#✘ ▌INSANITY IS SOMETIMES THE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE TO REALITY. ❞ ( chats. ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koolcatkenma · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! :) I saw you wanted to do prompts, so maybe IwaOi with a "choose me" angst prompt?

so i am sorry this took so long to write, and u bet i am thinking of a part 2 already >:)

Thinking back, it must have started sometime in high school. But if Tooru sat down and really thought about it, his feelings had started developing much earlier. But he didn’t want to face that reality. Not now. Not ever.

Now, in his second year of university, Tooru was regretting every decision that had led him to his current situation. He was standing outside of the cafe the pair used to regular, picking up a late dinner after an especially successful practice. It hadn’t changed.

Inside was near empty, save for a few customers browsing the selection of pastries offered. Glancing at his watch, Tooru realized he was early. Taking a deep breath, the boy pushed open the door and headed to the counter to order.

Minutes later he was sitting in their usual seat in the corner, by the window. His coffee sat steaming, too hot to enjoy. His arms were crossed, eyes trained on the door. Any minute now, they would arrive. Hajime had never been one to be late.

Sure enough, his long-time friend walked in just seconds later. The sight of him almost knocked the breath out of Tooru’s lungs. Hajime had always been attractive, but his second year of university was doing wonders for him. No longer a bench warmer but the university volleyball team’s vice-captain, he had filled out, even more so, muscles visible under the thin t-shirt he wore. His skin was tanned, shorts riding up to show off a slight tan line. He was taller somehow, or he stood straighter. In high school, he would keep his hair short and barely use any product. Now he had an undercut, the top of his head styled so it was almost windswept. He had stubble too; it was insanely hot.

When their eyes met, a smile lit up his face and he waved. Tooru almost returned the gesture, but his hand fell back into his lap as his eyes traveled to behind his friend. There a girl, petite in stature. She seemed shy, gripping the back of Hajime’s shirt, her gaze locked on the man in front of her. She wore a light blue sundress, showing off slim arms and legs, devoid of moles or imperfections. Brown hair fell past her shoulders, curled ever so slightly. Tooru had never been more envious of someone he hadn’t even met.

Of course, he knew his friend had been chatting with a girl in his year; although they went to different schools, their friends had made it a point to keep Tooru in the loop. But Tooru had expected the relationship to go nowhere as every other did. It typically lasted a month before the girl, who would have been flirting with Hajime nonstop, gave up. No matter how book smart the student claimed to be, he lacked the social skills needed to recognize when someone actually liked him. Tooru knew that all too well.

Mentally, he checked out as soon as the pair sat down across from him. He made sure to give the appropriate responses, ask reasonable questions, and smile. He learned little about the girl next to Hajime, except that they went to the same university and were studying totally different things. And that she was the exact opposite of himself.

Tooru stared at his phone, scrolling through the girl’s social media. Although they weren’t even officially dating, she had the audacity to post several pictures of Iwa-chan. The boy didn’t even have any social media. He wondered if Hajime knew there were pictures of him like this on the internet. They weren’t incriminating or bad; he was smiling so bright in all of them, never looking directly at the camera. He was so beautiful.

Speak of the devil, his phone went off with a ding. Through blurry vision, he saw that it was Hajime, thanking him for meeting up today. He also asked what Tooru thought of her. Which is something he didn’t do with other girls.

Not wanting to be mean but truthful, he sent out a blunt ‘she’s nice. opposite of what i thought ur type was’. He wanted to throw his phone at the wall.

Another ding. ‘I missed you, ya know. We should meet up more often.’

‘awe, iwa-chan missed me! what a sap’

‘Shitty-kawa. I take it back.’

‘mean!!’

And it felt like old times.

Tooru dreamt dreams that felt too real, the nights after he met that girl, his now unspoken nemesis. In every one, they were back in high school and Oikawa wasn’t such a coward. He confessed to Iwaizumi, then the dream would skip to them at the same university, sharing an off-campus apartment. There would be soft kisses and cuddles, time spent out on real dates; their team would go to nationals and win.

Hajime would choose him.

He always woke up crying. Tooru loved Hajime, and Hajime didn’t even know.

Unconsciously, the student distanced himself from his friends outside his university. He started ignoring calls, replying late to texts, skipping out on monthly meetups with his old team. He deleted social media as to not be tempted to stalk that girl. That was probably the final red flag, alerting someone that something wasn’t right.

It had been three months since that day; volleyball was nearing the end of its official season, the qualifying rounds rapidly approaching. As starting setter, his already busy days got busier, practices became longer and more frequent, and finals approached rapidly. He slept less and less, spent more nights on the court or in the library, and couldn’t remember when or what his last meal was if you asked him. But he was going to nationals if it killed him.

Exhaustion pulled at his body, weighing him down. The dark circles under his eyes almost made it look like someone had clocked him. His movements outside of practice were sluggish; more than once did he dozes off during a lecture. Maybe if he had been more alert he could have avoided the way too familiar face standing outside his favorite study cafe.

When their eyes met, Tooru had half a mind to just turn and run. The other half, the sleep-deprived half, told him differently and won. His legs continued to take him towards his friend, his face staying neutral. He knew he looked like shit, but the look Hajime gave him when he was close enough to see his face still hurt.

“Iwa-chan! What are you doing here?” Tooru tried to keep his voice upbeat, pushing open the door to the slightly busy cafe. Glancing around, he saw his favorite booth was open and made a beeline to it, his friend following close behind.

“Oikawa, you have us all worried. You haven’t responded to my texts in weeks.” Straight to the point, huh he thought, sighing.

“Iwa-chan, as a fellow student you should understand! Finals and qualifiers are coming up soon~” Voice light, the boy took out his laptop and textbooks, eager to end the conversation.

Hajime took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his frustration under control. Oikawa had no intention of telling his friend anything. But Iwaizumi wasn’t leaving without a truthful explanation.

“You’re team secured the number one seed last week and finals aren’t for two more weeks. Tooru, what is wrong?” There was a real concern in his voice, his face pinched in worry. The boy probably didn’t even realize how much emotion he was letting slip out. Tooru was happy their booth was in a secluded corner because it all became too much. Tears welled in the corner of his eyes and threatened to spill over. He looked up at the boy he had loved for as long as he could remember and finally spoke.

“Hajime, I love you. I want you to choose me.”

help me keep writing :)

#iwaoi #angst #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!!#writing #fic #drabble #emwrites

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rockindragonz · 6 years ago

Text

Theory and Practice

Words: 4554

Summary: Indrid draws a future that forces him to confront the feelings he's been slowly developing for everyone's favorite regular ass dude. AKA 5 times Indrid saw the future vs the 1 time he didn't

Ao3

Time is funny for people who can see the future. Even if Indrid couldn’t see exactly what was going to happen, he could still see the possible outcomes of any given situation. This always put him one step ahead in theory, but two steps behind in reality. While everyone else was living in the present, he was living 3 seconds ahead, so he missed out on the spontaneous things people would sometimes do. It was probably that spontaneity that drew him so magnetically to Duck Newton.

The man was peculiar in more ways than one. His face was soft, but aged beyond his years. His eyes were bright, but constantly exhausted. His body was strong, but his bones cracked and popped with nearly every movement. Most importantly though, despite the destiny Minerva had nicely laid out in front of him, Duck refused it and fought against it as much as he could. He purposely tried to do the unexpected things, the spontaneous things, that made Indrid have to scrap all of his drawings and start over. Normally, this would have been a nuisance, but he found himself drawn to the chaos that Duck created. Whenever Duck was in the room, Indrid found himself anticipating the things he would say, the paths he would take, the new ones he would create. Sometimes, of course, Duck did the expected thing. Sometimes he did his “chosen duty” of saving people, but he and his companions always found a different way of making things interesting.

That is why Indrid finds himself where he is: with a single lonely drawing of an odd future. A drawing of him kissing Duck Newton.

“Indrid, man, are you still there?” Duck said, and he sounded worried. It was their usual chatting time right now. Indrid knew that whenever he went quiet for too long, Duck would grow concerned over the possible futures running through his head. “Hey, uh, listen, I can call back later if now's a bad time.”

Indrid coughed in what he hoped was a convincing way. “I'm okay, sorry Duck, just, um, choking on air, a possible future caught me off guard,” he said as smoothly as he could, “Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure? You freaked me out for a sec there.” Duck's voice was concerned, almost afraid in a weird way. Indrid was certain his mind was conjuring up all sorts of possible reasons one of Indrid's visions would cause him to choke briefly.

“Yes I'm sure, it's not a big deal, just a… surprising future is all.”

“Oooookay man… I trust you. Just let me know ASAP if anything changes,” Duck said.

There was a brief lull in the conversation as Indrid carefully considered his next action. These visions weren’t completely new; there were a few futures where Indrid and Duck kissed at their first meeting, and even a miniscule amount where more happened. But those visions were usually so insignificant that Indrid paid them no mind. The mere fact that he drew that timeline meant that there were enough iterations of it that he might have to plan for it. Indrid shook his head as he suddenly realized that he was still on the phone, and laughed quietly.

“You are full of surprises, Duck Newton, absolutely full of surprises,” Indrid said into the phone.

Duck shuffled around on the other end. “Well, uh, is that uh, a good thing?”

“Yes, it brings variety to my life, so thank you,” Indrid smiled, “It gets rather boring knowing everything that will happen. You frequently send us down unlikely paths and force me to rethink everything, and to be honest I thoroughly enjoy it.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome, I guess? I don’t know, Indrid, I just don’t wanna be stuck in a box, you know? I— I’m multidimensional man! I have feelings and shit!” Duck said, his voice raising in pitch slightly. Indrid chuckled as he looked down at the paper with an unfamiliar fondness. As Duck rambled, the future in front of Indrid became slightly more likely, and Indrid found himself wanting this vision to come true. And as soon as that clicked, Indrid knew he was irrevocably fucked.

The drawing had taken up permanent residence on the wall, even if that specific moment had passed. It was odd for Indrid to keep such a drawing; usually he threw them out as soon as they were no longer relevant, but something kept him attached to this one. He wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the drawing, or if it was because of who it was with, or even if it was because it was simply such an odd future that Indrid just couldn’t seem to let go of it.

Duck was set to come by the Winnebago later to talk about the most recent developments regarding Billy and the abomination— sorry, bom-bom. The drawing was carefully stowed away in one of Indrid’s many journals and stashed under his bed. He understood the underside of a bed to be where all humans kept their more private items. That or a bedside table, but this drawing wasn’t something Indrid would need offhand.

Usually, Duck didn’t get the chance to knock, but Indrid was distracted with drawing other possible futures, so he simply let Duck knock and told him that the door was open. As Duck pushed the door open, new and rather… interesting futures appeared with varying levels of appropriateness. Indrid cleared his throat and forced himself not to focus on one of the more explicit ones.

“Hey man, thanks for letting me come over, I just needed to, I dunno, talk through some shit with you without the other two cracking jokes about it,” Duck said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s quite alright, Duck, please sit down, would you like some nog?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, fuck it,” Duck laughed nervously.

As soon as those words left Duck’s mouth, more of the futures Indrid was enjoying popped up, and he smiled a little bit.

“You never cease to surprise me, Duck,” Indrid said. “So what is it you wished to ask me?”

He placed a cup of eggnog in front of Duck and sat opposite him at the small table in his camper. It was nothing special, just a typical plastic table with a bench that was just a little bit too small. Indrid smiled as he watched Duck fiddle with the cup. He seemed to be trying to find the right words.

“How do you - how do you deal with seeing the future? How do you know which ones’ll come true?” Duck said. Ah, so they were in this timeline then.

Indrid leaned casually on the table. “Well, you’ve seen my drawings, obviously, and you’ve seen me at work. Typically, it starts with an event that creates ripples. A person will say or do something seemingly insignificant, but it will affect every single future to come. That being said, sometimes there are multiple futures that can branch off of one incident, but those futures are whittled down by other factors. Things as small as the temperature outside, the wind levels, whether someone sneezes or doesn’t.” He paused. “My best outlet is my drawings and my knowledge that worst-case scenarios are just that— worst case. Disaster scenarios are always present— floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, even something as dramatic as a meteor but these futures are so unlikely that—”

“Sorry, did you say meteor?” Duck interrupted.

“I did, but even as you asked that, that situation became less likely,” Indrid said with a knowing smile. Duck’s cheeks grew red as he continued to listen and he took a small sip of his eggnog. “But those futures are already so unlikely to happen that I try not to worry too much about them. It isn’t worth concerning myself over an almost impossible future, doing that would be maddening. And there are some less dramatic examples, like ones where I have relations with others that I have to ignore so that I don’t affect those outcomes.”

“But what if one of those situations were to become more likely? What would you do then?” Duck asked.

“I would have to warn my friends and family that already know of my abilities to avoid another… incident.”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry, that was real rude of me,” Duck said, face burning crimson again.

“Pay it no mind,” Indrid said with a dismissive wave. “What’s done is done. I may be able to see the future, but I cannot change the past.”

There was silence for a moment as Duck considered his next words carefully. Indrid smiled patiently, but he reached for a pencil and sketchbook he kept handy if a future popped up that demanded recording. He drew idly as he waited for Duck to speak.

Duck finally spoke, “Hey so, this is gonna - this’ll sound awful strange Indrid, but I, uh, I’m… Chosen. I get these visions where I see— I see disasters and I see issues I need to fix and it has been drivin’ me insane.”

Indrid ceased drawing as Duck started talking. Suddenly, he was flooded with an array of new futures. In simply telling Indrid of his status as a Chosen, Duck created new timelines, many of which featured the two of them together.

“I see,” Indrid said simply, “Er, my apologies for my short response, many futures have just been deleted from existence and many new ones just popped up. It’s rather… overwhelming. That doesn’t happen often, Duck.”

“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry, shit,” Duck said, reaching out to Indrid almost reflexively.

“As I said before, pay it no mind. These things happen,” Indrid said. The wave of futures was calming down, and his mind was once again a dull roar of possible outcomes. He scrapped the drawing he had been working on, and pushed the pad and pencil aside. There were too many variables in the upcoming futures for him to truly see which ones he needed to record. “Duck, being Chosen is something very...special. I have known since we met what you are, but I have very little details on it due to you not truly understanding it either, am I correct?”

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t got shit,” Duck said. A small laugh bubbled up through Indrid as Duck spoke.

“I figured as much. Being Chosen isn’t easy - it is never easy to be special, but you are doing a wonderful job, Duck. You do what must be done and you truly care for the wellbeing of others. Even for someone such as myself, who could have been a temporary aid.”

“Indrid, man, you know you’re more than just a tool, right?” Duck said, “As useful as havin’ you around has been, that's not all you’re good for. You’re funny, and clever, and altogether a really great guy. Despite how you act, you care about Earth. For fuck’s sake, you called us to warn us about Leo. And the runaway train!”

For a moment, Indrid was in shock. No one in all the years he had lived had ever said anything so kind to him. And this man, this ridiculous Chosen man, who had known him for less than a month, was shouting his praises. It was… unusual, to say the least.

“Look, Indrid, I… I should go, but I meant what I said. You aren’t just a fuckin’ pawn or some shit, you’re our - well, you’re our friend.” And then Duck stood up from the table and left. And Indrid was left staring at his wall of drawings. And he was left with a decision.

It wasn’t often that Indrid put himself in harm’s way on purpose. He usually tried his damndest to avoid conflict in any situation, but this was different for him. He allowed the goat man to take him hostage and beat him within an inch of his life. Mainly because he knew that the Pine Guard would save him eventually, but also because he knew that Duck needed to see that he would only get in the way. Since Duck had visited him last, Indrid had reflected on the visions he’d been having.

He realized that he was affecting the future, changing it to better fit his own desires. If there were two paths, one leading to Duck and the other leading away from him, Indrid would take the path that led to Duck. At first, he didn’t even notice it. He would see himself tapping three times instead of four and would stop himself at three without paying it any mind. When he finally realized what he had been doing, he forced himself to stop. But going against a future already set in motion was an insurmountable task, even for him. There was no telling how his new choices could affect the future. So Indrid simply tried to stop caring.

That’s why he was telling himself that getting captured was important. He was positive that if Duck were to see him weak and afraid and in pain, he would turn away, run even, like everyone always had. Then there was, of course, the added variable of Duck probably being forced to see Indrid’s true form and be horrified once again.

And, while Indrid would never admit it, there were far too many futures where Duck was horribly injured when Indrid wasn’t there versus the few when Indrid was.

So when Indrid saw Duck burst through the clearing, wielding his sword and positively terrified, he was positive that this would be the last straw for him.

But it wasn’t.

Duck freed him from the chains, or he tried to at least, and in doing so he damaged his Chosen weapon, a feat that Indrid knew was difficult unless the Chosen really wanted to. When Duck punched him to get the glasses off, Indrid didn’t see fear of him in his eyes as he became “The Mothman”, he saw fear for him as Duck urged him to run. So, like Indrid did best, like he always had, he ran.

Indrid couldn’t bring himself to leave Kepler, despite that being the best option for everyone involved. There were many futures where he left and went somewhere far away where none of them would be able to find him, but he once again ignored those futures and stayed put in his greasy Winnebago.

When Duck and the Pine Guard finally defeated the Bom-Bom, it was already dark out. Indrid had enchanted another item for him to wear - an old necklace he kept hidden away - and was waiting with baited breath for Duck to arrive. Indrid knew he would come and insist on giving him the glasses back, but Indrid couldn’t take them, or else it could lead to some of the more serious futures. It was frustrating having to avoid a future he wanted, but he needed Duck to make the decision.

“Hey, Indrid, I’m-I’m here. I brought your glasses back, but the gang doesn’t know I’m doing this, so let’s keep it on the DL?” Duck pushed the door to the Winnebago open slowly and looked around the small camper. Indrid was sitting on his couch, head in his hands, as he saw the futures swimming through his mind. The punch Duck had delivered had been solid, but the time he had spent unconscious when the goat-man had taken him was the time that was only just now flooding back to him.

“Shit, Indrid, are you okay?” Duck rushed over, seemingly forgetting the reason he had come, and he knelt in front of Indrid. Indrid peeked at Duck, and saw a look of concern he was unfamiliar with.

“Too much. Just a moment,” he spoke. Duck simply nodded and made himself more comfortable beside Indrid on the small couch. He bounced his leg anxiously as Indrid attempted to collect himself. His whole body seemed to be vibrating with… something neither of them could quite put their finger on. “Alright.”

“You feel better now?”

“Yes, I am fine now. My apologies, I saw that you were coming and had to rush to enchant this new item so I may not look exactly as you remember.” It was true. Indrid’s form was similar, but there were certain things about him that were different. He was slightly closer to Duck’s height now, and his hair was quite a bit cleaner and shorter than it was before. The most noticeable difference, however, was that he was much broader than before, so the camper felt a little smaller.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay. You know,” Duck started, and then paused to bite his lip as if he were contemplating his next words, “you know, I was… worried you would be gone by the time I got here. I practically flew here, I ran so goddamn fast, never run that fast in my life.”

“I appreciate your concern, Duck, but I am quite alright. I… figured you’d be coming by so I stayed put to see what you had to say,” he said. The lie slipped so easily across his tongue, but it tasted like poison. Indrid knew that he’d only stayed because he was selfish and wanted one last chance to see one of those futures through.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Duck said. His face lit up and he sat up a little straighter. “I-I-I mean the Pine Guard is glad, you were real helpful and, uh, yeah you’re a good dude and shit.” Indrid laughed. Duck had no idea how wrong he was.

“I put myself in harm’s way,” he said, “How is that helpful?”

“You kept them distracted. You must have known what would happen with the goat-man and how it would change shit for us. Because of you, they were distracted.”

“Yes, I make a good distraction, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Duck said. His voice was deep and loud, and his eyes narrowed at Indrid. “What I meant to say was thank you. I’m sorry I punched you, but I’m glad you are okay. Sorry I yelled, but you have a thick skull for someone who knows what'll happen.”

“I can't help it,” Indrid said with a small, satisfied smile, “I like seeing you all riled up.” He was teasing, of course he was teasing, but his words held some truth. Seeing Duck so fiercely protective made something inside Indrid just kind of smile.

A couple days after the bom-bom was beaten, the door to Indrid's Winnebago slammed against the wall as Duck burst inside. Indrid had been expecting the action, but it caused him to jump nonetheless.

“Duck? Is everyone alright?”

“Indrid, man, I-I'm - I think I'm broken,” Duck said, voice wavering, “I'm not - 'm not tough! I'm not fast or special, I'm just Duck fuckin’ Newton now. I'm helpless, for fuck's sake I asked a gigantic fuckin’ magical cat for a fuckin’ helmet because I am scared shitless. I have never felt so fuckin’ vulnerable in my life, Indrid. What the hell am I supposed to do?” He was pacing about the camper with his hands running through his hair.

Indrid was unsure of what to do at this point, so he took a breath and considered his words carefully. “Duck, I am sorry this has happened to you. This is far more than even I could have predicted. This is a path that seemed so unlikely I gave it no thought.”

It was the truth, not the whole truth, but the truth. Indrid hadn't paid it much mind because it seemed like a disaster scenario, but he'd dwelled on this event longer than the others because of his personal feelings for Duck.

“I am sorry, Duck Newton, I am truly sorry. What you do now is entirely up to you. I see… futures where you are injured and I see futures where you prevail without a scratch, but Duck?” Indrid paused, looking at Duck and biting his lip, unsure of if he should say what he was about to say, but he took a deep breath and spoke, “You are still Chosen. Losing your powers doesn't change that you were Chosen out of billions of people to protect Kepler. You will have to be more careful now, so you don't wind up dead, but so long as you aren’t careless, you’re going to be amazing.”

Indrid felt his heart pull painfully as he took in Duck's full appearance. There were purple bags under his eyes, new wrinkles had formed on his forehead, his shirt was half untucked. Really, he just looked like absolute hell.

“Indrid? You really think all that?” Duck looked up at him.

“Oh Duck, of course I do,” Indrid said, voice betraying something slightly softer than what he’d meant to say. Duck smiled at him and Indrid felt his heart soar. Life was difficult knowing everything that could happen, but Duck made things a little easier to bear.

The two of them talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything. Duck ranted about the expectations that came with being Chosen, Indrid reminded him that he was the one holding himself to those impossible standards. Indrid talked briefly about the more explicit futures he would see, and Duck laughed. The sound was music to Indrid’s ears. Duck talked softly about his sister, June. Indrid said that he’d love to meet her someday, to which Duck responded that it might be hard to explain his whole ‘Winnebago eggnog weirdness’ (Duck’s words, not his).

It was the happiest Indrid had ever been.

Indrid was exhausted. The futures where Duck confessed to him had gotten more and more likely as the weeks went on. They’d begun speaking more frequently, Duck came to the Winnebago more often, and Indrid had even visited Duck’s apartment once; he had the cutest cat that liked to curl up on Indrid’s lap. His life was becoming more involved with the Pine Guard. They’d tried to get him to come with them to the lodge a few times, but he refused, citing that he didn’t really fit in with the rest of the Sylphs.

Today was one of the days where Indrid was staring at the many drawings he’d made of the two of them, debating on whether he should act or not. He’d honestly been waiting to see if Duck even wanted something like that in this timeline, but he was growing impatient. Duck was a hard man to read. He’d say one thing, but his eyes would say another. He’d do one thing with certain motivations, but his actual motivations would be vastly different. As always, Duck Newton was an enigma.

Lost in thought, Indrid almost ignored the ringing of his phone.

“Hello, Duck, how are you?”

“Good, good, I’m all good here. Hey, listen, I’m headed over right now, I needa talk to you about some— some shit, is now good for you? Or should I come later? I can come later if that’s better, I ain’t got anything else to do.”

“Right now is fine, I’ll be busy drawing, so just come in when you arrive.”

“Gotcha, I’ll, uh, see you in a bit man.” Before Indrid could say anything, Duck hung up the phone. As he looked to the future, Indrid was surprised to see almost no futures where Duck ‘made a move’ as it were. There was one, but it was highly unlikely, and would only be determined moments before it happened. With a frown, Indrid studied the futures, looking as far ahead as his vision would allow, and he drew out various likely events and pinned them to his wall. He didn’t know how much time had passed by the time Duck got there, but the door swung open slowly as Duck peered into the Winnebago.

“Ah, Duck, good to see you,” Indrid said, “please, take a set, feel free to get yourself some eggnog from the fridge.”

“Uh, yeah, nah, I’m good man, just uh— I’m good.” He stood awkwardly near the door and bounced from one foot to the other, looking around the small home. It had gotten significantly cleaner since Duck had started visiting, but it was a still barely organized. The awkwardness Duck felt was coming off him in waves.

Indrid set his pencil down and turned to him with, what he hoped, was a reassuring smile. “What’s on your mind, Duck Newton?”

Duck fidgeted for a moment before looking up at Indrid, his eyebrows knitted. “I, uh, I needed to ask about some stuff, like the next Abomination, ‘cause we’re gettin’ real close to the time frame, and we’re all gettin’ super nervous ‘n’ everything and so we just wanna, ya know, know?”

“Well, uh, that is still a little outside of my vision, but I will be sure to let you know what’s happening as soon as I know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean, of course,” Duck said. He stood there, bouncing from foot to foot faster than before.

“Was there… something else you needed?” Indrid stood up, trying to look as non-threatening as he possibly could in his tall, lanky, not-quite-human form.

“Well, yeah, shit— I-I— shit, ‘Drid, this is fuckin’ weird,” Duck laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the ground, “I just, well I just wanted to say thank you for everything in the last little while here. It’s been— it’s been real rough without Minerva and without, you know, havin’ all my powers. I’m just a regular ass dude now, and I have pains I never knew I had everywhere. Shit, dude, I feel so much older. But yeah, um, thank you for helpin’ me out and for listenin’ to me all the time.”

Indrid nodded, “Of course, Duck. I know what you went through, maybe better than others on account of my own abilities, but I can never truly understand. I try, Duck, and I’m glad I’ve helped, if even a little bit.”

“You’ve done more than a little bit,” Duck said, stepping closer, “you’ve— you’ve listened and you’ve cared— or at least acted like it— and you’re literally always home and willing to let me come over, even at two in the fuckin’ morning.”

Before he could stop himself, Indrid’s face softened as he looked at Duck and said, “I would do anything for you, Duck Newton.”

As soon as the words left Indrid’s mouth, his eyes opened in slight shock. He was not meant to say that out loud, not in any of the likely timelines anyways, and that could only mean—

Duck surged forward and pressed his lips to Indrid’s. It was forceful, but soft at the same time. Finally, finally, Indrid was experiencing what his visions had shown him, and it was much more overwhelming to feel everything rather than see it from an outsider’s view. But it was so, so nice, and it just felt right.

Duck pulled back, suddenly all nerves and aware of himself, and held up his hands between them. Indrid only laughed and shook his head, and then he pulled Duck back in. This wonderful, perfect, strange enigma of a man was finally within his grasp and Indrid was never letting go.

And he knew he was fucked.

But he didn’t honestly give a shit.

#5 times #5+1 things #5+1 fic #5 times Indrid saw the future vs the 1 time he didn't #taz #the adventure zone #taz amnesty #indruck #duck is trans #mcelroys #indrid cold #duck newton #rockin writes

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