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and-it-freezes-me · 3 years

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Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.”

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

#AUgust 2021 #fake dating au #logince #moxiety #dukeceit

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greenhappyseed · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 317: Thoughts & comparisons part 2 - THE OLD MAN AND THE KID

As mentioned in Part 1, I'm splitting my thoughts on Chapter 317 into 3 posts: this one about Deku and All Might (part 2), plus separate posts on the hero brain trust and the media (part 1) and the hero killer Stain (part 3).

* * * * * * * * * *

This part of the chapter was an emotional sucker punch and gave me strong "Gift of the Magi" vibes. All Might is trying to protect his boy by following him, and Deku is trying to protect his idol by saying goodbye. Unfortunately, there's no guarantee of safety for anyone right now, so their "gifts" of protection are unusable. All Might isn't safe whether All Might follows Deku or stays behind. Same for Deku -- his loved ones aren't safe whether he accepts their help or not. It's the harsh reality of what AFO does. The real thing that All Might and Deku need to focus on isn't giving each other the "gift" of safety, but on how strong their bond is.

The main stumbling block is that Deku STILL idolizes All Might (as All Might recognized a few chapters ago). As the adult, it was on All Might to speak up, but he didn't because he's scared to disappoint his boy. He already knows the pain of disappointing a fanboy, so this would take it to a whole new level. But if he really wants to keep Izuku in his life, he MUST risk it and tell the kid all the things he wishes someone had told him. As I wrote previously (between Ch 315-16) it's maddening because we know All Might is capable of having this kind of frank talk with Izuku -- he did it all the way back in Ch 2. All Might saw Izuku overworking himself and modified the workout plan to moderate Izuku's extreme behavior, which would have prevented Izuku from reaching his ultimate goal if left unchecked. So yeah, All Might knows better, and knows he can’t stand idly by while his kid makes a massive deadly mistake. When a child doesn’t have the capacity to help themselves and the consequences are serious, an adult HAS to step in and help ASAP. Talk to the kid, talk to the kid’s friends/teachers, talk to professionals. Keep going until your kid gets the help they need, because even if a parent/guardian can’t help directly, it’s their responsibility to find that help for their kid. Haven’t we learned anything from the lost children in the League of Villains?

Meanwhile, Deku doesn't see All Might as a human who loves Izuku Midoriya. I think, in part due to his being bullied and his innate tendency to not take himself into account, he sees All Might's devotion to him as part of a predecessor-successor relationship. Deku will struggle as long as he sees "All Might" as an ideal and not the human in front of him. (Admittedly, I thought the HPSC storyline might go here and disclose All Might’s awareness of some “grey” missions, causing Deku to look at his mentor through a different lens.) But even now, Deku is trying to have an "I AM HERE" moment so All Might is proud of his successor, but fails to realize All Might is ALREADY PROUD (in part because All Might hasn't vocalized it in a way that Deku can truly hear it). The "You don't look back at me anymore..." in context is immediately followed up by this glowing Dadmight moment:

It only becomes a sad moment in retrospect as All Might realizes (1) he didn't really tell Deku explicitly how proud he was often enough; and (2) the full weight of what it means to nurture a child towards independence (and that his boy is just like him, and is heading towards the same fate as him....)

While I definitely think Bakugo will knock some sense into Deku, I still think All Might is the only one that can truly “release” Deku from these burdens, especially the ones related to the “Symbol of Peace” and the Shimura family that are tied directly to All Might. We see this in Deku’s callbacks:

Nana in the vestige world sobbing over her mistake in giving up Kotaro, saying she and Gran Torino were wrong, and testing Deku’s resolve to save Shigaraki. Juxtaposed with Gran Torino saying, "I should have made the kill...sorry...don't be so rigid. Killing can be another way to save someone," and Shigaraki screaming in emotional pain, “I don’t care if you understand. That’s what makes us heroes and villains!” It’s not just AFO — it’s the weight of generations and broken families on Deku’s shoulders. It’s All Might’s failure to save Shigaraki earlier that has become Deku’s problem now.

Post-USJ Deku meeting with All Might, talking about the first time he used OFA without breaking himself, and All Might pressuring Deku to become the Symbol of Peace. Even though All Might no longer feels that way, and SO MUCH has happened since then, he never clearly said so to Deku, and Deku keeps that weight on himself. The past never dies.

Deku is overwhelmed and destined for a poor decision that will hurt someone or himself, which would definitely play into the media's (and AFO's) hands. First, note the flashback inception with Deku recalling the post-USJ All Might meeting, which itself contains a flashback to Thirteen lecturing about how uncontrolled quirks can kill.

Second, the image of the defeated assassin is downright ominous, with the way All Might is shown above Deku's shoulder like a conscience [Edit: see @codenamesazanka's post here for a Spinner parallel!!] and the way the villain is tied up with his head hanging back, mouth open, eyes rolled back…. Deku and All Might are in shadow, and the villain is in the light…. no real attempt to talk to or understand the villain, just what he knows of AFO……SO MUCH POWER in a volatile teenager with too much responsibility and too few physical and emotional reserves. This won't end well.

Ok, time to bring the real Dadmight pain. All Might dives to save Midoriya and falls. The only other time he’s fallen flat on the ground like that is when he dove to save the random lady during the Cider House incident (which we got in the anime last week). In that fight, All Might needed a guardian gremlin to save him from falling debris. Hopefully that means he’ll go to UA and find young Bakugo soon, and he won't do something dumb and sacrificial in the meantime. WHO SAVES THE (EX-) HEROES?

All Might is a genuinely good person with good intentions, and he drove himself into the ground to help others, but he’s NOT a god. He’s not infallible or omniscient. He has tunnel vision from pursing the same mission from age 14 to, uh, 50-something, and is learning how to function as a "normal" adult. He never asked for help before, and in fact, considered it shameful (even in Kamino). He needs to follow the advice he was going to give to Deku, and reach out to others to save his little boy and himself. He’s still very much capable of inspiring others, even if he needs to rest sometimes. And with that, we cut to Stain, an extremist who believes in self-sacrifice and idolizes prime All Might. Cue Part 3...

A few other points:

Nobody in this arc (including Deku) seems to be using All Might as a resource based on his decades of experience with the media OR with AFO, and it really bothers me. Why is All Might excluded from the brain trust? They’re acting like All Might is useless because he’s quirkless and no longer a ranked hero, but he's still got his brain and his memories. Are Endeavor, Hawks, and Mt Lady really going to chat with Edgeshot and sort it all out??? Will Jeanist's fiber puns stop AFO??? Ugh. This is why hero society as we know it needs to be radically reworked; these top heroes are misusing resources and NOT TALKING to people who might actually have useful info. Does a "hero" need to wear a costume or hold a license to use their brain?

Will anyone tell Inko???? I posted before about this chapter's reference to All Might promising her that he’ll keep Deku safe. But she generally only appears after Deku gets a big advancement of some sort, so I don't know if she'll pop up soon...although I feel like she might need to? (E.g., my pet theory is that we only get her note in the hospital after the forest raid because Deku saved Kota but failed to save Bakugo.) Who else has "lifted up" All Might except Izuku, Inko, and Aizawa -- and Aizawa is probably not in a place to do heavy emotional labor right now???

Others have noted the outreached hand parallels (PAIN!) so I won’t belabor that. BUT look at All Might’s hand, how it is first outstretched and then starting to curl as he realizes he can’t reach Deku in time. Also, how small and frail All Might's hand looks as it curls up. He's normally drawn with huge hands (as big as Deku’s head) so to see his hands look equal in size to Deku’s shows Deku’s growth. Also, contrast this set of hands moving apart with how we saw hands moving together at Kamino, where All Might’s fighting inspired fearlessness. Hopefully All Might can “fight” here too, and inspire the next generation to to amazing things.

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litniche · 3 years

Text

Love Will Find a Way

Damie fic

Read it here on ao3

Chapter 14

“You’re the coolest,” Flora stage-whispered to Jamie. She was standing barefoot on Jamie’s feet, holding the gardener’s hands in a dance.

“I thought I was your favorite, Flora,” Owen said. He was dancing with Hannah next to them. His brows were scrunched together and the man was downright pouting.

“You are,” Miles answered for her, “but she’s right. Jamie’s the coolest.”

“This is your fault, you know,” Owen told Dani who was currently attempting to allow Miles to twirl her.“You’re the one that started them on that American lingo, as I recall.”

Dani let her jaw drop in mock offense. The expression made Jamie’s laugh bust out like it had been waiting to escape. Blue eyes followed the sound and they trailed Jamie’s form before meeting her gaze. As the song came to an end, Sheryl Crow’s I Shall Believe began to fade in.

Jamie cricked her neck in a gesture for Dani to move closer. She twirled Flora, delighting the young girl and said, “Not a bad dancer for a gremlin.”

Flora merely giggled in response and ran to Owen. “You next!” she demanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him with glee.

Hannah raised a brow, laughing good-naturedly. “I suppose my feet could use a rest.”

Miles, though, had other plans. “Ms. Grose, I was hoping you would honor me with a dance next.” He held out his hand in a gentlemanly offer and gave a slight bow.

Hannah gave him a warm smile and her hand. “Very well, dear.”

In the meantime, Dani had returned to Jamie’s side, an arm wrapped around the slim waist of the gardener. “I’m really going to miss them,” Dani sighed.

A corner of Jamie’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Well, uh, some good news on that front.”

Dani’s brow creased as she turned to face Jamie in silent question.

“Henry says they’ll be moving to America, after all. Says it’s time to move on from Bly. Too many ghosts.”

“What?” Dani asked with wide eyes, disbelief and earnest hope battling to display themselves in her expression. “America? Where? How? Why?”

Jamie rubbed the au pair’s arms up and down as she faced her with an amused smile. “Easy, Poppins. One question at a time.”

“Okay,” Dani agreed, attempting to remain calm. “Let’s start with where.”

“He hasn’t hammered out the details quite yet. Says he’s been talking to a few firms - places in New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, D.C. - but he doesn’t see any reason he couldn’t work remotely from anywhere.”

“Wow, okay. The kids know?”

“Not yet. Henry doesn’t want to tell them until he knows more.”

Dani nodded, turning to watch the children as they danced with Owen and Hannah. “That’s three down, two to go, then.”

The gardener tried to control a laugh, but failed, which resulted in a snort. She pulled the au pair closer to her and began swaying to the music. “Determined to keep us all together, are you?”

“Owen can open a restaurant in New York, is all I’m saying. Or, you know, Montpelier.”

Jamie hummed as she kissed Dani’s shoulder. “We’ll see, love. Hannah said we shouldn’t be afraid of our lives moving forward, and I reckon she’s right. We’ll keep in touch with everyone one way or another. Meantime,” she pulled back to lock gazes with her wife, “I’m going to enjoy married life.”

Dani’s smile spread. Her cheeks were aching from such a common occurrence. “Just how do you plan to do that, Mrs. Taylor?”

“Ooh, is it too late to take your last name? Last person I knew who went by that name was my mum, and well, yikes.”

Dani grimaced. “Sorry. I was trying to be cute.”

With a chuckle, Jamie nuzzled Dani’s nose with her own. “Success, regardless, Poppins.”

“But um,” Dani averted her gaze, looking down a mite shly. “You could,” she said softly.

“Could what?”

“Take my name. If you want, I mean.”

“Right. Jamie Poppins it is, then.”

Dani rolled her eyes and leaned away, but Jamie held her close, disallowing escape. “You love it.”

Shaking her head, but grinning like a fool, Dani nodded. “I do.”

***

Dani tip-toed in the kitchenette of the Airbnb Jamie and she were renting in Barcelona for their honeymoon, doing her best to quietly make a pot of tea. Now, was it tea leaves, water and milk in the kettle, and then the addition of sugar after the tea had brewed? That seemed right. She’d try that.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked a sleepy voice behind her.

The au pair’s stomach gave a pleasant turn when two arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She closed her eyes and smiled as Jamie’s hands roamed, one crossing Dani’s front to massage a breast and the other travelling from her hip to her thigh, devilishly slow and firm.

“Making tea?” Dani tried to say, but her words were barely audible amidst the small gasp she let out. She revelled in the casual intimacy that came with them truly being on their own. Turning in Jamie’s arms, she draped her own over the gardener’s shoulders as the other woman effectively pinned her against the counter.

“Tea?” Jamie asked with a hint of incredulity, tipping her head at an angle so that her lips were hovering above Dani’s. “You sure about that, Poppins?”

Dani gave a small laugh. “Not really,” she admitted.

“Right,” said Jamie, “this has gone on long enough. I suppose it’s my duty to show you how to make a proper cuppa now that we’re married. Come now. Turn around.”

Dani's expression became serious with concentration as she turned back to the tea. She nodded and followed Jamie’s directions, asking questions as Jamie began to make what she called a 'white without.’ Except, a few seconds in, Jamie started brushing her lips softly at Dani's ear. She took a lobe between her teeth and, well, maybe Dani could learn how to make tea some other day.

“How am I supposed to do this with your tongue in my ear?”

“Complaining?”

“Never.”

“Thank Christ,” Jamie said as she brushed Dani’s hair to one side. She rucked up Dani’s nightshirt, making Dani’s breath hitch when her arms wove around the au pair to each hold a breast. As she massaged them, she dotted kisses along Dani’s newly exposed shoulder and neck. Then all at once, she ran her hands down Dani’s stomach, to the inside of her thighs.

Dani, in the meantime, was doing all that she could to remain standing. Her heart skipped a beat with every kiss that brushed against her skin and her lungs couldn’t seem to hold enough air. It was as if her body was determined to fall apart at the seams for Jamie, and Dani was far too occupied with the ecstasy of it to mind.

Another ragged breath, and Jamie coaxed Dani to turn in her arms, to face her once more, and at last let their lips collide. And, just like that, it was like Dani could breathe again. Jamie had somehow become the very air she breathed all the while taking her breath away - a puzzle Dani had no intention of solving.

At some point, Jamie had decided Dani was wearing too many clothes, ridding her of her nightshirt in what Dani had momentarily felt was a rude interruption of their kiss. A gentle grip on Dani’s wrist guided her hands away from Jamie’s waist so that the gardener could kiss her way down Dani’s middle until she was kneeling before her. Dani’s hands, aching to touch Jamie somewhere, to hold her somehow, wove themselves into Jamie’s curls as she whispered her wife’s name into the cold morning air.

Jamie hummed in question, her mouth otherwise affording Dani’s hipbone with attention.

“I love you,” Dani answered. Simple as that.

Jamie paused to say the words back: “I love you, too, Poppins.”

“Marry me, then?” Dani said with a grin before Jamie’s tongue began to work, inching toward Dani’s center, but stopping just before it came to where Dani needed Jamie most. The heat of her breath made Dani shiver and she bit her lip to unsuccessfully stop an ingracious moan.

“Too late for that,” Jamie said as she retreated to pepper kisses along the inside of Dani’s thigh.

“We could renew our vows,” Dani suggested through another gasp as Jamie nipped at her hip.

“I think, traditionally, there’s a bit of a waiting period on that, Poppins. Say...a week?”

Dani chuckled amidst her panting, her hands gripping Jamie’s hair harder of their own volition whenever Jamie ghosted her lips over a particularly sensitive spot. “Shame. I really enjoyed marrying you.”

Jamie hummed her ascent before at last diving in to the very center of Dani’s sex, effectively ending the conversation. Dani felt tension climbing as Jamie made her tongue flat and rocked it back and forth, the sensation something like molten lava against her. In merely a few moments, Dani gripped the edge of the counter, the heels of her palms pressing into it as her hips canted forward. Jamie hummed her approval and the vibration made Dani throw her head back. “Jamie,” she managed, “please.”

And Jamie knew what she wanted, what she needed. She pressed harder into Dani with her tongue and quickened the pace. A digit teased at Dani’s entrance, and, finding Dani more than ready, slid inside. The movement was slow but firm at first, but rapidly came to match the pace of Jamie’s racing tongue. Dani couldn’t imagine feeling anything more pleasurable until Jamie added a second digit. Her vision went dark. The pitch of her voice, as she moaned out Jamie’s name, climbed higher, until finally, she and the world collapsed at once. Jamie held her in place while Dani pleaded for her to never stop.

And Jamie didn’t. Jamie would never.

After an uncertain amount of time had passed, Dani felt her presence of mind return and she caressed Jamie’s jawline to indicate that she needed a break.

The gardener rose, her fingertips slowly tracing her way up Dani’s body, followed by her mouth, until she stood before the au pair. She wrapped her arms around Dani’s waist, kissing her shoulder, her neck, then her jaw ever so gently.

Dani let her head rest on Jamie’s shoulder as she caught her breath. “To think,” she began, chuckling at first and then outright giggling.

“What?” Jamie said, pulling back with a sympathetic smile.

“They gave us a license to do that,” Dani laughed.

Jamie snorted before she rolled her eyes and swatted Dani’s rear playfully. “I don’t exactly consider you heavy machinery, Poppins. I can operate you well enough without a license.”

“Still,” Dani pressed on, too amused to stop. “You have one.”

“As do you,” Jamie grinned on Dani’s lips.

“Hmmm,” Dani hummed as her thumbs tucked themselves underneath the hem of Jamie’s shirt. “I suppose I should use it, then.”

“Reckon you could do, yeah.” The words said were a bit of a tease, but Jamie’s tone had shifted to something heavier.

In answer, Dani’s grin faded. Her expression shifted to something hungrier and more determined before she pressed her lips to her wife’s. Her brows rose upon tasting herself there, but the reminder of what Jamie had been doing a few minutes ago made her realize how much she wanted to return the favor. She parted them only to lift Jamie’s shirt. She hitched one of Jamie’s legs around a hip, then the other. With her wife’s weight resting on her hips, she walked them over to the couch that came with an ocean view. Yet she only had eyes for the sight beneath her: Jamie, hair mussed from sleep and Dani’s own hands tangling themselves in her curls; her lips kissed to the point of being swollen; her eyes searching and dark.

Jamie’s brows twitched together as she smiled sweetly up at Dani. “What is it, Poppins?”

“I really love you, you know,” Dani said, surprised to hear her voice shaking slightly.

Jamie sat up to cup the au pair’s chin in her hands. “I do. And, I really love you, Poppins. Far too much, maybe. But, maybe that's all right.”

Dani felt herself melt as she hovered nearer. “What’s too much, anyway?”

“Haven’t the faintest,” Jamie smiled, drawing Dani further down into a kiss. “Though I wouldn’t hate it if you gave it the old college try.”

Dani giggled on her wife’s lips. “I can do that,” she said, before doing her very best.

****

“Well, how is it?”

Jamie lifted one brow toward her phone’s screen at the question as she popped a mini pretzel in her mouth. “Need a little more, mate. How’s what?”

“Married life!” Owen said, scoffing as if it were obvious.

“Oh,” she said with a gentle roll of her eyes and a smile. She looked toward Dani who was behind the counter, currently fussing with a bouquet for a customer that would be arriving to pick it up soon. “It’s good. Wonderful. Much the same, really, just...more.”

“And the honeymoon? How was sunny Barcelona?”

Jamie tried not to let her mind wander, but…

“Jay,” Dani said breathlessly against her neck as Jamie teased her. “Please, more.”

“Chm, good. Good. Fine. Yeah.”

“Must’ve been better than fine,” he laughed. “You’re beet red.”

“Fuck you, mate.”

Owen barked out a laugh and apparently threw his phone amidst his fits. A few expletives later, he had his camera trained back on himself. He was still wearing a shit-eating grin that Jamie was hard pressed to forgive.

“Are you two playing nice?” Dani asked with that teacher’s voice that downright made Jamie shiver.

“Yes,” Jamie and Owen said at the same time.

Dani laughed as she sat on Jamie’s lap. “Everything set?”

“Hannah has it all planned,” Owen affirmed. “We’ll be arriving the twenty-first and can stay a full week. I’ll need to be back at the restaurant for New Year’s Eve. One of our regulars has rented it out, full service.”

“We’ll get you for Christmas, at least, then,” Dani smiled. “Can’t wait. Henry and the kids will be here, just after you, on the twenty-second.”

“We can’t wait either. There’s nothing more we wish for this Christmas than to be in your presents.”

Dani turned to face Jamie. “Bad,” she said.

“So bad,” Jamie nodded in agreement, mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Tough crowd. I feel downright sleighed.”

“Goodbye, Sharma,” said Jamie.

With a bow and one last chuckle, Owen waved. “It’s literally the season of giving. Don’t be elfish.”

“Goodbye!” Jame said again and tapped her phone, ending the video call. She felt Dani bounce a little in her lap as she stifled her laughter.

“So bad,” Dani whispered, but there was a smile in her voice.

“The worst,” Jamie agreed as she looked up into Dani’s eyes, wearing a grin despite herself.

Dani nuzzled her before dipping for a kiss. “Christmas in Vermont. Think it’ll snow?”

“Here’s hoping.”

“How hard does it have to snow for flights to be cancelled? Maybe they’ll have to stick around a little longer.”

“Poppins,” Jamie chastised with amusement.

“That’s Mrs. Poppins to you.”

“Right,” Jamie said, smacking herself in the forehead gently. “Apologies, Mrs.Poppins.”

Dani decided to forgive her with a grinning kiss.

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musical-in-theory · 3 years

Text

Caught in the Crossfire

Chapter 4: Together Again and Falling Apart

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Wilbur stood frozen at the bottom of the steps as he stared at the newcomer. His eyes locked onto the mask shifted to the left of Techno’s face. It was an intricately carved boar’s skull complete with sharp tusks and menacing dark pits for eyes. It was truly fit for the man who’d earned the title ‘Blood God’. It fit the stranger in front of him that Wilbur used to call his twin.

He felt like he was caught in an unspoken competition. Whoever made the first move would lose. Looking at Technoblade, he could tell that they both were waiting for the other to speak so that they could gauge their reaction.

Techno slowly turned the rest of the way around to completely face Wilbur and put a hand on his hip. He let out a quiet sigh and said with as much casualty as he could muster, “Hey there, Wilbur.” Techno’s monotone voice hadn’t changed at all since the last time they’d spoken. Wilbur could almost let himself melt into the comfort of its familiarity, if not for how they’d left things.

He quickly stuffed his beanie into one of his coat pockets and ran a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to look far more put together than he felt. He tried to persuade his muscles to relax as well. He could handle this… new development.

“Technoblade,” Wilbur clipped. He squared his shoulders and folded his arms behind his back as he looked down at his brothers. “I wasn’t aware you were coming to visit.” He let an easy smile find its way onto his face, although it failed to reach his eyes. His eyes were like ice in their cold and clinical formality.

Techno choked out an awkward laugh, betraying his discomfort of the situation. “Yeah, well I-”

“It’s a shame you came all this way for nothing though.” Wilbur raised his voice to speak over Techno. He began making his way closer to the two on the other side of the hallway. When he was halfway to them, he continued, “As you can see, we’ve been doing perfectly fine without you here to watch over us.”

Techno fixed him with a skeptical look. Wilbur merely laughed at it. “Yes, yes, I know. Tommy and I have hit a bit of… an obstacle. But we’ve gotten through worse already, and we did it without your help.” He waved his hands about in a way that commanded their attention. He held the stage, and he’d be damned if he let either of them forget that.

He clapped his hands together and switched his gaze over to Tommy. “In fact, I was just about to talk to you about a new plan in the works. I’ll need you to contact Tubbo soon. I need to speak with him privately outside of L’manburg.” Wilbur hadn’t thought he’d agree to Dream’s plan so soon or even at all, but he knew that if he didn’t prove that he had a plan, Techno would try to lead them instead. Wilbur couldn’t bear the thought of that.

It was then that Tommy finally spoke up, “Tubbo? But isn’t he supposed to be, ya know, hunting us down?” He could see through Tommy’s failed attempt to cover up the fear he felt but decided not to comment on it. Rather he’d do the thing big brothers were supposed to do and reassure him.

“It’s alright, Toms. If you meet with him alone at night, Schlatt won’t have to know Tubbo ever even saw you. He’s only trying to find us because it would look bad for him if he didn’t. You two are practically brothers. You know he’d never hurt you.” Wilbur couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips as he saw the barely concealed flinch from Techno at the last two sentences.

Tommy muttered an “alright” but still looked uneasy. It was clear that he hadn’t been expecting this when he had called for Techno. He looked up at Techno and saw Techno looking back down at him with something resembling concern.

Techno turned back towards Wilbur again who had gone over to one of the chests. “Wilbur, I’m staying. I came all this way, and I plan on helpin’ the two of you out while I’m here.”

Wilbur’s shoulders tensed up. He should’ve expected that Techno wouldn’t listen to him. “And who said you were allowed to do that? I’m fairly certain I’ve made it clear that we don’t want-”

“I called him here, Wil.” Tommy’s voice was steady. It held a defiant tone that dared anyone to start a fight with him. Wilbur sighed. He knew that when Tommy used that voice it meant he was dead set on something, and he’d be hard pressed to talk him out of it.

“Fine, then, Tommy. You’ll be in charge of him, though. You wanted his help, well now you’ve got it. But don’t be surprised if he gets bored halfway through and decides it isn’t worth the effort anymore.” Wilbur hissed. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep his anger in check as it froze his very veins.

He brushed past his twin, not caring how his shoulder rammed into the other’s. He stopped after a step and looked back over his shoulder. “Enjoy your stay, Technoblade. Oh, and take this. It gets rather cold down here.” He tossed his beanie lazily at him and narrowed his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a rebellion to win.”

Techno and Tommy could only watch as Wilbur stepped out of the light of the torches and into the shadows of the ravine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno grasped at the fabric of the beanie in his hands. He remembered it. It was his gift to Wilbur on their first birthday spent with Phil. It was the first thing they owned that they didn’t have to steal. Wilbur was always cold, back then. Techno wondered if he still was.

Techno slipped the hat in between his hip and the belt that held his scabbard, making sure it was secure enough to not fall out unnoticed. He didn’t want to think about the implications of Wilbur being able to so carelessly give it away, especially when Techno had never known him to be careless with anything.

Instead he glanced over at Tommy who looked deep in thought. Techno hadn’t seen either of his brothers in years, but he knew that the kid was smart. He hid it behind bold moves and humor. Techno could practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating the risk of following Wil’s orders and seeing this Tubbo guy.

He took a breath in to ask him about it, but Tommy suddenly turned to him first. A big grin of false bravado was splayed across his face. “Well, you heard the man! I’m in charge! You’re my bitch, bitch!” He darted down and poked Techno in the side. “Come on, then. Wil’s probably gone mining, so we can start on… on, uh. Tech, I’m gonna level with you, man. I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing. I’ve just been mining out rooms and shit this whole time.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “I thought you and Wil already fought in a rebellion before.”

“We did! And we won! All thanks to me of course, but well… Wilbur and Tubbo were the ones that handled the supplies and shit. I did the fighting.” Tommy puffed out his chest.

Techno huffed a bit and walked over to the few chests he saw over to the side. He rifled through them and was disappointed with how little they actually had. He glanced back at Tommy and saw the boy rocking back and forth on his feet, looking anywhere but at him. Techno called to him, “Fine. I guess I can get started on makin’ a farm. You guys are really low on food, and that’s gonna be important in the long run.”

He heard Tommy groan behind him in annoyance, “But Tech, that’s gonna be so fucking boring! Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, going to the nether and getting gear?” Techno got up from his place at the chests and walked over to Tommy. He put a hand on top of the boy’s head and pushed down, ruffling his hair while he was at it.

“Tommy, don’t you know I’ve won wars with only food before?” Techno laughed as the younger smacked at the hand on his head.

“You bullied a kid by spending months just farming potatoes. Not sure that counts, big man,” Tommy deadpanned.

“It 100% counts. It was a long and arduous war. There were many times where I didn’t think I’d make it out of the battle alive. But as you well know, Technoblade never dies!” Techno let go of Tommy’s head and beat a fist against his chest. Tommy got a kick out of his theatrics. Techno wrapped an arm around Tommy’s shoulders and led him to one of the hollowed out rooms he’d seen earlier. “C’mon. I’ll show you how to get an underground farm started.”

“Please tell me we aren’t gonna plant-”

“We’re farmin’ potatoes.”

Tommy groaned again, “Fine, but if Wil asks, I told you to do this. I’m in charge, you know.”

Techno laughed again and smiled somewhat fondly at his kid brother. “Yeah, whatever you gremlin.” He cast one last glance to where Wilbur had disappeared to before ducking inside the soon-to-be farm. It may not have been the reunion he’d been hoping for, but if he could keep Tommy laughing and in one piece, he had to be doing something right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, Wilbur leaned hard against the wall and clawed at his shirt. “Fuck, fuck. Why now? Why did he have to show up now of all times?” Wilbur clenched his fist against the wall. He was finally getting a plan together, and of course someone had to waltz right in and throw a wrench in it.

Wilbur took a deep breath and slowly let both of his hands relax. Letting panic rule his mind would get him nowhere, and he couldn’t afford to stop moving forwards. Techno was here, and if he knew anything about his brother, he’d be stubborn about this and provide aid. That could be useful.

Techno was known for his ability to get the best gear and enchantments. Even if he wasn’t, having the Blood God on their side would do wonders as an intimidation tactic. Wilbur could work with this. But was the advantage worth the mental strain he’d have to endure seeing Techno’s face everyday?

“I gotta say I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d have such an ace up your sleeve so early in the game.” A familiar voice echoed through darkness. Wilbur whipped his head up to find its source and gazed upon none other than Dream.

“How the hell did you get down here?” Wilbur hissed. His eyes darted back towards the hallway where he left his brothers. “I thought we agreed to keep our partnership a secret. Which part of walking right in sounds secretive to you?”

Dream crossed his arms and fixed Wilbur with a hard stare. “It’s called a pickaxe, Soot. I can make my own entrance instead of going through yours. I’m not an idiot.”

Wilbur ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Right, right. Sorry. As you can see, I’m a bit on edge, and the last thing I need is more surprises.” He stood up straight and mentally dusted himself off. He raised an eyebrow at his ally, “What are you even doing here? I saw you not even an hour ago.”

“I heard you had a new player in the field. Wanted to come see for myself.” Dream picked at his nails. Wilbur nodded, but said nothing more. Dream picked up on the hesitation, though. “Here I was thinking that having someone strong on your side would be a good thing. Having doubts?”

“I’m just not sure that the pros of having him here outweigh the cons. He’s a talented fighter, sure, but he’s not exactly… reliable.” Bitterness invaded his tone as he thought back to broken promises and shattered bonds.

Before he could spiral too far, however, Dream’s voice cut through his cluttered consciousness, “That doesn’t have to be a problem. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but war isn’t a place where loyalty is a priority. You use what you’ve got at your disposal and go from there. Right now, you’ve got Technoblade. So use that.”

Wilbur turned away from Dream. He was right. It hurt, but he was right. He didn’t have to trust Techno. He didn’t have to form any sort of attachment. Attachment was what hurt him during the first war. Attachment was what hurt him when his old friend stole his country away from him. Attachment was what hurt him when his son tore down the walls and burned the flag. It was time Wilbur finally learned from his mistakes.

He turned his head back towards Dream. A confident smile placed itself on his face. He could work with this. “Alright, Dream. I believe I’m open to suggestions on how best to do that.” An agreement passed between the two of them. They were setting the board, gathering their chess pieces, and Wilbur didn’t plan on losing.

Thanks so much for reading! I’m having tons of fun writing this! I really hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, I’d love to hear from you. Things you liked, things you think I could do better, etc. Thanks again to my beta reader, @the-ruler-of-rabbits couldn’t do it without you!

Taglist: message me if you want on or off the taglist!

@obsidiancreates @strawberiitea @coindoesstuff @unlikelypaperwitch @corrine-370 @crazymecjc @ducklingqueen @idkhowbutimgayer @whydoilovesomanyvillians @anne-the-historian-ish @wilburs-soot @belonginthesky

#writing in theory #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot #villain wilbur #tommyinnit #tommy innit #technoblade #tubbo #tubbo_

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thirstyhellfirenacht · 4 years

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Quiet Hours 2: The Angstening

Quiet Hours

Angst, voyeurism, no happy ending/ambiguous ending, SMUT

Dewey Finn x Reader (Fem)

Beetlejuice x Reader (Fem)

Summary: Dewey Finn realizes he messed up, and continues to mess up.

Dewey Finn was no stranger to screw-ups. It was a running theme in his life, though most of the time he did manage to come out on top. With his luck it was very All-Or-Nothing; he either won or he lost. When he was in high school he met Ned Schneebly and started Death Maggot, that was a win. When they played the school talent show, that was a loss. Getting into community college after high school was a win, but dropping out had been a loss. Moving in with Ned was a win, but when he started dating Patty, that was one of the biggest losses.

The past year had been the biggest in terms of winning and losing. Last year he had been at his lowest; he lost his job, his band, his self-esteem and thought he would lose his best friend and a place to live. Then things turned around, he won so much more than he ever thought he deserved. He landed a job that he never considered but felt so fulfilling that he felt like he found his calling. He became part of a new band that rocked harder than any band he’d ever played with. His friendship with Ned was stronger than ever, even Patty seemed to have a begrudging respect for him now. He started dating again. Rose Mullens was so out of his league, she might as well have been playing a completely different sport.

And then he met you. It was karaoke night at a local bar, and when he saw you on stage singing your heart out, he knew he had to talk to you. The friendship between you to was nearly instant, each of you excitedly asking questions about the other’s music. As the months passed and you two became closer, he felt as easy around you as he did around Ned. No one else listened to him like you did, no one else checked up on him in the same way. Ned was his brother, but as the months passed he knew that you were special.

Who else would have stayed with him for a week after Rose broke up with him? Who else would have given him a spare key for whenever he needed to get away from everything? Who else would have dragged him out of bed and surprised him with a concert at a local bar? Ned was a good friend, but you always managed to go above and beyond for him. Your friendship meant the world to Dewey, and he never wanted to screw that up.

But this was reality, and reality said that Dewey had it good for too long.

When Dewey woke up the next morning, and you weren’t there he didn’t think much of it. He was used to being alone at your place. You had no problems leaving him alone in your small apartment, and it wasn’t the first time he had crashed with you after a drunk night. It had been the first time that you two had slept in the same bed together, usually he passed out on the couch. Another first was the sticky feeling in his boxers when he woke up.

It took a moment for him to remember what had caused the reaction. He shifted to sit up as thoughts of his dream last night passed through his hungover brain. There wasn’t much that he remembered, only a pair of amazing breasts and the feeling of his face against his ex-girlfriends hair as they had sex. The reminder of it caused him to get half-hard again and he shook his head, trying to snap out of it. He felt dirty having had that dream in your bed when you were right there next to him. He hoped he didn’t do anything inappropriate last night.

Still, his heart sank back in his chest as he thought of Rose. He was thankful that the break-up had happened at the end of the school year. That would give him at least 3 months to try and get over her before it was back to seeing her everyday. Right now though, the wound was still fresh and he reached for his phone pulling up your name in the contacts list.

“I had a sex dream about her... I miss Rose.” he typed. The response was almost instant.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He really was an idiot looking back on everything.

As present as you had been in those first few weeks of the break-up, you were just as distant now. Dewey didn’t blame you, after everything you had done there were other things you needed to do. You had a life outside of him, and he knew it. He knew that you couldn’t always drop everything and run to his side every time his thoughts started to become too much.

Still, there was something different now. In the time you two had known each other, there had been hours on the phone, talking and texting each other. It had been like you two had been having one long conversation since you two met so many months ago. Very rarely were you two not talking, but now... you weren’t there. You had taken a huge step back and you didn’t know why. He still heard from you every once in a while, still keeping each other up to date but...

Dewey couldn’t put a finger on it.

It wasn’t until he got a message nearly three weeks later that he put the pieces together.

“I’m going on a date on Friday!”

Dewey had never seen you date before. In the months that he’d known you, you never once expressed interest in dating anyone. Though he felt happy for you in a way, there was something sad about it to him as well. He’d hope the two of you would stay single and keep each other company. But he guessed that was just one more loss for him. The hits really did just keep coming.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he texted back.

The words felt empty as he hit send.

He missed you. He missed you and it was driving him crazy that you weren’t there.

Friday came and something in him snapped. He grabbed the key that you had given him so long ago and made his way to your apartment. Dewey needed to see you, to talk to you, to make sure things really were alright between you two.

It was still fairly early in the afternoon when he let himself in, and was surprised that you weren’t home. He wondered if you had already left on your date, and thought about going home, but not before heading into your room to use the toilet.

As he was just about to leave your room, he heard the door open and close and voices coming from the living room. Fuck, you had brought your date here?! It looked like the two of you were just now coming back home. Still, curiosity got the better of him and he peaked out the door, curious about the man you had brought back.

The man was a little taller than Dewey, with messy green and brown hair and wearing stripes everywhere. The word “gremlin” popped into his head, looking at the strange man you had invited into your home. Was this guy really your type?

You and your date sat on the couch, facing each other. From here it was easy for Dewey to watch what was going on. He told himself that he should leave, escape out the window and use the fire escape to make an exit but he couldn’t. Some sick part of him wanted to see where this was going- for your safety of course! This was all about your safety and your safety alone. This guys was clearly kind of weird and he was just looking out for you! Who cared if he’d seen weirder looking guys in his old band days?

“So, theater huh?” you asked your date, a smile on your lips.

“I tend to dabble. I do love me a good musical.” the man replied.

“Me too!” you replied excitedly. “Favorite and least favorite?”

“Favorite, gotta go with Repo the Genetic opera.” he said. “I have a thing for shows about death.”

“Oh, I love that one!” your date seemed pleased.

“Least favorite, it’s a dead tie between The Music Man and Brigadoon.”

“FUCK Brigadoon!” you laughed in delight.

A weird feeling spread through Dewey. You and him used to talk about music all the time, how come you’d never brought up that you like musicals? As he watched the two of you enthusiastically talk about different shows, he felt something in the pit of his stomach. It almost felt like-

“Jealous?” the man asked, snapping Dewey back into reality. He had zoned out and that single word made him jump. Him? Jealous? Of what?

“Very.” you nodded. “I haven’t had sex in... weeks.” you hesitated slightly at the word and Dewey was suddenly very curious. You always joked about being constantly horny but you never talked about your sex life- hell he assumed that you didn’t actually have one. Who had you been having sex with?! He thought you two told each other everything!

“Something wrong, Doll?” the man asked, and you seemed to shift nervously. What was going on in your head?

“It’s probably not good first date talk but I guess I’ll tell you.” you started. “I’ve only had sex once in the past few months and the last time it happened it... wasn’t exactly the best.”

“Yeah? What happened?” your date pressed on.

“I had sex with my best friend.” you admitted, playing with your hair nervously. “But he didn’t realize it was me.”

Dewey’s entire body went stiff and his eyes widened. What the fuck were you talking about?

“I- we went out drinking, and passed out in my bed.” you explained carefully. “And we woke up in the middle of the night and he said he was feeling much more sober and one thing lead to another and...” you took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes with the palm of you hands. “He thought it was a sex dream.”

“That’s rough.”

“He thought it was a sex dream with his ex-girlfriend.”

“Yikes.”

Dewey stared at you as everything fell into place. The distance between you two, the lack of interest in dating, the fact that you would barely talk to him. Guilt clenched at his stomach, and he felt awful. Had he really done that to his best friend? Was he really still that selfish and self-serving after everything that had happened?

The answer seemed to be yes.

“It wasn’t even good sex.” you laughed, a tinge of sadness in your voice. “I didn’t even get to kiss him- and I definitely didn’t get to cum.”

Dewey winced at the words. How had he managed to fuck up this bad?

“That’s a shame.” your date said, a devious smile crossing his lips. “Because if I had the chance to see you naked, I’d make sure you were more than satisfied.”

Kick him out. Dewey’s mind suddenly screamed. He’s just a horny bastard. He just wants sex! Come on, I’ve seen you turn down guys, kick him out. He was a hypocrite and he knew it but dammit, he wanted this new guy gone. He had to talk to you, he needed to apologize to you and every moment that this douchebag was here was a moment that he had to live with knowing that he hurt you.

To his dismay, you smiled back at him. “Oh yeah?” you asked. “And what exactly would you do to me?” The air in the room shifted, and Dewey knew he had to leave. He knew he needed to back away and climb out the window and get down the fire escape. He needed to leave, he should leave-

Bright green eyes met chocolate brown ones and his body suddenly felt frozen in place. Your date was looking directly at him. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to send a message; I’m going to fuck your best friend, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The other man leaned in and whispered something in your ear that made you gasp. You whined as he kissed from your ear to your jaw all the way up to your lips. Dewey couldn’t pull his eyes away as you let out sounds of pleasure as your date started kissing along your neck. Had you made those kinds of noises when it was Dewey? He racked his brain trying to remember anything of that drunken night.

The two of you continued to kiss, and Dewey continued to be unable to look away. He let out a shuddering breath as you willingly removed your shirt, tossing it off the side of the couch. From this angle he couldn’t see your chest, the back of the damn couch was blocking most of the view. He never hated a couch so much, especially one that he had been lucky enough to crash on so many nights before.

“Beej...!” you gasped out as the man seemed to focus on kissing down your body. What kind of a name was Beej? What was that short for something? An unpleasant feeling was spreading through Dewey’s chest.

Beej sat back up and moved you so that you were sitting on the arm of the couch, giving Dewey a perfect view of your bare torso. Your eyes were closed in pleasure as Beej stared at him again with a smirk before cupping your breasts in his hands and carefully teasing your nipples. As he watched from the sidelines, Dewey remembered the night of his “dream” and the pair of tits that he remembered seeing. Fuck, those had been your breasts. How long had your chest been that perfect looking?

Between your moans and your bare chest, Dewey felt his cock start to stiffen. He tried to will it away, but with every whimper escaping your throat his cock grew more needy. This was wrong, this was so wrong but he still found his hand slowly rubbing at the bulge in his pants.

He watched and Beej kissed his way down your body, biting and sucking different places. You let out an especially wonderful noise when he left a hickey on your side. One of your hands was tangled in his hair while the other was keeping you steady on the couches arm.

Beej sat back up, smirking at you. Dewey couldn’t see what his hands were doing, but whatever it was, you were enjoying it. Your nipples were hard and your whole body was shivering slightly in pleasure. He squeezed himself through his pants, his thumb circling the button on his jeans. Was he really thinking about doing this...?

Holding you steady, Beej moved your leg over the back of the couch allowing Dewey to get a look at the panties hanging from your ankle. Beej then disappeared on the other side of the couch, but by the loud whine escaping your lips it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on.

You threw your head back as Beej ate you out, and Dewey bit his lip and fumbled with his pants pulling his needy cock out. It felt disgusting, it felt amazing. It was clear that this was a power play that Beej was pulling, but at the moment Dewey didn’t care. Fuck, how had he never noticed how sexy you were?! As he stroked his cock he wondered what Beej was doing to be making you moan like that. Were his fingers thrusting inside you, or was your clit so sensitive that even a few soft licks were enough to have you a quivering mess? He stroked the head of his cock at the thought, unsure of what idea he liked more.

Dewey bit back a groan as he stroked and watched your face in pleasure. When was the last time he felt this turned on? His cock was throbbing in his hand, needy and pulsating. Every inch of his body was telling him to run over there and shove your date out of the way. He needed to prove to you that he wasn’t useless in bed and could absolutely make you cum if he’d just have one more chance...!

“Oh... oh fuck I’m so close....!” you gasped out, you leg twitching so much that the panties on your ankle fell to the floor. “Oh please don’t stop... please don’t stop.... Plea- oh fuck BEEJ!” Dewey watched in awe and jealousy as your whole body seized up and you came with a scream of the mans name. Dammit, that should be his name on your lips...!

Beej sat back up, making a show of licking his lips. That bastard. You smiled at him, face flushed red from pleasure.

“That was amazing.” you said quietly. “I haven’t come like that from someone else in a long time.”

“Anytime, babes.” Beej purred and pulled you into a long slow kiss that you melted into.

Dewey still couldn't look away as he took in every inch of your post-orgasm body. It should be him kissing you and comforting you right now, but it wasn't. He wrestled with his feelings, trying to decide if this was real. He was sexually attracted to you; that much he understood. That was easy. But what else?

Was this jealousy just because you weren't at his every call anymore? Was it because he always had a need to prove himself in everything he screwed up? What did he actually want? Did he want you because he actually wanted you, or did he now want you because he was alone and you weren't?

He watched as you crawled on Beejs' lap, straddling him. In this position it would be so easy for you to look over and see him peaking at you and your date. Dewey really should leave, he should turn and not risk getting caught-

A long moan escaping your lips stopped him in his tracks and made him squeeze his cock again. He could tell that you had settled on your dates cock and started riding him. You looked so damn beautiful when you were in so much pleasure. Beej leaned in and his lips pressed along your neck again, and by the sounds of your whimpers he was going to leave some marks.

Dewey wished that it was him leaving the marks on your body. The hand on his cock started stroking again as he watched you. He couldn't see much other than a little below your shoulders, but God was it enough to drive him wild. The head of his cock was growing more and more sensitive as he edged himself, he knew at this rate he wouldn't last much longer, especially if you kept moaning like that. Your moans were like music to him, sending electric sparks through him and giving him the same feeling as when he played an amazing show. The sounds you made could make anyone feel like a rock star.

"P-please touch my clit...!" You begged quietly, and a shift of beej's hand signaled that he obliged. You were going faster on him, riding him as if you're life depended on it. From what Dewey had seen earlier, it was clear that you were getting close again.

Dewey hand sped up as he watched you with hungry eyes. God he wanted to be the one making you moan, he wanted to be the one eating you out and worshiping your body the way it deserved to be worshiped. He bit back a groan as he spilled all over his hand, his knees going weak from the force of the orgasm that had snuck up on him and crashed over him like a wave.

He shivered as he looked back up at you, guilt soon washing over him as the lust faded away. Guilt and jealousy and hurt. He really was a screw-up.

You looked so beautiful and you were right on the edge of orgasm again. He carefully tucked his cock back into his pants and wiped the drying cum on the inside of his pants pocket. It was gross, but he needed to do laundry anyway.

He couldn't watch you cum again with a stranger. There were too many feelings in his brain, and he needed to sort himself out. He was about to take a step back and sneak out the window when a loud gasp from you prompted him to glance at you one last time.

You were looking directly at him. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The jig was up. You were looking at him and we're going to be so mad at him. This was the end of your friendship, he just knew it.

Still, you didn't break eye contact with him, and to his surprise you opened your mouth and let out a scream of pleasure as you came again. Dewey’s eyes widened as you never broke eye contact through your orgasm and had he not just came moments before he would have probably jizzed his pants from the site alone. He watched as you collapsed on your date and he took that moment to make a run for it.

As quietly as he could, Dewey slipped away from the door and moved out the window, praying to God/Satan that you wouldn't come after him. Or maybe he wanted that? Fuck, he had no clue anymore. He had no idea what he wanted.

You.

He wanted you. He wanted you but he was too late. He screwed up harder than he'd ever screwed up before and he couldn't take it.

Dewey Finn was no stranger two screw-ups. And this time he wasn't sure if he could ever make it right.

Quiet Hours 3: The Third One

#nacht fic #dewey finn x reader #beetleejuice x reader #thirsty nacht post

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witcher-ot3 · 3 years

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List of Iorveth/Roche WiPs

Because somethings I like to torment myself by showing how many fucking things I’m working on. Doesn’t help that lately, I’ve started a new WiP every time I get stuck in another fic. So, in no particular order (literally just how the tabs are ordered in my window lmao), here are all my Iorveth/Roche WiPs

2 fics in the Petals and Stripes ‘verse - one with Roche’s POV straight after and one of the Stripes’ POV as they deal with the aftermath... and try to help their boss woo Iorveth. Surprising no one, they’re terrible at it.

Curse breaking WiP where True Love’s Kiss strong emotion for one’s enemy saves Iorveth’s life. And then he, Roche, and Triss team up to go save the Scoia’tael.

Roche’s POV WiP set before they first meet. Includes some nice knife and blood kink during a face off between Iorveth and Roche. No idea where this one is going.

Eye On You Chapter 3, for which the plan is thigh-fucking. That’s it, that’s all I got.

Fake dating casefic (The Curious Case of the Murivel Resort for Couples). rn they’re playing strip gwent and I somehow signed up to write 5 different gwent games for this 😢

Competitive makeouts (The Chase) rn they’re spiderman kissing, but there’s gonna be a conspiracy plot that Iorveth has to reveal.

New ‘verse involving Iorveth/Roche/Kayran and Roche/Foltest lmao. First WiP is Roche running into Iorveth during his monthly fuckdate with the Kayran... and then joining in. Second WiP is a comparison of Roche’s two relationships and how they make him feel. For some reason, I framed it around the Chivalric Virtues from Blood & Wine and made it a 5+1 lol

Pining and Poignards, a WiP in which there is pining and stabbing lol. A poignard is a type of knife, which Iorveth generously “gifts” to Roche. rn Iorveth is sneaking around the army base and has just caught Roche masturbating. I...only sort of know where I’m going with this one.

Tittyfucking. That’s it, that’s the plot lmao. Iorveth is a lil obsessed with Roche’s chest and attempts to fuck it.

Gross Gremlin Man aka Iorveth prefers Roche nasty and sweaty. Uh... I just started this one and somehow it went from “huh, why do I not mind Roche when he’s all sweaty” to “hmm, I think I’m gonna steal his clothes and smell them while I touch myself” and I’m still working on the transition from one to the other lol

Red is the Rose Chapters 3+4 - Ch3 is about ready for posting, but I’m trying to figure out how much of the events of W2 to cover or if I should just skip all of them and get to the post-W2 plot.

Fun fact: all of those WiPs above are in 1 document because I like to make life difficult for Google Docs. But the other docs are all specific ‘verses (or themes) and these ones are theoretically standalone. Theoretically.

More standalones

Letters - a post-W3 WiP where Roche is running Temeria and hates it and starts receiving letters from Iorveth (sealed with a forget me not in wax).

WiP where they both get captured and imprisoned in a magic cell and whoops, sex ends up happening... and then their teams come rescue them.

Cuddles with the Commander - continuation of Pride of Temeria, where Roche wakes up cuddled up with Pillow Tits and his team.

Fire Breathing - a Meet the Family WiP where Iorveth is hanging with the Stripes and PT decides to demonstrate how to breathe fire. Iorveth is more than slightly freaked out that humans have this ability.

Iorveth gangbang - uh yeah, what it says on the tin. The Blue Stripes take Iorveth apart under Roche’s guidance.

Different first meeting identity porn WiP - they meet in Flotsam just as the Scoia’tael is starting to get formed. Neither knows who the other is, but they have amazing sex and every time they’re in Flotsam together, they meet up again. But Iorveth, of course, leads the Scoia’tael, and Roche has been tasked with hunting them down.

Crones WiP - Roche went to the Crones to plead for his men back. He gets them back - but as ghosts. He also gets assigned to help work on a cure to the Catriona plague, and it turns out one of the people already working on it is Iorveth. I literally just want Blue Stripes ghosts laughing at Roche’s bad flirting, but somehow it’s mostly angst rn ooops

Love Shack WiPs

First Time WiP - this one is so close to being done dammit. It’s actually the first WiP I ever started for this pairing and it just needs like 2 more orgasms aaaaahhhhhh

Medicine WiP - morning after their first time, they have a discussion about scars and medicine and how elven medicine is way better than human medicine. Not at all based on the billions of medical procedures I’m going through or anything.

PWP Ovi WiP - uh yeah, this one is just pure porn. rn Iorveth is giving Roche his eggs and Roche is loving it.

The Picture Says It All - next is gonna be a sketch of Roche hard at work hunched over a desk and Iorveth is all “no, this is wrong, he’s meant to be wielding a sword and fighting me”

The Haunting of Barrack 8B - Adda!! Adda is officially getting introduced in the next part, which is good, ‘cause she’s important in this ‘verse (and in my heart)

Roche builds Iorveth a home WiP - oh yeah, I stalled out because I realized I had to establish Roche and Rinn’s friendship before she could give him a hint about making a nest for Iorveth

Long Live the King - WiP about Roche’s relationship with Foltest, some of what he’s done for the King, how Iorveth feels about it, and then the big finale for this ‘verse, which I will leave secret for now.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria WiPs These are only the ones that have actual WiPs started, because believe me, I have a LOT more ideas

(Im)Perfect Strangers ch 27 - time for Roche to step up his wooing. Featuring dinner, dancing, and gift giving. And, of course, it wouldn’t be me without misunderstandings lol.

Between Two Fools Ch 8 - I’m working on getting this out as soon as I can. Just gotta finish writing their sex from the end of (Im)Perfect Strangers ch 26

Unlucky Number Thirteen - I want to write about how he starts spying for Roche and their developing kinda mentorship relationship

Silas’s story - he’s literally JUST joined the Stripes and I need to write how he and Thirteen work closely together but also this poor anxious boy is like 3 seconds from a heart attack at all times rn. It will get better tho.

Earning Your Stripes ch 2 - the first time. This chap will actually have porn! But first I gotta finish writing it lol. Rn Ves and Finch are double teaming Fenn and PT and Thirteen are in subspace cuddling with Roche, but soon they’ll get to join in too.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance - cnc WiP where Iorveth asks Roche to break him - and Roche has a lot of fun doing so as they pretend to fight like they’re still enemies.

Bath House - this was SUPPOSED to be a porny lil thing where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth while they’re stuck being proper for the kids, and then finally they get some alone time. But what it also turned into is that Anais and Thirteen equally hate baths lmao. Boussy loves them tho. He’s a hedonist, while Anais is just bored and Thirteen is like a cat with water.

Tutti Ch 2 - Iorveth begins to compose a symphony for Roche about their love story.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses - the Elihal/Hattori side story. Not gotten much written so far - mostly just Elihal reflecting on his friendship with Iorveth.

The First Rule of Fight Club ch 2 - Ves now has time to think about what Ciaran said about Roche not being worthy of her loyalty. And also about how Ciaran’s skin tasted when she bit him.

Dragonfucking - another PWP WiP featuring a threesome with Saskia... except Roche still doesn’t know about the whole dragon thing, so he’s in for a surprise.

Water Balloon Fight - silly lil WiP where the Scoia’tael and the Blue Stripes have a water balloon fight. PT is the ref.

Baby Mama - lmao yes that is what it’s listed as in my doc. Not gonna say a lot about this, but will probably be a longer piece. Set in the distant future in DCfM,T.

Tempt Not a Desperate Man ‘verse Yeah, does anyone know what this is? It’s the ‘verse that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours and so far has nothing else published oops

Part 2 - in which they actually have to face each other again and figure out where they stand. And then there’s some fisting.

The Chaperon - Iorveth decides to make Roche a chaperon since the last one was sacrificed as a cum rag

Human Bootlicker - Iorveth makes a joke about Roche surrendering on his knees when he gets the upper hand in a fight between the Blue Stripes and the Scoia’tael - and then Roche actually does.

Elven Baths - so it’s kinda a thing in this ‘verse that they end up meeting and fucking in the elven baths in the Flotsam forest. As in, the legend about “if you’re in love, you can still hear the lovers’ sighs in the garden” came to being because Roche is fucking loud lmao. Also, roses of remembrance. 😉

Sort of series fics, but technically stand alone. AKA apparently I decided I wanted to do Themes.

Theme 1: Possessiveness aka all the kinky sex kinda embarrassed to admit to these which is dumb because fuck shame

Piss fic - uh, kinda what it sounds like? Roche decides to be an asshole and refuses to move out of the way when Iorveth tries to get to the bathroom - and somehow this turns into Iorveth pissing on his crotch.

Come inflation + piss fic - Roche gets a potion that makes him come a lot. Iorveth likes it and wants more.

Possessiveness - Iorveth has feelings about his nemesis and Roche does not know how to feel about this.

Tentacles + Breeding - a tentacle/vine plant instinctively tries to lay its eggs in Roche. Iorveth is not okay with this plant going for his enemy... until it turns out Roche is very much here for it. And also for Iorveth fertilizing the eggs after they’ve been laid.

Dream - Roche dreams about Iorveth being an elven king and himself being essentially Iorveth’s plaything, to use and to show off

Theme 2: King Roche aka hey, wouldn’t it be funny if he ended up in charge? He would hate it so much

Murder husbands - Iorveth breaks into the palace and finds the very unhappy “King” Roche, then they go run away and kill war criminals together. But of course Roche could never abandon Temeria, so he’s still in charge by day. But by night, it’s murder time.

Okay, technically this has like a line written for it, BUT bodyguard AU where Roche knows he’s gonna get assassinated without protection once he becomes king, and only Iorveth is allowed to kill him. So only makes since for Iorveth to become his bodyguard.

Arranged Marriage AU - inspired by softestpunk’s The Gift, I literally just want cracky fun where they are forced to get married and they hate it but also fall in love. That’s it, that’s the story.

Holy fuck, I have a lot of WiPs. But I think that’s all the Iorveth/Roche ones. Which is not to say I don’t have more, but rn, I am hyperfixated on these idiots, so these are the ones I am actively writing.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #the witcher 2 #long post #My fic

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themockingcrows · 6 years

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Whisper Just For Me Ch. 14: Rescue

THIS CHAPTER IS SFW AO3 Mirror- [X]

When you and Jade were finally given a direction as to where Dave might be, you had hopes it would be a quick and easy process to get him back. Obviously you were an idealistic idiot who was already desperate after so long apart from a loved one, but there's still hope that the lead won't be full of false directions. How can you get your ghost home and talking to you?

Eating wasn't always the answer, but it was the answer often enough that Jade felt it was a safe idea as anything else to grab some to go food to nibble on while driving or after arriving home. While you hung to your phone to listen to Rose explain things, buying some extra time in case it turned out there was somewhere aside from your apartment that needed to be driven to on short notice, she had approached a McDonald's drive through and started to place an order for the two of you.

“Hmm... Give me twenty nuggets. Uhhhh two large fries” she said, humming. How much caffeine did she feel like having at this time of day? A lot. “A large mocha frappe.”

“Rose, what the fuck do you MEAN you think Dave was typing to you?” you say into the receiver, trying to wrap your mind around what you were hearing. “He's a ghost! An old ghost! He doesn't know how computers work yet!”

“Aaaaaand a large coke,” Jade added, trying to decide what else. Might as well stock up now while they were somewhere cheap, nibble at things later or have a midnight snack. Ooh, maybe some other dollar menu things.

“John,” Rose said in your ear. “I know. Believe me, I know. This is sort of my specialty, if you've already forgotten the amount of help I've given you directly up until this point.”

“No, no, I know,” you promise.

“Maybe two apple pies?”

“Would you like to try our new strawberry and crème pie?” came the crackling voice through the speaker outside the driver's side window.

“Good. I'm glad you know,” she said. “Now we can skip the subtleties and get back to the part where I was telling you I may know where Dave is, or at least have a hint on where he might be.”

“Ah, no,” said Jade.

“YES, THAT!” you shout, too jumpy for your own good. “Sorry, jus-”

“Okay so that's twenty nuggets, two large fries, a large mocha frappe, a large coke, two apple pies and a strawberry crème pie.”

“No!” Jade hurriedly said, shooting a look your way in frustration. “No, not the last pie.”

“So no pies?”

“No, no, I want the apple pies, not the strawberry please!”

You rub the bridge of your nose and turn slightly in your seat to hold your phone closer to your ear, plugging the far ear to ignore the back and forth out the window. “Rose. Sorry, we're at the McDonald's still, can you go back to the telling me things wisely part?”

“How forward thinking of you,” she said. You can hear a soft tinkling sound, a spoon in a cup of some kind. Maybe some tea or cocoa. ...Then again, Rose is a gremlin, it's probably coffee of some kind being mixed up that you hear. “Like I said earlier, I received communication that I'm quite sure was Dave, and that I'm also quite sure was sent from the location he's at instead of by some interception of a signal. I've no idea how a thing like that would actually work otherwise, nor do I believe he's capable of that.”

“How are you so sure it's Dave though? You never said.”

“He mentioned you by name,” she said. “Was asking for help, said he was lost. Kept saying Home and John. If that's not Dave trying to get assistance from someone, then I don't know who else you've managed to attract from the spiritual realm but you need to tell me your secret.”

“You make it sound like I'm some kind of ghost gigolo and I dunno how I feel about that.”

You could practically hear Rose smile.

“Would you like the address where I'm fairly sure he's at? Perhaps you could grab him. She's not answering texts or any online pings, something's likely happened or she's just plain not home if there's no answer or no reaching out to me,” Rose said. “...Though, I don't know how open she'd be to two people barging in talking about ghosts.”

“How did he even get to wherever this place is?” you ask as the vehicle slowly starts to move forward, adjusting your weight to avoid the awkward slide when it stopped again at the first window to pay the person who'd apparently taken the initial order if the voice you heard earlier was the one you thought it was now.

“Well, unless you evicted him from his pendant, I assume Roxy found it and brought it home one way or another. Perhaps it changed hands a few times before coming to rest there. I really don't know, but I'm not sure he could have detached himself on his own for any reason. It takes a lot of effort to manage something like that.”

“Roxy?” you ask. The name's familiar from somewhere but you can't immediately place it after the long day of ups and down's you'd been having.

“She's family,” explained Rose patiently. “She's heard me discuss ghosts before, and I believe I've even mentioned your haunting to her before, but I've got no idea how much she may have retained from those talks. Ghosts were never really her thing.”

“Family of yours and not into ghosts?” Hard to imagine. The second window was approached and Jade was soon setting the crinkly bag inside on the floor for later nibbling at, and the drinks into their holders before she coasted over to a parking spot. Still no directions, and she didn't want to get on the highway and need to turn around and go the other way.

“Shocking, right? At least she likes wizards as much as I do. Shows we're still actually related. If she didn't enjoy a good wizard stroking his beard while pondering something vast and unknowing I'd be forced to disown her entirely to save myself from the shame.”

“Where's she at, though? Where's Dave at?” you ask, probing for answers. Jade has fished out a few french fries and popped them in her mouth to munch at, but she soon leaned to take her phone out as well, ready to type up the address for some proper directions. “And would she be alright with us just... dropping in? Like. As soon as we can get there? I don't want to leave him all on his own any longer than we have to.”

“Well, he's not alone I assume. Roxy does live there. She has a precious little cat too, I wonder how he gets on wi-”

“Rose. Address. ...Uh. Please,” you hurriedly add. Adrenaline was starting up in your bloodstream again, enough that you wondered if you'd been leeching it from the coke and coffee by osmosis, caffeine leaking into the air somehow like a delicious junky miasma.

“Right, right,” she said with a clearing of her throat. She paused once more and turned away from the phone to take a sip of whatever was in her mug from earlier, the slurping noise soft but too loud in your ears.

“I've not been able to hold of her, as I said, so there's a chance you may not even be able to get inside. But, perhaps, Dave will be able to respond to you in some way if you get close enough and try reaching out.”

“A hallway séance will make us so popular with whatever neighbors she has,” you can't help but mutter. The complaints died when Rose started to read off numbers and words for directions which you dutifully repeated aloud, giving Jade enough time to type in everything and get an idea of their plotted course.

“Well. It's not the moon but it'll take a little bit to get over there,” said Jade. “It seems to be a crowded area, parking might be kind of iffy too. I can just.. drop you off and we can get close as possible, or I'll put on my hazards for a bit.”

“It's not a locked down area,” Rose offered as a bit of hope. “You should, theoretically, be able to get right up to the outside of her door at the very least. I hope you can get her to answer, though, and get Dave back. Or at least verify Dave is there or not. If he's not, I'll likely need to do a bit of writing, see if this can develop into a full case study of ghosts interfering wi-”

“Hold off the thesis till we get him back, Rose,” Jade said as she got the engine purring again and backed up, already knowing the route to take to make it the quickest route possible. “We could probably ask him to do all kinds of experiments specifically to your qualifications once he's safe and sound again so we can be sure this doesn't happen again.”

Experiments. That's right. You were already going to be talking to him about what you'd found out of his history, his family, his death. ...Perhaps holding off on that for a little while would be the better idea. The thought made you feel funny in your stomach and drew your attention away from what Rose was saying in your ear. Was that the better option, or the worst one? Which was cruel? Potentially sending Dave away from something that made him happy the second he got it back, with the idea being he'd be going to the light and paradise of some kind? Or hiding all of that information and the option as long as possible to let him stay around, denying him an afterlife?

This wasn't an afterlife at all, this world. It was some awkward limbo, stress and exhaustion and threats and being completely alone aside from those who could see him or hear him and wanted to know more. In the end it should be Dave's decision.

...Yet that didn't feel better either, with how attached you'd grown. What was even the long term goal here? Stay with your ghost boyfriend till you got old and died, and hoped you could join him or both cross over or whatever? Would joining him even be a good idea? Then YOU'D be trapped forever too! And another thing, wh-

“John, you might want to set your phone down, Rose already ended the call,” you heard from your left, just loud enough to catch your attention before the sounds of the radio filled your ears, filtering into reality along with the sound of the tires on the highway rolling along at a steady pace. Sure enough, the phone's screen had gone black, though how long ago it had happened you couldn't be sure. It was kind of impossible to track getting lost in your own thoughts for a reason.

“Yeah,” you murmur, setting the phone on your lap instead as if coming out of a nap daze, looking around to orient yourself again. It was really happening. If all went well, Dave would be not only found but brought home. Safe and home again with you, just like before. Just like always. You almost didn't want to let yourself get excited in case something else happened by surprise and ruined it.

“Don't worry, John. I'm pretty sure traffic'll be on our side for this,” Jade said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But hey, give me a hand. Or, actually no, loan me a hand for a second for real and fish me out a nugget.”

“We didn't eat super long ago,” you said, fishing out the chicken and a cup of sweet and sour sauce, cracking it open carefully and giving it a dunk. Jade took the offer while leaning cautiously in her seat, letting you guide the food to her lips.

“Chicken nuggets are serious business, John, and wait for no man,” she said. “Besides, what if we need to muscle and use brute force to get Dave back?” she asked after giving a few chews and swallowing. “I'd definitely need protein for that!”

“You've got a point,” you agreed, dunking a second nugget and munching on it yourself, at peace with your temporary role of food deliverer. “I just hope this goes smoothly.”

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

Things were not going smoothly at all. When you'd arrived at the destination, it had been to a dark apartment and no answer at the door when you knocked. Though you heard the sound of a cat inside, meowing a few times plaintively in response to your knocks, there were no sounds of footsteps or thumps of someone hiding, no glow of a telltale laptop screen from behind the blinds that otherwise obscured your view from the street. It had been a struggle to heft yourself up the stairs, you felt the burn under your arms and down your back and against your palms, and yet there seemed to be no payoff.

Jade wasn't taking silence for an answer, and she thumped the door solidly with the side of her fist a few times. Perhaps she was taking the brute force comment more seriously than you'd believed at first.

“Roxy?” she called. “Roxy, Rose sent us. We're friends of hers, we're here to ask a few questions and collect something that belongs to us!”

You hissed softly. “Jade you sound like a mobster, and we don't own Dave, that's weird!”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say?”

“Something that doesn't make it sound like we turned up to break her kneecaps for drugs!” you said, urgency clear as you looked around to the other doors. “We already look out of place as it is, what if someone calls the cops?”

Jade rolled her eyes and tried knocking again, making the cat meow once more. “Well, then we can tell the police the exact same thing we're telling her. We're here to ask questions about if she's seen your pendant, and if so, to give it back. ...Can you tell if Dave's here?” she asked suddenly.

“OH. Oh, right! Rose said I might be able to,” you realized, staring at the door before closing your eyes and trying to focus. You treated it like when you were trying to help Dave go to the pendant before, like when you were trying to get better at seeing him, when you were learning to be patient when he was still just brief flickers and obnoxious noises just out of hearing. Tried to imagine his face, so much clearer now that you'd seen what he looked like in the flesh, and since you'd met Bro. Dave felt so much more real now.

“...Mmmm maybe she's not home after all,” Jade said softly, concerned. “Even if he's not here, we'd need to be able to ask her about if she'd been in contact with the pendant or anything. It's the only clue we've got so far for him.”

You didn't think you felt anything. There was no instant tug, no reach, no call of your name or flicker at the edge of your mind. Nothing. Nothing tangible enough to count as interaction at least, and yet you couldn't shake the feeling that something was here. Whether it was instinct or just the strong pangs of desperation steering those feelings, you didn't want to risk it. Giving yourself no time to second guess the feeling, you walked closer to the door before hammering on it with your own fist several times, hard enough that your joints ached and the door seemed to jump a little on its hinges.

If you'd been able to kick safely, you might have even kicked at it.

“Roxy. Roxy if you're home, open the door!” you cried. “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, ROXY, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY AND I'LL EXPLAIN LATER.”

“Oh yeah, look at you go, now you're into it,” Jade said delightedly, leaving you to your knocking till your hand hurt enough that you stopped to avoid adding another broken bone to your stack of problems. Those chicken nuggets had done a world of good! She was so proud as she took her phone out, preparing to call Rose to see if she had any ideas on what to do. Or, perhaps, where a spare key of some kind might be. Did hiding apartment keys even work if everyone lived in the same building but different parts? If so, every inch of the front lawn must be thick with false rocks full of different keys.

“I don't know how to explain it, Jade, but we need to get in there. We can't go home even if she's not here.”

“Am I hearing you right, Mr. I Don't Want To Sound Like We're Here To Kneecap Someone himself?”

You sulked and looked over your shoulder at her.

“Look. Kicking in a door is different from threatening someone,” you reasoned. “I'm sure Roxy is great and I wish her many happy days, and will be more than happy to pay for the door replacement if it comes to that, but I'm not leaving till we get inside.”

The door opened a crack before you even realized anyone was approaching it from the inside, but it wasn't a face that greeted you. Instead it was a baseball bat, pointed as if signaling a home run was imminent and your head would be the ball. The woman on the other end was in her pajamas, hair mussed, fatigue clear. She looked stressed, she looked a bit scared, and most of all she looked a hell of a lot like Rose.

“....Roxy?” you asked cautiously, lowering your hands to hold your ground and keep your balance. Startled? You? Pssh.

“Who's askin'?”

“Uh. ….Us? Thought that was kinda obvious,” Jade said, lowering her phone. Success! Person located! “There's no way you're not Roxy, you look exactly like Rose! LaLonde genetics do not disappoint.”

Roxy makes a face, confused, uncertain if she should be flattered by a compliment or skeeved out. It was not the right time of night for this, maybe if she'd gotten a full night's sleep and gotten rid of that... that thing that was lurking in the salt ring in her kitchen.

“Wait. Rose?” she said, realization lighting her eyes. The bat remains raised threateningly, but her grip looks less certain now as she hesitated, assessing the situation best she could on the fly.

“Yes, Rose told us to come, you can call her to verify if you want! She's been unable to call you,” you hurriedly reply.

“My phone's toast, no wonder she couldn't reach me. I've been havin' a bitch of a day. A week, even,” Roxy said with a shake of her head, finally slowly beginning to lower the tip of the bat to the ground. “But, what, she send her.... friends?” she said, guessing as Jade nodded a bit, “to check up on me just 'cause I couldn't get online for a night? Overkill.”

“Why couldn't you get online?” you asked.

“Laptop was in a state when I got home from work and stuff finally, the battery was all bloated out and lookin' like it was fit to explode any time,” she grimaced. Your heart lifted once more, the trail warm, but Roxy didn't miss the look you tried to give her apartment over her shoulder or the hungry hopeful look in your eye. “So. Why're you here? Spill, I wanna go back to bed.”

“We're here abo-”

“Can we come in to talk?” Jade intervened suddenly, moving forward to gesture and make friendly. “He's still recovering, and on top of it the matter's a little private and we already made enough of a scene trying to get you to the door.”

“I'm blamin' ya'll if the cops turn up, that was a hell of a racket,” she groused, flipping the light switch inside the door on and stepping back to allow entrance to the two of you. “Thought I was getting mobbed by Yakuza or something.”

You sigh and look at Jade before making your way into the living room, looking around more directly for any hint of Dave. Roxy beckons you to the sofa, offering you the space as she sat in another spot and crossed her legs, setting the bag entirely on the ground. Jade stayed on her feet, idly looking around as well. While she wasn't as sensitive as you were to the presence of Dave, she definitely knew what the pendant looked like and hoped she'd spot some kind of trace of it. You sat your crutches down on the ground and leaned forward, searching for the sweet spot of comfort for your body to rest in while hurriedly trying to think of something normal to say.

Yes hello we're here to take back my ghost boyfriend you accidentally might have kidnapped, he lives in a pretty pendant I was given by Jade here, and we got separated after he possessed my body and we got into a car wreck! Please don't call the cops! We are perfectly normal and not crazy robbers at all, promise!

This was a disaster and nothing had even happened yet.

“Hah!” Wow, that laugh was way too loud wasn't it, more bark than giggle. Shit. Be cool, be cool! “We were.. uh. Well. I mean, we were just.”

Roxy was staring now, eyes narrowing a bit at your baffling display. You stopped, took a breath, and slowly exhaled.

“Have you gotten any new jewelry recently?” you finally asked, starting to gesture with your hands. “About yea big, green toned?”

She flinched subtly and took a breath, but didn't immediately say anything. Instead, her eyes flickered up and past you before focusing on your face.

“Green toned?”

“Yeah, it's a rock that looks kind of like jade does, and it's set into a pendant? Has whorls of lines on it..?” you asked hopefully. “I got into an accident recently, and I haven't seen it since.”

Roxy wet her lips, fingers curling loosely into fists as she seemed to think something over. Finally, she nodded a bit.

“Yeah. I might have something like that. Found it not too long ago. Was going with a co-worker to a quick on-site call for a client we deal with, they'd gotten some new computers they wanted set up and linked to the rest of their system in a new way,” she said, then shook her head briefly to focus herself. “Their car made some funny noises, we pulled over so they could check under the hood, I got out to stretch my legs. Saw somethin' shiny. ...Took it home.”

You tried to stand for a brief stupid moment, lurched, fell back, and then threw yourself Roxy's direction along the sofa faster than you thought you could move. Your leg thumped downward, hard, and bounced the cast off the ground with a solid thump that ached through your nerves like sick lightning. It took your breath away, forcing you to lower your head despite the frantic lunge, gritting your teeth hard enough your jaw ached. Jade, bless her, ignored your pained reaction in favor of lunging as well.

“Where is it! The pendant I mean, you still have it right? Is it here? Is it damaged?”

Roxy, uncomfortable with two strangers lunging at her in her own living room in such quick succession picked her bat back up and sidestepped around Jade to feel less cornered. She glanced towards a darkened doorway before looking back to the pair of you.

“You're gonna think I'm a nut. No, it's not damaged I don't think but it's. ..Something's weird with it.”

“Weird how?” Jade asked, following to Roxy's new location without hesitation. She was never the best at picking up things like personal space, but in cases like this it was all for the best. You started to recover from the dizzyingly painful jolt, running a hand through your hair.

“It's. ...I don't know, okay! All I know is weird shit's been happenin' since I brought that thing home, and I think it might be haunted or some shit,” she hurriedly said, clenching her eyes shut to avoid your gaze. She tightened her grip on the baseball bat, lifting it to rest against her own shoulder and tap there a few times. “Don't laugh, alright?”

“I mean. Funny story,” Jade said, smile quirking to life on one side of her mouth.

“It's haunted,” you say, getting up on your crutches and wobbling before stabilizing yourself. “It's haunted by someone very important to me, and we need him back safe and sound. His name is Dave, please, where is he?”

“...Shit, are you two like Rose then? Ghost talking and stuff?”

“Yes,” Jade said. “Please, though, it's terribly important that we get him back as soon as possible to ensure everything is okay. Where is he?”

Roxy fiddled with the bat again, and slowly looked over her shoulder to the dark doorway of her kitchen once more. “Uhm. ...It's in the kitchen. Under the colander, with the salt and stuff. Rose said salt stops ghosts or something before so I just. ...You're sure it's not something evil and bad?”

Jade was already on the case again, flicking on the light and rustling the colander off of the much missed necklace. “It's the right one!” she cried. You almost felt bad for Roxy's neighbors at this point, you hoped she didn't get in trouble with the management because of you and Jade being so loud. Hurrying quick as you could, you made it into the kitchen right as she lifted the pendant up on display for you.

“DAVE. Dave, shit, you were here for real. It's okay now, we're here. Are you okay? Nothing went wrong, right?” you asked, leaning more of your weight to one crutch so you could reach out for the pendant, holding it tightly in your hand as if it would disappear if the proper pressure wasn't maintained on its entire surface.

There was no response, no flicker of light.

“.....Dave?” you asked, voice an anxious chuckle. You jiggled the pendant a bit, rubbed it with your thumb and tried to focus in on it over the hammering heartbeat in your ears from the amount of adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream right then. “Come out come out wherever you are.”

Roxy remained cautiously outside of the kitchen, but stood there watching with the same confused expression from earlier. She stooped down to stroke the head of a dark cat who had slithered around her ankles, finally unphased enough by the strange human guests now that it was safe to wander among them. When Roxy straightened up next, the cat was in her arms and being pressed over her shoulder, his sturdy hind limbs hanging limp as a doll.

“Is it broken? Or did that Dave guy like. Leave my house.”

“No, no, it doesn't look broken,” you promised, wetting your lips reflexively. “Uh. ...Uhh... shit. Okay. When did you last see activity in your house? He loves knocking things off shelves and rattling papers and books and anything he can vibrate or flip around easily.”

“Earlier I think, I don't believe for a second my laptop fucked up on its own or because of my cat here. Battery all puffed out and fucked, entire setup I was working with toast. Thank fuck for the cloud or my project'd prolly be long gone too.”

“So he was just active earlier at some point... nothing else?”

“There was a red light.. before I shoved it in there,” explained Roxy, jiggling Mutini on her shoulder briefly. “I'd picked it up and it went all red and bright and intense, but I think it's been quiet since then. I kinda went in to try sleeping, till you two turned up.”

The pendant didn't feel warm, and you saw no light, but there was no denying that sense that Dave was there. Salt was apparently more scary than you'd realized, if it had been able to block even your feelings of him so intensely till lifted out of it. You rubbed at the pendant again with your thumb before carefully bringing it closer to your face, pressing your lips to it instinctively. A kiss hello? A kiss as a welcome back? It felt important, offering a direct link like that, a reaching out as physical as you were trying to do mentally with your energy.

Maybe he was just very tired, the things Roxy was describing must have been absolutely exhausting for the poor spirit, let alone being trapped in such a confining way for a while.

“...Any luck?” Jade asked softly. “Is he still in there?”

“He is, I can feel it, but uh. ..No. No, not yet,” you admitted. Not everything was instant in life, but fuck did you wish it was.

“Maybe we should go home, then, and see about waking Dave up,” Jade offered quietly. “Let Roxy sleep, get your leg propped up, get Dave back somewhere familiar. Maybe if you literally sleep on it it'll help.”

You looked uncertain, but Jade's sincere tone made you reconsider your reservations and nod, tucking Dave carefully into your pocket and folding the top edge down to ensure there was no slipping loose and dropping by accident. There would be no more leaving Dave behind, accident or none.

Mutini wiggled on Roxy's shoulder and trilled till she put him down to avoid catching the business end of his busy claws, and made a beeline over to your crutches, rubbing against them fondly.

“He's been on edge for a while,” Roxy said. “...I was worried he was getting sick or something lately, but I think that thing was spooking him. I guess he knows you're taking it away now?”

“Him. His name is Dave,” you say, adjusting your grip on the grips of your crutches and bow your head to her. “I'm sorry for all this, Roxy, really I am. For the laptop and everything else he must have done, for scaring your cat, for waking you up and making such a ruckus. I'm really sorry.”

“Oh! No, no it's okay,” she said. It wasn't, but you understood what Roxy was trying to get across, more or less. “I mean. It's a- he. He's a ghost, right? Must be confusing and stuff.”

“You've got no idea,” you sigh.

Jade touched your shoulder, firm and steadying and wonderfully solid. Right. You needed to focus on getting back to the parking spot and getting home and up to bed.

“Let's go, John.”

“We'll be in contact, if that's okay,” you added as you turned. “Through Rose. Try to get hold of her when you can, let her know how you're doing. We'll let her know you're okay when we get home though,” you promised.

You and Jade left Roxy in her living room with an affectionate cat and her baseball bat, locking the door behind you with the intention of somehow going back to bed if at all possible. Jade drove silently, following the more familiar highway paths once she'd gotten back on track, the radio low and gentle in the background. You mulled your time over with your hand in your pocket, fingers curled tightly around the pendant, willing and willing with all of your might that you'd feel Dave's push or hear his voice again.

He was there. He was definitely there, the feeling was staying with you the entire drive. There, but maybe sleeping. Still dead but not entirely gone.

Bed was a welcome reprieve after such a long day of wandering around and being upright, Jade retiring to the couch after making sure you were set up and comfortable. Your hands were bruised and painful, as were the spaces beneath your arms and along your shoulders and neck. Your leg was throbbing even through some painkiller and being propped up, and you were tired enough to not fucking care about brushing your teeth or dealing with changing clothes. The pants came off and that was the best you were going to get done. The pendant was placed on a new cord, firm and comfortable on your neck when you put it into place, tucking the stone portion beneath your shirt so you could feel it on your skin as you went to sleep.

You gave in to unconsciousness hoping against hope that you wouldn't be alone in your dreams that night.

#Homestuck #JohnDave #John Egbert #Jade Harley #Roxy LaLonde #my fic

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