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twistedtummies2 · 3 years

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Descending From the Sky - Part 1 (500 Followers Special)

IN CELEBRATION OF 500 FOLLOWERS...! (freezes as someone whispers in my ear) ...Eh? You...say I have 509 now? ...Frick. WELL, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Something a lot of people have wanted me to write - on this site as well as an alternate site I frequent - is a “rampage story.” You know the type: macro-sized predator goes stomping around eating people and causing destruction in their wake. I have several ideas for such tales, though most of them are still in the “pre-production” stages. I decided to go with the one that could offer me the clearest possible plot, and which I know a few people were hoping to see: this is the third chapter in my Giant AU for My Hero Academia, based on Jack and the Beanstalk. In the past two sections, Midoriya and Kaminari went up to see the Giants. THIS time, however, one of the giants comes down to Earth themselves. I mustn’t say more though, or I shall spoil the fun. This is a two-parter; part two will be up tomorrow. As is typical, this first section is mostly just expository stuff and...well...actual STORY than anything else. Most of the “fun stuff” will be in tomorrow’s second half. Keeping this in mind, I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the support!

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Three months had passed since Izuku Midoriya and Denki Kaminari had descended from the beanstalk with the Golden Eggs.

The result of their fortunate adventures were plainly visible: the farm where they both lived had become far more prosperous. The fields had been able to widen, as their master, Aizawa, had been able to hire new farmhands, buy new equipment, and even purchase a new cow for milking! (Although Izuku couldn’t help but notice how much whiter Milky White’s output had always been.) The farmhouse had been repaired, and plans were in motion to construct a larger building, all while a second barn was being built to house all the new supplies. Over all of this rising splendor towered the magnificent beanstalk...and on the unusually hot morning where our story begins, the boys were very glad about that. Kaminari sighed as he paused in his work, wiping his brow with a spotted handkerchief before stuffing it back into his pocket. Though the boys could afford nice clothes, they usually wore their old peasant garb while working After all, there was no point in ruining the good stuff. “Y’know something, Midoriya?” he mumbled out, looking up. Midoriya paused, putting down his hammer and looking down at Kaminari. His expression was wide-eyed and attentive. Kaminari huffed, leaning against the side of the shed the two were in the process of building. “Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” “Yeah, that’s a fact,” Midoriya said, with a small smile, and chuckled, turning his freckled face back towards his work. He was standing on a ladder and tapping nails into place to hold the roof boards. Kaminari was holding the nails in a jar, and passing them up, and was supposed to be holding the ladder. In that moment, however, the distracted blonde was more focused on the jar, biting his lip as he stirred the nails boredly. The pair had been alternating positions every couple of boards, since, obviously, it was a lot more work to hammer than to hold. Not that the heat made either of the stations particularly fun. Kaminari tried to get a bit of shade from the side of the shed, but as the Sun was facing in the wrong direction, there was no shade to be had. “What I mean is,” Denki went on, “I thought all this extra stuff would make our lives easier: a little less of a workload on us. Instead, it feels like we haven’t a chance to just...you know...breathe.” “I know,” Midoriya murmured, pausing in his work and dipping his head. “Nor a chance to visit our friends ‘upstairs.’” “Friend. Singular,” Kaminari corrected. “Unless you count that mean man-eater as a friend…” Both of the teens shuddered, and Kaminari even crossed himself. Midoriya shook his head and refocused on hammering as Kaminari passed up another nail, and made sure to grab hold of the ladder with one hand. He didn’t want Midoriya to fall over. For one thing, it would be kind of embarrassing if either of them broke an arm falling from a ladder after managing to climb up and down a mammoth beanstalk and never tumble once.

“Mr. Aizawa says that after this is built, we should be able to rest a bit,” Midoriya said, with a bright-eyed smile that made his green irises look like emeralds. “Maybe we’ll get to go back up there in a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” murmured Kaminari, and frowned. “Hey, do you think he’s giving us extra work to keep us from going up there?” Midoriya frowned and turned carefully on the ladder, looking to the beanstalk, then looking over the farmland...and shook his head again, this time in disagreement. “No,” he answered, and continued hammering; the boards were hard and the nails long. “With everything going on, I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt there. There’s just...so much expansion, with all the buying and selling we’ve been doing…” “I’m glad he let us keep those Golden Eggs!” grinned Kaminari. “They look cool in the bedroom.” Midoriya nodded wordlessly in agreement, and began to descend the ladder. It was Kaminari’s turn to take care of the next few boards-and-nails. “We’ll get back there soon,” he said. “Things just have to get harder before they get easier.” “That’s one way of looking at it,” shrugged Kaminari, giving Midoriya the nail jar as he took the hammer. He bit his lip and looked off to the side. Midoriya tilted his head, concerned by the unhappy expression on his friend’s face. “Hey...something else wrong?” he asked. “Just...when I went up there last time…” Kaminari trailed off...took a breath...and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s just get back to work. The faster we finish, the faster we can get inside where it’s cool.” Midoriya looked skeptical, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted the pair… “It’s going to take a little longer than expected to do that.” The boys looked up. The baggy-eyed figure of Aizawa was approaching the pair. The teens stiffened, almost as if standing at attention. “Good morning, Master!” they chorused, as if speaking to a drill sergeant. Aizawa rolled his eyes and made a grumpy sound. He made a lot of those. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. Yet,” he mumbled, then went on a bit more clearly: “I need you two to stop work on the shed today. There’s another job for you both now.” The teens looked at each other, then back to the head farmer. “Um...no offense, sir,” Midoriya spoke up, and sounded sincerely polite and curious as he spoke, “But why not get one of the others to do it?” “Or do it yourself?” suggested Kaminari, in the same tone. Neither sounded defiant, just a little confused. Aizawa crossed his arms and sighed through his nose, looking out over the farmland, watching the new helpers hoe and shovel and rake away… “I have to stay,” he said, simply and strictly. “And as for the rest of the farmhands…” He looked back to the pair somewhat earnestly. “...I trust you both more than most of them.” The two boys practically had stars in their eyes. “You...you trust us?” peeped Midoriya. “Really?” Kaminari gasped. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he droned, drably. “I trust Mineta more than you both, and he’s a donkey. And I trust my dog more than I trust him.” The pair ducked their heads with nervous, bashful smiles. Kaminari scratched the back of his head, kicking an imaginary pebble, while Midoriya rubbed one arm, trying to look anywhere but into Aizawa’s face. Aizawa rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. “Ahem...the new help has loaded the wagon with produce to take to market,” he informed the pair. “Change clothes and hitch the horse up, then take it all. And this time, PLEASE don’t try to trade anything on the way for Magic Beans. One big green liability is enough.” He looked to Midoriya pointedly with those words. Midoriya gulped guiltily. “We’ll do our best, Master,” Kaminari promised, and slung an arm around Midoriya as he gave a cocky grin. “Just leave it to us! We’ll come back with more money than you can shake a stick at! Although I don’t know why you’d want to…” Aizawa just made another grumpy sort of sound and paused before going on… “Mind your way through the forest. Don’t stray from the path. Keep the cart moving on its course: some of the new boys have said they’ve encountered robbers in the woods, ever since…” He pointed up towards the clouds indicatively. “We’ll be careful, Mr. Aizawa,” vowed Midoriya, then looked to Kaminari. “C’mon, let’s get moving!” The duo folded up the ladder, and darted off to put away their tools before getting ready for the journey to market. Aizawa watched them go, then looked back to the partially finished shed, then turned his gaze heavenward. He glared as he looked at the top of the beanstalk...or, at least, the furthest point he could see, as it disappeared beyond the blue sky’s crest. He shook his head and pinched his brow as he walked off to see about feeding the chickens. “This place has never been the same,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I could decide if that was good or bad…”

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Meanwhile, in the Land of the Giants… “Sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” The red-haired, fang-toothed giant known as Kirishima looked with concern to his friend. His fellow titan, Bakugou, narrowed his own crimson eyes, a sour expression on his face as he lounged on a sofa in their living room. “Hell’s that s’posed to mean?” he sneered. “What do you think’s gonna happen while I’m here?” Kirishima opened his mouth to answer...then closed it again. “...Never mind,” he shrugged, and gave a cheerful smile as he slung the leather backpack over his back. “Anyway, I better get going. Tamaki’s probably gonna get all anxious if I’m late; start thinking if I still wanna be his friend, and so on…” “Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, and took a sip of the coffee he held in his hand. “How come you hang out with that wuss anyway? He’s softer than you are!” “Hey, you can’t pick your friends!” “Yes, you can,” droned Bakugou, boredly. “It’s family. You can’t pick your family.” “That, too.” Bakugou blinked slowly, his expression tremendously dull as he took another drink. “Whatever. It’ll be nice to not have your dumb hair poisoning my vision,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too,” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou just grunted, taking yet another drink. He licked his lips thinly as Kirishima tilted his head. “Hey...you certain you’re alright?” “What makes you think I’m not?” “I dunno...just...you’ve been a lot quieter lately. And you haven’t gone down to mess with the little guys in a couple of months. Not that I mind that at all…” He grinned. “Am I rubbing off on you a little, maybe?” “Dream on. I just haven’t had an appetite for ‘em.” “Uh-huh. Sure,” Kirishima mumbled, sounded unconvinced, and gave a smile. “Well...anyway, I’ll be back by tomorrow. Guard the house well!” “The fuck do you mean ‘guard the house well’?!” snapped Bakugou, barking out his annoyance. “DO I LOOK LIKE A DAMN GUARD DOG TO YOU?!” Kirishima sniggered, and responded with a jaunty mock-salute. Whistling merrily, the friendly giant thus left the house. Bakugou growled (ironically sounding VERY much like an angry guard dog), his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he finished his drink. He stifled a burp in his ballooning cheeks - “HHHMMMRRRLLLRRRPH...grm…” - and swallowed the excess gas back down, thumping his bare chest with a beefy fist before rising to his feet. The Barbarian-garbed colossus then tromped back to the kitchen, cleaning his cup and putting it aside to drain and dry. In truth, there was something on Bakugou’s mind. Something that had been buzzing around in his brain for months, and had become increasingly more annoying. I climbed a beanstalk to the top of the sky...I befriended a giant, was able to hide from another...and I was able to make my whole village happy, and even the king...do you think anyone who’s ‘just meat’ could even think of all that? The giant ground his teeth together, fingers twitching again. “Worthless little runt,” he growled to himself. “What does he know?” The little one Kirishima called “Midoriya” wouldn’t leave his mind. He kept trying to force the small one’s words aside, but the pathetic rat wouldn’t get out of his head. It was starting to drive the titan insane. He’d spent his whole life eating humans. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and all around better than they were. It was the law of the jungle: they were SUPPOSED to fill his belly. It was just their fault they were so small and tasty! That’s how he’d always justified it. That’s how he’d always felt about it. And it wasn’t as if he ate indiscriminately. But now… Someones gotta knock some sense into you, Bakugou! You can’t just eat people, it’s...it’s not right! And if one of my friends is in danger...I’ve got to do whatever I can to help them! No matter what! Bakugou snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. The little vermin had guts. What he wouldn’t give to introduce them to HIS guts... Still...he hadn’t been down to eat in months now...and the truth was, what he’d told Kirishima was true. He just...hadn’t been in the mood to eat little people in a while. It was really starting to piss him off, because this had never happened before. They were his FAVORITE food...so what was holding him back? GRRROOORRRLLLB… Bakugou winced and hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand to his belly. His fingers rubbed over his bare, strong, well-sculpted abs as his stomach gurgled and “brumbled” noisily. So far, all he he’d had that morning was coffee. It seemed his gut was demanding something more substantial. For a moment, the thought of dozens of squirming little morsels flashed in his mind...but he shook that thought away with a toss of his messy blonde locks, and instead relaxed slightly as he stomped towards the icebox. “Something light oughta kill those damn noises,” he muttered coarsely. “Where’d I put those cold cuts…?”

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The wagon full of pumpkins, apples, cucumbers, potatoes, corn, and all sorts of other home-grown delights rattled along the semi-level road that twisted and twined its way through the forest. Kaminari sat beside Midoriya, who held the reins, while an old gray mare hauled the cart along at a steady trot. “Easy there, Chiyo,” Midoriya smiled gently, as the horse huffed softly, ears flicking at a noise from somewhere in the underbrush. “Just a jackrabbit.” “Hopefully,” mumbled Kaminari, then cocked his head to the left. “Say, Midoriya? Do you think we’ll run into that Yagi guy who gave you the Magic Beans?” “I doubt it,” Izuku said wistfully. “I get the feeling that was a one-time deal, or something.” “Hm. Got it,” Kaminari grunted, looking away again, a somewhat pensive, pondering look on his face. Midoriya’s smile faded. “Kaminari...seriously, what’s been bothering you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re thinking. A lot. That’s...very unusual for you.” “Hey. Thinking is dangerous. It can lead to headaches.” Midoriya smirked and chuckled, then paused, pulling the horse to a stop. “Come on,” he said, gently, placing the reins at his side nad putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “We should keep going,” he said, quietly. “Aizawa said there were-” “We’ll be fine. Talk to me. We’re friends, right?” “Right...well, um...it’s just…” Kaminari took a deep breath, and let it out before speaking. “...I’ve felt...really bad ever since I went up the beanstalk.” “Bad as in sick?” “No, just...bad. Emotionally. I really messed things up, and I almost got killed for it. I was being greedy and stubborn and selfish, and...look, I still love money-” “And girls.” “Well, duh, girls are what make life worth living, and money helps there.” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, still smiling. “But seriously,” Kaminari went on, shifting his position so he could look Midoriya in the face, “What I did was wrong and...well...kinda stupid, even for me. I wanna make up for it somehow, just...I don’t really know what to do. And with all the time that’s gone by-” “I forgive you.” Kaminari stopped short. “I forgive you,” Midoriya said, his smile gentle and friendly. “And I know Kirishima forgives you, too. If it makes you feel so bad, we’ll find a way to go up there and see if you can do something more. I wanna go back up there just as much as you do. But work’s gotta come first.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Kaminari sighed...then smirked, and adopted a dramatic pose, pointing forward. “Well...drive on, my good man!” Midoriya snickered at Kaminari’s over-the-top impression of a pompous nobleman. “Yes, My Lord,” he winked, and whipped the reins, clicking and calling out Chiyo’s name. Chiyo let out a soft whinny and began to move forward again. Kaminari paused to adjust his clothes: both he and Midoriya were dressed in sharp-looking coats and breeches, so they could look more presentable at the market. “Yellow and black are good colors,” smirked Kaminari, admiring the golden lining of his jacket. He grinned somewhat sneakily. “Hey, think I’ll impress a few ladies while we’re out?” Midoriya was about to respond...but before he could - and after the pair had only traveled about twenty or thirty yards - Chiyo suddenly let out a sharp cry and came to an equally sharp stop. “Whoa, whoa, girl!” called out Midoriya, and as the horse settled, he and Kaminari frowned and stood up in the wagon to see what was the matter. The pair were surprised by what they saw: a small girl, dressed in a somewhat ratty-looking white dress. She had metallic-colored hair, almost the color of steel, and red eyes that looked like a couple of fresh, ripe cherries. The girl was trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared up at the pair. She didn’t move off the path, even as she stood. The two teens looked to each other, then back to the girl, and smiled. “Hello there!” Midoriya said kindly, and stepped down from the cart, while Kaminari stayed aboard and took the reins, just in case the old mare got a bit fidgety. The girl didn’t answer. She stayed still as Midoriya approached. His smile remained gentle and good-natured as he got down on one knee, bringing himself to the little girl’s height. “What is your name, little girl?” he asked, sweetly. The girl paused, blinking just once, before answering in a plaintive, soft voice: “Eri.” “Eri,” repeated Midoriya. “That’s a nice name.” He looked back to the wagon. “Don’t you think so, Kaminari?” “Oh, yeah. Short but pretty,” Denki nodded. Midoriya smiled a little wider, and looked back to Eri. “What are you doing out here, Eri?” he asked, carefully, and looked about with some small amount of worry. “Are your parents around?” Eri bit her lip and squirmed where she stood, looking away and hugging herself. “My...my papa needs help,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost ashamed of the words. “I...I heard your cart coming, and...c-could you...could you help me?” Midoriya frowned with concern. “Of course we’ll help,” he promised sincerely, and looked back to Kaminari. “Stay here with Chiyo and the market goods. I’m gonna see what’s going on, then we can figure out what to do.” “Gotcha,” Kaminari nodded. “Be quick though.” “I’ll try,” Midoriya said, then looked back to Eri with another kind, sweet smile. “C’mon, Eri...let’s go, okay?” He extended a hand...and to his surprised, Eri stepped back, letting out a tiny, timid whimper, as if she expected to be hit. Midoriya looked at his palm, then up at the little girl. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Just...take my hand, and tell me where to go. Alright?” Eri blinked a few times, looking between Midoriya’s face and his hand...then, her own tiny, trembling fingers clasped about his. Midoriya smiled and stood up, holding firmly but carefully onto the young lady as she led him off the path into the forest. Kaminari, for his part, watched them go. Once they were out of sight, he reached into the cart and picked out a juicy yellow apple. No reason he couldn’t have a snack while he waited: there was plenty in the cart to sell at market, anyway. He checked the surrounding trees as he took a crunching bite from the fruit. He made sure to be alert; he didn’t want to make any mistakes. After all, if Aizawa was right, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let their guard down in the forest… While Kaminari dutifully and calmly guarded the wagon, Eri led Midoriya deeper and deeper into the untouched woods, away from the road. Midoriya looked back and frowned; the cart disappeared from sight behind him. “How far away is your father, Eri?” he asked. “And what happened to him?” Eri bit her lip, and paused, keeping her head down. As they stopped, Midoriya looked to her with concern. “Eri?” he checked, quietly. “Please answer me.” Eri let out a whimper...and, without warning, pulled her hand away from Midoriya’s, as if his touch burned her. He stepped back with some alarm as her tiny, frail shoulders began to shake. He could hear her starting to cry. “...You’re nice,” she said very, very softly. “No one...no one has been nice to me...in such a long time…” She gulped and looked up to the teen with misty eyes. “I’m so sorry.” No sooner had Eri uttered the words...then suddenly, someone leapt out from the bushes behind Midoriya and grabbed hold of him. Midoriya gasped and whirled to try and fight back...but another figure lunged from behind a tree and grabbed hold of his other arm. Izuku’s eyes widened: both of his attackers were strapping, masculine figures, dressed in long black robes, with plague doctor’s masks upon their faces. “Wh-What is this?!” he shouted, and struggled to break free. “Let...LET GO OF ME!” “Good work, Eri.” Midoriya froze as he heard the words...and his eyes widened as a third figure stepped out from behind another tree, moving over to Eri’s side. They placed a dark-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder; she whined like a kicked puppy and shuddered, clearly repulsed but unwilling to move away from the figure’s touch. This figure wore a long green coat, lined with unusual violet fur. He, too, wore a plague doctor’s mask...but this one was not the plain ivory visage the two strikers wore. His was decorated in red and gold, and covered only everything below his eyes. The golden eyes in question narrowed, a supercilious gleam in them. “Very good work, my daughter,” the voice behind the mask intoned. “Thank you for helping us, Izuku Midoriya. We have much to discuss.” The figure then pointed off in another direction, and uttered one command to the two cloaked men: “Take him!” “KAMINARI!” Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling harder as one of the two attackers pulled a short club out of their robes. “KAMINARI! KAMINAR-!” WHACK! The world became fuzzy and filled with plain. Midoriya’s voice slurred unhealthily. “...K-Kamin-ar-i…” WHACK! Izuku knew no more. However, his cries had not gone unheard. Kaminari jolted as he heard Midoriya call to him with what sounded like real panic, the apple dropping from his hands and rolling across the dirt. It stopped right in front of the gray mare, who, thinking it was a treat, nibbled it happily. It was a lucky thing the apple distracted the horse, because the moment Kaminari heard the calls stop just as suddenly as they had come, he was on the move. He bounced off the wagon and bounded into the woods, calling back as he ran in the direction he’d seen Eri taking Midoriya. “MIDORIYA! MIDORIYA, I’M COMING!” Naturally, he was too late. Kaminari skidded to a halt, his expression horror struck, as he saw a second wagon not so far ahead...but this was no produce cart drawn by a farmer’s horse. Instead, it was a prison wagon, a cage-cart drawn by two black horses. He saw the driver’s plague doctor mask glint in the sunlight, and heard them laugh jeeringly as they whipped the horses up...then, the wagon rolled out of sight. Just before it disappeared, he caught sight of Midoriya, slumped over in the prisoner’s cage...alongside Eri and another figure he couldn’t rightly make out. Once it was gone, Kaminari stood stock still for several seconds, processing with dread what he had just witnessed...then, cursing under his breath, he dashed back through the woods to his own cart. Chiyo had just finished her apple, and let out a startled sound as the blonde-haired, yellow-eyed youth leapt back into the driver’s seat, tugging and cracking the reins. “C’mon, old girl!” he shouted. “We have to get back to the farm! This is an emergency!” The horse neighed, and the cart was soon turned around. Then, with another crack and a click, Kaminari rode the rattling wagon back down the road towards Aizawa’s farm as fast as he could…

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“Kidnapped?!” “Yeah!” Kaminari confirmed, emphatically. “I saw it happen, Mr. Aizawa! They were riding off with him; I couldn’t hope to catch up in time!” Aizawa grinded his teeth; a look of intense worry burned in his eyes. “Which way were they going?” he demanded, standing up from his desk in the room Kaminari had found him in. “South? West?” “East,” Kaminari replied. “Due East, no doubt of it.” “And you said the driver of the cart wore a plague doctor’s mask?” “Yes, sir!” Aizawa sighed. “There’s no doubt of it then,” he murmured, in an ominous tone of mortal dread. “He’s being taken to Yakuza.” Kaminari gulped nervously. Everyone in the Kingdom of Ua knew about Yakuza: it was one of two neighboring kingdoms, which had been feuding with the land for years on end. It was ruled by the evil King Kai; its armies were ruthless, and its defenses plentiful. While outright war had not been done in many years, relations between the kingdoms were still intensely...well...tense, to say the least. No one in Ua ever went to Yakuza...and lived to tell about it. “Wh-why would they take Midoriya?” Kaminari almost whimpered. “I can make a few guesses,” growled Aizawa curtly, as he dressed himself in his best hat and coat and looked to Kaminari. “I’m going to to take the new stallion to the castle. I have friends among the King’s Knights, they might be able to help us.” “I’ll go with you!” “No,” ordered Aizawa. “You stay here. I already have one of you in danger. I’m not getting you into any more trouble, and I don’t want you causing it, either.” “But I want to help!” “I know,” sighed Aizawa. “But this is no time for rash action!” “This is the PERFECT time for rash action!” Kaminari almost screamed out. “They took Izuku, and who knows what they’re gonna-?!” He stopped short at a burning, searing glare from Aizawa. He ducked his head and looked away. “...I’m...I’m sorry…” “Stay. Here,” Aizawa commanded, then added more softly, “Please.” Kaminari said nothing, but remained where he was. Aizawa looked the blonde haired boy over a time or two...then sighed again and shook his head, before hustling out of the house. There wasn’t a moment to lose. For a time, Kaminari stayed perfectly still where he stood. He listened. He waited. And the instant he heard the sound of Aizawa whistling to his horse, and the sound of the horse hooves galloping off into the distance...his eyes lifted. He looked to the beanstalk outside...and then moved to Aizawa’s desk. He hastily pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a message onto it. You said to leave you a note next time, the message read. I’m sorry, Master. I have to help my friend. I have to make up for my mistakes. Signed, Kaminari. With this managed, Kaminari clambered out of the open window, and crept towards the mighty beanstalk. He glanced from side to side, to make sure no one was looking...then, without another thought, he latched onto its based, grabbed hold of its stems and leaves...and began, once more, the long climb up...Up...UP…

“I’ll save you, Midoriya,” he promised, as he soon climbed up past the roof of the house, and kept right on climbing. “I’ll save you...one way or another…”

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“UUUURRRRRRRROOOORRRRRPH...mph...weak…” Bakugou snorted as he lounged back on the couch in the den of his and Kirishima’s home. His stomach was ever so slightly distended; just enough to make the strong, deep crevices between his six-pack muscles a little less well-defined, a clear but very small curve of fullness along his middle. One of his hands was resting upon his gut, covering his deep, black navel. He didn’t rub his stomach, didn’t scratch it...simply let his hand rest there, the limb rising and falling as his gut moved with his breathing. The ogre’s other arm was slung behind his messy-haired head as he glared with his usual, grouchy scowl at the ceiling, red eyes smoldering as he seemed to look through the ceiling itself...thinking and thinking. The (relatively) light meal he’d enjoyed left a pleasant warmth in his belly...but was not truly full yet. It barely made the slightest dent in his gut, and he knew he could fit more. But nothing around the house seemed to his satisfaction...and he had a feeling he knew what he wanted. What was stopping him? He knew what his stomach desired. He’d never denied it before. So why was he purposefully avoiding it now? He couldn’t even blame his appetite: he clearly wanted it, so what was holding him back? He didn’t know. This was...annoying. “Pissing me off,” he all but hissed to himself, fingers curling over his bare belly and twitching slightly with his ever-present anger. “Damn that little snack-rat...how’d that little fucker get inside my head anyhow…” He growled and shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts and the ever-repeating words. But they wouldn’t go away. He covered his ears, snarling and pulling at his hair. “Die, you stupid thoughts!” he snapped, trying to think of a way to force them out of his mind. He couldn’t take this much more…! He froze in the middle of his thoughts. His eyes widened as his ears pricked up. The giant listened closely. He could have sworn...he’d heard the scampering of tiny feet. He sniffed the air...and growled again, almost like a wild bear. “Fee, Fi, Fo-Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit…” The giant swung himself out of his seat and onto the floor...but he didn’t stomp his way towards the source of the sound and scent. Instead, he cautiously began to prowl towards it, moving almost like a giant cat. He was fairly certain the little rat hadn’t realized he was around, and he wanted to keep it that way… The giant tip-toed out of the living room and towards the main hall. He peered around the corner, and his red eyes widened at what he saw. He looked both surprised and angry at the same time. Creeping across the floor was a familiar little fellow - no bigger than a mouse, compared to the man-eating man-mountain - with yellow hair and matching eyes. He nervously moved across the floor, peering from side to side and looking all around. “Kirishima?” he called out. “Hello? Is anybody home?” “Yeah. Someone’s home, little snack.” Kaminari jumped...then squealed with fright as he saw Bakugou step out from hiding. The giant’s teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, his fists clenched and visibly shaking. With a comical holler, Kaminari flailed and turned around, trying to make a mad dash back the way he had come… “COME BACK HERE, RAT!” Katsuki roared. “I’LL KILL YOU!” “That’s not a good incentive for me to come back!” Kaminari called back. Bakugou just let out a wordless shout of anger, and lumbered forward. In three long, strong strides, he moved in front of Kaminari. Kaminari skidded to a halt as the Giant glared and lifted one massive boot over him... “DIE, RUNT!” “YIPE!” Kaminari barely had time to scramble out of the way before the giant’s foot slammed into the floor. THOOM! Denki stumbled as the floor shook with the force of the stomp. He hit the floor was was briefly winded...and barely had time to lift a hand in a pleading gesture, a futile attempt to stop the inevitable, as Bakugou’s own giant fingers came swooping down towards him and snatched him. Kaminari cried out as he was hoisted into the air; vertigo hit him in an instant, and he felt woozy...but only for a second or two. He had much worse things to worry about as he was soon held up to the giant’s face. “What are you doin’ back here?” sneered Bakugou. “I...I was lookin’ for-GACK!” Kaminari choked and gasped as Bakuguou gave him a squeeze. His ribs felt nearly ready to cave in, and his spine creaked forebodingly. “I don’t give a damn,” Katsuki snorted, then smirked. “Guess it’s my luck you decided to try and rob us again. This time...you’re not goin’ home, runt.” Kaminari let out a terrified moan as Bakugou licked his lips. “I haven’t had a human to eat in months,” the ogre rumbled, his free hand rubbing his belly up and down. “Now, I’ll finally get a small taste again...thanks for comin’ to me, meat.” So saying, Bakugou closed his eyes and opened his jaws. Kaminari cried out as he was brought closer to the stinking hot maw of the man-eating monster, the tongue twitching as the teeth parted to reveal the slimy chasm of pink, soft flesh that would consume him. “W-Wait...WAIT, JUST A MINUTE! WAIT, PLEASE!” Kaminari yowled as the mouth loomed closer and closer, and he struggled in the giant’s grip. “I DIDN’T COME HERE TO STEAL, I PROMISE! PLEASE!” Bakugou stopped. His eyes opened...and he pulled Kaminari away from his jaws, closing them and glaring at the small morsel. “You’re...not here to steal?” he repeated, skeptically. Kaminari - relieved to be away from that mouth and the odor of digesting meat that came from it - sighed and nodded in confirmation. Bakugou glared darkly. “Why should I believe you?” “Um...b-because it’s true?” Kaminari eeped out. Bakugou’s glare did not soften. “Listen,” Kaminari said, and took a breath to steady himself before going on, still wiggling to try and find some semblance of comfort between the boa constrictors that were Bakugou’s mighty digits. “L-Listen, I...I’m sorry. For what I did last time. I know it was wrong, a-and I won’t do it again.” “Apology not accepted,” sneered Bakugou. “And if that’s all you’ve got, I’m eating you.” “It’s not, it’s not!” exclaimed Kaminari, desperately. “Please...wh-where’s Kirishima? I need his help!” “Stupid hair’s not here. He won’t be back till tomorrow,” shrugged Bakugou, carelessly. Kaminari looked mortified. “But...but...oh, no...now what do I do?” the human worried, speaking more to himself than the giant. “By tomorrow...b-by tomorrow, he could be dead…” Bakugou looked the tiny morsel up and down, and tilted his huge head curiously. “What do you need that extra’s help for, anyway?” he groused. “Midoriya. My friend. He’s been kidnapped.” Bakugou’s eyes widened anew. “Kidnapped?” he repeated, voice soft and somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, his expression dour. “He...he was tricked…a-and a bunch of creeps from a rival kingdom took him away. I...I was too late to stop them. I though...maybe Kirishima could...you know...help me rescue him. Being a giant and all. But...without his help…” “Without his help, you’ll be better off,” snorted Bakugou. “Where is this kingdom?” Kaminari looked up, seemingly stunned. “Wait...you mean...YOU’LL help me?” “Psh. Don’t think of it as me helping you. I’m just helping myself,” Bakugou snorted, and smirked cruelly as he jabbed his free thumb to his chest, head held high. “No one’s gonna kill that green-haired, worthless idiot except ME. Besides, I’ve been on a ‘diet’ recently, you might say…” He licked his teeth as his stomach let out an excited burbling noise. “...I think it’s time I broke it. So...where do I need to go to eat?” Kaminari gulped nervously. “Um...uh...y-you need to go due east, f-from our home. I...I can point the way if you...um...maybe...p-promise not to eat me?” Kaminari smiled hopefully. Bakugou glared. “I don’t make promises to snacks,” he growled...then paused before going on, slowly: “Still...it’ll be hard to find the place without a guide...I guess I can let you live a little longer.” Kaminari sighed with even greater relief. “Thanks,” he breathed...then squeaked like a rodent as the giant quickly tucked him into his vest pocket. “Stay right there, and if you do anything stupid, I’ll squash you flat,” Bakugou grunted. “Now come on, snack. You’ve got another annoying bug to save…” He grinned viciously as he began to march out of the house. “...And I’ve got dinner waiting for me now. Heh heh heh…” Kaminari shuddered as he heard the giant smack his chops hungrily, and looked out over the white and blue landscape of the Kingdom Above the Clouds as his “ride” stepped out into the daylight and went on his way. “I hope I don’t live to regret this,” Denki murmured to himself. “Hang on tight, Midoriya...I’m coming…” “Ahem!” “Uh...oh, uh...w-we’re coming.” “Hmph. Better. Don’t make me regret not eating you…” “I’ll try...h-heh…”

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

Izuku Midoriya groaned; a splitting headache greeted him as he opened his eyes. Breathing, itself, required great focus, which only made the throbbing, stinging pain in his cranium worse. Something prickled like nettles inside his nostrils - it smelled like ammonia - rousing him from the bleary, black haze he’d been in for some time. He could still feel the weight of the club against his skull, and hoped he didn’t have any lasting damage to worry about. Midoriya sneezed as the odor became stronger, and shook his head with a louder groan, trying to clear it and focus on the fuzzy, faded-out world around him. “That’s enough,” a voice grunted. “He’s coming to.” The scent went away, and that’s when Midoriya became aware of a few things. One, his hands and ankles were both bound with what felt like rough hemp cord. Two, a large wooden post or pole was against his back, his arms wrapped around it behind him. Three, as he shifted his bound feet he realized they brushed against splintery wood. Finally, vision and total awareness returned to him...and Midoriya felt a chill go up his spine. The location appeared to be a city square, a huge black castle not so far in the distance, and various buildings all around him. This, however, was no city square he’d encountered before...and the people around him were the most unsettling part of all. There were hundreds gathered all around him, and while many of them looked perfectly ordinary in dress and appearance...at least a third of them were wearing dark robes and bone-white plague doctor’s masks, thee black lenses blankly staring at Izuku upon the pyre he was stationed on. At the base of the pyre, Midoriya became aware of a flicker of flame. He looked down and gulped nervously: one of the Plague Doctors carried a torch. Beside him stood King Kai: his purple eyes peering over the crest of his ruby-and-gold mask, dressed still in his expensive-looking green and purple coat. Half-hidden behind the King was Eri, who was visibly shaking, eyes darting about to look anywhere except at Midoriya. Midoriya blinked at Eri...then looked up with a glare at King Kai. “Where am I?” he asked, bluntly. “Wh-What’s going on?” “Welcome to Shie, the capital city of Yakuza,” King Kai answered, and Midoriya could sense the smirk behind the mask. “I am-” “I know who you are,” Midoriya said, trying to sound as brave as he could, but unable to stop shaking. “What do you want with me?” Kai blinked slowly. “Why don’t you guess, filthy Uan?” he responded, his voice cold and cutting. Midoriya bit his lip. “In the past few months, the Beanstalk you grew has helped make your kingdom’s capital all the more prosperous,” Kai decided to explain, his voice business-like. “I would like to know how you were able to create such a thing, and where all the wealth came from.” “And why should I tell you that?” Kai narrowed his eyes, and with a slight motion of his head, the robed figure holding a torch stepped forward. Midoriya shuddered, but held up his head, straightening against the post as he glared defiantly. “Y-You can do what you want to me,” he said softly. “I’ll never tell you anything. If someone like you figured it out, who knows what you could do!” “I can already think of a few possibilities,” Kai said, coolly. “But I would recommend reconsidering. Burning to death is a TERRIBLE way to go. Trust me.” Midoriya’s defiant expression did not shift. “Please don’t hurt him…” Both Kai and Midoriya looked down at the furtive little voice that spoke. Kai’s eyes widened as he found Eri tugging on his pant leg. “Please...j-just let him go,” she pleaded. “H-He’s nice, he didn’t-AH!” Kai sneered as one of his minions struck the girl across the face, knocking her back. Kai checked his leg and sighed with relief when he saw nothing wrong. “Never touch me,” he said, in a soft, warning tone. “How often do I have to tell you, Eri? You. Do. Not. TOUCH ME.” Eri sniffled and whimpered, holding her cheek; a bright red mark was visible upon it. “Leave her alone!” snapped Midoriya. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” “She’s useful on occasion,” Kai answered, in the same icy tone as before. “But she’s very undisciplined. A father is supposed to discipline his child when they misbehave, yes?” Midoriya looked ill. He looked to Eri with sympathy. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. Eri blinked, clearly not sure how to respond to the question under the circumstances. “She is far from your concern,” Kai intruded. “I’ll ask again: will you tell us where you got those so-called Magic Beans that brought that stalk to fruition? This is your last chance.” Midoriya struggled against his bonds for a moment, but the knots were strong and taut. He heard several in the crowd snicker. Sighing in defeat, he glared at Kai, who stared up patiently. “Even if I knew where you could find them,” he said, firmly, “I would never tell you.” “Very well,” shrugged King Kai. “In that case, you are of no use to me.” He held out a hand, twitching his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The minion holding the torch handed it over. Kai then turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Yakuza!” he thundered. “The enemy agent has refused to tell us the secret of the Magic Beanstalk. Today, we burn him, and purge his sorry existence from our clean and well-ordered society. Tomorrow, we shall treat those who live on his farm the same way...and then cut down the mighty beanstalk itself!” The crowd cheered, lifting their fists and shouting jeers at Midoriya. Kai smiled darkly behind his mask, amethyst eyes glittering maliciously as he turned back to Izuku. “Any last words?” Kai hissed. Midoriya blinked once...and gave his reply quickly. PHUT! Kai stumbled back...and his expression became one of livid horror as he felt the slimy substance on his cheek...felt his face burning, felt the hives itch and puff up… He glared with psychotic, feral fury at Midoriya, who smirked back with undying defiance after spitting in the evil king’s face. Kai snarled, and without further hesitation, hurled the torch onto the pyre. The kindling at the base of the pyre began to crackle and burn in an instant. Midoriya’s smile faded, and he began to struggle again. The crowd cheered louder than before, laughing and mocking Midoriya’s struggles as he fought for dear life. Smoke was wisping up, and growing rapidly in density...the fire would be burning fiercely in a very short while. If smoke inhalation didn’t kill him, the flames themselves would. Either way, it would be a lingering, painful demise. “HELP! HELP ME!” he called out, struggling to loosen the knots. Kai glared with triumphant anger as his robed minions taunted Midoriya by mockingly screaming for help, and the crowd pointed and hollered. “NO! NO, LET HIM GO! STOP!” Eri cried out, as two of the masked men held her back. “Perhaps you’ll scream out the answer while you burn, you diseased piece of trash,” sneered Kai. “If not...at least tomorrow we’ll make sure your family suffers the same fate.” Midoriya struggled harder in response, which made Kai chuckle. He crossed his arms, the dark king patiently watching the fire rise and the smoke billow, quickly growing into thicker and thicker curls of vapor...it wouldn’t be long before Midoriya began coughing and wheezing. He was going to enjoy every last second of this he thought, shuddering with revulsion as he touched the stinging portion of his face the boy had spat on. “Bring me my balm,” he muttered, looking towards one of his minions. “I need to-” THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP… Kai froze...and the crowd soon went silent...as a huge, pounding sound echoed through the air. The ground began to tremble, and all across the city went very quiet, confused and frightened as the noise grew steadily louder, and the vibrations more intense… Midoriya blinked, and looked upwards, as did Eri and Kai and nearly everyone else gathered in the city square. Midoriya saw a huge, towering silhouette - at least as large as the castle itself - approaching the area… “Kirishima?” he whispered to himself hopefully, with an optimistic smile.

“A Giant!” exclaimed King Kai, and barked orders to some of his soldiers as he moved a few steps away from the pyre, the people of the city clutching each other, their chatter turning into frightened noises as the King shouted and cried out: “Get to the edges of the city! Fan out! Do everything in your power, but don’t let that...that THING pollute my capital!” The soldiers hurried to move, forgetting all about Midoriya, whose pyre still burned. Midoriya himself had almost forgotten, himself, given the circumstances.: the adventurous lad’s smile quickly faded into a look of confusion and fear as he realized the hair didn’t look like Kirishima’s...and as the giant moved closer and closer, and people in the city began to fretfully murmur, he soon saw the glare of two glowing red eyes. So like Kirishima’s, yet so unlike them. A flash of green and orange caught his eye...and that’s when Midoriya knew. “B-Bakugou?!”

To Be Continued...

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rocorambles · 3 years

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As promised, have some Alpha Bokuto x Omega Kuroo omegaverse headcannons since it’s all my brain can think of this week~ (In reality, this ended up just being a short fic that’s broken up in a headcannon format LOL)

Warnings: NSFW, Dub-Con

- It’s so obvious to everyone around him that Bokuto is an Alpha through and through, his charismatic and bright presence loudly making itself known no matter where he goes or who he’s with, his strength and domineering personality leaving everyone in awe and instinctively wanting to follow him to the ends of the earth.

- Everyone assumes Bokuto will end up with a cute and adorable omega. It just makes sense and it seems like it’s just a matter of time as omega after omega throws themselves at him. He dates some here and there and he can admit that their sweet scents and dainty builds incite some interest in the Alpha inside of him. But none of them fully capture his attention and he shrugs his shoulders after every breakup, focusing on the sport he loves most.

- His family ask if he gets lonely without a mate, but he’s always confused by the question. How could he be lonely when he has his MSBY teammates, Akaashi, all his old Fukurodani teammates, and most importantly, Kuroo? And he can’t help the radiant smile that spreads across his face at the thought of that hideous cackling laughter and messy bedhead.

- Bokuto’s never really thought too much about mates, bonds, or alphas, betas, and omegas, never bothered to classify the people around him unless they decide to reveal what they are to him of their own choice. And to this day, he doesn’t actually know exactly what Kuroo is. Alpha? Maybe Beta considering how he never seems to have a scent around him? But it doesn’t matter. Kuroo is Kuroo. Kuroo is smart, mischievous, caring, pretty...

- Pretty??? Bokuto freezes, wondering where that thought had come from and he tries to push it down in the back of his head, but when Kuroo comes over for their weekly movie night, it’s all he can think of. Golden eyes roam over the long and lean body purchased on the couch beside him, trailing over endless legs, scanning slender wrists that reach over for a handful of popcorn, lingering on a vulnerable arched neck and Adam’s apple that swallows.

- It’s hot. Why does it feel so hot in here? Why does something feel like it’s stirring and building uncomfortably inside of him? Bokuto doesn’t realize the overwhelming possessive and hungry scent he’s releasing as he gazes at the man beside him, but he’s wrenched back to reality by a high pitched whine that has every primal instinct honing instantly on the source. And suddenly the whole world comes to a halt as hazel and gold clash, as Bokuto finally comes to a stunning realization as he truly sees and smells Kuroo for the very first time.

- Omega. Omega. Omega. The Alpha inside of him is roaring in a way he’s never felt it react before and he can feel every muscle inside of him tense, ready to pounce, can feel how his mouth salivates, fangs urging him to bite and mark. Kuroo’s an omega. His omega. His. His. His.

- And that’s when Kuroo makes a fatal mistake, fear and confusion hindering his common senses, omega instincts he’s tried so hard to ignore going haywire in the presence of such a prime Alpha going into rut. He runs, staggering and stumbling away, fighting the way everything inside of him is pleading and begging him to bare his neck, to let Bokuto claim him like he’s always secretly wanted. But this isn’t how he wants it. Not when both of them are both driven by animal-like instincts.

- The Alpha inside of Bokuto howls in excitement, practically salivating as he watches the gorgeous creature sloppily try to escape, leaving a trail of his intoxicating scent in his wake. And then the chase is on. Bokuto sighs in disappointment, wishing they were in a bigger space, wishing he didn’t have to end this so soon. But Kuroo is getting close to the exit and the professional athlete growls at the thought of anyone other than him getting a whiff of the Omega, easily lunging and catching the lankier man in his arms, throwing Kuroo over his shoulder like he’s a sack of potatoes and not a full-grown man.

- The Omega pounds his fists on the broad back he has access to, but he yelps when a hand comes up and roughly pinches his ass, automatically whimpering in submission when Bokuto growls at him to calm down and behave, his Alpha voice breaking through the naturally warm timber of his voice, adding an edge that orders for obedience and that has slick leaking down Kuroo’s thighs.

- It’s a tangle of limbs and torn clothes once the two make contact with the bed and Bokuto doesn’t think he can ever get enough of Kuroo’s desperate moans, the hazy lust-filled look in normally sharp eyes, the addicting entangled mix of their scents entwining together so perfectly. It’s like Kuroo’s body was made for his and a feral grin spreads across his face at how sensitive the other is, how easily he melts and succumbs to even Bokuto’s slightest touch.

- He takes his time exploring every inch of the writhing Omega, calloused fingertips roaming across toned muscles, teeth biting patterns into the blank canvas, lips greedily wrapping around perky buds. And he smiles as nails dig into his skin, back arching in a beautiful angle, a lewd wail escaping past kiss swollen lips as Kuroo’s hips frantically buck up and down, begging for more stimulation.

- Bokuto’s heart soars as he sees Kuroo in a state he’s never even dreamed of seeing before. His strong, naughty panther reduced to a needy kitten because of him, only for him. His lips come crashing down on a panting, drooling mouth and he swallows the moans as he coats his fingers in the pool of slick forming between Kuroo’s thighs, easily sliding and stretching the warm tight hole.

- He sees the flicker of hesitation and uncertainty hidden deep behind the throes of pleasure and he wills himself to slow down, to take his time, cooing gentle loving words of reassurance to the man beneath him, coaxing him to relax, to let his Alpha take care of him. And he smiles when the body underneath him fully relaxes, when Kuroo’s wiry arms wrap around his neck and timidly bring him down for a kiss, letting the feline-like man take the lead as he continues adding more fingers to the puckered hole, twisting and probing, groaning in satisfaction when Kuroo pulls away with a broken cry, eyes blown wide in arousal as he finds that spot inside of the Omega that has him begging for more.

- Neither of them remember many details after that as they succumb to their inner natures. All Bokuto can remember is the image he’s seared in his mind of how gorgeous Kuroo looked on all fours, presenting so beautifully and obediently for him, the feeling of bottoming inside of drenched tight walls, the broken cries as Kuroo screamed Alpha, Alpha, Alpha as Bokuto ruthlessly thrust in and out of him. All Kuroo can remember is the feeling of being almost impossibly stretched open and stuffed full of cock and cum, how right it felt to have Bokuto on top and inside of him, how perfect it felt to call him Alpha, to be called his Omega.

- And all both of them can think about as Bokuto gently cradles the exhausted raven-haired man, both their hands protectively cradling his cum-filled stomach, their lower halves still connected by the knot buried inside of the Omega, is how perfect it feels to be with the other.

Bonus Epilogue:

Bokuto smiles as Kuroo shyly hides the bottom half of his face underneath the rumpled bed sheets as the sunlight filters into the room, both of them completely back to their senses and exhausted after a week of non-stop action.

“You- you didn’t mark me.”

He hates how sad and insecure Kuroo’s scent is, how soft and shaky the words come out, how watery tears build up in tear ducts. But he doesn’t let Kuroo hide, doesn’t let him turn his back on him, doesn’t let him wriggle out of his grasp, only holding him tighter to him in response, releasing a calming, soothing scent that has him settling back besides him, peering up at him in confusion.

“Of course I didn’t mark you. I want that to be something we talk about, something that happens after I officially court you. And you looked so scared-”

“I wasn’t scared!”

And how can Bokuto not love the feisty kitten glaring indignantly at him, only to go stock still, an adorable rosy embarrassed flush gracing his cheeks as he stares wide eyed at Bokuto.

“C-court me??? You want to court me?! You want to be my mate?”

A warm excited scent floods the room and Bokuto deeply breathes it in, chuckling as long legs and arms are suddenly wrapping tightly around him, as messy black hair tickles his face when Kuroo tucks his head under his chin.

“You’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute!”

And both of them laugh as they grapple and wrestle each other on top of rumpled bed sheets.

#haikyuu smut #bokuto x kuroo #tw: dubcon

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nobeliumoxygenoxygenmisc · 4 years

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Halloween w/ the starters HCs

Kaeya, Amber, Lisa x reader halloween hcs focusing on haunted houses and halloween fairs!! idk if mondstadt has haunted houses or fairs or even halloween in general, but they do now! pls enjoy and happy halloween!!

Amber, Kaeya, Lisa, gender-neutral reader (pretty vague, so you can imagine if they’re the traveler or not!), ~1.6k words total

Amber

If you offer to go to the haunted house, Amber accepts--despite every braincell begging her not to. Unfortunately you only make it worse if you notice and reassure her that it’s fine, she doesn’t have to go if she’s scared

Amber: What, of course I’m not scared??? It’s all fake anyway, I know that. It looks like fun Y/N!!

You: You really don’t have to if you don’t want to--

Amber: I’m coming. See, I’m already in line Y/N, what are you standing around for??

But the way she’s sticking very close to you--closer than usual--with a stiff-straight body, wide eyes and clenched jaw and fists tells another story

Throughout the haunted house, Amber’s fighting every instinct and reflex to not whip out her bow and combust in a burst of pyro whenever there’s a jumpscare, but she can’t exactly stop the jumps and screams and the way she grabs onto your arms like a lifeline

Pretty soon she’s glued to you, your hand losing all blood circulation from her deathly tight grip and your shoulder beginning to ache from the way Amber shoves her face into it to avoid looking into zombie eyes or vampire fangs and hilichurls--hilichurls?

It’s a sad sad day for the actor dressed as a hilichurl, albeit a bloodied, armless-with-a-bone-sticking-out hilichurl; Amber goes no thoughts head empty only hilichurl and charges--the room’s too small to shoot and everything will catch on fire if she uses pyro but her hand-to-hand combat isn’t that bad she’ll knock it out real qui--only to be stopped by you (just making it in time)

The actor is very grateful and Amber is too ashamed to even be scared for the rest of the way--that’s one way of making it through a haunted house--but to top it all off, somehow Kaeya gets wind of what happened???

He gives a dramatic, purposefully pompous lecture on what is proper etiquette for haunted houses (mainly don’t go in if you’re flight or fight response is fight) and whilst Amber is mentally taking that on board, she does not like how it’s Kaeya telling her this (especially when he makes a playful jab at how Mondstadt’s best outrider is supposed to be protecting its citizens, not attacking them)

Please cheer her up by taking her around the rest of the Mondstadt Halloween Fair, mainly winning her (or trying to win her) a vampire rabbit plushie that she’s been eying and will forever cherish since it’s absolutely adorable and she cherishes anything from you!!!

And showing her to the stand selling glider-shaped treats because all the kids there immediately so starry eyed at Mondstadt’s Champion Glider herself--and for her part, Amber has a lot of pride in that title

(of course an apology kiss also works--if you want her to be as red as her Vision)

Kaeya and Lisa under the cut!

Kaeya

Wants to go through a haunted house because he is a little shit tells you he wants to see just how good they are in there, but of course Kaeya doesn’t tell you how he wants to be able to tease you when you end up clinging onto him because you’re so scared

So a) if you refuse, firm and owning your fears and let him go on ahead, Kaeya’s delight is thoroughly deflated and he’s really just speedwalking through the haunted house, fighting his instincts to freeze everything and seriously? Not another zombie--

Or b) contrary to what he’d assumed, you’re not scared going through the haunted house, and Kaeya’s smugness is thoroughly deflated (and he can’t see how he was so wrong but you do always end up surprising him, whether he likes it or not)

But if you are genuinely scared, Kaeya does not realise just how much your terrified form guilt-trips him (and that’s when you’re not even trying to guilt-trip him) so he skillfully improvises his plan to win you whatever candies and prizes you want from the fair games afterwards, all the while still cashing in on keeping you close--he may be guilty, but he’s not going to miss out on the opportunity regardless

Needless to say, Kaeya really is a little shit but the rest of the fair is relatively less conspiratorial--as much as it can be with him

He gets you whatever prize you want, easily figuring out if the game’s rigged from a few glances and instead discreetly threatening advising the stall owner to ‘not be so sneaky, it doesn’t reflect very well on your business’

But of course he ruins it in his own Kaeya way once you’re decked out with all the prizes in the world by offhandedly mentioning he’d like his ‘payment’ by next Sunday and casually walking ahead before realising you’d been left stunned and blinking on the spot

You: You’re not serious are you

Kaeya: why, I’m as serious as can be

You: and here I thought you were just being a nice boyfriend, for once

Kaeya: Oh that hurts me Y/N, but I suppose I can take payment in kisses instead. As a halloween treat~

You can indulge him and give him a kiss for every mora spent on those fair games, or you can start returning the prizes to the stalls (which makes Kaeya begin to desperately improvise his plan some more)

As for halloween sweets, Kaeya’s interested in trying some out but his real target are the drinks--the taverns have all been advertising halloween specials for the whole month and Kaeya’s body is ready to try them all; from the Vampyro’s Explosion to the Electro Frankenstein, he playfully critiques them and pretends to miss the way the bartender’s hold his every word as law but what he really won’t admit is that he’s doing it just to see you smile and stifle your laughter at how pompous he’s being

Halloween’s fun enough on its own--it’s perfect for pranks--but celebrating it with you takes it to whole new level - especially if you join in with the pranks

Lisa

Drops a casual line about how matching costumes would be adorable before the fair so if you take her up on that, she’ll put more effort than usual (which, really, isn’t that much but when it’s Lisa it’s a lot) in picking out the outfits… although she seems to care more about what you wear than her

Can’t help but smile and coo over how adorable you look, calling you cutie more than usual (‘Lisa do you even know my name at this point??’ ‘of course i do, cutie’ ‘...’) but internally she’s really, really gushing over the costumes; from the generic vampire, zombie, witches costumes to the more flirty cat and knight (you both know a few Knights who’d be outraged at the costume but Lisa can’t help but enjoy it) ones to the funnier less halloween-y costume ideas like a spear (?), Barbara (?? later on, you’ll see a few dedicated fans sporting the costume) and a hilichurl (??? a horrible representation of one too) that Lisa is not that fond of… but if you really, really want it she supposes she can’t help but agree

‘You’re very lucky you’re so cute’ ‘You love me Lisa’ She sighs, ‘That too’

Win anything for her at a fair game--from candy to those obnoxiously big plushies--and Lisa is absolutely flattered, teasingly calling you her personal ‘knight’ and promising to treasure it

A slight ways off from the general hubbub of the fair, next to the cathedral, a small fire is lit with a thin crowd of people surrounding it. You’re curious enough to check it out as you pass by and it turns out they’re all swapping ghost stories. Lisa is slightly interested so you stay a bit, but she can’t help the disappointed sigh when some of the stories end so terribly. So you tell her to tell one and though she’d really rather not (read: can’t be bothered to), Lisa has an unfortunate soft spot for her cutie after all

And you knew your girlfriend was terrifying before (you’d seen her with people who had books months overdue) but when she puts the effort in to actively be scary is a whole new level

The story itself is good enough to get people shifting in their seats, but with the way Lisa manipulates her movements to cast her face in shadows to go along with the words just adds that extra flavour--and in the climax of the story, you almost swear there’s a bit of electro magic going on in her eyes and the fire seems to crackle louder than usual

But your girlfriend doesn’t say anything when you ask her later on about using her vision powers for it, merely acting offended and giving you an exaggerated pout that you think her effects were fake

Try going through a haunted house with her and Lisa lives up to her reputation--calm, composed, and almost bored of the desperate actors trying to get at least one peep out of her. Once, though, she tenses and her hand goes to yours, her other going to her chest as she breathes out a small sigh of relief, laughing a little at how ‘that one caught me off guard’

It’s not until you’re both outside and walking down the fair that you realise you’re still holding hands, and when you look up at your girlfriend, all she does is give you a conspiratorial wink and a squeeze--there is no sign she’s going to let go anytime soon

#genshin impact #genshin impact amber #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact lisa #kaeya x reader #amber x reader #lisa x reader #genshin impact kaeya x reader #genshin impact amber x reader #genshin impact lisa x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #amber #kaeya #lisa #my writing #writing #my work

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yinyanchan · 3 years

Text

Housemates x Zoot Suit Riot Crossover: Lucky and Strike part 2

Last part of the crossover. I will be trying to do one from what happened to Blue and Orange on the otherside but please enjoy Lucky and Strikes shennanigans! Also there is a bit of a teaser for a couple of skeletons not yet introduced in Zoot Suit Riot. Merica and Spirit. Dusttale Mafia Sans and Papyrus. Cigarrette brand American Spirit.

Under the Cut!

This was going to be a lot harder than they thought.

One thing for sure as they look at eachother… Nook possibly knows the truth but is deciding to stay out of it. He’s a Papyrus after all… far more clever than they let on.

They go the direction Nook had pointed out earlier and sure enough Lucky opens a door that looks to be Oranges and Strike opens the door that screams Blue. Well at least they knew where “their” rooms were. Now came time to plan… but as it seems… Maybe these guys were pushovers in this timeline. Other than the horror brothers… Can they confess to outright murdering? And for fun at times?

This wasn’t the dog eat dog atmosphere they were used to… It seemed like they all got along under one roof here. Not to mention… there was another you.

One so willing to give physical affection that Lucky had been striving for since he had arrived in the other “Original” Sans world… only this one wasn’t ripe with gangsters and rife with Mafia undertones.

Strike was in his own little world as well. Apparently debating their options as well as he hummed. They could play along for a bit and see how it goes. So what if Red “knew” they could pass it off as a dare gone bad.

Both smirked at one another as they came to the same conclusion.

Great minds think alike.

They were going to test this world out and see how open this world’s Y/N would be to being with them. Not that they didn’t like the other you… they were pretty fond of you as well but there hasn’t been a chance to really get to know you and you had your guard up a lot.

This you was different. Far more open it seemed… It made them feel bad that in the times they had been with the other you… the other you had never smiled that big… as if something was constantly on your mind and it was a heavy burden.

The more they thought about the other you… they found they actually missed you.

“You think she misses us?” Lucky looks down and Strike is floored with his older brother's question.

“Dunno we were quite the handful.” Strike chuckles but even doubt was in his soul as well. Lucky had never questioned the consequences before. They always happened whether they were good or bad. They were an inevitable outcome.

Strike could only stare in awe as he sees his brother briefly look so vulnerable.

“What if… what if she does and we can’t get back?”

Both didn’t want to answer Lucky’s question… they already knew they’d be stuck… The machinery here was far more advanced than Strike had ever worked with… seeing as he had to use scrap from the dump to make his. Yet he recognizes how modern tech works… just not the inner workings just yet.

“Then I guess our soulmate here will do… yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence was awkward… even for them.

They both went to what was their rooms to search a few things and get situated. Probably wouldn’t take this world's Sans long after Red found him. Strike was hard up on information but Lucky at least found a journal that Blue kept that would provide a lot of useful tidbits. They then both reconvened into Blue’s room for a quick briefing as sure enough…

*knock knock*

“Hey, M’lord says dinner is ready. We’re just waitin’ on everyone ta get home.” Clueing in on the voice and the m’lord… That must be Russ.

“He also asks why ya didn’t come down ta help him but he then said ya were traumatized by Orange’s laundry.” They heard him snicker as the door pops open a little and there is a skeleton that looks like Mild. Yet wearing almost similar attire to the one they knew as Red. They watch as he stretches his lanky body with a yawn. Gold fang glittering in the light.

“Heh, one things fer sure Orange is at least ya don’t have ta put up wit wearin’ a security uniform… thems the pits.” Then his lazy gaze sharpens when he notices Lucky and Orange look at him in shocked almost fear… or anger… Russ wasn’t sure but it wasn’t something he was used to seeing from either skeleton unless it was something they thought was wrong.

“Ya two ok?” He asks and both skeletons seem to loosen themselves a bit and even though they had the laid back and cheerful disposition… they were still a bit tense.

“ARMED SECURITY?” Lucky asks with a grin.

“What the? No Blue. They don’t let me walk around the school campus wit a gun. I’m not a police officer.” Russ looks helpless as to why now Blue would even ask that.

“Yeah he’s not feelin’ all there after finding a sweet stash I had in my pockets that I… may have forgotten about… for longer than I care to mention.” Strike snickers and pats Lucky’s skull. It eases the more taller skeleton but the feeling that something was off was still there.

“Right… well I’m goin’ down ta get a good spot next to Darlin’.” With a wave he exits, shutting the door behind him.

Lucky instantly is growling.

“Damn rivals… no matter where we fucking go.” Lucky flings the journal back onto the desk and then back flops on the bed. Strike shakes his head.

“Guess we gotta go to dinner.” Strike heads his way to the door.

“Think it wise?” Lucky glares at him then wistfully gets up as his brother lifts a brow.

“I think it would be unwise not to.” Strike counters and they both put on their best game faces and make their way out.

As they turn to go down the other flight of stairs that was nearby… there was another skeleton they hadn’t seen… well in this world… before.

Kentucky as they knew him… his brother was Twist… well in this world this must be Axe. Nook's older brother.

He was just standing there leaning his back up against the hallway wall… his gaze not leaving them as they exited.

“HI AXE! HOW ARE YOU?” Luck does his bright and bubbly routine and Strike lazily waves with a grin.

Axe’s hollow smile dims slightly then stretches widely. His eye light narrowed in his skull. He chuckles and then kicks himself off the wall and ambles down the stairs. Once they were sure he was out of earshot.

“I don’t understand… I’ve read the journal and I’m definitely nailing the peppy persona… yet it’s like he knew instantly.” Lucky whispers over to Strike.

“Maybe Nook talked to him about us.” They both eyed each other then raised their guard before slapping on their persona attitudes.

As soon as they entered the kitchen…

“THERE YOU ARE! I HAD TO HELP IN THE KITCHEN BECAUSE YOU ARE TO BUSY SLACKING! JUST WHAT I WANTED TO DO AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK.” Was a tall and fearsome skeleton, yet definitely not their Swisher… this must be Edge. Swisher was tall, dark, and more importantly silent.

They looked at the table and everyone was there… including Red that was sitting by the one they took as the original Sans at the head of the table. His brother Papyrus was sitting on the other side reading a book.

“OH COME ON EDGE! IT WAS REVOLTING… I NEEDED SOME SPACE.” Lucky puts on his best puppy dog eyes and Edge scoffs.

“EXCUSES!!!” Edge fires back and brings a loaded serving dish to the table along with Berry.

“So… ya gonna do Red’s laundry I take it?” Strike smirks as Edge blanches and almost gags. It took everything for Lucky not to laugh, having been in said person's room, but instead give Strike a cross look. Strike pulls off a shrug as Lucky pretends to give that scolding gaze.

“FAIR ENOUGH.” Edge groans and motions for them to take a seat. You were already seated with Russ beside you and there was a vacant seat beside you. Lucky was eyeing it until Red growled and moved to sit next to you. Leaving everyone a little puzzled but Red was Red.

So Strike took the seat next Sans and Lucky took a seat next to Papyrus. Sans nods at Strike and Papyrus instantly latches onto Lucky’s attention. Showing off what was surely a courtship guide.

The meal was going great save for Red not really eating and his gaze constantly going back and forth between Lucky and Strike.

After dinner and dessert… which Lucky merrily ate seconds…

Sans clears his throat to gain everyone's attention.

“Now that everyone is settled and fed… elephant in the room… Who are you two and where’s Blue and Orange?” Sans scowls… Lucky and Strike freeze and just look at him in disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Lucky plays up his innocent act and anyone who didn’t know him personally could instantly be fooled with it.

“Yeah… not buying it.” Axe snickers.

“What were ya two fucks doin’ in my room?” Red growls.

“Language!” Berry fires at him but then… he turns to look at Lucky strangely as if waiting for Lucky to say something. When Lucky looked around they were all looking at him like he had grown two heads for being silent. Strike was trying to hide the fact he was starting to sweat… normally he’s good under pressure but usually because he’s got the upper hand… not so here.

Even you were looking at him oddly.

Sans set on a table a black with a little blue bowler hat on the table.

“MY BOWL…. I MEAN A BOWLER HAT!!! THATS NEAT.” Strike groans… Lucky loves that hat and has gone through death, gore, and destruction if it ever falls off. As everyone eyes him curiously.

“SERIOUSLY! I LIKE A TYPE OF HAT AND I'M A BAD GUY!? A SKELETON LIKE ME CAN ADMIRE THINGS… BESIDES I THINK IT SUITS ME.” He pouts.

“I’m gonna ask ya again. What tha fuck were ya doin’ in my room.” Red growls and glares at Berry as he looks to yell at him again for his language. Berry actually backs off with how serious Red is taking this.

“Blue said they had found one of your shirts in the dryer and he was returning it. Right Blue?” You ask even though you seemed very wary of this situation.

“Oh yeah? Where'd ya put it because I didn’t find shit.” He smacks his hands down on the table and raises himself to look at Lucky.

“LIKE I’D WANT TO ACTUALLY TOUCH ANYTHING IN YOUR ROOM. IT’S YOUR FAULT YOU CAN’T FIND IT.” Lucky glares back.

“SPEAKING OF COULDN’T FIND… YOU WEREN’T ABLE TO FIND YOUR OWN ROOMS AND THEN BLAMED IT ON A ROGUE SOCK.” Nook pipes up and Axe snickers.

“Also didn’t think ya guys liked my jokes.” Axe leers.

Lucky and Strike seem taken aback by how much these skeletons communicated.

“As fer not touching my stuff… Where is it?” Red scowls eyeing both Lucky and Strike. Strike seems to realize something very important, Lucky had pocketed something, he shoots his brother a ‘you didn’t!” look but Lucky was busy playing the part of the innocent.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.” Lucky looks absolutely puzzled… Strike could only wonder what it was… The only thing Lucky had picked up was the magazine but tossed it when he thought he was caught.

Then Red does something that shocks everyone.

He pulls out said magazine and slaps on the table in front of Lucky. The cover sporting a fully nude woman giving a come hither look. There were gasps all around the table and you were blushing like mad.

“JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!!!! THERE IS A LADY PRESENT YOU FUCKING DAFT CUNT!!!!” Lucky screams as he grabs the magazine and throws it away from your view. As he turns back everyone is slack jawed looking at him save for Red. Strike face palms as this world’s Sans turns to look at him.

“Give me back my centerfold ya damn creepy imposter!!! I know one of ya has it!” He turns his glare at Strike but he’s shaking his head.

“For fucks sake Lucky! You took the man's centerfold!?” Strike glares at his brother. Red puffs out his chest in pride knowing they had been caught.

“DAMMIT STRIKE!!! I TOLD YOU THAT I FELT JIPPED BECAUSE WE HAD NOTHING THAT SHOWED EVEN A SLIVER OF SKIN. THIS SHOWS EVERYTHING!!!!” Lucky reaches in the battle body and flips out the centerfold, that landed open for all to see. Lucky pauses and then turns to you sheepishly.

“I am so sorry… a lady like yourself shouldn’t have heard or seen any of that. My lady, I apologize.” Lucky is actually blushing and apologizing. That was a new one for Strike.

“MY WORD SANS… IT DOES SHOW EVERYTHING.” Papyrus blushes and Sans looks ballistic.

Berry is catatonic from the foul language as well as the lewd imagery. Russ seems bewildered at what to do. Looking around at his brother, the centerfold, then at you.

Edge is glaring at his proud brother.

“THIS IS WHY I TRY NOT TO GO IN YOUR ROOM. THIS IS NOTHING TO BE PROUD OF.” Edge growls at Red who then looks sheepish himself.

Nook and Axe are still eating their dessert merrily. Pretty much enjoying the show.

“Get. it. Off. the. Table. N o w.” Sans bellows his sockets become voids and Red grabs it and instantly stuffs it inside his jacket.

Once it is off the table Berry seems to reboot leaving Russ to sigh in relief.

“Strike and Lucky is it?” Sans growls.

They look over at him nervously.

“WHERE IS BLUE AND ORANGE?” Papyrus glares and they instantly freeze. Papyrus is the very serious boss attitude where they came from and he didn’t pull punches either.

“W-Well you see Papyrus all of a sudden we got thrown here in these clothes!” Strike immediately says, as Lucky glares.

“Stool pigeon.” Lucky gripes.

“Lucky!!! This is not the time! Look, we didn’t know what to think! We come from a very harsh environment alright? We are from the world of gangsters, hit men, Mafia. Hell our nicknames are after a cigarette brand called Lucky Strike. Same with all of you sitting here… save for the original Sans and Papyrus.” Strike holds his hand up. He knows when things get real and when to bow out. Lucky never knows when to quit.

“We just want to go back home but we didn’t want to say anything because we didn’t know who we were dealing with.” Strike sighs and then glares at Lucky who sighs as well.

“Your guys must’ve been pulled through to our side… SHIT… STRIKE IF THEY WERE PULLED TO THAT TIMELINE THEY’D BE EATEN ALIVE!!!” Lucky comes to the realization that leaving more kinder souls with the rough mafia types would be trouble.

Sans stands up.

“Let’s go.” Sans rallies the other skeletons and as you get up he halts you.

“Kiddo, that machine is dangerous. We know what it can do with skeletons. Just not humans.” He warns and you sigh, having to stay behind.

“It was nice to meet another you, honeybun.” Strike pats your head.

“Though it was a little too brief… we miss our Y/N.” Lucky says shyly and you hug both of them.

“I know Blue and Orange… and if you’re their counterparts… You can’t be all bad.” You say with a smile making them blush as you let them go.

The pull making them want to stay longer until Berry places the bowler hat on Lucky’s head.

“I WANT BLUE BACK. I MISS MY PARTNER IN KEEPING THINGS SANE AROUND HERE.” Berry huffs.

All the skeletons quickly made their way to the basement and to the machine. Sans goes over the records and quickly types in buttons as the other skeletons ask the pair questions.

Answering what they could about their homelife, the type of guns they prefered with their magic… The whirring of the machine caught everyone’s attention.

Bright light enveloped them and Blue and Orange came stumbling out in suits. As soon as they see everyone they run for hugs… even Orange.

“I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN!!!” Blue wails and Orange whispers thank yous.

Then they turned and looked at their doubles.

“YOU TWO ARE TROUBLE.” Blue glares.

“AND YOU TWO ARE TOO NICE.” Lucky glares back with a smirk.

“They knew instantly we were not you two and they almost tried to kill us when we asked honey questions.”

“Yeah… about that… she still doesn’t know about the machine… still thinks we’re cousins and all that bs.” Strike snickers.

“Yet it seems this Sans has told the truth which is commendable.” Lucky nods.

“ACTUALLY THAT WAS OUR BAD.” Nook pipes up.

“Yep.” Axe concurs.

“Right… seems to be Kentucky and Twist's goal as well, if they can get to her that is. Oh and they are mafia versions of you two.” Lucky points at Nook and Axe.

Then they look worried…

“Has there been an Merica or a Spirit here?” Strike asks nervously.

They all look at him questioningly.

“A FUCKED UP PSYCHO OF A SANS AND A GHOSTLY FLOATING PAPYRUS HEAD!?” Lucky informs.

They all looked puzzled but shook their heads no.

“Thank yer lucky stars. Keep the machine off.” Strike warns.

Soon they swap their attires with each other. Lucky revelling being back in his suit while Strike seems to miss what he was wearing.

The machine is ready as Sans motions them to get ready to head back.

Lucky then approaches Blue and places a hand on his shoulder. Leaning his skull in with a wry smile.

“Take good care of our soulmate here and we will take good care of ours back… home.” Lucky says with a shy smile still clasping Blue’s shoulder.

With a pat on Blue’s shoulder Lucky then walks to join his brother as the light of the machine begins to get brighter, about to send them both back where they belonged.

“Soulmate?” Blue questions making both Lucky and Strike falter.

As the whirring got louder Lucky let out a string of curses before.

“ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH YOUR SOULMATE THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME AND YOU NEVER KNEW!!!? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL…” His rant is cut off as the machine sucks them back to their world.

All the skeletons look at one another and begin blushing.

Except Axe.

He laughs and they all look at him.

“What? Explains a lot don’t it?” He smirks then leaves the others to ponder on it. Then blush even more as they had noticed that they did indeed seem to gravitate towards you.

#Zoot Suit Riot #Lucky #Strike #Housemates #Underswap Sans #Underswap Papyrus #Underswap Mafia Sans #Underswap Mafia Papyrus

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years

Text

Grave Danger

The prompt for the 26th was: Graveyard Shift.

This is set in what’s basically a reverse!AU. It is not suitable for work.

Barclay shouldn’t be out here.

Not in the “he’s going to get in trouble if he’s caught” way. In the “if the world was fair, he wouldn’t be doing a graveyard shift in a literal graveyard” way.

But the network demands more episodes of “Chasing Bigfoot” and unless he wants to be fired and broke, he must deliver them. It’s not that he completely hates his job; the money pays the rent, paid for top surgery, half-paid for phallo, and sometimes nets him fans who are actually interested in the science of investigating the unknown rather than night-vision camera footage of blurry objects. But much of the fanbase loves that second category.

That’s why he’s here in Kepler, WV, investigating a viral Bigfoot sighting (Barclay is 95% sure that the video is someone in a Chewbacca costume). That’s why he’s staying at the Amnesty Lodge, still slightly visible down the hill and through the trees.

The Lodge is actually the best part of this whole trip. The residents were wary of him at first, but they’ve been warming up to him.

And there’s one in particular that he’d love to warm up. Joseph Stern, blue eyed and dark haired, fastidious and charming. Barclay’s done his best to flirt with the other man, but so far has gotten only to the point of a casual friendship.

He sighs, adjusts the settings on his camera. It’s a tiny, handheld one, as the ratings suggest that audiences love grainy, shaky footage of him being out in the woods at night. Or a graveyard. Specifically, a graveyard where earlier in the day he’d spotted some footprints that were really, really weird. He loves cryptozoology, even if he knows much of it is faked, and he’d love to be the one to finally find proof of previously unknown species.

Bushes rustle further up the hill, and he hops the run-down stone wall at the edge of the cemetary to investigate. It’s probably just a deer, but it might make for some decent B-Roll.

He ducks under branches, looking through the viewfinder as he enters a small clearing.

A huge shape, covered in black fur, is surveying the ground. It raises its head up, then stands on its hind legs.

A werewolf. An honest to fucking god werewolf.

This is amazing. This is going to make his whole career. He can make millions, he can retire from this shitty show, can open his own restaurant, just as soon as he sells this footage of, of….

Of a werewolf looking directly at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight.

It growls and, without thinking, he runs. The creature howls once, then gives chase.

He doesn’t even make it ten yards. Strong claws connect with his back and knock him to the ground. Ripping fabric and short, aggravated growls fill the air as the monster paws at him, rolling him this way and that. He curls in on himself, protecting the camera and his vital organs.

“Where is it?” The wolf snarls in his ear.

“Wh-where is what?”

“The camera.”

“I, it’s.” Another growl, a clawed hand tightening on the back of his neck and he realizes that even if he hands the camera over, he’s a dead man if he doesn’t get away from this thing first.

“I don’t have a camera, so fuck off.” He kicks his foot back, catching the wolf in the ribs, and starts crawling away. It yelps, grabs his ankle and drags him back. He throws an elbow, gets his wrists pinned beneath one massive paw for his trouble.

“Give. Me. the. Camera.”

With mounting terror, he understands that a fight would be pointless.

“Inside pocket of my jacket. Please” the werewolf flips him over, rifles under his coat, “please, just take it and let me go. I, I really don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die as some z-list reality star, I haven’t even gotten to ask the cute guy at the lodge out yet.”

The werewolf, camera in hand, blinks at him, “cute guy?”

“Uh huh, uh, he’s, he’s sorta the manager of the place, he listens to me when I talk about foodie stuff and my dream restaurant, and he’s really funny and I, I really like him, and I wanna ask him out, which I can’t do if you eat me, and uh-”

“If you wanted to ask him, why haven’t you?” The werewolf crosses it’s arms, sitting back on its heels. The disapproving look on its face has him stammering to explain himself.

“Be-cause I, um, I’m not totally sure how he feels about me. Sometimes he’s really friendly and flirty, then he gets kinda stand-offish. I just don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around me. But if you don’t kill me, I swear I’ll ask him to dinner, first thing tomorrow.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The wolf leans closer, grinning.

“Fuck.” Barclay squeaks out, shutting his eyes because he really doesn’t want to see his organs leave his body.

The clawed hand cups his chin.

“Look at me, Barclay.” The command is quiet.

He does, peeking out from his lashes to see the wolf gazing at him with clever, blue eyes.

“Stern?”

The wolf nods, but doesn’t let go of his chin.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

Stern lets go and sighs, prolonged and put-upon, “No, I’m not. I just needed to get this” he holds up the camera, “and there’s really no way to chase someone in this form that doesn’t make them think I want to eat them. But I couldn’t risk you getting away and someone seeing that footage. I never wanted to hurt you, or even frighten you.”

“But aren’t werewolves supposed to be, like, mindless killers when they transform?”

That disapproving look is back, “In pop culture, yes. In reality, no. And we don’t need the moon to transform either. We just look like this.” He gazes at Barclay, fangs showing in a smile, “Now, do you have something you want to ask me?”

Barclays brain stalls out and Sterns shoulders fall, his ears flatten, and he stares at the forest floor.

“It’s alright if you’re not interested in me after learning what I am. I understand.” He says softly. Barclay recognizes the way his face struggles to stay neutral; he’s seen it happen a few times when the other man got bad news. It’s odd, seeing Sterns mannerisms mapped onto such an intimidating form.

Odd, but endearing.

Barclay reaches out, touches his fingers to Sterns left arm.

“Hey.”

Stern looks at him, ears perking up.

“You wanna grab dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes.” He takes Barclays hand in both of his, fur lush and radiating warmth, “I kept hoping you’d ask, even if I knew it was better that you didn’t get too close to me.”

“Because of the whole werewolf thing?”

“In a way. Me being like this is part of something...much bigger. And Mama and I, we have to be careful about what people find out about Kepler and the lodge. It’s our job to keep them safe. Having someone whose whole job is finding monsters learn the truth is an immense risk. So even though I was, er, am attracted to you, I knew it was best to steer clear. Unfortunately, my heart didn’t get the memo.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay draws his other hand down Sterns cheek.

“I do wish we’d been able to clear the air some other way.”

“You wish? I’m the one who thought I was gonna be torn apart.” Barclay teases.

“I’m sorry. If I had my enchantment on, I’d offer an apology kiss.” Then he grins, leans forward, and nuzzles the crook of Barclays neck. Barclay snickers, then full-on laughs when his tongue darts out.

“What’s so funny?” He does it again.

“It kinda tickles, and it, uh, it feels nice AHhey.” He laughs harder as Stern continues snuffling and licking at him, one arm looping around his waist.

“I do sincerely apologize for such poor customer service.”

“Gonna ah!, ha, leave you a bad yelp review.” He does his best to wrap his arms around Sterns shoulders.

“Oh no, the horror.” Stern deadpans, nuzzling his cheek. Barclay absentmindedly scratches the thick, dark fur on the back of his neck. Stern is sleeker than most depictions of werewolves he’s seen, and that combined with his coloration makes him striking to behold.

“You never had a bunch of people mad at you online have you-what’s that noise?”

“Ah, well, um.”

“Is your tail-?”

“Please don’t say wagging. It’s just a physical expression of the fact that I feel good.”

“That so?” Barclay scritches the same spot and the soft thumping increases, so he skates his nails over Sterns shoulders and down his chest. He presses them down firmer on the next pass.

Stern growls; a guttural, terrifying noise.

But in place of terror, something hot and dark Barclay’s his system and he freezes.

Stern pulls back, “I’m so sorry, that noise can be really unnerving, it’s mostly a reflex.”

“Unnerving. Right.”

Sterns eyes go wide, and his nose is once again against Barclays throat. He sniffs, hot breath raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Barclay, would you like to know something else about this form?” He murmurs.

“Sure.”

“My sense of smell is extremely good. And I can pick up on things like fear. And….” one claw trails gently on Barclays stomach, “arousal. I sense that second feeling coming off you. Am I picking up the right thing?”

“Uh huh. I gotta be honest babe, this is the horniest and the most confused I’ve been in awhile.”

“I’m a bit surprised myself.” He’s rubbing his hands along Barclays arms, comfortingly, “And if you’re not interested, or need more time to adjust, say the word and I’ll back off.”

“And if I want you to, uh, keep going?”

Another growl and he’s flat on his back, Stern looming over him, teeth bared. He tries to move, finds he can’t as strong, clawed fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Fucking-A, that’s hot.”

Sterns’ laugh is deeper than normal, but it’s still bright and happy when he stares adoringly down at Barclay.

“Do you like being my prey?”

“Now that I know you’re not actually gonna eat me? Yes.”

“Mmmmmm” Stern traces a clawtip along Barclays lips, then down his throat, which he bears as he arches his back, “Glad to hear it, even if it means I owe Duck ten dollars.”

“What? Ohfuck.” Stern drags his tongue along Barclays collarbone as he rather daintily undoes his shirt.

“We were all relaxing one night and there was some, um, speculation as to how various people we know are in bed. I maintained that you might like being the dominant one, since you’re so gentle normally and could enjoy the chance to cut loose. Duck insisted you “look like you wanted me to bend you over and make you cry.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Duck can be rather blue.” Stern zig-zags the very tip of a claw down his chest

“Is he, shit, also fucking psychic?”

“No, though he can see the future and, wait, oh, oh of course” he shakes his head, “he looked at the future to see what you’d be into.”

Barclay’s about to ask why Stern makes bets with someone who can see the future when Stern growls again, dropping down and rolling his hips against him. Paws his legs lovingly, licks and nips at his chest.

“That, oh fuck, that feels so good babe, just don’t go turning me into a werewolf.”

“That’s not how it actually works.” Stern huffs.

“Uh huh, sure. Maybe I’ll just-” He sinks his teeth into Sterns upper arm. There’s a snarl, and Barclay is flipped onto his stomach. He moans, tucking his knees underneath him.

“Look at you, putting your ass in the air for me like a good boy.”

“Joseph” He whispers.

“I’m right here, don’t worry. I’m going to make such good use of you, I’ll make you feel so good.” The barest hint of teeth brush his neck, Stern surrounding him on all sides, warm and heavy. He feels safer than he has in years.

“Undo your jeans.” He’s gripping Barclays hips.

Barclay obeys, and they’re quickly yanked down to his knees, taking his boxers with them.

“Now” something slick and solid teases at his ass, “in case it isn’t obvious, there is no way this is fitting without some serious preparation. So, you won’t be getting it that way tonight.”

Barclay whines. Claws clamp down on his neck, “That is not negotiable, no matter how badly we both want it. Spread your legs.”

Barclay does his best, is rewarded by Stern stroking his hair, growling softly, “good boy.”

A cock, thick and already sticky with pre-cum, slides between his thighs.

“Close them.”

He does, and this time a strong arm slips beneath him. When Sterns hand circles his cock, he whimpers, pushing back instinctively. Stern gives a sharp growl.

“That’s it. Oh lord it’s wonderful, having you underneath me like this. Maybe we should just stay like this. I could hold you this way all night.”

“Joseph, baby, please, I’ll do anything, just move.”

The grip on his cock tightens.

“You’re not the one giving the orders, Barclay. Remember that.” Stern nuzzles his ear, voice dripping with menace.

“S-sorry, fuckfuck” he pulls up fistfulls of dirt as Stern pounds against him, the movement of his thrusts forcing Barclay to fuck into his fist over and over again. He gasps when finds Sterns cock is long enough to brush his own as he fucks his thighs.

“See, I was right not to try to shove that into this” he paws Barclays ass.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Barclay chants in time with the movement of Sterns hips.

“Say it”

“You, you were right, you’re always right, I’ll listen to you for the rest of my life because of how right you are, shit, shit.”

“That’s right, you will. Because you like having someone who could tear you to shreds do this instead.”

The pressure on Barclays cock is the best kind of too-tight, Stern thumbing at the tip relentlessly. It’s efficient, calculated, so very Stern.

“Oh yeah, fuck that feels good, babe, gahfuck, where did you learn to give such an amazing handjo-ohhhhshit.” He thumps his fist on the ground as he comes, trying and failing to bury the whimper he makes as Stern refuses to stop fucking him.

The hand that moments ago was jacking him off settles by his head as Stern hunches further forward, chin resting on Barclays shoulder as the jerks his hips. The precision is waning, the thrusts between his thighs growing ragged and stuttery.

Stern pants in his ear, “You’re taking me so well, your thighs feel delicious, nnh, I cannot wait to fuck your ass, I cannot wait to make you scream.” His voice is stuck in a deep growl and he mouths at Barclays skin hungrily.

“Whatever you want, babe.” Barclay says dreamily, resting his hand atop Sterns own, leaves crunching as he does.

“That’s right, whatever I want, because you are mine, all mine, and I cannot believe it, ohlord, yesyes.” He thrusts as far as he can, the thick, flared base of his cock pushing through Barclays legs for the first time. Come spurts on Barclays belly, drips down his thighs, as Stern holds him close, growls giving way to higher, sweeter sounds.

They collapse onto their sides, still tangled together. Barclay manages to turn, bring them face to face. Stern is grinning at him, claws coming up to carefully brush his hair from his face, and there’s the tell-tale thwup-thwup of his tail on the ground.

“Well, that was a first.”

“Never fucked a human before?”

“No, not that part. You, ah, you called” his voice goes shy, “you called me babe. Not really a pet name I’d ever thought someone would use on me when I looked like this.”

“Does it bug you?”

“Not at all.” He brings Barclays right palm up to his face and nuzzles it, then catches sight of his appearance, “oh dear, we should get back to the lodge so you can clean up before that...hardens.”

They pick their way back through the trees, unseen, and slip through the back door. When they reach Sterns room, Barclay strips off his dirty clothes and Stern picks up a small necklace. As soon as he puts it on, it’s now a purely human face that smiles at the other man.

“I don’t usually forget it when I go out on a scouting mission. It just slipped my mind this time. Careless, really.”

“Dunno, think it worked out pretty well. Oh, here” Barclay takes the camera, pops out the chip and hands it to Stern, “that’s all the footage of you I got. Plus, like, some B-roll that I can retake tomorrow.”

Stern takes it, kisses his cheek, which turns into a tender, promising kiss on the lips. Reluctantly, Barclay breaks away to go shower. When he returns, Stern is in a set of matching, X-Files patterned pajamas, reading. He flips open the covers and Barclay crawls beneath them, the silk of the pajamas wonderfully cool against his bare skin as Stern nestles in his arms.

“I must say, it is nice to find someone who’s bigger than me in at least one form. It makes for excellent cuddling.”

“Glad to be of service.” Barclay rests his cheek on Sterns forehead, “you still wanna go out tomorrow night?”

“Of course. Though I request that any fucking take place in my nice comfy bed. I keep finding leaves stuck in odd places.”

“You got a deal.”

“And, if you like and Mama is comfortable with you learning more about the lodge, I think I may know where you could find work as chef. Since it’s apparent to anyone who talks to you for more than five minutes that’s your true calling.”

“That’d be amazing.”

A final, sweet kiss.

“Goodnight, Barclay.”

“Goodnight. Babe.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #promptober #werewolves #reverse!au #TAZ Amnesty #trans Barclay

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fandom-hell-ferrylass · 5 years

Text

Beware!

A/N: time to answer the question I asked last time in A Spoonful of Sugar. not much of a build-up but maybe it’ll be entertaining.

as always, still rusty and stretching my prose wings so the style is all over the place, especially cause I write in bursts which means some bits are more fluid and some are incredibly impacted by things I’ve read just before writing. it’s a rollercoaster that I’m enjoying :D

Alice’s heart thumped in time to the muted bassline thudding from the hidden front of the stage. The dancing lights were a myriad multi-glow washing faintly over Tarrant’s face, muddling the colours of their costumes weirdly even as the Hatter’s eyes glinted with barely-contained excitement. One of his gangly arms snuck around her waist and Alice found herself twirling around as the Hatter danced to the techno beats Nivens was dishing out.

“30 seconds, guys!”

Alice waved to the stagehand to let them know she heard them before pulling her attention back to her partner.

“Did you hear him, Tarrant?”

“What’s that, Alice-My-Dear?”

“We’re on in 30 seconds.”

“Wonderful! Next set, next set!”

The woman laughed as Tarrant spun on his heel, her safely secured in his arms.

“Last set, Hatter! Last set of the night!”

The man stopped spinning, Alice sliding out of his grip to stagger slightly as she regained her footing.

“Last set?” His voice was so sad, Alice couldn’t help but smile gently and cupped his cheek.

“Of the night, dear. Tomorrow we’ll have more T.”

His face lit up again. Tarrant sandwiched her hand in both of his and pulled her against him. Alice tipped her head nearly all the way back to gaze up at the face hovering over hers. The man’s grin just below the hat brim was nigh-on Cheshire.

“Do you promise, My Alice?”

She fought the urge to bite her bottom lip against a surge of attraction.

“Ah. Ahum?”

Both singer’s heads snapped around to stare at the crew member standing a few feet away. The man clutched a clipboard and was trying to not stare at the entwined pair.

Alice swallowed the squeak in her voice. “Yes? Did we miss the cue?”

The man shook his head. “Ah. No, no, just about to go. But I was told to let you know, they’re intro’ing something new tonight. So when everything stops, they want you to stop too. The band has been informed. You’re on!”

Before either could react, Nivens’s voice filtered through the speakers.

“Welcome back your Mad Hatter and the lovely Alice!”

With a shared look of confusion, Tarrant yelped and tore off for the stage at a run, Alice’s hand firmly in his grasp.

Alice’s laughter was pulled from her throat as Tarrant spun her across the stage, barely missing Mally as he chased after Thackery. The Hare eyed the Dormouse and bounded away with a grin. Even Abs and Chessur were grooving as much as their stations allowed. The Mad T Party Band was full swing in their element as the crowds faded into the blinding coloured haze. Alice felt Tarrant’s arm loop around her waist again, felt him guide her through the lyrics and the chords as her voice reached out to join his in a harmonic, mesmerizing dance.

The heady thumping of bass and drum pulsed in her breastbone, the sizzle of squealing guitar tingled the nerve endings in her fingers. Tarrant spun her out again and she pirouetted to find herself happily sandwiched between Mally and Thack as they joined the two singers. The four cavorted, twisting themselves as the people at their feet shrieked, reaching out for them. Together they laughed and bounced away from the grasping hordes, never missing a step, drinking in the madness as oxygen for starving lungs.

The crackle of dissipating energy shifted on the air as Mally drew a few last wailing notes from his guitar and the crowd erupted. The flounced edges of her bodice heaved as Alice gulped in a few draughts, the warm air making her head swim a bit with the glare of lights. She concentrated on smile and wave, dimly aware of Tarrant talking through his own need for breath.

The man swaggered across the stage, slinging an arm over Thackery’s shoulders as the Hare stood at the stage front with Mally, the pair interacting with the giddy audience. A wide smile turned her lips as she watched the trio before glancing at the two men behind her. They met her eyes with equally happy looks, but she noticed a glance between them. Something about the look ticked something in her head.

Wasn’t there something we were supposed to wait for—

The lights went out, the entire Rabbit Hole plunged into pure darkness.

Everything in her told her to cry out. Her limbs immediately cramped as Alice forcibly locked her body still and brought her jaw together so hard she felt her teeth ache. She remembered now. The crew member. He had told them to stay still while the stage went dark.

The sudden lack of vision had made the crowd exclaim in surprise, and as the seconds ticked on, a low murmur started to grow. Alice jerked her head up as a rustle of cloth came from somewhere ahead of her. Through the nighttime gloom, she blinked and squinted, willing her sight to adjust faster. Straining, the woman could just make out three figures in the dark, and three very distinctive shapes that told her Mally, Thack, and Tarrant had also not moved.

The joy that had been coursing through her veins seconds before bled from her, evaporating like something was leeching it from her. She panicked, reaching for the last bright spark as it flickered in her chest. A cloying, clinging fear reached up and snuffed it out in a blink.

She couldn’t help it, something in her mind, a shrill insistent voice was suddenly screaming at her to get to Tarrant get to the boys something’s wrong GET TO TARRANT! Her lips parted as she took a wobbling step forward. She tried to will back the breathy sob that dropped from her mouth as she felt something cold and whispy curl up her legs, licking at her fingertips. The tall hat outlined against some vague distant light tilted sharply. The chill kissed the skin of her cheek and Alice petrified, her eyes closing so tightly she didn’t see Tarrant’s head snap around, looking for her.

The Hatter knew the Dormouse and Hare had heard the sound behind them at the same time. A soft, unmistakable noise only one person on that stage could have made. All three men stiffened as Tarrant’s head tilted sharply, listening. A charge passed between them, a piece of their minds flaring to life as their muscles kicked into a mode they’d had little use for in this world.

Another soft gasp reached their ears and they moved in startling rhythm as Tarrant spun around, blazing gold eyes probing the blackness, Thackery and Mally pressing back to back behind him to make a triangular formation. To an untrained eye, it was no different from ways they had stood on the stage many times before - they knew better. A fighting stance is hard to forget when it’s as familiar as breathing.

Tarrant made to take a step when he felt the strange coolness lick across his left hand. He tipped his head down for a moment before swinging his arm in front of him. The chill parted and billowed, curling up around his shoulders and behind him. Mally growled under his breath at the stuff over the Hatter’s shoulder.

Again Tarrant made to move towards Alice.

A weird cackling laugh from the darkness made his blood freeze.

All six of them knew the exact instant something stepped foot on the stage. A wave of fog and cold roiled along the ground, nearly tangible. It swallowed them whole. Panic and hate clawed along their spines, drawing unbidden, shuddering breaths puffing in the air around their mouths. Thackery felt his ears twitch and tremble and squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself rooted. Mally’s hackles rose, twisting his face into a violent snarl hidden by the dark. Tarrant’s fingers spasmed, he had to strangle the urge to pull the false hat pins from his hat and wield them like daggers.

Hidden behind his drums, Chessur hunkered down and willed himself into nothingness. Even as his body faded from view, he fought the urge to slither down and find their Mad leader, to fall into his everlasting role of espionage and deceit as The Cat. He eyed the man behind the keyboard. Absolem was hunched over, gripping the edges of the instrument as he swept murderous eyes over every inch of their stage haven.

When the Caterpillar’s eyes stopped moving, Chessur’s eyes followed. Without a word, without a sign, one by one, all five Underlanders turned their eyes towards the human woman frozen in the center of the stage. An eerie purple glow faded up to reveal a figure standing before Alice, hood up, a glowing purple violin dangling from their left hand. A sudden wash of UV glow revealed the scale pattern on the figure’s costume, and Tarrant had never been so glad the audience couldn’t see Alice’s terrified face crumple with the memories of a battle she couldn’t help but remember.

When the figure spun around and a purple-red spotlight appeared, a delighted gasp flared from the people below. Tarrant glared beneath his hat. Those people, those fools had no idea exactly what was standing on that stage before them. He didn’t even need to see the small wings mockingly affixed to the figure’s tiny backpack - it only served to deepen his shadowy frown.

The hood rose with sinister precision and the figure lunged toward the stage front. A delightedly startled scream went up and a wide array of fanged teeth appeared in the blacklight, a grin of immense threat. The wicked grin bobbed as the head lolled around and suddenly they were on the move.

The sound of held breath was erased as the figure’s bow met their instrument’s strings. Shivers abounded as hauntingly dark, sneering notes echoed across the hushed spaces. They drew note after chord as they slithered across the stage and halted in front of the keyboardist. Absolem refused to move or adjust his gaze from the spot the figure had appeared. The hood bobbed a moment, nodding, and took three low sliding steps right. Chessur followed them with his saucer eyes, watched them square up with his drums. He watched the hood move jerkily for a moment and a smug grin began to tilt across his mouth. His little trick never failed to impress.

The grin vanished when the hood snapped directly towards him and the terrible teeth grinned wider. The Cat felt his hair stand up and a low rumble reverberated in his chest. The figure tossed their head and bounced away. They never stopped playing.

The scaly being stalked across the stage, swaying and undulating their steps snake-like as they made for the trio at the front. Mally’s instinct to pounce was thwarted as Thackery dug his fingers into the Dormouse’s shirt while Tarrant’s hand wrapped around his wrist. The three stared down into the hood, recoiling at the grinning maw. But Tarrant found his gaze locked with a pair of red eyes tilting to bore deeper into his. The surprise of it rattled him, and belatedly he realized the distance he was looking down at the figure - the same distance he looked down at Alice. He didn’t realize his hand was lifting towards the hood until the grinning teeth frowned and the hood jerked out of his reach. He remained still, one hand hovering still, the terribleness of the moment starting to be shoved aside to make way for other just-as-bizarre thoughts. Distractedly he watched the violinist make for their last target.

Alice imagined there were ice crystals forming in her veins. There had to be, it was the only reasonable explanation for the freezing cold sensation traveling up from her toes. Her skin prickled as her hair stood on end at the sight of the bared fangs grinning at her from the hood’s dark depths. She couldn’t have run even if she tried, her eyes the only thing moving as the figure circled her, a predator sizing up its prey.

When it vanished behind her, she wanted to cry. When a puff of warm breath sent shivers across her neck, she wanted to faint. She wasn’t expecting a mouth to appear next to her ear.

“Did you miss me, Champion?”

This time when the stage went dark, Alice didn’t try to keep herself on her feet. Her knees buckled and she sagged. Two pairs of hands gently wrapped around her arms and kept her from wobbling as a third pair of arms curled around her waist to keep her upright. Neither Tarrant, Mally, or Thackery cared when light from the giant screens behind them revealed their sudden, new positions.

Excited screams made them glance over their shoulders. On the screens behind them floated an image of their Mad T Party stage but with a figure silhouetted in the foreground. With their back turned, it was easy to see the pair of wings. They could see the scales, and the waves of braided hair cascading around the figure’s face. This did nothing to hide the menacingly glowing red eye smirking over one shoulder. At the bottom floated too-cheery red-purple-black letters spelling out three chilling words.

The backstage doors shook the walls as they slammed open. Absolem spared the briefest glance at the deep gouges in the plaster as he trailed behind the rest of the band. Nobody else cared. They hadn’t felt anything for the past 13 minutes.

The band had barely finished their set and managed to not bolt off-stage as the digital image leered down at them. Absolem and Chessur had abandoned their posts to huddle with the others and try to keep the rising terror contained. Tarrant hadn’t released their blond songstress for a second while he quickly thanked the crowd and handed the Rabbit Hole reigns over to the Twins. As the group stumbled clumsily down the stage stairs, Nivens was nervously waiting for them.

He sought out Tarrant’s dark golden gaze and they shared a long look of infinite conversation. Mally and Thack stood shoulder to shoulder behind them during the exchange, the Dormouse trying to calm the Hare and vise versa, the Hare trying to keep the Dormouse’s fury in check. Chessur stepping in helped - the Cat was no stranger to riding the waves of emotion and he could taste the prickling shroud that had descended upon their little corner of the world. The look he gave Absolem could have filled a tome.

Nobody knew this was coming.

For once the band did not tarry to greet loyal fans and share smiles and laughs and fuel the ever-burning T fires. Thack barely managed a faint wave and apologetic smile as the Underlanders bypassed the meet-and-greet area to stagger towards relative safety. As the sounds of the party faded behind them, their attentions shattered and zipped in all manner of direction. The most prominent thought amongst them, though they didn’t know it, was how could they have not known It was here?!

“Have you any remote inkling what exactly you’ve done??”

Alice took a hasty step forward but stopped herself. Tarrant’s eyes were flashing from acid green to molten gold so quickly it was making her eyes hurt. She shot a pleading look at Thackery. If they didn’t do something, the Mad Hatter was going to lay the entire Rabbit Hole to waste in his righteous fury.

Their stage manager didn’t seem to understand the immediate peril he was in. The man glanced up from a clipboard and gave the irate Hatter a self-pleased grin.

“Fantastic idea, don’t you think? Only a few months to set it all up, and just in time for the Halloween season! It’s gonna be a great parallel to Hallow T.”

The Underlanders paled. Alice facepalmed.

“A gimmick? It’s all a gimmick? Letting one of the most weird and dangerous creatures of all literature lose in the human world ... for a show?!?” Tarrant’s voice was getting rougher by octaves, words tingeing heavily with his native brogue.

“I know, right? The perfect kind of scary element for a Disney park! The kids are gonna lose their minds. Which reminds me, introductions are in order. ”

Six pairs of manic eyes snapped across the room as something moved over at the makeup stations. A disgustingly familiar hood sat in front of a mirror, facing forward as if observing itself. The figure’s hands lifted and the hood was pushed back to fall limply across thin shoulders. A dark mass of braids and hair ornaments were instantly recognized from the promo image on the stage screens.

“Guys, meet Eirian Fang.”

Glinting red eyes blinked at them as the girl turned around in her chair.

Alice’s chest squeezed and she wondered how little breathing she could manage in an hour’s time before passing out.

Mally’s head canted down, casting his steely eyes in even deeper shadow as his fingers curled into claws.

Chessur’s teeth slotted together in a silent snarl, and he was glad Dinah and Nivens were keeping the party going outside.

Absolem fought to keep his expression schooled and neutral, but he couldn’t help a narrowed glare.

Thackery felt something in a dark corner of his mind twitch, and the shock of That being called to attention kept him from reacting too violently. Instead, he stepped away from Mally and to Alice’s side, keeping one eye on her and the other carefully trained on Tarrant.

The Hatter’s eyes were so molten they were nearly black with only golden flashes to speak the truth of his current state. He slowly pivoted on a heel to face the creature head-on.

“The Mad T Party’s new Jabberwock.”

Black gold met crimson. The fangs beneath the red eyes smiled.

welp. there it is. wonder if anyone would have seen that coming? I didn’t build the mystery up much, though there will definitely be a lot more in the future. I enjoy this too much, and Eirian is already a very fun OC to play with.

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littlejedii · 7 years

Text

I’ll Be Fine By The Morning

did i procrastinate studying for 2 exams to write this shitty halloween story? yes! did i also not even get it done in time for halloween? also yes. title from permission slip by mainland. this is a bit rushed but happy halloweed!! story under the break! :)

Fall is usually bright, crisp days with a chilly wind that smells like decaying leaves and bonfires. Brilliant shades of red and gold and orange. The cool nights of wide open skies, the ones where you can just almost-not-quite see your breath on the wind.

But not in fucking Sellwood.

What a shitty place to be in the fall. The trees don’t change to any magnificent colors, but instead turn a muddy brown then drop their leaves unceremoniously into the wet, dirty streets. It rains almost constantly in the fall, not the light patter on your window which helps you sleep, but the thunderous, dark sky, drenching, gray, freezing downpour. The weather does a number on all the residents, of course, and the upcoming threat of hooligans making Halloween mischief really puts everyone in a shitty state.

People are so shitty, and the weather’s so shitty, and God why is everything just so shitty?

Probably because it’s around the holidays, probably because they’re always hyper-aware of what- but really who- is missing. Halloween might actually be the worst for Mitch. Freddie loved Halloween.

And then he died. Leaving Mitch in this podunk, bland, gray-ass town all alone.

What a shitty thing to do.

There aren’t enough houses to egg to forget that Freddie was a half-assed Jason Voorhees every single year. No amount of pumpkin smashing will make him forget that Freddie would sit on him and fart until Mitch handed over all his Kit-Kats. He can’t even begin to think about toilet-papering, because who else would have taught him the perfect toss? When Scratch had forced them all to watch Pet Sematary last year, Mitch spent the weeks after walking around the woods to find a haunted burial ground to shove his dead brother in just so he’d come back.

It’s been even harder lately with his Mom locked up, too. At least when he was a kid, she’d try and lighten the mood. She’d save and save for supplies to make him any costume he wanted, buy him any candy bar he desired in the biggest king-size bar she could find.

He always asked for Kit-Kats.

The fairly decent thing about Halloween is that now that they’re older everyone throws parties. Getting plastered by yourself to drown your pain is just pathetic, but getting plastered in someone’s basement where everybody is wearing plastic fangs is apparently just fine.

So this is where he finds himself. He barely knows the kid who’s house they’re trashing. Cory, from his Spanish class that one year the school tried to make him take a language, is just as shitty as everyone else in this town and throws a shitty party. But they stay anyway, downing lukewarm beers on his ratty couch as the basement fills with thrumming music and smoke. Mitch doesn’t wear a costume, obviously, because that’s fucking lame. His friends have taken to their usual masks, and everyone else is pretty decked out. The thumping of the bass vibrates in his chest, which hitches when he catches sight of a curly black head weaving through the crowd.

“Spots,” he yells over the music, springing up form the couch so quickly Javier startles. Jonas turns, blinking in surprise behind a sloppily-cut orange cloth mask. He pushes it up his forehead, causing his hair to stick out wildly in all directions, and Mitch could cry.

To his absolute fucking delight, Jonas grins wide as he makes his way over.

“Hey! I didn’t expect you to be here,” the smaller boy yells up over the music, “what’re you supposed to be?”

“I’m a werewolf,” he shouts back, and Jonas looks at him skeptically.

“You’re wearing exactly what you usually wear,” he gestures to Mitch’s torn t-shirt and jeans.

“Yeah well I guess it ain’t a full moon tonight then, huh?” His grin grows as Jonas tosses his head back in laughter, his shoulders shaking as a bit of beer spills from the can in his hand.

“That’s actually pretty clever,” he’s still giggling, but stops as he sees Mitch curiously eyeing the booze and quickly shakes his head. “I haven’t taken a sip. It’s yours.” He pushes the can against Mitch’s chest. It’s warm from Jonas’ fingers, and Mitch shrugs as he knocks a sip back.

“And what’re you, Joey? A frog?” Jonas frowns and looks down at his green t-shirt.

“No, I was supposed to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but Sid and I waited too long to make our costumes so it’s pretty bad. I don’t even have nunchucks.”

Mitch has no idea what those are or why this alien frog guy would have them, but Jonas’ nerd shit is so goddamn cute he can’t help but chuckle.

“Aren’t there s’posed to be like 6 of you? Which one’s your clone?”

“4,” Jonas corrects quickly. “And she wanted to be Casey Jones.” Behind Jonas’ shoulder, he sees Sid fumbling a hockey stick under arm, trying and failing to rip bong through the slats of a white mask as she laughs hysterically. He nods as if it means anything to him.

“You ain’t drinkin’ tonight Joey?” The lukewarm beer in his fist is halfway gone now. It’s certainly not his first of the night and he could use at least two more to start feeling a buzz.

“No... I mean, I’d rather smoke, but only if you wanted to,” his soft eyes are downcast, his voice coy under the pounding music. Mitch grins, because Jonas could ask to smoke his entire stash and he’d hand it over without question.

“Yeah. This place is fuckin’ lame anyway, let’s get outta here.” He wraps a wiry arm around Jonas’ shoulder and pulls him up the stairs, away from the smoky basement and sweaty bodies, out into the cool night air. They smoke a bowl as they wander back to the trailer park. Well, Mitch smokes a bowl while Jonas taps out after 2 hits, but they’re both pleasantly buzzed when they push into the trailer, Jonas’ side pressed into Mitch’s, freckled fingers wrapped around a thin wrist, big hands threading through tangled curls. Jonas is laughing, uneven and high, and only goes redder as he snorts. Mitch is teary-eyed too, his loud cackles pressed into Jonas’ temple as Jonas stumbles onto his knees over the carpet divide between the kitchen and living room.

Their laughter seems to echo through the trailer, amplified by the cold dark air in the empty room. The only sound which hums on when they finally break into soft, breathy giggles is the radiator, clicking rhythmically before shuddering on. Jonas rubs at his bare arms, shivering only slightly on the ground as Mitch fumbles with the dials on the ancient TV. Mitch eyes Jonas and goes off to his room, retrieving his filthy blanket and big plaid sweatshirt, throwing both around Jonas shoulders and guffawing at the muffled laughter.

Jonas clambers onto the couch and tosses the sweatshirt back, starting to untangle the blanket at pull his mask away from his forehead. He gives Mitch a look when the garment is thrown back into his lap.

“It’s for you,” Mitch chuckles in response, leaning back against the armrest and tossing his legs into Jonas’ lap. As the smaller boy worms his way into the sweatshirt, pink lights drifting over to the drafty window, Mitch sinks into the plush cushions, letting the sensation of the static hum drifting through his extremities warm him. Jonas unfurls the blanket over them, but pouts the moment Mitch tugs it up over his shoulders to his chin.

“No fair,” Jonas starts, “You look so cozy.” Mitch hisses out a laugh through his teeth, pulling the covers away and extending his arm with a teasing grin.

“C’mere then, don’t ya wanna be warmed up Spots?” he’s half-joking, fully assuming Jonas will shove him softly like always.

But he doesn’t. Holy shit, he most certainly doesn’t. The smaller boy lowers into his invitation, curling underneath his arm and pressing his face into Mitch’s ribcage with a long sigh. Mitch freezes, cold sober the immediate moment that Jonas nestles into his side. His arm stays up for a moment as he watches Jonas turn and rub at his red eyes as he squints to see what’s on the TV. Jonas’ ass is pressed right up against his side now, and his breathing has stopped.

How gone is Jonas right now, to want to do this? Yeah, Jonas is one cuddly motherfucker when he’s high, but it’s usually just those soft moments of him leaning into his shoulder. Is he taking advantage of the smaller boy, who now is examining a spot on his hand where two freckles touch? Is this too far? Will Jonas regret this when he’d sober? Shit, fuck, will he be angry when he’s sober? Oh god, will he be hurt? Or worse, embarrassed?

Fuck, he totally will, won’t he? Fuck, he totally will. Fuck. Fuck.

“Woah, no way, I am not watching this,” Jonas blurts out, wide-eyed staring at the television, pulling Mitch from an imminent self-destructive panic attack.

“What the fuck is it?” Mitch says, turning to press into Jonas and narrowing his eyes at the TV, trying to sound calm. “Oh, Joey c’mon, this ain’t even scar-”

It’s ‘Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives.’

Freddie’s favorite.

He bolts upright abruptly, jostling Jonas as he clambers off the couch towards the TV in two long strides. In his cloudy mind, he can’t think of anything more than to turn it off, slamming his finger into the button and watching the screen flash then go dark.

“...Mit-”

“Yeah, fuck that movie. We don’t have to watch it,” he says curtly, cringing at the way his voice wavers. When he turns back, he doesn’t want to look at Jonas. But he’s so small on the couch, looking soft and warm in Mitch’s sweatshirt, eyes half lidded and one eyebrow cocked, that Mitch can’t help but stare.

“I thought you loved scary movies.”

“That one sucks.”

“You only like the ones that suck,” Jonas snorts and breaks down into giggles as Mitch looks out the window into the moonlight, willing himself to laugh too. But he doesn’t, he can’t, and Jonas trails off. He says something, but Mitch is zoned out.

“What?” Mitch shakes his head, trying to clear the fuzziness.

“Why does that one suck? Does it scare you?” Mitch actually snorts harshly, and Jonas frowns. “Hey, you know I won’t judge, everything scares me. So if it scares you...”

“It doesn’t scare me,” Mitch says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. Jonas’ head lulls to the side, eyebrow still arched and questioning. “It... it makes me... it was Freddie’s- Freddie liked it. H-he loved it. He fucking loved Halloween,” he’s loud at first, brave, but by the end he’s mumbling just above a whisper and digging his nails into his skin.

“Oh... Mitch, I-” Jonas sounds so broken, so sad for him and he’s so not worth it.

“No, Joey, we’re not talkin’ about this, seriously. I can’t always bum you out like this when we’re high,” he laughs humorlessly, itching the back of his neck with discomfort as Jonas shifts upward. There’s a long, strained pause before Jonas pats the couch cushion.

“C’mere,” he says, and Mitch robotically does as he’s told. “What was his favorite candy?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Mitch spits, but Jonas just leans into his shoulder.

“I know his favorite movie, so why not?” More silence, filled by the sound of Mitch’s uneven breathing.

“Kit Kats.”

“Good choice,” Jonas hums into Mitch’s skin. They both turn toward the hallway as the sound of Buddy’s scratching drifts down from his room, but his eyes dart down to Jonas as he feels a hand wrap around his bicep.

“I bet he was Jason,” Jonas muses.

“...What?”

“Freddie. I bet he was Jason for Halloween, at least one year. Seems like something he’d do, at least from what you’ve told me.”

“Every year,” Mitch swallows thickly. Jonas laughs, genuine and real but soft. He lays his head into Mitch’s arm again with a sigh.

“I’m sorry this Halloween’s so lame, then,” he hums, sounding apologetic. Mitch pulls back, and Jonas jumps.

“Shit, what’re you talking about?” he blurts out. ‘This is exactly how I’d wanna spend it’ sits on his tongue, and out of his mouth comes, “I’m usually alone, so this is way better.”

Jonas raises his eyebrows, and Mitch coughs, “No, that’s not what I meant, I meant like actually this is what I’d wanna do, not just have you here ‘cus I didn’t wanna be alone, I didn’t mean it that-”

Jonas throws his head back again in laughter, curling his hands around his stomach and flinging himself back into the couch. It echoes against the cold walls of the trailer as tears start to form at the corner of his eyes. Mitch covers his red face, laying his head in his hands and mumbling for Jonas to stop and relax and seriously shut up before he’s laughing too, ugly and rough into his hands.

“W-well,” Jonas starts breathlessly, his chest still shaking with giggles before he clears his throat, “if it makes any difference, this is probably the best Halloween I’ve had, too.”

“We haven’t done shit, Spots,” Mitch runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head and looking down into Jonas hazel eyes which seem to glow in the darkness.

“Yeah, but I’m having fun... and you’re not alone,” he teases, before adding softly, “and I’m the one who gets to keep you company.”

Holy shit. How the hell did he get so lucky?

“What?”

Oh fuck, that actually just exited his mouth.

“I-” he starts, looking everywhere but Jonas’ eyes, “I- I- uh, I didn’t mean-”

“Oh... oh, no, it’s fine. We all say stuff we don’t mean. When we’re high. I guess,”

“Fuck, c’mon, you know I meant it.”

“You just said you didn’t, Mitch, it’s really fine.”

“I did,” he says firmly, leaning towards Jonas, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as he desperately tries to explain away his stupid mistake. “I do, I am lucky. To have you here. I am.”

There’s a silence after he makes the affirmation. Their thighs are touching and Mitch gulps as he realizes how close he’s leaned in, fingers curled around Jonas’ shoulder. He’s staring at Jonas, not into his eyes but at his nose, at the freckles there, and he can’t help his gaze from wandering down, further, to his lips. Subconsciously he runs his tongue over his own lip, lost in his high and the color of Jonas’ skin.

Jonas leans back, and Mitch stupidly leans with him until Jonas is pressed into the cushions, curls spread out like a halo around his head.

“You don’t mean that,” Jonas whispers, and Mitch can feel his warm breath.

“I do,” his voice comes out softer than he’d meant it as he feels Jonas’ hands on his chest, curling into the fabric of his t-shirt and not pushing away like he’d expected them to. He’s waiting for Jonas to shove him, curl away from him, anything, but he doesn’t. So Mitch lowers just slightly, coming down on his elbow and using his other arm to cage Jonas in and curl around his head.

“You d-don’t” Jonas whispers again, and Mitch lets himself fall further until their bodies are so close, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off Jonas, but not yet touching. After it feels like they’ve been leaning back for a century, Mitch’s nose meets Jonas’.

“C’mon Joey, you gotta know I do,” he mumbles. Their breath is fast, and he can feel the warmth of Jonas’ lower lip just almost against him. Their noses are pressed together, their foreheads touching, but neither of them move. Mitch wills his body to shift, to do it, God just fucking do it already, kiss him like he’s always wanted to, but he’s frozen.

“Will- will you still want th-this, like want me, when you’re not high?” Jonas squeaks softly, and Mitch crumbles.

“I- fuck, of course... always. You want this, though? Jonas, if you wake up tomorrow and you hate stupid ugly dumb Mitch Mueller for kissing you, I will hate myself so much more-”

He’s silenced as Jonas pulls them together, their lips colliding awkwardly as their teeth cut into their skin.

Jonas just kissed him. Jonas just kissed him. And he’s still doing it, holy shit. Jonas slides his trembling, inexperienced hands up from Mitch’s chest to his neck, into his hair, and Mitch shudders as the smaller boy whimpers only slightly. He wastes no time deepening the kiss, prodding Jonas with his tongue, tasting his teeth, gnawing on his lip, pulling back to breathe heavily for a moment before pulling him in even more tightly than before. In a moment when he pulls back, to peek his eyes open to just confirm that this is actually really happening, his chest twists at the way Jonas glows under the pink light illuminating the space around them.

Jonas opens his eyes too, face flushed and lips swollen and Mitch melts.

“So lucky.”

They kiss until their high wears off, until it feels so real and visceral that Mitch has to pull away and fall onto his side, gather Jonas into his chest and nuzzle into his hair.

“Why’d you stop?” Jonas whispers, tugging at the wet collar of his t-shirt, pulling it over the marks starting to bloom on his neck.

“I didn’t wanna take things too far,” he hums, kissing Jonas’ curls and trying to angle his hips away from Jonas’ side. His plan backfires, and he ends up pressing himself straight into Jonas’ plush hip, causing them both to jump. “I also gotta cool down a little,” he mumbles, looking away. Jonas giggles breathlessly.

“Yeah... me too... because I should be getting home soon,” he looks up but Mitch doesn’t look back, just lets his eyes slip shut and pretends to not feel his heart pull.

“Not yet, please” he whispers into the side of Jonas’ freckled face.

“I don’t want to, but it’s past 2 and I know Sid’s probably-”

“It’s past 2?” He interrupts, eyes widening. Jonas nods underneath him, inching his chin up for another kiss. Mitch feels like the king of the universe when he ducks down to press their lips together softly, almost getting lost in the feeling of Jonas surrounding him before he raises up.

“So I guess it’s not Halloween anymore....”

“Mm, I guess not,” Jonas murmurs against his chin, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“I haven’t liked Halloween since- for a while,” Mitch says, muffled by Jonas’ lips as he pulls face down again.

“You like Halloween again?”

“If I get to spend it like this, yeah.” Mitch wraps Jonas tighter, presses his face into the crook of his neck and inhales as he squeezes Jonas’ middle, savoring him.

“That could be arranged,” Jonas says softly before their kissing again, forgetting the talk of leaving or stopping or cooling down as they wrap up into each other again, and for the first time in a long time Mitch isn’t lonely. The room glows pink and the moon glows silver in the fall air, and it’s not shitty, it’s not empty, and nothing’s missing.

#long exposure #mitjo #halloweiners #mitch mueller #jonas wagner

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crowned-ladybug · 6 years

Text

Rainbow

Just putting it out there, this is dumb as heck. I literally just took six colours and something associated with each colour, wrote a drabble based on each and mashed all those together into one thing to pretend I can write. It’s not good.

Each story focuses on different characters/sets of characters/relationships. It’s a bit of fluff and a bit of exploring relationships, but it’s nothing deep. Romantic stuff is there, but it’s not super centered around it. The first story is by far the darkest one, and even that isn’t that dark at all.

Characters: oh fuck, so many. Dark, Anti, the Host, Google, Chase, Chase’s kids (Sammy and Grayson), Bing, Angus, Amy, Kathryn, Ethan, Pam, Marvin, Jackie

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none. Ships included are Danti, Bingaverage and Marvelsepticeye.

1. Red – Anger

"Would you just shut up?!" Dark snaps, his teeth growing into fangs for a single moment. His aura cracks around him, distorting his image and draining the colour from everything around him. White noise flares, following his voice. For a moment, Dark is an image of pure, unbridled and furious power, destructive and fearsome.

The other egos in the room freeze and stare at him in shock, wide-eyed. Some flee the room completely. They hadn't been doing anything special, certainly nothing with the intention of upsetting Dark. But Dark grew annoyed with their noise and his own inability to concentrate on the book in his hands, and instead of just getting up and leaving, he snapped.

But within the same moment, Dark's arm is grabbed in an iron grip, keeping him from moving forward. Anti places himself between Dark and the rest of the egos, reflexes keen as ever. He knows Dark better than anyone else in the room, and Dark knows him. If there's anyone who can placate him, it's Anti. And powerful as Dark may be, Anti doesn't fear him. Dark would never hurt him, and even if he did, Anti knows he isn't exactly weak either. Though he wouldn't fight back, he could take it.

But Dark doesn't attack him, just like Anti knew he wouldn't. His face softens ever so slightly when his eyes lock onto Anti's. His aura calms and settles around him again, and the white noise quiets until it's nothing but a few sharp pops telling of Dark's still restless power.

Dark closes his eyes and sighs. He's still wound up and stiff, but his anger calms as quick as it had come. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, only to Anti now.

Anti's hold on his arm loosens until he's just keeping his hand there to offer comfort, fingers slowly starting to move to rub soothing patterns against the fabric of Dark's jacket. "It's okay," Anti murmurs. He can hear the quiet hustle of the other egos behind himself and knows that more of them have probably left by now. "I know you're trying your best."

Without a word, Dark lowers his head. He feels bad for snapping like that, no matter Anti's attitude towards his actions. He's learning to deal with his anger and do better and not hurt anyone in the process, but he's not quite there yet. He hopes the other egos know he didn't mean to scare them, because he doesn't know how to say it.

With a small, gentle smile, Anti leans forward and presses his lips onto Dark's forehead until he can feel the skin smooth out again, Dark's frown slowly melting away. His hand slips from holding Dark's arm down to his hand and he gently tangles their fingers together. His smile grows when Dark sighs and straightens his back again.

2. Orange – Creativity

The Host's fingers glide gently over the keys of the Braille typewriter his friends had got for him as a gift, just in case he ever felt like writing again. He smiles wistfully. Maybe it's time he used something like this again.

"What do you think, Google?" he sighs. "Should the Host give his old profession another try?"

Google looks up from his work, his eyes dulling from a glowing, unnatural blue to a darker shade. He's working on the floating screen before him, lines of code slipping by so fast that only he can understand them. But now that he averts his eyes the screen freezes and a flashing cursor appears in the spot he'd last looked at.

He's sitting at the same table as the Host, the two of them keeping each other company silently. Well, really he's keeping the Host company, as Google doesn't technically crave human presence, but he doesn't mind much. He definitely finds the Host to be one of the less irritating egos.

"That's for you to decide," Google shrugs, turning back to his work.

The Host sighs, ignoring the coldness of the response. Google is a machine through and through after all, refusing any sort of unnecessary humanity, and the Host is used to that. Frankly, he just needs someone to listen to him, or at least let him talk to himself in peace.

"Sometimes the Host misses writing," he withdraws his hands from the typewriter and places them on the table. "He wants to write good, happy stories now. There aren't nearly enough of those," he's unaware that Google stops his work again and turns his full attention to him, eyes squinting with a hint of curiosity. "The Host wants to write his friends stories to make them happy."

"I'd say go for it then," Google shrugs again, and the Host stiffens a little as if he hadn’t been expecting Google to say anything at all. "While I don't really get creativity or sentimentalism or anything of the sort, I do think that you should give it a try if you think it would make you happy."

The Host smiles quietly. Those were some very, very un-Google-like things to say, and maybe that's exactly why they make him feel happy. "Thank you, my friend."

Google watches with the faintest smile on his lips as the Host straightens his back and sits up more, hands reaching for the typewriter again.

3. Yellow – Joy

"Gimme tha-...no, the other one!" Chase waves his hand towards Sammy, who's sitting with the box of chalks on her lap and sorting through them. He gets back to work as soon as he gets the blue he'd been asking for, and the box gets knocked over as Sammy stands and runs back to her own drawing on the pavement with a green in her hand.

Sammy is taking her task of decorating the hopscotch her and Bing (and previously Grayson, until he decided to move on to drawing flowers growing from the edge of the pavement instead) are working on very seriously. It's crooked and colourful and some of the numbers are upside down, so it’s exactly like any proper, well-done hopscotch should look like. Meanwhile Chase is aiding Grayson in drawing flowers and those typical kinds of birds that you can just tell were drawn by a parent not skilled in drawing on the pavement. Grayson appreciates the help anyway.

Sammy scrambles up, covered in colourful dust from the chalks from head to toe, and enthusiastically tests out what they have of the hopscotch so far. She jumps around with all the delightful energy of a six-year-old and reads the numbers out under her breath. Chase stops drawing and watches her hop by with a soft smile.

Suddenly Sammy comes to a halt and she drops her previously raised foot next to the other. "Pop?"

From the other end of the hopscotch, Bing looks up with the brightest smile imaginable. At some point Sammy had decided that Bing must be her dad too, and both her and Grayson had just started calling him "Pop" from then on. The first time they had declared Bing their dad, he cried. He also cried a lot more times after that. He's still over the moon every time.

"Yeah?"

Sammy stares thoughtfully at the tiles right at her feet. "I think we left out twelve."

Chase snorts, then tries to hide his laughter by holding his arm in front of his face. In response, Bing throws a uselessly small piece of chalk at him.

4. Green – Peace

"Y'know," Anti hums with a smile as he jumps from rock to rock. There's a path right next to him where Angus is walking, but Anti prefers the adventure of going slightly off it and jumping around, looking down at the creek they're following every other step. "I love nature, though I wouldn't really feel appropriate screaming about it, if you know what I mean?"

Angus laughs. He has a quiet, soft laugh even when he's really enjoying himself. "Oh, good times. Good memories."

Anti nods and keeps jumping along with a wide grin.

They stop in a spot where the creek takes a sharper turn and the rocks near the edge aren't everywhere. Angus crouches down next to the water and Anti makes himself comfortable on a bigger, stable rock. They splash their arms and face with the cool water, and Anti decides that if they're stopping for a break, he might as well eat one of his remaining granola bars.

"Thanks for bringing me out here," he smiles between two bites when Angus settles on the rock next to his. "I'm having a ton of fun."

"Glad you are, mate," Angus grins, throwing his head back lazily to stare up at the canopy above the two of them. He feels at home.

"We should do this again the next time you come visit," Anti says, eyes flickering to his friend before looking back to the creek. He doesn't usually have anyone to go hiking with, and he rarely has the heart to just go alone. Chase, Seán and Signe are usually too busy, Dark doesn't like hiking and Wilford is a safety hazard even in a padded room. But Angus, who is kind of like everyone's cousin, is exactly the nature-loving and knowledgable person to go hiking with. He doesn't visit often, but from now on Anti knows he will try to go hiking with him every time he does.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that," he watches as Anti's ears, for once not hidden by magic or a cap even though they're in the human world, perk up at that. "There's lotta cool places in the world to see, y'know."

Anti nods quietly, just watching the forest around them, the auburn leaves on the ground and the lively green undergrowth and countless saplings growing over them, the mossy rocks covering the slope slightly to the right and the spots of sunlight that dance on the water. It's a very nice, peaceful place.

"Where are we now, by the way?" he asks, looking at Angus fully. Angus had just dropped the two of them here without telling Anti where they were going or even just giving him coordinates. Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise, not like Anti has any idea on what the forests of different regions look like exactly anyway.

"Somewhere in the Northern part of the Carpathian Basin," Angus shrugs. "The forests are nice and peaceful here, perfect for a nice day out. No wildlife's gonna come attacking you here."

"Yeah, I was...hoping you wouldn't bring me somewhere we could die," Anti laughs, still quiet because the forest seems to have the same hushing effect on him that libraries do.

"You can die anywhere if you just try hard enough."

"Wow, thanks, Mr Ray of Sunshine," Anti mocks and gently shoves the other by the shoulder.

"You're welcome, mate," Angus shoots back right away. "Maybe next time though. No promises," he claps Anti on the shoulder, then hops off his rock and stands, shrugging a bit to adjust his backpack. He waves a hand signalling Anti to follow. "Come on, let's move."

5. Blue – Trust

"Are you certain that this is a good idea?" Dark asks, one eyebrow raised as he stares at the people gathered around him, almost as if silently asking if they'd all lost their minds.

"Is the big scary Darkiplier scared of ghosts?" Kathryn grins and Ethan has to cover his mouth with both hands to keep himself from laughing out loud.

Dark immediately turns to Kathryn. Were she just some random human person he would be angry, but these people (and maybe especially Kathryn) he considers a pleasant company, maybe even friends. And so he didn't rudely tell them to leave him be when they (read: Kathryn, Amy, Pam and Ethan) had come to him after nightfall and asked him if he wanted to go on some late night adventure with them. In a way he actually felt honoured that they had chosen him to be part of their delightful antics.

"I can guarantee you that whatever is out there, I'm scarier. But you humans are much more fragile and easily startled, I would worry for your safety."

"Well, that is very sweet of you mister big man," Pam responds quicker than Dark would have expected. "But we're not going to hunt serial killers or anything. We'll be fine. We're just going to the wine cellar!"

"Correction, Pam wants us to go to the wine cellar, because she thinks it's a good idea-" Amy adds, but she gets cut off by Ethan as he leans towards Pam with comically wide eyes.

"Which it clearly isn't!"

Pam laughs. "Ethan, it's just a wine-"

"It's spooky!"

Pam's comment of "fine, a spooky wine cellar" gets drowned out by Kathryn's and Amy's laughter. Dark watches them go back and forth quietly, just shy of smiling at them. He must admit, they are quite a delight to be around.

"Very well," he finally speaks up, and every head immediately turns to look at him. He feels a bit like he's dealing with children, but he's not sure whether it's because of their behaviour or because he's by far taller than any of them. "I will go to the wine cellar with you."

His words are greeted by cheering.

The wine cellar is pitch black and probably indeed very spooky, though Dark can't exactly tell. His aura ripples restlessly around him for a moment, but when it senses nothing threatening, it settles again. The thought crosses his mind that when Anti had told him to “be nice to everybody, and maybe a little sociable for once” maybe he didn't mean this. But he'll be damned if he's not actually kind of enjoying escorting some of his human friends to an apparently very scary wine cellar.

He stands in the middle of the room and watches the faint silhouettes of the rest of the group move about. He can't see jack shit, but it doesn't exactly bother him.

Pam makes her way down quickly and goes all the way to the bottles in the back, seemingly unfazed by the darkness. The others aren't so enthusiastic. Kathryn remains watching from the stairs, enjoying whatever is about to play out without subjecting herself to it, and Amy's occasional small squeals of fear are drowned out by Ethan's steady string of "nope nope nope" from behind his camera.

Amy creeps forward and walks right into Dark, jumping back.

"It's just me," Dark reassures her quietly.

"Oh Jesus," Amy sighs, but there's laughter in her voice. She reaches forward and grabs Dark's arm, and Dark lets her. "Okay, now it's a little less scary."

"If it makes any of you feel any better, there's nothing here aside from us," Dark says slowly, directing his words at the whole group. He watches as Ethan, reassured enough by his comment, shuffles his way down the final stairstep and into the room, only to swear loudly when Pam whispers his name creepily from the other end. Dark doesn't particularly find that fair, but he doesn't feel like interfering. He's having fun.

"You know what? Fuck this," Ethan declares, climbing back up the stairs. Pam quickly shuffles after him calling him a coward, and Dark can hear Kathryn's laugh come from all the way up the stairs. Amy squeezes his arm and whispers a "thanks" before running after them, telling them not to have any fun without her.

Dark remains standing there for a little longer, smiling softly when no one can see it anyway. These people are definitely growing on him.

6. Purple – Magic

Marvin and Jackie are sitting on the ground in their living room. It's a sweet, quiet evening. There's candles placed on a plate on the coffee table, each lit with a different colour of magical flame, and a safe distance from them there's a slowly growing menagerie of paper animals created by Marvin's skilled hand. He's folding them from copy paper just going by his memory, so some of them are a little lopsided and can't exactly stand on their own, but he's having fun with them. And Jackie has got his hands on one of Marvin's sketchbooks and is now doodling along the edges of a page – little hearts and flowers and butterflies, and tiny people running around and holding hands and dancing and being happy. He smiles as he draws one of the best, happiest ones a small cat mask.

There's a few wisps of light floating around the room above their heads, a small by-product of Marvin's magic and a much healthier way of letting go of his random bits of excess magic than letting it build up. They fly around the room lazy and harmless, and they look like fireflies right out of an animated movie. They sometimes like to settle on Jackie's hair for some reason, and Marvin always laughs fondly when he sees it happen.

For a moment Jackie stops his doodling and watches as Marvin hopelessly tries to make his newest creation (a puppy, Jackie guesses) remain standing on the table. Jackie reaches out and takes it instead after it falls over again, and places it on his knee before he goes back to doodling.

Marvin chuckles at him. "What are you-..."

"It's my friend now."

"Okay, wait," Marvin's smile widens as he takes the lopsided paper puppy back. "Close your eyes and give me your hand."

"No, what are you doing to my friend?" Jackie refuses, but Marvin just smiles at him fondly.

"Kincsem," he hums sweetly, and Jackie has no idea what the word means, but he does know that it's either a term of endearment, or Marvin calling him an idiot, or both. He sighs in defeat, closes his eyes and extends both his hands towards Marvin.

When he opens his eyes again, he's lost for words. Marvin has given him back the origami dog and now it's alive, limping around his hands and sniffing at the cuff of his shirt. Jackie looks up at Marvin with a wide grin and he sees Marvin already watching him, waiting for his reaction.

"It's weak magic, it'll wear off in a few minutes," Marvin warns, but Jackie doesn't care. He raises his hands so that the dog is eye level with him and stares at it with wonder.

"This is awesome," Jackie laughs, and his smile only widens when the paper dog takes interest in his glasses. "Hey there, pal."

Marvin just laughs fondly and watches Jackie for a little longer as the wisps floating around the room start settling in his hair again, and then he goes back to creating his little paper animals.

#fanfiction #writing #danti #bingaverage #marvelsepticeye #darkiplier #antisepticeye #the host #googleplier #bingiplier #chase brody #angus the survival hunter #planet peebles #verytiredkat #pamela horton #i'm not sure how to properly tag pam tbh #crankgameplays #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #if you listen closely you can hear dorothy ann crying that it's not purple it's violet #i'm very sorry for that #it's not supposed to be a Proper Perfect Rainbow it's just a bunch of colours i could actually find symbolism for #5 kinda strayed from the topic so idk how good that is?? but hey it's at least kinda about that i just didn't go enough into it #to properly justify it #calling it rainbow was much easier but i still lowkey wanted to make it like a line from the song true colours still #bc phil collins is phil collins #EDIT: I'M DYING ASDFHGFS GOOGLE TRANSLATES 'KINCSEM' AS 'HONEY' AND I MEAN USE-WISE IT'S KINDA CORRECT BUT ALSO THAT'S NOT WHAT IT MEANS

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alloverroliver-blog · 5 years

Text

Oliver X MC “The Curse of the Night”

Mature: Oliver Knight- Halloween Themed Prompt

30. “H-holy shit, why-why is there no reflection?” From this prompt list

This is an @ikemen-discord-writers fic!

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

Dressing up as a witch for the annual Halloween festival, was probably not the best thing for me to have picked. The Cradle was used to sorcery and magic stones being used on a regular basis, so a witch from my world didn’t really exist here.

I had to explain my costume to new people I met and ended up just being looked at funny each time. I wanted to avoid being awkward and began moving to the back of the room.

The sound of my heels began to ring out the farther away from the crowd I got. I adjusted my black and purple dress, keeping my low cut top from showing too much skin.

The orange hue of the setting sun spilled into the back windows of the ballroom, and I sat my empty party cup on the window sill, peering outside. The festival had been going on for several hours at this point and only recently moved the adults into the large room to make way for the dance floor.

“Nice hat.” a familiar voice broke my trance.

Twisting my body, I saw Oliver sipping red liquid out of a clear cup. With a bored look, he eyed the rest of my costume.

“Oh, thanks. I’m a witch.” I sighed, gearing up for yet another explanation.

“Obviously.” rolling his eyes, and took a step towards me.

His costume was a stark contrast to what he would normally wear. A black silk hat replaced his forest green one, and he wore a formal tux with a cape layered over top.

“It’s not obvious to anyone else, it seems.” a wry smile began to creep up on my face at the realization that Oliver was actually participating in something of his own will.

“Then why did you go ahead with the costume? Silly.” he scoffed, placing his cup on the sill next to mine.

“If I knew I would have to explain myself the whole evening, I wouldn’t have.” I shrugged, wishing I had the foresight.

Oliver stood next to me and leaned against the window frame. He was easy to tower over in my high pumps. He cut his eyes to me as I straighten my poster.

“You look so-”

“Don’t. Don’t say cute” he cut me off.

“So… cute” I whispered, trying to hide my growing smile.

His brows scrunched up as he turned towards me.

“You’re asking for it.” he spat, trying his best to keep his face as even as possible.

My smile only grew watching him try to hide his smirk.

“Are you supposed to be a vampire?” I asked, unsure if the mythical creature was known in this dimension.

“I am a vampire,” he confirmed, crossing his arms.

The inflection in his voice made me cock my head to the side, eyeing him quizzically.

“Like a real one?” I laughed, leaning back against the window sill.

The sun hung lower in the sky, spilling the last of its rays over the land. I relaxed against the solid frame, happy to be in familiar banter.

“Do you want proof?” he moved into my line of site and squinted his eyes at me.

Oliver was always teasing me, so I was used to him being adamant about things he couldn’t necessarily prove.

“I’m going to go with ‘yes’ .” I triumphantly smiled, knowing this was a scuffle I would win.

“As you wish.” He pulled out an object from his pocket. “Meet me at my house after the party.” he dropped a single key into my palm.

My stomach fluttered at the realization of what the key went to. Oliver turned on his heel, smiling devilishly and disappeared into the crowd.

Would this be considered another date? How many dates do you go on with someone before you can officially say you are ‘dating’ them?

I pondered over my thoughts, dropping the key into my handbag.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, peppering the sky with tiny starts. To my disappointment, I didn’t run into Oliver at the party again.

I left to his cottage late into the evening. The carriage dropped me off, and I made my way down the long walkway to his front door.

My heart skipped a beat as I rapped lightly on the solid wood. The light of the porch dimly lit the small entryway.

Moments passed in silence, and I idly wondered what he had planned for us tonight.

Pressing my lips together, I remembered the token he gave me earlier in the evening. Pulling the key out of my purse, my hand trembled slightly missing the keyhole initially.

The lock audibly slid open, then I twisted the knob and stepped past the threshold. His house was quiet, as I made my way through the living room. I removed my hat and purse, placing them both on the reading chair in the hall.

The dining room light was on, so I followed the path through the kitchen into the nook. The table was set with sweet treats and empty tea cups. I smiled down at the familiarity from one of our older dates.

Without warning, an arm wrapped around my waist, twisting me around 180 degrees. I squealed at the abruptness but was thwarted by a firm hand pressing down on my mouth. The icy palm encased my lips as my eyes drifted skyward meeting Oliver’s gaze.

“Oliver?” I pulled back and blinked in confusion at his unusual appearance.

His normal temporal change wasn’t what confused me. His light skin was now deadly pale, without a single blemish. The cheeks showed no signs of blush and his skin was cold to the touch.

“Yeah, It’s me.” He calmly stated, running the tip of his finger on the edge of my jaw.

His nail was jagged, as he gently scraped a line up to my ear. I looked twice at his eyes, that seemed to glow for a moment. Confusion flooded me as I grew more concerned about his abrupt change.

“I can hear your heart racing.” He smirked, revealing a sliver of an ivory tooth. His finger traced my bottom lip and swiped along my cheek.

“… but it’s not” I lied. There was no way he could hear my heart beating from where he stood. I willed my lungs to take in oxygen normally as his proximity stirred my infatuation.

The small pointed tooth piqued my curiosity. My hand lifted to his face, cupping his frigid cheek. I pulled down on his lip with my thumb, exposing two sets of petite fangs. Yanking my hand away, I took a step back.

His smile was dazzling, freezing me in place. My fight or flight response failed me, as I stood there like a deer in headlights unable to look away.

“This can’t be real.” I reasoned, mostly to myself.

He stepped towards me, leaning down to make eye contact. His eyes roamed over my face before he spoke.

“If you’re so adamant, I can prove these fangs aren’t for show.” He whispered, blowing cool air over my lips.

With haste, he leaned my head back with his hand, to exposing the column of my neck. My heart raced double time as his nose brushed the valley between my shoulder.

I swallowed thickly. His cool lips pressed against my heated skin, sending a shiver down my spine. This tongue traced the spot below my ear and I allowed a soft sigh to fall off my lips.

“Tell me when to stop.” He spoke clearly, moving his mouth into place.

I held onto his tailored jacket tight, anticipating the next moment. Oliver’s mouth opened wide and pressed his teeth into the thin skin over my pulse. I gasped, feeling my own heart rate beat into his mouth.

The particularly sharp teeth bore down hard causing me to hiss. However, numbness soon followed the ache as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. A dizzying heat began to flow through my body as he sucked at the delicate skin.

I could practically feel the mark began to appear, the red patch would be easy to see tomorrow. Oliver’s let up and used his tongue to soothe the angry skin. He placed a quick kiss on the hickey, then brought his gaze to mine.

“Wh-what was that.” a pang of embarrassment shot through me at my breathless words.

“A kiss.” he smiled, keeping a gentle gaze on me.

“Mmm, that was more of a bite,” I mumbled, bringing my hand up absently, feeling the stinging area. “Are you okay?” I continued, gesturing at all of him.

“I’m fine, I told you I’m a vampire now.” his gentle gaze dropped, replaced with a feigned annoyance.

He pulled me over to the side of the wall and stood me in front of the beautiful antique mirror. Over the spotty reflection, my eyes zoned indirectly to the fresh red mark Oliver left. Soon he was behind me, resting his forehead on my cheek.

The initial shock of the mark wore off, but another realization crept over me. I moved my hand and rested it on his face, however, the reflection lacked something alarmingly important.

“H-holy shit, why-why is there no reflection?” I croaked, swinging my head around to make sure he was still there.

“Do you believe me now? Goofy.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he moved his face back to look at his non-reflection.

“How… How did this happen!?” I yelled, louder than I intended.

“What does it matter? You still like me, right?”

“I do, I just don’t understand how this could be possible…” I managed to stumble out.

I twisted in his arms, ignoring the empty mirror, and faced him. Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Questions failed to fall off my lips, as I locked eyes with him.

“You didn’t answer me. Do you believe me now?” his words brought me back to reality.

“Yes, I mean, I would be an idiot not to after seeing that.” or not seeing that, I quickly added in my head.

“I’ll tell you my secret.” he looked amused and ruffled through his jacket pocket.

He kept his other arm around me, holding me close. Bringing his hand up slowly, he gave me a smug look.

A small glowing pebble sat the center of his palm. My eyes cut to him in annoyance.

“A magic crystal!?” I snagged the crystal out of his hand.

Oliver chuckled lightly.

“It’s only a spell. Lasting just for the night.” he flashed a bright smile.

“This has to be the farthest I’ve seen you go out of your way to tease me!”

Oliver.. this is your fault for having that costume card! XD

58 notes Oct 13th, 2018

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