlights, as Phil’s fingertips brush his forehead, acutely aware of how damp he is still. 
“Your hair,” Phil says softly, wonderingly. “It’s curly.” 
Dan blushes furiously at once, ducking away from Phil’s touch, feeling self-conscious. “Shit, yeah. The rain, y’know...”
Phil draws his hand back to his mug, smiling amusedly. “It’s cute.” 
Dan looks at him in surprise. He’s never, in a million years, considered the idea that anybody might find his natural, untameable curls anything other than ridiculous, but all of a sudden he has a powerful urge to never touch a pair of straighteners again. 
Dan lifts his hand to his head, patting the mess of curls that are drying there. 
“I... never really liked them.” He admits, sheepish.
“You should embrace them,” Phil says encouragingly. He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, if you want. I think they suit you. But then, it’s not my hair.” 
All of a sudden, Dan shivers, partly because he’s wet and cold, but mostly because Phil is being so sweet that his body actually seems to be rejecting the sentiment, not sure how else to process it. 
Phil frowns, noticing the tremble. “Hey, take that off.” 
He gestures to Dan’s torso, standing from the chair. Dan just looks, bewildered, at Phil’s outstretched hand. 
“Um...”
“Your jacket, Dan.” Phil says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ll throw it in the dryer.” 
“Oh, no it’s okay-”
“Dan, you’re actually shivering.” Phil interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll just dry off your wet jacket, it’ll take ten minutes.” 
“It’s warm in here, you really don’t have to.” Dan mumbles, but he’s already shaking the damn thing off his shoulders, because Phil is using his teacher-voice, and it’s drilling right into his chilly bones.
Phil just takes the jacket from him, opening a secret cupboard door under the kitchen counter to reveal a washer-dryer. He places Dan’s jacket inside, presses a few buttons, and smiles in satisfaction as the dryer begins its cycle. 
He turns back to Dan, frowning again as he takes in the sight of him. 
“Hey, drink your tea, it’ll warm you up.” Phil instructs, moving across the room, towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”
Dan doesn’t get a chance to object; Phil slips out of the room, leaving Dan sat at the table in just his damp, clinging, white shirt, hands clasped around the mug of tea.
Then, in a moment, he’s back again, a bundle of green material in one hand. He hands it to Dan casually, then moves to sit back in his seat.
“Um, what’s this?” Dan asks, confused. He turns the green item over in his hands carefully. 
“A hoodie,” Phil says, like it’s perfectly normal. “You’re cold.”
Dan swallows, squeezing the material in his fist. It feels thick and warm. “Oh, th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Phil says, beaming. “Put it on, you’re not allowed to be cold in my house.”
“I didn’t realise you had such strict house rules,” Dan replies teasingly, but pulls the hoodie over his head, threading his arms through the sleeves. 
It smells - oh, Lord - it smells just like him. It’s cinnamon sweet, with a fresh, plant-like overtone. A cooling, freshly baked apple pie on a windowsill, the breeze sweeping in its delicious aroma, carrying the notes of the newly cut spring grass. 
Dan has to force himself not to bury his nose in the sleeves that hang down over his hands. 
He tries to distract himself by looking down at the text on the front of it, which reads ‘York University’. “I see I’m repping your college.” 
“Hah, yeah, sorry about that.” Phil says bashfully, sipping more tea. “I guess it’s a bit weird to hang onto that, isn’t it?”
Dan shrugs. “Not if you liked it.” 
Phil smiles at him appreciatively. “I liked the uni, yeah. And I like the hoodie. I like it even better on you.” 
Simply because Dan doesn’t trust himself to speak further about this without melting into a gooey puddle, he decides to change the subject. 
“So, is it Buffy as in... the vampire slayer?” 
He nods towards the screen door, through which Phil’s dog is sprinting happily across the grass, pausing every so often to sniff a patch, tail wagging furiously. 
Phil turns to watch her for a moment, laughing. He nods, turning back to wink at Dan. “I mean, it is the greatest show of all time.” 
Dan considers this, nodding. “It’s definitely up there.”
“You’ve seen it?” Phil asks, sounding surprised. “Not many people have, these days.”
“You spend too much time around teenagers.” Dan says with a wry smile. “The kids in your classes probably weren’t even born when Buffy was cool.” 
Phil sighs, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right.”
“Hey, it’s their loss.” Dan says. “They’ll never know the awesomeness that is Buffy Summers kicking kicking the ass of every monster that dares to cross her.”
“Or the incredible hotness of Spike,” Phil adds, somewhat wistfully. 
“Spike over Angel? Interesting.” 
“To be honest, if I were Buffy, I think I’d have a similarly hard time deciding between them.”
“Same,” Dan agrees, staring down into his tea. 
“Hey, I forgot,” Phil announces suddenly, his voice bright and cheerful. “I made cupcakes! Would you like one?”
Dan watches as Phil stands from his chair, heading to a cupboard to pull out a cake tin. 
“Um,” Dan says; his stomach is rumbling at the mere mention of food, let alone cake, but he wants to be careful about how far he should run with Phil’s generosity. In the end however, his tummy, which hasn’t been fed since lunch, makes the decision for him. “Sure. Thanks.”
Phil finds a small plate and presents Dan with one of the most incredible looking cakes he’s ever seen. Putting bakeries to shame, Phil has piped rainbow frosting atop a small, palm sized cake. He’s also sliced off the top of the cake, cut it in half, and pushed the pieces into the icing in a traditional ‘butterfly cake’ style. 
The whole thing is covered in some kind of edible glitter too, making it sparkle under Phil’s soft, overhead lamps. 
“Christ, you made this?” Dan asks, staring down at it in amazement. “I feel like I shouldn’t eat something this pretty.”
Phil chuckles. “It’s either going to you or Buffy, so eat up.”
Phil takes his seat again, and Dan diligently begins peeling the glittery pink case from the sides of the cupcake. He glances up at Phil, watching him, and pauses.
“You’re not having one?” 
Phil shakes his head. “Trust me, I’ve had about sixty already since I made them. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m cupcake’d out.”
Dan’s eyes fall to the cake in his hand, feeling awkward about eating it now. 
Phil laughs at him, and Dan looks up. “What?” 
“Afraid I’m trying to poison you?” 
Dan splutters, having not even thought of that. Realistically though, he perhaps should be a bit more concerned. He doesn’t know Phil that well, after all.  
Playing along, Dan eyes the cake suspiciously, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Well, it is awfully convenient that you just had to let Buffy out whilst you already had me in your car...”
Phil rolls his eyes, smirking. Without a word, he leans forwards, plucks the cupcake from Dan’s hand, and brings it to his lips. He takes a small bite, frosting and all, licking glitter and crumbs from his lips as he holds Dan’s gaze. 
He hands the cupcake back over, looking triumphant. “There. If it’s poisoned, then we’ll both die.”
“Finally,” Dan jokes, taking a bite out of the cupcake, heart palpitating over what just happened. 
The cupcake is glorious. Dan shuts his eyes, moaning a little in appreciation. It tastes like strawberry laces, and vanilla ice cream, and pure, unfiltered joy. It tastes like how he imagine Phil himself would taste, were he smothered in frosting and had a surprise, raspberry jam centre. 
“Fucking hell,” Dan says eloquently, diving straight back in for another bite. “Phil Lester, you’re a genius.” 
In three bites, Dan has devoured the entire thing, and he licks the remnants off each of his fingers, wishing he could go back in time and experience that slice of heaven all over again. 
When he eventually meets Phil’s gaze, he’s looking a little dazed. There’s a pink tint to his pale skin, resting just above his sharp cheekbones. Seeming to gather himself, Phil clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses, smiling. 
“Glad you liked it,” Phil mumbles, busying himself by taking Dan’s plate to the sink. 
“You should apply for Bake Off,” Dan says sincerely.
Phil laughs, rinsing the plate under the tap, faced away from him. 
“Actually don’t,” Dan says, changing his mind. “Just bake for me, instead.” 
Phil stacks the plate on a drying rack, turning back to him. He doesn’t sit back at the table, though. He just leans against the counter, watching Dan from afar. 
“And what do I get out of that deal, Mr Howell?” Phil asks, raising an eyebrow. 
“Literally whatever you want.” Dan replies, meaning every word. 
“Careful,” Phil says, typically flirtatious, making Dan’s stomach flip. “Some people might take advantage of a promise like that.” 
Dan just laughs, staying quiet. In his mind however, he silently comes to the realisation that he can’t think of a single thing that Phil could ask for, that he would refuse to do. 
Oh, dear.
*
By the time they leave Phil’s house, the rain has eased to more of a drizzle, but it pours continuously nonetheless. Dan says goodbye to Buffy about five times, softened by her sad little whimpers and puppy eyes each time he turns to go. 
He doesn’t mind that her fur is soaked and a little muddy, he just cuddles her close, no doubt ruining Phil’s hoodie, though Phil doesn’t object. He doesn’t even tell her off as she tracks damp pawprints through the kitchen, he just uses a spare towel to dry her off, giggling as she wriggles about beneath it. 
“Aw, he’ll be back another time, Buffy,” Phil assures his whining dog, and secretly Dan bursts with happiness. 
They get out of the door eventually, and into Phil’s car. Phil sticks the heating on straight away, blasting them both as they rub their hands together. Dan wishes it would be socially acceptable to lean across and nestle into Phil’s shoulder, but alas, he settles for simply wrapping the hoodie more tightly around himself, pretending it’s Phil’s arms. 
“She loves you,” Phil says, laughing. “She’s not going to let me forget that, either.”
“What a shame,” Dan says, faking a dismayed sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to come and play with her all the time.”
Phil grins at him. “You should. Buffy would really like that.”
“Buffy would?” Dan asks, feeling just brave enough to attempt a flirtation, fuelled by the adrenaline his own body has been pumping through his veins for the past hour or so. 
Phil just smiles at him, eyes holding Dan’s for a moment, seeming to forget about starting the car. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “She really would.”
*
It’s quite painful to watch Phil driving away. 
It’s only been a couple of hours, but in the short time he and Phil spent together this afternoon, Dan had grown rather attached to his presence. 
This whole crush-thing would be so much easier if Phil was a difficult person to hang out with. But it’s so easy. They fall into banter as quickly as breathing, their conversations lasting indefinitely, because they could spring off each other’s witticisms for hours on end. 
Phil is so funny, and so effortlessly charming. He’s intelligent and sharp, which is attractive on its own, but he has such a flirtatious streak, and it only makes things worse. 
The more time Dan spends around him, in fact, the more he feels himself falling into a deep cavern of yearning. 
When Phil pulled up to Dan’s house, right before Dan got out, he handed Dan another one of his cupcakes, which he’d hidden in a little Tupperware box in the glove compartment, unbeknownst to Dan. 
Dan had protested at first, saying he couldn’t possibly steal another of his incredible creations, but Phil insisted on him having it. Eventually, Dan managed to create a condition - that he owed Phil a favour, not only for the cupcake (and the other cupcake) but for the cup of tea, and introducing him to Buffy, and the kindness, and for literally rescuing him in his hour of need and driving him forty minutes across town to his house. 
Phil laughed, but agreed to these terms. Dan had gone to leave his car then, cupcake in hand, but Phil had stopped him, saying he had an idea for how Dan could repay him. 
Of course, he had to say Paris. 
So, because he’s helpless to refuse Phil anyway, and because he owes Phil a lot, Dan agreed. So, in two weeks, he’s off to Paris, to spend an entire weekend with Phil, in the most romantic city in the world. 
Yes, there will be twenty or more teenagers along for the ride, but Dan finds it difficult enough to keep it together in Phil’s presence as it is, even during class. 
Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time in close proximity to this man is going to render him as useless as a smitten nerd-girl in any teenage rom-com that’s existed since the beginning of time. 
He sighs, watching from his doorway as Phil’s car rounds the corner, out of sight. He opens the Tupperware, and takes a bite of the delicious cake, sighing in defeat.
“Okay, who was that?” Tyler’s voice says from right by his shoulder, making Dan jump. 
“Is that hot, French, teacher-guy?” Teddy interjects from further inside. 
Dan rolls his eyes, turning to push past both of them as he stalks into the house. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than spy on me?”
“Aw, Dan we just want to see you happy!” Tyler exclaims, following Dan into the kitchen. 
He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, walking behind him like a drunk mum too into the conga line, until they reach the counter. 
Dan puts his half eaten cupcake back in its box, placing it on the counter. 
“How do you know I’m not?” Dan asks crossly. 
“I mean, you’re fine.” Teddy says, strolling into the kitchen to rest his arm on Dan’s shoulder. “But fine isn’t good enough for our lovely Daniel. We want to see you being adored!”
Teddy pinches Dan’s cheek, smiling at him. Tyler kisses him on the temple, ruffling his hair. 
Dan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little under the affection. “Thanks, but I’m good.” 
He struggles free of them, intending to take an immediate shower in order to wash the rainwater off himself. He heads for the door of the kitchen, mind already on other things. 
Phil things. 
Paris things. 
“Hey, Dan?” Tyler calls out, sounding confused. Dan turns on the spot, somewhat reluctantly. “I thought you went to the University of Manchester?” 
Dan frowns in confusion. “Ty, we all went to the same uni. We literally met at uni.”
Teddy hides a smirk in Tyler’s shoulder. “Right, right.” Tyler says. “So whose hoodie is that?” 
Having completely forgotten he was even wearing the thing, Dan flushes bright red, stammering in place of a response. It’s an absurd reaction, obviously, but it sends the others into fits of laughter, and Dan instinctively knows they won’t let this go for weeks, no matter how much he tries to insist it was a purely platonic gesture on Phil’s part. 
“I hate you both,” Dan groans, practically running out of the room. 
He slams the door of the bathroom, switching on the shower, cheeks still flame-red in the mirror. He pauses, caught by the sight of his reflection, swathed in the emerald green of Phil’s hoodie. 
He strokes the words on the front, feeling how they’re beginning to flake from multiple washes, and from the creases Phil has made as he moves around in this same garment, when it’s wrapped around him instead. 
Dan lifts the sleeve to his nose, breathing in that delicious scent. The vanilla-strawberry cupcake still lingers on his tongue, making it that little bit sweeter. 
He’ll return this hoodie, he tells himself, saving it until last as he strips off for the shower. But maybe he could forget for a few days. Or maybe he could say that he wanted to wait until the next time he’s in class with Phil, which isn’t until Monday now. 
He places the hoodie carefully to one side, not wanting it to get wet, and hops in the shower. He lets his mind drift, skimming across memories of Phil’s touch against his forehead, the sound of the rain pattering against his screen door as the dog played outside, the low, fond tone of Phil’s voice from across the table, the flame of something vivacious dancing in his glacial eyes. 
Paris, he decides, as the light trickles of warm water travel over his body, might not be so bad. 
(Part 5!)
87 notes · View notes
spring-emerald · 6 years
Note
Kurodai + storm please!
I’m sorry it took me a literal week to get to this! Thank you for sending one in, @kythen. Hope you’ll like it. :)
Daichi worryinglylooks up at the darkening clouds, when another rumble of thunder rolled acrossthe sky. The weather forecast this morning said nothing about rain or isolatedthunderstorms. He double checked before he left his home, confident that itwould be a good day for mountain climbing.
But, he must reallybe a very unfortunate ameotoko,because he just didn’t bring the rain with him, he brought along lightning andthunder too. Not wasting any more time bemoaning his circumstance, he carefullyfollows the trail back to the foot of the mountain, eager to get down beforethe rain pours.
He flinches when aflash of lightning cut through the sky, followed by an ominous loud crack ofthunder and then big, fat raindrops started to fall, harshly hitting theground. Daichi grabs hold of the trunk of the tree beside him, careful not toslip on the trail.
“Really?” He givesthe sky a frustrated look and receives a dull rumble in return.
He moves further intothe tree, trying to stay dry under its canopy of leaves, despite knowing thatit’s going to be futile soon enough. He’ll take all the moments he can staydry, as he thinks if there is a nearby place where he can take shelter from thestorm. He’s only halfway down the mountain, and he doesn’t want to risk thejourney down, not when the trail has gotten muddy and slippery. Better be wetthan injured.
He almost resignshimself to fate, and is already willing to wait out for the storm under thetree he’s in, when lightning strikes once again. He sees the flash of lighteven behind his eyelids and thinks that it must have been one hell of lightningto have that kind of effect.
When he opens hiseyes, he sees a calico cat sitting up straight between two trees, a few stepsaway from him. Its eyes, as far as Daichi could tell, are focused on him, andhe has to blink a few times just to make sure.
Now, Daichi doesn’tknow much about cats, him being a certified dog person, but he knows a thing ortwo about feline behavior, especially its similarities with canines. For one,he’s pretty sure that they dislike loud noises, and would hide in the event ofsuch. And he might not be that familiar with cat breeds, but he thinks calicosare domestic cats, and wouldn’t be caught sauntering at mountains.
Thiscat doesn’t seem to mind the noise or being in the mountain. In fact, it lookstaken care of and not aggressive. Actually, it seemed kind of… bored. The only thing quite unnerving aboutit, is how intelligent its eyes are looking straight at him.
After a few momentsof standing at what could be considered an impasse, the cat meows then standson all of its legs and starts to walk away. It’s a few steps away when itpauses, turns its head to look at Daichi, seemingly irritated that he hadn’tfollowed, and meows loudly once again.
“You… want me tofollow you?” He asks, a feels quite dumb for doing so. But then he thinks thecat rolled its eyes at him- if that is even possible, and felt even dumber.
The cat meows in whatsounded like a dull ‘duh’ in Daichi’shead, before it starts walking away again, not particularly caring if Daichi’sfollowing or not.
Daichi, despitespending most of his childhood in the care of his grandparents and living in arural town, is not highly superstitious. But he’d be a fool if he wouldn’t takethe sudden appearance of cat in the middle of a mountain as some sort of a sign.
Against logicaljudgment and more of intuitive feeling, he follows the cat.
—–
The cat led him awayfrom the trail, and Daichi thinks that it is taking him to the other side ofthe mountain. A few steps back, the path they’re walking on slowly felt harder andless slippery under his wet feet, and the trees are getting sparser, thefurther they go and are replaced by rocky walls. When the cat turns to theright and disappears, only did it occur to Daichi that it had taken him to acave.
He quickens his stepsand he finds himself standing in front of the opening of a cave. He walksinside, just a few steps in, still within the range of the dull daylight, andsighs in relief that he’s not being battered by the heavy rain and strong wind.Not that it would do much, seeing as he’s completely wet down to his underwear.It’s a good thing that he’s brought his usual pack instead of the lighter one,because he knows for certain that he at least have extra clothes.
He had opted to takeout the rain gear that is usually packed, in favor of bringing more water andmaking space for an insulated lunch bag. He’s learned a valuable lesson, but thereisn’t much that he can do right now. He takes off his backpack and puts it downagainst the wall. He kneels in front of it and opens it, taking out a towel andstarts drying himself, looking around the cave as he did so.
It’s dark and quitespooky, and he thinks that it goes deeper than he could see. It’s then that herealizes that he couldn’t find the cat that led him there. He takes out theflashlight, pushes the switch up to open it and points it inside the cave.
Daichi almost jumpsout of his skin in fright when it lands directly at the cat, its eyes, twopoints of orbs glowing sinister in the dark. The cat, who’s already sittinglanguidly on top of a raised rock with its legs folded under it, meows inannoyance at being suddenly illuminated. Daichi immediately points theflashlight down.
“Sorry,” he mutterssheepishly. He doubts the cat heard him, because a gust of wind blows outsideand it’s quite strong because some of it made its way inside the cave, makingDaichi shiver from the cold. He moves the light around the cave, careful not topoint it at the cat’s direction. He points it forward and he sees a woodenhouse-like structure, sitting on top of a flat slab of stone at the end of thecave. He moves the flashlight side-to-side, and sees that on each side aresmall stone lanterns.
Daichi’s jaw dropsopen upon realizing that the cave is actually a shrine. An old, probablyforgotten one, but a shrine nevertheless.
“I don’t haveanything to offer,” he says to the cat weakly. The cat blinks, before it standsand jumps down from the rock and walks to where he left his pack and paws atit. Daichi remembers the grilled mackerel he had prepared as his meal. He walksback to his pack and takes the insulated lunch bag.
The smoky smell ofthe fish wafted around the cave for a moment when he unwrapped the aluminumfoil and puts it in front of the shrine. He then puts his hands together as heclose his eyes, offering a short prayer.
He takes another one,unwraps it and places it in front of the calico cat that had settled back onthe rock it had previously rested on.
“Thank you,” he tellsthe cat gently.  
“You are most definitely welcome.”
Daichi jumps with ascream and he falls on his behind. The inside of the stone lantern burst intothe flames, and rows of hanging lanterns on each side of the cave does the samein order, beginning from the ones closest to the shrine up to the ones closestto the mouth of the cave.
“Oh my god…” Daichiheaves, calming his rapidly beating heart.
Standing beside theraised rock, stroking the cat who’s contently eating its meal, is a tall manwith messy black hair. His bangs are partially covering the right side of his face,while the rest is sticking out in all direction, giving the impression ofsomeone who just rolled out of bed. He’s wearing a red kosode and a black hakamaunder a red haori.
The man hums and says“That’s quite right. Thanks for the offering by the way. It’s been a long timesince I had mackerel.”
Daichi gapes at the…man?No. That’s not quite right. A simple man wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere.And what did he say? ‘Quite right’? Daichi just said ‘Oh my’…oh.
Oh.
“I didn’t mean tostartle you,” he says. But the smirk on his face tells otherwise. This smugexpression makes Daichi shut his mouth close and frown at the… god.
Right,Daichi thinks. But he knows better than to make a god angry. “I didn’t mean tointrude in your shrine.”
“Nah.” He waves adismissing hand in front of him. “It’s not intruding when something led youhere.” He tilts his head pointedly at the direction of the happily eating cat.
Daichi only nods hishead.
“Ah. I’m Kuroo, the guardiandeity of this mountain,” he introduces, his free hand over his chest as he givesDaichi a small bow of his head. “Forgive me. It’s been a while since a humanwandered around here.”
Daichi blinks andpromptly blushes, but decidedly ignores the last bit. “I’m Sawamura Daichi. Ahuman, as you can already tell.” He wants to know how long ‘a while’ was, buthe doesn’t think the god will appreciate his meddling. But, he informs the godas to why humans don’t wander a lot around this part of the mountain.
“Well, that explainsthe lack of worshippers for the last century or so,” Kuroo says, grabbing theproffered meal on his shrine, and sits in front of the rock and leans againstit. He’s about to dig in, when he notice Daichi’s wide eyed expression.
“Would you like tojoin me?”
Daichi’s about toreply, when the urge to sneeze came to him, and he is unable to hold it back.
“Excuse me,” he sniffs,wiping his nose on the sleeves of his shirt, and then just remembering that hestill hadn’t changed his clothes.
“You should probablychange out of your wet clothes,” Kuroo inputs astutely. “My godly powers, asgreat as they are don’t allow me to heal human, unfortunately.”
“Right…” Daichistands up, dusts his pants, and walks to his pack. He’s taken off his shirt,and is in the process of drying his chest when he feels some sort of intensityboring at his back. He glances behind him, and he sees Kuroo intently watchinghim.
He turns his headaway and hastily puts on his spare shirt. He’s supposed to change his pants andhis underwear as well, but the current audience is making him self-conscious. Andit’s silly, since he’s spend majority of his time changing in front of otherguys during high school and a better part of college, when he was part of thevolleyball team. This shouldn’t bother him, but it does. He doesn’t comment onit, but wraps the towel around his waist, to give some semblance of decency ashe changes.
Once he’s done, he laysout his clothes on the ground to at least dry them out before he puts it insidehis pack. He goes back to where Kuroo is and sits in front of him, reaching outfor the last piece of grilled mackerel while he does so. After saying his thanks,they begin eating.
Over the course oftheir simple meal, Daichi learned that Kurro’s shrine used to be very sacred tohunters, and it’s one of the reasons why it’s hard to come by. It’s a place ofworship that they had to find. Cats are also his sacred animal, since backthen, they were the companions of the hunters. He’s also learned that Kuroo’sfavorite offering is mackerel.
Daichi doesn’t knowwhat to make out of the striking coincidences, so he just keeps hisobservations to himself, and instead tells Kuroo about how civilization haschanged and how the famous shrines and temples found in the cities are beingvisited by people from other countries.
They kept conversing,with Daichi not knowing that the thunder storm had petered out, and that thelate afternoon sun is already back in the sky once again. He wouldn’t havenoticed it, until Kuroo pointed it out.
“It was nice to haveyour company, Sawamura,” he says as Daichi shoulders his backpack, ready tohead out and trek down the mountain.
Daichi feels hesitantto leave Kuroo alone, especially after knowing what he knows now. “I’ll comeback here,” he promises. “And then, if you’re allowed to leave the mountain totravel, then maybe I can show you around.”
“I’d like that,” Kuroo replies with smile.
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