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moonbeamsung · 3 years

Text

You’re Just a Boy in a Blueberry Field

No fruit is sweeter than a summer love.

member: haechan

au: blueberry farmer!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 5.0k

genre: fluff, very light angst

warnings: mentions of food

author’s note: It’s here! I actually wrote most of this last summer, but only recently did I find the time to edit and get it ready to be posted. I added some parts and changed a few things, and now I like it quite a lot, so I hope you do as well! Thank you @astroboy-lele for beta-reading :) As always I would love to hear any feedback on this, and I hope that you enjoy the fic!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @leejunini @chicksung @mrkcore @radiorenjun @moon-jun @jisungiest @stayctday @byutafy @jujubean23 @treasurehobi @bluejaem @lyshoonn @vera-liscious @allegxdly @cupfullofjeno @thats-a-jen-no-no @yo-ddream

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet

Thank you lovely Ana @rvse-hvvck for this additional header!

Donghyuck knows everything there is to know about those blueberries.

Without even pausing for the briefest of moments to think, to instinctively recall the information instilled in him throughout his childhood spent on the farm, he can answer any question that’s thrown at him. He can point out just the right color of berry to pick so that they’ll be ripe when you eat them later. Likewise, he can also tell you which ones are best to eat now, as you pick them, pretending not to notice when you pop one or two into your mouth and grinning when your eyes light up from the sweetness.

A day comes where he, filled with mischief as usual, places a not-so-ripe blueberry into your hand, and you, being so wrapped up in the peacefulness of the morning that surrounds you, fail to notice its red color and don’t think twice about lifting it to your lips, biting into it with your teeth. When the tart taste meets your tongue, your face contorts into an expression that elicits a raucous fit of laughter from him. You’re the first one in the fields that day. When the sun had risen on the horizon, the fleeting touch of color in the sky that dawn left behind still lingering above, he had been there, sitting on the front porch as always to greet customers.

Donghyuck knows every bug that loves to rest on the branches of the blueberry bushes. After spending so much time next to you as you scan them for the pops of vivid blues and purples that are hidden behind jade green leaves, he begins to learn that you are not fond of any bug, no matter how harmless. It’s cute, he thinks, how you inspect every berry that you drop into your basket, fearing that some small creature is lurking on it. If you do find something, he hears a small noise of both surprise and disgust before you fling the perfectly good berry away from you. It also hurts a little, knowing that it’s one less for you to take home.

When more people arrive at the farm after you, he’s forced to leave your side and get them started on their own search for the delicious fruit that’s nestled among the branches of nearly every bush. And if they ask where the best ones are, he specifically points them in the direction of the fields where you aren’t. It isn’t a lie, really, because they’ve had a good harvest everywhere this year.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little selfish on his part, but who can blame him for wanting you to have some of the most plentiful bushes all to yourself?

Wednesdays are his favorite because it’s always the least crowded of all the mornings they’re open for business, and he can spend more time following you as you make your way down the rows, admiring the focus on your face and the way that you sometimes pause mid-reach, closing your eyes and standing still as the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its warm glow down onto the farm. A gentle sigh tumbles from your lips, darkened by the violet nectar that remains from the countless blueberries that have crossed their usually pink-tinted threshold. You resume your search after a few seconds, catching his eye and returning a smile he didn’t even know was there.

He makes the berries taste a little sweeter when he’s next to you. The purple juice that stains your fingers is a little darker. The sun feels brighter and warmer than ever, its heat shining down onto your skin.

One particular morning, after you finish picking all the blueberries you can carry, you decide to accompany Donghyuck on the porch, sitting beside each other in matching rocking chairs that first belonged to his great-grandparents, the farm’s founders. The familiar sounds of birds chirping and the low mumbling amongst customers meet your ears. You both gaze fondly at the horizon while immersed in casual chatter, all the while tending to several families as they come and go.

Whenever a car turns off of the two-lane, paved road and onto the noisy gravel path leading into a small grassy area that functions as a parking lot, Donghyuck excuses himself from the lively conversation both of you always find yourselves sharing. He stands, brushing his hands off on his faded denim overalls that are only slightly too large for his frame. His hand lifts up the baseball cap he always wears while the other runs through his hair, and your gaze falls on the back of his neck where it rests in longer strands. You always wonder why he keeps it like that since he complains about how hot it makes him feel. The humid summer air is stifling enough as it is, after all. The thought vanishes only moments after it arrives, though, and he flashes a brilliant grin at you over his shoulder as he descends the wooden stairs leading down to the patio.

Today, a happy looking family gets out of a shiny silver minivan. The mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl, make their way toward the covered patio and Donghyuck bounds down the steps like always, grabbing 4 stacked pails in his calloused hands. You lean forward a little in the creaky old rocking chair, your weight in your toes, ears just barely picking up his conversation with them. He greets the parents warmly, shaking their hands and then he kneels down to be eye-level with the small children. The little boy seems shy as he clasps his fingers in front of him, thumbs twiddling back and forth, while his sister is clearly the opposite. She skips over to the much taller boy, saying hello.

“Do you two like blueberries?” He asks them, one arm resting on his knee and the other extending a pail out in front of him. The young girl nods enthusiastically before she takes the container from his hand and turns around, passing it to her brother as he nods, making eye contact with Donghyuck for the first time. A small smile grows on his face when he’s met with the wider one of the unfamiliar but still welcoming stranger. His sister speaks up again, “Every Friday we get to help Mom make her famous blueberry pie!”

“Is that right?”

“Yep! In the morning we always go to the supermarket and get fresh blueberries,” she explains. Her mother leans down, softly telling her that this week they’re here to pick blueberries instead, fresh from the farm they were grown on.

“Really? So that means we’re not buying them at the store anymore?”

“Well, honey, today we can pick enough blueberries to last us for a whole month’s worth of blueberry pies.”

“And besides,” Donghyuck starts, still kneeling on the ground next to her, his boot leaving an imprint in the dirt underneath it, “it’ll taste even better since you picked them yourselves, don’t you think?” The boy punctuates his question with a wink.

The young boy steps up for the first time, grin stretching even wider as he finds the courage to happily agree with the wise words. Exclaiming eagerly and in a way that only a child can, he takes his sister by the hand that’s not holding his small bucket before scurrying off, their parents close behind after grabbing pails for each other as well as a third that their daughter had forgotten in the midst of the excitement.

As Donghyuck joins you on the porch once again, you can’t help but smile as you remember how he interacts with each and every customer that passes through the weathered fence surrounding the property. When he talks to kids in particular, his eyes seem to light up, and you see just how much of a kid he still is deep down. His playfulness never fails to make an appearance whenever you spend time with him.

You’re thankful for the moo of a cow in the distance that interrupts his question of why you’re smiling like an idiot and hopefully drowns out the steady sound of your pounding heart.

The next week he tells you that the rest of his family is out of town, and he’s been left with the responsibility of running the farm all on his own. He usually does most of the work himself these days anyway since he’s getting older and more mature, although some of his jokes say otherwise. You miss the way his mom would poke her head out of the upstairs window of the main house, calling out a greeting to you both from across the property, overjoyed at the sight of her son spending time with the particular customer he’s mentioned so many times before. Whether he would share an amusing anecdote of yours with his siblings at the dinner table or point out something that reminded him of you, it was far too easy for her to figure out how he feels about you.

In an effort to spend more time with him, keep him company and just help out in general, you offer to stay at the house with him for a little while. Or at least until his family gets back from their trip, and to your delight, he agrees. You arrive in the late evening, on a day when the fields are closed, just in time to catch the setting sun as it disappears behind the trees and power lines that seem to stretch for miles in the distance. Tugging an overnight bag of belongings with you, you knock twice on the wood of his front door.

It opens swiftly and Donghyuck welcomes you inside, wearing an apron that he must have outgrown 10 years ago, at least. You snicker at the snug choice of attire and he shoves your shoulder, though not with enough force to make you stumble. He whines a little in that saccharine-sweet voice of his that makes your heart clench, but you don’t give in. Not this time.

When the farm is closed for the day, the family has a chance to pick from some of the bushes that are planted in a more secluded area, all to ensure that they also have a big enough supply of the fruit to last them for the season. So Donghyuck had woken up at the crack of dawn, although you aren’t sure why. He had made his way downstairs and out into the dewy air of the morning, gathering just enough blueberries to bake a cobbler that night when you came over, since he’d learned it was your favorite treat after hours of conversation about anything and everything. The recipe comes straight from his great-grandfather, he informs you, and it’s written on a yellowing piece of paper in handwriting that you couldn’t read even if you tried. He, however, can somehow decode the seemingly nonsensical swirls and lines on the page. You suppose it’s part of the magic of the family recipe that gets passed down with it.

Donning an apron yourself, you join him at the sink as you begin washing the berries, gently grabbing a handful at a time as you let the tap water clean them. When you both reach into the large container at the same time, your hands brush and you almost scoff at the swell of your heart that you feel inside your chest.

As you’re working together to make the batter that you will soon pour into his mother’s finest glass baking pan, Donghyuck briskly swipes his fingertip on the side of the bowl where the mixer had splattered the combined ingredients, extending it in your direction. You raise an eyebrow at the boy and said fingertip before turning your head away.

“If you really think that I would lick that off your finger, then you’re terribly mistaken.”

Coyly, the mischief-maker in question retorts back as you glance at his impishly delighted expression. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you state rather firmly, but matching the mirth in his eyes with a glimmer of amusement in your own. “I’ll settle for the spatula, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, your answer completely expected. At least he tried.

You won’t deny that you enjoy sampling a bit of the batter of a dessert as much as anyone. But not that much.

Left with no choice, he takes himself up on his own offer and sticks his finger into his mouth with an audible ‘pop,’ exaggerating the action just to get a rise out of you, feeling the upward curl of his lips when you react ever so slightly with a silent chuckle.

You’re adding the last bit of flour to the mixture when you accidentally get some of the powdery substance on your hand in the process. Turning the automatic mixer off, you momentarily forget about your stained skin and you make the mistake of wiping your face with the back of your wrist, smearing the white stuff on your cheek. Donghyuck notices, of course, and an innocent attempt to help clean up the mess only ends with the two of you blushing like crazy.

“Let me help you,” he speaks up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the pan’s not that heavy, and even if it was, I’m strong enough anyway—”

You’re about to pick up the glassware but his sudden strides over to you from across the large kitchen cause everything you were saying, doing, and thinking to come to a complete stop. You’ve never really had a problem with personal space before, but right now he’s leaning down and his face is so close that you’re afraid to even breathe for fear that the action might just throw you off balance and towards him. For fear that you might not push his chest away with your hands if that happens.

He’s bending his knees to match your eye level and his hand lifts from its place at his side, hovering in midair not far from where the flour still lingers on your skin. His eyes had been so focused on the stain but the shrinking proximity between you and him pulls his gaze from your cheek to your eyes, blown wide and confused because you still have no idea that there’s something on your face.

The undoubtedly palpable tension in the room almost reaches down his throat and pulls the words from his vocal chords in an effort to dispel the heavy air circulating around the both of you.

“There’s… uh… you have flour…”

Donghyuck still hasn’t broken the less than comfortable eye contact, but he’s unable to look away for reasons unknown to him. After an agonizing amount of seconds your brain switches on again, albeit slowly, and you’re able to properly process the position you’re currently in. Your own hand starts to lift and though the movement is slight, it’s enough to draw his eyes down to it and he finds the strength to complete his goal at last.

His thumb swipes across your cheek and without even thinking he pops it into his mouth once again, forgetting about the unpleasant taste of flour. The way that the boy’s face scrunches up when the bitter powder meets his tongue doesn’t eliminate the awkwardness completely, but it’s a start. You hastily make an effort to avert your gaze as you frantically wonder if he caught your face that’s surely as warm as a blazing fireplace, all because he did the unthinkable with that stupid finger of his.

You won’t let yourself dwell on how his hand is just the right size to cradle the side of your head, or how much nicer his lips look up close, or how they must taste like the blueberries that he snuck into his mouth as you made the cobbler, or how you wished he had used his lips on your cheek instead of his thumb.

How you wish he had closed the almost nonexistent distance between your flushed faces.

These thoughts do nothing to ease the steadily growing heat that’s currently taking over your skin. Your eyes land on the glass pan and you take the opportunity to grab it, acting as a sort of distraction for your mind and also as something to snap you both out of your embarrassed hazes.

You get the finished dessert into the oven with no trouble after that, and now you have a little over half an hour of time to kill before it’s ready, so Donghyuck leads you into the nicely furnished family room and plops down onto the plush couch. When you don’t immediately follow he glances up at you, sensing that you’re still hesitant after the awkward moment. He smiles softly and almost apologetically, as if he’s sending a silent signal that you’ll both move past it soon enough, an invitation to put the incident behind the two of you. And you accept it.

You take a deep breath before you sit down next to him, sinking into the cushions underneath and behind you. The material dips slightly under the weight of both your bodies and gravity itself seems to be in control as it pushes you together, shoulders bumping and the sides of your legs being pressed up against each other. Thankfully, the television roars to life with the laughter of a live audience on one of your favorite shows, and you exhale a puff of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. With every scene that lights up the large display, you curl up further and further into his side, his arm migrating across the back of the sofa and winding around your shoulder only a few centimeters at a time.

This feels like home. Donghyuck feels like home.

The buzzer of the oven interrupts when you’re halfway through another episode, prompting you to jump to your feet just as abruptly as the alarm-like noise had started blaring. Consequently his arm flops down by his side as he mentally curses the loud intrusion into what had become a comfortable atmosphere, an atmosphere that was finally surrounding you again after what felt like an eternity but had really only been an hour.

In no time, you’re returning from the kitchen, the warm blueberry contents of the cobbler oozing out onto the flowery pair of plates you had grabbed from the cupboard. Handing one to him and setting the other aside for yourself, you quickly go back around the corner to grab two tall cups of cold milk. Your second time joining him on the couch comes more easily, almost all of the earlier tension having dispersed into the room, wafting out the windows along with the delicious scent of the fruit baked into the sweet, flaky crust. In fact, you’re fairly sure that it’s strong enough for even his neighbors down the road to smell. Which reminds you: you need to package some up to deliver to them tomorrow, per Donghyuck’s suggestion.

You’re most definitely sure that he smells the aroma, of course, because it’s hard to ignore the eagerness with which he takes a large bite of the dessert. “We make better bakers that I thought we would,” the boy comments, taking a sip of milk. The white mustache that it creates above his top lip when he lifts the glass to his mouth is enough to make you giggle, and you’re unaware that this predictable reaction was his objective all along. He grins, rather satisfied.

With your stomach now full, a head-plaguing drowsiness begins to set in. It slowly fills your senses enough for you to drift off, fork nearly falling out of your hand and onto the floor before he catches it, along with your weight when you slump down against his shoulder. Donghyuck is barely able to reach one of the end tables, and he sets the dishes and silverware down next to the now empty cups. Your body unconsciously clings to his like a koala to a branch, with both hands clutching one of his arms and a leg hooked over his thighs.

He takes one look at you and wishes he could pause time, to stay here forever. It’s not every day that he meets someone who can easily match the amount of snark he possesses. Simultaneously, you also balance out the friendship you share with your compassion and sense of wonder about the world, always evident in your morning routine when you come to the fields. Donghyuck has noticed that you bring out those same qualities in him, perhaps more than anyone else ever has. And just like you’re holding him right now, he vows to hold on to you.

As much as he doesn’t want to get up and for the evening to progress, he knows he should, that it has to. So he manages to detach from the hold of your limbs, gently pushing himself up and off of the couch so he doesn’t disturb you.

Glancing at the large antique clock above the doorway that leads out into the hall, Donghyuck realizes it’s much later than he thought. He decides to turn in for the night, but on a regular day he usually finds himself still awake well past midnight, despite the need to wake up early the next morning and run the farm from the crack of dawn.

Since you’re tired and he doesn’t want to risk you waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and place, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll join you. Only leaving your side for a moment, he puts the cobbler into the refrigerator and turns off the kitchen lights behind him as he goes. Softly padding halfway up the stairwell, Donghyuck makes sure there’s enough light for him to see where he’s going before making his way back into the living room one last time. He tucks one arm underneath both of your bent knees as tenderly as he can, and places the other behind the middle of your back, hand gently curling against your waist. He carries you with probably the most delicacy he’s shown in his entire life.

Going upstairs is generally an easy task, but doing so while carrying another person is a different story. He would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you in any way. If even your foot happened to bump the wall next to you, a burst of frustration at himself and his own carelessness would surface regardless of the impact’s intensity

Your position in his arms gives him yet another opportunity to gaze upon your peaceful expression, and he begins to think more deeply about what you are to him. Looking forward to your visits makes his work so much more enjoyable and worth it. You’re someone who truly appreciates what he and his family do for a living and you faithfully support them with your business as a customer whenever you can, which is a rare thing to find in most people that come. Most are just bored and in need of something to occupy themselves or their kids. Sometimes they don’t even pick that many berries. But you always make sure to bring your own basket, which holds just as many as if not more than the ones the farm provides, and fill it to the brim. In his eyes, you’re special.

Amidst the mostly-asleep state that you’re in, your eyes just barely open far enough to see a blurry picture of Donghyuck’s face as he carries you through the house and up into the bedroom he had suggested you share. He sets you down onto the soft mattress before pulling the covers up to your stomach, retreating into the attached bathroom to quickly change into a thin t-shirt and his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants.

The memory of that conversation floods back to you. Initially, you refused the offer, saying that he would rest better if he had more space to move around. But being the clingy person he is, he had pouted desperately as you struggled to stand your ground in the discussion. “Fine,” you had huffed, only half-frustrated with those doe eyes he always uses to get his way, and your lips had great difficulty holding back a smile.

The hum of electricity that can be heard emanating from the next room snaps you out of these thoughts, and is enough to wake you up a bit more. Your gaze scans the surroundings for a minute or two before he opens the door again, his eyes now looking as heavy as your own.

Donghyuck joins you under the blanket and shifts to lay on his side, facing you. It’s funny that you’re both able to adjust to a situation so intimate and new almost instantly. Still on your back, your head turns and you’re conscious enough to raise an eyebrow at the boy. There’s that pout again.

“Please?” He mumbles, his bottom lip jutting out in an action he’s perfected. You know exactly what he’s after: cuddles.

You don’t even try to hide the playful roll of your eyes as you scoot a little closer, but it’s not close enough for him. He gets impatient, meeting you halfway, and this time it’s him that flings a leg over yours. An endearing, small noise of contentment from him fills your ears as you take notice of his arms, now interlocked behind your neck and around your shoulders. You melt into the snug position, a hand landing on his forearm that’s laying across your chest. Turning ever so slightly to the side, your other hand winds around his middle and eventually rests just above his hip, pulling him into you even more. Donghyuck nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, a few strands of your hair tickling his skin as he sighs in complete and utter bliss.

Determined to savor the moment until the irresistible inevitability of slumber starts to overtake you once more, you fight to stay awake with all of your might. But in what you thought was only the blink of an eye, the glittering stars visible through the bay window’s sheer drapes morph into the pale golden rays of first light. There’s a soft murmur of your name along with an unintentional, almost imperceptible peck to the place where his lips meet your skin, and you’re wide awake. Not to mention a little shocked.

He’s utterly unfazed, though, slowly waking up now that the sun has gotten brighter, its beams filtering into the room and hitting his already glowing face that becomes a gorgeous honey-colored hue.

Donghyuck reluctantly withdraws his arms from your form after one last embrace, effortlessly rising from the wrinkled bed sheets and offering his hand to you when you start to do the same. A sleepy smile makes a home on his features and he reminds you of your task to deliver a portion of the dessert you made to his next-door neighbors.

That’s exactly what you do, first making yourselves presentable in the bathroom by smoothing down wild bed hair and freshening up your faces with cool water. Being around to see each other’s natural morning states is a major act of trust, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at you for it.

“How long does it normally take for you to do your hair every day before you come here?” His tone is dripping with feigned innocence, but the sly grin on his lips says otherwise.

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

Tupperware container in hand, your shoes step in rhythm with his as you amble along the grassy shoulder of the street together. Somehow you end up hand-in-hand by the time you reach his neighbors’ front patio.

“Donghyuck!” The elderly woman at the door greets him with a twinkling voice, her husband coming into view soon after. “Look who it is, honey,” she motions fondly to the boy who they both once knew to be much shorter and younger, but now is all grown up before their eyes. “You’re getting so tall. It seems like only yesterday you were scurrying through the blueberry fields and waving to us through the gaps in the fence.”

“Yes ma’am, it does,” he responds politely. The couple has been living there for as far back as he can remember, and quite honestly they feel as if they’ve become part of his family, too.

Her warm brown eyes light up. “Is this the customer your mother was telling me about last week? She mentioned how close you’ve become, and now I’m finally seeing it for myself. You make a lovely pair.”

“Oh—” Donghyuck startles. Not much can get him flustered, but he hadn’t exactly been anticipating for his mom to recount all the things he’s said about you to the sweetest and most innocent of elderly couples. Of course they would assume that there’s something going on.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, with you. He wouldn’t mind at all, really. He’ll just need to have a word about a little thing called privacy with his mother later.

You see the glint of panic in his eyes and speak up. It’s not often he makes such an easy target for teasing. “Thank you,” you state graciously, the smugness in the statement only noticeable to him. “We’re very happy together.” He feels you lean into him, fingers unwrapping from his and gripping the other side of his waist. You know exactly what you’re doing, and so does he.

Almost forgetting to hand over the slices of cobbler you’d cut earlier, Donghyuck nudges you to do so, and the four of you exchange thanks and farewells before you’re on your way back to the farm.

“Happy together, huh?”

“Shut up, Hyuck.” You mumble something else afterwards that he doesn’t quite catch.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” he sings, stopping in his tracks. You do the same. “Shut up and what?”

“...And kiss me.”

After many days and many nights spent wondering, you can confirm that his lips do, indeed, taste as sweet as the blueberries in those fields.

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dork-empress · 3 years

Text

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3

Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.

Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.

Flock of Robins

Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???

Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.

Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that

Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.

Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.

Dickbutt:.....

Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME

Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest

Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?

Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?

Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!

Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE

Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND

Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho

DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!

DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up

DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all

Jason: That was last week at dinner.

Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?

Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.

Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF

DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.

Jason: He put you on the Titans.

DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd

DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man

Jason: With proper punctuation?

Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??

Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going

Jason: QUINN?!?!?!

Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????

DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago

Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are

Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?

Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY

Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway

DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he

Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.

Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins

Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?

Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages

Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!

Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you

Jason: …….

Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I

Jason: @DamianWayne

Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Damian: You’re dead Drake

DatAssTho: RIP

Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered

Jason: Prick.

“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.

Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.

“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.

“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”

Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”

“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”

“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.

He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.

Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.

Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.

And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.

Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.

Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…

Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.

They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”

Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”

“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”

Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”

“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”

“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”

Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”

Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.

Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.

Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.

But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.

Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.

“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”

Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”

Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”

Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”

Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”

Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”

With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.

Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”

“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”

“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.

“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”

Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”

“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”

That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.

“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”

Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”

Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”

Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”

Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.

Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”

Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”

Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.

Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.

Lucy went back to watching people below her.

“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”

Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”

Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.

Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”

There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”

Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.

Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”

Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”

“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.

Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.

Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.

“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”

Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”

“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”

Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”

“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.

“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”

“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.

“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”

“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.

Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”

Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”

“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”

Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.

#lucy quinzel #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jon kent #DC comics fanfic #dc comics fanfiction

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selene-tempest · 3 years

Text

Mud bath.

"Erm..." Selene blinked, not really knowing what to say.

"I know."

"It's just that..."

"I said I know!"

"There's just so much..."

"I get it!"

"That's gonna take some scrubbing."

"I'm aware of that fact," Kayo's curt reply held a definite tone of warning.

Selene couldn't blame her, not really. She was covered from head to toe in mud, the dirt clinging to her skin, soaked into her hair and Selene was pretty sure she'd heard the sound of squelching whenever the other woman moved.

"Do you need any he-"

"I've got it, thanks." Kayo turned her back, walking stiffly from the hangar to the adjoined showers, knowing that Grandma would pitch a fit if any of them traipsed mud up to the main house.

Dismissed, Selene gave up the battle, knowing that Kayo, more than anyone, had moments where she just wanted to be left alone.

-x-

"Anyone seen Kay?" Virgil asked later that night when they were all in the lounge, spread out across the sofas in what Jeff called Sloth mode. Nothing was moving them short of an emergency call, which they all desperately hoped wouldn't happen.

"Not since we got back," Gordon answered. "She said she was pretty tired, maybe she went straight to bed?"

"Without eating?" Selene's inbuilt need to care for those around her pinged into life.

"I'm sure she'll get something if she's hungry," Gordon shrugged, not taking his eyes off the show on the holoscreen.

"Don't be mean," Selene swiped at his shoulder. "How would you like it if you got back and no one fed you?"

"It happens all the time," he protested.

"Not while I'm here," she said firmly. "I'm going to go and check on her."

"Your funeral."

It took her very little time to rustle up some left over mac and cheese and she took it, along with a glass of milk, up to Kayo's room.

She knocked on the door but got no answer.

"Come on, open up, I've brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry," floated through the door.

"Don't give me that shit, you haven't eaten since breakfast."

Nothing.

"It's mac and cheese," she wheedled.

Selene heard a sigh of defeat, followed by shuffling footsteps coming closer to the door.

"I'm warning you now," Kayo said through gritted teeth, "you'd better not laugh."

Selene frowned. What was there to laugh about?

"Promise me."

"Erm... OK, I promise not to laugh."

The door opened slowly, just enough for Selene to squeeze through, slamming shut behind her the moment she was inside the room.

"Where shall I put this..." Selene trailed off, catching sight of Kayo for the first time. "Oh lawd."

"Don't. Laugh."

"I wasn't going to!" Selene slid the tray of food onto the bedside table and turned to get a closer look.

"Yeah, right. I know how it looks, I've looked in the mirror."

"I honestly wasn't going to," Selene assured her. And she hadn't been. Her poor friend didn't need teasing, she needed help. Badly.

Her hair, that beautiful, thick, naturally shiny hair that Selene secretly lusted after but couldn't get without a mountain of products, looked like shit. There, she said it, even if it was just in her own head. It was fluffed up beyond all recognition, a mass of tangles and frizz the likes of which Selene had never seen.

"I'm sorry, I gotta ask..."

Kayo folded her arms, tapping her foot, daring Selene to say something shitty.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know," Kayo huffed. "I know my ponytail got loose from my helmet, that's never good because it gets all tangled then. Then the band snapped and it was a lost cause."

Selene nodded, she'd had a similar experience with her hair coming out of the back of her jacket while riding on the back of her Dad's motorbike and it had taken her and her mum the best part of an evening and two washes to get it untangled again.

"I've washed it three times, blow dried it and broken a brush on it but it's just made it worse."

"What type of conditioner did you use?"

"The one I always do, the one in the locker room and then mine up here. That one that Grandma buys in bulk."

Selene's eyes widened in horror as her friend described the torment she had just admitted to putting her hair through.

"Generic conditioner? You used generic conditioner? The same shit that Alan uses? That conditioner? And then you tried to brush it out?"

Kayo shrugged.

"What are you, a savage?"

"What else would I do to get tangles out?"

"Oh my gods," Selene clasped her hands over her heart and swayed dramatically. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. How? How could you think that would be OK?"

"It's always been OK every other time."

"No! No don't you dare dismiss it and pretend that you didn't just commit a cardinal hair sin!"

Kayo shrugged again.

Selene pointed at Kayo then the tray of food. "You, you're going to eat that while I go and get some emergency supplies, and then we're going to fix this mess!"

Selene didn't give Kayo a chance to respond, she just swept out of the room, having delivered her orders which she expected to be obeyed. Kayo wanted to argue but knew it was a pointless waste of energy. Her hair felt like straw, she was grumpy and now that the enticing scent of cheesy pasta was permeating the room, she realised she was hungry too.

By the time Selene returned, arms ladened with so many bottles Kayo was sure she had just robbed a salon, she had eaten all of the food, drank half the milk and could admit that she actually felt a bit better.

"Right," Selene declared, dumping her load on the bed and sorting through it. "This is a moisturing shampoo, it's my favourite, the one that Scott keeps stealing. We're going to wash your hair with this and then we're going to slap on this deep conditioning mask and leave it for the full half hour before rinsing."

"Half an hour?" Selene had never heard Kayo sound so shocked.

"Yep, while wearing this." Selene produced something that looked like deflated balloon that had mated with a wedding bouquet.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a swimming cap, ignore the flowers, it'll keep the conditioner in place and create warmth to help it soak in, we'll cover it with a towel, you won't see it."

It took some persuading, but soon Kayo was back with soaking wet hair. Selene helped her to smother her locks in an insane amount of the hair mask and wrestled it into the swimming cap then wrapped her whole head in a towel.

"I feel ridiculous."

"Ypu look it too, but beauty is pain and it'll be worth it in the end."

"I know at least six different ways to kill you without you making a sound, they will never find your body."

"But you wouldn't do that to me, would you? Because then you'd be combing that shit out on your own."

The witch spoke the truth.

"Urghhh," Kayo groaned, refusing to admit defeat but knowing she had to. "This is going to take forever."

"Nah, it won't, don't sweat it. We'll have a girly night. Look, I bought face masks and chocolate too, it'll be great."

There was protests, but Selene quickly bulldozed through them like she always did, going so far as to launch herself at the other woman and sit on her when she tried to escape to lock herself in the bathroom, holding her down while she scrubbed at her face with a cleansing wipe and then painted on the mask. Ignoring her outraged screeching as she flailed her arms in a defensive attack.

The door opened at one point, Gordon and Alan sticking their heads in to make sure everything was OK. In their house screaming was never ignored. They took one look at Selene straddling Kayo, holding a dripping brush between her teeth while Kayo tried to push her hands away, both girls faces smeared in bright green face mud, and backed right out again. Selene didn't blame them.

Kayo looked at Selene, her eyes narrowing as if she were about to shove her onto the floor, but then her lips curved in a smile and she started to laugh.

They both collapsed into manic giggling, unable to stop. The looks on the boys faces ahd been priceless, as had theirs when they had turned to look at the door, pausing in the middle of their fighting.

"Thats going to be all around the island in the next ten minutes," Kayo howled.

"Oh gods, yes. They're never going to let this be forgotten," Selene wheezed, easing up on her friend and rolling sideways to get off her.

By the time their hysterics had subsided Selene gave Kayo permission to wash out her hair.

Over the course of the next two hours Selene smothered Kayo's hair in detangler and painstakingly combed through the now thankfully not so tangled mass, working in tiny sections at a time, from the tip to the roots until she could run the comb smoothly through her hair.

As they worked, with Kayo sat on the floor in front of the bed and Selene perched on the edge behind her, they fell into an easy chatter, sharing the chocolate Selene had brought with her and catching up.

If anyone asked, Selene would say she was closest to the boys, and most definitely Scott, but she counted Kayo as a close friend just the same.

At first meeting the two women had decided that they had very little in common, although they had banded together, two girls in a sea of testosterone that was Tracy Island and had become close pretty quickly.

Selene was more of a girly girl, finding enjoyment in putting on makeup, dressing up in nice clothes and watching weepy movies. Whereas Kayo was a tougher nut. She didn't really like dresses and considered makeup to be a waste of time, but they had worked hard to find a common ground.

Kayo had been used to being the lone girl (apart from Grandma) on the island and Selene often wondered if her mother dying young and her moving to the island where she had had to hold her own with what amounted to a chattering pack of wild monkeys, had stopped her from exploring her feminine side a bit more.

Kayo was great for so many things, she and Selene often spent their workout time together and had found they both shared a curious fascination for real crime documentaries, especially those of a more historical nature like Ted Bundy, The Yorkshire Ripper and the Night Stalker, it was interesting to try to figure out how today's modern technologies could have helped with the cases.

They would be found by John, wide awake in the small hours of the morning, camped out in the lounge with blankets and unhealthy snacks that Kayo would never admit to actually eating, engaged in some debate or other, sharing theories on unsolved cases or giving their opinions on one's that had already been solved.

No, their Kayo could never be described as girly but she was awesome just the same.

As Selene worked Kayo regaled her was the story of the whole sorry rescue from start to finish, starting with the flooding and finishing with all of then wallowing around in knee high muck, slopping around, falling over and basically having a less than relaxing mud bath.

The boys had had it easy, they just needed a quick shower and change of clothes, but Kayo had not been so lucky.

But the time all the tangles were out of her hair and Selene had dried it with the hairdryer she'd borrowed from Virgil's room, both girls were laughing again and with each sweep of the brush through her friends hair Selene felt her tense shoulder relaxing, simply enjoying the feel of someone looking after her for once.

Kayo didn't like being looked after, where the boys were always happy to accept any and all attention, especially if it came in the form of food, hugs or tv buddies, Kayo was more reserved and less likely to seek out company when she felt tired or moody. Selene made a mental note to force her company on her friend more often.

"There, all done," Selene announced, running her fingers through it one more time just because it felt so soft and shiny now that it had had some TLC.

"It actually feels amazing," Kayo admitted, stroke a strand between finger and thumb.

"That's because your heathen head has finally been nourished with something decent."

Kayo ignored that dig as Selene started to gather up her products, leaving some on the bedside table for Kayo to keep.

"There, that wasn't too horrendous was it?"

"So you say," Kayo huffed, but there was just a tiny hint of a smile on her face.

"So you wouldn't want to make this a monthly thing then?"

Kayo rolled her eyes. "Obviously not."

Selene shrugged, turning to pick up her things.

"But, I consider you my friend so, you know, hanging out once a month wouldn't be that much of a chore, but only because you want to."

"Oh, of course," Selene agreed, trying not to laugh.

"So, what now?" Kayo asked, reluctant to admit that it had actually been quite a fun night that she wasn't really ready to end yet.

Selene thought about it for a moment or two. "Wash off this stuff," she pointed to the mask that had long since dried into a flaking, crusty mess, "and then shove the boys off the couch so we can watch the next episode of 'Crimes of Passion, the 80s years'?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Big thanks to @myladykayo for the picture prompt. Not sure what this turned into but I went with it.

#kayo kyrano #selene tempest #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanfiction #witchy

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s-jatpfic · 3 years

Text

I need to hear that out of your mouth

summery: bobbys perspective on 'worse'/bobby figuring out how to help reggie (i guess, not actually tho. honestly i have no clue what i wrote)

ohh also, bobby uses they/them pronouns

words: 1150

warning: mention of abusive parents, visible signs of violence, swear words (message me if you think i should add something else)

———

They knew they shouldn’t have left.

For gods sake they knew.

But despite Reggies attempt to never let anyone see, Bobby also knew Reggies secret.

How could they have missed that.

Maybe he was good enough to hide it from self-centered Luke or from "everyone has anxious ticks" Alex, but he definitely couldn’t hide it from Bobby not before and certainly not since Bobby is in love with him.

The way Reggie anxiously grabs the sleeves of his flannel as if his life would depend on it, bare what would happen if they would just slightly slip up his wrist.

Or layering long sleeves and pants even in summer and even if they go to the beach. Bobby can’t even remember the last time they‘d seen Reggie actually swimming in the ocean instead of coming up with excuses about guarding their towels and soda or that he’d just ate one of the pre-packed sandwiches Bobbys mom made for the band and can’t go into the water just yet, as if he suddenly started to care about such things.

However the main indicator of Bobbys observance was the way Reggies nose scrunches up and his tongue plays with his teeth as if he’s back in middle school and just got his braces for the first time whenever he is lying.

Yes, Reggie is a good liar, good enough to convince Luke and Alex and his teachers, even himself, but Bobby is greater at detecting Reggies lies than he will ever know.

Ever since Bobby put the pieces together they‘d been waiting for Reggie to finally say that out loud so they can properly help him and not just plan movie nights or road trips to get Reggie out of his house, but Bobby didn’t want to push Reggie. Reggie has to say that because he wants to and not because Bobby resists on.

But now that Reggie finally has the courage to say those stupid fucking words, as Bobby called it in their mind ever since they discovered Reggies confidential information, now that he finally talks about it Bobby is the first one to run away, registering the low "they hurt me" only through the echo of the garage door yet this mumbled sentence was probably the most clean-cut words Bobby ever caught up and everything needed for them to fully break into anger.

Maybe they weren’t ready for Reggie to talk about it. Maybe they didn’t got to prepare themselves properly. But what should they do, everything Bobby can do in this situation is calming down and being there for Reggie and thats the one thing Bobby isn’t doing.

So they gotta change that. Hopefully Reggie is still in the garage.

As Bobby enters their studio, the three other sunset curve members are yet paddlet up on the couch, impossible for Bobby to tell which body part belongs to which boy.

Only their soft breathing is stopping the room usually filled with obnoxiously loud noises, music blasting on full volume or chattering about nonsense, from being silent.

Maybe Bobby isnt ready for this yet, however, they have to be ready. This is not their fight, this is all about Reggie, all about the boy they are eying up a little bit too intense, rose-colored glasses refining their view.

Clearing their voice to get at least one of their friends attention, Bobby is still standing awkwardly uncomfortable in the middle of the room not really knowing what to do, what to say or how to act.

It‘s Alex being the first one to break the hug and facing Bobby, though, as soon as Reggie registers the sound, all his attention is on the suspenders-wearing lad.

Nothing but a low undefinable noise was leaving Bobbys throat as they opened their mouth.

Though their mind was filled with millions of things to say, they weren’t physically able to, something stopping them from moving.

As Alex caught up on the situation, he pulled Luke aside leaving their two oblivious friends alone.

Yeah, maybe Bobby isn’t the only one being in love with their best friend but maybe (or most definitely) is this not the right time to address that.

"I assume you already knew?"

Reggie hated how weak his voice sounds, but honestly there wasn’t a lot of explaining needed to understand why.

"Yeah I- ehm, I figured. Was easy to catch up on once I got behind all of your habits"

Bobby still hasn’t moved, unsure if they should go up to Reggie or if physical touch is too much to handle at the moment.

"Thanks for never mentioning it. Kinda hoping we all can just forget about it, pretending today never happened, you know?"

The bruises on Reggies still uncovered skin are the most captivating, hypnotizing thing Bobby ever experienced.

Green and purple shadows dancing their way from Reggies wrists up to the straps of his Tank Top, telling their very own story about two people who should have never gotten any kids.

"Can you- uhm? Please-"

It is as if Bobby lost all their knowledge about being a functional human being, their voice an octave below average.

Shaking of and breathing out, they finally get their shit together, finally sitting next to Reggie on the couch, finally able to form coherent sentences, finally able to think.

This is about Reggie. This is about helping the boy they like, their best friend, the one who’s always there if they need him. Now it’s time to pay their bill back.

"I know this is probably hard for you, and I can promise not to ever talk about this ever again if you wish, still I need you to know that I’m always gonna help you, protect you, give you custody or just distract and cuddle you whenever you’d like. You’re not going down by yourself, you’re having me and the boys and we act the way you want us to. But can you please, one last time, can you please say those stupid fucking words out loud for me? I need to hear that out of your mouth. Please?"

Bobby was practically bagging but for some reason this is very important for them, maybe because they need it smashed right into their brain to actually realize the gravity of the situation.

Reggie is just leaning into Bobby’s arms. Being hold by them, makes everything seem less big of an issue, being hold by them makes the world seem to disappear.

He can do this. It’s just saying it once. It’s just betraying them once. And it’s not as if Bobby wouldn’t know already. Saying it out loud, admit the issue is hard, is complicated, but being hold by Bobby, it’s not impossible.

"My parents abuse me"

~franky

masterlist

#boggie #bobby x reggie

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the-septic-maniac · 3 years

Text

True Hope's Peak Academy: The Reconstruction

SPOILER WARNING FOR PRACTICALLY THE ENTIRETY OF DANGANRONPA!

Deraila looked in the mirror checking if they looked okay. They were nervous as today was a very important day. Her and and their long time friend Luna, were holding a press conference announcing that The Ultimates are alive and well. She didn’t wear any formal clothing as she didn’t have any on hand. All she had was her old Hope’s Peak Academy school uniform, her lab clothes and her casual clothes. She didn’t feel comfortable wearing her Hope’s Peak uniform as it gave her bad memories. Her casual clothes consisted of a dark green tank top, black jeans, green combat boots with black laces, fingerless gloves, and a black leather jacket with green buttons. Her lab clothes consisted some of the same clothes as her casual with the exception of having a stained green lab coat, black t-shirt, and and black vinyl gloves. The two things that she constantly wore with all their outfits was a pair of aviator glasses, a belt with pouches that held two separate packs of gum and a jar of candy, and a beanie.

They decided to go with the casual clothing as those were the ones that she was the most comfortable in and they didn’t know how long this conference was going to be. Luna came in wearing a black suit and tie. “You ready?”she asked. Deraila took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready.” Luna walked around and found Mukuro and Taka. “Mukuro. Taka. It’s almost time for the conference. Mukuro, ensure that your crew is ready to go in case of an attack or an incident happens. Taka, is your speech ready?” Mukuro nodded and went off to check on her crew as they were on security. Taka nodded in confirmation “Yes, my speech is ready. Let us hope we can reestablish our connections with the public and start our crusade to a better future.”

Deraila looked at a nearby clock. It was almost 1 PM which is when the conference was supposed to start. Deraila’s heart pounded through their chest as they walked to the entrance hall. She wondered how many questions would involve her past and the former remnants of despair. She got to the door to the outside. Luna and Taka followed not to far behind. The three of them looked at each other, nodded and opened the giant metal door to the outside. We could hear the loud chattering of world representatives and reporters from inside the building even with the loud whirring of the door opening.

When the door fully opened, their senses were bombarded. Crisp, fresh air went into their lungs, the bright sun nearly blinded them, and the sounds of the outside world rang in their ears. Right in front of the entrance was a large group of people and a podium with a microphone on it. The school grounds, with the help of Daisaku and Santa made the outside of the campus more bright and lively looking with all the flowers and trees that were planted.

Taka walked up to the podium, checked the mic and started to speak. “Hello everyone and thank you for coming to the press conference. My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru and I would like formally welcome you to True Hope’s Peak Academy. Before I introduce our main speakers, I would like to tell you a few things. One, please be aware of the fact that is you cause any problems, we will have security remove you from the premise. Two, please refrain from taking any photos till the end of the conference. Three, please turn your phone off or on vibrate. Four, be prepared for the conference to move into the building as although we have good security, the protesters could pose a risk to your safety. And five, please hold all unnecessary comments to yourself. Now it would be my honor to introduce our main speakers, Luna Wayne and Deraila Septica. These two have keep the lives of the people in this school. They have helped us in hard times and when the future was bleak and grim and riddled with despair, they helped light the way to where we are now.” Deraila and Luna walked up to the podium. “Thank you Taka. My name is Luna Wayne and this is my partner Deraila Septica.” Deraila had her hand on her belt and was fiddling with a pen. “ To get started, let us tell you what we've been doing in hiding.” A large tv was rolled out and a powerpoint come up. “We have been in hiding for almost 10 years and for good reason. In those years we’ve developed our own society, helped others in need that don’t immediately attack us or those who are in dire need. What had started this happened 10 to 12 years ago on this day. Deraila is here to explained what happened.”

Deraila stepped up to the mic. “Thank you Luna. Before I start, I would like to apologize before hand for what I have done in the past and my actions. Awhile ago for those who don’t know, The Tragedy happened. The Hope’s Peak Student counsel had killed each other in a killing “game” after being shown images that were going to be used to blackmail them. Then one of the students, who I will not name for the sake of privacy, who was being experimented on was shown to the world and the accident was blamed on him. At the same time me and another student were being manipulated into creating the animation “Monokuma’s Gloomy Day” and what you all know as the Despair Disease. These were used to manipulate the reserve course students into attacking the main building. A few days later, the class of 77 had witnessed their class rep, die horribly and this made them spiral into a deep and horrible despair and they became what you will all know as the remnants of despair. From that point on havoc wrecked the world. Cities and even entire countries were wrecked with chaos. But the last glimmer of hope came in the form of the 78th class. These guys locked themselves in and were going to live their lives in Hope’s Peak in peace. At least thats what was suppose to happen. You see we had a traitor among us. This person was the exact same person who had planned the tragedy. While me and luna don’t exactly wish death upon a person, we hope that they are in a better mental state. We were put into a killing game just like the student council were. We were shown images of our loved ones in danger. This caused one of the students to try and lure and attack another. But fortunately we were able to stop them in time. It happened with other students as well but we were fortunate enough that with some help from who some of you will know as the ultimate clairvoyant, to stop these events from happening. We were able to get to the basement, after unlocking the floors. What we had found there was horrifying. We had found rooms designed to kill us. Each one was designed to bring us despair in our final moments. The ultimate clairvoyant upon entering these rooms had visions of what these rooms did and who they were meant for. A animator worked with him and they illustrated them to make these videos”

A video popped up on the screen. It showed the what was in the rooms and then showed a animation of who it was meant for getting horribly killed. The crowd gasped in horror as the video went on. When the video stopped the crowd was murmuring anxiously.

Deraila started to speak again “That was what would of happened if we had not stopped the killings from happening. After that we had started to make a plan to recover our loved ones who were being kept in a apartment building nearby. Mukuro Ikusaba, Mondo Oowada, Sakura Ogami and Luna all planed a mission to rescue these valuable people. When we finally rescued these people, some of them arrived with serious injuries. We treated them the best we could. The adults of the group became the council of our society in the beginning. We decided to rescue our fellow ultimates or anyone who had been under attack from what people had called ‘ultimate hunts’. These were conducted in case anyone was found or even seemed like they would have a ultimate talent. With the help of Mondo and Mukuro, they when on rescue missions across the country and even the world to rescue these people and to ensure that they got back safely. They built up their own teams, with two of them being the captives. Of course we couldn't do this with out sponsors. Luna and Togami had connections to many people and they helped us get to were we are know by helping us by giving supplies, giving us rides to the places that we need to get to and helping us build new parts of the school. Eventually we recovered the warriors of hope and the remnants of despair and helped return them to a some what normal state. At the time though, we still didn't have any recollection of what happened in years past. In order to do that, I had to make a modified version of the Despair disease strain, The remembrance disease. From that point on we recovered more ultimates and people who under attack by these ultimate hunts. Then fast forward to a week or two ago when we decided to reconnect full with the outside world. I’m going to hand it back over to Luna.”

Deraila walked back and grabbed a piece of gum out and chewed it anxiously as Luna took the podium again. “Thank you before we get to questions, i would like to thank our security lead by Mukuro Ikusaba and her right hand woman Kanon Nakajima, for keeping watch and ensure that we are safe Now any questions?”

(use the askbox to ask questions)

#Dangan Ronpa #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa thh #thh #danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair #danganronpa au #ultra despair girls #long post #dangan ronpa #udg #udh

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alexboehm55144 · 4 years

Text

Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 23 - Devastation

Hello! How is everyone doing? Its summer, at least here in the northern hemisphere. So enjoy the warmth and sun of this time of year, but don't forget to social distance! If you're free and need some reading material, then good news for you! Because I have an action packed chapter right here thats waiting to be read! Once again I would like to thank JKnight97 for beta reading this!

00000000000

Heroes had been dispatched to Japan, where persistent Chinese efforts had managed to breach US and Japanese defenses, and now People’s Liberation Army forces were flooding into Tokyo. Although it was the most heavily defended part of Japan, it was also the most valuable target, hence the reason the Chinese concentrated much of their military might on the city. Japan was a key US ally at a location close to China, and that was a problem for the PLA. The Chinese needed to deal with it so that they could strengthen their own position. The most recent attack had broken through into the city far more quickly than expected, and US military personnel were baffled as to why this attack was so different from earlier assaults.

Even before the Typhoon reached Japan, everyone could tell that Retsuko and Haida were upset. Tokyo was their home city, and just the thought of the destruction being wreaked upon the city was almost enough to bring them to tears. Toothdee had told the couple they could have the day off, and everyone was trying to console them somehow. Jack and Skye promised they wouldn’t rest till the Chinese were routed from Tokyo, while Judy had tried making a blueberry and carrot pie to cheer them up. However, it was difficult as Nick kept eating the blueberries.

Heroes gathered on the bridge as Toothdee guided the ship through a bank of clouds towards their destination. When the vessel exited the cloud bank near Tokyo, everyone could see the scale of the devastation. Columns of smoke stretched upwards into the night sky, blocking out the stars. The orange glow of massive fires illuminated tall buildings, and anti-aircraft guns fired upwards, trying to down enemy aircraft.

Sighs spread through the assembled warriors as they looked at the horrible scene in front of them. This was the city they had rested in just a short time ago, after the Korean campaign. Many members of Heroes would consider this one of the most depressing and soul crushing sights they had ever seen over the course of this war. Although combat was their life, it still hurt to see homes burning and the country’s capital drowning in smoke.

On the bridge, the couple watched as their home town was slowly being destroyed by the invaders. The red panda was crying and covering her face. Haida knelt beside her and put his paws on Retsuko’s shoulder. She turned and buried her face in the fur of her hyena, the situation being too much to bear. Things only deteriorated further as a radio call from a US marine in the city came in.

“This is Private Norton of the US marine corps; we have a confirmed sighting of dark heroes! Repeat, confirmed sighting of dark- HUGH!”

The call was quickly cut off and those listening heard what sounded like a chainsaw. They instantly assumed it was Dark Alex’s weapon, cutting through the US soldier. This explained why the Chinese assault had been so successful, and it would make the Heroes’ response all the more difficult. Their counterparts appeared to revel in conflict, and it seemed like the desire to fight was what drove them.

Holding back the horrible thoughts about such destruction and the presence of dark heroes, captain Boehm tried to rouse his friends into a fighting spirit. He always tried to be positive, even in dire circumstances.

“I know it hurts to think about what’s happening in that city, but remember, preventing further disasters like this is why we do what we do.”

It hurt to see the innocent Retsuko brought to tears. It hurt to see the entire team looking downtrodden.

“We beat them in Zootopia, we can beat them in Tokyo! Let’s inflict on those Chinese forces, what they inflicted on this city! Tenfold!”

The captain saw a few small smiles, but the aura of depression could still clearly be felt. As the Typhoon landed in an empty container storage area near the city docks, Toothdee took this opportunity to check on Kion and assign everyone’s orders.

“Kion, do you feel like you're ready to get back in the fray? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“I’m fine, besides I want to help.”

“Very well. Jack, Skye, go out and see what you can find out about Chinese movements. Laval, Eris, link up with the US forward operating base. Nick, Judy, you're with me guarding the Typhoon. Alex, JayJay, assault the main Chinese positions with the US Marines. Kion, Jasiri, search for any civilian stragglers and evacuate them.”

Everyone only responded with simple nods and left the bridge to gear up. As they left, many heroes gave Haida and Retsuko a hug or a pat on the back as they passed by. Today, Heroes would be fighting for their friend’s homeland.

000

The teams left the Typhoon and went their separate ways into the burning city. There wasn’t much in the way of chatter. The destruction wreaked on Tokyo had left a somber mood. Jack and Skye found their way down into the Tokyo subway system. Using a map on file, they began moving behind enemy lines.

“It’s like Zootopia all over again.” Skye said “It never gets any easier.”

“I know,” Jack responded. “But, this is what we’ve trained for. We can do this!”

Skye appreciated her partner’s enthusiasm, and gave him a playful nudge as they continued down the subway tunnel. All of a sudden Jack stopped in his tracks, and Skye bumped into him a few seconds later.

“What?” The arctic fox asked.

“Chinese soldiers.”

Flashlights appeared at the end of the tunnel and the two could hear soldiers speaking in a foreign language.

The pair frantically looked for somewhere to hide, and quickly dove under a bench nearby. They huddled closely to each other in order to stay concealed, but it wasn’t anything they were not used to.

From where Jack and Skye were concealed, they could see a trio of boot pairs passing by the bench. Once the soldiers had passed, the pair exited cover and snuck up behind two of the unsuspecting soldiers. Silenced weapons finished off the three unfortunate soldiers, and the pair continued.

Jack radioed Toothdee and informed her that the Chinese were using the subway to move around the city. Toothdee said she would alert US forces. As the two went deeper into Chinese territory, the tunnel got darker due to the ongoing power failure. Jack moved to turn on the flashlight on his weapon, but Skye stopped him, saying that the light might alert any more Chinese soldiers they came across.

“But, I can’t see.” Jack protested.

“Here, I’ll guide you. Watch out for the third rail.”

The fox took Jack’s paw and started leading him through the darkened section, with both mammals enjoying the touch of the other. Once they left the pitch black section of the subway, the pair continued to hold hands, not out of necessity, but simply out of love.

However, once Jack and Skye came to a subway exit, they let go of each other’s paws and prepared themselves for whatever was next. Peeking up onto the surface, they spotted a Chinese armored personnel carrier and infantry. The two then sprinted into a nearby building so they could get to higher ground. Finding their way up to the third floor, the elevated position revealed a lot more of the Chinese assault force. There were dozens of soldiers and a large number of vehicles, both armored and unarmored.

Skye turned on the camera on her uniform and got a few good shots of the enemy force. Jack rooted around the building and found out that it belonged to a company called Chararyman Trading. Now they had the position of a lot of Chinese forces, as well as their numbers.

“I think we have all we need.” Skye said, “let’s get out of here and move on to somewhere else.”

Suddenly the pair heard yelling coming from nearby, and turning to the door of the room they were in, they saw a PLA soldier. Jack gunned the soldier down, but not before his opponent managed to get a shot off. This alerted other Chinese soldiers who began to enter the building.

Thinking quickly, the two sprinted to the other side of the floor and reached a window through which they could see the roof of the next-door building one story below. Skye shot out the window with her firearm and then readied a crossbow she had on her back. The crossbow was designed to fire zip lines, with the weapon itself capable of being affixed to the ground to make an anchor for one end of the line. Taking aim, Skye discharged the weapon and the arrow embedded itself in the roof of the other building. She then affixed the crossbow to the ground. With the line now stabilized, Jack tossed a grenade at the advancing Chinese soldiers to buy them some time to escape. The pair used their weapons as trolleys to zipline across to the other roof, before pulling out the arrow and preventing Chinese soldiers from following them the same way.

“Toothdee, we could use a bit of help here.” Skye said into her radio just as the Chinese soldiers on the Chararyman Trading building opened fire, forcing her and Jack to duck for cover.

“Kion and Jasiri are nearby, I’ll send them to help.”

Jack and Skye managed to get down via the fire escape on the side of the building, and began running down the street to avoid any Chinese forces. An enemy off-road vehicle began to pursue the two mammals, who ducked into an alleyway to avoid being run over. The vehicle stopped and the soldiers got out and pursued the team on foot.

Jack and Skye turned around to engage, when suddenly Kion and Jasiri were at their side, weapons at the ready.

“Someone order a rescue?” Kion said, blocking enemy bullets with his sword. The other three heroes laid down gunfire, killing some enemy soldiers and forcing the others to retreat.

“Thanks for the assist.” Jack said “we owe you two.”

“Don’t mention it, all in a day's work for two Heroes.” Jasiri said. “I hear you two got some good information.”

“The location of dozens of Chinese soldiers and vehicles. I think with this we can kick them out of the city.”

“Excellent job!”

“All in a day's work for two agents of the ZIA!”

000

While Jack and Skye had gone behind enemy lines to ascertain information about the Chinese forces, Alex and JayJay were meeting the enemy head on in combat. They were in charge of clearing a specific sector of the city, while US marines cleared adjacent sectors. The plan was for all forces to converge on the Chinese line. Currently the human and wolf pair were walking down a street, keeping watch for Chinese soldiers.

“All this destruction.” Alex said, “it’s like Zootopia and Guam all over again.”

The wolf went over and patted her ally on the back in case he was feeling depressed.

“Hey, remember what you told me. We can’t let ourselves feel down, we have to keep going to prevent further devastation.”

“True, it’s definitely motivating. It pushes you to do your best to prevent more damage.” The Captain looked up at the smoke filled sky. “Even though there’s a lot of enemy forces out there.”

“With you by my side, I feel like I can get through anything!”

Alex playfully pushed her and the pair laughed, before JayJay’s keen wolf eyes noticed a glint in a nearby window.

“Get down! Sniper!”

JayJay pushed Alex out of the way and jumped back as a bullet struck the street next to them. The pair took cover in an alleyway, and formulated a course of action.

“What’s the plan?” JayJay asked.

Alex noticed a flyer on the wall, which he ripped off and held outside of cover. A bullet went through the paper, confirming the sniper had a good shot on them if they got out of cover.

“You stay here and keep them distracted, I’ll sneak around.”

The wolf nodded and fired blindly around the corner of the building, while Alex headed down the alley towards the building where the sniper was. The Captain saw shots coming out of a window, and quickly climbed up to the window using a fire escape. Alex timed his climbing with the gunfire, so the sniper wouldn’t hear the fire escape creaking.

Alex crept closer to the window, and in a split second, looked in the window and fired his pistol, killing the sniper.

The captain whistled and let JayJay know the coast was clear, before returning to street level.

“I expected more enemy soldiers.” JayJay said.

“I know, it’s quiet, too quiet.”

JayJay held up a finger, prompting Alex to be silent. She closed her eyes, sniffed the air, and remained silent for a few seconds.

“I can smell and hear a vehicle, but it’s hard to tell with all this smoke.”

“Well, that's good to know. Let me know if you detect anything else.”

“Will do.”

The pair continued down the street, and soon they came across a Chinese ZBD-09 light armored vehicle sitting in the street, along with some infantry.

“You were right!” Alex whispered, the pair sneaking up to the vehicle. Alex took a spent shell casing and threw it, distracting the Chinese soldiers and prompting them to move out of the way of the Heroes. JayJay knocked on the hatch on top of the vehicle. When a Chinese soldier opened it up, the wolf quickly punched him, knocking him out, and dragged him out of the vehicle so that she and Alex could climb inside. They immediately neutralized the enemy driver and companion before they could even draw their firearms..

“Can you drive?” Captain Boehm asked, moving the downed soldiers out of the way and back up through the top hatch.

“I mean.... it’s just like a car, right?” JayJay said nervously as she felt the controls.

Alex shut the top hatch and got in the gunner’s seat. “Then, let’s get moving.”

The wolf put the pedal to the metal and the vehicle lurched forward, nearly running over two Chinese soldiers. Alex used the turret to open fire on any enemy troopers he saw, making sure he took down every one.

The vehicle crashed through several stopped cars, hitting a Chinese soldier. Other soldiers in the vicinity opened fire, including some armed with rocket launchers.

JayJay messed with the controls inside the vehicle and fired the main gun, eliminating the pair of PLA infantrymen. Alex targeted any trooper with a rocket launcher, making them a priority due to the danger they posed. Most infantry ran for cover as the captain opened fire on them, taking down one hostile after another.

After all the infantry had been neutralized, another ZBD-09 entered the fray, engaging the heroes with its weapons. The wolf at the controls stepped on the gas and spun their vehicle around the enemy vehicle.

“JayJay...” captain Boehm said, unaware of what she was planning.

JayJay sent their armored vehicle crashing right into the side of the enemy vehicle, pushing it into a construction site. The wolf then backed up out of the site and the duo then fired at the building’s support structures with their weapons.

The concrete and steel buckled and came crashing down, crushing the enemy vehicle. As the dust settled, the pair could see part of the enemy ZBD peeking out from under the pile of rubble, crushed like a tin can.

“You think we got them?” JayJay asked.

“It never hurts to be careful.”

The pair fired at the immobilized vehicle, causing it to burst into flames. There was no way the crew could have survived.

“I think we got them.” Alex said, giving JayJay a thumbs up, before they moved onwards. The pair had to disembark the vehicle at a certain point and move through an alleyway into a market. Although the air was still heavy with smoke, JayJay’s keen wolf nose picked up something, and it wasn’t market food.

“I smell something familiar.” the wolf said “and yet... different...”

The area was illuminated by bright red neon lights and the glow of fires in the city. Smoke still obscured visibility. Two figures ominously appeared at the other end of the market, and the Heroes readied their weapons. As the unknown combatants drew closer, their identities were revealed. It was Dark Alex and Dark JayJay, smirks on their faces as they were obviously thinking about how doomed the Heroes were.

“Well, well, well,” Dark Alex said. “Here to stop the Chinese invasion?”

“We were, but you will be a good substitute.” Alex said, getting out his sword.

“Ha! Prepare to be disappointed. You will surely be a worthy opponent, I enjoy fighting the best!”

Dark Alex drew his blade, and the chainsaw inside hummed as the glowing red blades rotated around the sword.

The two wolves prepared themselves for paw to paw combat, each warrior staring down their counterpart.

The pair of swordsmen charged forward and clashed blades, as JayJay and her counterpart engaged each other.

Alex and his adversary got in a sword lock, causing the chainsaw on Dark Alex’s sword to stop, as it was blocked by Captain Boehm’s blade.

“This is your end!” the dark warrior yelled.

“Last time I checked, Heroes killed four of your members!”

Meanwhile the pair of wolves battled, each of them landing melee strikes on the other, but blocking each other’s attacks. Both warriors had heightened levels of agility and endurance, making their fight fast paced.

Dark Alex fired his grappling hook, but the Captain managed to dodge out of the way. Alex grabbed the line of the grappling hook as it passed and pulled, knocking his enemy off balance, before delivering a powerful punch to his opponent’s chin. The dark warrior yelled in anger and took a few steps back to collect himself.

JayJay’s dark counterpart performed a drop kick on her enemy, hitting the wolf square in the chest. The young Hero was sent staggering away while she regained her senses.

Dark Alex was now closer to JayJay, and Alex was now closer to Dark JayJay. Each warrior decided to attack the enemy nearest to them, switching up the partners in the fight.

The dark wolf stared down Captain Boehm. “You know you're kinda cute.” She said, chuckling to herself.

“No thanks, I’m taken by that wolf over there.” Alex said, gesturing to the other Hero in the battle.

Dark JayJay ran forward and attacked with a series of kicks, but Alex blocked them with his sword.

Every sword swipe the Captain attempted was merely dodged by the wolf. Dark JayJay used her agility to dodge Alex’s sword swings, with JayJay using the same tactics against her enemy.

Dark Alex tried to bring his sword down onto JayJay, but she evaded the strike and landed a few good hits. The dark warrior retaliated with a shoulder charge that put the hero on the defensive.

Alex managed to land some good kicks and jabs on the dark wolf, as he was able to predict most of her attacks, blocking them accordingly. The Captain then used the wolf’s own force against her, evading an attack, spinning around her, and kicking her in the back.

Dark Alex tried another shoulder charge, but this time JayJay was ready and easily jumped out of the way.

With some good timing, both dark warriors were sent slamming into one another, dazing them. The pair of Heroes used this opportunity to get in a few good strikes. Dark Alex and Dark JayJay regained their senses and once again prepared to resume combat.

“Come on then!” Captain Boehm said, his blade hungering for combat.

“Let’s see what you’ve got!” JayJay yelled.

The intense fight began anew, with each fighter squaring off against their counterpart. Swords and fists clashed together, and the marketplace was filled with the sounds of combat and yelling.

The duo of swordsmen got into a blade lock, their weapons pushing together, sending sparks flying. But the dark Captain knew how to get the upper hand.

“You fight so hard for your country. Such ferocity.”

“All to stop you and the Chinese. They started this war, and now we’ll finish it!”

“You think China started this war? Hasn’t the US always been good at starting pointless wars? What you’ve been told is lies, it was your nation that fired the first shot.”

While the Heroes leader was distracted, absorbing this information, the other swordsman took the opportunity to push his enemy back, sending him staggering.

As the two pairs fought, they soon became aware of a loud sound coming closer and closer. Artillery fire began raining down closer and closer to the marketplace. A nearby building was struck by incoming shells, causing debris to start falling down on the market.

The Heroes ran for cover towards the market, while the villains ran for cover in the opposite direction. Alex and JayJay took shelter in an alcove on the side of a building, while their counterparts disappeared into the smoke. The Captain instinctively shielded the wolf with his own body, as artillery and debris crashed down nearby. The earth shook and JayJay yelled in fear as dust and smoke filled the alcove. But as quickly as it had come, the bombardment ceased, and the world was silent once again.

“Are you ok?!” Both heroes asked each other, before quickly assuring the other that they were alright. They raced out of the alcove and peered through the marketplace, their vision heavily impaired by the particles suspended in the air.

“Do you see them?” The wolf asked.

“I can’t see anything.” Captain Boehm said, activating his flashlight and moving through the dust.

As the particulates started to settle, the Heroes reached the other end of the market, but they still hadn’t come across their counterparts.

“Aww, they ran off? I was just getting started!” JayJay said.

“Oh don’t worry, this war isn’t over yet. I have a feeling that we will see them again.”

000

A few hours had passed, and the sun was steadily rising. Darkness still covered the city despite the sun having risen above the horizon, due to the many fires that raged throughout the area.

Haida and Retsuko were sitting out on the deck of the Typhoon, watching their home city enveloped by destruction. But, at least for now, there were more US troops in the city than Chinese. Haida had been holding onto something he wanted to say, and until now he was just unable to find the correct moment to speak. The hyena knew he couldn’t let the silence linger between him and his red panda any longer, and he gathered up the courage to talk.

“Reports coming in say the Chinese have been pushed back, for now.”

Retsuko still remained quiet, just looking at her feet.

The silence returned, both mammals too upset about the state of their home city. But now, it was Retsuko’s turn to say a few words.

“Our city.... our home.... ”

Hearing Retsuko speak felt like the only thing that gave Haida joy in this trying time.

“I know.... I know it hurts.”

The red panda squeezed her mate’s paw, prompting Haida to wrap her in a hug.

“Just to see Tokyo burning like this...” Haida said. “I hoped this city would emerge unscathed.”

“Places we know, places we’ve been, all gone.”

The hyena nodded, and patted his red panda on the back.

“At least.... I still have you Haida.”

“We can make this right Retsuko, we can help fix this...”

“I know,” the red panda said, more determined than ever to carry out her job aboard the Typhoon, “we will make sure this never happens again.” Although she wasn’t doing the fighting, she knew her work was a big part of the war against the Chinese.

Haida pulled back and looked Retsuko in her eyes, which looked so beautiful, even with the fires from the city nearby reflecting off them.

The space between the two grew smaller and smaller, the burning city moved out of sight and out of mind. The only feelings the pair had being a gentle breeze, a rapid beat in their chests, and the soft touch of the other’s lips.

They had both vowed to do whatever they could to stop the Chinese from causing further destruction to Japan. Although their home city had suffered, they still had the most important thing to them: each other.

00000000000

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Stay safe and wear a mask!

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queenlifesupport · 5 years

Text

Behind The Scenes (Ben! x Y/N)

@mhoodx “maybe something where ben has a crush on roger taylor’s daughter which is the reader ?”

WORD COUNT : 2,080

I really tried with this one, I’ve been writing so much I’m kind of tiring myself out so I’m very sorry if this lacks “umph”. But I do hope that someone enjoys this! Thank you for reading! Oh and I went through and edited it, I sadly might've missed a few, fair warning

WARNINGS : Language and horrible writing :)

"Dad please just let me get to work." I shook my head slightly while laughing over the phone, this was a normal occurrence between us.

"Okay, okay, I'm glad you're doing this though Y/N. I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah, okay. I'll call you later?" He hummed in reply, then we both said our goodbyes. My dad was a little, what's the word, obsessed with me. But at least I knew he cared, he's definitely the best father I could ask for. I took in a nervous breath, taking a look in the mirror making sure I looked somewhat professional. I left the counter I stood in front of, making my way over to the production team, patiently waiting for what tasks I needed to finish.

"Y/N, they should be coming any minute, could you make sure all the dressings rooms are prepped along with the hair and makeup booth?" Someone in the group gave me the directions, I replied with a yes and then went off to do my duty. I enjoyed working here, a lot, I loved the studio, I loved the behind the scenes aspect, everything was so exciting to me although I had only started not long ago, and I needed something captivating. I quickly checked in all four rooms, closing the doors behind me and taking a look on my clipboard to make sure the outfit matched with the names written on the door. All seemed just fine. There was a sound of energetic attitudes in the main room, lasting for a few minutes while I stood by the marked off areas. Soon the chatter seemed to move down the hallway, only now revealing the source, the 4 main guys of the current Bohemian Rhapsody film. I’ve heard my father chat about them quite a lot so it felt as if this wasn’t my first time meeting all of them.

"Welcome! Each of your rooms has a name board on it, make yourself at home. I will be in shortly once everyone gets situated." I said with a bright smile while looking at each one of them. I knew everyone's name I just didn't have a face to put it to, but I did know 'Ben Hardy' would be playing my father. They all thanked me and entered the correct room while I stood outside distracting myself for 5 minutes. I knocked softly on the first door, Rami Malek, playing as the one and only Freddie Mercury. I heard a light come in, signaling me to open the door. "Good morning, Mr. Malek." I said as I shut the door.

"Good morning, Miss?" He waited to receive my last name.

"Taylor." I replied, setting down my clipboard on the red velvet couch cushion.

"Ah, Rogers daughter, got it - so what do we have today?" I walked him through the outfit, also helping him with some pieces he struggled with. At the end, he looked like Mercury's part in Break Free, but without the classic wig and makeup. "Perfect." He laughed while clapping his hands together at his reflection.

"I'll leave you alone, you can come and find me if something is wrong." And with that I left the room. I got myself prepared for the next room while scribbling down notes and marking off things on my to do list. To my favor, Ben Hardy was next in line, I was excited to finally meet the man who was playing as my dad. I gave the door a knock like the one before and anticipated an acknowledgement at the sound, the door opened while Ben stood there slightly confused. "Hardy?" I snickered lightly at his expression.

"I recognized you when I came in, do I know you from somewhere? I could never forget a face that beautiful" He inquired, looking me up and down,

"You probably do." I chuckled once again, entering the room. "You know my dad very well, in fact, you're playing him." A look of realization echoed on his face. I have to say, he's pretty attractive, but that's probably not the best thing to say about the guy who's acting as your father.

"I haven't seen you around much, and I'm quite surprised, I thought you'd be joining your father for some shoots." He made his way over to the lit up vanity, picking up a few stray pieces of paper, flipping through them.

"I've been away to Ohio, graduating from one of the many beauty schools in America. It's actually supposed to be the best there. I've been working here for about three weeks now" I said slightly softer than my sentence before, following after him to the mirror. He looked up at me through the cheval glass, catching my eyes. He had beautiful eyes, a gaze that made you desire to be unraveled in his mind, even a blink made your heart flutter.

"I assume thats why you're in the studio then? Finally able to work here?" He smiled softly, taking the side of his lip between his teeth.

"You got it right. Enough talking though - lets discuss the outfit and components." I conveyed as I escorted myself to the opposite end of the dressing room. Gently placing the materials over my arm, then shuffling back over to Ben. "The tights are easy, roll the whole leg down to where you'd put your foot in." I demonstrated the process by showing him how to roll them.

"Mhm..." He hummed, I looked over at him about to say another sentence but realized he was gawking at me.

"Are you even paying attention to anything I'm saying?" I let out a breathy laugh, more annoyed than amused. He yet again smiled while looking down, then shook his head as an answer. I went over the instructions again, forcing him to pay attention this time, once he understood everything I walked to the corner to direct my attention on the wall so he could change into the costume. After a few minutes he gave me approval for turning back around. The white button up was not buttoned up at all, along with not tucked into the black mini flare skirt, the rest seemed fine. I made my way over to him, so I could assist. "Can't you button your own shirt?" I asked, slightly frustrated while folding his collar.

"I mean - I can, but with a pretty thing like you, I'd rather you get it for me." He sure was flirty, and he had what seemed to be no shame. I attempted to roll my eyes with a mean look plastered on my face but failed, ending up still rolling my eyes but with a grin. "I saw that smile." He said with an achieved look playing upon his face. I started buttoning the shirt up, feeling his gaze directly on my face, I was too nervous to look up for I knew we'd lock eyes again.

"Tuck it in." I adjusted the tie and laid it down nicely, then taking a step back to give him space.

"I don't know how to." He said with a fake frown.

"Bye, Ben." I breathed out in my best 'sweet' voice, I didn’t want to deal with him acting stupid in order for me to help him.

"Bye, love." He marveled before tucking the shirt in.

I had helped all 4 men with their 'drag-ish’ costumes, now working as one of the two makeup artists, not having to do this all on my own, luckily. I set up my iPad on the white plastic makeup counter, I used the piece of equipment for notes, references, and scheduling, which helped me due to needing to pull up reference photos for each look. I felt my phone buzz in the pocket of my black apron, notifying me my father just got here, earlier he told me him and Brian would be coming to the studio to help direct some of the scenes and he would text me when he arrived. Soon natural light flooded the room, causing everyone to look over, the two of them entered, stopping to chat some with others. I went about my business, getting all my colors and brushes I needed all set out in an organized fashion. The only thing on the agenda was Joe and Rami, just as looking over the plan I directed my attention to the dressing room hall, watching all four members of the makeshift 'band' walk over to the two booths. I excused myself for a quick second, approaching my father and my non-blood related uncle, embracing both of them with a hug.

"I see you still haven't cut your hair!" I exclaimed to Brian, using my hand to scrunch it ever so lightly.

"I see you still can't shut up about my hair!" He beamed back, earning a laugh from all three of us.

"Well, if you follow me you two can help with the looks or just venture around the set." I reported, then listening to them debate on what to do, they decided to take a look around the studio. I happily walked back to my booth, inviting Joe to sit down in the black spiny chair. "You ready?" I asked him through our reflections.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

After an hour and a half of makeup + a wig, his look was complete, I was pretty proud of myself for I matched him completely to John Deacons original look. He admired himself in awe, then thanked me and walked off to go chat with Roger and Brian. I turned around to grab the disinfecting container for the brushes so I could soak all the used materials. I turned around to call out for Rami so we could get right onto it but I was quickly stopped.

"Ben, get out of the chair, you're with Mescelia." I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms. Both his hands held onto his phone while he focused his gaze down. "Hello? Hardy?" I waved my hand in front of the screen.

"No, you have me." He said lazily without looking up from his phone.

"Oh really? Let's see here." I sassily grabbed the iPad, going to my agenda, placing the technology in front of his face. His eyes slowly scanned it.

"Yeah, right there, Ben Hardy with attachment images." He looked up at me while reciting what was 'said' on the screen. I quickly flipped it over, letting myself see on my own.

"I swear it said Rami not even 2 hours ago."

"I guess someone changed it." He shrugged. It was him, that little fucker. I huffed, this guy was a real pain in my ass. I grabbed the wig from the other station, taking my time to put it on him where it would stay. Every time I looked at his reflection to see what I needed to adjust I always saw him looking at me through the mirror too. Once the wig was secured I added some light foundation for he didn’t need much, using a beauty blender to smooth out the application. I knew making this absolutely perfect would take some time.

Another 2 hours passed, leading me to the final finish, lipstick.

“I have to say, you make a beautiful woman.” I whispered slightly so only he heard me as I concentrated on shaping his lips.

“You’re a beautiful woman. Maybe let this beautiful woman take you out on a date? Beautiful woman to beautiful woman.” He said while barely moving his lips, I looked at him as he looked from my lips to my eyes.

“What happens if I say yes?” I questioned with a sly smirk. What was I even thinking, this guy was frustrating the hell out of me earlier.

“I’ll show you my tits.” He joked, letting out a small laugh.

“You aren’t afraid of what my dad would think?”

“Well are you?”

“I’m afraid for you.” I winked at him after taking the lipstick applicator off his lips.

“So is that a yes?” He asked after rubbing his now pink lips together.

“Let’s see how you do today and then I’ll answer the question.” I gave him a small smile as he stood up, using the arm chairs as support.

“I know it will be a yes.” He called out while strutting away. I rolled my eyes at his annoyingness, yet he was adorable at the same time, especially as a woman.

{TAG LIST // @michael-langdonahs }

MASTERLINK

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor as a girl #roger x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #queen imagines #queen #queen band #rogerina

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Note

aa,,, yes, im a sucker for isward ngl and uh- could I request some isward angst-? (but if you wanna do fluff then thats cool too) im just,, hh ily writing so much,, :>>

Fandom: IBVS by @onebizarrekai

Characters and pairing: Isaac Beamer, Edward Quinton, Drew Jovel, Nevin Jovel, Barry Price, Xavier Jackson, Christopher Jackson, Charlie Jackson, Isward

Warnings: major character death, Blood, angst

Word count: 2,566

Summary: Can the Supernatural Investigation Club figure out what’s been making people disappear?

“Ten people have gone missing in three days. Why has no one but the five of us noticed this?” Isaac muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he stares at the cafeteria, his arms folded over his chest “And that’s just this week. Another twenty have gone missing in the past month.”

“I-I don’t know.” Drew stuttered, pressing a little bit closer to his twin brother and shivering a little, his golden-brown eyes flickering over the rest of the student body “I… A new student transferred to our homeroom a week before the disappearances started.” He’d been pulled into the supernatural club - despite Nevin’s initial protest - due to the other’s healing ability… And the fact that the four of them were kind of terrible at keeping secrets. Well, Edward and Isaac were. Nevin and Barry were better at keeping secrets, though practice.

“But they’re never called on in class. Like - their name is called on for roll call and that’s it.” Nevin rumbled, scooting a bit closer to his brother, trying to shove the clawing paranoia down. “Neither of us can remember their name, even moments after it’s spoken.”

“Hmm… That’s… Really weird. Barry, have you heard any chatter from your contacts who like trying to summon eldritch bullshit that they’ve been up to their shenanigans again?” Edward asked, glancing at his childhood friend, shifting a little and wishing that they were meeting in his secret hideout - but the cafeteria was centrally located and all of them had separate classes after this.

Barry shook his head a little “If they have, no one’s told me about it… I’ll ask a couple of them but… Three of them have gone missing, and their friends don’t seem to remember the people who vanish. It’s like… It’s like when they disappear, they’re erased completely.” Just then, all five of their cellphones went off at the same time.

The five teens blinked and pulled out their phone. The number was 6̥͈͕͓͍͘1̵3͚͍̺͕̼͕̱-̙̞̘͖̦6̡̮̳̥̳4̹̱̘͉9̢̹-̡6͙͍̭̯́4̛̖̱̰̤̦̭4̵̳̹3 to all of them, and it read [Qrngu vf bayl gur ortvaavat. Rira gubhtu guvf vf whfg bar tnzr bs znal. Znlor lbh pna fgbc zr, yvggyr urebrf orsber v jva? Be jvyy lbh snygre naq or qribherq? Abj gur tnzr unf gehyl ortha.]

“Hoookay, so who just sent us a bunch of random bullshit? My phone’s glitching out a little.” Edward grumbled “Did you guys get the same string of nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense.” Drew murmured quickly, glancing around the room, biting his lower lip and quickly wrote something quickly and shoved it at his brother, before pulling out another sheet and starting to write something down on it, pausing after he was done, shaking a little. The others leaned over and…

Nevin swore quietly under his breath and muttered “We need someplace private to talk. Right now.” It was written in cursive… And Spanish, which none of them could read that well. “Delete the message from your phones. At best someone’s fucking with us.”

Edward nodded “I’ll take you to one of the hidden rooms in the school.” He frowned a little, but quickly took the others into his main lair. He turned and demanded to both of the sophmores “Alright, spill.”

“The message was sent to us in ROT-13. I decoded the message and wrote it in Spanish, to decrease the chances of… Whoever sent it to us reading it over my shoulder.” Drew explained, shifting uncomfortably. “It says: Death is only the beginning. Even though this is just one game of many. Maybe you can stop me, little heroes before i win? Or will you falter and be devoured? Now the game has truly begun. … Also only the first letters of each sentence are capitalized - none of the rest of the letters are - including the single I with i win… Which spell out DEMON when put it together.”

“That’s… Kind of fucked up and weird? But that’s not exactly a reason to get all riled out. It could just be someone trying to fuck with us… Although our phones all glitching out at the same time is weird.” Edward responded, shaking his head a little. They needed to focus on the missing people problem - this possibly prank text was something that could be dealt with later.

“Nevin… We forgot someone.” Drew murmured, voice suddenly full of fear, his eyes widening in shock.

“I.. Oh fuck. Chris! I haven’t seen him at all today… Have you?” Nevin hissed, his eyes widening. How could they have possibly forgotten him?

“No, I haven’t… He lives two houses down from us… We should go check up on him while we’re on our way home from school.”

“You’re right - hang on. I’ll text Barry and tell him where we’re going. we’re supposed to meet with him, Isaac and the King of Morons to figure out what sort of creature we might be dealing with. I just wish that they’d take your warning about the text more seriously.” Nevin sighed, shaking his head a little.

They arrived at C̷̯̤͖͈͍̮r̼̖̣̮͓̗͢ó̬̬̖͔̲̮̝s͈̯̮͠ͅṣ̫͝ͅͅ'̳̬s̳̝̳̯͝ home, knocking on the door. A tall stranger answered it, his eyes glowing violet. “We’ve been expecting you.” His voice echoed strangely, and both of the g͞u̴̯͓̣̖a̶r̖̯͓͕̻d͈͈̀i̷͙a̦̘͍n̙͈̩̣͙̹͖ twins immediately fell unconscious.

Edward and Isaac were trying to look up what sort of supernatural creatures who could make you forget their name when it was spoken by someone else. More people had gone missing. Edward stared at a picture of himself and someone who Isaac didn’t recognize, frowning a little “Hey… Ed, what’s wrong?” He leaned against his boyfriend, pressing a light kiss to the other’s cheeks.

“I… I don’t know. I have pictures of this guy - like I’ve known him since I was Geno’s age, at least. But I don’t… I don’t remember him. But he’s important to me… Does that make sense?” Edward answered, confused.

Isaac was about to respond when their phones chimed at the same time, the number was one they didn’t recognize and couldn’t see, their phones glitching so badly. [I HAVE THE LOREKEEPER, THE LIGHT, THE SWORDSMAN, AND THE SHADOW. CAN YOU FIGURE OUT WHAT’S WRONG, PROTAGONISTS? THE OTHER HEROES ARE SUPPLEMENTAL, BUT PERHAPS THE MAIN TWO WILL BE ABLE TO SAVE THEIR PARTY, AND WIN THE DAY.]

“That’s… Fucked up and weird. It’s always just been the two of u-” Edward started, blinking twice as he clutched his head, cursing under his breath as memories suddenly burst forth into his head with the fury of a sledgehammer. Not all of these memories were pleasant.

Isaac stilled, groaning quietly “I… Oh no. They can make us forget our own friends… The… They’ve got…”

“Shit. They’ve got the others. At least I was able to convince my folks to send Geno over to Reuben’s place… Both of the kiddos have powers, and I really fucking hope that Reuben lives far enough away to be out of this bullshit. No matter what the type of demon - which D̯̮̲̘̰̀r͖͙͇̼͕̼e͔̹̙̮a̹̫̖͎ͅm is probably right salt, a religious icon of your choice, and holy water will work to subdue it from everything I’ve read.” Edward growled, a determined expression appearing on his face.

“Which is all well and fine… Except that I don’t believe in any sort of organized religion - the only one of us who might have is Drew, who’s been captured. I’m pretty sure that sort of iconography requires some sort of genuine belief that it will work in order to work.” Isaac murmured, a concerned frown appearing on his face as he crossed his arms. What did he think could stop a demon?

“… Well, fuck. You’re right about that. Salt and holy water it is… Along with my strings to bind the demon in place so we can tell it to fuck off this mortal plane.” Error responded, a determined expression appearing on his face “… And yes, I’m looking up on my phone how to get holy water.”

One quick trip to the local church supply store - which apparently existed, not that they had known that until a quick look up on their phone - they had as much holy water and Purified Salt as they could carry - having managed to somehow sweet talk the store owner into giving them most of it for about ten bucks, the rest was given freely. Not wanting to question their bit of good luck, the pair of them sat down on one of the benches in the park. “Okay… So, we’ve got the stuff… How do we find and fight the demon?” Isaac reflected, a small frown appearing on his face - the sun was just beginning to set, and a sense of urgency was pushing at him. Something awful had happened - and worse was going to continue if they didn’t stop this as soon as possible.

“I… I don’t know. Do you know where C̷̯̤͖͈͍̮r̼̖̣̮͓̗͢ó̬̬̖͔̲̮̝s͈̯̮͠ͅṣ̫͝ͅͅ'̳̬s̳̝̳̯͝ or D͍̞r̘͇̖̭͍͖e̘͓͢a̮̳̮̪̕ͅm̨̖͓͚̩̲ ̴̝͙̘̹̙̣a̱̠n̯͓̘̯̮ͅd̴ ̫̞̰̜̞̕ͅǸ̮i̫̮͘g̮͈̱̫̕h̖̼ṭ̱͍̩̻͟m̲̤a̤̣͙͍̹̣r̯̬̞͓̪̀e̵̲̗̻̞̺̘ͅ live? That might be a good place to start. We already checked Bl͕͇̘̪͕u̹̭͎̯͎e̶̫̦͉̜'͓̭͍͖͘s home and no one lives there right now. It’s like it’s been completely abandoned for years.” Edward asked, shifting a little and trying to keep calm. He was feeling distinctly restless. Were they missing something?

“I… I think I’ve been to Chris’s place before…” Isaac answered with a frown, leaning into his boyfriend, grateful for the other’s steadying warmth. Both of the teens stood up, with Edward following close behind his boyfriend as the other led him to a nondescript looking house.

Edward hesitated for a moment before opening the front door open a crack and taking a peek inside. He cursed quietly and shut it. “So, there are strange, purple symbols glowing everywhere in the inside of that house. It’s really fucked up and spooky looking. Also I’m pretty sure I saw blood splatter and long gouges in some of the walls. But we’ve got friends to save. You ready for this, Isaac?”

Ink nodded, a determined expression appearing on his face “Yes. Let’s kick demon ass. It’s not like we haven’t done that before.” With that the two of them entered the house. Isaac stopped dead as he stared at the symbols - which weren’t in Latin or Greek - or any other ancient, unspeakable tongue. “Great. We’re dealing with some sort of New Demon - or one with a fucked up sense of humor.” he muttered quietly to his boyfriend, rolling his eyes a little. If it weren’t for the weird forgetting his friends thing, he’d have thought this was an elaborate - if kind of shitty - prank.

“Why?” Edward asked, staring nervously at the symbols before keeping his eyes firmly fixed ahead - he didn’t want to lose his sanity by having eldritch symbols burned into his brain or something equally awful “We gotta keep moving, Isaac.”

“Because, the.. The symbols. It’s wingdings. Like the crazy font?” Ink mumbled, frowning a little. Something pressed at the back of his mind. Something very important about the font - why it was much more ominous than it should be, as a joke font.

“Okay, I agree. That’s weird. Maybe the demon we’re dealing with is trying to confuse us to death.” Edward started. He looked like he was about to say more, but was cut off when a blood-curdling scream shattered the tense silence. Both teens sprinted to the door - Edward using a couple of strings to yank the door off of it’s hinges. The stairs leading down to the basement (of course it was a fucking basement) were bathed in more ominous purple light as they ran as quickly as they dared down the tight, rickety steps.

Barry, Drew, and Nevin were tied to the wall, with Chris in the middle of the basement, his hands and feet pinned to the floor with silver daggers, blood still dripping from the wounds. There was some sort of symbol painted beneath him - but neither Isaac nor Edward were focusing enough on that to really tell what it was. Nevin was the only one of the four of them conscious, and a strange, black substance was dripping down his face as he continued to struggle against his bonds, his eyes glowing a furious cyan “LET US GO, YOU MISERABLE OLD FUCK! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO GAIN, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO FUCKING TORTURE US LIKE THIS!”

“On the contrary, I have every right to do so, Ǹ̮i̫̮͘g̮͈̱̫̕h̖̼ṭ̱͍̩̻͟m̲̤a̤̣͙͍̹̣r̯̬̞͓̪̀e̵̲̗̻̞̺̘ͅ. Besides, it’s not as if you have any room to talk, considering…” A tall, stern looking man called out, a dark smirk on his face as he stalked towards the both of them “And you two have arrived, right on schedule. I was wondering if the two of you were going to be late - or try to flee. But I see that allowing you all to form positive social bonds has made catching you so much easier. Come forth and help me, C͏̪̫̫͙h̻̜̪̻̗͙͠a̷̠r̡̻̠̤a̵̼͙̳̤.”

A small, pale spirit rises up from C̛̖̳r̞̙͙͔͍͍o͈̮̳̼̪̠͉s̪̟͓̦͉̻̯s'̮̟̜͔̱́ś̪͍̠ body. It turns to face them, their eyes a bright, glowing red, a strange black substance - not unlike what currently is pouring from Nevin’s back and face - and it hisses “I̪̬̰͎͚̯̼ h̷̯̣͔̼̣ͅͅa̜̥̞̳̣͝t̘̼̥͖̗̬͓e̴͚̰ ̗͍̤͚͟y̳o̦̗̫̣͘ͅu̻̥̹͘ ̺̹̗̝̮ś̜͓̯ó̬̝̻̠͈ m͈͙̙̟͡u͔͚͈̱c̥͍͙͚h̟̣̠͖͍̦,̸̲̘ ͉͇̺̥̘̀G̪͇͔̦̟͔a͍s̷̖̱t̙̦̞̺͖ͅe̼͇̱͇̟͖r̪͓͘!ͅ ̝́I̤̜͇͡ w̙͟i̙l͟l̨͔̝̦̳ ͍̠̱̭͍̟k͖̦̗̺̼̪i̳̻l͓͎͇̫̺̳l̻̜͉ ͍̬̞̯͖̣y͖̜̯͘ou̜!̦͉͍̟"̯̟̩͠ screeching angrily at the man who had called it forth from their friend.

“I don’t care that you hate me, Demon. You are bound to my will, and I command you to kill E̥̞̖̥͔̟̙r̸̹̪͇̫r̬̟̗o͏̼̼̲̣̗̝ŕ̹̮̙̹ ̯̥͢a̮͙͓̙n̳͝d̰͔̱ ͙̺̬I͔̟̗͉n̻̠̜̭̞̩̮k̨̦̞, bringing me their souls. After that take Blue’s soul and then the emotive guardians’ together, as can only be done for them. Cross will be last to be harvested, and then we can begin this experiment anew.” The man ordered, smirking a little as the demon howled in rage, but threw itself at the both of them nonetheless.

Exactly none of the holy water or salt did jack shit to the demon - and as Ink desperately used what little paint he had brought with him to fend off the attacks from the angry spirit that kept throwing itself at him with a relentless determination. He dodged, swiped at them, rolled to avoid another swipe of their knife. “Ed! Do you have Nevin down yet?”

“I’m trying. These cuffs are resisting my strings! I-” Error choked and collapsed, clutching at his chest, his eyes returning to their normal color, before starting to dull. The strange man was standing directly behind him, another glittering, silver knife in his hands, this one stained with bright, fresh blood.

“Edward!” Ink screamed as he raced over to his boyfriend, kneeling down as he desperately tried to shake the other “No… No no no. You… You have to stay with me… P-please you can’t… Y-You can’t die on me now…”

Error coughed wetly, a weak smile on his face “Hey… ‘s okay… We fought him hard… Jus… Just go… I think he has to kill us all or it won’t work… R-Run… Love… F-For me?”

“No! I won’t leave you…Leave our friends to die! I… I’ll-” Ink’s eyes had a manic gleam as he used his paint as a barrier to block both the man and the tiny DEMON’s attacks “I’ll kill them both, and find a way to save everyone. I-I will!”

The man chuckled as he raised something in his hands “So predictable.” something clicked in the man’s hands, and Isaac’s world went dark, Edward’s weak “Noo!” and Nevin’s loud cursing the last thing he heard as the shadows stole his sight, his body limp and numb.

#my writing #angst #major character death tw #blood tw #cursing tw #isward #Isaac Beamer #Edward quinton #nevin jovel #Drew Jovel #Christopher jackson #Charlie jackson #Xavier Jackson #Barry Price #bad end

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magallanica · 5 years

Text

sugar rush

in which the paladins make a quick stop at earth, lotor tries hot chocolate, and keith gets a long overdue gay awakening.

written for keitorsecretsanta

a/n: hello @parslynne, i’m your secret santa, i hope you like this fic!! i tried to fit in the stuff on your wishlist, but i think it turned out more gen than shippy, sorry >_<

happy holidays!

—

earth, lotor thinks, is a very small planet. it’s a wonder how the empire hasn’t crushed it yet, given how behind it is in terms of technology development, if the paladins’ amazement at galra machinery is anything to go by. he is wise enough to keep these thoughts to himself though, as they are briefed on a new mission in the main bridge.

the instructions are simple — mingle with the population, gather intel, find out if the leaders are willing to form an alliance, and maybe plant a few surveillance drones around if the opportunity arises.

“well,” pidge scoffs, and lotor does not need to look to know that she is pushing her spectacles up the bridge of her nose, “alliance talks might take a while, unless the united states has a new president.” lance and hunk both make a face at this, “and they’ll have to contact and discuss this with the leaders of all the other countries as well, so i think we’ll have plenty of time to mingle!” she smiles with barely-concealed glee.

“you are not run by a single government?” he finds himself asking, and gets treated to an extensive lecture on earth’s politics, not that lotor minds, of course. he’ll need all the help he can get to manage an empire that refuses to acknowledge him as its leader. the conversation soon derails to other things, like supplies and clothing. the paladins are scandalised when they realise that lotor’s idea of casual wear is simply just his flight suit, but with less armor.

“that’s it,” lance decides, “we’re going shopping.”

—

shopping, lotor thinks, is probably more trouble than it’s worth. they make it to the mall relatively unscathed, save the occasional stares and questions about his ‘cosplay’ that confuse him to no end. his ears are natural, thank you very much. so is his skin, and — “why do they think i’m wearing a wig?” he frowns, as lance makes a very valiant effort to not, in his own words ‘lose his shit’. lotor still doesn’t know what excrement has to do with laughing, but he chalks it up as one of those ‘earthling’ things that he will perhaps never comprehend. even keith, the former red paladin, looks amused at his plight, lips twitching in amusement as lotor ducks away from yet another round of staring passers-by.

“here,” pidge hands him a small, flat compact, filled with some sort of peach-coloured powder. lotor prods at it curiously. “use this. it’ll help you mask the colour of your skin,” she explains.

now this, he understands. while it has been relatively well-established that he is an ally of the coalition (although many of them are not too happy about it, if the wary, borderline hostile, glances shot at him say anything), his appearance would only serve to garner them attention, and that was the least of the things they wanted to deal with right now.

(he does not know how old the paladins are in galra years, but he does know that most of them are still children, thrust into the middle of a conflict none of them should have been involved in. this break would be good for them.)

they are dressed in what appears to be casual earthen attire — terribly unsuitable for combat, but then again, lotor supposes, there is no need for that at the moment. lotor is handed a large top, something hunk calls a ‘sweater’. he tugs it on, examining the stitching with visible curiosity. it is much unlike the form-fitting fabric used to make their combat suits, or the sturdier fabric of their armor.

the weather on earth, he soon realises, is a lot more unpredictable than on any other planet he’s visited — and he’s been alive for hundreds of decaphoebs. the wind today, in particular, is terribly strong, and he winces as his hair whips around his face, obstructing his vision as he follows the group down the city streets. pidge, lance and hunk take the lead easily, with the green paladin chattering excitedly about finally getting some “good fucking food”. lotor fails to see how… intercourse, of all things, is related to food. it must be another one of their earthling things, he decides, pulling his hair up into a much more manageable ponytail.

—

keith likes to think that he is a good person. he pays his (figurative) taxes, eats his alien veggies, does his best on missions… so what on earth did he do to deserve two years of repressed teenage hormones slamming into him like a freight truck when he watches lotor sweep his hair back into a tight ponytail. he swallows, feeling like it’s suddenly much too hot in his coat, despite the chilly winds buffeting them every few steps.

(and then, the memory of their only interaction replays in his head. specifically, the exact moment keith had tackled lotor to the ground in order to save him from getting caught up in an explosion. even more specifically — of how they had been pressed together for those few seconds, and how the way his heart had sped up might not be entirely because of the situation they were in.)

oh, he thinks, with growing dread, oh no.

is this some sort of delayed galra puberty thing? he wonders, and makes a note to ask krolia about it later. he’s dealt with enough human puberty shit, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with galra puberty, if it’s even a thing.

they make a stop at a cafe to grab some hot chocolate. “we’ll go on ahead first — there’s no hot topic here, sorry keith,” lance snickers, throwing an arm over hunk as they head back out into the cold, while pidge eyes him, and then lotor, calculatively, like he’s a gadget she’s trying to tinker with. keith does not like that look. not one bit. he resolves to keep a close eye on her, just in case.

he turns his attention to his companion. aside from the tips of his ears, lotor looks like a perfectly regular human. he eyes the cup of hot chocolate in front of him with undisguised curiosity, blowing cautiously at it before taking an experimental sip. then he takes another. and another, looking absolutely starstruck. oh no, keith thinks, that’s cute.

lotor continues to sip at his hot chocolate, completely unaware that keith is probably, in pidge terms — astral projecting, as they drink. with nothing else to do, they make stilted conversation, and it is only when keith asks a tentative question about galran customs that the ice between them is broken completely. lotor comes to life before him, his eyes practically sparkling as he speaks of social norms and etiquette — less bloodthirsty things that the galra were known for. it’s terribly endearing, keith realises.

there is something different about talking to lotor, now that they’re on the same side of the war. questions spill out faster than his filter can stop them, and he finds himself listening avidly as tales of his galra ancestors fill the space between them.

all in all, their trip back to earth has been fruitful, he thinks, as they’re walking back to their lodgings together, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other as lotor leans down to tell keith about the galra equivalent of something on the streets.

(unseen by them, pidge chances a glance back, and smiles.)

—

#vld #keitor #keitorsecretsanta #scribbles on the sand #lokei

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bigsquinky · 5 years

Photo

quick sketches from a shapiro and mulligan alien au ::3c i wrote something too for this scene. I dont write stuff very often so its rough but i will put it under the cut here

the storage corridor was dimly lit, sparks from exposed wires lighting the way down the destroyed passage. the alamanium steel doors were crushed, thrust open unnaturally with an inhuman force that rendered them useless. all the way down to the end, large dents and ruptures could be seen along the walls, identical to the ones leading back down the main hall.

Shapiro was not happy. Not happy at all

she had been away for just a moment, something to do with confirmation for a shipment or going over some trivial documents, nothing out of the ordinary of what usually happened during the day. a lot was expected of her, but there was no way she could supervise training cadets, overseeing daily maintenance, and everything else in their quadrant of the ship. she was only gone for the smallest moment, but thats all that was needed for everything to go wrong. a large crash echoed from the training bay, followed by the audible screaming of a few cadets, as well as, oddly enough, the odd roars of cheering.

whatever ruckus had occurred while she was gone left the bay in shambles, large craters on the ceiling and the walls, lights and equipment broken, everything would have to be replaced, everything brought back to code. it was going to be a bureaucratic nightmare. oh, and that one cadet would have to be taken to the emergency wing. but he was the least of Shapiros worries at the moment, he would be fine anyways, Grutians were known to be virtually indestructible, if anything, only his pride was wounded.

No, Shapiro's worries were down that busted up supply hall, and as the appointed quadrant manager, she needed to bring everything back to efficiency quickly, before more reports would be required. A large group of cadets and employees gathered behind her in the hall, all murmuring in fright and surprise at what was happening. Shapiro clicked at her belt and put a regulatory protection field between her and the crowd, preventing them from moving any closer into the supply hall. the frantic chattering of a cockroach in a labcoat was heard coming closer to the scene of the mess, as O'Reilly banged on the field, his muffled pleas to Shapiro to wait for an armoured squad fell on deaf ears. It was her responsibility, and this mess was going to be fixed, even if she had to make another one.

She made her way down that hall, mentally preparing herself for the struggle that could happen. From day one, that cadet only got in trouble, and caused her trouble. She thought that keeping him on probation would solve at least some of her problems. its not like he was doing any of this on purpose, but this Cadet Mulligan seemed to attract trouble wherever he went. It was everyone else that seemed to have problems with him, stemming from eons old beliefs in superstitions that beings like him were considered cursed, or biological mistakes. she at least knew how it felt to be looked down upon, being Atharian meant that from birth she had to work harder than most to even get to where she was now, but she still had more of a privilege than the cadet did, even if he was half Arachnian. But because Shapiro worked so hard and gave up so much to get where she was, it jsut meant it could be torn away from her so much easier, her higher ups were just waiting for her to fail, giving her all of this work knowing full well not even the most able of commanders could not complete what she managed to in a day, and she knew it. Despite all her successes, all she needed was one slip up, and it could come crumbling down beneath her. She could not afford to show weakness in a time like this, not again. not ever. she reached the end of the hall, and pushed the big storage room door open

to say it was a mess was an understatement. Shapiro could barely creak the door open enough to squeeze through with the large shelf of various supplies toppled over in disarray. the only light in the room from the working emergency lights lit the clutter in a dim, cold blue light. She quietly navigated the maze of toppled over supplies and stock, taking expert caution to make her presence in the room unknown. if one did not know about the events leading up to this mess, one would assume the ship had made course through an asteroid belt. Shapiro's pointed ears perked up as she finally heard the source of her troubles. Mulligan was there

Shrouded in the darkness, he was hard to make out. Shapiro squinted, as hard as the emergency lights tried to do their job, they were beyond overdue for repair after the beating they took today. What she could make out of his figure however, broke Shapiro into a cold sweat. Finally, she clued into the seriousness of the situation she put herself into, wishing in the back of her mind that she did listen to O'Reilly, although she would never admit he was right if she ever got out of here

Even though he was sitting, he towered over her, his head short of hitting the ceiling. the once recognizable Atharian frame that he had donned was gone, instead a colossal figure grunted and snarled, writhing in confusion as his he tried in vain to reconstruct himself. he panted heavily, clutching his head with two large arms, while four other appendages scratched at his body and braced himself to the steel storage case. Mulligan twisted and contorted but to no avail, a large fist slammed into the wall behind him, leaving a large dent. Shapiro silently stared petrified, her breath ragged. She attempted to shuffle herself backwards and out of there without being noticed, a hand moving slowly to her belt for a plasma taser, in case she needed to defend herself, but instead she misstepped, her foot knocking a small provisions can into a panel, causing the latter to reverberate, and her presence to be known

Mulligan stopped and jerked his head unnaturally towards the sound, breathing heavily, his face partially blocked by his arm. Shapiro froze, and their eyes locked. Mulligan's expression changed from a look of fury, to distress, as he let out a booming cry. he shifted back into the dark as far as he could go, his back against the wall. His breathing was rapid, with a look of horror on his face, it was like he was a scared animal backed into a corner. Crying out in a foreign tongue, what sounded like a plethora of backwards wailing to Shapiro, Mulligan's arms frantically moved into a defensive position, and attempted to cover his face. He continued to wail as Shapiro got off the floor and steadied herself, cautiously moving closer towards the creature. Mulligan tried in vain to move further back and away, but he could not move anymore, his large form made it impossible to break out of this corner. His breathing quickened, and his speech became broken and more unintelligible as he choked back tears. He violently flinched as Shapiro brought up her hand to her scouter, combing through old catalogues of alliance data to find translation as to what the cadet was saying. The scouter laboured for what seemed to be an eternity before it made a cheerful beep as it finally calculated a basic translation of the cacophony. Mulligan continued to cry out in panic as Shapiro finally read what he had been saying this whole time

" GO AWAY! AWAY FROM ME! MONSTER! AM MONSTER!"

the script had scrolled across the screen multiple times as Shapiro stood there in silence. Mulligan closed his eyes as he continued to shake and repeat the devastating message. His fingers dug deep into his face as all the sounds around him started turning into static, letting out one last painful cry before he quickly stifled himself in a swift jolt. His eyes shot open, his breathing ragged, as he looked down and saw a small purple hand lightly touching at his knee

Shapiro sat up tall, facing away from Mulligan with her hand on him, her three fingers slightly stroking and patting his thigh. He brought a quivering hand down, dwarfing her hand as he gently brought it into his. Shapiro continued to look straight forward, as Mulligan's breathing slowed and became controlled, his shoulders relaxed, and he slowly leaned forward away from the wall, and the two sat in silence

She waited a while, before she finally spoke. "Mulligan, what happened?" He sat there. Shapiro repeated herself in the same unwavering but quiet tone. "Mulligan, what happened?" Mulligan swallowed, his entire body still shivering. "It-It-It happened so fast, I couldn-couldn't stop- I just-" "Mulligan, what happened in the training bay while I was gone?" Shapiro didnt want to escalate things, but she had to get Mulligan to talk before a security squad busted through that temporary field. Mulligan stammered. "It-it-it was Giraldi. He came up to me, saying it was my fault he was taken off the scouting mission. He-he slammed me against the wall, I didnt do nothin', I just took it until-" He paused "-'til he brought up YOU." "Me?" Shapiro finally turned slowly to look up at mulligan, the faint blue glow partly illuminating his face. His expression darkened, his fangs were bared and a low growl escaped his lips. "He said shit that was deplorable, about Atharians, about you, that it was beneath him as a Grutian to take orders from a bug. Disgusting shit about what he could do and no one would stop him, and he called you, he called you a-" Mulligan's grip on Shapiro's hand tightened. She let out a small yelp as Mulligan gasped and pulled his hand away "IM SORRY!! Im sorry-im so sorry i-". Shapiro grabbed his hand with both of hers this time. She looked at him intently, her spots glowing faintly revealed the makings of a pained expression, the first time she had bared any resemblance of feelings to anyone since that time. She took his hand and rested her forehead on it, as Mulligan's breathing calmed down. Mulligan exhaled. "Af-After that, I lost it. i lost control, i could only see red as i flung him around that room. When i remembered what was happening and where i was, I freaked out and ran off here. I got, so scared that what happened last time was gonna happen again, i had to calm down fast, but i couldnt! i was still so upset about everything, and then-" He stopped. He turned his head to look at Shapiro, his purple, polycoria eyes the only thing visible in the shadows. "Im so sorry, Lieutenant Commander"

Shapiro closed her eyes, and exhaled, still keeping her grip on Mulligan's hand. "Whats done is done, Cadet. We cant change that. I dont know what will be decided by the Commander, or if a higher council will be brought in but-" She smiled slightly "- i thank you for standing up for me, Mulligan" She felt Mulligan's hand shrink in her own, and felt the growth of another finger, until it finally slowed, and he locked his fingers with hers. She looked up at him, his form back to that of a fake Atharian, and a tired smile on his face. His two eyes, once four, while displaying no signs of his metamorph mutation, are slightly red. "Thank you Shapiro." She smiled back. "Dont thank me just yet, someone will have to clean up this entire mess!" Mulligan chuckled, and the both of them walked out of the storage hall, still holding each others hands.

#my art #sketches #shapiro and mulligan #alien au #my writing #lmao its a lot but i got into it :3c

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sidespromptblog · 6 years

Text

Sick

(I requested the anon)

Crush, Isolation, Home, Silence/Solitude

The very moment that Apathy opened his eyes he knew that it was going to be an absolutely awful day for him.

His throat felt like he had simultaneously swallowed razor blades and then washed them down with a nice pint of lemon juice mixed with saltwater to add a nice stinging burn to it every time he swallowed. Laying on his bed only even made him feel worse too, it was all lumpy as if someone had filled his mattress with uneven rocks during the night and had thought that he wouldn’t notice. On top of the fact that he felt way too hot for his own good, even his simple sheet was too much for him, and he was already sweating buckets of sweat, his main comforter kicked onto the floor sometime in the night.

He swallowed instinctively, and already he had to fight down a whimper of pain as he got up. The moment that he stood up tossing the sheet from his sweaty skin, Apathy felt a chill descend over him, and just like that he was freezing cold as he rubbed his bare arms.

“No short sleeve shirt today.” He blandly mumbled to himself, wincing at faint raspy huskiness of his own voice, peeling the grey worn shirt off. Apathy tossed it to the side, he didn’t have to look over there to know that it had vanished just like everything did when he no longer wanted it around.

It took a lot longer than he would have liked to summon his new shirt, as the chronic pain deep inside of his itching burning throat was a constant distraction for him. So when the warm soft long sleeve shirt finally appeared into his hands Apathy wasted no time slipping it on immediately, the pitch blackness of it was a tad bit different than his usual pale style and it did make his skin look a little bit more unhealthily pale. However, for the warmth that it gave him, it was something that was well worth it. So now, rubbing his hands up and down his covered arms, he felt his back relax, although his aching muscles certainly didn’t.

Perhaps breakfast would help.

One pair of plain grey slippers later on top of a pair of woolen socks, Apathy eventually made his way down the stairs, where chattering could be heard from the other sides as they served themselves at the dinner table. Of course, Patton had cooked again, the smell of bacon and syrupy french toast with a side of eggs would have smelled great any other day. However, today, Apathy felt his stomach roll in revulsion at the smell, nevertheless, he sat down at the end of the table sticking two pieces of french toast with his fork as well as a slice of bacon. Not that he’d be able to taste it anyway.

“Apathy...you okay kiddo?” It was Patton who noticed the sickly pallor of their newest guest, as Apathy just stood there just outside of the dining room before eventually joining them at the table. He didn’t look like he was enjoying breakfast too much, as he slowly cut his food up taking the smallest of bites before visibly wincing as he swallowed.

“I-” Apathy quickly snapped his mouth shut, as the memory of his scratchy voice came back to him, it would be a dead give away to someone like Patton. So quickly he instead nodded his head, feeling something curdling in his stomach...was it? No that was impossible, there was no way that it could be that. Especially not over something so small.

“Nah Pat, he’s just a little salty that he doesn’t look as good as me in black.” Virgil playfully smirked back at Apathy, clearly teasing the other as he went on. “I’ve got style, him...not so much.”

That was it.

A sniffle broke Virgil’s little smirk right in half as his head snapped over to Apathy no longer looking at Patton or Roman anymore, as his expression morphed into one of sheer horror.

Tears slowly trickled down Apathy’s face, no matter the effort that the other made to try and wipe them away. His breathing shuddered again and again, as if he just couldn’t get in enough oxygen as the tears continuously streamed down his face like a river of saltwater and regret.

Oh dear… Logan’s voice gingerly murmured in his ear, but even that sounded incredibly distorted and warbled. Like a layer of cotton was pressing against his ears, it muffled even the sound of Virgil’s chair scraping against the floor. This isn’t supposed to happen. I’m Apathy, I’m not supposed to feel, I’m not supposed to cry, and I’m not supposed to let this happen! I’m Apathy! He repeated this over and over to himself, and yet it didn’t help the building emotions that laid themselves on his chest like a massive cinder block. His stomach churned from all of it, swirling around and around like one massive tornado of mistakes. When he felt the warm touch, suffocatingly warm, one on his shoulder and the other on his forehead. It was too warm..too warm!

“Pat, he’s got a fever!” Virgil cursed to himself, of course, Apathy was sick. When Roman got sick had his creative blocks, and even his personality seemed to do a complete change of itself. He’d never seen Patton sick before, but Logan...Logan reacted just about the same as Apathy was.

“Get him to his room Virge, I’ll..I’ll get him something right away.” Patton worriedly mumbled, shooting Roman a thankful look as the creative side grasped Apathy instead, easily lifting the usually emotionless side up into his arms like some princess. Apathy, in turn, sniffled again, the tears lessoning now as he sloppily wrapped his arms around Roman’s shoulders.

“My prince…” Apathy slurred, his head thumping against Roman’s chest, making the prince in question worriedly share a look with Virgil as he carefully climbed the steps.

“Thanks.” He whispered to Virgil, as the anxious side kept the door open, neatly tucking Apathy into his bed once Roman laid him down on the lumpy bed. Summoning one of his own feathery soft blankets, that was a stark red in contrast to the rest of the blank and washed out room. Roman smoothly covered Apathy up, waiting by his side as Virgil placed a cool cloth on Apathy’s forehead.

After a while, Patton’s footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, in tow he carried a platter of saltine crackers and a container of warm chicken broth.

“Hey, there kiddo.” Patton warmly smiled down at Apathy, getting a mere whine in return as Patton soaked the washcloth again reapplying it after having set the food on Apathy’s nightstand.

“Pattie…” Patton felt himself stiffen almost instantly at Logan’s rare and yet beloved nickname for him. “I don’t feel good.” A tender smile curled onto his lips as he sat himself down next to the emotionless side, before he brought his lips down on Apathy’s feverish forehead.

“Don’t worry,” Patton murmured, “We’re all here to take care of you.”

Tagged:

@neko-ereri

@seas-space-and-stardust

@estraevelyn

@katatles-the-fish

@greeneggsandham1998

@ibelievewhatsontv

@sleepyssnail

@thats-so-crash

@serious-ppl-wear-neckties

@secretlyanxiouspersona

@nerd-in-space

@blue-wolfbane

@cats-vetal-miking-vomit

@ab-artist

@moonstonefox12

@echomist13

@goofigami

@temmiecupcake

@nyamafriend

@cyberpunkjinx

@noahlovescoffee

@iaminmultiplefandoms

@entpscarleharrrr

#apathy!logan #apophis #apep #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sickfic #when apathy gets sick he feels stuff

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softchenlele · 6 years

Text

dreams and roses; a woozi scenario

style: bulletpoint

genre: slightly supernatural fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1,7k

main author: kitty

a/n: this was absolutely unplanned but it sparked in my head today so im writing it before i forget!!!

it’s summer and seventeen, being young boys yearning for adventure, decided to have a camping slash road trip in europe

so there they are, going around europe from poland to spain

setting out camp and having fun around the bonfire

one day as they travel between germany and france they decide to stop in a small town to stock up on food and necessities and basically spend the day here

as vernon and seungkwan were coming back from the market they hear children talking about a witch in the woods?

the exact same woods they’re camping next to

the kids were talking about visiting her sometime

vernon was kinda intrigued by the children’s babbling and seungkwan thought witch seeking could be a good team building adventure

so guess what they talk about over lunch?

yep

get in losers, we’re going to find a witch!!

they ask the kids how to find “miss witch”

“she said you gotta follow the nature’s flow!!”

uhhh ok thats very vague

but then jeonghan points out that there’s a small river flowing from the forest down to the valley and the children just smile knowingly

following the river upstream it is.

as they hike up the woods, chattering playfully and playing with each other, jihoon can’t help but wonder what they will find, if they even find something

fifteen minutes later, to his surprise, they actually do find something

they end up in a clearing in the middle of the woods

the river comes from over a five meter cliff, pooling into a little lake below

and next to the lake is a cottage, not built for more than two people but so well maintained that it almost looks like someone lives here

seungcheol and soonyoung circle the house, checking if there’s anyone, while the others play a bit in the lake

jihoon just walks around, taking in the scenery. that place just radiates peace and serenity, a kind of otherworldly calm

and is it just him or are the flowers peeking at him somehow...?

no no no jihoon wtf it’s time to cut down on coffee and sleep whole nights you’re imagining things about flowers now

but it’s really intriguing to him

since they found no one, the boys go back to their camp, having seen no witch but having spent a nice afternoon

jihoon can’t really sleep so he sneaks out of his tent and goes back to the river, following the stream quietly to the clearing, watching the moon

but then

he sees someone on a rock next to the lake??

the long hair lets him think it’s a woman, she’s just dipping her feet in the water

he freezes in place

he really didn’t think there would be someone??

“hey, didn’t i tell you kids not to come at night? your parents will worry”

did she speak to him? he didn’t show himself though

after a few beats of silence, she turns her head and stares straight at him and jihoon gulps

“you’re... not a child”

thx captain obvious now are u gonna turn me into a frog??

he’s positively freaking out by now but still silent

she stands up, and he swears he sees a gust of wind drying her feet, what the heck

she puts her sandals back on and hops off the rock, walking towards him

she asks for his name, but the only thing he can stutter back is are you a witch?

and then she laughs, a crystalline sound echoing off the water

“no, god no, do i look like one? if i were one you’d be cursed already!!”

but then jihoon thinks that maybe he has, seeing how he’s rooted in place and can’t seem to take his eyes off her

“i’m y/n, and i’m a fairy, not a witch!”

at that he just chokes on air. she doesn’t even look like she’s lying

he tells her his name and she looks at him curiously before asking why he’s here

“that’s a bit,,, difficult to explain? i came here with my friends this afternoon and there was no one??”

“i know that. but why did you come back?”

how did she know???

he explains how he wanted to see this place again

how he’s a singer, writing songs for his group, and how the clearing struck something in him

she nods and whistles a few notes to something behind him

“what are you doing??”

“i’m thanking the birds for warning me of your presence!”

at this point jihoon is entirely lost. are all europeans like that?? what the heck is up with this one???

“you what???”

“i thanked the sparrows. they told me twice today that i had guests, unfortunately i was with the foxes the first time”

is she crazy

“wait hold up. have you lost your mind?? what is this all about???”

she definitely is

she lives alone in the forest, talking to birds and spending days with foxes?? what kind of person does that??!

she doesn’t answer and grabs his hand, leading him in the forest. she stops in front of a burrow, where a family of foxes can be seen.

his jaw almost drops right to the floor

the mother looks sick and the babies are small and sickly thin

she’s been taking care of them

he starts to review his judgement of her

maybe she’s a biologist a bit too caught up into her fantasy

but when she touches the mother fox’s nose and her fingertip glows, he’s back at square one: total incomprehension

“she’s doing good. she’s almost healed!! and she says that the human, you, is allowed to touch her babies!”

he doesn’t even try to think and extends a trembling hand to one of the baby foxes and pets it

y/n and the mother fox are watching him intently and after some time, he withdraws his hand

y/n then bids goodbye to the foxes and brings him back to the clearing

he’s about sure by now that she’s the real deal

a real, live fairy

she asks if he wants to stay some more. he looks a bit shaken internally so she suggests her number one calming activity: stargazing

which he accepts immediately because to be honest he could use some chill

they climb up a tree and she starts pointing stars to him, but he’s not paying attention

“are you always this welcoming to strangers?”

“are you always this accepting to the idea of superatural”, she quips back, more to make him react than anything.

he thinks about it for a second

“to be honest, i’m pretty sure i’m dreaming right now. this is the oddest night of my life but it doesn’t feel wrong or false, so there’s only that option left”

“maybe it’s not.” and on that she climbs down the tree, surprising jihoon, but he’s still quick to follow her

he really doesn’t want to lose sight of the biggest mystery of that night

she goes inside the cottage and he stays on the doorstep, marveling at all the books, potted plants and little pouches of various seeds and flowers

they look like the lavender pouch his mom brought back from a trip once, which she put among his clothes to give them a nice flowery scent

y/n comes back with a piece of raw blue stone he recognizes as something like kyanite, held by a fine silver chain tied around it

“maybe if you come back with a souvenir, you’ll understand it’s not a dream. this is a lucky charm, it will help you focus when you need it and turn the odds in your favor. for a creative person, this is great, isn’t it?”

she smiles at him and he lets her drop the jewel into his hands, gingerly letting out a small “thanks” in return

he didn’t know what to think

she looks at an old clock and remarks how late it has gotten

he didn’t feel time pass either but he knows he should get back to the guys, so he tells her he needs to leave

she nods and goes right past him to the white rose plant along the wall, plucks a flower bud, and whispers some words jihoon can’t quite catch to it

it slowly blooms between her fingers, her fingertips starting to glow white again, and he’s simply mesmerized

she turns back to him and tucks it in one of the button holes of his shirt, smiling softly

“this is just a gift from me to you. hopefully, you’ll figure out how it works soon”

he says goodbye and his mind is empty during the way down

he really doesn’t know what happened

the next day, he acts like nothing happened, hides the forever blooming rose and pretends he bought the kyanite necklace earlier

jihoon was just laying on his bed, fidgeting with a blue stone necklace when the murmuring started again

he had a rough day at the studio, his lyrics just wouldn’t come out

and every time it happened the flower y/n gave him would murmur like it was trying to speak

he grabbed his notebook and thought back to that evening

his pen flew over the pages like it was natural

and before he knew it his song was here in his hands

it ended up being their title track

a story about unforgettable nights and a dream-like, eerie girl

he’s really proud of it

but the flower kept on whispering from time to time, he didn’t know why

one day where the flower was particularly chatty (?), he put it to his ear

what heard caught him completely off guard

it was the voice of the person he met that night

y/n’s

it was mixed with children’s voices, he figured the kids did go visit her in the end

he waited for the children to leave and then called her name once tentatively

a few seconds later, the same crystalline laugh answered him

“it took you long enough! but i’m glad you didn’t throw the rose away!”

he couldn’t believe it

she had given him a fairy phone???

a chuckle escaped his lips at her response

“i did!! of course, i do have a cell phone, but where would have the fun been in me just giving you my number?”

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quileuteima-blog · 7 years

Text

The new guy

Part 1

My writing is a bit rough in this I'm sorry, but ill try get Part 2 up within the next week hopefully <3

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Paul x male reader

Requests:

-Imagine Paul Lahote and Embry Call both secretly crushing hardcore on the same guy, which probably strains their close friendship somewhat -Imagine being a new guy in town who Paul imprints on, which shocks him because he's never been attracted to guys before

--I’ve set this in a school which i realise doesn't go with canon as they left school after they phased but lets pretend thats not the case lol thanks

You see the high school getting closer as you walk along the sidewalk, bag slung over your shoulder and earphones filling your head with music to try block out nervous thoughts. However, as you got closer you couldn’t help but think how glad you will be when the day is over, first days at new schools are always the worst. Especially the school you’re starting at isn’t the biggest so it’s likely all that most of the students know each other, making you stand out even more. You sigh as you walk through the high school grounds, you can feel a few people look at you but you keep your eyes focused on the main entrance in front of you.

A chatty and kind member of staff at the front office gave you your books, class times, and a speech, about how welcoming the school, so detailed that you are now fifteen minutes to your first class. “Do you want me to show you to your classroom?” she elder lady asked smiling at you, “I don’t mind finding it myself, but thank you.” you smiled back at her before turning towards the door into the corridor “Have a nice day” you turned to the staff member that helped you “you too!” she replied as you closed the door behind you. You were already late so you figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt whilst you found your way around the school. You realised you didn't even know where you were meant to be going, you looked at the sheet in your hand which showed you had math ‘great’ you sighed under your breathe whilst you walked down the corridor looking for the class number.

It only took your 5 minutes to find the class. You knocked on the closed door and waited for the teacher on the other side to open it, you saw through the small window the man who would be teaching you math and he didn’t look too pleased when he heard the knocking. You ran your hand through your hair and rested it on your neck as you waited, when the door opened your slipped your hand down and held it out to shake your new teachers hand. The man’s expression softened as he saw your face, he must’ve realised you were the new guy. The teacher looked down and saw your hand extended, he gave you a warm smile and shook your hand, seems like your manners may have saved you a lecture about being late. “You must be y/n?” the teacher asked, you nodded your head. “Nice to meet you, I’m Mr. Andreou.” he said before turning to face the class “Everyone this is y/n” your eyes wandered over the bored faces sat in the room. Your gaze fell on a guy who sat at the back of the room, he was slouched in his chair, watching you with a vacant expression. Not that you were expecting a welcoming party, but this guy looked at you as if he were un-impressed or somehow even pissed off. “Y/n there’s empty desk in the middle over there, feel free to sit down.” you broke eye contact with the guy at the back and looked at Mr. Andreou whose hand gestured for you to sit at the empty desk. You pulled your bag off your shoulder as you walked to the desk, dropping it next the chair. As you turned to sit down you briefly looked back over to the guy at the back, who was still watching you. Great, you thought to yourself, he’s probably pissed because I’m the new guy and he’ll give me the whole warning about staying away from the chicks; because for some reason new guys are magnets for girls. This guy will be glad to know that you weren’t even interested in girls that way.

The teacher spoke about Pythagorus theorem for the time that was left of the lesson. However, you didn’t concentrate fully as you focused on working out where you needed to get for your next lesson, Physical education. Plus you had missed the majority of this lesson anyway so it didn’t matter if your attention wasn't fully on task.

The harsh bell signifying the end of period rang out, causing the class to collectively feel relieved from the stress of Math. Mr Andreou sighed in frustration, “...it seems I’ll have to cut off my lecture about pythagorus, but we’ll continue it in next lesson.” A guy sitting somewhere behind you cheered sarcastically and everyone began collecting their bags and leaving the classroom for next lesson. You stood up from your chair and grabbed your bag, placing it on your desk whilst you packed all your stationary in. You felt a tap on your shoulder “Hey, have you got Phys ed next?” a voice asked from behind you, the same voice that cheered a few seconds earlier. “Yeah” you turned to face the guy behind you “Cool that means you’re in our class then, wanna walk with us so you’re not late this time?” he grinned, gesturing to two boys talking next to him. “Sure, thanks” you smiled back. You swung your bag over your shoulder and began walking out the class with the boys you just met. “I’m jared by the way” he introduced himself whilst you walked next to each other down the corridor “this is Paul and Embry” he turned to refer at the two guys walking behind you “hey” you turned to smile at them both, Paul was the guy who gave you the strange look when you came into class. “I’m y/n” you said turning back to face in front. “Do you have any sports kit with you?” Jared asked walking round a corner into the next corridor, “Not yet” you replied following him round the corner and down the corridor which led to a doorway outside. “I’ve got some spare shorts” Embry said from behind you “and I’ve got a spare top” Jared added. “Are you guys sure? Thanks” you turned to smile at them as you all walked on a path between the main school building and the sports field. “Sure, no problem. Saves you having to wear lost and found kit that hasn't been washed in years” Embry said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of the smelly clothes. You looked down at your feet, which were tied inside converse sneakers “Do you reckon i will get away with wearing these?” you turned to ask them, pointing down at your shoes. “Yeah, normally the coach is an asshole about uniform, but you’re the new kid he won’t be strict with you yet.” Paul said bluntly, briefly meeting your eyes before something on the field caught his attention. “The changing rooms are over here” Embry said leaning on your shoulder and pointing to the small building in front to your right.

You placed your bag down on the bench in front of you in the changing rooms. “Here” Jared called out over the loud chatter filling the room, and a top with the school logo flew into your chest. “Thanks” you caught the tshirt and smiled at him. “So why did you move here?” Paul asked whilst you took your hoodie off “I just moved here from a different city” you said, your voice slightly muffled by fabric as you pulled your top off over your head and put in your bag. You picked up the spare top Jared gave you and turned it the right way round. You looked up at Paul, who was changing at the bench opposite you, catching his gaze wander up your torso before briefly meeting your eyes and quickly looking away. You watched Paul as turned to face his gym bag with a frown and his hand running through his hair irritably. You didn't get why your presence seems to piss him off so much. “How long have you been in town?” he asked clearing his throat, his eyes still staying on his bag whilst you pulled your top on. “I,uh, got here this weekend” you said pushing your arms through the sleeves and pulling them hem of the top down. “Oh so only like 2 or 3 days then? Have you seen much yet?” Jared asked turning to face you “Oh! I’ll find the shorts for you” he suddenly remembered and began digging around in his bag. “Not really, obviously there’s the national park and I heard there’s a beach with decent waves” you replied, placing your foot up on the bench and untying your laces. “Yeah La Push. We have parties and bonfires there, and we surf when we can” Embry said pulling shorts out his bag and throwing them to you “Next time we go you’ll have to come with us” “Sure, thanks” you said catching them and placing them on the bench in front of you so you could pull your shoes off. “I’m gonna go warm up.” Paul said to no-one in particular, barely putting his top on properly before rushing out of the changing rooms. You watched Paul’s abrupt exit and turned back to see Jared and Embry carrying on un-phased by Paul. “Is he normally this moody?” You asked them as you sat down and pulled your jeans off, swapping them for the shorts you borrowed from Jared. “Paul is prone to mood swings pretty often, they're un-predictable but you get used to it.” Even if Paul is in bad moods often, you can’t help but think you have something to do with his today. “Do you guys know what we are going to be doing in gym today?” you say standing up and putting one foot on the bench to tie up the laces on your sneakers. “Soccer, so technically it’s not gym because we’ll be on the field.” Embry replied also tying up the laces to his own shoes. “Are you any good?” Jared asked, and they both looked at you awaiting your reply. “Uhh, I’d say average. I mean i have enough co-ordination to kick the ball in the direction i aim for.” You played a lot of soccer with friends as a kid and at previous schools, so you had enough experience to at least hold your own but you still weren’t amazing. “That’ll be good enough” Embry grinned “but just to warn you, we all get a little competitive” “a little?” Jared questioned and Embry laughed “Fine, a lot.” “A lot competitive? Great english bro.” Jared mocked, making you all laugh. “You ready?” Embry stood next to you as you finished tying the laces of your other sneaker “Yeah let’s go.” you said following them out the changing rooms and towards the pitch marked out on the field. You weren’t surprised the boys here got competitive, but the pressure of proving yourself was starting to make you nervous.

The coach was your typical no-nonsense, drill sergeant teacher. He welcomed you in his own way, which was acknowledging you were new to the school and asking how good you were at soccer; you gave him the same answer you gave Jared and Embry earlier. The coach put you in teams by throwing blue or green bibs randomly at the students. You were pleased to see Jared run up to you wearing a green bib matching your own, at least you knew at least one person on your team. Paul and Embry were on the blue team, and they were trash-talking your team relentlessly, mainly aimed at Jared as he was eagerly sending witty insults back to them until the coach had to blow the whistle to shut everyone up.

Once the teams had finished assigning positions the coach blew the whistle once again for the game to start. You had gladly agreed to take centre midfield as the other guy playing centre midfield seemed extremely confident as he said he was happy to take the most control in the centre field for you both; which saved you the worry of messing up too much. Also Jared was left mid-field so he could be in a space near you to help you out. Immediately after the sharp whistle rang out over the pitch, two boys were clashing over the ball, and a forward from your team managed to tackle successfully. You ran over to back them up with the other centre midfield, whilst Jared sprinted ahead to receive a pass and dribble the ball past a player on the green team. The speed and co-ordination that Jared was moving with took you by surprise, not that you didn't think he would be good but he definitely was a skilled player. You slowly jogged behind and stopped once Jared and another player on your team weaved through opponents towards the goal. Paul and Embry were in defence for the green team, and they were fast approaching Jared to go in for a tackle. You couldn’t believe how quick their reactions were, their feet were moving with the ball so quickly and before you knew it Jared and Embry had completely dismissed the ball and they were now wrestling in the middle of the field. You weren’t sure if it was a fight at first, but you heard laughter echoing over and caught glimpses of them grinning so you knew it was just play fighting. No one else really reacted so it must be a common occurrence between the two friends, and it took the coach several whistles until they actually quit rolling about.

Everyone got back into a space and the whistle blew once again, setting people off running to the ball. The green team had the ball this time, and they were heading this way so you and your centre midfielder starting running towards the opponents to try and make tackles and block passes.

Embry stood near the goal, his arms leaning down on his bent knees whilst he watched the players on the other side of the pitch. “What do you think of y/n?” he said watching your frame blocking a pass and kicking the ball to a member of your team. “Seems alright.” Paul said nonchalantly from where he stood next to Embry, his eyes still focused on the activity in the distance. “then why are you acting so pissed around him?” Embry frowned looking over to his pack brother, only for Paul to continue avoiding his gaze; his eyes still looking straight ahead. “Im not pissed because of him, i’m just having a bad day- you should know my moods aren't exactly controlled.” Paul huffed, bringing his arms up to cross over his chest. A grin creeps onto Embry’s face as he sees an opportunity to wind Paul up “Are you sure you’re not just playing hard to get?” he cocks an eyebrow waiting for a reaction, which was sooner than expected. “What?” Paul snaps his head round to look at Embry, a mix of shock and anger swept across his face. Embry laughed after getting a reaction he was looking for “I'm just kidding, dude” Paul looks at Emrby for a bit longer, a frown still etched onto his face which softens slightly as he slowly turns back to face the direction of the ball, brushing of Embry’s comment. “...I know you're more into taller guys anyway.” Embry bit his lip, which still failed to hide his grin, as he knew he was really testing Paul with this comment. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Paul says sharply, his whole body snapping round this time as he began walking up to Embry, who quickly lifts his torso up to stand straight. His grin now completely fading off his face. “Woah Paul chill? I was kidding, you know that.” Embry said defensively, but ensuring his body language is submissive to prevent Paul spiralling out of control. “Well, when are you gonna stop taking it so far? It’s funny occasionally but after a while it gets annoying, you talking shit all the time.” Paul stood and frowned at Embry, his voice clearly showing his frustration. “I was just playing around? I don't get why you let me get to you so easy, sorry if i annoyed you but how is this any different from our every day interactions?” Embry knitted his eyebrows in confusion as he looks at Paul. “I wasn't affected! I’m not, you're just getting on my nerves. Why did you even make those comments, what were they supposed to mean?” Paul’s frustration increased with each word that left his lips, his voice beginning to strengthen, getting more aggressive as his anger levels start rising. “Paul, hey calm down ma-” “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Paul barked, marching up to Embry and shoving him.

(Back to your POV)

You were in the middle of tackling an opponent to get the ball off them, the past few minutes have been chaos of the ball bouncing between the two teams, and you were impressed with how well you've kept up. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” A deep voice shouted, snapping everyone out of their momentum as you and all the other players look over to see Paul’s large frame clash against Embry’s. Immediately murmuring started, and the coach ran over to them. Jared also began running over, and got their quicker than the coach, pulling Embry back from Paul as soon as he reached the pair. You could see Jared lean to murmur something to Embry, pushing him gently on the shoulder before Embry stormed off towards the changing rooms. Jared then walked over to Paul, where the coach was already trying to diffuse Paul’s angry state, you could see Paul and Jared were having a heated debate by the way their hands were gesturing as they spoke. Not before long Paul also stormed off, running his hand aggressively through his hair as he walks off towards the side entrance of the school building. “What do you think that was about?” you said to a guy watching from next to you “I don't know, but it doesn’t take much to set off Paul’s temper. He’s a cool guy, but sometimes i think he's got a screw loose.” he replied. The coach and Jared walked over to where you all stood on the pitch. Jared came and stood next to you, giving you a small nod when you looked at him to signal it was alright. “Well, i think we’ll call it a day after that. Put your overalls in the basket and go get changed.” The coach sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, walking away towards the school building; probably to grab a coffee and shut himself in his office to avoid any more teen drama.

“Will they be alright?” you asked Jared, as you walked towards the changing rooms “who Paul and Embry?” Jared looked at you and you nodded in response, “yeah that’s nothing, they’ll be back joking around probably by the end of next lesson.” Jared said distantly, he didn't sound so sure. His mind seemed occupied by other thoughts. It wasn't awkward silence whilst you were getting changed, Embry was still worked up and you could tell you were all thinking about what could have caused Paul’s foul mood.

Paul’s temper was still the topic of conversation whilst you three walked to the literature block. You didn’t mind though it was nice having a break from the polite conversation you've had to make with so many people today. “...I just don’t get why he was so sensitive? Paul and i are always winding up so I don't understand why he reacted so quickly today.” Embry said whilst he trudged alongside you and Jared. “Well, what did you actually say to him?” Jared replied looking over to Embry, who turned his gaze in another direction “ummm” he thought, scratching his head “well, I can't remember exactly but it was barely two sentences.” You and Jared faced each other, sharing a frown, before Jared turned back to face Embry “dude, you are shit at lying. What did you say?” You both continued to look at Embry, waiting for his reply, as you all continued walking along the path next to the school buildings. “Fine, I just said something about how I thought Paul’s type was taller men blah blah blah you get the idea.” Embry rolled his eyes, turning his head to face you both. “Is that it?” Jared replied and Embry nodded. “Weird.” Jared said after a few seconds. “That’s what I mean! Why did that hit a nerve so bad? I’ve said a lot worse to Paul before when we wind each other up and he hasn't batted an eyelid.” Jared hummed in thought whilst Embry continued rambling on until you all reached your classroom.

The literature lesson was spent with the teacher briefly explaining the back story of a play, and they clearly didn't want to be there which was confirmed when they told the class they were putting on a clip of the play for the rest of the lesson. You ignored the dull audio coming form the TV at the front of the class. You’re gaze fixed on the sky through the window, whilst the events on the soccer pitch replayed in your mind, the thought you couldn’t get out your mind was ‘am i the reason Paul is so pissed?’ even though you can’t think of why you would be.

The rest of the day went daily smoothly. You sat with Jared, Embry, and the rest of their friends for lunch where they all excitedly talked over each other to give you the low down about their school and your fellow classmates. However, Paul wasn't anywhere to be seen that afternoon. Once you got home all thoughts of him had faded out your mind, as you were exhausted from the first day at school you just put your headphones in and collapsed on your bed.

-To be continued-

#Quileute imagines #Paul lahote imagine #Paul lahote #Paul lahote x male!reader #Embry call #Jared Cameron #Twilight wolf pack

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feverhalo · 7 years

Text

I wrote a deathnote fic-ish thing (1403 words? thats kinda short but not as short n sweet as i wanted) cause I got back into it after going to rewatch the anime.

Lots of words but doesnt rly go anywhere and nowhere near edited. I just wanted a dorky little feverish thing

I might rework it later, but heres something. Y’all are so patient with my slow creating ass.

working title is “Like a Bedtime Story”, but I don’t want to really title it until I rework it to what I want it to be 100% (or at least 70%)

——————————————-

“Mmm, Light, would you pass that to me?” Ryuzaki rattled the linking chain as he shifted in his seat.

“I’m sorry, what did you need?” Light slid his headset down, looking away from the screen as he paused it.

“That,” Light looked to where Ryuzaki was pointing as he continued to mumble around the nail he was biting, “My charge is low, and I’m at a critical point of analysis.”

“Really, Ryuzaki?” Light teased as he picked up the correct end of the cable and dropped it to L’s hand. He took the extra second to plug the other end into the power bar properly as well. “There, better?”

“Mm,” Light shook his head and turned to his own laptop again after Ryuzaki replied in what he could only assume was an affirmative.

Ryuzaki shifted again. And again. This new venue was uncomfortable. His knees ached. The case was still at a disconcerting stand still as well. No. No, it wasn’t the case. His head felt fogged and he had been more tempted to sleep as of late. It could be a continued spiral out because of the despair of being proven wrong, but-

“Ryuzaki?” L had stood abruptly and dragged his feet across to the main desk, skewing some paperwork with the long chain dragging behind him. Light stared after him as Ryuzaki lifted things here and there on the desk until he found what he was looking for.

Just as abruptly, he popped the cap on a pill bottle and dropped to a crouch where his last cup of tea had been left to go cold. Light turned back to his computer, but kept watching Ryuzaki from the corner of his eye. He took two pills from the container, and downed the abandoned tea before climbing back onto the far end of the couch. He looked to the laptop he had thunked onto the coffee table for a moment, before deigning to poke and prod at it from where he was instead of bringing it close again.

“I mean no distraction,” his slender fingers tapped at the keys and with a few quick strokes had brought up a news feed. Satisfied, it seemed, Ryuzaki lifted his hand to pick and prod at his lip again.

Silence fell for a few minutes longer.

“Did that help at all?” Light asked, driven to distraction himself by the deviation of the pattern he had come to know as Ryuzaki’s. It looked to be regular ibuprofen, but why.

“Yes,” Ryuzaki replied slowly, “It seems to have started to help. Though, I can’t say my focus has been helped at all. Tell me about what you’re working on.”

Light watched as Ryuzaki frowned at the news feed he had up. With a few taps he re-opened his previous screens and the frown seemed to deepen a fraction before smoothing out when he looked sidelong at Light.

“If I’m destined to be distracted, it might as well be useful somehow.”

“If you’ve got a headache, you should give your eyes a break from the screen for a while.” Light looked back to his and started typing again.

“Not a headache.”

“Ah,” Ryuzaki wasn’t in the habit of taking pills. Though, Light could guess if he did how it could be hidden from everyone. Even so, “Well, I’m just looking at some of those online forums. Trying to see if anyone is leaving a trail or hint. It looks like its mostly just people who want to throw their opinions in, and don’t really care for securing their data much. There’s a few definitely hidden though vpn services, but not anywhere near in-depth enough to hint that Kira may be frequenting it.”

“Still with that, hm?” Light nodded and continued. Ryuzaki shifted again. “Even I’m insulted you think Kira would slip like that.”

“Its more to see if any of the ones who have taken precautions have any other possible contact. The second Kira, or- What are you doing?”

“Keep talking.” Ryuzaki had shifted again, he was cross-legged on the sofa and listing towards Light by this point. His face seemed paler and the bags under his eyes more pronounced than even a few minutes ago when he got up.

“You really should give your eyes a break, I’ll read out what I’ve found, just close your screen for now. And try not to look at mine, really, a proper break would help more.”

“Do you need a break?” Ryuzaki had straightened some, and seemed to be easing back into his regular posture with some difficulty.

“I’m not opposed to a walk around, we have been sitting for a while.”

“I’d rather stay here,” he waved a hand and let himself slump further. “Continue, at any rate.”

“Right… Well, um,” Light was unsure where to continue. It was straightforward as he had said before. Really it was mindless busy work; something to keep him from rusting up and to check for any holes he was missing on either side.

In the end, he opted to just detail what he had already gone over. Ryuzaki stretched now and then, and eventually ended up laying on his back with his feet propped on the arm of the couch tilting his head to watch Light.

“This is entirely pointless,” He mumbled. It really was, they both knew it. But the boring chatter and repetition of facts helped him relax, and with the medicine from earlier, his body ached less though his head still felt useless.

“Yeah, I said that before. I’m just as lost as you on how to proceed,” Light looked down to Ryuzaki’s face only to see the man with his eyes shut and looking particularly miserable. He looked drained of color, and greasy.

“Look, Ryuzaki,” Light went to speak, but he was cut off.

“There’s no need to call Watari. Its fine. What was your next avenue to look into?” He dragged his eyelids open and stared for a moment as the room focused, bringing the two variations of Light together in front of him. The room stayed still, but his perceptions still told him it was spinning and tilting ever so slightly, so he let his eyes shut again.

“I guess to look over the notes from earlier today. Ideally, I’d want to talk it over with everyone some more, see if we can bounce any more ideas around, but its late.” Light shut his own laptop and moved it to the table, “The best I can think to do is to look at it all from the start again, but we’ve gone over it countless times.”

Ryuzaki began to hum in response, but startled when Light put a hand to his cheek. He rolled his head away and pushed himself to his side and up to stare at Light.

“Sorry. You’re pretty warm though,” Light pulled his hand back, “and you took some pain medicine for aches, right? That should have done something for a temperature too. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ryuzaki let himself fall back to his previous position. He took a moment to respond, more to let his body catch up and recover from the movement.

“I did, I asked you to pick up the charging cable so I could remain still. Outside of that what else could I say that would matter?”

“I could have gotten the pills for you- “

“No thanks,” Ryuzaki was derailed from his thought with a moment of intense brain fog.

“Right, because I’m still potentially Kira in your mind. I can understand that, but you’re really warm, Ryuzaki.”

“I’ll be alright. If you’re correct in saying I’ve got a temperature, it’ll fade in time. It could be residual heat from the computer as well, they tend to get hot. But, yes, it is likely I’ve got a temperature. All the same, I’d like you to go over the case again- like you said. Starting from the beginning and running though everything. I’ll listen and see if I can find what we’ve missed.”

“Like a story, sure.” Ryuzaki felt the beginnings of agitation and indignation at that comment, but Light started reciting the timeline of events and their findings.

As irritating as it was, that was his intent. A story, a distraction- something to let his mind drift to while he ached and felt ill and grimy with sweat he was too exhausted to do anything about.

#sickfic #sick l #sick ryuzaki #fever fic #deathnote fic #fh fic #draft fic probably #wip fic ??#glass wants some feverish l fics and is too lazy to look for very long #so they wrote one. but were too lazy to do that to the full desired extent too

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amongthefae · 7 years

Text

Breaking Ian

just a 5 page short story highlighting the traumas that shaped Ian the most in the first half-ish of his canon story. Would have written more but that means finishing the book and thats just asking a lot.

trigger warnings self harm mentions, anorexia mentions, substance abuse mentions, severe trauma, blood/gore, and possibly a few more.

Darkness cast over the city of Altone, the quiet of night set in in such a way that Ian could feel it in his bones. The still, unnatural silence that fell over the city was both unnerving and relaxing for the constantly busy teen. Laid back on his twin sized bed, he stared at the white orange peel ceiling with eyes dead and tired. Once sparkling emeralds full of wonder and hope, Ian’s eyes had faded to a dark lackluster green with large blobs of brown as the world wore down his mind and body. He had begun to look constantly exhausted by way of heavy bags under his eyes by the time he was fourteen. Life had not been so kind to him in his eighteen years, and time had worn his soul down to almost nothing. As his weary mind began to cast colorful swirls onto the chalky ceiling, Ian felt his eyes slip closed and the air thicken with a sickening familiarity.

For moments all was calm, the sound of rubber on asphalt was as soothing as the gentle music coming from somewhere below. It was the not so gentle thump of the car as asphalt turned to unpaved country roads that jolted Ian’s eyes open once more as he found himself in his mother’s car, his sister chattering excitedly as they grew closer to their destination. In the front seat was his mother, her curly black hair cascading over her shoulders and enveloping the headrest in it’s incredulous volume. Fragments of her pale, freckled face came only into view long enough to flee behind those voluminous locks once more. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her and feel safe in her arms for the first time in almost a decade, but instead he was jostled by an incoming head of wavy brown hair accompanied by a boisterous giggle. It was his sister, all sweet and innocent with big brown eyes, and a goofy gap toothed smile on her face.

“Are you excited?!” Her childish voice ever so chipper and full of glee. At only four years old she was enthralled by the idea of seeing cows, ducks, and sheep. Ian gave her a grin and nodded happily just as he had back then.

“Yeah Samantha, I can’t wait!” His voice had been so much higher back then, so sugary sweet that adults would fawn over the curly headed tot.

With a blink of his eyes Ian found himself in a barn with a beautiful, tame cow, his uncle Will, and his mother whose leg he clung to. She smelled of lavender and chemical sterilizing agents, as well as her sweet rose perfume. He knew why he was here in the barn, but he couldn’t escape it, no matter how desperately he begged his feet to move, this dream would play out just like the real thing. The clattering of the shotgun being loaded was his first indicator as he hid half his face in his mother’s thigh. They talked indistinguishably as Ian felt his little heart race, he didn’t know why he had asked to tag along, perhaps too young to understand the word slaughter he had just wanted to see the cow. Then came the gun shot, the sickening splatter of blood that ensured the cow was dead, and the deafening cries of a horrified little boy, his dress splattered with little specks of red. He’d not touched meat since then, especially beef the memory staying with him always.

Hiding his face now entirely in his mother’s thigh a few more breaths and he was back in the car. Older now, the minivan from before had been replaced with a sleeker, smaller family car. His sister, excitedly kicking her feet for her first trip to the beach, it was no small drive but she was sure to be excited the entire ride. It was his eighth birthday and Ian himself was excited, riding behind them with the window half down and a stupid smile on his face. It was a beautiful day to go to the lake and swim, just slightly too hot for comfort and mildly sticky. His hair was a frizzy mess that rested in a pony tail on his back just over his light blue bathing suit cover, in the end the heat would be more than worth it. A familiar dread grew in the young boy’s stomach, the feeling he got when something would go wrong without a doubt. It was then that everything became fuzzy, a sharp pain erupting on Ian’s forehead and the left side of his head. He was dizzy and could hear only screaming and the screeching of tires. He felt for moments at a time that he might fall entirely out of his seat only to feel firmly planted there again. His Forehead was continuously battered by something, before a harsher, sharper pain grew in his nose and right eye socket and the young boy passed out entirely.

When Ian open his eye again the world was upside down, and his right eye wouldn’t open. He groaned against the distant sirens and grabbed for the front seat.

“Mom…?” His voice came out wet, the taste of iron and salt filling his mouth, but the only voice that came was that of a young sounding man.

“We’ve got a live one!” Suddenly everything was bustling and noise, even as the young boy coughed up blood and wished it would all go away, more stimulation came. There were hands all over him, some touching places that hurt more than any pain before. He was pulled from the car with some shouting and effort, his view from the gurney granted him the view of a smashed in car, and his mother’s face caved in around the steering wheel. The airbags had never deployed, and the wind shield had utterly shattered, leaving his little sister nearly decapitated. Across the road was a semi truck, perfectly intact but with a sobbing female driver. She had tried to fight sleep for forty eight hours and lost, costing Samantha and Amanda McClaine their lives.

Ian clenched his eyes closed, wishing it all away and shaking his head in utter denial. This horrid reliving of a life changing tragedy didn’t melt away until the paramedic announced them both long dead. His right eye socket and maxilla had been broken that day, several ribs shattering against the restraint of the seatbelt and impaling his left lung. Several others had only just barely missed his heart. Later in the hospital quite a few doctors and nurses would tell him he was lucky to be alive. He didn’t think so.

As one realistic dream faded into another, Ian found himself in bed at home with a dull ache in his chest and dried tears on his face. He was now twelve, the signs of his first puberty starting to show in the typical feminine ways. The ache in his chest was from ace bandages not removed the night before, and the tears from the very first throes of dysphoria. He didn’t know the word for what he was yet, no label of transgender was known to him. He called himself many things, most kindly the term ‘tomboy.’ He felt shaky legs swing over the bed and land on papers on the floor and he felt his pajama pants sting the razor bites on his thighs, but still he stood and shuffled to the main room. It was nine in the morning on a Sunday, the light would be filtering in through the crimson curtains his mother had bought and waking his hung over, or still half drunk father soon enough. The house was a disaster, with beer bottles and garbage covering the floor, it reeked of stale body odor and two broken humans that simply didn’t care anymore. At this time Ian had been unnaturally thin, only finding the motivation to eat when the pain was so bad in his gut that he had to. Now was one of those times.

His father in contrast turned to eating away his feelings. Once slender and business man like, he was now incredibly fat and looked like the unemployed shell of a man that he was. The pay out from suing the car company had been huge and should have sustained them both for a decade or two, but was now nearly gone due to someone’s drinking and gambling habits. Ian snuck close to his father, less interested in him and more interested in the pack of cigarettes by his side. He’d done this a million times over for beer or cash but never for a smoke. He couldn’t have known the plastic would make enough noise to wake the sleeping man on the couch, but learned this lesson quickly as a loud groan came from the previously sleeping man.

“Don’t.” Is the only thing the hungover man said, swatting the boy’s hand away. Ian of course sighed and backed away, knowing the next warning wouldn’t be so kind. He instead retreated to his room for a cold shower that would sting and remind him of his own existence. Just briefly in the bathroom he caught a glimpse of himself, the hideous scars that covered his face and body like a road map more evident now than they ever had been. He wondered if anyone would ever see past him, or if he would only ever be as interesting as his scars.

As the bathroom door closed behind him, that cold, harsh reality faded to a vaguely brighter one. The sun was striking Ian’s lacy black curtains and refracting off of the crystals hanging from the ceiling. The room was cleaner now, a previously pink room turned black with chrome accents as Ian grew into himself. Different plants hung in pots around the room, some common flowers and succulents, nothing too hard to take care of. The room was still a mess but no where near as bad as it had been. He was fifteen now, fuller of frame and much more mentally stable. Slinking into his bathroom he gave himself a once over, running his fingers through his hair. He’d just had it cut, he looked clean for once. His chest was now bound with a cheap, but safe binder and he wore entirely male attire. Those scars had faded away to a dull pink on his pale face, the vague freckles a stark contrast and a constant reminder of his Irish heritage. He knew what today was, he didn’t want to be here.

Nonetheless his feet carried him towards his door, shaky hands turning the handle. His father was on the couch, a thinner cleaner version of his previous self. He had a beer in hand and some was fixated on some football game, heavy bags under his eyes to match those under Ian’s. While things had improved, Derek McClaine was no less a bitter man. Four years of being near constantly drunk had taken their toll, but he worked two jobs and provided his living child with the basic most necessities. He had only glanced up at the noise as Ian came out of his room, standing awkwardly by the television and chewing his lip. His dad’s brown eyes eventually moved to look him over and a small frown appeared on his face.

“You’re unbelievable Ian.” The gruff voice of a chain smoker filled the room, chilling Ian to his core. His little hands balled into fists as his shaky voice broke free from his throat.

He wanted to scream at his father, but instead he barely managed a whisper. “I didn’t ask for this dad, the least you could do is support me through this.”

Derek’s frown turned into a deep rooted scowl, his brows furrowing at the child before him. “Support what Ian? A high school dropout Average with no future ahead of them but certain death?! I think not! I think you’ll have your things moved out by the end of the week and if you have any goddamn brains in your head you’ll warn that spider freak to stay out too! As far as I’m concerned, I have no son.” His words came harsh and brought tears to his eyes, but he none the less moved to the kitchen to prepare a meal for himself so he would have the energy to pack.

Walking through the living room, however, brought him to his apartment. All was quiet for a moment a stillness setting in that was unnerving to Ian. For a moment, he might have thought he was awake, but the opening of his door without any warning proved otherwise.

“Ian, my man! Guess what I have in store for you today!” Titus burst in, a dumb smile on his face as the ridges where most had eyebrows raised nearly halfway through his forehead. He was an odd little man with odd gifts. His abilities however, cost him all of his hair and apparently most of his sanity. To most of Altone, Titus was the sole defender of the west border known as The Obsidian Spider. To the community he was stoic and calm, but Ian knew he was a party animal and a play boy that wasn’t fond of clothes or knocking.

Turning slowly to his teacher the boy raised an eyebrow and tucked his hands into his hoodie pocket in silent questioning. It was amazing to him that his neighbors never made noise complaints about Titus. Maybe they were deaf, or maybe they didn’t care.

Rolling his eyes in frustration at Ian’s lackluster response, the older man continued. “We’re going on our first mission! There’s a mermaid terrorizing some poor fishermen on Lake Plan D'eau!”

“I don’t go to the lake, Titus.” Ian cut in, now shuffling to the kitchen to make himself some green tea. He was in no mood for this today.

“Well, you’re going today and we’re flying there in style!”

Another blink of the eye and Ian felt the cold breeze off the water hitting his face contrasting the sharp burn against his feet from the sand. Some time around five years prior, something had infested the waters of Lake Plan D’eau, something vicious and man eating. The locals had come to call them mermaids, but no one knew their origin or the origin of the word.

The creatures were nothing like the mermaids of old, hideous in every way they opted to chase down their prey rather than lure it into those murky depths. They of course preyed on the average variety of humans, those dumb enough to think they could survive a quick dip in the water, or that their boat would protect them. Ian hated the lake.

Titus, however, paid these beings no mind. Clad in nothing but his boxers he dove into the water and heroically brought the man and his boat to safety. The horror came when one of the mermaids latched on to Titus’ foot as he exited the water and a scream filled the air like none Ian had ever heard before. As the foul being rolled much like an alligator to tear off this part of its meal. The boy knew now was the time for action, and he felt his hand reach for the dagger at his side. It would be so simple to sink the blade into the mermaid’s skull, right between the eyes. But if it was so simple, why couldn’t be move?

Paralysed in fear the young apprentice was useless until the agonized scream turned to pleas for help in the boy’s ear, his mentor clawing at the ground before him in a desperate attempt to get away from the sharp teeth the threatened to take his foot. Before he could even register what he was doing Ian lept into action and sunk the blade into the mermaid’s skull without much hesitation or thought. His sense of remorse only kicked in as it wailed in pain and dug at its forehead in the moment’s as it’s life drained away.

As Titus pulled himself from the bloody water, and the rescued man called for an ambulance, Ian fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. As if an entire decade of trauma came pouring back over him. He’d come so far, been through so much and only ever broken down once or twice.

Now, without family or a friend in the world, he could no longer remain strong.

The sound of springs popping and a wretched gasp fill the air as Ian shoots up in bed, tears streaking down his face. He wanted to go home, to curl up in his familiar room with his dog and feel a comfort he hadn’t felt since being kicked out. The reality of his memories frightened him but there was nothing he could do besides bring his knees to his chest and cry, a broken man of only eighteen.

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