#he finished what the poor knife magnet started | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lexwritess · 3 years

Note

incorrect quotes anon, i have a super angsty idea that i think you’ll LOVE. so basically michael x reader but she died at on of the outpost, and were basically the only good part about michael and him not caring about anything anymore (even more than usual lmao). and it’s just grief and sadness and anger. it’s fine if not, if you do i’d love to make incorrect quote for it also! have a great day/night!!!! ❤️❤️

broken promises [m.l.]

pairing: michael langdon x fem!reader

warnings: angst, death, swearing, blood, i don’t think this is accurate i tried to research on lilith but it was difficult but i liked the idea so this version of lilith is mostly based off the one from caos

a/n: i got a little carried away lmao

words: 1.6k

slightly au! i’m going to pretend michael can’t bring dead people back ✌️

y/n is a witch. but she’s a different kind of witch. she was born for a very specific purpose, one that she didn’t even understand yet. she knew she was different though.

she really knew she was different when her supreme, cordilia, tried to kill her.

she ran away from her sisters that night. she didn’t need cordilia to kill her. she already felt dead. defeated. the only real family she’s had wanted her dead.

that’s when she met michael.

michael despised all witches, but there was something about y/n that dragged him to her. the two of them were like magnets and they both felt it. the world always pulling them towards each other.

she met michael when he was at a loss. y/n wasn’t the only one cordilia hurt that day.

y/n found michael in the woods, he looked ill and lost.

y/n brought him to a dark church she saw a couple days prior. they found a woman there that was eager to help them back on their feet and get them well and nourished.

that was a big step for michael. after that visit michael finally got sense of himself. unfortunately, y/n still didn’t understand her purpose.

“i want to help michael, i really do but i don’t know what i’m suppose to do. you’re the antichrist! i’m just a rejected witch.” y/n tells michael gloomily.

tomorrow was a big day for him, he was getting back his ms. mead. of course y/n was happy for him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t need her anymore.

“you are so much more than that. you are more powerful than you think and you are a big help to me. and even if you don’t serve a purpose for the apocalypse i care about you and want you by my side.” michael looks into your eyes and grabs your hands.

that’s where y/n and michael shared their first kiss.

“can you help him or not.” you interrupt the two idiotic coke heads.

“oh. who’s this?” mutt said cockily.

“she’s a witch on my side. her coven tried to kill her. don’t get any ideas though she’s mine.” michael said protectively.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

“alright, sorry. please don’t light me on fire.” mutt says defensively.

this is the second time michaels been here. this time he decided to bring you along so maybe you could get an idea what to do next if jeff and mutt didn’t.

“do you have some special marking on you, or have demonic fire powers?” jeff asks you while mutt looks for something to help michael.

y/n shows him the upside down triangle that appeared on her wrist about a month ago.

“not going to lie, that’s kinda lame.” jeff says disappointed.

y/n gives the man a glare and with the wave of her hand the glass bowl of cocaine was now broken across the floor.

“WHAT THE FU-.” jeff yelled before mutt stepped in.

“we can worry about it later. look at the book of revelations. have you read it?” mutt asks.

michael looks at them before opening the book with his magic.

y/n flips through the book when michael is done looking for anything else.

“who is lilith?” y/n ask monotone.

“lilith is technically a witch. she was the wife of adam but refused to sleep with him. eventually she went and sided with the devil. the devil turned on her. lots of variations and stories of her. no ones quite totally sure.” jeff explains.

y/n looks at michael with a skeptical look on her face and he gives one back.

“holy shit, you’re totally lilith! but for the new world!” mutt exclaims.

y/n stands up and look down upon the two.

“how would you know?” y/n raised her eyebrows at them.

“you’re coven tried to kill you, you just so happen to be with the antichrist, the triangle on your arm...makes sense.” jeff says.

y/n stays still staring at them. they gulp under her gaze before she walks out of the room.

michael hurries after the girl, needing to know what’s on her mind.

“y/n, what is the matter dear?” michael asks, linking his pinky with hers.

“i do not want to be lilith.” y/n says strongly.

“if being lilith means i will lose you in the end i don’t want it!” she lets go of michaels pinky and storms off to the car.

“darling you will never lose me! i may have to follow my fathers plans to end this world, but i’m still in charge!” michael yells to y/n.

“promise me!” y/n yells back, finally walking towards micheal.

“promise me.” y/n repeats, this time her tone barley above a whisper.

“i promise.”

2 years later

present time

the apocalypse is here. the world is gone. hell is on earth.

and you’ve been by michaels side the whole time.

he kept his promise

and now you were standing in front of your ex-coven.

they were back to kill you, again.

“come back to finish the job?” you bitterly ask cordilia.

“i had no choice! you were made for evil, i was never going to be able to peel you away from him and you would always choose him over your sisters!” cordilia yells.

“well michael never tried to kill me like you did! you were the only family i had!” you yell back, tears brimming your eyes.

you furrow your brows trying to hear what cordilia was mumbling but before you realized it’s too late.

“ms mead!” michael cried.

cordilia had killed his ms mead again.

“fuck you!” you say angerly stepping closer to cordilia.

as you walk closer cordilia is pushed back by your magic, a trail of fire leading behind you.

“how are you doing that?” madison asks in shock.

“because i’m the new supreme.” you smirk.

cordilia laughs bitterly and you look back at her.

“you can never be the supreme. you are a demoness! you are and never will be a real witch!” cordilias words burn in your brain as the realization hits you.

“mallory.” you whisper to yourself.

“precisely.” cordilia smiles.

while michael was having his last moments with ms mead, in the corner of your eye you saw madison grab the machine gun and go to point it at michael.

“repellendum malum minitar, ut nobis!” you quickly shout the protection spell.

you repeat the spell and step closer to michael.

“tutela eorum vinculum!” cordilia starts chanting against your spell.

you repeat the spell but as she gets closer the sheild starts breaking.

“et defendat mea!” you shout louder. the shield starts breaking as the other witches join in on cordilias chants.

“amans vitae meae praesidium.” you say quietly before the shield breaks.

bullets shoot throughout the room before your bloody body slumps against the wall. you feel awful, they shot you enough to make you weak so you can’t heal, but strong enough to let you bleed out.

“y/n?” michael says quietly, before he is shot as well.

myrtle cuts a piece of michaels hair and walks back to mallory.

“hurry mallory, before he heals.” cordilia rushes, and the witches leave the room.

michael wakes and looks over to see y/n’s bloody body.

“y/n! no, no, no!” michael lifts you up so he can hold you.

“michael you have to listen to me.” you cough, as the metallic taste fills your mouth.

“i can save you, i know father can. just stay with me a little longer.” michael pleads.

you smile at him and shake your head.

“listen, don’t kill cordilia. i’m not the supreme it’s mallory. she will go back and kill you in a past timeline, so none of this will never happen.”

“i have to! look what they did to you!” tears fall from his face.

“michael baby, i’ll be okay. i’ll be okay, but you got to make sure you don’t kill cordilia. it’ll bring mallory’s powers to full strength.” you assure him.

michael shakes his head as more tears fall from his crystal blue eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much. i’ll be with you soon.” michael squeezes your hand.

“i love you too michael, so much.” you let out a shaky sigh and squeeze his hand back.

“goodbye michael.” you smile as your eyes start to close.

“no, don’t say goodbye! baby please open your eyes again.” michael weeps.

“fuck! i wasn’t suppose to lose you. i wasn’t suppose to leave you, i fucking promised!” michael screams, while his sobs continue.

“it’s too late langdon.” cordilias chill voice fills michaels ears.

michaels sadness quickly turns to anger as he turns around to see the bitches smug face.

“you killed the love of my life!” michael shrieks.

cordilia hums and stares back at michael before waving the knife out of his hand into hers.

before michael can do or say anything cordilia rams the knife into her chest.

michael is at a loss for words.

he have lost

“no!” he screamed as cordilia fell to her death.

“no.” he repeated while falling to his knees.

he puts his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

he has lost everyone and now he lost the war.

he lost everything because of a job he never asked to have.

“poor michael.” myrtal said quietly while walking over to him.

“please! please just kill me.” michael says defeated.

“you’re the antichrist at his full form. i’m afraid killing you is impossible. you’ll have to live knowing you’ll never have her again.” myrtal says while waking away.

michaels cries continue.

he’ll never see you again.

you’ll never see him again.

in the new timeline he doesn’t exist to you and never will.

that’s what truly killed him.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #cody fern #cody fern x reader #micheal langdon #micheal langdon x reader #fanfic #angst #ahs angst #michael langdon smut #michael langdon angst

485 notes · View notes

displacedentities · 3 years

Text

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

#Coffee Shop Au #AHIT #A Hat In Time #doodledrawsthings #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Moonjumper #Clover #noticed a couple mistakes and it's too late to fix em wHOOPS #OH WELL

337 notes · View notes

four-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Here lies Roman García Lopez

Roman is not dead, calm down

This is just a small oneshot from the ghost au about Roman coming out as trans to Remus when they were teenagers.

Warnings: swearing, hospitals, self-deprecation, misgender, mentions of transphobia, talks of death

Obs: in some descriptions I'll be refering to Remus and Roman with she/her pronouns, but thats specifically when I'm describing their thoughts and they are referring to themselves or each other with those pronouns, since Remus didn't know he was trans here and Roman is coming out. When I'm not describing their thoughts I'll be referring to them solely by he/him pronouns.

If you tag this as r*mrom I'll punch you

The twins used to be best friends. They would play in the backyard and braid each other's hair and laugh and cry and almost forget all the ways that the world was cold and merciless.

So so merciless.

The Duke analyzed his nails as if they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen and the silence was so dense it could be cut with a knife. He wanted to talk, he really wanted to. He wanted to talk about the last movie he watched and gossip about their classmates and make jokes that were questionable to say the least and wanted to see her sister laugh and look alive again. But what would she say? At this point, what did they have in common? What could she do? Open her mouth just to throw all that filthy that was inside her mind at her poor sister? Talk about her life and about how she was a disgusting piece of garbage? Ruin those few hours that they had together? Yeah, as their mother would always say, if you have nothing nice to say just shut up.

The Duke felt like he never had anything nice to say.

"How is school going?" The one in the hospital bed started. Panic dominated The Duke's eyes and he didn't move for a good ten seconds, looking like he wasn't even breathing until he shrugged.

"As shitty as always, you know. The usual stuff"

"I wish I was there" The Princess sighed.

"Nah, you don't, it's the most boring thing ever, I got a shitton of homework and also tomorrow I got a fucking chemistry test and I don't even know if I'm going to study, you got it easy, dude" as soon as those words left his mouth he regretted it "No, I'm kidding, that was stupid, this sucks too I know, but if I could I would just leave school, I mean who cares?"

"You can't do that. School is important"

The Duke didn't say anything. He had a lot of answers but none of them were nice. And he wanted to be nice to The Princess, at least. He had lost everybody else, even Virgil, even Virgil, she was not going to lose her sister too.

"Why did you call me?" Finally said.

"What?"

"Dad said that you wanted to talk to me. Specifically. Why?"

"I have to ask you for a favor"

"What is it? Yes, I can get you drugs" The Princess raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"What? I'm sure it would make the hospital more interesting, no judgments."

"No. No, it's not that" he was so tense and that was stressing the Duke out. He closed his mouth shut because when he was nervous he rambled and when he rambled he always ended up saying the worst possible things. The Princess took a breath as if it was a battle to take the words out of his throat.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to die"

"A lot of people are" said before he could contain himself. That should have earned at least a chuckle from the Princess but he didn't make a sound.

"No. No. I mean- what I mean is…" he decided to just rip it off like a band aid "I feel like I’m going to die in a few days. I think-"

"Bullshit!" The Duke snapped without warning, startling his brother. "You have no fucking right to say that!" Is it really that easy to make him cry?

"It's true! I- I can feel it, okay? Death is following me"

"Death has always followed you, you stupid fuck, you're like a godamn death magnet!"

"Yeah but it's different now, I- look, how I know doesn't matter, I need you to do something for-"

"I'm not doing shit for you!" Ok that's a lot of emotion for someone who was completely numb the entire week, Duke's body has grown unused to feelings apparently, as he was shaking and burning and screaming and crying and wanting to curl up in a ball and die.

"Just listen-"

"Fuck you!" The Duke covered his ear to show that he wasn't going to listen but also suddenly because everything was too much. Too much noise, too much light, too much, too much. "I'm going to tell your doctor and she's going to say that's bullshit because that's bullshit you can't just die!" Yelled at the top of his lungs. She couldn't lose her sister, no, no, everyone but her.

"I need you to change my name in my gravestone!" said as loudly as his brother, sitting up. That took The Duke by surprise and he uncovered his ears in confusion.

"What?"

"When I die, mom and dad will pay for a gravestone and its going to have a name on it"

"You're not-"

"Fucking listen to me! I don't want to die too, for fucks sake, but I need to be ready when it happens!" The Princess finally snapped in his despair to be listened to. His brother stopped and seemed to consider his options until, slowly, sat down again.

"What do you mean, [...]?" he said his brother's deadname.

"Exactly that. That name. It's not my name"

"Are you high?"

"Look" he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated "I had a lot of time to think. I- I did some research and… I- I'm not a girl" The Duke didn't say anything. For once in his life he had no idea what to say. "Yeah. I've always felt like that. Like something was… off. Wrong. That someone made a mistake when-" he gestured toward his body "I'm not telling mom and dad. They wouldn't understand, they never understand shit. But I know you will, sister"

"Wait, hold the fuck up, what are you saying? If you're not a girl, what the fuck are you then?" The Princess swallowed, scared to say it out loud. There would be no coming back if he did it. He raised his hand to compliment the teenager in front of him, shaking from head to toe.

"I'm- Roman. Nice to meet you." he was crying already, trying to not let his voice fail him "I'm your brother, I'm a trans man and I don't want to die just to be remembered by the wrong name"

Trans man. Trans. A word that was known but still sounded like a secret. Forbidden.

The Duke looked at his brother's hand. Then he looked at his face, with his long hair and tears and all that fear in his eyes.

And he understood, that was what scared him the most.

"Something was off. Something was wrong. Someone made a mistake"

"I don't want to be remembered by the wrong name"

He understood every single word on a deep personal level, he knew that despair, that fear.

He shaked his brother's hand, who immediately melted in relief.

"Roman. You're going to live." Said with that same caring voice that he used when they were kids and Roman had nightmares and he would sing lullabies completely out of tune until his brother fell asleep, delicately cleaning his brother's tears. “You're going to live and you're going to make sure that mom and dad remember you right. I promise"

"But what if I-"

"No! No" The Duke interrupted, not allowing his brother to finish that phrase, not again. "You know what. You're coming with me" announced, starting to look through the closet for some clothes his brother could use.

"... what?"

"We are leaving this shithole"

"I can't leave the hospital [...]!" deadname.

"I don't want to be remembered by the wrong name"

The Duke closed his eyes and when he turned back to his brother he was smiling almost maniacally.

"Yes, you can" he found some sweater pants and a black tshirt "Here, put this on. This place is fucking you up. Mom is fucking you up, this is her fault. We are going out and you're going to live. You're going to live" an idea came to his mind "Do you want to cut your hair?" Roman looked at the clothes on his hands. Then at the teenager looking at him full of expectation. Deep down Roman knew. Staying there was not helping. It was making things worse, he knew even deeper down. And if he was dying he wanted to die by his sister's side.

"Yes. I want to cut my hair" admitted. He didn't hate his long hair, it was pretty and brushing it was relaxing. But he hated how it made everyone think he was a girl. "But mom will be pissed"

"What doesn't piss that woman off?" Exclaimed exasperated and Roman opened the smallest grin.

"Yesterday they gave me strawberry juice instead of orange juice and she threw an entire fucking tantrum"

"Exactly. If she was a little bit whiter she would be a textbook Karen" that made Roman giggle.

"She would. Are we actually doing this?"

"Of course we're! Now get ready, Princes- Princey" Roman smiled widely.

"I like Princey"

"I thought you would" Roman got dressed and The Duke gave him his black hoodie.

"So you won't get recognized" explained.

"I'm sure nobody is going to try to arrest me if they see me sneaking out, thank you very much. Also what was the last time you washed this? It smells like shit" actually Roman would never comment on it out loud but his sister was generally a mess. With hair that wasn't brushed in days and wasn't washed in an even longer time, smudged make up all over her face and dirty baggy clothes. If only he had connected the dots before it was too late.

"I'm sure you'll survive" replied sharply, opening the door.

The hoodie didn't help.

" What are you doing here Ms. Garcia? Do you want anything?" The first nurse that saw them was quick to ask.

"Ahn…" The Duke opened his mouth to explain. Then close it again.

"I just wanted to take some air, my sister came to visit me and we thought it would be cool to go outside real quick" Roman came to rescue him.

"Your sister…" slowly her gaze went to the other teenager "Oh, you. I'm not sure I can allow that. Not without your mother's permission"

"You can come with us, then! My mom wouldn't like to know that you're keeping me stuck in my room. Like a prisoner" the nurse looked worried. Their mom had a reputation around the hospital and it wasn't a good one.

"Just five minutes, okay?"

"Wonderful!" Roman winked in his brother's direction, who opened a smile and they were both guided toward the front of the hospital, where there was a small decorative garden.

"What now?" The Duke whispered, gesturing toward the nurse with his head, she was way too close. Roman looked around and his eyes stopped at one specific point.

"There"

"What?"

"There's a cat"

"I don't see anything"

"Its because its not alive" the animals souls were the easiest to attract and even control. "Her" Roman said in an almost sing-song voice. The cat tilted its head, an empty hole in the place where its left eye was supposed to be and, without warning, threw itself at the nurse, emitting a meow that from her perspective came out of thin air and made the poor woman scream in surprise.

"Now!" And Roman started running. His brother only stopped to giggle before running too. When she noticed that the kids were missing they were already far away.

"Fuck, that was fun!" Roman exclaimed as he recovered from the run, still breathing with some difficulty. His brother enjoyed the feeling for a little longer. He almost felt alive for a minute.

"Of course it was, it was my idea"

"I mean I was the one who fooled the nurse, all you did was stutter"

"Oh, shut up. It's not my fault everyone likes you best"

"Everyone is stupid. You're the cooler twin"

"Don't you come at me with your compliments!" Roman laughed, a genuinely laugh that filled his brother with happiness and warmth.

"Right. What do we do now? I'm still totally down for that haircut"

"Well first of all we're going to steal some scissors because I'm totally broke-"

"Oh my god!" Roman exclaimed in disbelief "My own sister! Wanting to make me a criminal!"

If you get to be brother why do I have to be sister?

Remus ignored that thought for the time being.

"You're not going to regret it! We can steal some chocolate too!" replied, putting his arm around his brother's shoulders. Roman rolled his eyes.

"Oh my life would be so dull without you" The one that would call himself Remus in the future smiled. And I wouldn't be alive without you, thought to himself.

#roman sanders #remus Sanders #creativitwins #ghost au #rabbit writes #fanfic #cw swearing #tw hospital #tw death mention

30 notes · View notes

zeldaelmo · 3 years

Text

This is my contribution for the @behind-the-fic MFC contest! It's an old story (the first chapter, actually, but I figured it would work as a one-shot as well). I am working on something else, but I’m slow and the new story is very much out of my comfort zone, so who knows if I’m able to finish it to my satisfaction until 01.08.

I'm not fond of the idea of competition when it comes to my creative hobbies, so I don't want to win anything. I just like to be part of it because I was too shy to do the podcast as a non-native speaker.

But enough of me, you are here to get sad. 😉

tw: Link is an orphan in this one and the loss of his parents is mentioned as a backstory. Nothing horrible, but I want you to be aware.

Well. And warning for horrible proposals. 😆

Oh, and this story was inspired by a scene of @spacebeyonce Halloween fic ‘draw me like a magnet (to the sea)’ !

A fool such as I

He knew he was a fool when his eyes scanned the passing sidewalk for a woman with blonde hair from the passenger's seat of Pipit’s car.

He knew he was a fool when they entered the charity gala, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking for a pair of blue eyes.

He knew he was a fool when a bell-like laugh made him turn around to find out if it was her.

It was not.

It was never her.

“Link,” Pipit nudged him in the side, rolling his eyes at him, “you are doing it again. Get yourself something to drink and enjoy the evening, for Hylia’s sake! I didn’t drag you here to look for your imaginary girlfriend!”

Sighing in defeat, Link grabbed a glass from the tray of one of the waiters, not caring at all what fancy drink he might have gotten himself. Old habits die hard – the point wasn’t that Link didn’t know Pipit was right. It was just... he sipped his drink to distract himself and the bitter-sweet taste of the bright orange aperitif rolled on his tongue.

This wasn’t the first time they'd had this conversation and if Link was honest with himself, it wouldn’t be the last, either. He knew that looking for her was like looking for a needle in a haystack. His heart, however, knew not. Every time he convinced himself to give up, every time he tried to move on, his pulse thrummed against that faded scar on his palm, and he did it again.

Like a fool.

He had been eight when he first met her.

It had been his mother’s last summer alive. She had been suffering from a mysterious lung disease the doctors couldn’t explain and couldn’t heal. They had sent the whole family to Skyloft, a famous climatic spa, in a last, desperate attempt to save her life. His parents hadn’t told him how severe his mother’s condition was, perhaps to spare him or perhaps to spare themselves from the truth. They just spoke about a long vacation with him, an opportunity for him to meet new friends and to stray over the little island on his own. He had loved the idea immediately.

The girl arrived three days after him, her cheeks lacking color, her hair coiffed in two neat braids, and her proper cotton dress dancing around her knees. She was without her parents, just with her nanny – a stern-looking woman named Impa. The curious child that he was, he asked her in the following days why her parents didn’t accompany her. She shrugged and said, they were extremely busy and their jobs couldn’t afford a summer break and that was that. To him, it didn’t matter anyway, because sneaking her out was much easier this way – Impa never caught them.

The physician had diagnosed her with general weakness and a susceptibility to illness and therefore she'd been sent to Skyloft. Link couldn’t detect anything ‘ill’ on her. Her face lit up every time she saw him in the eating room and after she winked at him over the huge bowl of pumpkin soup, he followed her in a safe distance to her room on his tiptoes. Impa, whose room was on the opposite, frightened him, so he didn’t dare to knock in case she would hear him. Instead, he bolted out of the back door and threw little pebbles on her window to get her attention. She opened the window with a wide smile, and he knew immediately that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

The days flew by after that.

They met at the Goddess statue whenever she had free time between her treatments, and she sneaked out every evening to sit with him at the little pond. Her cheeks began to grow rosier from day to day and soon her blue eyes sparkled in the summer sun.

She hadn’t been ill – she had been lonely.

He taught her how to catch bugs and butterflies with a butterfly net, and she taught him their correct names. They read stories from the books of the little library, she more often than him because she was already a fluent reader while he was a beginner. Later in the summer, he even showed her how to swim and when she was too frustrated with her lack of stamina, they ended up in a giant water fight until their giggles made their faces and stomachs hurt. They raced over the island together, always hand in hand, stealing apples at the market and hiding sky stag beetles under seat cushions to watch the poor owner of the cushion being pinched from their hiding place. ‘Oh, will you look at these cuties!’, the adults exclaimed when they saw them, or, ‘Ah, to be young and in love again!’ and they both blushed in the warm summer sun.

One afternoon, after they got a large piece of pumpkin pie from one of the farmers for helping to harvest the earlier pumpkins, she even kissed him. ‘You have pumpkin on your lips, Link,” she whispered, and then she pressed her lips to his and he was sure that he would burst into tiny pieces any moment out of sheer happiness.

Like every summer, this summer too, had to end. She sneaked out of her room for the last time to meet him at their favorite place. They sat closer together as usual, both searching for comfort in the other, instinctively unwilling to separate from each other. Their hearts heavy, not many words were spoken, at least for eight-year-old standards. When the light of the sun turned slowly in a glowing shade of orange, she took his hand and turned his palm upward, stroking a line over it with her index finger.

“Do you have your carving knife with you?” She spoke under her breath, “I want to take an oath.” He had and so he traced the stinging, bloody cut in his palm when he watched her part with Impa the following morning, swearing to himself that he would do anything he could to keep his part of the promise.

They would see each other again, no matter what.

And if that made him a fool, so be it.

“Earth at Link, earth at Link, we need you down here!” Pipit waved a piece of paper in front of his face. His friend had been busy filling out the symbolic check for their donation and was obviously expecting his input. Link blinked at him. “How much do we usually give? 3000 rupees?” he asked, trying to cover his slip into the daydream before his friend would shoot him another remark. Fortunately, Pipit was used to his aversion to numbers in general and didn’t grow suspicious. Pipit was the book-keeper and planner of their little security firm, while Link stuck to the operating tasks like installing an alarm device or overlooking a festivity in addition to the regular stuff of another rich family. His job description was a mixture between bodyguard and engineer, but usually, he liked to be on the road and working with Pipit was a huge pro as well.

His friend nodded in agreement to his question and tapped the pen at his lips. “Well, write 3500. I’ll cover the rest.”

Pipit blew a whistle. “What’s up, Link? Feeling generous tonight?”

“It’s for an orphanage this year, Pipit,” he sighed. “There are too many kids who don’t have the same luck I had back then.”

And that was true. Life didn’t give him much opportunity to think of his promise at first. His mother died only weeks after their return from Skyloft and his father followed her half a year later. A broken heart, the doctor said with thin lips when he squeezed his shoulder. He ended up in an orphanage for a few months but was lucky enough to find a family who was willing to adopt him. It was very unusual that a child of his age found a family at all. His adoptive parents said that they loved his messy hair and his honest smile from the very first second, and no matter how ridiculous that sounded to him, he was immensely thankful. Of course, it took some time to grow to love each other, but they managed somehow, and he didn’t feel so lost anymore – at least regarding his family.

A year after he had left Skyloft, his life had changed dramatically, but he hadn’t forgotten his friend at all. Dreaming of her smile warmed him inside when the grief shook him to the core and thinking of her hand in his, anchored him when he was on the verge of drifting off. His new family knew nothing about her and although they shared a robust trust after a while, he was hesitant to share this treasured piece of his old life with them.

Instead, he secretly started to look for her whenever they were in new places. Stood on staircases to get a better look over a crowd. Glanced at all the other tables when they were eating in a restaurant. Stayed near the door of a bus to observe if she might be one of the people who hopped on or off the vehicle.

She was never among them.

As a teenager, he gathered his courage and made a serious attempt to find her. He had little to start - they hadn’t thought of exchanging addresses or even last names. The horizon of eight-year-old children only extends so far. So, the administration of the health resort in Skyloft was his first shot. The files of the patients were only stored for five years, and they wouldn’t give him further information anyway unless he was related to her. He scrolled through the homepage of the staff next and contacted the few faces he recognized, stumbling through his lines on the phone. Nobody remembered a blonde girl with her name.

The last hint to her was Impa. He tried to find her instead, hoping an adult would leave more traces behind than a girl would, but the internet was dead silent about a nanny named Impa. It was hopeless. He was stuck looking for her everywhere he went.

Pipit coughed in his fist beside him and nodded in the direction of a brunette a few steps in front of them, hissing, “Babe alert!”

“You are married, Pipit.” Link rolled his eyes at his friend. “Karane won’t be lucky over the fact that you are pining after other women.”

“I’m talking about you, you moron. Or are you still dating Peatrice?”

Link groaned and waved his hands. “Don’t get me started on that girl. She was so clingy, horrible.”

He had tried to like her, really. She had begged him for a date, and he had given in. They had done all this dating stuff, watching films in the cinema, dining in a restaurant, even holding hands on a walk in the park. It had always been the same, after two hours more or less, he hadn’t been able to stand her anymore. The mindless chit chat, the exaggerated admiration for him, the false lashes, everything about her had put him on edge.

Like a clockwork, his scar had begun to itch, and he had fled from her presence.

“She wasn’t her.” Pipit narrowed his eyes at him. “That’s why. Because you are still chasing rainbows. Link, man up and move on!”

“She was clin-” Link stopped.

Looked again.

Took a few steps forward.

“Link?” He heard Pipit asking somewhere behind him, but he was already on his way.

Could it be? His pace quickened when the people in front of him revealed a glimpse of blonde hair once again. The beat of his heart drummed through his veins, all the way down to his fingertips and his toes, too loud, too fast, and he tried assertively to push it back into his rib cage.

He had been wrong before.

He was most likely wrong again, the people and the yards between them made it difficult to be sure. Her calf-length evening dress was pink, yes, but who knew if it was still her favorite color? She had been eight.

When she turned and his desperate eyes slid over the curve of her nose, her lashes, her powdered cheeks, a stubborn thing called hope expended in this chest. The bright, powerful hope like the sun after a summer storm, not the simmering, obstinately hope like a smoldering fire which had accompanied him for so long now.

She was talking to someone, an elegant gentleman with long white hair, and her face lit up just in time when he was near enough to confirm that her eyes were blue. And then she smiled, a polite, practiced smile only, not even reaching her eyes, but it was proof enough to let his heart skip for far too long as it should be medically explainable.

He had found her.

Hylia above, after all these years, he had truly, finally found her! Tiny, shaky breaths left him, in and out, which did nothing to calm his nerves, and he took her in again, just to be sure. She looked different, of course, but her eyes had still the slightest trace of sadness that they had when he had seen her for the first time. Her features had grown out of the roundness of a child and her cheeks were rouged to hide the lack of color again.

It had to be her – his heart beat nothing but her name through his veins. He had nearly caught up to her now and raising his trembling hand, he called, “Zelda!” Her head snapped up and his chest expanded nearly painfully from joy – it was her. It was her! But before their eyes could meet, a security guard in a black suit tapped her shoulder and led her away.

No!

Someone on the stage announced the charity entry of the princess, but he didn’t pay anything around him mind, nearly batted the unpleasant noise away with his hands. Setting his shoulders once more and squeezing through the people, he tried to follow the way she had left. He would not lose her again, now that he had finally found her. Never again!

The stage and the backstage area were closed off with thick red ropes, a bodyguard with a stern face on each side of the stage, who already eyed him when he gave the rope a frustrated slap. He couldn’t look for her here.

Fretfully, he turned around only to realize that he was trapped. Every single attendant of the charity Gala had gathered around the stage and it was pointless to try to get through these people, let alone find her again. Rolling his eyes, he braced himself for the next minutes of what would probably be a boring charity speech from the princess while he was dying to be on his way to find Zelda once again.

He had never been particularly interested in the royal family – he wasn’t even sure if he would recognize one of them beside the King on the street. The King was the figurehead of the parliamentary monarchy and gained the main interest of the journalists and the people, while the rest of the royal family lived a relatively secluded life. Every now and then one of the members would participate in a charity event much like today.

Sure, there was some kind of gossip press, too, but Link had always believed himself having more important things to do than following ‘reports’ of people he would never see in real life anyway. In the past, he had watched the New Year's speech of the King on television every year with his adoptive family, and he still did sometimes now he lived alone to keep the tradition up. Therefore, in all honesty, his curiosity about seeing the Princess wasn’t as great as it seemed to be the case with the people around him, but now that he was standing in the first row, he might as well take a look at her.

The moment he turned around was the moment he realized he hadn’t been only a fool.

He had been the greatest fool of all.

Zelda.

Zelda was the Princess of Hyrule.

His heart dropped in his stomach, no to the floor. Suddenly, everything made sense. Impa hadn’t been a stern nanny; she had been a bodyguard. Her parents hadn’t been able to accompany her because they were the King and the Queen. Of course, she had been pale and lonely and well educated, because she had spent so much time on becoming a perfect princess as a child. Nobody remembered a blonde girl because they all only recalled the one summer the Princess was in Skyloft. He had never seen her on the bus because she had her own chauffeur.

His knees nearly gave out under him, the edge of his vision blurring, when he tried to process the new information. Zelda was the Princess. That changed everything. Or did it change nothing at all? How was he supposed to think straight with that soundscape here?

He quashed the urge to block his ears from the horrible sappy violin music, his eyes returning to her instinctively, searching hers in vain. She was so sweet and beautiful and familiar; he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Oh, how he had missed her!

So, what if she was the Princess? He wouldn’t let something like that get in their way. A promise was a promise was a promise. He just had to talk to her somehow when she left the stage – then they would pick up their friendship. Perhaps, if they still clicked like all these years ago, he even dared to hope for more.

The piece of music the fiddlers were playing reached an even more sappy height and a guy with an odd, red pompadour he hadn’t noticed before stepped up to Zelda. He nestled with something in his pocket before he dropped down to one knee. Link’s eyes widened in horror, his body frozen in place. No… No, stop it! Not now, when he had finally found her! An icy fist gripped his heart and refused to let go. This had to be a cruel joke of destiny.

One long, wonderful moment she said nothing, and he dared to hope that – yes, what? That she looked over, realized her undying love for him, so they could ride into the sunset on his non-existing horse?

He fled when she nodded and the idiot raised again, not hesitating to kiss her. The people in front of him barely parted, and he stumbled, tripped until he found himself breaking down on the grated steps of the emergency exit. The cold of the autumn evening crawled under his skin. Or maybe it was the cold sting of realization. If he had found her ten minutes earlier, a week earlier, a year earlier, he might have stood a chance. Now, every moment he had looked for her had been in vain, her fiancé didn’t look at all like the type who would tolerate a rival, even if they would just be friends.

What a fool he had been!

He pressed his palms to his eyes, casting the world out. Who was he kidding, she was the Princess. Princesses didn’t stick with orphaned country-boys running a little two-person-operation, which made barely enough to donate a little sum every year. Princesses married rich company heirs, fancy musicians, or whatever this guy was.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat with his face buried in his hands, hot tears dwelling at the corner of his eyes, unwilling to shed, when he heard the metallic click of the door. It could have been minutes. Or hours – and now Pipit had finally found him. It was time to move on anyway for him.

A delicate hand stroked his back once, twice, before it withdrew.

“A break-up?” A soft voice asked and when he raised his head, the tears finally fell.

Rainbows.

He had been chasing rainbows – she didn’t even recognize him when he was directly in front of her.

It took him two attempts to get the words through the stinging lump in his throat. “Kind of,” he finally choked out, torturing himself by looking at her face from so close.

She smiled that polite, meaningless smile, saying, “You’ll find someone else, eventually.”

“I guess I have to,” he whispered and tore his gaze away, his heart shattering into a million pieces. The silence hung between them like the moon between the stars, and he waited and hoped and hated himself more for it with every passing second.

Finally, she sighed and rubbed her arms. “I’m sure it’s a beautiful night somewhere, for someone.”

He didn’t dare to look in her eyes again when he unwound his white-blue shawl and placed it on her shoulders. Denied himself to let his fingertips linger. To enclose her in his arms to shield her from the cold. From the world that forced her to paint her pale cheeks with rouge.

“Thank you,” she breathed, quiet, earnest.

He looked at the moon again, taking his time to breathe in and breathe out, failing to prepare himself for a goodbye he had dreamed of as a beginning. A goodbye, he had never meant to say.

“Congratulations on your engagement.”

She looked at the rock on her finger, fidgeting the underside of the ring with her thumb. “Ah, yes, that. Thank you.”

Despite himself, he took her hands in his and pressed a kiss on her knuckles, his fingers brushing her scar and hers brushing his for a terrible, perfect moment before he left.

“Goodnight, Zelda.” His voice was as quiet as his heart was loud.

The emergency door fell shut after him with a heavy thud and the crowd of the gala swallowed him without hesitation.

She really should look happier, but it wasn’t his concern anymore.

Perhaps it never had been.

Psss... if you are like me and can’t stand a sad ending, check out the rest of the story here.

#zelink #a fool such as I #zeldaelmo writes #modern au #behind the fic

19 notes · View notes

pallasperilous · 3 years

Text

Occursus

Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.”

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.” He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade.

“So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod.

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…” and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

#spn fanfiction #spn 15x20 #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #bless you all for your sexy and angsty coda fics please enjoy this massive wodge of angel lore wankery dating back 11 seasons

108 notes · View notes

quillfulwriter · 3 years

Text

13 Nights of OC-tober: Night 2: First to Go

[The challenge from @cryscries continues! I had a busy past few days, so I ran late. This one has character death, which I know was implied, but still. Next one’s October 8th(ish) for me!]

Night 1: The Warning

Words: 1300 (2 to 12 minutes) | TW: Character death (non-gory), slight body horror, swearing, cursed items

——–

“Got your sketchy stuff for the party,” Nate announced, using his elbow to open the lever door handle and nudge his way into Tom’s apartment. He stayed back a year or two, so he was older than Nate and could afford things like his own place. With a little help from his parents, who seemed plenty happy to take over his room back home.

“Took you long enough,” Tom joked, if his half-smile meant anything. And maybe it didn’t. He stood at the same height as Nate, but broader, so he looked more mature than he really was and even more when he had that easy smirk. “What’d you do, get a job there?”

“She almost recruited me for the forces of darkness, I think.”

Nate dropped the box on a pile of mail on the first surface he came across, clearly building on a habit Tom started. It was his house, so blaming him for it seemed fair.

“Should’ve accepted, maybe you’d get a discount.”

Going through the box, Tom shoved aside basically what Nate thought he would: the hairbrush, the little baubles that wouldn’t be useful to start, nothing surprising.

“Doesn’t get cheaper than free,” he pointed out, stealing a snack from the cabinet. The stress of being scoped out for the dark arts worked up an appetite.

“Poor Nate.” Tom laughed, tossing a silver picture frame to the far side of the box from where he was digging. “The only girl giving him attention is the rose lady.”

With a shrug, he unwrapped the cookies enough to pull one out.

“Not my fault the guys like me better.”

“Sure they do.” Tom nodded to the book locket hanging over his hoodie. “What’s that, then? Gift from your new girlfriend?”

Nate glanced down at it, frowning. Whatever happened to enjoying a cookie in peace without being pestered about maybe cursed jewelry he felt compelled to keep?

“I brought the box, I get to pull loot from it.”

“Loot?” Tom scoffed. “Go home and tell your mom she raised a weirdo with bad tastes.”

“She knows,” Nate answered, heading out and waving over his shoulder with that first cookie. “I’m friends with you.”

——–

It was close to 11 when Tom called it a night for decorating, but that didn’t stop him from getting a drink and taking a lap around his place to appreciate his own work. Not that he had a big apartment to decorate.

The faded books got covered with fake spiderwebs, then he set up the stone knife near those. After splatting costume blood on the hand mirror to cover up the crusty black smear on it, he put that down by the plastic skull on the coffee table. The moonlight coming through his dingy windows made it spookier too. Tom’d seen creepier setups, but he had time to finish the rest. And Nate to send on more fetch quests if he needed it.

“Ah, shit,” he grumbled, catching on that smudge on the mirror was larger as he flopped onto his futon. The cheap fake blood probably caused it, but cleaning it off seemed like a waste when the damage was done. “Gonna throw it out anyway.”

He had better things to do. Like propping his feet up on the coffee table and binge watching whatever until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

But the longer he watched, the larger he swore that smear grew.

“Haunted-looking, I said,” he eventually muttered to himself. Nate was too much of a problem magnet to be trusted with even that, apparently. He turned the mirror facedown on the table and shoved it away with his foot. The blood trailing after it would probably stain, if he cared.

The shrill whine started about an hour later, and Tom chalked it up to his TV. Some technology thing he didn’t care to know about. That was Nate’s thing.

But when it became more of a far-off scream than a whine, making the mirror rattle... He took his feet off the coffee table and watched it. Unblinking. He started so long, the engraved swirls in it looked like they were moving.

“Fuck this,” he breathed, wiping his hand over his face and getting up. He dropped the half-full bottle of beer into the trash. Didn’t need more of that, obviously.

He barely had a glass for water in his hand before the scream turned to a shriek, warping and distorting everything. The surreal voice was miles away and behind his eyes at the same time, to the point where Tom couldn’t hear the glass shatter when he let it go to cover his ears. Calling it a sound was wrong. He felt the wordless wailing snake around his bones, rising over his head like rushing water, and it was all he could do to turn and walk back to the living room for that damn mirror.

Had to be the mirror. What else?

The black smear started to spill out past the edge of the tarnished silver, crawling and winding over his coffee table bit by bit. Nothing else made noise. Not the scream he felt in his throat, not his heart pounding away in his chest, not the buzz of the lights outside with zaps as bugs flew into them. The city was never quiet where he lived. Now, it was only that shrieking so loud that his eyes hurt. Inhuman and layered and getting louder with every intruding step he took towards it.

He took his last heavy step by the coffee table and grabbed the mirror’s handle, watching as the black stain thrashed towards him when he did, and slammed it into the table. The wailing peaked, but he heard his own scream that time too. So he raised that mirror over his head and brought it back down with another shatter. Twisting and mixing with his own screams, the damn cursed shrieks turned so shrill that he felt it vibrating in his skull like it came from inside.

“Shut—up!”

The last time he slammed it down, shards of mirror burst out of the front to thrumming, muffled noises. Tom could finally hear himself breath. What else mattered? He threw the mirror down the hall to his bathroom and rolled onto his back to wait for his heart to slow the hell down. Tom was going to give Nate hell for this stunt. A shaky breath in and out, he let his eyes drift close...

And winced as his right palm ached. When he went to massage that soreness out, his hand went too far. Or he missed, he must’ve. The throbbing pain spread with a cold feeling and giving up, Tom opened his eyes.

Where his hand was, the black stain was growing. Fast.

“No, no, shit, no,” he stammered, scrambling into the bathroom to the sink. “Come off, come off!”

The water passed through his hand like nothing was there, coming through black and swirling down the drain.

“This can’t,” he faltered, rasping as that chilled feeling of nothing, nothing at all, crossed over his chest. When he tried to speak again, he made a shrill whine and nothing else. The black kept spreading, up his neck and down his arm, until Tom was calm and still. He watched himself dissipate in the mirror and felt nothing as the last of him fell to the ground.

The mirror, face up and absorbing any trace of a reflection, waited as what once had been Tom whispered and whined over the floor and to its new home.

——–

Read Night 1: The Warning

4 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Note

hi! absolutely love your writing <3 (also you write so much and so fast, w h a t, h o w) ummm 76 and 73 for the drabble challenge? (heart pirates)

Stitches (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: Blood Characters: Law, Penguin, Shachi

76) I think you need stitches 73) I like proving you wrong.

Aaah, hi! And thank you! (rl is mean so I’m employing the head-in-sand technique today which means all the writing... and people keep enabling me with more prompts, so thank you to everyone who is helping me mostly successfully distract myself from the disaster that is my degree right now)

Well these are classic Heart Pirate prompts. Poor Law is not going to be overly impressed, I don’t think... Lesse what muse makes of this. Some early Hearts, apparently.

Drabble Challenge: 1-150 (feel free to specify a fandom/character) - and don’t forget I’m also doing Send me ✨ and a character/ship for a songfic drabble

There was a crash from the kitchen and Law - slowly making his way there for breakfast - accelerated his pace. Crashes meant accidents, and accidents meant injuries, and it was quite frankly stupid to assume the idiots that comprised his nakama hadn’t got hurt.

In the months he’d known them, Penguin and Shachi had proven that they weren’t the type to shy away from things that might hurt. It was useful for training. Not so useful for stupid accidents.

“I think you need stitches!” Shachi’s voice was high with panic, and Law sped up a little more. “That looks deep!”

“What happened?” he demanded, slamming the door open to see both teenagers on the floor, surrounded by what looked like half the cooking equipment.

“Shachi was trying to get at the spare sugar,” Penguin explained. There was blood on his hand, which he was pressing against his upper arm firmly. “He didn’t get it.” A sharp glare got sent the ginger’s way. “I told you to ask Bepo.”

“Why was it up there in the first place?” Shachi snapped back, before turning to Law. “Penguin’s arm got cut by a falling knife. It looks deep!”

“Let me see.” Law picked his way carefully past the deluge of kitchenware on the floor. “Shachi, clear this up before there are any more accidents.” The ginger hesitated for a moment, but Law shot him a glare and he scrambled to do as he was told.

Under his scrutiny, Penguin slowly moved his hand from the wound and Law inspected it closely. There was a lot of blood, which no doubt contributed to Shachi’s panic, but it didn’t look too serious.

Still, it needed cleaning and dressing - and if Shachi was right, stitches. Law was inclined to think it wasn’t that bad, though.

“Infirmary,” he ordered, and Penguin nodded, carefully making his way to his feet and skirting around the carnage Shachi was still cleaning up. “Shachi, I want this kitchen tidy before you leave it. Penguin will be fine.”

His initial reaction was right, he determined once they were in the infirmary and the wound was cleaned. Glancing, not deep. No stitches required, although he did make Penguin wear a sling so he didn’t move it too much.

He was just finishing up when Shachi skated into the room, stumbling to an awkward stop and breathing heavily.

“No running in the ship!” Law snapped. Shachi nodded but Law was fairly certain he wasn’t listening.

“Penguin?”

“I’m fine,” the older boy said, standing up. “It was just a scratch.”

“But it needed stitches!”

“No, it didn’t,” Law interjected. “It looked worse than it was.”

“I like proving you wrong,” Penguin shrugged. “You said it needed stitches, so it didn’t.”

Law sighed, hoping they didn’t think that was what had actually happened - for a duo of injury magnets, their medical knowledge was dreadful. He’d started teaching them the basics, but it seemed like there was a long, long way to go.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #trafalgar law #penguin #shachi #heart pirates #drabbles #cal-cium-the-nerd #Tales from the Heart

22 notes · View notes

idkhyuck · 3 years

Text

24 Days of Christmas with NCT

IDK IF IM EVER NOT IN MY CHENLE FEELS THESE DAYS. So this is a little self indulgent

DAY 2 - ZHONG CHENLE

Chenle and Y/N cook a meal at his place for the first time and decorate his place for christmas.

warnings// like one swear, playful arguing.

I rang the doorbell my nerves distracting my from the pain of carrying all the groceries over on the bus. the door opened a second later to Chenle’s smiling face, his cheeks were rosy like he was running around him flinching slightly as there was the sound of something falling in the closet beside the door. i pretended not to hear it as i walked in.

“hi.” he said smiling shyly at me

“hey.” i said “i hope i got everything.” I said holding the bag up.

“OH!” he said grabbing it from me “Thanks!” He said running off into the kitchen. “i’ve already started some of the stuff.” he said distantly

“Some? how much are we eating?” i asked him i said shedding my coat and shoes onto the bench just before the kitchen.

“just enough for us. Jisung wants leftovers though.” He said sheepishly

“is he joining us, we could use the help decorating the tree?” i asked. We were going to put Christmas decorations up tonight as well.

“no, i told him i’d bring them to practice tomorrow.” he said stirring at the pot on the stove. I sat down to catch my breath, the wind was picking up the whole way here, it was really getting cold these days, i was certain we'd wake up to snow any day now. I took in the sight before me, Lele in his huge oversized sweatshirt, and joggers, his socks mismatched in his slippers. a dish towel hung over his shoulder. His hair standing up in different places in the back but you can tell he tried to tame it. I smiled at him he turned and caught me

“What?” he said

“you are the absolute cutest.” i said walking over to him. I wrapped my arms around him sticking my cold hands up under the front his sweatshirt. he squealed

“You’re hands will warm up if you start chopping” he said holding a bag of veggies to the opening of his sweatshirt. I kissed the back of his neck and grabbed them from him. He turned in my grip and wrapped his arms around me. placing soft kisses on the top of my head. i slowly looked up and he met my lips with a smile, a few small kisses. i sighed then pulled away

“i’d better get to work.” I said “Where’s the knifes?” i asked him as he quickly returned to his pot adding things slowly

“over there.” he said pointing his chopsticks to the drawer by the fridge. I opened it to see it was completely unorganized i couldn’t help the small smile that formed. I found a knife that would work for all my veggies and went over to the cutting board beside the stove. He was opening the meat and adding it to the soup base he has made. I got to work chopping hearing him singing softly beside me. It wasn’t long before i had quite a few piles of vegetables to add to our stew. I turned to show Chenle proudly but he wasn’t beside me i could hear him giggle behind me “is my baby done?” He asked in a teasing tone knowing i was trying to be cute. i nodded keeping the act up. he came over and looked over the piles praising them. Placing a kiss on my hand “Poor baby hand must be tired.” He said teasing. I shoved him. all nerves i had of being over at chenle’s house for the first time gone. His kitchen was small and cosy. He had fruit sitting in various spots on the counter, take out menus sitting in a pile on top of the fridge that had three magnets one held a picture of him and his mom and dad and brother. A picture of his nephew and a polaroid of us. His table and chairs were simple and so him it made me smile thinking of all the work he put into his place. I went and sat down as he put something in the oven. I watched as he added the final things to the stew. He came over and sat across from me "will you still be able to put up the tree? he teased

“You gonna give me a tour first?” i asked knowing we had some time. He smiled at me and nodded.

“this is the kitchen.” he said smiling “i didn’t decorate much.” he said quietly “But i like it.” He got up and grabbed my hand he led me into the living room. “This is my living room, I have my TV and Games all set up here. he said pointing to his entertainment console. My couch.” He said “which we can enjoy after we eat.” He said “it’s soft, i made sure of it.” he winked. "the tree can go here." he said as we walked by the window, he led me down his hall “The bathroom.” he said “boring, i just added towels and i didn’t even buy them, my mom did.” he laughed “This is the bedroom.” he said he opened the door and his piano was in the corner by the window he had sheets of music spread across the top. His double bed was half made, his bag for practice each day sitting on the floor by the piano. He had a TV mounted on the wall and a chair in the corner with a pile of hoodies and jackets on it. His bedside stand had a few bottles of water and a remote and a Bluetooth speaker and a pile of AirPods. he didn’t have much but it was so him it wasn’t even funny. He was a simple kid. "we decorating the piano?" i asked "maybe." he said "i'm worried i didn't buy enough." He said walking towards his closet, he pulled a huge box out "tree." then went back for two bags "everything else. OH AND LIGHTS!" he said running back down his hall, i heard a crash and him swearing then a door slamming. i walked out to see him standing by the closet in the door way. "i have like 5 boxes. is that enough?" he asked "should be." i said walking into the kitchen "don't worry." i said stirring his soup "this smells amazing." i said sniffing at all the things we had cooking, i could hear him dragging the box down the hall, tiny grunts and thuds coming down the hall getting louder as he neared the kitchen "need some help?" "nope." he said "i'm good." struggle in his voice evident. his dramatic ass flopping on a kitchen chair a few seconds later. "why did you drag it all the way there in the first place?" i asked him "i wanted to surprise you." he said smiling sweetly at me.

"i'm so full i could puke." he said a burp escaping him "Let's go watch something before we decorate." i said standing up and placing the dishes in the sink. "i'll do these before i leave." i said knowing he hates doing dishes we walked into the living room and sunk into his couch, i sat on the end he sat right beside me and took my legs onto his lap. He skimmed through his TV asking me what i wanted to watch we decided on watching the grinch. he was having fun doing a grinch voice he leaned over so he was laying me while hugging my legs, i played with his hair. we enjoyed the moment of laziness together.

"IT GOES HERE!" i yelled at him from the other side of the three "NO WAY, ITS FROM THIS SIDE." He yelled back "Give it to me!" i said "let me try it!" he whined "fine." i said sighing he tried to fit it in for at least 5 minutes before coming around to my side admitting his defeat i tried to hide my smirk as he handed it to me before grumbling off to get another section. It took us an hour and a half to fully set up the tree and have all the lights plugged into the right places, maybe it'd be less if we didn't argue half the time but it was finished. i was placing a ball on the tree when he tackled me over to his couch, He placed a few kisses on my cheeks and lips leaning over my softly "WHAT?" i asked him pretending to be annoyed at this point "you're too cute when your bossy." he said kissing my jawline and getting closer and closer to my neck i started leaning back to let him but he left a raspberry on my cheek then he giggled and started tickling me. i screamed in laughter as he held me down and went to town tickling my sides. i ultimately shoved him off and he landed with a thud beside me "yah!" he yelled but ended up laughing as he pulled a squished box of lights from underneath him i got up and pulled him up and pulled him in for a hug. "they're still good." he said giggling as he pulled the lights out of the box behind me. we spent the rest of the night decorating his living room there were lights all around. He stood back and admired the work we had done. i saw we had a few pieces of garland left, and a box a lights "piano?" i asked him "fine." he said and i ran down the hall with the decorations he sat on the bench as i sat on his bed ripping open the packaging. I wound the lights around the garland and tested the lights. He was softly playing all the Christmas songs he knew as i got to work lightly taping it to his piano and winding them around his candles. "see this will be so much better now." i said sitting beside him placing a kiss on his cheek as he transitioned from jingle bells to another song. the rest of our night was spent at his piano, with wine and candles lit in the glow of the lights.

#NCT #NCT dream #Zhong Chenle #Chenle #Chenle fluff #NCT 2020 #CHRISTMAS 2020 #NCT dream fluff #Chenle x reader #Chenle x y/n #Y/n

16 notes · View notes

eikhos · 3 years

Text

SINS.

Fandom : The Alienist.

Pairing : Laszlo Kreizler x Reader.

Rating : Explicit. 18+.

Warnings : Smut. Mentions of childrens murders.

Gift for my sweet @lazypeachsoul ✨❤️.

"Olympia had woken up early, like every morning, an old habit of her father who had been in the military. The poor man had gone completely mad after having been on the battlefield for too many years. She ran her fingers over her temples, feeling a headache looming over her.

She had mechanically prepared her breakfast, a bowl of porridge and a banana. The cup of coffee was swallowed up in seconds, burning his puck. Olympia looked at her reflection in the mirror, unlike many women, she had decided not to have domestic staff. She preferred her independence.

She had headed to the Kreizler Institute where her friend Sara Howard and John Moore were waiting for her. Sara was a childhood friend, the two young women had spent a lot of time together especially after the death of Sara's father, it was still a very sensitive subject, Olympia preferred not to mention it. She rubbed her eyes when she got inside the Institute and had to be careful not to jostle the children who were running in all directions, under the annoyed eyes of the staff.

Olympia arrived in Doctor Kreizler's office where Sarah and John were waiting for her, the latter squeezed her hand, Sara placed two kisses on her cheeks asking how her hand was, Olympia had accidentally twisted her right wrist while trying to lift an old crate in his attic. Olympia smiled and sat down on a wooden chair, Lazslo Kreizler was busy writing frantically on the huge slate, she pursed her lips.

The relationship between Olympia and dear Doctor Lazslo Kreizler was one of the most complex, let's be honest, for today's society, a working woman is something appalling. Olympia was not an Alienist, but she had studied medicine for a long time and was quite good at establishing psychological profiles. Her eyes did not leave the back of Doctor Kreizler's dark blue jacket who finally put down his chalk and turned to her.

-Miss. I didn't know you were invited, maybe it would be more polite to let me know if you wanted to break into my house like that, the Alienist blurted out, scribbling on a piece of paper.

-Doctor Kreizler, I was invited by Sara to help you in your investigation. I'm not here to get you in trouble. You have prestige, but that does not mean that I am useless.

This dear Doctor Kreizler narrowed his eyes slightly before starting to draw the portrait of the killer, several children from three to six had been found mutilated recently. Olympia's stomach had turned upon hearing the news, what kind of monster was capable of doing that? She sighed and smiled when Mary, one of Doctor Kreizler's housekeepers burst in with cups of tea, Doctor Kreizler thanked her with a nod.

They had drawn up - mainly Doctor Kreizler - the profile of the killer. The bodies found had been carefully mutilated, Dr. Kreizler had preferred the term sculpted rather than mutilated. The person behind these hideous murders knew how to use a knife. She rubbed her eyes as she stared at the three huge tables filled with sentences, words, numbers, terms of all kinds. Why ? This is the question that haunted Olympia. Why did a person decide to mutilate children? Trauma in the killer's childhood, perhaps?

Olympia stared at the clock who indicates three in the morning. Sara as well as John had already left but she had wished to stay, anyway, no one was waiting for her at the house. Kreizler had pulled out little round metal glasses from her pocket, she nodded as her brain gathered the information over and over again, the words, the pictures, it all spun around in her head, searching for meaning.

-I must admit that I am surprised by your temper, Lazslo blurted out, raising his head towards her.

She looked away from the board and then stared at it before nodding, a slight smile on her lips. She straightened her legs elegantly and approached the Alienist who nodded to the side as he removed his glasses. They were a few feet away and she could feel that aura of intelligence and confidence that emanated from Doctor Kreizler.

-Are you used to women getting on their knees for you, Doctor Kreizler?" Olympia replied, nodding her head.

- Could this be an unacknowledged fantasy about me? Do you see yourself on your knees with the lapel of your skirt revealing the pale skin of your legs?

-Oh, would that be a half-avowed confession of your dark thoughts, Doctor Kreizler? Would you like me to be on my knees in front of you?

She felt Lazslo's fingers tighten on the pencil next to her, olympia's eyes shining. he stood up slowly and walked over to her, slowly sliding a finger down her chin and then down her lower lip, she hardly swallowed. her recent fantasies were coming to the surface, but she just couldn't bring herself to be drawn to Doctor Kreizler.

They remained still, Lazslo nodded and went up his finger on the pulp of the lips of Olympia who could not help but let out a moan. They stared at each other, she felt the almost magnetic attraction of Lazslo Kreizler's body, she wanted to resist but she could also feel her lower abdomen contracting. She blinked before Lazslo gently pushed her against the surface of the nearest surface, the couch.

She fell onto the couch, Lazslo smirked and pulled her skirt up, a strangled moan came out of Olympia's mouth, she bit her lower lip as the Alienist meticulously rubbed the fabric of her underwear against her private parts. Olympia felt her breath gradually alternate, the friction of the soaked fabric against her most private parts was pure torture. Blood pearled from her lower lip.

-Kreizler .... Damn you.

-I'm already damned.

He smiled unhappily and then ended up stopping his little number. She groaned, suddenly deprived of all friction. Lazslo nodded, observing her before grabbing both sides of her cotton panties - very sebsuelle - and gently pulling them off. He stared at the young woman, she nodded to signal her consent.

He slowly ran his hand over her back and finished stripping her completely. She felt a wave of modesty invade her, it was the first time she was naked in front of a man. Lazslo slowly kissed the inside of her thighs, her lower abdomen and sprayed soft kisses on her chest before moving up to her neck.

-You are beautiful, Laszlo whispered against his neck.

She blushed and moaned suddenly when two fingers entered her privacy. What a strange feeling, thought Olympia who had never been touched there. She moaned loudly as Lazslo began to engage in a frantic rhythm with his fingers, applying light pressure to a specific spot on her female anatomy. A gasp escaped Olympia, who dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

Lazslo slowly withdrew his fingers then kissed her violently, she gripped the Alienist's hair who grabbed the button of his suit pants and pulled it down before doing the same with his underwear.

.-I presume that you have never had sexual relations before with a man? Lazslo asked with a slight smile.

-No, Olympia simply gasped.

Lazslo nodded, signaling that he would stop immediately at the first sensation of too much pain or discomfort, she nodded with a slight smile. Slowly, she felt the burn of the penetration, she bit the inside violently in her joy, stifling a moan of pain. The Alienist watched the expression on her face and then started to move after a few minutes.

The pace was slow, but it was also very pleasant. She gasped as she felt her body shake with pleasure, she gripped the fabric of Kreizler's jacket between her fingers and then let out a cry that tore out her vocal cords as the orgasm erupted inside her, feeling the seed of Lazslo releasing into her body.

She remained motionless for several minutes, it had been... Strange but very pleasant. Lazslo got up and put his pants in place as well as his jacket, then he stared at the young woman who was gradually coming to her senses. He gently grabbed her hand and helped her up as she put her dress back on. The Alienist smirked slightly.

-Would you be free, let's say, tomorrow night? I would like to invite you to dinner.

-Of course, Olympia stammered, blushing.

Either way, Olympia had discovered that Lazslo Kreizler was not such an inhuman man as he led everyone to believe."

#lazslo kreizler #lazslo kreizler fanfics #the alienist fanfics #the alienist

6 notes · View notes

mosylufanfic · 4 years

Text

Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Hail, @youareiron-andyouarestrong, I am your Secret Santa! Merry Christmas and here's your present! The prompt “WHO KEEPS HANGING MISTLETOE EVERYWHERE WE ARE” just made me giggle, so I wrote a goofy, fluffy, slightly pratfall-y 5 Times fic. I didn't use all your ideas for majors, but I definitely enjoyed hearing them. You said smut was okay, and while this is still T, it’s pushing the upper edge by the end. I hope you enjoy it, and that you have an amazing remainder of the Christmas season!

Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Cassian was stripping meat from bone with unsettling efficiency when Jyn walked in the kitchen.

"I can't believe you want more of that dusty jerky," she said, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter. "I've still got strings in my teeth." She picked her teeth with her fingernail to demonstrate.

"I'm making soup," he said, tossing a leg bone onto a plate and a few scraps of overcooked, dried-out turkey meat into a bowl. "Might as well get some good out of this bird."

"Ah," she said, reaching down for a carrot stick from the veggie platter that Han Solo, that cheap motherfucker, had contributed to their dinner. "Good idea. Do Americans really eat one of those awful things every year?"

"I think it's usually a little tastier." He shrugged, as unfamiliar with American Thanksgiving as she was.

A big noisy holiday dinner had been Bodhi's idea. Most of them in the elderly, rambling house just off campus were too poor to make it home over the break, and about half of them were international students anyway.

Add in some of the strays that Bodhi seemed to pick up like a magnet picking up leftover paper clips, and there had been enough people, and enough dishes, to make up for the dreadful main event. Jyn rubbed her belly and wondered if there was any of Bodhi's veggie curry left. Or the elote Cassian had made. Or the chocolate silk pie that their landlords Chirrut and Baze had brought. Her mouth watered.

A yell exploded from the living room. They both paused in what they were doing and exchanged eyerolls. They'd been booed down for attempting to veto the American football game on the telly.

"Call that football," Jyn said, and bit the carrot stick in half.

"Que chafa," Cassian said, shaking his head.

She laughed. "Man United is playing, too. Night game. Probably almost done."

"Since when do you root for them?"

"Watch your mouth, asshole, I'm rooting for whoever's playing them."

He smiled to himself, looking over at her. Suddenly his smile faded.

"What?" she said. "What are you staring at?"

"How long has that been there?"

"What?" She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and tried to use it as a mirror. "I got something in my teeth?" Fucking turkey. She'd taken a slice for politeness, even though it had required a gulp of water after every bite.

"No," he said patiently, "look up."

She craned her neck and squinted at the ceiling, almost directly above her. "That's mistletoe."

"Yes, I thought so too."

She lowered her gaze and met Cassian's, feeling her cheeks heat. "I didn't put it up."

He looked away, back at the bird he was still stripping down. "Neither did I."

Her lips tingled. She bit them, and made herself stop. "Someone getting ahead of themselves with Christmas decorations," she said airily, hopping off the counter and sliding past him.

He lifted his head. "Where are you going?"

"I - " She shrugged. "Dunno, my room or something."

He reached over and pulled a giant knife out of the knife block. "Here. Make yourself useful and chop some veggies for the soup."

"You're actually going to let me help in your kitchen?"

"It can't be insulted any worse than it was today," he said. "Leia Organa will be running the world one day, but she won't be feeding it."

"It was supposed to be her brother," she pointed out, taking the knife. "Just, his flight got cancelled and she insisted on doing it in his place. Why'd you let her?"

"Because I've never cooked a twenty-pound turkey before and I foolishly thought she had. Celery and carrots," he instructed, passing her the veggie platter. "Leave the tomato and broccoli."

"You still would have been salty if Luke had been cooking the bird," she observed, following orders.

"Yes, but we probably would have been able to eat it."

Jyn chopped up the veggies at his direction. When she was done, she leaned against the counter to watch as he performed culinary alchemy, combining seemingly random herbs and spices with the veggies and the remains of the turkey carcass.

"There," he said, covering it with water and setting the timer on his precious slow cooker. "Let it cook overnight and I'll add noodles in the morning."

She almost moaned. Turkey noodle soup while it was cold and rainy out sounded perfect. "Save some for me."

"Cooks' portion," he said and gave her a rare smile. "You make a good assistant."

"Great," she said. "A fallback in case the cybersecurity market goes to shit before I finish my thesis."

They washed the dishes they'd used, leaving them in the drying rack as the dishwasher chugged away at the dishes from dinner. It was comfortable and companionable and if Jyn thought of the mistletoe dangling above their heads about once a minute or so, she felt sure that Cassian didn't notice.

He nudged her as he was wiping his hands dry. "Want to come hang out in my room? Avoid the fake football?"

She felt the blush start somewhere in her stomach. She crossed her arms, smirking at him. "You hit on all your kitchen assistants?"

Behind his beard, his cheeks darkened. "What? I - no - I - "

Oh. Damn. Well. Fuck, this was awkward.

"I meant to watch the Cruz Azul game on my tablet," he said. "It'll be in Spanish."

She swallowed and attempted a joke. "What's the odds somebody's gonna trip over nothing, roll around like his femur is shattered, and get up five seconds later to jog off the pitch?"

"High," he said, sounding like their housemate Kay, who was going for his PhD in statistics. "Very high."

"Well, that's more like it. Yeah, all right."

Cassian rubbed his temples. He had a bitter headache and had just sent out a piteous text to the house group chat, begging for someone, anyone, to bring him a coffee.

He focused on the essay in front of him. "Alicia, I'd like to see you expand more on this point. You gloss over it somewhat. Professor Draven graded you down for that on your last essay, remember?"

The undergrad he was working with shook her mass of blond ringlets back over her shoulders and scooted her chair closer to his. Why, he couldn't imagine, because his office wasn't much bigger than a closet. "What do you suggest?" she asked.

Even though Alicia was in another section of Professor Draven's 202 class and thus had a different TA, she always came to see Cassian for help with her assignments. A lot of international students in the poli-sci department tended to find him, because of the number of languages he spoke. Alicia had been the most regular this semester, dropping by before every test and essay. Her heavy body spray, some kind of vanilla musk, filled his tiny office and intensified his headache.

He made some suggestions and she noted them down. "So what are your plans for Christmas?" she asked.

"Oh, I can't really afford to go back to Mexico for the holiday, so I'm staying here." He scanned along. "Now this conclusion is rather good, but it will only be strengthened if you expand on your earlier point."

"So you won't see your family? That's so sad, Cassi!" She put her hand on his arm. "My roommate and I are having a party after finals, before I leave for Berlin. Would you like to come?"

"Um," he said. "I - maybe we should get back to the essay."

A knock at the door interrupted him, and he looked up. Jyn leaned in. "Got a coffee," she said. "Want it?"

"Yes, please," Cassian said, reaching his hand out to take it. He took a sip. Three sugars, no cream, perfect. He smiled at her. "Do I owe you?"

"Your first-born, as agreed."

"Will you take a rain check?"

"No," she said, poker-faced, "I demand a baby right now. Make sure it's a nice plump one."

He chuckled and took another drink. His headache was already receding.

Alicia was studying them both, narrow-eyed. "Is that your girlfriend, Cassi?" she asked in German.

But it was Jyn who answered, in the same language. "Nope," she said, leaning against the doorjamb and slurping from her own takeout cup. Tea, probably, strong and sweet and milky. She was very English in that way. "Just his housemate and caffeine delivery person."

Alicia studied her for another moment, then shrugged and smiled. "Nice to meet you." She turned her back and said, "Can you tell me more about the parts in the middle that needed work?"

"Actually," Cassian said, handing her essay back, "I think we were about done."

"Oh - but -"

"I have to prepare for class," he said firmly. "Just work on those sections and it'll be an excellent final project."

"I still wanted to ask you - "

Even more firmly, he added, "I hope you have a good trip back to Berlin."

Alicia bit her heavily-glossed lip. "I'd still love to see you at my party. Here's my address." She scribbled on a piece of paper from her notebook and handed it to him. "Lots of fun, I promise!"

Cassian waited until she was gone to drop it in his trash can.

"Frequent flier?" Jyn asked, taking the seat she'd left behind.

Cassian shrugged, leaning over to crack the window. The air that rushed in was bitter-cold, but clean and fresh, chasing vanilla musk out. "She always wants a lot of help, but never really needs it. Her work is very good as is. I think she just wants reassurance." He opened a drawer and found a pack of crackers, offering her one.

Jyn took it and crunched in. "Or she's pursuing you."

He almost choked on his own cracker. "She's - I'm sorry?"

"She wants in your pants real bad."

"I'm sure she doesn't."

"I'm sure she does."

"She's just a very conscientious student, always works hard on her essays, arrives early for . . . office hours . . . " He trailed off. "Oh."

Jyn chortled into her tea. "Wake up and smell the perfume, Cassi."

He made a face. "Don't."

"Why not? Don't you like it?"

"No, but I've given up trying to correct her." He looked at his trash can, the party invitation taking on a whole different cast. "Hell."

"Not into it? She's pretty cute."

"No," he said. "And annoyed you had to tell me. I thought she just really liked international relations."

She patted his arm. "She probably does, but she's thinking of a whole different kind of relations." She looked up and froze. "And she's very determined about it, too."

"What now?" he said rather wearily.

She pointed and he looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from his ceiling. He squinted. "How did that get there?"

"Was she early today?"

"Yes, but how would she get it up there?"

"Was your desk rearranged?"

Now that he thought of it, his keyboard was a little off-center, as if it had been moved and then moved back, maybe when a certain blonde German undergrad had climbed up on his desk to hang mistletoe from his ceiling.

Jyn laughed out loud. "For a journalist, Cassian, you're not very observant, are you?"

"I blame the headache," he said, reaching up for the mistletoe. It eluded the very tips of his fingers.

"I got it," she said, stepping up onto her chair and then nudging the keyboard aside so she could climb on the desk.

"Jyn - !"

"I'm fine, I've got it," she repeated, stretching up for the mistletoe. She had to go up on her toes to get at where Alicia had taped it to the ceiling, and yank hard. "What did she use?" she grunted, "superglue?" She yanked again, and the sprig came free, knocking her off-balance. She took a step into thin air.

Cassian grabbed her waist. "Steady!"

She teetered, folded over, grabbed his shoulders, and they both froze. She shifted carefully, getting both feet firmly back onto the desk.

"M'alright," she said.

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

He became aware that his arms were wrapped around her hips and his face was practically buried in her - ah.

And he'd knocked both their chairs aside when he'd grabbed for her. They were just far enough away that he couldn't hook one with his foot and drag it over, not with their combined balances so tricky.

"I'm going to bring you down," he said. "All right?"

"Uh-huh."

He shifted his grip, stepped back, and for a moment her whole soft, curving weight slid down his front. Her boots hit the industrial carpet with a thump, and they both let go very fast.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her face pink. She snatched up her tea, which had miraculously survived the shenanigans, and backed through the door. "I'm just - I - see you at home, yeah?"

"No problem," he said, watching her go.

Jyn walked in, went directly to the couch, and faceplanted.

Some time later, she heard the door open and Cassian's footsteps on the creaky old wood floors. "Jyn?"

"Ungh."

"Are you alive?"

"No."

He sounded amused. "What killed you?"

"An all-nighter," she groaned into the cushions. "A bitch of a project. Bugs. Bugs everywhere. It's raining and I forgot my umbrella so I'm cold and wet, and I didn't eat lunch, and I may have to do my project over again because like I said, it was a bitch."

"Anything else?"

She considered. "My foot hurts."

"Well," he said. "I guess I'll just leave your deceased corpse there to rot. It'll be very smelly." He walked out again, creak-creak-creak.

"Nice," she mumbled into the cushions. "Spending too much time around Kay, that's what he's doing."

She considered getting up. Changing out of her wet clothes. Heating up some soup. She groaned again, and downgraded her expectations to getting her wet socks off.

She'd just chucked them to the floor - splat - and was attempting to burrow her chilled feet into the divide between cushions when the floors creaked again. Something thick and warm settled over her. She grunted and turned her head, rubbing her fingers against the fuzziness of the blanket. "What - "

"Just in case you might be revived," Cassian said, crouching by her head.

She smiled at hm, pulling her feet in under the blanket. They began to sting and prickle with warmth. "It is the season of miracles and all that."

His hair fell damp and soft over his forehead, and his shoulders were rain-spattered, so he must have come in just after her. He could have changed clothes or gotten his own food, but he'd elected to get her a blanket instead.

She wanted to reach out and brush her fingers over his beard. Would it be scratchy or soft? She wanted to run her hand down his throat and feel the motion of his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard.

His eyes flicked up and he frowned.

She pulled her hand to her chest, afraid she might have already been reaching out to touch him. “What?”

He pointed, and she twisted her head on the cushion to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the reading lamp parked almost directly above their two heads.

“What - “ she said, looking back at him.

They both realized at the same time how close their faces were, and he lurched back, almost butt-planting before staggering to his feet. “Anyway,” he said. “I’ll leave you to warm up.”

“Thanks for the blanket,” she said. “You want it back?”

He shrugged, backing away. “I have more.”

When he was gone, she pulled it over her head with a groan.

Cassian was grading papers from his section when Jyn found him in the library. "Just who I was looking for," she said, plopping down.

"Have a seat," he said absently, opening up the next essay that had been electronically turned in at the last possible second.

"Have you thought about Christmas presents yet?"

Who could think of presents when he had forty-two essays to wade through and an analysis of the effects of European colonialism on Egyptian foreign policy due in three days? But he set his stylus down and said, "No, why?"

"Because I found the perfect thing for Bodes." She called up a website on her tablet and passed it over. "Look at it. No really. Look. Couldn't you imagine Bodhi's face when he unwraps that?"

Cassian studied the bomber jacket on Jyn's screen. Buttery chocolate-colored leather with a shearling collar, warm and thick and stylish. "He would love it. But the price - "

"I know, I know. That's why I'm showing you."

"Even half the cost is a lot," he said gently. "My budget is candy canes this year and even then it'll be the cheap ones."

"I can math," she said. "And you don't have to give me anything. Look, the more of us get on board, the smaller the individual cost will be. If I blackmail Leia and sweet-talk Han and you appeal to Kay's sense of logic - oh, hey, have you got anything on Han? Because I'm not so sure about my sweet-talking skills."

"You have this all planned out, don't you?"

"Bodes has had a shit year," she said. "We can't send him back to London to see his mum and sisters, but we can give him something."

He bumped his stylus against his lower lip. “Chewie will be in no problem, so ask him first and he'll make Han do it. And go by the Philosophy department to talk to Chirrut and Baze. They're both teaching this afternoon."

She grinned at him. "Right, I'll just have to catch Chirrut after his capstone seminar but before Baze gets out of his 101."

"Good thinking." Baze was always grumpy after a section of his Intro course, mumbling under his breath about pampered babies who wouldn't know Aristotelian ethics if it bit them on the ass. "Just don't let them pay for the whole thing. I want in. And I'll see who else I can round up."

"You're the best," she said.

Two boys walked up, holding hands. "Hi, uh - "

Jyn leaned back in her chair. "Can we help you?"

"Are you guys using this table?"

"Uh, pretty obviously yeah."

"It's just that we kind of wanted to sit here."

"There's like a thousand other tables on this floor alone."

Although, Cassian reflected, none of the others were tucked away in a sunny corner behind bookshelves, private and quiet.

"I know, but - " The shorter guy blushed. "This one has the mistletoe on the window."

They both looked up. Cassian swore under his breath.

Jyn got up so fast she almost knocked her chair over. "All yours, lads," she said.

When Jyn told her about the mistletoe issue, Leia was supremely unsympathetic. "So? You happen to see some Christmas decorations sometimes, and sometimes you happen to be with Cassian when you do. It's December and we live in a society that pushes a yearly orgy of consumerism with the promise that - "

"Blah blah late stage capitalism, yes, I know, but," Jyn said. "It's getting out of hand."

Leia looked skeptical.

“I swear to you," Jyn said darkly, "that if Cassian comes along, a piece of mistletoe will materialize over our heads within twenty seconds."

"Confirmation bias," Leia said.

"Is not!"

"Is," Leia said. "Mistletoe as a decoration is ridiculously common. Look, there’s some above the door right there.” Leia gestured at the door of the Echo Base Coffee Roastery. “And no Cassian.”

“Give it time,” Jyn said.

Leia rolled her eyes. “It's not that the two of you are making it manifest, It's just that you're hyper-aware of it when you're with him." She smirked at her. "And why is that?"

"Because it's haunting us," Jyn growled.

"Because you want to kiss him so bad you're drooling," Leia said and bit into her scone.

“So what if I am,” Jyn said, and slouched in her chair.

Leia stopped mid-chew. “Wow,” she said. “You really want to if you’re not denying it. So why haven't you just laid one on him?”

“He’s so calm,” she said. “I don’t know what he wants. He’s impossible to read. What if I slap lips on him and he screams and runs?”

Leia arched a brow. “Unlikely.”

Jyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know what to do.”

“Slap lips on him, as you so romantically put it?”

“Nope. Avoid him until Boxing Day. You Americans rip everything down at 11:30 pm Christmas Day, and it’s like the holiday never existed. No mistletoe, no problem.”

“Yes,” Leia grinned, “but then it’s all Valentine's Day, all the time.”

Jyn’s face worked and then she huffed. “I’ll see you later.”

“You know I’m riiiiight,” Leia sang into her coffee cup, and Jyn made an obscene gesture. She stomped toward the door. Before she could grab the handle, it opened to reveal Cassian, Kay on his heels.

He stopped.

She stopped.

As if they’d practiced it, they both looked up at the mistletoe at the same time.

“Right,” Jyn said, pink-faced. “See you later then. Bye.” She nodded at their other housemate. “Kay.”

“Jyn,” Kay said, and stepped around her and Cassian both, announcing, “I advise you to get out of the way and permit the door to close. The wind is very cutting today."

“Right,” Cassian said. For a moment, he and Jyn performed a sort of awkward, shuffling dance as they both tried to pass through in opposite directions. Finally, Jyn was out, Cassian was in, and the door was closed.

Through the window to the left of the door, Jyn caught Leia’s eye. She pointed upward and mouthed I told you! Didn’t I tell you?! She was gesticulating so wildly she almost ran into a pole, and Leia made a dismayed sound.

Cassian looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, watching Jyn scramble out of sight. “Just got some coffee down the wrong pipe.”

He looked doubtful, but turned back to Kay. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Now do you believe me?”

“Confirmation bias,” Kay said, surveying the offerings in the pastry case.

Leia smirked into her coffee again.

Jyn turned in her last final on the Thursday before Christmas, and slept like the dead for fourteen hours.

She wasn't the only one. The house was full of post-finals zombies. When she shuffled out of her attic room and down the stairs in sock feet and ragged sweatpants, she found Chewie, eyes hidden behind his mop of hair, wandering around the second-floor hallway with a toothbrush in his mouth. "Done with the bathroom?" she asked.

He grunted, went back and spit out his toothbrush, came out, and grunted again. Interpreting that to mean all yours, she crawled into the shower and cranked it as hot as it would go. She counted herself lucky that she'd remembered to peel off her sweatpants first.

She felt more human by the time she snapped the water off and climbed out. The sweatpants went back on, but she promised herself that she'd trade them for clean clothes up in her room. Rambling out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her hair, she almost crashed directly into Cassian. "Uh," she said. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi." Shit, she'd said that already. She slouched against the doorjamb, hoping she looked incredibly casual and not like she was feeling self-conscious about being caught by him in her rattiest clothing. "How's the grading?"

"Turned in," he said. "You? How did your final project turn out?"

"All in. It's probably shit, but it's in."

"I'm sure it's not," he said.

She shrugged. "How's everyone else holding up? Does Bodhi still gibber when you say the words high pressure system to him?" Their friend's aeronautical meteorology class had kicked his ass.

"He's downgraded to whimpers."

Somewhere off in the distance, the doorbell rang, with the four-note sequence of the Addams Family theme. (Chirrut thought it was funny.)

Jyn ignored it. Someone downstairs would get it and she didn't feel like moving. "Well, that's progress. We should go out tonight or something."

"Us?"

She choked. "Uh, yeah, all of us here in the house. Big, uh, big housemate post-finals party. Alcohol and cake and - " Debauchery, she almost said, and changed it to - "Frivolity."

"Maybe pizza to soak up the booze and sugar," he said.

"Right, yeah, that sounds good." She grinned. "The Mill?"

"That's a good choice. Han's so lazy he refuses to decorate for Christmas, so - "

"No mistletoe," she said brightly, and just like that it was all awkward between them.

She thought of Leia's skepticism that she'd be able to bury all this after Christmas. Especially with Valentine's Day coming up.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and averted his eyes. "Jyn, I - " He choked on the rest of his sentence, staring at a spot just over her head.

With a certain feeling of inevitability, she followed his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe, hanging from the light fixture.

She dropped her eyes again and met his.

He said, "I still don't know who's putting those up."

"Me neither."

"At least in here," he added.

"Right. Yeah. The Roastery and the library were probably . . . some poor worker who's getting paid minimum wage to climb on a ladder and - " She felt herself rambling and hiked up her chin. "Look, it's five days until Christmas. We don't know why these are suddenly turning up around us but it's just making it weirder and weirder, so I say we settle the question."

"The . . . question," he said carefully.

"Yeah. Let's just kiss and get it over with."

". . . That question."

The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Neither of them moved.

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

He swallowed. She followed the motion of his Adam's apple down his throat and felt herself break out in a sweat, heat thrumming at all her pulse points. She wasn't sure when she'd decided she wanted to lick his neck, but she did, she did. Maybe some heretofore unsuspected infection of vampirism.

"Maybe we should," he said in a low rumble.

She unfolded her arms and rested her hands high up on his chest. Damn, he was tall. She tilted her head back to meet Cassian's eyes, sticking her chin out in a dare. Go on, then.

Downstairs, a babble of voices broke out. They could have been in the next zip code for all Jyn cared.

He put his hands to her waist, warm through her worn-thin Gerrera's Gym t-shirt, and leaned down. She shut her eyes just before his mouth brushed hers.

Dry, warm. Fleeting. Tendrils of agreeable heat began to curl through her belly.

Then he was gone.

She swallowed and opened her eyes again, feeling the tendrils of heat curl themselves into nothing.

Her body hummed with tension and dissatisfaction. Was that it? Was that little taste all she was getting?

Even though the light fixture and its stupid, stupid mistletoe was right above their heads, she couldn't read his expression.

She dropped her hands. "Okay. That's done, th-"

The last word was cut off by his mouth covering hers again. Her back hit the wall so hard the light fixture rattled. She ignored it, too busy winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him, kissing back hungrily.

This, now. This.

If the first kiss had been a taste, this was a five-course banquet. They devoured each other, tongues and teeth and lips and hands. His hands slid south of her waist, clamping on her ass and hauling her into the arc of his body. She whimpered and hooked one leg over his hip. He pressed her harder into the wall and licked into her mouth.

She gasped aloud when he left her mouth and started kissing her neck. Somehow, both her legs were locked around his hips, and his hands - Jesus, he had good hands. She felt like a volcano, all liquid heat inside and liable to go off at the slightest provocation.

"That's more like it," she said, and nipped at his ear.

"I've been wanting to do that since September," he said against her neck.

"So why didn't - ohhh," she groaned as his teeth scraped her skin.

"I'm usually very good at reading people. But I find you impossible to predict."

She grabbed his head in her hands and stared into his eyes. "Take me back to your room and fuck my brains out," she said. "How's that for a read?"

He rocked against her and demonstrated he had no problem with her proposed course of action. "Your room would be better."

"Yours is closer."

He kissed her hard. "I'm next to Kay."

"So," she mumbled into his mouth.

"He's asleep."

"So?"

"I don't intend to be quiet."

Oh. Oh damn. There went her last brain cell. "Right," she gasped. "My room it is."

Over at the Mill some hours later, Leia watched them snuggle in a booth with a little smirk.

She'd been keeping an eye on that, texting her brother with regular updates. Luke always liked hearing the gossip from her house, especially any news of a certain British-Pakistani aeronautics major. She'd always thought Cassian and Jyn had a certain similarity, under their wildly differing outer presentation. And of course they'd been thirsting for each other practically since they'd met. They made a cute couple.

The smirk turned into a blush when they started kissing and groping each other again. Okay, whenever they got over that in public, they would be a cute couple.

She turned toward the bar and the giant bowl of eggnog that Han Solo had rustled up. Call him what you like - and she did - he could pull a party together.

Bodhi was already there, pouring himself some. "Want one?"

"Absolutely," she said, leaning up next to him. "So - the mistletoe."

He ducked his head and made a sort of grunt.

"You were the one putting it all up in the house, right?" She'd noticed Bodhi decorating for the holiday as early as Thanksgiving morning.

"Yep," he said on a sigh, passing her a full glass.

She chortled and took a sip that threatened to curl her eyebrows. It was very strong. She blinked and shook her head. When her tongue had regained feeling, she pursued her line of questioning. "What, did you just get tired of watching them orbit around each other for the past few months?"

"Actually . . ." He looked down into his own glass. "It wasn't for them."

She sputtered out her next sip of eggnog. "Say again?"

He sighed. "I had a whole plan. Remember how Luke was supposed to come for Thanksgiving?"

"And his flight got cancelled, yeah."

"And then he was supposed to crash on our couch over break?"

"And then his advisor asked him to stay to work on some 'special project'?" She made a face. She wouldn't be forgiving Professor Yoda anytime soon for attempting to deprive her of her twin. "But - "

"Well, I figured if there was all this mistletoe up, it would be sort . . . of . . . romantic," he mumbled.

Her hand stopped. "Bodhi," she said, slowly and clearly. "How long have you been crushing on my brother?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to be creepy - "

"Of course you weren't," she said. "Just - how long?"

He shook his head. "It's dumb, it doesn't matter."

A voice from behind him said, "I'm interested."

Bodhi whipped around to see Luke standing behind him, face bright and hopeful. "What - you - when?"

"A few hours ago," Luke said. "I drove overnight. I was taking a nap in her room until just now." He toasted Leia with his beer. "She left me a text to come on over."

Bodhi was still goggling at him, the tips of his ears going brick-red. "But I thought - "

"I excused myself from the project. Professor Yoda's not too happy, but I don't care. So, uh, what was my sister saying? About you and mistletoe, and me?"

They wandered off, eyes only for each other, hands bumping. No need for mistletoe.

Leia laughed to herself and drank more eggnog.

"Hey, princess, look what I found!" Han leaned over the bar and dangled a sprig of mistletoe over their heads. "Pucker up."

She tossed her eggnog in his face and marched off, refusing to reflect on the not-small part of her that had been intrigued. It would take more than mistletoe to get her to lock lips with Han Solo.

FINIS

#Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #boy it's been awhile since I used that tag #university AU #modern AU #everyone is an overworked and slightly crazed student #fluff #star wars

161 notes · View notes

stillness-in-green · 4 years

Text

Shigaraki Birthday Week, Day 6: cake

If Magne wants cake, she’s going to have cake. That it’s a good team-builder is just icing. (Contains one extremely vague reference to Shigaraki’s backstory, but it’s not even the really big part. Otherwise spoiler-free through Kamino.)

———– ———– ———– ———–

Magne considers the facts thus:

-Kamino has got everyone a bit down. Lost the kid the boss wanted, lost the big boss, lost the hideout, their names are out there making their way around the wanted lists and the bulletins. Well, hers had been making those rounds already, but the League of Villains has jumped her up the charts the same way All Might retiring will do for that fiery Endeavor and the rest of the top ten.

-The boss has been working much too hard since Kamino. He started out moping, like anybody would if they lost a parent (or whatever it is that All for One was to him), but pulled out of it nice and quick and then threw himself into planning. Expand the group, find new safe spots, get that new power he sent Kurogiri after. It’s good that he’s keeping busy—being rudderless and adrift is just about the worst feeling there is—but overwork is a problem too, and with Kurogiri and All for One both gone, there’s no one in the group that can do much to talk him down.

-Her birthday is this weekend, and if she can’t spend it with her friends—what with being on the run from the police—she can at least spend it with her new group. And why not? Being at the top of the Most Wanted list, that’s a thing worth celebrating, and it’ll bring the group closer together. Working well together’s an essential part of pulling off a job, and with their numbers down—at least for now—they could all do with some team-building.

-She wants cake. And who doesn’t like cake? It’s a bit gauche to plan your own birthday party, but then, she doesn’t have to say it’s for her birthday, now does she?

…Fate is not feeling quite so amenable, unfortunately. Twice is reeling in a new recruit and Spinner’s laying low—the most recognizable in the group, poor thing, at least as long as he’s insisting on the Stain cosplay. Dabi’s playing Mystery Man instead of Mystery Date, worse the luck, and Toga’s still off on whatever errand she’s playing at that’s got her texting from a burner phone instead of her little cute pink one.

Mr. Compress, the dear, is completely on board. He also makes stealing a cake a complete breeze.

———–

“Do you think Shigaraki-kun is more of a chocolate or a vanilla person?”

“That’s hard to even contemplate, isn’t it? Well, if I were to hazard a guess between the two, wouldn’t it be chocolate? Isn’t vanilla a bit plain for a villain?”

“But there’s so much you can do with vanilla—what about one of those fruit cakes, with all the strawberry?”

“Strawberry seems more like little Toga’s preference, doesn’t it?”

“Then what do you think?”

“I prefer pastries, myself. One of those delightful French confections with more layers than a stack of bank notes.”

“Haha! That’s so you! Then how about cheesecake?”

“Might that be a bit rich for our dear leader?”

“He’s not that childish. And I’m not walking out of here with finger-food.”

“How about that one, then?”

“With all the powdered sugar? And him in all black? He’d never get it out!”

“Now who thinks he’s childish?”

“Childish or not, you know it’s Kurogiri doing their laundry.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s doing his laundry. Hmm. Perhaps this one?”

“Oh! Cute!”

“But not too cute?”

“No, that’s a good one. Let’s go with it.”

“Decision made. Then let the heist begin!”

“It’s already most of the way finished, isn’t it?”

“Let me have this, please.”

———–

Shigaraki knew they were coming. Mr. Compress had texted. He’s a stickler for details like that: you can’t expect to carry off a successful heist if you don’t work out the details, apparently. Shigaraki’s sitting against the wall waiting when they come in.

He didn’t know they were coming with cake.

It looks like an average-sized thing to him, not that he’s got a lot of experience, squared-off into ruthlessly clean edges that show off the alternating dark and cream layers. The top’s covered with a chocolate icing and drizzles of bright red glaze over the kind of “casual” arrangement of raspberries and blackberries and a couple of pale yellow macarons that means somebody with tweezers probably spent an hour agonizing over exactly how to put down every last piece of it.

He looks up from the cake to Magne and Mr. Compress, both of them staring at him expectantly—he can just sense it on Mr. Compress, even with the mask on.

“Is this a joke?”

“Rude!” Magne huffs, leaning her magnet bar against the wall, where it sticks to a pipe with a clang, and dragging over a crate to sit on. “Call it a housewarming present.”

“You must admit, our new surroundings could use the color.”

The color makes my eyes hurt, Shigaraki thinks, but that’s too petulant to say out loud, so he doesn’t. Instead, he opts for, “We’re not going to be staying here long-term.”

“Perhaps not, but we are here for now,” Mr. Compress replies amiably, pulling out a marble and materializing himself a very familiar chair.

“Did you steal that from the bar,” Shigaraki says, tone flat and disbelieving.

“At the time, I preferred to think of it as ‘reserving a seat.’ And now that the bar’s gone, it’s just salvage, isn’t it? I’m waiting for a chance to surprise Kurogiri with it, so keep it under your hand, would you?”

Magne tries—she fails, but she tries—to muffle an undignified snort of laughter; Shigaraki just glares.

“Shall I get us started?” the magician asks with a lilt of good cheer, and an outdoor café table complete with plastic tablecloth appears between the three of them. Magne sets the cake down and pops the clear plastic lid off of the box.

“This is stupid,” Shigaraki says, standing up.

“Why, because we don’t have utensils? Actually—”

“You brought a table with you; you obviously brought utensils too. That doesn’t make it less stupid.” He turns to go back to the trashed office he set up shop in when he and Kurogiri found the place. I don’t have time to play around like this. I’ve got to show Sensei I can—

“Honestly!” Magne’s voice is tart; when he turns to flash her a glare, she does—Good—flinch back. But after a few tense seconds, she follows up by sitting up straighter and jutting out her chin. “Enjoying the spoils is part of being a criminal, Shigaraki-kun!”

All right, it’s good that his League isn’t made of cowards, but this is still stupid.

“She’s quite right. And being on top means you get first cut.” Mr. Compress brandishes a knife that’s much bigger than anything you’d need to cut a cake with, especially the one they brought. “Won’t you show us how it’s done?”

Shigaraki pauses, scowling at his own hesitation as much as their familiarity.

“It’s good to let your followers do as they like sometimes, Tomura. If you enable someone’s happiness, you become associated with that happiness. In turn, your followers look for ways to return the favor. And just as moments of injustice can poison a mind, so can happy memories become totems that will drive people to their best efforts.”

Sensei talked a lot about how to handle followers, especially after he lost to All Might. Shigaraki got sick of hearing it, honestly, and it turns his stomach to have it come back now. But if I go back to the office I’m just going to stew on if I should have done it or not.

“Are the masks an issue?” Mr. Compress asks, and slides his own halfway off, blinking one warm brown eye at Shigaraki and giving him a sly grin. “I’ll have to take if off to eat, of course; so you won’t be alone. And we’re hardly in a position to take you to task for how you wish to present yourself to the world.”

Magne jabs him once in the ribs, looking unrepentant when he yelps, and smiles up at Shigaraki from her crate when Mr. Compress rubs his side and compresses his mask down to marble-size.

“Come have a bite with us,” she says, direct. “If only the heroes get to enjoy themselves, why even become a villain?”

“If you were going to pose rhetoricals like that, we should have stolen wine, too,” Mr. Compress complains, but allows himself to be shushed and begins setting out plates with poor grace but reflexive flourish as Shigaraki walks slowly back over to the two of them.

He stares down at the cake, trying to remember the last time he even ate something like this. A restaurant or something, right? Sensei took me out after the whole thing with the cruise liner.

The restaurant looked nicer than the crumbling plaster and the leaky pipes on the walls here. But he had to pretend to be normal there, and he itched the whole time. Just the memory brings his nails up to his neck, and he indulges the habit as he reaches up and gingerly pulls off Father.

Mr. Compress and Magne don’t even pretend not to stare; the former holds up his hands disarmingly when Shigaraki meets his eyes, but the latter just tilts her head, taking in the sight of him.

“You know, at this point I was expecting worse?” She laughs to herself and hands him a plate. “Come and eat.”

She didn’t turn away. It pulls at something inside him, a memory of people’s eyes finding him and then sliding away like he was one of those yokai that would follow you home and rip you to pieces if you made eye contact.

Huh. Sounds nice.

He slides Father into his pocket and takes the plate.

He doesn’t end up finishing the cake slice.

…But he does take all the macarons.

#shigarakibirthdayweek #shigaraki tomura #bnha magne #mr. compress #sako atsuhiro #my writing #boku no hero academia #bnha #ficcing

30 notes · View notes

somerandmomsloth · 4 years

Text

Republictale Chapter 2

Alphys was looking out the window, she was thinking about the incident at the mountain. Monsters and human scientists had been hearing reports of a ominous flashing lights. The light was foreboding , it was very bright and pinkish. No one knew what it was since no one had been able to find what was giving off the light. So Alphys and her colleagues decide to send a group of 152 scientists went to the mountain with armed guards by their side. Alphys had stayed behind and watched live feed being broadcasted by the scientists. She thought about the constant arguments. Some scientists thought this light could be used as a resource to boost the economy. Others thought it was some sort of accidental spell that may have gone off and caused the lights. But while Alphys was thinking about all of this she heard over the live feed a crackle, “I see the glowing lights. I’m picking up high levels of radiation and hate magic” The light got brighter on the feed, “What the hell?!” she heard a scientist yell. She watched in horror as the wind began to pick up and a gust of dirt and twigs swept toward the scientists and their trucks. Monsters were mangled by the trees and rocks that fell and hit. One scientist got hit by a corpse of a buck and was horrendously impaled by its antlers. Around that time when her live feed died she switched over to the news on her t.v. She continued watching the news as the explosion and the loud noise had drawn out reporters. She watched as a piece of the mountain was deeply cut and a landslide took off. It came crashing toward the city, carrying the scientists and forest with it. The piece of the mountain that had broken off had crumbled down onto a school killing a handful of teachers and over 100 students. Additionally, 126 drivers and passengers got hit by the incoming landslide. When the news reporters got to where her fellow scientists were, they reported that one hundred of the scientists survived, 52 died, and 12 were seriously injured. Alphys’ eyes jumped to a picture of Undyne and herself that was sitting on her desk. She began worrying and hoping that Undyne wasn’t somehow involved with this disaster. Alphys was extremely worried and concerned. Whatever the pink light is, it had to be destroyed.

She started getting nervous. “Was this my fault… could I have done anything differently? Could I have helped them? Should I not have stayed behind? Why did I stay behind, was it because I’m too weak?” These thoughts haunted her. She massaged her temples, she couldn’t help but feel as if this failed mission was her fault.

“Well, I guess I will take a break from this controversial chemical that was just discovered.” She switched off the tv and took a break to consume some ramen. Despite the warmth of the ramen, she still felt dreadful. As soon as she finished the ramen she spotted, yet again, an old photo of Undyne and Sans. Her mind wanted to stop looking at the photo, but she continued. She first thought Sans, who was one of her childhood friends, he had met him when she was assigned to be his father’s apprentice. They had become friends and he was the one who introduced her to Undyne when Undyne came to visit the laboratory. While noticing the photo she banged her head against the refrigerator with rage and guilt.

Undyne was sitting in her bedroom, she felt sorry for the poor child she had met by the river. Her mother slowly opened the door and came into her room, “Undyne, food is ready.”

“I’m not in the mood” she responded.

“I know you had that incident at the playground with that… your new friend, what’s his name?” “SANS, his name is Sans mom!” She replied grouchily and then started crying, “why does it seem like you don’t care?”

Her mom takes a few steps towards her and tries to give her a comforting hug. “I know this hard for you. But please just be careful, you know that the boy came from the lab where your dad….” before she could finish Undyne interrupts her with a stuttering voice.

“But mom, who knows what they’re doing to him! He could be a monster from down the street. He could be in danger! Plus, dad was up to some stuff in there before he died.”

“Undyne, your friend is an experiment, OK. Undyne please, don’t go to the lab. Don’t.” “Well screw you, if you want to live in this trash.. and you don’t want to learn about the person responsible for dad’s death then stay. If you’re fine just sitting on your sorry ass here then FINE, JUST STAY!.” Undyne rushed through the house, kicked open the front door and dashed off. A couple of miles later, she finally made it to the lab. Undyne knocked on the front door of the laboratory. It slid open. The doctor who pulled Sans back opened the door. “So you’re the little brat I saw at the playground, aren’t you”

Undyne, “Yeah you motherfucker”she tried pushing past him. He held the door firmly in place. “Listen you little shit, don’t talk to me like that.” She kept pushing, “You know this is a government facility.” Sans’ so called father said smugly. “DO you want me to tell everyone that you’re responsible for my dad’s death?” The doctor shuddered in fear, “what do you know about that”. His hold on the door relaxed for a second.

“I know that my dad always came home with this lab coat on. The last day before he died he looked stressed and worried. Plus when I heard about him dying, I started asking around town. Until I finally found someone, who was witness, he saw my dad’s death. He said he saw someone in a cloak push my dad into the lava. And you have a cloak on.” She looked him up and down as she finished.

The doctor looked down at her in anger, at the same time his grip on the door relaxed. He had begun to think about the consequences if she told anyone,“fine, you can come in”.

She walked in and saw that there was a yellow lizard and the yellow lizard was talking to Sans. The doctor said, “Alphys this is the girl that Sans met when he escaped. Isn’t that right little girl?”

Undyne responds to him, “yep”, then she turns to Alphys and said friendly said “HI!”

Alphys, “Hi who are you? What’s your name”

“Undyne” she smiled and coyly placed her hands behind her head.

“How did you get in the lab?” “Oh, it’s a long story but let’s not talk about it now.” She grabbed her hand, “show me around”

Alphys blushed and stuttered in surprise, “uh sure. Sure”

While walking with Alphys, Undyne found her father’s joke book on Sans desk and goes, “Sans why is this on your desk?”

“Oh I like this book, it contains something I’ve never heard about before. They’re called jokes. It really laughs me to the bone.

Undyne double overed and laughed, “Oh my god, that’s my fathers jokebook. Oh you’re going to love those jokes.”

Alphys asked, “So Sans how old are you?” Sans responded “12”

Undyne replied “Oh I’m 12 too!”

Alphys shyly speaked up, “I’m 11”

“You’ve can’t be serious, she’s the only one who is younger than us” Alphys looked down with embarrassment.

Undyne, “I’m just joking, it’s ok that if you’re younger than us!”

Then Alphys asks, “Uh Sans, do you want to play some UNO”

“You’ve played Uno before” Undyne asks Sans.

“Uh yeah”

She remembered how magnetic Undyne was. She was charismatic, bold, and friendly. It was easy to get along with her. Those feelings of friendship later turned to something else… Instead of dwelling on her feelings for Undyne, she shifted her focus back to Sans. He worked in the New Capital now, but she couldn’t help but also worry about him after the mountain atrocity. The catastrophic event made her remember the event that first gave her feelings for Sans. It had happened a few days after meeting Sans and Undyne.

After she exits the lab she spied a couple of kids from her school approaching her. One of them was a skinny rabbit with a scar between his eyes. The other was a dark green crocodilian creature with sharp reptilian eyes.

The closer thug, who was the rabbit, said, “Hey kid, I see that your mother has assigned you a special job. Why don’t you hand over the payment to us?” one of the thugs demanded threateningly. “Come on” he pointed a knife near her face, “why should you have all this money? Your mother is drunkard, why should you be an apprentice? You know, you could become a drunkard like your mother.”

“No. Can I just please go home? I need this job. You could maybe find a better job. You know you could always try to join the Royal Guard” she squeaked.

“But the Royal Guard doesn’t accept folk like us.” The other reptilian monster growled in a brutish voice. He grabbed her and threw her against the hard brown ground. After she hit the hard ground her glasses fell off and then he roared at her,

“If you’re not going to give it to me I guess this is going to go down the hard way.” He started approaching her. Alphys was slowly backing up looking for her glasses. The rabbit started put his knife in his back pocket and then smoothly began pulling out his pistol from behind him. But then suddenly Alphsy started to notice a figure opening a door behind her. Then six bones appeared out of the ground. Popping up quickly, the bones stopped the thug who was about to shoot Alphys. His bullet had gotten stuck in between the bones. He cried “who is doing this”. Then he notices his soul has turned blue. Then he feels himself getting yanked across the ground and noticed Sans looking at him.

“What are you doing. Why are you hurting one of my friends.” Sans yelled angrily as he drug the thug across the ground. As his skin was getting ground by dirt and gravel, the rabbit responded with fear and confusion, “Look man I don’t even know who you are. Can you just put me down?” Sans looked down at him with disgust, “Tell me why were you trying to shoot her?” The rabbit stammered, “oh you saw that” and he tried to grab his pistol, but Sans was too quick. He drug the rabbit across the hot and rocky ground and then tossed him into lava. The thug screamed in horror as he felt his clothes and then his skin burn around him. Meanwhile, the reptile screamed in horror, “Henry!!!” as the rabbit melted into the lava. The reptile tried to take deep breaths to calm down as they all watched as the rabbit was dissolved by the fiery lava. The reptile yelled, “You son of a bitch! You killed my friend” he ran toward Sans with his fists in the air. But Sans reacted quickly and smashed him into the ground. After making sure he wouldn’t get up again, Sans slowly walked over and asked, “Are you alright? Why did they try to hurt you?”

Alphys slowly looks up to him her eyes shining with wonder and admiration, “I’m fine” she said breathily. Sans gave her a hug. She remembered this first moment as something that made her attracted to him.

#undertale #fanfic #au #sans x undyne #undyne x alphys #alphys x sans

2 notes · View notes

cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years

Text

athenas or the new ign videos... hmmm

im gonna go for the ign videos (moze gameplay and sanctuary-iii, no guns yet, i have a reason for that) because athenas hasn’t gotten its sweet instagram video yet. once that’s released i’ll do a full post on it. by the time i got around to finishing this post, they had released the video. oh boy... gonna do the gun post then the athenas post, i think. alright, off we go.

tl;dr: we read the entire end user agreement DAHL thrusts upon us for using the ECHO device, talk about some stuff like how (spoilers) it seems like Lilith will be getting her powers back at the end of the game, and a voice line Lily says that sounds like “Tyreen took my powers. it’s like Tannis said: [inaudible] Siren” (altho im not 100% sure on the [inaudible] part because 1) it sounds weird and 2) there’s a drum beat and also the devs are talking over her, the Siren part seems fairly accurate because of the way her mouth moves). so you know. im gonna be agonizing over that until i can hear what she says. ive already spent an hour just repeating it over and over. i nearly fell asleep lol

we’re gonna start with the moze gameplay (the first 14 minutes of bl3) because chronologically it’s first in both timeline and release date

i love the license plates on the right there

also it looks like they added in claptrap’s old welcome sign from windshear waste! time to stand in front of it for 30 minutes to see if any messages pop up like bl2

fast travel station as well, definitely going to see if/where i can teleport and going there immediately. i imagine this is more for DLC stuff and grinding tho.

also! i do believe we saw Covenant Pass previously. good to know this is actually where it is!

Marcus saying “And Welcome to Pandora!” in the beginning confirms that, yes, they’re going to be on a bus!! i wonder if there will be a fight scene before that though. it’s interesting Clappy mentions that “those jerks who tried to murder you are the children of the vault!” so i mean... there’s gotta be... right?

im also convinced this intro is going to be a mirror of Borderlands 1. i stg if it starts out with the first few notes of Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked and then swaps songs I’m going to lose my mind

also also, the order is totally going to mimic the bl1 one. Fl4k = Mordecai, Amara = Lilith, Moze = Roland, Zane = Brick. We even have Lilith taking Angel’s spot as the mysterious voice in our heads, and probably Marcus driving, AND being dropped off at a bus stop.

bet the reason they changed it from ‘Moze as the Bot Jock’ to ‘Moze as the Gunner’ is because it fits under ‘Roland as the Soldier’ better. Also, ‘Zane Flynt as Himselfs’ would be a play off ‘Brick as Himself’. Amara as the Siren is obvious, and ‘Mordecai as the Hunter’ vs ‘Fl4k as the Beastmaster’ is pretty similar as well, given Fl4k has all those Hunter skills.

the 4 basic emotes im guessing. im so glad we have the option to boop our friends in the face with emotes.

also moze’s little bunny skin is adorable

the ECHOnet used to be called “Riftspace”, “the Spline”, and... “MercTel: A Cyber-Dahl Joint” lmfao

specifically calls out Pandora. also, “artificial megastructures”??? THAT’S SO COOL

AND FUCKING

SENTIENT MEGASTRUCTURES????

gearbox. please. i have never ever wanted anything more in my life. please. it’s probably my birthday. PLEASE GEARBOX

also interesting that the user agreement specifically notes ‘Respawns’. I assume this is a joke because New-U stations have been confirmed not canon

“Core law”. Core law? Core... daddy? ... ????

core as in like a core government somewhere that’s not the border worlds? that’s interesting...

“The Legion”, okay, acknowledging TPS, that’s dope

“Project Blackrakk” ... im interested

“Thresher Company” lmao

im curious if Axton was apart of any of the mentioned ones. i don’t think it’s been stated, but i could be wrong

“Chieftain Oort”. also ‘Recently Legless Gary’, lmfao poor dude.

oh yeah im sure this is fine. also holy shit did they google the synonyms for ‘change’ and just start listing them? lmfao

“implicit subscription to the Digby Vermouth ‘Dig’s Gigs’ secret concert subscription service”

sorry, what?

if this doesn’t come up again in the future- if we don’t get a spam letter or 3 in our mailbox about this concert subscription thing i'm gonna be so disappointed

Dahl hates you if you’re not a fan of hyper-jazz, “you snob” lmfao

my brain hurts, they’re good at writing these

damn phones exist? i thought everything was ECHO. aight, that’s good to know. i guess there just aren’t any phone networks around the border worlds

also “shared dreamspaces” sound really cool

hm. that’s no good lmfao. also i love that the buttons are ‘Agree’ and ‘OK’. there is no escape, once you agree, you can’t even leave because you’re agreeing that you’re trapped with these rules even if you cancel.

that’s fucked up, DAHL. can’t believe you treat your user base the same way you treat your employees. i guess i shouldn’t be surprised.

anyway, shoutout to literally the only TOA I’ve ever fully read in my life.

also, clicking through this TOA too fast WILL end claptrap’s voice line early. so be careful if you want to hear what he has to say!!

oh shit lmao I gotta go edit that Fl4k post

ok im back ~time magic of being able to save things in drafts and post them at a later date~

sliding preserves momentum, so you can actually slide (nearly) the entire way down! i love this.

small, but claptrap bends his antennae when trying to be stealthy. i thought that was a pretty cool detail

“and some guns include an alternate shooting mode~! try it out!”

player: `immediately shoots claptrap in the face`

i died lol

a very nice look at this sign.

good to know that the twins really are tempting people to join with promises of food. i mean it makes sense, i imagine most of the cultists are desperate for stability and a reasonable life on pandora.

also, Shiv calls himself “holy influencer of the children of the vault” lol. i love that. gearbox really is going for the internet’s throat, isn’t it?

i do like that hovering over an NPC will give you their name only and not name/healthbar.

a better look at one of the signs referencing the Mother!!! i was waiting for this, the only real look we got at one was in that one scene with Moze and IB

“Behold the Mother strength surrender to the truth”

yeah that’s not ominous...

i assume the mother and father are intended to be tyreen and troy? but idk how i feel about that implication...

i like the new little gear/spring effect for the magnet lol

new lilith! i know a lot of people don’t like it, but i do. she looks better than the bl2 vers. altho i think it’s weird they swapped both bl1 and bl2′s ‘AI’ effect to those dots and then didn’t bring it to BL3. the dots effect felt cleaner. curious why they’re not applying it to bl3 when they went thru all that effort in 1 and 2.

... back up please.

i like that there is a changing icon for long pressing now

“time to check out our slay of the day!” sounds like Tyreen but tbh i legit thought this was moze’s reaction to opening the chest at first lol

you can hear someone start screaming in agony while she’s walking up the stairs, so i know it’s not moze, but im so used to the VHs talking when they see a new piece of loot my brain just assumed.

also THE MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND IS A REMIX OF BANDIT SLAUGHTER!!! IM SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS I WAS FREAKING OUT THE FIRST TIME I HEARD IT

also, claptrap when dropping health yells “this could save your life! then, you’ll owe me a life debt!” bullshit im pretty sure you already decided we owed you a life debt the moment we stepped off that bus

“i see it... the great vault” - a line from a cultist you kill

i know i mentioned in this post that the Great Vault may be already opened, but it could also just be a Vault they’re planning on opening and using the propaganda to convince the cultists to help them find it.

“if you help us get this vault open, you’ll be handsomely rewarded! you’ll get superpowers! you’ll get regular meals! you’ll get money and guns and dates!” you know, the usual stuff.

either way, elevating the Vault to a higher state (god/heaven/whatever) makes sense if you’re running a cult.

btw there is a hidden chest in the scaffolding to the left of the door, if you’re interested in grabbing some better guns before shiv. personally, i’ll be using the toy guns.

also the TVs are actually playing propaganda now!!

this one is asking questions that i cant understand due to the sound effects of the chest and claptrap talking, but it says something about “... the dust? ... join the Children of the Vault!”

“hey shiiiiiv all your dumb friends are dead!!”

shiv be like

“all my friends are dead”

some cool level-up art! I notice these are the same pictures as used on the japanese site. i wonder if they change depending on which VH you’ve picked (If you’re playing Amara/Fl4k, do you get pics of Amara and Fl4k? the player is playing moze, afterall).

also also “it’s a KIA on the knife wielding maniac. suuuper dead.”

it’s cool that the VHs have specific lines for the deaths of bosses. i hope that continues and it’s not just a ‘15 min of intro gameplay’ thing. you know, where everything is super detailed in the beginning and then slowly gets less and less as the game progresses? anyway, moze’s little chuckle is fuckin adorable lol

ah. the door closes now so you can’t even explore Shiv’s room before Lilith shows up. gearbox plS you know me too well, i was looking for a g l i m p s e

claptrap’s voice line for getting released is SUPER off time, he hits the ground before going “you did it! i’m sa-ahhhhhhhh!” it’s weird, wondering if that’s just a glitch.

also also we get a nice listen to the revive ally sound. i could’ve sworn it wasn’t in the first look at this mission we got, because i heard it for the first time during the coop Zane/Amara gameplay on Promethea. i might be wrong, tho.

im very curious what these symbols are claptrap is beaming up

i mean you know what im gonna say

they look eridian

and they do

so wtf clappy why u beaming up eridian letters to Lilith

i assume maybe Tannis gave clappy some weird upgrade or something so he could communicate with the crimson raiders without the CoV listening in? it could be that Tannis or someone is decoding this message since Tannis does know how to translate Eridian (as shown in her bl1 ECHOs)

... or at the very least she gave Lilith a translator

the darkening makes it so that you can see the crackening. also this COULD just be a beam that lilith can see from wherever she is, but i want to believe there’s more eridian stuff. bc eridian stuff is fun.

this is so fu cking crisp im dying i love it

lilith’s tattoos spreading down her fingers

same symbol as her chest tattoo. maybe the symbol denotes new powers? like how lily has one on her chest for phasewalking, and a new one on her hand for teleportation

i love how her wings look like actual fire. i fucking love this

lilith is looking so fucking good in the new engine

im glad they got rid of her super red eyes, tbh it looked a bit weird

i think they are really pushing her fire affinity, im sure we’ll see Maya has an elemental affinity as well (im calling corrosive) and im sure Tyreen will too (slag). Amara looks to be Shock because that’s her ‘default’, but who knows until (if) bl4 comes out. but corrosive wings on maya would look SOOO fucking cool. please. please please please.

god she looks so good compared to bl2. i love how the tattoos softly glow in the dark, too. i gotta play this mission late in the day...

“you’re... the voice in my head, right?” i love this so much, i really hope my shitpost comes true.

lilith gives you a grenade mod for completing her mission! im really glad they are PUSHING through the tutorial/intro so you can get right into the game. bl2′s ‘intro’ of all these tutorials was brutal. especially waiting to unlock your action skill.

in 3 you get your action skill automatically at level 2!!! which is insane, i love it! they’re jumping right into it, it’s great. and they seem to be pushing for you to get all the stuff you need right away.

it’s curious to note that in bl3 we get our class mods at the end of the Promethea demo (after Gigamind), since in bl2 you get your first (usually?) after the hunting the firehawk mission and both seem to take place immediately after we get to the ‘base of operations’ of the game (Sanctuary vs Sanctuary-III).

yep that quest is 100% in line with the quest marker.

i imagine From the Ground Up may be discovering where the Vault Map/Key actually is? maybe bringing people to the Recruitment Center (notably Tannis)

for this scene. i hope this takes place after the HBC, because i seriously... can’t imagine the twins showing up, taking the Vault Map, bringing it to the HBC, and then NOT taking Lilith’s powers/trying to kill Lily and accidentally taking her powers. it just doesn’t make sense, Vault Hunters be damned, we are level 2 they could melt us easy peasy.

If anything, it feels like we COULD find the Vault Map in the Recruitment Center, Tannis tries to activate it/fix it, we find out it’s mega broke, and then the Sun Smashers show up and take it. but i seriously can’t imagine Lilith nor the new VHs allowing that to happen while they’re still there. maybe if Tannis sends us to do something while Lilith is gathering other CR members? then it could make sense if they attack while Tannis is alone with the Key...

we end up finding something in Shiv’s room that shows/helps us realize the Sun Smashers bringing the Vault Map to the Calypsos. tho this would mean the quest From the Ground Up is SUPER short and I imagine it’s not. Maybe we raid a camp of theirs like the one in front of Sanc-III with the bridge/ramp? We need to be about level 6 before we go and we start From the Ground Up at 2 so there’s obviously something DEEP we’re missing here. maybe this is a mission where we go gather the other Crimson Raiders? HMMMMMMMM...

.... oh.

nevermind lmfao

she opens her ECHO immediately after this LOL i feel kinda dumb now

raiding their camp it is! the Droughts sounds like a fun location. Very much like the dust. you guys think there’s a Shade situation going on there? i’m excited to see it. Still think we’re going to use Shiv’s room to get that lead, though. i just really wanna watch tv lmfao. i hope this means the bandits run from the camp to the HBC, or we find info that the bandit warchief sent a party to the HBC with the Vault Map. either way, i just don’t want the twins showing up until after the HBC or i will have so many questions. “why didn’t you kill lilith?” being the first. “the god queen wants her head!” ur goddamn right she does, so why doesn’t she (try to) kill lilith???

85% already?! hot damn

also

that’s one badass description there, Moze

also also

while having gun slots locked is pretty normal, im surprised they’re locking class mods and relics, too! i wonder when we’ll be able to equip relics. maybe when we first go to eden-6 or smth. or maybe after we meet up with Rhys. shit maybe he’s just handing us an artifact (im gonna interchange these a lot, sorry!) in that Promethea video lmfao

“ready to chuck some boom and frag some maniacs” lol moze i love you

if you’re playing Zane... `equips grenade mod for checkmark` `immediately equips second action skill and never actually uses grenade mod`

“it’s the firehawk! the god queen wants her head!”

like i alluded to before, i would not be surprised if Tyreen doesn’t know she can absorb Siren powers... when she goes to succ lilith in front of Sanctuary-III, it’s totally possible she actually was trying to kill her. That could explain why she looks so intrigued at her hand like “oh shit okay lets see what this can do”

might be why she was okay with sending her cultists after her instead of showing up herself.

“alright, we got a foothold. maybe things are turning our way. come on killer, you’re with me” we are going to explore the SHIT out of shiv’s room.

alright alright alright

let’s move on to the Sanctuary-III stuff

yessss

i love the quest objective thing, it looks like we will be able to swap through our quests with the push of a button! also im curious why exactly we’re going to promethea right away. i wonder if the twins say something about moving there after getting the vault map/lilith’s powers, or if we hear from rhys. im expecting something about the vault map, since our vh will admit they don’t know rhys at all when talking to lorelei. but for some reason we need to be within the city limits? since lily says ellie got us within the city limits.

hmmmmmm. okay, okay, maybe the map was trying to lead us to promethea for vault reasons during that short amount of time that we had it and it was working. maybe promethea is what we see when tannis is activating the key during that one cutscene? ohhh shit how dope would it be if we got that fucking easter egg message? omg “Children of the Vault. Come to Promethea. We are not on Pandora anymore. Tannis is not what she seems. Do not open the Vaults.” and everyone is like ‘uh did that thing just mention Tannis by name??’ and now it’s REALLY important to get the map back just so we can figure out wtf it’s trying to tell us.

i will question how ‘Tannis is not what she seems’ would affect character relationships, especially if it’s said so early in the game. so perhaps we only hear the first part of the message. maybe it’s corrupted because it was recently broken. iunno. just playing around with ideas. the canon of this game is like flarp putty until sept. 13th

anyway moving on because this is literally the first f r a m e of the video

i like that you can see pandora’s eridian scar. if the destroyer is speaking through eridium to people, it’s gonna bust outta the side of this planet like you wouldn’t fucking believe lmao. eridium is a window to the soul and if you stare long enough into its glossy, shining sides, the destroyer stares back

that or it’s just like a beacon, slowly spreading its influence across the universe. but i like the idea that the destroyer can waltz out of a big enough hunk of eridium. so it will bust out of pandora’s eridium scar. F in chat for pandora but also lmfao the amount of tentacles and rage would be unparalleled.

reality is that the twins are probably farming this scar for eridium to turn into slag for multiple purposes. like brainwashing their cultists, giving them powers, and ensuring their guns have their manufacturer’s quirk (im getting to this in my next post bc im just gonna compile all the ign gun videos into one big post)

the floor art is different from the actual sanc-iii demo. i mention this first in my behind closed doors panel analysis, but im gonna mention it again because this is ~official~. the floor list on the first walkthru of sanc-iii we got had the names of all the crimson raiders and lines leading to their shops. so we had the infirmary/tannis, marcus, moxxi, etc listed on the floor. i imagine this new sanc-iii will change as we get more people on board or if we do a sort of re-decoration of the ship.

also also, it’s cool to see that we have 4 rooms on the minimap, likely one for each of the VHs (and your coop buddies). ive seen speculation that the other, non-played VHs will hang out in their rooms when you’re not playing them, and tbh i really hope this is the case.

we also know this version of sanctuary-iii is after pandora, so there are no promethea citizens aboard yet. which makes me double certain the first sanc-iii video we got takes place either after endgame (explaining why Lily has her tattoos back) or right after Athenas (explaining why Maya is there). which... i mean... spoilers, guys.

that’s one good lookin fast travel station, holy shit

im in tears over here because “Caution: no steppy”. this is so fucking funny to me

no steppy on me

okay moving on because i will cry laugh over this for forever im allowed

moze’s room is so much different than amara’s

also i notice she’s on the left of the two on the top, which makes me hope the other 4 are reserved for the other VHs (or your coop buddy).

compared to the official sanc-iii demo video

and amara’s room

moze’s is so barren oh my god

someone get this girl like... a colorful throw pillow or something

baaank. also doubles as the secret stash. kinda upsetting, because that is infinitely less loot i can store when i make a lot of characters. also if i upgrade the bank once, is it upgraded across all my other characters too? or are the guns i put in storage slot 11 locked up until i buy the upgrade?

either way, i am saddened because no more mule characters. and way less space the more characters you make and more gear you find, because all gear you put in here is there across all characters. i hope this means our backpacks will be a lot bigger this time around!

supamax mfg shows up again

ppm/04-02 matches up with the number behind the fast travel station. i wonder if this will come into play. if the number changes later in-game im going to freak the fuck out bc that means wherever we are isn’t actually sanctuary-iii

ppm/04-02. remember that 👀

also, the wall behind the golden chest changed from red to steel/greenish. can’t tell the actual color. same as the floor

you know. that color.

“golden keys are popular. you can get some in-game and also get them online”

in-game you say??? im interested! i wonder if there will be some sort of arena (like moxxi’s) where if you complete it you get a key as a reward. i saw people speculating about some sort of randomized boss rush, that could definitely be a way to get gold keys, as well.

oooo engine room! im excited to explore here.

original size is 16. so, we have 40 backpack slots! still... you know... only 1 above the max of bl2, but hey. at least that’s an upgrade. as small as it may be

on the bright side: bank upgrades increase capacity by 5. with a base of 10, and 8 upgrades, we have 50 slots to fill. which is a big leap from the original 24. it is still a shame we have to share these across characters, tho

offline cultist stream? makes me think the CoV really was trying to steal/take over sanc-iii from the crimson raiders and we went to go take it (back?) in Taking Flight. either the CoV found/ordered Sanc-III, or the crimson raiders were building it/fixing it up, their stronghold got taken over, and the CoV were prepping it for takeover.

the shooting range. and if you notice that little CoV symbol in the bottom left there? yeah pretty much backs up my previous theory

all those red bits are tied to ellie’s crew challenge. so we’ll be collecting things for her!

an altar for scooter 😢

“we’re gonna get those cultism sumbitches, believe you me”

where you get yeeted out of Sanc-III. im definitely going to try jumping in it to see if it kills me. doesn’t look like the drop pods are available yet

that’s not clappy, pretty sure he’s hanging out on the bridge right now

schematics for veronica

the thing i was most excited about in this video!

loooots of customizations! which excites me because i know eridium used to get useless late game when you’ve grinded all the raid bosses. it looks like eridum is going to be in ultra high demand. but u can bet ur ass im gonna be unlocking all those fucking customizations asap.

veteran rewards is also super super interesting

hgggggg i wanna know what the shields do!!!

i like the vault symbol at the top of the item card as well, shows you its a special type of weapon/item. im honestly surprised we’re able to buy ‘veteran rewards’ so early in the game? i mean obvi we won’t have enough eridium (look at the costs!) but it’s wild it’s even accessible. im personally a fan of the first bonus ‘anointed: gain life steal on action skill end’

looks like these guns have been chosen

to give them those special bonuses

i do see that just anointed is not class specific, but the ones that say anointed gunner or maybe anointed siren will be (confirmed by the devs in video).

you pay with eridium, so maybe the vending machine has some way to confer the power of eridium to the guns. or some shit. iunno. it’s possible this won’t be available until the end of the game, hence veteran rewards, and is only being shown to us right now since this is a showcasing video.

pandoran civilian. no promethea civilians today folks! i am CONVINCED that the old sanc-iii demo takes place after the end of the game. at least after athenas.

it’s weird seeing moxxi hanging outside her bar.

is also cool to know that the 4 slot machines are actually available. seems like npcs can play them, but we can use all 4 if we want to. which is really nice

the one on the far left is called the ‘loot boxxer’ and it gives mostly guns lol. i see they are taking jabs. good for them

better pic of the leftmost machines

Zer0 seems to have a bounty board? not sure if this is like a physical bounty board or if they will contact you when they want something dead, but it is cool to note. this isn’t shown in video, just the devs speaking about it.

similarly hammerlock has ‘big game hunts’ where you find “rare, challenging creatures” and kill them for him

apparently we’ll be killing something known as a manvark

this book

i fucking recognize this book

HAMMERLOCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

in all seriousness tho

hammerlock probably isn’t in his room because we haven’t rescued him from eden-6 yet.

a cool thing about the crew challenges: as you progress through the game and do these challenges, sanc-iii will ‘grow and change to reflect the things you’ve accomplished’. altho another dev says “sometimes these are optional things, like challenges”

so now im like oh shit we’re gonna change sanc-iii as we play the game. i wonder if that means we’ll be changing the hull, too. because you know. the blue paint job. we gotta go STEALTH. sneaky beaky into the calypsos fleety

tannis doesn’t have the saurian on her table. also, interesting note, she DOES have the eridian log in the corner. meaning she must have had that before eden-6. interesting... maybe we’ll find more on Pandora.

she is still covered in blood tho. idk i don’t have an explanation for that. don’t think i want to think of one, to be quite honest.

oh no. (those are skulls next to all the gurneys)

“tannis plays a much bigger role in bl3 than she has in past games”. bigger than borderlands 1? that is... impressive. she’ll be running the health vending machines (which is weird bc i could’ve sworn in the promethea demo, zed was still running them... hm.)

another angle of sanc-iii

clappy? you good there?

the devs said they’re using him to plug a hole. i assume the calypsos shot at the ship as we’re leaving or smth.

lily with no tattoos, who also looks significantly more pissed than her other sanc-iii demo counterpart

you know. because she got her tattoos.

also

fucking

lilith says something right here. all i can make out is “Tyreen took my powers. it’s like tannis said. ..... [inaudible] Siren.” maybe some weird word i haven’t heard before? i swear she’s saying ‘like tannis said: a ‘m...’ Siren” but i am not 100% sure. if someone could help me out, that’d be rad.

so its sounding like lilith rushed in with explicit warning from tannis about tyreen stealing her powers, and tannis knew tyreen was some sort of Siren and warned lily, but lily didn’t listen. it could also be that lily is saying something like “im not a siren” but i can’t really hear it if she is. it sounds like she saying a word that starts with m to me. if someone could help me with this i’d owe you my life

whew. i am. fucking TIRED.

im gonna sleep for like 3 hours and then wake up and make food before the fl4k streams start.

#borderlands #bl3 #borderlands 3

26 notes · View notes