#but also i really stretched the prompt definition on some of these xD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wolf-and-bard · 3 years

Note

I love your headcanon about Ciri joining in on Lambert’s pranks on Vesemir because she definitely does this. I mean, on the opposite side of the family, Cerys & Hjalmar have taught her that Grandpa Eist is a target for whatever mischief they have prepared to throw at him. So she just assumes that her Witcher Grand Dad will be a good sport about getting bombarded by pranks as well. Lambert sort of stretches the truth and confirms this for her XD Turns out Vesemir is not amused by the shenanigans

Fun, YES, agreed! Now I need to think about Ciri, Cerys and Hjalmar growing up together. 😌🤔 Sorry for going off on this one again, I just like to ramble, feel free to ignore❤️

-----------

She arrives at Kaer Morhen, perhaps a little intimidated, but also excited after Geralt has told her a lot about his family and she can't wait to meet Lambert because he sounds just like her chaos-cousins. Witty, arrogant, foul-mouthed and always some prank or other up his sleeve. Perhaps Geralt has also told her about some of the stunts Lambert used to pull and so Ciri can't wait to unleash her own arsenal on the oldest wolf.

On the first evening, she is quiet, eyeing the others. She finds Vesemir to be mostly welcoming, if a little wary. Eskel gives her timid smiles whenever their eyes catch and she has to admit that she is a little afraid of him. He grunts a lot, more so than Geralt, but when he speaks he has a quiet eloquence and an underlying strength that is intimidating. (Eskel for his part hasn't the first clue on how to treat her).

Geralt is Geralt, she's gotten used to him.

And Lambert well... he makes her feel right at home. He takes one long look at her, sniffs, then says "Don't expect me to bow, princess." as he shoves a bowl of soup at her. The way he says 'princess' makes it sound like an insult and Ciri silently snickers to herself every time he spews profanities that would fit right in with the Skellige side of her family. Lambert notices, she is sure he notices the way her eyes keep flitting between him and Vesemir. He doesn't say a thing, but once, Ciri thinks he winks at her. A silent promise.

After dinner, Lambert and Ciri are scrubbing dishes in the kitchen. She stands on a stool next to him, both elbow deep into the foamy water and gnaws on her lip.

"Out with it, sweetheart," Lambert says at one point and when she glances at him, his gaze is softly amused.

"I have a proposition to make," Ciri says, mustering up all her confidence. The same braveness in her that prompted her to trust Geralt instantly also makes her put her faith into Lambert right then and there.

"Is that so?" Lambert chuckles, dunking the cutlery into the mucky water. "And what is that?"

"You have pulled a lot of jokes on your father, right?"

"He's not-... ah, fuck. Let's say I have, what is it to you?" Lambert asks. Bull's eye. Ciri wouldn't have dared try anything, but Lambert's confession must mean Vesemir won't be too mad about it and Ciri really wants to test the waters. Oh what delight.

"Well, I'm sure your pranks were hilarious, but they're nothing compared to what I have in mind," Ciri says, watching the carefully contained spectacle of emotions on Lambert's face. Indignation being the primary one and she flashes her teeth at him. (Ciri doesn't know this, but Lambert is already neck-deep in love with her, he will be the best uncle). "So, I'm proposing a collateration."

"Collaboration."

"Yes, that. I share my wisdom and you your knowledge of Vesemir and this place. It'll be fun."

Lambert snorts, splashes some dishwater at her and Ciri squeals.

"Deal," he says. (Knowing full well that nothing will ever trump the time he invented the Kaer Morhen ghost. He'd made it seem like a classic haunting with carefully placed bombs and the help of a Kaedwenian seamstress that had taken a liking to him, so that Vesemir and other senior witchers spent weeks trying to lift the curse on the keep. When he hears Ciri's suggestion for a good prank he resolves to teach her all he knows.)

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

The next morning, the entire keep wakes to the loud and indignant shout of "LAMBERT, YOU ASSHOLE." Vesemir must have stepped into his mustard-filled boots, Ciri can barely contain her glee.

Over breakfast, Lambert insists that it was all Ciri's idea. The old witcher simply glares at Lambert and gives Ciri a kindly smile when she makes her best cub eyes at him.

"Don't worry, little one, Lambert has forgotten that he is not a child anymore."

"Maybe we should make him wear cloth diapers so he remembers," Ciri suggests and Lambert's enusing glare means certain death. She laughs and thinks this will be the most fun she had since that time she and Cerys put itching powder into Uncle Crach's wardrobe.

#ciri #lambert #ask #kaer morhen #geralt #eskel #vesemir #ramblings #witcher family #I've no excuses left these characters own me #witcher #tw3 #again this is more game-oriented than anything else #cerys #hjalmar

81 notes · View notes

bionerd2point0 · 2 years

Text

Fanfic Year In Review

Tagged by the ever-wonderful @glaciya! Thank you darling!!

How many works do you have on ao3?

43 - 14 this year!

What’s your total ao3 word count?

239,139 - 126,535 this year!

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh, 1 lol. Basically just Batfam (Batman - All Media Types) with a handful of sub fandoms within haha

Are there any new fandoms you want to write for?

I may or may not have 20k of a Shadow and Bone remake languishing in my WIP folder... Maybe.... We’ll have to see if it ever comes to light! XD

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Operation Tim

Operation Tia

Day By Day

Redfish

The Feeling of Safety

Which of your fics do you want more attention for?

None! I’m honestly constantly blown away by the attention I’ve already gotten!

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Always! Have yet to have any haters (I’m sure they’re coming, and I’ve already started drafting ways to leave a snarky reply before freezing the thread lol) but I really love chatting with people and appreciate them putting in the extra effort, even if it’s just a keyboard smash or a string of emojis!

What sorts of things do you normally write?

Angst, fluff, and lots and lots of AUs!! I look fondly at canon, pick up my favorite characters to hug close, and toss the rest out the window. It’s very freeing lol

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Mmm, probably Shadow of Death? I am particularly fond of happy endings, so this one is more of an open ending than anything else, but it definitely leaves people hanging a little ;)

What’s a fic that pushed you out of your comfort zone?

A Series of Moments was probably the closest I’ve ever come to truly writing dark fic, and it definitely made me stretch my muse, even knowing the happy ending had already been written. I think it turned out very well though!

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not... really? The only one I have posted on AO3 is my Batman/Big Hero 6 fusion that really only involved Baymax (Human Pinatas and Robot Doctors) but I have a fairly extensive DC/Star Wars crossover that I worked on quite a bit in my youth! Never finished it, and it’s horribly self-indulgent, but it was fun at the time and was technically my first fanfic!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Just this year, in fact. It was such a huge compliment to be asked!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! Secret Caverns: Raider of the Lost Ark was my very first dip in the pool of round robin-ing through Discord, and Inky made it so much fun! And the afore mentioned Shadow of Death was written with @luthienluinwe and had some truly fantastic imagery! Currently, I’m working on what has turned into a massive story with @workingchemistry and it’s been SO fun! It’s solidly over 100k now, but we probably need a beginning before we can start posting... And some editing. So. Much. Editing. 😂

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well, I’m definitely not ever finishing that DC/Star Wars AU lol, but I hold out hope that some of my others (JayTim Vikings, Serial Killer!Tim, etc) will eventually get finished. It’s mostly a matter of limited Time and Energy haha

What are you currently working on?

The Playmating AU with Chem, the last few chapters of How to Start Living, the sequel to Honest Men, Secret Project That I Shall Not Name, and Oy! What a Knight. I’ve also still got some prompts that I’m working on, but they’ve been chilling on the back burner until I can get some of my other projects wrapped up!

What are your writing strengths?

~Worldbuilding~ (to the surprise of no one lol)

What are your writing weaknesses?

Editing 100%, but I’ve been blessed with some amazing betas haha

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Most recent?

Young Justice (that crossover I mentioned) was my first, now it’s a general mishmash of Batfam shipping, but primarily JayTim and JayDick!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Lord, asking the hard questions, aren’t ya? Hmm.... It’s really got to be Honest Men. That fic (which is now actually a trilogy with three separate arcs, only the first of which is totally done) is one that I started before I posted anything else, and there’s so many layers to it that I’m really excited to see people’s reactions once things start to unravel. I even have a motif worked into it!

What fic are you most proud of?

All of them!

I’ll try not to double tag, but I apologize in advance cuz I know this has been going around! @workingchemistry (who already beat me to it lol), @elareine, @generatorcat , and anyone else who wants to join in the fun!!

#bio talks #lots of words #fanfic year in review

18 notes · View notes

randoimago · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I request a My Hero Academia fluffy oneshot with dialogue prompt: “You make my heart happy.” about Izuku Midoriya's shy female reader randomly peppering his face with kisses? The green cinnamon roll boy just deserves all the love, ya know? I live for flustered Izuku!! Please??

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Rating: Fluff

Warning: None

Words: 534

Support Me (if you want): https://ko-fi.com/randoimago

AN:

Is this the same person that requests for Ryuji? Just asking because you format every request the same so it feels like it xD But I'm good doing this request for you!! It is very cute!

----

You had been struggling with your history class lately and decided to ask Midoriya for help. He always seems to know the answers as well as constantly seems to be writing notes while muttering to himself. You thought it’d be perfect to ask this of him.

Now you sat in his dorm room as he was explaining to you some minor historical events that led up to something huge later on. You were taking notes as best as you could, but it was difficult at times since Midoriya would get excited and begin ranting and going off subject a bit. It was honestly really cute.

The two of you decided to take a break after a bit, which allowed you to stretch out your fingers a bit since they felt a bit cramped due to all the writing. It also allowed you to really take in Midoriya’s room as it seemed littered in All Might memorabilia, also really cute.

“Thank you for helping me, Midoriya...” You told him and he gave you a shy smile at that as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“History is a fun subject so I’m glad to help.” You smiled at the blush on his face as he looked away. He had mentioned before that he loves the subject because it does go into the first heroes and their discovery a bit. He also found it fascinating the laws and protocols that had to be put in place because of the newfound powers.

“What was your favorite event?” You asked him and he looked at you before seeming to think about it a bit. Then he just went into a tangent about All Might’s discovery and all the amazing things he did. It was very cute.

You don’t know when you stopped listening and ended up just staring at Midoriya instead. He was just so passionate and happy about this topic that it made him look so much cuter somehow.

“You make my heart happy.” Your eyes went wide as the words came out of your mouth, faster than you meant to. No, the fact that you said those words instead of just thought them was enough to make you get super flustered.

Midoriya had promptly froze as the words processed in his mind before his face went a brilliant red as he started stuttering and trying to formulate some kind of response, only for it to end halfway through or him starting a new sentence. before he finally just stopped and took a deep breath.

“You... you also make my heart happy...” He finally let out as he looked away, shyly. You felt your heart soar with the news as you sat closer to him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. He stiffened a bit at the contact before letting out a sigh and smiled as you gave him another kiss on the cheek.

The history lesson ended up with you holding his hands and peppering kisses on his face. He couldn’t contain the smile at all as he felt like he was on cloud nine while you peppered his face with small kisses.

You will definitely have to ask for history lessons more often.

#my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #flustered midoriya anon

41 notes · View notes

justsomefluff · 4 years

Note

OMG, I love all your works, it's so fluffy xD, can you do a ateez reaction where their SO walks down the aisle??

sorry I kept you waiting so long!!! thank you sm for being patient, I hope you like it!

Hongjoong:

While he’s waiting for you, he’s so nervous and wringing his hands and everything

Kinda sweaty but whatever he’ll blame the tux

When the doors open he isn’t even smiling bc he low-key feels nauseous

And it’s not that he isn’t excited

Its that he’s TOO excited

Like those dogs that pee whenever they’re happy

But anyway, I digress

He’s gulping after every member of the procession passes him

And when he finally sees you?

Straight up almost passes out

But now he’s smiling

Like HUGE

It’s almost creepy that his mouth can stretch that wide

His eyes might water a little bit, but he’s not gonna let any tears fall

And when you get to him he wants to hug you so bad but he knows that he should probably just…

Let the officiant do their thing so you can finally be married

Seonghwa:

Now, he will cry okay

Big, fat tears that obscure his vision

He’s so cute like he’ll even get hiccups

And he’ll rub his eyes to make sure he can see every bit of you

Wants to internalize this moment and just keep it forever

You have to grab his hands to stop him from rubbing his skin raw

And he’ll kinda smile sheepishly at you

You two literally don’t even notice that the ceremony has officially begun

Too lost in each other

The officiant will deadass have to tap you guys on the shoulder like “…hello?”

And all the witnesses will laugh good-naturedly at the two absolute love-struck idiots in front of them

You guys have the kind of ceremony that all the little kids in attendance will remember and want for themselves

And the way Seonghwa looks at you totally brings comments from your friends afterwards like

“If my fiance doesn’t look at me like that, we’re divorcing”

Overall the sweetest wedding you could’ve imagined

Yunho:

Tall boy that totally bangs his head on the gazebo lmao sorry

Happy puppy that bounces on his toes so much that he puts a crease in his perfect shoes

He will smile and wave to each of the couples that come before you in the bridal procession

Will even stoop to give the flower girl a kiss on the cheek which draws a chorus of drawn out “aws” from the audience

When you finally enter and step gingerly up the steps to the gazebo he’s almost clapping

He’s like “this. is. Art!!”

Staring at you with the biggest eyes

Whispers “hi” when you’re comfortably in front of him

When I say his eyes are sparkling? I’m being literal

His energy is so contagious

Stealing glances at your shared friends as if to ask if this was real

They giggle at him and wave their hands to redirect his attention to you

So adorable though and he will definitely ask you to pinch him at some point because he’s cheesy

Also rubs your hands gently as he’s holding them to reassure you throughout the entire ceremony (but also to calm himself down a little)

Yeosang:

So serious and stony faced at first

Like people are almost worried about him

But when those doors open, he’s grinning ear-to-ear

Doesn’t even see you yet, but the anticipation is killing him

He’s been waiting for this so long and it’s finally happening? He can hardly contain himself

He doesn’t even watch the entire procession because he’s too busy trying to weave his head around the other people to see if he can catch a glimpse of you

Has zero patience

You finally appear and that nearly takes him to his knees, I swear

He’s getting a lil wobbly

Highkey wants to run and meet you mid-aisle and just drag you the rest of the way

Wants the actual ceremony to be over with so you can be officially married

He’s been saying you're married this whole time but he wants it in writing

When you reach him, he takes your hands and you can tell he’s nervous because his hands are sweating

He recoils really quick to wipe his hands on the pants of his suit before grabbing you again

This prompts laughter from the entire audience

It amazed everyone that you two could still fluster each other, even on your wedding day

San:

TEARS

Ever since he woke up he’s been on and off crying

Happy tears, of course

He’s just so thrilled that it’s finally happening and he barely slept

Doesn’t even care about the ceremony anymore

Just wants to be married to you

Ready to live as a family and everything

Even if its just you two and Shiber for a while

When he first sees you, he chokes on his tears and starts coughing and he’s waving and making the “okay” symbol to the audience

You get to him and rub his arm to soothe him

Halfway through, its time for vows

Remember how I said he didn’t sleep?

He yawns right in the middle of his vows and you almost fall over you’re laughing so hard

Even the officiant, who has tried so hard to be serious up until this point, is trying to hold back a giggle or two

And San is totally worried that he’s made a mess of everything but when he sees your smile?

He knows that this wedding couldn’t have possibly gone any better

Mingi:

He’s gonna trip going up the stairs to meet the officiant

He’s so nervous about messing things up he almost seriously injures himself like fifty times getting ready

Like almost impales himself with the boutonniere, trips, almost slips in the shower, gets shampoo in his eyes, etc.

But everything is okay once he sees you

Couldn’t care less about anything else that had happened or gone wrong that day

Honestly wouldnt even care if the venue burned down, as long as he got to marry you

The boys are totally gonna tell you every detail and mishap from the morning later though

But for now? Peace

He’s smiling that crooked grin of his and his eyes are all twinkly with love

Gives you a big hug when you get close enough and holds you for a solid 20 seconds before the officiant is like “…can we get this going now?”

Awkwardly and reluctantly pulls away from you, kind of pouting but whatever lol

Just happy to be doing this with you and so excited for the future

Wooyoung:

Giggly and loud

Damn near screams when he first sees you

But it comes out as a quiet “oh wow”

Makes the officiant smile because they were the only one who could hear him say it

When you’re standing in front of him he’ll just kind of gasp

And then a single tear rolls down his cheek before he even knows he’s crying

When you wipe it away the witnesses are all cooing at you two

And he chuckles awkwardly and he’ll whisper that he’s not crying his eyes are just sweating

Whatever you say, kiddo

Once the ceremony starts, he never takes his eyes off of you

He doesn’t even know what the officiant looks like lmao

So laser focused on you and he just cant break away

You’re so hypnotizing

And he gets choked up reading his vows, but takes a few breaths and finishes with ease

And when the ceremony is finally over he’s practically racing you down the aisle, excited to get the party on with his new spouse

Jongho:

Strong boy not feeling so strong

He feels small while he’s alone and just waiting for you in front of all these people

The boys are whispering encouraging words next to him

But that doesn’t stop the violent shaking of his hands

When he sees you though? That’s when he stops shaking

He feels strong again

He draws all his strength from you, and that sounds cheesy until you remember you are literally the person he is dedicating his entire life to

Smiling that beautiful gummy smile of his

Holds your hands so gently throughout the entire ceremony and winks at you a couple times to make you blush

Basically, all his nerves dissipated when he saw you walking towards him

Mouths “I love you” to you a million times during the ceremony

When you ask him how many times he thinks he must have said it, he just tells you he lost track

“The officiant was boring me, I just wanted to be married to you. Finally!!”

Scoops you up at the end and carries you out that door

Maintains the strong image until you’re alone when he can bask in the softness of your long awaited marriage

#ateez #Ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez fanfic #fanfic #kpop #fluff #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #reactions #ateez scenarios #scenarios

181 notes · View notes

delta-roseblr · 3 years

Note

Lol, all the new info about the solangelo and delix kids made me want to have a fic just about them. So I was wondering if that would be possible? xD

Hello, Anon!

I know it has been forever since you sent this prompt, but it wasn't forgotten!

I hope this is worth the wait

_____________________________________________________

The Kids

· Because Solangelo and Delix both set down in California, Solangelo in New Rome and Delix stays in Northern California; they see each other a lot, as do their kids.

· The fact that Michael and Lee (Nico and Will's twins) and Mason (Felix and Dean's son) are a little more than a year apart just added to their drive to get together as a family. The kids could entertain each other, and they always got along well. The twins were challenging to entertain when they were little, so this is a big deal.

· Will and Dean always figured the three of them would always get along because, well, that was how they were, but Nico and Felix had their doubts. They figured that as the three got older and if (when) the twins started showing their demigod powers that they would drift.

· Nico and Felix turned out to be completely wrong, and the three just got closer as they got older.

· You would think, since Mason is the oldest of the three, he would take on the leadership role in the group, but that isn't how it works out. Mason is a pretty even-keeled kid. He definitely got Dean's tendency to want to put his head down and do his work. He can and does take the leadership role during team things like sports but not when the twins are involved.

· The twins are a damn handful from the moment they are born, and they never really change. Both of them are outgoing in their own ways. Lee is more competitive and will jump at the opportunity to take on a challenge, while Michael is more social- he can (and will) start a conversation with pretty much anyone he meets. The two are also a perfect storm of trouble because Michael will come up with an idea like they should buy fake ids and sneak into a club, and Lee will view it as a challenge, so he wants to do it, and they will absolutely find a way to talk Mason into joining them. Mason definitely tries his hardest to keep them out of trouble and manages to be at least somewhat successful sixty-five percent of the time.

· The twins love showing up at Mason's mortal school events, so even though they do not go there, most of Mason's classmates recognize them. They are also pretty much honorary members of Mason's lacrosse team. While Mason gives them shit for being menaces, he really likes when they show up, it definitely stops things from getting boring.

· Mason visits New Roman as well, even though not as much because going to New Roman can be a process as a mortal going to New Roman. Still, he has teamed up with the twins and a few of the other children of the seven around their age to case a little harmless trouble on the weekend.

· Btw, Dean has had several conversations with a teenage Mason about precisely what to do if he finds himself being hit on by a horny god (with very specific things to say to Apollo or Dionysus). Mason considers these the most embarrassing conversations he has ever had with his days. It's bad enough that his middle-aged dads still act like teenagers half the time and CAN'T keep their hands off each other. He doesn't want to hear about how Greek gods had tried to bone them back in the day. Grandpa Solace jumping in with "Just remember, Apollo isn't nearly as good in bed as he claims, and you can take my word for it" doesn't help with the awkwardness. He would rather have to go through the birds and bees talk a million times over.

· All three of these boys are NOT STRAIGHT. Michael is gay, while both Lee and Mason are bisexual. It's hard to say that Michael or Lee "came out" because it happened so organically. There was no sit everyone down and tell them moment. Instead, it was just "I LIKE like that boy" or "that boy is really cute" when they were like twelve. Mason takes FOREVER to admit this to himself and even longer to admit it to anyone else. Michael and Lee KNOW way before Mason admits to anything, and neither of them lets him hid from it. Lee tries the comforting approach hoping Mason will admit it while Michael goes more the exposure therapy route- he'll point out cute guys and ask what Mason thinks. He tricked Mason into going to a few gay events without Mason knowing until it was too late to back out.

· FYI, Mason comes out to Lee first, but only because they get into a fight because Lee is flirting with a boy; Mason secretly has a massive crush on (or at least he thinks it's a secret, but everyone can tell). Michael is solidly pissed about this for months, but that doesn't stop him from trying to play matchmaker.

Dribble:

The rain had stopped, and Mason supposed he should have been happy about that, but the lingering sense of tension and danger made it hard to appreciate. He, Michael, and Lee had already walked one block north of Gypsy Bar, and Mason was hoping as they put even more distance between themselves and the bar that sense of unease would dissipate at least a little.

They had been walking in silence for several minutes. That was a rare thing, and Mason hoped it meant that it was one of those rare occasions that his cousins were thinking about how horrible their idea had been, but Lee killed that hope the moment he opened his mouth.

"Well, we had to try," Lee declared.

Mason looked over and up because, of course, Lee was at least three inches taller than him. That would have been more annoying if Mason was at all insecure about his height, but at six foot he was comfortable. Also, he had a couple of inches on Michael, which helped.

Lee's hair looked practically white instead of its usual light blonde under the street lights' harsh glare, and his complexion seemed extra fair. Even his freckles were lost in the artificial light. Not surprisingly, there wasn't a single sign of worry on his face.

Maybe if Mason had Greek god powers, he would have been relaxed too, but he didn't. That call for adventure that Lee and Michael had just seemed like asking for trouble to Mason, the mere mortal. "Not with the worse fake IDs in history," Mason pointed out yet again.

"They were not that bad!" Michael was quick to defend.

This was not the first time Mason had heard that, and it didn't make it any less ridiculous. One of Michael and Lee's dads was literally a doctor that could heal people by touching them. There was no fucking excuse for their inability to see what was right in front of them. Why Michael had even bought the IDs, having seen them, Mason would never understand.

"They looked like they were hand-drawn by a preschool," Mason pointed out, "And the names were ridiculous."

"Pictures didn't look much like us," Lee agreed.

Michael let out a long, loud sigh, pushed a dark strand of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail and into his eye line, and tucked it behind his ear. While Lee looked like the stereotypical California surfer dude, Michael almost looked Mediterranean. He had light brown hair that he had grown out over the last year and now almost exclusively wore tied up, and he naturally had a more tan, almost olive complexion. Even with the differences, it was impossible not to recognize the two as twins immediately. They both had the same sharp facial features, lean and athletic builds, and light blue eyes.

Mason was the obvious odd man out in the group. His hair was somewhere between a light brown and a dark blonde, and his eyes were hazel rather than blue. His build was boxier, and he was definitely wider in the shoulders than his cousins, but that might have been because he had been playing lacrosse since he was eight. His facial features were also a little more square and angular. It might not have been a stretch to believe the three of them were related, but no one was going to mistake them for triplets.

"Okay, that is enough with the pouting," Michael declared with just a little bit of annoyance in his voice. Mason was a little surprised it had taken that long because usually, the more outrageous and destined to fail one of Michael's plans were, the more annoyed he got when it did, in fact, fail. "At least we got a fun story out of it," he stated.

Knowing Michael, he really did see that as a win which was crazy. Mason fucking loved his cousins. They were literally his best friends and really always had been, but sometimes they were crazy to be around. Mason put that on all the demigod stuff. After all, if you have literally trained to fight monsters since you were a little kid getting fake IDs and trying to sneak into a twenty-one and over club probably didn't sound all that crazy.

Mason wasn't exactly a fucking nun. Sneaking into a bar didn't sound completely crazy but trying to get into a bar known for checking IDs with comically bad fake IDs did.

"We are lucky they didn't call the police," Mason pointed out flatly. The bouncer had decided to take pity on them for some reason after giving them one hell of a fucking lecture, and Mason would forever be grateful. "Or worse, our parents," he added with a shutter.

"What are you worried about?" Lee asked with a laugh, "Uncle Dean and Uncle Felix would have been totally cool."

Mason gave Lee a serious look. "Nothing about my parents is cool," he stated firmly, "No matter how many people say otherwise."

"You really are a master of denial," Lee commented teasingly before patting his shoulder and adding, "It's kind of impressive."

The fact was Mason was well aware that his dads were pretty cool. If they had been called and told Mason had been caught with a fake ID trying to sneak into a bar, they probably wouldn't have even yelled at him. Neither of them were big yellers. Mason would have gotten one hell of a disapproving lecture which Mason was convinced was worse than yelling ever could be. He definitely would have lost a whole bunch of privileges for the foreseeable future.

Unfortunately, Mason had been hearing about how cool his dads were since he could remember. The fact that Felix getting early releases of video games all the time helped. Dean always bringing Mason and his friends for ice cream after practice when he was younger didn't hurt. As he got older, he just became the one with the cool parents in all his friend groups. It got old after a while, and that was before the term DILF started getting thrown around.

He would have been more annoyed if it was anyone besides Lee and Michael. They had it just as bad as he did, even if it was slightly different. Uncle Nico was practically a legion among Demigods for all the questing he did as a teenager, and even if he had just sat on his ass, he was still the son of Hades, which was a big thing. Uncle Will didn't have the history with all the questing, but he played an important role in some battle, which was enough to give him some fame. The twins had to deal with their fair share of people going full-on hero-worship over their dads, and then there was the fact that Uncle Nico had worked as a model for like five years.

Mason might not have been truly pissed off, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to flip Lee off for that comment. He did grin as he did it, at least so it was clear that it was all good.

They had walked about half a block as they had talked, and they made it about a block more in silence before Michael huffed. "So what are we going to do now?" he asked. Mason went to answer but barely got an opportunity to take a breath before Michael held up a finger to cut him off. "And the answer of going home is not allowed, so just don't even say it," he stated firmly.

Mason didn't get why going home, playing video games, ordering a pizza, and hanging out was such a bad idea. His dads were out on a date night, so they probably would have had the house to themselves, not that that mattered. According to Michael, that was just not an acceptable way for them to spend their evening, and in fairness, he had made that clear before then. That didn't mean that wasn't exactly what Mason had been prepared to suggest, but he wasn't really surprised that Michael warned him not to before he got a chance.

Mason stopped and looked around to get a feel for where they were. Since they were in West Berkeley, it was more his stomping ground rather than the twins. If it were New Rome, the twins would have a list of places they could go and things they could do, so he guessed it was on him to at least come up with one suggestion.

If he was honest, he only had a vague idea of where they were, and it wasn't a part of the city he visited often, so he didn't have the best idea of what was around. Ultimately, he went with the first thing that came to mind. "There is a really cool vintage bookstore like two blocks from here," he stated, pointing in the direction he thought it was.

It might have been the first thing he had thought of, but Mason didn't think it was a half-bad idea. He had been to the place a few times with Dean because Dean had a radar for little bookstores, and it didn't matter what they were doing or where they were supposed to be; he had to go in. It was such a well-known fact that Felix always looked up where bookstores were when they went on vacation so they could plan when they went. The little bookstore that Mason couldn't remember the name of had actually been pretty cool.

"You found an answer worse than go home," Michael commented flatly, "Why do you hurt me like this?"

Mason rolled his eyes because now Michael was just overdramatic. "They serve coffee and stuff," he informed.

"Coffee actually sounds pretty fucking good," Lee admitted, which was a good sign. Of the two, Michael always wanted to do something big and over-the-top. Lee could be like that sometimes, but he was more likely to see reason when Michael was just suggesting something crazy. Usually, if Mason could get Lee on his side, he had a chance. If Lee backed Michael's idea, then it was only a matter of time before Mason agreed to whatever insanity had been planned.

Michael stared between Mason and Lee with clear disapproval. "We can not go from trying to sneak into a 21 and over club to drinking coffee in a used bookstore," he stated with disgust before just shaking his head with disappointment, "Honestly, what is wrong with you two?"

"Okay," Lee declared, managing to sound just as unamused by Michael as Michael was with them. Lee was infinitely better at dealing with his brother when he was being dramatic than Mason was. "How about we go into that pizza place-" he pointed past Mason toward a small pizza place just across the street from where they were standing, "-and talk to the cute girls that are walking in."

"Well, that doesn't sound like fun for me!" Michael grumbled as he turned and assessed the option for a split second. "Oh, there is a couple of boys that could be cute! I don't hate that idea."

Mason gave in and turned to see what they were talking about and immediately wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "Oh my god, could you too stop staring," he hissed as he turned his back on the scene and hoped no one saw him.

They should have gone to New Rome.

Of course, both Michael and Lee were staring at him, and he knew they were going to ask. Neither of them was precisely known for letting things go either.

"What?" Mason shrugged, sounding more defensive than he meant to, "They are people from my school."

Michael and Lee exchanged a look that was never a good thing. It was one of those weird twin silent communication things they would do, and it usually meant they were about to tag team, Mason. It never worked out well.

"You know them?" Michael asked, although he managed to give the question far more weight than such a simple question should have had.

Lee was even less subtle as he stared at Mason with obvious suspicion, "How come we don't know them?"

Obviously, Michael and Lee didn't go to Mason's high school because they were in New Rome, but they hung around with Mason enough that they knew all of Mason's school friends and a fair number of his classmates. It wasn't necessarily weird that they didn't know someone that Mason knew from school, but it was a more rare occurrence. On this specific occasion, it actually made a lot of sense because they were people Mason only recently started getting to know.

"It looked like Theo and a few of the other kids from the theater club," Mason explained. Mason was not a theater kid. Even if he had wanted to be, he never would have had time with lacrosse and soccer. Since he was a junior and apparently would benefit from diversifying his afterschool activities (so saith his guidance counselor), he joined the AV club and somehow ended up helping with the school play, so he got to know some of the theater kids over the last few months. Not a big deal in the slightest. "And for the record, you two aren't entitled to know all my school friends," he pointed out just to prove a point.

Michael and Lee exchanged another look.

"Theo?" Lee questioned.

"Interesting," Michael commented.

Mason's heart jumped into his throat. Had he said that name? He hadn't meant to, but it must have just slipped out. He was absolutely fucked because the twins weren't going to let that go, and that was the last thing Mason needed. Theo was just a dude with great hair that made Mason feel weird sometimes, and he didn't want to talk about that.

Play it cool, Mason told himself through his internal panic. He shrugged, which felt like the most unnatural gesture ever. "He hangs out with a lot of the AV kids helping with the play," he explained. More accurately, he hung around many band kids helping with the play, and Mason had to adjust the audio equipment a fair amount. After talking a few times, Mason may have invited him to hang out with the AV kids, and the guy took him up on that. There was no fucking way he was telling Lee and Michael that story. "I've learned his name. It isn't a big deal," he stated. That at least was true, and no one would convince Mason otherwise.

Michael and Lee were silent for a long moment, just staring at him before Michael broke the silence. "You know what? Pizza sounds fantastic," He declared before turning on his heels and starting across the street. He was halfway across before he called over his shoulder, "And I love a good theater club. Always fun gays."

Lee patted Mason on the shoulder, which turned into him practically pushing Mason forward toward the pizza shop. "So, which one is Theo exactly," Lee asked in a mischievous tone.

Now Mason wished their wrong fake IDs had worked.

16 notes · View notes

ace-oreos · 3 years

Note

Aaaah! Thank you!!!

(However, I'm afraid I'm not here to help, I'm here to make it worse!)

I've got a prompt if you're still taking them : Alpha and Fordo being assholes to each other but always having each other's backs // or some good old fashioned Jango guilt in his POV when Baby Alpha shows that he's not just some flesh droid

♡♡♡♡ Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Of course! 😄

I mean, I really can’t complain, can I? XD

Okay so I absolutely love both ideas. I went with some Fordo and Alpha snippets this time around, but I am definitely going to do something with that Jango prompt, too.

Alpha hoped to make a discreet return to barracks - which isn’t all unusual, given that he isn’t one of the GAR’s conversationalists - and thinks he might just have gotten away with it until he enters the code for the quarters he shares with Fordo.

Fordo refrains from an overt reaction, but the slight raise of his eyebrow says enough.

“It isn’t polite to stare,” Alpha informs his brother tartly.

“Would you rather I let you bleed out?”

“I’d rather you left me alone, actually,” Alpha grumbles, peeling back the sleeve of his bodysuit to examine the damage.

“What kind of brother would I be if I did that?”

Alpha is too busy cursing the Separatists and their shabla commando droids to bother answering. If he hadn’t been caught up fending off a squad of B2s while the Jedi in command was off playing hearts and minds with the unwilling locals, he might have noticed the greater threat sooner. He’s trained to deal with melee weapons, of course, but it would have been an awful lot easier had he been able to engage them without worrying about the B2s.

“Hey,” Fordo says, nudging him gently. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Trying to keep my arm from falling off?” Alpha says through gritted teeth.

His brother doggedly continues. “The fight’s over. Stop replaying it.”

“Thanks, vod. I’ll remember that next time I’m seconds away from a bloody death.”

Fordo patiently hands him a wad of bandages he stores under his bunk for these exact situations. Alpha, now wishing his brother didn’t know him so well, accepts with a sigh.

“You really should get a medic to take a look at that,” Fordo advises.

Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to hold back a hiss of pain. The gash is deep, running the length of his forearm and curling over his wrist. Blocking a vibrosword with his gauntlet was admittedly a poor decision, but it was that or be ripped open by the blade.

Fordo still doesn’t seem content that Alpha is capable of attending to his own wounds. “I never thought you of all people would act like this.”

“Like what?” Alpha snaps, finally at the end of his patience.

“Like Jango,” Fordo says sharply.

The deafening silence stretches between them. If Alpha wasn’t thinking that collapsing from blood loss is a real threat at this point - if Fordo had let him alone in the first place - if his brother hadn’t felt the need to dredge up memories and emotions Alpha thought he’d long since moved past -

“Usen’ye,” he snarls. “Don’t ever say that again. Tayli’bac?”

“Whatever you say,” Fordo bites back, “Lieutenant.”

In the end, Alpha is left to deal with his wounds himself. The first set of bandages are useless by now, but he’s less than eager to be fussed over by a medic. So he cleans and dresses it sloppily, shoving away the first twinges of remorse that creep up on him as he works.

Fordo returns some time later. Alpha is already curled on his bunk, cradling his bad arm. He hears Fordo place something next to him but doesn’t open his eyes until he hears his brother’s breathing even out in sleep.

Alpha gropes around until his hand makes contact with something on the floor. It takes him a few seconds, but he eventually realizes Fordo must have made a visit to the medbay. There’s a pile of fresh bandages and some bacta waiting beside his bunk.

__________________________

“Are you planning on staying awake until Kamino dries out?” Alpha demands. Fordo has been working through a mountain of mission reports for the past six hours like he didn’t just return from a months-long deployment.

“Duty calls, vod’ika,” Fordo answers without looking up.

“First, quit calling me that. Second, you’re about as useful as osik when you’re exhausted.”

“Someone has to do it, and you don’t have the security clearance to see these,” Fordo says before breaking off in a yawn.

“Security clearance my shebs. I got promoted, remember?”

“Hard to forget when you won’t shut up about it.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t concerned you won’t ever get through those,” Alpha says indignantly. “Look, there’s nothing saying you have to have those sorted immediately.”

“You know Maze - he’ll get that disappointed look, and I’d hate to deprive him of what little excitement he can come by on Triple Zero.”

Alpha allows himself a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe you should stop on Coruscant for a spell. Then you could get some rest.”

“Aww, are you worried, ver’alor?”

“Worried that you’re going to screw up and give a regiment orders to take out the chain of command,” Alpha retorts, and snatches the datapad from Fordo’s hands.

His brother yawns again before commenting, “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

“You’re too tired to be passing judgement,” Alpha returns. “Get some rest.”

Fordo sighs. “Fine.”

“Good to go,” Alpha says, but his satisfication is short-lived when Fordo follows up with, “As soon as I’m done with the next lot.”

There’s no changing his brother’s mind once it’s made up. Fordo takes the datapad from Alpha unprompted and returns to his work.

He refrains from commenting when Alpha sets a cup of caf down on his desk with more force than is strictly necessary two hours later.

__________________________

Alpha can’t for the life of him figure out when Fordo had time to become something of a social butterfly. His brother is dedicated, disciplined, everything Alpha remembers him to be - but he also has a way of applying those very traits to just about anything, regardless of whether it’s relevant to the war effort.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Fordo says, like this phrasing of their ongoing argument will somehow change Alpha’s mind.

“I’d be more of a killjoy if I let you drag me all over Coruscant, trust me.”

“I refuse to believe that until I have firsthand evidence.”

“You do that,” Alpha says, fully uninterested in the prospect of spending the night exploring Coruscant’s social scene.

Fordo appraises him. “Scared, Seventeen?”

“I’m not scared,” Alpha snaps, because while they might be the GAR’s finest he still can’t let something like that go unrefuted.

“Half of my squad is going,” Fordo says coaxingly.

“Fordo. No.”

“I’ll just have to tell Mereel you’re too shy.” Fordo sighs theatrically. It’s not much of a strategy, but it certainly gets Alpha’s attention.

“Wait, what does Mereel have to do with this?” he asks, frowning.

“You two seem to get along so well, it’s only fair that I tell him his vod’ika is too coward to step outside his comfort zone for a little while.”

“I’m not - it’s not like - don’t bring him into this!”

Fordo grins. “Then you’ll come?”

“Do I have a choice?” Alpha grumbles.

“It’s me or Mereel, ner vod.”

Put up with his brother’s incessant nagging or Mereel and everything that comes with him. Alpha doesn’t have to spend long weighing his options.

He even starts to enjoy himself a few hours in. Fordo’s men are lively, eager to experience Coruscant for themselves, but they make space for Alpha, too.

Fordo sends Alpha a knowing smirk every so often. Alpha doesn’t let it get to him - but he resolves to take Fordo to the mats sometime soon.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #captain fordo #captain maze #jango fett #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#these two have a fun dynamic

34 notes · View notes

tracybirds · 3 years

Text

Don’t talk to me about timelines XD lockdown 3.0 was an unpleasant surprise but it did give me some fun fodder to play with. Missing from this were the stream of Valentines to Covid that spread around my section of NZ social media XD I was tempted to make Scott write some, but alas it didn’t fit. Obviously plenty has been fudged, it’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and more allows me to collect together some of the mixed emotions of getting a five hour countdown to lockdown D: That was not fun lol like far out, and we had to prepped for remote learning by 9am the next day. Scott is not allowed to complain further in his swanky apartment and no job XDD

In all seriousness, this is Scott’s story for FabFiveFeb2021, hosted by the ever lovely @gumnut-logic (Happy Birthday! still the right day in Aus, I didn’t miss it right :0 either way *hugs*** and I hope it was a nice day :DD)

Prompt used was “Are you kidding?” - it really resonated on Sunday evening ahaha (okay I will stop rambling in my defense it’s post midnight and I have feverishly pummelled this out in a couple of hours, it had been itching at me all day.... I missed that feeling :DDD)

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

Scott was International Rescue through and through, but in the murky waters of the central business district, he thrived.

It was a closed meeting, stretching into the long shadowy hours of the evening. Legal advisors quibbled over clauses while Scott exchanged pleasantries with the company representatives, talking up his local ties to New Zealand’s City of Sails.

“My Dad taught me to sail, right out there in the harbour, you know.”

A casual remark but carefully designed to make himself seem approachable and down-to-earth, just another “one of the guys”. His associate had also sailed once, a national representative in his youth, although time and his new habit of lunch meetings had left those days long in the past.

Personal connections made more money than the lawyers in the background ever could, and Scott prided himself on the homegrown touch.

“Mine too,” said the jovial, middle aged man. “Although I reckon it wasn’t near as pretty a yacht as yours. I’ve read up on you as well, you know.”

Scott laughed, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Len, I knew we’d get on. What do you say to dinner? This has been going on for far too long.”

“I know a great place that keeps a table reserved for me. Even on Valentine’s.”

“I’m flattered.” He nodded to Van Zyl briefly before addressing the small crowd.

“Ladies, gentlemen. You’ve done some good work, and it’s been a long one. We’ll leave it here for the night and reconfer in the morning.”

He acknowledged the tired smiles and leaned back and listened as the chatter evolved from the dry intricacies of patent law into cheery conversation of dinner plans and family time ahead.

He turned and looked out at the city, lights starting to turn on in the early evening light. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so and he wanted to make the most of what they had left in the day.

So did the rest of the Auckland population it seemed. Cars were flooding into the area, people starting to stream into office buildings.

“So, Federal Street?”

“Len, what’s going on down there?” he asked, jabbing a finger down at the street below.

“Sorry?”

He and Len watched, dumbfounded as the office buildings lit up one by one, lights turning on and off again mere minutes later.

“Mr Tracy! Mr Van Zyl!”

“Charlotte, what is it? What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, I mean, Mr Tracy, sorry sir.”

“Charlotte. Take a breath,” commanded Scott, letting the authority of Thunderbird One bleed into his voice. “Tell us what’s happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, her hand creeping up over her mouth. She handed him her tablet.

“It’s a civil defence lockdown, effective midnight.”

A cold dread crept up Scott’s spine.

“Tonight?!”

Len pulled out a comm beside him and started dialling. The person on the other end picked up at the first ring, and dimly Scott could hear her calm, measured voice transmitted through the device.

“Can I help?” he asked, still staring at the stark words on the page.

“I… uh... help? Sir?”

“With the civil defence response, with the company, I don’t know!” He looked up, desperation in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”

Charlotte shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Mr Tracy, we have an isolation response in place, at your father’s request. Leave the board to organise the company, you need to get home and…”

“No.”

Charlotte’s voice pitched up a near octave.

“Sir, I must insist…”

“There are lockdown protocols on the island as well,” snapped Scott. “I can’t just go home, risk my family, my Grandma.”

She shook her head again.

“You can’t help here. They’ve done it before. It’s Level Three, people will be able to collect gear tomorrow if needed, we’re set up for remote offices and the last thing people need is you dilly-dallying in the top office.”

A loud shrieking alarm pierced through her final words and Scott flinched at the sound.

Len yelped next to him, dropping his comm with a curse.

“Damn emergency alerts, don’t they know the whole country has heard by now? Why do they just SHUT UP!” he bellowed at the still beeping comm. “It’s so unnecessary, the first time we went under, I thought we were about to evacuate for a volcanic eruption. Staying home, it’s hardly an emergency.”

Charlotte did little to hide her scorn, but Scott smothered a smile as he read through the full message.

“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “I can bunker down at the apartment for a few days.”

“Weeks, I’d be prepping for,” interrupted Len. “Hard to say of course, but they keep extending them.”

“You know why we do it,” said Charlotte, coolly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to pretend it’s a holiday like everyone else seems to do.”

“Well, there never was any rest for the wicked, they say,” quipped Scott.

Len barked a sudden laugh.

“You’re alright, Tracy. Shame about how this ended, I’d have liked a bite with you.”

“Well, there’s always next time. Maybe we’ll find time for a shared celebration after all this.”

“My treat, Tracy, my treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care now.”

Scott nodded a farewell and turned back to Charlotte.

“You’re going to be fine?”

“I’ll go stay with my Mum,” she said, easily. “She doesn’t like to be in her house alone, and I can’t say I blame her. Holotech’s just not the same as being there, you know?”

“I certainly do,” said Scott, thinking of his brothers, hundreds of kilometres away. “Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck, Scott.”

***

The downtown apartment was a mere fifteen minute walk from Tracy Tower, but with Charlotte’s words echoing in the back of his mind, the thought of potentially weeks stuck in an incredibly well furnished, yet incredibly unstocked apartment plaguing him, he opted to swing past the local supermarket. Located at the heart of the city, it was never quiet at the best of times but this was unlike anything Scott had ever seen.

The tension in the packed shop was thick as the throng that filled it. Over half the customers were already wearing masks, glaring suspiciously at those who had gone without and Scott self-consciously tugged his rain jacket higher.

Essentials, he thought wildly, just eggs and milk and bread and….

There was no bread. No flour either and the confectionary aisle was already looking sparse. He grabbed a few chocolate bars and threw them in the basket.

“Excuse me,” he said, waving down a frantic and wild-eyed shop assistant. “Do you have any bread out back?”

“No way man, haven’t you heard? Lockdown hits in like three hours, people are going mental.”

“But I don’t have any food at home, I was meant to be flying back tomorrow morning.”

The shop assistant, Ariki as his name badge proclaimed him, grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s hard luck that is. You don’t live in Auckland?”

“No, I don’t. But I won’t be able to get home now either.”

He nodded, like he’d heard it before.

“You’re thinking this is like last year, aren’t you?”

“I, uh, yes.”

“Right,” said Ariki, still nodding along with him. “Right, well it’s not quite the same so don’t stress out. Look, you can still get takeaways this time, we’ll be restocked tomorrow and all the real crazies–” he nodded towards a pair who were arguing over what looked like the last can of baked beans, “–yeah, they’ll be tucked up at home, refusing to take a step outside, it’ll be sweet as.”

Scott stared at him, then looked over at the line snaking through the frozen food aisle, between the meat and dairy and coiling up in the sad looking and so-called fresh produce.

The two chocolate bars and eggs he’s managed to grab hardly seemed worth it at all.

“I can put those back if you want.”

“Yeah,” said Scott, dazedly. “Yeah, thanks that’s be great.”

Ariki smirked a little.

“We’re reopening at seven, yeah? I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks again,” called Scott as he hurried from the shop.

The rain that had been threatening its arrival all weekend was starting to appear, and Scott hurried home, ducking his head down and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there’d be enough food for at least his dinner tonight and Ariki was right, he could sort the rest in the morning.

A swipe of his keycard, and he shut out the world with a muffled slam of the door and a sigh.

He shucked off his rain jacket, not bothering to hang it up, and trudged into the kitchen. It wasn’t like there’d be anyone around to complain for a while and he was starving. Lunch, the little afternoon tea nibbles they’d provided, even his last coffee felt like it had been drunken in another life.

Dinner, then finally he’d call home.

He didn’t doubt they already knew what was happening, was probably wondering why he hadn’t called, but none of them had even been swept up in the chaos of lockdown preparations.

He stared blankly in front of the fridge, the cold, bluish light illuminating him in the dark room. The sun had fully set by now, and the last vestiges of twilight had given way to the true, deep night with the onset of rainfall.

His carefully defrosting steak wasn’t on the shelf, and he looked around him in confusion, wondering if he’d accidentally left the meat out on the bench. He was hungry enough that he didn’t think he’d care and his stomach was well practiced at digesting the indigestible, bug and all.

On the kitchen counter was a neat pile: a plate, used utensils and cooking equipment all stacked together, waiting to be washed.

Scott blinked.

“Oh, hey, Scott,” called Gordon’s cheerful voice from behind him.

Scott whirled around, gaping at his younger brother, suddenly in their New Zealand apartment and not where he ought to have been – namely a thousand odd kilometres north east of the kitchen they were standing in.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You,” Scott shouted, jabbing a finger towards Gordon. “You ate my dinner!”

“Oh, crap.”

Gordon bolted a split second before Scott charged at him, yelling wildly with all his might.

“Scott, I’m sorry, it was – shit, I mean – come on, it was past nine, I thought you’d been out, and I, oh damn, I, Scott, damn it, I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t care, you ate my food, have you seen the grocery stores? It’s absolute chaos, you traitor, you can go out and get me something, put some pants on and move.”

Gordon yelped as he dove over the couch.

“Okay, I can see there’s been some errors in judgement here,” said Gordon, panting. “I’m sorry, Scott, I really am.”

Scott glared.

“Not good enough.” He paused, eyeing Gordon as he cowered behind the sofa. “What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Here. What are you doing in Auckland?”

“Happy birthday to me too, love you bro, congrats on surviving another year.”

“You came to Auckland for your birthday?”

“Yeah.” Gordon sat up cautiously. “Couldn’t exactly see Penny, and it’s not like there’s many other places that will let us in.”

“I thought we counted as a US territory.”

“John cleared it with someone, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to be stuck at home for my birthday. And look how that turned out.”

He did look extraordinarily sorry for himself.

Scott sighed, and reached out a hand.

“Go get some damn pants on,” he grumbled. “And go look for Virgil’s emergency snacks, I know he stores them everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare come back unless you bring me food.”

Gordon snorted.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to provoke the wrath of a starving Scooter.”

Scott jerked his body towards Gordon, and smirked as he bolted up the stairs towards the bedrooms, before sinking down into the cushions and closing his eyes.

The comm beeped gently, a stark contrast from the blaring alert from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, opening an eye as Virgil was projected in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not–”

“Oh, I am.”

“Gordon too?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were both quiet for few seconds, thinking about how rapidly the world had seemed to shift around them.

“I suppose it’s only for a few days,” began Virgil, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“We gotta do the full two weeks. After that, we ought to be able to clear an exit with the harbourmaster and the coast guard, even if it’s not over, but we can’t come back earlier. The only reason we could move freely before without our helmets is because–”

“Preaching to the choir, Scott. I get it.”

“You gonna be alright without us?”

Virgil shrugged. “Rescues are down what with more people staying at home. Alan and I can handle the small change, and Kayo’s been itching for some POD practice recently. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re the one stuck with Gordon.”

“Hey!”

“Food,” growled Scott and Gordon threw a muesli bar and a tube of M&Ms at him.

“Is that mine?”

“Gordon ate my dinner and the shops were out of everything,” grumbled Scott. “Blame him.”

“It’s my birthday, I don’t deserve this.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alright, don’t kill each other before the two weeks is up. John’s already organised a betting pool, don’t give him the satisfaction of winning again, he’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh, he’s on,” said Gordon, grinning. “Tell him I put fifty bucks on Scott tipping me out of bed or off the couch by the end of the week.”

“Got it.”

“You can’t bet against us,” said Scott, mumbling around the chocolate. “I thought you were on my side.”

“You tried to murder me over a steak.”

“The jury would have never convicted.”

“Okay, I can see you two are going to have a fun time,” said Virgil, loudly over their bickering. “See you in two weeks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, two weeks was a smidge outside even his patience.

#scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #sometimes i fic

20 notes · View notes

callboxkat · 4 years

Note

Hiya! For the prompt perhaps #11 "I’ll try to come back before you die." with Remus and any other side. :D

Capture the Flag

Author’s note: Finally filling this prompt you sent like 12 years ago. XD I hope you like it!

Summary: Patton decides to put together a game of Capture the Flag, light sides vs. dark sides, for a bit of friendly competition. Not everything goes as planned.

Warnings: death mention, weapons mention, cheating, Remus, censored swearing

Word count: 2412

Writing Masterpost!

...

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil muttered. He was sitting on the couch of the Mindscape commons area, Roman at his side. Logan and Patton stood, Logan with his arms folded. On the other side of the room, Janus stood beside the second couch, which the others sat upon. Remus was eating deodorant stick after deodorant stick, looking around at everyone else curiously.

Patton glanced at Virgil with a sympathetically reassuring expression, although Virgil of all sides could recognize the nervousness he was trying to hide. “Of course I’m sure. It’ll be good to have some friendly competition.”

Virgil gave him a doubtful look.

“Anyway.” Patton summoned a podium to the center of the room, where the coffee table had once been, and stepped up onto it. “Here are the rules of the game—“

“Why do you get to make all of the rules?” asked Janus, subtly raising one gloved hand. “Doesn’t that give your team a potential advantage?”

“Because I’m Morality!” Patton replied in a chipper tone. “Rules come with the territory. But how about we agree, if you have any complaints, we can talk about maybe changing some little things before we get going. And, I won’t be playing, so the teams will be even, and the rules will be even less biased! Does that sound good?”

Janus nodded and stepped back to stand with his team: the other “dark sides”, as Roman called them, although Virgil would rather not use that name. He’s once been one of them, after all, and the term’s connotation was undeniably villainesque.

Speaking of Roman, the creative side seemed to also have something to say. “How do we know they’ll follow the rules, anyway?”

“If they do not follow the rules, I would assume their points would no longer count,” Logan said. “Correct?”

“Correct!” said Patton. “So I guess that’s rule number one. You have to follow the rules.”

After that, he began listing off the real rules. Most of them involved basic stuff, having to do with how capture the flag was played. For example, they couldn’t hide the flags in unreasonably difficult to find places, the flags couldn’t be within ten feet of each other, they couldn’t bring back more than one of the flags at once, and if you were caught while bringing a flag back, you had to give the flag back, return to your team’s area, and wait ten minutes before trying to go back for the same one.

Other rules were more specific to their situation, as sides, and to certain sides’ tendencies. They couldn’t summon each other during the game, Janus couldn’t make people slam their hands on their mouths as an excuse to make them drop the flag, no one could use a weapon or shapeshift, and they had to walk the whole time—so, for example, if one of them was caught with a flag before crossing the border, they couldn’t simply rise up again where they remembered it being. And no one could steal back a flag that had already made it into the other team’s territory, something that Virgil suspected Janus had definitely been planning on doing had that rule not been explicitly stated.

Patton finished listing off the last few rules, counting them off on his fingers. Janus argued about wording on some of them, but soon enough, they had a list of rules everyone was (mostly) happy with.

Once that was done, all of the sides rose up in the imagination, which had been decorated specially for the day. Remy, a figment of Thomas’s imagination, not a side and therefore at least hypothetically impartial, sat in a tall chair positioned just atop a long, glowing rainbow line that stretched across the imagination, which today took the form of a large field transitioning to forest on either side.

Remy, clearly the judge of the game, took a long, loud sip of tea before leaning forward. “Ready, babes?”

“All set!” Patton replied cheerily.

“Alright, sweet. Patty, your team’s on the left“ —he gestured off in that direction with his tea—“and the rest of you losers get the right.”

“Oh, I’m not playing,” Patton said. “I’m hanging out with you!”

“Sure, doll. As for the rest of you, all your flags are in this chest, riiiight... here.”

A large wooden chest had appeared at his feet, open to reveal three silver flags and three gold flags.

“Dibs on gold!” Remus yelled, clearly to the dismay of his brother.

That was probably exactly why he wanted that color, Virgil figured. To annoy his brother.

Janus handed off two of the golden flags to his teammates, who vanished into the woods to find places for them. Meanwhile, Logan carefully picked up the silver flags, inspecting them more closely than Virgil felt was really warranted for a few imaginary pieces of fabric.

Remy looked at his wrist, where a watch had materialized. “Might want to get to hiding those flags. The game’s beginning in five minutes.”

“Yes, of course,” Logan said. “As silly as this exercise may be.”

“Says the guy whose theme song is called ‘Hilarious Comedy Monologue’!” said Roman.

“I really wish you hadn’t found that out. Nevertheless....” He handed over the flags, one to Roman, and one to Virgil. “We’d best get going. Silly or not, I do not intend to lose.”

“Nor do I,” commented Janus. He winked, stepped over the line into his team’s territory, and walked off into the trees.

…

The first part of the game went well. Surprisingly well, actually. The others had only stolen one of the silver flags, but Virgil’s team had already managed to take two of theirs.

And Virgil was getting very close to where he suspected the final golden flag was hidden.

He was almost at the edge of the playing area. It made sense, hiding the flag here—it meant Virgil’s team had to walk further to get it without being caught, and gave the others more time to catch them on the way back, as well. The trees in this area were coarser, and darker, and the sun barely reached the forest floor. Virgil almost expected spooky atmospheric music to drift through the air.

He hopped over a fallen tree, ducked under some vines, and he saw it.

The golden flag, its two foot pole stuck in the ground, just barely not hidden enough to break the rules where it stood in a clump of undergrowth.

Virgil crouched, looking around for any sides who might have been trying to guard the flag. The area was silent—eerily so, suspiciously so.

He reached down and grabbed a stone from the ground at his feet, leaned back, and threw it. It hit a tree twenty feet in the opposite direction from the flag.

A clump of undergrowth exploded.

Remus, coated in twigs, leaves, and mud and clearly not at all bothered by it, raced out of his hiding place. “GOT YOU!” he shrieked, running towards the tree the rock had hit.

Meanwhile, Virgil darted out of his own hiding place. He snatched the flag, yanking it out of the stubborn ground (which he was sure Remus would have claimed as an accidental obstacle), and raced back the way he had come.

“Hey, no fair!” Remus cried, although he was cackling the whole time. Virgil could hear him crashing through the trees, trying to catch up. “JAN! VIRGEY’S GOT THE FLAG!”

Suddenly, Janus appeared in front of Virgil, and Virgil ducked around him, still running. He could see another shape running through the trees to his left—the remaining side on their team, probably trying to keep him from making a break that way. The joke was on him, though. Virgil knew exactly where the border was: straight ahead.

Still, three on one wasn’t exactly in Virgil’s favor. He was panting, already out of breath.

Janus appeared in front of him again—okay, he was definitely cheating, whether or not Virgil could prove it—and Virgil darted off to the right.

He ran for a while, dodging through trees and trying to lose them, when he spotted something: a crack in the earth.

A hole?

Virgil darted for it, relieved to find it was the perfect size to hide in. He jumped in, snatched a few branches, and dragged them over the top.

He tried to quiet his breath, there in the dark, the rich scent of moist earth overpowering.

A few seconds passed.

“Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“He can’t have just disappeared—those goody two shoes sides wouldn’t break the rules.”

“We’d know if he made it over the border. He still has to be around somewhere. Let’s split up, find him. Janus, go that way. I’ll go this way. Remus, you stick around here, and back the way we came. He might assume we think he won’t go there again.”

Shoot, Virgil thought, holding his breath. He had been thinking of doubling back and sneaking around them.

“We do know he’s going for the border,” Janus said. “Perhaps we ought to go there. He can’t hide in the open. And that way, once we have the flag back, it’ll be even easier for one of us to head into their side. We can’t just play defense, one flag left or not.”

There was a thoughtful hum. “Okay. You and I will go do that. Remus, you look around here.”

Two sets of footsteps walked away. For a moment, there was silence, and then a loud thump! Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. Somehow, he managed not to make any noise.

“Ah, this sure would be more fun with you, wouldn’t it?” Remus crooned. Virgil could clearly picture him caressing the morningstar that he doubtlessly held, probably with bits of tree bark pierced on the spikes.

There was a rustle of leaves, and Remus was gone, too.

Virgil counted to twenty, and then slowly pushed away the branches above him.

All three of the others were gone.

“Finally,” Virgil muttered. He grunted, dragging himself out of the hole, and reached to pull the flag out. He got to his feet, dusting himself off. A worm fell out of his hair. Gross.

“There you are!”

“F*ck,” said Virgil. He spun around, and there was Remus, grinning, his morningstar held in both hands.

Remus let out a battle cry and ran forwards, his weapon vanishing, and Virgil took off. His feet pounded on the earth, the golden flag streaming out behind him as he zigzagged through the trees and jumped over branches and rocks.

He was starting to leave Remus behind, thanks to his quick reflexes and a few stumbles on the part of the darkly creative side, when suddenly, the ground grew sticky. His feet sunk into it, the earth reluctant to let him go. It only got worse, and within seconds, Virgil felt like was dragging his limbs through wet concrete.

“Did you really just turn the ground into quicksand?” Virgil cried, outraged. He was quickly sinking, already buried nearly to his waist. Clearly, Remus was using cartoon physics in his manipulation of the Imagination. Virgil knew that real quicksand wouldn’t act this fast, or in any likelihood be this deep.

“I sure did!” Remus sing-songed. He loped up along Virgil’s side, leaned over, and snatched the flag away from him.

“Give that back and let me out of here! You’re cheating!

“Now, now, Virgil, I’m just using my natural talents! There’s nothing wrong with that! Besides, think of all the other things I could have done! I could have dropped you in a pit of snakes! Made a minefield of mousetraps and Legos! Or we could have played “the floor is lava”! Or, ooh, have you ever seen Honey I Shrunk the Kids?”

“The rules said no weapons!”

“Sand isn’t a weapon!”

Virgil glared at him, looking around for anything to grab onto and pull himself out. “I get it, I get it,” he snapped. “You’re very creative. Now let me out!”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I will,” Remus laughed, starting to walk away sassily, waving the flag over his shoulder. “Byyyye! I’ll try to come back before you die!”

“REMUS!!”

…

Virgil wasn’t sure how long he was stuck.

Something about the sand made it impossible to sink out and teleport elsewhere, however hard he tried. Virgil didn’t know how. It probably had something to do with being in the Imagination, and the higher amount of power that certain sides had while they were here. He suspected it was intended as a parting “prank” from Remus.

Thankfully, the rate at which he sank seemed to slow down drastically after Remus disappeared—but by the time he heard footsteps again, coming up from somewhere to his left, Virgil had sunk past his shoulders in the quicksand.

“Hey!” Virgil demanded, struggling harder again. “What the hell!”

“Virgil?”

Relief flooded through him. “Roman.”

The white-and-red clothed figure appeared. “There you are! Logan and I have been looking everywhere! You never came back!”

Virgil did his best to gesture at his current situation with his head. “Yeah, I got held up. Want to help me out of here, Princey?”

“Of course—here.” Roman stepped closer, the quicksand solidifying under his feet, and reached for Virgil. Virgil pulled his arms free, with difficulty, and latched onto Roman, who dragged him out.

Virgil flopped onto the ground—sweet, solid ground—and panted, looking up at the criss-crossing branches. “I really, really hate your brother,” he grunted.

“The feeling is mutual,” Roman said.

Virgil struggled to his feet, and sighed, looking down at his ruined clothes. He shook his arms, trying to dislodge some of the sandy slop that clung to his beloved hoodie.

“Here, let me get that.” Roman snapped his fingers, and the remaining quicksand on his clothes disappeared, as well as the pit of it behind them. “Good?”

“Thanks. Much better.”

“The Dark Sides got another one of our flags,” Roman told him. “Logan’s guarding the last one, so it’s you and me on getting the last flag.”

“Yeah, I almost had it,” Virgil sighed. “But I do know where it is.”

“Oh—If you got caught, don’t you have to walk back to the border first, then, and come back?”

“Who cares? Remus broke the rules first. He was going to let me drown in quicksand! The bets are off. We’re going, now.”

Roman grinned, summoning his sword. “Alright. Let’s do this, then.”

127 notes · View notes

viostormcaller · 4 years

Text

Stringbound Chapter 3

A/N: I really really hope this works... sorry if it’s formatted a bit weird! EDIT: ohmygod I forgot the fucking taglist I am so sorry XD EDIT 2: I forgot amidst my frustration of trying to post this here that I was supposed to edit in all the italics. So I did that. Whoops!

[TW: nausea/vomiting mention, blood, death mention]

Chapter 2

The first thing Marvin noticed behind the darkness of his eyelids was the headache, its ever-persistent pounding and squeezing against his skull as agonizing as it had been since the fight, if not more so. Next was the stomachache, not enough yet to be nauseating, mostly just sore for the time being. Third was the heat; he could tell blankets had been piled on him again -- the same ones from before, no doubt -- and despite how much he was sweating, he also found himself shivering. It was harder to breathe, as well, though it wasn't because of the blankets. However, he didn't feel the need to worry -- he could feel a mask against his mouth and nose and felt significantly cooler air entering his body when he inhaled. Henrik must have put him on an oxygen machine. He also felt that one of his arms was outside of the blankets, and while he couldn't feel it he could tell by the way his arm was positioned that there was an IV there. He could tell he was on the couch instead of in a hospital bed, and he could hear soft murmuring close by. After he felt like he'd done enough assessing of the situation, Marvin slowly opened his eyes, squinting and letting out a quiet, pained groan as the bright daylight entering the room agitated his headache further.

At the noise he heard, Henrik quickly turned around from the crouched position by the couch that he had placed himself in, eyes wide and curious. "Marvin?" he prompted. "Are you awake?"

"Y-yeah…" Marvin got out. "Yes, I'm awake…"

"How do you feel?"

"Awful," Marvin stated plainly. It had been years since he'd felt this sick.

"What symptoms are you having?" Henrik then asked, grabbing the notepad and pen from off the table.

"Headache, chills… I feel warm and cold at the same time. And it's still a bit hard to breathe."

"Any lightheadedness?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Thankfully, no."

"Are you having any pains in the chest at all?"

"No. Aside from it feeling a bit tight, of course, but it doesn't hurt."

"Do you feel nauseous?"

"No, not… not yet, anyway. I'm unsure if I'll be feeling sick later, though…"

"Hm, alright… I will keep the eye on it, and the bucket will be close by, just in case." Henrik proceeded to write all of Marvin's answers down on a piece of paper. He would transfer them to a proper document later, but this will do for now. Actually, while they were on the subject…

"Oh, Marvin?" Henrik spoke up, not looking up from his paper quite yet.

"Mmh?"

"I have some more questions for you, about your reaction to the medicine, yes? Would you mind if I asked them now, or do you want to answer them later, when you are feeling a bit better?"

"We can…" Marvin took a moment to think. It didn't take long to come to a decision. "We can answer them now, but… can you dim the light in the room a bit? It's… making my head ache horribly…"

"Oh! Oh, of course! I apologize, I did not even consider that! Jackie, do you think--?"

"Yup, one step ahead of you," cheerfully replied Jackie, who had been standing by this whole time. He pulled all the curtains closed and dimmed the kitchen light some. "How's this? This good?" he called to Marvin.

Marvin fully opened his eyes, finally able to see without painfully squinting. His headache hadn't gone away, but this was definitely an improvement. "Much better," he sighed. "Thank you."

"No problem, just doin' my job."

Henrik just chuckled, shaking his head as a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Then he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, refocusing himself. "Right, yes. The symptoms. What did you notice after you had taken that medicine?"

Marvin hummed, thinking for a moment. "I remember feeling… nauseous first. The ironic part about that is, after you injected me, it actually helped to ease the nausea. However, when I was talking with Chase, it… came back. The headache followed."

Henrik nodded, writing this down. "Alright, what else?"

"While I was, er… being sick, I remember looking up and the room was spinning. Everything was blurry -- I couldn't tell you if I was seeing triple or more than that. And then I found it harder and harder to breathe in, and from there I began to experience what I can only describe as delirium…"

"Ah, yes," Henrik interjected, looking up. "I remember you mumbling nonsense at me. Do you remember what it was you were saying? Or, well… trying to say?"

Marvin just shook his head. "My guess would be just as good as yours. I haven't a single idea. Heh, I am at the very least grateful I wasn't mumbling any spells. That could have made things a bit… chaotic."

Henrik hummed in agreement, nodding, before continuing. "The only thing I did understand was when you said you felt as if you were going to pass out."

"Ah. Yes, I remember saying that," Marvin confirmed. "I felt very lightheaded seemingly out of nowhere and I was almost positive that I would pass out. Though in my half-conscious state, I couldn't tell if my warning was in my mind or if I'd spoken it aloud. I'm grateful it was the latter."

"Was that all you felt?" Henrik inquired, looking up from his notes once more.

"No, there is one more thing I remember… every vein in my body seemed to ache not long after those first symptoms appeared. At the time I'd no clue what was happening to me, but looking back it could have only been a side effect of the medicine."

Henrik nodded, continuing his furious scribbling on the paper. Finally he let out a breath and put the pen and notepad down on the coffee table. "I thank you for your help, Marvin. One, for being so cooperative, and two, for being my unintentional test subject. I am glad we did not give this to any patients… I am not sure a higher dose of this would be very safe."

"So… does that mean our original plan is a no-go?" Jackie spoke up, a concerned look in his eye.

"I am afraid so," Henrik replied sadly, turning back towards the hero. "The dose I gave Marvin was small, and you can see what it had done to him. In a higher quantity, it could potentially kill someone, and we are trying to avoid that, yes?"

Jackie muttered a curse under his breath, looking away.

"What are you going to do now?" Marvin asked, glancing between them both.

"When Chase returns, we are going to talk more deeply about this. We need a new plan."

Marvin's eyebrows furrowed. "Chase is out? Where did he go?"

"Oh, just to pick up some supplies. Non-perishable food items, medicine… that sort of thing. Is good to be stocked up, yes? Especially now that we have a new person on board."

Marvin slowly nodded in understanding. Yes, that was a smart move. He then looked up, seeing Jackie nearing closer with a grin on his face. Uh oh.

"Hope you didn't lose one of your "nine lives" while you were fighting the effects of the medicine, because we're gonna need you for this. You think you're up for it?"

Marvin just narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you always this utterly idiotic?"

"Hey, be nice!" Jackie protested, placing a hand on his chest and feigning hurt. "I'm the one who saved your life, remember? You'd probably be dead right now if it weren't for me! You better be grateful I stayed home, too, Sourpuss. Had I gone on patrols, there'd be no one to carry Schneep's medical equipment up to you. So there!"

Marvin rolled his eyes and looked away. He'd cross his arms, but one of them had the IV sticking out of it, so that wouldn't be the best idea. Henrik could only laugh to himself, shaking his head. It was easy to forget how much of a child Jackie still was, until they had moments like this.

"Do you need anything, Marvin?" Henrik asked, pulling himself from his thoughts.

"A… a cloth over my head would be appreciated," Marvin admitted.

"I'll get it!" Jackie announced.

"No, I will get it," Henrik quickly interjected, rising from his spot on the floor. "You have bothered Marvin enough for one day, I feel."

As Henrik turned to stretch, Jackie stuck his tongue out at him when he wasn't looking.

Just then, the door swung open, startling everyone in the room. It was no other than Chase, of course, carrying a few bags of groceries, but… he was covered in splatters of… blood?

"Before you ask, no, the blood isn't mine," Chase spoke up, gently kicking the door shut behind him and setting the plastic grocery bags down on the floor.

"Holy shit, what happened?!" Jackie exclaimed.

"Dude, it's like a war zone out there!" Chase said. "Have you seen the news? God, there's fuckin' people everywhere! All scramblin' around tryin' to stock up. He's got his puppets on the loose. I was fuckin' lucky to get outta there alive…"

Jackie let out a curse, quickly snatching up the remote sitting on the coffee table and turning on the TV, switching it to the news channel. The four of them watched as the woman on the TV explained the scene unfolding downtown, showing an aerial view of what was going on. There weren't that many puppets, but just enough to cause havoc.

"I gotta go," Jackie got out, tossing the remote down and already heading for the door. He was grateful that he was already suited up.

"Jackie, wait," Chase called, reaching a hand out to him.

Jackie paused in his tracks, turning to face Chase with a hum. The determination and urgency in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Are you… sure it's safe to go out there? Like… alone, I mean?"

Jackie just huffed, almost like he'd laughed. "I mean, it's not, but who else is gonna do it, if not me? Marvin's out of commission, and you know as well as I do that the police do fuck-all."

Chase just looked away with a thoughtful hum. Jackie had a point, he couldn't deny that.

"I gotta go. See you in a few hours, alright?"

"Stay safe, Jackie," Henrik said.

"Yeah, man… be careful out there. Shit's a mess." Chase agreed.

Jackie huffed, a smile growing on his face. "No need to worry, guys. I'll be fine, trust me." And with that, he was out the door.

Henrik turned the news off with a sigh, recalling his ever-present fear of watching the news on a late night only to hear that the city's famed vigilante, Jackieboy Man, was dead. Every time he left the house, he mentally prepared himself for that day, and every time he hoped it never came.

"Well…" Chase spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence. "I'm gonna go shower. Gotta get this blood off me."

"Yes, good… good idea," Henrik nodded, clearly preoccupied.

"Um, Chase, if you don't mind my asking, how did you get blood on you in the first place?" Marvin asked.

Chase looked to Marvin with saddened eyes. "Had to witness a puppet killing someone… was too close when it happened. I'm never gonna forget that… the look on their face… the way they screamed…" Chase could only sigh, hugging himself. He shook his head, turning towards the stairs. "I… I need to be alone for a while…" With that, he left to go grab some clean clothes and a towel from his room so he could get cleaned up.

There was a heavy silence lingering in the room after Chase left, thick as the blankets covering Marvin and twice as suffocating. Finally, letting out a breath as if to push away some of the fog-like tension to give himself a little breathing room, Henrik turned away from the TV and headed towards the closet under the stairs. "Marvin, you said you wanted a cloth for the head, yes?"

Marvin perked up at his name, looking towards Henrik. "Er, y-yes, uh… yes, that would… help…"

Henrik nodded, fetching a small washcloth and heading towards the kitchen sink. He turned on the faucet and let the water run over his hand, adjusting the temperature between hot and cold until he was sure that it was cool and not cold. He then grabbed a spare bowl, filled it with the water, and headed back over to the couch. He took great care in dipping the folded washcloth in the water, wringing it out, and placing it over Marvin's forehead, though Marvin expected nothing less from a doctor.

"How does that feel? Good?"

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate it," Marvin answered with a nod.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No, not at all. Thank you, though." His answer was honest, but even if he did need something, he wouldn't dare ask. Not right now.

With a simple nod, Henrik rose, heading for the basement. He wasn't gone for very long, but when he came back up, Marvin noticed that he was now wearing gloves. He watched with intrigue as Henrik went about setting down some paper towels on the kitchen floor. Then, Henrik began to set the grocery bags on the paper towels, carrying as many over as he could at one time until all the bags were moved. It was only then that Marvin was able to see the blood splattered on some of the plastic bags. He'd been previously confused, but now what Henrik was doing made sense. He continued to silently watch as Henrik took off the gloves and set them aside, grabbed a new pair from his pocket, and put them on. He began to sort the groceries, putting away the food items and setting aside the medicines and Band-Aids and the like to be stored downstairs with the first-aid supplies.

Once the food was put away and the medicine separated, Henrik grabbed as many medicines as he could in his arms and headed for the basement stairs. It took him two trips to get everything down, though when he came back up he brought with him a biohazard bin. All the plastic bags, paper towels, and the first pair of gloves were tossed in. He then grabbed some more paper towels and a bottle of some sort of cleanser Marvin didn't recognize right away and began to spray and wipe down the area by the door where Chase had dropped the bags. Once everything was clean and put away, he headed back downstairs with the bin, and when he came up he was empty-handed and no longer wearing his gloves. He settled himself into the armchair with a sigh, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. Not a word was spoken between him and Marvin. Eventually the pair heard Chase come out of the bathroom, the opening and closing of one door, and then the opening and closing of another. Chase didn't come back downstairs after that. Eventually Henrik, too, excused himself, mentioning he was going back downstairs to check on Jack for a bit, leaving Marvin alone in the living room.

That thick duvet of silence never truly left, but as the number of people within the room dwindled, it grew ever heavier, threatening to swallow everything that remained there, Marvin included. With a heavy, tired sigh, however, he decided he wouldn't let it, instead allowing his mind to wander, to silently fill the space with his own muted noise. And he simply waited, waited for Henrik to return, for Chase to come back downstairs. For Jackie to come home.

Taglist: @jade-orade @taizu-lazure @bupine @innocent-angel3 @immabethehero @wowowgoodurl @n-anon @g-rexthedino @scarletender @coconutpillow05 @friezzzboiii (Ask if you would like to be tagged!!)

#nausea mention tw #vomiting mention tw #blood tw #death tw #jacksepticeye #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #antisepticeye #stringbound #stringbound chapter 3 #vio stormcaller

26 notes · View notes

nossbean · 4 years

Note

Ooh Hot Chocolate for the WIP meme, if you please :)

hee! I’m going to cheat possibly and combine this and Hot Chocolate II XD This sprung from asking a friend for a prompt for a writing warm-up last winter, hence the season appropriate: hot chocolate! Neither of these have any plot: my first go at the prompt is the start of a deleted scene from the Pacific Rim AU fic I did, with Jaime waking up before Brienne on his first morning in Tarth. Buuut it didn’t really have anywhere to go; I like it, but it petered out at just under 500 words. The second one is book canon, set in the future where Brienne and Jaime are visiting Sansa in the North with their kidlets. It has... genuinely no plot! This fic says: How did any of them survive? How did they get to where they are, post-war? Who knows! Who cares! They’re happy and healthy and mostly whole and that’s what matters! I do like it, for some slice of life fluff and I did come close to posting it -- I think it lived as a draft on AO3 before reaching that month limit to when AO3 deletes drafts, and indeed, reading it back now, I’m pretty sure I’d made some edits to the ao3 version to how Brienne in particular acts at the end. I’m not sure I’ll return to it, but in case it might bring some warm feelings as is, here’s the version I have:

Winterfell is under several feet of snow when they arrive. It is, at least, something to distract the children. Jo and Gall immediately fall all over themselves, tangled with Sansa’s Robb. Arya appears from only the Gods know where, and throws a loosely-packed snowball with infuriating accuracy at Jaime’s face. It collapses on impact, filling his nose and his beard, and somehow managing to sneak under the neck of his clothes to chill his chest, and with a growl, he launches himself into the mix.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s kneeled now in front of Gall, helping Jo and Robb pack snow around his legs to make him into a snowman. He has no idea where Arya’s gone, which is worrying, but he suspects Arya won’t disturb him when he’s playing with his children. Jo is in charge, one hand on her hip, the other pointing imperiously as she orders Jaime and Robb to work faster, bury her brother more efficiently, and Jaime delays long enough to cause her to frown severely at him, a downward pout to her mouth that he knows mirrors his own when he’s doing his best to goad Brienne, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever loved their daughter more. Of course, the thought is one which crosses his mind by the minute; with a glance to Gall, who is shimmying with excitement, sending the packed snow tumbling in small clumps, and his heart is full. He is so lucky. He remembers, every day.

“Fa-ther,” Jo says, and Jaime says quickly, “My apologies, Lady Joanna,” pretending at being demure when she nods regally, and redoubles his efforts.

His gold hand is surprisingly useful for the task, comparatively. That is, until Gall looks over Jaime’s shoulder and starts giggling, covering his mouth in a motion reminiscent of his mother. It’s enough warning, and Jaime collapses sideways onto his arse, just as Brienne drops an armful of snow where he’d been kneeled. It lands, now, on his calves and feet, and Jaime scowls, looking up at his wife. Her eyes are bright over her cold-kissed-red cheeks, broken teeth peeking from the wonderful curve of her smile, and Jaime curses his age as he struggles to scramble to his feet to tackle her into a nearby snowdrift.

Brienne gives him the time, though, kind, foolish woman that she is. She laughs up at him as they fall, the children hollering behind them, and Jaime wonders that he ever lived without the warm song in his chest brought on by the sound of her laughter. Once they’re collapsed, surrounded by snow, he squirms to prop himself up beside her, and promptly sets about stealing her scarf.

“You’ve made me cold, wife.”

“I haven’t,” she says, setting her jaw and tugging back on her scarf. “You should have dressed more warmly.”

“I didn’t expect such a chilly welcome,” he says, and Brienne groans and rolls her eyes. Jaime grins, then persists dramatically, “I also did not anticipate being attacked by our hosts upon arrival.”

“Last time we were here, Arya pushed you into the watering trough within minutes.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you bloody well should have anticipated it.”

“I have learned that in life, it is possible to mature,” he tells her with exaggerated sobriety. “And I had hoped that Arya might —”

“That Arya might what?” Arya says behind him. Brienne looks past his shoulder and starts snickering.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No,” Brienne says, tone what passes for sing-song with Brienne, and he almost doesn’t hate when the cold water soaks his head and slips under his various layers to spread wet patches across his undershirt. He definitely doesn’t hate when Brienne splutters furiously as he shakes his head, spraying her and Arya, who he hear skips back with an outraged yelp.

Mostly he soaks Brienne though. She deserves it for her betrayal.

After they escape to their quarters to change — and have a quick tumble, for the sake of warming his blood, he had declared, and Brienne had murmured shut up against his mouth, her fingers already on the ties of his breeches— one of Sansa’s handmaidens leads them to Sansa’s solar.

Sansa smiles as she embraces Brienne and nods to Jaime. She is still a little shadowed, but each time they visit, she seems a little brighter, a little less guarded and distant. She gestures for them to sit, and says, “Ser Jaime, I think this may please you.”

“I will be honest with you, Lady Sansa,” he says, settling beside Brienne and leaning back in his chair to stretch his legs out in front of him. “Little has pleased me of Stark hospitality thus far.”

Brienne shoots him a look, but he sees as the turn to Sansa’s smile becomes more true, the way her eyes flicker mischief. She says, with the barest sardonic emphasis, “I’m terribly sorry for the nature of your welcome. I will speak with my sister.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he replies, matching her tone.

“Perhaps this will make it up to you,” she says, and stands. She moves to the sideboard where mugs of something steaming wait. “We had an envoy from Dorne recently,” she says, lifting the tray and carrying it over. “They gifted us with this drink concoction. It is surprisingly suitable for snowy winters, given it came from warm climes.”

Jaime reaches out for a mug, passes it to Brienne, before taking one for himself. He sniffs dubiously at the steam rising from the brown mixture: it smells sweet, and rich, and dark, somehow. His mouth waters from the scent alone and he spares a passing thought that of course something so obviously luxuriant is a Dornish beverage before he raises the mug to sip.

The thick liquid spreads warm through his mouth, coating his tongue, and he hears Brienne offer a startled moan beside him. Rarely has he ever tasted something which matches its scent, but this drink — the sweetness fills his mouth, offset by a slight bitterness. It’s delicious. And yes, warming. It spreads heat down his chest, settling comfortingly in his belly. He drinks again, settling into the coziness it brings.

“So?” Sansa asks. Jaime opens his eyes and tips his head up to meet her gaze, looking down on him archly through the steam of another mug still on the platter. “Are we forgiven?”

For the sake of his wife, he ought to make this easy. But there’s a glint in Sansa’s eyes that he’s keen to tease out. So he shrugs insouciantly and says, “That depends.”

“On?” Sansa says evenly.

“How generous you are with your remaining stores.”

“Ah. That may depend on how keen you are to maintain truce with my sister. Really, this was a gift to her.”

“Mmm,” Jaime says thoughtfully. He looks to Brienne. “Are we prepared for war with the North?”

Under normal circumstance, Jaime would laugh at the serious look on his lady wife’s face despite how transparently absurd he is being, but Jaime has a facade to maintain. So when Brienne says firmly, “No,” Jaime sighs dramatically and turns back to Sansa.

“It seems we have reached an impasse, and it falls to me to be the bigger person.” He ignores Brienne’s disbelieving snort — will extract recompense later that this is what breaks her stern exterior — and nods graciously to Sansa. “All is forgiven.”

#thank you!#it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined #askbox #writing meme #humble fic offerings

12 notes · View notes

inquisitorhotpants · 3 years

Text

Author Interview

tagged by @semper-draca

Name: inquisitorhotpants - I joined Tumblr while I was very very into DAI, and then when that fandom fell by the wayside I was still writing an inquisitor, albeit a Sith inquisitor this time, so it still works. xD

Fandoms: SWTOR, the prequels in general, and uhhh ... that’s about it lately, unless something grabs my attention for a couple of weeks, like The Witcher did awhile back.

Where do you post: I post ficlets on here (when I remember to answer asks, sorry everyone who still has asks in my inbox), and everything else is over on my AO3.

Most popular one shot: Valhalla, a one-shot I wrote AGES ago (as in, I put it on AO3 when I joined there, but before that it was on FF.net) inspired by the celebration music at the end of ANH, in which Anakin turns up in, essentially, Jedi Valhalla. I’d probably tinker with it now, but I’ve decided i really should just leave it alone (and it has one of my favorite pieces of commissioned art, too).

Most popular multi chapter: Chaos & Opportunity. Originally intended as like, a 3 chapter crackfic, I had to create the ship tag for it on AO3, and now it’s turned into this whole trilogy that I’m exceedingly proud of. It’s made me stretch my worldbuilding wings, let me support a whole host of artists, develop my conlang skills, and bring in some of my favorite things from the franchise while also writing a story that I just really enjoy reading.

Favourite Story written: I probably have to stick with Chaos & Opportunity, because it’s given me the opportunity to work on so many unique and interesting things in the course of writing it.

Fic Nervous to post: LOL I’m always nervous when I post fic. My imposter syndrome game is strong. xD

How I choose titles: LABORIOUSLY. Most of the time it ends up being some part of a quote. If it’s a sappy chapter it’s probably from some obscure poem. There are a few that I was like “ahhh FUCK IT” and used the first thing that came to mind. The Very Dramatic Chapters are in Latin because I am not original. xD

Do I outline: I did once! Book 2 of Chaos & Opportunity was outlined, with my customary acerbic comments directly in the outline. Book 1 was really “lmao what happens next with these dinks?” and Book 3 is really “The Side Plot Bonanza,” so I haven’t needed it as much. For other multi chapter fics, I very rarely outline, ever.

Complete: Uhhh, yeahhhhhhh. Aside from one-shots, the only one that I’ve managed to finish thus far is Aberration, and that’s because it’s the only fic I had that had a definite beginning, middle, and end when I had the idea. Everything else is more like a meandering country road. xD

Coming soon?: I just published a chapter! xD But hopefully the next chapter isn’t TOO far behind. I’m really just bouncing all over the place lately.

In progress: lmao literally everything else.

Prompts: I love prompts! I’m slow as fuck at getting to them, but I do love them. Plus now we’re rolling into the holiday season and i LOVE holiday/winter prompts so so much.

Upcoming work: I did design a cover for my holiday novella, so I’m re-releasing that this December, and at some point I’m going to finish the romcom the holiday novella goes with. xD

(I dislike feeling like I’m pressuring people when I tag them, so if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged.)

#author interview #thanks for the tag!#swtor #writing

9 notes · View notes

helgabatwrittings · 4 years

Text

You and Me Against the World, M’lady

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25014643/chapters/60632809

Hi, I’m back!! And with a prompt for day 2: Stargazing, for @ladynoirjuly2020 .

As always, I want to tag @sassykittynoir , @miraculouslyinloveagain and @smileytrinity, you guys inspire me so much to write, I hope you like this! In fact, I hope everyone likes this xD! Let me know what you think!

***

Patrol was by far the highest moment in Adrien’s week. Both he and Ladybug were getting overwhelmed by the crazy amount of schoolwork, on top of Akuma attacks and their extracurricular activities, and so, and for Adrien’s misery, their nightly meetings had to be cut short to once a week. Nevertheless, Adrien would take the most out of it, every minute that he spent with his lady was precious, he couldn’t give himself the luxury of wasting them.

Today, however, he was exhausted! His tiredness could be explained by an accumulation of the last week’s increasing hours of modelling, photoshoots upon photoshoots constantly sneaking their way into his schedule, followed by an intense fencing training every morning before classes started in preparation for an upcoming tournament, the piano lessons that lasted for at least two hours, by his father insistence, the Akuma attacks that also didn’t give any of the heroes a break, and the lonesome meals were all taking a toll on him. Besides, today he couldn’t go to Marinette’s, she said she wouldn’t be home that night, she had a family event or something like that. He couldn’t exactly tell what plans she had for the night since she stumbled upon her words too much for a congruent phrase to be comprehended. It shouldn’t matter what she had planned anyway, she didn’t owe him an explanation, and yet, he was still bummed that he wouldn’t be seeing her.

Beep beep! He looked at the lit screen of his baton, noticing the text Ladybug had just sent him, “Good Evening, Chaton! I have a surprise for you! Come meet me at our spot! Bug out!” He smiled goofily. What had his lady prepared for him? She never failed to impress him.

Adrien vaulted through the rooftops, as fast as his exhausted body could go. He got to the Notre Dame tower where they usually started patrol, and there she was. In all her majestic glory, sitting on a towel, next to a large basket, which he suspected contained some delicious treats inside. She was gazing at the shining Parisian view, transfixed by its beauty, so she didn’t seem to notice his arrival. Adrien smirked.

Silently tiptoeing until he was right behind her, he crouched to her height stealthily, “Evening, M’lady!”, Adrien greeted her in a louder than normal tone, exactly the volume he knew would startle her.

As expected, Ladybug jumped, almost knocking her head on his chin, “CHAAAT! You scared me!!” Despite her annoyed voice tone, Adrien could see a slight smirk gracing her lips.

“Awww, buguinette, you looked so peaceful staring at the view, I didn’t want to disturb you!” He teased her, flicking one of her ponytails.

Ladybug lightly slapped his hand away from her hair, “Well, since you’ve decided to be such a brat tonight, I guess I have no other option but to take this picnic basket home!” She booped his nose and chuckled, “Guess I’ll have to feed these croissants to the stray cat that visits me every night!”

Adrien gasped dramatically at this new revelation, not only was she taking the croissants he loved away, but another cat was keeping her company?? “Noooo, Buguinette! I promise I’ll behave!” To prove his point, he sat on the chequered towel, his hands resting on his legs to keep them from bouncing in excitement.

“Well, since you promised!” She sat right next to him, stretching right over his lap to reach the basket that was just next to Adrien. His cheeks went immediately scarlet, and his heart must have doubled its rate. God, this girl had such an effect on him! She had him right on the palm of her hand, Ladybug would be the death of him. Let it be known, Adrien Agreste would die because Ladybug, Paris darling, would kill him with her beauty and angelical grace!

And the worst, the absolute worst, is that she knew exactly what she was doing! She could have asked him to grab the basket, but nooo… She really wanted to end him, uh? Hawkmoth was an amateur next to his lady. She was the real criminal mastermind in Paris for what she was doing to him.

“-at…”

God, could his face get any warmer? He swore his blood had been entirely deployed to it so that LB could see exactly what she had done to him.

“-hat…”

If his heart continued to pump at this rate, Adrien would have a heart attack, he was certain of it.

“CHAT!!” His attention immediately drifted to her. Ladybug was holding a pain au chocolat, her eyes had this sparkle Adrien was used to seeing when she was amused with something, although her face was trying to pull a blank expression. “Do you want this pain au chocolat or not?”

“What?” He asked in a daze.

“Hello! Earth to Chat Noir!!” Ladybug mocked him, lightly knocking on his head.

“I’m here!” He jumped, finally realising what Ladybug was offering to him. He could never say no to those heavenly sweets she brought from time to time. They were on par with the pastries Marinette offered him every time he visited, and those had no competition in Paris. He grabbed the pastry, while Ladybug took a croissant from the basket for herself.

She wasn’t exactly talkative, but neither was he. They ate the pastries in pleasant silence, although Adrien was still a bit confused about why they were skipping patrol to have a picnic.

“Uh… LB?” Her eyes were closed, a pleased smile was gracing her lips while she slowly chewed on her croissant.

“Yes, kitty?” His heart jumped a beat at hearing the affective nickname Ladybug sometimes used for him.

“Why are we doing this? I, I mean, not that I’m not loving to spend some quality time alone with you in this romantic setting.” He wiggled his eyebrows, flirting with Ladybug to mask his nervousness.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but my life is kind of chaotic right now, and Hawkmoth has not been going easy on us. I just thought we deserved a night off, that’s all.” Her bluebell eyes established contact with his own, and his brain immediately turned into a jumbled mess. Seriously… How could he have any rational thought when his lady looked at him with that gentle expression of hers. Was she even aware of the power she had on him? How, with only a simple look, could she freeze his entire being and capture his heart to be forever hers? Some of Hawkmoth’s Akumas must have taken refuge in his belly, he could feel them inside as Adrien kept watching Ladybug in all her grace munching on her croissant. He knew that if he stood in front of a mirror at that moment, his face would be the same colour as his lady’s suit.

He needed to distract himself with something else, otherwise, his brain would start to make up these crazy scenarios and he wouldn’t be able to deal with them, especially not in front of Ladybug. Damn those teenage hormones!

Adrien looked up to the clear night sky, gazing at the stars above them. Physics was always a passion of his, especially Astronomy. He remembered spending countless nights alone in his room, back when he only had Chloé in his life, gazing through his floor-to-ceiling windows. He owned several stars charts, and his mum had also gifted him a next-gen telescope so he could further feed his passion. He had learned all the constellations, and it was those that had kept him company and helped him stay grounded when he was going through the painful grief his mum’s disappearance had brought upon his life.

“What are you looking at?” Ladybug looked down at him. When had he lied down on that rooftop? Adrien was so distracted gazing up at the sky, that he hadn’t noticed the change of position he had adopted. The fact was that he was currently lying on his back. And his Lady had asked him a question. “I’m only looking at the stars… They look so pretty, tonight. Almost as pretty as you, m’lady!” He chuckled.

“Silly kitty! And here I thought you were finally thinking of something smart for a change.” She teased him, and Adrien put a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically while a pleasant warmth spread through his chest.

“Seriously Chat! You are awfully distracted today. Something wrong?”

Adrien shrugged, “Nothing’s wrong, Buguinette. Don’t worry. I guess I’m just more tired than usual tonight.” His eyes drifted to her face, and his heart missed another beat. Maybe Adrien should ask his father if he could see a doctor, these many palpitations were definitely not normal.

Ladybug lied on her back, her body turned in the opposite direction to his, with her head right next to his shoulder, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her, and that was enough for his brain to lose any kind of logical thoughts once again.

He avoided turning his head towards her, Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her lips if he did so.

He heard her huff, “I swear, no matter how many times I read about constellations, I can never identify them. Like, for example, I know that “W” is one, but I don’t know which one!” She pointed, and Adrien followed her gloved finger.

“That’s Cassiopeia, M’lady.” He chuckled.

“Cassiopeia? What even is that?” Ladybug asked dramatically indignant. Adrien loved how full of life she always was.

“Cassiopeia was Andromeda’s mother, and incredibly arrogant and vain. This led to her downfall when she made Poseidon become irate, and the only solution for it was to sacrifice her own daughter, which was later saved by Perseus. Poseidon still thought that Cassiopeia deserved to be punished so he turned her into a constellation.” He explained.

“Wow, Chat! How do you even know that?” Ladybug looked at him and Adrien could feel her breath on his chin.

“I love astronomy. Feels like it was ages ago since the last time I looked at the stars though.” He stated simply as an image of a green-eyed blonde woman appeared in his head.

“It’s so sad that her daughter almost paid for her arrogance…” He heard her voice quivering with emotion. Adrien turned his head toward his lady. Their lips were so incredibly close to each other, it would be so easy to capture them with his own. But he would never do that. He would never take that step, not without her permission.

Ladybug looked stunning lying on that rooftop. The moonlight gave her this ethereal shine and accentuated the blue highlights of her hair. Her cerulean eyes were piercing his soul, they were so close to each other that he could discern all the different blue tones in them. He could count all the freckles adorning her face, and he swore he saw a subtle red hue spreading on her cheeks. He had stopped breathing. Adrien could no longer feel the chill of the night, only the heat radiating from her skin and breath which ironically made his hair stand on end.

Adrien needed to break their eye contact, or else he didn’t think he would survive, he needed to start breathing again anytime soon, right? Her eyes, however, had trapped him in a hypnotic spell which Adrien was certain he couldn’t escape from, and also, he didn’t want to end this moment so soon.

His heart constricted as he was the first one to look away. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Ladybug liked another boy, and he should respect that. But the way she was looking at him, could it be? Could she possibly care for him as more than a friend? She was a puzzle in his life, one he couldn’t solve no matter how hard he tried. He shook his head trying to get rid of these thoughts. His Lady wasn’t really his, she liked another boy. Besides, he was already dating Kagami. And Marinette? Marinette was a whole other mystery for him. Wait, why did he suddenly start to think of Marinette? Plagg was right, love was way too complicated.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladynoirjuly2020

25 notes · View notes

monkeydra · 4 years

Note

Heeereee comes some prompts~! :D For the AU-list: Blind Date AU for Ichigo/Chad; Bodyguard AU for Grimmjow/Urahara/Yoruichi; Dragon AU for Hardison/Parker/Eliot; Roll Reversal AU for Wei Ying/Lan Zhan; Royalty AU for Lan Xichen/Wen Ning; Paranormal Investigator AU for Evie/Rick/Ardeth....aaaand I'll stop there XD Feel free to ignore some or all of these, of course! ;D

Sorry this took approximately forever! Hope you like them XD

I tried the leverage ot3 prompt but I really struggle with zoomorphism it seems, sorry :(

Ichigo/Chad - Blind Date AU

“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this,” Ichigo groaned, hiding his face in his hands, his usual furrow between his brows. Chad allowed himself a small moment of disappointment before reaching for Ichigo’s hands and tugging them down from his face. When Ichigo met his eyes, he smiled at him, fondly as always and Ichigo responded with his own small and precious smile.

“Do you still want to go in?” he asked, tilting his head towards the restaurant.

“You don’t have to,” Ichigo replied, looking sheepish again. “Rukia’s just. She’s trying to help.” Chad nodded, guiding Ichigo away from the entrance with a hand on his lower back. Ichigo didn’t like being inside when he felt agitated. He leaned into the touch and walked with him, his shoulder’s loosening. “It’s good to see you,” he said after they were down the street from the restaurant, beaming at him, eyes warm. Chad nodded in agreement, and Ichigo bumped him with his shoulder.

“How’s your family?”

“Dad’s as annoying as always,” he started with a roll of his eyes, “but Yuzu and Karin are in their last year of high school.” He brightened completely at the mention of his sisters. “They’re third and fourth in their class. Karin has been taking karate lessons from Tatsuki and Yuzu started a cooking channel on youtube.” Chad hummed to show he was still listening, pulling him a little closer when the crowd got denser. Ichigo’s hand came up and curled in the back of his shirt, leaning his head on Chad’s shoulder in an affectionate bump.

“How’s studying to be a teacher?”

“Good. I get to assist in a classroom next semester.”

“What year?” he asked, his smile and eyes soft and warm around the edges now, shifting a little closer himself this time.

“Second.”

“They’re gonna love you,” Ichigo declared.

“Thank you,” he murmured, pleased, and looked down at Ichigo again, now tucked under his arm. He was always so tactile, and he was only too happy to oblige. They fell into an easy silence, the crowds thinning again as the dinner rush came into full swing. Ichigo shivered at Chad’s side as the sky darkened, and Chad rubbed his hand over Ichigo’s arm.

“How did Rukia get you here anyway?”

“She told me I would be going on a date with you.”

Ichigo froze, and Chad stopped with him. He hadn’t stepped away, which Chad supposed was a good sign.

“You knew the date was with me?”

“Of course.”

Ichigo whirled out of his arms and kept Chad where he was with his hands on Chad’s shoulders.

“Can we start the date over?”

Chad tilted his head in confusion, but nodded, adding “If that’s what you want.” If Ichigo’s grins were bright before, it was blinding right now as he nodded. Once more, Chad couldn’t help but smile back. Ichigo wrapped his arm around Chad’s waist and nudged Chad with his shoulder in the short amount of time it took Chad to wrap an arm around him again, and they headed back to the restaurant.

Grimmjow/Urahara/Yoruichi - Bodyguard AU

Grimmjow clenched his teeth and nodded at Yoruichi.

“Okay, on three. One,” she started, and then wrenched his shoulder back into place. Grimmjow hissed and glared at her, but she just grinned back. “Good as new,” she said even as she poked at his shoulder.

“What are you doing then?” He kept his tone bored and Yoruichi pretended not to notice the strain in his voice, reminding him why they made such a good team.

“Feeling you up.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. She grabbed his arm and moved it up, to the side, back down, up again.

“Everything feel okay?”

“A little stiff, but it should be fine.”

“How do you know he’s not lying?” Urahara asked, voice filled with a forced levity neither of them called him out on. They also ignored his tightly crossed arms.

“He doesn’t lie on a job.”

“He can hear you,” he grumbled, stretching his arm out.

“He also gets grouchy when he doesn’t get to finish a fight.”

“Why start a fight if you’re just gonna run away?” he exclaimed. “And for fuck’s sake get over here,” he snapped. Urahara jumped, covering his shocked expression with the same appeasing, bland smile. Yoruichi leaned back until she was reclining on her arms, amusement radiating from every inch of her. Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow at Urahara, and evidently he was too curious to resist.

“What is it?” he asked once he was standing over them.

“Sit down, I don’t need a sore neck on top of everything else.”

Urahara made to sit and did not yelp when Grimmjow shoved him so he landed next to Yoruichi instead.

“You’re supposed to be protecting me, not injuring me!” he cried, whirling to look at Grimmjow on his other side.

“Try that on someone who actually believes your hopeless nerdy scientist routine,” Yoruichi drawled, sitting up again, her own smile unaffected even as Urahara’s froze on his face.

“That’s not the secret we’re tackling today,” Grimmjow said with a dismissive wave.

“I think you both know I’m too boring to have secrets,” he stammered. They both leveled him with looks so icily unimpressed that he almost hung his head in shame. Knowing them, they were less irritated by the lie and more how shoddy it was.

“Anyway, how much more do we have to flirt before you finally ask us out?” Yoruichi asked. “We’re both running out of excuses to lose our shirts.”

“And shirts,” Grimmjow added, shrugging his bare shoulder where his tank top strap should have been. Urahara’s mouth opened and closed helplessly, for once completely clueless on how to respond.

“Would you like to go on a date?” he asked finally, figuring that was a good place to start. They both grinned and leaned closer, twin yeses wafting warm over his ear and neck. “How did the conversation get here?” he asked.

Yoruichi shrugged and said, “We decided a few days ago to give you one more week to figure it out. If you didn’t then we’d give you a nudge.”

Wei Ying/Lan Zhan - Role Reversal AU

He traded the pristine whites and soft blues of his robes for something more functional, staked out a camp in the swirling miasma of resentful energy and mountains of death, and even then Lan Zhan still looked like untouchable jade. Wei Ying was tempted to ask what his secret was, but he suspected it was simply how stunningly beautiful he was.

“Let me carry you back,” he blurted out instead. Lan Zhan’s rosy lips parted, dark eyes widening just slightly before his expression shuttered again.

“No need.” He moved around Wei Ying and continued walking to the burial mounds, carefully stiff to hide the limp and broken ribs. Wei Ying ran so he was in front of him again.

“I can help with Wen Ning, and Wen Qing will have my head if she finds out I let you hike up a mountain like this.”

“Wei Ying isn’t letting me do anything,” he said, but before he could move around him again, Wei Ying laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Lan Zhan please. Let me help you,” he said, echoing Lan Zhan’s own plea. Lan Zhan stopped, his icy mask faltering just enough for Wei Ying to see the uncertainty, the exhaustion, the pain. Lan Zhan had always been so softly, blessedly human. He nodded, and Wei Ying beamed at him. He turned and crouched down so Lan Zhan could climb onto his back. It was the fastest way to get him back to Wen Qing, and there was less of a risk of Lan Zhan reaching a meridian by accident and feeling his missing golden core. He felt warmth at his back before Lan Zhan’s weight on him, and waited until his arms were around his shoulders, Bichen dangling in front of them both, before standing. Lan Zhan’s arms tightened around him in surprise, but he was otherwise quiet and still.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan! We’ll be back at the burial mounds in no time, and between the two of us we can definitely restore Wen Ning’s consciousness.”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying smiled to himself at the instant agreement.

“And Wen Qing will have you fixed up in no time. Does she bully you with her needles too?”

“Wen Qing doesn’t bully me.”

“Ah, you would say that Lan Zhan. You’re so patient with everyone. I used to think you were a stick in the mud until I got to know you better,” he said, ignoring the hitch—likely from pain—in Lan Zhan’s breath. “You’re actually a really good guy.” Lan Zhan’s arms tightened around his shoulders briefly and loosened again. “You can hold on tighter if you want, Lan Zhan. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you spoiled A-Yuan. Is it that you like cute things? I remember you like rabbits.” Lan Zhan’s arms tightened a little around his shoulders, and slowly the last of his weight leaned on him, his silken cheek pressed to Wei Ying’s.

“Wei Ying does not have to carry me all the way up.”

“I’ll do it anyway. You shouldn’t be walking on a broken leg Lan Zhan, and Wen Qing might not bully you but she’d definitely pick on me.” He shifted him carefully to secure his grip on him. “Now hold on tight Lan Zhan. This path is a little steep and I wouldn’t want to drop such precious cargo.”

Lan Zhan’s breath hitched again, and Wei Ying made a note to be even more careful about his grip on his injured leg.

Lan Xichen/Wen Ning - Royalty AU

Wen Ning remembers his first impression of Lan Xichen: gentle smile and impeccable manners. He remembers the overwhelming feeling of relief that his betrothed seems kind—not that his sister would have allowed otherwise. Even if his fiancée didn’t love him, maybe they could still be friends, he hoped.

Wen Ning supposes that impression still holds even now.

A pretty flush started on Lan Xichen’s ears and spread to those high cheekbones, his sweet smile even wider than normal, his crown and ribbon slightly askew on his head.

“Wen-gongzi!!!” he cried, standing quickly in what would have been a scramble if Lan Xichen were any less graceful. Wei Wuxian hid a laugh behind his drink, his own husband staring dazedly at him at his side. “Didi look!!!” Lan Xichen said to Lan Wangji, prompting him to look away from Wei Wuxian and to his older brother. “My fiancée is here!!!”

Wen Ning felt his face flame even as something unfurled in his chest at hearing Lan Xichen sound so happy to see him. Still, he was here for a reason.

“W-Wei-gongzi, why did you c-call me?”

“I do remember giving you permission to call me Wei Ying,” he replied with a playful grin.

Lan Xichen took his hands in his before Wen Ning could muster a reply.

“I asked him to,” he said earnestly, squeezing his hands. “I have a very important question.” Wen Ning found himself standing straighter at the serious look on his face, nodding in response.

“Of c-course, Lan-gongzi.”

“This is important,” he said again, nodding gravely. “May I call you A-Ning?”

“W-what?!”

“May I call you A-Ning?” he repeated patiently, that wide, beautiful smile still on his face.

“Y-You can call m-me whatever you w-want, Lan-gongzi.”

To his confusion, Lan Xichen vehemently shook his head.

“Only if it’s alright with you,” he declared. “And may I hug you?” he added. “I like you so much!!!” Lan Xichen looked so happy, so hopeful. Wen Ning felt the all his blood rush to his head.

“Y-you c-can,” he finally whispered, voice hoarse. “T-to b-both, I w-want you t-to.” He found he truly meant it, too, his stuttering getting worse with just how much he wants it, how much his nervousness was choking him. Lan Xichen’s arms were around him in an instant, sweeping him in so he was completely pressed to his warm, firm body, his face tucked into the crook of his neck. Lan Xichen’s chin rested on the top of his head as he swayed them back and forth, and Wen Ning worked his arms out from between them to hug him back.

“I can’t wait for the courting period, A-Ning,” he said, only a little quieter than before. “I’m going to spoil you! So much!” Wen Ning buried his face deeper. He swallowed and took a deep breath, like his sister taught him, and pulled away enough to look up at him.

“T-Thank you, A-Huan,” he whispered. Lan Xichen gasped and beamed down at him, squeezing him impossibly closer.

“I like you so much, A-Ning!!!”

Then all his weight dropped onto Wen Ning.

He caught him, looking at Wei Wuxian when the man laughed.

“He’s asleep,” he reassured in between giggles, wiping at his eyes. Still, there was something soft and delighted in his expression, enough to reassure Wen Ning this wasn’t a joke of some kind.

“W-what should I d-do?”

“If we wait a little while, he’ll sober up.” He took another sip of his drink, and Wen Ning only now noticed Lan Zhan asleep on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “Sit with me, and bring him with you. I’m sure he’d like waking up with his head in your lap.” Wen Ning hid behind Lan Xichen again, sure his face matched his robes. Still, he half carried, half dragged him to the table, carefully easing them down until they both sat and, after a moment of self-conscious hesitation, pushed Lan Xichen’s legs further out and guided his head to his lap.

Wei Ying met his eyes across the table, undeniably pleased. He pushed a cup to him, already filled with wine, but Wen Ning shook his head.

“N-no thank y-you, Wei-g--” he stopped, deciding to take another risk tonight. “W-Wei Y-Ying.” Wei Ying grinned. They sat in companionable silence until Wei Ying set his cup down with a quiet, definitive clack.

“He meant every word you know.”

Wen Ning nodded.

“He w-wouldn’t lie,” he agreed softly. Wei Ying stared at him for a moment, oddly serious, before the grin was back on his face.

“As long as you know that.” He took another sip of his drink. “Also, you might want to brace yourself for the courting period.” Wen Ning cocked his head to the side, a silent question. Wei Ying’s grin was a little frightening this time around in its blatant amusement, clearly at Wen Ning’s expense this time. “The Lans don’t half ass wooing.”

Wen Ning felt his cheeks warm again.

Evie/Rick/Ardeth - Paranormal Investigator AU

Sorry this one is so short! I couldn’t think of much for it unfortunately

“Evie, darling,” Rick said with a stare that spoke of being completely desensitized to this very situation, “please step out of the pentagram.”

“Oh!” She looked around and realized she was indeed standing in the middle of the pentagram, painted on the floor in a red liquid that Rick refused to contemplate the origins of. “Well, at least we know we’re going in the right direction. This was in my vision.” She still hadn’t stepped out of the pentagram, but before Rick could point that out again Ardeth walked by and took her hand, gently tugging her out of it. Evie swung the flashlight around again, distracted, as Rick and Ardeth shared a fond grin.

“See any ghosts so far?” Rick asked.

“No. I can’t sense any either.”

“So is this place haunted or just creepy?”

“Too soon to tell,” Evie replied, looking closely at the walls for any distinctive features. Ardeth looked to the side and ran his hand along the markings, neither of them noticing the pipe Rick willed away from their heads.

#chadichi #urayorugrimm #wangxian #xining #rickevieardeth #my fic #nonesane

11 notes · View notes

halehavetogosometime · 4 years

Text

omo shipping meme: witcher

Any of y’all kinky bastards into the Witcher yet?

If you’ve wandered here from elsewhere: here be Omorashi. That’s kink to do with pee, folks.

This is an interesting meme to do in this fandom, since it’s not anything close to a contemporary time period. Some stuff didn’t seem to apply at all, so I modified/removed prompts as seemed appropriate.

So here’s my take for Geralt and Jaskier:

--- Who wets because they didn’t want to get up from a video game/computer/work or other activity?

Obvs no video games, but I can see plenty of situations where Jaskier gets, like, super involved in composition, maybe... or, better, is performing someplace, for important folks mebbe, and has some close calls because the banquet goes on so long without a break or whatever. But I would think the hit to his reputation from wetting himself while in the spotlight would be much greater than insisting the musicians get a break, so i wouldn’t think there’d be many actual accidents.

Geralt, however, has definitely pissed himself in the course of a fight/his work and gives 0 fucks about that. it’s not even harder to clean off his clothes/leathers/etc than monster guts, so what the fuck ever.

--- Who insists they can hold it even when they can’t?

Def Jaskier. Like, I can see a scenario where Geralt would do this playfully if they were doing a hold for fun or as part of a sex game or smth. But genuinely? Jaskier is more likely.

though I also accept the take that Jaskier is obnoxious as hell when he needs to pee but can’t right then, and would never put himself through the pain of prolonging the torture, insisting he was chill when he was actually uncomfortable... and yeah, I can see acerbic Geralt in a situ, maybe at some kind of feast or ball where he can’t just rudely walk away, for fear of reflecting poorly on Jaskier, and he’s no notion how to get away without being rude, so he’s just... he’s fine. he’ll be fine. he can hold forever-- it’ll be fine.

fuk.

--- Who pees in a bottle because they didn’t want to leave their warm bed at night?

I mean, is that not what a chamber pot is? And this is the era of chamber pots. And they both have dicks. I can see somebody making an argument for Geralt, with his canonically advanced sense of smell, preferring not to have waste just sitting around where he’s gonna sleep... but honestly, urine can’t smell worse than monster guts, so, again, I doubt he gives a fuck.

--- Who doesn’t pay attention to their fluid intake?

Jaskier probs. I would think that Geralt is usually hyper-aware of whether or not his body is in optimum condition. When it’s your primary tool/weapon, and you could be in a fight for your life at literally any time... it’d have to be some kind of extenuating circumstance to catch Geralt off guard.

But I can see Jaskier, high on good fun/food/company/wine being caught by surprise as he suddenly is quite full, out of nowhere.

--- Who has the larger bladder?

Geralt for almost certain. Like, Jaskier is a performer and traveler, probs used to good long stretches without prime opportunity for relief, he’s probs no slouch... but Geralt is literally a mutant bred to be physically superior.

--- Who is more likely to have a shy bladder?

Neither, both too pragmatic and comfortable in their own skins, probs. But I could see arguments for either, if an author wanted to go there.

I can see an argument for Jaskier, just because he can be a nervy little dude sometimes, so is the one more likely to experience the kind of anxiety that might cause such a thing (and he’s the one who insists it was unfair of somebody to kill that knight dude while he was “relieving his bowels, is nothing sacred anymore???” XD), perhaps especially while out on the road with Gerlat, where every stray noise in the underbrush might be a monster ready to bite his dick off or something.

And I can see an argument for a hyper vigilant Geralt, who struggles with getting comfortable/secure enough to take a piss, knowing he was uniquely vulnerable during such a time, and working so hard, so often, to NOT be vulnerable to all the shit that would gladly see him dead.

(I can also see a scenario for either one where they struggled with paruresis as a young person, and overcame it, and are caught by unfortunate surprise when it comes back, later in life, for no good/apparent reason)

--- Who will only use an appropriate facility?

Again, the time of chamber pots, I bet most folks have a real loose definition of what constitutes an appropriate facility. One could make an argument for Jasier, city person that he is, vastly preferring designated facilities... but again, he travels, and there are only bushes for “rest stops” between towns, so if he ever felt that way, he’s probs long since gotten over it.

I could actually see an argument for Geralt the other direction. like, he is mostly comfortable pissing in the woods, and actually finds it uncomfortable to do suck things indoors at all... or maybe just really dislikes the smell.

--- Who is more likely to have a holding kink?

Jaskier strikes me as the kinkier mf. like, I can totes see omo as a thing he’s low-key a bit into, like, he kinda digs being forced to hold during a performance, and then once they’re on the road together, he’s gotta play his interests real cool. but once he and Geralt are fucking, then I def can see him bringing it up, either trying to get Geralt to kind of dom him a bit and make him wait, or, shit, maybe getting Geralt to agree to wait.

I can see Geralt that way too, though. like, he spends a lot of time real focused on the state of his body, yeah? so I can see him approaching omo as, like, a way to challenge himself. like, “I can’t control the chaos, but I can control myself”, etc. in that scenario, once Jaskier works out that it’s, like, a sexy thing for Geralt, I put Jaskier 110% down to experiment/play with that.

--- Who challenges the other to holding contests?

In the same vein as above, it seems like the kind of contrary, kinky shit Jaskier would do. But also Jaskier would have to know that Geralt was likely to beat him. so Either Jaskier finds the who situ hot enough to be worth the loss...

Or it’d be Geralt. Not explicitly phrasing it as a contest, but more goading Jakier into it subtly.

--- How would each react to having an accident?

I think Geralt, as mentioned above, really wouldn’t care. Were it to happen in a way that inconvenienced Jaskier or someone, or happen at a ball/feast/party etc mebbe he’d be a bit shamefaced, but in general, that will not be the grossest thing to happen to him this week, so I don’t think he cares much.

I think Jaskier, vain hedonist that he is, is more likely to be genuinely embarrassed or humiliated, and probably play it off with humor.

But in most situ, they’ve got bigger stuff to worry about, and hygiene at this point in “history” is low enough, (and their professions, I cannot state enough, involve being in close proximity to animals/wildlife/monsterguts), I don’t think it’s the sort of thing that would ruin either of their days for very long.

--- How would each react to the other being desperate/having an accident?

I think Geralt would find Jaksier in that position a bit funny or obnoxious based on the situation (and whether he had a kink), but likely would do his best to help him eventually, as he does with most things. (unless it was Jaskier being stubborn/prideful/arguing with Geralt that led to the situ, in which case Geralt would probs be quite happy to let the sucker piss himself, and serve him right).

Roles reversed, I think Jaskier’s first response would be surprise/incredulity to see the Witcher that far out of control. he’s quite protective of Geralt in his turn, however, so again, depending on the situ, he’d be helpful, likely.

--- Who is more likely to wet because of anxiety/fear?

Jaskier, 100%. I’m not sure Geralt experiences fear intensely enough most of the time to get to that point.

--- Who is more likely to wet deliberately?

Jaskier, if part of some kinky game, I think. Geralt in a fight/if it serves some purpose.

#omorashi #omo shipping meme #the witcher #geraskier

17 notes · View notes

kumeko · 4 years

Photo

Title: highly improper

A/N: For scientias for the FFXV Secret Santa! I saw the Merlin AU prompt and this just jumped from my hands! XD I didn’t expect to write this much! Originally I was going to put Luna in too but I couldn’t make her fit.

…

Ignis stood on his tippy toes, his arms hanging onto the crib bars tightly as he peered down at the baby sleeping inside. Deep asleep, the baby lay flat on his back, his limbs splayed as he dreamt. Wisps of black hair crowned his head and Ignis tried to imagine the King’s golden crown on this tiny head.

“Watching the baby again, Ignis?” King Regis softly stepped inside, quietly approaching them. His footsteps were muffled on the plush carpet. Looking down in the crib, he pulled the blanket tighter around the little prince with a smile. “Finally asleep, I see.”

“He stopped crying an hour ago,” Ignis dutifully reported, untangling his arms. He quickly bowed to the king. “Sire.”

“I see.” The king’s brow knit, his expression darkening slightly. “He’ll need all the rest he can get. His destiny is a heavy one. The gods have tasked him with saving our kingdom, our world.”

Ignis’s eyes widened. Noctis’s hands could barely wrap around Ignis’s finger, and they were expected to not only rule a kingdom, but also save the world? “Really?”

“Really.” Regis crouched down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “When that times comes, he’ll need a companion. Will you be there for him?”

“Of course,” Ignis chirped, no doubts in his mind. If he could help his father, help his king, help the prince, he’d do in a heartbeat. He glanced at the prince between the bars, at his chubby red cheeks and tiny fists.

Noctis would save the world one day.

Ignis just had to make sure he got there.

ii.

“Your highness, it’s morning,” Ignis announced, entering Noctis’s chambers. He closed the heavy wooden door behind him when it was apparent that the prince hadn’t awoken yet. As usual. There were many ways to describe Noctis but an early riser was not one of them. Clicking his tongue, Ignis drew open the thick curtains, flooding the room with the bright morning light. “Wake up.”

Noctis groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

“Zero more minutes,” Ignis corrected, rubbing his forehead tiredly. They played this game every day and he didn’t know who the bigger fool was—Noctis for thinking it’d work, or Ignis for expecting him to change. “You have jousting and sword practice this morning, before we take a tour of the guards. You barely have time for breakfast, let alone sleeping in.”

“One more minute,” Noctis recanted, as though that made much of a difference. The blankets tangled around his legs as he burrowed deeper into his pillows.

“Zero means zero, your highness.” With a sigh, Ignis stepped forward and yanked the bedsheets off. The usual pattern it was, then.

Noctis shivered as the chilly air hit him. “It’s so cold!” Languidly, he stretched his arms above his head as he slowly sat up. “Do I issue the orders or you?” he complained, his tone belligerent.

“I am waking you up,” Ignis pointed out, rolling his eyes as he opened Noctis’s drawers. Selecting a fine woolen tunic and matching pants, he laid them down on the bed. “You slept a good two hours longer than I did, sire.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Noctis sighed, balefully glaring up at him.

“Sire, if you continue to look at me like that, I will call Prompto to wake you up. Or maybe Gladiolus would do?” Ignis crossed his arms, raising his brow. In this room, in the familiarity of their years, he could get away with little challenges like this.

“No, no, I’m good.” Noctis sat up immediately, giving up the jig. Ignis wasn’t sure which of the two scared Noctis more—Prompto’s overenthusiasm or Gladiolus no-nonsense attitude. He slipped off the bed, his hands on his back as he stretched backwards until a soft crack was heard. “So, what’d you say was first? Jousting?”

“Yes, you’ve missed the last two practices so Gladiolus will be a little…aggressive,” Ignis explained.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Noctis winced, spreading his arms out.

“Very lightly,” Ignis agreed, taking a deep breath before he pulled off Noctis’s shirt. He could do this. He could—the sight of Noctis’s chest, his pale skin bathed in the sunlight, made his mouth go dry. His heart beat so hard, he wasn’t sure how Noctis couldn’t hear it. Swallowing, he turned away as he folded Noctis’s shirt. It was okay, he just had to put the new shirt on. He had this.

“I’m going to get so bruised.” Noctis shuddered. “Make sure the creams are ready, I’m going to need them.”

“Y-yes.” He could feel his smile strain. Creams meant rubbing them on meant touching Noctis—

This had been so much easier when they were children.

iii.

“HIYAAAH,” Gladiolus roared, his mount charging down the field like an angry boar. His horse was already a monster at eighteen hands. With Gladiolus’s bulk added on top of it, it was like watching a titan attack a fly.

A fly that also happened to be the prince.

Noctis swung his lance but it was too late. He grunted as he took the full brunt of the attack, falling hard onto the ground.

“Your Highness!” Ignis ran up the field. They were wearing armour and the lances were wood, but either way that had to hurt. Crouching next to Noctis, he quickly helped his liege into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

“No,” grunted Noctis, a scowl on his face as he yanked off his helmet. He glared at Gladiolus. “You could go a little easier, you know.”

“Then you would never learn, your highness,” Gladiolus answered cockily, and perhaps it was a good thing they had all known each other since childhood. Any other noble would have had his head for the way he acted. “Now, get back on your horse.”

��“So you can murder me?” grumbled Noctis. Despite his frown, he slowly pushed himself off the ground.

“Wait!” Ignis grabbed one of Noctis’s arms. “Are you sure you want do this? You could be hurt. You might already be hurt. Maybe we should check with—”

“Worrywart.” Noctis’s frown melted into an exasperated smile and he shook his head. “This happens every day, you don’t need to be so worried all the time. Nothing’s broken, just a few bruises. I wish he’d hold back a little.”

“Me too,” Ignis muttered, biting his lip. Worry welled within nonetheless, a fear that Noctis’s smile couldn’t erase.

Noctis smirked over his shoulder at his knight. “Besides, we can’t keep Gladdy waiting.”

Astride his horse, Gladiolus lifted his visor. Even from here, Ignis felt a shiver run up his spine from the cold look he shot them. “You’ve been spending time with Iris.”

“...it is better to deny that,” Ignis whispered.

“It’s not like he can kill me,” Noctis retorted quietly.

He shook his head. “There are some things worse than death.”

iv.

“Again?” Cindy lifted the heavy plates of armour with ease, giving a low whistle as she inspected the dents and cracks. She frowned as her finger traced a particularly ragged line, a frown that grew deeper as she realized just how much damage Noctis’s armour had gone through. Poking her head over it, she glared at Ignis. “Really? Do you know how much work I put in this?”

“I do, and I am sorry again that we have to take so much of your time.” Ignis rubbed his neck awkwardly, feeling flustered under her angry gaze. No matter how many times he’d faced it, it never got easier, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that her grandpa had retired, leaving the castle smithy to her. At least there was one less glare at him.

“I just repaired it two days ago!” She set the armour down on her work bench. Crossing her arms, she turned back to him. “What’re you doing, beating it with a hammer? Fighting in a war? I’ll have you know none of the other guards, knights, or nobles give me half as much trouble as the prince.”

Because none of them are trained by Gladiolus, Ignis almost retorted. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and offered a sympathetic smile. “Your work is exceptional, which is why the prince knows he can trust this matter to you.”

“The prince knows I can’t refuse, otherwise I would have stopped taking any work from him.” Cindy sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know why I try with his things, I just know it’ll get destroyed.”

Sensing her crack, Ignis walked next to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Your work is exemplary and should be the example for any blacksmith.”

“Yeah, yeah, just buttering me up.” She grinned anyways. Grabbing a pair of ash-covered gloves, she glanced at Ignis. “Do you give this sweet talk to the prince too?”

Ignis replied with an elegant, “Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t have eyes?” Cindy snorted, pulling out her hammers as she set up her work bench. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How he looks at you.”

“Why I never!” Ignis protested, his cheeks burning at the insinuation. The absolutely false, definitely not true accusation.

Cindy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t—”

“I definitely haven’t,” Ignis confirmed quickly, wanting to squash this idea before it found purchase. And definitely before anyone else heard it.

“I see.” She grinned impishly and he had seen that expression on Prompto’s face too many times before to know where this was going. He should never have introduced her to the stable boy. “Well, if you say so.”

Sensing a trap, he scrutinized her warily. “I do.”

“Well, he is a prince after all.” She shrugged, still smiling slyly. “It’d be improper to act rashly.”

“It’d be improper, period,” Ignis corrected her firmly.

“Which is why you’re waiting for the perfect, romantic moment,” Cindy continued, not hearing him at all.

“I’m not!” Ignis growled.

Cindy laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

Noctis glanced over his shoulder, his hands loose on the reins of his steed. “It’s strange. I keep expecting to see someone behind us.”

Ignis looked over his shoulder as well. Behind them, the forest path was completely empty for once. There were no signs of the usual guards, no cloaked knights on vigilant alert as they sat tall on their horses. It even sounded quieter than normal, without the extra whickers from other horses. “Me too, your highness. Though we are still within the castle’s forest, so it should be safe enough here.”

“No, that’s not what I…” Noctis ran a hand through his hair, before giving a shy smile. “I just meant, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. Without actually having to worry about work or lessons or anything.”

“Oh.” Ignis flushed lightly as he realised that they were alone. Truly alone. No servants in the next room, no guards in the shadows, nothing. Not even the prying eyes of villagers. “You’re right, it has been a while. Not since we were children, I believe, your highness.”

“Forever, basically. And, just call me Noctis.” When Ignis opened his mouth to protest, Noctis shook his head. “It’s fine, we’re alone.”

That didn’t make it fine, not in the least. They were still prince and attendant, still divided by an invisible barrier that remained in place no matter who was there. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from uttering, “Noctis.”

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled whole-heartedly, his eyes crinkling just so, and Ignis stared, transfixed. “Just like that. I kinda miss when we were kids—you used to be less formal.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Slightly less formal.”

“A problem I have thoroughly corrected,” Ignis finally replied, regaining his voice. His heart was in his throat and it was hard to keep his voice calm, to keep himself collected. He forced his eyes way and stare at the path ahead instead. At least his mount kept a steady pace, trotting along without any realizations of the issues his rider was having.

“It wasn’t a problem. I liked it better that way.” Noctis leaned back slightly, staring up at trees. His bangs covered his eyes and his next words were careful. “We were…closer then.”

Ignis peeked at him from the corner of his eyes, unable to read his liege’s expression. “We grew up, as children are wont to do.”

“I guess.” Noctis looked down at his hands for a long moment. The only sound was the steady clip-clop of their horses as they traversed the dirt path. A deep breath and he stood up straight, his jaw set. Pulling his horse to a stop, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Pressing his right leg, Ignis guided his horse to turn around and ride back to Noctis. Stopping next to him, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“This. All of this.” Noctis shook his head once more. “We…we don’t have to grow apart.” As he spoke, his hand reached out, his fingers almost brushing Ignis’s hand. “I don’t want that, I want us to—”

It had been easier, when they were children. When Ignis could touch and be touched by Noctis and think nothing of it. When he could watch Noctis get hurt and think only of his improvement, when he could spend long hours helping with paperwork and not feel the small gap between their shoulders as though it were a physical presence.

But they weren’t children, not anymore, and Ignis could only see the possibilities in that potential touch, the torrent of words within him just waiting to pour out. His heart was in his throat, full and ready to speak, but he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

It was almost reflexive, his flinch. His draw back. Ignis pulled away, just out of reach.

Noctis stared at him, shocked. His eyes widened, hurt crossing his face, his fingers still hovering where Ignis’s used to be.

Immediately, Ignis realized he’d made the wrong move. “Noctis…”

“Fine.” Noctis’s fingers curled into a fist, his brow narrowed. With a click of his tongue, he urged his horse into a gallop, leaving Ignis behind in the dust.

vii.

“So this is where you’re sulking!” Pitchfork hanging off his shoulder, Prompto entered the box stall. The door closed behind with a click and he cocked his head. “I think the prince’s horse is all cleaned now.”

“I’m not sulking,” Ignis retorted, barely sparing the brazen interloper a glance before returning to Noctis’s black stallion, Regalia. A brush in hand, he firmly stroked the mount’s side. “And I need to just finish checking his hooves.”

“I swear you go overboard on everything.” Prompto rolled his eyes, setting his pitchfork on the ground. He crossed his arms over the handle and rested his chin on his arms. “And you are totally sulking.”

“I’m not,” Ignis snapped back, shooting him a dirty glare. “Don’t you have more important matters to attend? Your job? These stables are in need of cleaning.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me.” Prompto pouted, his cheeks puffed and lip jutted out. “Is it because you and Noctis fought?”

“Your highness,” Ignis corrected automatically, they’d had this argument too many times before. Registering what Prompto said, he froze. “What makes you think we fought?”

“The way he’s trashing Gladdy?” Prompto gave a playful grin. “And so it was a fight?”

“I…I didn’t…” Ignis slumped his shoulders. “Is he that angry?”

“Hmmm…” Prompto tapped his chin, considering it. “Well, Gladiolus did say he’d never seen Noctis so aggressive before. And Noctis kinda just glared at me when I brought up your name. So. There’s that.”

Ignis closed his eyes. Well, he did deserve this, rebuking the prince like that. He didn’t even let the prince finish speaking before reacting, it could have just been something ordinary, like a renewal of friendship. “I didn’t intend for this.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Prompto softened. Setting the pitchfork to the side, he approached Ignis and squeezed his shoulder. “You always mean well. Sometimes too well.”

“It’s just…” Ignis stared at the black hide of Regalia, as though the answers could be found in the whirls of his hair. “I want to make sure he’s happy. Always. To help him with his duties and try to ease the burden he has.”

And to keep these feelings of his sealed away, forever.

“I know you do. You’ve always put him first. But,” Prompto asked thoughtfully, peering up at him. “You know, he always seems happiest with you. Have you ever thought of that?”

viii.

The evening breeze was chilly and Ignis shivered as he nudged open the doors to the rooftop. On the western tower, there was no night-watch or prying eyes. Only the roosting pigeons knew of what transpired here, their coos filling the air as Ignis stepped out onto the exposed roof.

Ahead of him was Noctis, sitting on the bench they’d set up when they were children. A secret base, as the prince liked to call it. A place where he could be alone. He’d often come here when he was angry or sad. All of which meant that Prompto hadn’t been teasing earlier. Or at least, only teasing.

Saying nothing, Ignis walked forward carefully, a small tray in his hands. The heat from Noctis’s favourite soup wafted up to his nose and he was glad that the food was keeping warm. “Your highness.”

Noctis didn’t say anything, his back rigid, his eyes staring straight ahead as the sun slowly set.

Ignis hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he quickly said, “Noctis.” His ears burned.

At that, Noctis turned his head, acknowledging his presence. He still didn’t say anything but he moved to the side, making room on the bench for him. Grateful, Ignis sat down next to him, setting down the tray on the space next to him. He folded his hands on his lap. Noctis softly inhaled, exhaled, a sound as familiar as Ignis’s own heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

Noctis didn’t reply.

“I…” Ignis couldn’t say why he really pulled away. Couldn’t break this fragile thing between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Softly, Noctis sighed. He rested his forehead on his hand, his head angled slightly to look up at Ignis. “I know. You never do.” His expression was still dark. “It’s just…I…” Gritting his teeth, he curled into himself. “Never mind, just…just forget about what I did.”

“Never.” Ignis shook his head. Noctis had never looked so small before. So vulnerable. And it was all because of him and his inability to keep his feelings in check. “I also miss how close we used to be. It’s just…our positions…you’re the prince and I…”

“Is that it?” Noctis sat up and leaned close, too close. Ignis barely had time to register his presence before Noctis’s hands were on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Is that all that’s stopping you?”

“Noctis?” Ignis glanced nervously at the door. If anyone found them in such a compromising situation…heads would roll. His own, possibly.

“Is that all?” Noctis repeated, unconcerned.

“It’s a big thing,” Ignis protested. “You’re the heir to the throne. I’m a commoner.”

“You’re right, I’m the heir to the throne.” Noctis leaned closer and Ignis could see his long eyelashes, the flecks of grey in his eyes. His hands shook slightly. “So who can tell me that this is wrong?” The gap between their bodies, their lips, was so small. Ignis could feel Noctis’s heat radiating onto his skip, feel his breath on his face. “Who can tell me not to love you?”

Love? Ignis’s mind went blank. Noctis closed the gap, kissing him hungrily and any thoughts he still had disappeared entirely. All he could feel was Noctis, his hands digging into Ignis’s back as he held him tight, deepening the kiss. And god, his lips were soft, so soft, just as he’d imagined for years, and his arms were strong and—

And he was kissing the prince. Ignis pulled back in a panic. “Your highness!”

“Noctis,” Noctis admonished, a small pout on his face. “What’s wrong now?”

“I…you…this is highly improper!” Ignis blushed a furious red.

“I thought…” Noctis turned red himself, retracting quickly. Realization dawned on his face. “This…you didn’t mean…” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god.”

“No, I did—I mean, I didn’t…” Ignis took a deep breath, trying to regain some measure of coherence. “You like me.”

Head still buried in his hands, Noctis nodded.

“Oh.” Ignis felt his skin burn even hotter, his heart doing funny things inside his chest. Noctis loved him too. This wasn’t a one-sided pining. Not now, at least.

Suddenly, he understood Noctis’s reaction when they were horse riding. He’d taken it as a rejection. Resting a hand on Noctis’s back, his other hand pried Noctis out of hiding and gently pulled him up into a seated position. “Me too,” he admitted. “I like you too.”

Noctis blinked, confused. “Then…”

“I…” Ignis touched his lips with a hand. “That was…” He smiled, pleased for a moment, before remembering himself. Remembering who they were. “That was improper.”

Noctis frowned. “Ignis, I’m the prince. I’ll decide what’s improper or not.”

“But—”

“I love you, but sometimes you talk entirely too much.” Noctis wrapped an arm around Ignis, the other hand tangled in his hair. “Do you love me?”

There was no where to turn, to hide. “Yes,” Ignis admitted, unable to lie when Noctis was staring at him so intensely.

“Good, that’s all I need.” Noctis smiled brightly and leaned forward to kiss him again.

In the part of Ignis’s brain that was still functioning, he hoped he’d remembered to lock the door.

#ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #ignoct #noctnis #ffxv #ff15 #gladiolus amiticia #prompto argentum #cindy aurum #fanfic #i like playing with the merlin au #and this thing turned into a monster #ahahah

18 notes · View notes