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nehswritesstuffs · 2 years

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Drashig Steaks and Shortstack Pancakes

*SLAMS OPEN DOOR* BOOM BABY!

This series is officially going to be called Aliens in Logueton. The original with its overly-long name is here ([FFN]/[AO3]).

6448 words; should I be apologizing? Yes. Will I be apologizing? No; using material I couldn’t fit into the prior one of these (and I couldn’t even fit the rest of that in, so there’s likely going to be another one of these at some point); this thing doesn’t want to fcking end, so I’m ending it so I can post it and get it off my to-do list wtf

Drashig Steaks and Shortstack Pancakes

Luffy was given a choice: drift in the time vortex on minimal auxiliary power or let the crew chill in Logueton for a bit. Three guesses as to what he picked. [One Piece AU in a Doctor Who-like setting]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Cooking wasn’t just Sanji’s job or his life, oh no. It was always so much more poetic than that. It was a passion, a calling, something that he was made for—it was, essentially, his place in the universe. There were so many things about it that made the craft a rewarding one, tickling his senses nearly every time.

The sigh of satisfaction when a dish delighted.

That little gasp of relief when someone hungry ate their fill…

…or when someone truly hungry realized they were not imagining things.

A peal of laughter from good friends relaxed over good food.

“Sanji! I want more meat!”

…and yet, sometimes, the spell was broken.

Milling about in the kitchens of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji had found that it was one of the most well-stocked and well-prepped kitchens he had ever worked in. It had to be, considering that the ship’s captain was a living black hole, whose stomach must have been connected to a fucking pocket dimension. He wasn’t entirely sure of the mechanics of it all, but it allowed him to pull open the fridge, start going on whichever meal, and keep going until he didn’t have to for that particular round.

“Keep your shirt on, Luff,” he scowled. “I’m starting to think that aliens abduct cows just to feed you.”

“Now why would they do that? The farts alone are enough to kill.” Usopp cringed when Sanji glared at him, knowing that he was on thin ice. “I mean… wouldn’t there be something a bit more economical to feed Luffy with? Like the innards of a quasar?”

“Jury’s out,” Nami quipped, sipping at her coffee. Sanji came over with another tray full of… steaks and set them down on the table, which Luffy immediately started attacking. Why did they sear purple? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Hey, aren’t we down a few people?”

“Oh, don’t worry about them, Nami dear,” Sanji offered. “Franky enlisted Jinbe and Mosshead’s help to do something with the thruster system—they’ll be eating when they��re done, which shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“They better hurry up,” Luffy said, mouth full. “These steaks are great!”

“Swallow your food before you talk!” Chopper scolded. The Physician pouted sourly. “Talking with your mouth full is not only rude, but with the way you eat, it increases your chance of choking exponentially!”

“Expo… what now?”

“It means ‘by a lot’,” Brook translated.

“Oh…” Luffy shrugged and continued eating, being a veritable vacuum, until the overhead lights hummed as they powered down, leaving only the red auxiliary lights. “Whoa! What happened?!”

“I get the feeling we’re going to be finding out very soon,” Robin smirked, flipping a page in her book. Sanji, Nami, and Usopp all stared at her as she counted down on her fingers, not even pausing her reading.

Three, two, one, aaaand, point towards the door.

“This is super-not-good,” Franky wailed as he entered the kitchen. Jinbe and Zoro were both trailing close behind, the three covered in grime and sweat from the heavy lifting of machinery they had been doing. “The thruster’s shot and I’m going to need to construct a new one by hand.”

“What does the thruster have to do with the lights?” Nami deadpanned.

“It doesn’t,” Zoro replied, cutting Franky off. Sanji was honestly too busy having his brain short out due to the samurai’s glistening abs and pecs to stop him from going directly into the fridge and pulling out a protein shake, which he downed half of before continuing. “Pervert here just severed the cable while we were breaking the ship.”

“Why are you so mean to me this week, Zoro-bro?”

“I’m just stating facts.” The lump of moss shrugged noncommittally before chugging the rest of his shake. “I don’t even know what all this shit is and I know it’s broke.”

“It seems as though we might be stuck for a little while, at the least,” Jinbe conceded. “There might be enough left in the auxiliary for me to get us to Nami and Sanji’s Logueton… otherwise… we might be stranded in the space-time vortex.”

“Ugh—it’s hard enough getting around in this thing,” Nami groaned, “so the last scenario I want is to be stranded in it. We’re headed to Logueton.”

“Nami, darling, isn’t that for the captain to decide?” Sanji asked warily.

“Your dad said he was looking for a bit of extra help, and it’ll be good to let some of these goons run around and touch grass,” she shrugged. She glanced over at Luffy, his cheeks full of questionably-sourced steaks, and gave him her most winning smile. “What do you say, Captain? Drift in the vortex with the auxiliary power as an emergency supply without knowing what the consequences will be, or hang out in Logueton?”

The stars in the Time Lord’s eyes made Sanji want to weep openly.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Zeff looked at his “extra help” lined up in the empty dining room and resisted the urge to take his son out back and strangle him; finish the job he should have done a good, what, decade or so ago at this point. Taking on a couple teenagers from the local high school for a few weeks would have been fine… but this…

“You need a bit of extra help, which you said as much the other day, while trying to straighten this place up for your visit from the magazine editors next month,” Sanji said plainly. It wasn’t as even though he had brought only idiots before his foster dad for inspection. There was Luffy, yeah, and Chopper and Usopp and Brook, but Robin had also volunteered, insisting it would be “fun”.

“I know what I said, but did you really expect me to say yes to this group of hellions?!”

“Uh… pardon me…? Mister Zeff…?”

“Give me three good reasons, Long Nose, why I don’t go and murder you all where you stand in my restaurant’s self-defense because no court would convict me.”

“Well, I was just gonna say that… we can still hear you.” Usopp squirmed uncomfortably under the pressure of the older man’s glare. “Also, if you really want, we can just make sure one of us is on Luffy Duty while the rest of us actually do work. It’s kind of what we do normally.”

“…and where are the rest of you little shitheads?”

“Nami said she had other work to do, and Franky has Jinbe and Zoro helping him with the Sunny!” Chopper offered. “I might have to go with them if they need a bit more muscle.”

“…and why might that be?” Zeff scowled. Chopper transformed into Heavy Point, becoming much taller, bulkier, and human-like. “Ah, that’s right. You can do that. Because why the fuck not.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere with me, asshole,” Chopper blushed. Zeff side-eyed Sanji, ready to skip the “taking out back” part of the inevitable infanticide. Was it still infanticide if the infant in question was a dumbass in his early twenties that was making him lose his hair and his temper?

Well, at least it wasn’t the directionless history lesson capable of making his disaster-bi of a son burn water simply by walking past him.

“They fuck anything up and it’s coming out of your inheritance,” he threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare, shitty geezer.”

Oh, he definitely dared.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, it seemed as though the help the rest of the Straw Hats offered the Baratie proprietors was falling in line with expectations.

Usopp, Chopper, and Brook were… okay. They weren’t stellar, but they didn’t break everything they fucking touched. That was Luffy’s expertise. Robin was amazing, however, as the Historian’s powers allowed her to sprout parts of her body everywhere and anywhere. They really helped her when it came to reading multiple books and papers at once, but also meant that she could wash dishes, dry and stack them, wash veggies, and do a bunch of other minutia all while sitting calmly in the corner with tea and a book. That only really left…

“Will you get that out of your mouth?”

Feeling more like he was watching over a toddler than a multidimensional cosmic entity, Sanji shoved his hands in his pocket and watched as Luffy divested the (compostable, at least) plastic bowl from his mouth and reached his arm over towards the trash bin, letting it drop with a soft paft. They were in a spacious park in the suburbs, where the entire crew was enjoying the morning off—a benefit of the Baratie only being a dinner place. Even those who were supposed to be working on the ship were there, because they weren’t going to get anywhere by letting one part of the crew have fun while the rest of them toiled away… and besides, they could help wear Luffy out so he could cause as little damage as possible later.

“I know you’re not Human, but usually omnivores stick to eating… you know… edible things.” He let the smoke from his cigarette leech from his mouth and nostrils, wondering how he hadn’t gone through the entire pack already. “What are you anyhow?”

Luffy shrugged and Sanji repressed the urge to scream. “Never really thought about it that much, you know?”

“No; can’t say I share the sentiment.”

Luffy shrugged at that and jettisoned himself over to where Usopp, Chopper, Franky, and Brook were all playing with a soccer-football. Nami was relaxing nearby, with Robin sitting next to her watching the antics. Jinbe was going through some Silur-kwon-do kata with… sweet fuck…

How in the hell was he supposed to concentrate on Luffy Wrangling when Zoro was shirtless and sweaty out in the open? It was a distraction bordering on unacceptable levels of cruelty.

So distracting, even, that the now-errant soccer-football connected with his face, knocking his cigarette to the ground and giving him a mild case of whiplash.

“Sanjiiiiii, over here!” Luffy whined, windmilling his arms around to get the blond’s attention. Sanji kicked the ball back over to his friends and looked at the pavement, mourning the loss of the remainder of his cigarette. He only looked up again when he heard a familiar chuckle.

“Wasn’t that long ago you would have been able to kick that out of mid-air, without even looking,” Nami noted. Sanji cursed his rotten luck—she saw.

“I’m trying to think of how we’re going to corral the captain while everyone’s working tonight,” he lied.

“Don’t insult me—I’ve known you long enough to know how to catch one of your fibs.”

“You wound me, my darling,” he whined. He tried not to steal glances over towards Zoro, hoping that possibly, eventually, maybe, the fact he was right next to the stout Sea Devil would help detract from the scene, considering Jinbe was not his thing by far… fuck, yeah, it didn’t help at all. Sweaty marimo make brain go brrrrrrrrr…

“Hello—Earth to Sanji,” Nami chuckled, snapping her fingers in front of his face. He was catapulted back to their conversation. “You’re hopeless.”

“I have eyes,” he grumbled. Sanji allowed Nami to turn his body so his back was fully facing Zoro, making it so that they were instead looking at the ball-based antics. “Don’t punish me because I have eyes.”

“Playing is not a punishment, now get out there,” she laughed, pushing him firmly in the middle of his back. He stumbled slightly as he joined his crewmates out on the grass, eventually taking possession of the ball and turning it into a game of keep-away. Before long, the others were just standing there staring at him and his disturbingly good footwork.

“You never told us you could legit play,” Usopp noted carefully.

“Zeff had me playing football all through school,” Sanji shrugged, dribbling the ball casually. “Did that, did swim team in the off-season, spurts of capoeira and savate to expend the rest of my energy and hormone-driven aggression, you know… nothing special.”

“He was scouted,” Nami announced from the sidelines. “Idiot still doesn’t think his cooking career could be accomplished after retirement, but noooo… he could be playing for East Blue City F.C. right now. Could be ranked internationally in whichever sport he wants. The sheer amount of tournaments I sat through for the sake of friendship!”

“I’m not that good,” he scowled. From the vantage point he had, he could see Zoro still going through the katas with Jinbe… but also… “Oi, Luff, what the fuck is that…?”

There, raging as it emerged from the sandy ground, was a giant serpent-like creature that let out a deafening roar.

“It looks tasty!” Luffy marveled. “Sanji?! Do you think you can cook it for lunch for me?!”

“I told you I can cook anything, Luff, but do you really want that…?” Luffy looked back and forth between the creature, then the cook, then the creature, and so on and so forth. “Fine… don’t come crying to me if it’s too tough for you to just swallow whole.”

With that, Sanji took the ball he had just been dribbling around his friends and sent it flying, crashing into the serpentine creature and snapping its neck. Zoro looked at the downed carcass, to Sanji, impressed.

“You know,” he called out, sheathing the single sword he was able to draw before the creature was dispatched, “I can’t even be mad. That was kind of hot.”

“Oh, I did not need to hear that,” Usopp whined.

“Just because you’re pining for a girl on another world doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be celibate,” Sanji notes. Usopp sighs in defeat—by all technicalities, the other man was right.

“…and it doesn’t mean that I needed to hear that either,” Nami said. She held out her hand towards Zoro, palm up. “A hundred beri.”

“Witch! For what?!” Zoro barked.

“Alright then: two hundred.”

The man never did know when to quit when he was ahead.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Drashig meat, as it turned out, is a wonderfully-marbled, exquisitely textured, delicately flavorful meal that brought the idea to Sanji’s brain to try and grab some at the next galactic market they stop in, but for the time being they were going to have to deal with a picnic barbecue on the shore of a pond that sat within the border of the park. Luckily, they had other food with them for their lunch, which made the addition of the drashig meat seem rather natural.

So when UNIT showed up, it only made sense that certain individuals got defensive.

“Did you just seriously eat all that…?” Tashigi asked, staring at the pile of bones that was most of the drashig. “Those things are supposed to be able to feed an entire colony port for a week.”

“…or our captain for a light lunch,” Brook quipped. He, of all the crew, was the least concerned that there were a bunch of paramilitary troops now wandering around, pointing guns and trampling the grass. It was probably the lack of flesh for those guns to aim at. “I’m sure our cook still has a few more slabs to grill up, if you think you are interested in joining us.”

“No thank you,” Smoker grunted. He scowled in irritation at Luffy, who kept on eating without a care in the world. “I want to know who let this thing loose.”

“I dunno, but whoever it is missed out,” Luffy stated. The glanced over at the two UNIT officers and grinned, patting the bit of picnic table next to him. “Come on! Sanji’s cooking is the best!”

“If we wanted to eat, we would have shown up at the restaurant tonight,” Smoker deadpanned. “I need to know if you saw who in the hell released a non-native Big Savage creature onto a vulnerable extraterrestrial ecosystem forty minutes ago.”

“That long? You’re losing your touch, Smoke-bro,” Franky smirked from behind his pop can. “Used to be we just set foot off the Sunny and you were up our asses.”

“I can dig up some old arrest warrants, if you’d like,” Smoker threatened. Franky rolled his eyes and chuckled, which caused Smoker to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. “How are we the same age and yet you’re so…”

“Super…?”

“He was going to say the exact opposite of that,” Sanji cut in. He placed the freshly-grilled drashig cuts on the table, with Luffy not missing a beat. “Now if you pardon us, officers, we have a meal to eat and clean up after if we want to get back to the city proper in time for our work shifts… unless you want to keep harassing us outside of your technical jurisdiction.”

“The whole damn planet is our jurisdiction, not just Logueton,” Smoker growled. “Are you trying to tell me to bug off?”

“No: he’s telling you to fuck off,” Zoro translated helpfully, mouth still full of food. Sanji kicked him in the shoulder. “What?! It’s true. There’s a difference.”

“I got one! Assault on a Galactic Noble!” Tashigi squeaked, bringing up the holographic function on her mobile. It contained a headshot of Zoro with a murderous look on his face, back when he had two working eyes.

“Shit,” Zoro hissed, drawing his swords. He was just barely armed when Smoker came at him, attacking him with his jitte. Most of the officer’s body was now made of smoke, hovering over the picnic table in order to get a better reach of his prey.

“I don’t care if it is a fucking childish pretense—it’s enough for me,” he grinned around his pair of cigars. “All of you are coming with me.”

“Fucking make us, lap dog,” Zoro growled. He forcibly pushed Smoker away, causing him to crash into some of his soldiers. Luffy cracked his knuckles, Sanji crouched into a fighting stance, and Usopp cupped his hands to his mouth, shouting:

“THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

In the end, they didn’t exactly make it on-time for the shift, but at least they made it before the rush.

“Fucking hell—you lot look like you went through a warzone to get here,” Zeff said, furrowing his brow. He stared as his son stood pitifully at the back entrance to the kitchen, Eggplant and Friends all looking equally ragged. Except Robin. She seemed fine… stable, at the very worst. “Where’s the Intergalactic Stomach?”

“He’s grounded,” Sanji said, sounding as fucking beat as he looked.

“He might have beaten up a couple of UNIT officers and their subordinates, and gotten the rest of us dragged into it,” Usopp cringed. He immediately got some ice out of the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and applied it directly to his swollen eye. “That was horrible.”

“Moss-brains started it,” Sanji justified. “Luffy made it worse, and now he’s under lock and key, playing board games with Nami at the flat.”

“Are you sure that will contain him?” Patty snarked. Sanji flipped a middle finger at him, the act automatic more than anything.

“The Sunny’s parked at the flat, so if all else fails, one of the ones working on it can help,” Chopper said. He and Usopp went straight to hair-netting themselves so they could peel vegetables, while Robin sprouted enough arms to wash dishes, and Sanji stuck his head under the tap at the hand-washing station, running cold water over his head.

“Wow… it hasn’t been this bad since Eggplant thought he could pick a fight with some neighborhood hoodlums twice his size,” Zeff observed gravely. He took a the towel hanging off the side of his apron and placed it over Sanji’s head once he turned off the water. “How old were you then?”

“Ten—I was only here for a few months, the assholes.” He accepted the towel and attempted to dry his hair, leaving it slightly damp so he could comb it back with his fingers, putting it in place before properly washing his hands. “You called up your old savate buddies within the week.”

“Your game’s off—next time those UNIT bastards decide to pick a fight, don’t come crawling back here unless you’ve thoroughly kicked their asses and not the other way around,” Zeff chided gently. He tossed Sanji an apron and picked back up barking orders to his subordinates—there was a dinner rush to get through.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a rough shift, that was for certain. UNIT did not show up ready to haul them all into the base for questioning—that at least had somewhat of an informal truce going—but it did seem as though the entire ward knew that certain members of the kitchen staff were beat to hell and that it would be a bad night to be busy. Instead, they went through no less than fourteen birthdays, five wedding anniversaries, and a slew of other occasions, with the night being one of the busiest they’d had in a while. For some reason. No one was certain as to why. Fucking full moon energy for it being only a partial. All they knew was that when they finally dragged ass back to the flat, the look on Franky’s face as he stood there shiftily with his can of pop was not welcome.

“Whatever it is, it can fucking wait until tomorrow,” Sanji threatened. He didn’t even care that Zoro was still filthy, nor that he didn’t even have enough energy to tug off before falling asleep if that’s what it took, yet he still wrapped both hands around one of the green-haired man’s biceps and weakly pulled towards his bedroom. “Cuddles now, marimo.”

“I have to call my brother,” Franky said, not caring about the prohibition. Sanji sank against Zoro’s side, not wanting to move of his own volition anymore.

“It will be nice to see him again,” Robin said pleasantly. She calmly strode up to Franky and pecked him on the cheek, the only one not completely spent after the chaotic night they’d had. The rest of the crew were dropping like flies, some making it to the couches, others settling for the cozy area rug. Luffy was still wide awake, however, demonstrating how eerily inhuman he was at times.

“I wonder how Ice-guy’s doing,” he mused.

“Iceburg means… you’re calling Galley-Fucking-La…?” Sanji realized, brain still functioning enough to connect the fucking dots.

“Called,” Jinbe corrected, sipping some tea. “He already called his brother.”

“Mmm… I’m going to kill you,” Sanji whined. He made a move to go kick the cyborg’s head in, but was easily caught by Zoro and thrown over the man’s shoulder.

“Not now, soba-brain,” he said, carrying him out of the main living space. Sanji strained half-heartedly against his captor, the thought floating in his consciousness as long as it was active.

Galley-La, of all things, in the flat above a coworker who has no qualms over reporting him to his dad.

Fuck.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Waking back up the following morning was much better than falling asleep the night prior, Sanji decided. Granted, he didn’t even really remember coming home the night prior, his memory becoming sort of a mental brown-out after stepping over the building threshold, but waking up… that he could deal with. He was currently snugged up to the moss-brain (which was honestly, one of his more practical uses), one meaty arm around him while he used the man’s broad chest as a pillow. It was… at some point in the morning, with the warm sun coming through the window and making him content as a cat. Fuck—sword-freak had such nice tits…

“Hey, mister! When’s breakfast?!”

Sanji bolted awake, eyes snapping wide open as he lifted himself up onto his hands. There, standing next to his bed, was Franky and Iceburg’s niece, Chimney. The child was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Un~cle Fra~n~ky call~ed,” she replied in a sing-song voice. “When’s breakfast?”

“After… I shower…” Sanji replied warily. The girl gave this a moment of thought, then nodded.

“I’ll let them know,” she said before skipping off.

Fuck, who else was there?

“Marimo! Get up!” Sanji hissed, shoving Zoro’s shoulder. The wall of meat kept sleeping, so he shoved him out of bed.

“Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Zoro snapped, glaring over the top of the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me Franky’s relatives were coming over?!”

“We did!”

“When?!”

“Last night!”

“Oh, when I was having a serious caffeine-adrenaline-nicotine combo crash?! Great time.” Sanji got out of bed and threw Zoro’s t-shirt from the day before at him. “Be decent—Chimney was just in here.”

“At least we’re still wearing pants,” the green-haired man grumbled.

“I swear, if Carne mentions one thing to Zeff, I don’t care—all of your asses are going in the vortex whether you like it or not… except Nami and Robin.”

“Do we have to take the kid or can she at least stay?”

“Now you’re just getting me on fucking technicalities.”

Zoro flipped Sanji the middle finger as the latter went into the bathroom and quickly showered off the funk that came with his prior work shift and sleeping curled up with grimy beefcake. Fifteen minutes later he was clean and dressed and stepping out into…

…Zoro and Usopp quietly drinking coffee at the kitchen island…?

“Please tell me they’re all in the Sunny,” the blond pleaded.

“Mostly,” Usopp claimed, shrugging slightly. Sanji tried not to drop the frying pan in his hand.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Kid went out on the balcony; wanted to see what Logueton looks like from here,” Zoro muttered into his mug. It was the one with a Western-style dragon and flames that appeared when the mug was warm—a gag birthday gift from the Baratie staff that the cook was more than happy to repurpose. “At least it’s not the fucking hag as well.”

“Then… who’s watching her?”

Usopp and Zoro both looked at one another and cussed simultaneously. Two seconds later and there was a knock at the door, making all three men stop, eyes trained on the metal surface separating the flat from the corridor. Sanji cautiously went over to the door and opened it, his stomach dropping.

There was Carne, with the scruff of Luffy’s shirt in one hand and Chimney’s in the other.

“You lost these,” the older man frowned, tossing the pair across the threshold. “Why are you like this?”

“Blame the old man—he wanted me to travel with them.”

“I don’t think that meant losing the space cadets and that damn ship landing at all manner of day and night… nor getting loudly railed by Mister Tall, Green, and Stabby over there every chance you get.”

“You’re just jealous,” Zoro countered, gesturing with his mug. Usopp choked on his coffee. Luffy completely ignored the conversation and disappeared inside the Sunny, not interested in the coffee that was available.

“Why would I be jealous of the boss’s eggplant when I got all I need in my nice, quiet flat that doesn’t involve weirdos!?”

“…because you’re thinking about the shit-geezer’s eggplant; now hush.” Sanji closed the door on Carne before he had a chance to sputter out a response. Zoro and Usopp both high-fived one another, while Chimney looked at the men, confused.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Never you mind,” Sanji scolded, skin flushing a deep pink. “Now, pancakes?”

“Yes!”

It wasn’t long before there was a short stack of pancakes in front of the three time-and-space-displaced people sitting at the island. He just finished plating another stack when Chimney’s pet rabbit-cat-thing Gonbe came loping out of the Sunny, complete with a grimy peanut gallery right behind it.

“Yow! That smells super!” Franky grinned. He sat down next to Chimney, ruffling her hair. “Sanji-bro makes the best food, doesn’t he?”

“Yefh!” the girl replied, mouth full of pancake.

“Oi, losers, let the guests sit there,” Sanji scolded, kicking Zoro and Usopp from their spots. They retreated into the sitting area, allowing space for the two remaining shipwrights to eat. If anything, at least they were saving the couch from the indignity of Franky’s tiny swim bottoms should he volunteer his seat instead.

“Nma, Chimney, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Iceburg gently reminded her. He sounded terribly bored, as though it was something he said with way too much regularity.

“Uncle Iceburg…” she whined, “you and Uncle Paulie do it all the time.”

“Gotta prove you know the rules before you can break ‘em, brat,” Paulie muttered though his food, which got him a prompt and sharp elbow in the side. Coffee appeared in front of him and he graciously took it—fucking nectar of life.

“I don’t see your ship,” Sanji mentioned as he poured more batter. “Don’t you also wander around in one of those things?” He gestured towards the Sunny with his spatula, which garnered a shrug from Iceburg.

“It’s parked out front.”

“Do I want to know?”

“It looks like a truck!” Chimney said brightly, volunteering the information. Her adults all stared at her as Sanji peeked out the window—yup, there it was: a rusted-out, beat-the-fuck-up Fish-Man Motors pickup truck with clearly-replaced doors and “Galley-La Construction, Mechanics, and Maintenance” written on the side. He didn’t even want to know what they had to do to access the main of the ship.

“So, Sanji,” Paulie said, punctuated by sipping his coffee, “how long you got where we can just crash here?”

“However long it takes for you to get the ship back in the vortex and Luffy away from my neighbors,” the cook replied. “There are plenty of people whose patience is already wearing thin.”

“Yours included?”

“I just want two shifts in a row at work where I’m not worried about him breaking anything, or that he’s out causing trouble that will follow him back.” The three shipwrights all nodded at that—they all knew of Luffy’s particular brand of antics. Even Chimney nodded in commiseration. “I’m gonna get that restaurant one day, and I want to prove to my old man before then that I’m capable of the task.”

“Sanji, dude, you make some of the best fucking mizu-mizu meat in this quadrant, any prep method,” Paulie scoffed. “I think you can handle it.”

“Should almost get you on tape saying that,” Sanji said. He plated some additional pancakes, then pulled a slab of bacon out of the fridge. “It’d be nice to have it to listen to, you know? Someone other than myself saying it?”

“Are we having bacon with pancakes?!” Usopp asked happily from across the room. Sanji glared at him.

“No, because the boneless wonder is going to realize it’s breakfast time in five, four, three, two, one…”

…and that was when they heard it.

Drifting out of the inner depths of the Sunny.

The wanton moans that preceded disaster…

“Sanji! I’m hungry! I want meat!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sanji had never seen Zeff cry, but he was beginning to wonder if that was going to change.

“Three weeks?!” he sputtered. “I can’t have those disasters wandering around here for that long! They’re going to become nothing but a menace!”

“That’s how long it’s going to take for the Sunny to get back to operational, then we can kick the morons in there and send them off for a while,” Sanji reasoned. “Between Franky, Iceburg, and Paulie, that’s the best they were able to give me.”

“If I had known things were going to be like this, I would have kicked that rubber boy out and then found a way to get him banned him from this planet.” Zeff rubbed his face with both his hands, glad for the fact they were in his office, where none of the other staff members could see him considering a mental fucking breakdown. “Not a day longer, you hear?”

“I want this just as much as you do, Pops.”

“Now go make sure none of them are scaring off the customers,” the older man grumbled. “I need to… just… not think about shit for a bit.”

Sanji closed the office door behind him and went to peek inside the dining room of the Baratie. Things were going fairly smooth so far: Usopp was relegated to waitstaff that evening, and Brook was maître d’, despite all logic stating that was the last thing he should be doing. Neither of them seemed to be causing much trouble, nor was Chopper as he wheeled out the dessert cart. There was someone very crucial missing from his line of vision, but he was also not seeing evidence of Robin, which gave him at least some hope. He crept back to the kitchen, relieved to find Luffy sitting next to the many-armed goddess, concentrating on a fidget toy.

After exchanging a look with the Historian that he hoped screamed “thank fucking God”, Sanji went back to taking care of orders. He was on fish that night, which meant a lot of butchering and filleting by-hand. The fish station at the Baratie was a bit more intensive than it really needed to be, but that was part of the model, after all. Both the other chefs at the station—decent enough in their own rights, but not near his caliber yet—were glad that it was him helping and not one of the older and more cantankerous chefs. The three worked together near-seamlessly, until Usopp came rushing up to Sanji in a panic.

“They’re here!” he scream-whispered. Sanji put down his knife and glared at his crewmate.

“If you haven’t noticed: I’m up to my elbows in fish guts. Who is here?”

“UNIT!”

Fuck.

“They’re asking for the chef’s special… and you’re the chef.”

Fuck.

“Don’t piss your pants—I’m coming,” Sanji growled. He quickly washed and dried his hands and followed Usopp out into the dining room, where he was led directly to a circular booth where Smoker and Tashigi were sitting—too close together to be siblings, but too far apart to be hooking up. “Your waiter informs me you wish to speak to the chef about tonight’s specials? I am the sous, as our head chef is in the middle of paperwork for the evening.”

“Give me one good reason,” Smoker growled, “why I shouldn’t clap all of you in cuffs and bring you down to HQ.”

“…because at the end of next month, my father will be hosting Logueton Luncheon, and no one would be able to repair the property damage that would be involved with your plan in time for their arrival.”

“What do you recommend that will be light enough to accommodate a slice of that opera cake I saw on the trolley?” Tashigi asked nonchalantly. She seemed to be pointedly ignoring her superior officer, who was absolutely fuming at the entire situation, until she kicked him under the table. “You lost the bet, you promised you’d take me to a nice place because of it, and I’d rather not arrest both the waiter and the sous chef while off-hours on flimsy pretenses.”

“Aren’t you bold, Tash,” Smoker grumbled. Sanji and Usopp both attempted to keep a snicker in as the normally-gentler one of the pair took a sip of her water with what could almost be described as a devilish look on her face. She glanced over at the pair and a chill ran down their spines.

“I’m bold because I bet Mister Love-Doesn’t-Work-on-the-Battlefield here that Hibari was going to ask Helmeppo and-slash-or Coby out. He said she was a lesbian and it doesn’t work that way.”

“Oooh, sucker bet,” Usopp cringed.

“One won on a technicality, at that,” Sanji noted. “So that is why mademoiselle is treating us to her visage in fine evening wear instead of her usual uniform? Good to know that she is with someone who knows how to behave around a lady.” He flashed Smoker a shit-eating grin, causing the other man to grit his teeth. “If he doesn’t work, mademoiselle, I’ve got a fellow sword-fanatic I can loan you for the remainder of the evening.”

“You’re pimping out Zoro now…?” Usopp cringed. A second later and his toes were crushed.

Now, granted, Usopp did scream—the toes on his left foot were shattered, after all—but no one heard him. Instead, the noise he made (which was admittedly rather impressive) was drowned out by the sound of the Sunny landing in the middle of the dining room. Again. A filthy Zoro wordlessly walked out, approached the table where the UNIT officers were at…

…and pulled Tashigi from the booth.

“Oi, mujina, let’s go,” he grunted.

“How are you from Japan and not get the term right?!” Tashigi marveled incredulously. She allowed herself to be pulled through the restaurant by the wrist—fighting it just wasn’t part of her that evening. Luffy had already scrambled out of the kitchen and was halfway through the door, while Chopper was dragging Usopp along and Robin chuckling as she readied the mindwiping device to use on the customers.

“Blackleg, you have three seconds to convince me you have nothing to do with your ancient warrior fetish dragging off my not-date into that fucking interdimensional snogbox of yours.”

“Considering this thing wasn’t supposed to be ready for weeks? Something tells me I’m in need of more answers than you.” Sanji reluctantly dragged ass heading over to the ship, bested in speed by Brook (who kindly reminded them he possessed no ass to speak of and therefore did not drag), the chef and the UNIT officer looking inside the Sunny to see absolute fucking chaos reigning supreme.

Every single Straw Hat crewmember was there, plus some. Tashigi was currently in a row with Zoro about which sword she needed to borrow despite her nice dress. Iceburg was laying half-under the console in an effort to continue repairing it, while Paulie physically tossed Gonbe across the room to get it out of the way and into Chimney’s arms. Nami was shouting, Jinbe was shouting back, Franky was singing, Luffy was whooping, Chopper was attempting to take care of Usopp’s broken foot as both idiots panicked out of control, and, somehow… somehow… a pink Eastern dragon was sobbing in the arms of a samurai that was legitimately taller than Brook, of all people.

Without looking, Sanji reached into his pocket and brought out his lighter, holding it towards Smoker. Whatever the fuck this was, their nicotine-addicted asses were going to need something to keep them upright.

The man took the lighter and immediately flicked it open.

Yeah; this was not going to be good.

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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

Into the Woods: chapter 1 | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Neither you nor Frankie are expecting to run into anyone in the middle of the woods.

Tags: none!! all audiences!

Word Count: 3,054

Note: HE’S HERE!!! Please enjoy the official first installment of the outdoors insta frankie series 🌳📷😍 So much love to the wonderful @yoditorian for coming up with this concept and Frankie’s IG name, and also helping me brainstorm 💗💗💗

Backstory

---

Francisco Morales loves this shit. Walking for hours without seeing another soul, nothing to think about but where to place his feet on the path ahead of him. Assuming he’s following a path at all. These are his woods- the country surrounding the house he’s lived in for years, a place just shy of isolated from the nearest town. They’re not really his, legally. He’s not exactly sure what the rules of land designation entail, but it’s not a national park, and no one has ever chased him up about the occasional wood-chopping or campfire-building he does.

So he walks.

It’s a damn perfect day for it, too. Brilliantly sunny with a hint of breeze, rustling the greenery around him and carrying the scents of sun-warmed leaves and late summer flowers. The birds are in high spirits, their vibrant chirping filling the air with chatter. Screeches of alarm, sometimes, too- a side effect of hiking with a giant energetic dog. Frankie watches ruefully as Oso crashes off into the undergrowth again, doubtless chasing down some poor creature.

He slows his pace to wait for her, taking the opportunity for a water break. His heavy pack thuds to the ground. Frankie grunts as he stretches, rotating his shoulders and flapping his sweaty t-shirt away from his back. I should really hike along the river more often, he muses. He doesn’t mind working up a sweat (obviously), but a ready supply of cool water during a long hike does wonders for one’s well-being.

“Boof!” Oso’s deep bark as she returns brings Frankie’s attention to her.

“Yeah? Would you like that, too? A nice swim in the river to cool you down?” He crouches to ruffle her neck fur the way she likes. Oso only pants in answer, blinking at him adoringly.

She slurps thirstily as Frankie pours some water from his bottle into her mouth. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Osita, we’ll be near some water soon.”

Their goal today is a small pond Frankie had only found earlier this year. It’s a good spot for his campfire cooking, as well as endlessly photogenic. This is marginally important to him, as he attempts to keep a regular diary of his wanderings through instagram. It’s mostly for fun, but like anyone else, he isn’t immune to the particular buzz from his posts unexpectedly getting a high number of likes.

But he had also discovered that he wasn’t the only one with this hobby. There were whole communities of people out there who found peace the same way he did, and they happily gave advice if ever he posted about a struggle.

Frankie pauses again a short way away from the pond to make sure he’s on course. Oso sniffs around excitedly, bounding off again while Frankie checks his GPS. “Huh.” Looking around, he laughs at himself a little when it tells him he’s almost walked past it. He rotates to his left and thinks he spots the telltale gap in the trees ahead. He tucks the GPS away.

Oso barks from somewhere ahead of him. A split second later, a human yelp sounds from the same direction. His eyes widen.

“Shit!” Frankie breaks into a run. In all the years he’s been out here, he rarely sees other people this far from the trails. “Oso!” he yells. “Here, girl!”

Oso isn’t aggressive (unless the situation warrants it), but whatever new friend she thinks she’s meeting won’t know that. Frankie races toward where he judges the noise came from, heart pounding. He bursts through some bushes and is almost knocked down by his beast jumping up to greet him.

“Hey, girl, who was- no!” Oso peels away again across a bit of clear ground, her collar slipping through Frankie’s fingers. He’s barreling toward where her tail wags from behind a bush, when you stand.

Frankie skids to a stop so abruptly his feet slide out from under him. His ass hits the ground with a thud, his rucksack taking only part of the fall. He scrambles upright gracelessly, clumsy with the weight on his back, never taking his eyes off of you.

You stare at each other.

Nothing about this moment feels real to Frankie- you could announce that you’re the dryad who rules this forest and he would believe you, that’s how unlikely your appearance is. Shifting sunbeams dapple your skin, and even from several feet away he can tell that you have the most striking eyes he’s ever seen.

For a second your gaze flicks down to the side. You lean slightly as if something has nudged you, and as you move your hand away from it Frankie realizes you’re holding something.

Shit. He returns to his senses. Is that a weapon?

He’s met people on the trails before, most of them harmless fellow hikers. But occasionally there are some with weird vibes, especially the farther away from the paths you got. He’s fully capable of defending himself, but that doesn’t mean he wants to have to.

“Oso! Here!” Frankie says sternly. Your expression doesn’t change as you watch the dog trot over to him. Jaw set, wide eyes tracking his every motion.

He supposes he can’t blame you for being wary. Or armed. It’s a perfectly reasonable response to running into a strange man in the middle of the woods. He knows he’s not exactly the picture of reassurance. Tall and broad, probably too sweaty to believably claim he’s on a casual hike. He decides to speak.

“Sorry to startle you.” Frankie keeps his hands by his sides where you can see them, resting one on Oso’s head. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

Your tense stance doesn’t relax. “Me either.”

His head tips to the side. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?” He tries to keep his voice slow and soothing.

He can see you assessing him, trying to measure how safe he is. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” Frankie pats the dog’s head in a more formal introduction. “I like to come out here and cook.” Your brow furrows at that, bemusement appearing amidst your guarded features. Before you can respond, he prompts “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

“Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” Disbelief is etched in every line of your face.

Well, when you say it like that.

Foraging. That makes perfect sense. Frankie follows a few of them on instagram. He’s always pleased when he notices the more obvious edible plants and berries, but it’s not usually his focus. His vegetable garden at home takes up most of his efforts. It’s managed to thrive in the years since he started it after leaving the army, and it’s become a source of pride for him to be able to wander out, pick some things for the day’s meal, and head right into the woods.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

Your eyebrows rise even higher at that.

Moving slowly and watching for your reaction, Frankie holds his hands up as he turns, keeping one in the air while the other makes a show of tugging his phone from a side pocket of his pack. He keeps the screen visible as he opens the app, then pulls his arm back in the beginning of an underhanded throw. Poised as such, he looks at you expectantly.

Now you’re almost frowning. Clearly still suspicious, but possibly fractionally less concerned about danger from a man willing to give his phone to a complete stranger in the woods. Hesitantly, you raise your hands to catch it.

Finally Frankie can make out that the thing in your hand in a canister of mace. The sight inexplicably relieves him. Pepper spray is a normal person’s defense, something that anyone might carry to help themselves feel safe. Far from the kind of weapon he would fear from someone angling for true violence.

All of this decided in the space of a second, Frankie gently tosses you his phone.

You’re so distracted by delighting in the prolific blackberry bushes which surround your pond that you don’t hear the approaching creature until it’s upon you.

You screech in shock at the massive fur-thing’s appearance, bowling you over from your crouch. It doesn’t seem bothered about wanting you to pet it, only wiggling and sniffing at you enthusiastically. You register the collar around its neck at the same you hear the shout.

“Oso!” That must be its name. “Here, girl!” The dog dashes away, then back, clearly torn about leaving her new friend so soon.

Icy adrenaline douses your system. That was a man’s voice, rough and cavernous. Who knows what kind of person he could be, no matter the earnestness of his dog? Your hands shake as you rip open your bag for the canister of mace you’ve never had to use.

There’s a pronounced rustle and then his voice sounds again, terrifyingly close. “Hey, girl, who was- no!”

Shit. The dog is back, looking at you eagerly, rear in the air and tail wagging like this is an exciting game. You have to choose a course of action quickly. Twisting the safety off the pepper spray, you rise to your feet.

His reaction is almost funny; you think you might have laughed if this was literally any other scenario. Like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel, the man wrenches himself to a stop with such force his feet fly up from the ground. The contents of his bulging pack crunch against the earth, but he barely seems to notice he’s fallen, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time he cycles back to his feet.

You stare at each other.

That’s a man all right. Towering even from this distance, with wide shoulders that help the impression. His eyes are round and stunned, the cap on his head knocked slightly askew and freeing sweat-dark curls to spring around his ears.

Your first thought is that he looks warm. Not temperature warm, although the gleam of sweat on his neck confirms that, too. But approachable warm. There’s a softness to his body that belies the muscle his motions highlight, creases around his eyes that wrinkle brown like tree bark in the sun.

Then his dog noses your thigh, reminding you that you have pepper spray in your hand because you’re in the middle of the damn woods with a potentially threating stranger. You risk a half-second glance down to move the canister away from her face.

You regard the man with stony distrust, fear flushing your face and neck with heat. Confrontation makes the blood roar in your ears, but it gradually quiets as he orders the creature away from you. For several more seconds the only sound is rustling leaves.

He clears his throat. “Sorry to startle you,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

His voice doesn’t sound as harsh now that he’s not frantically shouting for his dog. Still you keep your answer short. “Me either.”

His head tilts inquisitively. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?”

That’s a fair question. He has a right to be curious too. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” The man pats her head, and the dog’s ears perk up. “I like to come out here and cook.” Wait, what? Before you have a chance to process that, he continues. “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

You won’t be deterred. “Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” If this is some elaborate murder setup, that’s not a very plausible lie.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

You’re slightly more skeptical than fearful now. You watch silently as the man turns in place, putting the side of his backpack in your line of sight so you can see him fish his phone out. He makes his actions slow and obvious. The white background of an instagram page glows on the screen as he retracts his arm in a throwing pose. Clear eyes meet yours.

What? This guy is just going to...give you his phone, no questions asked? Taken aback, you can feel the deep grooves of a frown between your eyebrows as you consider.

You’re hesitant to reveal the pepper spray, but if there’s still some possibility this is a trick, he might second-guess attacking you if he sees you’re armed. You ready yourself for a catch.

Which you accomplish, easily, his toss landing the phone right in your hands. The dog lurches forward, but this time man has a grip on her collar and she’s forced to halt with a whine.

“Sorry, girl. We’re not playing fetch right now, okay? Sit!” The man doesn’t even seem concerned with monitoring you, looking down seriously at his dog as he speaks.

You keep one eye on them as you turn your attention to the screen. Frankieintheforest, reads the username at the top of the page. Just a guy out in the woods, continues his bio. Well, that’s accurate, anyway. Frankie, huh? You spare him another glance, matching various features of him to the ones in his photos. A broad hand here, sturdy hiking boots there. Several glimpses of the same flannel that’s currently tied to the strap of his backpack. His face in a few group shots. You click on an image which shows Oso parading around a yard with a grinning toddler on her back. “Ferocious beast carries away yet another victim,” quips the caption. An involuntary smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

There are too many photos going too far back for it to be fake. You turn the screen toward him. “Cute kid,” you comment. “Is she yours?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “No,” the man half laughs. “My buddy’s. I’m just the godfather.” A small smile softens his face as he takes in the picture.

Being named godfather was nothing to sneeze at. You study the man carefully, keeping your face neutral. He seems genuine, his dog keen and friendly. Dogs were a good judge of character, right? Indicative of the character of their owner? He hasn’t demanded anything from you, not done anything threatening beyond just being here.

You glance between him and the phone again. “Frankie?” you question.

He raises one hand in a wave, directing a crooked sort of smile at you. “That’s me,” Frankie confirms.

You offer him your name in return. “Uh, you can have this back now.” You gesture with the phone.

He brings his hands up to catch it, and you thank every deity you know of when your throw connects. You’re at a bit of a loss for what to do next, however. You suppose this means you’re at a truce. But you still don’t think you’d be able to let yourself focus on foraging while knowing there’s a stranger wandering so nearby.

Frankie seems to be thinking the same thing. One hand rubs over the back of his neck. “Well,” he begins. “My plans for today were to sit by this pond and cook over a fire.” He points his thumb to the right, where not far away the reflection of sunlight on water wavers against the tree trunks.

“You can join me if you want.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I’m just gonna collect some tinder and then park it, so you don’t have to worry about me interrupting your foraging or anything.”

Oso finally wriggles free of his grasp and surges forward, leaping across to you with a triumphant woof! “Oso, no!” Frankie stumbles after her, only to stop after two steps, clearly unwilling to make you uncomfortable by getting too close. He looks on helplessly, hands flexing.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. This time you offer her your free hand to sniff, which she does, before promptly shoving her head beneath it for pets. Amused, you comply. Her multi-hued fur is soft beneath your fingers.

“You’re alright, aren’t you, Oso?” You dart a self-conscious glance back up to her owner, but he appears content to let you coo at his dog.

“She’s a good judge of character,” Frankie says simply.

You swallow. Those deep brown eyes linger over you, and this is all just a bit...much. “Right. Well. I’m just going to…” you ease back, hoping to convey ‘continue going about your business.’

“Oh, sure!” He takes a little hop backward. “I’ll be...here.” His hand makes a small circling motion to indicate a limited nearby area. “You’ll hear me before you see me. Or Oso.”

Frankie frowns slightly as if something has occurred to him. “Uh, she might want to follow you around today though. I can tie her to a tree if that would bother you? I don’t usually watch her too closely,” he admits sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You realize that you mean it as your thoughts continue to form. “She’ll make for good protection if I meet any more big scary strangers.” You aim the last words down to the dog herself, sending a wry a sidelong glance to said stranger.

He chuckles again, a rasp of a sound like creaking branches. “That’s fair. But I meant it when I said I’ve never seen anyone else in this particular area. You’re pretty safe.” He punctuates his statement with a nod to the canister still in your hand, soft understanding clear in his face.

Your head ducks slightly. “Well,” you say again. ”I’ll..see you around. I guess.” You don’t wait for a farewell, turning to foist your pack back onto your shoulder. You strain your ears for any noise behind you as you flee, but there’s no sound of pursuit.

“Go ahead. Have fun, Oso,” Frankie calls, already at a distance from your quick pace. There’s a distinctly animal scurrying, and then the dog bursts into being by your side.

Your arms wheel as you jump. “Jeez, you are enormous,” you mumble, pausing to pet her again. Discreetly you look over your shoulder in time to see Frankie turn away from you, heading for your pond.

Post note: I know pepper spray is like, super illegal in the UK and other places, but it’s not abnormal to carry around in the US so just pretend it’s fine.

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #outdoors insta frankie

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pagingdoctorbedlam · 3 years

Text

My final potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event is complete! Hope you’re ready for the fluffiest darn thing I’ve written for this fandom (and possibly ever).

Characters: Franky x Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU, Fluff

TW/CW: Mentions of loss/death

Inspiration: Kudos to “A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet” by Becky Chambers for inspiring this fic~

Word Count: 2.7k words

"Alright, we've successfully docked. Good job, crew." You sit up from the captain's chair and gaze out at the starport outside your window. It's been some time since you'd landed on one of the Sabaody Moons, but you've always found the view breathtaking. The moons are more tree than earth, and bubbles slowly float from the roots up toward the stars. While some of the moons are still hives of scum and villainy, others seem almost paradisiacal as beings from far-flung galaxies intermingled in the Sabaody ports.

Before you can get too far from the bridge, the intercom of the Thousand Sunny buzzes to life. It's Franky, the A.I. that runs your ship. "Hey Captain, can I nab a word with ya' before you go on shore leave?"

"Sure thing. Need me here, or down in the core room?"

"Core Room, if ya' don't mind. I've got a super new design to run by you." Though Franky works admirably as a ship A.I., he'd originally been coded to design ships, including the one he now ran, the 1000 Suns (colloquially the Thousand Sunny to you and your crew). Even though his focus is now centered on ship diagnostics and flight procedures, the A.I. still delights in crafting new machine schematics, and you have a rule that he needs your approval before he modifies the ship.

You wave off the rest of the bridge crew, and they're all too eager to touch solid ground again after months in space. You are too, but if Franky's waited this long to check on you, it's likely something for your ears only while the rest of the crew is offboard. You stride through the winding metal hallways that make up the ship's guts, flashing your clearance badge here and there until you are down in the deep bowels of the ship, close enough to the engines that you can hear the machinery thrumming as the ship went through cooldown procedures. It's familiar. You come down here more often than others would expect, enough that you've got a futon and blanket stashed nearby for nights you don't spend in your own cabin.

"Franky? Said you wanted to see me?" You call out as you entered the Core Room. The entire room is covered in segments of a giant computer, with retractable screens and limbs for interacting with others; all of this is Franky. In a way, you're standing in his brain, which is something you try not to think about too much. What catches your attention is that all the screens are down, a rarity when Franky has company.

"Sure do!" His voice echoes, but not from the speakers. "Got a surprise for you. Close your eyes a sec, alright Captain?"

"Franky..." You're sure no other ship A.I.s play games with their commanding officers, but then again, you've yet to meet an A.I. with half the personality Franky has. You close your eyes and cover them with your hands. "Alright, ready when you are."

You expect to hear wheels, a cart with some sort of prototype wheeling into the room. Instead there are footsteps, heavy and so in-sync that it borders on unnatural. Then a hand on your shoulder, warm and soft. Too curious to resist temptation, you open your eyes and peek through your fingers.

"Franky, is this...?"

"An android body? It sure is!" He spins you around and takes a step back so you can take in his full visage. He looks human for the most part, even if the muscles in his forearms are overemphasized and patches of metal poke out from his skin. Still, he has skin, the medical-grade sort often used for replacing lost flesh in humans, and hair that's sculpted into a bright blue pompadour. He must have borrowed clothes from someone in medical too, though he's only wearing a floral patterned shirt, sunglasses, and a speedo. You suppose he was too excited for the big reveal to finish getting dressed.

"You made this, Franky?"

"Yeah, alongside Dr. Chopper and the rest of the medical team, plus Usopp over in Engineering. Surprised none of 'em spilled the beans." He flexes to show off the musculature of his arms. "We'd talked about what happened to your last ship, and figured we should make me a back-up body in case I ever needed to leave the ship with you all. Not that I plan for anything to happen to the Sunny..."

"But better safe than sorry." You still miss Merry, your sweet A.I. lost with your previous ship. She and Franky would've gotten along well, you think. "It's a good plan, I approve."

"Excellent! Now I just need to take it for a spin, test it outside the ship. Seeing as we've docked for the time being..."

Ah. Now you see what he's getting it. Pretty sly, for an A.I. "As your Captain, I'll accompany you on your first excursion out on the spaceport, to make sure everything's in working order." You offer an arm. He raises an eyebrow. "Loop it with mine. Like this...there we go. Now let's get going, shall we?"

Even among the strangest aliens, Franky stands out in his own way at the space docks. This is only partially due to his lack of pants: he claims this is because he designed his legs to vent most of the heat his body builds up, and you wouldn't want him to overheat and faint on his first outing, would you? No, he stands out because even though he's clearly an android, there's an excitement to him that would rival even the most starry-eyed space explorers.

"Would ya' take a look at this, Captain?" You'd expect to find Franky gawking at any number of the docked spaceships, and indeed he's gushed about many of them already. Instead, he directs your attention to one of the tree roots. A trail of iridescent beetles scurry up the bark, and overhead, a couple smaller Southbirds (rare here, likely escaped cargo from the planet Skypiea) call to each other as they watch the busy port below.

"Thought you'd studied all these, Franky." After all, he's a powerful computer who can research multiple ideas at once, and innately curious as any inventor tends to be. And he's asked you and the crew many, many questions about the world beyond his metal hull.

"Yeah, but no matter how advanced the notes and visuals might be, it doesn't compare with the real thing. I mean, look at 'em!" He points at one particular beetle as its shell reflects the lights of the spaceport back with an opalescent sheen. "Even if you could theoretically simulate all this on a computer, most wouldn't think to do so on their own. Out here, stuff just...happens."

You have never seen an A.I. quite so excited about life outside, but then again, you've never met an A.I. quite like Franky. "Yeah, I guess that is pretty exciting when you put it that way. Part of the wonders of space travel; you never quite know what's going to happen out here."

Then a realization hits your brain with the full-bodied force of a supernova. "Franky, you've spent so much time traveling through the stars, but have you ever actually seen them the way we do?"

Franky looks up at the sky overhead. "Hard to see 'em from up here, even if I zoom out my eyes to max. Watch this!" His eyes...actually telescope out of his head. That's a bit disturbing with how human he looks. "Figure that's due to light pollution, though. Pretty bright out here."

"Sure is." You offer your arm to him again. "Come with me; I'll show you how folks groundside go out to look at the stars."

Years ago, you'd come out of the harshest space battle of your life. Your crew narrowly avoided becoming space dust, and after giving her all to save you, you lost Merry. The ship that had been with you since the beginning, the A.I. with the biggest heart you'd ever met. As her files corrupted and her hull fell apart, you'd honored her final wish and set her ablaze once you reached planetside, cremating her as one would a human. You still carry a vial of her ashes on a necklace, so you never forget what you've lost to get this far.

You'd wandered through the streets of the moon of Water 7 in a daze. Hadn't even paid attention where you went as the rest of the crew licked their wounds. Before you knew it, a robotic voice called out to you from the depths of a starship demolition yard.

"What's got you down, Captain? Can't be you're sad to be out among the stars!"

You'd blinked, not recognizing the source of the voice. But you called back, "I just lost someone important to my crew. My ship." You didn't care if most folks didn't see A.I.s as people. Merry had been more than a crewmate to you. She'd been a friend.

Even though the voice emanating from the demo-yard was auto-tuned monotone, it took on a warmer tone somehow. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you say you're looking for a ship? I might be able to help with that." A crackle of static. "And if you'd like, you can tell me about your lost pal. I can't bring 'em back for you...but I've heard that talking about these kinda' things helps."

"You don't even know who I am."

"No one does when they first meet, do they? Speaking of which, call me Franky."

Somehow, pouring your heart out to a stranger was easier than talking to your crewmates. You'd wandered into the heart of the scrapheaps and talked to the mysterious Franky, his voice surrounding you from so many static-filled speakers. You'd watched as overhead, he controlled cranes to start putting pieces of a mighty vessel together. He'd asked about your specifications, what you'd loved about Merry both as a ship and a friend. You'd cried. He did too. And when you'd asked how much the ship would cost, he said the only charge would be that he could come along.

You agreed willingly, overjoyed to have such a skilled shipwright onboard. It was only when you talked to the demo-yard owner that you learned that the person you'd poured your heart out to was an A.I.

That didn't stop you from doing so again once the Thousand Sunny was complete, and Franky took to his new home in his core room. You'd wander down into the depths of the Thousand Sunny whenever you needed a second opinion on the ship or a mission, and soon after that just to talk. You'd spent hours surrounded by the computer that served as Franky's brain for so long, talking and laughing just as you used to with Merry. Except, it was more than that with him. He wasn't just a friend, you'd realized over time. But you'd shoved those thoughts away. It was ludicrous, falling in love with an A.I. whose brain you could walk through, whose body was a starship you controlled with the push of a few buttons.

But now he has a body. You can squeeze his giant hand, and he squeezes back so softly as he gets used to his own strength. He smiles the way you always imagined he would, grinning with pearly white teeth and eyes that (literally) glow with joy.

He follows you with infinite curiosity as you weave through the Sabaody streets and gather supplies for your excursion. You ask about his body's capabilities and discover his fuel source is...astonishingly close to soda, so you pick up a few colas along with some food for you. Franky gets to carry a blanket hand-woven by the locals, and you catch him marveling at the texture when he thinks you aren't looking. Finally, you rent a small paddleboat to traverse the moon with, and a map that lays out the canals and waterways of this particular moon.

"You know, it'd be a lot faster if I rowed," Franky says, mouth quirked into a lopsided grin as your comparatively tiny arms pull the oars back and forth. It's amazingly, how perfectly imperfect he looks, more human than any other android you've seen even with all the metal bits.

"There's an old human adage about the journey being more important than the destination, Franky. Take in the experience."

You watch as his attention zeroes in along the waterways, eyes zooming in on every detail until they're pulled away to something new. You expect him to be interested in the flora and fauna, as opalescent leaves bigger than your boat stretch over the water to shade you from the encroaching moonlight and soft purple creatures vaguely reminiscent of otters circle your boat before chasing each other down the river. But the entire world is new to him, and you find him fascinated by even the dirt or the buzzing insects swarming your head.

"Aww, look. I think it likes me!" Franky lifts one giant finger, where a mosquito (why did those have to be a universal constant?) tries and fails at piercing his skin.

"It probably thinks you're human and is trying to suck your blood," you point out, as the bugs try to use you as a personal juicebox. This only gets Franky to smile. Must feel validating, having even nature recognize him for what he is in his heart.

It takes a bit more rowing, but you finally arrive at your destination. A small island, mostly shore, with a small field and a lone tree with leaves that glow silver in the moonlight. You dock the boat on the shore, then set up the blanket and food for a small picnic. You motion for Franky to sit with you, and can't help but laugh a little at the faces he makes when touching sand for the first time. Then you lay back on the blanket. Franky joins you, and his eyes go wide.

A ribbon of starlight glimmers overhead. Hundreds of constellations twinkle overhead. You'd ask if he knows any, but you keep quiet so you don't break his wonder-filled gaze.

His giant hand encases yours. "Space seems even bigger from here than it does when you're in the middle of it. I mean, look at all those stars! I read that you could see 'em from so far away, but seeing it in person..."

"This is what inspired me to go into space," you say. Your finger drifts up to the brightest star in the sky. "I'd look at that one and say, I'm going to go there someday! Didn't care how far away it was, or even what might be around it. Just wanted to head to the brightest star I could."

Franky narrows his gaze up at that star. "That's over eight light years away. Might take a bit, even with a warp drive like mine. But if that's where you wanna' go? I'll take you anywhere, Captain. Long as we're together, I'll explore every corner of the universe with you."

For a moment, both of you are quiet. The air fills with the gentle rhythm of the flowing water, the buzz of insects, bushes rustling as creatures move in the night. In the distance, the hum of a starship engine taking off from the port; you soon see its lights trail across the sky as it ascends back into that void above, the space that's so comforting because it holds planets and stars and spaceships and you and Franky all together in its embrace.

"I think this is the part where one of us says 'I love you'," Franky says softly.

You smile and squeeze his hand back. "You're such a romantic. But yeah, you're right. And I do. I love you."

"Love you too, Captain. And thanks. For, y'know, helping me be human."

"Franky, you've got more heart than most anyone I know. You're plenty human already. I'm just here to steer you steady. And I always will."

You pass the rest of the night watching the stars overhead. And for the captain and A.I. of a starship, you wouldn't have it any other way.

#seas brew a love potion challenge #bedlam writes #cyborg franky #franky x reader #scifi au #fluff

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nyasha-of-germa-66 · 4 years

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Hello! I just found your blog and I'm in love with it ❤v❤ Could I maybe ask for hcs for Luffy, Law and Kid (separately) with a 45/55 year old friend who's like their mom figure who also lives on an small island with her grandkids and they accidentally called her "mom" in front of their crews and they're embarrassed and later she talks to them alone about not being embarrassed because there's nothing wrong with that? I'm so sorry if this was too much to ask for!

Hello, hello! Hopefully, my failure to post at a reasonable time hasn’t tainted your view of my blog, but if it did... I completely understand haha.~ I really loved this request, it was so wholesome and creative! I hope you’ll enjoy, and thank you so much for the request and your patience! 😁

Accidentally Calling Motherly Friend “Mom” HCs - (Luffy, Law, Kid)

Luffy

Dadan and Makino were perhaps the closest people that Luffy could consider as mother figures, but now he's very close friends with one woman who's motherly inside and out. He sees the way she treats her grandchildren, and he feels as though she treats him in a very similar way.

On top of that, Luffy's crew is always teasing him about how his friend is almost like his mom, the way she frets over him and constantly feeds him along with her grandchildren and the way she hugs and comforts him as if he was actually her son.

With all of his crew's teasing and his friend's motherly personality, it's no wonder that one day Luffy slips up and calls her "mom." He doesn't even realize he's said it until Usopp or Nami points it out to him.

Now, Luffy rarely, if ever, gets embarrassed, so to see his cheeks begin to grow a rosy tint before he pulls his straw hat down to hide his face is truly a strange sight to witness.

Things are a little awkward afterwards with Luffy staying relatively quiet, only speaking when spoken to but with a mopey tone in his voice. He wants to run back to the Thousand Sunny, but he reckons Zoro or Franky will stop him, maybe even Robin, too.

Luffy eventually finds a chance to leave when his friend's grandkids ask him to go outside to play, to which he happily accepts and flees the scene. How could he say something so weird?

Once the children are done playing, they go inside to wash up and grab some snacks while Luffy chooses to stay outside. He's so caught up in his thoughts that he hardly hears his friend walking up to him until she takes a seat next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, startling him quite a bit.

She laughs and asks him why he's outside by himself, and when he tells her its about the embarrassing mishap, she laughs and brings him into a tight hug. Seeing her lighthearted reaction, he'll laugh, too, saying that he doesn't even know why he called her "mom" in the first place since he's never called anyone that before.

As she reassures him that she doesn't mind being called "mom," Luffy's wearing a huge grin on his face and joking about how he's finally found himself a mom.

It's not obvious since Luffy is almost always grinning and laughing, but after this encounter, he's just gleaming with joy. Blood-related or not, anyone who treats him like family would get nothing but the best from him.

Law

From time to time, Law will mourn the loss of his family even after all the years that have passed, especially when it's their birthdays or the anniversary of their death. The death of his family weighs heavily in the back of his mind, but he never once thought he'd become so close to another motherly figure.

Law was surprised at all of the advantages of having a motherly friend to dote on him. He likes to think that he's got his life figured out and that he's capable of handling himself, but he learns so much from this friend that he'll often call her up in search of advice.

His crew absolutely adores his friend and her grandchildren, so they've all pretty much integrated themselves into her family. They even go so far as to call her "mom," too. Unfortunately, the crew's habit of calling her "mom" must've grown on Law subconsciously.

Out of the blue during one of their visits to the small island, Law mistakenly call his friend "Mom" and doesn't even pick up on it. The room suddenly grows quiet as his friend and his crew stare at him in bewilderment.

He's confused at first, and when they reveal to him his slip-up, he looks on with astonishment at his embarrassing mistake. Just what was he thinking!?

His face goes red, of course, because his crew is laughing and teasing him about joining them as his friend's "adopted children." And all he can really do is slump back in his seat and pull his hat down over his face.

Luckily, he's not the center of attention for long since the conversation quickly changes to a new subject, but he replays the memory in his head over and over again, wanting to throw himself into the ocean. With everyone else preoccupied, he makes a quick escape to the other room where he grovels at his mistake.

When his motherly friend enters the room to check on him, he apologizes for making things awkward. He's more than surprised at her lighthearted response saying that she doesn't mind being called "Mom."

It's comforting to hear her say that, and her kindness and acceptance is something he cherishes. He sees his own mom in his friend, and it's almost as if he's been reunited with his deceased mother, just through a whole different person.

Despite the horrible first experience of calling his friend "Mom," Law feels relieved at having someone he can consider family, almost like he's filled a hole in his heart that he never knew he had. And with his friend's fondness toward the nickname, Law decides he'll call her "Mom" but only when the two are alone.

Kid

Kid has never really prioritized making friends or building strong relationships with his family, but he does make one exception for a very special lady.

Sure, she tends to scold him for his reckless behavior and his unprecedented cruelty which gets on his nerves, but he can never bring himself to dislike her in any way. He's much too attached, and the pros of having her as a friend far outweigh the cons.

Her constant encouragement and support of his dreams are more than welcoming to Kid. And for that reason, he's sworn to protect her island and her family, often mentioning that she's the only person to ever get this kind of treatment from him and that she should feel lucky.

One day during a particular visit, Kid is spending his time catching up with his motherly friend, while Killer and a few others are playing with the grandchildren in the same room. Meanwhile, the kids keep calling for their mom to watch them do somersaults despite their mother being in the middle of a story.

She apologizes to Kid for the disruption and turns her attention to her grandchildren for a moment, praising them for their impressive skills before returning to Kid to continue her story.

As Kid was waiting for the mother to finish, he noticed a new picture frame hanging on the wall. Curious, he decides to ask her about it. And in the midst of the children chanting for their mom and Kid preparing to ask his question, he accidentally says, "Hey, Ma, what's-?" He barely manages to catch himself, and it's absolute torture for him.

His face is nearly as red as his hair, and he doesn't even know how to react. He can hear muffled chuckles from his crewmates with Killer trying to shush them. When that fails Killer shoos the children and small group of pirates outside, leaving Kid to pout alone with his friend.

Kid tries to tell her it was an accident and that she ought to forget about it if she knows what's good for her. They're nothing but empty threats, and his friend knows that. So instead, she gives his arm a comforting squeeze and tells him that she doesn't mind if he refers to her as "Ma" since she finds it fitting.

He tries to argue with her, but she uses her motherly skills to quiet his fussing and convinces him to calm down. He's still embarrassed, of course, yet he's now able to calmly ask her to never bring it up again since his crew is likely to poke fun at him later. And she agrees, much to his relief.

It's comforting to know that such a close friend is willing to consider herself family to him. In fact, he's delighted to hear her say that, but Kid feels that it's better if they remain friends. After all, it'd be hard on his friend and her grandchildren if someone they considered family never returned from the seas again. But hey, he now knows someone he can call "Ma."

#one piece headcanons #monkey d luffy #trafalgar law #eustass kid #one piece luffy #one piece law #one piece kid #nyasha of germa 66 #thank you for the ask!

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arrantsnowdrop · 4 years

Text

It’s You I Want - Haldir x. Elf Reader (fluff)

Request: "The reader is maybe a child of Galadriel, and Haldir is quietly trying to pretend he isn't interested in courting them because of their status differences?"

Tags: @headless-twink

Warnings: 3,283 words (I kinda popped off), but other than that nothing

A/N: I gave the reader a brother because I thought being a single child of Galadriel and Celeborn would be lonely as heck, and I didn't wanna subject poor (y/n) to that. This was really fun to write, I do love Haldir a whole lot. Hope y'all enjoy! :D

It was midday in Lothlórien. Lady Galadriel had summoned the High Council to discuss the growing threat to border security posed by the goblins of Moria. The lesser lords and ladies of the forest and the most skilled members of the elven guard had been invited to the Chamber of Celeborn to determine how best to handle the situation.

You, being the eldest of Lady Galadriel’s children, had also been invited to attend. Though you were still quite young for an elf, you were destined to assume leadership of one of Lórien’s sectors when you were older. There was also always the possibility something could happen to either of your parents and you would take their place. Your mother saw these meetings as a way to introduce to you the responsibilities of leadership.

And that is how you found yourself stuck inside a rather dark, somber looking hall in the middle of the most sunny day Lothlórien had seen in quite some time. You almost wished you hadn’t agreed to attend, but you did recognize it was a privilege to be allowed to listen to the conversations of the High Council. You were sitting around a large wooden table in a chair next to Galadriel’s. The members of the elven guard had been sharing their experiences with the goblins thus far.

“What I am gathering,” Lord Celeborn said thoughtfully, “is that the curiosity of these orcs is growing every day.”

“Every night my patrol watches them grow closer to our borders, my Lord,” one elf added. Lord Celeborn nodded.

“We seem to have two main options, if I may detail them further,” Iachion, one of the senior marchwardens, said tentatively. Galadriel nodded for him to continue.

“Thank you, my Lady. We can either send troops out of Lothlórien to meet the orcs now, or wait until they cross our borders to attack,” he said.

“If I may, Iachion, those options seem to be on very opposite ends of the same spectrum,” you observed. “I’m sure there is some action we can take that will ensure our safety for the time being without risking so many lives.” You looked to your mother for approval on your comment, who gave you a small smile.

“I agree with (Y/n),” came a familiar voice at the opposite end of the table. There sat Haldir, head of the northern patrol. He too was a younger elf, one who had earned his place in the High Council through his much admired leadership in the elven guard.

“My patrol has discussed the actions of the orcs several times these past weeks, perhaps I could share our consensus on the situation,” he offered.

“Go on, Haldir,” your mother said.

“We believe it would be wise to increase the patrol groups in the northern and western woods, especially at night, so that the orcs do not go unmonitored,” he began.

“Yes , but monitoring the orcs will not deter them,” Iachion interrupted. You grinned as Haldir rolled his eyes slightly.

“As of now, the orcs are still quite a distance from our borders. They seem accustomed to the dark, and only travel so far from the mines that they can still return during the night,” Haldir added.

“How many nights then would it take for them to reach our borders?” Lord Celeborn asked.

“At least two, they do not travel lightly,” one elf said.

“I feel it would be unwise to take action with violent intent when the orcs do not seem keen on coming closer. As (Y/n) put it, we would be risking the lives of our own in a confrontation that might not even come to fruition otherwise,” Haldir stated.

“I agree with Haldir, mother,” you said, looking at Galadriel.

“As do I, it is always important to maintain nonviolence unless it is unavoidable,” she said thoughtfully. “The council will vote on the plan Haldir proposed, unless there is a desire for further discussion.”

You met Haldir’s gaze from across the table and offered him a small smile, brows furrowing when he looked away quickly.

“The decision carries, we will increase border patrols to monitor the orcs, but take no further action unless they grow closer,” Galadriel said, standing up to dismiss the meeting.

You got up quickly, intending to go over and compliment Haldir on his strategy, but by the time you reached the other end of the table he was nowhere to be seen.

~~~~~

By the end of the week, you found yourself practically living in the seemingly endless library of Lothlórien. Your mother has asked you and your younger brother Lodatôr to research the historical differences between the different branches of elves (“Just because you were not there to experience it does not mean it is not important to know,” your mother had said). Though you’d found the assignment rather trivial to begin with, you’d quickly become fascinated with the subject.

Your most recent read was a first-hand account by a Teleri elf who traveled to Aman, and the emotional struggle he went through after his sister abandoned the march. The work was fueled with passion and sorrow, and you understood why so many of the book’s pages were littered with tear stains.

Luckily, you had reached the end without crying too much (as your brother had poked fun at you everytime you began to tear up). You stood up from your chair to put the book back on its shelf.

“Did he make it to Aman?” Lodatôr asked from across the small table you were sharing. He too has been intrigued by the subject and was reading a book about the elves who refused to embark on the Great Journey.

“Yes, thank goodness, I was beginning to think he would turn back to try and find his sister,” you said shakily. The last few pages of the book had been quite emotional.

“Good for him,” your brother said matter-of-factly, returning his attention to the book in front of him. You chuckled softly.

Lórien’s library had been built around one of the many great trees in Caras Galadhon. The library was only slightly younger than Galadriel herself, and the further down the tree you went, the older the books got. Your particular autobiography was from the Years of the Trees, which preceded the First Age of Middle Earth. In any regard, you had a long journey down.

The particular shelf you were looking for was nearly at the bottom of the tree, which was always rather quiet - not many elves spent their free time reading about Middle Earth before the time of the Ring, especially since half of them had lived through it themselves. Others, like yourself, were not bestowed with the memory of such times. You almost laughed remembering one specific instance when Lodatôr argued with your parents over deciding to have children after the beginning of the First Age.

You turned into the area your book was from, jumping back in surprise at the sight of another elf perusing the shelves. He looked up in surprise, you grinning at the sight of the familiar blonde elf.

“Hello, Haldir, I’m sorry for startling you,” you said softly. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else this low in the library.”

He stared at you for a moment before nodding and looking back at the books in front of him.

You slid past him, placing the book back into its designated space. Your gaze trailed to the novel next to it, gasping with delight when you saw it had been written by the sister of the aforementioned Teleri elf.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” Haldir asked with mild concern. You grinned at him and nodded.

“I hadn’t realized my book had a sequel of sorts, just got a little excited is all,” you said bashfully. He nodded again and looked away. You paused, biting your lip at the awkward pause in conversation.

“It’s about one of the Teleri elves,” you finally said, feeling the need to break the silence. His gaze met yours for a third time. You looked down at the new book in your hand.

“He was making the Great Journey with his family but his sister abandoned the trail in the Misty Mountains. And this book is written by said sister,” you added.

“Sounds...interesting,” Haldir stated. He was definitely uninterested, and you felt quite embarrassed for intruding upon his free time.

You nodded curtly before rushing past him and up the stairs, cursing yourself for being so talkative. What you failed to see was Haldir watching you longingly as you left, before turning his gaze to the book you had just returned and picking it up himself.

~~~~~

By the time the next High Council meeting came to pass, you had become thoroughly confused by the blonde marchwarden.

After your encounter in the library, you had tried to provoke conversation with him several times. All had been failures in your opinion.

You’d concluded that Haldir must have been introverted, or uninterested in socializing. This made sense, of course - his thoughts were likely preoccupied with the many important tasks he was charged with and he probably didn’t want to spend time distracting himself from them.

And yet, there he was, standing across the room, freely conversing with several other elves about those trivial affairs you had thought bored him. Or that seemed to bore him whenever you tried to talk to him.

You turned to your brother, who had also been invited to this particular meeting.

“Have you ever had a conversation with Haldir?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Lodatôr asked, not quite paying attention. He was always bored at these meetings, constantly zoning out in the middle of discussions.

“I said have you ever talked with Haldir, the marchwarden of the north,” you insisted.

“Oh yes, many times,” he said thoughtfully. “Just last week I caught him leaving the library and we had a pleasant conversation about the eastward expansion of the city.”

“Oh,” you said softly, stomach sinking.

“Why?” he asked curiously.

“I’m just curious, I’ve seen him at a few of these meetings and I was considering introducing myself,” you lied.

“You should! He’s quite fun to be around,” your brother noted. You nodded, watching Haldir laugh at something one of the young ladies of the court had said. You despised the feeling of jealousy that stirred within you.

You couldn’t focus the entire meeting. It was obvious Haldir didn’t like you for some reason; he was clearly a social elf and yet he avoided talking to you at all costs.

Had you done something to offend him in some way? Or said something that upset him? While you’d never been close to him, he was at nearly all the meetings you were asked to attend. Perhaps he had assumed you were entitled and spoiled, like so many of the younger elves in Lothlórien did.

“(Y/n)?”

Your head snapped up, wide eyes meeting those of your mother.

“Yes?” you asked bashfully.

“I asked, are you feeling alright? You look more pale than usual,” she said jokingly, with underlying concern. You looked around the table to see the elves of the court watching you intensely, Haldir included. You gulped, suddenly feeling quite small.

“May I be excused?”

At the nod of your mother you stood up abruptly, rushing out of the room before anyone could say anything.

You felt quite overwhelmed as you walked back up to your family’s flet, high up in the trees of Lórien. You also felt stupid, which was uncommon for any elf. You had been trying to socialize with Haldir for several weeks, and yet it had taken you this long to realize he did not enjoy your company.

You sat on your bed for several hours, watching as the sun sank below the treetops and trying to pinpoint what you had done to lose Haldir’s favor.

It was dark outside when Lodatôr walked into your room.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly, sitting down next to you. “You rushed out awfully fast.”

“I’m fine now,” you said, not completely a lie this time. You were feeling better, finally coming to terms with the fact Haldir probably hated you for whatever reason.

“Haldir wanted me to tell you to feel better soon,” he said. You glared at him sternly.

“Don’t joke with me, Lodatôr.”

“I’m not joking,” he said slowly, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. “He came up to me after the meeting was dismissed asking if you were sick, and when I said I didn’t know he asked me to tell you to feel better.”

You were at a complete loss for words, mouth hanging slightly agape.

“(Y/n)-”

“Are you kidding me?” you said loudly, standing up from your bed and beginning to pace around the room.

“What is going on with you?” Lodatôr asked, also standing up, now extremely concerned about your mental wellbeing.

“All month I’ve been trying to talk to Haldir,” you seethed, “and I had finally concluded that he must just be socially reserved, but clearly that isn’t the case!”

“Well then, what is the case?” your brother inquired.

“I had just decided that he must despise me but now apparently he’s concerned about me, and I don’t know what that means!” you shouted, slamming your hand against the wall for emphatic effect.

“Oh my gosh,” Lodatôr grinned.

“Oh my gosh what?” you grumbled.

“I think he likes you.”

You gasped and whipped around, looking at your brother incredulously.

“That is most certainly not the case!” you retorted. His eyes widened and he began to laugh.

“Oh my gosh, I think you like him, too!” he exclaimed, doubling over laughing.

“Get out! Right now!” you roared, lunging at him as he scrambled out the door.

“Just talk to him!” he called as he sprinted down the hallway. You slammed the door shut and flopped onto your bed, groaning into your pillow.

Lodatôr was right, you definitely liked Haldir. There were plenty of elves who didn’t like you and you had never cared about them, and yet the mere possibility that Haldir might not like you was crushing.

Also, he was stunningly attractive. That was indisputable.

What Lodatôr said had confused you, though; he was rarely wrong when it came to understanding people (a gift you clearly did not possess), but was it possible Haldir liked you?

Before falling asleep you came to the conclusion that you needed to confront Haldir, because at least then you would know for sure - if he truly despised you, you could always ask your parents to send you off to Rivendell and study with Elrond for the next century or two.

~~~~~

The next morning you felt both determined and nervous, but you had already begun your trek down into the center of Caras Galadhon. You were walking quite fast, so it would look odd if you turned back now.

You knew Haldir was not scheduled to leave the city until noon, so it was just a matter of finding him.

“Excuse me,” you said, interrupting two young elves who you recognized from Haldir’s patrol, “have you seen Haldir this morning?”

“Yes, your grace,” one of them replied. “He said he was heading to the library to return a book.”

“Thank you!” you replied, bidding them both a good day before turning in the direction of the library.

The elf at the front desk had seen Haldir go down the building’s spiral steps, and thus down you went, nerves rapidly increasing every floor you passed.

You were beginning to think you might not even see him, that you were probably wasting your time, when you accidentally skipped a step and collided with another elf on the stairs.

You let out a small shriek, body crashing into a rather broad chest, their hands gripping your shoulders to catch you.

“I am so sorry,” you began to apologize, looking up into Haldir’s bright blue eyes. Your eyes widened.

“Are you hurt, (Y/n)?” he asked, his rather large hands still on your shoulders.

You were both panting slightly - the stairs of the library were not easy on the lungs.

You blinked once, twice, trying to come up with something to say, before deciding to throw caution to the wind.

“Do you dislike me?” you asked genuinely, almost cringing at how pathetic you sounded.

“Excuse me?” he asked, looking more concerned if that was possible.

“You just, you seem to be a fairly social elf, but you always avoid talking to me,” you rambled, “and it’s not like you’re obliged to like me but it’s starting to hurt my feelings-”

Haldir pulled you into one of the shelves swiftly as another elf made his way down the stairs. You gulped, looking up at him in the confined space.

“I just wanted to know if I had said or done something to make you upset, and to apologize if that’s the case,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. “I've come to like you a lot, and I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

A pause. You felt like you might implode because of your nervous energy.

“I don’t dislike you,” he replied genuinely, tenderly brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You looked back up at him in surprise.

“Really?” you asked hopefully. He chuckled a bit.

“Yes, (Y/n), you’re joyful and witty and ridiculously clever, I’m rather fond of you honestly,” he admitted. Now he was the one looking at the ground.

“Haldir, are you blushing?” you teased.

“Stop it,” he grinned, looking back up at you, a light pink spreading across his cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I made you think I disliked you, that was never my intention,” he apologized, looking at you like you were the most important thing in the world. “I was afraid of growing attached, which sounds selfish now that I’m saying it out loud,” he said, making a disgusted face. You laughed lightly.

“But that doesn’t matter now because I grew attached anyways,” he said, not meeting your gaze.

"Why would that be a problem?” you asked seriously.

“Because you are the child of two of the most powerful and respected elves in Middle Earth,” he said bluntly, “and I am a member of the elven guard.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m not good enough for you,” he clarified, “and every time I think about you, about how much I want to court you, I realize any lord could provide you with a much better life than I ever could.”

“Haldir,” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his face softly, “It’s you I want, not some prissy member of the court.”

“Your parents-”

“My parents won’t care,” you interrupted. “They are wise, and my mother taught me to love people for who they are, not what they have.”

“(Y/n),” Haldir whispered softly.

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

You smiled and nodded, eyes closing softly as Haldir leaned down, bringing his lips to yours and pulling you into him.

“You are the most beautiful and intense being I have ever met,” he mumbled against your lips. You laughed and buried your face into the crook of his neck, trying to pull him as close to you as possible.

“I read your book,” he said softly. You pulled away and looked at him quizzically.

“The one about the Teleri elf?” you inquired.

“Yes, that one,” he nodded, smiling.

“Oh my gosh, you read my book!” you squealed, beaming with excitement.

“Tonight, after my patrol ends, would you like to come over and discuss it?” he asked, gazing at you adoringly.

“I would love that, Haldir.”

#haldir x reader #haldir #lord of the rings #lothlorien #lorien #fluff #oneshot #fanfic

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 4 years

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🔥, 🌹 and 😊 For Marcia, Agatha and Vita please!! ((P.s. I love your OCs and Fandorm!! It's super interesting and cool!! I can't wait to know more about it!!))

Thank you! That’s so sweet! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

🌹 How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone?

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC generally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy?

Marcia: My likes, huh? It’s gotta be broom racing and cartography!

Vita: How predictable.

Marcia: Haha, maybe, but it’s the truth! There’s really nothing better than feeling the wind in your face as you tear through the sky. That’s why sunny weather is the best! It’s much harder to steer your broom when it’s raining or snowing.

Vita: I see. ‘Tis be the reason you always appear discontent when the first snow settles upon Walpurga?

Marcia: Eh?! How did you know that, senpai?!

Vita: My dear Agatha told me.

Agatha: ... Hehehe...

Marcia: Ah, that explains it. Well, yeah. When the first snowflakes start falling then it means it’s time to put high-altitude flying on hold. It’s really too bad...

As for the other questions: I like anything that’s red since it’s our dorm colour and that of my uniform! I prefer fibrous, but as long as it’s healthy I won’t complain. Energetic music that you can use for workouts is always my first choice and well, I really like planetariums!

Vita: Hm, ‘tis be why I often spot you in the school observation tower?

Marcia: Haha, busted! You sure have a discerning eye, senpai!

Vita: And you most certainly have a lot of spirit. ‘Tis explains why you are popular with the underclassmen.

Marcia: You think so? Mm, I don’t think it’s really anything that great though. Getting along with others has always been my strong point.

Agatha: Ugh...

Marcia: Haha, sorry Agatha. Didn’t mean to come off as condescending.

Vita: ‘Tis quite impressive how you maintain such an optimistic disposition, might I say.

Marcia: Eh? That’s the third compliment you’ve given me today, senpai. Are you looking to butter me up or something?

But, yeah, I guess I try my best to keep positive since it’s what my old man would want. He would always tell me that a cheerful disposition could solve almost any problem, so whenever I was feeling down he would try to help me work through my feelings.

There’s a trick I learned from him. It still helps me now. First he got me to try and look at the tip of my nose, then from that point I should draw in my mind a line that goes up and follow it until I lost sight of it among the clouds. And while I would still try to catch a glimpse of it he would say ‘See! You did it! You’re already looking up instead of down.’

It was so corny I couldn’t help but laugh every time.

Vita: What a heartwarming tale of parental guidance.

Marcia: Haha, why does it sound so condescending when you put it like that, senpai?

Vita: Hm. I wonder~

Well, then, how about you my dear Agatha?

Agatha: ... Eh?

Vita: I am already aware of your food preferences. But I have always been curious about your fondness for antiques. Is there a special reason behind it?

Agatha:..................................................................

Vita: ...

Agatha: ..................................................................

It’s... pretty...

Vita: Ah, mere aesthetic fascination. How cute.

Agatha: .......... Even though....... humans.......... are like this............ they make a lot of beautiful............ things.............

I used to.................. collect it............. back home too............ whatever washed................ down.......... from the shore............

But.........

Vita: Hm?

Agatha: Humans..... always got mad....... when they found out.......

Marcia: Huh? Did you perhaps steal them- Woah! Don’t lunge at me all of a sudden like that! You gave me a scare!

Vita: Agatha, ‘tis not proper to attack people like that. Marcia, dear, please refrain from accusing your schoolmates of being thieves.

Agatha: ........ Sorry........ Big Sis.......

Marcia: Sorry......

Vita: ‘Tis good you apologized. But I cannot deny I understand your frustration. You see, Marcia, dear, being accused of being a thief is 12th on my Agatha’s list of things she dislikes the most.

Marcia: E-Eh? There’s a list?

Vita: Indeed. In no particular order, Agatha’s dislikes are: bright lights, loud sounds, brown shoes, foggy weather, soft food and the colour blue.

Marcia: T-That’s... You’ve really got a good memory, senpai...

Vita: ‘Tis only natural I would remember my Agatha’s preferences and dislikes, is it not? Despite her fearsome appearance, she truly has the heart of a beautiful pearl. And yet people always try to avoid interacting with her...

Agatha: ..... It’s......... fine.......

As long as............. Big Sis is.......... with me............ I don’t........... mind........

Vita: My, that is a wonderfully charming confession, but I must insist on reminding you of the reason you have remained in the human world.

Agatha: ......................

Vita: I simply wish for you to expand upon your circle of companions. You are after all a charming and delightful young lady and ‘tis time others take stock of this too.

Agatha: ...................... Heh.

Vita: Ah, ‘tis much better. I always wish you would show people this pleasing smile.

Marcia: ........ I don’t really get it, but at least they seem to get along.

Marcia: And what about you, senpai?

Vita: Hm? I am afraid there is little to be gained from questioning me. I am frightfully dull.

Marcia: Huh? On the contrary! There are a lot of weird things about you, senpai!

Vita: Are there? I have never realized. I believe myself to be quite normal.

Marcia: .... I-I see.

Vita: You see, I enjoy literature and dancing as any proper young lady of a noble family. I have a fondness for the darkest of shades. Stormy weather is most agreeable, of course.

Marcia: What kind of books do you like, senpai?

Vita: A little bit of everything. ‘Tis important to keep one informed. After all, you must be capable of holding conversations with people from all walks of life.

Marcia: Mm. I did notice that now that you mention.

Vita: Hm? What precisely did you notice?

Marcia: That even though you look intimidating, you still manage to socialize with a lot of people.

Vita: It does one good to maintain as many friendly relations as possible. One never knows when you might require a favour or two.

Marcia: So it’s mostly professional interest?

Vita: Depends. ‘Tis most certain however that a part of them are motivated by other reasons than simple compassion.

Marcia: Woah! You said that so boldly. I gotta say, I’m surprised not more people are annoyed with you, senpai.

Vita: Do not be a fool. There are those that see my behaviour as uncouth or disagreeable, but I pay them no mind. Maggots deserve no recognition other than when your boot crushes them.

Marcia: ... To think you said that with a smile on your face. Though, then again, I rarely see you frown.

Vita: ‘Tis proper to maintain a friendly disposition when entertaining others. But ‘tis true that I am in especially good mood today since I shall join my dear husband in a ‘raid’.

Marcia: Raid? You mean like in a video game?

Vita: Obviously. ‘Tis my duty as his betrothed to ensure his victory by any means necessary. Or his defeat. It depends on my mood, to be frank with you.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanschool #walpurga nacht academy #marcia pyroeis #vita dies #agatha voisin #kriegskald #noctasis #eliksia #ask game #ask

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aspaceformyselffics09 · 4 years

Text

A request for my princess: Part one - Youngjae

A/N: So, Hi there guys! First off, so sorry I’ve been MIA (Missing in action) over the past couple of weeks. I’ve been loaded with work, almost working for 14 to 15 hours a day. Plus, my depression had hit me at it’s worst. One of the reasons I couldn’tpick myself up to write at all. But I’m so glad I found some time to do that now. And secondly, I normally don’t write for other fandoms but GD had been one of my favourites since a long time and I also made a little exception for my dear princess @little-dragon-stories as she requested this wonderful scenario ages ago. Sorry love, I took so long to write. I hope you like it. Also, guys she’s amazing! Please do check her out when you have the time to.

Summary: As a part of a birthday surprise, you take your little 6 year old friend to a G - Dragon fansign event. But what happens when you loose the said kid in a huge crowd and then find yourself run into the man himself?

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff and fluff

Warnings: None here

Word count: 1.8k

OH MY GOD THAT’S G - DRAGON!

Those were the first words that left Youngjae’s mouth the moment you stopped your car. The six year old sitting next to you was bouncing and rocking up in his seat, his eyes glittering like sparkles, darting everywhere around the area, breathing it in. It was a bright sunny day. The morning sky was clear with a few occasional clouds hanging here and there while the breeze felt fresh on your face. Youngjae now excitedly pulled off his seat belt, opened the door and practically bolted out of the car without waiting for you.

“Youngjae!” You called after him, but the kid paid no heed, “Wait for me!”

Sighing to yourself, you turned off the ignition, pulled your seat belt off and hastily got yourself out of the car. After making sure your car is locked and secure, you scurried after the hyper excited kid. By the time you caught up to him, he was standing in front of a life sized poster hung near the entrance of the building, clapping his little hands in excitement.

“Auntie!” He squealed, his voice bubbling with excitement, “It’s G - DRAGON!!”

“Yes sweetie,” You said, stopping next to him, trying to catch your breath, “That’s your dragon there.”

Youngjae’s face lit up like a thousand suns and he rushed forward to hug the poster. You laughed delightedly at his antics and brought out the camera to take some pictures. It was a camera his mother handed to you before you left, asking you to get lots and lots of pictures of her little munchkin meeting his favourite star. And through the lens, you gazed softly at the boy in front of you. He was running around the open area, his face erupting in bright delightful smiles. Giggling and stumbling on his feet, his eyes delirious with elation. He was wearing a shirt that proudly showed off a G - Dragon print written in bold letters, a pair of shorts and some shoes.

“I want him to know I’m a huge huge huge fan!” He insisted as he pulled his tee on and puffing out his chest, “I want him to know I love him a lot!”

“Oh honey! I bet your dragon already knows you love him,” His mom cooed as she got him ready.

“He does?!” Youngjae exclaimed, his face set in determination.

“Of course Youn!” You offered from where you were standing at the door.

Youngjae’s mom would love to see her boy so happy, you thought as you brought the camera down. It had been a while since the kid had the freedom to run around like that, or laugh like that or eat or do whatever the kids who are his age normally do.

That’s right Youngjae was special.

He always was.

Perhaps for kids like him, playgrounds, schools or hobby classes were their normal habitats. But as for Youngjae, ever since you’ve known him, it was always either the hospitals or the four walls of his house. He came to you, his attending physician when he was just a baby, suffering from a bad heart condition that left him unable to enjoy a typical childhood. But, Youngjae was a strong kid. He never complained, he never cried. Whatever life threw at him, he embraced it wholeheartedly. Sure there were times, he was confused why he couldn’t do things other children did, there were times it frustrated him to no end and he would cry a lot. But then again, anybody in Youngjae’s position would do the same. As the days passed by, with every visit and all the time the boy spent in the hospital, you found yourself getting attached to the boy. Beyond just a patient and a doctor. You now cared for him like family, as if he’s your own little nephew.

And today, as a part of his birthday you brought him to this special solo event by Big bang’s leader G - Dragon. Youngjae always loved Big Bang and especially G - Dragon. He first came across the leader’s voice through a radio that was playing softly in your room. You had just gone out to speak to your colleague regarding work and came back to Youngjae sitting quietly on his chair while bouncing his legs and softly humming the tune to himself. The scene in front of you instantly put a smile on your face. It isn’t that Youngjae never reacted to music but it was the fact that this particular voice calmed him. It made him serene. The boy who would otherwise ask you a hundred questions or keep jumping around everywhere is sitting quietly by himself humming a tune. And that was when you knew it. Whoever this voice belonged to, it impacted this little boy somewhere deep inside. It resonated in a place where no one was able to reach. Ever since then, Youngjae took to listening to the voice like a ritual, he gushed about G - Dragon at your every visit or bounce around everytime Big Bang or GD appeared on the TV screen.

“Auntie!” Youngjae chirped, during one of your sessions. He was sitting on the edge of the examination bed, his legs dangling down.

“Yes sweetie,” You looked up from where you were going through a couple of your patient files.

“Do you think I can someday meet G - Dragon??” He asked, staring off somewhere into the distance.

“You want to meet him honey?” You ask him, your voice tender, your eyes softly gazing at the boy in front of you.

“Yes!” He perked his head up, a bright glint forming in his eyes, “I’d like to if I can one day.”

And that was all it took for you to immediately book some tickets when the leader announced his solo event in Seoul along with a fan sign event. This was a perfect opportunity to let the kid have his wish come true.

It seemed that you were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the crowds that began to pour into the venue. Shoving the camera into your bag you absentmindedly reached for Youngjae only to realize he’s not around you anymore.

It didn’t hit you at first. You just stared at the empty spot beside you, blinking once, twice and thrice. Around you, the crowds grew while people blended into each other. And that was when it hit you.

You just lost Youngjae.

A six year old kid.

In a huge venue,

Filled to the brim with crowds.

Dressed in a black overcoat, sunglasses and a black mask covering his face, Jiyong carefully peeked from behind the clothes rack he was hiding at, to scrutinize his surroundings. Turning to his left, his eyes swept over the area, scanning the place for any manager, crew member or anyone he can recognize. When he spotted no one in sight, he turned to his right and inspected once again. No one, area clear. Sighing in relief he tiptoed his way out of his hiding spot only to quickly duck behind an open closet nearby when a random manager along with a staff walked by.

“Is everything set?” The manager asked while scribbling on his hand book, not really sparing a glance at the staff following him.

“Yes Manager - nim, Jiyong - ssi’s wardrobe is all set,” The staff relayed, “The makeup artists are ready and the stage is all done too.”

“Good,” The manager nodded continuing to scribble, “Make sure there are no set backs anywhere, so that Jiyong - ssi can go through his set routine with the utmost ease and comfort.”

“Yes sir, we’ll make sure to give him our best care.”

Once the manager and the staff are out of earshot, Jiyong slumped to the ground in relief. Thank goodness! They were not looking for him! Huffing out a breath, he pulled himself up and rushed out of the venue through the back door.

Freedom!

At last!

Fresh air and sunshine!

It’s everything he needs right now.

The past few weeks had been really hectic for Jiyong. With all the back to back meetings, recordings, rehearsals, photoshoots, dress fittings, interviews, TV shows, travelling, etc. All in all, it’s safe to say that there had not been one day where Ji felt like he could breathe, not one day where he properly had time for himself. Hell, he barely even stepped inside his own home in the last five days. His million dollar apartment, his safe space, his comfort. He missed lazing around on the sofa, he missed painting whenever he wanted to, he missed his cat, he missed everything. So, to say that Ji is desperate for some peace and tranquility is an understatement. He’s very, very, very, very, desperate.

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Jiyong checked the area around him once more to see if there’s anyone searching for him. When he found no one in sight, he turned around and began to stroll around the place with no particular aim in mind, breathing in his surroundings and simply enjoying them. It felt rejuvenating, the atmosphere, the cold wind whipping across his face, the tranquility, peace, It felt good. It felt nice, almost similar to paradise. Soon, it wasn’t long before he found a bench to settle upon. A brief glance at his watch told him that there’s still an hour before the event officially begins. Which means, the more time he can spend dilly-dallying around.

Thus thinking so, he made himself comfortable on the little bench and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that finally caught up to him or perhaps it was the warmth in the atmosphere that finally eased itself into the very pores of his skin. As he felt the tension in his shoulders fade away into relaxation, his eyes began to drop lulled by the breeze that blew past him, while softly caressing his hair. It was warm, the calmness engulfing him like a warm fleece blanket. His eyes finally closing and his very being carried into a world of dreams.

Barely had he closed his eyes, Jiyong felt a slight tug to the edge of his sleeves. Unsure of whether he really felt it and also unwilling to open his eyes, he decided to ignore it. He is too deep in dreamland to care. But then, the tug came again. This time making him wonder if it’s time already. But something isn’t right. If an hour had already passed by, his crew would have turned the whole place upside down looking for him. And they sure as hell won’t just be tugging his sleeves but shoving him towards the dressing room by now. So, to conclude, this isn’t a manager and he’s not going to bother.

A heartbeat later.

The tug followed again, this time a bit more consistent and persuasive. Jiyong huffed, blowing out a breath, disgruntled. Who dares disturb his sleep? He slowly opened his eyes and blearily eyed the figure standing in front of him. And to his surprise, standing in front of him was a 45 inch tall, huge G - Dragon T - shirt wearing, proudly standing, little boy staring right back at him!

Youngjae...

#kwritersworldnet #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon fanfic #gdragon #kwon jiyong #jiyong x reader #jiyong fluff #jiyong fic #bigbang

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twiwrite · 4 years

Photo

CHAPTER ONE; 711 DAYS.

This is a house of collections. Artwork, books, instruments, albums, sheetmusic, clothing, exotic plants -- the Cullens have collected a museums’ worth.

Words: 3.7K Warnings: you may develop a cavity after consuming this sugary shit.

CONTINUE READING ON; FANFICTION | A03

FULL PIECE BELOW THE CUT;

FORKS, WASHINGTON SEPTEMBER, 1950.

This is a house of collections. Artwork, books, instruments, albums, sheet music, clothing, exotic plants -- the Cullens have collected a museums’ worth.

In the past few days, I’ve made myself particularly familiar with the clothes. Oh, the clothes! They’ve got closet after closet of coats and shoes and dresses I could only ever dream of wearing -- more than a family of five could ever possibly need.

I’ve concluded that the closet right off the master bedroom is the most fantastic of them all. It’s about the size of the little house Jasper and I shared -- but with higher ceilings, and a nicer paint job.

Every shelf of the master closet is full, every hanger turned in the same direction. There’s every colour, and fabric, and style of clothing imaginable, and each piece is arranged with care and forethought; by season, then by routine. Hats up top. Outfits right below. Shoes on the bottom. Special occasion items are tucked in the back, and their ample jewellery collection is displayed on its own little table. It’s a room fit for royalty, and I’m desperately jealous.

I’d give anything to have a closet like this.

The first time I saw it, I couldn’t contain my excitement. It poured out of me so loud and so pure, that I was compared to a child on Christmas. In the time since, I’ve longed to spend a full day — maybe longer — lost within that fabric forest.

I’ve managed a quick peek every now and then, but each and every time, my plans to explore further are foiled by a Cullen, curious to find their newest housemate.

I see them coming, and I’m back to something less suspicious before anyone catches me in the midst of my foolish little games.

Today is different. I’ve got ample time to explore, totally unencumbered. No one is here except Jasper and I. The Cullens have left for a hunt, and we’ve been trusted to care for their big house of belongings in the meantime. And while I miss my new family -- which I truly do -- it’s nice to just be, without Edward in my head, or Rosalie nervously eyeing my every step. I’ve got room to breathe, if I wanted to.

Jasper and I had planned on using our day to venture towards town without the added pressure of prying tawny eyes, but late last night I saw that his mind had changed -- that he was no longer ready for such an important experiment -- and so today has become a day of adventure right here, in the safety of the big house. I don’t mind. We can try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. We certainly have the time.

For Jasper, a day in means a day lost in Carlisle’s study, with his nose pressed to the page of a book. He’s happy in there. I can feel it radiating through the whole house, like a sweet cross-breeze, and so I leave him undisturbed. Besides -- when Jasper gets a book in his hands, or any good opportunity to learn, nothing will distract him, not even me. Not unless its got a racing pulse.

Luckily, there’s none of that here.

So, really, it’s just me and the belongings.

I take the opportunity to dig deep into Esme and Carlisle’s regal closet. I peek into garment bags and hat boxes, rifle through scarves and gloves and trays full of accessories, and take the time to scrutinize every single piece of clothing.

A few are so new you can still smell the store on them, others are old as me. Some of Carlisle’s suits might be older than that, still. Jasper’s age, at least, and so well-kept that any untrained eye would think they were fresh from the haberdashery.

The older pieces smell of their owners day to day -- for Esme, it’s a plethora of floral scents. Rosehip. Lavender. Peony. All of which she grows in abundance, in the garden tucked up against the house. Carlisle was harder to make out at first, but after spending a few hours lost in his belongings, I managed to place it. Castile soap and antiseptic. Iodine, I think. It’s strange, at first, almost too clean, but then I notice something underneath all that — something cold, and sort of sweet.

I bury my nose into one of his tweed jackets and inhale deeply. The powerful tangle of scents caught on Carlisle’s jacket waft over me and settle in, but I make the point to take another draw — even deeper this time — to try and distinguish each individual odour. First I make out the rich scent of vanillin that oozes from his study, and then it hits me — mint, from the plant sitting on the kitchen windowsill.

Below all that — rosehip, lavender, and peony, all embedded deep in the fabric of his jacket. I smile, and the tweed tickles my mouth. That’s Esme, lingering on. It makes sense — the two are never more than a foot apart. She’s left her mark on him in more ways than one.

Once I’m satisfied, I tuck Carlisle’s jacket back into place and move on to do the same with a particularly lovely sage green dress.

This one is brand new. It still smells of sweaty human hands and nondescript, chemical perfumes.

I keep on digging, and searching, and enjoying, and eventually I land at the table where Esme keeps her collection of trinkets and jewels. I look at them, all shiny and perfect, and I think how lucky she is to have such beautiful things.

I commit myself to just looking — that is, until I notice the glimmer of a pearl tucked beneath the edge of a satin headscarf.

I’ve always loved pearls.

Before I know it, the most pleasing peal-adorned hairpin is resting in my hands.

My heart doesn’t beat, but it does squeeze at the sight.

It feels familiar, like it’s already been mine. Maybe I’ve seen it before, in a vision, or a store, or at some point in the indistinguishable fog that was my human life. It’s small and simple and delicate, and I just know that it’s an antique, too -- maybe a family heirloom!

Oh, I love it. I really, truly love it.

It’d look so swell pinning back Esme’s caramel coloured waves, or tucked into one of Rosalie’s elaborately braided creations.

Me, on the other hand? With hair so spiky, and unyielding, and awful, I’ve always tried to draw attention away from it, not towards. I’ve never bothered with such precious things. Disappointed for the billionth time over the permanence of my choppy locks, I glance into the little mirror situated beside the jewellery tray and take a good, hard look at my boyish appearance.

Maybe if I twist that piece of hair just so, and stick the pin right there -- My vision goes out of focus, and I come to spinning in a room. I’m tucked against Jasper’s chest, feeling warm and good and happy. I can see the floor, and my feet, and the hem of a blue skirt.

Jasper touches something atop my head. “I like this,” he mutters, “it’s pretty. Reminds me of your skin, whenever I can get you out in the sun.”

I blink and I’m back in Esme’s closet.

He likes it.

I look to the mirror again, to check once more if I might find the right spot for such a pin, and in my reflection, just behind me, I spot something very familiar.

Something blue. Well!

That’s all the confirmation I need.

The grin that splits my face in two is an unstoppable force.

Visions like this are my favourite.

When I’m in-tune enough to catch a glimpse into my own future — one that confirms a question or leads me left or right — I know to listen. To pay close attention. If I catch all the details and follow all the clues, I’m more often than not led to a picture perfect moment. One that I would have otherwise missed, if left to nothing but luck.

It’s these self-fulfilling-prophecies that brought me to Jasper. They brought me here.

I tuck the pin into the pocket I’ve sewn into my dress -- I’ll have it back before Esme notices! -- and turn on my heel to march towards the most beautiful thing I’ve found yet.

A dress, pale-blue, and made of tulle, with a tea-length skirt and a ruched bodice. It’s magnificent!

The most tantalizing part? I already know that this particular dress would fit me just right. I’ve seen it!

Still, I hesitate to touch it. It’s not mine.

The same vision flashes before my eyes, like the future calling directly out to me, saying, I already told you, you must! So I must. Who am I to argue an inevitability? This particular future is set in stone. So --

I lurch forward and curl my fingers into the ample skirt, gasping out in utter delight when I do. This here is no common frock. This is a work of art. My simple, curtain-fabric dress seems almost disgraceful now. I want out of it, and into this. Esme won’t mind. I’m sure of it. She’s been so insistent that I use whatever I need, after all. And what Esme doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I make quick work of the change.

The inside of the blue dress is lined with silk. It slides deliciously over my marble skin, like butter melting in a warm pan. I take extra care with the line of buttons running up its back, snapping each one closed as delicately as my fingers will allow. I flatten out the skirt, careful not to pull, and float towards the full body mirror leaned in the far corner.

The dress’ shoulders hang off mine just right. Its bodice hugs my waist like it was tailored just for me. The skirt -- well, the tulle hits just past my knees, and tickles them every time I move. I look beautiful. I look happy and bright that I swear there’s colour in my cheeks.

I look like one of them. A human.

Not just any old human. One of the fantastic ones. Straight from sunny, golden Hollywood. Rita Hayworth. Ginger Rogers. Grace Kelly!

I admire myself for another second, but refuse to rest before my outfit is complete.

Somewhere in the mess of ugly dress I’d discarded on the floor, I find the pearl pin. I bring it with me back over to the mirror, and start fiddling away with my hair. I struggle for awhile, but just when I’m about to give up, my hair submits, and I find the perfect spot to showcase the singular shining pearl against my dark hair.

It even manages to hold down a particularly formidable cowlick in the process.

There.

Perfect.

I want to be content standing here in the closet, where Esme’s dress is out of harm’s way, but my heart aches to find that simple and tooth-achingly-sweet moment I saw minutes ago. I want to find Jasper.

So, armed with the courage only a perfect dress could give you, I venture out into the house.

I wander around in Esme’s blue dress, my head held high. I swoosh down the stairs and dance my way through every hall, with no need for music or party-goers with this magnificent, twirly thing to entertain me. I could go on all night, twisting, and turning, and gliding around.

My one-woman parade ends in the living room, right in front of my second favourite spot. Here are ceiling-high shelves, tirelessly cradling a collection of vinyl records that spans through genres and decades. There are singles, and extended plays, and soundtracks, all lovingly forced into each and every measly inch of storage space. And even that’s not enough to contain this particular collection — down at my feet are more piles, stacking up towards the hem of my dress.

Any second, the weight of it all is going to rip through the floor. I’ve never known a vampire to accumulate so many things. Then again -- I’ve never really known any vampire, except for Jasper. Maybe a penchant for collecting is normal among our kind, if given the chance. It makes sense. An endless life equates to endless things.

I drag my fingers along the spines of albums arranged at my height. I walk, collecting fresh dust on my fingertips, until I’m stopped by the hard corner of the cabinet positioned alongside their glorious collection.

Sitting on top is a brand spanking new record player.

I’ve had little radios of my own, and spent many hours tucked up beside jukebox in Finch’s diner, but I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to justify owning such an extravagance.

Such a thing shouldn’t just sit, collecting dust.

It takes a little investigation — and a little peering into the immediate future — but I eventually figure out how to bring the player to life. I settle on a record by an artist I’ve heard before, almost everywhere I go.

I set the needle down on the record, more gentle than I was with the buttons on my dress, and wait for the thing to crackle to life. Music follows soon after.

The hearty bass of a big band orchestra shakes dust of the speakers, and they go on flexing in time, like a beating heart.

I turn the music louder, hoping the steady beat might distract Jasper from his books.

While I wait, I close my eyes, and I let the joyous sound shake me, too. It brings me to life, starting in my fingers, until I’m moving head to toe.

I let go of everything else for a moment — I leave the future where it is, and my worries at the door, and I focus on how happy I am right now.

Eyes still closed, I wander out into the middle of the living room and spin myself around, hands outstretched to feel the edge of my skirt fly when I do. I spin again, and again, until something stops me.

I’m delightedly surprised -- something I’m not very often -- to find Jasper there, with a big stupid grin on his face. He catches my hand, effectively stopping me in place.

“How long have you been watching me?” I ask through a fit of giddy laughter. “Didn’t you see me coming?” He teases, staring me down with that feigned-serious look he wears so well.

I hum in response, not interested in explaining how deeply I’ve been enjoying the present. Jasper doesn’t quite get it yet, how big of a burden monitoring the future can be.

He chuckles and lifts his hand to spin me around. I follow his lead, just on time with the beat of the music, and turn until I’m facing him again. Then Jasper pulls me close, right up against his chest, and settles his free hand on my back, just between my shoulders. Each fingertip spreads a calm kind of happy through my being, growing larger and more dominant until all I can feel is what he is.

I understand more of how our powers work now, and how much proximity has to do with it. From afar, Jasper’s emotions might be palpable to me, if he works hard to project them and I work hard to tune him in. Up close, however, it’s all too easy to drown in him. It’s not my doing, and not his. It just is. It was overwhelming at first, feeling enough for two people, but now I’m not sure how I ever existed without this kind of fullness.

We stay quiet and sway for awhile, until Jasper decides to speak. I can feel the finality of his decision coming towards me in the form of a vision, but I push it off, eager to stay right here with him instead. “We should do this more often,” he says, before taking a step back to twirl me again. I tip myself back into his embrace, and nod fervently at his suggestion. “Any excuse, right?” I ask, turning my gaze towards our tightly clasped hands.

Jasper chuckles, and tightens his arm around my waist. “I don’t think we need an excuse,” he says confidently, like it’s obvious.

I shrug, and smile sweetly up at him. “Well — an opportunity, then.”

He nods, and laughs again.

From where I stand, I can see the floor, and my bare feet, and the baby blue hem of Esme’s dress. A familiar type of chill rolls up my spine. Here it comes.

Jasper’s hand lifts off my back and reaches up. He touches the pearl tucked into my hair, just as lovingly as I saw he would, and so I lift my eyes to him like I’m meant to do.

“I like this,” he mutters, “it’s pretty. Reminds me of your skin, whenever I can get you out in the sun.” I grin.

What’s next hasn’t been plotted out, but my mouth seems to find the words anyways. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s not much sun around here.”

He furrows his brows, like he’s seriously considering this new information. “Probably a good thing,” Jasper notes. He touches the little bobble one more time, and then brings his hand back to my waist. After a moment of deep thought, Jasper speaks again. “We’ll just have to make our own sunshine.”

Goodness, he’s great.

Overflowing with his joy and my own, I stretch up as high as I can, on the very tips of my toes, and press a hard kiss to his smiling mouth. Even then, he bends himself in half to reach me.

We melt into each other, a puddle of his emotions and mine. Jasper’s hand leaves my waist to cradle the side of my face and his touch spreads searing want against my cheek. I welcome everything he has to give me, and curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt to say, yes, please, more.

I’ve always mourned my humanity, but God, I’m so grateful not to breathe. It means Jasper and I could go on like this indefinitely. Forever.

It’s exactly what I want, and Jasper knows that, but he slides back into the role of proper gentleman before his powers get the best of us and there’s no turning back.

He clears his throat.

I laugh.

My head lands on Jasper’s chest and I close my eyes. The music slows to a stop after a while, and the needle against the inner end of the record, where the grooves in the vinyl cease.

Neither of us bother to do anything about it. We stand there in silence, just holding each other, swaying back and forth to the click, click, click coming from the far end of the room. That’s music enough for us.

I feel Jasper shift. His head turns up and his shoulders lower.

Then, another voice shakes me out of Jasper’s arms. “Chronologically, by year. And then by preference, I guess.” Surprised twice in one day! I look past Jasper’s arm to see Edward leaning against the doorframe, smiling at us both with a good and proper grin.

Jasper lets me go and turns around, and I stand and watch as he attempts to match the man’s expression.

“-- since you were wondering,” Edward finishes. He stretches out his smile and stands up straight, then acknowledges me with a solid nod.

Jasper sighs out a nervous laugh. “I was,” he says, forcing his body into a straight line. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” he says of Edward’s gift.

“Sorry,” Edward says, unapologetically.

“It’s a wonderful collection,” I offer, snaking an arm low around Jasper’s waist. He relaxes, just a little, so I keep throwing calm his way.

Next into the room is Carlisle, followed closely by Rosalie and Emmett. Esme is tucked between them.

Esme!

The dress!

Before I can hide my crime behind Jasper’s body, I’m caught. “Alice!” She says, her red-painted lips pulling into a smile.

“Oh, Esme -- I’m sorry, I know you said I could borrow a dress or two, but this! --”

“You look absolutely lovely.”

Three surprises — now that’s absolutely unheard of. What a strange kind of day.

“Oh,” I say, hands flying up to fiddle with the bodice. I smile through my embarrassment and mumble a quiet thank you. “It’s yours,” Esme quickly assures. “It fits you like a glove.”

No words leave my mouth, but a wonky little gasp of air does.

Carlisle’s smile pulls wider across his face. He closes the distance between himself and his wife, and takes one hand out of his cardigan’s pocket to rest on Esme’s shoulder proudly. “I agree,” he simply states, “like it was made for you.”

“Oh, I could never!” I argue.

Rosalie looks up from Emmett, who’s sat himself down to pull off his muddy shoes, and she huffs a laugh at me. “You’re already wearing it,” she notes, with a surprising amount of sincerity amongst her usual bite.

Esme eyes Rosalie. “You absolutely can,” she insists, ignoring the blonde’s remark. “Please. What’s mine is yours. You’re part of the family now.”

I look down at the dress -- my dress -- and burst into a fit of giddy laughter. How can I say no to that? I look at the Cullens one by one -- Esme and Carlisle still embracing, Rosalie and Emmett poised just behind them, and Edward smiling that all-knowing-smile to their left -- and then land my gaze on sweet, dedicated Jasper.

This is my family.

For thirty years, I’ve been searching. I’ve been looking, and looking -- scanning through the future and digging to understand the past -- hoping to find some spot in space and time that suits me right.

For so long I searched alone, with nothing, and no one, and no idea where to go.

That changed when I saw a man, scarred and uncertain and spun of gold. It changed again, when I saw a family put together by choice, and by love.

I started on a path that would lead me across the country and back again, with nothing more than hope and a picture in my mind.

I’ve gained so much since then — pieces of myself, determination stronger than fear, a deep, life-affirming understanding of what it means to love, and be loved, unconditionally, with every inch of your deadened heart — but nothing will ever compare to the satisfaction that I feel right now.

I can stop. I can stop wanting, and waiting, and searching. I’m here. I’m finally here, exactly where I’m meant to be.

I’m home, and that is the best thing of all. THE END.

#jalice fic #twilight fic #jalice #alice x jasper #jalice one-shot #SURPRISE!#HERE'S A THING THAT I SHOULDN'T BE DOING BUT I AM!#I have so many ideas running around my head #little moments in the twilight universe that happen between these two nuggets #and I want to get them out #so welcome to all the time #AKA the collection of one shots you never asked for #not totally one shots but like #moments #i call them one shots bc it's going to be completely non linear #you'll get peaks into the past #into the span of jalice life in the midst of the ed/bella twi-through-bd shit #and looks into the ~future~#this is going to be updated SO IRREGULARLY #and im telling you now #but every now and then you'll find a lil something special that's been on my mind #a little hallmark moment if you will #not always this sweet but #OKAY HERE #all the time in the world #TAG:#att #chapter one

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boarix · 4 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XIX

Harbinger

Trigger Warnings: canon violence/language/gun, drug and alcohol use.

Bloody Mess Warning!

Please Enjoy!

Infamy stared after Wraith and Radiance as if in a haze. With their back to Harkness, they were caught completely unaware when he tackled them to the ground. The large man seemed oblivious to his own injuries while providing the glowing one some of their own. He sobbed for breath as he pummeled Atom’s Assassin; striking them repeatedly about the head and face.

“This was you! I lost them…” his breath came in ragged gasps, “all because of you! I lost them both! They trusted me with their friends… my friends! YOU’VE KILLED THEM BOTH!” Exhausted, he fell off of the ghoul and groaned into the mud.

Infamy’s mind was elsewhere it seemed. They allowed the beating and after it was over they climbed to their feet and walked slowly to where Sun of Atom lay. Not bothering to avoid the grisly remains of Marie, they simply stepped on or through the piles of the young woman’s digestive tract: trailing loops of purple-grey small intestine behind them after it caught on their boot. They crouched over the sad and crumpled form of their fellow glowing one and placed a hand on his brow.

Harkness made an attempt to get to his feet but only succeeded in flopping over onto his back. Panting, he struggled to pull his shirt up and over his head before wadding it into a ball and pressing it to the worst of his multiple knife wounds. Looking around he saw what Infamy was doing and a sudden flare of hope stirred within him “Can you… I’ve seen glowing ones revive…”

“No. There isn’t enough brain left.” They rose to their feet and paced back to him, “His light has gone out in any case.” Placing their knuckles on their hips, Infamy leaned down to glare at him, “What do you mean I’ve killed them?” Sweeping a hand through the air, they gestured to the bodies lying in the muddied turf, “Do point out the general’s corpse. I know it may be hard considering how popular a hangout this area is for dead folks. Don’t see her? Hmm... Did you miss the part where that spectacular glowing creature swept Wraith away?”

“Fuck… you…”

“She took all my ferals too… that beautiful bitch!”

“Why are… you still here?! Fuck off already!”

They snorted in amusement then turned and leisurely walked to the shipping office. A moment later they returned with Wraith’s med kit and tossed it to a very surprised Harkness.

“What?! Why?”

“Where? When? Who?” laughing mockingly, they roughly pulled the cloak from one of their collective; shaking it so the body fell to lay face down with limbs askew. They then folded the garment into a makeshift cushion and sat on it, “Can’t have you expiring before my questions are answered. Now, can we? Hahaha!”

Harkness injected himself with Med-X then a stimpak. Rummaging in the bag, he also found a derma-fuse and a small bottle of disinfecting alcohol. Pouring some onto clean gauze, he winced as he wiped at the gash along his ribs. He popped his chin to the cloak’s former owner, “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d treat a loyal follower like garbage.”

“Tch,” They waved a hand dismissingly, “their light has returned to Atom. The meat sack is unimportant. Besides, it’s hot and wet out here and I have a particular loathing for swamp ass.”

As Harkness did his best to mend himself he could feel the ghoul watching him. It annoyed the shit out of him, “What makes you think I’m going to answer any of your fucking…”

“Did you ever ask him?” Their lip curled in amusement, “Sun. Did you ever ask him about your light? Or, did you assume that you must have one. After all you are alive, right?” Their voice deepened and came as the lowest of whispers, “Are you alive, Harkness?”

“I will not play, Infamy.” His eyes mirrored the iron in his voice.

“You’ll play. After all, you’ve curiosity of your own to quench.” They brought a hand up under their chin, propped their arm on a knee and bat their eyes at him, “Don’t you want to know how I knew where you were? Hmmm? Don’t you want to know ‘why now’?”

“No. I figure… you heard Sunny… or one of you did. Why are you so interested in Wraith? What is she the Harbinger of?”

They made an indelicate noise and waved a hand dismissively, “It’s not her I’m interested in any longer. I imagine she was the Harbinger of Death for Sun of Atom…”

“NO!” Furious, Harkness pound his fist on the ground, “You fucking… uncaring monster! It can’t be as simple…”

“Wraith is up to Atom. Whether or not she’s ‘The Harbinger’ is up to the Mother of the Fog and I don’t pretend to know their Holy Plan. And I’d be careful thrashing about and opening your wounds, brother; you’ve only got so much of that red fluid left.”

“Red fluid?! It’s blood, you fuck! I am alive and I have blood!”

“I’m a monster, remember? I know nothing of blood as my veins are filled with ichor. Ha!”

Harkness struggled to his feet. Walking on unsteady legs, he went to Sun and with some difficulty, gathered the ghoul into his arms, “If anyone was Death’s Harbinger it was Marie.” He carried his small burden to the office and set about arranging him; folding him in his robes as if he was swaddling an infant.

“Marie…” Infamy watched from the doorway, their voice dripped with loathing, “complete buffoon. Utter garbage.”

“Well, you listened to her and came up here, so who’s the bigger idiot?”

“The trouble at Crater House, the loss of Kingsport Lighthouse and the babbling of High Confessor Tektus is why I came. Though, I suppose Marie’s whining about false prophets needed to be addressed as well… she did know the area…” They shrugged, “Oh, well. She’s not going to be spreading hysteria any longer and all those who followed her around will go back home and follow Atom instead. As they should.”

Harkness slammed his fists on the floor, “Oh, well? All’s well that ends well?!” He rushed the ghoul but couldn’t catch them and fell out of the door and landed on his knees, “People are dead! You killed and maimed people based on false information!”

They shrugged again, “They are not important. Who was that glowing one? Where did she come from? Does she speak? She seemed more than feral…”

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

“Would Wraith’s little boy know? Should I go and ask him? Oh, I like him. Very, very much.”

Harkness started to shake with rage, “If you set one rotten toenail in that settlement, MacCready will destroy you.”

They paused and a flicker of real fear crossed their face, “Oh… the sniper. If I’m not mistaken, he was a demon of Morningstar’s, at one point… Little Boy was no slouch in a fight either, and there are probably dogs, Dragoons and a super mutant…” They spun around; holding their arms out and twirling like a child, “I suppose I could just follow her… Although, that might be dangerous; wouldn’t want to get ensnared like Wraith.”

“I get the feeling, if she wanted you, she would have taken you.”

The ghoul’s eyes narrowed, “I am a Master of Infamy. A Necromancer! Atom’s Assassin, of course… well… hmm… perhaps you’re right. Oh, well. Maybe I’m not her type. That’s up to her, I suppose.” They blew Harkness a kiss and turned away toward the hole in the fence, “Try not to miss me, big boy.”

“For the last time; go fuck yourself!”

“Delighted to. I’ll be thinking of you!”

The loss of blood made Harkness’s journey back to Sanctuary a long one. He had left Sun’s remains along with most of his own gear, locked in one of the shipping company’s trailers. He went the long way around: avoiding the road and using a Stealth-boy to pass through the gate unseen. Nearly overwhelmed by exhaustion and grief, his invisibility wore off as he stood on the grass in between Wraith’s office and the clinic. Blinking into view, he looked back and forth, trying to prioritize.

As it happened, Danse had just glanced out the window and saw a vaguely familiar, very bloody man standing on the lawn. He assumed he was a member of the Minutemen and immediately went out to help, “Are you alright, soldier?”

“Oh. Hi, Danse. Glad to see…” Harkness trailed off as he lost consciousness and sagged into the other man’s arms.

“THIS IS TOTAL CRAP!”

A meeting had been called as soon as Harkness had regained consciousness. Bear, the Valentines, Danse, Curie, Cait, Lloyd, MacCready and Sofie had all gathered in Sanctuary’s Radio Freedom broadcast center. The leaders of Goodneighbor, Diamond City and The Castle were all listening in, and had been voicing their opinions on what to do next over the radio.

“MacCready, please stop yelling…” Sofie stood up to put her diminutive form between the sniper and the object of his ire.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HER?”

“How would I even begin to do that?” Harkness’s emotions were oscillating between anger and sadness and he would have very much liked to bellow back at him, but every time he took a deep, preparatory breath, he felt a sharp reminder that he’d been repeatedly stabbed. “I had just watched her literally rip another human being in half. With very little effort, might I add?” He looked unflinchingly into the other man’s eyes, “She and I weren’t super pals, but I was really starting to like her. I had begun to know her. I saw her when she went for Marie. Even before that glowing one took her, she had already gone feral. Her eyes were nothing but burning rage. If I had tried, she would have killed me too.”

“We are facing the fact that Wraith has now become… a potential threat… We cannot allow her to hurt anyone else.”

“No,” MacCready took a deep shuddering breath, “you can’t possibly believe that, Sofie.” He cast about in disbelief, looking for allies in the sad eyes of his friends. “I know she’s… gone a little… she’s always come back though! Hancock! Tell them! You’ve brought her back. Tell them how you…”

“That’s right,” Danse leaned forward eagerly, “aboard the Prydwen. Wraith told me that she had lost control,” He swallowed and closed his eyes, “and that it was you who…”

“No. I couldn’t. It wasn’t me…” Hancock was barely audible.

“We need to find her. If we can hold her somehow, maybe it’ll… wear off?” Piper’s question was pleading.

“We’ll mobilize the Hounds and the Dragoons.” Preston had been silent up to that point; unhappy to be the pro tem general, “Even Wraith can’t rip through metal. Can she?”

“I agree,” Nick Valentine had been standing in the doorway, facing away south, “We need to try…”

“And what then? How many people will she kill or injure in the effort to capture her?” Sanctuary’s head settler hated what she was saying even as she said it, “She’s surrounded by feral ghouls. One of whom is potentially the most powerful glowing one we have ever encountered. We have to find her, yes, but we should be considering…”

“YOU CAN’T BE THINKING OF KILLING THE PERSON WHO SAVED US!”

The ghoulett clenched her fists and tears stood out in her eyes, “You think I want her to be killed?!” She took several deep, shaking breaths, “We must think how she would feel knowing that people were hurt on her behalf. We must do what’s best for all…”

“WRAITH IS WHAT IS BEST FOR ALL!”

“MACCREADY!” Hancock’s voice crackled over the radio, “I’LL BE DAMNED IF I LET HER DIE!” Then, softer, “Robert… I don’t know if I can reach her but…” The deep breath he took was audible, “On the airship… I took some heavy-duty chems just to keep up with her. I was jacked on Psycho jet, Ultrajet and Buffout, but it still wasn’t enough to stop her. You wanna talk about rippin’ through metal?! She shrugged me off like I was a bloatfly! And when I kept at it she… she went for me like I was the enemy. The only way she made it back to the vertibird was cause she was chasin’ me. When the Prydwen blew, our ship got caught in the shockwave and we went down like a wet sack of shit. As soon as her feet were on the shore, she was off again; splashing after the BOS survivors around the airport… snarling.” He paused and cleared his throat, “Sorry, Danse. I know that’s gotta be rough to hear…”

“I… Please continue.”

“I was hurt pretty bad; Maxson got his licks in and the crash was rough. There was fire everywhere. Even the water was burning, but I still tried to go after her. She did one of her crazy judo throws though, and dropped my ass in the drink. I thought for sure she was gonna drown me. Deacon was tryin’ to pull her off me and she hit him so hard, I think I saw stars. He got up, bloody as hell, and was calling her… to her. He was sayin’, ‘Please stop! You’re going to kill us.’ and she just… it was like a switch got flipped. She blacked out and don’t remember a thing. Told everyone that I saved her but, it wasn’t me… it wasn’t me…”

Quiet descended as the group somberly digested the ghoul’s words. Harkness quickly put two and two together and came up with Harley = Deacon. He also decided that he very much needed to return to the Capital Wasteland as soon as possible.

“Shark cages,” Sturges’s unmistakable voice chimed in from the Castle radio, causing everyone to flinch at the broken silence, “at the Nahant Oceanological Society. They were strong enough to hold a great white, right?”

“Why on earth would anyone want to trap a big pale shark?”

“Waaay off subject, Lloyd!”

“I meant for Wraith, naturally. We find her and like Mayor Wright says, maybe whatever that feral did to her will wear off, cause last I checked, Deacon ain’t exactly local these days.”

“What about Infamy, Harkness? What further action can we expect from them?”

Wincing, he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, “Honestly, Danse, I don’t think they are going to be a threat to Wraith’s settlements any longer.”

“I call malarkey on that one.”

“No, Mayor Wright, I think the main force will already be on their way back to the Capital Wasteland. As for Atom’s Assassin… they seemed fascinated by Radiance and left to…”

“Can we please get back to Wraith?! Like, now!” MacCready’s patience was all but gone.

“What about the Glowing Sea? You said they headed south.”

“I don’t know, detective. I… they could be anywhere…” Harkness closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Okay,” MacCready clapped his hands together, “that’s close enough to a plan for me! Me, Danse and the Dragoons will suit up and stomp our way down to the Glowing-est Place on Earth while the Minutemen fetch us a cage to everyone’s favorite berserker in.”

“I’m goin’.” Bear stood and nodded at the group, “I’ll go get my hammer. Assuming we are leaving soon.”

“I shall go as well.” Curie lifted her chin and her eyes dared them all to contradict her.

“Curie, what about the syringer?”

“That’s a great idea, MacCready. Thinking like a true weapons master! You can load it with Pistol Whipped…”

“What is this? ‘Pistol Whipped’?”

“It’s what we’ve been callin’ that sleep aid you and Wraith were working on.”

“Of course, you’ll be going too, Nick.” Ellie clapped her hands together as if the choice was made.

Valentine gave his wife a stricken look, “I can’t very well leave you here…”

“You most certainly can! Wraith is my friend too, and I want the best detective in the Commonwealth out there looking for her.”

“You can wear my armor, Nicky; it’s a real classy chassis. I’ll put my people on it too. I gotta rearrange some things before I go runnin’ around, but in the meantime, I want to be notified as soon as anybody lays eyes on her, you feel me?”

Her voice was like a white-hot needle through Wraith’s head. Wordless, it was nevertheless meticulously specific. The instructions held a weight that was all but crushing. Pain surrounded and penetrated her whenever Radiance spoke, but in the voice’s absence there was only confusion and fear. She didn’t remember who she was or what she wanted. All that mattered was Her.

The Metro tunnels were dark, but somehow Wraith found her prey. She knew that everything living, apart from feral ghouls, must be destroyed. She swept through the raiders and monsters like a poisonous vapor. Unseen by most save for the moment of their death.

There are powerful fighters even amongst the raiders. And these grizzled veterans of turf wars and skirmishes over inter-gang pecking order posed a serious threat to Wraith. So reckless and lost, she took risks she might not have taken and wouldn’t retreat even when outnumbered. Were it not for Bear’s armor she would have been killed. As it was, the lack of self-preservation often resulted in injury.

After she cleared a location, Radiance would immediately come and find her. The glowing one held her in her arms, healing her wounds and filling her mind with a blazing light.

Following behind, Infamy tested the range of Radiance’s influence. Several times the ghoul came too close and the mental assault dropped them to their knees while they fought to keep their free will. The vast horde of ferals that had been gathered in the Glowing Sea, that Infamy had intended to set against the Minutemen, now swarmed around the glowing queen and did as she bade. Frustrated but determined, Atom’s Assassin persisted. They kept telling themselves that they should be powerful enough to pull ferals away and were growing fearful at their complete failure to do so.

While Deacon stared silently out the window of his Tenpenny Tower office, Harkness’s chin dropped low to his chest. He had finished his debriefing moments before and now in the ensuing silence the exhausted agent was in real danger of falling asleep.

“You called me ‘Deacon’.”

Harkness’s head snapped up, “Oh… Did I?”

“Yes.” Deacon sighed, “I guess it would be pointless to contradict you at this point, huh?” Turning, he crossed the room to his desk and after shuffling a few papers aside, picked up a holotape and held it out to Harkness. “Take a few days to recover before you start on this.”

After accepting the tape, Harkness continued to hold it out at arm’s length. Maintaining eye contact, he lifted a brow, “What’s this?”

“Your next OP.”

“What… what are you…?”

“This one should be a little more routine. That being said, I still want you…”

“What do you mean my next…?” He continued to hold the holotape out and away from himself. Now when Deacon interrupted him again, he bobbed his whole arm up and down as if using the device to punctuate his ire.

“You’re finished with your last mission. You debriefed me. I’ve been debriefed. I stand debriefed.” As Deacon spoke his volume increased as if he was trying to drown out Harkness’s arm waving, “I’m pants-less before you!”

“God DAMN it! What about Wraith?!”

“What about her? I’m sure the Commonwealth branch will be able to…”

“Don’t, boss…” Harkness lowered his arm and let the tape fall on to the floor before bringing hands up to his face. When he spoke his voice was muffled, “please don’t. Don’t pretend like you don’t care.”

“I don’t. Wraith is someone else’s problem. I can’t afford to be distracted by her.”

Harkness launched himself to his feet and rushed Deacon. He stopped just short of the other man so they stood nose to nose, “I think you fucking care quite a bit.”

The phrase sent Deacon’s mind back to a similar conversation he had had with Hancock and he chuckled humorlessly at the irony of it. “She… has a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?”

“I think she’s a pill.” Harkness sagged, turned and all but dragged himself back to the couch, “She’s violent, moody and… she cares deeply for her people. She puts her own safety at risk to help others. Strangers even. She’s very brave and is a brilliant, terrifying fighter.” He smiled helplessly up at the other man, “I don’t know whether I want to take a bullet for her or shake her.”

Deacon remained very still and silent as he tried to concoct a lie that would end the immediate conversation and put the subject of Wraith to bed. Even as he stewed, he knew that he didn’t want to ignore Wraith’s plight. “Even if I wanted to help…”

“Which, you do…”

“…what do you expect I’ll be able to do?” All trace of humor had fled from him and Deacon’s tone was almost accusatory. He returned to the window, and frowning at his reflection, resisted the urge to break the glass.

“Governor seems to think you’ll be able to snap her out of it.”

Deacon scoffed, “Ha! ‘Governor thinks…’” He shook his head, “The situation is different; this is not of her own doing. This ‘Radiance’ creature has her… entranced. This isn’t the berserker we all know and love. No. We’ll all turn to dust long before she calms and returns to her senses.”

“Since when have you adopted such a defeatist’s attitude? Why wouldn’t you go? Why not try?”

“You’ve only had a small taste of what she’s capable of… I definitely can’t fight her.”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Why is she so physically strong?”

Deacon frowned, “I don’t know… exactly…”

“So tell me vaguely.”

“Let’s say… she’s one failed step in the march toward the ultimate super soldier.”

“That’s a hell of a stumble.”

Deacon heard the creak of the sofa springs as Harkness rose and came to stand behind him. He could see the large man’s chest reflected in the window glass, and his arms as he crossed them over it. He let the silence drag out for as long as possible and when he finally spoke he let the full weight of his ire carry in his voice, “I’ll ask again; what do you expect me to do?”

“Retire and go back.”

Deacon spun about, his face a storm of anger, “I don’t get to do that.”

“I don’t see why not. Morningstar never meant for you to have to stay here.” He turned and went to sit at Deacon’s desk. “I’m thinking I’m your replacement. I’ve had enough of field work for now, and with everything you’ve set in place, this job could almost be easy.”

“Easy…?” Deacon’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.

“I know you can help them. Wraith needs you, Deacon.” He folded his arms behind his head and set his feet on top of the desk. “We don’t.”

“For the last time; what do you think I can do?!”

“Call her name.”

Hancock’s snores could be heard throughout the Old Statehouse. His feet were up on his desk and his head was tilted back over the top of his chair; the awkward angle accounting for the great volume of his log-sawing. And yet, his granddaughter was completely undisturbed. She was in what he called tree-frog mode: perched on his chest with limbs drawn in and chin tucked. He had one hand gently cupping her back and so the tiny infant was perfectly safe riding up and down with his deep, rhythmic breaths.

He was exhausted:

Several months had passed since the meeting and Wraith was still missing. The excursion to the Glowing Sea provided very little clues to her whereabouts. While there, Danse, as the ranking Minutemen officer, met with Mother Isolde and informed her of her daughter’s death. During the meeting she spoke on how a vast horde of feral ghouls had pass very near to the Crater and that they seemed to be moving northeast.

“Normally such a thing would be noted as odd but not concerning. This… even we at the Crater, Atom’s holy ground, couldn’t help but feel threatened.” She lowered her head and touched her finger tips to her temple.

“I am very sorry for your loss…”

“It is not only that… forgive me but I have been having headaches…”

Soon after, MacCready had parted ways with Danse and the rest of his squad to escort Valentine and Curie back to Sanctuary. Leaving almost as soon as he returned, he stopped in Goodneighbor to collect Hancock and the two set out to follow up on leads from the ghoul’s network. There had been witnesses that spoke of a mass exodus of raiders and other unsavory types, fleeing the Mass Pike tunnels and the various MTA stations around the city. Like rats leaving a sinking ship.

Hancock was most concerned about the reports coming in from Postal Square, “That’s part of the Blue Line. I know there’s blockages between there and the Third Rail but…”

When the duo finally found a raider to question, they couldn’t be sure how much of his terrified babbling was chem induced.

“It was a deathclaw! But, like a little one. Not a baby, just real small. Not real small, more like it was people sized. And the ferals! They were all runnin’ and hoppin’. Glowing ones everywhere! I had ta run and hop too. The voices in my head got LOUD! Oh my head, oh… Mayor Hancock… you packin’? You haulin’, man? Cause, I could need some Psycho, man. My arm skin tryin’ to crawl away from me, boss.”

“Sorry, pal. I’m light these days. It’ll be winter soon, why don’t you head over to Goodneighbor? So long as you mind yerself, you’ll do alright.”

“I don’t mind… don’t mind takin’ what I need from your dead…”

The raider never finished. As soon as he went for his knife, MacCready had pulled a sidearm and blew his brains out through his ear.

Danse returned to Sanctuary just before the first snow. His time spent in his power armor much improved his mobility and stamina as the support the suit provided proved to be a surprisingly efficient form of physical therapy. Despite this, he found himself at a trough in his mental recovery. The inability to find his friend and save her, like she had done so many times for him, was incredibly crushing. On several occasions, Curie would lose track of him and find him standing in one of Sanctuary’s fields in his power armor, having completely worn down a core. Calling to him repeatedly, she would stand in the cold until he regained his senses and followed her slowly home.

Strong’s reaction seemed to be the most out of character. The super mutant became strangely quiet and after he returned with the hounds from the glowing sea, took to picking up and carrying around any of the mutant canines that happened to be available. Cait overheard him whispering to Gracie, appearing to be reassuring himself by talking to her, “Alpha is still with Strong. Strong feels small human friend. Alpha won’t wear out like other humans. Alpha will come back. As soon as ghoul is dead…”

Martha Daisy Hancock had been born early. Fahrenheit had become gravely ill in her last trimester and Dr. Amari had called for Curie’s aid. Diagnosing her with pregnancy induced liver disease; she had been able to convince the mother of a dramatic course of action and thus, performed her first C-section to great success. In turn, Amari made the journey to Sanctuary a month and a half later to help deliver Ellie and Nick’s son, John Emiliano; whom everyone called “Jack”.

MacCready and Hancock had continued to scour the bowels of the ruins, going tunnel by tunnel, with little to no rest for the entire winter. The decision to abandon his search when Fahrenheit became sick nearly tore the ghoul in two. Now, he threw himself after every new rumor, no matter how vague, like a starving dog on a scrap of meat.

Now, not even bothering to knock, Fahrenheit opened the door to the mayor’s office and followed closely by MacCready, strode purposely to Hancock’s desk. She reached out, intending to take her daughter from the ghoul’s arms, but stopped herself after briefly considering the consequences. After all, they both were finally sleeping…

MacCready had no such compunctions and deftly plucked the baby from his arms. In almost the same motion, he substituted a small bag of beach sand and stepped back, grinning triumphantly.

“There’s no way…”

Hancock sat bolt-upright, “Oh!” Blinking owlishly he stared at them for a moment before looking down at the sack he was cradling gently in his arms. His mouth set in a scowl, he growled at MacCready, “You asshole.”

MacCready chuckled, “Aww, man, don’t curse in front of the kid!” His laugh turned into a pout, “I really thought that was gonna work… been carrying that stupid bag forever.”

Hancock’s face softened as soon as he heard him laugh. It had been a while since the young man had shown any inclination toward cheerfulness and it made the ghoul feel better to hear. “You’re lucky I love ya, stealing my baby…”

Fahrenheit loudly cleared her throat before turning to MacCready and holding her hands out expectantly. He in turn, backed away while sticking his lip out even further.

“Give me a few minutes! At least until she starts crying. I’ve hardly gotten a chance to hold her… since… well…”

She relented and went to set herself on Hancock’s couch. “Hancock, I just got off the radio with Garvey… General Garvey.”

Hancock immediately stood. His brow knit, he clenched his hands into fists and advanced on the door. When he spoke his voice shook with barley suppressed rage, “How could he? How dare he?”

Fahrenheit stood up as well and positioned herself in the doorway to block the mayor, “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go and give him a piece of my mind! That’s where!”

“Oh, no you’re not!” She pressed a hand to his chest and was a little surprised when he didn’t back down. Determined, she pushed harder and locked eyes with him, “If you go now you will say something hurtful to a man whom you greatly respect.”

“It wasn’t just him, Hancock. They had a meeting and decided to follow Wraith’s notes.”

Surprised, Hancock whirled on him, “So, you’re okay with them removing Wraith from command?!”

“I didn’t say that,” MacCready let an edge creep into his voice, “I said that it wasn’t all on Preston.”

“Oh! I see!” He threw his hands up, “So it’s okay because it was decided in fucking committee!”

“NO! It’s okay because Wraith essentially TOLD THEM TO DO IT!” MacCready’s eyes flashed at him.

“They simply made official what has been their reality for the past few months, and Preston will do a fine job of it. Despite his age, he has years of experience and has learned a great deal from his time with Wraith.”

“His age? Pretty sure he’s older then you…”

She shot MacCready a glare, “Be still.”

Hancock whirled from the doorway and uttering a guttural sob, surprised them both by beginning to cry. Filled with anger and grief he was barely able to speak, “I can’t stand that they’ve given up on her… that they are following her Will… that she’s… she’s…”

Martha began to cry even as her adoptive grandfather and MacCready passed her to Fahrenheit before wrapping his arms around Hancock.

“Don’t, man. She’s not dead!” His own voice thick with impending tears, he squeezed him tightly, “We will never give up!”

Fahrenheit made an attempt to calm the infant while frowning at them, “Queenie is adaptive and powerful. I share in MacCready’s optimism and am almost positive she’s still alive.” Returning to the couch, she offered her daughter a breast, leaned back and closed her eyes. Hancock wasn’t the only one who was exhausted. “We need a better plan. Something actionable.”

MacCready and Hancock politely turned their backs and went to seat themselves at the mayor’s bar, the former reaching over the counter to grab a bottle of whiskey. He poured two portions and was surprised when the ghoul declined. His concern grew when Hancock set his brow into the heal of his palm and muttered something about “headaches”.

“You’re like, the fifth person I’ve talked to today who has a headache.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I just need some Mentats and I’ll be right as rain.”

MacCready, unconvinced, continued to frown at him, “You’re sure that’s best…”

Hancock chuckled, “Sez the man who just drank a fifth of whiskey.”

“Oh… right.” MacCready reached out and gently grabbed the back of Hancock’s head and pulling him in close, bumped their foreheads together much the same way Wraith would.

They stayed together this way for almost a minute before Hancock leaned away, smiling, “Ya know, I think that might’ve helped.”

Fahrenheit rolled her eyes at them, “Absolute mush.” She stood and patted her daughter on the back, “A plan, gentlemen; where do we go from here?”

“I got a idea, actually…”

“Well, be gentle with it. It’s in a strange place.”

“Ha ha.” Now it was MacCready’s turn to roll his eyes, “You remember that one vault that was down in Quincy Quarries?”

Hancock growled, “Yeah, I remember. There was a Vault-Tec scientist there who’d turned ghoul. The place is massive. Wraith tried to set up a whole settlement down there; it’s fully powered and everything. She gave up though. Folks told her it was like livin’ in someone else’s grave…”

“Exactly! It’s completely abandoned but probably fully provisioned and fortified. Not to mention the entrance is right in the middle of one of the most irradiated places in the Commonwealth.” He smiled and swept his hands out across the bar, as if revealing the answer to all the world’s problems, “I can’t imagine a more perfect place for a mass of feral ghouls to spend the winter.”

“That’s actually… hmm, that’s not bad.”

MacCready’s triumphant smile returned and he beamed at her, “Now I know she sealed it off, but…”

A sudden commotion in the stairwell outside interrupted him. They could hear raised voices and the thundering footsteps of several men running up the stairs.

Fahrenheit reached the door just as a Watch member had raised a fist to knock and narrowly avoided getting knuckled in the face, “Report!”

Staring stupidly for a moment, the ghoul shook himself, stammering awkwardly, “Cap… Cap’n Fahrenheit… Mayor Hancock… I… it’s bad!”

“Now what?!” Hancock pushed himself to his feet and quickly crossed the room.

“There’s some drifters going crazy! Two… two were in the Rail and…”

“Show me!”

It was bedlam in the streets of Goodneighbor. The Neighborhood watch fought to subdue residents who, only moments before had been calm and peaceful. MacCready and Hancock separated as soon as they were at ground-level. Each picked a target and rushing to help pin the snarling, apparently feral, ghouls without killing them.

“Knock them out if you can!” Fahrenheit stood on the balcony and called instruction to her subordinates. “On your three o’clock, Coach!”

“Then… oof… what?!” MacCready caught an elbow to the ribs, “You don’t have a jail here. Where… Ow! Goddamn it! This guy just bit me!”

At that moment, Magnolia, face pale as a ghost, rushed to Hancock’s side, “There’s a glowing one in the Rail! I think… I think… I think it’s Her!”

Thank you for reading! Like what you’ve read? Looking for more? Please see my master link: pinned post and tagged as Wraith in the Ruins. As always, any questions/concerns/comments please feel free to send me an ask. I look forward to hearing from you. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout fanfic #fallout fan fiction #fallout 4 #fallout companions #john hancock #rj maccready #maccready #hancock

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for-my-life-still-ahead-pity-me · 5 years

Text

A Bit of Sunshine (Gardner Langway x Reader) (pt. 5)

Summary: While a new arrival on the end of Gardner’s postal route starts to stir-up his schedule, he becomes a comforting constant in theirs.

Previous Next (?)

Warnings: Cotton-candy sweet, may get a toothache.

Word Count: 3,398

A/N: Gardner is a sweetheart, and I wrote this to distract myself from the fact that I am starting my final year of college in a few days :)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Gardner stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at his reflection intently. It was like he’d never really looked at himself before. Like everything was new and different—the way his hair curled up and away from his forehead after brushing it, the crinkle between his eyebrows, the depth of color in his eyes. It was as if, before this moment, he hadn’t been concerned with how he looked, how everything about himself tied together. When he put on his postal uniform in the morning, it was an easy comfort. He knew that the sky blue of the shirt matched the grey-blue of his shorts, which––he had been told––accentuated the red tone of his hair. When he changed into civilian clothes at the end of the day there was never much worry if it looked good; he only ever hung around Cal and his friends from the post office. None of them cared if he wore a polo shirt or shorts, or if the colors matched.

But, now, Gardner suddenly found himself worrying about those things. Did the yellow of his shirt clash with the khaki color of his pants? Or did it match too closely and look funny? Were sneakers okay? Was his hair brushed enough? Did he always look so frowny when he concentrated? He suddenly wished that there was a full-length mirror somewhere in the house or the boat. Gardner had never felt so concerned about how he presented himself; but he was about to embark on a date with you and he wanted everything to be perfect.

A rapid, quirky knock sounded on the door, which then swung open without Gardner responding. The door nearly hit the contemplative postman, who had to shuffle quickly to avoid being struck. Calvin leaned into the tiny bathroom, hanging off the door frame and clinging to the door knob.

“How’s it goin’?” he drawled in a sing-songy voice. Then his nose crinkled a little upon eyeing Gardner’s shirt. “You’re going with yellow?”

“Yeah,” Gardner responded. He watched his expression morph into something less pinched and little more openly worried––eyes wide, brows both arched and pinched. He turned away from the mirror and faced Cal full-on. “Is it bad?”

Cal shrugged, holding his shoulders up by his ears; his lips puckered and pursed as he considered the yellow shirt, which was interrupted in thin, tasteful white stripes. “I mean... it’s yellow.”

“I like yellow.”

“But does she like yellow? It’s a very controversial color. You either love it, or you hate it.”

In all the conversations that Gardner had with you, he had never thought to ask about a favorite color. That’s what people did, didn’t they? Ask about favorite colors and food and animals? He presumed you liked yellow. You had enough yellow flowers in your garden, and enough yellow clothing and accessories to make him believe that you at least liked the color. But maybe you were indifferent. Maybe you had no opinion on it. Regardless, he associated the color with you; he’d never really thought yellow to be a particularly inviting color until you’d handed him that pansy. It made him happy, now, made him feel warm. Even the most garish shade felt like the warmth of the sun on his skin.

“It reminds me of her,” Gardner admitted, panicked expression softening.

Calvin, still hanging through the doorway, staring at Gardner contemplatively. Then, slowly, he started to nod. The hand that had been gripping the doorknob lifted and pointed.

“That’s good. Chicks like to hear stuff like that. Keep the yellow. You look confident,” Cal praised with a nod. Gardner wondered if he meant that wearing the color was a bold choice, or if he actually looked more confident. Then Calvin made a face, one that scrunched up in friendly concern. “I’d change the pants though.”

“Too similar?” Gardner pinched the hem of his shirt, bringing attention to the color again.

Cal nodded sagely, as though he had the best wealth of information on the subject of getting ready for a date. “Too similar.” Then his brows perked up and he held up a finger. “And!” Calvin darted down the hall––to his room, presumably––and dashed back into view. He held a bottle of cologne in his hand, which he then proffered to his friend. “Chicks go crazy over this stuff.” Gardner frowned down at the bottle and the amber liquid inside. There was a buzz from the kitchen. With a delighted sound, Calvin gave a little jump. “The zucchini loaf!” Calvin bolted towards the kitchen, running on his toes excitedly.

Gardner popped the cap of the cologne off and lifted it to his nose; a sniff revealed its scent. It was over-powering and tickled the back of his throat in an unpleasant manner. With his nose crinkling, Gardner placed the cologne on the sink counter, untouched and unused. Best to go without it. He looked back up into the mirror and pursed his lips. Tentatively, he reached up and ran his fingers through the front of his hair, which gave it a bit of a messier look, and made him look less of a kid on picture day. With an exhale that puffed his cheeks out, Gardner nodded to himself in the mirror.

It was now or never.

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

You wished that you had a picnic basket.

It would have been a lot cuter than the reusable shopping tote that you’d taken out of your closet. But the tote had to do, and it was large enough to carry everything you needed. Instead of going out to a restaurant or a movie, you’d suggested a picnic. Gardner had agreed to the idea after admitting sheepishly that, despite asking you to go out on a date with him, hadn’t thought up where to go. He’d just wanted to go out. The park was an agreeable spot; you both liked the outdoors. The park was nice in the evenings, and it was rarely crowded, which would give you both some semblance of privacy.

The spot you chosen was situated in the ever-growing shade of a large oak tree. The blanket you’d taken from home was an old quilt and, like your tote bag, not the cutest thing in the world. But it was well-loved and comfortable, and that was all that mattered. Gardner was sat crisscrossed to one side of the blanket, hands primly folded in his lap. He watched as you started to take things out of the tote bag, and reached out to take them from you.

“You’ll have to thank Calvin for the zucchini bread,” you said, laughing lightly. You were holding the mentioned loaf, which was wrapped in tinfoil and a checkered dishtowel in hopes of keeping it warm. Gardner smiled, took the carefully wrapped loaf, and set it down gingerly.

“He wants to know if you like it. Fair warning, if you do and I tell him, you’ll be getting them once a week,” Gardner forewarned with a smile.

You laughed and pulled out two cling-wrap covered sandwiches. “I’m a bread lover, I think I could handle it.” Then you held up the sandwiches. “Though, if I knew that this was going to become a bread-heavy meal, I would’ve made something a little more... inspiring than sandwiches.”

Gardner shrugged with a sweet smile. “I don’t mind. I like sandwiches.”

When you’d been getting ready for the date, you’d panicked about what to actually bring for a picnic. You were fairly sure the last one you’d ever been on was when you were twelve, and you probably had been more interested in making daisy chains than eating whatever had been packed. Bringing cheese and crackers seemed a bit inconvenient, and while it seemed romantic, you’d have had to tote around different cheese knives and probably plates. Sandwiches were easy. You could hold them in your hand, they weren’t terribly messy, and they were filling. Sandwiches had been a gamble––not everyone liked them––but they were simple. And, thankfully, you’d made the right choice.

“Good, ‘cause otherwise I’ve just got potato chips in this bag,” you laughed, extracting the mentioned snack. You made a bit of a face and set the tote aside; the look that you flashed the man on the other side of the blanket was apologetic. “It’s not a lot. Sorry.”

Gardner shook his head and picked up one of the sandwiches, smiling just as sweetly as he had been since you picked him up outside Calvin’s house. He had been standing at the foot of the driveway with the towel wrapped loaf of bread in hand, rocking on his feet. When you’d appeared in your car, he had smiled; it was a soft look, a heart-melting look. And he’d been dutifully wearing it ever since he opened the door of your car.

“It’s perfect,” he assured. You beamed and started to unwrap the other sandwich, the cling wrap making a sticky sound as you pulled at it. Then you watched as Gardner surveyed the food laid out on the blanket. His eyebrows furrowed, then, and your smile waned a little. “There’s something missing.”

You, too, looked at what you’d brought––the bag of chips, the zucchini bread, the sandwiches, the two plastic cups and the water bottle beside it filled with lemonade. It wasn’t the most substantial early dinner, but you thought it would probably be enough. You wracked your brain nervously, trying to recall if Gardner had mentioned wanting something in particular.

“Oh?”

With a nod, Gardner rose to his feet and walked away from your little picnic area. You watched, bewildered, as he padded in an aimless direction, no further explanation given. He stopped suddenly and dropped into a crouch. After a moment, he turned back around and revealed he was pinching something in his fingers. Upon returning, you saw that it was a very tiny bouquet of clovers and sunny dandelions. When Gardner plopped back down, he placed the small pile of flowers in the middle of the blanket proudly.

“There,” he said with an equally proud smile. He leaned back on his hands, sitting more casually than before. “Perfect.”

You grinned at him, your heart jauntily skipping a little beat. Gardner was beaming. Perfect teeth on display, eyes twinkling and crinkling in delight at the corners. It was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him, slouching back on his hands, shirt a little rumpled, hair a little mussed. You wondered if it would be weird to take a picture of him, because you wanted to capture and keep that image of him forever.

“Yeah,” you agreed gently. “Perfect.”

Gardner’s smile relaxed into one that was close-lipped, but still lovely. His head lolled to the side a little so his cheek rested on his shoulder. For a comfortably quiet moment you both just gazed at one another. You basked in being in the other’s presence without the pressures of anything––no jobs to finish, no dinner plans to get to, no friends peering through curtains curiously. You could talk leisurely and enjoy the oncoming evening. But you would just be equally as happy sitting side-by-side quietly, not talking at all, just enjoying being with Gardner. And the way he was watching you, with the gentlest of expressions, made you think that he’d be okay with doing that, too.

“I’ll, uh, try the zucchini bread first,” you decided, setting aside your half-unwrapped sandwich. You picked up the loaf and started to unwrap the dishtowel with a chuckle. “Calvin seems to be very intent that all his food be eaten warm. He mentioned something about an eggplant parmesan congealing when I stopped in to get my car fixed.”

Gardner shrugged as much as he could with his arms in the position they were in. “It’s his favorite dish, he’s a little protective of it.”

You peeled open the tinfoil and tore a chunk of the bread off, and you regretted not having brought a knife of any sort. You smirked over at Gardner. “He seemed very upset that you let it cool off.”

Gardner arched his eyebrows. “It was you who kept me out late,” he pointed out. You scoffed teasingly and Gardner jutted his head forward as though to wordlessly further his point.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” you laughed brightly. “You chose to say, so I think that we’re mutually responsible for causing the parmesan to congeal." With that you popped the bread into your mouth and started to chew. Your brows furrowed briefly before you let out a hum of content; you slapped a hand down over your heart. “Oh, that’s good." You said it with your mouth full, but held a hand over it to block any unfavorable sights. Once you swallowed you pointed at Gardner. “You tell Calvin you’ll never be late for eggplant parmesan again, because I will drive you home and join you if it’s as good as this bread.”

With a laugh as warm as the fading sunlight, Gardner shook his head and pushed off his hands. He started to unwrap his sandwich carefully, a smile still split across his face.

“If you praise his food enough he won’t ever let you leave,” he warned with a small laugh. You playfully rolled your eyes skyward in contemplation. The corner of your mouth rose into a smirk.

“I dunno, living with someone who makes great food and lives next to you sounds like a pretty good deal to me,” you hummed with a coy shrug. Your eyes fell to Gardner, your smirk growing into a smile. The smile he returned was quickly hidden in his sandwich, head ducked as he took a bite. He looked sheepish, almost, and it made your heart flutter.

The two of you chatted amiably as you ate. Gardner told you about some rare stamps he had that his friends from the post office coveted, so much so that each week one of them tried to see what they could trade to get them off him. You told him about how you were planning on starting a vegetable garden in the back yard, something that you’d tried before, but had never succeeded in doing. This led to you complaining about a sudden influx of beetles in your garden, and Gardner mentioned he’d seen a couple in the gardens of neighboring houses. The conversation was easy, and though there were lulls, one of you always eagerly brought a new topic up when it came to mind.

By the time the sandwiches were gone, the zucchini bread was picked at, and the lemonade half drunk, both of you were reclined on the well-loved quilt. Gardner had his hands folded atop his stomach, a position that you had mimicked when every other way to lie down felt uncomfortable. Your elbows were touching, though you wished you felt confident enough to turn on your side and wrap your arms around him. You turned your head to look over at Gardner, who was observing the purple hue of the sky with a gentle look. With a smile quirking at the corners of your mouth, you gently nudged your elbow against his. When he shifted his gaze over to you, you smiled a little wider.

“We swapped,” you said. Much to his confusion, apparently, because his brows furrowed. With a little laugh, you gestured to his shirt. “You’re wearing yellow.” You then pointed to the comfortable sundress you’d opted for. “I’m wearing blue.”

The furrow between Gardner’s brows smoothed out, and a smile pulled across his face. “Are you gonna deliver the mail, now?”

“Absolutely,” you laughed. Your dress was postal-uniform blue. “You gonna make the wedding bouquet arrangements for the end of the week?”

Gardner’s reply was a silent nod, though his smile was genuine and sweet.

You rolled a little so you were laying on your side, arms tucked under your head. For a quiet moment, you admired him in much the same way he had been admiring the sky. It hadn’t been long ago that the two of you were complete strangers. You had never thought, when you’d given him that flower, that you would end up where you were––and you were okay with that. Because where you were was really quite nice, and you wouldn’t exchange it for anything in the world.

After a moment, Gardner also shifted onto his side, which left the two of you closer than you had been before. The smile had drifted off his face, but his expression was still gentle. Still as admiring as it had been when it was directed up towards the sky, which was starting to darken in color. You watched as he reached down and grabbed something from between the two of you; his hand rose to show one of the dandelions from the tiny bouquet he’d picked. Quietly, he pressed the bloom to his nose, twirled it a little, and then held it there. Gardner then reached out to place it behind your ear, pulling at the stem so it sat snugly and securely. The action prompted a fond little giggle from your throat.

Once the dandelion was secure, Gardner’s fingers slowly danced along your jaw. The touch was light, ticklish almost. The kind of gentleness he used in touching your skin, was the same as the kind he used when examining his beloved stamps. When his fingers reached your chin, they paused. They slowly splayed out to cradle the expanse of jaw he’d just touched, and his thumb gently swept over the corner of your mouth. When Gardner repeated the action with his thumb, your lips parted a little. His eyes had become singularly focused on your mouth, and his own had opened somewhat. He shifted a little, wiggling slightly closer and bunching up the quilt in the process. You could just barely feel his breath against your skin. Everything about the moment was intimate, so sweetly intimate that you nearly felt hypnotized.

“Can I kiss you?” Gardner asked, voice barely above a murmur.

You bobbed your head a little in a nod, his hand still gently cradling your cheek. “Yes.”

He closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. The kisses that you’d shared with Gardner had always been gentle and sweet; he seemed to be incapable of being anything but. He had started to kiss your cheek after delivering your mail, just before he sauntered up the street with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. Those kisses were always quick, nothing more than a peck, but they left you giddy and giggly.

These kisses, though, the ones where your lips actually met, left you feeling breathless. He’d first kissed you on Wednesday, and it was Sunday, now. There had only been one other instance where he’d asked to kiss you, and that was on Thursday, when he’d asked about going on a date. That kiss, just like the others, was something completely special. They may have been gentle and slow, but they conveyed a world of emotion he didn’t seem to know how to communicate yet.

You threaded your fingers through Gardner’s hair at the nape of his neck. He hummed in response and drew away, only to kiss you for a second time. A giggle that you couldn’t fight off bubbled in your throat and you smiled into the kiss. When the second kiss broke, Gardner continued to lavish your face with attention. A kiss was pressed to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your forehead. In response, you shuffled a little closer and kissed the tip of his nose, which spurred a blissful smile to split across Gardner’s face. You then cuddled yourself into his chest, comfortably nuzzling your head underneath his chin.

The sky was turning dusky and the air smelled sweet. The quilt beneath you was cushioned by the grass underneath, and the warmth of Gardner’s arms as they wrapped around you was immensely comfortable. The moment was perfect. And, like so many others you’d shared with Gardner, you wished that it could last forever. But since you knew that, once it was dark enough, you would have to leave, you contented yourself to be happy in the moment. So you smiled gently into his chest; and you could feel Gardner press a smiling kiss to the top of your head.

Tag List: @honimello, @someone-get-a-medic, @dearestdeaky, @bohemiandeakyy, @sleepyblossom, @gardnerlangway, @ramibaby

#gardner langway x reader #dear sidewalk imagine #joe mazzello x reader #a bit of sunshine #joe mazzello #gardner langway #dear sidewalk #my writing

124 notes · View notes

evakuality · 5 years

Note

Oh, Allie, I love your writing. And I love some sweet banter. What about 38 for davenzi? ❤️

Thank you for playing! I hope you don’t mind this becoming part of the longish fic that I’ve been working on. For you, Camilla, it’s the final chapter of the fic that grew out of several prompts! (If anyone else wants to send more, the list can be found over here, and chapter one is available on tumblr here and Ao3 right here). This chapter is also available on Ao3.

Rings, Riddles and Revenge. Chapter Six: “Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”

David

The bell over the store’s door tinkles, alerting David to a new customer entering. It’s instinct now, the way he reacts to that sound. His face settles automatically into its customer service facade, and he straightens his back ready to smile and welcome whoever this is with his best, and most perfectly polite, service voice. Out of the corner of his eye, David can see his coworker grinning and he remembers, relaxing a little.

He’s not in his old shop anymore. He’s not expected to have the same sort of stiff formal approach when talking to customers. In fact, he’s expected rather to be warmer, more open. He’s been working here for the last few weeks but it still hasn’t become second nature to act more naturally, the bell bringing muscle memory in before he can even stop himself. He hears Sonja’s delighted cackle as his body slumps a little, and he huffs his frustration while rolling his eyes at her.

“I can’t get over your face every single time,” she says. “It’s been weeks and you’re still like a dog when its master comes home, all alert and eager to please.”

She pats his arm, her amusement clear in the ostentatiously condescending nature of the contact. Being here is such a different experience, David thinks as he ducks out of her way and growls his fake irritation. Sonja likes to tease and mess with him. In her own words, ‘a quiet workplace is a boring workplace,’ and so David has to watch out for pranks at strange moments as well as this sort of banter. He loves it. Blows her a kiss through his affectation of a scowl. Her grin widens as she nods towards the door. “Better watch out,” she says, “today’s customer is your boyfriend, and he might get the wrong idea if you keep doing that.”

David’s fake scowl dissipates immediately as he looks up and indeed sees Matteo, grinning his own smug satisfaction at him.

“This reminds me of that first day I met you,” he says, leaning his arms on the counter and bending forward so he can peck David’s cheek. “That serious face, and perfect smile. Do you want to call me ‘sir’ to make it feel like old times?”

“Ass,” David says, returning the kiss but pushing at Matteo’s arm where it’s lying on one of Sonja’s new projects. Matteo glances down at it and pouts as he moves the arm away form her work, and sadly away from David’s. Matteo always hates this, David thinks with a small smirk of his own. He may pretend to be above such things, but Matteo does like to be able to snuggle when he comes in, and Sonja’s projects are the only thing he’s not allowed to mess up. They’re the only thing that gets in the way of their closeness. Well, those and the times when David has to actually work, greeting customers or placing stock carefully on shelves.

Still pouting, Matteo sits down on a stool at the far end of the counter. “Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?” he asks, as he leans onto the counter and tilts his head in the way that David knows is an imitation of his own.

David smiles, his fondness bleeding through into the attempt at exasperation. “I do appreciate it,” he says. “In the right place at the right time.”

Matteo pokes his tongue out, making David laugh. It’s always like this, quiet teasing and silliness, and he’s not sure how he could ever have thought of Matteo differently, as the serious guy with the sad eyes and aura of melancholy. That’s not who he truly is inside.

The store’s bell tinkles again, and once again David’s spine tightens, he drags his eyes immediately away from Matteo’s, and his service smile flicks up and onto his face. He catches it quickly, lets himself relax more naturally, but not before Matteo snorts his amusement from the other end of the counter. David squints back over at him, hoping he can see the frown and will behave. No such luck. Instead, Matteo lounges more firmly against the counter, his eyes alight and the same cheeky grin David fell for on his face. He looks smug, as if he’s waiting to see how David handles whatever he’s about to throw at him.

David goes through the motions of ascertaining what the customer wants and making sure he knows where in the store to find it before he can give more attention to Matteo and that look. Something about the whole situation is prickling his ‘I’m being pranked’ alarm bells, and he squints suspiciously in Matteo’s direction once the man has moved away.

“Those clothes look awfully familiar,” David says, as he makes his way back down the counter to where Matteo is perched.

“I certainly hope so,” Matteo says with his grin widening. “We’ve been living in the same place for a while now. I’d say you weren’t doing your share of the laundry if they didn’t.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” David says, sure now that something is going on. “That’s exactly what you were wearing that very first day I met you.”

Matteo shrugs, seemingly unconcerned on the outside, but David knows him well enough to know that something really is up. He’s a little too nonchalant in the way he’s poised on the stool and in the way he’s leaning, his body not quite as relaxed as he wants David to believe.

“I wear the same clothes sometimes, David; that’s a thing you know. We can’t all be like you with your huge range of clothes.”

He’s teasing, his voice soft and loving as he says it. Because it’s a standing joke among all their friends that David only wears black or Matteo’s clothes, and Matteo knows saying this will get him an exasperated loving glance. Still, David refuses to be put off. He carefully moves Sonja’s precious project to the side and picks up his cloth to dust.

The store is one of those places that seems to pick up dust just by existing, and a sunny warm bar of light highlights every mote in the air. It’s part of what gives the store its lived in and comfortable feeling, but it does mean that David is almost constantly dusting to try to keep it somewhat pleasant for the customers. It doesn’t really need a proper dusting today, but the cloth gives him something to do while he examines Matteo and it’s something he’s done so often that Matteo won’t be suspicious when he sees it happening.

From under lowered lashes, David watches as Matteo’s eyes dart towards Sonja and one lip quirks up at the side as he licks them nervously. David can see her face from where he’s standing and she’s got a fond, exasperated expression around her eyes. She nods, tips her chin in David’s direction, and Matteo takes a breath and turns back towards David. Through the stirred up dust, he looks almost angelic as his face slides from cheeky amusement into something more serious. David looks down at the counter briefly, trying to compose himself; Matteo’s face like that always has this effect on him. He can’t concentrate on anything else if he’s looking at Matteo when he’s focused in that particular way.

“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake,” Matteo says softly, drawing David’s eyes back to him.

“Excuse me?” David says, letting the cloth fall onto the counter as he takes in Matteo, holding out a battered old leather ring case, not quite down on one knee, but definitely not lounging anymore either.

Matteo

“I said, the diamond in your engagement ring is fake,” Matteo repeats. His heart is hammering, even though he knows David’s going to agree. They’ve even talked about this and about how long they’d wait before one or the other would do this. But Matteo can’t wait; once he’d had the idea he couldn’t see himself doing it on any day other than this one, exactly one year since David said those words to him.

Even so, even though he knows with every atom in his body that David is on the same page, the entire world slows down after he says the words. Matteo watches as David’s face shifts through a series of complicated expressions, his lips pressing together in his startlement and his eyes widening, the lashes framing them flickering up with his surprise.

“I don’t have …” David starts, and then his face flushes, red staining his cheeks, and his breath sucking in while his eyes widen as he gets it. “You ass. That’s my line.”

David’s voice is wobbly with emotion, though, and Matteo grins, relief flooding his body and leaving him almost weak with it. “I know, but I always wanted to say it. Anyway,” he adds, shaking the box. “You do have an engagement ring. If … if you want it.”

The fondest, most loving expression crosses David’s face, softening his features into something almost boyish, and Matteo’s heart leaps as he reaches out to touch the box gently. “Is that …?”

“Yeah,” Matteo says, opening it to show him. The ring lies there, glowing innocently exactly as it did a year ago when David had told Matteo the news and his heart had sunk into his shoes at the thought that he couldn’t help his mother out, after all. “It’s my dad’s ring.”

What better revenge could Matteo get on his father, after all, than using it for this? Being happy with it, not as an object of value and something to be paraded about as a sign of family honor, but as a sign of his love. He’s been happier than he’d ever dreamed possible since he decided not to sell it, so why not gift it to the person who helped make that true?

“So,” Matteo says, wanting to hear an actual answer now. Even though he can see it in the flush on David’s cheeks, the tremble in his hand and the joy in those gorgeous brown eyes, he needs to hear it out loud. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” David says. “Of course I will.”

His discarded dusting cloth is lying on the counter, forgotten, and he stares at Matteo as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing and what he’s just said. For some reason, Matteo is fixated on that cloth, and on the hand that sits quietly next to it, the hand that should by rights have a ring on it right now.

Matteo reaches out and picks it up, notices the shake in his own hand as he wrestles the ring from the box and holds it out with a questioning quirk of his brow. David nods, so matteo carefully and gently pushes the ring onto his finger. It’s not quite the right fit, sits a little loosely as it slides down. David curls his hand over to keep it in place, looks at it for a long moment and then glances up at Matteo with a smile. It’s not his usual grin, not the normal fondly amused or exasperated look. It’s filled with an honest, pure love, and Matteo’s breath catches in his throat.

“Do you think maybe you could come over here so I can kiss you properly?” Matteo asks. He can hear the emotion in his own voice, and winces as he notices Sonja’s cackle behind them. She’s enjoying this, enjoying their less-than-perfect conversation. David hears her too and his eyes narrow a little as he looks over at her for a moment. Matteo looks her way as well, sees the way she’s trying to hold her own emotions in and lets out a breath. David steps out and around to where Matteo is standing.

“I feel like this was a bit of a set up,” he says as he reaches Matteo, nodding over at Sonja as he wraps his arms around Matteo’s waist.

“Mmmm, I might have had a little help in getting everything exactly right,” Matteo admits, propping his own hands up onto David’s shoulders and smiling.

He’s not going to admit to it all, at least not yet. Not to the fact that he did dig out the exact clothes he was wearing that day they met, nor to the fact that he’d had Sonja precisely timing his entrance so that he could say the words at the exact moment David had said them a year ago. He’s not willing to admit to being that sappy, not yet. It’s one thing to be this way, it’s quite another to be open and naked with that truth. He thinks David might get it anyway, if the small huff of laughter he gives is any indication.

David’s nose is running up and along his own, sending sparks down his spine. It’s something Matteo’s become used to over the last almost-year they’ve been together, but it’s different now because they’re officially engaged now. That’s a whole new world of things opening up for them, and Matteo sighs in happiness as he tilts his head up and David finally, finally presses his lips to Matteo’s.

“I love you,” David says when they finally part.

Matteo may have heard those words a hundred times before this, he may have known deep in his bones that it’s true, and yet hearing them today feels different, feels bigger somehow. He runs his own nose along David’s, listening for the inevitable small gasp David makes when he does it. It’s these things, the small things, that matter most and Matteo sighs into another kiss.

“I love you too,” he says when they part again, letting his fingers feel the ring where it sits on David’s hand. “Who’d have thought this little thing would bring us here like this.”

“Yeah,” David agrees, grinning as he takes matteo’s hand, pressing the warm band of the rings against his own fingers. “Who’d have thought that awkward man with the fake ring would be the one to propose to me?”

Rolling his eyes, Matteo quiets him with another kiss. This is what he’s always wanted, and in some ways he wants to thank his father; if it hadn’t been for his obsession with the ring Matteo would never have found David and never have found this. It seems like revenge can be sweet, after all.

#druck #davenzi #my fic stuff #my prompt stuff #my ask stuff #hjertetssunnegalskap1

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jess-the-vampire · 5 years

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Sky And The Forces Of The Multiverse, Chapter 27

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The Next few days were weird. But not the kinda weird Sky had been expecting after going on a mission to possible save the lives of the princess, her family, and literally her own army. She wasn't surprised at the higher restrictions, the curfew, the increased security, though she was thankful the butterfly and lucitor family decided not to tail the kids with guards anymore, hoping their new system would work without them. No, none of this was surprising unfortunately considering what had happened. What was is the fact Nora and Angel were still here.

They had seemingly....temporally moved in until further notice when it came to their parents, angel refused to leave his mother in her state, and considering he had lessons here anyway his father didn't mind as long as they were both kept under management and taken cared for, and nora's parents, despite not entirely ok with letting their daughter out of their sight under these circumstances, seemed to feel a little bit safe under star's roof then their own after their own fiasco. Yeah, they knew her broke into butterfly castle once, but at least here they had magic shields and protection charms that might help ward off any potential evil, even if that meant keeping nora out of their eyes 24/7. Nora was rather happy about this change though, getting to see the garden more often then ever, not to mention getting to spend time with her new friends. It almost made up for losing her research and spending so long by herself during the crisis. Almost. Angel was much more of a mixed bag, even if sky was starting to feel at least a little better about him sticking around and even if star herself was starting to stop treating him as a nuisance herself. He either wouldn't leave his mother's bed side, or tag alongside sky and judas as much as loki used to. Loki had done it mostly because he was bored, wanted to spy, or literally had nothing better to do with his time since he lacked a ton of friends and was terrible at makings ones but angel did it cause he literally only seemed to find the least bit of comfort around judas and sky. He only left his mother for lessons or because the people in the hospital wing asked him to and his first instinct was to find sky and it was rather.....unusual. Angel was one of those guys who tried to seem respectable most of the time, trying to at least somewhat look good talking in a princely matter, but over time his usually seemingly prince attitude wavered and his angsty teen side seemed to pop out more. He probably spent so much time pressuring himself to "Fix" everything for his people and protest about adult issues and deal with his own parental issues he'd really never gotten a chance to be a teen. So sky now was stuck with moody teen angel, going through a lot of clear emotional issues. Not that it was surprising, she'd probably be freaking out as well. He wasn't the worst company to have around, loki was far more annoying because he got more heavily into her business and made more uncomfortable remarks. But it was hard to do a lot with a spider prince following you around awkwardly so much of the time. Judas however, seemed to kinda feel delighted they were getting along better, the situation oddly enough allowing them to hang out like they had promised, even if it wasn't under the circumstances in which they pitched. No doubt to sky, angel really did care about judas, asking about his arm more often then he probably needed to. He kept trying to be cool around him, though was having a harder time maintaining it. Angel was not very social and talked formally most of the time, so he was already an oddball to be hanging around a bunch of royal teens who wore chokers and snuck out of the castle to get cornshakes at night. Though he seemed to be trying to appease judas and sky as much as possible so he wasn't on their bad side anymore, though if he was doing a good job at that with his tripping over his words and constant cluelessness he had no idea. Judas was just happy he was even allowed to see his friends at all, thank god for his parents caring about that so much, he could see nora, angel was starting to open up better, and he and landon were on...better terms. Landon himself had been trying to pull him aside for conversation but it felt like whatever he wanted to talk about, he wanted to talk about in private, and the addition of nora and angel now made that even harder. Though he had a feeling landon was also distracted with his earth friend as well. At this point in time, sky and judas were walking alongside each other, the team off handling other things and leaving them some time to speak. "I wish i could've seen galexia and sunny's performance, it sounds....incredibly if what my parents said was anything to consider....artistic?", he smiled to himself, thinking back on sunny's love of acting. "Honestly i think it suits her....it sure seems to make her happy.". His companion could only shrug, "At least it came in handy...though you think she'll do another?". "I'd watch it.". "What was it about?". "About a princess wanting to make a name for herself and a prince wishing he was in the shadows more....i think she spends too much time with us...though i heard she and lexi played all the roles so i have to watch for that alone.", to be honest the thought of sunny wearing a mustache to pretend to be a prince and then immediately removing it to be a completely different character did seem rather hilarious. The two friends playfully bumping into each other with their shoulders. "You sure it was a good idea to tell luna.....everything?". "Well...". "Well what?". "There's one thing i'm iffy on telling her, ....galexia...."., he was rubbing the back of his head, "Sunny hasn't given us updates on anything worrisome in particular of course, but i'm still worried what would happen if we told her about lexi's uh....gift? I want us to fully be able to trust each other but she makes me anxious sometimes, i don't know how she'd react to lexi knowing the future.", he had a fair point, especially since luna seemed to not be honest about herself as well. "The one cheek mark glowing thing? Creepy...", he kinda had to agree, that was a rather uncomfortable thing to know she could do, it was certainly not a thing most queens could do which gave him the feeling when luna said they shared a lot in common, she was not saying it to get him on her side, she was actually serious. Though maybe instead of being too freaked out they should be more relieved they hadn't gotten killed thanks to her help. Though he still wasn't sure about telling her. Luna herself got even more praised for being a savoir and closer to her mom of this universe a little bit more then ever, honestly this entire situation makes it harder to keep themselves in the shadows , but on the plus side there were benefits to being friends with someone so close to the leader of the knights and was seen as a hero. Luna herself however, was mixed, on the other hand she could do more things without it being suspicious, on another hand....it was harder to get others to leave her alone. So much happened in one day and it now reshaped almost everything to the point in which everyone was more anxious. "Let's just hope luna doesn't do anything....more creepy...i'm still paranoid about her wiping nora's memory while she's here, i mean i don't want to think luna would do something like that but then again I can't claim to know luna well, she's very closed off. I know i said i don't think it's smart to focus too much on the other timelines, but-". "You want to at least try and get her to be open about herself instead of being a pushover? Yeah i get it...", she turned her head and shoved her hands inside her pockets, "She got so mad she freaked, I guess whoever that ash guy was, she's used to being mad at him...". At least that seemed to be the assumption since her rampage clearly came out of force of habit, sky had to give the guy props if he put up with luna for as long as he seemed to probably have. "Brother? Boyfriend? Her maybe crush?", judas began suggesting off the top of his head, "Well actually if they were dating, they sound a little dysfunctional...no offense..". His partner's guess was as good as his, "Well, at least we know she has someone back home waiting for her besides her moms, that's kinda interesting, she kinda made it always out like she wanted to get back just to be back and not because she had a lot of people back home she missed...she's not a people person...". "Oh? And we are?", that made him chuckle, "Maybe we're being too nosy, we kinda wanna be open and friendly and i guess luna just really isn't the type to open up like that unless she's comfortable, she's not all bad, even if she does have things to work out for herself...". Sky seemed to soften at that, the two walking in silence a little longer as sky glanced over to see judas rubbing at his arm, feeling the shock band he was wearing under his jacket anxiously. "Hey....you sure you're doing ok with your arm?", she mumbled, "Like, I know the whole situation really freaked you out...I hope you're not mad i didn't y'know....shock you? The thing kinda went on it's own rampage and-", but he interrupted her, trying to calm her down about his situation, "No no, it's ok, i'll be ok....it was kinda a stressful situation....and we were fine, we all made it out and it didn't end up hurting anyone....hopefully, so...you're good...". "What about your family-?". "You know i can't report this back to them without explaining what happened, and my dad still hasn't come up to speak to me about my arm. My Granddad especially might flip if he found out, he likes to keep finding new ways to help and this would put more stress on him, which puts more stress on my parents...and it's like a domino effect of more problems". His granddad was a sweet guy but he knew if he ever found out his arm did....that, there's a good chance judas might be forced to deal with worse then his grumpy brother and mysterious enemy. "Jude, you look stressed, like...REALLY stressed, maybe you should take a break? I mean, i can go talk to nora if you want and get updates on whatever and maybe you can talk to your brothers or angel or something...", he did have to talk to landon about whatever it was he needed to speak about, and maybe he needed to take some time to recover. It felt like he really hadn't, despite it only having happened a few days ago, there had been so much chaos it was hard to fully take a break. Maybe he just needed a day to chill, let someone else take the reigns and handle the current situation. He must've looked nervous still because he could feel sky trying to comfort him, "Dude, it'll be ok, go spend time with your bro or something, we can call you if something freaks...i mean, you're the one who deserves a proper break more then anyone...". He genuinely smiled from that, pulling sky into a hug and kissing the top of her head sweetly before ruffling her hair, "Thanks sky...". He then took a few leaps forward, looking back at her, "I'm gonna go find landon....and hey....maybe in the meanwhile....you should go speak to luna while you're at it....I know you're kinda mad at her cause of what happened, but for the record, I think what you did was pretty awesome...". He headed off, and sky sighed, it was awesome, she just wished her saving a princess wasn't added to the long list of attributes that were already taken by others. She wandered along the halls , heading to the knight training area on her own, though as she reached the hall she spotted a face she wasn't expecting, Katrina was lying against the walls. Her face brightened at the sight of sky and she was quickly pulled into a tight hug from the frog monster, "Blue bell! Tis good to see you again! How's life holding you up?". By the looks on sky's face, not very well, and katrina sighed as she playfully poked sky's hat. "You know i had to tell em about the possession thing, no way i could let that one slide....", though the princess got it, honestly if it mean less chances of her friends ending up the same way it was fine with her overall, and at least they could tell who was possessed by appearance. "It's not a big deal, i heard from mom loki's kinda being being chained to his mom kinda though? like i get not wanting him to go out again, but that's pretty cruel punishment, even for him..". "For now, just worry about yourself, lucky they hadn't forced you to do anything under their control yet...". Sky sure hoped so, but there was no denying she was paranoid about it. "What are you doing here anyway?". "Me? Oh well, i wanted to have a talk with Miss Jackie's new gifted student, name's luna? She's the girl who apparently helped rescue poor princess spiderbite and found everyone missing from some enchanted sleeping spell, I just want to know a little bit about what happened....or....you could tell me?". Right, she was a master spy after all, sky wasn't even gonna try to lie her way outta this one, crossing her arms, "Don't...tell anyone, you know-". "They'd be mad? No kidding blue girl, i lost track of seeing you three in the woods, but i know you had something to do with it...". "We just wanted to help...". Katrina was still smiling, "and you did good, but one of these days you're going to get caught by someone other then me, and it won't be pretty.". She looked around the hallway, making sure no one was listening before leaning close and whispering, "For the record though, if you're going to sneak around, you need to learn to be more like me and my dad. We are family of spies, mostly, then you might have easier time not getting caught by me.". "you literally made me a charm to wear on my HAT to find you...". "And how many other people would be smart enough to know to use it that way?" She had a point. "your uh...partner filling in for you today?". "Yep, what about your other half?", sky simply shrugged and leaned against the wall next to her, trying to make herself comfortable, "He needed a break so he's taking one, i hope, he's kinda a little overworked so....I'm gonna try and handle some other things...". There was a moment of silence still sky looked up to see the frog smiling at her, making her grumble, "You're a good friend princess butterfly, he's lucky to have friend like you watching his back...". "I dunno, i've been kinda dumb....we did have a fight and i kinda got mad at him and yeah...", katrina slapped her on the back, showing off her monster strength and laughing, "You aren't a bad friend for having a fight blue girl , fights happen, the best friends recover from them. Don't call yourself a bad friend because you both had a fight, you two clearly care about each other, you are like family to each other. You are like true best friends". Sky nodded, "Yeah, i guess so, I just hope he's ok...". "He is strong boy, he'll be ok....". "Yeah....he is." The door suddenly opened, and Jackie, Kelly, and Luna stepped out, prompting Katrina to stand up and pull Luna to the side before sky could even get a word in with her, though jackie and kelly seemed rather happy to take her place, immediately greeting sky with hugs and head pats, "Skyler, good to see you sweetheart, we haven't gotten to hang out much since i got back from my mission, though i bet you heard about the mess i got into recently?". Kelly snickered, "I can't believe you fell asleep, i was hoping when you came back you had spent so long fighting a dragon or something!". Jackie hit her armored shoulder and snorted, "Oh i wish! But hey, luna took care of it! That girl is a miracle....you found her, right sky? Gotta say, good job.....i've never had a better recruit in my entire life...she's incredibly gifted, a true strategist, she was made for this job....she'll be a perfect replacement for me whence i eventually retire...". Wait....wait?! "Whu?', was all she could managed as jackie snorted. "Don't worry, she won't do that right away, but you know me, i eventually wanna settle down for a bit, take a rest from getting new scars. If she keeps it up at this rate she could very much take over, she's got all the skills needed and she's improving fast.". Well, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing if luna was stuck in this timeline forever, but she clearly wasn't planning to live out the rest of her life being a knight and taking the place of her mom from another universe. "Uh well, have you uh...asked her yet? Maybe she'd prefer another position?", she needed to carefully divert this in another direction, "I mean, luna's REALLY into fighting but she's also like....into other things too and what if she wanted to give another job a shot like uh....maybe a teacher? Or a curator, she...likes the history of the queens". Jackie blinked at that, but mush to sky's surprise she seemed to be very interested in her claims, "Wow, she sounds incredibly knowledgeable and smart then! Maybe we could expand her position a bit to allow for teaching as well!". Facepalm "Anyways, i appreciate it sky, and it's wonderful to see you after so long properly, you're so grown up!". She patted her head and smiled softly, reflecting, "I remember when you and judas were so tiny i could carry you both everywhere together, and now he's taller then me, and you're too grown up for rides on my shoulders.". Oh yeah, they did used to do that back in the day didn't they? Feels like forever ago, especially since Jackie got more occupied as time went on. "Eh, he gets it from his dad's side of the family, it does become a pain with doors sometimes", they all laughed together and sky got back on track, "So yeah, uh, don't start pushing luna into anything right away...i mean, she's still young.". The adults seemed to consider that a fair point though kelly butted in, "Though honestly, it'd be a huge honor to work for the royal family, it's a missed opportunity if she does choose to say no to it, but you're right it's too soon, and we need to handle this masked thief issue first and foremost.". "Gotten anywhere close?". "We-", they looked at each other before going back to sky, their cheerful tone starting to vanish, "Aren't allowed to disclose that information with you actually, we're limited in what we're allowed to tell any of you kids for that matter, no offense to you....but your parents are worried you'll start getting yourself into situations they would rather you didn't if you were more aware of the situation at hand. They care for your safety more then anything.". Too late for that. "How are we gonna be safe if we don't know what's going on though? When judas becomes king is he not gonna be allowed to know about this stuff still? He's like my best friend, he's not gonna stand for that if you tell him he can't talk to me....", which was true, judas tended to hate seeing sky or anyone feel left out of unfairly treated, like were they gonna make him take an oath? Keep an eye on him so he would'nt spill? As king would he just not be involved in this matter entirely? They didn't seem to have a god answer for sky, patting her shoulder and trying to change the subject, "You better have a talk with your mother then....anyways, it's time for our lunch break, you both be safe alright?". The two headed off, arms around the other's shoulders and sky noticed during the session luna and katrina were gone, great, just what she needed. She had to go do something else till both of them came back then, she placed her hands in her pockets and started to move when. "SKY!" "AH GALEXIA I SWEAR!!". She pushed herself against the wall in her panic, the smiling as always older girl giggling excitably, "I'm glad i found you! I want your help on something cause sunny went all poof to do something else so I wanted to ask you for some help!". Sunny had been Galexia's go-to since she got here for any help she needed, so no one was nearly as familar with what lexi did most of the time that required her help, outside of asking judas to help her find more art supplies. For a moment sky considered saying no, but then again she had nothing to lose she supposed. "Oh fine....what's up?". "You're super creative! I want you to help me design a get well card for angel's mom! Sunny wanted to do it but i think she's busy so....", oh yeah, i guess that wouldn't be too surprising considering sunny would most likely want to do something nice for angel since she had grown an attachment to wanting him to be happy. She shrugged but nodded, she honestly had no reason to say no, galexia jumped up and down before grabbing onto her hands and running to another part of the castle. Slamming the door behind them sky saw the room around them was an art room, there were rooms for everything in this castle so i guess she shouldn't be surprised though she hadn't been here herself. There were a few mewmans hanging around but no one paid lexi much mind as she pulled out a giant piece of paper from the storage closet and placed it in front of sky, opening up her jacket and letting what almost felt like hundreds of markers fly out and onto the table as well. She sure hoped she didn't steal all of them. "Wow, you really are dedicated.....i guess while he's here with us we might as well....uh....how many people do you plan to have sign it?", galexia's eyes were practically sparking, "How many people do you know? Get EVERYONE! ", she was so joyful it was almost ridiculous as she shook sky's entire body, "We want to make her feel super duper better so the more the merrier, you know everyone around here right? You should be able to ask loads of people!". "Well-". Then she looked galeixa in the eyes and knew she couldn't say no. "I'll give it a shot...". "THANK YOU!", she was pulled into a big hug and sky kinda felt herself start to smile, galexia was a little odd but she certainly had a way of bringing a smile to everyone's face. The girl started on the cover, designing and picking out the colors she needed as sky worked with her. Sky tended to plan a little more with design, since her hat ideas didn't come outta nowhere, they usually took some pre-sketching. But galexia seemed to work on impulse, drawing whatever came to her head and not even stopping. and it looked amazing, the dark background, the forest, she captured the queen beautifully despite never seeing her so lively since she arrived. Sky's smile turned sour and her contribution of flowers and stars decreased slightly, "I wish this drawing was a prediction, not having any idea what'll happen with her is kinda scary...i mean, what if she really doesn't make it? I get mad with my mom a lot but i can't imagine having her die or something...". "Not everyone is lucky enough to have good parents, is angel loves her so much she must really be important to him..", galexia hummed, reminding sky of her condition back home, "Y'know, do you really want to go back, since your parents are kinda-? I mean, here you seem happy with hanging out with the rest of us and you get special attention because you're a guest and....well...i mean, wouldn't going back feel worse with your family situation?". "I like being here...but i also like my friends back home, and my eclipsa, and my lucitors....they all care about me and we have so many memories together, I don't want them to be sad forever without me....the older man with the giant spider legs doesn't want angel to be sad forever either, and that's why he wanted you two to be friends, angel would be more sad if he had no one left....". She made a good point and sky grumbled, "You'd go back to that dimension just to be with the people who really do care no matter what huh? That's pretty cool of you...". "You wouldn't leave here for judas would you?". She didn't have to think hard on that one, "Nah....you're right, i wouldn't. He wouldn't ditch me and i wouldn't ditch him, honestly there's no way i'd adjust to your crazy worlds anyway, i'm having a hard time just being comfortable in this one. Though, you seem really comfortable, ever since you got here you've seemed mostly fine....sunny openly talks about how much she misses home, luna is distant and never talks about how she feels, celeste throws attitude, but you.....you seem like you don't feel upset at all..". "I just like spending time with the rest of you! I'm always having fun and drawing and it's hard to be too sad when i have so many new friends here! When i get home I'm gonna talk about you LOTS!", she was so enthusiastic, and sky decided to change the subject, she didn't need to make the situation depressing when they were trying to do something fun together. She couldn't recall anytime she had hung out with galeixa since she arrived, at least not one on one. This was kind refreshing considering all the drama surrounding luna and celeste mostly. "So.....you and sunny kinda really get along...", the brunette nodded along, she seemed to almost pay attention more when she was occupied then when she wasn't. "Sunny is so nice and fun and she really likes my artwork, we really click! Luna and Celeste don't really talk to me so i like to hang out with her instead! Judas is nice too, and his younger brother....Sunny, me and him play dungeons and dragons all the time when we're bored down there.". "I didn't know you where into geeky stuff like that, that's kinda neat.". She beamed. They finally finished up the card, lexi of course sprinkling it with glitter before declaring it to be perfect, as lexi shoved it into sky's arms, "Let's go get signatures!". Sky was dragged out of the room almost as quickly as she had been dragged into it, galexia excitably approaching every staff member, citizen, and knight they walked past for them to sign. Carrying the card was a little annoying, not because it was heavy, but because sky couldn't see squat and carrying giant floppy paper everywhere risked poking a hole through it or it slipping easily. Lexi really should've gotten stronger paper but eh... Honestly she wasn't sure if the people who signed really wanted to or were either persuaded by how adorable the older girl was, or maybe her intense personality creeped them into it. Sky had no idea since she could barely see anything until eventually she decided maybe it was better to lean the paper against the wall for signatures instead of risking ruining the paper. Though they really couldn't just do a bunch of random people, they needed to find their friends as well. Well, judas was most likely in the underworld still, luna was...somewhere...maybe they were better off looking for celeste first? Or Nora. Maybe nora, celeste resided in the underworld after all. Galexia seemed to have come to the same conclusion and next thing sky knew, she was in the garden, by the rose bushes. Nora was sitting by herself, taking notes on a small school notebook and she looked the happiest they'd ever seen her despite the situation. Less painful schedules, more freedom to move around the castle thanks to the queen, and less badgering from her parents because her folks had the big problem of their terrified kingdom to worry about now. She looked up in glee at the sight of the duo and seemed bemused by sky's situation. "Sky! And....galexia I believe? Sorry, i haven't seen you much since the slumber party....", she got a good look at the card and beamed, "A card? That's very sweet of you...she's going to love it i'm sure..", she fought the need to hide in her hair and tried to look at the dark haired girls in the eyes, though she was cutting in and out rather fast. Galexia immediately handed her a marker and prompted her to sign as sky got a look at what she was writing. "I thought angel made you uncomfortable?". She signed quickly and pressed the notebook to her chest, embarrassed and red-faced, which almost looked odd with her greenish skin. "Oh? Uh....well, spending time in the hospital wing together helped me conquer my fear a little more and uh....well it's good he doesn't hate me or anything....". Sky gave her a look and raised an eyebrow, "Uh well....we've just been talking and....I wanna help...with his mom, please don't be mad i wanna help judas too I-". "What? No, i'm not mad, just surprised, I thought-". "I didn't want to help because i wasn't comfortable? Yeah....It's just....he's gonna lose his mom and even with everything with my parents, almost losing them....it really broke me...I don't think i can...handle....watching him lose her...", she went silent before sighing, "The only problem is, without my book the only way we can try and help are...well...getting my parents involved, and they are so hard to get to think out of their ways....they like monsters...but..they're worried for my safety and they know his kingdom hates ours and they know angel has a history of being a pest...". She mumbled under her breath, "I wasn't even sure about telling you since you and angel....fight...a lot.". Right, Judas had been the one who wanted to try and work things with angel, sky really hadn't until recently and nora had no reason to think they were under better terms. "Well, not anymore, we're actually...getting along? He started to stop being a pain and he kinda broke and....it's a little complicated but we're on sorta better terms. I'm about....25% less mad with him then i used to be....". This seemed to reassure the girl, "Angel doesn't speak much to me, but....he seemed happy when i said i could help...". "do you even know what to do?". "Not entirely...but..it's not magic based it seems so it might be feasible, we can't be sure we'll save her but if anyone can find a way to help, it's us....". Sky wasn't entirely sure about finding a cure for a disease that caused a monster to have a hard time noticing things around them, was mostly paralyzed, and had a hard time eating was really possible but then again she'd seen weirder so might as well be hopeful if possible. Galexia, who had been surprisingly quiet during the whole exchange was now mesmerized by nora's sketches, smiling widely and acting incredibly giddy which was half making nora happy and half making her anxious. "You're so GOOD!". "You think so?". "YESSSSS!". She beamed. "So where is angel anyway? He's not with you, judas...or me....is he with his mom still?". The slimey girl only could shrug, "I'm not sure, he might be....he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself when he's not with his mom...". That was true enough, sky just hoped he was in the bathroom of lounging around the kitchens, she really hoped he wasn't up to something. Or, i guess if she really thought about it, he could be with eclipsa, since those two had been oddly buddy buddy lately. As if on cue, galexia piped in. "We should see eclipsa! She'll sign!". Which was a pretty good idea since her tower was already in the garden, sky got ahold of the card and looked to nora with a sigh, "Good luck ok? I guess if you need help well.....you're surrounded by it now...". Nora nodded happily, "Of course, yeah! I...It's nice being here....even if it's temporary...you're lucky sky, you get to see all these beautiful flowers every day, to go wherever you want...". "Not that lucky....at least it's cool that you have a passion for medicine and it makes you stand out....my passion is mostly...i dunno, making hats?", but nora had to disagree, shaking her hair and playing with her hair, "You stand out to me, your super creative...you like to think outside of the box, judas likes to do things traditional, he's the one who handles things the most logical way, but you're the one to do the most unexpected things to help...". "I dunno...". "He wanted to simply contact me to hang out, you broke into my room to speak to me...". "That's....true.", sky had to admit, she hadn't really considered that very much, even when people told her this kinda stuff, she was the type to break into a girl's room to tell her she wanted to hang out like some sorta rebel. "You kick butt!", she squeaked before closing her mouth as if she said something awful, she blushed and held herself, "I like the hats too...". Sky nodded, keeping the card safe in her arms, "I'll finish your hat real soon ok? I'll see you around nora...". She smiled and sky felt lexi drag her along to approach eclipsa's guarded tower, and after galexia used her puppy dog eyes to convince both guards to sign the girls knocked and made their way up. Angel was nowhere in sight, but Eclipsa certainly was, this time with a little globgor on her shoulder. She froze at the sight of the girls but immediately went all smiles at the card and gave them a smug smile, "If you're looking for him he's on the roof, though i'm not sure this is the prime way to make him feel much better.". Sky grumbled, "Well, i mean, it was technically galexia and sunny's idea and i kinda helped, it was to do something nice...". "I'm sure she'll love it, the art is beautiful!". Galexia stepped forward, jumping up and down and almost immediately going into the detail on it and asking her to sign, globgor jumping off eclipsa's shoulder to make his way to sky and speak to her more quietly and update her on his finds, "The figure, there are rumors of her hanging around the Arachford kingdom, it could be a rather large monster but we are worried about the possibility that it is her....problem is, it could very well be a coincidence...in terms of the silk? No idea where they got the spell back, something like that could only have been kept in-". "The archives..", she finished. It's not like there were many other known places where people kept secret information like that at. Especially not stuff as important as that, she had even heard from her moms that they kept a lot of dangerous and horrible stuff down there that wasn't allowed to be seen by anyone except the most elite of individuals. Then again her moms also said having food that tells you how you'll die was a totally ok thing and not life ruining at all, so whatever. Globgor hadn't really gotten back to her since he told her he'd investigate so at least he was now updating her on the matter after awhile. "Exactly...queen solaria could've kept some there, but that place got destroyed some time ago". "But....it was destroyed...unless...that's why Her was there in the first place....", her heart dropped, "But we can't even be sure of that without more evidence.....but....if it's true....that would mean....". Globgor sighed, You should just keep an eye on that boy...just in case...there's something shady going on behind the scenes over there though whether he's involved directly or not...". He hoped off sky's shoulder as lexi and eclipsa finished speaking. Sky wasn't paying much attention, her focus now being if angel was actually truthful in wanting to stop his antics or if he suddenly learned how to lie really good to her. She didn't notice galexia wave her hands in front of her and the thing that snapped her out of it was a slap to the shoulder. She felt embarrassed but it didn't last long, as her attention was drawn to eclipsa's outfit, something she had been too distracted to notice, she was wearing a black and purple evening gown with long gloves and heels. and of course she had a large hat to match. Her stare caught eclipsa's attention as she prompted globgor to sign the card as well, "It's date night sweetie, we're heading out, you kids are more restricted around this time but we aren't....plus we have a little business outside of the castle anyway tonight...". When she mentioned "Business" sky sure hoped she meant actual important business and not.....ugh. Nope Nope, just let it be about her or meteora or something other then that, please. "oh....well uh...have fun i guess? Uh...you aren't gonna do anything...dangerous are you?", she shifted her eyes which got a laugh out of the couple, globgor becoming slightly bigger and eclipsa taking his arm, "We'll be fine darling, we can handle ourselves just fine...in the meantime...I suggest you make yourself at home, feel free to make some tea if you'd girls like..maybe bring one to the prince on the roof while you're at it. We'll be out for a few hours.", she patted sky on the head as the two started heading out, "See you girls later!". Galexia waved rather rapidly as the door closed behind the couple, leaving just them in the room together with her card as she sat on the couch, "You wanna hand the card over to angel?", she excitably giggled as she relaxed. Sky's face was kinda iffy, angel on this subject was a little unpredictable, he was just a little sensitive to the situation and maybe the card would be a little ignorant to give to him, but on another hand he might appreciate it and the support. "I dunno...maybe we should do him later or something...we still gotta do my moms and who knows when we might get a chance with judas and his brothers...". "OOO, i know! I'll go get sunny and celeste and his bros in the underworld to sign and when i get back, then we can get him to sign!" Sky wasn't even allowed much of a world in before galexia grabbed the card and ran out in a flash. Welp, guess it was decided for her then as she looked up at the roof, groaning before making a pot of tea on the stove soon filling a couple cups and using her batty cloudy to get to the rooftop, angel just sitting there and looking over the hills. He didn't even turn around, he could smell her after all and his pointed ears twitched. "Hello princess butterfly...". He sounded distant, but also somber. "You.....ok?". Maybe that was a bad question to be asking considering his situation, he didn't answer though, still looking out to the horizon as she made her way over. "Hey uh...be careful with this teacup, if you drop it from this height no guarantee i'll be able to save it on time....and uh....i dunno how eclipsa feels about me breaking her stuff...". He carefully took the cup from her and she felt herself start to sweat next to him, unsure of where his motivations truly lied right now. Maybe a month ago she's be like "Yeah, of course he's up to something". But now? She kinda sure hoped he wasn't and there was something here she was missing. Angel wasn't paying much attention to her though, and he still looked a little rough around the edges, he clearly had a hard time sleeping these last few nights and despite the offer to be given his own room he wanted to stay in the wing, which only made it harder to sleep. So his sleep loss was a direct result of his current emotional issues with his mother. Maybe that was why he seemed to look like a mess as well, his clothes more like he had slept in them and his hair more messy then usual. He also looked like he most likely cried and blew his nose into his outfit which prompted sky to scoot a little further away from him as she sipped her tea to herself. "I uh....heard you and nora have been speaking to each other....how did you...i mean, i mean i thought it'd be harder to get you two to really talk...". Angel didn't even turn to face her, mumbling, "We're not friends, she just...offered to help and i didn't turn it down.". Welp, i guess it would be a stretch to assume they were suddenly buddy buddy because nora wanted to help save his mom's life, but it was at least a step in the right direction. Angel and Nora really never talked before now, so this was better then before by far, though this at least made sky tap her fingers and ask a new odd question. "Are we friends?". That came out weirder then it needed to be, probably considering who she was asking it to. Even angel seemed a little taken aback and not sure what to say about it, giving it some thought before trying to come up with an answer, "Well....i suppose so...I think....I'm not sure...". Way to make the situation more painfully awkward then it already was angelus, fantastic. Still, he gave an answer, he didn't stick his nose up at the world and go all "I'm too busy to have friends.". "Well...i guess that's fair, we don't hang out like normal friends, but we still kinda hang out...and talk to each other sorta...", he mumbled and turned his head further, "You and prince lucitor hang out all the time, you are almost always together when you can be and like to speak to each other....". He wasn't wrong but she still tried to ration it out, "Yeah, he's my best friend, kinda grew up together, but i have other friends...even if we don't hang out like me and judas do...mel is in another dimension and we're pen pals, nora's kinda a friend too...". "What are you saying?". "I'm saying friends aren't always like me and judas....we can be friends without all the crazy hanging out and stuff, i mean...if you want i guess...unless you still think it's weird for us to be friends still", angel paused and actually turned to her, "I'm not even sure why you'd want to be friends with me after everything....you've been mad with me for a very long time, you and lucitor both. You feel like you don't even want me around all that much.". "What? No! We're not upset with you...I mean, well, what you did got on our nerves but judas always thought you had good intentions and uh....we can kinda put it behind us if we sorta work things out and make up for them.". The boy didn't entirely seem to be buying it though, his legs hanging off the roof as he avoided eye contact once again, "You make that sound so easy...as if everything is different now or you simply like me now despite everything you felt before....". "Well, i mean...it's not easy per say, it's not like mom sorta bring monsters into the community fixed all the horrible people who now attack me or judas for being different, i think it's just one of those things you have to work towards...i'm sorry if we haven't been trying enough with you....we just have a lot on our plate as well...". He grumbled, and turned his head away completely, "I don't know if we're friends skyler....and I don't know if we should be either....". She was quiet, the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of nature and the sipping of tea, their hair starting to blow in the mild wind. Sky found herself lost in thought, wondering what to say if she should say anything right now, she wasn't amazing with advice or anything so no telling if it'd work. But the boy looked so...upset, and it was hard for her to stay in this miserable silence like this, she shuffled in her seat and tried to spit something out. 'Well, no one's really perfect, we all do kinda dumb things.....but forgiveness and figuring things out is kinda apart of it too...", she thought back to what katrina talked to her about, "I mean, judas and i fight but we still are friends and we forgive and figure it out together...I mean, yeah you screwed up but....that doesn't mean we couldn't be friends i guess....no pressure though, i know it's not something you're used to...but you still can if you want to....you don't gotta be alone...". He was thinking, and they stopped speaking for a minute as sky looked over the beautiful view of the forest and landscape, it was rather peaceful up here, no wonder he went up here. It looked like a good place to clear your mind and she took a deep breath before turning back to the prince, "Mind if i stay here a little while? I kinda need a break as well...". He was silent but he still nodded and the two sat on the roof together and looked over the horizon, lost in thought. - "Dad....look, for one night? Please.....I know you're stressed and grandma and grandpa are sorta flipping out but Bernard's my friend and i just want him to come over for one night. Judas gets to invite sky over all the time...and I know i'm kinda asking a lot from you...but...can it really hurt?", Landon awkwardly stumbled at his father's desk, geez hours of practicing in front of a mirror and this was the best he could do for something like this? He probably looked pathetic, trying to explain his reasoning as to why this place was safe enough to bring his friend over, but he'd be dumber for not trying to give it a shot at least. His mom was on his side mostly but he needed both parents to help approve and his dad could be a bigger challenge sometimes. Landon as per usual, wasn't typically a very good social person, bad with eye contact, bad with figuring out what to say most of the time, and stumbling and his words quieting down more often....this was too important to fail and he still seemed to be struggling. Though Tom didn't seem upset with his attempts, in fact he looked amused and a little impressed, "Oh trust me, you mother talked to me about this beforehand, she knows how much this means to you...rest assured we are looking into it but it's complicated, it's hard enough worrying for you and your brothers and all the citizens who live here....not to mention the girls who now are temporarily staying here, adding another kid on top of that might only make us more anxious about him getting hurt then we already were...". "Yeah but i mean-". "We get it, but it's hard thinking about pleasantries when so much else is going down...we're worried...". "I'll watch him myself....he'll be my responsibility..."., he argued, "I can totally keep an eye on him, he's my friend anyway, he'll stick with me. He's not the type to go wandering around the castle or anything...I promise, I'd just like to have him over for dinner one night...". Tom placed his feet up on the table and thought for a moment, leaving landon more frustrated then he already was. "Me and your mother still are going to have to talk about it i'm afraid....it's something we'll have to plan...and make sure we don't have any further problem...maybe we can convince heka to turn off portaling in out area somehow?". "Can you at least try to do it sooner? "Looking into it" doesn't feel like a total..."yes"", he rambled on, sounding more and more frustrated, "Look, I just don't feel like i can wait on this, bernard's moved like...7 times...SEVEN, what if he moves again and we....he stops wanting to hang out with me...? Because he has more present friends he likes better...?", his voice got sadder and his shoulders sagged at the thought, "I just want a chance..". Tom was about to say more when another knock was heard on the door, judas stepping in shorty after and only making landon more uncomfortable with this situation. Tom looked happy to see his older son, standing up and ushering him over, "Judas! Oh good....I've been wanting to see you...". He stopped, and ushered to his brother, "Well dad, I actually was looking for landon, I heard he was here so....am i interrupting something important? Cause i can wait if you both-". "No no, it's fine, we're about finished anyway....landon, we'll work on it, I promise....we'll let you know as soon as possible....". Landon huffed and stood up, "Fine, i guess i'll be on my way then, i'll see you later judas since you need to talk to dad nor or something..". Judas was about to say something but he left in a huff, tom's hand resting on the boy's shoulder, "It's ok, give him some space....you can talk to him later tonight when he's a little better...". 'What-". "He wanted to invite bernard over...". "Ohh.....lemme guess, it was complicated because of-?" "yeah..". There was silence for a moment before tom turned his attention back to the thing he'd been waiting all day to do. Judas could tell he was antsy, for a moment worried the news was something incredibly horrible until tom's face became softer and a little sadder as a result. The panic judas had reduced as the demon worked himself up to say what he wanted to saw, coughing and calming himself down to keep himself from panicking or backing out. "Judas...I finally am ready....to talk about what happened the night I created you...". The boy froze, his body tensing and a chill running down his spine, though as he looked at his father he softened, Tom looking as though he might cry here and there. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting for so long but I think we gotta talk about it, with everything going on right now and no telling what could happen it's best i probably fess up...shouldn't i?" Judas on instinct rubbed his arm and sighed, maybe he shouldn't have pushed his dad into this, did he even want to know? Of course he did, but would he regret it? "Dad...I-". "No.....I'm going to tell you...I thought about what you said and i'm going to do it.....I've been stalling it for too long at this point and I know you've been wanting answers or at least...me to tell you the whole story about your creation. Jude, I'm sorry i held off talking about it for so long, it's just....it's not an easy thing for me to really talk about...". Jude silenced himself, understanding, guess landon would have to wait till after they got this off their chests. He stepped forward. Then with a snap of his fingers, his bookshelves in the corner parted, an entrance behind them that judas hadn't seen before as his father ushered him to follow. Of course his father had a secret room from his office, why wouldn't he? It was a pretty dark tunnel though, Tom holding a flame in his hand as the bookshelf closed behind them, The underworld was well know to be rather creepy and dark but this was a whole level of unsettling as tom lead him down the corridor and some stairs. "Back when your mom wanted a baby, we....well we were originally going to adopt...we made plans and everything.....only to find out....the underworld wanted us to have a blood-related child to take over the throne....they wanted us...me specifically...to produce a biological heir first...", he sighed as they walked together, judas listening closely, he was well aware of at least knowing his parents were going to adopt first, but not much of the reasons why they didn't. "For people who wanted a biological heir their feelings sure seem mixed how i came out...". "Eh, the demons don't mind as much, i think they're anxious about you doing something so awful it ruins the whole kingdom, but they worried i would do the same thing so it's typical of them....the mewmans and everyone above us are much more anxious, i guess the underworld is more numb to it then they are.".. He patted judas on the back to comfort him, "I'm half mewman, the underworld was just as anxious about me on the throne between my anger issues and if me being part mewman would make me too soft....and i guess they were right in that mindset...i was softer then most other kings...". "Grandpa always said him being king was a pain but you and grandma made it all worth it...", tom smiled, "Yeah, he had it a little rough too, honestly he fought his way to make sure i was born in the first place...between the demons being anxious about it and the fact they didn't know if i'd exist at all....it wasn't easy for him...and your mom, they fought for the adopting thing but unfortunately that was one battle we couldn't win in, not even with your grandparents backing our choice up....". Then he gulped, closing his eyes and stopping in his tracks, "I....I know it's common for the royals to well....find someone else to have a child with if their partner becomes infertile, or are overall just unable to have children with, and yeah...sky managed to be born from butterfly magic but that spell was still a new revelation, tricky to process, and was entirely suited for her species....demons don't entirely work the same way...you make a mewman, you use mewman magic...you make a demon...you need to use demon magic...". "And this is where great grandma Judith came in right? You always said i was named after the woman who created the spell i ended up made from...", Tom had to commend him for remembering so much about his creation throughout the years, even if it were bits and pieces of it. "She was a bit of an eccentric, but she was also at a point of war with a bunch of invaders and as a result she would come up with new ways to help the kingdom improve for the sake of protection. She.....ended up helping..". "Well....yeah....I refused to be with anyone but your mother...some royals were comfortable with it, i just wasn't one of them...so i did some looking of my own...relicor helped though honestly he was a little grumpy i choose not to mate with someone else but....whatever. So i did a little digging and it turns out our great grandmother Judith had a buried spell down there....though....there was good reason they buried it down there apparently....since...it was used...for armies...", he kept walking with judas following close behind and the boy could tell his father was getting sadder. "She had created the spell to create soldiers, to help fight our battles and protect our land without risking the lives of our actual citizens....the spell however, was imperfect as all the demon soldiers knew was war and were too dangerous to keep around when they went rouge...though in retrospect, taking jobs away from our people and possibly leading to overpopulation with creatures who seemed to have no humanity was most likely a really bad idea...", he paused as he came to a door, "But...it was the only spell i had to work with in your creation...". "You couldn't create your own?". "I tried, but i'm not very good at creating my own spells as much as learning them...so i decided, maybe there was a chance i could take this mess of a spell and change it, modify it into maybe making well...a baby, into you.". Tom leaned his head against the door now, his hand running down it softly, "I planned it so well, i got help from the queen of mewni, from family members, from any magic professional i could and overall it was so much better then i could've expected...i could make a real child, create life from magic...". He was crying, turning to look at judas, "I wanted to surprise marco with you...you were so perfect when you came out, just the most beautiful thing i had ever seen in my life...". The man was smiling through his tears and he tried to wiped them away, smearing his usual fancy eyeliner as he tried to compose himself and get through the hardest part, "But i...I still managed to screw up a few details, it...it didn't matter much at first of course, i mean, different type of horn? That's fine, i have older family members with those, perhaps your looks and colors leaning too much one way or another? Who cares...you were amazing regardless of that to me...but....then I found out when i did the spell...something came along with it...". "The monster arm...". "Yeah...". There was silence. "I could've stopped it if i had tried harder, if i had worked out the kinks, or just gave it and had a child with someone else like they all wanted me too...I just....i really wanted to make marco happy and wanted to do this and...I ended up hurting you...And i can't take it back either...". He shook his head, "It was a nightmare worrying about you, you were one of the most important things i ever had and i was the one that had also ruined your future and make people afraid of you..". Judas was silent, still trying to process everything currently being explained and trying not to ball up into tears despite his eyes and emotions fighting him on that front. "I was so worried if i told you...you'd hate me...you'd....you'd never forgive me for the pain your went through....they lacked up your arm, they wanted to cut it off, my own parents keep trying to help only reminding me i failed...and...It just is something i haven't been able to shake off for years....", he sniffled, holding onto the door handle, "With your brothers i made sure there was no chance of it happening again but for awhile i was afraid to even do it again, your mother was the one who helped me through it....but...there was nothing we could do for you...". "Dad.." "Your brothers and you are so used to you looking up to us, for advice, for encouragement....you always know how much we kick butt and protect you and what were you going to say when you found out your father, the person who is determined to protect you....also gave you something that has terrified you your entire life...". He opened the door to show his private study, it looked much like a dungeon and was full of forbidden books scattered around. The place was practically like a witch's home, with cauldrons, and potion materials scattered around, his father was an everyday mad magical scientist apparently. "Wow...". "You were born...er....made here....". "You haven't been down here since mason was made...have you?". "No....I haven't....and hopefully that trip was the last time anyone was down here as well..."., The torches of the dark room suddenly all lit up, giving judas a better view of the place as he took a look around, the place was dusty alright, hadn't been touched in forever. Considering mason was 13, this place had enough time to collect more then enough dust and judas sneezed a couple times wandering around it, his father walking behind him slowly. Judas stopped in front of a particularly old cauldron and placed his hand on it, "You made me here....right? It feels familiar....". Tom nodded and leaned against a pillar nearby, watching the flames around him flicker and his ears twitching at small noises of rats scurrying around the mostly silent room. "Yeah....it was used....pretty old pot honestly....but i guess i'm a little soft for it since it helped me bring you boys into this world despite it's age...". Judas ran his hand across it, dust coating his hand as he looked over it, "Y'know, despite knowing that I was made...it can still be hard to process it....seeing this though...it does help....". The king understood, crossing his arms and trying to compose himself better as he dried his tears, "Y-you're taking this better then i thought you would....I....I was expecting the worst...". The boy turned around and looked at his father, brows furrowed, "What did you think would happen....?". "That you wouldn't forgive me for your curse...I know i haven't, even your mom who blamed themselves because they had no idea that maybe the curse was still lingering inside of them but i couldn't blame them for that, even star tried to take blame for giving that curse to marco in the first place and her being the reason it even existed but it's no one's fault but mine...that arm thing happened so long ago and i should've been the one to prevent it happening to you...", he had stopped crying though the sadness still lingered as he stepped away to look at his dusty old papers scrawled on some of his work desks, all the stuff he did in planning the spell. "I spent so long trying to get it to work, i created rats as prototypes and they worked out fine but i should've tested more...i got too eager to have kids and surprise marco and it's been haunting me for too long....look i just....i knew the arm situation hurt you so much and it lead to so many problems so i just....I got worried telling you it was my fault would.....make you and your brothers hate me...", he leaned against the dusty desk now, looking over his old scrawl and failed notes as judas came up next to him. "I...I'm not good with....hurting people, especially not people I care about...I-I knew i had to tell you someday....but....I wasn't sure when...". "I don't hate you...", judas started, only to be quickly interrupted. "But you are mad with me....you don't have to lie to protect my feelings, i know you are...i would be too in your shoes....you're a nice boy judas but i know you're not truly forgiving of my mistake, it's hard to forgive someone who gave you something like that....", he sighed and leaned on the desk next to his dad, "Grandpa thinks you and mom have given up trying to help me....I guess another reason you didn't want to do much else was-". "We didn't want to hurt you any further? Yeah...". "Do you think i can be cured?", it was probably a wasted question, and he wasn't sure his father would have a real answer for him, but it was better then nothing right now. "I don't know....we tried a lot of different ideas but to no avail...", his eyes closed as he listed off whatever he could, "We tried the spell, we've tried healing potions, we've even been crazy enough to take you to the magic dimension, hoping it'd cure you like it does for most corrupt magic...but i guess it being fused into your dna makes it a whole different case, it's not a separate entity to this stuff so it doesn't see it as something to cure like other cases...". Silence once again, though at this point it became expected during a serious conversation like this, trying to talk about it was hard enough as is, especially since it took them so long to go into it before now. The demons looked between each other, nothing but silence in a dusty old room as the pair were lost in thought. Tom seemed to be hate being here, the lingering emotions still fresh on him as he pressed his head against the desk in shame. But then he felt a hand on his shoulder, judas was starting to smile, it wasn't an entirely happy smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Thanks for taking me here and telling me...I really do appreciate you letting me know...". He took another look around the room and stood up fully, "Y'know....maybe we should clean this place up...get all your notes together, dust it, put it back in working condition....you've put it the dust for so long and I get why but...maybe the place just needs a change for the better, it's where me, landon and mason were made after all....and...I think we should well...stop trying to hide it and bury it forever? It's not all bad if it gave you us is it?". Tom snorted, "No....nothing can be that bad if it gave us you.....". Tom reached over and kissed his son's forehead, and pulled him into a hug, "I'm sorry beyond belief, and i don't think i'll truly get over it.....but...maybe you're right...it's like the times i kept repressing my anger and even marco hated when i did that, said it wasn't healthy for me....or my anger management...". He happily tussled's judas hair, making him laugh naturally and tom smile, "I'm glad we talked about this though....It's....almost like a relief...". He straightened himself and took a deep breath, "I'll send someone to...actually i'll take the research papers myself and lock them away somewhere safe....but i will get some people to help clean tomorrow and perhaps we can turn this space into well....maybe a place for me to actually work on spells again.....if I can get myself back into it...". Judas seemed to like that idea, "We can help if you'd like, maybe it could get our family to do something together for a bit...". Speaking of which. "I suppose we better head up...landon's been wanting to speak with me and-". Tom sighed, "Oh yeah, we better take care of that....", he sounded a little dismal to have to stop talking to his son but he couldn't keep him here forever, they'd have to talk about this more in detail, some other time it seemed. The two started heading back up, tom shutting the door behind him and following his son back up, "I'm just glad now we don't have anymore secrets between us, maybe we'll be able to move past this and maybe truly help find a cure..". "Yeah...", judas mumbled, shoulders sagging, his smile fading away as he felt guilt now well up inside of him. He knew why they couldn't tell their parents, but not his father had poured his heart out to him and he had to go back to doing stuff behind his back, not to mention the research he'd need for nora. He could feel his father patting his back on the way up, feeling a lot better and admiring his son as the relief of judas not being extremely mad at him softened, the boy hiding his fast behind his hood and closing his eyes. "No more secrets...".

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #svstfoe #sky and the forces of the multiverse #eclipsa butterfly #globgor #janstar bby #tomco bby #jackie lynn thomas #spiderslime #tom the demon #tom lucitor #my art #fanfic #kelly

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