#Hopefully one day I can talk about my schemes and notes and all that weird stuff more openly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

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

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

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

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

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

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

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

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

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

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

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

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

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

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

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

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

“Guess, Sherlock.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

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

“HEY!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

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

“You were not--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fishnets have a point!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

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

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

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

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

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

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

the bis won

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

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

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

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

queen stop its embarrassing

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

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

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

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

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

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

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

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

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

It’s a knife.

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

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

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

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

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

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

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

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

“A knife.”

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

“Yes.”

“No!”

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

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it because you’re bald?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

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

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

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

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

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

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHIT!”

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

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

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

“I’d never do that, baby.”

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, she does.” James chimes.

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

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

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

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

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

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

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

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katyasrussianaccent · 4 years ago

Text

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

#my fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband/reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x yn #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse smau #corpse imagine

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dakotacrisis · 3 years ago

Text

Cherry Blossoms (4)

And I am back in time for another update right at the end of pride month. Plan was to get this whole story posted during the month but that did not happen. Oh well, people are still gay in July. Just a whole lot less corporate pandering.

As far as things with Kagami and Marinette are going...well...plans go awry fast.

Read on AO3

---

Adrien was not joking around with what he called Operation Cherry Blossoms. A.K.A. Operation Get-Marinette-To-Fall-In-Love-With-Kagami. He had even called in reinforcements. When Kagami showed up at his house as he requested Alya was also there with a full slideshow presentation prepared. They went over Marinette’s likes and dislikes. Her favorite things and places to go.

There was even a theory discussion about Marinette’s sexuality and why she never seems to fall in love with anyone. The long standing belief was that she was possibly somewhere on the Ace spectrum but that was a whole other thing to get into. Right now they were working with the hope that Marinette did want to experience romantic love and hopefully that romantic love spread to girls. They all knew Marinette wasn’t straight but she never gave them a definite title so the mass consensus was that she was at least bi.

“Guys,” Kagami stopped them, “This is all very thoughtful of you but isn’t this a little weird?”

Alya paused her presentation to turn to her. “What about this is weird?”

“You are literally showing me a presentation on what Marinette is like. I know what she’s like. I don’t need to know that her third favorite ice cream flavor is Very Cherry Chocolate Swirl. I need advice on how to get closer to her so that I’m not stumbling over myself trying to talk to her. The fact that I am nervous enough to stammer around her is baffling to me. I never hesitate to go for stuff that I want but with Marinette...I…”

Adrien sighed. “We know and you’re right. We need a different approach. Giving her a Marinette quiz isn’t gonna help her win her over.”

“Fair enough,” Alya closed out of the powerpoint with a small frown. “What should we do then?”

“Well we can go over the different tactics we used to try and woo Marinette.” Adrien shrugged, “They didn’t work obviously but there was stuff that we did that she liked. Ironically enough she really liked getting flowers in my experience.”

“Yeah, doing little stuff like buying her favorite candy or sending her pictures of cute hamsters worked when I was trying to flirt with her.” Alya said.

“Okay, this is good, tell me more about this kind of stuff.” Kagami started taking notes on her phone.

“She appreciates when you plan something.” Adrien said, “I planned this big day together where we went to a bunch of places I knew she loved to shop, got lunch at her favorite cafe, and topped it off with seeing a movie she had been raving about. She really seemed to love it. Of course while I was trying to flirt and stuff she was only seeing it as a nice day out with a friend.”

“That is a dangerous line to walk,” Alya sighed, “You could plan the most romantic date ever and she would only be able to see it as a friendly gesture if you aren’t straight up with her about your intentions. I love her to death but the girl is so oblivious it actually hurts.”

“So how am I supposed to flirt with her without making it obvious that I am in love with her?”

“You can’t really. That’s the problem.” Alya said.

“Then why are we even here? If she’s too oblivious to notice someone is flirting with her and she gets spooked when someone is upfront with their feelings then how am I supposed to get anywhere with her?” Kagami asked, flabbergasted by this never ending cycle of pining and failure that was the pursuit of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Schemes. Romantic schemes. Like they do in romantic comedy movies.” Adrien said proudly.

Kagami turned to Alya, deadpanned, “Is he serious?”

“I think you two are underestimating how well this can work.” Adrien pulled up his own powerpoint presentation titled, Romantic Comedy Schemes and Why They Worked.

“Oh sweet baby swiss cheese,” Alya sighed, “Adrien, I told you this wasn’t a viable plan.”

“Hear me out!” Adrien pleaded.

“Fine!”

“Seriously?” Alya gaped at Kagami, “You want to actually hear this boy list off how the note cards from Love Actually was the ultimate romantic gesture or some crap like that?”

“It’s not like I have a whole lot of options.” Kagami threw her hands up, “It’s either romantic comedy shenanigans or trying to flirt with Marinette on my own. Neither seem viable but at least this one is less likely to make me puke up flowers. Go ahead, Agreste. Let’s hear your attack strategy.”

“All right!” Adrien beamed as he clicked to the next slide, “Let’s start with the proper setting.”

---

Kagami could not believe that she was doing this. She had agreed to it but it still seemed ridiculous. No. It didn’t ‘seem’ ridiculous, it ‘was’ ridiculous! This whole plot Adrien concocted with the help of Alya and a watchmojo top ten list of most romantic movie dates was utterly insane. If Kagami wasn’t desperate she would have said no. But she was. She was desperate and in love and desperately in love with the most wonderful yet naive girl in the world.

Adrien was walking with Kagami towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Right into the belly of the beast. Adrien kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they got closer. Kagami balled her hands in the fabric of her jacket. She can do this. They stopped outside the bakery and Adrien turned to her.

“You okay? You got this?”

“I’m okay. I can do this.” Kagami nodded, “And you’re sure this will work?”

“Only one way to find out.” Adrien said, “Quick cough, make sure there’s no loose flower petals that are gonna come popping out.”

Kagami grabbed her handkerchief and coughed into it a few times but no petals came up. They were good for now at least. She stuffed the hanky back in her pocket and followed Adrien into the bakery. It was fairly slow at this time and Marinette was standing by herself at the counter and flipping through a magazine. Kagami’s stomach flipped upon seeing her and she could swear she felt that tickle in her throat again.

Adrien ushered her forward with a hand on the small of her back. “Hey Marinette,” Adrien greeted her cheerfully, “Working hard as usual I see.”

“Oh hey guys,” Marinette smiled at them. She slid her magazine away. “What brings you by?”

“Well Kagami here wanted to order a custom cake for an upcoming special event and you know more about this stuff than me so I figured you could help us out.”

“Of course, I love assembling custom cakes,” Marinette pulled out a large binder from behind the counter. “First thing is first, how many people does this need to feed and what is your budget?”

“Budget is unlimited,” Adrien handed her his credit card, “and you can get all of the rest of the details from Kagami. Unfortunately I cannot stick around. I have a photoshoot I gotta run to but you two have fun. Kagami, get my card back to me after alright?”

What? This wasn’t part of the plan! Adrien was supposed to stay! He wasn’t supposed to leave her alone. Was this his plan all along? Oh she was going to kill him later! That hopeless romantic airheaded jerk was gonna have Kagami’s foot so far up his butt her foot would stick out of his mouth by the time she’s through with him.

Adrien patted Kagami on the top of her head and whispered into her ear, “Relax, you’ll be fine.” He bid the girls goodbye and left without another look back.

“Okay then,” Marinette was completely unperturbed by Adrien sudden departure, “Let’s get started on that cake.” She turned around to shout to the back of the bakery, “Mama! Can you come run register? I gotta help take a cake order.”

“Sure thing sweetie,” Mrs. Cheng came up to the front, “Oh Kagami, how nice to see you again. Are you ordering the cake? We’ll be sure to put it at the top of our list just for you.”

“Thank you,” Kagami said. She followed Marinette back through the bakery and into the apartment stairwell.

“We’ll have more privacy here,” Marinette sat down on the step, “Now how many people was this going to serve?”

“Uh…” Kagami racked her brain. She really didn’t need an actual cake. She wasn’t even that big into sweets. Adrien was paying for it too so she didn’t want to go overboard. Since Adrien was paying for it she supposed she could just assemble something she thought he would like and give it to him and Alya as a sort of thanks for helping her out. “Two people.”

“Smaller cake then, alright,” Marinette jotted down the information, “Did you want something like a tart or a cake?”

“Cake.”

“One or two layers?”

“One.”

“And specific shape? We can do a circle, rectangle, square, we can even do a heart if this is for something or someone special.” Marinette giggled. “Or maybe you just think little heart shaped cakes are cool.”

“Circle is fine.” Kagami choked back the petals in her throat trying to escape.

“And what kind of flavor were you thinking for the cake? We have lots of different options.”

“Uh...vanilla?”

“Simple, classic, love it.” Marinette continued on. “And what about filling? We have a lovely cherry filling that I think you would adore. I know how much you like cherry and we do use real chopped cherries in the filling.”

“Sure,”

“Great. I gotta know, what is this cake for? Adrien said it was for a very special event you were planning. What’s going on?”

“Oh it’s nothing really.”

“Come on, tell me, I’m curious,” Marinette scooted closer with her chin resting in her hands, “You said it was for two people. Is this maybe for a romantic date you have planned?”

“What? No! That’s not--” Kagami tried to back away but her back was already pressed into the stair railing, “Definitely not a date. This was--this was um--” Quick Kagami! Think of something! Anything! “Actually,” she said, “This was supposed to be a present for Adrien but then he offered to pay and I couldn’t tell him that it was for him cause it was supposed to be a surprise so now I’m kind of in a box about it.”

“A present for Adrien?” Marinette asked, “That’s sweet. Why are you getting him a present? Is there some sort of anniversary coming up?”

“No. I just thought it would be a nice gesture since we’re good friends and all.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Well that is just wonderful.” Marinette said, “If this is for Adrien then maybe we want to change the filling to passionfruit. I know that’s his favorite. Did you want to do that instead?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Kagami breathed out in relief. Dodged that bullet.

The girls spent the rest of the time constructing the perfect cake that they thought Adrien would like. It wasn’t the most romantic setting but it did give them ample time alone. Kagami hadn’t even noticed how fast the time was flying by as their conversation kept drifting from the cake form to other topics. At some point they had started leaning on one another with tears in their eyes as they laughed about a croissant eating contest Marinette’s school had put on and the disastrous results that ensued.

“I am telling you,” Marinette took a moment to breathe, “We had no idea where she was putting them all. Alix just kept downing croissant after croissant like she was pac-man. For someone so small she has a huge stomach.”

“I bet that angered Kim to no end.” Kagami laughed.

“Oh you have no idea. Poor guy was trying so hard to keep up but just couldn’t do it.” Marinette shook her head. She laid down so her head was resting in Kagami’s lap. “I need a minute. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I can scarcely breathe.”

“Me either.” Kagami’s hand automatically went to Marinette’s hair and started running her hands through it. “How did we even get to this point? I’m fairly certain we were trying to create a cake for Adrien before this.”

“We were,” Marinette closed her eyes under Kagami’s attentions, “I’m just using you as an excuse to not have to wait on customers. That’s why I keep prolonging this.”

“And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

“I do. I love hanging out with you.” Marinette sighed, “I love it even more when you play with my hair. I feel like a little kitten getting lovies and pets.��

“You would make an adorable kitten.” Kagami said. The urge to cough came upon Kagami and she tried to swallow it back. It was a miracle she hadn’t dissolved into a coughing fit while she was laughing earlier. Marinette’s eyes were closed so hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

Kagami gave a quick cough to clear the petals but they were stuck and weren’t coming loose from such meager means. Crap. She tried a few more tiny coughs but it was only aggravating her more.

“You okay?” Marinette sat up, “Allergies again? Or do you just have a tickle in your throat.”

“I’m fine,” she turned away as her coughing got more violent. Stupid flower petals! Stupid disease! Marinette ran a hand up and down her back to ease the ache.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?”

“Water would be good,” Kagami answered in a hoarse voice. At least with Marinette gone she could get these petals out without her noticing. Marinette ran off to get her some water and Kagami started coughing hard hoping to dislodge the petals quickly before Marinette got back. What Kagami did not count on was Marinette being so darn fast and racing back to their spot with a water bottle in hand just as Kagami got the petals out. She had a hand clamped over her mouth with the petals settled in her palm.

She closed her fist around the petals and stuffed her hand in her pocket to hide the petals. “Thanks Marinette,” Kagami took the water.

“No problem, oops, you got a little something there.” Marinette reached a hand out and plucked something from Kagami’s chin. Double crap! One of the petals must have gotten stuck to her chin.

Marinette turned the petal over in the light. The recognition of what it was hitting her and the realization settling in as she put the pieces together. The cough. The petal. There was only one explanation.

“Oh dear,” Marinette frowned with worry, “Kagami? Are you alright? Please be honest with me, do you have Hanahaki disease?”

There was no point lying now. Marinette already knew. Might as well get it over with and end the suffering now.

“Yes,” Kagami pulled the petals out of her pocket, “I have for a while now.”

“Oh I am so sorry!” Marinette cried out, “I know how much that sucks. It’s such an unfair disease.”

“I am painfully aware,” Kagami scoffed, “At least they’re small.”

“Pretty too,” Marinette handed her the petal back. “So you have an unrequited love?”

“Big time.”

“Have you confessed?”

“No. That’s why I’m here. This, ordering the cake, it was supposed to help in some way. It seems silly now. I’m usually so upfront with people about what I want and what I feel but this whole ordeal has thrown me for a loop.” Kagami kept her head down. She didn’t want to see Marinette’s face when she rejected her.

“I see,” Marinette pulled her in for a hug. “It’s okay, Kagami. I don’t think it was stupid at all.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” Marinette pulled back far enough to look in Kagami’s eyes, “I think telling someone how you feel over a delicious cake is a swell way to go about it. The fact that you are going to all this trouble for Adrien is so heartwarming.”

“Adrien?” Kagami looked at her confused. Why was she talking about Adrien… “Oh sweet baby swiss cheese,”

“Was this Alya’s idea?” Marinette asked, “She says that a lot so I figured that’s where you picked it up. Alya is great, always prepared for everything. Might go a little overboard but she’s a good person to go to for stuff like this.”

“Marinette, about Adrien--”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything.” Marinette hugged her again, “This will stay just between us. And do not worry about the cake. This one is on us. We will make sure it is perfect for your confession date, whenever you have that planned. Adrien would have to be insane not to fall in love with you.”

“Uh huh, this whole thing is so insane.” Kagami muttered. Operation Cherry Blossoms just got a whole lot more complicated.

---

(First) (Previous) (Next)

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #kagami tsurugi #kagaminette #marigami #hanahaki disease au

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forkanna · 4 years ago

Link

WARNING: Very N S F W. Includes sisterly incest, cunnilingus, anal play, tickling, foot worship, and as you probably expected... food kink.

Notes: HAPPY CORONATION DAY! I've been hanging onto this since I posted chapter 5 both because I wanted to make sure it was just right, and I thought it deserved to be released on an important day in the fandom's history: the date Elsa was crowned Queen of Arendelle in 1844. (We know this thanks to some smart cookies on Reddit haha)

So I know this should technically be from Elsa's POV if I continued to follow the convention I set up for myself, but I decided to keep writing it as Anna. It's been her story from the beginning and it should end as her story. Plus it's an epilogue, so it doesn't have to follow the rest of the fic's format! So there! AHAHAHAHA… I don't know, I'm tired.

And YES, this is the end. No sequels, no Epilogues-To-Epilogues; the MSB grand finale. I know a lot of you may have not seen my mention of an epilogue in the notes for last chapter, so hopefully you'll see this! If any of you want to continue Elsa and Anna's story in your own spinoff fanfics, be my guest (but please credit me); otherwise, I consider MSB to be at its natural ending. Hope you all enjoy the last slice!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has waited this long for what is essentially a one-off smutty fic about D*sney sisters to be finished. I owe so much to this story; it changed my life in a very literal, very unexpected way. Elsa and Anna's true love thawed my jaded heart and encouraged me to keep writing, even when I was sank deep in the darkness of a miserable life, and to explore who I am in ways I never felt brave enough to do. I'm in such a better place now than when this began. It's been a pleasure being part of this fandom, and hopefully I will continue to enjoy it for a long time to come.

Until we meet again,

Jessex

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

EPILOGUE

Min Søsters Bursdagsmadrass: Anna

~ Five Months Later ~

Okay, okay, not quite five months have passed since we saved our kingdom from my sister's magic. Closer to four-and-a-half. But the time has flown by so much that it feels more like a week.

Kristoff and Sven came galloping up to the gates just as we were exiting. The ice boy was a lot less shocked that I was arm-in-arm with Elsa than I expected; probably because he pretty much already caught us in flagrante delicto before. He tried to offer congratulations, and I gave him a big hug to cut through all that awkwardness.

Olaf showed up not long after. Well, we came across a puddle that used to be Olaf; I'd know that carrot nose anywhere. Before I could start sobbing, Elsa calmly created a little ice-flurry and rebuilt him as easy as if she were breathing; he was disoriented, but didn't take long to be back to his cheerful self, hugging us and congratulating us on figuring out that we belonged together. That made sense the more I thought about it. Seriously, why wouldn't our snow-baby always know his parents should stay together?

Naturally, there were a few people who came to the levee that didn't condone our love. I wish I could say differently. Most of them were either too afraid to speak out against us — probably because my sister was some kind of ice witch, that tends to make even the bravest of men need a change of underwear — or they were genuinely happy we were happy, and summer was back. But one or two tried to shame us. Didn't go well, considering we were the monarchy and surrounded by supporters. More insisted we needed a king, at the very least for the purpose of heirs. I tried to tell them that Olaf was our heir, which got a lot of weird looks, but Elsa insisted that it was our decision if and when we crossed that bridge. I guess that's why she's the queen, right? I mean, can you imagine me as the queen of Arendelle? No way!

Hans was tried and convicted of treason against the kingdom. I didn't even go; I didn't want to look at him again if I could help it. But I watched from the castle walls with my sister as they led him away to a ship bound for the Southern Isles. We figured his family would make sure the sentence was severe if they wanted to maintain a good trade partnership with Arendelle. Plus, we wouldn't have to deal with him still being in our home. Win-win.

We also shipped old Weaseltown out. He can peacock-strut and backstab on his own turf.

Everything flew by a lot faster after those first few days. Kristoff was our new icemaster general — totally a real title, thank you — and Olaf's cheery presence got everyone used to the idea of magic. The people slowly grew to accept that their queen had a queen of her own. At first, we tried not to be too open with our relationship, but even though everybody thinks of me as the free spirit, it was Elsa who decided we should begin taking walks through the kingdom, hand-in-hand. At first, we got a few stinkeyes, but little by little, they saw we were happy, and not hurting anyone with our taboo love, and… it just became normal, I guess.

Which is fantastic! I mean, if they didn't I would have bought a whole collection of lutes to start smacking them with, but that didn't turn out to be necessary. Good thing; a co-queen shouldn't brawl with her subjects. Looks kinda bad.

As we hit the middle of December and the weather was turning colder without my sister's influence, I started scheming. We had enjoyed four wonderful months of getting to know each other all over again. Even though I'm basically a big ball of libido, somehow Elsa convinced me that we shouldn't just start banging each other's brains out every day. How dare she! But I have to admit, having that sex-free courtship time was somehow a magic all its own.

Because we were behind. By thirteen years. I found out just how well-read my sister was, since she had ploughed through book after book when she wasn't trying to practice controlling her magic. That was something we had in common, since I was often equally bored; it turned out we had read a lot of the same books, and we could compare our thoughts and feelings about them over many, many cups of tea. She never did start talking to paintings like I did, but when I introduced them to her, at least she was bemusedly giggling behind her hand instead of openly mocking me, or telling me I needed medical attention. And we went horseback riding, and swimming, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Started going through our parents' things at last, painful though it was. Learned about the kind of adults we had become since we last knew each other as children.

And kissed, sure. Just because we didn't start rolling around in the bed sheets right away didn't mean I was going to let us be complete prudes.

However… my sister's birthday was fast approaching, and I knew I had to do something big. Maybe in a literal sense. So the scheming turned to plotting, and the plotting turned to planning. And then the plans got put in motion leading up to her big day.

~ o ~

"Alright, alright, Olaf! I'm going!"

"Sorry, Elsa, but there's no time to waste!" I could hear him replying to her from the other side of the door. I could just barely see her slippered feet and his snow stumps through the crack underneath. So weird doing that from the inside this time… "I guess. I've never had a birthday, but Anna told me this is your biggest one yet, and we got a schedule to keep!"

"Okay, little guy," she laughed at him easily. Even though I couldn't see, I could just picture her petting over his head. "Thank you."

"Yep! And oh, I was supposed to do something else, it was… yeeeessss! Anna told me I should 'get lost for the rest of the day'. So I guess my question is, does that mean until sundown? Or midnight? And how lost do I have to get? I can get lost just in this castle, it's so big, but she was pointing at the gates when she said it…"

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay Kristoff and Sven a visit? That should be far enough."

"But I won't be lost if I know where I'm going," he told her in a patient tone, as if she were the one who was missing something instead.

"My mistake," she laughed fondly. "Just have a little adventure outside of the castle and we will see you in the morning."

"Okie-dokie! Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do! Or do, because you're not me, so you should be doing things I wouldn't do? Maybe? Especially if I'm going to be getting lost and you don't need to be lost. I don't know if that's exactly…"

He was still talking by the time his voice started to fade around the corner. The rest of the sentence was cut off by Elsa knocking on my door.

"Go away, Elsa," I called back at her in an exaggeratedly pouty tone.

"Anna," she sighed. "Yes, I know I was the one saying that to you for a decade of our lives, but this joke is starting to get a little old now."

"Whaaaaaat? No, I don't think so."

"It's officially old as of today. Now, may I come in, or will you be coming out?"

"Think we both already did that last part," I giggled. "Did you, um, prepare?"

"For the love of- yes! Though I don't know why, I let Gerda bathe me thoroughly, and now I am standing outside your door, scrubbed raw and regretting that I listened to her, because you are being a pain in the-"

She didn't finish that thought because I unlocked the door just then. But I didn't open it for her. I was too busy scampering across the floor of my chambers to stand by the bed, grinning from ear-to-ear like a loon. And don't judge, okay? I'd been planning this for a long time.

"Um…" The door creaked open, and one of her baby blues peered around the inside of the darkened room. The sun had already set, so it was only the moonlight and the single candle on my bedside table providing illumination. "A-Anna?"

"Please enter," I said in a pretentiously royal tone.

"Oh, your robe is like mine," she said with a small smile as she eased the door shut behind her.

"Yep! Silk, from the East! I mean, you fill yours out a little better — especially up top. But that's one of the gifts. And I figured, hey, might as well get one for me, too!"

Barely glancing down at the blue silk covering her sizable assets, she shook her head with a small laugh. "It's very nice, thank you. But I thought I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal about my birthday; we should be focused on the Yule festivities for the kingdo-"

"No, no, no," I teased her with a wave of my index finger, bouncing on my heels excitedly. "This is the first time in thirteen years I have been able to celebrate this with you. Give me this one, okay?"

"When can we stop saying the number thirteen and start really enjoying our lives again?"

"When it's been fourteen years. Now… can you take that robe off and hop up on the bed for me?"

Oh, that shrewd little smirk that blossomed on my sister's face. It was both breathtakingly beautiful and super sexy. She was all the time, anyway, but there were moments that it stood out a lot more. "Ahhhh. So that's what all this is about, is it? You think tonight we are going to break our courtship."

"Mmmmaybe. But even if we don't, I still want more with you tonight. If that's okay," I added hastily, fidgeting with my hands behind my back.

"I see." Elsa stepped forward to smooth her hands up and down the green silk covering my chest, teasing her fingernails over my neck. Definitely not making it any easier to stop my lady parts from launching a hostile takeover of my brain, I can tell you! "And… this is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." Clearing my throat, I said, "And I understand why courting was important to you. And it's been great! Really, I loved getting to know you all over again, and we have been having so much fun. But… maybe just a little playing tonight? Please?"

As she glared across into my eyes, I brought my thumb and forefinger up between our faces, half an inch apart. That was all it took to make her burst out laughing.

"That little, hmm?" she finally chuckled as my cheeks burned. "Okay. I assume once I am in position, you will tackle me on this bed?"

"Yeah. Well, not 'tackle', but I'll join you. I just want you to feel how soft it is first."

That got Elsa's eyebrows raising in slight surprise. "Soft, hm? Did you get yourself a new bed for my birthday?"

"I dunno, did I?" I gasped. Hoping my acting skills were at least good enough to hide how excited I was.

Not quite. But at least Elsa hadn't fully figured out my cunning scheme. She pointed at my face and hissed under her breath, "There had better not be anyone hiding in here."

"Hiding? Wait, why would I stick anybody else in here and then tell you to take off your clothes?"

"How should I know? Sometimes you have a really strange sense of humour, Anna."

"Not that strange! Surprise creepy people sounds plain old mean!" But before she could say anything else, I placed a hand over my heart and raised the other one. "I do hereby solemnly pledge that nobody is going to jump out of the wardrobe at you. Or anything else like that."

"Fine, I believe you," she laughed as she stepped from her slippers and let the silk fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back. Even now that we had been going for walks and rides, she was still white as alabaster, despite the alternating tans and sunburns I had.

"Mmm…"

"Again, my birthday seems to be full of gifts for you," she accused playfully with a little glance over her shoulder at me as she approached the bed, moving to climb atop it. "Little pervAAAHHH?!"

SPLAT.

Nope, I definitely couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my middle and burst out into gales of laughter, shaking all over and trying my best not to fall down. "ELSA! Your face — you should see your face!"

"I'm- what is- ANNA!" my poor sister finally burst out as she slipped and slid everywhere, defiling all my hard work. "What is the meaning of this?! What IS this, where did- is this CAKE?!"

Cackling and bouncing up and down as I clapped my hands, I finally crowed, "YES! Isn't it incredible?! Doesn't it look just like my bed? I mean, it did before you jumped on it, but even still, the rest of it!"

God, she looked hilarious. I was laughing, but was doing my best not to actually point at Elsa while I did it. And anyone would have laughed; her face covered in so much chocolate and frosting, a huge chunk falling from her chin to splash onto her right breast even while she blinked at me in wonder. Never had our regal queen looked so un-regal.

"You… made… a bed-sized cake… just to play this prank on me." She scraped some of the frosting from her eyelids and flicked it away, turning slightly so she could kneel on the layers of confection. That only made me laugh so hard I snorted like a pig. "This is… I have no words. I literally have no words, I could never have anticipated this."

"Aww, don't be grumpy," I teased breathlessly as I got rid of my own robe, dropping it right next to hers. "Just because I got you good this time! You freaked out, it was the most amazing thing I've watched in my whole life!"

"Yes, well, the show is ov- Anna, what are you doing now? Don't tell me- are you going to jump into this cake with me?! That's insane!"

I hesitated. "Well… I was before you called it 'insane'…" But then I approached the edge of the bed, hands on my hips. No way was I going to chicken out that easily. "This wasn't just a prank. I really wanted to do this for you."

That finally got her to laugh, and when she started she found it hard to stop. I laughed with her, watching her slap her caked thigh a few times. But before I could join her on the bed, she suddenly breathed, "Insane… but beautiful. I've never seen a woman more lovely in the entire world."

My heart skipped over a beat, and I hoped she couldn't tell how hard my nipples were in the low light. "Ahhhhh, now you're just lying. We both know you own a mirror."

"Nice try," she laughed, biting her sugar-coated lip for a moment to weather my counter-compliment. Then she tilted her head slightly while asking, "Why? This is the strangest surprise I have ever received — and that includes that certain birthday of yours. But I can tell it means a lot to you, so could you help me…?"

Great. Now I had to actually face the music, and it was going to take a lot of exposing of feelings. So I took a deep breath before throwing my inhibitions to the wind... and letting my knees sink into the cake.

"That is so wrong," I groaned, feeling one of my eyes twitch.

"I know. But once you get used to it, it's… still wrong, but interesting." She was leaning slightly on one arm, moving her legs out to one side. Always so ladylike, even in a big mound of baked sweetness.

"So here it is," I sighed. "You and me, even when we were really little… chocolate was our soft spot. We could never resist it. And especially after my birthday, when we bonded over it again… I knew your birthday had to be something big, since I could finally celebrate it with you. Something that mattered to both of us. And fun! I thought fun was really important, too. Took me a while to figure out just how I wanted to do this, but once I had this idea, I just… I knew. This was the only thing that would be good enough."

Though she had been listening with a small smile, my last sentence wiped it away. Why? What did I say wrong? Her cake-slicked hand lifted to caress my cheek.

"Anna, anything would have been good enough. Even if this had turned out to be a normal bed, I would have been so happy. How much you spend, how much you plan these gifts, it's sweet but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Don't you know my favourite gift is you?"

My lips only got the chance to part very slightly — when she booped me. She booped my nose with frosting on that finger. The Queen of Arendelle, everybody.

"You little stinker." But her words kept me from retaliating. "You… you mean that, huh? That I'm enough?"

"I do." Her lips pecked mine. "You always have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to show you until these past few months. But now, I get to make up for lost time."

Sliding closer, I whispered, "Same here."

And that was as far as I could get before I was attacking her mouth. Elsa welcomed me gratefully, humming as she pulled my body closer. I knew she was getting cake all over me, but I had kind of resigned myself to that when I concocted this whole crazy scheme. Literally concocted.

Which was what she asked about next. "How long did this take to bake?"

"Oh, a couple of days. The trick was keeping the parts we already made fresh so they wouldn't spoil before we finished the rest of it. Kristoff helped me with that, grabbed me a few blocks of ice; normally I would ask you to do it with a little magic, but I mean, since it was a surprise for you that would have been pretty stupid."

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled, rubbing her fingertips against each other experimentally. "Smooth frosting… buttercream?"

"Of course! And I wanted to add a bunch of berries, but then it wouldn't have looked like my bed, because I don't normally have a bunch of berries on it." While Elsa laughed again, I slipped my arms around her waist. "And yeah, I know you still think it's weird I wanted to be in a cake like this. Plus it's a big waste of food. But for just this one birthday, the first one since we reunited, I wanted to give you something so big it was literally all around us. Like we're part of the cake instead of just the other way around."

Her voice was so gentle and warm when she responded, "I believed you the first time, Anna. But thank you for elaborating. I love knowing how you think, how your mind works. My amazing, clever sister."

Again, we kissed, deeper and longer and with no inhibitions. We tried to restrain ourselves when we were out in public, of course, but alone in my room? Nobody looking over our shoulders? Free as wild horses.

By the time we came up for air, I was no longer the clean one because we had been rolling around in the cake-bed. Sure, I still felt guilty for putting the castle cooks through so much work just so we could wreck it, but at least Kristoff and I gave them a hand — and I gave them the day off once they were through. Anyway, basically the only places where chocolate and frosting hadn't accumulated multiple layers was our faces, because they were so close to each other that nothing could get in between them.

"Are we supposed to be eating any of this?" Elsa laughed, running her finger through some on my shoulder.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have done this if it was just for show; this might as well have been a big frosted mud pie." Then I held up…

"Anna, where could you possibly have been hiding that?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elsa merely blinked at me for a few seconds until I caved. "Okay, I had it in my butt."

"What- that sounds incredibly painful!"

"No, no, I was just clenching my cheeks on the handle. Obviously! Like I used the handle outside your door that first time. Come on, do you really think anybody would stick the pointy part into anywhere that sensitive?"

"Well, it is you," she laughed as she reached for the fork. Our fork. "Though I suppose I admire the control you have over your muscles back there." Then she hesitated, her brow furrowing. I could figure out what was holding her back.

"I also took one of Gerda's very thorough baths," I informed her to put her fears at ease. Which made her finally take it with a slight shake of her head. "Oh — and I helped one of the servants mop the floor before we got started in here. Trust me, when I say you can eat off the floor, I really mean it this time."

"You really have thought of everything; such attention to detail. It's almost a little scary."

"Love makes you a little scary sometimes, I guess."

"I guess." Then she slid the fork through some of the cake that we hadn't already rolled in, bringing it up to my lips. "After you."

"Oh! Wait… you first, it's your birthday."

"Diving into it counted as me going first," she chuckled. "Besides, I tasted a little on your lips once they caught some from my lips. Go on." And since I had no argument against that, and she was looking at me with those bemused, insistent eyes, I took the bite into my mouth.

"Ohmyghob, ibzo goob!"

"Anna, manners." Which I could appreciate the irony, since there were very little manners involved in rolling around in a giant cake. Probably. Maybe they do that more often in Corona…

"You have GOT to try this," I gushed once I had swallowed, grabbing the fork and scooping up another big bite for my sister.

"Can't I have a different fork?" But I wasn't budging. And she knew how important that particular utensil was to the both of us. "Gerda bathed you the same way she bathed me, didn't she?"

"It was like standing in a geyser."

"Fine." She accepted her first proper bite. Her blue eyes slid closed in ecstasy as she hummed her approval, eventually nodding after she had chewed for a moment.

"Amazing, right?" All she did was nod, raising a hand to give the okay symbol. So I helped myself to another bite, clutching my hand to my chest as tears welled up in my eyes.

Seriously, it was that good. Best cake I ever had in my life, up to and including the one with my sister's extra frosting.

"Okay," Elsa panted a couple minutes later when we had eaten our fill for the moment. "I was teasing you before, but I take it all back; I do want to live here and sleep here."

"Surrounded by layers of chocolatey goodness?" I giggled as I flopped onto my back, spread eagle in piles of sweet perfection. It was like Heaven, or Valhalla or whatever you believe is the good afterlife.

"Exactly. Fun and function." I glanced over to see she was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow so she could look down at me with a smile full of so much affection that my heart skipped a beat. "So very you."

At first all I did was chuckle a little and smile up at her. But then when she leaned down to kiss my chest, I let my eyes fall closed as a little sigh escaped my lips. "Mmm…"

"You were after something like this, I believe?"

Opening my eyes again, I was just in time to see her tongue slide across the meat of my right breast, the one closest to her. The track of freckled skin she revealed by cutting through the chocolate confection gleamed from her saliva, and it was somehow both offensive and arousing at the same time.

"Y-yeah. Something like that." I cleared my throat and caressed along her back, through cake and hair. "But you don't have to. If that whole courting thing is so-"

"We can take a break," she interrupted with an impish smile. "One night, for both Yule and my birthday. And for you, because I know how hard it has been to keep your hands off me."

A blast of air exploded from my lungs as she licked again. "HAH! W-wow, somebody's conceited in here, and I think her name rhymes with… with, uh…"

"With what? Jelsa?"

"No, that's not a thing."

I was still trying to think of a rhyme for her name when she found my nipple, and my squeal blasted every thought out of both of our minds. My chest was a feast for my sister for the moment as my conscious thoughts faded, simply letting her enjoy me. Because I enjoyed it just as much. A few times, she hit the nerves just right that I twitched, digging my nails briefly into her back and making her hiss in response. Some extra added fun.

Then she started moving down my stomach. I knew where she was going; this wasn't our first time trying this particular activity. But the butterflies were as fresh as ever, and my thighs tried to trap her head there.

"Oh, not tonight?" she purred.

"Reflex," I panted shortly, trying not to laugh at the cake all over her face now. Because even though it was funny, it also wasn't… since she was about to go to town on me.

Oh, she did. She really, really did — and it blew my mind so much more this time, somehow. Maybe it was because for the past few months, I only had that fork handle for company in my bed. Being pent up and needy tends to make the release ten times stronger, you know.

"Elsa!" I whined after a few hours. Okay, it was probably a minute or two, but it felt like so long! "You're really… how did you… get this good?!"

By the time she came up for air to answer me, she was gripping my ass cheeks to hold my pelvis closer to her face. "You're worth trying my best for, Anna. And… I may have practiced on an ice-replica." When I laughed at that, a frosting-smeared eyebrow arched. "Ooh…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Your backside is so firm, and I felt it flexing in my hands. Powerful."

"Y-yeah, I exercise a lot. Could probably pick up a gold coin with it."

"Really?" I felt her poking around back there, and I clenched — again, reflex. "Wow. Do you think… you could squeeze this?"

Before I had any chance to ask a question or protest, I felt a finger sliding between my cheeks. What in the fjord was Elsa doing?! It felt wrong, and disturbing… and hot? Was it hot somehow?! Maybe, but only because it was her, and she had already been going down on me, I'm pretty sure; if anybody else had tried that, especially when I wasn't already chomping at the bit to get off, their hand would be kindling for the fireplace in the corner.

So don't let anybody tell you Elsa is a prude who would never do anything like that. That whole regal facade is just a smoke screen. She can get just as wild as me.

"Wow, your muscles really are strong," Elsa breathed in honest surprise, not just teasing me. "I'm impressed."

Freya, I tried so hard to hold it together. To control my reaction. But as she dragged her finger back from my crack, brushing the little forbidden spot that I had been trying not to think about, I shivered and let out a little moan. Dooming myself.

"Anna?"

"Yes! I m-mean, hello, yeah, you can… you can start back in on the goods now! Remember my goods? Right there in front of you?"

"No, wait. Did you enjoy…?" Probably trying to spare me some embarrassment, she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her frosting-covered finger and flexed it in my field of vision.

"Oh, did I really get cake in there, too? Sheeze, we've really been going crazy!"

My nervous laughter made it way too obvious I was just trying to distract my sister. Why was I so bad at that sometimes? She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then glanced at the finger, then back at me.

"Anna-"

"Please, can we not-"

"Anna, it's okay. If you want me to leave that alone, I will; I was only asking how you felt about it. That's all."

Though her words didn't dial back my embarrassment, it soothed away the anxiety spike. "Oh. Well… no, I didn't mind that much. Not really. It's just because… like, after all you've been doing to my clit and tits, I'm kind of sensitive… everywhere. So it was pretty interesting, but I would never ask you to do it again! That's too big a favour!"

Elsa thought that over for a moment, and I finally started to relax. Then she kissed my inner thigh. "Just relax, my love. My Lord Anna." I groaned, thinking back to the coronation ball. Even though it all worked out okay. "I'll take care of you. And all you have to do is ask, and I will stop or change what I am doing. You can always talk to me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, completely relieved. My queen was so sweet to me, always taking care of me as much as she could. Making me feel safe.

Well, I did feel a little less safe when she started kissing closer to my behind. And then when I felt two thumbs pulling the cheeks apart, I wriggled all over and gasped out, "WHOA! Elsa, are you- you're not gonna-"

"Just going to try to get the cake in here," she laughed softly. "Unless you have objections."

Did I? The whole thing was too weird to have any objections. And while I was still trying to come up with one, I felt that wriggling tongue press somewhere I had never wanted or needed it to go. Was Elsa really doing this? She really didn't mind? We did enough wrong and taboo things already that this just seemed like one step too far! But the way she was going at my ass suggested she didn't agree.

And it was… different. Not good, not bad; just unsettling even while it was stimulating. When she was still at it a minute later with no signs of stopping, one of my hands started trailing the handle of that trusty fork down my stomach. Maybe, if I could take care of the main attraction, a little sideshow in the back room wouldn't be so bad.

"Mm?" she hummed, tongue still sliding over my taut skin. She must have seen my fingers moving, because she drew back with a chuckle. "Oh, did you need me to move along?"

"Y-yeah, Elsa, I… we could try that again later, but right now I'm…"

With a solemn nod, she went right back to going down on me. Who could complain about a girlfriend like that? Just takes care of my needs without any complaint. What an angel.

"Oh ffff- MMM!" Yeah, I had to scream into my hand to let out some of my energy. Luckily, it wasn't the one holding the fork or I might have stabbed myself in the face. A minute later, I gasped, "Elsa! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

My sister did not slow down until I actually was there. It felt like she had six tongues instead of two — which she might actually have been able to pull off if she used her ice powers, but I didn't feel her mouth get any colder. I came so hard and shook all over, and the whole time Elsa just held onto my hips and devoured me like I was the best cake she had ever tried. Which was probably how she felt.

Once my heat faded, she lowered me into the cake again and smirked. "That happened awfully quickly for someone who didn't like me playing with her a little lower than usual."

"Y-yeah! Well… you… let me get pent up for multiple months!"

"That is fair. I hope my apology was satisfactory."

Pretending to think real hard about it, I screwed up my face and tapped my chin. Elsa laughed. "Weeeeeelllllllllll… on one condition."

"What condition?" She started when I moved to pin her to the bed. "Oh!"

"This one." My chosen target was her neck. She shivered a little when I ran my tongue along it, enjoying the rich chocolate mixing with the light purity of her skin. I wanted to eat Elsa whole.

"Anna… you… make it hard to breathe."

"Elsa…"

"N-no, I… I'm really-!"

With a shock, I realized she meant the way my hand was pushing into the middle of her abdomen. "OH! Shit, Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" As she took a deep breath, I caressed her side. "Better? Man, I am just really dumb sometimes…"

Elsa pulled me down into her embrace. "We already covered that. You are not dumb. You have never been dumb."

"You sure? I mean, not that I'm trying to argue with you, but you keep saying that and then I keep doing dumb things."

"Because you're excited. I am, too; I've just had a lot more practice... controlling myself."

For good reason. But since she wasn't judging me, I pushed myself back up to begin devouring the cake covering her ribs and stomach. She giggled a couple of times, and I smiled at the way her abdominal muscles flexed under my lips, bumping up against my nose. I could have kept eating off her and exploring her for hours and never got bored. Not once.

"Mmhhh, this really is so good," I sighed as I got closer and closer to the finish line. "The cake, you… who could ask for more?"

"I'm glad you… approve." But I could tell she was nervous. Why? It's not like this was the first time we had done anything like this; just the first in a little while.

"Elsa?" She didn't answer right away. Watching her bite her lip and look anxious was cute, but I still prompted her, "Hey. You okay?"

"What? Oh… yes, I'm fine." My face must have looked extra unconvinced, because a second later, she relented. "I'm still a little afraid of losing control of my powers when I…"

"When you what? Oh, wait, you're- right, got it, you don't need to explain. But hey, even when you've done that before, all you did was give me a little extra blast of snow. I don't mind a cold cake."

Tittering the slightest amount, despite the fear in her eyes, she reached down to run her fingers through my sugar-matted fringe. "Neither of us do. And I know you're probably right, but I can't help but worry I will hurt you for a third time. I don't think I could take that."

"Me, either. But you won't. I hear you, I do, but I know you have a handle on this now. You've been doing so good! Nobody in Arendelle is scared of you anymore. So just… let me do the magic this time."

That was that. Even though she was still biting her lip, her brow still creased, she didn't protest further as I kissed the inside of her thigh, devouring the frosting I found there. But I still didn't like that she was wound up so tight. So I figured hey, why not try to loosen her up?

"So, if I get a couple of fingers in you and really start going to town… does that make this pound-cake?"

Oh, now she looked mad. I barely had enough time to register the movement before her foot was pushing into my face, trying to shove me off the bed entirely.

"Hey, whoa whoa, Elsa! Come on, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded in a would-be stern voice. The answer might have been because I was laughing up a storm. But I caught sight of her smile, which told me she was just trying to mess around with me. One of the many things I had been missing over the past thirteen years.

"Truce! I'll keep my corny jokes to myself if you don't shove me the rest of the way off this bed!" Really, I already had to whip one leg back and brace against the floor to keep from falling as it was. But she slowly began to relent. "Thank you."

"I ought to put my finger back in your 'fork holder' for that one," she grunted.

"It was one time! I don't go around carrying forks back there all the time, you know!"

"Actually, no, I don't know that. Because I never inspect the back of your dress when you are casually walking down the halls."

"You could, though…" As she just shook her head at me, I decided to get a little more playful.

"AH! Not my feet — don't bite my feet, you know how ticklish iyyyahahahhaaaa!"

Too late. My teeth were nibbling all over her chocolatey toes in retaliation for almost being knocked on my butt. The way she began kicking was extremely dangerous, but at least now my childhood memories were intact; I remembered learning by watching our father that you had to hold her leg steady when you tickled her, or you were asking for an eyeful of flailing heel.

"STOP!" she cackled. "I'm- I am about to ruin this cake! Anna!"

Right away, I broke off with a laugh. No matter how much fun I was having, it wasn't worth ruining an entire cake-bed by making her wet herself. "Okay, okay. Yellow frosting is as bad as yellow snow, I guess."

"You… monster!" But she was still laughing a little, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in an attempt to regain her breath. Which looked like she had been doing something else.

Flawless. I was head over heels, alright.

"Sorry. But do you know how cute you are when you get tickled?"

Clearing her throat, she pushed up onto her elbows before answering me. "That is… because I didn't get to run around outside the way you did. Not after my ninth birthday. So my feet are…"

Oh. Well that was a sad reason for them to be extra sensitive. But I decided to simply kiss the one I had been attacking and say, "Perfect. You were gonna say 'perfect' right? Because that's the only answer I'm accepting right now."

Shaking her head a little at me, she let out an exasperated sigh that was followed by a small smile. "You're too kind to me."

"Nah. Just know you deserve the best."

Again, I kissed, and she hummed as her smile grew. When my lips parted to let my tongue slide between two of her toes, she rolled her eyes and pulled her foot away. "Fine, I get it, you love every inch of me."

"Glad we got that straightened out. Now, I have my eye on a couple of pastries… one sec."

Her hand raised up to rest on the back of my head when I attacked her chest. I figured she would probably appreciate having some time to recover before I went back between her thighs. The sounds floating out of her lungs were every bit as enthralling as if I had gone straight for the crux of her thighs, of course, but at least this way I could enjoy my cake a little longer.

"You are… so persistent." I switched to the other peak, my hand wrapping around the mountain below and kneading just enough to add pressure and pleasure without causing pain. "Mmmhh, and I almost want to ask if you have been practicing on someone else!"

"Maybe I made an ice-replica," I shot at her as I moved back down. Her grin was so huge. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's do this."

"You make it sound like you're about to go cliff-diving!" she laughed.

"Oh, I am. I'm about to dive down deep into your sound."

Elsa's lips parted, probably to reprimand me for another corny line. But all that came out was a moan when I pressed my mouth tightly against her soft folds through the frosting and chocolate. And I intended to clean every speck of that from her by the time I was finished.

My Elsa. My queen of snow and ice, grace and beauty and power. The only woman in the world. My mind and heart were full of desire for the goddess I was making writhe with my every teasing touch. And it wasn't just that she was the most beautiful girl in Arendelle, not that she had given me an orgasm so recently. This was about way more than repaying a debt or physical beauty; it was my sister. The one person who had always been a part of me, and who always will.

"A-Anna!" she gasped — well, she had been doing that for a couple of minutes, but this one was louder and stronger. Somehow, I just knew what she meant. "I'm… I'm still scared! I love you!"

I loved her, too. But I wanted to show her in some way besides slowing down to tell her with words. So I moved one hand from her hip to push our fork into hers, which had been clutching uselessly at another pile of birthday cake. And wow, did she respond! My hand was caught with the fork between our fingers, and it was such a tight grip that I felt like she would never let me go again.

Which did as much for me as I might have been doing for her.

There was more snow this time. Somehow, I had kind of expected that; I mean, when you tell an ice witch that she shouldn't hold back with her power, you're going to get more power. Makes sense, right? But even while I was still feeling her flesh pulse against my lips and tongue, her juices running down my chin, tiny pinpricks of cold were dusting my back in the spots that weren't covered by chocolate.

"Oh," I panted when I finally came up for air, satisfied that she no longer needed little licks for little aftershocks. "Snow! See? I told you everything would be fine. And this isn't even that bad!"

Though of course, we were both looking around at the winter wonderland filling the room. It was only a couple of inches deep, but spread over that large an area it still added up to a decent amount.

"It's… a lot," she panted. "But at least there aren't any… nothing dangerous."

Scoffing, I crawled up to lay my head on her shoulder, curling my entire body around hers as tightly as I could. Needing to be that close to her now. "Dangerous? You? Come on, you're a big pussycat."

"We both know… that's… a stretch." Finally, she cleared her throat and simply took in a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn't be so winded. Then she turned to look into my eyes with a smile full of afterglow and affection. "Thank you. For that, for all of this; for my perfect birthday night."

"Yeah. You got it. I'm always going to show you how much I love you, no matter how big I have to go to get the point across."

"Anna, you don't have to. I already know." We shared a firm kiss. Then she crinkled her nose. "Oh, that's… did you really enjoy me adding that to your cake? It's so strange."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't know what it was," I admitted with a giggle. "But knowing? Oh yeah. Totally hot."

"If you say so." Then she suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no — my lips have- you were kissing-"

"All I tasted was Sister-Queen and cake," I headed her off before she actually said it out loud. "Don't have to make it even more gross. Seriously, you didn't run away from my butt? I thought that would be a fate worse than death!"

"No, no," she reassured me, completely contented now that we had both enjoyed ourselves and could relax. "I wasn't lying for your benefit; it wasn't that bad. Especially when mixed with chocolate cake. Though I agree with you about my essence on this subject; probably wouldn't have enjoyed it not knowing what it is, or by itself. Well…"

Running my index fingertip in small circles on her stomach, I prompted, "Well?"

"I could try it by itself. Maybe. Someday."

"Go ahead. I won't… well, I might judge a little, but since we're already sisters who knock boots, it's not gonna hold a lot of water."

"Mmhmm. I suppose that's a valid point."

"Ohhhhh, I just wanna lay here forever!" I burst out as I curled even harder around Elsa, and she laughed again, nuzzling into my hair. "Though I do have another bath ready in the next chamber. I'm no doctor, but it's probably not the best idea for us to leave cake in some of the places we have cake right now."

Nodding, she whispered, "In a minute. This is so comfortable. Actually, I'm surprised we're not sinking all the way down to the floor."

"Oh — yeah, that's because we took a bed-sized wooden box and made the cake on top of that. Like, it's pretty much a bunch of little cakes smushed together in a grid pattern to make one huge sheet cake, and then we just put the icing all over it and down the sides with the right colours and patterns. So it looked like a real bed, with a quilt and all."

"Clever," she chuckled, scratching at my rib cage just enough to prompt a giggle from me before she stopped. "Really, I was flabbergasted at first, but now I really admire all the work you did for this. Because it turned out to be a lot of fun."

Her praise made my heart glow. "It did, didn't it? Chocolate cake slumber party. Go me."

We both fell into the kind of comfortable silence you can only have with family. Lover, sister, friend… Elsa was all of those things to me. And we had beaten all the odds and found our way back to each other, and we were alive, and our lives were wonderful. There wasn't much else I could ask for.

"I love you, my Anna," she breathed into my hair before rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow and look at me. I mirrored the gesture, gazing into her eyes.

"Love you, too, Majesty. And I always will."

Elsa kissed me hard and long, and held me close for such a long time that time itself ceased to hold meaning. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill anniversary of being born, but I finally knew: what we had? Different-good. The best kind of different a princess could ask for.

~ Takk for Reisen ~

#Min Søster Bursdagskake #cake fic #min soster bursdagskake #forkanna writes #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna fandom #elsanna #jess the writer #the cake fic

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Darkwing Duck Reviews: Darkly Dawns the Duck Pts 1 and 2

It’s a Darkwing Double Feature! Just in time for his ducktales special, I take a look at the introduction of everyone’s favorite Daring Duck of Mystery. In his daring debut we meet Darkwing Duck, an egositical and attention hungry superhero who soon finds himself having to look after a feisty orphan to keep her from getting nabbed by local kingpin of crime Taurus Bulba with the help of his biggest fan. Darkwing owns the night under the cut with decades old spoilers.

Let’s Get Dangerous.. is tommorow so with that in mind i’m doing a darkwing double feature to refresh myself before the big special. So i’ll be covering both the original series pilot “Darkly Dawns the Duck” and the ducktales reboot episode “The Duck Knight Returns”. Let’s Get Dangerous Itself because I was so wiped yesterday I didn’t get the other review done and unexpectly got acess to the new episode way earlier than usual so i’d rather focus on that. Got it? Good. Let’s continue past me.

As usual with a new show a breif bit about my history with it: I watched it years ago, as a friend of mine lent me the first two discs of the season 1 dvd and never found the third one nor asked for them back, nor cared I had them. I thoughtly enjoyed it, had a great time and then it took me a decade or so to actually watch the series again due to a combination of being too stubborn to just buy the season 1 dvd again, a very darkwing move of me in hindsight, and then when disney plus meant I had all episodes at my finger tips I.. sat on them till now.. though to be fair i’ve sat on a LOT of great shows on there including the mandalorian, gargoyles and boy meets world. I have a bad tendency to procastinate, the fact this is coming out so late in the day should be a giveaway. I did read about half of volume 1 of the comic and all of volume 2, so there’s that at least. Point is this new episode finally made me decide to get off my ass and watch darkwing once again, starting with the pilot and the episodes related to the fearsome four to be ready for tomorrow to see what the differences are (Thoguh I did remember bushroot vividly, so I had that at least). Something to note before I get started talking about the pilot itself though, is the episode order for Darkwing Duck is a Darkwing Clusterfuck. Now I do understand WHY they aired this way: While some episodes do logically take place after other episodes, you can reasonably pop on just about any darkwing and watch it and enjoy it with minimal need to know what happened in previous episodes, kinda like batman the animated series oddly enough. It was also aired between two networks so on some level I get disney’s confusion here.. but on the other hand it’d take ten minutes, they clearly can call up the creator easily as Tad Stones made a cameo in ducktales 2017 we’ll get to so they could easily get a better order from the creator himself, so they really don’t have an excuse for this, or for slapping the pilot in the middle of season 1. Then again both ducktales 2017 and x-men the animated series were sort of a mess order wise when first put up, so not giving a shit about where episodes are placed for re-watching clearly is a pastime of theirs.

Now i’ve got that out of my system we can dive into the episode itself and a breif plot synopsis. Darkwing Duck is the superhero protector of St. Canard, a masked vigiliante who takes out crime but wishes he actually got fame and credit for his work. Kind of like Booster Gold but without taking endorsments or as far as we know coming from the future. He also has nothing else as shown by the fact he fights crime, does a training regimine to prepare his breakfast that’s a delight to watch then prepares to sleep. It’s an intresting concept, a hero who HAD a civlian identity once, as the rest of the series would play out, he just no longer needs it. And it’s also ahead of it’s time as batman would explore this idea both seriously with bruce wayne murderer and comedically and seriously with the lego batman movie LONG after this series aired, meaning the writers here figured out what many probably knew about batman and put it into their parody version: Batman is the real identity and Bruce is the mask. Batman only keeps his old self because the bruce id is useful to him: It keeps people away from his company, puts up a playboy facade that draws attention away from him being batman, and allows him to do various charities and what not and help honor his parents in a way that dosen’t involve swooping in and kicking people in the throat. And as seen with bruce wayne murderer when the option to throw bruce away for good came up Batman gladly took it. This is the same idea: Drake Mallard ONLY cares about crime fighting, has no friends no family, we never do find out jack about his family hopefully if there’s a full reboot series Frank and Matt fix it for their version. He has nothing, and is fine with that. He hasn’t really had a reason to care about anything else than his own glory and works alone not because it’s less efficent but because his oversized ego means he dosen’t want to share credit. IT’s an intresting start and his ego would be a defining bit of who he is and used intrestingly int he reboot but we’ll get to that there.

His life changes forever though when local crime boss Taurus Bulba unleashes his latest scheme: To steal the Ramrod, a gravity manipulating device created by the late Dr. Quackmeyer.. late because Bulba’s men killed him and were dumb enough not to get the arming code for the ramrod first a year ago. Bulba is also behind bars but in one of my faviorite gags of the episode despite the warden’s constnat gloating, Bulba has taken the “Supervillian makes jail into a base” Or “Jail is nothing to a supervillian who can easily get out trope” to ludcrious machines. He has whole meetings with his minions, keeps the ramrod once he gets his hands on it in the laundry and has a ship SHAPED LIKE HIS FACE built into his cellblock. I’ts just so over the top it’s glorious. But yeah since Bulba can’t go after it at first he sends his three goofy minons, one played by eddie “Mandark” deezen in.. love that guy.

THey do end up stealing the ramrod thanks to the help of bulba’s cool, non-anthromporhic condor who he uses as his right hand man and as his link to his minons via a small tv aroudn it’s neck. That.. is awesome. Darkwing spots the condor but fails to stop the three stooges or the condor and gets unknowingly blamed for the robbery..and stopped to get glamor shots not realizing the guy thought he was a criminla which.. fair enough. It is a shadowy disguise after all.

Darkwing ends up grabbing onto the vulture sonic 3 style, but ends up falling off him into a hangar where we meet the original version of Launchpad McQuack, whose apparently quit working for scrooge and has his own hangar now though it wouldn’t be a stretch that scrooge bought it for him.. he does , stingy as he is, appricate hard work and launchpad wanting to start his own buisness and while hte planes were probably all on launchpad, Scrooge would gladly buy a run down buliding for a loyal friend who wants to put in some hard honest work. Plus it’s a free place to store any vehicles he has in the st canard area.. I mean it’s still scrooge. And yes I know the whole “Tad stones said they aren’t the same universe” non sense. I do have the utmost respect for the guy and he seems really, nice but I don’ tlike that, no one likes that and both the comics and the current duckverse with the ducktales reboot entirely ignore that for good reason.While the two shows are diffrent in tone they stil lfit and it’s not a stretch for launchpad to want to spread his wings or failing that scrooge to help push him out of the nest and give him his own buisness or one of scrooge’s to run.

But while Launchpad does help DW with a propeller plane they fail and while launchpad offers to be his sidekick, DW gives him the old I work alone bit. However him being alone won’t last for long as Bulba still needs that arming code and since his only lead is Waddlemeyer’s grandaughter who grew up in his lab, he sends his buffonish minons to go get him. Why he never sends his lone female minon with them is because it’s funnier if she dosen’t I guess. Which it is so fair enough. So thus we enter Goslyn, who the head of the orphanage is fed up with due to her antics. Goslyn is played as most of you knwo by christine cavanagh.. I honestly forgot and it still throws me off a bit she’s using what would later be her chucky finster voice for a character so completely diffrent. Granted it’s not unusual in voice acting, just weird here and only for me personally having grown up with rugrats but not darkwing. The orphanage head is a bit less jarring as she’s played by Marcia Wallace, aka Edna Krabable from the simpsons but A) that show was already running at this point and B), the character is basically a nicer version of edna versus chuckies voice coming out of a tiny if immensly fun to watch hellion. I do like goslyn, sh’es a fun character even in her shadier moments, it’s just something i’d forgotten about i’ll need to get used to is all.

Bulba’s hired goons come in claming ot be friends of her grandpas and we actually get some really heartwrenching context for Gos’ behavior: While she does act out she actually LIKES THE orphanage.. ti’s just her friends keep getting adopted while no one wants someone “full of spirit”. It’s heartwrecnhing to hear.. and only gets worse when the goons try and kidnap her. Thankfully Darkwing.. also kidnaps her, but he kindaps her from kidnappers and while Goslyn naturally takes a second to realize he’s the good guy them shooting at him clues her in. Darkwing, in a rare for the series as a whole moment of reason and not wanting to just power though something himself TRIES to do the responsible thing and leave gos with the police where she’ll be protected.. but given they think he’s a wanted criminal they shoot at him.. and the small child in his motorcycle. Yup that’s the police alright.

So with no other options Darkwing takes gos home, hyjinks insue including her activintg the breakfast thing. But the two genuinely start to bond. While Darkwing dosen’t WANT to keep her around, the whole not wanting connections thing, it’s clear he’s growing fond of the little snot as she holds her own with his trianing course, they have a tickle fight and in the sweetest moment of the episode the two sing little girl blue, a song her grandfather used to sing her to sleep that she teaches darkwing. It’s an utterly heartmelting bit and Cummings and Cavanagh really sell the hell out of it. It also however turns out ot be plot relevant: Turns out just in case Dr. Waddlemeyer hid the code for the ramrod in the song, and when Darkwing sees a photo Goslyn got from bulba’s goons, he realizes this and realizes that depsite thinking she didn’t know it Goslyn had it all along.. and that as long as h’es around she won’t know. Bulba is naturally livid at his minons failure and decides now’s the time to take this into his own hands and while he actually liked the prison hq setup, as it did make sense as it was the perfect cover and the warden was too full of himself to realize Bulba was still active and too convinced the bull was beaten down when he clearly wasn’t, but instead as mentioned above awesomely converts his cellblock into a flying ship in the shape of his own head. Bulba.. is a great villian and I only think the show didn’t use him more because he’s a dead serious, deadly dangerous villian in an otherwise goofy but fun superhero parody show. The show later gained Negaduck, so they had a more dangerous threat for darkwing that fit the show’s tone better while still being utterly terrifying, and likely simply didn’t need him till the idea for the steerminator came up. But I love the guy: he reminds me a lot of the kingpin, a threatning villian who uses his sheer size to beat our hero down, is cool and suave and is an utter mastermind at planning. He also wears a nice suit. And naturlaly he has a plan to take out darkwing since despite the two never having met, as Darkwing disparages when Goslyn assumes their lifelong mortal enmies like in the comics, they know of each other.. and thus bulba knows exactly what trap to spring to get him out of the way and goslyn into his ship: He flashes a message in morris code that he wants to surrender to Darkwing while stroking his ego a LOT. And it works... while i’ts an obvious trap Darkwing’s so full of himself he goes despite Goslyn telling him it’s very obviously a trap. Naturally everything goes pear shaped as a result: Bulba shows up, revealing gos not only to be right but easily pummling Darkwing. Which makes sense: While Darkwing is a vetran crime fighter and secret agent, Bulba’s been at being a villian longer clearly as he’s built up enough of a rep both for Darkwing to know him out of hand and for the warden to be proud capturing him. Given what univese this is, it probably isn’t Bulba’s first round with a superhero and given at this stage St Canard only has one.. yeah Darkwing is outclasssed and the police grab him while Bulba scarpers. And while Gos puts up a good fight using the trianing course, Bulba’s vulture gets her. Bulba has everything he needs. Darkwing meanwhile actually bemoans what a dick he’s been, that the first person he’s cared about besides himself in possibly ever is now in the hands of a murderous mastermind, and that he’s stuck in jail with no one to call on for help. Thankfully.. help arrives.. and by help I mean launchpad backing the ratcatcher, Darkwing’s bike, into the prisoin. He DID come just to bail DW out despite his earlier jerkishness, but backed in and Darkwing not beliving superheroes have time for paperwork, decides to just bust out. And to be ifair int his case he’s probably right as you know, a ten year old might die if they don’t get there in time. So off they go.. but with Bulba in the air they need something with wings to catch him. ANd luckily as Launchpad mentioned earlier he’s been working on something special for darkwing. It’s with this we enter the thunderquack, which is DW”S awesome headshaped plane. It’s just cool it’s got a nice design, goofy enough tof it the universe but cool enoguh to still be fun to watch. Darkwing has really damn cool vehicles, as the ratcatcher is also awesomely iconic. But yeah the thunderquack impresses darkwing and rightfully so and he decides to make LP his sidekick afterall. So now our heroes fly into the danger zone and attack bulba’s airship with Darkwing landing on the bow and a scuffle insues with darkwing and hte minons.. who use actual guns which for a 90′s kids show is a suprise, especially one this intentioanlly goofy, but boy is it nice. However Bulba, being awesomely evil, isn’t dumb and instead of fighting darkwing, which he could win but would win him nothing and having gotten nothing out of goslyn, figures the hero might know the code.. and while Darkwing lies and says he dosen’t, Bulba points out .. he’s right.. but he’s always been a gambling man and has his condor drop goslyn to lure drake into telling him , with DW putting in the code and bulba testing it with a bank robbery.. before predictably having his condor drop the girl because he no longer needs her. Thankfully launchpad catches her in time and then they get revenge on the condor with the thunderquack BITING IT.. which is awesome. Hopefully the reboot version does that.

Darkwing meanwhile saves the day, his new daughter and the city by simply sneaking over to the ramrod and mashign the keys till it overloads, silly, but undeniably awesome and effective. Bulba TRIES to finish off darkwing this time for foiling his plan.. btu the ramrod explodes and while bulba’s minons and goslyn and launchpad are safe... bulba and darkwing are apparently dead and it’s effective. A few weeks later Goslyn’s back at the orphanage utterly distraught and broken at being basically orphaned again. Naturally though Darkwing’s alive, having taken his old identnity back since now he has something worth using it for and adopts her, hinting at who he is so she goes with him. And Drake has changed.. sure he’ll still be as egostical and impuslive as he was here.. but he’s no longer just darkwing.. he’s drake again as he has someone worth fighting for.. two someones in fact. He has a friend, a loyal partner to help him fight cime. And more importantly.. he has a loving daughter. And both needed each other: Goslyn needed someone who understood her despite her manic energy, and Drake needed someone who needed him and not darkwing, a reason to be a person outside the cape and cowl and outside the attention again. He needed a reason to live again... and he’s got it. And it’s going to be great.

Final Thoughts: This pilot is excellent. Well paced, plenty of laughs, tense action and great introductions for everyone involved as well as a hell of a vilian> This is how you do a first episode: it introduces the main themes of the show, both comedically and dramatically, introduces the cast and gives us a one off , or rather two off it’d turn out, villian whose compelling and intresting. IT’s really damn good stuff and I can’t wait ot see what frank does with a simlar story tommorow. Until then, stay safe, and happy hallowen. We’ll be back shortly for The Duck Knight returns and then Let’s Get Dangerous tommorow.

#darkwing duck #reviews #ducktales #darkly dawns the duck #drake mallard #goslyn mallard #launchpad mcquack #tarus bulba #the disney afternoon #the 90's

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 4 years ago

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Witches, Chapter 29: something of an overdue talk, in a long overdue chapter.

Hey everyone! We’re back at it, hopefully, with a few orders of business.

First things first: I’d like to issue a small warning for a short discussion of past suicidal ideation that pops up during this chapter. Since this series is a retelling, generally most of you do know what’s coming up next and what we’ll run into and to brace ourselves for that. You know about the characters’ past traumas and future choices and know where that pops up, or if it becomes unexpectedly relevant or makes a new parallel, you did at least know in advance that it happened. Phoenix’s occasional oblique allusion to Edgeworth’s “choosing death”, for instance.

As this is not something quite like that and comes up more out of nowhere than usual, I just wanted to make sure that no one is uncomfortably caught off-guard. It felt like something different to me personally as I was writing - whether it’s going to strike any of you as different than other heavier material we’ve had in the past, I can’t say, but I’m erring on the side of caution today. If you’ve got any questions or concerns or anything you want done for content warnings in the future, please do come talk to me and let me know!

On two lighter notes: thank you all for bearing with me through the “oops all Fire Emblem only Fire Emblem” hiatus. It’s been a weird year, obviously. I’m hoping that I can carry on with room in my brain for both.

And finally: Happy UR-1 day! Today is, yes indeed, the exact day that Simon Blackquill is arrested for murder, and in honor of that, have a chapter where I mention him one (1) entire time.

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches of Los Angeles Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

----

Golden Saturday-morning sunlight streams in through the blinds, lighting up the dust particles swirling through the air. The office is colder than Apollo expects for the end of October - colder than it was last year this time - and Phoenix is even wearing a sweater, the shining locket that Apollo hasn’t seen in a while hanging around the outside of the tall collar. “Morning,” Phoenix says, without raising his eyes from what appears to be a manila folder full of newspaper clippings he is perusing. “What’s up?”

Straight to business, then. Apollo is fine with that. He grabs the chair from his desk and drags it around, not directly in front of Phoenix’s desk, but near enough that it will be harder for Phoenix to ignore him.

“Is there any way to break a curse?” he asks, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his hoodie. If it were this cold in a regular office on a Saturday, that would make sense; save money on heating bills when no clients are coming in. This is just - fae bullshit. The beginning of their seasonal tantrums. Winter only properly begins on the solstice, and Apollo really wishes that the fae of Kurain would respect the astronomical seasons. Stave off the snow until the end of December and end it in March. Don’t allow it to span from October to April.

Phoenix sweeps the scraps of paper all back within the folder and ducks down to set it inside a drawer. “If I knew a way,” he says, rising back up with the magatama in hand and setting it down on his desk with a hard clack, “do you think I would go around looking like I do? You don’t think I would’ve gotten this mess cleaned up a long time ago?”

He doesn’t offer Apollo the magatama for a refresher on what that mess looks like. Maybe he was just making a dramatic point with it. “Oh,” Apollo says, scratching the back of his head, faintly embarrassed by how obvious the answer is if he’d given it a modicum of thought from that perspective. “I guess not.”

“Right,” Phoenix says. “As my understanding goes, you can theoretically maybe mitigate a curse, if you layer another opposing blessing on. I am ‘lucky’” - he makes sarcastic quotation marks to ensure that the bitterness dripping from the word doesn’t go unnoticed, as if Apollo could possibly not notice - “to have known enough fae that I’m saddled with both Fortune and Misfortune, and Life and Death. But I’m also not certain that when you drop those on each other they don’t just each take their own separate niches. I’m not dead, but god knows when I try to go somewhere for a vacation or a day off, I still stumble across crime scenes like nothing else. Stunningly lucky in some aspects, and wildly unfortunate in others. You know me. I don’t need to elaborate too much, do I?”

Apollo nods.

“So that’s the theory, but I don’t think that helps anyway for your purposes, which - this is about Prosecutor Gavin?”

Apollo nods again. Phoenix sighs and rubs his eyes. “Shit,” he says, folding his hands together in front of his face and leaning his head against them. “I - believe me, Apollo, I wish I had some - I wish I had any way to help him.”

And Apollo does believe him. Apollo has to believe him, and believe that Phoenix means well, because he’d go crazier if he wasn’t reminding himself that Phoenix’s most frustrating decisions are born out of good intent. That Phoenix thinks he knows what’s best, but there’s still that old saying about good intentions.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Apollo asks. “You knew before this. You knew before he asked you.”

Phoenix raises his head. “And what does telling him get him? Secure in the knowledge that his brother - who is already in jail by the way, don’t need any more proof of his crimes, he’s already never getting out to be able to hurt anyone ever again - hates him enough to have wished him dead?”

Basically the same reasoning that Klavier had, but Apollo has a counterargument now. “Gives him time to come to terms with it before someone dies!”

“You don’t!” Phoenix slams his palms on the desk. Apollo flinches. Of course everyone is volatile and heated over this topic, but that doesn’t make it easier in the moment that it first gets directed at him from people who are usually frustratingly calm and casual. But Phoenix winces, lifting one of his hands and dragging his fingers through his hair, and sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, and repeats, much quieter, “You - you don’t. Or I never didn’t. I knew from right when it happened that I was cursed; I had three years between then and when Mia died - it - I could’ve had a decade, or two, and it - it wouldn’t have helped. I wouldn’t have felt any differently. Any more come to terms with it. With the thought that I - helped cause—”

His tongue heavy in his mouth, Apollo nods. “But - but wouldn’t it have been worse to find out right after she died?”

“Of course it would have,” Phoenix says blithely. “Of course that - this - is the worst possible alternative. Of course I would’ve said something if I’d known that this was what would happen instead.”

“But you have to have expected that someone would—”

“No, I didn’t,” Phoenix interrupts. “That’s not how this works. You know Klavier. You know how much he doesn’t say, don’t you? How much I don’t - you know what people like us are like. Who’s going to tell him? Sebastian forgets half the time that he even has the Sight. Kay only acts like she knows things. Prosecutor Blackquill spent until two days ago acting like magic isn’t real even when he knew we knew otherwise. Someone who means ill isn going to keep that information to use it, and not to just plainly say something.” He frowns. “Well, usually not. Unless they’re a clumsy interloper stumbling in somewhere they don’t belong and getting themselves fucked over for it too.”

“So other than Means just walking all over everything” - because he wasn’t immersed in this kind of fae etiquette, didn’t grow up in it, learned just enough to spot what he thought were opportunities and ruined himself by it - “you think every other random stranger is just going to respect all these - these weird little rules about what you don’t say?”

“Rules of engagement, basically,” Phoenix says. “Yeah, I do.”

“Prosecutor Gavin told me that you’re cursed,” Apollo says. “Don’t just tell me that’s - that’s the exception that proves the rule, or whatever.”

Phoenix’s expression, smug and trying to dampen that smugness back into something that respects the seriousness of the conversation, tells Apollo that yes, yes that is absolutely what his retort was going to be. Apollo considers screaming. “I’ve been tangled up in this for far too long,” Phoenix says. “I can promise you, I know the patterns. I know the way these things go.”

“And because you’re so much smarter than the rest of us, that makes it okay?” Apollo demands. “To take a gamble and just hope that it won’t go wildly wrong?”

And he wants to, really wants to add, I guess that’s what you do, just gamble with people’s fates, and he doesn’t, and Phoenix’s face still darkens like he knows, like he can read Apollo’s mind. Because every time Apollo ends up arguing with him, that’s always at the core. This playing card that haunts them both, burnt a bridge barely built, and they keep trying to balance on the ashen skeleton of it. “Just because Prosecutor Gavin is too fucked up about everything else to be mad at you for hiding this—”

“I did,” Phoenix says, voice low, eyes narrowed and dark as an evening’s storm clouds, “what I thought would be best, based on my prior experiences of both how curses don’t get talked about, and knowing exactly what it is like to personally live with knowing that I’m cursed. This is not something I want anyone to have to know how it feels.”

“So you think ignorance is bliss,” Apollo says. Klavier said that. Apollo wants to know how Phoenix takes that statement.

“I wouldn’t call it ignorance,” Phoenix says. “It’s not like he, or you, didn’t know what Kristoph was like until you found this out. You know the crime, the verdict, the sentencing - and everything else that Kristoph tried but failed to do. That Kristoph also wanted Klavier dead is only another small piece in the grand scheme of it all.”

Still the same argument that Klavier made; Apollo can’t imagine they discussed it. What brought them to the same conclusion? That they both have lived this strange specific kind of grief? This common ground that they share that is foreign to Apollo.

“Come to terms with - Klavier’s already got to come to terms with the rest of that,” Phoenix continues. “It was obvious during that trial how much Kristoph despised him. He knew that too. He knows that Kristoph ruined more lives than just the people he murdered - that he tried to kill more people than he actually succeeded at - cursed and tried to kill children because he couldn’t have - didn’t want anyone remaining who - who could - could… say…”

If Phoenix hadn’t faltered like that - fumbling and failing to continue, words petering out as he went back over what he just said, his eyes going wide and welling up with horror - then Apollo would have simply assumed that his thoughts were moving too fast for his mouth and he couldn’t keep them straight. It would have been easy to talk right through it, and Apollo wouldn’t think twice. If Phoenix hadn’t showed his own hand, gave the game away. Something too terrible for even seven years of professional poker to hide.

“Mr Wright?” Apollo asks, and Phoenix turns his head, glancing away away, no longer meeting his eyes when less than a minute ago he was staring him down with a cold confident glare. “What - what are you talking about? Vera, and - not someone else? Who else?”

Phoenix makes a tiny shake of his head, and even that little motion is a bright, distinct liar’s red. It lights up his eyes, too, when they dart down to the floor. “Mr Wright?” Apollo repeats. When would this have been? He casts his mind over everything he learned, just a little over a year ago, Phoenix sitting him down to explain seven years of information collected about Kristoph, what he’d done and how he’d tried to cover it up. He tried to kill Drew Misham to tie up that loose end; he cursed and poisoned Vera, two precautions because he wasn’t confident enough in the former, hoping that if she ever left the house she wouldn’t be able to speak to his identity and the forgery he requested. He killed Zak Gramarye seven years later to hide the same. He wanted to eliminate every link in the chain that connected the diary page to him. Its makers Vera and Drew, and Zak who knew he was the first attorney on the case, and then the page got to Phoenix via—

Via—

“Mr Wright,” Apollo says. His voice shakes. “He didn’t—”

“Promise me something, Apollo,” Phoenix says firmly. His mouth is drawn in a tight line but he doesn’t look stern. He looks more like he’s going to cry and is desperately trying to stop himself. “Promise me.”

“Wh - what? I can’t—”

“Promise me, Apollo.”

Not until you tell me what I’m promising, Apollo thinks, Apollo knows is what he should say. He’s been told this enough times; he’s aware of this on his own. Don’t agree to a deal before all the terms are set. Don’t sign the contract before it’s read thoroughly. Rules for lawyers and fae are the same. Just because Phoenix means well doesn’t mean that Apollo agrees with those decisions he makes; certainly not the one they have been discussing, and likely not whatever Phoenix is asking him to agree to.

“Please.”

The air in the office is so cold. Even the sunlight seems cold now. Apollo shivers, hunches himself up further. What does Mia think? Is this secret-keeping so natural to her, easy as breathing once was, because she’s fae and that’s what they are, liars by trick and by trade?

“Just promise me you won’t tell her until I do.”

His mouth dry, Apollo nods and croaks out, “All right. I won’t.”

He almost regrets pushing the issue,regrets ever asking Phoenix why he faltered. Phoenix sits slumped, his hands in his hair, and when he glances back up at Apollo, he looks so exhausted that it reminds him of Klavier last night. Burnt-out and broken, when it’s so rare for either of their masks to break. Rarer for Phoenix not to be positioning himself as the one with all the cards in hand; for him to fall apart, for Apollo to actually see him upset. “Yeah,” he whispers, soft enough that Apollo sits forward to make sure he can hear him. “Everyone involved in getting the diary page from him to me, Kristoph wanted dead, or to make sure he could silence them. Everyone who knew, even if she was - eleven years old, or eight. The girl who made it, and the girl who gave it to me. He fucking hated the Gramaryes. You think he didn’t jump at the opportunity to try and get rid of all of them that he could? That he wouldn’t cast a curse on each one who ever entered his sight?”

“And she” - Apollo’s voice cracks - “she doesn’t know? You didn’t tell her?”

“Shit, no,” Phoenix says. He sounds close to cracking, too, and when he drops his hands to his desk he starts shaking his head, his eyes scrunched closed. “Being a Gramarye has been goddamn enough of a curse for her. She lost all her family and then found out that her grandfather buried her mother’s soul in the woods because he was a monstrous son-of-a-bitch who deserved worse than getting to go out on his own terms by shooting himself in the fucking head—”

Apollo shudders. Phoenix had never before directly stated his opinion on Magnifi, but Apollo could definitely tell he held only disdain for the man. This, though, is more than disdain. This is positively venomous, and more than a bit frightening. Did he always feel like this, and hid it, or is this hatred something that has only come about since last year Trucy came back to the office with her mother’s soul in her hands?

“—so yeah, on top of that, I’m definitely going to tell her that the same man who killed her father cursed her just because of the accident of who her family is.”

“B-but—” Apollo doesn’t quite know what he’s arguing. He also doesn’t know where all of his prior conviction went. Of course Klavier should have been told - because he found out in the worst way possible - and Trucy - to take a gamble with her too - that’s got to be just as wrong— “Nine-Tails Vale,” he says suddenly. “We went there, and then there was a murder - that - that’s - is that like—”

“Like what happens to me?” Phoenix asks. “What happens with a curse? Yes. That’s how it goes.”

“And you - you’re not going to - to tell her? Ever? In case - in case something happens to her like with Klavier, or—” Too many thoughts are playing in his head, and the next one grabs hold of him and pivots him away from the point he was going to make about maybe why Trucy should know. “The concert,” he says. “When we went to the concert, Trucy and I, and Klavier was there too of course but that’s - Romaine LeTousse was murdered. They’re both cursed and they - wait, was Klavier cursed then? That was before…”

Did Klavier know when it happened? Did he tell Apollo? He’d said that Phoenix had seen him twice since the trial last October. Presume then that Kristoph cursed him then. The last time the brothers saw each other, and that doesn’t make one bit of sense.��

“How could Kristoph have cursed him?” Apollo asks, and he doesn’t miss a momentary flash of panic that passes over Phoenix, his eyes popping wide for half a second and a loud, sharp intake of breath. “Klavier always has iron on him. He gave me—” He looks down at his hand, and then back up, to Phoenix’s lifted eyebrows. Apollo sticks his hand back in his pocket. “What’s the point in iron if it doesn’t actually save you from being cursed?”

Phoenix is obviously trying not to move. He knows Apollo is watching him, waiting for a twitch, anything to pounce on and draw an answer out of him. Staring steadily back at Apollo, he barely blinks; he rests his folded arms on his desk and his fingers curl just a little tighter into where he’s gripping his arm. Apollo is right to be asking these questions. He’s getting closer to something that Phoenix is hiding.

“Or it does,” Apollo says. The veins on the back of Phoenix’s hand flex from his grip. Apollo thinks about someone else with a tense hand and secrets. “And he couldn’t have been cursed then, at Vera’s trial, if it does. So then Mr Gavin hated him that much before then.” Phoenix blinks placidly, but he doesn’t adopt his lazy-eyed gaze. Too serious even for that. “And you lied,” Apollo adds. “You lied about when.”

Phoenix flinches. It’s just a tiny one, pulling his head back, the muscles in his jaw and neck tightening, but Apollo can’t miss the light show. Can’t miss that the lie is bleeding out of him.

He finds himself on his feet, not stepping any closer to Phoenix’s desk, just needing the height, just needing to move a little to stop the shaking in his hands and in his chest, a trembling that goes right down to his heart. “He knew already that he’s cursed! Why did you keep lying to him!”

“I didn’t lie to him,” Phoenix says evenly, but very quietly, and Apollo wants to go over and slam his fists on the desk and make him stop with these hollow justifications, make him face what he’s done couched in none of his winding words. “I just didn’t correct his assumption.”

“That’s lying!” Apollo shouts. “That’s still lying! That’s what happened in Mayor Tenma’s trial! Do you remember that? Do you care!”

“Don’t accuse me of not caring.” Phoenix’s voice is low, his eyes dark, staring up at Apollo. “I do care. I—”

“You don’t care about lying! But you do care about - what, about us? Doing this because you care, because you always know what’s best for everyone not to know!” Apollo throws his hands in the air. Phoenix’s brow furrows further, his jaw set tightly. “Never mind that Athena had a breakdown during the trial because Means hit her exactly where you were worried she would be! And you didn’t prepare her! Never mind that Klavier’s having a breakdown now because he found out at the worst possible time! When you could have told him! You know—”

“And if what he knows already hurt him this badly, then what do you think would be happening if he knew Kristoph cursed him years ago?” Phoenix slams his hands on his desk like he’s at the defense’s bench, pushing himself up out of the chair and onto his feet. “That his brother’s wanted him dead for that long? You think that’ll help anything, for him to find that out right now on top of all this? You want him to have that to come to terms with right now, too? I didn’t lie to him! He made an assumption that I didn’t correct because I’m not in the business of salting anyone’s wounds!”

He makes - a point. Apollo sees where he’s coming from. Why he’d do that. An additional piece of truth, yesterday the same as a salting of the wound. “But you don’t think he’s ever wondered if - if Mr Gavin resented him for that long? If he - if you would be setting something to rest, if you told him that. You can’t decide for someone else what they’re capable of handling.”

“Fair point,” Phoenix says. He sinks back down into his chair, and then motions to Apollo’s, suggesting he sit back down. “If he’d asked, I’d have told him. If he ever asks, I’ll tell him. I just wasn’t about to drop that on his head with him unprepared. Or if he asks you - I’m not asking you to swear silence to that. Shit, if you ever think that it’ll help him to know, then tell him - tell him you just found out from me, throw me under the bus and lie to make me look worse, that’s fine.”

Apollo returns to his chair, still not feeling any less like he wants to take a swing and see if he’s gotten any better at punching since last April. “You want me to lie now too?” he asks.

“I want you to use your best judgment about what he might want to know or be able to handle,” Phoenix says. “To not pile on more if he didn’t ask, if you don’t think he’s prepared. Like I said, when it comes to being cursed, I didn’t ever not know, and I know what the knowing is like. Yeah, I took a gamble that if I didn’t tell them then no one else ever would. That they’d never know, I hoped.”

He shakes his head and then leans it back against his chair, his eyes closing. “See, it’s not just grief, not at all. The woman who cursed me was someone I thought I knew. Though I’d known for a while. She had actually wanted me dead since we first met.” His eyes pop back open. “Eventually she tried to poison me, and when that didn’t work she tried to frame me for murder, and when that plan fell apart she just tried to kill me with a curse because she was pissed about it. She was a lot stronger than Kristoph, I’ll tell you that much. But Mia stepped in, and now I’m still alive and other people just drop dead all around me instead.”

He sounds almost like he is making a recitation, like he’s rehearsed it, scripted it. Apollo wonders if he’s ever told anyone else all these details, if anyone else lacking the Sight knows that Phoenix is cursed, and if he used this same script then too. He’s speaking about himself, something so personal, in a way so curt and crisp, so much more detached than he’s been speaking about Klavier, or Trucy.

Apollo nods numbly, unable to force his tongue to ask any of the questions he has.

“I could have come to grips with her hating me that long and that much - I could’ve come to terms with it and moved on. I was - well, I eventually became glad to know what she was. I could’ve been okay with all that. Eventually. If I hadn’t known about the curse. But I did and the - the knowing, the - Mia was murdered. Three years after she saved me. That long, thinking I could accept that I was cursed, and as soon as something really happened - I couldn’t.”

He presses his hands together and rests them against his chin. “And I couldn’t ever even just grieve her, because I had this guilt. That her death was my fault - I know, I know, some other man murdered her. He got to rot in jail for the rest of his life for his crimes, and he would’ve hated her whether or not I was cursed. For the things she did and because of what he was, and I had no part in any of that, but I was still - thinking, if maybe if she hadn’t ever taken me under her wing. If I hadn’t been around, maybe it would’ve been different somehow. Maybe she would have survived.”

The lights flicker gently and return dimmer and softer than they were before. Everything that gets talked about in this office, Mia hears; Apollo wonders if Phoenix doesn’t get sick of it sometimes, just want to say something without her offering input. Even if this is presumably well-meant, some attempt at comfort, the most a dead woman who can’t speak can give. Apollo exhales and can see his breath. He shivers again. “Why are you telling me this?” he finally asks.

“I want you to understand.” Phoenix rubs his hands together, a vacant look in his eyes, like he hasn’t quite realized why he’s so suddenly cold. “What it felt like, and what I’m worried about. If I’d told Klavier, or I tell Trucy - once I say something, I can’t take it back. That’s it, and they know, forever, just like I do. So I want to be sure that this won’t - I want—” He drops his hands and reaches over and picks up the magatama, idly spinning it around between his fingers. Apollo can’t remember ever seeing him this uneasy, this fidgety. “Klavier, especially, reminds me of myself when I was his age, and of a prosecutor I knew then, too. And that - recognition” - he gestures with the magatama clutched in his hand - “is not good, because we were not - okay.”

Apollo wishes he could remember with clarity all that Phoenix said to him about this time a year ago, about Klavier, about Phoenix being concerned for him. He does remember that Phoenix said something about some other prosecutor then, too, that Klavier reminded him of. Or that he was worried Klavier was going to end up like.

Phoenix inhales slowly, and says, “Six months after Mia was murdered - which was three, three and a half years after I was cursed, mind you - I lost someone else. I didn’t realize how badly he was doing - he did a good job at hiding it, and I didn’t know how to reach out. I was wrapped up in my own loneliness and depression, and then he was gone.”

He stops turning the magatama between his fingers, staring down at it for a few seconds, and then he resumes fidgeting with it. “I felt like I’d caused both of those. Couldn’t convince myself otherwise. Every other factor I knew there was, every single thing I couldn’t prevent or control, all these other things that other people did - I still thought that if I wasn’t cursed, then it could have been - just different enough that they would still be here.” He reaches up, brushing his fingertips across his temple. “Wouldn’t have been a fatal wound. Or wouldn’t have—”

He falters, staring past Apollo now, over at the window. This is the same thing he said about Mia earlier, about that sense of guilt, even knowing someone else murdered her. That he held some kind of responsibility, for a curse that seems to manifest itself as coincidence. Just coincidence, a little too often.

“They could’ve been okay, somehow, in the end, I thought,” he continues. “And instead, I was - I was there, I was still around, and they weren’t. And all I could think was that if I didn’t do something, then I would just lose the other few friends I still had - they would be around me, and they would die for it.”

“Didn’t you say that there’s no way you know to break a curse?” Apollo asks. From Phoenix’s solemn expression, he’s not going to suddenly say that there is a method, but Apollo has no idea what he is going to say. What that something he thought to do was.

“Right,” Phoenix says. “So I thought - only way to take the curse out of the equation is by taking myself out of the equation. I thought - as long as I’m not around - if I go and die, then anyone else who I love won’t. The curse will be gone, right, if death finally takes me. But the curse only seemed to hit other people, not me, so if dying was what I needed to do, then I…”

Klavier lying on the stage, wondering why it had to be Courte who died instead of himself. Phoenix’s dark, pained eyes, as he speaks again, finishes the thought in a voice barely above a murmur. “It made - made far too much sense to me, then. Was far too appealing a prospect.”

The question of what Phoenix won’t quite spell out catches sideways in Apollo’s throat, and when he tries to force it he just makes a soft croaking sound. Phoenix presses his lips together and glances away. “It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone,” he adds softly. “Klavier’s - he’s what, twenty-whatever? I was twenty-five when I—”

When Mia died, Apollo thinks, but that Phoenix doesn’t finish the thought, swallows hard and stares at his desk and says something else, makes Apollo think there was something even worse he could have said, with that implication he didn’t say. “And Trucy - she’s my daughter. I’m supposed to protect her. I took her in because I couldn’t live with the thought of anything else happening to her when I could bring her here, hope that Mia could somehow bless and protect her as much as she did me. But I can’t imagine just - I can’t let that happen to her. To suffer the way I did, to - to spend her life wondering if wherever she goes, someone’s going to die - the concert, Nine-Tails Vale, to ever - to think she can blame herself. Or that everyone she loves is better off without her. Or to—”

He blinks, fiercely, his eyes watering, and Apollo hopes he’ll never have to see Phoenix this close to tears again. Phoenix, cursed and trying - and in the case of Klavier, now failing - to shelter others from that same pain. Klavier, and Trucy, and—

“What about Vera?” he asks. “You explained to me, but did you ever tell her that she’s—” Phoenix stares at him, blinks slowly. Apollo squeezes his own eyes shut. “You didn’t tell her.” He’s unable to muster the same indignation he was before. He can’t really even bring himself to feel manipulated. Phoenix told him exactly that he was saying all this to make Apollo understand. Phoenix sought this reaction. But Phoenix’s chessmaster act has never superceded his desire to keep secrets before; there’s no way that Apollo can convince himself that this emotional vulnerability is all entirely a ploy to get Apollo to shut up. How many times has he refused to explain something and just left Apollo to stay angry about being in the dark? He has never been reluctant to do that. To just sit silent and lock Apollo out. To let Apollo hate him for his secrets.

He wanted Apollo to understand, intimately, whatever it took. So that Apollo would agree keep these secrets. So that Apollo would go along with him. And it might be concern that drives him - he cares, of course he does - but it’s still manifesting in the most infuriating ways possible. In well-meant silence.

“Would you want to know?” Phoenix asks, and that question at this time is an answer and confirmation in itself. “I know the truth is important to you, Apollo - I know it is to all of us.”

For once, Apollo believes he means it. He’d know it’s the truth because he can see when Phoenix is lying, but he’s actually convinced, this time.

“But,” Phoenix continues, “if you already know that the person who cast the curse hates you and is in jail for committing murder - already got to come to terms with that, or grieve that, or for someone else dead - you already know that truth. Would you really, honestly want to live with also knowing that you’re cursed?”

To possibly want to die because of it, like Phoenix did? Apollo opens his mouth. He wants to say yes, yes he would like to know, because that’s the truth of it and he wants to always know the truth, all of its facets no matter how ugly.

Doesn’t he?

He thinks about Nahyuta, about Dhurke, about trying to forget they ever were anyone, because that’s easier than facing the fact that Dhurke abandoned him, and they might both be dead by now. Easier than wondering whether they were human or fae or something else. He doesn’t want to know what they were. He wants to deny the dreams, to convince himself they’re nothing but the weird subconscious mash-up of memory and the fae horrors Clay has spent all these years warning him about. He doesn’t want the truth about his childhood. He doesn’t want to remember his childhood at all.

(Is it well-meant silence when he doesn’t tell Clay, or Trucy, or Klavier, about them? To not worry them about his life and his past? Or is it just cowardice on his part? Blissful ignorance.)

He closes his mouth. Thinks about the smile Trucy forced onto her face as she realized that Apollo was about to reveal to the court that her father Zak Gramarye was murdered six months before then. Thinks about how she couldn’t keep that smile forced when she found out that her dead grandfather took her mother’s soul for his own personal gain. Thinks about Klavier lying on the stage wishing that he had been the corpse there, not Courte. All the pains that truth has caused them. Is that better or worse than that alternative? Does it depend on what truth it is being hidden?

(He thinks about how long it’s been since he’s said Nahyuta’s name out loud. What color were his eyes in real life, and not Apollo’s haunted dreams? He doesn’t remember.)

“I - I don’t really know,” he admits.

The smug, victorious expression he expects never arrives on Phoenix’s face. There’s no satisfaction in winning this argument. “I’m sorry,” he says, closing his hand around the magatama. “I told you about Vera because it mattered directly for that case, but the rest of this - I wanted to shoulder it myself. So the rest of you don’t have to worry about it. I don’t want you to have to keep secrets from anyone. But I don’t know what else to do.” He forces a smile onto his face with visible effort that makes Apollo wince. Nothing masks the exhaustion written into the lines on his face. “Maybe we put our heads and together we figure out some better way to talk about it. If I ever figure that I should tell…”

He trails off, touching a finger to his locket. Tell Trucy. If he ever gains reason to think that he should tell Trucy. Would he actually run it by Apollo first, ask for his advice? The possibility of being in Phoenix’s confidence for something that isn’t a case doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.

“I still don’t think you should try and keep it secret forever,” Apollo says, “but I - I guess I see what you mean. And why you don’t just…”

Why he doesn’t just tell her. More reason that just because Phoenix doesn’t “just tell” anyone anything. For once, he’s not being a cryptic bastard.

“Believe me, Apollo,” Phoenix says darkly, “I’m always thinking ahead and trying to plan for the worst. I’m not naive enough to just hope that anything will stay one way ‘forever’. But I have to be sure I don’t make it worse, either.”

It isn’t the lack of a visual cue that makes Apollo believe him. It’s knowing him that makes Apollo believe him. Phoenix always has his eye on something down the line, playing out the plan a few steps ahead to find the complications. Even - especially - while he wasn’t a lawyer. A gambler’s steady hand holding the cards, chancing on an outcome, because the cost of doing nothing at all is even more unthinkable.

Apollo nods, more times than necessary, lacking anything else to say. Phoenix cocks his head. “Apollo, you all right?” he asks.

What the hell is he supposed to say - how the hell is he supposed to be? Fine? In what world is he possibly fine? At the end of this, he’s learned more than he ever dreamed he would from his sole initial question, but in it all, that first answer has never changed.

This is all there is. A rabbit hole of pain so unfathomably deep and winding, and in its darkest depths, the same as the answer given to him on the surface: there’s no way to break a curse. Their lives aren’t the kind of fairy tale where true love’s kiss can wake a sleeping beauty or transform a beast back to a prince - it’s grimmer than that, colder than that, crueler than that. Curses not so concretely visible but more like haunting coincidence, a ghost whispering at the shoulder with reminders of guilt. How could a man who wasn’t even there when the crime happened blame himself for his mentor’s murder? And yet, even after the killer’s confession, how could he not? How can even the curse’s caster be blamed when someone else wielded the murder weapon? And yet, how could they not share in it?

Apollo would rather someone have been turned into a frog, honestly. Wouldn’t that be easier to grapple with, a simple chain of cause and effect, and no ambiguity in who to blame.

“No,” Apollo finally says. “Not really, no.”

“I guess that was a bit of a stupid question, huh.”

Apollo nods. No kidding. What’s a better question at this point, anyway? Not what he says. “How - how can there really not be any way? For a curse to be broken, I mean.”

Phoenix spins his chair around, resting his head back against it, eyes turned up to the ceiling. Once he slows to a stop, facing the windows, he says, “I mean, maybe it’s possible there was, once, but it was forgotten. There’s a lot of magic that’s gone that way.”

He gives Apollo a moment to digest that, and then continues, “The Court’s heyday was thousands of years ago. They’re living ruins of what they used to be, and a fraction of what they used to know. Maya - you haven’t met her, she’s Pearl’s cousin - Maya’s helping me out with some matters by trying to dig up more about some kinds of magic they’ve forgotten the nuance of. But even that’s something we’ve got a hint that they knew, once. Not like—” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry. Don’t hold your breath waiting for a way to break a curse.”

“Oh,” Apollo says, somewhat surprised, but pleasantly so, that Phoenix said that much. It would be typical of him just to reiterate that no, there just isn’t any way he knows, that’s all, and to skip the explanation for fear of giving Apollo false hope. But thinking about the prospect of false hope is still easier than really, truly considering the meaning of what Phoenix just said - that this, that everything they’ve ever had to deal with in regards to the fae, could have be so much worse. They could do so much worse than all this pain they’ve ever wrought - they were once so much more dangerous than this, and now their Court is only ruins. This is what they are when they are weak.

“If I do find anything out, I’ll—”

Phoenix breaks off, rising up slowly from his chair, staring at something past Apollo, over his shoulder. Apollo twists around to look, not sure what he expects to see, but it certainly isn’t Vongole standing in the doorway, her head held high, her body much more solid than it usually appears, and stiller. The wispy fur at the back of her legs and off of her tail does not stir as though she is made of mist and surrounded by a breeze that affects only her; she could almost, in this moment, be a normal dog, but for her glowing eyes and her ears so bright red as though they were dipped straight in paint.

All the color drains from Phoenix’s face. He snatches up the magatama and springs to his feet, hurrying past Vongole to peer into the other half of the office. Apollo rises to his feet; if Klavier was here - if he heard what Phoenix was hiding - how Apollo promised to keep it a secret—

Vongole stares at Apollo. She doesn’t move. Phoenix reappears in the doorway, curling a hand in his hair, but his face has fallen slack with obvious relief. The claws curled into Apollo’s heart unclenches. “So then what are you doing here?” Phoenix asks the hound, whose ears fold back flat against her head, though her snout does not turn to shift her attention to Phoenix. She stares Apollo down like she will pounce. “Does he send you places or did you just wander here yourself?”

“You don’t know?” Apollo asks.

“You think I’ve ever had the chance to ask either Kristoph or Klavier about the logistics of their spectral hellhound?” Phoenix asks. Apollo tries to remember when he first started seeing Vongole. Whose ownership she would have been under. How soon after Kristoph’s arrest did Klavier come back to Los Angeles?

Despite her weirdly lanky proportions, like a regular dog was put on a rack and stretched out, Vongole always moves with grace, a predator’s prowl and elegance. A monster, but a beautiful one. She circles Apollo like she intends to herd him somewhere, like she is a shark smelling blood waiting for the moment to strike. “What—” Apollo spins too, trying always to keep her in his sight. She moves just slowly enough that he can keep up, but just quickly enough that he becomes slightly dizzy in his efforts. “What do you want?”

She stops. Apollo steps forward, trying to escape her circle, but she swings suddenly to the side, throwing her body up against Apollo’s hip. He expects her to fade through him, as she does walls and doors, but when she hits him he staggers with the force of her weight. And the cold - her body is cold and it reaches straight through his clothes, cold enough to burn, ice on bare skin type of burning, and Apollo doesn’t understand. He’s touched Vongole before, without problem, hasn’t he? Surely he has. What’s wrong with her? Or is something wrong with Klavier?

She trots over to the door, standing on the threshold, staring back at Apollo with her head aloft. He can’t bring himself to move, can’t unfreeze his feet from where they are riveted into the ground. Vongole presses her ears back against her head, lowering it so that her neck is level with her shoulders, prowling again, and she makes another circle of Apollo before again stopping in the doorway.

“I think she wants you to go with her,” Phoenix says.

She wags her tail, much faster than the usual low, wide swishing path that it takes. Apollo wrenches his foot from the floor and takes one step forward. Vongole bounds through the front room of the office, weaving between magic props tossed carelessly on the floor as though she couldn’t pass through them. And she stops and waits at the door, glancing expectantly back at Apollo. He fumbles his phone free from his pocket, finding no messages waiting for him; why would Klavier do something as cryptic as sending his faery dog to collect Apollo, rather than just calling or texting him?

Unless it isn’t Klavier instructing Vongole. Unless she’s acting on her own. Or unless Klavier is in trouble.

“You’d better go,” Phoenix says. “I can lend you the—”

“It’s fine,” Apollo says. He’s pretty sure that Klavier hates the magatama, and he found him fine without it last night. And he didn’t have Vongole guiding him then.

“Let me know that everything’s all right,” Phoenix says quietly. Apollo opens his mouth to ask what Phoenix knows, why he’s so sure that this means something is wrong - remembers what Phoenix said about himself and how Klavier reminds him of himself, long ago. Closes his mouth. Knows why Phoenix worries.

Phoenix always worries. He means well. His road is paved in well-intended worry.

“Yeah,” Apollo says. “I’ll - I’ll let you know.”

Vongole waits for him only to reach the door, diving through it as his hand reaches for the doorknob. He next finds her waiting beside the bike rack, her smoky fur drifting independently of the chill breeze, and as soon as he mounts his bicycle she lopes off down the sidewalk. She never looks back at him but is obviously monitoring him in some way, her pace changing depending on obstacles and traffic so that she always remains in his sight. He follows her through the quieter (relatively, anyway) city of weekend mornings, through his usual stomping grounds, to end up on the stoop of an apartment building that is - quite frankly, not as grandiose as Apollo would expect. He presumes this is where Klavier lives.

(If it’s not, then he’s far too deep into something that it’s also far too late to back out of.)

Vongole noses one of the buttons on the buzzer at the entryway and disappears through the door. Only seconds later, too quickly for her to have physically covered the necessary amount of ground, the door clicks to unlock. Apollo enters the lobby and before he has time to take in his surroundings, she appears in front of him. Literally appears - not bounding up to him out of a wall, but materializing out of the air, white fog swirling in circles around her ankles. She directs him to the elevator, pressing her nose into the button for the fourth floor and then several times in quick succession slamming her nose into the close doors button. “So were you always like that, or did you pick up your impatience from him?” Apollo asks.

She sits down and fixes her eyes on him. He doesn’t know what that means. He’s not sure why he bothered talking to her. She can’t respond - can she understand? Does she have some way to communicate information she hears to Klavier? Surely not - hopefully not, depending how long she was in the office.

She does not move until the elevator halts at their destination, and she springs to her feet and slips through the doors before they have opened wide enough for a fully-corporeal dog of her size to pass through. But when he makes it through, she meets him right at the other side, her impatience not taking her any further down the hall until Apollo can follow right at her tail. The walls are not cracked and peeling as in Apollo’s building, but they are certainly plain - again, very much not the kind of place he would imagine Klavier to live.

Vongole throws herself through the door of Apartment 404, and Apollo waits in front of it. A moment passes, and then another. Right. Even a faery dog doesn’t have opposable thumbs to grip a doorknob. He fails to swallow his apprehension but knocks anyway. There has to be a reason Vongole brought him here. He can’t just run away from it.

The seconds crawl past. Apollo reaches up to knock again, but the door swings suddenly open, and he flinches back.

Klavier’s hair is barely held together in a ponytail, strands falling loose around his face, and he looks even more like he hasn’t slept, going by the shadows under his eyes. And Apollo never thought there would come the day that he sees Klavier in sweatpants, but - he’s still alive. He’s still intact in one mobile piece, and he’s lucid enough to look annoyed. Apollo fumbles for words, any at all, but none arrive on his tongue. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He starts to raise his arm to point at Vongole, to blame her, and before he can, Klavier sighs, shaking his head, his apparent annoyance sliding into exhaustion, and he steps out of the doorway, pulling the door open wider, and gesturing for Apollo to come in.

[notes on the chapter]

#roddy fanfics #fic: the witches of los angeles

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dragonstoravens · 4 years ago

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Babylon Vol. 1: Thawing, Camaraderie, It Grows On You

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Considering the length of chapters 2, 3, and 4 compared to 1, Kit and I have decided to post them together. They go together in terms of plot as well, so it works best this way. Enjoy!)

READ ON WATTPAD HERE, HERE, AND HERE!

2. Thawing

[Unknown] Here are the blueprints for that idea I was talking about, with some existing externals for reference. Hopefully they can be of some use. T. Jericho.

That message had been sitting at the top of Trinity’s holoscreen for a couple of days now. It wasn’t as if he’d expected a response from this one-time mechanic whose friends most likely wanted him dead or maimed, but perhaps it spoke to the sad state of his social life that his work messages were overflowing with unread correspondence while his most recent personal message besides this one consisted of a single “here” from his sister a week ago. Trinity sighed, and switched over to his eyecam. Might as well get something done.

“Aw damn, missed one.” Azure glanced at her once-neglected messaging screen. Messages from Crim, Indigo, a few video links from Smalls and Perry, Turq asking about when ship-wide family dinner was so he could bake biscuits and an unusual number she hadn't seen before. She squinted at the unfamiliar sequence of numbers, trying to think who she had given her access number to that she didn’t remember. She opened the message and found herself grateful that businessmen were so formal to start with. It was eye-dude, following up on some small talk they’d had about her ideas for external monitors for people who were weird about doctor’s visits.

She glanced at the externals he sent and found herself typing wherever her console had space, recording a stream of consciousness. She hadn’t intended to treat his chatbox like a memo application on a personal holopad, but that’s exactly what she did. She thought out loud, drawing conclusions and asking questions all in the same long, uninterrupted paragraph, and hit send thinking it was a save button. Her thoughts were done, and she had already moved to begin work on a prototype, now that she had it all written out.

She was a little embarrassed and sent an apology a few moments later, once she realized what she’d done.

[Azure] sorry about the essay. lots to think on, not a lot of paper this side of a spaceship. thanks for the schematics.

[Azure] have a nice day!

She didn’t bother to sign it, seeing as he already knew who she was. He sent it first, after all.

Trinity was left with a note to self to disconnect messaging from his eye functions, technical words flickering in and out of his vision like sunspots, and a low level headache that somehow felt like a portent of things to come. One thing seemed certain, despite the little information he had to go on-- he was going to be hearing from Azure again. Often.

3. Camaraderie

Azure snickered as she sent the image off. It was a rare image of Trinity off of some trashy tabloid site, that she had edited to highlight the triangle he crook of his arm made with his body. The filename was “jericho_illuminati.img”, and she was proud of how shitty and outdated the joke was.

[Azure] So when were you going to tell me you decided the fate of galaxy politics centuries in advance?

And now it was a matter of time before his exasperated response.

[Jericho] You know it’s not polite to make fun of my boss.

It had only taken him a minute to answer. She’d caught him at a good time, then. Her smile widened.

[Azure] Consider, your boss is terrible. The worst.

She thought back to calling him a ladder climber upon their first meeting, and found herself grateful he didn’t think she was an asshole for being honest. It was nice to talk to someone above the books, who wasn’t on the run for whatever reason. The ship got lonely, with how closed off people were about some things. His companionship was becoming more valuable by the day.

[Jericho] Interesting opinion. But do you know what else is the worst?

Trinity followed this message with a picture of a model from the same tabloid, one they put on the same spread as Trinity, but with what looked like cargo pants shakily drawn over the swimsuit. The hair was scribbled over in bright red. It looked ridiculous.

[Jericho] Observe.

She smirked, muttering to herself.

[Azure] Asshole. My hair ain’t even that shade of red, and I’d never be caught dead in cargo pants.

[Jericho] It’s not as if I’ve seen you recently to confirm that. I’ll stick with the artist’s interpretation.

There was a beat, his icon indicating that he was still typing.

[Jericho] Heh. Azzhole.

[Azure] VERY original. Did you get that one from my brother when we were eight, or are you just very creative?

She found herself giggling quietly in her lab. It was so nice to just goof off. Turq poked his head in to make sure she hadn’t lost her mind. She waved him off.

[Azure] I gotta get back to actually working. Send me more stupid closeups from your eye, I wanna see how well the zoom extension is holding up in terms of image quality. Get real up close to something, I wanna see electrons.

[Jericho] Nerd. I will.

She was halfway through a message to call him an even bigger nerd, but decided that progress on the little pet project that his eye had become mattered a little more.

[Azure] The more unsuspecting the subject, the funnier

[Jericho] I’ll keep it in mind. Go do your work, I’m busy.

And with that, the blip marking him as active in the chat disappeared from the screen. She stuck her tongue out at it. That was one way to force her to get back to work, but she didn’t have to like it.

4. It Grows On You

“-I’m just sayin’, I think reroutin’ the sensors through a shorter path would make the energy consumption so much lower, it’d be worth the time cost to adjust.” Azzy was leaning on one arm of her chair, one leg over the back and the other leg over the opposite arm, looking up at a screen with some soundwaves wiggling around on it. Normally she’d have moved it to a vidcall, but Trinity had said he was busy, and like hell was she going to be TOO much of a distraction. He had shit to do, and technically so did she, but what was a half hour of downtime in the grand scheme of things when you lived at work?

“Yes, but if we’re thinking on a universal manufacturing scale, that’s adjustments in every prototype that would have to be done the exact same way. In the long term, the mechanic can’t oversee everything herself. Delegating is a bigger time cost than a simple design change.” Trinity was clearly in business mode, vague typing noises audible from his end even as he spoke.

“But you’re sacrificin’ a lot of power that way on the prototype itself. I thought the whole point was to be the best around.” She laughed and sat up a little bit, headset long discarded in favor of turning on her room’s soundproofing so she could hear more clearly. He didn’t say anything for a moment, his focus clearly on whatever it was he was working on and not her attempts to goad him into banter. “You always this overly focused on whatever the hell? Or are you usin’ it as an excuse to half ignore me? Bein’ a hotshot sounds like a lotta work if it’s the first one.” The word ‘hotshot’ stuck to her for some reason, and she changed his name in her messages. No one needed to know.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone @charlottedotexe

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #wip: babylon #babylon #chapter update #trinity

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sparrow-flies-south · 4 years ago

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Ten Things [chapter 6]

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairings: Anxceit, Royality Intrulogical Summary: Ten Things I Hate About You AU When Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus, however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date Virgil. And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price? Taglist: @glitchybina @someone-idk-is-here @ellietempest @imlikeaghostzombiejesus @anxiety-ismy-name Notes: I know I promised to get this out on Saturday, but then I ended up having to scrap the half I’d written and start again, whoops.

AO3 Link - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven- Chapter Eight

Chapter Six

“Hey, Janus!”

Janus had not had someone call his name in the corridor since middle school, but hearing it still made his heart speed up. He cursed himself internally as he turned around, and then began cursing Roman Prince, who was shouldering his way towards him.

“Roman,” Janus greeted. “Tell me, do you understand the meaning of the word ‘discretion’?”

“What?” Roman asked. Janus rolled his eyes and began walking away.

“I need a favour,” Roman said, easily keeping pace with Janus.

“You already owe me over a hundred dollars,” Janus replied.

“What? No I don’t!”

Janus sighed. “A hundred and five, to be precise. Seventy five for the party, thirty upfront for the next date.”

“You – The party wasn’t a date,” Roman protested.

“By all means Roman, do keep telling me about my own love life.”

“First of all: gross.” Roman pulled a face. “Second of all, why didn’t you ask for the half up front then?”

Because Janus hadn’t known whether Virgil would show up. But that wasn’t the kind of thing you could just admit to the guy paying you. So he decided to cut that line of questioning off right there.

“Why not ask Patton whether it was a date? He was there, after all.”

Roman’s face screwed up in fury. Janus just smiled placidly.

“Something wrong?”

“Fuck you,” Roman spat.

“That costs extra,” Janus shot back.

Roman threw up his hands. “Fine, I’ll pay you the seventy five dollars.”

Janus narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. “Don’t try to cheat me, Roman.”

Roman met his eyes defiantly. “If you want me to keep hiring you, you’ll help me.”

Janus had not gone through the effort of securing a second date just for Roman to flake out on him. “Explain.”

“I’m trying to make things up with Patton,” Roman said. “I screwed up really bad, and-”

Janus help up one hand, and Roman fell silent. “And you need to get back in his good books for this scheme to work.” He sighed. “Fine. But you’ll owe me a favour.”

Roman looked suspicious. “What kind of favour?”

In truth, he’d probably just end up using Roman’s connection to Patton.

“That depends on the size of what you need, doesn’t it?”

“Access to the intercom system,” Roman answered.

“Why would you…? No, don’t tell me, I don’t care.” Janus pulled out his phone, and quickly sent a message. “The room will be empty and unlocked in five minutes. Try not to mess up again.”

Roman looked surprised at the speed which Janus had worked, which was honestly just insulting.

“You might want to hurry,” Janus added.

Roman scowled and then headed back down the corridor. He walked at a normal speed, but Janus had a feeling he was going to start running as soon as he got out of Janus’ sight.

Okay, so maybe Janus could have given Roman longer to get to the office, but then, Roman could have dealt with his problems on his own.

Janus turned a corner, and reached the section of corridor where his locker was. Someone was leaning next to it, and Janus braced himself for more bullshit, until the person looked up, and Janus saw it was Virgil.

“Do I want to know what you keep in here?” Virgil asked, tapping Janus’ locker.

Janus undid the lock and pulled the door open, so that Virgil could see the pile of books inside.

“Well, now I’m disappointed,” Virgil said.

“What were you expecting, severed remains?”

“I don’t know!” Virgil threw his hands up. “Blackmail material?”

Janus shut the locker door, and placed one hand on his heart. “I had no idea you thought so lowly of me,” he said. “I’d never keep anything of value in such an obvious place.”

Virgil snorted. “Where do you keep it then?”

“I’ll have you know I never show a boy my criminal enterprise until the third date,” Janus replied.

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning red. “Yeah, about that.” He took a deep breath, and then raised his head so he was looking Janus in the eye. “Go on a date with me?”

Janus’ stomach did a flip. “I thought I’d already asked you that?”

Virgil shrugged. “I pick, right? Seems only fair I ask.”

“I’ll have to check me calendar. I’m so very busy, you know.”

The two of them quickly worked out the specifics – that Janus would go to Virgil’s house after school on Wednesday, and they would go to the date together from there. Virgil assured Janus that Remy would still be at work.

“Oh, and don’t wear anything too nice.”

“What are you planning?” Janus asked.

“It’s a surprise. Just… wear something that you don’t mind getting ruined.”

Janus could think of a few things that matched that description. “Well, now I have to find out.”

The intercom crackled.

“What the hell was that?” Virgil asked, looking around.

Good question, Janus thought, just as Roman’s singing began to float over them.

Patton had never appreciated the quiet of the library until now.

Logan had insisted they go to the cafeteria to eat, which had surprised Patton so much he’d just gone along with it. But the cafeteria meant people, and Patton felt certain everyone’s eyes were on him. He’d been getting pitying looks all day, and right before he’d met Logan, he’d overheard a girl from his Chemistry class tell her friend how sad it was that Patton didn’t seem to realise no one wanted to date him.

Patton sighed and put his half-eaten sandwich away. Next to him, Logan was glancing nervously around, as if expected to see someone. Patton had a feeling that whoever it was, they weren’t a friend.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked.

Logan startled, and looked over. That was another thing that was weird; Logan didn’t zone out of conversations. Sure, he could get so absorbed in his work that he probably wouldn’t even notice if he was on fire, but never when they were just talking.

“Sorry, what?” Logan asked.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… satisfactory.”

Patton had known Logan long enough to not fall for that one. “Just because you’re physically fine, doesn’t mean you’re satisfactory,” he scolded. “Something’s bothering you.”

Logan glanced at the clock on the cafeteria wall, then sighed. “Do you remember-?”

Whatever Logan was about to ask was cut off by a squeal from the intercom system. Patton grimaced at the noise, and Logan’s face closed off completely.

“Forget it,” he said.

Patton shook his head, ignoring whatever the person on the intercom was saying. “Lo-”

“Patton, can you please pay attention to what’s going on?”

Patton looked around the room. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same whilst whispering to each other. Other the intercom, someone was singing.

No, not just someone. Roman was singing.

“You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much”

Oh, Patton realised. He’s singing about me.

The doors to cafeteria burst open, and there was Roman, like something out of a movie. He kept singing as he moved through the room. Everyone was watching Roman, but Roman’s eyes were only on Patton.

Roman jumped onto the table for the chorus, earning giggles from the crowd. Patton was smiling so hard it felt like his face was going to burst. His heart fluttered in his chest.

Without realising it, Patton found himself standing, ready to run into Roman’s arms like in a movie scene.

Which, of course, was when two teachers rushed over to usher Roman away.

Patton was frozen in place as Roman was led out of the cafeteria. Right before he left, though, he twisted round and caught Patton’s eye, smiling hopefully. Patton nodded in response.

As soon as the doors to the cafeteria swung shoot, Patton dropped back into his chair.

“I suppose this means everything is fixed,” Logan commented, looking amused.

Patton grinned over at him. “Is this why you wanted us to eat here?”

Logan glanced away. “Remus may have asked me to bring you here.”

Patton squealed and flung his arms around Logan. Logan huffed in response, but still returned the hug.

“I take it that you’re going to be this exuberant all day, then,” Logan commented.

“Probably,” Patton said cheerfully.

Mr Sanders’ reaction to Roman showing up for detention was just to shake his head and wave Roman to a seat.

“Hey,” Roman said, completely unrepentant. “It worked.”

He took the seat closest to the window, so at least he’d be able to look outside. They weren’t even allowed to do homework, so the only thing to do was wait.

And wait.

Roman glanced over towards the clock – surely the hour must nearly be up by now?

It had been five minutes.

Roman groaned, and hit his head against the table.

“Dying won’t get you out of this,” Mr Sanders said, and Roman gave him a thumbs up.

“Mr Sanders!”

Roman’s head shot back up. Patton was hovering in the doorway, fiddling with the sleeves of the cardigan he wore around his neck. He caught Roman’s eye, and jerked his head to the side. What he was trying to say, Roman had no idea.

“I, uh, I had a question,” Patton said, and Mr Sanders stepped out into the corridor with him.

Over Mr Sanders’ shoulder, Patton caught Roman’s eye and jerked his head again. This time, he seemed to be gesturing at something behind Roman.

Roman looked out the window, but there was nothing there that caught his eye. He turned back to Patton, who was talking animatedly to Mr Sanders. Roman twisted around again.

They were on the second floor, but there was ledge outside the window that wound its way around the school. And if he made it around the corner, he could use the fire escape to climb down.

Roman glanced out the corridor, where Mr Sanders seemed completely focused on Patton. He slowly got up from his desk. When Mr Sanders didn’t even look around, he crept to the window.

This was almost ending up too easy. That was probably a safety flaw the school should do something about. Roman undid the latch and pushed the window up – only for it to let out a giant creak as it moved.

Roman froze, and glanced over his shoulder. Mr Sanders began to turn around, and Roman contemplated just jumping out of the window there and then. Two stories probably wouldn’t kill him.

“No!” Patton cried out. He grabbed Mr Sanders’ shoulders, holding him in place. “I mean, uh-”

Roman didn’t bother to find out how good of a distraction Patton could provide. He climbed up onto the window sill, and then gingerly placed on foot on the outside ledge. It was only just wide enough for him to stand on, and that was providing that he kept his back to the wall.

Roman slowly climbed out, his hands pressed against the wall to keep his balance. He began to inch his way across the ledge, keeping his gaze up so that he wouldn’t have to see how high he was.

This was fine, he told himself, as he made his way along the side of the building. Why, it was just like something out of a fantasy book; some noble knight climbing out of a tower to save their love.

Of course, the books never went in to much detail about what would happen if the knight fell from the tower and landed on the concrete of the car park below.

He made it to the corner, and managed to edge his way around. Now, all he had to do was climb the railing onto the fire escape, and then go down the iron steps.

Climbing over a something was a lot harder when you couldn’t come at it face on. Instead, he had to twist his body to grab the railing, then swing his right leg around and on top of it. For a moment, his stomach dropped out, until his foot was able to find purchase.

He thanked God that he’d started taking dance lessons seriously over summer, since they were probably the only reason he was able to pull himself up and over.

He landed on the fire escape with a thud, and for a moment just lay there, trying to get over his near-death experience. He was never doing anything that would get him detention again.

After a while, Roman pulled himself back to his feet and climbed down the stairs. He headed to the school entrance, where, sure enough, Patton was waiting. As soon as he saw Roman, he raced over.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Patton exclaimed.

“My valiant knight,” Roman said. “Saving me from the tortures of detention.”

Patton giggled. “My brave Prince, facing detention to defend my honour.”

“How did you manage to distract Mr Sanders?” Roman asked.

“Oh, uh, I asked him what I thought of my monologue.”

“What monologue?” Roman couldn’t remember anything like that coming up in Drama class.

“The one I made up on the spot,” Patton admitted, and Roman laughed.

“And how did your esteemed teacher react?”

“I think I just confused him,” Patton answered. He glanced around. “We should probably get out of here, though.”

The car park was almost empty by now, with only a few cars belonging to students at extracurriculars left. Remus had already declared that he refused to wait for Roman and would make his own way home, so Patton and Roman went straight to Roman’s car.

“Is your brother waiting for you?” Roman asked.

Patton shook his head. “I told him I was getting a lift with a friend.”

Roman let out a sigh of relief. After their encounter on Friday, he’d been doing his best to stay out of Virgil’s way. Not that he was scared of him or anything – he just didn’t want to upset Patton by getting into a fight with his brother.

They reached Roman’s car far too soon.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Patton said.

Roman swallowed down his nerves. “Wait. I owe you an apology.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Patton said. He hugged his arms close to his body. “It’s okay if you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Don’t want to-? Patton, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment we met.”

“Then… why didn’t you?” Patton asked.

Roman sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He really had messed up. “Did you read my texts?”

Patton shook his head. “They, uh, they got deleted.”

Well, Roman had known Patton was upset. “You were drunk,” he explained. “I do want to kiss you, but only if you want me too, and not just because you’re drunk.”

“Well, I’m not drunk now,” Patton said.

Roman laughed. “I should hope not.”

“And I want you to kiss me,” Patton added.

Roman swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Oh.”

He took a step forward, and tilted Patton’s chin up with one hand. Patton’s lips parted slightly.

“Can I?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

The kiss was brief. Patton stayed still as Roman leaned in to it, and Roman could taste the Chapstick on his lips. When he drew back, his own lips were buzzing.

“Oh,” Patton said quietly.

“Is that a good oh?” Roman asked.

He’d only kissed a boy once before, back in freshman year. Then there had been the girl that he’d kissed for a play, but he’d quickly decided that that didn’t count.

“Very good,” Patton said.

Roman brushed a strand of hair away from Patton’s face. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Are you always going to apologise like that?” Patton asked.

“I never want to have to apologise to you again.”

Patton blushed, and then grabbed Roman’s hand.

“Don’t go home,” he said. “Not yet.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay here?”

“No,” Patton said. “I mean, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Why, Patton,” Roman asked, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Why, Roman,” Patton replied. “I think I am.”

The autumn sun was already on its way down, turning the air around them golden. Roman crossed to the passenger side of the car, and pulled open the door.

“Well then, my dear,” he said. “Your carriage awaits.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #anxceit #royality #intrulogical #virgil sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ten things #my fic

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megaboy335 · 4 years ago

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Mega’s Top 2020 Anime

The year 2020 is finally coming to an end. It’s been an unusual year to say the least. Coronavirus more or less almost cancelled the entire spring anime season, which lead to a strange anime schedule for the rest of the year since delays have trickle down effects to what was in the pipeline. To be completely honest, this was not a good year for anime. I watched only a handful of very good shows, and the rest were mediocre at best. The top 5 shows I talk about here are definitely worth watching at least.

So with the introduction out of the way, lets get into this. As usual this list is just my opinions. Don’t take it too seriously.

1) Kaguya-sama Love is War? (Season 2)

The second season of Kaguya-sama took everything from season 1 and brought it up a level. The visual gags became more impressive, the voice acting was just as good, and the show is delivering sharper writing as we get deeper into the manga.

Season 2 added two new notable aspects to the show. First, a new member to the main cast by the name of Iino. She adds a new angle to exploit for the skits as someone who adheres strictly to the rules. This often means Iino and Kaguya frequently bump heads. In fact how they interpret a situation can be entirely different, which creates numerous misunderstandings between them. Second, Kaguya-sama began expanding the skits into long form stories. There were a series of skits that form an arc spanning an entire episode, or in some cases multiple episodes. Episode 11 was the highlight of the season where Ishigami confronted his past to overcome the bad stigma surrounding his character. Additionally, the story added depth to his connection with Shirogane while making us realize there was more to Ishigami than meets the eye. Kaguya and Shirogane also both became a little closer as the tangled web of their schemes yielded unexpected results at times.

Kaguya-Sama has an ova and season 3 planned. I eagerly look forward to seeing what new crazy situations the characters find themselves in.

2) A Certain Scientific Railgun T (Season 3)

After waiting 6 years since the conclusion of season 2, the Railgun anime finally returned to adapt two more arcs from the manga.

The first half was a Railgun version of the Daissheisai Festival arc. This version focuses on a completely different event in the arc with a story involving Misaki, Misaka, and Dolly. It pulls us deeper into the story threads established in the Level Upper and Sisters arc of what the scientists were doing out of the public eye. We meet the original Misaka clone and how Misaki came to meet her which adds a new layer to the current Misaka and Misaki relationship that we never knew. We see how Misaki is also a victim of the dark experiments occurring behind the scenes in Academy City. The experiment to turn Misaka into a level 6 was a very hype moment. Railgun’s Daissheisai Festival arc definiely hit all the right notes.

The second half of Railgun season 3 was the Dream Ranker arc. Like in previous seasons, I found the 2nd cour arc to be weaker than the first half. Indian Poker is a fun concept, but didn’t cleanly tie into the overall story. I also found it weird how special cards that can exchange dreams suddenly exist out of nowhere. Additionally, this arc brought it characters from the Accelerator spin-off which I wasn’t familiar with. It had a few cool and funny moments scattered throughout. The final fight at least brought the conflict to a satisfying conclusion. The only thing holding back Railgun for me like always is my lack of knowledge of the greater Raildex universe. Hopefully this won’t be the last we see of Railgun in animated form because I picked up the manga and the next arc is pretty neat.

3) The Journey of Elaina

The Journey of Elania is an anthology-centric anime where we follow Elania on her adventures. The first episode is a prologue to how she became a witch and the origins of her ambitions. Episode 2-onwards follow a fairly straightforward template of Elania arriving at a new location. She notices something isn’t quite right or learns about something from a local. As the story unfolds, Elania often takes a backseat role and opts to watch things playout. An anime of this style always brings a mixed bag to the table with the kind of stories that are told within the universe. Each episode/adventure is only loosely connected through the main character Elania traveling to a new location, but otherwise they are mostly independent besides a handful of recurring characters.

Naturally this format means there are both great and not so good episodes. There are bitter sweet tales, comedic, and even a few darker entries mixed within this show. In particular, there were a few standout episodes that cemented this show as something worth watching. Episode 7 was a comedy episode split into two halves. One half showed how two towns divided by a wall were ironically doing the same thing to the wall on each side. The second half recalled how Elania accidentally started a grape stomping tradition in a tiny village. Then there was episode 9, the darkest entry of the show so far, when Elania went back in time to help someone save their childhood friend. However, this person came to realize she hardly knew what her childhood friend was really like. Lastly, the last episode was unexpectedly deep where Elania met various alternate versions of herself and had to confront a dark version spawn from the events in episode 8. It showed how her journey can take all sorts of directions if events had transpired even a little differently.

A high part of the appeal to me was never knowing what kind of story we would get each week. Was it going to be light-hearted? Serious? Would it focus on Elania or not? Her adventures were certainly full of unexpected happenings. The light novels are 17 volumes in and still going. I wouldn’t mind seeing more if they ever wanted to make another season.

4) Tonikaku Kawaii

From the prolific author Kenjiro Hata comes an anime adaptation of his newest work under the “Crunchyroll Originals” label. The story is simply about a guy who is head over heels for his new wife and can’t get over how awesome it is living with her. Tonikaku Kawaii is a simple show that chooses to highlight the little moments between our main couple Nasa and Tsukasa. We go through all sorts of everyday events with them such as the act of buying a ring, a new television, bedding, and meeting each other’s family. All the characters are so earnest you can’t help but enjoy their silly banter. There is little to no drama here to drive the story forward. You just get to enjoy a newlywed couple discovering new things about each other as they go through everyday life.

However, at the end of the day Tonikaku Kawaii is far from complete and is honestly the type of show that likely wouldn’t make my list most years. It hardly scratched its overarching story during the 1 cour run. The thing that put it over the top for me was simply how likable each of its characters were. They all present their emotions like an open book and you come to enjoy the little quirks of each one. I was slightly confused at how this show became a “Crunchyroll Original” when anything by Hata would have probably gotten an anime sooner or later. There are plenty of other Weekly Shonen Sunday series that could really use an outside force to help them get animated. I can only hope it did well enough for Crunchyroll to consider investing into more from the magazine .

5) Ahiru no Sora

As usual, my list usually contains at least 1 show that began in the previous year. Ahiru no Sora is an anime that not a lot of people watched, but became one of my favorites each week. This is a 4 cour basketball series about a main character named Sora who is too short for basketball. Despite this set-back, he has a deep passion for the game imparted from his mother and wishes to someday find the same success as she did at the sport. The story begins when he enrolls in a new school and has to build the basketball club from scratch. However, the catch is the basketball team is basically non-existent. He ends up creating a team from a group of unlikely people: the ones who were bullying him. Ahiru no Sora presents a down to earth human side to the sport. There are no fantasy or supernatural elements found in this story. It follows a group of rough around the edges guys whose lives gets back in order through playing basketball together.

All of the main characters go through a decent amount of growth as their personal stories are explored, and Sora especially is taken through a series of events that allow his character to grow more than anyone. I was pleasantly surprised at how emotional it got at times. There was some real heart put into this series. In the middle of the show it genuinely felt the team had hit rock bottom. They lost a major game, the club room was lit on fire, and Sora lost his mother all right in a row. It was the recovery from that period and how each member matured from their experiences that solidified Ahiru no Sora as one of the top shows this year. The only thing holding back the show is that it's left incomplete since the manga is on-going (and actually on hiatus at the moment). I hope there will be an opportunity down the road to have more episodes.

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Disappointments of 2020

1) Deca Dence

I enjoyed Death Parade, Mob Psycho 100, and Detective Conan: Zero the Enforcer was pretty good too. So I figured another original anime from Tachikawa Yuzuru would be something I would like, and yet Deca Dence barely resonated with me. I could never wrap my mind around the setting of the show where robots would enter an alternate world called “Deca Dence” for sport or how these robots had a human persona in the game. The humans were effectively NPCs in the game to the eyes of the robots. The show no doubt had a story it wanted to tell, and it certainly went through the plot beats it wanted to hit, yet I could never get invested in the show. I’m still looking forward to whatever Tachikawa Yuzuru does next. I’ll just consider this as something was not for me.

2) The Day I Became God

This show marks Jun Meada’s 3rd anime original project with P.A. Works. I understand that Angel Beats and Charlotte are flawed shows, but that did not stop them from being enjoyable for me. This unfortunately did not apply to The Day I Became God. At a base level it has many of the usual troupes you would expect from a Jun Meada title: the humor, baseball, an emotionally driven story. The place where this shows failed hard was having no backbone to back up the story it was trying to present. I enjoyed the comedy in the early episodes quite a bit and was somewhat intrigued by a subplot in the background that was slowly creeping up on the main plot. Ending each episode on a countdown to the end of the world helped to keep a looming sense of unease during the early part of the show.

Then in typical Jun Meada fashion, the plot of the show hit all at once. Episode 9 was the big climax where the subplot and main plot collided to send the show into its “true” storyline. The hacker kid who uncovered everything about Hina in the early part was poorly utilized and underdeveloped. So when he joins our main group in episode 10 for a short period of time, his presence makes very little sense. I can only describe that part as a 10 hour VN plot condensed into 10 minutes. The male lead Narukami has almost no personal stake in the story. Hina is hilarious in the comedy episodes, but lacks any sufficient character arc built up to carry her into the final section. Jun Meada is trying to sell this as a love story between Narukami and Hina, but I just don’t see it. Narukami spent at least half the summer trying to wow his childhood friend only to suddenly change at the last minute. It felt so haphazardly put together.

The Day I Became God is an extremely bare bones Jun Meada story. It goes through the motions of similar elements to his previous works, but comes out feeling emotionally hollow. While Angel Beats and Charlotte also felt rushed in the grand scheme, I can at least say he got the emotional aspect right. This will be remembered as one of, if not Jun Meada’s weakest title.

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Top OPs/EDs of the Year

1) Jujutsu Kaisen Opening 1 - The song is great, but it’s the visuals that really sell this opening. Each shot is brilliantly connected to showcase how everything in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen is layered. There is far more than what meets in the eye in our surroundings. Curses and humans co-mingle more than you might think.

2) A Certain Scientific Railgun T Opening 1 - There still hasn’t been a bad Railgun opening yet. Flipside once again delivers a song that once again never failed gets me in the mood for the episode each week. The visuals highlight some of the best action moments in the arc too.

3) Black Clover Opening 10 - Unlike the other songs on the list this year, this a slower somber song. It always makes me think of Nero’s backstory and how the story was leading up to the fight versus the devil. The black and white aesthetic with rain conveys how everything is laid bare for this major story climax.

4) Kaguya-Sama Love is War? Opening - Just like how this season is more character focused, the opening animation is basically a 90 second skit. It never fails to get to get me in the mindset for the hijinks that are ahead in the episode. The song itself is also a great follow up to the previous opening.

5) Rent-a-Girlfriend Opening - It’s a colorful opening that highlights the best aspects of each character. It completely conveys what the show is about with some nice music. I love how fun and upbeat this opening is. It definitely helped to set the tone for the episodes each week.

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....and so, that brings 2020 to a close. The North American anime scene is shifting once again with Sony buying out Crunchyroll. Hopefully the result of the merger keeps Crunchyroll as an entity alive. I’ll be curious to see how everything shakes out. In the coming year I am most looking forward to Chainsaw Man’s anime. The manga is quite an experience and anime viewers will be spinning their heads over learning how such a series was published in Weekly Shonen Jump. I think it has a good chance of being one of the most talked about shows in the new year.

Lets hope 2021 is a good one.

#Mega's Words

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fangirllifu · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Like Pudding Ch. 21

Italics - thoughts

Throughout the duration of Kanna's stay in the training camp, her wardrobe had been a collection of what she originally wore when she came, to spare pants from the managers and spare shirts the guys had. Additionally, there was also laundry, a whole lot of laundry. You can just imagine the amount of irresponsibility Koutarou's impulse decision had, when you think about her need for day and night clothes. Which would've been avoided, had he properly planned it all out.

Though on the bright side, an unexpected opportunity arose.

As per usual every morning, Kanna made her way down the stairs towards the Fukurodani quarters to meet up with Akaashi, who was left with the responsibility of asking the guys for extra shirts for Kanna, seeing as his own captain just couldn't. She smiled and greeted Akaashi with a wave of her hand, to which he nodded his head back in greeting. Once she was close enough, Akaashi extended his arm to hand her the shirt in his hand.

"Thank you Keiji. But is it really necessary? I could've just used the shirt I'm wearing right now, right? It's the last day anyway." Kanna questions, as she pinches a fabric of her shirt between her fingers as a gesture to further explain her point.

"Nonsense. You're a lady, Kanna-san. You shall do no such thing." Akaashi chides disapprovingly at her.

"Okay…." Kanna cringes guiltily at the look she was currently receiving from the taller male, as she reluctantly accepts the shirt being handed to her.

"I was just trying to be efficient here…. He doesn't have to give me the look." Kanna pouts as she turns away from Akaashi and the scolding look being directed at her.

A few meters ahead, she sees Yaku who just came out of the bathroom.

"Good morning Kanna-chan!" Yaku greets with a wave of his hand, as he walks towards her to go back to his team's quarters.

"Good morning to you too, Yaku-san." Kanna greets back with a bow of her head, before she turns to make her way back up the stairs to the manager's floor.

Missing Yaku shooting Akaashi with a questioning look and receiving a thumbs up in response, both of them with equally wide grins on their faces.

The morning proceeded as usual with the girls preparing breakfast, and the guys gradually being awakened from their slumbers by their respective early bird members. It's the last day, but Nishinoya still shows no mercy. On the bright side, Asahi and Sugawara don't have to suffer any longer than they already have.

As the first few start trickling into the cafeteria, Miyanoshita and Otaki get ready to serve them on the front. While Suzumeda and Kanna were at the back washing the equipment they used to prepare the food. Yachi, Shimizu and Shirofuku were currently eating, as they came down later that the others to clean up and put all the futons back where they should be. After they're done, the three of them will switch with Miyanoshita and Otaki so those two could then eat their breakfast. Suzumeda and Kanna would join them once they're finished with their respective tasks.

Soon enough the cafeteria is filled with everyone, from the Coaches to the players. Everyone was up and buzzing to get in last minute practice before the end of the camp. After a while Suzumeda and Kanna finally emerge from the back to join the rest to eat, joining the table with the other managers.

Kuroo was just sitting there eating, chatting and listening quite entertained by the chaos of his team and the single-brain celled group. Beside him sat Kenma, already finished with his breakfast and as usual glued to his console, busy ignoring everything around him in favor of the game he was playing. Kuroo looked around to survey who was still in the room, when he saw something that made him choke on the food he was chewing on.

Yaku looked towards him in alarm, passing him a glass of water as he smashed his band on Kuroo's back. Kuroo spluttered in response to the harsh treatment, shooting Yaku a disgruntled glare. Only to receive a single brow raised in response. Kuroo just shook his head as he chugged the water to force the food down and out of his windpipe.

When he was finally stable, Yaku opened his mouth to ask. "What was that?"

"I got distracted, okay." Kuroo shrugged as he once again continued to his eat food, finally sure he was capable of keeping everything where they're supposed to go.

"By?" Yaku further questioned.

As Kuroo chewed, he inclined his head towards where the managers were sitting. He leaned in closer to Yaku and briefly glanced at Kenma before he swallowed his food and opened his mouth.

"That's Kenma's shirt. Kanna-chan's wearing Kenma's shirt. How?!" He whisper-yelled, looking absolutely ridiculous as he gazed back and forth between Kanna and Kenma.

"Oh, that~" Yaku laughs with a mischievous smile, earning him a look full of suspicion from the taller male.

"It was me. Akaashi and I were hoping to get a reaction out of Kenma. Looks like he hasn't noticed it yet though." Yaku explains, side eyeing Kenma who was still engrossed in his game.

"Akaashi, huh….?" Kuroo hummed in thought as he finished what was left of his food.

"Bokuto doesn't know, does he?" He asked looking amusedly towards the said male, currently entertaining the orange-haired shrimpy.

Yaku shook his head. "Nope. And neither does Kanna."

Kuroo thought for a moment before turning towards him to speak again. "You just playing or playing cupid?"

"Cupid. Between those two? Who wouldn't?" Yaku answered immediately without a second thought.

"Fair enough." Kuroo nods his head at the justified answer he got from the shorter male.

It was only a little later, while they were playing a match against Fukurodani, that Kenma noticed. Now he realized why Kuroo was being even more of a dumbass than usual. He had to constantly avoid looking her way to keep his face from exploding in a bright red flush. Unfortunately, this resulted in him being extremely rigid in his movements, which didn't go unnoticed by a select few.

"Guess he finally noticed." Thought Akaashi, Yaku, Sugawara and Kuroo, silently chuckling in satisfaction at the reaction they elicited from the normally indifferent setter.

Though, they weren't the only ones who took notice of the unnatural behavior.

"Is something wrong?"

Kanna shook her head and instead re-focused on the drills the players, she was assigned to monitor, were doing. She could always ask him about it later.

But for some reason, she didn't know, she felt like he was avoiding her line of sight every time she tried to get his attention. She finally resolved herself to question him when she found him sitting by himself, away from the rest enjoying the barbeque near the grills.

"Hey, Kenma?" Kanna called out as she approached the setter. Kenma raised his head, acknowledging her presence.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asks as she sat down beside him.

"Huh?" Kenma said confused, as he pocketed his phone away to better listen to what she has to say.

"It just kinda feels like…..you're avoiding me for some reason." She says dejectedly, looking down at her hands.

Kenma sighed as he stood up and gently lead her by the arm to somewhere more private, away from the prying eyes of his nosy team. Once they were far enough for his sanity, he let go of her arm.

After a few seconds, Kanna decided to break the silence. "Is something wrong?"

"No—Uh… Just—Um…. That shirt…" Kenma stutters, turned slightly away from her to hide his flushed face (he knew 'cause he could feel it).

"Hm?" She tilted her head at him in question.

"I didn't know you were the one who needed the extra shirt, when Yaku asked for mine." Kenma mumbles, but Kanna was still able to catch what he said.

"Oh..." Kanna utters, realization dawning upon her in the resounding silence.

"No wonder he kept insisting I use the shirt! Curse you Keiji!"

Kanna quickly bowed, flustered as she splutters. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I—I—I—"

"It's fine. You don't have to say sorry. You can just return it to me the next time we see each other." Kenma cuts off, trying to console the flustered girl, as he lifts her up from her bow.

"Okay then… if you say so…." Kanna concedes and follows after Kenma as he turned to make his way back to the others.

They part ways with Kenma finding another place a little away from the others, where he could play his games in silence and Kanna heading to the managers talking amongst themselves.

Kanna arrived just in time to witness Shirofuku showcasing how many onigiris she could eat in a second, causing her to laugh along with the other girls. They were all chatting for a while, being silly and enjoying the atmosphere of the barbeque, when Kanna felt a gaze on her. She turned her head and locked eyes with Kenma. She smiled at him briefly, before turning back to the conversation she was having with Yachi.

Not realizing that her simple gesture caused a great shift to occur.

Notes:

And that concludes the official end of the Training Camp Arc. Onward we go! Also Happy Birthday to our resident rooster-headed Chemistry Nerd and scheming Captain, the Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo Tetsurou!

I don't really know what happened while I was writing this chapter. This was supposed to be a short special chapter, instead it ended up being a long one. I guess it comes with my weird impulse to further explain and in addition, add more to the story for better flow and understanding. Well at least it works, right(?) Hopefully it does, or else I'm just being paranoid for no apparent reason.

[Previous Chapter | Next Chapter]

Chapter List

#Sweet Like Pudding #kozume kenma x oc #Kozume Kenma #Bokuto Koutarou #akaashi keiji #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #slow burn #romance #family #friendship

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afterspark-podcast · 4 years ago

Text

G1 Episode 35: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

S: It's like, we do get a view of what the robots seem like to the humans and it’s basically that they're massive dumbasses.

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls.

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're gonna be talking about episode number 35: Desertion of the Dinobots, Part 1. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Sure.

O: And I got a new mic! So hopefully I sound a little bit better because my headset mic was disappointing.

S: You sound good to me.

O: [Laughter] I'm just hoping for an improvement, quite frankly. Today we open on a wide green field where a scientist is flying an unmanned drone via a remote.

S: The Autobots are, you know, very complimentary towards the- about the drones maneuvers and a few feet away Soundwave clearly wants a break from Decepticon shenanigans and is taking a nap in Ironhide's backseat with Blaster.

O: A very strange booty call, perhaps?

S: Either that or him and Blaster just have, you know, scheduled naps in and, unbeknownst, to Ironhide he was their next meeting spot.

O: That seems rude to a coworker, but- but what do I know about Autobot co-worker shenanigans? Ravage then ejects from Soundwave, who is still a boom box, uh, before being detained by Blaster.

S: Did Blaster not want Ravage tattling about what they do in their downtime?

O: Possibly. You mean boombox cuddling? Blaster kind of finishes transforming? He’s like half transformed grabbing Ravage and Soundwave gets bumped out of Ironhide before transforming himself and just flying off.

S: Oh and, to clarify, the entire scuffle with Blaster and Ravage is literally inside Ironhide's, um, caboose?

O: Yeah they basically-

S: Trunk? I don’t know what-

O: [Laughter] The back part of his van. Basically, Ravage tackles Blaster and they sort of fall back into Ironhide. [Laughter]

S: Yeah. Yeah, it just makes the entire thing pretty awkward.

O: Why? You don't wake up with one of your mortal enemies in your backseat every day, Specs?

S: Well, I sure as hell hope not.

O: [Laughter]

S: So, you know, Ironhide it has some, you know, junk going on in his- in his trunk, you see.

O: Lord, not again. Why is it always Ironhide? It’s always Ironhide! [Laughter]

S: He has a lot of space.

O: This shot is just so awkward, anyway, it definitely looks like Ravage is topping Blaster inside of Ironhide and, I mean, I definitely believe that Ravage is probably a top but wow! That van is just rockin right there. [Laughter] And then Soundwave flies over to Megatron and Starscream who are hanging out upon a convenient verdant hillside.

S: And, honestly, they’re right in plain sight so I don't really get why no one notices them. The Autobots don't notice them. The humans don't notice them. Did they use an invisibility spray again or can we just see them because we're breaking the fourth wall?

O: Ah, I believe that's the power of plot convenience I smell.

S: Starscream prepares to shoot the drone but Megatron knocks his arm down with a great bonk effect, saying something about needing to be more discreet.

O: Discreet! You’re all standing out in the open! Soundwave was chilling in Ironhide five minutes ago, for Pete's sake!

S: Starscream says what we're all thinking, “Since when has discretion mattered to us?”

O: Megatron hands over something to him and says to use it on the drone.

S: And then, back to our opening scene, it appears Ironhide has woken up and would like to know what the fuck is going on.

O: [Laughter] Ravage runs off and Blaster gets dumped on the ground as Ironhide transforms.

S: No one is having a good day.

O: No one is having a good day. [Laughter]

S: Blaster explains this only as, “Rockin and rollin with savage Ravage,” which does not make it sound any less dirty.

O: Nope.

S: Or less risque?

O: [Laughter] Ironhide exclaims that they need to tell Prime that, “Decepticons are afoot,” but considering we see the Autobots watching the drone which Starscream is flying directly over I feel like they should probably know already.

S: Yeah, I mean-

O: And-

S: None of them have very good observational skills, let's just go with that.

O: No they don’t.

S: Except Perceptor.

O: Yeah, but I don't think Percy's here today so they can't see shit. [Laughter]

S: Percy's busy doing science.

O: Percy’s, you know, busy doing his actual job, duh.

S: Man, speaking of the drone, it has a pretty weird design. Like, why does it have cockpits, let alone two?

O: No freaking idea. Starscream drops the device Megatron gave him onto the drone and then it explodes.

S: Like what was the point of this entire thing?

O: I don’t- don’t really know what this accomplished at all.

S: Yeah, yeah so Blaster and Ironhide run up to warn Optimus and then Blaster says that he just went three rounds with Ravage.

O: Jesus Christ. you two! This is a children’s show! [Laughter]

S: So the Autobots roll out to check the wreckage because no one is going to address what Blaster just said.

O: [Laughter] No one- no one is going to address this. Okay!

S: Yeah and so along with them are: Jazz, Hound, and Mirage who were also, I guess, just hanging out doing whatever.

O: Not fucking Ravage? [Laughter]

S: [Laughter]

O: But Megatron has a scheme while the Autobots are distracted. To which I say he could have just left Ravage in Ironhide’s back seat I feel like that was distracting enough but what do I know?

S: I don't know, man. And- and onwards to a very 80s lab in stylish Autobot orangey-yellow.

O: Don't you just hate it when you're working and the entirety of Decepticon High Command Kool-Aid Man's their way into your workspace?

S: Yeah and, honestly, Starscream just looks weirdly pale in this shot. Maybe imitating the Kool-Aid Man doesn't agree with him.

O: See I think they just failed to get his makeup right for this shot, don't you?

S: Yeah, yeah, I think that's more likely.

O: [Laughter]

S: Megatron tells the scientists to hand over the blueprints and he'll let them live.

O: Starscream gets mad and thinks Megatron's being soft and stomps in and picks up one of the scientists, threatening him with his null-ray.

S: It's like, Starscream, I'm not sure what that's-

O: Helping?

S: Yeah.

O: How is that helping?

S: Yeah. The scientist just, like, points out where the blueprints are- are stored and then he's perfectly fine when Starscream just tosses them to the ground so, it’s like, okay?

O: They go to open the vault, but the Autobots arrive.

S: Why is the vault so big? Because it's, like, Decepti- it's like giant robot scaled.

O: They have extra big secrets to store inside?

S: Oh god it's like the ‘her hair’s so big it's full of secrets.’

O: Except a door, a vault. Whatever.

S: Yeah. Oh and Jazz proceeds to distract Starscream with, you know, his loud music and light show.

O: But Megatron is apparently unaffected by this and goes to shoot the Autobots but then his fusion cannon is yanked off his arm by an invisible Mirage.

S: Mirage actually gets to use his ability today!

O: What a concept.

S: Yeah.

O: And then Megatron basically runs over and kicks Mirage in the nads in an effort to grab his fusion cannon back from him.

S: No one's having a good day. [Laughter]

O: [Laughter] No one is having a good day.

S: And then Megs is then seen across the room, beckoning Soundwave and Starscream to follow him out of their Kool-Aid Man hole.

O: Soundwave and Starscream clearly don't have any peripheral vision to speak of, you know, like the Autobots, and fly off- not noticing that the real Megatron is still very much in the same room as them and very much still trying to get this fusion cannon back from Mirage.

S: A fusion cannon and tug of war just doesn't seem to go well for anyone.

O: Right! Well, they're doing it from the sides, they're doing the smart thing where I don't think they're pulling on the actual barrel but, you know, while it’s pointed at them but still, yes.

S: Yeah, but yeah, you're right no one has peripheral vision or you know any observational skills.

O: It was funny, too, when we were watching it, cuz even I was like, how the fuck did he get over there? And I totally thought it was an animation error. [Laughter]

S: I mean, if there was smoke or something you could forgive-

O: Yeah, yeah.

S: There is zero smoke.

O: Yeah, there's nothing, like, you know, making it harder for them to see or anything.

S: Yeah, and then Optimus comes in out of stage left, kicking Megatron, you know, in his keister, you know, through a wall.

O: Megatron retreats.

S: Now we suddenly cut to an amusement park, complete with carnival music and Ferris Wheels!

O: And after some shots of various carnival sites we are greeted with Bumblebee on the teacups with Spike and Carly.

S: This is, like, super poorly drawn but it's functioning like the teacup ride so I guess that's what we're calling it.

O: We gotta call it something.

S: Or I think- yeah. Huh. Bumblebee is confused about why the ride is supposed to be fun until Carly, you know, just opens him up and turns off his equilibrium circuits.

O: Why-why does Carly know how to do that? Should I be concerned?

S: She's a super genius and she is not afraid to, you know, effectively do internal surgery on her robot friends.

O: Ain't that the truth. The three of them seem to have a very full day planned as after they leave at the amusement park they go stop by the airport to pick up Sparkplug and, Oh God, Sparkplug is in a suit!

S: He's in a waistcoat, even! Why was he in a suit? Is he their legal representative? Or, perhaps, is he a more traditional flyer?

O: [Laughter] Most interesting man in the world?

S: Let's go with both.

O: Why not, why not?

S: Spike sees two military jets fly into a hangar and questions why they're at a commercial airport.

O: Completely missing that their paint jobs clearly identify them as Thundercracker and Thrust.

S: Oh god, maybe- maybe those are weirdly common paint schemes in their universe.

O: That- that would be strange. That would definitely be strange.

S: It would be. I don't know. So, you know, Spike and company follow the mysterious jets and surprise! Decepticons! How did they even get out of the airport?

O: There wasn't airport security in the eighties, Specs.

S: That’s true.

O: Certainly not like there is now, anyway, besides they have, you know, the best pass in the world: the “My Best Friend is a Giant Alien Robot Pass” since Bee was in the airport with them.

S: Yes, but how did he get through the doors?

O: Pfft- he got into an arcade, I'm pretty sure an airports no problem. Um, Bee calls Prime for backup but they're still cleaning up their mess at the lab they were out previously and Prime calls headquarters, instead.

S: Oh, they're just playing phone tag. So Optimus reaches Wheeljack and deems it necessary to let the Dinobots out of their baby closet.

O: Grimlock’s not happy about the orders, but Wheeljack asked nicely in his best dad voice and at the airport Bee and the Dinobots are then hiding behind a big passenger jet.

S: God, Bee is so tiny compared to the rest of them, cuz he really comes up to their knees-

O: [Laughter]

S: But I imagine that the airport staff is having a conniption.

O: [Laughter] I would hope. Bee points to the helpfully labeled “Hangar” in all caps and tells the Dinobots the Decepticons are in there.

S: The Dinobots smash their way into the hangar, and into a bickering Starscream and Megatron. How did the airport staff not realize that-

O: Their entire warehouse or um, ware- it's not a warehouse-

S: -Hangar.

O: -Hangar was being used by evil robots? Who the fuck knows.

S: Cuz, I mean, oh god, maybe someone was paying rent?

O: I mean- Soundwave! Soundwave clearly set this up and was like- if we're paying rent, they won't bother us. I wouldn't blame him if that was the conclusion you reached.

S: Same!

O: [Laughter] So Slag proceeds to completely melt one of Starscream’s null-rays.

S: No one's having a good day!

O: No one is having a good day.

S: Except maybe the Dinobots.

O: They get to destroy things.

S: Yeah. Outside Sludge saves Bumblebee by kicking Blitzwing into a wall.

O: Inside the hangar it gets Looney Tunes up in here with Snarl knocking over some barrels and the Seekers all falling on their faces.

S: That’s super Looney Tunes.

O: It's gonna get more Looney Tunes here in a moment.

S: Yeah. He also hits Rumble into Megatron and then they both fall backwards onto the computer console.

O: And Megatron just tosses Rumble off screen immediately afterwards.

S: I feel if I keep saying no one's having a good day we're just gonna be repeating that a lot so I'm gonna stop.

O: [Laughter]

S: Just take it as a given. Thundercracker and Thrust are taken out by Swoop and crash into the hangar, causing it to explode. And then Megatron pulls himself out of the wreckage. and orders an attack.

O: I mean, none of them are having a good day. Megatron's really not having a good day.

S: Yeah. they’re- None of them are having a good day. At all.

O: The Dinobots have zero trouble with taking out the remaining four Decepticons by themselves because they’re the fucking Dinobots.

S: Yep, and Megatron ends up face-planting onto the floor of the airport terminal after Grimlock picks him up in his, you know, t-rex mouth and tosses him.

O: I mean, seriously, let's break this down: We've got the fusion cannon getting stolen, getting hit by Rumble, a building collapsing on him, and then getting picked up by a giant fucking t-rex! I'm just saying, that's a lot of things to pack into one day!

S: Well, a few hours.

O: [Laughter] Yeah! Yes! It’s not even been a huge, long length of time. So he lands right in front of Spike and company and then, in the next shot, they're all outside. So did they gain teleporting powers?

S: Maybe they just walked out the hole?

O: Past the passed out Megatron? That seems like a poor option, even if he is passed out.

S: I don't think some of them have very good survival instincts, ok.

O: [Laughter] Boy, do they not. The Dinobots returned to robot mode and Megatron and Skywarp shoot the passenger jets behind them, causing a massive explosion and sending all the Dinobots flying.

S: I mean, that is a smart choice considering that, if they were entirely fueled up planes they'd have a hell of a lot of-

O: Fuel? Explosive fuel? Yeah.

S: Yeah. Megatron proclaims victory and not checking that the Dinobots are dead at all.

O: Inferno, Hoist, and Red Alert show up and Hoist begins moving the Dinobots back to base.

S: By putting them into, like, one of the ruined planes and they tow it.

O: Right. I totally forgot about that.

S: It's- it seems like a really awkward way to transport your wounded.

O: [Laughter] It does, but they are so huge that I kind of understand it. So back in the Ark, Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Hoist are all trying to put the Dinobots back together.

S: And then they all wax poetic about mix- missing Cybertron and complain about the primitive tools they have to use.

O: Didn’t they- Didn’t you make them with those tools, Ratch?

S: Yeah. Back at the airport, Powerglide is literally shitting bricks while him and Ironhide try to help repair the damage. Unfortunately, they are very bad.

O: It's like the worst building, ever. Grapple destroys it putting the roof on.

S: Did they even put a door in there?

O: It really didn't look like it. It's funnier because Optimus seems like he's trying to direct Grapple and I want you to please envision Ro- Ron Swanson saying, “I know more than you,” for his response.

S: Yeah. Elsewhere, the Decepticons are all flying in the air before they all suddenly fall to the ground and Rumble and Ravage are both acting super strange. Ravage is running around and Rumble seemingly is not able to control himself and keeps punching Megatron.

O: Megs just sort of bats him away. I think this is, like, time number 4 getting tossed for poor Rumble this episode?

S: Yeah, poor guy’s just kind of a hacky sack.

O: Little bit. You’re too tiny Rumble, we’re sorry.

S: Megatron vows to figure out what the fuck is going on before we jet back over to the Ark.

O: Wheeljack and Ratchet are putting the finishing touches on the Dinobots’ repairs.

S: Optimus calls the Ark and orders the Dinobots to stop the Decepticons who are running amok again.

O: The Dinobots refuse after getting, you know, exploded last time and tell Optimus the kid-friendly equivalent to fuck off and then walk out.

S: And then Wheeljack and Ratchet have to watch their babies walk away.

O: So sad. The Decepticons are trying to gather Energon from a power plant in order to fix the whole, you know, falling out of the sky thing.

S: The Autobots arrive and transform, all except for Jazz who seems to be stuck in car mode. And then Ironhide attempts some percussive maintenance and kicks him.

O: Which does, indeed, work and Jazz is able to transform the rest of the way.

S: Megatron loses his ability to form words mid-sentence.

O: Starscream immediately proclaims himself the leader of the Decepticons before nose-diving right into a pile of Energon cubes. You know, exactly what you would expect to happen. [Laughter]

S: Ahh, things just start to go wrong. Ironhide’s-

O: Very wrong for everyone.

S: Yep, Ironhide’s Swiss Army knife powers have backfired incredibly badly, as this entire body freezes up when he goes to shoot Starscream with liquid nitrogen.

O: Mirage thinks he has turned invisible but- but then gets beaned by Thundercracker when tried to attack him because he has not, in fact, turned invisible.

S: Yep. Ravage successfully attacks Optimus before involuntarily transforming into tape mode.

O: And Optimus just picks up the tape and dumps it into a barrel and I'm like, “You bastard.”

S: Jazz proceeds to lose his groove and then Blitzwing falls into a hole of his own making. Starscream goads Megatron into action.

O: To which he responds, “If only to spite you!” Which if that doesn't summarize their entire relationship, I don't know what does.

S: True. Starscream takes aim at Optimus with Megatron in gun mode but Megatron's uh, performance leaves quite a lot to be desired.

O: Megatron then orders a retreat but the Cons are unable to fly and instead run away- on foot.

S: Back at the base, the same symptoms that are- the same- condition that seems to be affecting the Cons is also, apparently, affecting the Autobots. They have the same sort of symptoms and- yeah.

O: Optimus can barely stand.

S: And then he collapses into a pose that makes him resemble a giant toddler. It's- not very dignified.

O: No, no it is not. But fear not! Perceptor has it all figured out because, you know, Perceptor is the only Autobot that can do his damn job around here.

S: Yeah, none of them have been eating their- well, none of them have been eating their leafy greens, effectively.

O: Or, in other words, they're missing an element that is necessary for their function.

S: Said element, of course, can only be found on Cybertron.

O: All the Autobots look worse for wear from all this but Jazz in particular is having a bad time with his bottom half stuck in car mode.

S: And, possibly, upside down.

O: I- yeah, I can't remember and Powerglide is even missing his head.

S: Oh dear. Yeah, cuz it's, like, not connected to his body. A headless airman, if you will? Carly and Spike run in and tell Optimus that Shockwave is sending a shipment of the missing element, Cybertonium, to earth.

O: The Autobots are, unfortunately, not in any position to do anything with this information for obvious reasons.

S: But Carly realizes that the Dinobots are still functioning normally, as they were built on Earth. And they don't include-

O: Don't require this to keep functioning, essentially.

S: Yeah, they just weren't constructed with it at all.

O: Yeah.

S: So they use Teletraan 1 to track the Dinobots down and they leave in Carly's car.

O: Sparkplug jokes about not being sure he remembers how to drive it's been so long since he's had to drive, because they've been with the Autobots for however long.

S: Yeah, so they get there and Grimlock doesn't want to help at first, but thankfully Swoop manages to keep three humans from getting crushed.

O: He picks up Carly's entire car.

S: That sounds about right.

O: And with a little persuasion the big ol t-rex does ultimately agree to help.

S: The Dinobots arrive at the space bridge and manage to make it past the Constructicons and actually- accidentally end up on Cybertron. I'm kind of wondering if the Constructicons have the same element issue or if they don't.

O: Well, if they showed up later than they presumably haven't been missing it for the past million years. Maybe that's why they were guarding the space bridge.

S: That's true.

O: We're, of course, not told any of this, so I have no idea.

S: And, actually, I'm wondering about the Insecticons, too. But that's neither here or near- neither here nor there, because they are Sirs Not Appearing in this Episode.

O: Yeah, they may not even know and Decepticons maybe didn't even call them. On the receiving end of the Dinobots, poor Shockwave is shocked to get a triceratops suddenly to the face.

S: Sparkplug manages to figure out that the Dinobots are on Cybertron but Grimlock refuses to return to Earth.

O: Carly volunteers to go to Cybertron since the Dinobots aren't in any mood to help. Spike says Optimus will never agree to something so dangerous.

S: Oh, I mean, it's not like Optimus can stop them.

O: In fact, he just sort of falls on his face when he tries.

S: Yeah. Before they head out, Sparkplug gifts Spike a really lame looking communicator that sort of sticks to his thumb like a band-aid.

O: Well, Wheeljack isn't exactly up to par right now so, hmm.

S: Fair. Carly drives her car through Devastator’s legs to get to the space bridge like the goddamn badass she is.

O: And the episode ends with Shockwaves shooting the space bridge door as it opens - to which, join us next time for Desertion of the Dinobots, Part Two.

S: The Dinobots have arrived on Cybertron and they're ready to paint the planet red!

O: And I believe we have some fanfic for today.

S: All right, we have two pieces of fanfiction. We have “Walking with Dinobots” by BlushLouise- BlushLouise?

O: One of those.

S: Yeah. It's in the G1 Cartoon continuity. It's rated G, it's gen, there are no pairings and the characters are the Dinobots and Optimus Prime. So, in summary, “The humans have this show. It's called Walking with Dinosaurs. Until the Dinobots take an interest, that is. Or the many ways a Dinobot can sneak away to join the circus.” And that was just really cute. It’s been a while since I read it but really cute. And so our theme on that is “Dinobots getting to go around and do stuff,” I think.

O: Getting out and about, I believe.

S: Ah, getting out and about, thank you. And then our second fanfic recommendation is “Wayward” by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1). It's G1 Cartoon, it's rated G, it's gen, no pairings, and our characters are Wheeljack, Dinobots, and [Chip] Chase. And in summary, “As the Autobots recover from their Cybertonium depletion and readjust to working with the Dinobots (again), only one mech in particular seems to be healing poorly- not just physically but emotionally. Naturally that catches some attention.

S: And again- Dinobots.

O: And both of these are one shots.

S: Yeah, they’re both one shots and the second one I'd originally picked for the second episode but I think it also works pretty well here.

O: And our fan artist for today is Charlotte Cha [Sha]? Cha? Cha [Sha]. They seem to primarily do IDW. They probably have a bit more of- a bit more things than that but that's what I’ve primarily seen they have a ton of to Dratchet stuff. Uh, they've got a zine for their Young!Ratchet/Vet!Drift AU, and I think it's super cute. Today we've linked to that zine.

S: Yep, I have that downloaded somewhere it's really cute.

O: Another cuddly Dratchet fanart- of Drift and Ratchet just cuddling. It's very cute. And Tailgate being a complete and total dumbass and Cyclonus being, like, ‘Oh no, I have to protect this tiny idiot.’ It is fantastic. A lot of their stuff I've seen has been more sketchy and they do do other fan art that isn't Transformers related. We will be able to link to their Instagram. They frequently also go by the username VoyVoy or Voyahora, I think, and then their Tumblr is like PrimeADV, so I have no idea and just went with what they have listed I think on their Twitter as the real name so. But I do recommend their stuff! It's super cute and we will be posting links.

S: Mm-hmm. And that about wraps it up for us today. Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned. You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few. And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, Youtube, or AO3! Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

#transcript #g1 episode 35 #afterspark podcast #afterspark

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misssamericanaaa · 5 years ago

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My “Analysis”/Headcanons on Chaddick’s Family

Note before I begin - I typed this up in my drafts and it was a very long, unorganized, and rambling post and when I pasted it into Google Docs to edit it, it was three full pages! So this is still long but hopefully more organized and not as rambling!

Just a warning this does have some spoilers for Quests for Glory and The Crystal of Time so if you maybe haven’t read them yet but are interested in the series maybe don’t read this!

Ok, so I’m aware I’ve only been on this blog a solid 7 hours but I was off work today and my classes for the semester don’t start until next week so I had absolutely nothing to do today, and I ended up spending about 4 of those 7 hours going through various SGE tags here (tl;dr - I’ve read a lot of analysis and headcanons today) and I’m still processing most of it but there was one thing in particular in A Crystal of Time that really blew me away and I actually haven’t seen any thoughts on it here (I may just be missing them) so I thought I’d share my own!

Mistress Gremlaine

So can we talk about Mistress Gremlaine? The lady who works at the Foxwood School for Boys and briefly talked to Hort and Nicola before they ran past her to find Dean Brunhilde and is, so obviously to me, Chaddick’s mother? Which also makes Lady Gremlaine Chaddick’s aunt but I’ll get to that in a hot minute.

What first clued me in was the two boys who came out of the school and talked to their mother, the older one saying that his younger brother started crying in his history class because they were discussing Camelot’s knights “and well, you know”. That line was the kicker, in addition to their named being Caleb and Cedric, following the “C” naming scheme. Going back to Quest for Glory, when the obituary Lady Gremlaine showed Tedros said that Chaddick was survived by his parents and his brothers, aged 17 and 12 (which is what Hort and Nicola approximated their ages to be when they saw them). The older brother took his younger brother to the park to comfort him, and Mistress Gremlaine paid the gardener to keep an eye on them in the park, who said he didn’t blame her for doing so. I’ll be honest, it struck a chord with me. She’s already lost one son, and even though their kingdom is supposedly under Rhian’s protection, who could blame her for wanting to keep her remaining children safe?

I will say, however, that I am a little surprised that neither Hort nor Nicola picked up on this very obvious clue, especially seeing as Hort went to school with Chaddick for three years and even though Nicola didn’t know him, she was with the group when they found his body in Avalon and seems to be very sharp and picks up clues easily. Considering the older brother was only one year older than Chaddick (16 at the time of death), I’d assume there would be some familial resemblance, even with the younger brother as well. That paired with the interaction about Camelot’s knights makes me think that one of them would have figured it out. They’re both smart and I feel as though they tend to pick up on clues such as that. Then again, maybe they were preoccupied with not being caught and finding Dean Brunhilde.

Who Told His Family?

I also have some thoughts about his family in general, particularly with how they found out about his death. I seem to remember in QfG that his death was reported to the Camelot Courier by one of the mongooses (mongeese?) that killed the snakes inside the castle in Avalon. That isn’t necessarily important here though, more just me trying to remember a book I reread only last week.

So who told Chaddick’s family? Are they even aware of how he died? That he was killed by the Snake while on his quest as Tedros’ knight? I have three main theories, all of which are somewhat plausible.

Professor Dovey

Could it have been Dovey? I know she was dealing with some side stuff with her crystal ball but could she have taken a trip to Foxwood to inform his family about his death in person? I remember her being very upset about his death (rightfully so), and I do like the idea of Dovey honoring Chaddick by telling his family in person how their son died.

Lady Gremlaine

As much as I love that headcanon, another more likely possibility is that Lady Gremlaine informed them as soon as she got the news herself. Chaddickw as her nephew after all, and I would understand her wanting to tell his family herself, because she’s also family.

The One That Makes Me Really Sad

Ok the last, most heartbreaking, possibility is that they found out on their own, by reading his obituary in his newspaper. I remember that Dovey was upset it had been printed in the paper without her consent, meaning she may have had the intention of informing his family herself and never got the chance. My heart breaks at the idea of his mother or father reading the newspaper in the morning and suddenly coming across an obituary for their own son. Their own son that they presumably hadn’t seen in 3-4 years and is supposed to be off on a magical quest and now he’s dead and they don’t even know how.

Or it was one of his brothers, flipping through the paper looking for news of Camelot and then there’s their brother, except it’s his obituary and he’s dead. Their own brother, who they grew up playing and talking with and loving, who’s supposed to be a knight for the most legendary kingdom, the king of Camelot’s liege, and he’s dead.

Or they don’t even know and someone mentions it in passing, or asks for more information and ends up breaking the news to them.

(I did not know I had this many feelings about this topic, but whoops here we are.)

“Aunt Grisella”

Ok now it’s time to talk about Lady Gremlaine as Chaddick’s aunt, because that really came out of the blue for me. For a hot second, I was pretty horrified that Rhian and Japeth were his cousins but I suppose we dodged that bullet, although Evelyn Sader as their mother just feels random but that’s for another day.

She’s obviously his aunt because a) Chaddick’s mother is Mistress “Gremlaine” and b) Chaddick’s brothers referring to their “Aunt Grisella”. That’s said and done.

It also connected a scene from earlier that seemed a bit random to me, when Agatha, Sophie, and Tedros found the crystal of Chaddick with Lady Gremlaine before leaving for his quest. That just seemed off to me, so that’s somewhat cleared up. Tedros also mentioned that Lady Gremlaine had taken a liking to Chaddick, unlike Tedros and Agatha. Which brights us to our next point…

Was Chaddick aware she was his aunt? I would initially assume he knew, as his brothers knew Lady Gremlaine as their aunt, but it seems odd to me that he wouldn’t say anything to Tedros that his new steward just so happens to be Chaddick’s aunt. Tedros and Chaddick were supposed to be best friends, and Tedros is now his king, so it’s weird to me that he wouldn’t mention anything. There’s something off there and I really can’t put my finger on it, and probably won’t be able to unless there’s more information released in One True King.

Also, just me thinking out loud, if Chaddick knew Lady Gremlaine as his aunt, was he aware of her being King Arthur’s steward before he was born/when he was young? I’ll go out on a limb and assume that Lady Gremlaine was very private about her time at Camelot.

I’m also feeling that there was some mystery between her and Chaddick, because she was the one that told Tedros of his death and nothing came up in that time about being related to him. That may not have been something to mention at the time, but if Chaddick was aware she was his aunt I feel like it’s really odd that Tedros didn’t know. Also, that has to suck big time for Lady Gremlaine to learn of her nephew being murdered and then having to break the news to his king and supposed best friend and comfort Tedros, all while mourning herself.

I really feel like I’m missing a major piece of the puzzle with Lady Gremlaine being related to Chaddick but I feel like I’ve picked apart all of the relevant information we have at the time...I guess that’ll be something to hope for clarification in OTK!

I think that’s about all I have to say on this right now, but I also just want to say that I already been knew what I’m about to say but writing this post made me think of it a bit differently. Chaddick was killed way too soon. His death was a mere plot device and didn’t fit his character (well, what little we knew about him anyway). There was such great potential for character development and so many ‘what-ifs” in terms of being a part of The Camelot Years while being alive...he was done dirty. I wouldn’t say I mourn the character mainly (although I definitely still do), but I mourn what could have been and what a great character he would have made to the story. But that’s a topic that’s been covered very well by many people and also not the main point! I’m really just starting out on here and I just wanted to put my thoughts out there and in one place! :)

#sge #the school for good and evil #the crystal of time #sge spoilers #spoilers #tot spoilers #chaddick

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mariposalass · 5 years ago

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Weird Candy Cane Tasting (Candy Canes)

Summary: Mari, Philip, Ron, and the Gru girls taste some weird tasting candy canes and their reactions to them are absolutely priceless.

Notes: My Day 3 entry for @silentlyfangirlingselfshipper’s A Very Shippy Christmas event with the theme of candy canes. It’s just a short drabble of Philip, Ron, Mari, Margo, Edith and Agnes trying out a plenty of weird candy cane flavors and the results are pretty awkward to put it nicely. Diabetics or people whose families have a medical history of diabetes should be careful in reading this: this might make you squick in horror with plenty of sugar involved.

Tags: a very shippy Christmas, Christmas, Defying Time, Renewed Potential, Weasley the King, Orphanage Sweethearts, candy canes, sugar time, warning: sugar intake, crossovers, fluff, weird candy cane flavors, chaos ensues, spicy flavors

Modern holiday traditions and trends both perplex and amaze Philip at the same time: for one, he is trying to wrap his head around with the whole celebration shindig that the people of the present day are raving about, but on the same note, he’s quite intrigued by their interest in keeping the holiday spirit alive and well. After all, in his old timeline, there were simpler times then and sometimes using candles on trees might sound like a bad idea in hindsight.

It was a calm normal day in the shopping mall when he becomes all too curious about candy canes in general: he, Ron, and Mari were accompanying Margo, Edith, and Agnes at the mall while the girls’ parents, Gru and Lucy, are on a complicated and hard mission for the AVL at the moment. Mari doesn’t think letting the Minions to after the girls will stay as a good idea so she has Philip and Ron to help her out in the event of Edith and Agnes get lost; Margo, she knows, can look after her when solo, so she isn’t too hard to handle. They were passing by a nearby candy chop when he stopped to see what is available for the season: among the sweets being sold were candy canes of various colors, flavors, and manufacturers, and, since he’s fully aware of Edith and Agnes having a sweet tooth and mainly out of curiosity over the candy canes, he brought this up to them, and the response is mixed to say the least.

“We’re going to get CANDY CANES today!?!” Agnes shirked in happiness upon hearing his words.

“This is so awesome,” Edith happily gasped, her jaws feeling like they’re dropping onto the ground.

“Philip, you know that my sisters can be handful at times if they are anywhere near sugar, right?” Margo asked in concern, she wasn’t too crazy over sweets unlike her sisters though she loves to get some once in a while.

“Well, I...”

“Errr… Won’t the girls’ parents get mad at us for bringing them to the candy store without them knowing?” Ron brought up a big concern to his friend’s sister’s boyfriend while they look at Agnes and Edith jumping around in excitement.

“Can we go inside the store now, PLEASE!!!” the 2 younger girls pleaded, puppy dog eyes widen to get some sympathy.

“Do we have a choice?” Ron asked Mari.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ron, I didn’t expect a candy store detour either, but… I didn’t want the girls to feel deprived of something they really want so much,” Mari mused on the thoughts before making her decision, “We can check out those candy canes Philip’s being talking about.”

“WHA-” Ron’s shock was cut off by a concerned Margo who then told him to bear with her sisters’ eagerness and Philip’s curiosity for a while, to which he reluctantly agreed.

The candy store is not heavily packed of customers when they got inside and the candy display is filled to the brim with all sorts of candies: lollipops, gummi candies, gum drops, candy tapes, and, the candy of the day, candy canes. Ron’s thoughts soon turned from worry to amazement as the contents inside are starting to remind him of the Honeydukes candy shop back in Hogsmeade, temptation is creeping upon him but he is smart enough not to let animal instinct to go nuts in a candy store. One of the staff, a store clerk, running the store saw them coming in along with a few more customers from outside and had offered them candy canes, chopped into bite sized pieces, for any customer to try out. The pieces range in color and flavor, but who knows what the latter would taste like unless you try it yourself. People soon grabbed some of the pieces and popped in their mouths, trying to savor them as humanely as possible, though some people aren’t so lucky in picking the flavors in hindsight.

Mari randomly popped in a yellow/white stripped piece which she though would be lemon, but it turns out to be Mac and Cheese, which is interesting in the mouth but not pleasant enough in candy form for the picky librarian. Ron had his eyes closed and doubt in his mind as he picked up a green and white colored candy cane piece and tasted it, only to gag on it a few seconds in and realized from the store clerk’s speedy answer that he had gotten pickle flavored candy cane. Shocked to discovered that his beloved Mari and Ron weren’t so lucky, Philip absentmindedly selected a gray black/white striped candy cane piece and, the minute he popped it into his mouth, he was horrified to discover that he had eaten a coal flavored candy cane.

“Oh dear Lord, what kind of blasphemy is this?” he gagged in between words as he raced to get water in the store.

“Well bloody hell! I didn’t expect pickles to be a thing in normal candies lately,” Ron gasped while trying to erase his mind of the dreadful pickle candy cane.

“It seems that my luck at the mac n cheese candy cane seems to look sane so far,” Mari nodded back as she turned to Margo, “Hey Margo, what’s that candy cane piece you have going to taste like?”

“Hopefully it doesn’t taste like soap,” the eldest Gru sister sighed, holding onto a brown and beige piece of candy cane before she dropped it into her mouth then began to grimace at the taste of it, “Hmm… Tastes so bitter and so unpleasant… Huh?!? I got Coffee! Dad & Mom wouldn’t ever give me, Edith, and Agnes that as long as we all live.”

“What the-” Mari was panicking at the words her cousin spoke when Edith grabbed onto some light green candy cane pieces.

“Eh, they’re just candy, guys! Besides, how bad those green things I have now can be?” she innocently asked everyone as she tossed the candy pieces onto her mouth before her face started to cringe at the first taste and began to pant her tongue much faster than a dehydrated dog and began to scream in horror.

“Edith!” Margo cried as she did her best to comfort her sister in that dire moment when Mari picked up a box that featured the candy canes in the same color scheme as the ones Edith tasted and made a terrifying discovery, “It turns out Edith took some wasabi candy cane pieces without knowing that too much wasabi can mess up your tongue and taste buds.”

“Unbelievable!” Philip’s eyes widen in shock while drinking up the water from the water dispenser in the store and giving one more cup of water for Edith to drink from, “She didn’t even took a second look to be sure?”

But before anyone can give a conclusive answer, the most awkward and scariest of them all came when Agnes unsuspectingly took in some piece of chopped candy canes in a dazzling array of white, red, and green; it seems to look seasonal enough, right? Turns out that this was a bad idea in the end when her face slowly turned tomato red and began to cry profusely with tears running down her eyes. Margo was shocked that little Aggie had unwittingly eaten something her little body isn’t ready to feast on yet, so she and Edith (after recovering from her wasabi candy cane nightmare) ran up to her and did their best to calm her and make sure that everything will be fine.

Mari, after being given the location of the water dispenser from Philip, headed for the said water dispenser, took a cup, filled it with water, and ran back to Agnes who took the cup from her and began to drink all the water very fast with no second thoughts. Once Agnes finally regained control of herself, everyone had a sigh of relief, though this whole candy cane tasting shenanigans did taught everyone in the store.

“You know something?” Mari spoke to her friends as they left the candy store, still dazed from the events that had transpired there, “Sometimes, you can’t always successfully re-invent the wheel and expect great success from it. And candy flavors are no exceptions.”

“I agree, Mari,” Ron noted it, “They’re just like Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans back home, you never know what kind of flavor your mouth is going to get until it goes inside, and the results can be very weird.”

“Absolutely on point, Ronald,” Philip nodded back, “I still don’t understand why some of those people thought it was a good idea to experiment with those kinds of flavors, even if they’re not that bad with the actual food they’re based on.”

“Well, Philip, that’s the crazy world of modern candy making to you,” Margo sighed, “Sometimes, it’s best to stick with the classics, especially during the holidays.”

The End

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mldrgrl · 6 years ago

Text

What it Feels Like For a Girl

by: mldrgrl Rating: NC-17 Summary: I had several Anons, and one non-Anon, requesting a body swapping story where instead of Morris Fletcher and Mulder swapping bodies in Dreamland, it’s Mulder and Scully. So, here’s the result. Mulder and Scully swap bodies at a very inopportune time. (Or very opportune, depending on how you look at it). Note: I’m going to be honest here and say, I don’t think this is a concept that works well on paper. A visual medium serves this thing a lot better. Oh, well. A big thank you to @kateyes224 for being the first to get through it :D

As the blinding light in the sky hovers closer, Mulder takes hold of my wrist and squeezes. I can’t see past the light, now shining directly into my eyes so strongly that I have to put my hand in front of my face because squinting doesn’t cut it.

There’s a flash and a moment of equally blinding darkness where it takes a moment for my sight to recover itself. Morris Fletcher still stands grimly before us, flanked by military personnel who look a little too trigger happy for my taste.

“Come on, Mulder,” I say, but the strange thing is, I don’t hear my voice, I hear his. When I look to my right, he’s not there. When I look down, he’s still gripping my wrist, except I feel like I’m the one doing the holding. And then I’m looking into my own startled eyes.

“What the fu-?” she says, right about the time I’m blurting out “oh my God.”

“Mulder?” I whisper.

“Scully?”

We’re both interrupted by an impatient Fletcher, barking at us that we are trespassing on government property. She...he looks annoyed, clearly about to make an ill-advised retort and I shake my head at him.

“Come on,” I say, tugging on the sleeve of my own jacket. “Let’s just go.”

There’s an awkward moment of confusion as we move to the car, heading to our usual sides. Mulder stumbles over his feet and then tip-toes towards the driver’s door with miniscule, shuffling steps.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss at him.

“I can’t walk in these shoes!” he hisses back.

I don’t fit into the passenger side. I’ve never not fit into any space ever. But, here I am, knees folded up and knocking into the glove compartment. He’s not faring much better, unable to reach the pedals and clearly distressed about it.

“Maybe we should switch?” I suggest.

“Not until we get out of here and find out what the hell is going on. How do you...Jesus, I can’t reach anything!”

This is surreal. Whatever’s happening feels like a nightmare or a bad acid trip. I keep pinching the skin on my wrist trying to snap out of whatever this is, but it’s not working. Out of curiosity, I reach up and touch my face, feel my fingers scrape across the five o’clock shadow dusting my cheeks. This can’t be happening. This can’t possibly be happening.

*****

We don’t talk much on the way to our motel. I can’t speak for Mulder...well, actually, I am speaking for Mulder, currently, but I think it’s just too damn weird to try to talk to each other and hear someone else speaking. It’s jarring. We do agree on one thing though, and that’s the fact that we need to get back to DC as soon as possible.

Actually, we agree on two things. We get back to DC as soon a possible, and we don’t tell anyone about this until we know for sure what’s going on. To that end, I book a red eye out of Santa Fe and Mulder hastily packs up our motel rooms.

“Don’t you have any flats?” he whines, digging through my duffel bag.

“At home.”

“I feel like I’m going to break an ankle.” He takes tentative steps across the motel room, trips twice, and nearly takes a header into the wall, but I happen to catch him.

“You hurt me, I’ll kill you.”

He stands there wobbling like a baby giraffe. I’m afraid if I laugh at him he’ll think I’m enjoying this situation. Trust me, I’m not. Of all the messes he’s gotten us into, this one surely takes the cake. So, I just stand there, with my arms crossed, watching Mulder hobble back and forth until he can assure us both he isn’t going to fall on his ass in a pair of two-inch heels.

The flight home is the most uncomfortable flight I have ever been on. I prefer a window seat when I fly normally, but my whole body feels too long to fit anywhere but the aisle. Mulder, on the other hand, looks almost pleased with himself and leans back in the seat and stretches.

“This is great,” he says. “I’ve never had so much room before.”

As soon as I get my own body back, I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Using lots of torture.

Maybe it’s crankiness from the unbearable cross-country journey, or the awkwardness of being in someone else’s body, but as soon as the flight lands, I have the compulsory need to be as far away from him as possible. It’s so hard to look at him and see myself, but to know it isn’t me.

“I think we need to stick together,” he says to me as we head to the taxi line. “Just stay by each other’s sides until we come up with a way of fixing this.”

There’s a moment where he starts to put his hand on the small of my back out of habit, but his usual aim is thrown off by our change in height and instead lands directly on my ass. I jump.

“Mulder!”

“Wha-oh! Sorry.”

“Be careful.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well how would you like it if I smacked your a...nevermind. Have you come up with any solutions?”

“No. You?”

“None. I do think we need to behave as normal though. Go about our days like nothing unusual has happened.”

“Days?”

“We don’t know how long this is going to last, Mulder. Hours, days, weeks-”

“Don’t say months.”

“Years.”

“Years,” he barks.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper, bending so our heads are closer together. I don’t think I’ve ever had to bend down to speak to anyone in my life. Why do I have to be so short and why does he have to be so tall? It’s a wonder neither of us has suffered a neck sprain in the past six years.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“I am far from calm, but I’m not going to freak out in a taxi line.”

“Well, then what do you want to do?”

“It’s Saturday. We go home. We think on it. We come in on Monday, go over our ideas, and hopefully, one of us will have thought of something brilliant.”

“You want to split up?”

“I want to think. Which means, I don’t want to be distracted and I don’t want to get dragged into any other of your crazy schemes until I’ve had the chance to process this.” There’s a taxi approaching and we’re next in line, so I do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for Mulder. He reluctantly slides into the back seat and I hand over my duffel bag to him.

“Oh, and Mulder,” I say, just before I close to door. “Do not, under any circumstances, get me into any trouble. Just remember, I already shot you once.”

“Scully, I really think-”

I slam the door to cut him off. I just want to get home and come up with a solution.

*****

I am well and truly exhausted by the time I get to Mulder’s apartment, my home sweet home for the next...however long it takes to fix this mess. I want nothing more than to lay down, take a nap, and hope I’ve dreamed up something truly amazing by the time I wake up. What I didn’t count on was the fact that Mulder really and truly didn’t have a bed.

All these years, I really thought he’d been joking when he said he never got around to buying a bed since he preferred his couch anyway. He referred to his bedroom as the storage closet, and though I have glanced into it a time or two, all I saw were boxes. Surely there must be a bed hidden under there somewhere, so I thought. Well, I was wrong.

I almost called Mulder to berate him right then and there, first for getting us into this mess, second for not living like a proper adult, but what would that really solve? I’d still be without a bed for the foreseeable future. So, I did what a normal human being would do and I looked up the nearest mattress store in the Yellow Pages and drove down. I probably spent an hour trying them all out, found one I liked, and with the swipe of Mulder’s credit card conveniently located in the wallet in my back pocket, bought him a mattress and bedframe that would be delivered bright and early tomorrow morning. One night on the couch probably wouldn’t kill me.

With that done, I went to the mall and bought some sheets and pillows for the new bed and then on to the grocery store for food. I’ve seen the science experiments growing in Mulder’s fridge and, though I’m pro-science experiment, I’m anti-eating them. It also occured to me, once I got back and fixed myself a nice salad, I had better clear out all that junk in the storage closet so the bed would have a place to go.

In the midst of packing boxes and cleaning, I used the time to think. I don’t know though, something about being in Mulder’s body must have affected my brain, because the only ideas I could come up with were ones that he would’ve thrown at me. We could see a psychic. We could hold a seance. We could try time travel.

By the time I’m finished turning the bedroom into an actual bedroom, it’s past dinner time, and I do the most Mulder thing I can do. I order a pizza and sprawl out on the couch in front of a movie.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I’m boring you with all this stupid, mundane crap when you must be thinking oh my God, you’re in an entirely different body, why haven’t you inspected it from head to toe and tried out all the...new body features. Well, look, I am curious beyond belief about what it’s really like to be a man, but I’m going to have to look Mulder in the eye again and I don’t know if I can satisfy a curiosity and still maintain a professional relationship after that. There are boundaries.

But, fine, I may have changed into a nice pair of jeans and a sweater within the full length view of a mirror, not that I was looking, but I think the few glimpses I caught will allow me to keep my integrity intact. I mean, and I did have to shower, so that was interesting. I didn’t attempt to shave, but I will compliment Mulder on the body wash he uses. It was very nice and I might try to find some with a more feminine smell when things are back to normal.

The only real challenge I run into is how to use the bathroom. It’s one thing to check out Mulder’s body, but another thing to touch certain parts that need to be touched, I assume, when one uses the bathroom. I mean, I didn’t know what would happen. Do I just stay still and hope it aims itself, or what if once I start it’s like an out of control fire hose situation? I know it’s not very manly, but I opt to sit down to pee. Mulder doesn’t have to know.

*****

It’s late I think, at least past 10pm, and I’m dozing on the couch when my cell phone rings. “Scully,” I mumble out of habit. “Um, I mean Mul-”

“Scully, it’s me.” There’s an edge to his (my?) voice that doesn’t sound good.

“Mulder?”

“You don’t...you don’t happen to feel like you’re dying, do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh God,” he moans. “Scully...something’s wrong.”

“Mulder?”

“Something is really, really wrong.”

“Mulder, I’ll be right there. Don’t move.”

I’m off the couch in an instant, thankful for my suddenly longer legs that get me out of the apartment and down the block to Mulder’s car in what feels like two minutes flat. I’m also grateful that I gave him a key a few years back and I use it to enter my apartment about fifteen minutes later. All the lights are off. I call out to him and he answers from the bedroom.

I find him curled up on the bed, still wearing the same pantsuit I threw on before accompanying him on that wild goose chase to New Mexico. There’s just enough light filtering in from the street lamps outside to highlight the anguish on his face. Let me tell you, it’s a little disconcerting to see yourself in pain. I crawl onto the bed and put my hand on his forehead, but he’s cool as a cucumber.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You don’t feel it?” he answers, lifting his eyes up to me.

“Feel what, Mulder?”

He bursts into tears and rolls away from me. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Tell you what?”

“I thought it must be an effect of whatever this thing is that’s going on, but if it’s just me and it’s not you, then it can’t be and it hurts so much. Scully, why didn’t you tell me the cancer was back?”

“What?” If I wasn’t panicked before, I certainly am now. “What the hell are you talking about, Mulder?”

“Your body is dying, I can feel it. I’m dying.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything! Everything, God, my head is...and there’s this pain in my back - I think it’s the kidneys. Scully, I think your kidneys are going to explode. And then the light was too bright and I feel sick and then like right here…” He presses a hand to his hip, a little lower and off center from his abdomen. “It’s like...I don’t even know. Something is happening right there, something bad.”

It dawns on my almost immediately and I do some quick math and think about the date. If it wasn’t so tragic, I’d laugh.

“Mulder, you’re not dying.”

“Do you think it’s appendicitis?”

“It’s not appendicitis either. You’re PMSing.”

“I’m what?”

“You’ll be starting your period tomorrow.”

There’s a monumental silence that follows as he stares at me, silent tears trickling down his cheeks. And then he gasps loudly and starts weeping.

“Why am I crying!” he chokes out.

“Hormones.”

“What am I going to do?”

I try not to roll my eyes. “You’re going to do what every woman since the dawn of time has done, you’re just going to deal with it.”

“But, I have no idea what to do with...the things and the...you know…”

Yes, I do know. And a few moments ago I’ll admit I was feeling a little smug about Mulder having to getting to experience what it’s really like to be a woman, but he’s got to experience that in my body, which means…hoo boy. And of course he’s not going to know how to handle the finer details of a menstrual cycle, which means it’s going to be up to me to show him. What other alternative is there?

I’m never going to New Mexico with him again. In fact, I’m never going anywhere with him again. This is all his fault. If not for his stupid, wild goose chase, Mulder wouldn’t have cramps and I wouldn’t be on the verge of showing him how to use a tampon. Jesus, but there’s another even more embarrassing conversation we’re going to have to have in a minute and it’s going to make the rest of it seem like a picnic.

“Alright, Mulder, I have medication I’m going to get for you,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He wipes his eyes with the backs of his hands and I slip off the bed.

I grab the prescription bottle from the medicine cabinet and fill the water glass on my sink. I consider for a moment just leaving it as this - giving him the pills and walking away - but, I can see him behind me in the mirror, doubled up on the bed, probably praying for swift and sweet relief and I know all too well what it’s like and how it feels to just want someone, anyone to come take care of me when it’s as bad as this. So, I have to bite the bullet and get him through this the best that I can because in a way, I’m doing this for myself.

“Take these,” I say, handing him two pills and the glass of water when I return to the bedroom. He sits up, just enough to swallow them down and grimaces as he tries to lay down again onto his back. I put the bill bottle and the glass on the nightstand and stare at the top drawer for a few moments before I sit beside him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, shutting his eyes. That’s good. It might be easier to talk to him if he’s not looking at me.

“Mulder…”

He sort of grunts-slash-whimpers in response. I reach over to gently untuck his shirt from his slacks. “Why haven’t you changed?” I ask. “I’ve-you’ve been in this suit for two days.”

“I didn’t feel right about it.”

I unbutton the top button on the slacks and rest my hand low on the bare skin of his abdomen. I press down, slowly increasing the pressure.

“Oh,” he breathes with a sigh. “Your hand is warm. Oh, that’s nice.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand on my wrist like he’s afraid I’ll move away.

“You need to get undressed,” I whisper to him, making a gentle circular motion with my hand. “You need to get more comfortable.”

He doesn’t move, although he gives a tiny shake of his head and his brow furrows slightly. He grips my wrist a little harder. “I’m good here.”

“Come on,” I tease. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“It isn’t right.”

“You have my permission, Mulder, if that’s what you need so we can deal with this.”

It’s an interesting thing to watch Mulder’s expressions of struggle play out on my face. I can see him even if I’m looking into my own eyes. It’s bizarre. But, then again, I’ve always said I could read his face as easily as I read my own. I just never imagined for it to be so literal.

“How about this?” I say. “You’re the only one that can take care of my body right now and I need you to do what I ask of you because you’ll get sick if you don’t. I trust you.”

That seems to do the trick. He nods a little, but still clutches my wrist.

“I was wrong when I said we should go about our days like everything is fine. You were right, we need to stick together on this, so I’m not going anywhere. I’ll get you through this, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“What’s going to happen right now is, I’m going to go into the other room. You’re going to get undressed. You’re going to open the top drawer of my nightstand and you’re going to take out the blue velvet drawstring bag.” I pause. “Um, I’m sure you’ll figure it out from there. And when you’re doing, take a nice hot bath and go to bed. As for tomorrow...we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mulder stutters, taking a vice-grip on my arm. “Are you asking...no. No, no, no.”

“It’s okay. You just need to do this and...it helps. I promise.”

“No way. For one thing I’m not...and for another it’s...no, Scully, I can’t.”

“Listen, the medication alone isn’t going to solve everything. I’ve learned over the course of dealing with this for the last 20 years, so you’re going to have to true me.”

“I do trust you, Scully, but I’m not...I’m not you.”

“You do know how to bring a woman to or-”

“Yes! Yes, but that’s different. And it’s...it’s what you said before, this is your body.”

“Which you’re currently occupying. If you think I’m not dying a little of mortification right now that I have to explain all of this to you right now, you’d be wrong. But, I’m telling you, from personal experience, that an orgasm increases the blood flow to the uterus and contracts the muscles, which will ease the cramps you’re having now. It also releases dopamine and endorphins, which are going to make the migraine you’ve got building up to go away and will let you sleep. So, there’s a really nice, really expensive, very trustworthy vibrator in that drawer and if you just...tonight is going to be a lot easier for you to handle if you do what I tell you to.”

“No.”

“Mulder!” God, but his stubbornness is exasperating.

“You do it.”

“I can’t do it. You’re me and I’m you.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, so-”

“You know what to do. You do the thing with the...thing. That way you’re the one taking care of things.”

Oh my God. “Well, that’s not really…”

“See. You can’t tell me it’s okay for me, but not for you, if your argument is you’re me and I’m you.”

“I mean, that is the argument, but then if I’m involved, it would really be you that’s involved because I’m you and you’re me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, it’s the exact same argument for why you should versus why you shouldn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry, this is the first time I’ve been in someone else’s body and I don’t really know what’s okay and what isn’t!”

“Scully, I can definitely tell you it’s not okay to ask me to masterbate in your stead because I don’t even think it would technically count as masturbation since I’m not you. So, if you want this body to get off, you’re going to have to be the one to get it off because it’s your body, not mine.”

I realize this argument has gotten a little out of hand and though we’re not quite shouting, it’s louder than it probably should be. I take it back down to a decent level. “Alright,” I say. “I see your point.”

“Good. So, I’ll go ahead and take that hot bath if you get a swimsuit for me and as for-”

“I mean, alright, Mulder.” I know this is insane, but I really do see his point. I also know that if he’s up all night in pain, if he doesn’t get any sleep, if he can’t shake that headache or the cramps, it’s only going to get worse from here. He’s leaving me no choice.

“You mean...wait, I don’t know if…”

“We both agree. It’s my body, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” First thing’s first, we need to get him undressed. Maybe what I need to do is stop thinking about him as Mulder, but as me. We need to get me undressed. “Sit up,” I say.

He does as I ask with quite a bit of hesitation and doesn’t look at me. But then, he lifts his eyes and I sit back as the air leaves my lungs. He’s reclined slightly, hands pressed back behind his hips, a little flushed, hair mussed, smudges of mascara under his eyes, and I have this moment of complete awe. He looks...I look beautiful. It tightens my chest and sends a flutter to my gut.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

Christ, Mulder, I think. I want you to stop looking at me like that. There’s fear there, but also trust, and expectation, like I have all the answers to all the questions in the world. It’s making me feel flustered and incompetent. Is this why Mulder always stutters when we argue?

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks in embarrassment.

“You are, you know. I mean, you say that like you have no idea.”

“Okay, maybe this really wasn’t-”

“Scully.” He puts his hand on my cheek and it feels soft and delicate, but it feels like Mulder.

“Take your shirt off.”

His hand slides away slowly and then he pulls at his shirt from the back of the neck, typical man. I stop him before he can stretch it out and break any threads in the collar. I happen to really like that shirt. I take it up from the bottom and he lifts his arms to help draw it off. He blinks a few times. I have to lean into him to reach around and unhook his bra. Surprisingly, I fumble slightly, unaccustomed to the length of my own fingers.

“You smell like me,” he says, and I can feel his breath against my neck. It raises the hairs on my arms and stirs my groin. Oh God.

“I had a shower,” I answer, pulling back.

“Oh yeah? How did that go?”

“Nothing to say about it.”

“Did you look?”

“Look at what?”

“It’s okay if you did.”

“Mulder, I’m a doctor.”

“Hm.” He studies my face for a moment and then lays back and closes his eyes.

I lay down as well, on my side, propped up on an elbow, and put my hand on his chest, palm between his breasts and fingers splayed. My chest, I remember. My breasts. I start with a soft caress, knowing how sensitive and achy my chest would be right now.

“I should tell you,” he says, cracking one eye open a little and shifting his gaze down to my waist. “Sometimes...he’s got a mind of his own. I don’t know if anything will happen, but right now my hand is on a beautiful woman’s breast, so you might want to start thinking of Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus?”

“I don’t know why, but it helps.

“Okay, thanks for the warning.”

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. My hand rises and falls with his chest and I pick up where I left off, this time slowly sliding the back of my hand around the curve of his right breast. His mouth opens a little and he takes another deep breath. I take my thumb and circle over and around the nipple, gentle enough so that it’s hardly a touch at all. He bites into his bottom lip and scratches at the bedclothes.

It feels like there’s electricity in the room, humming between our bodies. I’ll blame it on the charge and say that it’s what compels me to lean over and kiss his neck. I know the spot to hit, just below the ear and at the edge of the hairline. For whatever reason, it’s always made me light up like a Christmas tree. He whimpers, and one knee bends up ever so slightly and then slides back down, but his brow furrows like he’s in pain.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?” he squeaks, and then clears his throat. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

It takes a few seconds to answer and he shifts his hips. “Um, I think so.”

“Open your eyes for me.”

He blinks rapidly and then holds his eyes open to mine. They’re wide and dark, but when I sweep the back of my hand down along his side, they droop almost sleepily. It’s encouraging and I move on, bending my neck to place my lips against the top swell of his breast, with gentle suction, just how I like it. His knee slides up again, higher this time, and bumps the side of my hip. Without thinking, I catch his leg, hand wrapped around the inner thigh, and hold it there, slightly open, as I work my mouth down and across his chest.

He breathes my name and his fingers suddenly slide into my hair, first one hand and then the other. Damn, but it feels good. I’ve always loved the soothing act of having my hair washed at a salon, but it’s incomparable to having nails scratching at your scalp and thumbs skimming your nape. It’s like I can feel it in the roots of my hair down to my toes.

Before I know it, I’m looming over him like it’s a natural move to make. I know at this stage when I’m with a man, I’d be pulling him into that perfect cradle between my thighs where they fit so nicely, but the compulsion for me right now is to slide into that space myself. As I sink down, I’m conscious of what the weight of a man is like, pressing you down, making you feel more delicate than you are at times. And I’m conscious of just how much larger I feel. The body under mine, my body, feels vulnerable, and I have the urge to protect it, to treat it carefully, and by extension, to protect Mulder, treat him carefully as well.

“Is this alright?” I ask.

“Mmhm,” he says, shifting beneath me. His bent legs are pressed to my hips and his hands move to my shoulders and then I begin to waver.

I’ll be completely honest here, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t engage in any foreplay when I’m by myself, mostly because I don’t need to, but even if I know the ins and outs of my body, I don’t know what it feels like for Mulder right now. I know what I’m feeling like in his body, and all the images of a fat, bearded man in a red suit that I’m trying to conjure up are no match for what’s happening to me.

It’s insane, I know, but this has got to be the single most erotic thing that’s ever happened in my life. And I also I know that the brain is a powerful organ, but it’s a mind-bending concept to be able to touch yourself with someone else’s hands and not recognize your own body. As it happened, I had to wonder, has my breast always felt this soft and heavy, or is that just how it feels in Mulder’s hand? Has my abdomen always felt so smooth? Has my hip always curved so invitingly?

And I’ll be damned if the ache of arousal is any different now than when I’m in my own body. The pressure is the same, if not a little lower in the pelvis. The heavy, swollen feeling between my legs is the same, but with a different consequence. And yet, I’m still overwhelmed with the urge to grind my hips into the bed, just as I would if I was myself.

I make a move to back up just a little lower, and oh my god, the friction and the pressure is both delicious and unbearable. I reflexively groan a little and Mulder opens his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” I breathe, recognizing the hoarseness in my voice as the same one I’d encountered on occasion from knocking on our connecting motel doors and being told ‘just a minute.’

I move up and off of Mulder to sit back on my heels. His eyes travel down to my lap and back up again when I unzip his pants. The pressure against my jeans is tipping past the border of pleasurable to painful. ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…

I grit my teeth, wiggling his pants off his hips and drawing them down his legs. I notice with a little bit of relief that even if he couldn’t manage to get undressed, he did at least remove my socks and shoes. All that he’s wearing now is navy blue panties, not the sexiest pair I own, but it could be worse.

Faced with this moment though, this turning point, I have to pause. He’s aroused, I can see it and I can smell it. I’m aroused, which is becoming more and more painfully obvious with each passing second. So, what do we do about it? Should we keep running from what I’m fairly certain we’ve both wanted for quite some time, or do we give in and experience something no one else on this planet has likely experienced before? Jump or turn back?

“Mulder, I...I asked you to take care of my body for me and I never...I should’ve asked if you want me to do the same.”

“You looked, didn’t you?”

“Of course I looked.”

“Did you like what you saw?”

“I want this. I want this if you want this, but I need your help.”

“You need a hand?” He smirks and reaches for the fly of my jeans.

“I want you to show me what you like and I want you to tell me how it feels for you.”

“Well, the first part’s easy. I like everything.” He sits up and pushes my open jeans off my hips, a little rougher than I would have, and takes the boxers down with it. Without any hesitance, he wraps a hand around my shaft, making a tight fist, and tugs up once, leading with the thumb to circle the head lightly.

“Holy mother of fuck,” I groan. His grip remains firm and his rhythm is steady. He twists his wrist just a little with every upwards jerk of his hand. It’s not the slow climb towards ecstasy I’m used to. There’s an immediate gratification that comes with it, but also no satisfaction. I want more, but it’s also too much. “Sss...stop…” I pant.

He releases me and I swear all the air leaves my lungs with a whoosh. I already want the feeling back. Instead, I lean over and kiss him. It’s not what I expect it to be and I’ll admit, I’m a little letdown, but I suppose that’s only because I’ve fantasized about being able to run my tongue over that pouty lower lip of his. We both pull away with as though the disappointment is mutual.

I’m overwhelmed by a feeling of bashfulness and as I look down and sit back, suddenly remember that I’m still fully clothed. Nervously, I take off my shirt and then I have to lay down to kick my shoes and pants off. And then I just lie there, fully naked, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

“Hey,” Mulder says, laying down beside me putting his chin on my shoulder. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I know we don’t. I want to though, it’s just…”

He takes my hand, twines our fingers together and then brings them to his chest. I can feel the swift thump of his heart which matches the beat of my own, quick and strong. I roll towards him so we’re face to face, nose to nose. He leans his forehead against mine.

“I wouldn’t do this with anyone but you,” I say.

“Me either.” He let’s go of my hand and reaches down to slide the panties off. “Is it weird that I keep thinking how much I want you inside me right now?”

I shake my head. “Not unless it’s weird that I keep thinking about how much I want to be inside you.”

“I want to know what it’s like to feel what you feel.”

“I do too.”

“How do you want to do this?”

“How about just like this?”

“Okay.”

But, neither of us really know how to start. We make some abbreviated movements towards bringing our bodies together, but fall short. Finally, I take his leg and pull it over my hip. I don’t know if I want to watch his face for this moment, or if I want to watch us. Ultimately, I settle on us and leave it up to Mulder to guide me inside.

We don’t magically come together like I’d imagined. There’s fumbling and just as I feel myself start to ease into his warm, wet folds, he let’s go and I slip away. He grips my shoulders, breathing hard, and I reach up to push away the hair that’s fallen in front of his face.

“You okay?” I ask.

“It’s different. Stings a little. I don’t want...I don’t want to hurt you somehow.”

“It’s just for a moment, I promise. You won’t hurt me. But, if it’s too much, or too soon, we can slow down.”

“What if I’m not ready? How would I know?”

At first I think he means emotionally, but it’s the follow up question that changes things. And since he has no first-hand experience, that’s true, how would he know? I reach down between his legs and dip my middle finger inside. He tenses and I can feel the resistance of his body.

“Relax,” I whisper to him.

“I’m trying.”

I understand his nervousness. I think back over my first few times during sex, when it felt like an invasion of my body, no matter how much I wanted it. I adjust my hand, pull my finger out slowly just a little, and then slide back in, curling it as I do. I must admit, having longer fingers makes hitting my target a lot easier. His mouth drops open with a sharp gasp and his hips push forward into mine.

“Good?” I ask.

“Uh huh.”

I do a bit of lazy exploration with my thumb, skimming indirectly over the sensitive little bud that’s going to ultimately make Mulder’s toes curl, before I bring it out of hiding. He moans and pulls my hip closer with his thigh.

“You have to tell me,” I say.

“It’s so fleeting. I don’t know.”

I slow down and make exaggerated circles with my thumb, increasing the pressure and tightness of the motion little by little. I know when I’ve got it just right when his hips roll forward, but then he jerks back and my hand slips free.

“Oh, that was…” his breath hitches.

“It’s okay. Move with it, not away from it.”

We start over from the beginning, but quickly find our way back to before. My hand cramps a lot quicker than usual, but quitting isn’t an option. Fortunately, he’s learned quickly how to match the rhythm of my hand with his hips. There’s just one more thing I think he needs for me to get him there.

“I want you to try to squeeze my finger,” I say.

“What?” he breathes.

“Think about those muscles down there, and try to squeeze.”

His inner thighs tighten against my hand.

“Not the legs. Inside. You can do it, you just have to concentrate on it.”

A determined look comes over his face and I slow just enough to make him want it that much more. “Oh, don’t stop,” he says, just as I feel the slightest bit of pressure against my finger.

“I’m not.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop. Oh, Scully, that’s...oh…”

He tenses and rocks forward. His nails dig into my shoulder and it sends a jolt of desire straight down my own body. The heavy ache I felt earlier is becoming tight and painful again. I slip my hand out of Mulder and wrap it around my shaft, just as he’d done earlier. There is a need in my gut like being thirsty with a glass of water just out of reach.

“I need you,” I murmur. “Mulder, please.”

“I need you too.”

With less fumbling this time around, I manage to push guide myself inside. And oh my god, to be enveloped by the heat and the wetness and the tight grip of his body is just...oh my god. But, Mulder is whimpering, making a short little gasps in the back of his throat and I stop halfway in and hold onto him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he breathes. “Nothing, this is just...it feels so...it’s so different.”

“You feel amazing.”

“More. I want more.”

“Are you sure?”

“All of it. I want to feel all of you. Please.”

I push deeper, until our hips meet, and then I stop and relish the moment. Our bellies press together, our thighs are twined, our chests expand together with every breath and I actually don’t know where I start and end any longer. When I move, he moves. When I put my arm around him, he puts his arm around me.

The pleasure sensation is different, more acute, more like tingling pressure. It drives my hips forward. The rapid beat of my heart matches the quick pulse between my legs. Blood rushes through my veins, heats my chest, swells in my groin. I have the urge to move faster, but this position has me restrained.

I stop, only long enough to roll Mulder onto his back and press up on my knees. The new position forces Mulder’s legs wide apart and I take his right leg and drape it over my shoulder. He grips my ass impatiently and I slam my hips back into his, grinding down a little with my public bone this time.

“Oh my god,” he cries out. At least, that’s what I think he says. It’s one long exhale and a groan, but that’s what it sounds like.

I have to agree though. Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod. Everything below my pelvis starts to tighten. This must be it. I can feel the release is imminent. And Mulder’s got that pinched-brow expression of deep concentration again. I can feel him. I can feel him pulling me deeper, squeezing me tighter, and my eyes start to roll back in my head.

“Oh god, oh god.” I’m not sure who yells it, but I know I feel like a bottle of champagne that’s just been uncorked. All the pressure that’s been rising up explodes into stars behind my eyes. The force of it is so strong that I can’t breathe. I can only groan and quiver. Beneath me, Mulder is also moaning softly. The heel of his left foot digs softly into my ass.

I’m on the verge of collapse and muster up enough strength to pull his leg from my shoulder and turn onto my side. I want to weep when I feel our bodies disconnect. I reach for him just as he reaches for me and we twine together again, a lot stickier and sweatier than before.

“Wow,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t move.”

“Me neither.”

“You were right about the orgasm thing though. It’s like the cramps never happened.”

I chuckle a little. “That’s good.”

“And, like, Scully...twice? In a row? It’s not even like a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of way either, those are just...wow.”

“It’s not always like that.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He stares up at the ceiling and considers this. “Does that mean I should be flattered, or should you?”

I laugh and shrug a little. Mulder presses his cheek to my arm and sighs. Laying here like this doesn’t feel that strange at all.

“Do I still need that hot bath?” he asks.

“You should. Even if it’s just to clean up.”

“You want to join me?”

“Yeah. Sure. I might need a minute.”

“Should’ve warned you. Sex makes me sleepy.”

“Not me.” I yawn.

“I’ll go get the bath ready.”

“Okay.”

“Scully, about tomorrow.”

“Heating pad, Advil, and you’ll get to learn how to use a tampon. Wait, there was a short in the wire of my heating pad. I had to throw it out. We’ll think of something.”

“Yes, I can’t wait, it’s going to be great.”

I chuckle again, this time with my face pressed to the mattress and my eyes closed.

“But,” he says. “What I mean is, what happens tomorrow? Where do we go from here?”

“First we figure out how to get things back to normal. And then...and then we’ll see.”

“Okay, I’ll go run the bath.”

“Okay.”

*****

I wake up with the sun on my cheek, a soreness in my thighs, and a twinge in my abdomen. I pick my head up and turn it to the other side. The bed is empty.

“Mulder?” I sit up and look at my hands. My hands. I’m wearing a pair of flannel pajamas I don’t remember putting on.

I get out of bed and walk through my empty apartment. Something feels off. I feel like I’m in a dream or I’ve just woken from one. And where is Mulder? But, wait, why would Mulder be here?

I return to the bedroom and stare at my bed. I can feel flashes of my dream or a memory bubbling up to the forefront of my mind, but they’re also not quite clear. I’m making love with Mulder, but my body isn’t my own. I am Mulder. My cheeks flush. How strange.

My thighs though. They’re sore and ache in only the way my thighs will ache after a night of passion. Why would I wake up with Mulder’s name on my lips? I pick up the pillow next to mine. It smells like him. It smells like us.

I find my cell phone in my duffle bag by the front door. I remember packing a bag to go to New Mexico with Mulder, but almost nothing after that. I call his cell, pacing in front of my table as it rings.

“Mulder,” he answers.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

“Hey, Scully.”

“Mulder, were you…?”

“Was I what?”

How do I ask him if he was here last night? How do I ask him if this blurry image of the two of us in my head is real? And if it is, well why did he leave? It can’t be real. I’m just being ridiculous.

“Nevermind,” I say. “I think I had a weird dream or something.”

“Hang on, Scully, someone’s at the door.” I hear him open his door on the other end of the phone and a distant conversation. “A bed? I didn’t order a bed.”

I gasp and hang up. I ordered the bed. I remember. Oh my god.

*****

An hour later, Mulder shows up at my door and I open it, but I don’t move back to let him in. He sighs and leans his head against the jamb and then holds a gift bag out to me.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“It’s a heating pad.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Can I come in?”

I back up and let him through. He’s wearing what I wore yesterday, what he must have picked up off my bedroom floor this morning before he walked out.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I want to know why you left.”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “When I woke up this morning, I was a little disoriented. I didn’t know where I was or what happened. I thought at first that I might have been drugged - that we may have been drugged.”

“And then?”

“And then things started coming back to me in pieces. It was like deja vu at first, but then I remembered the lights in the sky and you being me and...the rest of it. And I remembered you telling me that you didn’t know what would happen after things were back to normal, and I was afraid that you would wake up and be embarrassed or regret what...or that you would shut me out and we’d never acknowledge it or speak of it again.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“I don’t remember everything. There’s parts that are clear and parts that aren’t. I do know that, for me, it was pretty incredible.”

“It was for me too.”

“Well, yeah.” He grins. “The only time I crash hard like that is when the sex is really good. I mean, like really really good. So…”

I feel my cheeks get hot and I look down at the gift bag in my hands. Some men bring women flowers. Mulder brings me a heating pad.

“You bought me a bed, huh?” he says.

I huff at my feet and nod slightly. He shuffles closer, takes the bag out of my hands and puts it on the table. I pluck at the blanket hanging off the back of the couch.

“Guess I was past due,” he says. “There is one thing I think we need to settle though.”

“What’s that?”

He cups my face and leans down. This time, I get to taste that bottom lip of his that I’ve always wanted. It’s even better than I dreamed.

The End

#xf fanfic #msr #i wrote this #humor #dreamland #there be sex here

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forever-rogue · 6 years ago

Text

Supercut - VIII

Summary: Roger didn’t know how good he had it when Y/N was his. But when Y/N became Deacy’s, he realized he had messed up.

A/N: Hey, hi, hello, it’s me, ya girl, back (finallllyyy) with another part of this saga! I’m sorry it’s taken me forever, but between studying, taking the bar, and getting really sick (still sick woo), I just ddn’t have time to dedicate to this, and I wanted to give you all something quality. So please enjoy! xx

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (former), John Deacon x Reader (current)

Warnings: infidelity, language

Word Count: 4.2k

Note - this is still in the past.

MASTERLIST

The First Time Roger Cheats

Playing with the napkin stretched delicately across her lap, Y/N cast an annoyed glance around the restaurant. The seat across from her was empty, utensils untouched, glass unfilled. Roger was late yet again.

She pondered how long she should wait for him before leaving. Glancing down at the ornate watch on her wrist, she realized it had already been nearing an hour. An hour of her sitting by herself and wondering if he would show up.

“Miss?” she was pulled out of her own thoughts as looked up and met the sympathetic gaze of the waiter. He looked nervous, probably hoping she wouldn’t snap at him. She forced a smile onto her face, “are you ready to order? Or still waiting?”

“I think I’m just going to go. It appears there’s been some sort of mistake,” she tossed the napkin onto the table, watching it plop there sadly, “I’m sorry for wasting your time. Do I owe you anything?”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. I hope your evening gets better,” he gave her a small smile, and she just nodded; she hated when people pitied her. Keeping her head down, Y/N ducked out of the restaurant quickly, praying that no one saw the tears falling from her eyes.

It was probably silly to be so upset over something so trivial in the grand scheme of life, but it still stung. Roger had promised her he’d be there.

This wasn’t the first time he been date to one of their dates. Or the second. Or the third. She should have been used to it by now, but she always held up hope that he would change and make some sort of effort. It appeared that he never would.

Shrugging on her coat, she reached the nearest payphone. She wasn’t ready to go home and be alone and get too caught up in her own thoughts. It was a dark place sometimes, and not territory she wanted to enter on this dismissal evening. She knew exactly where she wanted to be.

Grabbing some spare change out of her pocket, she slipped the coins into the grimy old box, picking up the receiver gingerly. It had seen better days and she didn’t want to catch some weird disease on top of everything. She quickly dialed John’s number, gripping the cord tightly and hoping he was home.

Listening to the blaring ring for what seemed like an eternity, Y/N figured John must not have been home, and decided to abandon her efforts. Just before the receiver was put back into place, she heard a faint voice come through, “hello? Hello?”

“Deacy?” she asked quietly, hearing noise in the background. He wasn’t alone, “it’s Y/N.” “Hey! What’s up?” he asked before holding his hand over the receiver and shouting at someone in the background, “sorry about that. Bri and Freddie are over and they’re being right idiots. We’re playing Scrabble and drinking beers! They are going to get so crushed!”

“T-that sounds like fun,” she closed her eyes and imagined the three of them sitting around the table, all of them second guessing every questionable word, “I’m sorry I interrupted, I’ll let you go.”

“No, no, please don’t hang up! Why don’t you come over and join us?” he asked and her heart felt a little less heavy at his sweet words, “wait...aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Roger?”

“No,” she lied, biting her lip. If he wasn’t with her or with them, she wondered where he could be. Hopefully he’d just be crashed out at his place, drowsy with sleep, “that’s not tonight. I’ll be over soon then.”

“Perfect! I’ll get your spot ready and open a beer just for you,” he sounded so happy, and she felt like a lump was rising in her throat. She always ran to him when she needed help. But this time she couldn’t tell him, or Brian, or Freddie. Not when it was their other best friend involved, “see you soon, love bug.”

“See you soon,” she all but whispered. Hearing the click from his end, she followed suit, letting out a low sigh. Things were, and always had been, so easy with John. He lit up at the slightest sound of her voice, always smiling his signature gap toothed smile, his eyes crinkling in the corner. Sometimes she wondered is she had made a grave mistake. Maybe it should have been him all along.

Her hand perched on John’s door, she realized she probably should have gone home and changed first. They would surely ask questions when they saw her all dressed up, showing up for night in of scrabble. While she was musing if she should just run home quickly and change, the door opened and there stood John, waiting her intently.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed and threw his arms around her. She relaxed into his touch, feeling more comforted than she had in a long time, “we’re just getting ready to start a new round, what perfect timing!”

“You know I couldn’t resist a night with my best friends,” she stepped inside, immediately getting wrapped up by Freddie’s strong arms, “hello Fred, I see you’ve missed me.”

“It’s been too long-”

“It’s been five days-”

“Too long! Tell me, where has Roger been keeping you?” he chided her, taking her coat for her and ushering her into her usual spot. She bit her lip and just shrugged lightly, trying to play it coo, “is he not joining us? I dare say you’re dressed very exquisitely for a night of board games.”

“This old thing? It’s nothing, really. But, ugh, Roger’s not feeling well,” she tried to go with a simple lie and not give them all the sordid details. If she opened that floodgate, she’d be there for hours telling them about the all things that had happened between the two of them. All the missed dates, the long nights of arguments, all the little annoyances, “it’s just me. I hope that won’t put too much of a damper on your plans.”

“Huh,” Brian said as he handed her a beer, “he seemed okay earlier. I could have sworn he said something about you two going out this evening? La Rossa or something?”

“He must have been confused,” she could tell her voice was getting slightly higher as she lied, and tried to keep a straight face. It should have been so simple, she should have just told them everything, but couldn’t bring herself to do it, “it’s not tonight.”

“Y/N, is everything alright?” John asked gently, putting his hand on her knee and giving it a tight squeeze. It should have been him she thought to herself. She loved Roger though, and she knew that wasn’t a lie. Sometimes things got hard, but, by this point, she had convinced herself that Roger, and only Roger, was what she had wanted, “you can tell us anything.”

“Everything’s peachy, Deacy,” she reassured him, giving him a tight lipped smile. He could see right through her - he always knew when something was wrong. But he wasn’t going to push her on it. She would come to him when the time was right, “but thank you guys for letting me join. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Friday night than with you lot.”

“How did you even come up with that word!?” John stared incredulously at his curly haired best friend. Not only was it a double word score, but it was long, and therefore worth a ton of points. None of them would even have a chance of winning at this point, “are you hiding a dictionary under the table?”

Freddie quickly ducked his head under the table, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the lanky man’s lap. Brian just silently flipped him the bird, as Freddie chuckled, “I’m afraid he’s clean. Somehow he has all those words in stuffed in that big mop of curls.”

“Fine,” John huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Freddie and Y/N just chuckled as they glanced glances, while he murmured under his breath - something about Brian being a cheat and a liar.

“I hate to do this to you all, especially you, Bri, since you came up with that lovely word, but,” Y/N smirked as she slowly laid down her tiles. With each letter, the boys leaned in closer, watching with shocked faces as she topped Brian’s score, “I believe that is the new high score.”

“How are you both doing this?” John was exasperated now, throwing his hands in the air. She just gave him a smug smirk as she shrugged her shoulders innocently, “you’re all liars and cheats. This is the last time I’m playing with any of you. Except Freddie.”

“Do you hear that Bri? That’s the sound of-” she was about to say a sore loser but the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted her, “the phone. Deacy, who’s calling you at this time of night?”

“I dunno,” he answered as he stood up, grumbling as he walked over the phone on the kitchen wall. He paused for a moment, letting out an annoyed sigh before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Who is it?” Bri called over to him, watching as John’s face went through several expression changes ranging from annoyed, to concerned, and confused.

“It’s Rog,” he said quietly, covering the mouthpiece and giving Y/N a questioning look, “he’s wondering where you’re at. Do you want to talk to him?”

Y/N felt Freddie and Brian’s eyes glued to her as her brain raced a thousand miles minute, trying to figure out what to do. Should she said just talk to him? What would they say if she refused to answer? Biting her lip, she slowly shook her head, indicating a clear no. All she said quietly was “just tell him I’m here and hang up.”

“Everything’s fine, Rog. Yeah, it’s me, Bri, and Freddie. Yes, she’s been here this whole evening,” she could tell from his strained voice that Roger was probably fuming and giving Deacy a hard time over everything. He cringed as he held the receiver from his ear, Roger’s voice coming through but unclear, “yes, I’ll tell her. Goodnight, Rog.”

John set the phone down, hands on his hips as he came slowly made his way back to over to them. He sat down slowly, letting out a long breath as he turned to Y/N, “what’s going on, Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” she asked quietly, focusing her attention on the remaining tiles in front of her. Brian and Freddie exchanged a few nervous glances.

“Roger just said he’d been trying to ring you for hours. And you weren’t at your apartment,” John sighed as he ran a hand through his short hair, “you said earlier that he wasn’t feeling well. But he made it seem like you had plans. Two very conflicting stories.”

“Darling, is everything okay?” Freddie was gentle as he put his arm around her, trying to pull her into a hug. She flinched out of his touch as she stood up, putting a hand nervously to her face, “Y/N?”

“Everything’s fine, I swear,” in her mind she said it in a reassuring tone, but out loud it sounded sad and tiny. John stood up, putting his strong hands on her shoulders, attempting to calm her down, “it’s just a bit of a misunderstanding. I should go.”

“Or you could stay a little longer,” his voice was low and warm, making her feel the tiniest bit better, “you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

“I should though,” she insisted, giving him a half smile, “everything’s fine, don’t worry so much, Deacy. I’ll see you later. I had a good time with you three. Thank you.”

“If you need anything, just call us. We’re always here for you,” Brian gave her a small wave as she grabbed her jacket off the couch and quickly headed. Just before she closed the door, she gave the boys one last sad smile, not letting them get another word in.

Y/N grabbed her keys out of her purse, fumbling to find the right one for her door as usual. Before she could even reach for the door handle, she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of Roger sitting in front of her door.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming, pretty girl,” Roger said as he looked her up and down. He noted that she was dressed very nicely for what was seemingly a night in with the boys, “I’ve been here for over an hour.”

“Yeah? Well, I was sat, waiting for you in that restaurant for almost an hour,” she crossed her arms over chest. Two could play that game, “I was humiliated Roger! La Rossa is a nice restaurant and I was just sitting there, like a fool, by myself waiting for a man that was never going to show up.”

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath as he anxiously ran a hand over his face, “that was tonight?”

“Yes, that was tonight,” she frowned at him. Sticking her key in the lock, she let herself in, a reluctant Roger following her in. He gave her a sad look but she wasn’t having it, “you promised this time. You’ve done this countless times and frankly, it’s getting really old. Instead of sitting there and feeling sorry for myself, I left. I called Deacy and ended up playing scrabble with him, Bri, and Freddie.”

“You could have called me to remind me!” he became flustered as he flopped down the couch, annoyed mostly with himself as he tried to control his temper. She stood there, giving him a surprised expression as he tried to pit this on her.

“No, Roger. That is not my job. I am your girlfriend not your keeper. It’s your responsibility, as a grown man, to be able to do things, simple things, such as remembering a date on your own!” she knew her voice was shrill, but she didn’t care at this point.

“Fine, so this is all my fault!” he shouted back at her, “it’s always my fault! Good old Roger, fucking everything up!”

“I never said that! Quit trying to make yourself the victim! I take responsibility for my actions, and if something is my fault, I’ll admit it!” she got closer to him, ready to fightt him on this. She wasn’t ready to let him get his way this time, “just man up and deal with it, Rog.”

“Wow, really, Y/N? Says the one who was so upset she went crying to Deacon? What did you tell them all? How I’m the worst person ever, how ruined everything?” he asked, wondering just how much the boys knew. He stood up and the two of them were just glaring at each other, their chests rising and falling rapidly with raggef breaths.

“I didn’t go crying to anyone,” her voice was low, and she wanted nothing more than for him to leave. She hated arguing with him. She just wanted things to be normal. She just wanted to love him, “and I didn’t tell them anything. I’m not like that, Rog, and you should know that. I told them you said you were feeling sick and we didn’t have a date. You ruined that yourself by calling Deacy. You know how that problem could have been solved? If you’d just remembered.”

“Fine,” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air, “look, I’m sorry, okay? I know I’m a shit boyfriend.”

“Where were you, Rog?” she asked quietly. She both did and didn’t want to know the answer. She didn’t know which desire was stronger, “tell me. Where were you? You weren’t with me or the boys. We saw your parents last weekend, and I know you didn’t have anything scheduled.”

“It’s nothing, Y/N,” he said firmly, avoiding her gaze, as he nervously swallowed the lump in this throat, “please just drop it.”

“If it’s nothing, then tell me,” she pushed him a little further, knowing he would eventually give in. She studied him and noticed that his lips were slightly plumper than normal. A scent clung onto him, a scent that she didn’t recognize as his or hers. The lightest of bruises covered his neck, “why are you avoiding the question?”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?” he sighed as he tried to push past her, but she grabbed his wrist and didn’t let him go, “Y/N.”

“Tell me, Roger. If it’s nothing you can tell me. You’re my boyfriend, we’re supposed to be able to tell anything,” her voice was small as she tried to keep from crying. She was almost positive she had her answer.

“Oh? Then tell me, girlfriend, why won’t you admit you’re in love with Deacon?” his voice was laced with venom as he turned to face her. Her mouth dropped open at the shock of the sudden question. She hadn’t been expecting that, “now you’re all quiet? I can see the way you look at him and the way he looks at you.”

“Because I love you, you stupid idiot,” she shouted back at him, a hurt expression on her face. He knew, how did he know? Even if she had never admitted it, even to herself, she knew the feelings for John were there. She had never even said them out loud though.

But she loved Roger. She knew she loved him too, just to what extent was the question. She struggled to bite back her tears, “I love you. I chose you, Roger. After all those time you tried to ask me out, I said yes. To you. And I still chose you every day.”

“Well, I love you too,” he sighed, wishing he could take back his words. He didn’t mean to upset her, he hated seeing her upset. But sometimes the words were hard to hold back. He still had that Taylor temper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she said quietly, and he threw his back, whether in annoyance or exasperation, she wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t wavering from getting an answer. It was the least she deserved, “tell me where you where. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he choked as he looked back at her. His eyes were glassy and she knew what he meant. Unfortunately, the words were not foreign to her - several men in the past had told her the same things, “I’m so sorry, my love. It didn’t mean anything, I swear. It was an accident-”

“It was an accident?” she was somewhere between laughter and crying as she echoed his words. That was a new one.

“Y/N, I swear it was,” he said as he tried to pull her in his arms. A few hot spilled down her cheeks as she smacked his arm and took a step back from her, “baby, please.”

“No,” she all but whispered, “don’t call me that right now. Roger, how could you do this? You don’t just sleep with someone by accident. It doesn’t work like that! It’s not like slipping and falling. It takes effort to do that.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. She was just there, and I had a few drinks, and then next thing I knew-”

“So you were just out day drinking, met a girl, and fucked her?” his excuse was so pathetic. Once she said it out loud, it just made her laugh, a sad, strangled sound, “you know, Roger, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Why were you even drinking during the day? You had rehearsal earlier today and then what? You just went to the bar?”

“It was a meeting, honestly.”

“A meeting?” she scoffed, “where were the others then?”

“I was meeting with someone about my set up, it doesn’t involve the others,” he closed his eyes, regretting every single action he had taken. He shouldn’t have given in so easily. He should have known better.

“Huh, okay. But that doesn’t excuse any of this,” her vision was cloudy now, “I just...I don’t understand. Why? I’ve never asked you for much Roger, the only thing I’ve ever asked was that you don’t do this. Exactly this. And yet that’s what you did.”

“I’m so, so, sorry, my love,” he sunk down on his knees as he pleaded with her. He put his hands around her waist and held her close, his head resting on her hips. His voice was thick as he too starting crying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t...I shouldn’t done this. Please, please forgive me. I love you so much, Y/N.”

“Please leave,” she said quietly, trying to pry out of his iron grip, “I don’t want to be around you right now. You broke my heart, Rog.”

“Y/N, please-”

“I got up this morning, a smile on my face because of you. I spent my day excited because, getting all dressed up, because you promised to take me on a nice date. I sat there by myself, like an idiot, stood up again. Then you have the audacity to show up at my house, smelling like another woman and covered in hickies, trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I don’t even know how to begin to apologize,” he looked at her pathetically from the floor, his own face red and splotchy, “words cannot describe the magnitude of the mistake I made.”

“Then why did you do it?” she covered her face with her hands, “if you know it was wrong, then why? There’s a lot...a lot of steps to take in between seeing someone and having sex with them, especially if you know it’s wrong. You could have stopped yourself. If you wanted to have sex, you could have come to me. You know that! But you still chose to go through with your actions. Now we both have to deal with that.”

“Can you ever forgive me?” he looked at her with wide, innocent eyes, gnawing on his own lips, “please. I love you so much, Y/N.”

“Did you think about how much you loved me when you were fucking another woman?” she hissed at him, going over to door and hastily pulling it open. No more words came out of her mouth as just closed her eyes and pointed into the hallway, “or were you just busy thinking about chasing your own high the whole time? Whatever it was, I hope it is was worth it.”

“Y/N,” her name rolled off his tongue like a prayer, like it was the only thing he had left in the world, “please. Don’t leave me. I need you. I love you.”

“Just go,” she was almost begging him at this point. All she wanted was to be alone and have a good cry, “if you love me, even remotely, please go.”

He got up slowly, heading out the door at a languid pace, waiting for her to break the tension and tell him that she still loved him, “please say this isn’t over. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“I’m not making any promises right now,” she moved to close the door, “I’m not in the right headspace to be making any decisions right now.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” it was a last minute desperate plea.

“We’ll see,” was all she said as she closed the door, listening to it click shut before quickly locking the door. Keeping an ear at it, she listened for his retreating footsteps. After a few minutes, she heard Roger slowly leave, and she allowed herself to slid down the door, crying silently.

Her pity party was cut sort when she heard her phone start to ring, the noise seeming too loud in the sad, lonely apartment. Pulling herself up, she slowly made her way over to the phone, desperately hoping that it wasn’t Roger from a payphone.

“Hello?” she asked quietly, trying to keep her sniffling down.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” it was John of course, just like clock work. Just like he knew.

“Nothing,” she lied, putting to keep herself calm, “nothing at all. What’s up? It’s a little late to be calling, isn’t it?”

“I wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he responded, a note of concern in his voice, “you were upset when you left. And you still sound...not so great. Are you sure everything’s fine, love bug?”

“Everything’s fine, Deacy,” the lies were coming easily now, “it’s just late and I”m tried.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.“

“Call me if you need anything at all,” his voice was soft and sweet and she desperately wished he was there with her right now. He always knew just what to say, “Love you.”

“Goodnight John,” she murmured at him, hanging up before he could say anything else. Her heart was heavy with so many emotions, and confused feelings, her mind racing with a million different thoughts. It was all too much, and yet not enough, all at the same time. Right now all she wanted was sleep.

Maybe the world would look better tomorrow. Maybe.

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