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cicada-bones · 4 years ago

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The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 33: Aftermath

Im sorry this one took me so long! Schoolwork and the election really wiped me out! But I hope you enjoy and as always - let me know what you think!

(also this moodboard will hopefully make sense a lil ways through this one - was super fun to make so I hope you like it)

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With each step down the stone staircase, a slight clicking sounded from Rowan’s hip, the four stone collars jostling against each other as he walked. With each step he took away from Aelin, he felt something in his chest twisting. Something bright, and strong, and full of fire. Something new.

The carranam bond.

Rowan had never heard one described before, and he was taken aback by the strength of it, the potency. It was like a…tether. That connected him to her. An artifact of Aelin’s scent, like a key, buried in his chest.

It was strange, to be given another magical connection after so many centuries. He was used to the feel of the blood oath on his soul, the way it writhed in his veins. An acidic, curling smoke. The strength of it. The inevitability of it. Maeve always made sure that their oaths to her were born of pure submission.

That bond smothered his will, and dulled his senses. That bond had put him to sleep for two hundred years.

This bond was a jolt of electricity. An awakening.

The stone corridors were quiet all around him, but not with death. With healing. Rowan could sense the presences of his…cadre, as Aelin liked to call them, deeper in the fortress. Small flickers of darkness at the edges of his senses.

And with each of his steps closer to them, Rowan couldn’t help but think that this new bond was almost like how he had felt with Lyria. Couldn’t help but draw comparisons, and similarities.

Before her death, and the mating bond became an aching chasm in his chest, it had been a soft, warm presence just over his heart. A place where he could feel his mate close. Where he could sense her.

Rowan always felt when she was in pain, when she was in danger. And it gave him the vaguest sense of her location, almost like a scent trail.

This new bond, his carranam bond with Aelin, was strikingly like that. Unnervingly so.

Aelin hadn’t replaced Lyria. She hadn’t filled the hole the mating bond had left within him. But with this carranam bond…Rowan found that it was harder and harder to feel that hollow ache. To feel the place where his body remembered her loss.

And Rowan wasn’t exactly sure whether he was glad of it.

Rowan was hovering just before the entrance to the corridor where he had spent most of that morning – shoulder to shoulder with the demi-Fae, sweat dripping down his limbs, the air drenched in copper. Now, it was empty of all but the dead. The stones were slick with blood, the walls spattered with gore. Rowan could hardly walk without stepping on hands and toes and torsos, cold and hard and bulky in death.

But Rowan did so anyways – making his way through the pit of bodies to check for a smothered breath or faint heartbeat – any hint of life. He found none. Someone had clearly already gone through and collected the injured, then probably moved them to the dining hall, or the inner courtyard, to be attended to. Where the survivors had gone, Rowan did not yet know.

He stood and sighed, making to leave the corridor.

There was much to be done. The bodies would have to be burned. The gate to the tunnel was mangled, it would have to be reinforced – and soon, in case of a second attack. There were the injured to heal, and prisoners to organize.

And Rowan was utterly uninterested in all of it. All he wanted was to go back; to follow that tether to its source. To curl up beside Aelin and sleep for a century or more.

His feet were slow as they mounted the stairs, making for the sentry station where he knew he would be able to find Malakai. But before he made it very far, a familiar, bronze-skinned shape nearly barreled into him.

“Hey – oh, it’s you.” Fenrys, now in human form, stepped to the side and out of the way of Rowan’s path. Though he had fought as his wolf, the younger male was drenched in half-dried blood, his skin mottled with newly forming bruises. It didn’t matter that it was a different form – it was still you.

Rowan’s greeting was guarded. “Fenrys.”

“Rowan. Where’d you get off to? You missed almost all the fun!” Even with his hair matted together with someone else’s blood, the boy was practically chipper.

Rowan frowned, raising his eyebrows. Fun?

Fenrys waved his hands derisively. “You know what I mean. Did you leave to go help the princess? Is she alright?”

Though he was only asking from general curiosity, there was an anxiety in his tone that unsettled Rowan. He didn’t know what they wanted with Aelin, didn’t know if Maeve had sent them, couldn’t be sure of anything. Though he had fought with them for years almost beyond count, he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them.

Rowan followed Fenrys’ question with one of his own. “What happened after I left? Where were the survivors taken?”

“Lorcan’s in charge. Last I saw, he was up on the battlements with an older demi-Fae who seemed to be a leader. There were forty or so soldiers who were still standing when their commanders fell, and they surrendered fairly painlessly. Lorcan had them taken to the dungeons to await questioning, but none of them seem particularly talkative.”

So Lorcan had taken charge. Something inside Rowan unfurled, a hidden tension flowing from his limbs. “How many dead?”

“Most survived. Seems that Adarlan was seeking to capture, not kill. I think last count was twelve, though that might increase before night falls.”

“Wounded?”

“Our side? Most. I think Gavriel is attending to them in the mess hall. There are a few dozen Adarlanian soldiers too – but I think they’re being kept separately.”

Rowan just nodded, satisfied. But before he could turn to depart, Fenrys’ hand shot out, stopping him.

“Wait – you never answered my question. Is the princess alright? We…we passed her on our way in and she…she didn’t look very good.”

Fenrys’ eyes were surprisingly earnest. But instead of compassion, Rowan felt a chill pass through him. Fenrys had seen Aelin. They all had, on their way into Mistward. For some reason, Rowan had never thought that through before – that in order to reach the fortress, his cadre must have passed by Aelin. And left her there.

“You saw her?”

Fenrys seemed to hesitate at the coldness in Rowan’s tone. “…Yes. She let us through that strange black smoke. It was phenomenal actually – she made this…this bridge. Of golden light. A tunnel, that gave us a way through. Otherwise we never would have been able to make it.”

There was awe on the young male’s face, wonder in his voice. But Rowan did not hear it. “You saw her, and you just left her there?”

Fenrys started, his brow furrowing. “Yes. What else could we have done?”

Rowan was fuming. You could have stayed. You could have helped. He wanted to rage at the male, to shout himself hoarse. But he kept himself in check.

“She will be fine in a few days.” And Rowan turned and left without another word.

He didn’t really expect Fenrys to understand. But Lorcan should have. And Gavriel definitely should have. Had they all just sailed past her?

Gavriel knew exactly what it was like when the people you were responsible for died under your command. Hadn’t Rowan tattooed enough names into the male’s skin by now? It was almost as though they died by your very hand. As if they died because of you. Because you didn’t think hard enough, or plan well enough.

They died because you weren’t good enough to save them.

Gavriel knew that. And he had nearly let Aelin die for them anyways. To die for him.

Rowan strode out through the gates and onto the yellowed grass, damp with rain. The ward stones towered before him, dark and silent and aged. Even with the death of the creatures, the magic that had fueled them was gone – utterly emptied.

Most likely, they would never spark again.

The loss of their magic, their majesty, weighed on Rowan just as those twelve deaths did. Deaths that he was responsible for. Somewhere, the logical part of his mind told him that there was nothing more he could have done, nothing more he could have sacrificed. But it was a very small part.

Rowan took another step forwards, to rest a hand on the black monoliths. Seeking to confirm with his hands what his eyes and ears were already telling him. But as he moved, the stone collars jostled once again, like a chorus of dull wind chimes.

Rowan lifted one off of his sword belt, examining it closely for the first time. They were perfectly round and utterly black – so dark that it was hard to see the flaws on the matte surface.

Even with the demons dead and gone, the fragments of stone held whispers of darkness about them. And it was more than just a memory of power, more than just a trace. It was almost as if those bodies had been little more than vehicles for the darkness, and it was the collars that held the real power.

Rowan placed the circle of stone carefully back on his belt, then shifted and flew out into the morning light, headed deep into the mountains.

He didn’t have time to make it all the way to the sea, not with Aelin sleeping in their rooms, unprotected, while Maeve’s warriors strode through Mistward. Not when Rowan couldn’t be sure of their motives, or their obligations.

Instead, he headed for the deepest, wildest place he could find with his winds and his hawk’s eyes.

Half an hour passed, and eventually he chanced upon a patch of evergreens hidden in the shadows between two massive peaks. Though it was approaching summer, snow still shone at their tops, the steadily rising sun marking the mountains a blinding white.

Rowan dove through the chill, passing between shelves of rock and soaring through narrow crevasses until the light dimmed, and became scarce, and mid-morning turned to dusky twilight.

The evergreens were undaunted however, monarchs rising up against the faces of stone to tower over the southern hills that lay below. Rowan flew to the base of a particularly gigantic pine, where he shifted in mid-air and landed on a platform of gnarled roots and discarded rusty pine needles.

Rowan breathed deep, then called his power up from within, pulling the last dregs of ice from the well in his chest. The magic came unwillingly, though with it he cast a blade of pure ice. Which he used to dig into the earth, tunneling deep into the nest of roots below.

Once the hole was at least eight feet deep, Rowan let the blade melt and fade into the dry earth. He carefully lifted each collar off his swordbelt and threw them into the deep, then filled the pit back up with hard-packed earth, replacing the bed of pine needles over the surface.

Rowan stood carefully, realizing for the first time that he had let his concentration slip. That he’d perhaps been too focused on the task before him, and not paid enough attention to his surroundings.

For as he turned to leave the hollow, a strange presence flitted at the edges of his senses.

Immediately, Rowan strengthened his shields and cast out his winds, seeking answers. The air did not give them to him. Not really.

The presence felt…different. Unexpected. But surprisingly, not unfamiliar.

It felt wild.

Then it clicked into place. The Little Folk.

Rowan took a hesitant step forwards, just as a pair of eyes peeked over a fallen log, then quickly fell from view. Rowan took another step. And another.

He wanted to speak, to say something. To tell them that the demon creatures were dead, that the wild reaches were safe once more. To tell them who had killed them. But for some reason, Rowan felt that they somehow already knew.

Rowan reached the log, expecting to find it empty. So he was unsurprised to find that the faeries were gone, their presence fading from the hollow. But he was startled by the fact that the log was not completely bare.

Atop the mossy surface rested two circles – crowns, Rowan realized – of red and white.

They were undeniably beautiful. Exquisitely crafted wreaths of the warmest flame and the coldest frost. Rowan’s hand stretched towards the red one first, recognizing spiky red maple leaves and orange petals from marigold flowers. There were strips of yellow from the brightest buttercups, and yet more colors from plants Rowan could not name. All collected and pieced together into this fiery masterpiece that barely resembled the plants they had once been.

Rowan was struck with the memory of the crown Aelin had once made for him, the crown of pure flames. This wreath was the perfect image of her magic.

He felt his eyes shift, searching out the other wreath. It was quieter, more understated, and yet still indisputably majestic. It was made of leaves of pure frost, wormwood and silver sage and needles of blue pine. And the spitting image of the circlet he had crafted for Aelin.

Rowan felt his brow furrowing, his gaze searching through the close-set tree boughs for any hint of movement, any indication that they were still there. Still watching.

For they had been. The Little Folk had been watching them for weeks.

And while Rowan was discomforted by this discovery, he felt no fear, no antagonism. These were gifts, not threats. A silent thanks.

And as Rowan held that crown of fire between his hands, it finally sank in. The demons were dead. They had won. Aelin had lived.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he raised his head to face the darkness of the forest beyond. “Thank you,” Rowan said. “Thank you.”

···

The harsh stone of Mistward’s walls appeared through the thinning mist as Rowan dove towards the fortress. Now that the barrier-stones were forever silenced, he no longer had to pass through the front gate, and so could glide over the battlement wall and land directly on the stones of the interior courtyard.

With the knowledge that Lorcan had taken charge alongside Malakai, and that they had suffered minimal losses with the enemy forces already contained and subdued, Rowan had lost all interest in participating in the recovery and repairs. All he wanted was to go up to their rooms, bar the door, and drift off into the deepest sleep he had risked in weeks.

But the interior courtyard was far from the empty, silent place it usually was.

A temporary hospital had been set up under swathes of white canvas, where men were lying on cots and sitting on mats, blood pooling beneath bandages while hollowed eyes stared into air filled with the sounds of the dying.

Mistward hadn’t been hit hard, but Adarlan had been. And the wounded waiting to be helped numbered in the dozens.

Fenrys had told Rowan that the hospital had been set up in the dining hall. Otherwise, Rowan would have flown directly to his rooms, instead of risking passing by where he knew Gavriel would be waiting for him.

The male in question looked up just as Rowan entered. There was no avoiding him, no matter how much Rowan might wish to.

Gavriel was standing at the bedside of a young soldier in Adarlan’s colors, though they were hard to see through the pools of blood encrusting the fabric. But as Gavirel wasn’t holding bandage or needle and thread, Rowan assumed that the blood was not the soldier’s.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed as his eyes met Rowan’s, concern and – was that fear? – passing through his scent. But as usual, the male swiftly reigned in his emotions once more.

“Are you alright?”

The question felt loaded, though Rowan wasn’t sure if that was Gavriel’s intention. It didn’t really matter. Rowan didn’t have an answer to give him. So instead of speaking, Rowan just grunted, then moved to stand at the soldier’s other side. Silently offering his assistance.

Together, they reset the soldier’s broken leg, then used their combined magics to bind the fragments of bone and knit the skin and muscle back together. Despite everything, the two of them immediately fell back into a rhythm, into that shared dance of movement and magic and thought.

Soon, the man was whole once again. Gavriel took a wet cloth from the man’s bedside and used it to wipe his hands and face, then handed it over to Rowan, a silent thanks in his eyes. Rowan took it.

“Is Aelin going to be alright?”

A pause. “She’s resting.”

“She has grown these past weeks. Improved.”

Another grunt.

“Do you think it is enough?”

For the first time, Rowan looked directly into Gavriel’s eyes. Something passed between them. “I cannot keep her here forever.”

“No, you cannot.”

There almost seemed to be actual remorse in the male’s voice. Rowan wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep his irritation in check for much longer. “Is that why then?”

“Why what?”

“Why you just left her there? Why you held me down when I tried to help her?”

Gavriel looked taken aback. “You think that I wanted the girl to die?”

“Give me an alternative.”

“She begged us to leave – to save you. I could not deny her her last wish.”

“Even when you knew that would not be what I wanted?” Rowan was very nearly shouting now. “Even after all these years of tattooing the names of the Fae you’ve lost on your own skin? You still don’t understand?”

“If you had seen her face, you would not have denied her either.” The quiet resolve on Gavriel’s face was enough to momentarily disarm Rowan. He changed tack. “What were those stone rings you carried before? I didn��t get a good look – “

“Does Maeve know that you’re here?” Rowan interrupted before the male could finish his question.

Gavriel hesitated, his eyes darkening. But not with anger, with…shame. “No. She did not know when we left. Though she must surely know by now.”

A small measure of sympathy washed through Rowan, working to melt the ice somewhat. Gavriel was loyal through and through. This betrayal had cut him.

“What happened? When – when you got my letters?”

Another pause. “I was alone. Fenrys and Connall were also in the capital, but I didn’t meet up with them until after. I don’t know how Lorcan and Vaughn decided, but they were still in the south – we met up with them near the southern mountain pass.” Gavriel’s eyes were almost boring into Rowan’s by this point, pinning him in place. “I did not say anything to anyone. I just left. But that doesn’t mean that you have nothing to worry about.”

The accusation in his tone was a painful reminder of what Rowan had been suppressing all morning. A reminder of what was waiting for them back in Doranelle. Who was waiting for all of them.

And whatever happened, it would be Rowans fault. Their pain, their punishment. Aelin’s pain – it all would be his fault. But he saw no other way.

Rowan took a slow step back, nodding at Gavriel. All of his anger towards the male had temporarily evaporated. “Thank – thank you.” He choked out. “For coming. For saving her.” Then he turned and left the courtyard, heading up the stairs to finally join Aelin in their bed.

···

Lorcan was nearly at his wits end.

He’d missed most of the actual fighting, instead babysitting Rowan to make sure that the bastard didn’t run off to his own death. So by the time he reached the tunnel where it appeared most of the battle had taken place, the twins had already taken care of almost everything. And now he was stuck organizing the repairs and recovery of this insignificant backwater fortress.

Bodies had to be collected and burned, sentries needed to be sent out to confirm that there were no other forces lying in wait for a second attack, workers needed to be organized to clear away the rubble and gore. He needed to ensure that the prisoners from Adarlan were well locked up, and had to arrange for them to be interrogated.

But all the while, as the morning passed into mid-day, Lorcan couldn’t get that image out of his head. The picture of his second, of Whitethorn for gods’ sake, screaming bloody murder as that princess fell into darkness. The look on his face when he wrenched himself free of their grip and ran to her. The image of them in each other’s arms, while the world burned to ash at her hand.

When they arrived, Lorcan had left her for dead. He’d dismissed her – just like that. The darkness surrounding those creatures was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The feel of it on his skin…Lorcan shivered. His powers did nothing against it.

Only fire could destroy them, and the princess had burned out. Or so he’d thought.

He’d tried to convince Whitethorn that the girl was dead, that there was nothing to be done. But the male refused to listen. And then, when she rose through the darkness – it was almost as though she brought the dawn with her.

That power…it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Apart from his queen, nothing could match the girl. Nothing and no one. Not even him.

He almost didn’t even blame Whitethorn for going after her.

But only a very small part.

Mostly, Lorcan felt…betrayed. There really was no other word for it. And betrayed for love, of all things.

Everything was about to change. Nothing would ever again be the same between them, or within his lieutenants. Never again would they rove through the countryside together, drinking and fighting and bedding women. Never again would Rowan be able to look at the horizon without some measure of longing in his eyes.

Rowan Whitethorn had fallen in love. After all these centuries, and with that foreign bitch of all people. Whether the bastard knew it or not, he had fallen in love once more. And it would probably break him all over again.

Lorcan cursed violently, and a sentry in the corner of the room jumped in fright.

He didn’t know where Rowan was at the moment, and frankly, he didn’t much care. Lorcan wasn’t sure he wanted to see him. Didn’t know what the hell they would say to each other.

Not that Rowan’s help wouldn’t be appreciated. The older demi-Fae male in charge of the fortress – Malakai, Lorcan thought his name was – wasn’t particularly helpful. Rowan was Lorcan’s second for good reason, and his other lieutenants were already occupied.

Fenrys and Connall were running forays into the perimeter, ensuring that there weren’t any more parties of soldiers lying in wait. Gavriel had been dispatched to help the small group of fighters who had skills in healing, and Vaughn was helping to repair the damage done to the escape tunnel. It had caved in in places, and the gates were badly damaged.

They were all here, doing their duty. Helping Rowan save all of these gods-damned ungrateful bastards. Risking their lives, and most definitely risking their liberty. All because of Rowan. And where was he? Absolutely nowhere to be found. Probably off with that fire-breathing bitch.

At some point, Connall returned with the information that there weren’t any soldiers within fifty miles of the fortress, and the caves that had served as their camp all these weeks were emptied.

Lorcan then sent the wolf to the healer’s compound to inform the head healer there that the threat had been dealt with, at which point the older demi-Fae commander spoke up and said that the healers had been moved into the mountains for safety, and Lorcan had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from snarling at the male.

Then Connall was gone, Fenrys was arranging for the traps in the woods to be taken apart, and the elderly demi-Fae had left with some mumbled excuse about following along behind Connall to meet up with someone to tell them the news. And Lorcan was alone. Which he found was actually not that much better than having company.

What did Rowan think was going to happen?

Did he think that Maeve would let them be together? That there was some happy future in store for them?

The second that that little girl made it through Doranelle’s gates, she would likely be trapped there forever. Maeve would never let a power like that slip through her fingers – and with the way the girl looked at Rowan? The princess was doomed.

Maeve would force the girl to swear the blood oath, one way or the other. Then, once the girl was hers, Maeve would undoubtedly keep her and Rowan separated as much as physically possible.

Because they were carranam, and together…together their power was more than anything Lorcan had ever seen. Even Maeve –

No, his queen was the most powerful being in all of existence. But still, the two of them together could prove a threat. And Maeve would not stand for it. So they must be kept apart.

Lorcan’s teeth slammed together. Why had that jackass allowed this to happen?

His team of commanders had been near-perfect. They worked together almost seamlessly, each with their own specialties. There was order, and structure. Even Fenrys, who was a right pain in the ass most of the time, fit within their hierarchy well.

But now…now it would all fall apart. Rowan loved that girl, and everything was about to change. He would defend her above all others, would protect her in the face of any threats, would never put her in any danger – even if it proved necessary in order to meet their objective.

That bastard’s cock was going to fuck everything up. And Lorcan didn’t see any way to stop it.

Then Vaughn reappeared, with the news that he had just gone down to the dungeons to check on the prisoners, and found them all dead in their cells. Poison.

Lorcan muttered a violent curse, and stood.

···

Gavriel was exhausted to his very bones. Night had now fallen, and they had lost three more men over the course of the afternoon. Three men whose deaths he had not been able to prevent.

Many more Adarlanian soldiers had died, but Gavriel couldn’t bring himself to much care about them. Particularly after they started bringing out the cyanide. Lorcan had told him that they had lost all of the prisoners in the cells, and to try his best to save the few soldiers from Adarlan who were still in his care.

Gavriel told the male not to get his hopes up.

He had spent the entire day at work, stuck in some courtyard, surrounded by the moans and complaints of broken men. There were a few demi-Fae sentries who had some healing magic, but far too soon their powers were exhausted, and Gavriel had to send them off to rest.

He couldn’t completely heal all of them – it would have surpassed his strength. But he ensured that no one died that wasn’t already marked to enter Hellas’ realm. Obviously, the soldiers’ goal had been to overwhelm and capture, rather than kill. The fortress was very lucky to have escaped with so little death.

Still, what he wouldn’t have given to have Rowan’s help. Or Lorcan’s. Or anyone’s, really. But they were all busy. And Gavriel would have rathered face a dragon in single combat than to go up to Rowan’s rooms and ask him to come down and help. Especially after their discussion those hours earlier.

It had been so strange – the cold male had felt almost…vulnerable. In a way that Gavriel had never seen before. And the look on his face when the barrier fell, and the princess was consumed by darkness…Gavriel would be haunted by that look for as long as he lived.

Just as he had known the second he saw the princess’s pleading, desperate, dying face before the ward-stones, begging them to go save Rowan, that she had loved him, in that moment he had known the same for Rowan. The prince loved that woman. And now there was nothing that any of them could do about it.

All they would be able to do was wait, and watch, and discover how it would play out.

But there was something, something more. The two of them were closer, more comfortable with each other. And they were obviously sleeping in the same bed. But there was also this strange hint, a trace, of the girl’s scent on Rowan. Mixed in with his.

Perhaps it was just the settling of that new bond between them – the carranam bond. For some reason that didn’t quite sit right with Gavriel.

Though that was another image it didn’t seem likely he would ever be able to erase from his mind. The way they looked together, staring into each other’s eyes while the entire world burned to ashes around them. The way their power felt as it rushed over his skin, an avalanche, a tsunami. The explosion of a star on the surface on the earth.

The fact that they were carranam changed everything. Now, if Aelin joined their ranks, it seemed unlikely that Rowan and the princess would be allowed within fifty feet of each other. Maeve disliked a threat almost as much as she hated betrayal. Or disloyalty.

Gavriel’s stomach turned over. He knew far too well what they would be facing upon their return to Doranelle. He forced his mind away from the unpleasant memories. He had made his choice, and he would stick by it. He had known the consequences when he decided to come.

And he would not regret it. The girl and Rowan had both lived. Even the majority of the demi-Fae had survived.

Though he would regret leaving Aelin alone at those gates for as long as he lived. Rowan was right, he should have stayed. No matter how worried he had been for his friend, the princess had needed him. And he had almost let her die for them.

His daughter. The words were an uncomfortable weight. Full of doubt. At first he had desperately shied away from them, aching for them not to be true, for them to be anything but. Now, he was less sure.

The princess was growing into a powerful female, a leader and magic user worthy of renown. Wouldn’t it be understandable to want to belong to her, in some small way? To want to be hers?

Shame joined the guilt writhing in his gut. It was a betrayal to his queen to want to belong to another. For it wasn’t really as a father that he wanted to belong to the princess, it was as a soldier. A lieutenant.

Aelin’s power was a beacon, and just like Rowan obviously was, Gavriel felt himself being drawn to her.

So, as Gavriel moved between the dozens of patients sleeping before him, searching for bandages to change and fevers to lessen, his thoughts kept whirling back to that essential, all-consuming question. What would happen when Rowan brought the princess to Doranelle? And would Rowan be able to survive another loss of this magnitude?

The night slowly passed into day, and just before dawn began to peek her head over the mountains, Lorcan appeared.

He was obviously trying to sneak out before the fortress woke up, now that the majority of Mistward was once again up and running as normal. And though Gavriel doubted the male would ever admit it to himself, to leave without having to see Rowan. Without having to deal with whatever it was that was shifting like quicksand beneath their feet.

Gavriel stood and walked over to meet Lorcan, who was now standing over by the entry gates, buckling on his swordbelt.

They stood in silence for a moment, but then, “What do you think will happen when we return? What are you going to say to her?”

Lorcan’s eyes narrowed, knowing immediately what Gavriel was getting at. “I’m going to tell her the truth of what happened. What else.”

Gavriel’s brows furrowed. “You know as well as I –”

“That changes nothing.”

“It changes everything, and you know it.”

“Just because Rowan went and fell for – ”

“He hasn’t been at peace for centuries, Lorcan. You would deny him that?”

“No. But there isn’t exactly anything that we can do to stop it. I would worry less about that selfish bastard, and more about your own skin, Gavriel. Rowan and that bitch are going to get what’s coming to them, and so are we.”

Gavriel only nodded. “I knew that when I decided to leave.”

Lorcan’s face darkened. “Tell Rowan I said goodbye. And that…that by the time he returns to Doranelle, I will have submitted my report. I can’t hide this from her – even if I wanted to.”

Gavriel nodded again, then clasped Lorcan’s arms in farewell. “I will meet you on the road, Commander.”

Lorcan’s gaze shifted slightly, an acknowledgement that he heard the silent words in Gavriel’s promise. I am coming too. I will not let you enter Doranelle alone.

But the male just jerked his head once, turned, and ran into the mist.

Dawn passed into morning, and Fenrys, Connall, and Vaughn all also departed, with similar words of farewell. But Gavriel lingered – wanting to see the girl one last time before he left, wanting to ask her the question that burned on his lips.

Before morning could give way to midday, an opportunity presented itself. Rowan and the princess were walking down through the fortress and the courtyard, heading out over the grounds. So Gavriel headed towards the back gate in order to intercept them.

Rowan was stony faced. Aelin was smiling.

I thought you’d be gone by now.” The accusation in Rowan’s icy voice was difficult to ignore.

“The twins and Vaughan left an hour ago, and Lorcan left at dawn. He said to tell you good-bye.”

Rowan only nodded absentmindedly, dismissing Lorcan’s message without much thought. “What do you want?”

Gavriel frowned, looking them both up and down. “Be careful when you face Maeve. We’ll have given our reports by then.”

Rowan didn’t react, though the princess started slightly. “Travel swiftly,” he said, an obvious dismissal, and continued walking past the gate and into the waiting mists. The princess, however, lingered.

Her eyes were cautious, and they studied him carefully. Then she said, softer than the mists brushing his cheeks, “Thank you.” Gavriel blinked, and he heard Rowan freeze suddenly at his back. “For the warning. And for hesitating that day.”

She extended a shaking hand towards him, wrapped in gauze and purple with bruises. Gavriel looked at it for a moment before shaking it gently in his own. Her warm golden eyes met his, and then all of sudden he was asking the question, the question on which his world now turned.

“…How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she replied, casually as anything, and Gavriel was releasing a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He didn’t know if it was from relief or sadness or surprise, though nevertheless, it was a release.

Aelin Galathynius was not, and could not ever be, his daughter. She was too young, by a number of years.

In order to fill the strange silence that had fallen, Gavriel made some comment about how that made her magic even more impressive. Aelin winked at him, then turned to follow Rowan into the trees.

Gavriel could feel the male’s confusion from a dozen feet away, but he didn’t much care. Rowan could be confused for a bit. He deserved as much for what he had put them all through, and what he was going to put them through, over these few weeks. And Gavriel was far too confused and conflicted himself to much care about the younger male’s feelings at the moment.

He was relieved at the news, but that worry was still there. He cared about the girl now, and that wasn’t something so easily undone. And it was not only because of his own burgeoning affection.

Gavriel couldn’t help but worry for the girl on Rowan’s behalf. Particularly because of the look Rowan was currently giving her – that flaming, all-consuming look. Like he was the moon, looking at his own personal sun. Knowing that soon, it would all come to an end.

So as the pair of them began to disappear into the trees, Gavriel murmured, “Good luck, Rowan.”

Then he shifted, and ran off to join his fellow warriors. To head for the capital, where Maeve was lying in wait.

To head for Doranelle.

…

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

…

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @booknerdproblems @queen-of-glass @westofmoon @morganofthewildfire @fangirlprincess09

(let me know if you would like to be added to this taglist!)

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saintheartwing · 4 years ago

Text

Undertales of Friendship: Beware the Man Who Speaks in Hands

Frisk was not having very good dreams.

Over and over, he would find himself descending down, down into the dark recesses of the "True" Laboratory beneath the normal place where Alphys had worked in the underground. The walls a dark green, a chill running through the air, a faint fog all around his feet as he nervously stepped past patient chair after patient chair. Over and over again he'd approach the sinks in the back of the room, turning them on to get the key one of them had inside them, hoping to flood the sinks and for the key to either float up, or the pipes beneath to burst open to get what he wanted. Yet that always gave way to the sight of that...THING coming out of the third sink.

A cute little round, cheery face, twisting and bulging and morphing into a monstrosity with a horrific laugh, large black eyes with pinprick white pupils gazing back. A tongue lagging out of one of many mouths, eternally crying and bleeding-black eyes on a whispy, curved tail like a scythe. This...this odd, strange, faintly melted specter of many faces looking back at him, three in a row all rising up from the sinks, mouths opening and closing and all speaking at once, and saying the same phrase again and again.

"LOREM IPSUM DOCET.

LOREM IPSUM DOCET.

LOREM IPSUM DOCET."

Frisk knew what it meant. Sorrow itself teaches. And he knew what these things were. Pieces of what had once been the Royal Scientist of the Underground, WingDinG Aster, aka Gaster, as he preferred to be called. More bestial and darker traits had risen up in this little "Mini-Me" of Gaster, and they were really only interested in one thing.

"Come join the fun."

"It's a real get together!"

"Become one of us! One of us!"

"You'll be with us soon." The Memoryheads intoned, as more heads sprang up around Frisk, knocking him back as they bulged and popped, Frisk shivering as the Memoryhead closest to him intoned in a dark voice.

"Sorrow itself teaches."

"Teaches what?" Frisk asked. And again the Memoryheads would get closer...closer. "Look, I-I don't want to join in the fun!" He insisted. How many times had he done this before, only to be ignored as they leapt on him and-

But now it was different. Now they merged together, popping and squishing into one, growing larger and larger as an enormous black maw opened slowly and a voice faintly echoey in tone rang out.

"I only want what's mine. And you have a part of it."

"Wh-what's that?" Frisk asked, a gigantic head now staring down at him, white pupils gazing deeper and deeper into him as Frisk found himself sinking, going further into the endless black that was engulfing him-

And then he awoke, Fluttershy the Pegasus gently dabbing a cloth over his head as he sat up on her couch, glancing about her little cottage. "Wh-what happened?"

"Oh, Frisk, sweetie, you fainted in the middle of feeding the chickens outside. Is it too hot for you? I don't know why you always wear a long-sleeve shirt." Fluttershy sighed a little, waving a hoof in the air. "I mean, blue does bring out your eyes, but you must get very hot."

"No, it...it isn't that." Frisk muttered, holding a hand to his head as he cringed. "I keep having these bad dreams and I haven't slept well lately."

"...dreams?" Fluttershy murmured. "Hmm. You know, I think I know someone who could help with bad dreams." She offered with a gentle smile, clasping her hooves together and beaming.

And indeed, a quick letter from Spike was sent out, and Princess Luna of Equestria was soon back in Ponyville, happily meeting with Frisk as the tired, ragged-faced, scarcely-able-to-keep-his-eyes-open child moaned, rubbing his head as he laid on the couch in Fluttershy's home. Fluttershy handed him some golden flower tea, another very popular dish brought up from the Underground thanks to the kindhearted Toriel, and Luna thoughtfully looked him over, dark blue eyes gazing intently at him as Sans, who was also there to look after the kid, gave the kid a hot dog. Or rather, a hot cat.

"Ugghhh. I'm sorry, Sans. I don't feel like eating it."

"geez. ain't even hungry enough to have one of my specialties? now I KNOW somethin' ain't right with you." Sans said, shaking his bony head back and forth. "maybe a joke'll cheer you up. what do you call a guy who gets run over? tired."

Fluttershy, Luna and Frisk all slooooowly turned their heads to directly look at each other, then at Sans, saying absolutely nothing. "..."

"...wow, something IS wrong with you. not even a chuckle." Sans commented with a surprised look on his face.

"I can see his soul's aura. It is plagued with bad dreams. Something has a grip on him." She reasoned aloud. "Frisk, I ask of you. Tell me EVERYTHING thou dost remember of thy dreams. It's most imperative."

"I'm dreaming of these...amalgamates. Melted-together things, pieces of a person that used to be. They're called Memoryheads because they're...well, they're like living heads that are the embodiment of a memory of a man." Frisk said, his tone sounding just as exhausted as the child looked. "A man named Dr. Gaster. He used to be the Monster Kingdom's Royal Scientist...and he was Sans and Papyrus's big brother."

"Whatever happened to him?" Fluttershy softly inquired.

"He fell into his machine, into the time/space continuum and now's in pieces."

"what Frisk here means is that he's at a PIECE conference." Sans remarked wryly.

Many, many, MANY miles away, something stirred. A very furious growl turned into a roar as a cracked face snarled out high and loud enough to crack every glass window in Canterlot. Which it DID.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT BONEHEAD SAID THAT!"

"OW. OW. Sans, that joke was so bad it's physically hurting me, OWWW." Frisk moaned out, Luna whacking her head against the nearby wall over and over again, Fluttershy covering her face with one hoof as Sans nonchalantly shrugged.

"maybe you're right. guess I should leave and make sure you get some-"

"DON'T YOU DARE-"

"PIECE and quiet."

"OHHHHH." Frisk groaned, writhing on the couch as Sans exited the house, laughing uproariously as another pained groan echoed out from miles away in Canterlot.

"Ugggghhhhh. How detestible. He should put more backbone into his pu-" Princess Luna began to say before cringing. "Oh sonofa-"

"HA!" Sans laughed.

Unbeknownst to them, it wasn't Frisk who was in the most danger. No, that dubious honor went to Papyrus, who was hard at work in his new job as a guard for Princess Celestia in her palace at Canterlot. Well, "work" is a strong word. Because currently, he was, along with the other guards, enjoying a nice game of charades with her. Celestia was pantomining a clown to demonstrate the circus, though the guards couldn't quite pick up on that, least of all Papyrus. Then again, perhaps the other guards DID realize it, they just couldn't speak over Pap's VERY loud voice.

"OH! OH, YOU ARE A FLOWER! NO, NO WAIT, YOU ARE A PATIENT FROM AN INSANE ASYLUM! NO, NO WAIT! A MAGICIAN! YES, I AM CERTAIN YOU ARE A MAGICIAN! IS THE WORD MAGIC?"

Celestia chuckled a little, Papyrus happily bouncing up and down in the throne room as she cheerily smiled back, some of the other guards jabbing each other in the side, snickering a bit at his childish exeuberance. It was really quite adorable.

But then the room began to get dark and cold, a chill settling in as Celestia realized that she could see her breath right in front of her. She gasped, quickly looking around the room as the expanse all about her began to convert into utter shadows, and she narrowed her eyes. Was this Discord playing a prank? It couldn't be Sombra, he wasn't around anymore! What was going on?

"...PaPyRuS..." A voice whispered, its voice haunting and echoing as Papyrus stiffened in shock, Celestia looking over in his direction before inky blackness began to swell around him, Papyrus struggling to get free of the darkness that was engulfing him. He let out a gasp, trying to push the other guards away so they wouldn't get sucked in, Celestia racing towards him.

"NO! PRINCESS, STAY BACK! I DO NOT WISH YOU HARMED!" Papyrus insisted, the blackness carefully pinning his arms to his sides as a form rose out of the black, its face skeletal, one black crack running up its right eye, another running down towards its mouth on the left as it gazed over Papyrus, bony hand clasping Papyrus's cheek. "DO...DO I KNOW YOU?"

"You don't remember, Papyrus?" It spoke. "I remember everything about you. Everything."

Papyrus's mouth gaped open slightly, Celestia taking a step forward, eyes intently narrowed as her horn glowed. "You release him NOW. I will not allow you to harm an innocent."

"I only want what's mine." The being said. "I need...to make USE of you." It told Papyrus.

And with that, the inky blackness exploded outward like a bomb, Celestia reeling back along with the guards as she gasped, glancing around...

Papyrus was gone.

AN HOUR LATER...

Sans was calmly sitting on a bench in the park, leaning back and doing nothing. Just the way he liked things. Calmly sighing, he looked up at the sky, and the clouds idly passing by as he saw Papyrus approaching off in the distance, dressed in his normal attire and eagerly sitting down next to him. "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Papyrus asked Sans.

"well, i like to watch shapes in the clouds. that one looks like a flying dragon, see?" Sans said, pointing with a bony finger up at a draconic-shaped puffy cloud that looked like it was belching out 'flames', Papyrus nodding in agreement.

"OH, YES, IT DOES INDEED."

"and that lil' one over there looks like a mother duck, and the other ones after it are lil' ducklings."

"LIKE THAT CUTE LITTLE BIRD THAT LOVES TO CARRY PEOPLE OVER RIVERS?" Papyrus inquired.

"yeah. we gotta treasure that bird." Sans agreed with a calm, respectful nod.

"MAY I TRY ONE?"

"of course, paps." Sans said with a wink, Papyrus rubbing his long chin before pointing upward with a red-gloved hand.

"OOH! THAT ONE LOOKS LIKE A WOUNDED DERPY WITH SMOKE COMING OFF OF HER WINGS-"

KRAKKA-THROOOOOM! Derpy Hooves crashed hard into the market, a cry of "MY CABBAGES" echoing out through the air as a loud "Sorry' echoed out soon after, Derpy limping by them, angrily holding up an exploded mailbag, complete with the shredded remains of what had been a suspicious package and cake frosting and cabbages all over her body, Sans raising a nonexistent eyebrow as he looked her over.

"what happened?"

"It's a SICK world we live in with SICK PONIES!" Derpy shrieked, grumbling darkly as Papyrus shook his head back and forth.

"WHAT A SHAME. THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER SEND MAIL THROUGH THE POSTAL SYSTEM."

"yeah. i'm guessing that was a Boom Boom Cake of Pinkie Pie's."

"HOW CAN YOU TELL?"

"cuz she's got a real explosive personality."

Silence for a long, long time before Papyrus wryly remarked "...I HATE TO TELL YOU THIS, BROTHER, BUT YOUR JOKE JUST...BOMBED."

Sans stiffened a little, slowly turning his head, as if truly seeing Papyrus for the first time, his mouth agape in surprise as Papyrus put a hand on his shoulder...with incredible weight behind it. "you're not paps."

"NO...I'm not." The being that was not Papyrus said. "You know who I am, Sans. And you know why I'm here. You understand why."

"gaster, come on, he's just a child-" Sans began to say, Gaster's stolen form shaking its head back and forth solemnly.

"I'm not going to harm him anymore than I've harmed Papyrus. Or that I'll harm you. I only want what's mine." Gaster explained."Now come. It's time for all of us to be one big family, Sans. The way it should be." He intoned kindly, as Sans felt a large embrace engulf him, the shadows swallowing his form as he fell deeper, deeper, deeper into the abyssal black around him...

And then, within a few moments, there was only what appeared to be Sans on the bench as he made his way back towards Fluttershy's cottage. "now then...third time is the charm."

...

...Frisk was still on the couch, fast asleep as Luna held a hoof to his head, focusing intently, her lips slightly pursed. Fluttershy stood nearby, biting her lip as the light softly filtered in through the window, bathing over Frisk in soft golden light as Luna cringed.

"This is serious. An immense block is inside his mind. Whatever's inside him has placed a mental barrier that I cannot easily break through. I will need additional help, Fluttershy." Luna sighed at last, removing her hoof from Frisk's forehead before steepling her hooves, lying back in the chair she was sitting on. "He will have to be taken to Zecora."

"taken to ol' stripeybutt, huh?" Sans's voice rang out as they turned, seeing he was stepping out of the closet, Fluttershy gasping as she slightly jumped up in the air. "what? c'mon, Fluttershy. nothing wrong with a couple skeletons in your closet. everybody has 'em."

"I take it you could simply...shortcut your way to Zecora?" Princess Luna mused aloud as he looked Sans over, the skeleton giving a cute little wink, showing off a faintly royal blue glowing eye as Frisk was softly hovered through the air and over towards him. "However are you able to do that?"

"ahhh, blue magic runs in the family, really." Sans the Skeleton remarked with a shrug. "both my brothers got different mastery over it. But Paps's spirit's tied to the trait of Bravery, so his magic comes off more orange. Me, I'm patient, so mine's light blue." He remarked with a shrug, unzipping his blue jacket as the sleeping Frisk was caaaarefully lowered down, down, and soon, was perfectly positoned right in front of Sans's form. With a little smile, Sans zipped his jacket back up, Frisk now warmly tucked away in the jacket almost like a mother kangaroo with her baby joey, as Sans patted the sleeping child on the head. "theeeere we go. all snug as a bug in a rug."

"You've been waiting to do that to him for a while, haven't you?" Fluttershy asked with a smile. "I can tell."

Sans gave her a big grin. "oh, you've no idea." He said, reopening the closet. "i'll see you two later. got a lot to do." he remarked before popping into the closet again, Fluttershy smiling before suddenly stiffening up. Something hadn't been right. What had he said? "My magic's light blue".

...but Frisk had been surrounded in a royal blue light.

"Princess Luna, I think something terrible has just happened." She realized aloud, wheeling around and looking into Luna's eyes. "We need to find Ms. Toriel immediately."

Meanwhile, Frisk was still tucked away inside the jacket as Gaster-Sans calmly walked down the forest path, heading to the abandoned Castle of the Two Sisters, the old castle of Princess Luna and Celestia. The castle was long overgrown, its steeples crumbling and cracked with trees around it drooping and saddened, everything about it giving off the air of dejection and abandonment as Gaster's borrowed form approached the front of the castle and pushed the doors open. Little Frisk was still fast asleep, Gaster's stolen form looking quietly down at Frisk, biting into a lack of bony lip.

He felt guilt. Frisk had been nothing but kind and loving to monsters like him. He'd freed his kind, he'd given his brothers something to live for again. Such a dear child.

"I..." He hesitated, gently stroking Frisk's brown-haired head. He just looked so cute, all tucked away tight and warm and safe in his jacketed body. "...he's just a child..." He murmured.

But he wanted to be whole again so dearly. To just be himself. Before he'd only been able to hold onto the material world in little bits and pieces, barely able to manifest for more than five minutes. But now with Sans and Papyrus sampled...

And soon it would be three with Frisk. Out of everyone in the Underground, four had the strongest physical connection to him. He'd been scattered in pieces across the Underground, and had barely managed to scrape enough of himself together for this wild, desperate plan. He needed four souls, and the pieces of himself within them: Sans, Papyrus, Frisk and Alphys. With Papyrus, his physical form would become more stable. With Sans, his mind would get more stable. With Alphys, he could get back his Soul. And with Frisk would come his heart, his compassion. He needed that. He needed to feel again. To just love someone.

"You're only feeling remnants of a man who once was." He murmured to himself, gently taking Frisk's sleeping form out of his jacket and laying him on a table as his visage began to shift, growing taller and darker. "You don't truly feel guilty. All you feel is a shell. Intellectually, you know you should feel disgusted. But you don't truly feel it. With the child claimed, you will. With the child claimed, you will feel again. Be almost utterly whole again. It's everything you want, isn't it?"

He now stood tall, a large skeleton in a dark cloaked robe with a silver undershirt, his form lean and faintly thin. A black crack ran up his eye, another running down to his mouth from the other eye, his skeletal hands having large holes in the center as he gently laid one on Frisk's head. "Believe me." He spoke softly to Frisk. "I'm truly grateful. With this, I'll be whole again. And you'll never be alone." He offered, shadows beginning to rise around Frisk as his SOUL was exposed...

Gaster flinching as he reeled back, cringing as he clutched at his chest, feeling his remnant of a Soul, his pale imitation flinching. Damn. The soft light of Sans and Papyrus within him were objecting. They were almost utterly overpowering him. Perhaps he couldn't claim the child yet. He'd need more raw power. Perhaps Alphys would do. Her Soul was rather weak-willed in comparison, and would provide the boost needed.

Ah, well. For now he could at least do one thing with the child. Carefully lifting the child up, he placed him between the folds of his coat as he buttoned it up more, the little one nicely tucked away inside him as he softly enjoyed the gentle movements of Frisk turning ever-so-slightly in a peaceful slumber. Sighing, Gaster sat down against a nearby wall, and softly drifted off to sleep himself to join the child in dreamland...

TO BE CONTINUED...

#Undertale #undertales #My Little Pony #My Litte Pony Friendship is Magic #crossover #fanfiction #fanfic #adventure #wd gaster #gaster #Frisk #Sans

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olliethealright · 4 years ago

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Three Steps From Home - Update #1

trigger warnings: religious content, abusive relationship, mental health, slight self harm implications, conversion therapy

disclaimer: these are my own words and ideas, please do not use my words or ideas without permission from me.

Hi everyone! Today I’m going to do a lil update on one of my current WIPs, Three Steps From Home. I’m going to be talking about the first four chapters, aka the first 4500ish words. If you want a more detailed description of the book or the characters, my last post is the introduction to this project, so you can find more details there.

chapter one - casual acquaintances - 969 words

theme song - like or like like, by miniature tigers

In this chapter, we meet the point of view character, Jude, as well as his love interest, Aaron. This chapter is mainly to introduce Jude’s voice and worldview, as well as how he sees Aaron without really knowing him. The inciting incident comes near the end of the chapter, when Aaron sits down to talk to Jude for the first time and the two strike up a conversation and Jude tries (and fails) to make a move.

“Even my mother’s Saturday night bingo group, who hated outsiders like they hated blasphemy, wouldn’t stop talking about you, or ‘that boy Aaron from the coffee shop,’ as they called you. ‘The cute one with the accent’. On those nights, I sipped spiked lemonade and passed out homemade cookies and tried not to hang onto their every word whenever you came into conversation”

“I supposedly worked from home, but I couldn’t stand home, so I worked from your coffee shop and pretended I wasn’t just another kid with a pile of student debt and a semi-failing career, living with his mother like an absolute loser. I pretended I didn’t watch you every time the production line of presentations got dull, every time the words swam from the page and my brain turned the texture of the dollops of whipped cream you put in hot chocolate”

chapter two - microwave dinners - 1347 words

theme song - untitled, by EDEN

This is the chapter where we meet Jude’s mom, who is honestly a piece of work. Jude is 21 at the start of the story, living with his mother as he saves money and continues to take computer science classes. His mother’s religion is a big source of tension in the story, and their unhealthy relationship is the centerpiece of this chapter. Jude comes home to find his mother watching a televangelist program, which eventually leads them to a fight, implying his mother’s wish to send him to conversion therapy, as well as alluding to Jude’s dad, who is not present in the story for unknown reasons.

“It was my dad who insisted on naming me Jude. He said it was biblical, but not overly so, not like the names my mother had picked. He always told me I was named for the book of Jude so I would remember what would happen if I lost my faith. Really, he named me Jude because it was near impossible for my mother’s native Spanish tongue to get right, and he liked watching her frustrated, he liked helping her get there”

“As it was, we walked on eggshells. My dad was no longer there to be a buffer between her anger and me. His name hovered in the air between us like a bomb, every time I brought him up, she would cross herself and mutter something like a prayer and get angrier by the second. I made myself scarce in hopes she would forget that her no longer perfect child still lurked under her roof like an unwanted animal, taking up the space the man she once loved did not”

chapter three - tea at midnight - 1042 words

theme song - perfume, by mehro

This chapter is very cute and wholesome, it balances out the sad feels you get from chapter two. In this chapter, Jude asks Aaron to hang out, and the two end up at a 24 hour tea shop, where they stay and talk until they have to get ready for work the next morning. There’s not much to this chapter events wise, but it does mark their first dateish thing, and it develops their characters a lot. It’s definitely one of my favorite chapters because of how light and dreamy it is.

“Maybe it was because I picked up a Mandarin-to-English dictionary to prove my point, but you obviously didn’t buy my story. You watched me over the corner of your fourth novel-in-progress, eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind the rims of your glasses.

You glanced at your watch and sighed. ‘You know I’m going to have to kick you out in four minutes, yeah? Is there something I can get you?’”

“We sat in the cafe until we had created an impressive mound of dirty tea cups and the morning sun kissed our cheeks. We only left when we had to get ready for work. I was exhausted, an important afternoon meeting I had neglected to prepare for loomed like a distant storm cloud, but for the first time in a long while, I was happy, and I think you were too”

chapter four - circles - 1155 words

theme song - they’ll like me when im sick, by flatsound

This is my least favorite chapter in the book so far, and I’ll probably rework it, so everything in this part is subject to massive change (even more than the rest of this post). Basically, this is the chapter where both Jude and the reader get the sense that Aaron has problems he doesn’t talk about. Jude comes into Aaron’s coffee shop at his usual time and notices that Aaron is kind of out of it. Aaron’s coworker eventually convinces Jude to take Aaron home, and Jude spends the rest of the day trying to figure out what's wrong (spoiler, he doesn’t figure it out). This chapter also has a bit of a reflective aspect, as Jude criticizes himself for the things he should have done better.

Again, this chapter is a mess and I don’t know how to explain what happens well. Sorry about that lol.

“When I opened the door, your coworker’s eyes widened in a look that demanded attention. She jerked her head at you twice, a spectacularly unsubtle gesture, and then pointed out the door and in the direction of your apartment”

“Fifteen minutes later, you slipped into the booth next to me instead of across the table, breaking our little routine for the second time that day. You pressed your back into my shoulder and brought one knee to your chest, your other foot dangling over the edge of the seat. I squeezed your hand under the table (always under the table) and tried not to worry”

Well, there it is! I hope you enjoyed this update if you’ve made it this far! As always, let me know if you have any questions about the story. I hope you have a nice day!

-ollie

#threestepsfromhome #book #writing #writer #autor #shortstory #story #novel #nanowrimo #fun #nanowrimo2020

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animefan299110 · 5 years ago

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My RWBY Future Predictions

Backstory: Salem and her goonies are defeated (with the exception of Emerald, who realized her mistake to trust Cinder and aided Team RWBY and their comrades) and Ozpin’s soul has left Oscar’s body.

10 years later...

Ren:

Ren walks around the remade and repoluated Kuroyuri. He smiles at how his childhood town was returned to it’s former glory.

???: Hey Ren.

Ren turns to see his wife running towards him and smiles.

Ren: Hey Nora; how are things on the south end?

Nora: Great! You good on the north end?

Ren: Yes, no sign of Grimm anywhere.

Nora: Great. By the way, there’s something I want to tell you...something important.

Ren: What is it?

Nora: Ren...I’m pregnant.

Ren: That’s...That’s incredible!

Ren wraps her arms around her and spins her around.

Weiss:

Weiss (riding in a car while talking on her Scroll): And how are our factories in the south, Mr. Coal?

Mr. Coal: Doing well, Mrs. Schnee. Production is right on schedule and the workers are reported to have been well treated.

Weiss: Glad to hear. Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Coal. Tell Flynt I said hi.

Mr. Coal: Will do, Mrs. Schnee. (hangs up)

The car arrives at a lavish mansion. Weiss steps out and smiles at how well she’s maintained her life. Upon entering, she is greeted by a butler with white hair and a kind smile.

Weiss: Good afternoon, Klein.

Klein: Good afternoon to you, my dear.

???: Mother!

Weiss looks up the stairs to see a little girl running down the grand stairs. She smiles and swoops the girl into her arms.

Weiss: Hello Willow, how was your day?

Willow: Great. And yours?

Weiss: Things are well with the company. Did your father behave himself today?

???: Yes, he did.

Weiss turns to see her husband smiling at her and combing his fingers through his blue hair.

Weiss: Oh really?

Neptune: Yep; didn't look at any women at all today. Besides, (walks up to Weiss) the girl I need to look at is you.

Weiss gives a small smile and pecks him on the lips.

Willow: Mother, will you be able to come to my ballet recital this tomorrow?

Weiss: Yes, I was able to push some things over and I'll be able to there with your father.

Willow: Yah!

Blake:

Blake sighs as she writes out her speech for the next United Races meeting, a organization comprised of representatives from each race to discuss and aid those in need. Blake helps to represent Faunus and their rights. Though they still had a ways to go, relations between humans and Faunus have gotten better since the death of Salem.

The sound of her window opening catches her attention. She looks up just in time to see her husband leap through the open window.

Blake: sigh Would it kill you to use the front door?

Sun: Give me credit; at least I'm not crashing through the roof. Anyways, I thought I'd bring you lunch (holds up a picnic basket) and (turns around to show a little girl with cat ears clinging to his shirt) lil' Melanie wanted to see you.

Melanie: Hi Mommy.

Blake (smiling): Hi Sweetie.

Sun opens the basket and pulls out a bento box and hands it to Blake. He then pulls out a sandwich for Melanie before getting a bento box for himself.

Sun: So how are things going with that speech?

Blake: Almost done; just have to make a few revisions. I should still be able to join you and Melanie for dinner at Mom and Dad's.

Melanie: Yah! Dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's!

Sun and Blake chuckle/giggle at their daughter's cuteness.

Sun: And Emerald is set to be your escort?

Blake: Yes (her features sadden a bit) I feel bad for her, though. She still feels as if she needs to redeem herself for all that she's done. Personally, I feel like she already redeemed herself by helping us defeat Salem.

Sun: When she feels that she has redeemed herself, we'll be there for her. (Blake nods in agreement) By the way, we received a letter in the mail from Ilia. Seems like she and Coco are doing well in Vale.

Blake: I'm just glad she was able to find someone who could make her happy.

Sun: Just like you.

Blake: Yes.

She walks over to Sun and kisses him lovingly.

Jaune:

At the newly built Beacon Academy...

Jaune: Remember, being a leader means having to look out for your teammates. You also need to interact with them; find things to do that you all enjoy. Having good relations with your teammates can help strengthen the bond between you and the others.

The bell rings for the end of classes.

Jaune: Okay; remember. On Monday, I want your journals handed in. I want to see what activities and interactions you and your have done.

The class leaves and Jaune turns to the blackboard to wipe off the chalk.

???: Nice end to the lesson, Professor Arc.

Jaune (not turning around): Ah; Professor Xiao Long. I take it Combat Training went well today?

Yang: Yep; knew that pack of Boarbatusks would be useful one day.

Jaune (smirking): Always one to make things harder for the first years, huh?

Yang: They need to learn quick. Otherwise, they won't learn at all.

Jaune (turning around): Whatever you say, Ya- (stops when he sees Yang wearing something similar to the combat outfit she wore as a student)

Yang: Yeah; I figured I'd throw on something retro. A little blast from the past. So what do you think?

Jaune: What do I think? (places both hands on the table behind Yang, trapping her) I think we better get out of here before my fiance sees you.

Yang laughs as Jaune kisses her neck.

Jaune: It looks great, Sunshine.

Yang: Knew you'd like it, Lover Boy.

They kiss passionately with Jaune's hands grabbing Yang's butt cheeks. Yang responds by wrapping her legs around his waist and running her fingers through his hair.

???: Ahem.

Jaune and Yang stop their kissing and look at the front door to see Glynda Goodwitch, the headmistress of Beacon Academy, glaring at them.

Glynda: While I do not mind if you two show affection for each other, I will ask that you do not show it in the classrooms, even when students aren't around.

Jaune: S-Sorry professor. Won't happen again.

Glynda: Hmph. (walks away)

Jaune: phew That was close.

Yang: Yeah; maybe we should take this somewhere more...private. I know a nice apartment we can use.

Jaune: Well then, (holds out his hand) lead the way.

Ruby:

Ruby walked through the woods after taking care of a Grimm problem in Mistrel. There were still Grimm roaming the land, even after Salem's defeat. But they were few and scarce, so the jobs were becoming easier.

She soon sees a house with a garden. As she comes out of the woods, she smiles when she sees the door opened.

???: Mommy!

A six year old boy named Dipper and a three old girl named Pyrrha rush out. Ruby scoops both of them up and hugs them.

Pyrrha: Mommy, I ate a bug today.

Ruby: Oh really? Does that mean your dad's been cooking again? (whispers) Don't tell him I said that.

???: I heard that.

Ruby's husband walks out the door, leans down, and kisses Ruby.

???: Hi Ruby.

Ruby: Hi Oscar. (looks down at their kids) Hey you two, why don't you both get ready for dinner?

Dipper and Pyrrha: Okay.

As the kids race into the house, Oscar hugs Ruby into his chest, which she gladly returns.

Oscar: So how was the job?

Ruby: Good; the Grimm were easy to deal with.

Ruby then notices Oscar looking down at her and smiling.

Ruby: What is it?

Oscar: Just counting my blessings. (he kisses her) I love you, Rubes.

Ruby: I love you too, Cookie.

100 notes · View notes

makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 230: League of Thots

Previously on BnHA: We learned all about Twice’s past, which was a lot like Oliver Twist, if you’re like me and you never actually read Oliver Twist and only have extremely vague memories of watching one of the movie versions as a kid and seeing some poor wretched child asking for more oatmeal and falling in with some lovable scalawags. Although I’m pretty sure Oliver Twist never hit a dude with a motorcycle and made a bunch of clones of himself because he was lonely and then the clones all tried to kill each other. But like, other than that, I still kinda got that vibe, idk. Anyway so Twice is great and we all love him and feel sorry for him, and the Metahuman Liberation Army ripped his mask off because they’re dicks, and then they broke his arms because see re: the part where they’re dicks. But once his arms were broken, Twice, who’d been having an ongoing identity crisis due to not being sure whether he was one of his own clones, realized he couldn’t be a clone since he was still alive and hadn’t melted into a big blob after taking all that damage. So then he got all empowered, and he made like a dozen fresh new clones of himself, and now they’re gonna fuck up the MLA’s shit hopefully, and good riddance.

Today on BnHA: The League of Twices surges forth to do battle with the forces of evil and it’s my favorite thing ever. What started out as a dozen quickly multiplies exponentially -- we’re talking literal exponential growth here -- until Re-Destro’s Army of 116,000 people actually find themselves outnumbered. Up in his tower, Re-Destro is all “gee Skeptic you sure did fuck up spectacularly :)” and Skeptic quickly makes himself scarce, leaving Giran all on his own to antagonize RD about how royally screwed he is. Back in the thick of things, Dabi continues to attack The Night King, but it turns out he’s able to create new ice from just about any water source, so that complicates things a bit. Meanwhile Dabi is apparently starting to roast himself with his own quirk, which is very interesting and a huge clue as to how he came to be where he is, all scarred up and presumably Presumed Dead, and it’s all very intriguing. But before we can ponder that much, we cut to Ujiko, who’s getting tired of watching the League kick ass so effortlessly and decides to throw a Gigantomachia-shaped wrench into the mix just for the hell of it, waking the big guy early so he can join in on the fun. Well you won’t see me complaining omg.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a couple of ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

oh my god

first of all, y’all know I love it when Horikoshi really gets into the nitty-gritty of how someone’s quirk works and hammers out all the little stipulations and provisions about what they can and can’t do, etc. but then to do it with this adorable little chibi Twice sketch is almost too much. we’re only on the first panel here; if this is an indicator of what the rest of the chapter is gonna be like, fair warning that I will probably have a number of little fangirling breakdowns

anyhoo, so this definitely clears some things up. the translation could be a little clearer, but I’m gonna take this to mean that he has a two-clone limit, period, and can’t make more than two of any person or object until the existing clones disappear. meaning that this can’t actually be used to create entire armies, which is a smart move on Horikoshi’s part in terms of keeping him from getting too op. this is especially important because we know his clones can use the same quirks as the original. so yeah, that could potentially get out of hand real fast without a few limiters in place

but! there is one exception to the “only two” rule, which we’re now seeing in action! a quirk hack, if you will. which is that if he clones himself, each of those clones is then capable of using the same Doubling quirk under the same rules. so each clone can make an additional two clones. which is dope. like, past a certain point, you actually have to start using math to keep up with him. and that part is in fact pretty motherflippin’ powerful, even if each duplicate is weaker than the last. it’s definitely not something you want to fuck with. I would sure hate to be a person, or army of people, who have done just that and are now going to have to feel his wrath. oh man

so because this is a Flashback Arc we are now cutting to another flashback, but this time a more recent one involving the Shigaraki Squad all hanging out in the ol’ Villain Shack

-- holy shit

okay but this is so fucking smart, though. these guys keep thinking of things that would never, ever occur to me because try as I might, I just can’t get on the same level of thinking outside the box that they’re at. obviously they’re a good deal more primed to think of creative applications of their own quirks, having lived with said quirks for most of their lives. but still

anyways, look at me, I’m practically beside myself being impressed even though Twice wasn’t actually able to do anything lol. but just, even the fact that they tried is impressive to me. leave no avenue unexplored. god this manga is so good

anyway so now we’re cutting back to the present, and Twice is thinking that he wants to repay his friends for accepting him. “that’s all I ever think about!”

weekly reminder that Twice is in fact the nicest guy in the series. and it’s all the more impressive since he lacked any kind of good influence when he was growing up. dude is a fucking saint if you think of it like that

lol. well no one ever said saints couldn’t be violent sometimes

so now the MLA goons who were formerly watching on the sidelines are all “oh shit” and they’re rushing in to try to help contain the situation

only to be confronted with this

you see?? math. Twice to the nth power. holy shit

also the title/attack name Sad Man’s Parade is so good and evocative that I assumed it must be a reference to something, but when I googled it just now all I got was links to articles and reviews of this very chapter. but I still think it must be a reference though. we’ve had a lot of them recently, including last week’s title, which as @herongale pointed out to me was a reference to The Killing Joke. so if any smart person can figure this one out, please let me know. it sounds like a song or something maybe

anyway I just clicked to the next page and it’s the most badass thing I’ve ever seen so let me just share that with y’all

things I like:

Twice’s face

that last panel. just. that

Twice holding Toga all protectively fffsdfasd

and did I mention that face though. holy hecking fuck my lovable lil LoV mascot is suddenly all grown up and making me feel things. going after all of my weak spots at once! protecting his friends: check. all scuffed up and covered in blood all sexy-like: double check. and last but not least, that look of utter, fearless determination: checkcheckmotherfuckincheck

jesus christ. first Giran and now you. more like League of Thirst, fml. what was that he was saying in the previous chapter about his scary looks?? you know what Twice, you can fuck right off with that noise. I can’t believe you were holding out on us this entire time

anyway so now here’s Re-Destro to chill me out before I completely lose my shit

ah, nothing like that arrogant pointy mug to bring me back down to reality right quick. really can’t wait until someone knocks this guy down off his high horse

and now he’s turning and casually remarking to Skeptic that it’s rare to see him fail. and holy shit though, there’s something about this scene that just sent a chill down my spine

and why did I get flashbacks to that poor lil dead mouse guy just now, though. the thing about Re-Destro is he’s the kind of guy who can and will be all smiles right up to and including the point where he happily snaps your neck for having displeased him. and that is scary as fuck. just look how quickly Skeptic noped the fuck out of there

look at him omg

he sure got the message right away, didn’t he? better go fix things right the fuck now if you enjoy being alive, dude

holy shit. he is genuinely scary. that one panel there may actually be scarier than anything AFO ever did. I suddenly had a rush of appreciation for Overhaul of all people, yes you heard me right, because at least he was just unabashedly Straight Up Evil. none of this pretending to be all nice with this cold dead look in your eyes bullshit

just, I really don’t like how it just seems like he could snap at any time and you’re never quite sure what the final trigger might actually be. it’s terrifying. but I guess that’s the kind of vibe you’ve got to have if you’re looking to be a villain so bad that the actual villains are fighting against you lol

now Giran is straight up not giving a fuck again, and acting like he’s not tied to a chair with one remaining hand and trapped in a room with this profoundly unsettling man, and as usual I love it

you just keep on being insolent and sarcastic you sexy piece of shit. you’re doing great

lol now Re-Destro says they’ll overcome quantity with quality, and wow. that may just be the most delusional thing this asshole has said thus far. have we even been reading the same arc?? are you really trying to say that your Metahuman Army of Jackasses is in any way even in the same league as Tomura’s merry band of ragtag prodigies? just go ahead and admit that they’re wiping the floor with you

and as if to prove my point

tbh I’m genuinely starting to feel like any one member of the League could singlehandedly take out Re-Destro’s entire force. and they haven’t even introduced you to Gigantomachia yet!! my god. RD’s horribly discomforting general vibe aside, this arc is like watching a horror movie play out where none of the victims realizes how screwed they are until it’s too late. and also you’re rooting for the killers because they’re likable and sexy

I do have to hand it to Parka here though because he’s somehow not dead yet in spite of all that, which is legitimately impressive

Dabi even says that his ice is almost gone. you’re living on borrowed time Baskin Robbins

ooh now we’re getting a quick panel of Compress doing his thing while Dabi carries on

Compress are we getting your flashbacks next. I can only begin to imagine what kind of tragic and relatable things you’ve been through and how hot you probably are too underneath that mask. how long until you’re my new favorite character. I’m onto this arc and its games by this point, Horikoshi. you and your motherfucking League of Thots ffff

Dabi is all “why do I have to help you?” lol. classic Dabi

eh what’s this

before I click to the next page, I’m just going to assume he’s talking about the twelve million Twices headed their way

yep

new favorite panel alert

oh my god. this is amazing. more of him to love

LMAO

FUCK YOU AND YOUR CAREFREE SELF-AWARE MANGA HORIKOSHI KOUHEI. I CAN’T LEGALLY MARRY A SHOUNEN MANGA SERIES SO WHY ARE YOU TORTURING ME LIKE THIS

and Compress is all “wow that sounds like something from a hero story,” and then we’re cutting to another Twice panel so that we can’t see him turning and winking at the audience

Twice says that the League are his only friends in the world and that they’re all precious to him. actually, he didn’t say it so much as he straight up yelled it. nicest guy in the fucking world I’m telling you. what a good egg. what a chaotic good little boy scout

lmao now he’s drunk on power and ambition

lmao go for it. THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER

(ETA: also I just realized what I said before about him not being able to make an army is clearly blatantly untrue, since even though he has the two-clone limit, that hardly matters if there are like 17,000 of him and each of them can clone two other people. he truly is a beast.)

oh my god

are you telling me that you guys are kicking so much ass that it’s actually backfiring on you. “that was such a good plan that we had, but unfortunately we didn’t take into account that we’re straight up gangstas who kick ass and take names”

hell, if the Army’s all gone by the time G-Man gets here, you can just sic all the clones on him and see if it finally gets you somewhere! I’m past the point of putting anything past you guys now. I’m pretty sure you can do anything. I’m glad you’re on our side. oh shit wait

anyway so Compress is checking his dandy pocket watch and says Giganto should be there in one hour and five minutes

are they taking travel time into account?? or wait, I guess Ujiko can just warp him over to their location once he finally wakes up. right

Twice is telling them all that Toga’s in trouble and needs help! yessss help her. I got so caught up in your tremendous badassery that I almost forgot

HEY WHAT THE

RUDE. WHO DID THIS

oh go figure

you know it really is incredible how quickly Horikoshi can get me back on that “so are we going to get any Dabi flashbacks” train though lol. I really should know better by this point. quash those hopes. this manga is not a charity; we don’t give out flashbacks for free just like that

and yet. my brain says no but my heart says “pleasepleaseplease”

so now Ben & Jerry’s is saying that he can also control the temperature of the ice. um, what? it’s already ice; how much colder can it possibly get? unless you’re talking about making it warmer, in which case I hate to break it to you but then it’s water and not ice, and you obviously can’t control water so

oh wait he just means that he can use his ice to freeze other stuff and make More Ice. oh

RIGHT, DABI??

and now Klondike here is launching into some kind of speech, oh joy

hoohhhhh boy

[sidles up to Dabi] hey there boy. that last part sound like anything you’ve heard before? jog any memories for you there bud? provoke any thoughts? spark any reveries??

Dabi you’re really one hell of a closed book, you know that? fuck my life

(ETA: but also! so the real colors of the MLA finally come out, huh. for all their talk of freeing people from oppression, they’re no different from the people they want to overthrow; it’s just that they want to oppress the people who don’t have quirks, or whose quirks are “weak.” no doubt the original Destro had a similar philosophy. can’t imagine quirkless people making out too well in this brave new world of theirs. in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if there was eventually a mass genocide of anyone quirkless. it would get real dark real fast.)

oh shit

everybody sHUT UP, WE’RE GETTING DETAILS ABOUT DABI’S QUIRK AND ABOUT HIS SCARS AHSLDFJASLK

okay first of all, !!!@KLK!L!!!LK!”!!!GGKK

and second, Horikoshi continues the trend of putting the brakes on the League’s powers getting out of control, even as he shows how much they can still kick ass when unleashed to their fullest potential. that’s a hell of a balance to strike

and third, !LJ!L!!!!”!”“!DSFLSDIW for reals though because this is the first we’ve ever gotten as far as actual details regarding those scars and their possible origins, and holy shit but I can’t. finally some more info on the mysterious house elf

and meanwhile Compress is sitting in a mess of melted and frozen Twices, and thinking that it would be great if they could have Haagen-Dazs face off against Gigantomachia. but like, the way he says that kind of implies that he doesn’t think he’s gonna last that long lol. which I’m in agreement with. Dabi you can go ahead and take this popsicle fucker out now

-- !!?!!

okay Horikoshi you can’t just CUT TO UJIKO LIKE THAT WITHOUT WARNING you ass. give me a sec to brace myself first would ya

and poor little John standing there in the corner. John-kun ;_; god that’s so fucked up to just draw him chilling there all but forgotten until he’s actually needed

and what do you mean “if you were to die here.” underestimating them much? but if you want to toss them a bone though sure go ahead

so does this mean he’s going to unleash another High End?? because I’m all out of puns for those, so I’ll have to come up with a new shtick and I can’t just do that off the cuff you know

oh, nope. even better!

yooooooo things about to get lit up in the club omgggggggg

YESSSSSSS

okay first of all is he literally uprooting fucking trees just by waking up from his nap slkjdlfffff how many more ways can Horikoshi come up with to show us how much of a fucking beast this guy is. holy fuck

and second, YESSSSSSSSS. THAT’S RIGHT YOU ARMY MOTHERFUCKERS! PREPARE TO TASTE SOME PAIN. JUST LOOK AT THAT. HE’S GONNA STIR UP SOME CALAMITIES AND SHIT. ALL YOU FUCKERS GONNA DIE, AND I’LL BE RIGHT HERE, WATCHING CONTENTEDLY AND CAPSLOCKING ABOUT IT

hahaha this arc is making me want to be a villain. I can’t help it. they make it look like so much fun. shit

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 230 #twice (bnha)#dabi #mr. compress #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I like how tomura vanished off the face of the earth after disintegrating all those redshirts #did he actually fall asleep #you're missing out on all the fun kiddo #calamities are stirring and your mascot made 80 thousand copies of himself #I guess he's just resting up for the final battle with re-destro once everything else is destroyed #that's gonna be good #though part of me hopes giran gets to deal the final blow #that would be the cherry on top of this perfect arc #either way I'm looking forward to it

113 notes · View notes

wordtotherose · 5 years ago

Note

#1 for the kiss prompt? Also i wouldn’t mind some more routine kisses as that casual domestic shit really gets me hahaha. Love your writing !!

This is set in my ‘Together We’re Golden’ series and features some of my ocs from there, you don’t need to have read the series to understand though. Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

1. breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths & 7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

Crowley hadn’t expected just how tired he would be when looking after their god-daughter for a week. Mrs Scott was currently in hospital with her wife who was recovering after having her appendix removed. The Scotts had arrived on their doorstep with Anthonia half-asleep in Mrs Scott’s arms, red-hair farmer. Crowley had taken the child from her and here they were a day later having just dropped Tony off at school. Aziraphale had made her twice her normal amount of lunch, she was rightly being spoiled by them.

Crowley is sorely tempted to go back to bed, school mornings were cruel in how early they required people to wake up. But Aziraphale is tugging him by his hand to the sofa so Crowley follows. The angel pushes him onto the cushions, where he lands with little grace, and then sits in his lap, already removing Crowley’s glasses. Crowley lets him, dropping his hands to the angel’s thighs and his head against the back of the sofa.

“How do they do this every morning?” Crowley whines, closing his eyes against the sunlight streaming in behind him.

“Practice, my dear,” is Aziraphale’s simple response.

There are fingers trailing over Crowley’s throat and then his collarbones. He doesn’t bite back the flicker of a smile in response. “Too tired to do any metaphysical shenanigans, angel. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for that, ever,” Aziraphale says, resolute. “And so am I, anyway. I just…like touching.”

“Oh well,” Crowley tips his head back up to grin at him full-force, “in that case, go ahead.”

Aziraphale smiles back and leans in for a kiss. Crowley leans forward into it. Lazy and slow. They kiss until the house phone starts to ring in the kitchen and Aziraphale pulls away an inch, keeping close enough for their lips to brush both by his own free will and the hand Crowley has against the nape of his neck.

“It could be the Scotts,” he murmurs but doesn’t make any move to actually get up and answer the thing.

“What a romantic thing to say right now, love. Thanks,” Crowley teases, breathing in Aziraphale’s affectionately exasperated huff in another kiss.

The phone stops ringing eventually and Crowley can feel Aziraphale relax again, his fingers starting to trail up Crowley’s chest, wandering as they always do with the love of finding comfort in touch. Then it starts up again. Aziraphale tenses so much he pinches Crowley’s side accidentally. Crowley groans in annoyance and prods the angel.

“Come on, we ought to get it.”

“Oh, right. Thank you.”

Aziraphale follows Crowley into the kitchen.

“Hello?” Crowley kicks his feet up onto the table, pulling the landline’s wire taught in order to stay sitting at their table; Aziraphale smacks his ankle and Crowley drops his feet to another chair instead. “Who is it?”

“Is this uh,” there’s the sound of a mouse being clicked and paper shuffled, someone murmurs something in the background, “oh, right sorry. Is this Mr Fell speaking?”

“No, he’s busy.”

“Right, who’s this then?”

“The name’s Crowley,” Crowley says a touch too cheerfully, Aziraphale raises his brow at him in question so he shrugs back. “And who might you be?”

“Mr Ward, I’m the headteacher at–”

Crowley sits up, holding his hand out to fight off Aziraphale now reaching for the phone. “Is Tony alright? What’s happened?”

“Crowley, give me the phone,” Aziraphale hisses, Crowley shushes him.

“There’s been a lick of trouble, is all. She says her uh parents are out of town, unavailable to come in?”

“They’re in hospital, yeah.” Crowley says, not liking the man’s tone one bit.

Aziraphale in turn has given up, thankfully, trying to take the phone and instead has pulled Crowley’s feet back up onto the chair. He’s tying the shoe laces of the boots he’s just miracled onto Crowley’s feet in an effort to get them on their way quicker.

“Anyway, we have here that you’re her godfather?”

“We’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Oh, you’re bringing your wife?”

Crowley and Aziraphale look to each other at the same time, both absolutely baffled and not even faintly amused considering they’d dropped Tony off at school scarcely an hour ago. “No, I most certainly am not. I’m bringing Mr Fell, he’s just become available.”

“Oh.”

Crowley hangs up the phone.

***

They do in fact get there in five minutes with no-one worse for wear. Not even Aziraphale is of the mind to complain about Crowley’s driving.

“Do you think she’s alright? Why didn’t he say what the matter is? Surely that means it’s bad!”

Crowley waits on the pavement for Aziraphale to catch up with him before replying.

“You’re fretting, angel. She’ll be fine. It’s Tony, when is she ever not fine?”

“Often, Crowley! Often! You know how she hates being told off, oh I hope they’ve not confiscated her bracelet. Then what is she meant to fiddle with to keep calm?”

That is a fair point and one that makes Crowley spit out his next words through gritted teeth. “We’re going to be having some serious words with them if they have, trust me.”

They get to the office before Aziraphale can lend his own ominous threats to the pot. Crowley holds the door open for Aziraphale to pass by, knowing that they’ll want to play to their strengths to intimidate the staff. The headteacher is waiting for them. A dull grey suit and white shirt. Slightly greasy, short blond hair. Aziraphale marches right up to the man, all business and none of the gentleness that the angel normal exudes. Crowley saunters up behind him, slightly slower, and clasps his hands behind his back as he hovers over his angel’s shoulder. He glares through his sunglasses at the man who, appropriately, looks a little knocked off-centre.

“Mr Ward, I suppose?” Aziraphale asks and then barrells on without waiting for an answer. “Where’s Anthonia?”

“And you must be Mr Fell. I talked to your friend on the phone.”

Ward holds out a hand for Aziraphale to shake. Aziraphale doesn’t even glance at it. Crowley feels a surge of pride, letting his lips tick up at the corner. It seems to unsettle the headteacher further. Good.

“Anthonia.” Aziraphale repeats.

“Just this way.” Mr Ward drops his hand and leads them through to a small office.

A little sign on the door reads ‘Headteacher Ward’ in a slightly cursive font. Mr Ward walks in and sits behind his desk, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale to see Anthonia sitting in a too-big chair all on her own. She looks up for a brief second to see who they are before looking back down at her shoes. She smiles at her swinging legs, fingers deftly working along the opposite hand’s, pinching the ends of her fingers on her left hand and then vice versa over and over. Aziraphale isn’t the best with kids but he will be damned if he doesn’t protect his god-daughter so he takes up a defensive stance between the teacher’s desk and Anthonia. He keeps his back to Ward.

Crowley on the other hand is great with kids and instantly drops to Anthonia’s level in a crouch, schooling all simmering anger off his features and lowering his sunglasses down his nose. Anthonia doesn’t look up to meet his eyes but she’s still smiling that little relieved grin. She taps his kneecap with her foot twice and then leaves it there.

“You alright, lil’ flower?” he asks softly, slowly covering her ankle where her sock covers with his hand; he squeezes when she doesn’t pull away.

She nods, eyes flicking up briefly to land on his lowered sunglasses then back down. “Yeah.”

“Wanna tell us what happened, petal?” Aziraphale asks, dropping a hand onto Crowley’s shoulder where Anthonia can see, her smile grows, her shoulders relaxing a little more.

“Got yelled at by Miss Jackson.”

“What for?” Crowley again.

“Didn’t wanna work with Megan and them lot.”

Crowley breathed through his flare of anger. Aziraphale did not.

“Is this true, Mr Ward?” Aziraphale snaps, his hand leaving Crowley’s shoulder as he turns around.

“She shouted at another student and then refused to complete the assigned work, yes. It was a planned english lesson where students were assigned groups to work in to create a piece of persuasive writing. She refused to sit with her group and then yelled at Megan and Miss Jackson when her wants were not catered to.” Mr Ward crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair in a decisive manner that reminded the supernatural beings in the room of a certain archangel.

“They always make me do all the work! And they’re mean to me!” Tony spoke up, clenching her hands into fists and glaring over Crowley’s shoulder for an impressively long time whilst she spoke.

“Stop talking back, your disrespect will get you into much more trouble!” Mr Ward snaps back.

Crowley gives her ankle another squeeze before letting go. Sliding his glasses back into place he stands to face the man.

“Am I correct in my understanding that there have been multiple recorded incidents of bullying from Megan?” he asks.

“They’re little girls. There’s always falling outs.”

“No,” Aziraphale says, “that’s not what he’s asking.”

Mr Ward rolls his eyes subtly before answering. “Yes, there are recorded incidents.”

“And yet Tony was still assigned to the same group as her tormentor? You see nothing wrong with that?”

“They’re children, Mr Crowley. They’ll get over it in a week and be best friends.”

Crowley tamped down a derisive snort. “I’m going to take her home, Zira. You okay to stay and sort this out?”

Aziraphale’s smile was beatific in its sincerity. “Go for it, my dear.”

Crowley didn’t even think about it before he tilted his head down for Aziraphale to easily press a kiss just above the bridge of his sunglasses. The wave of hate-fueled wants that rocketed off Mr Ward at the domestic affection between them was both a punch in the gut and not a surprise at all.

“Just wait for me to get home before you call the Scotts,” Aziraphale carries on, completely oblivious.

Crowley glares at Ward. “‘Course, angel.”

Anthonia has already gathered up her coat and bag, brought with her which suggested that they’d been planning on sending her home before Crowley had even suggested it. He waits at the door whilst she gives Aziraphale’s arm a grateful squeeze.

“Come on, Tony, we’ll video call your mums when Zira catches up with us, yeah?”

Another wave of very different want rolls off Ward at Crowley’s mention of the Scotts and that is not acceptable. He holds a hand out to motion for Tony to stay in the doorway, which she does, smart kid, whilst he takes the steps at a slightly inhuman speed to stand in front of Aziraphale. The angel, also incredibly perceptive when it comes to Crowley, rests a supportive hand between Crowley’s shoulder blades and lets him take the lead.

“You got something on your mind there, Ward?” Crowley asks, voice low and dangerous.

Mr Ward frowns. “I have no idea what you’re on about?”

“Is that so? Because, you see, we were told of how accepting this school was. How welcoming it is to families of all sorts.” Another conflicting wave of ‘want to teach these men just how wrong they are’ mixed with some very dehumanising thoughts about the Scotts. “We were told all about your school’s wonderful support but, you see, I’m not feeling it. My fiancé is not feeling it. My god-daughter is not feeling the support.”

“I can assure you that we are a perfectly accepting–”

“You see, Ward, I don’t take kindly to anything that you’ve been thinking in the past few minutes.” Crowley takes a step forward, drawing himself up to his full height and pushing his glasses onto the top of his head to reveal his slitted eyes. Aziraphale has put two and two together and is at Tony’s side at the door, ready to go. “I don’t think the Scotts will either, when I tell them. So. I wouldn’t expect to see us coming back. Any of us.”

Ward splutters, face red with embarrassment and anger. Crowley smirks, sets his glasses right and spins on his heel to face his little family unit. Anthonia looks up at him with unadulterated joy, she always finds it a lot easier to hold eye contact when he has his glasses on but she’s also picked up along the way that it’s a defensive thing to wear them. He offers a hand to her as they walk towards the exit. She takes it and holds her other out to Aziraphale who stammers a ‘thank you’ like he’s just been awarded a medal.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #my writing #prompted fic #anon prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #tw: homophobia #there's a lil homophobia in here but it's in no way condoned

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madamquacklemore · 6 years ago

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Chapter 2: Forest child

Forest Child A/N: Than you all so much for feedback much appreciated. Ok so you can guess who the title of this chapter is referring to. In this chapter we see a paternal side to our favourite Irishman. Enjoy! And please let me no what you think.

If anyone would like to be tagged let me know :)

Destiny is all arselings!

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Finan POV Several days had passed with no sign of the wild woman from the woods. Aetheflead protested of course. Why should she allow a woman to be hunted by their enemies on Mercian soil. Eventually Uthred relented and they searched their side of the forest-to no avail and within the space of those days the child had tried to escape on several occasions so they took it in turns to watch Liliwen as she easily outsmarted the guards. Finan and the rest of the company now realised why the woman had rendered the child unconscious.

On the fourth evening after a particular difficult day Finan sat in the hall by the fire. It didn't sit right with him at all. Should they have stayed with her? Should they have taken her as prisoner? She had threatened to kill him after all. And yet those piercing green eyes would not leave his mind. Why were the Danes after her? And more importantly how many Danes were after her. "May I join you? Finan?" a voice added after a moment of silence. "Mmm?" Sihtric sat beside him offering a cup of much needed ale. "Cheers," Finan replied taking a big gulp. "I heard you had an eventful day." Sihtric began. It been Finan's turn to guard the estate and watch the child. The eventful day Sihtric spoke of was in fact Finan having to somehow bribe the Liliwen to get down from the rooftops of the estate. "How exactly did you manage to get her down?" "Well bud I could'n' exactly come up after her. 'N I now noth'n abou' children but I remember when we found her that woman was an archer righ'? So I negotiated." "With a child." "'N a mute child at that. Basically if she came down I'd show her how to use the bow. At firs' I thought she 'd tink I was gunna aim for 'er but luckily she got the idea. Maybe she knows some English after all?" "Well at least that is progress" "What abou’ you how's Uthred hold'n up?" "As well as can be expected but I feel it has been altogether to eventful these pass days. Fate has-" "Ah jaesus son you're not gonna start shite'n on about bleedin' curses again are ya? I do not know how much of it I can listen ta." "Forgive me Fin-" "Ah look I'm just bolloxed is all I do not mean ta snap. Jus' today was just-" "Strange. Aetheflead is debating on whether or not to write to Father Pyrlig he was Celt before converting perhaps he could offer some guidance." "Not the wors idea I s'pose." Finan sighed staring into the flames that reminded him of her hair. He barely spoke a few words to her yet he saw some piece of her everywhere he looked. "You worry for her, for the woman don't you?" "Does that make me cursed too? As long as she ain't another Skade." Finan laughed and downed the rest of his ale. "I don't even know the woman and she threatened my life. Not the firs' time a woman has threatened it mind you. But it was the firs' time one came close. I get it though she was only protecting her child. She was a looker though weren't she?" "Was?" "Come on now Sihtric bud you really think she's coming back from that? It don' feel righ' leavin’ a woman ou' there yano?" "Finan she is a warrior and we have done as much as we can. With the Danes marching to Wessex and Skade's curse we cannot afford to-" "I now I know. It's jus' the child the poor thing doesn't speak and ev'n' if she could,could she even understand us? She's alone." Finan sighed and got up from his seat. "Don' mind me I've jus' 'ad to much ta drink is all. Time for a piss then sleep I tink. I've an archery lesson tomora after all. G'night bud." Running his hands through his hair Finan left the hall. Before he had the chance to relieve himself the arrival he waited for was announced. "Fetch Lord Uthred!" "Fetch the Lady Aethelflead!" Gates were open to reveal a black horse trotting in its rider hunched over. A guard ran towards the horse before it's rider fell. And sure enough it was her.

"She burns. Her wounds do not appear to be severe enough to cause this, the healer suspects poison and if we do not get her fever down she won't make it through the night." Aetheflead explained as she shut the patient's door behind her. "When Uthred was dyin' Brida came." "Brida?" "Nevermind look- she was able ta save him with some herbs she had surely something must grow around here." "Even if something did Finan it is the middle of the night and do you recall what Brida used? As I do not." Uthred added. A child's footsteps ran towards them. Finan bent down and looked into those troubled grey-blue eyes. "I don't now how you got out again lil' one but it's best you don't go in there it's not something you should see." "Perhaps we should let her in," Aethelflead suggested "Let her say goodbye." Uhtred opened the door and they gave Liliwen access. "TARIAN!" the girl cried out. The three of them exchanged looks. The child was mute no more. "Tarian! No! Tarian!" The child cried grasping the woman's hand. "Tarian." Finan muttered to himself. For that must be her name.

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Tarian's POV Everywhere hurt- everywhere burned. Something cold and wet was pressed against her head when Tarian heard screaming from somewhere she struggled for her daggers. "You must rest woman you are badly injured." A voice said to her. "And I feel even poisoned." The voice of an elderly man added. Poison-that can only mean one thing. Her father's men were not the only ones after her for Danes do not typically use poison. Celts do. As tears streamed from her eyes the room began to spin throat burning Tarian mustered every bit of strength to lean over and vomit over the side of her bed. "Tarian!"

Though her vision swam before her there could be no mistaking that voice. "Here little one. You found your voice." she greeted the child in their native tongue. "I'm so sorry I left you and your head-" She reached out to her. Liliwen approached Tarian and stroked the side of her cheek and shaking her head. "Yes I lost my voice but it has come back to me again. You are poisoned aren't you? Are they dead? The man that helped us get away?" As usual nothing escaped the child and a million questions to boot. "The old man believes it is poison." Tarian blinked back the second round tears that threatened to fall. Gustaf who was her friend when she lived on her father's estate had never forgotten her whom despite being sworn to her father set her and Liliwen free. Who had loved her after all these years of scarce glances and even fewer meetings. "Gustaf is dead. But the beast who did it is dead also." "And the poison?" "Only the Aurealis plant can help me. It grows here. I do not remember where." Liliwen got up from the bed and sighed. Wearing that look Tarian knew all too well. Determination. "Liliwen" The frail sound of her own voice frightened her. "Don't put yourself-" "You have always looked out for me. Now it is my turn."

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Finan POV

The five of them watched the exchange between Liliwen and the woman dying in the bed. "I thought she said the child was mute." Aetheflead muttered. "Ay Tarian said that," Finan replied bewildered as he watched the child touch her face. Ignoring Uthred's questioning gaze he asked. "What will become of the child?" "A convent most likely. I haven't decided." she replied as they watched dying woman and child converse in a strange language. Under any other circumstances the idea of a feral child being sent to a convent would tickle him somewhat at the chaos she would cause. But not in this case. If she were a boy that raw anger and talent could be harnessed and she would make a fine warrior. Maybe they would make an exception if he got the chance to train her. Celtic women had just as much reputation the battle field as men did. Liliwen hopped of the bed and walked towards Finan cautiously, turning back to look at Tarian for what Finan could only guess was approval. Finan walked towards them both as Tarian's voice was now barely more than a whisper. "She wants you to follow her Irishman." Tarian croaked as Liliwen took his hand. "She seems to like you." The woman gave him a weak smile. With one last fleeting look, Liliwen led them both out the room and out in to the yard. An unwelcome combination of ale,exhaustion and cold hit Finan suddenly and he swayed on his feet Liliwen steadied him. "I'm ok child" he assured her. Finding a barrel of icy water he splashed himself ready with it. Liliwen tugged on his cloak hurriedly and pointed to the gate. "You want us to leave the estate?" It took Finan a minute to realise that although she may no longer be mute she probably didn't understand the language he spoke. After several exchanges of hand guestures later Finan and a few guards were saddling up their horses and riding towards the forest. As Liliwen directed them deeper into the forest Finan became more and more uneasy. He did not like being so deep in a possible hostile forest with such a small number. Although the sun had fully risen it would not be much use them if they continued much further off the beaten path. Finan wondered why he had gone with the child. Who or what was she leading them too? Over the past few days he believed out of all them he had begun to develop some sort of rapport with the child. Funny he would think as out of all of them (baring Osferth) he was the only with no children or experience with children or at least not that he knew of. And yet here he was a woman who should mean nothing to him entrusting the well being of this child who was now literally leading him to the unknown. What have I got m'self into. Liliwen held up her hand like a commander leading an army as Finan then the guards halted. She was already struggling to get down before Finan himself hopped down and with his assistance she hit the ground running. After 100 yards west she stopped at a tree that had been marked-its bark cut with markings that were faintly familiar to Finan. Crouching down she reached for Finan's dagger. Liliwen closely inspected each bright orange and yellow plant growing at the base of the marked tree and dug out several plants with the dagger. She rushed back to the horse returning the dagger Liliwen gave Finan an expectant look. Now that they new what direction they were going in the rushed back to the estate before they could as the pagans would say tempt fate any further. Liliwen rushed over to where the Finan had previously washed his face and took a cup of ale from a group of guards talking at the table. One of the guards grabbed her as she emptied the contents out. "Oy! Celt what do you think you're doing?!" he bared at her. "You will let her go Oswald." Finan ordered from behind him. "My apologies Finan. This child here is trouble." the guard sighed and let her go. "No denying that." Finan too his hand off his sword. The danger passed. Liliwen filled the cup with water nodded at Finan to follow her and the two hurried towards the kitchen. Heating the water she quickly prepared the plants Finan hands were slapped away after he offered assistance. Once the hot liquid was prepared they hurried off to the Tarian lay in. "Mother of Jesus the devil has taken her." Finan gasped as they opened the door to Tarian's bedchamber they found her convulsing on the bed. "No Finan just the poison." The healer replied. He and Osferth held her body as still they could Aethflead's lady held Tarian's head up and a metal rod in her mouth-so she wouldn't swallow her tongue-she explained. Liliwen seemingly unfazed tugged at Finan made the motion to for Tarian to drink the liquid. Finan got on the bed beside her removing the rod quickly he tipped the liqid down her throat. Seconds later Tarian spat it out still seizing her her eyes rolled to the back of her head he had never scene anything like it. Danes didn't use poison-did they? He looked to Liliwen who signalled for him to try again-the whole cup. She got on the bed beside him rubbed Tarian's mangled red hair and sang a song in her native tongue as Finan tipped the liquid back into her mouth. Whether it was the liquid or the soothing melody of a child it worked. The seizing slowed then stopped altogether. The healer and lady pulled up the covers again to cover he modesty and when the healer said she would need to be watched Finan volunteered. He knew this brave child of the forest was going nowhere. And neither was he.

@geekandbooknerd

#the last kingdom #finan the agile #FinanxOC #of love and war #fanfiction #Mercia #aethelflead #uthred #saxon #dane #celt

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jumpingjackets · 7 years ago

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Sugar Baby (John Laurens x Reader)

Request:

awkward-silence-turtle said:I don’t know if you’re up for longer requests, but something with SugarMomma!Reader x SugarBaby!Laurens? That would be awesome!

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Yo, I was originally going to write something short and quick but I got a lil carried away. I really would like to write a full length fic about this at one point. Also, I’m gonna post requests like this from now on. Hope you like it!

Having money was everything it was hyped up to be. Luxury hotels, private jets, weird dog breeds. You were living just about the best life you could imagine. Your hotel chain just continued to grow, and you were practically swimming in money.

Problem is, you were lonely. Excruciatingly lonely.

You tried to fill the hole in your heart with alcohol, sex, and partying, anything that would give you a different perspective, but nothing really filled you enough. Friends were scarce, considering that most people used you for your money, but that didn’t bother you much.

You could always count of your dear friend Angelica. She helped keep you sane.

One particular day, you were lounging in one of the suites with her in one of the most expensive rooms in the building (the perks of owning a hotel company). It’s king side bed in the center, over a (ridiculously) expensive carpet, elegant curtains covering half of the windows and a terrace where you could view over a busy New York. It was Angelica and yours’s favorite place to hang out. Angelica laid back in the bed while you were in the terrace on a phone call.

“Have you heard of SugarMom.com?” She said. You didn’t really hear her from being so focused on a heated business call. You noticed she was glaring at you, and motioned her to wait.

“I don’t care what that useless idiot says, tell him to send me the reports by tomorrow or he’ll be out of a job quicker than he can spell his name.” You shouted at the phone, tapping the screen angrily to end the call. You sighed deeply and looked back to a patient Angelica. “I’m sorry, love. Business things. What were you saying?” You sat in front of her in the bed, and she immediately smiled.

“You should sign up for those sugar momma’s sites and get you a sugar baby.” She said confidently, laying across on the comfortable bed and wiggling her eyebrows at you. You began to laugh, but quickly shut up once you noticed her expression.

“You’re not serious… Right?” You asked her, half worried, half considering the idea. She shook her head with a genuine look in her face.

“Could be fun, you never know. Want me to help you get started?” She asked, already taking out your laptop and signing in and opening chrome. You weren’t a stranger to that world. You’ve had a few sugar babies, but all of them eventually left you for someone richer or more attractive. You felt indifferent and bittersweet going back into it so abruptly.

You watched as Angelica signed into a strange website and put all your information in. “Oh, dear.” You said with a gulp.

“Don’t you worry about anything. I’m going to make your profile the hottest in the entire site. It will take a miracle for you to not be flooded with young boys.” She said, typing away endlessly with an evil smile.

“How do you know so much about this?” you teased and punched her side playfully. She looked over her shoulder and gave you a wink, which made you laugh.

“Oh! Two already!” She exclaimed excitedly. Angelica is literally a miracle worker.

You laid down beside her to inspect both requests. There was one from a kid named Alexander Hamilton, beautiful in appearance overall and he seemed nice enough, but Angelica did not look pleased with him. You could’ve sworn you heard her mutter “Not this one” under her breath. The other one was a kid about the same age, equally as beautiful.

His picture was a side angle selfie, and he was undeniably breathtaking. His face was littered with freckles and had a smile that reached his ears. His hair was tied back in a tight bun, but soft, loose curls framed his face beautifully. You scanned through his pictures and continued to stalk his profile. It said he was a 20-year-old who had just moved to New York from South Carolina and was looking for an honest person.

Angelica looked over at you with an evil smirk, and quickly typed in a message before you could realize what she was doing.

Hello, Mr. Laurens.

I’m very interested in you as a sugar baby. You’re very beautiful and no doubt have a very interesting personality. I’m intrigued by you. Can you meet up with me at the restaurant in Hotel Abernathy tonight at 8 to discuss further exchanges?

Message back when you can

She hit send before you had the chance to read it fully, and groaned loudly at her direction.

“‘I’m intrigued by you’? You’re so lame, Angelica.” You said in a whine, to which she responded with a laugh.

Ding.

He had responded.

Good evening, Miss L/N,

You’re very kind. You can expect me there at 8 sharp. :)

You gasped when you read that message, so did Angelica once she did.

“Look at you, Cougar.” She said in a teasing tone, but you could see she was excited, “You have to go now. You won’t keep such a pretty face waiting, now, would you?” She looked at you with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

She stumbled out of the bed and headed straight for your walk-in closet.

“You need to look like you have your shit together. Do you have anything that screams ‘I have so much money I practically have to eat it’?” she shouted from the closet. You had to think for a moment. Your wardrobe did generally give that message.

You were about to answer her when you heard her gasp. “Y/N, you are wearing this and there is no arguing it.” She said, holding one of your favorite dresses. It had been a while since you’ve worn it, you didn’t have the body you used to the first years of your wealth ten, maybe 15, years ago. You did take it from Angelica’s hands, though.

You looked over at the clock, it read 6:53 P.M. You still had time.

You couldn’t believe you were actually going through with this.

You arrived at the restaurant at 7:30. Fixing the heavy bracelet that hung from your hand, you looked down at your dress. It was a skin tight, knee length, cream-colored dress with short sleeves that looked unbelievably elegant if worn right. You were surprised to find that it still hugged your body like it did before. You felt a certain level of confidence that you hadn’t felt in ages.

You walked into the restaurant and were immediately greeted by a waiter that lead you to a corner of the restaurant, so you could talk to John in private comfortably.

Sitting down, you scanned over everyone dining in the restaurant. The owner was a man you trusted deeply, and you could see that everyone was having a good time. You really did give yourself completely to your company.

After a while of looking over the restaurant and taking a few calls, you saw a nervous boy approach your table. “Miss L/N?”

You gave him a warm smile, stood up and offered your hand for a shake. “Lovely to meet you, John. Please, call me Y/N.” He smiled, shaking your hand. You motioned for him to sit down.

“I’m sorry if I seem nervous, this is my first time doing this.” John said, with a nervous chuckled.

You offered him a genuine smile and took his hand in yours.

“Don’t you worry about that.” You said reassuringly. “I’m just glad you showed up. I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as you was messaging me.” You sat back and watched his face get flustered.

Oh, you were going to enjoy this.

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years ago

Text

Coldflashwave Tortall AU 1/8

Fic: The Swiftest Course (Ao3) (Chapter 1/8)

Fandom: Flash, DC's Legends Pairing: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Mick Rory, Eddie Thawne/Iris West Summary:

Barry of Allen is on his way to the capital of Tortall for the final part of his knight training, hiding a secret that could threaten his career there. He's determined to keep his head down and not get into trouble.

He isn't expecting to meet Len, Corus' Rogue, or his right-hand man, Mick. Or meet Princess Iris and his new friends, Cisco and Caitlin.

He certainly wasn't expecting to be roped into adventure.

(It's the Gods' fault, really.)

A/N: For joyous-lee, who purchased one of my stories for the FandomTrumpsHate event. She requested a Tortall AU, with Barry as Alanna. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it!

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There were three of them, and they were arguing.

One said, “We have reached a crossroad of fate once more. I have selected a champion to stand up for this country: a boy with a strong heart, a boy with faith and trust and love –”

“And what’s that going to get you?” cackled the second one. “A dead boy, that’s what! Lured to his death by a smile and a wink, I’m sure – no, for the country to be saved, we'll need stronger medicine than that, m’dear, and I’ve found myself a demigod, with power aplenty –”

The third rolled his eyes but remained silent – though perhaps with the hint of a smile.

“I will not send my champion unaided,” the first said coldly. “I will grant him great gifts to aid him – the swiftness of my heels, the strength of the great lightning –”

“Oh, well, that’s going to do it, I’m sure,” the second snapped. “My demi-god has power enough in himself and needs no more; I’ll send him an ally and advisor to catch him should things go ill –”

The third one makes a face that scarcely hides the amusement beneath.

“It is my boy that will save them,” the first one argued.

“It is my boy that will save them,” the second one claimed.

“I’m going to choose myself a champion,” the third one put in abruptly. “And he’ll be the one to save the world.”

The first two turned to stare at him in disbelief.

“You?” they chorused. “Don’t be absurd.”

“I’ll wager you on it,” the third one said, crossing his arms.

“I’ll take that bet,” the second one snapped.

“As will I,” murmured the first. “How could any chosen of yours ever compare to ours?”

“Oh, you'll see. I’ll find someone,” the third says with a smirk, “someone with cleverness, and wit, and luck – and I’ll have him win over both of your boys, and use them to save the country!”

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Len yawns and rolls out of bed before he’s even entirely awake, because you never know when someone is going to be trying to stab you.

Not that it would help him all that much. His bed has far finer protections than Len's clumsy maneuvers: Mick possesses that amazing ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat and stay asleep no matter how loud it is, but also to wake up fully and totally the second he’s actually needed.

Unless, of course, he’s aware that they’re both perfectly safe, in which case he’s as unmoveable as a stone.

Like, say, now.

“Get up,” Len calls over his shoulder, making a beeline towards the coffee and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Mick grumbles and curses Len’s parentage on his father’s side.

Len has no objections.

Still, by the time Len’s finished his coffee and gotten ready – washed up, clothing on, knives packed away and ready to be pulled out for convenient stabbing – Mick’s waiting for him by the door, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and Len wants to punch him because the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. Accursed Carthaki import and its beguiling properties. Who was it that first let the merchants bring it in, anyway?

“C’mon, Lenny,” Mick says, opening the door for him. “We’ve got a nice, full day of stealing shit ahead of us. Can’t be late to work.”

Len can’t help but crack a smile. “You think you’re so funny,” he says, aiming for sarcasm but mostly coming out fond. Deciding to take Mick on as a partner was the best decision of his life to date. Back when they'd met, Mick – just a kid, back then, not the looming giant he’d grown into – was hanging around the city gates like he wasn’t sure if he should come in or not, but not gawking like most of the other country folk coming to the capital were.

Len has what is widely considered the world’s crappiest version of the Sight, which helps him identify things that will be relevant to him without any context (Enemy? Lover? Best friend? Person who will one day murder him?). He doesn’t get any of the useful versions, like lie-spotting or poison-detection, oh no, he just gets a feeling. Back then, he hadn’t even recognized that it was the Sight, just a tendency for hunches that served him well, but he’d taken one look at Mick with his cheap wool clothing and the boots that were falling apart on his feet and bee-lined over to make Mick’s acquaintance.

Turned out that Mick had walked all the way to Corus from who-knows-where he lived, which is just plain old ridiculous, and Len told him so, then bought him lunch with the wallet he’d just lifted.

Mick hasn’t left his side since.

Mick just smirks back. “Nah,” he says. “I ain’t funny, but you’re easy to please. Now get your ass moving, the Dancing Dove isn’t going to open itself, and the gangs are gonna want to know their boundary lines for the week.”

“I should have thought about all the administrative work before becoming the Rogue,” Len pretends to whine. “Never would’ve taken it on if I’d thought about it.”

“Sure, you would’ve,” Mick says peaceably. “You killed that man because of what he was doing to lil’ Sammy and you didn’t care or know who he was, and you were damn surprised when someone told you that you were the Rogue now.”

“Pity the only way to quit is to die…”

They’re about halfway to the Dove when Len runs straight into someone.

Unintentionally, for once; he’s so surprised by it that he doesn’t even lift the guy’s wallet.

“Sorry!” the kid chirps. He’s wearing some decent hose, but he’s got that wide-eyed "holy shit the city" look in his eyes – backcountry nobility of some sort, if Len’s got to guess. “Really sorry. I’m just – not the best with looking where I’m going. Which I’m going to have to work on. Plus directions. God, directions. Uh. Do you happen to know where the courts are?”

Asking for directions is a city-born’s one true weakness, the magic spell that causes every single one of them to stop whatever business they’re on and answer.

“Sure thing,” Len says, as susceptible as the rest of his kindred. “But which court are you looking for?”

“There’s more than one?”

Len laughs. “Yeah, kid,” he says. “There’s the courthouse, where the lawmen sit; the court proper, where you’ll find the king and his court; the court-adjacent, where they train the knights; and the court-university, where they train the Gifted. They’re all called the Courts.”

“And those are just the official courts,” Mick offers. “There are also the tennis courts, and the gaming courts –”

“Court Theatre,” Len says, smirking.

“Oh, man,” the kid groans, but he’s grinning, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “I’m going to get so lost, I can just tell! I need the one where the knights train.”

Len points him in the right direction. “Okay, so listen closely,” he instructs. “You go straight down this street to the big fountain, cut off left to the small street with all the curtains – you can’t miss it – go down the hill until you see the steps, next to the tavern with the horrifyingly red rooster on it – you really can’t miss that.”

“Street, fountain, left, hill,” the kid nods.

“You go up the steps until you hit the place with all the colorful houses – one of the nicest parts of the city, actually, can you believe that they’d been planning on mowing it down to make a big boulevard like they did with the center of town?”

“Rogue of that time stopped the bastards,” Mick agrees. “Good on him. We’d have lost three full neighborhoods to that nonsense. Who needs open roads in the middle of a city?”

“Tourists, that’s who, but we don’t run this city for ‘em. Anyway, once you see all the colorful houses, keep going straight until you get to the park. All the trees and whatnot. Right by the trees, there’s the first of said big boulevards in the middle of the way. Just plopped right into the middle of it all, tearing down perfectly good houses – it doesn’t fit at all with the rest of the area, so you really –”

“Can’t miss it?” the kid asks, because he’s apparently a bit of a smart ass. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Happy to help,” Len says, and then, entirely without his volition, says, “If you want someone to show you the city, you can find me anytime at the Dancing Dove – it’s an inn down four streets west of here, on Nipcopper Road. Have someone direct you there. Just come by any time.”

“I will!” the kid says, smiling right at Len. He’s got bright brown eyes, a mop of brown hair and a cheerful expression, and he’s basically the exact opposite of the sort of person that Len ought to be inviting down to the Dove. “My name’s Barry of Allen – well, it’s Bartholomew, technically, but who in their right mind would want to go by Bartholomew – uh, unless that’s your name –”

“Leonard,” Len says. “Call me Len – it’s better than Leonard – and this here’s Mick. Just ask for one of us by name.”

“I will! Thanks!”

With a wave, the kid disappears into the crowd.

“That was awful nice of you,” Mick observes, giving Len a slightly confused expression.

“Yeah,” Len says, blinking a little. “Awful nice.”

“Sight telling you he’ll be important?”

“I guess,” Len says, shrugging. “Could be just a whim. Whatever; if he’s headed for the court-adjacent, he’s to be a knight, and he’s not going to have time to come visit us anytime soon, so it’s not like it matters.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Mick says, rolling his eyes and pulling a cheap fire-stone out of his pocket, the sort that are enchanted to light up in flame when you trace the rune on them – they’re mostly sold to help women start their kitchen fires, products of the university’s Gifted practicing their craft, but Mick’s always had a liking for them.

Then again, he likes anything when it comes to fire.

Len shakes his head and starts up again, nimbly avoiding the crowd. “You feeling hot tonight?” he asks. “I could set up something to need burning.”

“Nah, not yet,” Mick says. “But if there was a heist coming up that needed a fire…”

“There will be,” Len says, putting the whole business with the stranger – with Barry – out of his mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barry’s pleased to find that the directions the handsome man in blue had given him were both accurate and easy to follow (he was definitely not lying about the horrific shade of red of that rooster, gods above) and Barry makes it to the Court – uh, the Knight’s Court – in no time.

The court-adjacent, Len called it.

Man, if Barry had known that Corus had such pretty people, he would have…done exactly what he had done and waited until he’d completed basic knighthood training at the local training center near home before coming to the city at age eighteen.

It hadn’t been easy. Barry wasn’t particularly strong, particularly agile, particularly…anything, honestly.

Well.

He was fast.

But no one could ever know about that.

Barry sighs a little, remembering those terrible first few weeks when he was younger when it had first manifested, where he had to inch along because going faster than a crawl would result in a burst of super-speed, the experience of having to lie to his father for the first time, the agony of teaching himself how to slow back down…

If only the Gift didn’t automatically mean mandatory admittance to the mages university!

Apparently, back in Good King Jonathan and Queen Thayet’s day, you could be a knight and Gifted, like the Lioness - but that was nearly two centuries ago. Tortall’s mage universities had just been founded, for that matter, as a place for people to go to refine their Gifts; that was before the Gift had started specializing. People’s Gifts – just one type each, nowadays, rather than all-purpose – manifested in puberty, a reflection of how incredibly strong they were, and as soon as they manifested, they were shipped off to the City of the Gods for basic mage training, and mages weren’t allowed to become knights at all. Ever since Tortall had nearly been taken over in that awful war with the Magekiller that had decimated both their mages and their knights, knights were knights and mages were mages and that was that.

No. Barry was heading to Corus to become a knight, and that was final. Even if it meant hiding his speed for the rest of his life. Seven years of knighthood training at home, and the final year of intensive training in the capital, then appointment to the right position, maybe make a few good alliances with people who could stand up for him – then, and only then, would Barry consider revealing himself.

Honestly, Barry’s just happy that he hadn’t been shipped off to learn basic training in Corus the way it used to be when there were only a few dozen knights each year instead of an army of several thousands. He’d never have been able to hide it, and then zip, over to the City of the Gods he'd have gone.

But he decided very young that he was going to be a knight because as a knight, he gets to go to live in Corus.

He knows it’s a childish reason, but – he misses his mom.

Oh, sure, she writes often, every two weeks like clockwork. She visits once a season, if she can.

But the life of the King’s Spymaster isn’t an easy one – it’s not just spying but also diplomacy and foreign policy, and that means living in Corus. And though she loves her husband, Henry of Allen, very dearly, and her son no less dearly, that means she can’t live with them.

If Barry went to the City of Gods, he wouldn’t have even seen her the few seasons she went home. Mage training takes a lot longer than knighthood training: he wouldn’t have been sent to Corus, if ever, until he was halfway through his twenties, and that was assuming he was good enough to get into the mage university of Corus, the finest of the mage universities in all the land.

No, Barry’s going to become a knight, and make his family proud that way. Not as a Gifted mage, locked away in some room with a pile of books.

But first he needs to survive becoming a knight.

Correction: first he needs to find the right room and not be late.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s late.

“I am so sorry,” Barry says apologetically.

The man in black at the head of the room sniffs. “I hope you won’t be making this a habit, Allen,” he says, and sweeps out.

“Did I miss the entire introduction?” Barry asks a pretty black girl plaintively.

She snickers. “Don’t mind old Darhk,” she says. “He’s the head of the mage university at Corus; he comes in just to sneer at us at the start of it.”

“Do we even do anything with the mage university? I thought it was a pretty strict segregation.”

“It is! The only thing we learn is magic theory so we know enough to recognize a problem on patrol, so we can call in a mage of the appropriate level to deal with it,” she says confidently.

“I guess they got tired of getting reports that said, ‘there’s a magic thingy, I think’ and it turns out to be swamp gas,” a boy about Barry’s age puts in. He’s short, with dark skin – though not as dark as the girl’s – and long dark hair that falls to his shoulders.

A third girl, sitting next to the boy, laughs. She’s pale and blond. “That happened in my district once,” she says, smiling a little, though she still seems nervous. “The magic thingy turned out to be a bullfrog.”

“That’s even better,” the boy exclaims.

Barry shakes his head. “I’m Barry of Allen,” he says. “You’re all here for knighthood training, right?”

“Yep,” the boy says. “I’m Cisco. Uh, short for Francisco. I’m one of the Ramons, from the coast.”

“Caitlin Snow,” the blonde girl says.

“Oh, are you from near the Scanran states?” the black girl asks.

Caitlin laughs. “What gave it away?” she jokes. “The blond or the name?”

“What’s your name?” Barry asks the black girl.

Cisco makes a small choking noise.

“What?” Barry asks, blinking.

“Ignore him,” the girl says, but she’s grinning. “It’s just been a while since anyone’s asked, that’s all. My name’s Iris.”

“Oh, cool,” Barry says. “Like the princess.”

“Uh, Barry,” Caitlin says. “This is the princess.”

Barry blinks, then twists to stare at her. “You are?”

She grins. “Yep. And I’m in your class, too.”

“Huh. Wow. Cool. Well, it’s nice to meet you. Is that why you know so much about how the training works?”

Iris starts laughing. “I like you,” she says, lightly punching his arm. “You didn’t make one stupid princess joke or start being all weird.”

Barry shrugs, grinning a bit. “My mom’s a courtier,” he tells her. “I ask her about court and she just goes on and on about how state dinners are the worst thing in existence, and everyone still has to attend them, so I think the shine’s sort of worn off.”

“They are the worst things in existence,” Iris says. “No lie. Which one’s your mom?”

“Nora of Allen –”

“The spymaster?” Cisco says, delighted.

“She’s awesome,” Iris gushes. “Like, amazing.”

“Yeah,” Barry says, beaming. “I know, right? I’m going to go see her when the introductory week is over; she’s out on tour till then. Well, I’m hoping to, anyway. I hope I didn’t miss anything important by being late today…”

“You definitely should,” Iris says. “And you didn’t; nothing’s happened yet. Besides, I can tell you most of what you’re going to hear, anyway; the knights division is run by a three-part system. Lord Wells is the overall head of the knights, but he's mostly involved in court stuff, or when we go to war. Captain Singh, the Lord Provost, manages the local patrols, inner-city and city vicinity, and that includes both the regular Guard and the knights that are assigned to the area. Lord Merlyn leads the outside patrols - missions to other countries, more unfamiliar areas, that sort of thing. His strike forces are very prestigious, since there’s so few chosen." She sighs. “Unfortunately, the system’s a bit lopsided at present – Singh’s internal patrols don’t have enough recruits, because Wells and Merlyn take them to the border, and as a result there’s more and more reliance on the informal patrols of the Rogue, and the quality of that can change rapidly, to say the least. It’d be better if we had more knights here in Corus.”

"Can't you do something?" Cisco asks. "If you're, well, the princess?"

Iris sighs. "My dad doesn't exactly listen to me," she says wryly. "He gave me the silent treatment for a month when I explained that I was going for my knighthood for real instead of just using all that training for self-defense I'll never use."

"Ouch," Caitlin says sympathetically. Barry can't even imagine his dad refusing to talk to him; usually, his dad is all about talking issues out for ungodly lengths of time.

"But our classes will be split between physical training - much more intense than what we're used to, or so people tell me - and our studies. And just a teensy portion of free time to keep us from going totally spare.”

"Can't wait," Barry says enthusiastically.

They all look at him.

"What?" he asks, only a little defensively. "We're one step closer to fighting the good fight, helping people. That's why we're here, right?"

Smiles spread on all of their faces. "Yeah," Cisco says, sitting up straight in his chair. "Yeah, you're right about that."

There's an awful screech of metal on stone, making Barry's shoulders shoot up to his ears. He turn to see what it was.

A frankly massive man, not too much older than Barry but something like twice the width, has turn his seat around to face them.

"You're naive, squirt," he says. "That fairy tale bullshit's centuries out of date. What do you think you are, the next Lioness?" He laughs nastily.

"Oh, shut up, Tony," Iris says. "Nobody asked for you input."

"No, I don't think I will," Tony says. "Not even for you, pretty princess." He blows a kiss at her.

Iris glares death at him and makes what even Barry can tell is a very rude gesture.

Tony smirks and leans back in his chair, smug and confident. “Where you from, little lion cub? Trebond?” he asks Barry.

“I’m from Allen,” Barry says stiffly. “Not that it’s important.”

“Oh, sure it is,” Tony says. “Explains it all, really. Allen’s backwater country. Infested with desert rats, I hear.”

“What in the world is wrong with you,” Iris snarls. “My dad and I are both Bazhir, you asshole! Your king, let me remind you!”

“I didn’t say anything about the Bazhir,” Tony says smugly. “You did.”

Iris fumes.

“You used a well-known slur,” Barry says. “It’s not our job to prove what you meant; it was clear enough what you said. Even someone from the backwater knows that.”

“Now listen here, you pipsqueak –”

There’s a loud throat-clearing from the front of the room and they all settle back into their seats, abashed.

"Don't worry," Tony hisses to Barry, and Barry really doesn't like the mean but satisfied look on his face. "I'm sure we'll have an opportunity to discuss it again soon."

Barry only has a day to wonder what Tony - apparently Tony Woodward, a courtier’s son - meant, since what he meant is that he'd volunteer to be Barry's partner in the physical training and then spend all day, every day, using his bulk and strength to beat Barry up and down the yard.

Great.

#coldflashwave #dccoldwave #westhawne #leonard snart #barry allen #mick rory #iris west #eddie thawne #cisco ramon #Caitlin snow #tony woodward #my fic #tortall

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jaeminlore · 8 years ago

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Truth // Lee Taeyong

the prompt: can you make a scenario where Taeyoung is a angry deadly vampire that falls in love with a human???

words: 821

category: drabble

author note: you wrote taeyoung and i assumed taeyong so im really sorry if you meant taehyung. also, i wrote this in a completely different style from all of my other scenarios?? it’s not reader specific it’s more like a prologue to some kind of strange vampire novel?? i like it a lot though so i hope you enjoy this lil drabble from me to you.

- destinee

Taeyong walks along an empty road. Meadows surround him, and he is left with nothing to guide him save the stars.

It is cold, and if Taeyong breathed more would be able to see the clear mist of his breath. But he doesn’t breath that often. He doesn’t need much oxygen to survive, so there is no mist.

There is wind, soft and steady, whistling around Taeyong’s eyes like the annoying buzz of a fly. It messes up his pitch black hair, causing annoyance to gleam in the boy’s eyes.

He is busy thinking about something. Someone, more like.

He had been visiting his friend’s bar. It was run by vampires, unknown to the humans around the vicinity. All you had to do was show your fangs to the bar tender and he would offer you a selection of vampire-friendly drinks. Drinks where the “bloody” in Bloody Mary could be taken literally.

Taeyong had been tired. He wanted nothing more than a solid meal, yet he had no energy to go hunting. He settled for a glass of fresh blood and looked around the bar, absentmindedly taking inventory of all the humans.

That was when she walked in. Her wild unruly hair that just brushed her brown collarbones. Taeyong’s eyes trailed from her face down to her body, where she wore nothing but a little black dress that didn’t leave much for the imagination.

Taeyong might not have realized that he was staring. But he was. Because she was enticing and addicting; seductively so. Taeyong wondered if she would let him buy her a drink.

Then she laughed loudly at someone else’s joke, and Taeyong came to his senses. He could smell the human on her from a mile away.

She was either off limits or on the menu. There was no gray area for vampires. Taeyong knew this, and yet he couldn’t bring his eyes to look away.

He watched as she threw her head back in laughter, exposing her smooth neck.

Taeyong swallowed thickly. His instinct was kicking in, but he tried to ignore it.

If he bit her, she might never forgive him. Besides, there was something complex about this human. She had an air of joy around her. A bubble of happiness that was unable to be broken.

Taeyong was the complete opposite. His fuse was short. Other vampires feared him for his sharp gaze and deep bite. He had turned a majority of the people in his community. Humans were getting scarce in this town because of him and his ruthlessness.

Which is why it took all of his willpower not to go after her. She was pure and wild at the same time. She was the wild hurricane and the calm of the storm. She was beautiful, and yet she tore him up inside.

How could he destroy this life?

Of all the humans he’s killed, he wondered why he didn’t want to kill her.

Perhaps her laugh. It was loud an obnoxious, yet filled with joy beyond measure. It was an innocent giggle escalating into a loud guffaw that could be heard throughout the whole bar.

Perhaps her face. The look of her chocolate-colored eyes covered by thick eyelashes. The slope of her button nose. The thickness of her dark, attractive lips.

Perhaps her voice. Taeyong could hear it from where he sat. It was like a songbird had taken human form and decided to visit a deluded bar for a laugh.

Perhaps her gall. The vampire watched her turn down man after man, telling them to stop interrupting her girl’s night. Her voice carried as she told them off for bothering her and her friends.

Perhaps her kindness. Taeyong noticed her paying for her friend’s drinks, but also monitoring that they didn’t drink too much.

Whatever it was that Taeyong was feeling, it was enough to make him stop and decide he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t take her life away, no matter how badly he wanted to.

There was something in him holding back.

Taeyong walks along an empty road. He wonders where she is now. He wonders if she is still at his old town. If so, he wonders if she has been bitten yet.

If she became immortal, would they meet again?

Taeyong’s heart thrums as he thinks of seeing her again. The girl he saw in the bar. The one who made one of the scariest vampires question his morale.

The night is still, with no moon to guide him. All seems lost as he walks around aimlessly. He must find shelter before the morning, yet he seems in no hurry.

He is lost in his own thoughts, unable to pay attention to the world around him.

His heart beats faster as he tries to organize his feelings. A little voice in his head tells him that he fell in love with a human.

He cannot argue with the truth.

~to be continued~

#nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct au #nct taeyong #taeyong drabble #taeyong scenarios #taeyong au #vampire au #vampire drabble #destwrites #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 scenarios #nct u au #nct u scenarios #nct u #taeyong fic

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peacekeeperangel · 8 years ago

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WAFF RP- It isn’t a Fair when no one has had fun

Another RP session with @ichiwashername-o to follow up the previous one. Mercilessly cute fluff and Feels abound!

Angel: It's been several weeks since the Ballet incident. the Gemstone Siblings all know of what happened to their Human Mother- Now a litterally Ice-Cold Ninja of doom. It was not a plesant reaction.

Angel: Cirri has not seen Jasper in weeks. Jasper has stayed on his Gemstone-Growing farm for weeks not speaking to anyone- and generally being very confused, and angry.

Angel: Despite everything, Cirri was allowed to complete her run with Swan Lake and Mettaton has asked her to preform again in future productions. She politely tells him that she'll keep in touch.

A little light-hearted fun is in order. Snowdin is having a Carnival to celebrate- something. Mostly it's an excuse to breakup the wintery doldrums. Everyone in town is helping out, and Cirri's come down from Waterfall to help in her own way

Angel: after some firm prodding from his Sisters (Jade mothering him, and Emerald chasing him around the farm) Jasper decides to head to Snowdin as well, though he has no idea that Cirri's there, or that there's a Party happening in town

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby was busier and ever with the festival well under way, helping to cater to the throngs of monsters enjoying a bit of cheer and festivities. He worked his fire magic preparing dozens of delicious dishes, the kitchen in a state of controlled chaos as dishes, ingredients, pots and pans flew about the place in a mad haze. He was in his literal element.

Cooking was his escape, his safe space. Nothing gave him more joy. And it was . . . much needed after what happened.

Grillby could scarcely recall the last time he had been in such a heightened state. And being in that enhanced form was very dangerous, he knew that, his power was completely off the charts, but what choice did he have? It took him days to burn off all that extra power, all that extra strength. Even still, chunks of hardened magma covered his back like rocky scales.

They would fade, in time.

Gaster was assisting him in the kitchen. He was no cook but his telekinesis was a blessing, helping the dishes reach their customers all the quicker, as well as handle the finer things that the busy cook couldn't handle. Papyrus and Sans were amongst the crowds, enjoying themselves.

IchikoWindGryphon: "Plate of donut holes coming up!" Grillby announced, hefting the basket of fried dough from the bubbling oil sink. He lobbed them in the air, where Gaster grabbed them with his magic, placed them in a basket, and delivered to a waiting table. "Hey, you should be my full-time assistant! I admit I'm a bit jealous of that handy blue magic of yours!"

<<Sorry, my dear elemental, but the laboratory has a stranglehold on my life,>> Gaster quipped.

"Things at the CORE hectic as ever?"

<<Why wouldn't they be? Fel has done a marvelous job keeping the place running but nothing involving the CORE ever stays quiet for long.>>

Angel: Malachite smirked as he spotted his younger sibling emerging from the fog that separated Snowdin from Waterfall "They finally chased you out of your hole then eh?"

"Shuttup." Jasper grumped. "Hey I thought you where stationed in Waterfall, what're you doing here anyway?"

"Command decided since I have such a great relationship with Dr. Gaster and Grillby I should stay in Snowdin as.. well an Unofficial Liason." Mal's smirk weakened slightly. "how are you holding up man?"

"I'm fine, I wish you guys would stop asking me!" Jasper replied crossly.

Angel: "You're our Baby Bro. We gotta worry about you, it's part of the Elder Sibling code." Malachite said simply. "Anyway you go have fun, track down your Girlfriend."

"CIRRI'S IN TOWN?!?!" Jasper squawked.

"Uh, yeah, Snowdin's where her Family is. I think she's keeping an eye on Sans and Papyrus."

Angel: "Hhhrggh... She was stalked by M- by that thing that thinks she's our mom. I figured She didn't wanna see me..." Jasper pouted

Malachite rolled his eyes. "You are the biggest dumbass."

"Shuttup."

"You shuttup and go find your lady. She's probably at her Dad's place." Malachite emphasizes this by shoving Jasper in the direction of Grillby's.

"Worst. Wingman. Ever."

"More like Best wingman." Malachite smirks. "Go have fun before I call Jade and Emmy over here."

Angel: Cirri is in fact helping at Grillby's. While Gaster is able to get all the orders to their customers, Cirri is Taking the orders, and in some cruel twist of fate (or rather mischievous elementals with a large phonebook) has been decked out in a cute, and tasteful Maid's uniform as she weaves through the restaurant

Angel: "Grillby! Five more orders of Fries and two Hamburgers!" Cirri calls out followed by a sharp bark. "Oh yes and three Kibble Specials!"

Angel: Jasper wanders the stalls of goodies set up all over the town, there's some games and a few demonstrations but it's mostly people selling pretty things for a fair price. Most Humans would equate it to the mix of Artist Alley at a Convention and a Flea Market mixed together

IchikoWindGryphon: "Coming right up!" Grillby called back, flicking the ingredients onto the grill and into the fryer. Gaster helped finish up a plate of hot wings before helping Gaster with the next order.

Papyrus and Sans entered the bar, Papyrus holding a heaping mound of cotton candy. He had a tiny bit stuck on his cheekbone. Sans too. They waved Cirri over.

"Hey Cirri!"

"Wow, I've never seen Grillby's place so busy before," Sans remarked. "You sure you don't want us to be your assistant waiters?"

"Yeah, we can even wear matching cute dresses!" Papyrus said.

Angel: Cirri giggled. "It's alright guys I got this. I think this is the first big event you've been out on your own, you should enjoy it!"

Sans feels a faint buzz from a text message. a quick peek reveals it's from Malachite "THE STICK N DA MUD IS IN TOWN. ASSIST PLZ?"

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans elbowed his bro and winked. "Well, if you're sure, we'll be hangin' around," he said. "We'll stop by later and check in. Want us to pick up anything for you?"

IchikoWindGryphon: "Like your boyfriend," Papyrus said quietly. They both started giggling.

Angel: Cirri's face falls slightly. "If he still wants to be I guess..." her bright cloudy skin darkens a few tones before restoring to it's original pale brightness "Well keep an eye on the Stalls, we'll go shopping once I'm done!"

she quickly looks away "OhsorryIthinktheyneedmeI'llseeyoulaterguys!" she blurts before heading back into the fray.

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans and Papyrus exchanged hesitant looks. They knew of what happened, including Flint's suspicions on who the hooded figure was. Sans didn't like it, Papyrus doubly so. They headed back outside, looking for Jasper and Mal.

"Hey, I see them!" Papyrus said. Standing a good head above Sans, he could pick the horned elementals out of the crowds. He waved them over.

"Hey! MAL! JASPER! HI!"

Angel: Jasper perked up to see Papyrus waving like his life depended on it.

"Smells like Bones..." Malachite prodded Jasper. "Come on it's only polite to say hi."

"Quit pushing."

"No."

Angel: "Hey Papyrus- Oh hey Sans didn't see you there!" Mal called out lacconically. "Enjoying the Carnival?"

IchikoWindGryphon: "Oh yes! Lots of fun! This cotton candy is great!" Papyrus said enthusiastically. "I also got this stuffed octopus from a ring throw challenge!" He pulled out a small plush octopus from his jacket pocket. "His Name is Teddy Tentacles! Isn't he cute?!"

"We might have cheated just a tiiiiiiny bit," Sans teased, eye flicking blue. "You guys stop at Grillbz's yet? Place is packed! Cirri is as busy as a bee over there."

Angel: "uh..." was all Jasper got out before Malachite shoved him again. "Naaw this bozo just got here and I got all this important 'Stand around and make sure people don't do anything silly' Guard stuff." Jasper looked away looking more like a guilty dog than a stone elemental. "Maybe you three should get Cirri a Treat before you see her? Might help give her a little extra spark in her step?"

Angel: Jasper glared. "Mal what the crap?"

"The way to a woman's heart is gifts abound, truuust me Jaspy."

Jasper facepalmed. "And might I remind you I'm the one with the significant other?"

"That you know of Lil' bro."

IchikoWindGryphon: Papyrus gasped, eyes going all big and sparkly. "Are they cuuuuute? Have you kissed yet?!"

Sans laughed, "Bro, cool the jets, Mal aint gotta spill the beans on his own private stuff."

"Aw, right, fair enough! now, if I know Cirri, which I do cuz we're the best shape-shifting siblings ever, she LOVES candy! What monster doesn't?! Everyone loves candy!"

Sans nodded in agreement, then stopped short. Oh, shit, Papyrus mentioned shape-shifting. He hoped Jasper would think Papyrus was only speaking about the two skeletons and not suspect Cirri. Sweat dripped from the back of his neck.

"You always think of the best things, bro," Sans laughed.

"That's why they call me the GREAT Papyrus!"

Angel: "Huh..?" Jasper perked up. "Oh really? I guess it might not hurt to get her a bag of...something?" He shrugged.

"Excellent plan my good Skeleton." Malachite shoved a few gold coins into Jasper's hands "Go get Cirri some of her favourite sweets, have a good honest talk over things, clear the bad air-" He grimaced. "Ugh Pun Unintended."

Angel: "Alright alright!" Jasper said before turning to the skeleton bros. "So where can we get some good monster Candy around here?" he asked

IchikoWindGryphon: "There's food tents all right next to Grillby's place--I mean Dad's place . . . Can I still call him Grillby? We have two dads I feel if I don't specify it gets confusing," Papyrus said worriedly.

"I'm sure neither of our dads mind," Sans assured.

"Then come on!" He grabbed jasper by the wrist, practically dragging Jasper through the crowds. Even though Jasper was a heavy stone elemental and Papyrus a scrawny little skeleton, his strength was surprising. Papyrus led them to a row of tents, some selling a variety of regular fair food but a handful at the end of the line selling an assortment of candy, everything from chocolate to fudge to rock candy to toffee to rainbow-colored fruity treats.

Papyrus waved. "Take your pick!"

Angel: Jasper's eye immediately went to the colourful fruit-taffy. "Cirri likes colourful stuff right..?" he peered around for a vendor "'Scuse me I'd like some of the Rainbow taffy stuff please?"

Angel: A monster who looked more like a disco-ball than anything flesh-and-blood approached Jasper. "Hey cute stuff!" they flirted with a feminine voice. "You don't want any of that lame taffy."

"I don't...?" Jasper asked a little unnerved by the vendor.

"Nawww, it's bland. You'd want something like this." they pull up a bag and show off a bag of rainbow treats with a pearl-like outer shell. "Managed to make some unique flavours, some you can only get on the surface!"

"...Well they look pretty good, but what's the price?" Jasper asked

"Cheap! It's my last bag, just Five Gold." the Disco monster said "The healing magic in them will make you feel like a brand new monster!"

Jasper shrugged and dug out the money. "Why not? they look tasty enough." he paid out and took the bag of rainbow pearl monster Candy

"Pleasure doing business with you." the Disco monster replied before moving to pack up their wares

"I guess let's head to Grillby's." Jasper said looking like he'd rather get his horns broken

IchikoWindGryphon: "Let's go!" Papyrus said cheerfully, hooking arms with Jasper and half-dragging, half-skipping the elemental down the streets. They made their way to Grillby's, made it through the throngs of people, and waved Cirri over.

"We're back!" he said. "And we brought you something!" With a giggle, he pulled Jasper in front of him.

Angel: "Jasper?!" Cirri gasped. She had just been finishing the latest order and taking it to Grillby and Gaster, standing in the middle of the room

"Hrk." Jasper had seen Cirri in her Maid outfit and experienced the Mother of all Brainfarts.

He just stood stock still between being very turned on seeing Cirri looking mussed up and cute from hard work and her pretty dress to guilty about everything that had happened and slightly terrified about really everything

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby elbowed Gaster in the kitchen. "Psssst, boyfriend at 12 o'clock, you gotta see this I think his brain's melting out of his ear"

Angel: "Umm... How about you guys take a seat?" She offered a recently-freed booth rather sheepishly. "I'll take your orders."

"HHHHHHhhhhokay..." Jasper wheezed.

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby was giggling like an idiot. "Oh, this is too precious."

<< . . .. hm,>> Was all Gaster said.

"Aw, is someone being a big ol' papa wolf?" Grillby teased. "Big ol papa wolf . . . dragon . . . thing?"

Gaster only rolled his eyes.

"I worry about those two sometimes," he sighed. "Especially after the whole . . . fiasco." He turned to Gaster. "Any luck finding her?"

<<I set up cameras and sensors all over the Underground. Nothing,>> he said quietly. <<But the second I find Vulpeca . . .>> He held out his hand, and claws grew from his fingertips. <<I will make sure he won't slip away again.>>

Grillby sighed. "Just . . . be careful. And make sure I'm there to back you up."

<<After a thorough lava bath I would hope?>>

"Wouldn't be any other way I'd want to face him."

Angel: Jasper mechanically followed Sans and Papyrus to the booth and sat down. "Sans, Papyrus your Usuals?" Cirri asked

IchikoWindGryphon: "Yes please!" Papyrus said.

"With extra ketchup," Sans said with a nod.

Angel: Cirri nodded "Jasper what would you like...?" she asked cautiously

"FRIES!" Jasper yelped in a strangled tone, then "Please if it's not too much trouble..." he added looking away, his face a dark brownish-red.

Cirri nodded. "Grillby! One Milkshake, Burger extra Ketchup and Fries please!"

IchikoWindGryphon: Papyrus and Sans snickered. "Jasper stop acting so weird you're going to traumatize your girlfriend," Sans mocked.

"Are you doing ok?" Papyrus asked a bit more quietly. "We haven't seen you around for a while and we wanted to make sure, well, that you're doing ok! Cuz you're our friend!"

Angel: Jasper blinked in surprise. "Me?! Well I uh..." He fiddled nervously with his hands. "Well things are messed up with t-the monster Flint thinks is our Mom but- What about you guys?! That creature nearly killed Grillby and nearly took Cirri away! You guys have a million more reasons to be upset than me!"

Angel: "You don't agree with your big brother?" Cirri asked sitting down beside Papyrus, across from Jasper

Angel: "...I know our Mom saved our lives. She got us to the Underground in time." Jasper balled his hands in fists on the table. "She was pushed away by humans.. and monsters when it mattered most, but she was kind enough to sacrifice herself for us." he stared over at the kitchen. "I can't believe she turned into something like...something that Wasn't the human that raised us. That thing wasn't the real Irelle I can't believe it!"

Angel: Cirri laid a hand on one of Jasper's fists. "Vulpeca loves to hurt people. I wouldn't be surprised if he found out we were dating somehow and decided to hurt you just because we were together." she said softly. "I'm sorry."

Angel: "What?! No, Hell no! Don't apologize for that dickbag!" Jasper took Cirri's hand in his. "You have nothing to do with Vulpeca. You hear? He's going to pay for what he's done, to both of us."

Angel: Jasper squeezed her hand gently. "I should be the one apologizing to you, I've been in a funk all this time and you've had to deal with freaky ice women and psycho-stalkers. I won't leave you alone like that again." he then took her hand and kissed it gently earning a bright blush from Cirri

IchikoWindGryphon: Papyrus, Sans, and Grillby all let out soft squees of adoration.

IchikoWindGryphon: "Hey Jazz, can I call you Jazz? I'm callin' ya Jazz," Sans said. "Take it from someone with a REALLY messed up childhood and past. It's not . . . impossible, considering how . . . well . . ." He twisted his skeleton fingers together. "It's like dad said. there's really no such thing as a skeleton monster. Only human remains brought back to life with . . . dark magic. It doesn't surprise me that Vulpeca figured that out and in some horrible twist of fate used that to get at you. And get at Cirri in turn." Sans let out a snarl. "He really is a sick, disgusting fuck."

"normally I don't approve of such vulgar language," Papyrus said. "But Sans is one hundred percent right. Vulpeca is a very bad monster. And it terrifies me is is capable of such bad things."

Angel: Jasper frowned. "There's way too many questions... " he said "And really I dunno if I want to know the answer. But...." all the time he hadn't let go of Cirri hand "I'm not letting it stop me. I want to be with Cirri- No I Need to be with her. and some evil jackass with Evil Magic isn't going to stop me."

Angel: "Jasper..." Cirri was both deeply touched and guilty as hell. She still had her own Beast Form Secret. "I think.. I think I need to tell you something as well... But not here."

"Whenever your ready." Jasper said before realizing what he had in his other fist "Oh jeez I forgot about these. Sans Paps and I found these- they're supposed to be really good apparently?" He opened his hands to show the bag of Rainbow pearl-candy.

Angel: "Oh?" Cirri opened the bag and gasped "Oh-Oh wow Jasper they're so pretty! Are you sure I can eat these?" Jasper nodded

"Thank you so much dear!" Cirri said with a bright smile earning the return of the Blushing brainfart "Sans? Papyrus I can't eat all this candy by myself do you want some too?"

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans patted his "belly." "No way, sis, I ate like, so much cotton candy. Also gotta save my appetite for my burg. Grillz makes the best burgs."

"I warned you about ruining your appetite!" Papyrus chided as he helped himself to a piece.

"Dude you ate just as much as I did!"

Papyrus stuck out his tongue as he ate the candy. his eyes went wide.

"Oh wow this is really good!" He helped himself to another piece. "You made a good choice, Jasper!"

Angel: Cirri plucked a candy and popped it into her mouth "Mmmm.. this one tastes like strawberries. It's been so long since I had a strawberry." she took another- rewarded with an orange-y taste. "We'll have to get some more, that's really too good."

"Glad you like." Jasper grinned doofily.

"Yanno, it's quieted down enough that I think I can get away." Cirri admitted "Lemmie just go ask Grillby and you gents can show me about town~"

Angel: As she stood up the world began to spin forcing Cirri to sit back down again. "Oh! Oh gosh I guess I overdid it, I feel really dizzy all of a sudden."

"Take your time, maybe you just need something to eat?" Jasper suggested concern in his eyes

"Maybe? I Really didn't have a good breakfast." She popped another candy into her mouth. "Just give me a minute I should be alright....?"

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby came over with their food. "An order of fries, a cheeseburger with extra ketchup, and a vanilla milkshake!" he said proudly, laying out the food for them. "Enjoy!"

He clapped his hands, and only then noticed that Cirri wasn't looking like her usual self. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"you doing ok, kid?" he asked gently. "I hope you're not working yourself to death over here! Tell you what, it's calming down a bit, Gaster and I can handle this so you take a break, alright?"

Papyrus gratefully took his milkshake. "Thankssssss dad," he said with a faint slur. "Looks . . . looks great." He picked up his spoon with a trembling hand, then suddenly collapsed, falling face-first on the table.

Grillby started, reaching over to grab him. "PAPYURUS?! Are you ok?!"

Sans reached over, grabbing his brother's arm. "Bro?! You ok?!"

Papyrus only groaned.

Angel: Cirri blinked dazedly "Is...something wrong..." she never finished her sentence as she quietly slumped into Grillby's side

"Cirri!" Jasper cried pulling her towards him. "Cirri wake up!"

Cirri didn't respond, an unnatural flush on her face

"What happened?! They were fine just a second ago?!"

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans grabbed the candy, glaring at it.

". . . I don't know." he muttered before stashing it away.

The commotion brought Gaster out of the back room running. He was at Grillby's side in an instant, looking over Papyrus and Cirri.

<<For God's sake, everyone back off!>> Gaster shouted. The gathering crowds did so.

"Gaster, they suddenly fainted. I don't know what happened, they-"

<<Poison,>> Gaster said lowly and with ferocious conviction. <<They've been poisoned.>> He grabbed Cirri and Papyrus in his arms. <<I want to know exactly what-">>

Sans tentatively pulled out the bag of mysterious candy.

"Gaster," he said slowly. "They . . . just ate this right before they fainted."

He wordlessly took the bag of candy, his glare fierce enough to reduce ice to a puddle.

<<I will tend to the both of them at the labs. Find whoever made this candy and bring them in.>>

He disappeared in a flash of blue light.

Angel: "Sans, the vendor-!" Jasper was already jumping to his feet. "Someone Call the Guard!" He shouted as he beelined for the door, Genocidal thoughts on his mind when he got ahold of the Discoball monster.

Angel: Jasper plowed through the crowd until he reached the same stalls that he had just purchased the candy from. "WHERE ARE THEY?!" Jasper roared scaring the crap out of every monster within earshot

"Who?!" Yelped a rabbit selling butterscotch toffees. "The monster with the Discoball head! Where the Hell are they?!" Jasper snarled, spikes beginning to sprout out of his back

"Jasper!" Malachite arrived on the scene with two other guards in tow. "What's going on? I heard a commotion at Grillby's and saw you running like a Human was after you!"

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans was right behind him. "It's Cirri and my brother Paps! They were poisoned by the candy we got from the vendor! They were right HERE!!!" his teeth were noticeably sharper, and his fists shook. "Some bastard sold us candy they knew was rotten and now they're both sick!"

Angel: "I don't know what they're talking about!" The Rabbit yelped obviously alarmed by the two near-rabid monsters in front of them. "There was never any discoball monster here!"

Malachite scowled. "You do realize lying is going to get you into a lot of trouble right?" he intoned dangerously

"Ask anybody here! We all set up together at the same time!" The rabbit motions to the other vendors.

Malachite motions to the other guards. "you two go through the vendors, any customers, Anybody who's been in the area in the past hour." the two guards nodded and parted "Sans, Jasper, let us search, you're too wound up to be any good right now." Mal insisted. "Wait back at Grillby's I'll fill you in when we find out anything."

Angel: After seeing the two off Malachite pulled out his cell and dialed a specific number. "Lieutenant Sphex? It's Officer Malachite, we have a situation with the Gaster Family. A Bad one."

Angel: Jasper sat in the booth he had been in with his girl and his friends not an hour before, his chin on the table a mournful kicked-puppy expression as he stared a hole into the seat that Cirri had sat in.

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby reached across the table, placing a hand on Jasper's forearm. "They're in good hands. You know there's no better doctor in the whole underground than Gaster. And you even brought him the source. He'll have both of them fixed up in no time."

Sans was still glowering. "What the hell, we were all there!" Sans said furiously. "That freaky monster convinced Jasper to buy the candy! And no one else spotted them?! The hell is going on?!"

Grillby shook his head. "I wish I knew."

"Then I'll sniff them down myself!"

"Sans, you will do no such thing," Grillby said furiously. "The guards will handle this, the dogs are the best trackers in the Underground-"

"But I can help!"

"Please, Sans," Grillby begged. "Have patience."

Angel: the Door of the restuarant opened and Malachite came in with a mangy looking cat-monster with even mangier wings sprouted from his back. "Ahem. Mr. Grillby I'm Lieutenant Sphex, Officer Malachite has briefed me on the situation." Jasper perked up immediately. "How are your Son and Foster-Daughter?"

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby stood. "They are in the hands of Dr. Gaster in the Hotlands labs. They are getting looked at as we speak. I have full confidence in his ability to restore their health and fix whatever ails them."

Angel: Sphex nodded somehow looking mangier. "Mr. Jasper yes? You claimed to have purchased a bag of candy from a monster with a Disco-ball for a head yes?"

Jasper frowned "...yes?"

Angel: "We've found no signs of this monster I'm afraid." Sphex said in an unconvincingly sympathetic voice. "Moreso We've got a witness saying something fairly disturbing-"

"Sir the monster in question was Drunk off their ass their testimony-"

"Is Circumstancial, yes I'm aware Officer!" Sphex interrupted. "But your brother is a known and verbal Human-Sympathizer, and we all know what Gaster built his "Sons" for Originally." Sphex grimaced.

Angel: Jasper stood up "Sans and Papyrus Saw me buy the candy!" He intoned "You can't be seriously saying I-"

"At this point monsters are aware that one of Gasters "Human Killers" has been poisoned." Sphex said "They're scared and in sore need of some reassurance, especially with the chaos the Underground has been in the last couple of months." he smiled, which looked even worse than his grimace. "You're not under arrest young man. But for everyone's sake we'll have to keep you for questioning."

IchikoWindGryphon: Grillby stood, his composure cool but somehow subtly terrifying. Perhaps it was the way his pale eyes fixated on the guard, or the way his fire seemed to roar and crackle like an animal, or in his stone-still posture other than the living flames flickering over his body.

"We will be happy to assist you in any way we can to find the monster responsible," Girillby said in a whisper of a voice, placing one hand on Sans' shoulder. "But I can assure you this: Jasper is the absolute last person who would be responsible for poisoning Cirri and Papyrus."

Angel: Sphex flinched. "I-I'm sure we have nothing to worry about then." He coughed into his hand. "In the meantime, Officer Malachite, please detain the Supsect."

"Mal please..." Jasper murmured as his bother approached trying very hard to remain emotionless, only a flicker of pain as he pulled out the Magic-Dampening cuffs.

"They're only letting me do this much Bro. I'm "Too Close." " Mal said "Please just go along with this for now." Jasper nodded holding up his hands for Malachite to put the cuffs on. "Sans, lemmie know how Cirri and Paps are doing alright?"

IchikoWindGryphon: Sans frowned, but nodded. "I'll let you know when Dad fixes them, you'll be the first to know." Grillby kept a firm hand on Sans' shoulder, knowing he might snap and say something foolish. They just had to be patient for the time being.

IchikoWindGryphon: Back at Hotland, Gaster had laid Cirri and Papyrus on cots side-by-side, monitors tracking their condition. Both were stable, in no small part thanks to Jasper and Sans' quick reaction, and he managed to stave off the worst of the poison. But it wasn't looking good. In only minutes it had rendered both monster's HP to critically low levels and rendered them unconscious. It took a lot just to get them in the stable state they were in now. But now the worst was over, and Gaster could focus on isolating the poison from the candy and developing an antidote.

Slipping on some latex gloves, he pulled out a piece of candy and prepared to run it through every test under the sun. Or, mountain in their case.

Gaster would not rest until this mystery was solved.

Angel: Meanwhile the Rabbit monster Jasper had yelled at was entering his house- to find an Ice Monster in a blue hood waiting for them. "Did you succeed?"

"Yeah yeah. It was easy." the rabbit scowled. "Man, we monsters really need to be more suspicious, it was pathetic really." he added pulling on a red and black leather jacket. "You got my money?"

The Ice Ninja reached into one long sleeve to pull out a bag that clinked with many gold coins as it fell to the floor. "Lord Vulpeca is very pleased, we may work again at a later date in order to strengthen Monster-Kind."

#DUN DUN DUNNNNNN #Waff-Related #Grillby #Papyrus #OC's EVERYWHERE

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rosyredlipstick · 8 years ago

Text

sellin’ little bottles of love potion number nine pt. 2

An update thats been long delayed. Can anyone guess everyone’s outfits? Enjoy the Conchell!

A few young girls - Hermes, he’s guessing from the curl in their hair and the mischief in their eyes - approached the counter, their own superhero costumes flashy and brightly colored.

Lacey’s cheeks flushed as red as her flowery dress. “Hey Alice.”

The Hermes girl grinned, trademark mischief glinting in her eye, and waved at Lacey from over her shoulder. Her Kamala Khan costume was surprisingly well done, and she twisted her long red scarf around her arm as she eyed Lacey with interest. Lacey, stuttering through her sentences the entire time the girls were at the counter, only grew a shade darker as Alice blew her a kiss as she left.

Stefan, an always helpful sideliner, beat his head against the counter in frustration.

Mitchell slid his hand under Stefan’s forehead, not even looking over at his mess of a brother or mess of a flirting sister. Not like he could say much considering the beginning of he and Connor’s relationship, but still.

“Lacey’s got a cruuuuush!” Sophia sang out once the girls were completely out of earshot, grinning widely behind an opened pamphlet. Piper snorted at that, filling another few bags to replace the ones taken.

“She’s perfect.” Lacey only sighed, “She’s so funny and adventurous and beautiful and I love her.”

Mitchell groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t go after a Hermes kid, Lacey, they’re only trouble and surprise.”

“Aren’t you like, totally in love with Connor though?” Stefan questioned, fixing his already thin purple vest to expose more of his bare chest.

“Yeah, aren’t you like, totally in love with Connor or something?” Mitchell spun around, a grin already blooming across his face. He jumped forward, his arms already reaching around the other boy’s neck. “Connor! You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here.” His hands went around Mitchell’s waist, pulling him in tight for a hug. “I kind of run the place, in case you haven’t heard.”

Mitchell grinned, playfully pushing him away. He immediately contradicted his action by pulling the other boy close right after.

“And you are…” Connor nodded approvingly, “Peter Pan. I approve.”

“Travis said you would.” Mitchell agreed, his wrists still hanging off the other boy’s neck. “And Captain America. Never knew I was so patriotic until this moment.”

Sebastian’s laugh was low behind him, and Mitchell had to take a moment to remind himself he was in front of his family.

“Hermes is Marvel.” Connor explained, shrugging, and they both ignored Asher’s Which is technically Disney!

“So.” Connor gave him a small grin, and Mitchell wanted to kiss it right off of him. And other things. “Sex-ed booth? In the camp store? And you’re getting away with it?”

“You bet your hot ass we are!” Stefan grinned, flicking a pack of lube over at them. Piper rolled her eyes at him - mostly affectionate - and caught Connor’s eye. She was smoothing one of the dental dam packets over the counter before slipping it into one of the bags, speaking clearly.

“Some kids live at camp their whole lives.” Piper shrugged, “It’s important that they - including others who don’t have access to this kind of education - are informed.”

“You get a lil’ gift bag.” Lacey informed him, “Absolutely full of condoms. Want one?”

“Sure.” Connor shrugged, “Got any red, white, and blue?”

Lacey peeked inside one of the bags, “I got neon pink and a few glow in the dark ones in here.”

“Perfect.” Connor grinned, “I’m sure my company will be very pleased.”

Mitchell let out a wobbly sigh, digging his tongue into his cheek to keep his comments to himself.

“Maybe we should get out of here.” He grinned, letting his allure affect the other boy. Not that he needed to use much, no, but it was always fun to see the other boy’s cheeks redden and glow at the use.

Connor was nodding before Mitchell could finish his sentence, “Yes. Yes. I completely, totally, a thousand percent agree.”

“Do you wanna -”

One of the older Hermes girls jogged up to the both of them, breathing heavily and calling their attention towards her. “Connor! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! Something’s totally wrong with the chocolate fountains, and the cotton candy machine is jamming up, not to mention….”

Connor, under his hands, was only growing tenser with each of her words. Mitchell sighed, pecking the other boy softly on the cheek, hiding his disappointment carefully. His thumb swept over the other boy’s cheek, smoothing out the regretful frown on Connor’s face. “Go. We’ll catch up later.”

Connor shot him a grateful, but sorry, look. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Go, save the party of the year.” Mitchell gave him a soft smile, pulling away before he could do something ridiculous, like attach himself octopus-like to the other boy. He was feeling especially clingy today, and he didn’t even mind this fact.

He sighed, watching Connor being pulled away in the other direction by his many responsibilities.

He turned back to his siblings, annoyed by their heavy stares. “I’m gonna go mope in our cabin now.” He informed them, turning on his heel. Sure, he was being a bit petty, but hell was it bad to crave more than two minutes with his boyfriend?

He threw himself on his cot, immediately thankful for the comfortable reminder of his true home. His favorite blanket was already spread across the sheets, and he was unsure which of his siblings were to thank for that. His costume was probably getting wrinkled, and he could nearly hear Scarlett’s horrified screech at that, but he despite that he continued to curl into his sheets.

He vaguely heard someone shuffle through the door, and he prayed it was a pitiful soul who wouldn’t bother him. He wanted to wallow in quiet.

His cot began to creak under the increased weight on the side, and he felt a weight lean into his side. He resisted the urge to groan in irritation. He pried open an eyelid, only vaguely surprised to see his older sister leaning over him, a small frown in place.

“What are you doing.” She asked, her voice not even a question.

He resisted the urge to bury his face into his pillow, knowing his makeup would only swear across the fabric and his skin. “Moping. Leave me alone.”

“Why.”

Mitchell sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I just thought we’d be able to have some alone time before the party. Just...talk. I knew he’d be busy, but I forgot how it went.” Mitchell sighed, bringing his arm back down to his side. “The tragedy of having an amazing boyfriend is having to share him with everyone else.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Mitchell vaguely hoped that Drew would take that as her queue to leave. But, as the world scarcely took his hopes to action, she only sighed and leaned in closer.

Drew pulled on his arm. “C’mon, the Hermes kids found an ice cream truck.”

Mitchell paused at that, his disappointment dashed in favor of wide eyes. He allowed himself to be pulled up, staring at her in confusion. “They...found an ice cream truck?”

Drew popped her gum at him. “Don’t ask too many questions or Chiron is obligated to take it away. Now c’mon.”

Mitchell observed her for a moment, her fluffing her faux fur spotted coat and black and white wig in the mirror, ignoring his stare.

“You've gotten better.” He told her, his voice soft but unsurprised. “You're kinder.”

Her face wrinkled into a look of disgust, her red lipstick sneering along at him. “Don't insult me.”

Her remark was essentially ruined by Sabrina’s high pitched squeal as the younger girl came crashing into Drew's side, smooching her face into Drew's heavy fur coat.

Drew’s hand came to rest on the back of Sabrina’s head automatically, along with a warning glare shot in Mitchell’s direction.

Mitchell help up his hands in surrender, turning his head to hide his wide grin that threatened to emerge.

“Let’s go, little one.” Drew balanced Sabrina on her hip, brushing her lips over the other girl’s giggling face. She shot a look towards Mitchell, “I’m talking to you as well, little one.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes, “Four months!” He blew air up into his bangs, “You’re older by four months!”

She grinned at that, mostly hidden behind Sabrina’s head. “Four months is still four months. And I am wiser than you by far more.”

He followed her out, fixing his sash on his way out. As much as he wanted to sit in his sadness a moment ago, it wasn’t really the way to spend a holiday. He should be soaking in his sibling's company, enjoying Stefan’s sass, Micah’s eye rolls and Lacey and Sophia’s shared laughter. Also, ice cream.

Sabrina was going on about the kind of ice cream she wanted - an orange creamsicle, apparently - when they paused in their tracks, a bit shocked, a bit hysterical, completely amused at the sight that met them.

Chiron stared at them, a runny ice cream drumstick dripping down his knuckles. “Children.” He stated, his voice stiff.

“Chiron.” They greeted, their voices neutral and free from emotion. All except Sabrina’s, who voice was laced with a soft giggle.

“I will be going now.” He told them, looking away from them. “I will be...going now.” He began walking away, ignoring the soft giggles that escaped from Sabrina, and half-turned towards them. “If anyone shall inquire to this event….I do not approve of the alleged thief of the truck.”

“Of course not,” Mitchell agreed smoothly. “We’re all well-aware.”

Chiron nodded his head, “Good...good.” He turned, walking slowly back to the Big House.

They managed to save their laughter until their camp leader was out of sight, and then they were gone.

Drew was giggling like Mitchell had never seen, like she always tried to hide. Sabrina, always the giggler, was beaming with this shared experience, glowing at the rare sound of her idolized sister’s loose laugh.

Mitchell snored on his laughter. “I just, this is amazing.” He shook his head, beginning to walk again. “That was perfect.”

Sabrina, still giggling, was hanging off Drew as always, and beamed when they came into the sight of their siblings. Asher, near the back of the crowd, waved at them as they drew near.

“C’mon matey, the party’s starting.” Asher cocked his head, his wig going a bit off. Mitchell cracked a smile at that, fixing it for his brother. Asher nodded in thanks, leading them both towards the increasing music, and disappeared into the crowd, probably to find his own source of ice cream. Mitchell, trusting the random Demeter boy, took a strawberry cone for himself.

He managed to find a more empty piece of land, a few of his siblings lingering around. Drew disappeared, on the search for a tub of lemon ice cream – her secret pleasure.

“Mitchell!” Piper’s voice yelled right before she was crashing into his side, her arms tight around his waist. “I didn’t get to properly say hello earlier, how are you?”

Mitchell laughed a bit, careful to keep his ice cream cone from smearing all over her. “It’s good to see you, Piper.” He told her sincerely, “It’s has been great, I love California.”

Piper pulled away, grinning as she did so. “Living in the mortal world with Sebastian, huh? How’s that going?”

Mitchell groaned playfully, “I love him, I do.” He began, Piper erupting into laughter already. “But I swear to the gods if that boy doesn’t stop flirting with every pair of legs that walks by I will shoot an arrow through him.”

A voice spoke up, interrupting the end of his sentence. “Don’t worry, I get enough arrows shoved through me to keep me happy.” Sebastian walked by, his hips a sway, his voice a breeze.

Piper started crackling over Mitchell’s groan as he covered his eyes.

“I hate you!” He called after his brother.

“See you at home, darling!” Seb shouted back, smirking, as he turned to grin at some faintly smiling Athena girl.

Mitchell sighed, rolling his eyes, and hoped to the gods his brother was being safe.

“Who’s running the booth?” Mitchell asked, changing the subject and turning back to Piper. He took a large bite of his strawberry cone. Damn, he loved ice cream, and damn did he deserve it.

“Stefan and Valentina are running it until 7, and then we’ll leave the pamphlets and gift bags on a table so we can all enjoy the party.” She swept her hair over her shoulder, making a face at a stray leaf caught in the thick locks. She sighed, “I hate wearing it loose. It just gets...everywhere.”

“Try some of Scarlett’s product.” He advised, tipping his cone at her. “Scarlett’s got the thickest hair ever; her product will keep anything from catching in it.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful. “I just might.” She smoothed the tan fabric over her legs, messing with her blue jeweled necklace for a moment.

“How’s Jason doing?” Mitchell took a bite of his cone, enjoying the taste. The cone was always his favorite part.

She nodded, lighting up with the mention of her infamous boyfriend. “He’s making good process with the minor gods cabins - he just finished the Nyx and Hemera cabins. Annabeth’s been helping design them, they look great.”

Mitchell hummed, Annabeth’s many forced Greek history lessons coming back to him. “Night and daylight, huh? They must look cool. I’ll have to stop by.”

She nodded in excitement, looking ready to continue on, before Sabrina was pulling onto the bottom of her baggy pants and giving Piper a significant look.

Piper shot him an apologetic look. “I promised to take Sabrina to one of the trick of treating events the Hermes kids set up. I’ll see you before you leave?” She asked, her voice a bit hopeful.

Mitchell nodded, “Definitely.” He said, meaning it. Piper had gotten so much better at dividing her time up with her siblings, and Mitchell was kind of stupidly proud of her.

Sabrina waved at him as she climbed onto Piper’s back, both of them wearing matching blinding grins as she raced off towards the cabins. Mitchell waved them disappear, the glow in his chest a familiar feeling around his siblings.

He finished his ice cream and wandered around, watching and absorbing the festive around him. The Demeter cabin was helping caramelize apples, and their single booth alone was successful in filling nearly the entire camp with a heavily fragrance. Some Hermes kids were bent behind the counter he noticed, probably trying to steal some caramel for questionable purposes, and they waved at Mitchell as he passed.

“Hey.” A voice, deep and familiar in the best ways possible, whispered in his voice, and a pair of warm arms were circling themselves around his bare waist.

A bubble of warmth immediately flared up in Mitchell’s chest. He turned, his hand coming up to cup the other boy’s cheek as it rested on his shoulder. “Hey yourself.”

Mitchell turned in the embrace, so incredibly grateful to see Connor’s face, a bit tired, grinning back at him. “You’re dirty.” He observed, tracing the trail of dirt down the other boy’s face.

Connor wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m always dirty for you, sweetheart.”

Mitchell bit down a laugh at that, grinning and delighted at his boyfriend.

“Sorry about that.” Connor tipped his forehead against the other boy’s, letting his long curls brush against Mitchell’s nose in the movement.

“You had to leave.” Mitchell shrugged, “It happens. You’ll have to make it up for me in other ways, I guess.”

“I can’t do a lot about it.” His fingers traced across Mitchell’s chest, catching on his sash. “But I can do one thing.”

He said this leaning in, brushing his lips across Mitchell’s earlobe. Mitchell’s breath hitched, his own hands coming up to twist in the Connor’s curls, and he was so incredibly thankful for the fact of their isolation. “Yeah? What can you do?” And Mitchell’s words were barely that, more breath than sound.

Connor paused for a moment, his mouth hovering dangerously close to the pale skin on Mitchell’s neck. “I can go get you some punch, that’s what I can do.”

Mitchell froze as Connor pulled away, the absence of the other boy’s heat so sudden that he shivered. “Wait, what?” He was still for a moment before a blush began to climb its way up his chest, “Connor, what?”

Connor’s only answer was his loud, trailing laughter, which, okay, wasn’t a bad answer at all.

Mitchell huffed, a little embarrassed, mostly red. He threw himself down on the nearest log, thankful the area around them was mostly deserted and pouted until Connor was back, still laughing about the entire situation.

“I hate you.” Mitchell swore, taking the colorful cup for himself. He took a hesitate sniff. Watermelon, his favorite. He tried to hide the impressed look he wanted to shoot Connor.

“It’s Watermelon.” Connor told him, a bit smug. “Your favorite.”

“Is this spiked? Mitchell asked, swishing the liquid around in his cup.

“‘Course not.” Connor answered, relaxing next to him on the log. He paused, “Why? You want some?”

Mitchell shoved his shoulder into Connor’s chest, no real force behind the movement. “You just want to get me tipsy.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, considering. “You’re very...demanding once you’ve had a few.”

Mitchell ducked his head, red climbing up his exposed chest. “Shut up.”

He laughed, giving Mitchell a look as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Hey, you’re the one who ripped my shirt last time. Just sayin’. I wouldn’t be against it.”

On queue almost, Mitchell’s cheeks burst with a flash of heat, his face no doubt an unflattering shade of tomato. He got loud when he was drunk, and apparently feisty, and neither of these were facts that Connor was never going to let him live down.

Suddenly, just as Mitchell was about to resort with something hilarious and witty, his brother was crouched in front of both of him, grinning.

Sebastian was grinning wickedly at both of them, “We’re putting together a party game to finally get Lacey and that Hermes girl together, you two in? We need warm bodies.”

“What is it with the Aphrodite and Hermes kids?” Mitchell sighed, shooting a playful look towards Connor.

“We’re irresistible.” Connor teased, standing. “Anyways, Alice has been freaking out anytime Lacey looked in her direction for the past two months, this will do us all much good.”

Sebastian smirked at that, “Almost as bad as you were, huh?”

A soft red colored Connor’s cheeks. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Mitchell groaned at that, picking himself off the log and holding out a hand for Connor to take. “You were worst hun.” Mitchell shook his head, “You threw food at me. Multiple times. Solely for attention.”

“I did no such thing and you have no proof.” Connor told him, taking Mitchell’s hand and following him. Sebastian was already few yards ahead of them, apparently bored of their banter and looking for entertainment for tonight.

“Mitchell, just in time.” Scarlett grinned dangerously, flipping her long dark curls over her shoulder. “Go on, sit. We’re about to begin.”

“What are we playing?” Mitchell asked as he pulled Connor down next to him, proud of the low amount of suspicion coming out in his voice.

Her grin was wide and low, “Seven minutes in Olympus, of course.”

They had played a few times before, of course. It worked wonders for getting their own cabin mates together in situations like this. An Aphrodite kid knew what they wanted, and wasn’t usually afraid to go after it.

Connor was snickering into his shoulder as the game began, one of the male Hermes boys getting picked on in the first round, paired with a shy looking Janus girl.

Lacey, cross-legged and wide-eyed, sat next to Sophia, both girls looking excited and whispering back and forth to each other. Mitchell watched them both with a small smile, and remembered when they first met a few years ago, and how worried Mitchell was they wouldn’t get along. Now, as best friends and sisters, Mitchell couldn’t believe he ever felt that way.

Scarlett pulled out a few decoy couples of course – although, as a rule, the couples were always thoughtful matches that they had always thought would be cute together. The Aphrodite cabin was never much for wasted opportunity. Scarlett drew their attention back, her grin wicked and wide as she swirled her hand around the pot. She always liked to make a show of things, especially like this, especially dressed in that outfit.

Scarlett held up the papers, two little scrolls pressed between her too-sharp fingernails. Her purple skirt, gold circles hanging off the fabric, swirled around her legs and bare feet as she walked, drawing out the process as much as possible. When she spoke, her voice was low and filled with glee.

“Will and Mitchell.” She read out, a devil’s grin on her face. Her dancing eyes landed on Mitchell, already rolling his eyes, and he could tell this had been a part of the plan the entire time.

Mitchell sighed, rolling his eyes. “Really Scarlett?”

“What are you talking about, I have nothing to do with the selection process.” She told him, her voice clear of any emotion, but her eyes filled to the brim with laughter. Connor, the traitor, only shook with laughter against Mitchell’s shoulder.

“I’m going to have sex with Will Solace.” Mitchell told him, unimpressed. “It will be amazing and mind-blowing and I’ll be forced to leave you for him.”

“Have fun, babe.” Connor waved, grinning. “Good luck with dealing with Nico.”

Mitchell clicked his tongue, glaring at him and Scarlett with equal emotion. He carefully avoided Nico’s eyesight though, because Mitchell was a weak, weak man.

He and Will were shoved into the now deserted camp store, the shutters down and low lighting in place.

Will, still laughing, leaned against the counter, eyeing Mitchell with amusement. “Your cabin’s doing, I assume?” He held up a condom in between two fingers, laughter in his eyes.

Mitchell huffed out a sigh suspiciously close to a laugh. “They just don’t know when to stop.”

Will took off his mask, his red suit muted in the semi-darkness. “I mean, I’m totally for it. Less STDs I have to treat, the better.”

They both laughed at that, and Mitchell his lip in a considering manner. “You wanna try and pull something?”

Will eyes were already twinkling with mischief. “What’s the plan?”

Mitchell told him quickly, a mental countdown only reminding him of their dwindling time as he explained. Will nodded, a bit excited, and tucked his mask away.

“Nico won’t believe it.” Will stated confidently, ruffling up his hair. He began undoing the zipper to expose his chest, and Mitchell thanked the gods for whatever divine intervention they granted him to experience this moment.

Mitchell nodded, agreeing. “But the others just might.” He told Will, stripping the sash across his waist. He messed up his hair a bit, pinching color into his cheeks, and began biting down on his lip, trying to get it to swell up.

He paused, “Do you think Connor will go for it?”

Mitchell flashed him a grin, “Not unless we don’t give him a reason.” Mitchell pulled a tube out of a hidden pocket, gesturing for Will to draw in closer.

“I’m just gonna smear it a bit…” Mitchell wiped a bit of color across the other boy’s lips, Will as still and compliant as a perfect model. Mitchell grinned, admiring the blush of color across Will’s lips, and the exceptionally nice lipstick now staining both of their lips.

“You should - “ Will gestured to Mitchell’s own lips, and Mitchell nodded. He ran his hand over his lips lightly, grinning at their wit.

“Ready?” Mitchell turned their faces, and knew that if anyone walked in at that moment, they would, for all appearances, be kissing.

Will laughed, causing a whisper of hot breath to brush over Mitchell’s face. Just outside the door, he could hear them loudly counting down the time.

5...4...3...2...1!

They were met with wolf whistles almost immediately as the door opened, and they both faked a stumble out, like they were interrupted.

His sister, eyeing and knowing, only rolled her eyes. “Next!” She called, gesturing to some poor blushing pair of girls. It wasn’t Lacey and Alice, not yet, but Mitchell could see how Scarlett’s eyes kept catching on the pair, and how her fingers combed through the papers. They would be up soon.

Will laughed, bumping their hips together. Mitchell grinned, overdramatically coy. “I’ll see you later, Solace!” He bit his lip, mostly for show and also for the brilliant fact of Will’s retreating zipper.

Mitchell turned back to his seat, enjoying the bright red that was currently covering his boyfriend’s cheeks. It was hard to make a Stoll blush. He was allowed to enjoy it when it happened, it was a fact.

“Jealous much, Stoll?” Mitchell grinned, cocking his hip out as he walked back. Almost immediately, the other boy was on him like an octopus, his hands circling around Mitchell’s waist and chest.

“I know what you’re doing.” Connor’s voice was muffled, his face buried in Mitchell’s neck. “You’re putting out of ton of your love child hormones and you’re driving me crazy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mitchell told him, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Connor’s neck. He liked that place, where he could just tangle his fingers with the short curls at the back of his neck.

Connor huffed out a laugh, “Well, you’re shirtless and that’s basically the same thing. Did you get lucky?”

Mitchell buried his face in Connor’s neck, “Considering I’m sitting in the lap of the cutest boy in camp, I would definitely say I got lucky somewhere.”

“Second cutest. I’m the one who managed to snag an Aphrodite kid, after all.” Connor grinned up at him, “Although, you’re right. I am quite a catch.”

Mitchell hummed, resting his cheek in the other boy’s curls. They were gelled back earlier, to better fit the American Dream inspiration he supposed, but they had broken free of the product hours ago. Like the boy himself, his curls were wild and hard to contain.

And, also like the boy himself, Mitchell enjoyed them the most when they were under his hand.

There was a round of squealing laughter from the group, but neither of the boys were paying them any attention.

“When you are leaving?” Connor asked, his voice low. Mitchell noticed he did that, when he was asking questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Lowered his voice, because it was always harder to crack that way. It broke his heart a little every time, and Mitchell could report that it still very much did.

Mitchell brought up his other hand to trace the bright star on Connor’s chest with his fingernail. “The portal closes at midnight.”

“Oh.” He only answered, his arm coming up to circle around Mitchell’s shoulder. “I thought...I don’t know.”

Mitchell swallowed, his hand pausing to sprawl across the image on his chest. Connor’s chest rose and fell with heavy weight, and the other boy took a moment to close his eyes, tipping his head closer to the other boy.

He turned his face into Mitchell’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I could...I can always book a flight.” Mitchell spoke softly, surprising himself. He continued, “I can...I can stay for a bit.”

Connor’s arm tightened around Mitchell, unwilling to let himself hope. “Don’t you have class this week? What about your history test? And that physics project? You’ll miss too much.”

So incredibly touched that he remembered, that he thought of the silly things Mitchell would ramble on about during their Iris messages, he took a moment to bend down and press a dry kiss to the underside of Connor’s throat. He tipped down Connor’s chin, waiting until the other boy showed his brilliant, bright eyes before he spoke.

“I miss you more.” He gave the other boy a small smile. “I’ve got about a year’s worth of absences saved up, and I know for a fact Seb is staying for another few days.” He wanted to shoot a look to where his younger brother was talking up one of the twin Nike counselors - Holly, maybe? - but he didn’t want to pull away from the moment. “I’m staying.” He was sure in that moment, seeing the spark of hope ignite in the other boy’s firework eyes. Mitchell grinned, suddenly so sure of what to say. Of what to do. “I just haven't decided...” Mitchell spoke again, peeking up at him through his eyelashes, “Where am I staying tonight?”

Connor took a deep breath, and even Mitchell could tell how much hope was in that movement. He held out his hand. “I know a place.”

Mitchell grinned, taking his hand. “I look forward to getting the tour.”

“Back from your Walk of Flame, I see.” Sebastian observed, his grin as vicious as a shark. “This’ll be my...second?”

“Of the night?”

“Of course.” He dismissed, turning back to reapply his eyeliner. Looks like he was still planning on a third. Mitchell ran a hand through his greasy hair, wincing at the dried sweat on his skin.

“Walk of ‘flame’?” Valentina questioned quietly, turning to whomever nearest. There were some unnamable demigods passed out on the floor, and Mitchell was sure half of Aphrodite kids were still missing, but that was expected at this hour, on this morning. It was still dark and hardly four, anyways.

Piper sighed, “Scarlett made it up - because she looks, and I quote, ‘radiant as a damn flame’ during her after-sex walk home.”

“I...see.” She accepted quietly, turning back to massage her sore feet. She had a passed out Ron Weasley in her bed, Hogwarts robes with red hair and all, that she seemed to be tending to.

Mitchell sighed, stepping over a barely dressed Demeter boy, and ignored the lingering scent of alcohol in the air. He made his way over to the showers, wanting nothing more than lavender scented soap and steaming water.

“Where’s Sabrina?” He asked, eyeing Piper, a bit surprised she was here. With Jason, and his entirely empty cabin, he was surprised she’d appeared at all during the party.

“One of Hebe girls hosted a sleepover for the younger kids because she knew that most of the cabins would be otherwise occupied.” She grinned as she said this eyeing, no doubt, the low bruise on his neck that Connor managed to leave. She turned back to polishing the first place trophy in her lap, and Mitchell had no doubt that the trophy was passed on from sibling to siblings with the utmost care all night. “I’m surprised to see you back so early after being…otherwise occupied.”

Mitchell stuck his tongue out, not really caring for his childishness at the moment. He was tired and gross.

Asher passed over one of their fluffier towels without looking, and he’s said it before, and he’ll most definitely say it again, thank the gods for Asher.

“And he didn’t even make you breakfast?” He teased, his eyes twinkling with laughter as Mitchell tried to escape into the bathroom. He paused at that, his body freezing.

Mitchell swallowed, and considered his brother’s words. The towel, just a moment ago worshipped, slipped out of his hands and onto the floor.

“He…” Mitchell sighed, bringing back the details he’d just managed to pushed out of his mind. He gripped the doorway, leaning on it a bit too much. His voice was weak, war-torn. “He bought out a Denny’s.”

There was a pause, and Mitchell hadn’t considered how many of his siblings were eavesdropping

“He did….what?” Lacey’s voice was quiet as she whispered to probably Sophia. Mitchell sighed again, rubbing a hand over his greasy eyes.

“I don’t know how he did it...I really, honestly don’t. But I woke up and there was an amount of food to feed a literal army, or at least the Ares cabin after a workout.” He paused, remembering the true, horrific amount of food that was spread before him only hours before. “There was...so...much...toast.” He shuttered, “Every kind of egg, laid out…”

“Why Denny’s?” Scarlett whispered, disgust screwing up her face. He hadn’t noticed her coming in, but she had apparently heard enough. Without looking, she took the golden trophy from Piper’s lap and cradled it to her chest.

Mitchell shrugged, “I just woke up and...It was everywhere.” He shuttered, “I don’t think I can ever eat breakfast food again.”

“Sounds like a Will Solace wet dream.” Sebastian observed, leaning against the wall, probably now distracted with the words ‘Will Solace wet dream’.

There was a moment of quiet. “Is there….is there any left?” Stefan held up his hands in surrender at their sharp looks, “What? I’m starving. And everyone knows the Mess Hall only serves oatmeal on Tuesdays.” He suddenly grinned, low and suggestive. “I had a hard, long night after all.”

“With that Iris kid?” Sebastian thought for a moment before nodding in approval. “Good job.”

Mitchell held his hands up, pushing the thoughts from his mind. “I’m done - I’m - I’m just gonna shower.” He told them, pulling his borrowed shirt off and turning his back to them.

There was a gasp, “Are those scratches?” Scarlett’s voice was high and absolutely filled with barely hidden glee.

Mitchell sighed, slamming the door on them, and rejoiced in his rare moment of silence. But he smiled softly at their shared bells of laughter, despite what he was feeling in that moment.

Regardless of their craziness, Mitchell wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

He paused as several wolf-whistles echoed after the slamming of his door, and briefly reconsidered.

With the heavy addition of their craziness, Mitchell would probably trade them for a case of Mountain Dew. A six pack, if desperate.

#conchell #fic #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #trials of apollo #connor stoll #I am in love with connor stoll

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