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wangxianficrecs · 3 years ago

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Follower Recs

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Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?! @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home

by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.

Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.

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Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa

Covered in Bees

by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?

“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”

Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.

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Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!] Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out

The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon

by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)

Summary: Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.

He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.

But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.

To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.

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Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14

This love like a flood, a fire, a fear

by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)

Summary: “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.” - Lemony Snicket

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i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi

Waiting for Spring

by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)

Summary: “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.

Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Or, a Major League Baseball AU

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hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)

Something Good

by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)

Summary: "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."

As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.

A Sound of Music AU

MDZS: The Golden Engine

by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)

Summary: In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.

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Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!] I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.

The Red Ribbon

by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)

Summary: Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.

My Fox

by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)

Summary: Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.

Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.

Catfish

by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.

Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.

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Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!] ~ @highgoddess

Song of Joy and Regrets

by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.

~*~

Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!] Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.

Under a Blanket of Black Wings

by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.

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Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]

Key Differences

by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary: “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”

“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.

(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).

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Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good

take me back to a time

by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)

Summary: Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.

It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.

It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.

So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”

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Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!

this one?

on restitution

by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)

Summary: When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.

Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.

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Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom! [Thank you, sweetie! And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom. It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan

Lapsteel

by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)

Summary: Now and then, I think about you now and then...

It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?

Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.

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#wangxian fic rec #follower recs #wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #follower rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years ago

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Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k

Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin

Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.

A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”

A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly.

“Surprise?” He said softly.

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.

“Did I wake you?”

Yoongi hesitated. “No.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”

“We’ve been texting.”

Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.

“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”

Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes.

The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it.

“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in.

“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yoongi blinked at him.

“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”

“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light.

Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped.

“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.

“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.

“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”

“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi.

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I’m a monster.”

“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.

“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.

Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze.

Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied.

“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”

“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward.

“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”

Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”

“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“I am.”

“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”

Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”

Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”

“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.

“Do you drink blood?”

“Of course I do.”

“Human?”

“When I can.”

“From live people?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”

Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.

“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”

Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”

Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.

“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”

“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”

“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”

Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”

“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.”

“Jimin, I’m gonna…”

Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”

“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”

“Would it turn me into a vampire?”

“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”

Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”

“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.

Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”

“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”

“Which is why you’re so pale too.”

Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”

“R… Resting place?”

“My coffin.”

Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”

“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”

“That you sleep in?”

“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.”

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed.

“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No… Is there anything else different?”

“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”

“Harder.”

Yoongi nodded.

Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”

“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”

Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”

“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”

Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”

“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”

“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”

Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet.

“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.

“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?”

“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”

Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”

“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”

“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”

“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”

Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”

“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”

“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.”

Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.

Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”

Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”

“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified.

Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”

“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”

“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”

“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”

Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”

Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed.

“We can do it today?”

“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”

“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”

“Of course.”

“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”

Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”

“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”

“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”

Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently.

“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”

“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”

“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered.

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush.

“Oh wow…”

Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way.

Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.

Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”

“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”

“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.

“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently.

Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric.

Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning.

Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself.

When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted.

Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person.

A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.

He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length.

“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.

Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene.

“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”

He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.

“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”

He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach.

“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.

“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.

“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.”

He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it.

“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts.

Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep.

“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”

“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”

Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.

Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device.

Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.

As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.

“It’s sore,” he whined.

“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.

On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.

Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…”

Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.

“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”

Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.

On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back.

“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”

The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.

Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.

“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.

“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.

“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts.

Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder.

“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.

“Yes—“

“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”

“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned.

“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him.

The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.

“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.

“No regrets? Still okay with it?”

“Fully… You?”

“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”

Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”

“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”

“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”

“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”

“I know it can be frightening.”

“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged.

“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”

Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.

“Hm?”

“I feel gross.”

“Because of what we did?”

“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”

Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”

“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”

They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”

“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”

“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human.

“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered.

Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.

“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”

Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms.

#thebtswritersclub #yoonmin #jimin x yoongi #yoongi x jimin #jimin smut #yoongi smut #jimin #yoongi #mywriting

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catradoramma · 4 years ago

Note

how about a fic of Adora noticing being the jealous one after noticing other women give Catra attention.

i have been getting prompts like this since Mine, and honestly, hell yea. i deadass started working on this in 2019 and well. its finally finished. this is who i am folks. thanks so much to @kittens-and-foxes, @magicchalkdust, and lunatica (ao3) for the prompts! prompts are still open! i’m just a slave to writers block. evidently

Oh, How the Turntables

| Rated: T | Words: 2,604 | Chapter: 1/1 |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

Or how Adora handles being jealous. A significantly less fun sequel to Mine.

| ao3 | buy me a kofi |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

It wasn’t really that big of a deal. Honestly it wasn’t a big deal at all. In fact it wasn’t even a deal at all. Catra was just making friends. Which Adora, for the record, was extremely happy about.

Catra was making friends with some of the people in the Royal Guard at Bright Moon and it was awesome! People were accepting her! And, like, treating her with respect like she obviously deserves as a literal war hero! So naturally, Adora was happy to hear this. Adora was enthused!

Obviously, okay?

It’s just that Catra had recently become closer with a few of her friends in the Royal Guard which meant they were out all day training and running drills, and then out all night getting drinks and singing bar shanties or whatever soldiers did together. Adora was so glad that Catra was fitting in and being accepted. That goes without saying.

But.

Adora also really, really, really missed her girlfriend.

Like.

Adora missed her a lot.

As simple as that.

Although, it didn’t help that one of Catra’s new friends was the totally smart, pretty and badass Captain Kassandra. And it also didn’t help that Captain Kassandra was definitely Catra’s best friend in the guard which meant Catra and Captain Kassandra were spending the majority of their days together.

Alone.

And it’s not like Adora thought anything would happen! Catra would never cheat, okay? She wouldn’t! She just might...you know. Realize that Captain Kassandra was so, so much better, and smarter, and stronger, and prettier, and cooler than Adora.

And Catra might want to break up.

Which Adora definitely didn’t want.

— . —

“Hey, Catra?” Adora called as she was pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

“Yeah?” Catra called from the closet where she was trying to decide between two identical burgundy sports bras.

“I was, uh,” Adora paused as she grabbed her hair tie with her teeth off her wrist. “I was thinking that it might be fun if we went out tonight? Go into town and grab dinner or something? Have a little date?” She asked with a tentative smile as she finished tying off her hair.

Catra turned to face her properly, lowering both sports bras. “Tonight?” She asked, not sounding excited like Adora had thought she’d be.

The lack of enthusiasm made Adora a little nervous. She licked her lips and continued. “Yeah. We’ve both been really busy lately, and I finally have a night off from--you know--She-Ra stuff. So I was, you know, just wondering if we could, I don’t know. Go on a date,” Adora bumbled, her nerves getting to her the longer she went without an answer.

“Shit, tonight?” Catra asked, her shoulders slumping alongside Adora’s heart. “I can’t. I have a game tonight.”

“Wait, you have a what tonight?” Adora asked, immediately confused.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I meant to tell you. Me and the Guard started up a Softball team. Bright Moon Royal Guard against Entrapta’s Robot Army,” Catra explained, a little smile curling up her lips which Adora knew meant that Catra had really been enjoying playing Softball.

Adora was, admittedly, a little hurt by the fact that Catra hadn’t even thought to tell her about this. Adora was always super supportive of everything Catra did and would have loved the opportunity to cheer her on in a very literal and vocal way.

But, Adora supposed, she had been really busy with She-Ra stuff lately so it made sense that Catra forgot to mention things. Especially when they really only saw each other at dinner and when they got in and out of bed everyday.

Adora pushed down her hurt feelings and pressed on. “Alright, well. When’s the game? I’ll come and maybe we could grab a bite or something after,” she suggested.

Catra winced. “After games, C.K. usually buys everyone a burger,” Catra explained. C.K. So we’re calling Captain Kassandra C.K. now. Adora suddenly craved physical violence.

Catra continued, not noticing Adora’s mounting frustration. “It’s like--I don’t know--a team bonding thing,” Catra explained with a shrug. “You could come to the game though! I’ll hit a homer for you,” she added, sending Adora a deliciously wicked grin that Adora couldn’t even enjoy due to the slowly mounting rage within her.

Adora took a deep breath, suppressing the anger for the time being, and forced a smile. “That sounds awesome, babe. I’ll….be there for the game then.”

Catra grinned at that and darted over to press a kiss to Adora’s cheek. “I’ll look for you in the stands,” she said, practically glowing with happiness, and just like that, all of Adora’s rage and jealousy melted away. This was something Catra enjoyed. Having friends and maintaining them was important to Catra. So it was important to Adora.

Adora turned and stole a proper kiss from Catra. “Leave your alternate jersey for me and I’ll wear it,” she suggested with a soft smile.

Catra nodded eagerly before she disappeared back into the closet. She came back out wearing one of Adora’s white and blue sports bras, and, honestly, that made everything a little better.

— . —

Adora had no idea how Softball worked, but Gods, was she becoming a fan quickly. Everything from the tight white pants Catra wore, to the slashed up cap she wore to let her ears through was doing things for Adora. Adora was pretty sure she was actually learning less about Softball the longer she spent in the stands. Probably because she was happily staring at Catra’s ass instead of the game.

The whole experience probably would have been a net positive if it wasn’t for what happened at the very end of the game. Catra must’ve hit a particularly impressive ball (Adora wasn't exactly paying attention to the ball or where it was going as much as she was focusing on where the hitter was going and doing) because as she dashed around the diamond, everyone around her was cheering and freaking out. The Bright Mood Guard left the make-shift dugout and ran onto the pitch. They swarmed Catra as she passed home. They all wrapped her in a hug before Captain Kassandra tossed her up into the air and then sat Catra on her shoulder.

Jealousy burned inside of Adora. That was Adora’s move! Adora was absolutely the only one allowed to toss Catra into the air and catch her on her shoulder! Why the hell was someone else doing that?! Was this a common thing? Did Captain Kassandra toss Catra all the time?

Adora was about three seconds away from going full-on beast mode on the Captain. The only thing that stopped her was the way Catra pulled her cap off in celebration, waving it excitedly in Adora’s direction. The elation on Catra’s face—the pure joy that was clear from whatever game-winning hit she’d made—was entirely enough to cool Adora’s temper.

Catra looked radiant out there. And she deserved to be praised like that. She deserved to be celebrated and loved by her friends. Adora wanted that for Catra so badly, and if it wasn’t for the ugly jealous monster that was living rent free inside of her for whatever reason, Adora was sure she’d 100% be just as happy as Catra was in that moment.

So, with her mind made up, Adora grinned and waved back. She cupped her hands around her mouth and cheered loudly. She made a heart with her hands and held it up above her head for Catra to see. Catra must’ve seen it because she blushed a little darker and bit her lip in a way that made Adora’s blood burn in a very different way.

If only Adora wouldn’t have to go home alone after the game.

— . —

Adora decided to wait up for Catra. She wanted to show Catra exactly how proud of her game-winning home-run she was. Adora lit candles around their room while she waited, and even changed into some of the more frilly underwear she owned for nights exactly like this. She kept Catra’s jersey on, though, and made herself comfortable in bed to wait.

And wait.

Adora waited long after the sun went down behind the back hills, long after the candles burned down to nubs, and long after the lacey bra she wore became too uncomfortable to continue wearing. Adora didn’t want to admit defeat, but eventually the mood was lost, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

It was with a new level of bitterness, and a little heartbreak, that Adora cleaned up the candles, slipped into pyjamas, and put Catra’s jersey away. This time when Adora curled up into bed, she didn’t wait. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

If the smell of candle smoke was still in the air when Catra got back, then so what.

— . —

Adora felt very off for the rest of that week. She hadn’t even heard Catra come in that night, and when she woke up, Catra was curled up into a ball on her own side of the bed. Something about not even waking up in Catra’s arms left a sour taste in her mouth.

Adora knew, logically, that Catra hadn’t made her any promises to come back early that night. She had said that she’d be out with the team, and Adora had agreed to that. It was just that...after a game like that, the first one Adora had gone to, shouldn’t Catra have wanted to come home and celebrate with Adora? Shouldn’t she have at least come back at a decent hour? Catra had only said that she’d be getting dinner with her team. Did getting burgers really take that long?

What else had Catra been doing out there?

That thought alone was enough to leave Adora in a horrible mood for the rest of the week.

She destroyed many straw filled dummies, and snapped at anyone who so much as thought about asking her what was wrong, including Catra.

Especially Catra.

Adora hadn’t been in this bad of a mood since the war--since the time she hadn’t slept for weeks at a time.

And the worst part? Adora knew she was being unreasonable. She knew she was being dramatic and was definitely blowing things out of proportion. It was just that—

The jealous little monster that lived in her mind rent free was slowly taking over.

— . —

Adora was lounging in the bath, trying to make herself feel better though aggressive self-care, when she heard Catra come in. It was already late into the evening. Adora would usually be in bed this time of night, and Adora was beginning to think (unreasonably) that Catra was coming back late on purpose.

“Adora?” Catra called as she noticed the bed was empty. She sounded a little afraid and suddenly Adora was just tired. And sad. And frustrated. She was so, so frustrated with herself and this stupid situation. She didn’t want to be upset at Catra anymore.

“In here!” Adore called back as she moved her hands a little anxiously through the bubbles still floating on the surface.

Catra appeared in the doorway and smiled tentatively. She looked concerned and tired.

“Hey,” Adora said softly.

“Hey,” Catra repeated, her voice just as soft.

“How was your night?” Adora asked. “I missed you at dinner.”

Catra’s shoulders dropped a little and she nodded. She stepped into the bathroom and sat down on the floor right next to the tub, her knees pulled up to her chest as she looked at Adora. Catra looked small like that. Small and afraid.

“Missed you too,” Catra said back, her voice just above a whisper.

Adora bit her lip a little anxiously and had to look away. She couldn’t look at Catra knowing she was the one who made her feel uncertain like this. But...wasn’t it because Adora herself felt uncertain that this whole thing had happened?

Adora pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to look back at Catra. “I’m sorry I’ve been...rough this week,” she said.

Catra leaned her head onto the side of the tub. “Are you gonna tell me what I did?” Catra asked, her voice soft and non-judgemental.

“Catra you didn’t...do anything,” Adora said. “And...well. That’s the problem. I feel like we never see each other anymore. I feel like we don’t talk.”

Catra straightened up, her shoulders coming up in a defensive stance. It was clear she was afraid of what else was coming from this conversation. Adora reached out and placed her hand on top of one of Catra’s knee.

“I just really miss you Catra. All the time, even when I wake up next to you,” Adora admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Catra said immediately, her ears pressing back flat onto her head. “I…”

“Hey, no, I should have said something—” Adora said but Catra cut her off, her eyes wide in realization.

“Oh my gods,” Catra breathed. “You did say something. You wanted—and I totally just brushed you off to hang out with the Guard. Adora—” Catra spoke frantically, and it was Adora who cut her off this time.

“Catra, hey, no,” Adora said as she moved closer. “No, you didn’t brush me off. You just. You’ve never had a really solid group of friends before. Of course you got caught up. I like that you have these people who like you and want to hang out with you. I’ve been so busy lately and I’ve been so thankful that you’ve found these people to keep you company when I can’t,” Adora said honestly.

“It’s just that...I’m not used to having to share your attention. And it’s...it’s making me feel a little insecure—which I hate. I don’t want to be jealous of your friends. I don’t want to keep you away from them,” she admitted, looking at her hands now, ashamed of how she was feeling.

Catra reached out and threaded their fingers. “Adora…” she breathed softly as she squeezed Adora’s hand. “You should have said something, dummy,” she said affectionately, reaching out with her free hand to smooth Adora’s hair back and turn her face up.

“I’ve only been spending so much time with those idiots because I’ve been wanting to give you space to relax,” Catra admitted. “I thought that having me around, wanting your attention after you’d had to listen to people bitch and complain all day would just cause you more stress.” She leaned forward some more to press a kiss to Adora’s lips softly. “I’ve been missing you too, Adora.”

Adora let out a sigh of relief, and then a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. She shot forward and wrapped her arms around Catra in a hug, holding her tight. “You’re sure you’re not unhappy with me? You wouldn’t rather be with C.K.?” Adora asked, finally voicing her deepest concerns.

“What?” Catra asked softly as she held Adora tighter, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that she was getting soaked by the bath. “Adora, Captain Kass is married. To a man. And besides that, I don’t want anyone but you. You make me happier than anything.”

Adora let out another sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she breathed as she pressed her face into Catra’s neck.

— . —

That little jealous monster was finally evicted.

#catradora #catra shera #she ra adora #shera #spop #karleecatradorafics #tumblr prompt #sequel #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #jealous!adora #talking out your feelings #like an adult

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years ago

Text

Monster - Part 2

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Commander Wolffe, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Commander Stone, Corrie Medic Triage (OC).

Summary: Fox deals with the aftermath of his actions, unsure as to whether his brothers can forgive him.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.5k

Part 1 here

Author’s Notes: I've been agonising over this chapter for far longer than necessary so please take it from me. Hopefully it's not complete gibberish. Feedback is appreciated as always, it's my first time writing such prominent clones all as proper characters in a fic so would be great to know what went well and where I can improve! This fic ends with this chapter but the ending leaves it open for imagination, if anyone has any cool thoughts for what may happen my inbox is always open to discuss further! Fic is below the cut, enjoy 😊.

When Fox next came around he was on the cheap sofa in his office. The rigid object making his back stiff, he must’ve been out for a while. He groaned as he attempted to sit up. He felt weak, his entire body sore and sensitive as he shuffled about.

“Welcome back, sunshine.” Stone greeted him while Triage appeared and started poking at him. Stone must’ve relieved Thorn from Fox babysitting duty. The thought made the Commander groan.

“How you feeling, boss?” The medic questioned as he started shining a small light into his eyes.

“Shit” he replied truthfully. “What happened?”

“You had a breakdown, a bad one.” The matter-of-fact bedside manner of the Guard’s chief medical officer was something Fox usually favoured, except when he was on the receiving end of it of course.

“Oh”

“It’s lucky Thorn found you when he did.” Triage chided while tapping away at his Datapad. His clean-shaven face focused as he went about the task. “You’ve got a visitor by the way”

“Hey vod” the gruff voice was followed by an even gruffer Commander strolling into view. What was Wolffe doing here?

“Thorn called.” Hm apparently he’d asked his question aloud.

Fox hadn’t seen Wolffe in months, he was always away on missions and rarely got down time when his Jedi had to return to Coruscant. His scar still stood out prominently against his tanned skin, but it looked better each time he saw him again, like it was slowly settling in to being a part of him. His armour was tattered, the grey paint scratched and chipped while the white plastoid was covered in the dirt of battle.

“Well I’m fi-“

“Don’t try it mir’sheb. I know what happened.” Fox flinched. Wolffe’s tone was flat when he spoke, his face unreadable and despite being one of the eldest of their batch, Fox felt very vulnerable under his little brother’s gaze.

As cadets and during command training, their batch had always been close, but Fox could confidently call Wolffe his best friend out of the lot. Their competitive nature pushed them to always be the best, their dry humour so cutting that only the other could truly understand it for what it was. Both of them were blunt, but over the years, the war had moulded them slightly differently. Where Fox was hardened and distant from his time on Coruscant, surprisingly, some of Wolffe’s ragged edges to his personality had softened. Not really noticeable if you didn’t know him from before, but Fox chalked it up to the friendship and mentoring of his wise Jedi and also his position as a Commander. Wolffe had lost his entire battalion early on in the war and Fox had held his heartbroken vodas he swore he would never let anything come between him and his men ever again. From that point on, Wolffe had gotten to know each member of his squad personally, always ensuring that they knew that despite his hard exterior, he’d always be there for them if they needed it.

Despite all this and how well Fox knew his brother, all that knowledge was doing nothing for him in his current situation. Wolffe knew that he’d killed another clone, yet he hadn’t lashed out yet. Was he just waiting until they were alone? The tension in the air threatening to smother them with each second that passed. Fox wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” Triage announced before dragging a worried looking Stone out behind him.

Fox didn’t say anything, he just waited for the onslaught from his younger brother. He was sporting his signature frown which could mean a hundred different things.

“Before we even get into this, I just need you to know that we don’t hate you, Fox. We’ll always love you, you di’kut.” Wolffe’s voice finally carried some emotion now that they were alone. It held a mixture of things, brotherly frustration at Fox’s self-loathing, a fear for finding out things he might not want the answer to and the smallest twinge of betrayal for what Fox had done. But among the rest of it, among the words said, there was love. Fox huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Beats me as to why”

“We’re family. We don’t need a reason. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

Silence lingered between them as Fox finally found the courage to speak about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t mean to.” His voice was faint, almost like if he said it any louder it’d all be real.

“I know ori’vod”

Fox finally launched into an explanation of what happened. His chest constricting further and further, threatening to rob his body of air as he pushed himself to get the story out. His hands shook in fear of what his closest brother would think of him, of what he’d done. Wolffe hadn’t spoken during the entire story, resigned to just watching him from his perch on his desk. Fox was panicking.

After what felt like the longest silence of Fox’s life, the younger Commander exhaled roughly, his bare hands rubbing at his scar out of habit as he processed the information. “You told Rex this?” Fox was shocked that out of everything to ask, that that was his question. The Guard Commander shook his head.

“Well, we better get him over here” Fox jumped out of his seat and placed a hand over his brother’s comm link.

“Kriff Wolffe, the poor guy has suffered enough. Last thing he needs is me begging for forgiveness for something he can’t forgive. I killed one of our own, one of his last few best friends. He hates me. And I really don’t blame him.”

“Maybe so, but he deserves to hear the truth from you. Whether or not he believes it is up to him.” Reluctantly, he let his arm go and stalked back over to the sofa. “I’ll comm Cody, he’s over there with him now.”

“Didn’t realise you were both planet side.” Fox grunted out, he could really do with some caff, his body was exhausted.

“The 104th were on their way back since Plo had some Jedi stuff to do, we touched down this afternoon. As for the 212th, they finished their last mission and once they heard about everything that’d been going on, General Kenobi requested they come back to help out. Though I have a feeling that was Cody wanting to check in on Rex.”

Fox wanted to ask how Rex was, but the searing guilt that burned in his chest couldn’t bear to ask the question. So he decided to check on some people who potentially hated him a smidge less, only a smidge though.

“Have you heard from the others?”

Wolffe nodded and went on to tell him about what the rest of their batch had been up to. Gree had recently been assigned to General Yoda, who he was absolutely terrified of. Fox didn’t blame him, the Jedi was extremely powerful for someone so pint sized, he’d also heard that he had a wicked sense of humour which would definitely stress Gree out, much to the amusement to the rest of his batch. Ponds was getting on nicely with Mace, they’d recently had a successful campaign near the outer rim and were due back on Coruscant soon. The eldest of their batch, Bly, was doing well too. Apparently Wolffe thought he had the hots for his General as Bly apparently refused to shut up about how amazing and strong and caring she was. Fox wasn’t sure if he was messing with him or not, but the thought brought a small smile to his face nonetheless. Trust Bly to fall in love with his Jedi General.

“What about you? How’s life in the Corrie Guard?” Wolffe asked.

Where could he even begin. Fox never offloaded about his problems onto anyone, except maybe his fellow Commanders in the Guard who he shared the burden with. Wolffe wouldn’t understand. A part of him also wanted to be the dutiful big brother and not place any worries or fears onto his vod’ika.

“Not much to report, same as always” he wasn’t lying at least. It was easier this way, for them not to know. They could keep thinking he was safe away from the battlefield. Their hopes in this war were already pretty low, they didn’t need to know about the horrors that lurked away, hidden among the senate corridors and the low levels of Coruscant.

——————————

Anxiety gripped at Fox’s chest as he paced a hole into his metal office floor. Waiting for Cody and Rex made him feel as if he was waiting for a death sentence. He thought of all the ways he could potentially escape but he knew Wolffe would be all over him. The 104th Commander always was a fan of tough love and things didn’t get tougher than this.

There was a slight commotion outside which pulled the both of them to attention.

Rex came storming in, his face set like stone, an angry frown marring his features and deepening the creases in his forehead. Once he set his sights on Fox nothing could deter him. “Rex, wait!” Wolffe shouted but he couldn’t stop him in time. Rex’s fist slammed into Fox’s nose with a sickening crack, sending the Commander sprawling backwards, catching himself on his desk as his nose started gushing blood.

Cody ran in from nowhere and locked Rex’s arms behind his back, trying to calm their little brother. “Rex, will you just listen to him.” He shouted down his ear while Fox recovered from the blow, cradling his now broken nose as Wolffe came to his side to help him back up.

“Why? Why should I listen? He didn’t listen to Fives!” Rex screamed back as he writhed in Cody’s arms. His words cut into Fox, making him grimace.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Rex.” Fox apologised with a burning sincerity, but it only deepened the frown on Rex’s face.

“I don’t want your apologies.” The Captain shouted back, gone was his usual professional composure. Right now he was a broken man who’d lost one of the last few people he’d let get close to him. There was no rank in this room right now, they were just a group of hurting vod, trying to pick up the pieces.

Rex spat his words out at Fox with a look that could kill, he probably wanted it to. He looked like he wanted Fox to hurt as much as he was right now. “Maker, I know Palpatine had you wrapped around his finger, I just didn’t realise how much.” Ouch.

“Rex” Cody reprimanded, his Marshall Commander voice coming out as he tried to defuse the situation. The Captain’s face was still masked in hurt and anger, but he did back down slightly after his verbal blow. “The past couple days has been hard for you vod, we know that and we’re here for you. But we wouldn’t be asking you to listen to Fox right now if we didn’t think it was worth it. Please, just give him a chance.” Once he finished, he nodded at Fox to signal him to get started. He took a deep breath and readied himself to try and explain the unexplainable.

“I know it sounds ridiculous but what happened back there, It wasn’t me” he started, and Rex just scoffed, still struggling against Cody’s hold. “Look, I can’t explain it. But I set that gun to stun, I swear to you, Rex. I know you all think I’m some cold, order-following droid but I would’ve brought him… I would’ve brought Fives, in for questioning. You- you have to believe me.” Fox pleaded, blood still trickling down his face from his broken nose. He wasn’t their usual, sarcastic, caffeine deprived big brother. No, Fox was a complete mess as he tried to reason with Rex. He couldn’t bare his brothers thinking that he did this willingly, that he’d turn on his own kind with just a simple order.

“What do you mean it wasn’t you?” Rex’s gaze was still unsure, but he’d never seen Fox like this before. He looked desperate, much like Fives had.

“I- I blacked out. One minute we were moving in and as soon as I saw Fives, and I know this sounds crazy, it’s like something else took over. I was just watching from the sidelines.” Fox gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to explain himself.

“Like something was controlling you?” Rex asked, the cogs in his brain turning as he waited for a reply. Fox just gave an ashamed nod and dreaded realisation dawned on Rex’s face.

“Maybe Fives wasn’t crazy” he said it as barely a whisper but with the silence in the room they all managed to hear it.

“What do you mean?” Cody questioned as he finally let his vod’ika go, content that he wasn’t going to assault the Guard Commander further. Rex used the freedom to go and lock the door to Fox’s office.

“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room, understand? No one can know, not our vode, not your Jedi, nobody.” The three of them nodded.

“Before he died, Fives was trying to explain what was going on to General Skywalker and me, he said that there’s something in our heads that could make us do whatever someone wanted… Even kill the Jedi.” Wolffe and Cody’s eyes widened at the thought, finding it impossible to even comprehend hurting their Generals who they cared for deeply.

“And if, if, he’s right about that, well, he said the Chancellor is in on the whole thing. That he set him up. And as insane as it sounds, that could explain why he sent Fox, of all people, to hunt him down.” Rex finally spared him a glance that wasn’t filled with complete hate, there was a slight bit of pity in for good measure instead.

“You’re saying that the Chancellor has some sort of control over me?” Fox replied. The colour draining from his face as he considered the option.

“I’m saying… it’s a possibility. After seeing what happened with Tup, what you’re saying happened to you doesn’t seem far off. He had no idea why he killed General Tiplar. Said he didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Okay hold on, so you’re trying to tell us that Fives uncovered a plot by the Chancellor which involves all of the clones having something in their heads which allows them to be controlled, with the likely purpose of it being to kill the Jedi?” Wolffe asked with the hopes that he might wake up from this weird dream he found himself in.

“Pretty much” Rex replied.

“Ozik” Cody cursed. “And you believe him? Fives? You sure he didn’t just lose it?” The Marshal Commander needed this final confirmation from his brother.

“I-” Rex exhaled and dragged a gloved hand down his face “I think I do. I wasn’t sure before but with what Fox is saying, it’s all a bit too much of a coincidence. I believe him enough to at least look into what he was talking about. He wouldn’t have risked everything he did for nothing.”

Fox tried to keep breathing as the conversation went on. Controlled. A plot to kill the Jedi. Maker this was too much. Surely they had to be wrong. But then he remembered his shit show of a life, the things that the chancellor made him do, things he’d never do willingly if he had the choice like a true sentient being. Maybe it wasn’t such a faraway reality. He repressed the shiver that threatened his body.

“You do realise we’ll get executed on the spot if we’re found looking into this. This is treason. If what you’re saying is true, then it sounds like they went to some pretty serious lengths to keep Fives from outing them.” Wolffe added, ever the pessimist. Not that Fox blamed him, they were moving into dangerous territory with this talk.

“You three can walk away, but I owe this to Fives and Tup.” Rex said, conviction written all over his face.

“I’m in” Fox announced as he wiped most of the blood away from his nose and mouth. The ache from his broken nose setting in as the adrenaline from his and Rex’s confrontation started wearing off.

Wolffe and Cody shared a glance, a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. They both shared strong bonds with their Jedi in different ways, they wanted to do everything in their power to protect them, but could they keep this a secret for long enough? Obi-Wan and Plo were very in touch with their Commander’s emotions. There was a chance they’ll figure out something was up sooner than they’d like. They would just have to work fast. Cody nodded at Wolffe, and the decision was made.

“We’re in too” Wolffe confirmed. “I don’t want any more of our brothers to die if we can help it.”

“What about Skywalker? He was with you and Fives, do we at least have him on side?” Cody asked and Rex pulled a disappointed face.

“As soon as Fives mentioned the Chancellor being involved, Anakin wrote the whole thing off… It’s just us.”

“We can work with that” Cody comforted with a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and a small smile. The Commander’s comm link started chirping and he gave them all a sorry look. “It’s the General, I better take this and head back. But we’ll catch up later.”

“79’s?” Wolffe offered. Despite none of them fancying a night out, there was no better place to get privacy than a noisy bar filled with identical faces. Cody nodded and quickly departed.

Eventually they had to call Triage back to deal with Fox’s nose. He’d done well to hide the pain during the chat between the four of them, but it had quickly started to take over his thoughts. Thankfully his CMO came armed with pain stims and for once, Fox didn’t get absolutely ripped into by the medic as this injury wasn’t a result of his own stupidity. Well, to be fair, he was sure that assessment was up for debate, especially from Rex who was talking quietly with Wolffe around Fox’s desk.

Fox poked at the metal brace and bandages on his nose, the Bacta patch under it was a squishy texture. Triage knocked his hand away like a parent would a child who was reaching for the last cookie. “Don’t touch it” he warned, and Fox moved his hands back down to his side. “Given our accelerated cell regen and the Bacta patch, you should be good to wear your helmet again by tomorrow” Fox gave his thanks to the medic by clasping his wrist in a handshake before he was left alone with his vode again.

Wolffe conveniently dipped out to use the fresher, leaving Rex and Fox alone for the first time since the incident. Fox’s heart rate sped up as he thought about it, the scenes of Fives’ death playing over and over again in his head like a horror film on repeat. That look on Rex’s face when their eyes met over Fives’ body, seared into his brain as a constant reminder of what he did.

They stared at each other from across the room, Fox was still sat on his cheap, rock solid couch while Rex was stood by his desk.

Fox couldn’t hold the eye contact; he broke it off and shifted his gaze to his hands.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. It’s not what I’m asking for, you're well within your rights to hate me. But I just want you to know that I wouldn’t hurt you like this willingly. It’s the last thing I’d ever want.” Fox broke the silence. Still not brave enough to meet Rex’s eyes, to see the disappointment and betrayal which would likely be waiting for him.

He heard some shuffling and the couch sink down slightly beside him. He dared a look over and saw Rex’s scratched leg armour.

“I don’t hate you, Fox. I know you were put in a tough situation. I know I like to think I would’ve handled it differently, but truth be told, I don’t know what could’ve happened if Fives didn't put us in that ray shield. And while I don’t want to think about it, I have a feeling someone would’ve got to him eventually. It was inevitable.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “I just… I just need a bit of time.”

“I appreciate that, take all the time you need.” They both shared a small smile, content that they’d get past this together. There was light on the other side of this dark tunnel.

Rex really did care about Fox; he’d always looked up to him over the years. He remembers the small stuff, the words of encouragement when a training simulator went wrong, the proud look on his face when he got promoted to Captain, the many nights of drinking Thire’s rocket-fuel moonshine in Fox’s office when Rex needed to escape from the war for a few hours.

They’d be fine, time was always the best healer. Fox just hoped that they had enough time left.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

#star wars #clone wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #commander fox #commander wolffe #captain rex #commander cody #commander stone #clone oc #clone wars season 6

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ghost-in-the-stalls · 4 years ago

Note

you’re absolutely on point with your neil and captain meta!! i even think he goes on to captain his state team somewhere in the future. i was wondering though - how do you think the monsters react to him being captain? seeing as they’ve known him since his rookie freshmen year.

Thanks!! I like the idea that he eventually becomes a co-captain of his pro team, mainly just because I know he works great as a leader for the foxes, but I think he'd need an extra buffer to properly lead people who aren't uber traumatized lmao

And as for the monsters, I think their reactions would vary drastically between them.

Like Andrew I can see being pretty indifferent to it. He can probably tell that its a good fit for Neil, but I can also see him resenting it during times where it stresses Neil out. I read a fic once (I believe it was one from the Say Something series by Willow_bird on ao3 - awesome series yall should check it out!!) where a solo weekend at Columbia with just Andreil got interrupted by a team crisis phone call that then really threw Neil off mentally and emotionally. Situations like that are times I can see Andrew resenting Neils responsibility and the pressure it puts him under. And I can see him also resenting any of Neils time it takes away from him. Because he's petty lbr. Overall though Andrew would just be indifferently supportive because he knows Neil better than anyone and knows his captaincy makes sense.

Kevin I can imagine initially being indifferent, but possibly getting frustrated with Neil more often? Like I can imagine them clashing heads even more on and off court about exy stuff now that there's a change in the power dynamic. Kevin now has to answer to Neil to a degree. If he's ever throwing off the team by being too harsh at the wrong time or something, I can imagine Neil having to shut him down. And that wouldn't be pretty. Ive also seen plenty of fics where Kevin gets on his case more now that he's captain, and I think that's the general direction he would head in. Like they'd bash heads more often and it would be tense at first. But I think the equilibrium theyd return to would be something like that. Where Kevin just uses it as a way to push Neil even harder, but also demonstrates more respect to Neil as a result. He wouldn't want to undermine the captain. That would fuck up a team more than anything and we know Kevin is all about the grind.

Nicky would probably just be super proud and excited tbh but with his inappropriately timed humor and habit of crossing boundaries, I can also see it being more of an adjustment than he'd realize. Like, especially in the beginning when Neil is still working on gaining the teams (the underclassmens) respect as their captain, i can imagine Nicky accidentally slowing that process by... being Nicky. He loves his family dearly but he isnt great at making them feel respected. So I can see that being a minor issue, but one that he self corrects quickly because he only wants Neil to succeed here.

Aaron wouldn't care except he would because he hates Neil and he hates that he has to answer to him now. I personally like to believe they grow to despise each other less and Aaron and Andrew repair their relationship, but that doesn't mean he likes Neil or understands why people gravitate to him like they do. Neil being captain wouldn't be surprising, but would be annoying to him lol

Thanks so much for the ask!! Sorry if this got long I just have a lot of thoughts lol

#aftg #neil josten #captain!neil #andrew minyard #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #tfc #aftg meta

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terapsina · 5 years ago

Text

the ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna)

My first actual Harry/Luna fic for @lunaaaalovegreat who wanted me to write something for them. Here goes nothing.

summary:

“You can go when we say you can go, Loony,” the biggest of the bullies says and pulls up her wand higher, now pointing it directly in the girl’s face. Harry doesn’t know the bully’s name but thinks she might be a third year.

A third year who looks about ready to cast a spell at an unarmed first year in a fight that’s three to one. He thinks he’s seen quite enough.

“Hey,” Harry yells to startle them and pulls out his own wand, “leave her alone!”

/or/

By chance of fate Harry Potter meets Luna Lovegood in his second year instead of his fifth. It doesn’t really change anything for the magical world at large but it changes quite a lot for the young witch and wizard themselves. Here are six glimpses into their relationship from the moment they meet until the end of the war.

--- ao3 ---

--- i. - Year 2, January ---

The wizarding world is vast and magical and filled with wonder. And at the end of the day, most of its fate comes down to chance. In this way, it is not at all unlike the muggle world.

Four little boys share a compartment on a train and spend the next seven years becoming the terrors of Hogwarts. Two decades later a mountain troll wanders into a girls’ bathroom instead of some abandoned classroom and so forges a lifetime long friendship between three first years.

And a year after that a twelve-year-old Harry Potter doesn’t feel like going back to the Gryffindor common room to be gawked at by the few people in even his own House who think he opened the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, he goes wandering around the castle, the soles of his feet skidding against the stone floor of the hallway and mind filled to the brim with flashes of resentment.

There’s tittering laughter of more than one person coming from around the corner from Harry and he stops in his tracks as soon as he hears it. There’s something a bit cruel about that sound, something colder than amusement. Something familiar.

Slowly he leans forward to get a glimpse of whatever is waiting for him, what meets him is the sight of a blonde first year with a blue tie, she’s being cornered against the wall of the hallway by what looks to be three of her own housemates. There are wands in their hands and mean looks on their faces.

Harry’s jaw clenches in reaction but for a moment he doesn’t yet know how to proceed.

And then the girl speaks in a voice so serene he almost thinks he’s misread the situation. “We’re gonna be late for Charms.”

He wavers in place, considering if he should just turn around and leave before they notice his presence. But no, he knows what those jeers mean and he knows what bullies look like.

“You can go when we say you can go, Loony.” The biggest of the bullies says and pulls up her wand higher, now pointing it directly in the girl’s face. Harry doesn’t know the bully’s name but thinks she might be a third-year.

A third-year who looks about ready to cast a spell at an unarmed first year in a fight that’s three to one. He thinks he’s seen quite enough.

“Hey,” Harry yells to startle them and pulls out his own wand, “leave her alone!”

“Mind your own-” The girl who had been about to cast starts saying and then almost jumps out of her skin alongside the other two bullies when they turn to see him, looks like the Ravenclaws believe he’s the Heir of Slytherin too. Great.

“I said,” he glares at them “leave her alone.”

For a moment they blink in mute shock, then they scatter like frightened rabbits with a fox on their tails, and despite how that was exactly what he wanted them to do something twists in his stomach. He hates that they’re afraid of him now like he’s actually responsible for releasing the monster that is petrifying other students.

He avoids looking at the girl left behind, almost afraid that the young witch he just tried to help will look just as frightened. But when he looks at her she’s just staring at him with a calm look, head tilted a bit sideways and blinking slowly.

“Hi. I’m Harry.” Harry says, suddenly a bit uncomfortable under that wide-eyed stare, so without knowing what else to say he stares back.

She has messy pale blonde hair falling across her shoulders and down her back, it doesn’t seem to have been combed today, - or possibly the day before that as well. There’s a necklace of tiny pine cones in a strange rainbow of colors hanging around her neck. And she’s staring at him through wide-open eyes, it would almost make her look surprised but the look in them is as serene and measured as it had been when she’d been facing the bullies a minute before. Finally, he notices her holding a stack of books to her chest, each of them seems to have some kind of flower stuck between the pages and hanging over the bindings.

Harry’s not entirely sure what kind of an impression the picture she makes leaves on him but there’s something very loud and strange and interesting about it.

“I know.” She finally says after that extended pause and what were they... oh right, he’d introduced himself. “Everyone has been talking about you, they think you’re the Heir of Salazar Slytherin.”

“Oh.” He mutters, his mood souring again.

“But of course I know that you’re not.” She tells him absently like she hasn’t noticed his reaction at all, or like she has but knows not to focus on it. Harry can’t quite pin her down.

“You do?”

“Yes, it’s quite obvious, Salazar Slytherin was an elf and you’re not an elf, so you can’t possibly be his heir.” The girl says. “And I’m Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood.”

Harry stares at her, eyebrows furrowing. She might be the oddest person he’s met yet - well she would be if he didn’t know the headmaster, - but he’s still inexplicably relieved by her words. It’s nice to know someone outside of Gryffindor believes him too.

Even if that someone is making his head spin a little in confusion.

“What did they want with you anyway? The other girls.”

“Oh, they’re just infested with Wrackspurts,” Luna tells him.

“Wrackspurts?”

“They’re magical creatures that float through the air and get into your head through your ears. They make one quite confused.”

Harry’s not sure if he believes that, he thinks he’s right and they’re just bullies. But then again he doesn’t really know all that much about the magical creatures that are or are not real, so he doesn't think it would be right to dismiss them as fantasy either. After all, he hadn’t known about House Elves before he met Dobby either.

“You said you were late for class?” He says once he realizes he doesn’t know how else to respond.

“Yes but there’s a shortcut through there,” she says and points to a spot that looks like any other spot on the far left wall “I have a few minutes to spare.”

She is however starting to look a bit antsy, arms squeezing the books closer to her chest, so he guesses she really is going to be late and is just being polite now.

“I could come with you, make sure you don’t run into any more girls with... confused heads.” He offers.

“That’s very nice of you, Harry,” Luna says, smiles at him, and starts walking toward that wall, he belatedly notices that she’s also only wearing one shoe on her feet.

“What happened with your shoe?” he asks, a suspicion already very present in his head.

“Oh, the Wrackspurts hid it. It’s okay though, I’ll find it eventually, I always do.”

The Wrackspurts need a lesson in manners and Harry wonders if he can get Fred and George to help him give it.

Luna stops by the wall and before he has time to wonder if there really is a shortcut there Luna has leaned forward, hummed a quick tune he can’t quite identify and the wall is quickly transforming into a doorway.

He follows Luna all the way to Flitwick’s classroom as they chat about things Harry only halfway believes exist. But later after they’ve parted ways and he’s back in the Gryffindor tower being slaughtered in chess by Ron, he realizes it was the first time since he found Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail on that wall that he forgot about being Hogwarts’ pariah.

It was kinda nice, making a new friend. He wonders if tomorrow during breakfast he might find her for a quick chat in the Great Hall.

--- ii. - Year 3, November ---

It’s the evening after Harry finally fully managed to escape the Hospital Wing, and it’s been almost a week since the Quidditch game that ended up introducing his broom to the Whomping Willow but Harry still can’t stop mournfully staring at the broken remains of his Nimbus 2000.

It seems so stupid to feel like crying because of a broom but it was the first brand new thing that really belonged to him that he loved. It was his in a way that nothing else has ever been before. And now because of some Dementors, it’s nothing but kindling for the fire.

Not that he could ever bring himself to burn it - not that he’s allowed to anyway, the broom is interwoven with so many charms that setting it on fire would probably make it explode or something. He wishes he was just allowed to keep it at the bottom of his school trunk but apparently it counts as a safety hazard and the school needs to dispose of it safely.

So here he sits on the seating around the Quidditch pitch, the splinters on top of the blanket in front of him, with Ron and Hermione on his right and Luna on his left, waiting until he can bring himself to turn them in to Madam Hooch so she can do whatever it is they do with old and broken brooms.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione tells him and reaches past Ron to pat him on his shoulder.

He nods at her in thanks but can’t quite hide the pained grimace that follows it.

“Yeah Buddy, I’m really sorry.” Ron echoes her and gently bumps his side with his elbow.

“It’s okay,” Harry says past the Bezoar stuck in his throat and squares his shoulders to begin getting up, it’s just a broom, he should stop acting like it’s the end of the world.

“Hey, Harry?” Luna finally interrupts him for the first time since they sat down almost fifteen minutes ago, she’d been sitting quietly beside him the entire time, her elbows occasionally touching his own as one of them moved. He was just leaning forward to start wrapping the splinters back into the folds of the blanket but at her voice, he stops to look at her.

She’s got a thoughtful twist to her head like she’s considering an idea she’s been musing over.

“Yeah?”

“Can I take that piece of the handle?” She asks pointing at one of the larger remaining pieces of his Quidditch broom.

“Why?” He asks and is echoed by the voices of his two best friends asking the same question, each of them with a slightly different inflection. Ron sounds gobsmacked. Hermione, exasperated. And Harry just curious.

Luna doesn’t answer any of them, just keeps staring at him in that assuring and very calming way she has.

“Sure?” He finally tells her and passes her the splinter she had pointed to.

Luna takes it from his hand with a smile and jumps forward for a quick hug before skipping away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stay in place, watching her leave back towards the castle.

“That girl is so strange,” Ron tells him, a flabbergasted look on his face.

“I know,” Harry says with a grin. That’s why he likes her.

“Ready, Harry?” Hermione asks after letting out a long sigh, Harry knows she doesn’t really know how to react to Luna, they’ve been friends with her for a year now and he knows that Hermione doesn’t dislike Luna, that for the most part, they get along okay, but that sometimes she kinda drives Hermione a little crazy.

And Harry’s never going to say it, he’s not stupid, but he sometimes thinks it’s good for Hermione to be left wrong-footed as her logic crashes against Luna’s irregularity. It pulls her out of her head when she gets so stuck in obsessing over her schoolwork that even Ron and Harry can’t quite manage to make her come up for air.

“As I’ll ever be.” He says, putting away his musings and finding himself suddenly better prepared for what he needs to do as the three of them finally head off towards the broom shed.

---

It’s about two weeks later that Luna finds Harry in the library and drops in front of him a little red parcel decorated with doodles of lions and snitches he’s pretty sure Luna did herself.

“What’s that?” He asks, picking up his head from the books on the Patronus Charm he’s been going through on Professor Lupin’s suggestion.

“A holiday gift.”

“It’s not really Christmas yet?” He says but takes the package into his hands anyway.

“I know. But I finished making it and Daddy and I are going to be in the Norwegian Forests looking for Heliopaths this Christmas, and it seems rather cruel to make an owl fly that far with a package. So, happy early Christmas, Harry.” Luna says and sits down on the other side of the table from him.

He slowly unwraps the package, not wanting to tear up her little drawings, and feels something in his chest tightening and warming up unexpectedly as soon as he finds himself looking at a miniature carving of his Nimbus 2000. It’s even painted the same colors as his broken broom.

“Wait.” Harry flings up his head to look at Luna, realization dawning. “Is this why you wanted that piece of my broom?”

Luna nods seriously at him and looks directly back, face filled with honesty and voice as genuine as he’s ever heard it. “It’s really sad to need to throw away something you love. I thought you’d like to keep a part of it, even if it’s only a piece of woodcarving.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry tells her, eyes filling up with the sort of tears he’s almost not too embarrassed to shed.

--- iii. - Year 4, December ---

He leaves Cho in the Owlery, his face flushed with mortification and feeling like he’d like nothing better than for the earth to swallow him whole.

The pretty Quidditch player turning him down stings a bit, - alright, a lot - but that’s not really why he’s running away, he doesn't think. It’s just, well, he’d been trying to pick up enough courage to ask Cho to the Yule Ball for ages and now he doesn’t think he’ll be able to summon up any kind of will to ask anyone else. And as one of the Champions, he’s not allowed to go by himself, which honestly sounds like a lot more attractive option.

So once he’s back in the castle he titters in place, unable to decide where to go now. He could go find Ron so they can simmer in misery together but that won’t really save him from whatever Professor McGonagall will do to him if he doesn’t find a date for the first dance.

Which leaves him with a very narrow list of other options. Really it leaves him with only two.

And Hermione will definitely roll her eyes at him for waiting until the last minute instead of dealing with it months ago when the ball was first announced, so he decides his best bet is to head toward the Ravenclaw common room instead. He just hopes he’s fast enough not to accidentally run into Cho again.

“What can’t talk but will reply when spoken to?” The knocker asks once he’s walked all the way up the spiral staircase.

“Don’t know.” He says and ignoring the indignant squawk of the bronze eagle uses it to knock on the door.

After about half a minute the head of some upper-year Ravenclaw comes into Harry’s line of sight past the edge of the door, the boy rolls his eyes and vanishes just as quickly. Harry just sighs, used to it by now.

A minute or two later Luna comes out to meet him.

“Hey, Harry. What’s up?”

“I need your help, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, I was gonna go down to the lake to paint something in a bit anyway, we can go together if you want.” She offers.

The lake is all the way on the other side of the castle from the Owlery so he nods and waits as she goes back into the common room to grab her art supplies and a set of warmer robes. Once she’s back, her warm Ravenclaw scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and her fluffy Pygmy Puff earmuffs - a gift from Ginny for her last birthday - on her head, he follows her down the stairs.

Harry breathes a sigh of relief once they’re outside and haven’t run into either Cho or Cedric, - who he at the moment doesn’t quite feel like seeing either, even though he does like Cedric.

They cast a pair of warming charms and he drops to sit beside her on the ground, there are a few minutes of comfortable silence while he watches her setting up her workstation. Not that it can really be called that, Luna likes to put all her paints around her in what looks like the randomest of orders while the canvas rests on top of her crossed legs.

He’s never quite been able to understand how she doesn’t get uncomfortable within five minutes. But he’s seen her rest like that for hours at a time as she paints whatever comes to her mind so he’s stopped thinking all that much on it by now.

“So, what did you want to talk about, Harry?” Luna finally asks as she uses a spell from her wand to start mixing up three kinds of blues together with some pink.

He opens his mouth but no sound seems to want to come out so he decides to change the subject instead. “What did you want to paint, anyway?”

“A Crumple-Horned Snorkack.” She says and looks at him, waiting and clearly not at all fooled.

Harry’s fingers start twitching in his lap.

“I tried to ask Cho to the ball but she’s going with Cedric,” Harry says in what seems almost one breath. “And McGonagall will kill me if I don’t get a date because the Champions are supposed to open the dance.”

“Alright,” Luna answers but doesn’t turn back to her work, clearly aware that he hasn’t gotten to his point yet.

“Will you go with me to the Yule Ball, please?” He rushes out and then blinks, surprised, he was just going to ask her if she knew anyone who didn’t have a date yet but now that the words are out he realizes this is the perfect solution. Luna is his friend. Going with Luna will be fun and he won’t spend the whole evening with someone he barely knows. The only other girl he could say that about would be Hermione, and he’s not stupid, Ron might be an oblivious idiot about it right now but Harry knows that if he asked Hermione his best friend would kill him. “We can go as friends.”

“I don’t really have a dress robe.”

“Oh.” He says, disappointed.

“But I guess Daddy can send me one of Mom’s old ones, I think I have enough time to alter it to fit me if we hurry,” Luna says and looks at him, a measuring sort of look on her face like she’s considering how serious he’s being. Then she seems to nod to herself and smiles at him. “Alright Harry, I’ll go to the Yule Ball with you. As friends.”

And Harry smiles back at her, for the first time kind of excited about going.

--- iv. - Year 5 - April ---

Since the latest number of Educational Degrees, the number of detentions Umbridge has been assigning to students has grown. But until now he’s only noticed some of the upper years with bindings around one of their hands as evidence to the same kind of lessons she’s been failing to teach Harry all year.

But that remains the case only until Harry turns a corner on his way to the Room of Requirement one day to set up for the latest DA lesson and runs into Luna and a crying first-year Hufflepuff. The boy is clutching his hand to his chest while Luna’s kneeling on the ground in front of him and trying to calm him down.

“It hurts,” Harry hears the boy sniffle.

“Luna?” He says and then to make sure he understands the situation adds - “Did Umbridge-?”

“Yes,” Luna says in a voice that he’s not sure he’s ever heard from her, it’s sharp and cold and furious.

Harry gets the feeling.

He wavers in place for a moment uncertain of what to say or do to help the upset little Firstie calm down, or even if he should just go find someone better equipped for it, - like Hermione or a Professor, - but then decides to follow Luna’s lead and joins her on the floor in front of him.

“What’s your name?” Harry asks as gently as he can manage.

“Billy Wardyworth.” The boy whispers wetly.

“Can you show me your hand, Billy?” Harry asks, starting to rifle through his pockets for something that could help - he hasn’t left the Common Room without it since his own detentions started getting bad, - and grimaces once the boy does. The skin is swollen red, there’s no blood or visible words yet but he can tell just by looking that Billy hadn’t gotten away with just a few lines.

He pulls out the little bottle of Murtlap Essence that Hermione made for him and quickly unscrews the top. “Here, this should help.”

Luna seems to understand what he’s doing because she takes out her wand to cut away the edge of her sleeve with a spell and as soon as Harry’s done applying the soothing solution on Billy’s skin takes over to wrap it securely around the boy's hand.

“Better?” Luna asks once she’s done too.

Billy nods, still sniffling but starting to wipe the tears from his face with his unhurt hand.

“What happened? I haven’t seen Umbridge forcing that sick quill on anyone younger than a fifth year.” He asks Luna now that Billy is starting to look a bit better. Not that he thinks their High Inquisitor is doing it out of any kind of moral standpoint, his guess would be more along the lines of her being aware that it might be the thing that pushed the rest of the teachers over the edge into just killing her.

The feeling McGonagall has been projecting is certainly that the only reason she hasn’t already is because getting sent to Azkaban would leave her students entirely unprotected.

“You know she’s been reading all incoming and outgoing mail right?”

“Yeah?” he says, it’s why he hasn’t written Sirius anything in ages.

“Billy’s dads didn’t.”

“What did she read?” He asks, his stomach sinking with a bad feeling but Luna doesn’t say, just shakes her head angrily.

“Papa got bitten last year,” Billy says, eyes on the floor and pulling his knees closer to his chest. “Dad was just letting me know everything went okay during the full moon so I wouldn't worry. He’s been doing it every month.”

And Umbridge is the one who drafted that anti-werewolf legislation that Sirius told him about. Of course, she’s also the kind of person who would take out her hatred for the boy’s father’s very existence on an eleven-year-old.

Harry starts cursing but when Billy flinches Harry’s insides twist in guilt at realizing how the Firstie might have taken it.

“I’m glad your dad is okay,” Harry says, trying to fix it and once Billy looks back at him hopefully he for good measure adds -”Umbridge had no right to do that.”

“Thanks.” The boy says.

Harry and Luna share a look and slowly get to their feet.“Come on, Billy.” Luna says, extending her hand to help the boy get up too. “I’ll walk you to Professor Sprout, I’m sure she’ll figure out how to make certain Umbridge can’t give you any more detentions with her.”

Harry catches her hand when she starts to turn. “Want me to come along?”

“No, we’ll be alright,” Luna says, squeezing his hand and smiling a bit weakly at him. “You’ve got stuff to set up.”

“Okay. Stay after?” He says vaguely, not that he thinks Billy would tell someone about Dumbledore’s Army but they did all sign the scroll. And he’s not at all enthusiastic about finding out exactly what kind of spell-work Hermione did on that parchment.

“Alright,” Luna says and then leaves, the little boy tucked against her side.

--- v. - Year 6 - July ---

The funeral happens on a cloudy Monday morning. Harry’s head feels like it’s moving through sludge or maybe through something more sticky, like toffee made by Hagrid.

He barely notices the world around him, though somewhere at the back of his mind he’s aware that to his right Hermione is crying in Ron’s arms. That Luna’s head is tucked into the hollow of Harry’s neck and her hair is tickling his face with the breeze from the wind. That somewhere behind him Ginny is squeezed between Fred and George who showed up this morning in the company of the rest of the Order. That Neville is standing there too, pale-faced and strong-jawed with hands around himself and tears running over his cheeks.

Harry himself isn’t crying.

Harry’s mind is too full of what he needs to do now to cry. And whenever a flash of green lights up in his mind, whenever he sees Dumbledore pleading and then falling, whenever he sees Snape killing him, the grief in his chest gets burned up by rage.

But he knows he doesn’t have time for that either.

He needs to find the Horcruxes and destroy them and he doesn’t even know where to start. They’re at war now. He knows that technically they’ve been at war since the end of last year, or even since Cedric died in that cemetery in what now feels like lifetimes ago. But now that Dumbledore is dead it’s really, truly here in a way it hadn’t been before.

And the idea that it all now rests in his hands is crushing.

But he has no choice, he’s going to need to find a way to do it, to kill Voldemort. To save his friends. To save everyone.

He barely hears the service. Barely notices as it finally ends and everyone gets up and starts walking back for the castle or out towards Hogsmeade.

He does notice it as Luna pulls on his elbow to change the direction of their steps and head for the lake. Harry lets her guide him, exchanging a last tired look with Hermione and Ron when they stay on their path.

Minutes later they’re alone, watching the play of wind against the surface of the water when Luna speaks.

“You’re not coming back to Hogwarts next year.”

“No.” He says, not at all surprised that Luna knows that, she doesn’t know about the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that he has to destroy but she’s the most observant person he’s ever met, she’s probably read his plans in his face.

“Okay.” She says.

He looks at her and feels his heart starting to hurt as soon as he does. Through the past year he’s started to notice his feelings for Luna changing, Merlin they might have been changing even longer, maybe since before he asked her to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. He just knows he’s almost said something a hundred times by now only to chicken out at the last moment. Because he cares about Luna so much and he doesn’t quite know how to risk their friendship on what feels like the most terrifying gamble ever.

And now that he can’t because it wouldn't be fair, he wishes he’d taken at least one of the opportunities that had come before.

He wishes he knew what she would have said.

“But Harry?” Luna says, staring up into his eyes. Her own eyes, wide and full to the brim with a kaleidoscope of thoughts.

“Yeah?” He asks, a little breathless. Her eyes are so beautiful.

“After you’ve done what you have to. When it’s possible. Come back then,” she says and he knows she’s not talking about Hogwarts. He’s not sure exactly what lays behind her words, and it would hurt either way right now so he chooses not to linger there and just nods.

Then Luna smiles sadly at him, and leans in to place a quick kiss on his cheek that leaves a line of burn from the spot on his skin straight into his heart and then hugs him so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. His own arms clutch around her like he’s afraid to let go.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Luna whispers into his ear.

“Goodbye, Luna.”

--- vi. - Year 7 - May ---

“We did it,” Ron exclaims in dazed shock. Like it hasn’t really hit yet. Harry looks at him and then has to look away because there are tears in his eyes and behind the shock, there’s the avalanche of grief just waiting for Ron to slow down enough to be buried in.

Fred is dead.

So are Remus and Tonks.

They did it. They won, Voldemort is finally dead, his Death Eaters have been defeated and they’ve won the war. But the Great Hall is filled with dead kids and dead members of the Order and somehow the price feels too high. He knows the price was always going to be too high and yet now that he has space enough to let that truth crash into him he doesn’t know what to do with it.

So he doesn’t, instead, he wraps one arm around Ron, the other around Hermione and then they hold each other up long enough so that they’ll be able to stand on their own. Even if only just for a few more hours.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, - tears of grief mixing with tears of relief, Hermione’s hair in his face, and Ron’s hand squeezing his arm, - before he notices that they’re not alone. That there are three more survivors by the window behind them.

But finally, he notices them, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, the trio who held up Hogwarts while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were hunting for a way to save their world. The people who years ago went with him into the belly of the beast trying to save Sirius.

He can’t believe they all survived. He’s so glad that all six of them survived.

He smiles at them and laughs. Suddenly so giddy he doesn’t even know what’s coming over him.

“Hey,” he chokes out and then suddenly their hug grows by three and all of them are giggling like they’ve been hit by overpowered cheering charms. They’re all bloody, injured, and dirty with sweat. And they’re alive, and it’s over, and it hurts but it’s also the best feeling ever and Harry hasn’t felt this free in- maybe ever.

There’s tears running over his cheeks and a smile on his face and he doesn’t know what tomorrow looks like.

---

Turns out tomorrow is cold and windy and the sunrise by the lake is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a year. The sky is red and golden and blue and purple all mixed together.

They’d all spent the night at Hogwarts. Not all of them having anywhere else to go, many of their homes having been compromised and destroyed and burned down months ago. It was so strange, sleeping in the Gryffindor dormitory after so long as if nothing had changed, except that there were adults, - even parents, - down in the common room.

Harry had woken up first and restless he’d left before anyone else was even stirring.

Now he’s by the very edge of the lake, his back to the destruction of much of the castle and eyes on the sky. Admiring something he hasn't had time or heart to look at in what feels like years.

When she comes to join him he doesn’t feel surprised. It almost feels like he was waiting.

“Hey, Luna,” he says as soon as she drops beside him and slides her hand around his elbow, leaning her head against his shoulder. He slips the fingers of his hand through hers and smiles when she squeezes their palms together.

“Hi, Harry,” Luna says, toeing off her shoes and socks, - each a different color, he notices, his heart clenching at this reminder of Dobby - and sticking them into the water.

Her head is warm against his cheek and his mind snags on the memory of the last time she was in his arms. Not yesterday when he had arms full of friends and Luna was just one of them but before that when he was regretting never having said anything, never taking any of the opportunities handed to him.

This feels like another of those moments.

And this time he decides to be brave.

“Luna?” he says and turns his head to look at her, their faces only inches apart when Luna turns her own head too. “I-”

Words fail him but slowly he picks up his free hand and tucks her hair behind her ear, carefully so that it doesn’t snag against her radish earring and lingers there.

Luna’s mouth twists into a little knowing smile that’s hard to misinterpret and then she leans forward and all Harry has to do is finish breaching the distance before his lips touch hers and his mind comes to a slow gentle stop.

Luna’s lips are warmer than the sunrise he’d just been admiring. They move slowly against his like she’s exploring this feeling alongside him, or like she’s searching for proof of one of her strange creatures and the answer is somewhere inside him.

His heart beats slow and steady but also impossibly loudly in his ears. And his entire world narrows down to Luna’s lips against his, Luna’s hand in his, the side of Luna’s face against the palm of his hand, and the softness of her hair between his fingers.

A lifetime later when they pull away from each other and the world slots back into place he doesn’t feel any different. He’s still exhausted, and a bit lost and mourning for far too many friends but he’s also just a little bit less alone.

“Thank you for coming back, Harry,” Luna says and moves back into his side, chin resting against his shoulder.

He smiles.

They stay like that for a minute and then Harry finds himself wondering out loud what he hasn’t let himself consider in his head. “What are we going to do now?”

“What do you want to do?” Luna asks, voice measured and thoughtful.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think I do either,” Luna says. “But won’t it be wonderful to find out?”

He thinks about that. About how until now he’d only known that he either had to kill Voldemort or die trying when he didn’t know what he’d do after the war because there was no ‘after the war’. Now his future is wide open and he has no idea what he wants to do with it but he does have choices, - chances, - in front of him that he didn’t before.

He could join the Aurors like he planned even though it no longer feels like as attractive an option now that he’s spent so long fighting. But he could. Or he could think more about Hermione mentioning once during DA how he’d make a good teacher. Or he could join Luna if she still wants to go off exploring the world and finding new magical creatures. It might be nice to take a vacation away from Britain.

He could play professional Quidditch. Or help the Weasleys fix their home. Or get to know his godson. Or help Hermione find her parents.

The future is just a hand’s reach away now and it all looks so amazing.

“Yeah,” he muses aloud and pulls Luna closer, “it really will be.”

#lunarry #luna x harry #harry x luna #luna lovegood #harry potter #hp fic #lunarry fic #fanfic #mine #otp: nargles in the mistletoe

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gerbiloftriumph · 4 years ago

Photo

The Size of Hope

(also on ao3)

Mordon isn’t certain what to make of the fairy tale king his goblin friends captured, and King Graham has no idea what to make of the huge and clumsy goblin who keeps running into his path. The two warily team up, but neither one belongs in the goblin kingdom, and some pain runs deeper than either expects.

(Gen canon-expansion fic putting scrapped fragments from the subtitle file back into the game. Full fic warnings: bruising, canon-typical violence, self-hatred, abuse, Goblins Do Not Make Good Friends)

~*~*~

5/5

(1: Seen)(2: Found)(3: Buried)(4: Lost)(5: Hands to Hold and Hope)

~*~*~

Much, much later:

Two old men stare blankly at each other. They stand in the tunnels beneath Daventry, in the old well where Graham’s journey to knighthood had begun; where his journey to kinghood had been completed; where Manny had hidden for years; where Mordon—Mordack, now—had grown out of his goblin armor. The waterfalls splash and echo oddly in the cold, empty caves. There used to be a dragon in here. Before Manny let it out to wreak havoc on the lands above. There used to be a lot in here. And now there’s just the king and the goblin and the memories.

“Look, before you do his test of strength or whatever,” Mordack says, looking down at his feet. “I need to know. Do you remember the goblin caves? When the villagers were taken? And we met? Did you…you really didn’t know? That I was…not a goblin?”

Graham blinks, startled. “Mordack, that was fifty years ago.”

“Yeah. I know.” As though he hasn’t thought about it every night since then. He tries to play it casual. “But. Did you know?”

A hesitation. Graham stares at the nearby waterfall, at the little cave with the stained alchemy tables and worn fragments of life. Then: “No. I didn’t know. Not at first. I suspected, I truly did, and for that I take the blame, but I had no proof. Not until it was too late. I wish….” He can’t seem to find the right words.

The two men look at each other across years, and it’s uneasy, this not knowing what might have happened if Mordack had become a Daventry citizen that night. If Manny (once considered Mordon’s favorite illustrator, a champion of stories) hadn’t stopped him from going to Graham’s castle after he’d calmed down. If he had grown up with Graham instead of Manny. If things had changed in just that one tiny moment.

The pause stretches on and on.

Mordack clears his throat. “You’d better go find that crystal. Follow the signs. Manny’s made it very clear.”

“Yes, he has.” Graham leaves slowly, quietly.

Mordack stands for a long time, waiting. And when Graham doesn’t return, not for minutes, not for hours, he sinks to his knees helplessly and stares into the water.

~*~*~

At the end of the story, all three men stand on the Floating Island. Around them, goblins crowd the audience stands, jeering and applauding and pushing each other and generally causing trouble. Graham and Manny (he prefers Manannan these days) are glaring daggers at each other. Or at least, Manannan is. Graham just looks…tired. He’s been playing all the games, performing as demanded, and drunk frankly silly amounts of wine in this final challenge. (So has Manannan, but Graham is showing his exhaustion more, doesn’t have magic to bolster him up like the wizard.) Somehow that hasn’t dulled the old king at the puzzles: he’s successfully avoided every dose of hypnotic powder hidden in some of the cups. (But so has Manannan.)

The New and Improved Duel of Wits is nearing its end. Mordack is off to one side, guarding the crystal Manannan is using as his power base, the crystal giving the wizard power and strength. Guarding it in case Graham tries something heroic and foolish.

Mordack knows what the final test is. Knows someone is going to die.

And he’s not sure who he wants it to be.

In truth, he knows he exchanged one set of chains for another when he teamed up with Manannan. Ordered to act against Daventry. To raise a kidnapped prince as a slave, to train a dragon to burn on command, to manipulate and twist an ice queen into a pawn—with nothing but abuse and threats as a reward. Cruelty and mockery. Never the soft words of a family, not from Manannan. Just bitter schemes in the night and anger in the morning. Hopeless and helpless.

But Graham hadn’t ever tried to reach out to him and rescue him, either. Not that Mordack had ever asked, ever indicated he was struggling.

And anyway, Mordack didn’t deserve rescuing. Not after what he had done to Graham in anger and hate. How he had tried so hard to rip the king’s happiness away, tried to make him feel that cold despair.

He touches the sharp slashes across his cheek. Four long and deep scars that Graham himself struck during one of Manannan’s schemes. The injury had been triggered in self-defense: Mordack would have killed Graham and his family if Graham hadn’t lashed out with magic in that one desperate, clawing moment. That strike across Mordack’s face had distracted him long enough to lose the fight. Had saved the royal family from a cruel fate, had protected the kingdom. But Mordack still wears the scars like a flag.

The pain of being slashed haunts his nightmares. The king, fending off a monster.

No more than Mordack deserves.

No monster deserves to be saved. The wolf, the fox, hated and hunted.

No, this is for the best. This is a fair contest. Whoever wins, wins, and that’ll be that.

And the last two cups are nasty. It’s a half and half chance. One will win, and one will be poisoned.

(I hope it’s Graham.)

One will die.

(I hope it’s Manannan.)

One will win the kingdom.

(I don’t know what I want.)

They can’t puzzle their way out of this. The cups are identical in every detail—other than the crucial poison lurking in one of them. Graham has the first choice. Like he did when he was young. Two cups, and a kingdom between them. Literally. A magical rendition, as real as the real country, is displayed on the table, another silent witness to this story’s end. Mordack watches the old king make a choice, watches him drink. They wait a moment, but Graham starts to smile—it tasted clear and clean. Poisonless. He’s won. The audience cheers, not caring who wins but just pleased that the game has been good.

But of course Manannan won’t play fair. He picks up the poisoned cup, waves it at Graham almost playfully—but instead of drinking it and accepting his fate like he was meant to, he tips it over.

The poison gloops out of the cup. It will drip into that magical image of Daventry, curse deeper than any other curse could. The once cheerful and bright kingdom will turn to ashes and hatred. He’d rather destroy everything than let Graham win.

Mordack can tell what happens next is an impulse. Graham lunges across the table, knocks the cup back, and all the poison absorbs into his hands in a crackle of green light. He stares at his hands, at the flashing, curling scars twirling across his worn fingers before fading to look like old scars, white and raised against his skin.

He will die. Slowly, perhaps, but that’s that. He lost. He won, but he lost.

Manannan is taken aback, but he rallies. “Huh. Nice move. I’ll accept that,” he says, and then he raises his hand, “but let’s see if I can help speed up the effects.”

His fingers snap.

Graham shrieks, weakened by poison, by stress, by wine, by everything, and helpless to defend himself. Cruel magic takes hold.

The old king is the puppet Manannan always wanted, now. The strings might not be visible to the naked eye, but Mordack has been around enough of Manannan’s magic to imagine it. He can picture the sticky green strands wrapped around the king’s arms, legs, torso, neck, tighter than any goblin rope, impossible to break. Manannan laughs as he throws the king across the stage with just a flick of his wrist, smashing him against the ground, against the tables—wine cups roll, spilling their hypnotic contents across the grass and fizzling. Mordack is sure he can hear the king’s arm break as he hurtles helplessly against the ground again and again, the snap echoing in his ears.

Graham smiled at you.

No one had ever smiled at you before. Just bared teeth and growls and insults and usually a kick or several.

Graham might be unconscious—his head has lolled forward on his chest. No smiles now.

His body is slack. The one arm is definitely broken, awkward and loose looking. There might be more broken pieces. It’s hard to be sure. Manannan is holding him high in the air now, pausing, considering what he wants to do next.

Graham waved at you.

A gentle hand, raised to greet you, to acknowledge you.

But the arm’s broken now.

“You’ve already won!” Mordack cries. “There’s no need to torture him.”

Manannan ignores him, flinging the king high and yanking him down again.

Bully. Hurting someone who can’t fight back. Thumping again and again and again.

Selfless. Graham lunged across the table to catch the cup, to lose everything and save everything. He reached out and touched your bruised arm, the lightest of affirmations. Fingers that now drip with poison, with the curse, with death—but in the goblin caves they had been full of life. They still were full of life. They protected, those hands. They had saved Daventry at such a cost.

He insulted the stories. Mordack had spent his life since that moment with that book hating how he’d been given hope and hating how that hope had been ripped from him so quickly. Hating the king.

He made a mistake. That shouldn’t be the end.

You’re not a mistake, either.

“Leave him be. I won’t ask you again.” Mordack’s voice is deep in his throat, a goblin grumble, and it seems to echo around the platform.

“I always guessed you’d side with him,” Manannan says, grinning darkly in his moment of triumph. “It was only a matter of time. You’re a useless monster, with no loyalty. I guess it’s time I held your tongue, too.” One hand still holds the king, but the other hand reaches out and snaps.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts.

Pain erupts through Mordack’s body, hot and cold and agonizing. Crackles and snaps along his muscles, freezing him in place, blinding him, and he can’t even cry out, can’t move, can’t breathe. He scrambles to focus, fighting against an invisible enemy that has him utterly pinned down from within his soul.

Monster. Just a monster. Pitiful and weak, never better than an unwanted, abandoned human shrouded in goblin armor.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts!

Manannan is enjoying watching Mordack writhe and twist. The smile grows wider, more pleased than he’s been in years. A bleak smile, barred and fanged and deadly. Graham is limp in the magic’s grip, eyes closed—can’t tell if he’s breathing or not anymore.

Mordack can feel himself losing consciousness too. It hurts to breathe. If he could just close his eyes and sleep, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. He wouldn’t feel anymore. This betrayal from his master—his brother, the goblin who swapped places with him all those years ago—wouldn’t mean anything anymore.

No loyalty.

But the king…

Maybe there were different types of monsters. Maybe there were different loyalties. Different truths. Maybe he wanted to know. Maybe it wasn’t too late to find out.

Mordack yanks against the magic that wraps around his wrists, forces his way past the pain (it couldn’t hurt worse than it already is; what’s another searing agony compared to all the rest), raises his hand high above his head, curls it into a fist, and slams down against the crystal. It shatters, shards flying in all directions, sharp edges cutting his hands. The sound is almost pleasant, a ringing chime, like music. He can feel the magic rushing through him, streaming beyond his fingers and curling into the sky.

Instantly, Manannan’s hands drop, and Graham and Mordack collapse like puppets with cut strings, and Manannan reaches out to Mordack and the crystal, screaming, but it’s too late, much, much too late, and the loosed magic is overwhelming, and it turns on him and rips through him and he loses control, loses everything, and then…the wizard is simply gone, consumed by his own magic. Gone in a puff of smoke.

Mordack pushes himself to his knees. Feels sick. But his head is quickly clearing without the magic tearing against him. He can’t rest. Not yet.

He runs to the king. To Graham. He kneels, reaches out, freezes, recoils, hesitates, reaches again, gently touches. Graham moans, barely conscious, and Mordack pushes closer, pulls the king toward him, mindful of the broken arm, of the blossoming bruises, of the pain.

The world is still. He can’t hear anything. Can’t feel anything but the weight of the king in his arms.

Graham opens his eyes. They’re blurred, dizzy, hazy.

“King? Ohh, fairy tale king?” Mordack whispers, cradling him, feeling like a child again, lost and alone in the caves. “Graham?”

“Who…?” Graham’s voice is breathless, his eyes still unfocused.

“I am…Mordon.”

Graham blinks, considers, and then the focus comes back into his eyes. Recognition blazes across his face as he remembers, as he realizes, and he smiles. “Not Mordack?”

“No, not Mordack, not anymore. Come on, easy now,” Mordon says, draping Graham’s good arm over his shoulder, helping him stand. They stumble against each other, and Graham winces, but Mordon steadies them, and he turns toward Daventry castle. “I’ve got you. You’re with me. Let’s get you home.”

#/slaps roof of fic - this bad boy can fit so many parallels in it #King's Quest #King Graham #kings quest #mordack #fic'ing #ch5

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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FIC: Bedside Stories ch.4 (baon)

Summary: Stretch is on a quest and just because it’s on a bus and not a steed, doesn’t mean it’s not noble.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury,

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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CH1 | CH2 | CH3

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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When Stretch jerked awake his first panicked thought was that he’d missed his stop. But no, the Embassy dropoff was coming up next, looming up through the bus windshield. Guess he had some latent directional sense buried in one of the dusty corners of his psyche.

Not like he’d meant to fall asleep, but Edge’s insomnia seemed to be contagious. He’d started out the ride browsing on twitter, trying to think of something noncommittal to say that also wasn’t too lighthearted, given what was blaring about Monsters lately on Fox news.

He'd been strictly forbidden from discussing anything surrounding the bombings with his followers and normally restrictions like that made him bristle, his nonexistent nerves going full porcupine. In this instance, he’d only meekly agreed, but that didn’t keep his followers from doing their math. No Humans actually knew how few skeleton Monsters there were, but then, most Monster species were a little on the sparse side. Some clever bloggers had linked pictures of Edge’s boots from Stretch’s twitter to the shots the press released of the bombing aftermath. Stretch hadn’t looked at those pictures too closely, but he’d seen the zoomed in shots with the boots circled with Microsoft paint.

Without him saying a word, it was suddenly an ill-kept secret that his husband was hurt and the messages were pouring in, asking for confirmation, offering condolences, donations, even sending prayers which was weird, but sorta kind. Sorta.

Twitter was less a distraction and more an unwanted obligation this week, and he’d finally put his phone away. He wasn’t the only Monster on board, not on a bus route that went past the Embassy. At this time of day, there weren’t many others. They’d offered smiles and murmured greetings, then pretty much left him alone.

That was fine by him. But with no one to chat to, he must’ve drifted off and it was nice to see he’d managed to scrape together enough good luck not to end up all the way downtown. Hopefully, he had enough leftover to take him to the end of this mission.

He was still a little bleary as he got off the bus. The sight of the protesters lining the sidewalk, all bundled up and sitting in their lawn chairs with their signs woke him up pretty damn quick. Eh, shit, he’d promised Edge he’d teleport right into the lobby, but he hadn’t called ahead and popping in when they were under high alert seemed like a poor life choice. Instead, he shortcutted to the front door, hey, he was following the spirit of the promise which was to keep safe and scaring the shit out of the security guard wasn’t it.

The guard on duty didn’t much look like he’d be surprised if Stretch shortcutted in on his lap. Murray was a huge, hulking Monster, with curling horns and a thirst for crosswords. He barely looked up at his current one, mumbling a greeting as Stretch swiped his card to push through the turnstile. He’d done pretty much the same thing every time Stretch stopped in, including when he’d shown up in just a bed sheet. There was one Monster who wasn’t worried about current events, almost had to admire that kind of skill in blatantly ignoring a crisis.

Stretch stepped into the elevator alone and pushed the button, vaguely humming the theme song to ‘Mission Impossible’. Not that it was, but eh, life could use a soundtrack from time to time.

It was too damn bad he didn’t have time to visit Andy while he was here; he hadn’t even seen his office yet and was planning to get him something for his desk. Maybe a Newton’s cradle, that seemed traditional, but a Nerf gun was a good way to build a community. He made a mental promise to come visit Edge for lunch someday and stop in bearing gifts.

The elevator dinged and Stretch got off, heading down the hallway. He’d only been here a couple of times, but he knew right where he was going.

The slim Monster sitting at the desk looked up as he came in, his cheery smile fading into something a little more forced. Asgore’s assistant, Kevin, was probably an okay guy, but none-too-fond of Stretch’s approach where his boss was concerned and Stretch was never exactly excited to spend any time with Asgore’s biggest fan. “Can I help you?”

“yeah. is ass-gore in or is he busy glad-handing his way down the hallways.” Really, Stretch couldn’t fathom why Kevin didn’t like him.

That forced smile iced over. “I beg your pardon.”

Slowly and deliberately, Stretch said, “is. asgore. in.”

“I’m afraid he’s not taking appointments today.” If Kevin got any colder, he’d be spitting ice chips across his desk and mess up all that important paperwork.

Stretch gave him a thin smile. “look we both know i’m in your office as a courtesy, so let’s go ahead and keep it courteous, yeah? i don’t want to play dodge-ums today after i scaring the shit out of him popping in, and he could probably do without any fresh surprises.”

He was pretty sure he was about to be told in very polite and courteous language to get fucked with the intercom crackled, Asgore’s voice booming over the line.

“Let him in.”

It was probably petty to smirk smugly at Kevin as he walked past him. It definitely was to give him a little backhanded finger-waggle of a wave. But eh, it served his purpose to use up a little of his distaste before he stepped into the office where Asgore was waiting behind the desk.

He started to rise and Stretch could almost feel the cheerfully ‘Howdy’ start to vibrate in the air before he choked it back to a more sedate, “Good afternoon, Stretch, won’t you sit down?”

Asgore gestured to a large, overstuffed sofa and Stretch almost said no, less out of ingrained spitefulness and more because he was agitated, already fidgeting with his lighter as he took a seat.

He waited while Asgore did the same, settling across from him in a chair that’d probably had to be specially made. Not many Humans hit Boss Monster sizes and those that did probably wished for a shorter inseam. It was hard enough for Stretch to find pants.

Asgore laced his hands comfortably over his belly and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“i need a favor,” Stretch said bluntly, ignoring Asgore’s visible surprise. He didn’t much have the time or inclination to draw this out, “i need you to let edge come back to work.”

The surprise on Asgore’s expression only deepened, leaving him distinctly taken aback, his furry caterpillar eyebrows drawn downward. Yeah, Stretch got that; him not only asking for a favor but for THAT favor was worth some eyebrow gymnastics.

“You want him back to work,” Asgore repeated slowly.

“i don’t actually, not really, but he needs to come back.”

“Is everything all right?” Asgore asked delicately. Looking into his concerned face was making his anxiety give the mambo a try; Stretch didn’t want to discuss Edge with Asgore, not as his King, his boss, or that fatherly role that he tried so hard to step into. He looked past him instead, at the picture on the wall between two bookcases. A painting, not a very good one, but recognizably of golden flowers. They didn’t transplant well from the Underground, a lot of Monsters mourned easy access to their favorite tea and Stretch wondered if Asgore had painted it. Maybe Frisk, the kid was fond of their adopted dad and--

Asgore was nothing if not polite and didn’t say anything while Stretch woolgathered long enough for enough yarn to make to make a sweater.

Shit or get off the pot was one of Red’s favorite idioms, not one of Stretch’s faves and kinda ironic considering that none of them had asses, but sometimes it was the truth. “i know you think you’re doing him a favor but you’re not. he’s stuck at home on our sofa, he can’t go running, can’t clean, can’t even cook, and he’s being forced to watch all this shit go down from the buzzfeed angle. you can’t take away his reason for living like this.”

The chair creaked ominously as Asgore shifted his weight. “I’d like to hope his job isn’t his reason for living.”

“it’s not the job. it’s helping people. he needs to help people,” Stretch took a deep breath, he was doing a shit job explaining this and Asgore didn’t look very convinced. “look, i know depressed, okay, and he’s verging on it. you have to give him something. i know him, better than you, better than anyone. he’s been glued to the boob tube all week, writing notes, making plans. let him help a little, it’ll calm all those protective instincts down if he thinks he’s helping.”

At least Asgore seemed to consider that. He propped his head up on a hand the size of a meatloaf. Or a chicken. “He hasn’t scheduled his mental health assessment yet.”

“i know. skip it for now, he’ll get it done later.”

Asgore frowned, his face creasing with concern. “The assessment is for his own good. It’s not simply bureaucratic nonsense, it is for his well being.”

Stretch was already nodding, absently noting the click-click-click of his lighter weaving in and out through his fingers. “i get that, i do. can you trust my assessment? look, i’ll get him into the head shrinker if that’s what you want, but don’t make his job conditional on it. i’m a big proponent of mental health care and i’ve got vested reasons for making sure he’s doing okay. but he needs this.”

Asgore was obviously thinking hard, looking at nothing over his steepled fingers, but Stretch wasn’t sure which side of the teeter-totter he was gonna come down on. Being able to read people’s intent and souls was a skill Stretch still had, but he was hella out of practice and didn’t really want to train back up.

“All right,” Asgore said at last. “On three conditions.”

“three!”

He spread his large hands. “This is not a small favor.”

Stretch sighed and slumped back. He wasn’t wrong and Stretch knew from personal experience that when Asgore had you by the balls, he knew how to give ‘em a good, firm twist. It was kinda chuckilicious, really. “start talking.”

“First, I tell him it’s my idea.”

“why?” Stretch said immediately. He had an inkling, but better to not take anything for granted.

Asgore was ready for him. “Because he will appreciate my trust in him and his skills, and because he will not appreciate you interfering like this. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t. “deal.”

“Second, you promise me that you’ll get him in for that assessment. I’ll give you until the end of the month, but if it hasn’t been done, I‘ll suspend him.”

“promise.” There was a sour taste on the back of his tongue as he waited for the last ticky box.

“And last, you shake my hand.”

“what?” That one got him sitting forward, sputtering out, “why?”

“Because you’re asking a favor,” Asgore said serenely. He laced his hands over his soft middle again. “And those are my terms.”

Stretch glared hotly at him, but Asgore was unperturbed. Probably had lots of people scarier that Stretch giving him the ol’ death glare.

Welp, it was hardly the worst thing he’d ever done.

Stretch held out his hand and Asgore leaned forward to take it.

The loud whirr of the joybuzzer made Asgore jump and jerk his hand back, but he only laughed heartily, slapping his knees as he rose. “All right, I’ll have his access restored by this evening. I trust you’ll keep him from overdoing it?”

“yeah, i got it,” Stretch stood hastily and tucked the joy buzzer back into his pocket. He resisted the urge to scrub his hand on his pants. Asgore would take it wrong and he wasn’t that much of a dick, even if that furry palm made his bones tickle something fierce. He headed for the door, relief already seeping in. “thanks.”

“Stretch?” he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m glad you came to me.”

“don’t make this into some bonding moment, okay?” Stretch gave him a side eye. “it’s not like i had a lot of other people to ask.”

Asgore’s smile twisted wryly. “Of course. Be careful on your ride home.”

Stretch didn’t say, ‘thanks, grandma’, but it was a close thing.

Simply walking past the daggers Kevin was glaring at him was exhausting and the second he was out of the office, Stretch shortcutted down to the elevators.

In no time he was safely back on the bus, slumped down. He was ready for another nap, but there wasn’t time for that. The main story line on his adventure was was done, but he still had a side quest to finish.

He opened an app on his phone and tapped in an order, and by the time the bus trundled to a halt at the bus stop outside the Golden City, it was waiting for him with one of their drivers, bundled into a warm jacket with the goods in hand. The young man who handed in the bag filled with cartons of yumminess only grinned at him, but he took the hefty tip Stretch offered without complaint.

Stretch plopped the heavy bag on the seat next to him and slumped back again, “home, jeeves,” Stretch mumbled to nobody and he hoped if he zonked out again one of the other Monsters on the bus would be kind enough to give him a nudge.

By the time he walked through his front door again, feeling worn and jelly-wobbly , Edge was awake and dressed, with an opened book in his hands.

“hey, babe,” Stretch called, kicking off his shoes and leaving them piled on the mat. “sorry i ditched on you, but my cooking skills have been tested to their limit and it’s a little late to hire gordon ramsey for the night.”

“Yes, I saw your note.” He set the book aside and his warm smile was like an infusion, easing some of Stretch’s weariness. “What treasures did you bring us from the shores of Ebott?”

“arr, matey,” Stretch laughed. “except i didn’t get any fish. hope chinese sounds good.”

“Golden City?” Edge said slowly and something in his voice made Stretch hesitate.

Shit.

They hadn’t been back there together since the whole thing with Andy. Stretch hadn’t even thought about that in a while, he’d gone over it with his therapist and that’d been crap, but honestly, he liked to put that one into the win category. Andy was okay and had a new job, the shitbags were in jail, and public opinion ended up on their side. Plus, he wasn’t about to let any assholes ruin Chinese food for him, thanks, but Edge didn’t look like he’d gotten that memo.

Stretch’d gone back on his own a couple times for the lunch special, had he ever mentioned that to Edge? He couldn’t remember, he hadn’t been hiding it or anything, it just never came up. Until now, and the last thing he wanted to do was get Edge to relive any other shitty event highlights.

“yeah, um,” Stretch forced cheer into his voice. “i had them bring the takeout bags to the bus stop, saved myself a walk.”

Whatever Edge was thinking in that head of his, he didn’t let it out to play. He only nodded, looking back at his book as he said, “Clever. It does sound good.”

“great!” Stretch said brightly, maybe not a firework, but he could try for a sparkler. “i’ll go get some plates.” With dismal humor, he thought that if he injected in any more manic cheer, he’d start to sound like his bro. He set the bags down on the coffee table next to the pile of pillows and headed for the kitchen, since Edge had very strong opinions on eating out of cartons that he wasn’t shy about sharing.

By the time they were settled in with their plates, whatever concerns Edge had about Stretch revisiting the scene of a crime, as it were, seemed to have been banished. He ate hungrily and that alone was a relief. He’d been picking at his meals for the past day or so and Stretch didn’t think his cooking was entirely to blame. Just added data to his hypothesis that with proper application, sex was a cure for many ills. Worked for him, anyway.

Halfway through the last carton of chop suey, Edge’s phone pinged. Stretch kept his attention on his plate, slurping up noodles with an impressive amount of noise for someone who lacked lips. Out of the corner of his socket he saw Edge frowning at the message.

“Asgore is restoring my Embassy access,” Edge said slowly. “He said that with everything that’s happening, they need my assistance, and he’s asking that I work half days for the rest of the week.”

Okay, here was where he put his acting skills to the test and if he couldn’t go for an Oscar, he at least needed a Golden Globe.

Stretch worked up what he hoped was the proper amount of indignant anger and said, “seriously? you got one week off to recover from almost getting blown up and ass-gore can’t even give you that?” And before Edge could say anything, he threw his hand up, dumping his empty plate on the coffee table hard enough for his fork to clatter. “you know what? never mind. go ahead, help out, at least it’ll be for a good cause and not him using you as an extra security guard.”

“No,” Edge set his phone aside, “I’m not doing it.”

Um, what? “what?” Stretch said blankly, fuck, he was going to get a razzy with this performance, must’ve chewed the scenery too hard.

“No. I was thinking while you were gone and I’ve been acting appallingly since we got home. I’ve been sulking like a child while you’ve been trying so hard to care for me.” He touched Stretch’s cheek bone gently, his glove velvety soft as he ran his thumb across it. “Considering how things were between us when I left for California, I think I need to focus more on you than paperwork.”

Well, this was some modern-day gift of the magi shit, now wasn’t it? Last week he would have been thrilled to hear this and now that he’d made a special trip and begged for favors he was getting hoisted by his own fibbing petard.

Okay, nope, his hard work was not going to be in vain, damn it, this chapter of his life was going to end with happiness and accolades all around. Edge might be the strategy guy, but Stretch wasn’t half-bad on the fly, and his plans might be a little loose, or chaotic as Edge put it, but he could plan.

First, he gave Edge a kiss, made sure to linger, made it sweet, soft, trying to pour his love into it, until he was almost distracted himself.

Next step, bullshit.

He leaned back, cupping Edge’s face in his hands and gave him the best smile he had left on the shelf. “that’s really sweet, babe, but how about a compromise? you can spend a couple hours in the afternoon working while i take a nap. that’ll let you get all your ‘save the world’ energy out in time for dinner, yeah?”

Ooh, might have a winner here. Edge was visibly wavering, probably thinking of all the luscious paperwork he could get through in a couple of hours. Time to go for the throat, “beside, janice is probably going nuts without you. if you help out, maybe she’ll be able to get home in time to see her kiddos before bedtime.”

Direct hit, winner winner, no chicken for dinner, “That...would be helpful, yes.” Edge gave him another toe-curling, shivery kiss before he murmured, “Promise me that you don’t mind?”

Stretch twitched back, grimacing. He’d been making an awful lot of promises lately. “i promise.”

He stood up to clear away the plates and leftovers, and by the time he got back, Edge already had his laptop out and was typing away. Stretch was about to put a movie on and let him work, but before he could even steal the remote, Edge said, “My access is also conditional on my getting that assessment.”

Um, wow, okay, they were actually talking about this? Cautiously, Stretch offered, “i take it you’re not a big fan of the idea.”

He tried to say it as neutrally as he could, but Edge set his laptop on the side table and took his hand, tugging him down into his lap. Stretch settled gingerly, watching his husband’s face carefully for any hint of discomfort. There was none, and he let Edge tuck his head against his shoulder, his hand smoothing down Stretch’s back.

“Stretch, i don’t mean to imply that there is anything wrong with therapy or that it’s somehow beneath me. I’m not that much of a hypocrite and I can see that it’s been helping you,” Edge hesitated and Stretch held his breath, remembering when Edge told him it was easier to talk sometimes if Stretch wasn’t looking at him. He kept his head down, snuggling into Edge in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “My issue is that it’s difficult for me to open up to anyone and this is a colleague. I see them in the hallways, in the cafeteria. I’m struggling with the idea of answering the kind of questions they might ask me.”

“okay,” Stretch said slowly. “so see someone else?”

Edge jerked and when Stretch lifted his head, he looked so surprised that Stretch couldn’t help smiling. Trust his baby to be looking for the answer to a complex puzzle when the easiest route was staring him in the face.

“i could talk to my therapist?” Stretch offered. “see if she could recommend someone.”

“A Human.”

“yeah, probably. would that be a problem?”

“I..no,” Edge said slowly. “No, I think that would be better. Perhaps I should simply talk with your therapist, I already know her and she’s done well for you and Sans.”

That made him feel a little squirmy inside; he told things to Doctor Lee that he’d never told anyone, not his own brother, not Edge. It was only an assessment, not like a weekly commitment, but--

“can i think about it?”

“Of course.” No concern, no anger, only another gentle kiss. He slipped off Edge’s lap before they got carried away, no double-dipping on afternoon delights while anyone had a cast. Stretch settled down on the sofa, the top of his skull leaning on Edge’s femur, and flicked a movie on, the volume low and subtitles running. Edge was typing away on his laptop, but occasionally a hand would stroke over his skull, helping to lull him to sleep.

Stretch couldn’t say how long he lay there drowsing, and he murmured a faint protest when Edge eventually pulled away and stood.

“I’m only getting a drink, love and I need to work out the kinks.”

“i can help you with any kink, make a list,” Stretch mumbled.

An amused sound close to his skull and a rough kiss pressed on top of it. “We’ll try that when I’m back on two feet.”

Vaguely, he heard Edge crutch his way to the kitchen, the door swinging open then shut, listening to the faint murmur of the television. The sudden crash was almost deafening, even through the kitchen door, jolting Stretch awake. Before he could do more than look around wildly, Edge called his name, and fuck, fuck, he’d never heard Edge like that, called his name, no, no, he yelled it, screamed it. Not hurt, no, he sounded scared when had Edge ever sounded scared?

Before he shortcutted into the kitchen, his magic running hot, ready to deal with what the fuck ever dared come to their house, his last darkly amused thought was that he shouldn’t have used all his good luck that afternoon.

-tbc-

Check me out on AO3 | I’m also on twitter

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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samsexualdeancurious · 5 years ago

Text

Thanks For Listening | Chapter Three

Square: Free Space

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,653

Warnings: hurt!Reader, pining, eventual smut, dirty talk, voice!kink, unprotected sex.

Summary: Sam hosts two podcasts - a secret one for hunters called the War Room and a public one with fellow hunter Y/N called Criminal History. Y/N and Sam have never seen each other, let alone met, but that doesn’t stop Sam from worrying when Y/N suddenly goes missing.

Betaed by @manawhaat

Written for @spnkinkbingo

Header by me and Mana

Masterlist - AO3

The Impala is simultaneously absolutely gorgeous and scary as fuck.

You’re sitting in a diner on the edge of town when the black beast of a car pulls into the parking lot, a stark contrast to the crisp white snow piling up. You hear the roar of the engine first and twist in your seat to see it. Sam texted you about thirty minutes ago to let you know their ETA and what the car looks like, as well as what they’re wearing - you told him what you’re wearing as well so he should be able to recognize you. Your stomach flips at the sight of the car and you force yourself to face forward in your seat instead of staring.

The waitress has just brought your coffee when the bell over the door rings. You glance up and your breath catches in your throat.

You see Dean first. He’s tall, broad shoulders made even broader by his green jacket. Like most hunters, he’s dressed in at least three layers including the jacket, blue jeans, and heavy biker boots. He’s handsome in a classically beautiful way, with his strong jaw, plump lips, and carefully styled hair. Behind him, though, is a man who takes your breath away.

Sam is taller than his brother and handsome in a more… ethereal way? It’s not a word you would ever think to use to describe a man, let alone a fellow hunter, but it fits Sam’s high cheekbones and pointed, almost delicate features. He’s layered up, too, with a dusty orange jacket over a blue and orange plaid shirt. He brushes a hand through his long hair as he scans the diner quickly. Fox-tilted eyes land on you and Sam’s face lights up.

“Y/N!” he says happily, crossing the diner with a few strides of those ridiculously long legs.

Before you realize you’ve moved, you’re on your feet and Sam is sweeping you into his embrace. You loop your own arms around his slim waist and can’t resist breathing in his scent - coffee and sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.

“Hiya, Chief,” you say, grinning up at him. “Glad to finally put a face to the voice.”

Sam’s smile is captivating. He’s a little scruffy but that doesn’t hide his adorable dimples and it definitely doesn’t hide the beauty mark beside his nose. A sudden desire to kiss that little mark wells up in your chest but you quickly push that down.

“This is Dean,” Sam is saying, beckoning his brother over.

“Hi.” Dean offers his hand for you to shake, green eyes taking you in. He’s putting on a flirtatious front but you can see that he’s sizing you up, deciding whether or not you’re a threat.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” you tell him. “Sam talks about you a lot.”

Dean chuckles and relaxes a little. “Trust me, he talks a lot about you, too. It’s about time you kids finally met.”

Your cheeks heat up and you duck your head a little, hoping neither brother notices. When you glance up at Dean again, though, he’s smirking. Shit, he definitely knows.

“I hope this place has good burgers,” Dean says, thankfully choosing to ignore your (probably very obvious) crush on his brother. “Move your ass, Sammy. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

The brothers immediately start bickering, a back and forth that’s both hilarious and heartwarming to witness. You sit again and the boys slide into the other side of the booth, somehow managing to order their food without once breaking their stride. When the food arrives, Dean launches into teasing Sam about his grilled chicken sandwich. Sam just shakes his head and turns his attention to you.

“I’m so sorry you have to listen to this,” he says, his tone telling you he’s getting back at his brother a little.

“Hey now,” Dean protests. “I’m a joy to listen to.”

You can’t help a giggle at Sam’s eye roll. “I don’t mind, really. It’s actually kind of sweet to see you guys like this, considering the reputation you Winchesters have in the community.”

Sam’s expression softens at that and he turns his attention back to his food with a smile. Dean, however, pouts and begins shoveling food in his mouth.

“So, Wendigo?” Dean asks around a mouthful of food, interrupting the moment of silence that’s settled. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while.”

“We packed some camping gear.” Sam side eyes his brother, who actually looks kind of adorable with his cheeks full of food. “But I’m hoping we won’t have to spend the night outside.”

“I’ve got a room at the place down the street,” you say. “It’s mine for the week. I think they have some vacancies left so you guys can sleep in proper beds.”

---

After the boys get their own cabin at the Aspen Cottages, you decide it would be better to only take one car and all pile into the Impala. You, unlike Dean, don’t mind riding in the backseat, especially of a car as gorgeous and well cared for as the Impala.

The drive to the campsite is a bumpy one and you arrive around sundown. You hate hunting in the woods at night and part of you wants to ask the boys to camp until morning but you also don’t want to spend any more time out here than is absolutely necessary.

“Holy shit, it’s cold,” Dean says, popping open the hidden compartment in the trunk.

You nod, hopping in place a little as you bury your nose in the thick scarf you’re so glad you brought, tugging your hat down tighter over your ears. Sam and Dean don their own winter gear - Sam, you can’t help noting, looks adorable in a beanie - and then you head off along the trail.

---

The Winchesters are excellent trackers. Once you reach the campsite the last victims were taken from, they quickly pick up the trail of the Wendigo. Dean takes the lead and Sam brings up the rear. You get the distinct feeling he’s doing it to protect you but decide not to mention it. If you’re honest with yourself, it’s a chivalrous gesture you can definitely appreciate.

The forest is eerily silent beyond the crunch of three pairs of boots in the snow. No one talks beyond one or two words for about a half hour, before Sam moves in to walk beside you.

“You doing okay?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

“Sam,” you sigh, shaking your head in fond amusement. “It’s been over a month. I’m fine.”

You can see in the way he turns his head away from you that he would be blushing if his cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold. “Sorry.”

You bump his arm gently with your shoulder. “I don’t mind. It’s sweet.”

Sam’s cheeks turn even redder and he stammers a little. Lucky for him, Dean swoops in.

“Quit flirting, you two. That looks like our wendigo den.”

You follow his pointing finger to a pile of boulders against the cliff face. Behind one of the largest boulders is a dark opening you really don’t want to go into.

“Why can’t monsters ever live in nice places?” you complain, already digging out your flashlight. “At least a cheery little cabin?”

Sam chuckles, giving his flamethrower a once over. Dean stares at him, appalled.

“What?” Sam lifts an eyebrow at his brother.

“I make those jokes and get an eye roll,” Dean says. “She makes those jokes and gets a laugh?”

Sam shrugs, shooting you a wink. “She’s cuter than you are.”

Dean pretends to gag while heat rushes to your cheeks.

“Hey, asshole,” you yell, your voice echoing around the cavern. “Fresh meat.”

The wendigo screeches, claws scraping against the stone walls and sending a shudder down your spine. Beside you, Sam readies the flamethrower as the sounds of the wendigo grow closer.

Suddenly it’s there, looming large in the beam of your flashlight. Sam doesn’t hesitate, the burst of flame striking the wendigo right in the chest. It screams and stumbles backward before crumpling as the flames engulf it.

“Good aim,” you say, relaxing as the creature is devoured by flames.

“Thanks.” Sam flashes you a grin. “We make a pretty good team.”

You shift a little closer to him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

He leans down so his mouth is close to your ear. “I think next time we should do this without Dean.”

You laugh softly, hoping he's hinting at what you think he is as you reply, “Well, I did get my own room.”

Sam brightens up at that. One hand comes up to rest in the small of your back. “That's true.” Something in his tone and the firm press of his hand through your puffy coat suggests he definitely was hinting at exactly what you hope he was.

You allow yourself to be drawn in closer, enjoying the way his body feels against yours even through the layers of bulky winter clothes. Sam tips your chin up with one finger, colorful eyes flickering with wendigo fire searching yours for a moment.

“You’re okay with this?” he asks. Arousal shoots down your spine - something about the desire for consent combined with Sam’s velvet smooth voice is just so… damn.

You nod, lifting your chin in invitation. That’s all Sam needs. His lips press softly against your own, testing the waters. You want more, though, and are more than happy to let Sam know with a hand in his hair. He chuckles and obliges.

“Seriously, guys?”

You break apart frantically, stumbling a little. Dean laughs and brushes between you two. The girls you came to rescue, which he apparently found, giggle and follow. Once they’re moving off down the tunnel, Sam reaches over to take your hand.

Your stomach does more happy flips. Your heart agrees with the sentiment.

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation of Ko-Fi HERE

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @imsuperawkward

Team Sam: @saxxxology

Team TFL: @wonderfulworldofwinchester @kickingitwithkirk @muchamusedaboutnothing @ellen-reincarnated1967 @linki-locks11

#spnkinkbingo #my writing #thanks for listening #sam x reader #supernatural

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topazshadowwolf · 6 years ago

Text

The Door (Chapter 14)

An Undertale Fanfiction by: Topaz Shadowwolf Undertale is owned by: Toby Fox Setting: Post neutral run when Papyrus dies with chapter intros being before the child fell. Relationships: Sans and Toriel is the main focus, with a little bit of Undyne and Alphys Rating: I’m thinking Teen? Heads up: There are some depressed thoughts, feelings of worthlessness/wanting to die, mention of major character death, and the occasional bad word. Oh, and flowey being flowey, so you know, psychological/physical trauma. I really don’t want to say much more since I really don’t want to spoil anything further down the road…

You can read it on AO3! Here is Ch 13 Ch 12 Ch 11 Ch 10 Ch 9 Ch 8 Ch 7 Ch 6 Ch 5 Ch 4 Ch 3, Ch 2, and Ch 1on Tumblr.

Random thoughts from the writer about this chapter: I’m not dead and I did not abandon this fic. I was just lazy and lacked motivation. I love this fic though, so don’t think I won’t finish it. I might take 20 years, but it will be written.

It had been another dull day in the Ruins. The most exciting thing that happened was her finds while bug hunting. She caught a fairly large snail and a few unique bugs that she eventually released after looking them up. One was one of the smallest beetles she had seen, but it had the shiniest golden shell of all she had ever caught. It was mesmerizing, really, and she couldn’t help but hang onto it for a while to marvel at it as it crawled over her paw pads.

Because the day had been dull, she tried thinking up new and good funny puns and jokes to share with her friend since she wouldn’t have anything new to discuss. And while her friend did seem to enjoy hearing about her days in the Ruins, it didn’t seem fair to bore him with such meaningless drabble as what bugs she caught day after day. As kind as he was, even he must have limits on how much of this nonsense he could take.

When the time came she walked down the hall, hoping to hear her dear friend really let loose with his laughter. It had been a while since she had heard a good laugh from him. It wasn’t like when they first met anymore. She feared he was getting tired of this but was too kind to tell her so. The last few days his laughs had started sounding a bit…. forced.. It can’t be fun or pleasant for him, sitting out there in that cold snow every day just to entertain some silly old woman, such as herself. And yet he made the trips, sat out there, made her laugh, listened to her stories, and stayed for hours for her benefit.

Back when he laughed hardily, she knew he was enjoying himself, but ever since his laughs started weakening… well, it just seemed like he no longer found a reason to come out here. And she couldn’t blame him. He always sounded so tired, too. She knew he had several jobs and yet, she doesn’t insist on him taking a break. Instead, she eagerly awaited him and encouraged him to ignore his own needs. All of this must be putting too much stress on him, especially since she made this an everyday thing. Maybe she should ask him to come out every other day instead? That would give him a day to rest and a day without having to listen to her prattle on about nothing. When she gave him the option before, he had insisted that meeting every day was fine. But she really doubted that now, and was sure she would have to set the schedule. Her dear friend was just too kind to say ‘no’ to her.

Well, as she thought about it, even every other day sounded like too much. She can’t just base her happiness on him. She needs to pull herself together and let him make the schedule. He will know what is best for himself, even if it means they part ways. She will just need to be insistent that he needs to step up in scheduling their meetings in a way that doesn’t make things hard on himself. And, if he were to say he was done, well, at least, for this short time knowing him, she had some laughs and fun times.

That decided, she knocked on the door twice to see if he was there, “Knock, knock!”

“who’s there?”

His voice tore at her soul. It was so heavy with tiredness and sadness that he didn’t sound like the monster she first met. Was this because of her? It seemed hard to believe that she had caused him sadness as well, but perhaps this was getting in the way of other plans? Rationale told her it was something else. This had been a growing problem with him. He hadn’t said that anything was upsetting him in his life but she could hear it in his voice. There was no mention of anything other than work wearing him out. He might not be the most open and talkative about himself, but he did share some things that clearly mattered to him. But this, whatever was causing this, he didn’t share.

Paranoia made her worry that it was her. She wondered if that was why he kept it all a secret. Because she was the source of this sorrow. But, why? Had she done or said something that would hurt him so much?

“Friend,” she started, and he began to reply thinking it was part of the traditional joke, but it wasn’t. Instead, she continued, “What is wrong? Have I done something to offend you? Is this taking too much time out of your day? Truly, you have done so much for me already, you do not need to keep this up if it is a burden for you.”

“lady?” he sounded confused then she heard him shift, his voice getting closer to the doors, “no, lady, it’s… it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” She felt tears forming in her eyes as she placed a hand where she hoped his hand might be. Her nails scratched the door as it tried in vain to grab his hand.

Just open the door, you coward…

She couldn’t… for the safety of any other human that fell… and for her people, she couldn’t open this door unless it was an emergency.

“Day by day you are becoming less and less like the monster who first made me laugh so hard. While you are bringing me joy, I fear you are only receiving misery.”

He was silent and she closed her eyes, resting her head against the door, waiting. If he needed a moment to answer then she will give him the time he needed to think over what he wanted to say. After all, he had been too kind of a monster to her. It would not be easy for him to say she was boring and that he didn’t want to visit her anymore. So, she will let him better formulate an answer for her to tell her what she already knew.

But as time ticked by, and the silence grew, she decided to add softly, “We may not know what each other looks like, or actual names… but I still consider you my friend.”

“you’re my friend, too, lady… meeting you here is one of the main reasons i’m able to get out of bed in the morning. sorry, i don’t mean to worry you, but… no matter how i sound, i want to make sure you know doing this, being here… it makes me really happy,” he replied, and she heard a “thunk” as he likely placed his head against the door. “lately... a lot has been happening that is hard to explain and it’s, well, making things difficult. and... it was really… really hard... today. so, uh… heh,” he sounded on the verge of tears.

“Oh, Dishes, I’m sorry,” she replied. Her claws continued to scratch the door as her hand started to ball up with frustration. Again, she wanted to open these doors and comfort him, but…

“don’t worry about it… i’m sure it will work itself out eventually,” he said, but he didn’t sound any more convinced than she was.

“You are truly my friend, Dishes, and I want you to do what is best for you. So, if you need the day to yourself,” Toriel started but her friend cut her off there.

“that’s not really going to help, old lady… being by myself lets my mind cause some… skulduggery,” he said with a soft, chuckle.

The pun earned a soft giggle from her but she still couldn’t help but feel sad by that information. Her poor friend…, “In that case, I will keep you company then.” She tried to push away her saddened thoughts to feel happier for him. “Shall we tell some jokes,” She asked, hoping to cheer him up.

“alright, after that, how about telling me about your day? had to be better than mine,” he inquired.

“Oh, well… I really just went bug hunting and nothing much else,” she apologized.

“that sounds interesting,” he truly did sound interested in hearing about that. Whether he actually was or wasn’t, she didn’t know. But at that moment, he made it sound like it was the best thing he heard all day...

It was nice to just be back in their room at the castle, but not quite like how it felt being in her home in the Ruins again. Toriel was sure Sans also just wanted to return to the Ruins and let it just be them again. She would be lying if she said the thought didn’t cross her mind, and still lingered there. But, as it was, and with everything known, a sense of duty kept her here. There was still a bitterness in her that made her want to neglect this duty. It was the monsters that called for the death of all humans then forced her off the throne after she came back.

Did she really owe them anything? Did she really need to sacrifice her happiness for these monsters who turned on her so easily? She wasn’t their queen, she wasn’t in the guard, nor was she in any position that made her obligated to care about their welfare. And yet, here she was caring about them. She couldn’t just abandon them to a potentially dark fate. At least, not again. This was different than them seeking the blood of innocent children. This was them needing help from a potential threat that even she knew nothing about. A being that could remove her happiness even if she did try to hide. While Sans seemed more willing to accept his fate, she was not. Just as she rebelled against Asgore to try to rescue the humans, she will push her love to protect the peace they had instead of just letting what may happen, happen. So, as much as she wished to return to the Ruins, she couldn’t turn her back on them now.

Besides, it’s not like their time together was limited. That thought was silly. There was supposed to be no more of these “resets” that had plagued Sans and, unknowingly, her and everyone else in the underground. And that also meant they had plenty of time to share.

Well… not completely.

While she was a boss monster, sentenced to continue to live on and never age, Sans wasn’t. Over time he will grow old and die… That thought caused a shiver to travel up her spine. She didn’t like the idea of watching her dear friend and loved one slowly fade in front of her, but she loved him too much to not want him around. That is the sad trial that now was her life, one she will have to accept. She will watch the ones she knows and love wither and die while she will live on, ageless.

Chara’s body seemed to wilt to the illness they had had that resulted in such a horrible and painful death. Asriel, bloodied and broken, stumbling into the throne room and collapsing on the floor only to then dust in her and Asgore’s hands. Then there was Asgore himself, he changed before her own eyes from the monster she loved to… a creature filled with hate and anger. By what she was told by Sans he didn’t stay that way, reverting to his more meeker nature, if not more so.

Looking over at her dear one, she saw he was clearly exhausted and she scooped him up without a complaint. There was that tired, husky chuckle of his that only encouraged her to cuddle him close. She nuzzled his cheekbone and he started to laugh in reply while leaning into her touch. His boney hand reached up, petting the soft fur just behind her ear, and she hummed contently. Her dear, sweet skeleton, all dressed up as a cat, half curled in her arms in an adorable manner, was too much for her to let go. Placing him in bed and going about her own business will not do. So, she moved over to a chair to sit down. She felt well overdressed in this beautiful gown at the moment, but that didn’t matter. It was nice being the white queen with her Cheshire Cat for the moment. She hoped he felt the same as he cuddled close to her.

Soft snores signaled to her that he had fallen asleep and she was happy. Closing her eyes, she held him and thought about all she had learned, all they had been through, and all they will need to go through. If only things could be easy for them for the remainder of their days. But there were still matters left unsolved, things that still needed to be dealt with. There were obstacles that would interfere with their peace. Also, the mental and emotional wounds that were best solved out here before retiring away in peace. Once these matters have been resolved, and once they had true peace, she really saw no reason as to why they couldn’t just retire away to the Ruins once again.

Maybe she had grown used to her self imposed isolation; that being out here, among other monsters, was far more tiring than she remembered. She once was queen and did many things with her people. She didn’t really enjoy crowds then, but she still thrived in them and never avoided them. But now, she would far rather be alone with a good book and those she loves than be among a crowd. She had forgotten what it was like dealing with her people, and now… they weren’t even her people.

Their ruler is Undyne. Yet, even if she was not currently in charge of their well being, there was still a sense of responsibility because she once was. Even if they weren’t her people, they still felt like they were. Although she had turned her back on them, feeling betrayed that they chose to kill humans along with Asgore, humans much like her own Chara, she still didn’t hate them. And while they despised her declaration that monsters should no longer be at war with humans but instead ally with them once more and then sought to overthrow her… she still wanted what was best for them. She was angry with them, as angry as she was with Asgore, but she did not wish harm upon them, just as she wished harm hadn’t befallen her ex-husband.

And perhaps Sans helped with that. She had closed herself off from everyone, even emotionally from the innocent monsters in the Ruins. They knew little of the world beyond the doors; yet, she treated them as if they were as guilty as the ones she heard calling for the death of all humans. But Sans… knocked on the door she used as a physical reminder to close herself off. He invited her to open herself up again, which she accepted. He then made and kept a promise she thought she would never be able to get another monster to accept. He showed her that there was still something to be hopeful for, even though he clearly had little hope himself.

Her dear, dear sweet Sans. She highly doubted he knew how much of an influence on her he had been, and for once she wondered if the same could be said the other way around. Was it possible that she has been an influence on his life and she simply didn’t see it? He had said that before, that she had already repaid him for anything he possibly could have done for her. Sans even expressed that he owed her. Perhaps they were both right, they both have been a great force of good in each other's life.

Yes, it did seem that way, and she was finally now just seeing that. They had helped each other, made each other stronger and better monsters. Neither are in debt, neither owe each other, but both want nothing more than to pay the other back for what they did.

At this realization, she giggled softly before nuzzling her beloved skeleton on the top of his skull. They really were a silly pair of monsters.

…

Oh…

Oh dear…

In her haste to sit down with him, she forgot to grab a book or anything to occupy herself as he slept. With a sigh, she sat there in thought. She could get back up. If there was one thing she knew about her skeleton, he didn’t wake up easily. Though she was comfortable, and getting up just wasn’t something she wanted to do. She was just so content the way she was, even if it meant she was sitting there with nothing to do other than hug her dear skeleton. He was cuddled close, his slow breathing calming her troubled heart and thoughts.

How badly she needed this before. All those nights in the ruins when she couldn’t sleep would have been easily rectified had they only reached this point in their relationship sooner. Toriel closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his skull with a content sigh. How dearly she loved him. She hoped he felt that from her soul. A small green bullet of magic, in the shape of a soul, floated from her to him and she felt her face flush with embarrassment. Normally she was far better at controlling her magic, but at the moment she might as well be a lovesick child again.

To think she would again be like this. Some would think she should feel shame for it, but she really just giggled. It was a pleasant feeling, one she missed. As their relationship matures, they will advance past this, but she will enjoy this for now. She felt everything around her start to fade away as her own tiredness started to catch up with her. Tomorrow morning they were to meet up with Alphys to have a pleasant picnic. For now, though, they can rest. As she drifted to sleep, that is exactly what they did. It just felt like such a beautiful moment, that Toriel clung as long as she could to the edges of wakefulness, to savor this. Their breathing matched, his weight pressed against her, and her arms enveloped him. Soon, she couldn’t fight it any longer, as his soft snores guided her to sleep.

She wasn't sure how long she had slept before a loud knock woke her up. Toriel felt herself jump and Sans shifted on her lap, muttering something that, if she thought about it, sounded like a plea for a few more minutes. This made her laugh softly and she nuzzled her poor dear, enamored about this adorable behavior. Still, the knocking repeated itself and Toriel knew she was going to need to answer. It was obvious that the sleeping skeleton on her lap was not about to get the door. She lifted Sans from her lap and set him in the chair, though she could feel him move again in her arms, hinting that he was really awake. He just fought against wakefulness which took over in the hopes of going back to sleep.

Toriel walked over to the door and opened it to find... well, a monster she had never seen before. "Hello?" She asked before the odd rectangular monster wheeled past her.

"Hello, darling! I hope you don't mind me interrupting your evening but I just heard you were in New Home. I must have you come by my station for an interview. I'm sorry we didn't meet during your time as Queen," He said in a strange, static tinged voice.

"Oh, well, I suppose we could arrange that," Toriel replied, though she was unsure what to think of this monster or what he was saying. She then smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, but who you are?"

"I'm Mettaton," he said as if that was supposed to mean something to Toriel. When that didn't get a reaction he then added, "The biggest star in the Underground?" Toriel's continued confusion didn't seem to make him happy. Though how she knew that with his faceless features, she didn't know.

"heya, ti-83, what brings you here?" Sans asked from the chair, pulling attention off her and on to him. Toriel was thankful for that, to say the least. She seemed to remember Sans saying something about a robot who was famous in the Underground, but she wasn't expecting this to be him. There must be something about him that the other monsters saw that she didn’t.

"Hello, Sans," the robot said and his tone sounded not that happy about this interaction. "I was hoping you would have come by the resort now that you’re back on this side of The Ruin's doors."

"yeah, well, talk to undyne about that. i was a little locked up in her business," Sans replied. "anyway, i'm free now, what's up?"

"Well, you know your 'show' was popular, for reasons I'll never understand. I want to see what times you would like to book." Mettaton pulled a booklet from some compartment and from the look of it, it was a schedule book.

"huh, i thought you said my show was a waste of time," Sans chuckled then shrugged. "sorry, but i'll pass."

"Look, I know we have our differences, but this is for the people. They miss your stand up and your odd science talks," Mettaton plead but Sans looked away, leaning on the arm of the chair.

"um... yeah, still not feeling like doing it."

"You did stand up?" Toriel asked, surprised by this. "I'm sure you were very good."

"Yes... I suppose you could say that it was good," Mettaton replied. "It was more of a variety show he did. Not even I knew what he was going to do each time... One time he just slept standing up the whole hour."

"heh, good times," Sans chuckled.

"I'll pay you double if you come back," Mettaton bargained. This seemed to catch Sans's attention and the skeleton looked at the robot.

"double, huh? sure, for that much i'll do a show."

Toriel stood back and watched as the two then discussed the when for Sans's show that he will put on. Mettaton tried getting Sans to say what he would be doing, leaning toward a comedy act, but Sans just gave a non-committed shrug. It was clear he didn't know what he wanted to do, and Toriel wasn't sure he really wanted to do this show. Knowing he decided to do it based on the increased pay made her wonder what he wanted the money for as well. They were doing well financially, Toriel had more than enough money for the two of them. And yet, she didn't feel the need to bring that up at the moment. In truth, she felt it would help Sans to do something more than just hide here. Once the two had their business sorted out, Mettaton turned back to her.

"Shall we schedule our interview now?" Mettaton asked. He started jotting down something in his booklet. To her surprise, Sans spoke up before she could.

"i think we'll take a raincheck on scheduling that. i'm sure tori wants to focus more on assisting empress undyne," Sans said, again, leaning on the chair's arm, with his head on his hand, looking disinterested with all of this.

Something about what Sans said, though, interested the robot and he wrote some more. "Oh, you are assisting Undyne, darling?" Mettaton asked while turning back to Toriel. Why had Sans said that? He was also here to help, but the way he said that hinted that it was her responsibility alone.

"Well, yes, we-" She started but Sans got up and walked over.

"we are staying at that castle under undyne's direction so tori can help out with some matters is all. and she needs to focus on that," Sans said, putting an arm around the robot as if they were buddies. He directed the other monster out the door with a kind goodbye though she knew he didn't fully mean it.

There was silence for a moment, Toriel had to admit she was annoyed that Sans had interrupted her and she put her paws on her hips and glared at him. "What was that about?" She asked.

"sorry tori," Sans apologized and shuffled back to the chair. "mettaton was more of a fan of asgore's plan, even if he wanted to be a star among monsters and humans. i guess he just saw asgore being more likely to get him to the surface. do what you want, but i don't suggest going on any show of his for an interview, he'll just make sure the narrative he wants is the one heard."

That troubled Toriel, knowing that some monsters still feel that way about her. It was more than just Undyne who did not like her, and while Toriel never asked to be a loved queen, it still hurt to be so hated. She walked over and scooped up the skeleton to place him back on her lap. He leaned against her, and she could feel contentment from him. "What about telling him I was here to help Undyne?"

"it gives you an excuse to be too busy for him, and it is true... and it was a dig at undyne. one that, even if he supports her, he won't be able to help but spread." Sans chuckled softly before adding, "i made it seem like she needs someone else to help her with the ruling, and, well, who better than you?"

"Sans, that was rather mean to do to Undyne. She," Toriel then sighed and nodded a bit. "I'll admit she deserved it, after all she put us through, but that was still rude to do."

Sans just chuckled and shrugged, "yeah, maybe, but as you said, she deserved it. anyway, she's pretty good at running damage control. and if you decided to show pity on her you can set the story straight yourself. until then, though, let her deal with it."

"I will make sure the true story is heard. I'm not that vindictive. Though, I suppose that can wait until after the picnic tomorrow," Toriel said tapping her chin. It was better than just leaking the truth of what Sans had been through, even if it should be known. It would cause others to have trouble trusting the Empress. This, while rude, won’t be as shocking and it won't be as likely to destroy the faith of monsters in their ruler.

Morning activities were never something he enjoyed, they denied him the ability to sleep in and made him feel tired the rest of the day. Sans wasn’t sure how he got roped into this, but he tagged along with Toriel and Alphys as they found a spot to “stargaze.” This brought back some old memories that felt much older than they truly were, he remembered all the times he took his younger brother out here to look at the crystals and pretend it was the night sky. It was one of the things Papyrus insisted on doing because Sans was interested in stars. Though they did it in the evening and “camped” in Waterfall for the night. Alphys and Toriel somehow came to the decision that morning would work best for them.

Now that he was here, though, Sans remembered the nights he and Papyrus would spend in the field the three currently stood. Though, at that time he was just a child. Sans and his brother would lay in the grass for hours, imagining they were looking at an actual night sky, and the glowing stones above them were real stars. They even made their own constellations and Sans, for the fun of it, charted them. There were many cool and unique ones, along with a few that, as they grew to teenagers and young adults, clearly lacked maturity when named. The earlier ones they made as children had eventually be traded out for far better constellations, far more suited for The Great Papyrus and his brother, astronomer Sans.

Well… the “Butt” constellation with “Fart Gas Cloud,” or F.G.C. for short, were still up there, and still right next to each other. Papyrus had tried making them into something else, but even he admitted, it was a butt. Either that was the extent of their creativity, or that was undoubtedly what it was.

Tori, Alphys, and Sans rested in the grass, looking up at the crystals above. And, upon Tori’s request, Sans began pointing out all those constellations, saving the best for last of course. He heard Tori snort while Alphys rolled her eyes and sighed.

“S-seriously, Sans?” Alphys sighed, “I bet you n-named both of them, didn’t you.”

“actually, i named f.g.c. but paps named butt,” he said with a wink. Relaxing back, Sans sighed, looking back up at those two. He then said, “he named it when he was young… and we couldn’t rename it.”

“Well, it does look like one,” Tori said with a laugh. It was nice to know her humor matched his so nicely. It might seem silly to laugh at a group of glowing crystals that happen to make the shape of someone’s backside, but at least they could laugh together.

“we did argue over the ownership of them. i figured since pap spotted and named it, it should be his. but he didn’t like my fart by his butt,” at the drop of that punchline Toriel burst into a fit of laughter.

Alphys groaned and glared at Sans and Toriel. “I’m h-happy you found someone t-to share your humor with.”

Before Sans could reply, Tori wrapped him up in her arms. Her hug was tight but comfortable, and she nuzzled the side of his skull. Sans cuddled close, enjoying the warmth and softens of the monster he loved beside him. “I am as well,” Tori then said. She looked over at Alphys, who was clearly enjoying every second of this scene. “For the longest time, I thought I would never laugh again. Then… I met Sans. It doesn’t matter to me if our humor is childish to some… we laugh and that’s all that matters”

"heh, and when i heard that first laugh of hers..." Sans sighed wistfully as he thought back on that odd braying sound the had heard through the door that day. That beautiful noise that brought such light to his tired and dark soul. "well, i promised to myself that i would make her laugh again."

Toriel smiled at him and he smiled back at her. It really was a scene that would be thought as overly mushy if viewed by a non-romantic. Sans never thought he was much of a fan of romance until he found Toriel. She had brought forth this want to spend time with her, cuddle with her, court her. And with that came the romantic desires that he never once knew he had inside of him.

He then settled beside her as he listened to Alphys and Toriel as they point out more possible constellations in the crystal ceiling above them. It was fun seeing what their imagination would find among all those tiny lights above them. A few made him chuckle but, for the most part, they were either sweet or anime related. Toriel pointed out the brightest crystal and suggested it be named after Papyrus. Sans did say it should be fully called "The Great Papyrus" to which both Toriel and Alphys agreed with him. Sans then smiled and looked up at the crystal named after his brother. It was now his favorite one up there, and he hoped his brother was happy with the honor of having that crystal named after him.

As he watched the crystal he felt himself slowly drift off to sleep. Well, Tori and Al were doing well enough so he saw no reason why he should force himself to stay awake so he let himself rest. It was pleasant here, in the dark of Waterfall, cuddled close to the monster he loved so dearly, and under the light of The Great Papyrus. If Sans could fall asleep like this every night, or morning, he would be more than happy. He only fought to stay awake a while longer so he could soak in this moment as long as possible before falling asleep.

He should have stayed awake a bit longer, as he woke up with a start when he was assaulted by Tori and Al tickling him awake. Sans rolled around trying to get away only for nothing to work. No matter how hard he tried protesting the fairness of this attack it didn't work. It wasn't until he was out of breath, which was an odd feeling for someone who didn't need to breathe, did Tori pull him up onto her lap and hug him tightly. "Oh, my dear, I couldn't help myself," she giggled and nuzzled him.

"Y-you were snoring over our t-talking," Alphys said, arms folded as if annoyed, but she grinned away.

"eh, sounds like a reasonable reaction, then," Sans chuckled and nestled the back of his head under Tori's chin.

"By the way, S-sans, I'm surprised to see you are w-wearing that hoodie again. Did you like it?" Alphys asked, looking over Sans in the Cheshire cat hoodie she had made just for him to wear.

"More like his needed to be washed and I liked it," Tori said for him and he chuckled and shrugged his agreement.

Alphys giggled at what Tori said and Sans knew at some point he was going to have to get even with his science buddy. She had seen and been able to laugh and tease at a few too many things at his expense to just let it go. Or, he could just let it go... That would be the easier thing to do, really. Besides, in the long run, they are friends, and even though they had prank wars in the past, he just wasn’t feeling that up to it anymore.

“as tori said, mine just needed to be washed, but i’ll admit, al, you do make a cozy hoodie,” Sans replied with a shrug.

Tori and Al started to set up for lunch now that it was close enough to “brunch time” to qualify for a picnic lunch. Sans sat back and watched, intent on having a slice of pie over any of the other foods they set out. A sound caught his attention though, and he turned his head to look and spotted Undyne heading their way. He still had no desire for Undyne to see him dressed as a cat. With that, Sans saw it was time to see himself out. He knew a few good spots around here he could watch them and remain hidden. Perhaps it was silly to care about Undyne seeing him dressed as a cat, but after how she treated him, he just didn’t feel the need to show her any more weaknesses.

He grabbed a slice of pie then stood and saluted Tori and Al with his free hand. “welp, i’ll be around. i’ll see you but you won't see me. have fun.” And with that, he took a step while he used a shortcut to move to a ledge where he could watch everything going on and stay unnoticed.

Tori looked perturbed, but he did warn her earlier. He took a bite of the pie as he watched Undyne walk up to Tori and Al. She started talking with them and looked around as if looking for him. He wasn’t surprised since Sans was not about to leave far from Tori and he was sure Undyne knew that. Alphys gestured to the area around her then Undyne laughed. He figured that was about him, but still, he'd rather be considered a coward than let her see him like this. Besides, he already knew she thought of him as a coward so it was no big deal. Keeping the reputation of a coward is better than adding cute.

“Golly,” A voice said from just behind him. He didn’t need to turn and look to know who it was. After nightmares as severe as the ones he has had, the voice had been ingrained in his skull. “You sure did skedaddle out of there fast,” It said, mockingly.

“heya, haven’t heard from you for quite a while,” He turned and looked at the flower, looking down at the anomaly formed by misguided DT experimentation.

End notes: thanks again to @obsessedkatie for beta reading. Hope you all enjoyed!

#undertale #fanfiction #the door #soriel #sans #toriel #myfic #alphys #mettaton #Well #um #normally this is where I ramble on about stuff #but got nothing #so...#enjoy

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aftgficlibrary · 6 years ago

Text

Mutual Pining Masterlist

Andreil

a chance to start again by eikoexe (M | Incomplete | 10/?)

Andrew Minyard was a consulting detective - probably one of the best. He lived a life alone and only kept well to his demands, solving more crimes than nobody could think possible. Wymack usually said he was stuck up on the job, Renee had been suggesting he finds himself someone to live with, just so he wouldn’t live a life full of solitude. Andrew said he didn’t need it, didn’t want it, that he was perfectly fine the way he was. But what if one day he met a boy who stubbornly tripped into his life? Who had been wanted by his father for running away? Who needed a place to stay… and who needed a home?

And so Andrew’s life changed when he met Neil Josten.

–

Or alternatively, a Sherlock AU where instead of Johnlock solving crimes, we get our Andreil boys.

Something, Nothing & Everything by TheBashfulPoet (E | 139,900 | 28/28)

Neil Josten is yet another name in a long list of identities used to hide a boy long since dead from a past blood had been spilled to forget. Essentially, he is and always will be nothing. And yet there has always been one thing that made Neil Josten real: music. After his mother’s death, music and singing were the only things tying him the threads of reality by the strap of a well-worn guitar. Too bad he’s pretty sure that it’s also going to be the thing to kill him. Especially when Kevin Day, international rock star and blast of Neil’s past comes waltzing back into his life demanding he joins the upstart and infamous band EXY as its new vocalist. To make matters worse, Kevin’s unofficial shadow, Andrew Minyard with a rap sheet taller than he is has taken an interest in the lie that Neil Josten and has made it his mission to uncover the bloodied truth that lies beneath.

By all accounts, Neil should just pick up his guitar and disappear like he’s done so many times before, but the chance to be real and seen is almost enough for him to plant his feet for the first time in 11 years he’s been running. Going into the spotlight means certain death, but Neil’s just not so sure that leaving it would mean anything different.

stars may collide by broship_addict, llheji (M | 20,664 | 2/2)

Moonlighting as Abram, member of the city's crime-fighting Foxes, Neil is doing a very bad job at staying under the radar. He's busy enough between his friends, patrol, and bickering with Andrew at work, but with the Ravens gang finally within reach and the reappearance of the Monster, he might have bitten more than he can chew.

(Or, how both Neil and Andrew accidentally fall in love with the same person twice. Lame.)

You Made a Monster Out of Me by basicallymonsters (M | Incomplete | 3/?)

He realizes that everyone feels exactly the same way he does, filthy and buzzed and understood and angry. His eyes find Andrew again, sober but animated like the drums are a live wire and he’s electric.

He thinks, if he could be part of this, if he could stand in the middle of the stage in a garden full of monsters, and sing the audience’s veins open, he would never need another drink, or another moment on court.

Prompt: Andreil in a rock band setting – tattoos, harsh lighting, calloused fingers, Andrew’s sweaty arms, Neil’s striking blue eyes, someone’s excellent voice, an uncomfortable undercurrent of drug abuse.

don’t take that sinner from me by wesninskids (M | Incomplete | 2/?)

In Bono, Alabama, a southern town where nobody ever goes, Neil Josten is a blind boy who used to read and write stories. Now he tells them aloud for his friend to write down, but things are quick to turn bland where there’s no color to see. He finds comfort in religion, thinking God can give him his eyes.

Then Andrew Minyard arrives in town in a dusty Impala and a crumpled suit, claiming he’s there to help Renee Walker take care of the church after the local priest’s death. Everyone soon starts wondering what his motives are and why he’d exile himself to a dead-end like theirs, mistrusting every word—but they’re after the wrong threat. Disillusioned and disappointed by religion, this lonely man of God came for a greater mission than preaching and blessing. He’s after something, and he might have just found it.

The blind boy of the town will either be his salvation or damnation, and he’s not sure which one yet.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence /Underage

doe & josten: deductionists by spanglebangle (M | Incomplete | 25/?)

Andrew Doe, rude but brilliant consulting detective, thought he had no need of a partner as he worked slowly away at dismantling the largest crime family in the country, helping out with other cases on the side to relieve the tedium. That was, until a scruffy runaway with a stupid amount of secrets stumbled into his life. Or, more accurately, broke into his kitchen.

/Rape/Non-Con / Graphic Depictions of Violence

roses are orange, and some also blue by apprenticedmagician (T | 1,295 | 1/1)

Dear Valentine, They aren’t poisonous. I checked. From - your pipe dream

wanting what you think you cannot have by orphan_account (T | Incomplete | 1/?)

this was a fic written for the aftgexchange on tumblr, but i decided to continue it as a multi-chapter fic on ao3! this is a fake dating au with no seth, riko/the moryamas, and drake so it’s the softest thing you’ll ever read

neil is a runaway, andrew works at a bakery, and nicky is really, really nosy. being someone’s fake boyfriend is a lot harder than it looks, especially when you’re hardcore crushing on them

double scoop by broship_addict (T | 3,733 | 1/1)

Neil serves ice cream and Andrew might be addicted. There’s a lot of blushing.

Series: Part 1 of share a pint, share a kiss

only fools by kazbrekker_morelike_kazwrecker (E | 19,833 | 20/20)

A flower shop/coffee shop AU that no one asked for but appeared in my brain and had to get out. Neil never played Exy and never met the Foxes at PSU, but his story with his father remains the same. Neil doesn’t like people much but neither does Andrew and everyone knows coffee brings people together

the foxtrot’s not for the faint of heart by kazbrekker_morelike_kazwrecker, smolmoll04 (M | Incomplete | 3/?)

The Foxes are a dance group working their way up from being mostly underground and found their new studio and Wymack as their producer. The Moriyamas are a powerful human trafficking syndicate and instead of Exy, they deal in dance competitions. Neil’s father wanted to sell him to the syndicate but his mother was like NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH and ran with him.

Neil has found the Foxes and a familiar face… He also gets to meet a certain sarcastic five foot tall blond and things ensue…

trust fall by emeryuu (E | 9,948 | 1/1)

Neil is a florist who loves his job but isn’t going to refuse a second job if he can make good money from it. Even if the said job is bartending at a club. Even if that club is a BDSM club.

Andrew is a tattoo artist working at the studio next to neil’s flower shop. He’s a regular at Eden’s Twilight where he always can find a sub willing to do a scene with him.

One night they meet at the club and that’s a beginning of a new journey for both of them. What starts as simple deal to let Neil explore parts of life he hadn’t chance to explore, slowly becomes something much bigger.

Series: Part 1 of games

hazel and gold by obsessedwithfictionalboys (T | Incomplete | 4/?)

AU in which Andrew doesn’t hate everything and Neil does not know how to deal with this beautiful nerd.

Allison/Renee (renison)

we all need sweets every now and then by downintheflames (M | Incomplete | 1/?)

A storm rumbled towards the team as they ran laps on the lacrosse field. Wymack had proclaimed they needed to breathe real air to get all their bullshit out of their system. Allison had complained about the humidity ruining her hair before she stopped to watch the clouds trip over themselves in the sky. Renee liked to think that in another life, Allison would have been a storm chaser. She was staring at the sky in awe while Renee stared at her. Andrew cleared his throat loudly. Neil nudged him softly then silently assured her that she should continue on - that the vulnerability was a good thing. Nicky rambled on to no one in particular about how one time when he was in Germany with Eric… Kevin slid his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the clouds so he could look up exactly what kind they were when they returned to the dorms. Aaron grumbled about how stupid running laps outdoors was. Dan barked at them to get a move on - that they wouldn’t stop unless there was lightning. Matt immediately picked up his pace with Allison following behind him. Renee shook herself out of her thoughts. Allison was her best friend and nothing more. Andrew needed to stop acting like her saying that was such a joke.

too late. by icebreeze (T | 1,555 | 1/1)

Life never goes to plan. Love is no exception to this.

you, just you by zucheenee (M | 17,651 | 1/1)

Allison grabbed another slice of pizza, leaning back in her chair. Renee worried, not for the first time, that she’d fall and give herself a concussion. Allison sighed and flicked a lock of long blonde hair behind her shoulder, suddenly looking up and meeting Renee’s eyes. “Boys are just so stupid, right?” She said, smiling prettily at Renee. Allison always smiled prettily, and Renee wanted to die.

“Right.”

In which Allison can’t seem to find the right man, and Renee wishes Allison would get a clue.

lonely ♡s club by modernpatroclus (T | 1,719 | 1/1)

“Next time you need an outlet, come to me. I’ll take you shopping, not beat the shit out of you.”

“Andrew doesn’t usually beat me. I was distracted this morning.”

Renee realizes she’s tired of being set up with gay boys. Allison realizes that she’s ready to move on from Seth when she sees Renee after her latest sparring session with Andrew.

Jean/Jeremy (Jerejean)

playing on by flybbfly (M | 142,179 | 31/31)

"Who knew California Golden Boy Jeremy Knox could play dirty?”

Jeremy grins. “Best kept secret on the west coast. Told you there was a western division striker who could dispossess you.”

“On a practice court, maybe," Jean says. "Try to get it away from me during a game.”

Jeremy leans back, bracing himself on gloved hands. “Luckily, I won't ever have to.”

In which Jean Moreau and Jeremy Knox play exy, share a dorm room, and accidentally insult each another a lot.

between hoping and believing by cryptidkidprem (T | 47,332 | 7/7)

Jean convinced himself a long time ago that he doesn't have a soulmate. Or maybe he just wants to believe that. Things would be easier if he was destined to be alone. It will at least hurt less when he inevitably winds up that way anyway.

And then there's Jeremy, who's been dreaming of meeting his match for years. For some reason, Jeremy seems determined to convince Jean that sometimes he might actually be able to have the things he hopes for, and that soulmate or no, Jean Moreau has people who will stick with him.

Two Bros Five Feet Apart by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) (M | 27,220 | 9/9)

Jeremy sniffed as he looked at his computer screen and the email he had just opened up. Every colourful picture and excited blurb just another stab to his tattered heart. And there at the bottom, the biggest blow of all, “non-refundable.”

He sighed and slammed his laptop shut, not caring that his rough treatment could damage it. Right now, he wanted to damage something. A significant portion of his savings had gone into these tickets and now he had nothing to show for it, no girlfriend, no awesome vacation, and absolutely zero chill.

Jeremy's girlfriend dumps him on the eve of a romantic vacation. Jean fills in.

dreams of being golden by poetatertot (M | Incomplete | 6/8)

The ocean is a healer. This Jeremy knows better than anyone. It’s why he came back himself, when all turned to nothing; it’s why he took the others under his roof when the shadows at their back threatened to swallow them whole. It’s why he lets Jean in when he shows up suddenly, his pale face a soft light in the darkness. Jeremy sees him and knows he can’t subsist as he is, alone.

The ocean can’t change Jean’s past, but maybe it can wash his future into smooth, clean sand the way it did for so many others.

Stupid (for you) by justdk (T | 1,647 | 1/1)

He’s not the only who cares for Jean, the entire team has his back, wants to see him get better. But Jeremy’s the only one who is completely, helplessly in love with Jean Moreau and it hurts.

Face to the Sun by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) (G | 1,272 | 1/1)

Jeremy and Jean have been pining for each other for too long. The Trojans plan an intervention.

Series: Part 3 of All for the Game Tumblr Prompts

Shield for a Heart by neilskey (spellitwithyourpeas) (M | 54,949 | 16/16)

“It’s your choice, but you’re rotting away in here, Jean and no matter what she says, you can’t live in Abby’s spare bedroom forever. Time to start fighting again.”

Kevin’s hard and commanding tone was no surprise. The softness had been beaten out of him around the same time as Jean.

“What if I don’t want to anymore?”

Maybe it was because he had been half hidden in shadows-Jean had kept the shades drawn, but light still seeped in the cracks- but Jean thought he had seen something akin to understanding paint Kevin’s cool expression. “He’s gone. You survived. Play or don’t, it’s up to you, but you need to get out of this fucking house.” // Jean's first year at USC. Jeremy falls hard, Jean comes around eventually.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

eyes wide open by jaylocked (T | 13,496 | 2/2)

Jean blinked. Blinked again. Was sure he didn’t recognize the man on his doorstep, with his bright eyes and enormous grin and wavy blonde hair. Waited for him to explain himself with a simple raised eyebrow.

“Hi!” the man finally chirped. The sound was happiness channeled into a single word, and Jean wasn’t sure how he didn’t hate him already.

(based on the prompt from tumblr: "hi sorry I live below you and I hear your dog running around and barking all the time and– no no it's fine I was just wondering if I could pet it?" au)

Kevin/Jeremy

lit me up by thisisallmarvelsfault (M | Incomplete | 2/3)

When Jeremy goes to South Carolina to pick up Jean, he and Kevin go to the court with a bottle of vodka and Kevin brings up Nicky’s “list.”

[Or, the life and times of Kevin and Jeremy.]

Neil/Riko

burn, baby, burn by wesninskids (M | Incomplete | 3/?)

Nathaniel Wesninski is Riko’s precious #2, his best backliner, weapon of choice, and only mercenary—the first piece of his Perfect Court: in exchange of everything, thirteen year old Nathaniel gets his number tattooed on his cheekbone and becomes Riko’s partner for better or for worse. Soon Kevin Day and Jean Moreau join the envied line of Ravens and become partners in their turn, and the four of them chase after glory and find the missing pieces of their Perfect Court one player after the other, drunk on power and victory, caring for one another no matter what.

But then Nathaniel strikes a deal with Lola Malcolm to protect himself, and it’s all downhill from here.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

#masterlist #masterlistmonday #mutualpining #pining #andreil #renison #jerejean #kevin/jeremy #neil/riko #rikopair #violence #oneshot #complete #wip #fluff #angst #everything

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kryptsune · 6 years ago

Note

Mind tellin' me about your fanfics Darlin'? I love to read what other people have!

🌼Sure, can do! So I have 1 fic and 2 original novels. One is currently in progress while the other two are on the back burner. The one I am working on now is Welcome to the Underworld which is what this blog is actually for. It is a three-part story in which I go through and write out my canonical version of Underfell. As you can see I tend to post a lot of this kind of artwork and I swear I am working on this one the ink work is killing me. The first part of the story is establishing my version of the Underground which the inhabitants call the Underworld instead through a pacifist run. It very much follows the game to a point. I would say that Snowdin is diverging from its set path and that will be the norm from now on. Each chapter is divided into what I label as Entries with each Log being each location. As an example, we are currently in Log2= Snowdin Entry 13. This is actually chapter 25 in the long run but I have this system for a very specific reason that people are unaware of (Unless you are on my Discord in which case you are part of my inner circle when it comes to that.) After the run, there are two other parts to this story. The second being a story about the surface and the third well. As much as I want to say what it is I am unable to do so.

In between Part 1 and Part 2 of this story I am going to be inserting a mini fic that is going to be purely fun but also canon. It is going to be a Wonderland crossover with WTU. As you can already tell I have been hard at work with those designs and I am super excited for it. I am debating if I want to make it just a mini fic or if I want to make it into a comic. As of right now, it is on the table as a fic but it will happen I can promise that. The other thing I am working on the side is the RISK archive. It is where I am placing and editing all my Red X Frisk works and plots into one massive archive. I have a lot of these as I RP with my friends a lot and some great material comes out of those collaborations. I never planned on doing this but it would appear people are excited for them so I am going to begin to go down the list and compile them on AO3 at some point.

The second is a semi Undertale inspired story called Bloodswap. Essentially it is a world where monsters have coexisted with humans forever so even though there is prejudice it is not like in Undertale. Souls are different as they all hold magic and are brightly colored even monster souls further linking them to humanity. The humans become scared of the monsters and a specific group begins to take shape that wants to get rid of them once and for all. They create a curse that would cause the monsters to go feral and wild very similar to the idea of night howlers in Zootopia now that I think about it. They want humans to begin to be afraid that it's a curse/disease that makes them all go bloodthirsty. In this world, the physical is also tied to the ethereal so the power of one's soul runs through the blood. The infliction basically becomes vampirism only the humans that made it thought it would only affect monsters, HAHA whoops. So there is both human and monster vampirism with some nasty effects. The story follows two skeletal monster brothers sworn to be guardians only to become infected themselves. One continues to fight, his name is Russel and the other gives in to his dark side which would be Cas he also garners the name Crimson or the Crimson Lord. I thought it was an interesting concept to have skeletal or just monster vampires in general. I don’t think I have seen that before. They both feed on magic but one is more physical (human) and the other more soul-based (monster). They are interchangeable for monsters though and their victims begin to lose the colors in their souls draining them almost to death causing them to turn white. Their eyes also begin to fade in color since the eyes are the window into the soul.

(Above is an example of one of my Infernum character designs. This is the fox Lost Boy from Peter Pan)

Last but not least my extensive novel. It is called Infernum and I have been working on it for a very VERY long time. The best way I can describe it is when Once Upon a time meets American Magee and Supernatural. Those are the basics. I always pose the question how to creatives have similar ideas and thoughts sometimes well this explains why. The world in which the story takes place is supposed to a neutral ground for both the likes of Heaven and Hell. It is limbo essentially. It is a place where souls go that were neither bound for Heaven or condemned to Hell. When I was a kid a really wanted to know what was behind the other doors in Alice in Wonderland well Infernum explains that and more. It has everything from fairytales, to pantheons, and so on. The main focus for the first part is basically the dimension of Wonderland which is the core of this paradise/ limbo. The souls there do not remember their past lives and become the characters we know and love. The ones that inspire us. Now the thing is that living humans can also access these dimensions but it is either through sleep or some unfortunate brush with death such as a coma or in the case of my main character, Isabella, are dragged into it. That is just the setup. The story is actually about fixing a curse that has begun to infect these realms making them into a Hell instead of a paradise. Time is not relative in Infernum as while it is during the day there it is nighttime on earth but when it is nighttime in that dimension that is when the horrors begin to awake. The souls of that place begin to twist and become what they fear most from their past life. The very things that kept them from Heaven in the first place. They are also from different cultures and different periods in time. My Cheshire cat character Ace was a WWII bomber pilot. He twists into a soul eater because his job was to be in service of the war and as always there are casualties. It is a story I have been working on since middle school if you can believe that. All the characters become these twisted versions of themselves and I adore the concept. The only thing is that I never post this kind of stuff as people rarely seem interested so I am glad that you took the time to ask ^ ^. My stories mean a lot to me whether they are original or fic based. So yeah :D two original works and 1 fic. I know that is one heck of a response and thank you to everyone that read this far! :D

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noplotnostory · 6 years ago

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Food for Thought

Monster SOULs and Possible Traits: Part Two

This Food for Thought will be covering my personal theories on what monsters might have which primary SOUL traits. This is operating under the assumption that monster SOULs both have distinct primary traits and that they would be the same primary traits that human SOULs have--which I am by no means certain of--and will only cover the few specific monsters I feel fairly confident in my assessment of (SOUL-trait-wise, at least). More facts and theories concerning monster SOULs and their possible traits--including whether or not they even have primary traits the way human SOULs do--can be found in Part One.

Toriel - Integrity

If there’s one thing the entire UnderTale Fandom can agree on, it’s that Sans is a fairly observant individual who tends to know more about what’s going on around him than pretty much anyone else Underground. So when he says that someone “has an integrity you just can’t say ‘no’ to”, it‘s probably fair to consider that a hint. Especially when everything about that "someone"s history and interactions feels very Integrity-based.

I’ve seen people identify Toriel’s primary SOUL trait as Perseverance, Patience or Kindness a few times, but I don’t really think any of those work. Not as her primary trait, at least.

The thing is, Toriel left Asgore because of her personal moral standards. That’s...pretty much Integrity in a nutshell. Now her history after that point and behavior in the Ruins clearly show an aptitude for Perseverance and Patience as well...but if either of those were her primary trait, it seems more likely that she would stay and try to fix Asgore’s mess from inside the capitol.

Like Perseverance and Patience, Toriel’s Kindness is an undeniable facet of her character, one that we even know was actively demonstrated before she left Asgore as well as after. Toriel is a nurturing, protective and loving individual whose pie is the strongest healing item in the entire game (implying an aptitude for green magic, if the creation of magic food follows similar rules to the creation of magic attacks). And she is a brutally practical and efficient woman who was known for making the difficult decisions for her people as Queen (even firing Alphys after leaving the Ruins and hearing what the Royal Scientist had done) and has a tendency to hold grudges against people who she feels have neglected or abused their station. Specifically her ex-husband who she berates not only for killing children, but being too cowardly or soft-hearted to expedite the process for the sake of their people.

That’s...not Kindness. It doesn’t necessarily make her cruel, but it indisputably displays the unwavering convictions that truly defines Integrity above all else.

Undyne - Kindness

Undyne is a Determined and Brave monster with a battle theme titled “Spear of Justice”. All of these are assets that have undoubtedly served her well as the Captain of the Royal Guard. But, above all else, she’s Kind.

First things first, Determination...is not a SOUL trait.

Click the link.

Read the thing.

Got it?

Ok, moving on.

Bravery is a necessity for Undyne’s line of work. As a member of the Royal Guard, Undyne was tasked with maintaining order in the monster kingdom, capturing humans for the use of their SOULs and--presumably--being prepared to wage war against humankind upon the removal of the barrier. When humans fell and caused panic throughout the Underground, it was Undyne’s duty to put her own life on the line to preserve those of civilian monsters.

Yet, in her armorless “faux battle” after allowing the Fallen Human to live and being left to bond with them by an eager Papyrus, she actually has more DEF than in her real, to-the-death (as far as she knew) battle. Now, if DEF stands for DEsire to Fight (I swear, I read that theory somewhere long before starting this blog, but I can’t find a link or fic anywhere and I’d love it if someone could tell me where I saw this from!) then Undyne is more interested in the “faux battle” than the real one. It’s only one DEF point, but other monsters in the game definitely lose those when they decide that they don’t want to fight anymore, and considering the fact that Undyne is bearing the fate of the entire Underground on her shoulders during the actual battle (regardless of if the Fallen Human is Pacifist, Neutral or Genocidal at that point), she has a lot of reason to fight to win. And in a Genocide Route, she is Determined enough to keep fighting after losing all her HP because all of monsterkind is counting on her and she refuses to let them down. But she has more DEF in the “faux battle”. Which means, regardless of how much she wants to win, regardless of how much she wants to keep everyone safe, regardless of how much she wants to eliminate this proficient threat who has murdered her best friend and subordinates, she does not want to fight as much as she does in the “faux battle”. Her heart’s just not in it as much as it would be for a spar between friends. She feels that she needs to protect and avenge, but the key word is “need”. Not “want”.

There’s another moment that probably isn’t the strongest evidence, but I personally feel like it fits, so I’m going to add it anyways: Jumping off the cliff to save Monster Kid lowers Undyne’s HP. If HP stands for HOPE and has to do with a SOUL’s positive emotions as well as it’s ability to sustain damage (I actually do have a link for this one! :D I found this definition in Chapter 7 of somnivagrantTraviatus’s Sweeter than Honey on AO3!), then witnessing the Fallen Human either attack or abandon an actual child dealt a serious emotional blow. Especially since Undyne had admired humans so much after watching anime with Alphys and really had to work hard to convince herself that humans were the depraved and unrepentant enemy of all monsterkind...and that just made it a little easier (Toby Fox has mentioned wanting her armor to be cracked as well, but since intent is such an important part of how monsters take damage, I’m inclined to believe that whatever might have damaged Undyne’s armor would not have impacted her HP the same way).

As for Justice, while a lot of Undyne’s actions as the Captain of the Royal Guard can be interpreted as both Justice and Kindness, whenever she displays a preference for one over the other, Kindness wins. She’s hesitant to kill the human in front of Monster Kid and while explaining the quirks of her magic and how to combat it makes sense for a friendly spar, it’s not a particularly effective way to execute a possibly deadly and time-sensitive threat to the kingdom.

Also, I feel the need to point out that the song “Spear of Justice” does not play in Genocide Route battles. Since the name of the song is a clear homage to her icon--Gerson, the Hammer of Justice--who she claims had fought against humans in the War that led to monsterkind’s imprisonment, one would think that such a tribute would be fitting for a life-or-death battle against a human who had systematically exterminated every monster they’ve come across since falling into the Underground. But apparently Undyne doesn’t. Whatever it was about Gerson and his reputation that inspired Undyne to join the Royal Guard, apparently that’s not what she was thinking about when going toe-to-toe with a genocidal human. It wasn’t about punishment or serving Justice. It was about saving everyone that was left. A community that she has loved and served and known all her life and she was willing to die to protect them.

That’s...actually why my posts regarding her are tagged “Undyne the Unpredictable”. There’s a certain fluidity that comes with Kindness. Much like Asgore is a “big fluffy pushover” who also happens to be impulsive enough to make a very poorly-thought-out proclamation of war in the throes of grief, Undyne is the sort of person to guard you with her life after a cooking session or use her spears to make you a shish kebab for being a possible threat to monsterkind. It all depends on how she perceives the situation and the people involved.

(And no, I’m not saying that Asgore’s primary trait is Kindness. I’m only saying that he is emotionally-driven. I don’t have a confident conclusion on what his primary trait would be.)

Gerson - Justice

The Hammer of Justice.

Yeah.

He’s probably the easiest monster to assign a primary SOUL trait to despite never fighting the Fallen Human in-game, but let’s go ahead and look at some supporting evidence.

A prevalent retired hero to monsterkind, an apparent veteran of the War of Monsters and Humans and one of the major influences in Undyne’s life, Gerson doesn’t seem like the type to be excessively friendly with the species that trapped him and his people under Mt. Ebott. He claims to have distrusted Chara when the first Fallen Human was still alive and being raised by the royal family and was of the opinion that breaking the barrier and returning to the surface would result in the genocide of all monsters after how thoroughly humanity had defeated them.

Yet, he doesn’t appear to have any vendetta against the Fallen Human who explores the Underground in the events of UnderTale in any route other than Genocide. In Neutral and Pacifist Routes, he even shares information on monster iconography, gives tips on where to sell items, warns the Fallen Human that Undyne is looking for them and ends his conversations with a: “Be careful out there, kid!”

In the Genocide Route, Gerson claims that he was never a hero, but still attempts to stall the Fallen Human so that other monsters could evacuate. In a way, he warns the Fallen Human of Undyne in all routes, but in Genocide he is far more vague and acerbic about it, not mentioning her by name and sounding very certain that she would defeat the Fallen Human. He only laughs once in Genocide Route conversations, and the context implies that it’s not exactly a joyful or good-humored one, unlike in other routes.

I suppose other traits could be ascribed to these various instances and facts, but if you put it all together, it creates an image of someone who strives to protect others even in his old age, but makes a point of not mistreating or prejudging people who have not definitively earned his ire, regardless of past experiences with their species. Despite having every reason to be wary of humanity as a whole, he values Justice regardless of species.

#Food for Thought #SOUL Talk #No Multiverse No AUs #Toriel #Undyne #Undyne the Undying #Undyne the Unpredictable #Gerson #The Hammer of Justice #UnderTale #UnderTale Fandom

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atomicjuniper · 7 years ago

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Here’s the fic I wrote for the @aftgexchange for @dysfunctional-college-roommates! One of the summer options was Foxes go to a waterpark and well...I guess I sort of set them in the waterpark I go to with my friends every summer and...I kind of wrote more than I expected to? Anyway it’s 7k now (sorry!) and I had a lot of fun but it’s unbetaed. How did this happen, I ask myself, when I couldn’t think of a title. I’ll probably clean it up and post it to Ao3 one day or something but for now I hope you like it!

Neil felt hot just looking at Andrew. It was eighty-five degrees outside. Pushing higher as the afternoon approached, and they’d just gotten off a bus full of athletes. Also, Andrew allowed Neil to share headphones with him while their arms pressed together the entire trip, so there was a less uncomfortable warmth growing inside of Neil’s chest.

Even so Andrew persisted in his usual dark attire despite the heat. Though Neil was quick to notice that the all-black outfits were one-by-one being replaced with navy blues and lower hues of the color spectrum. He gained more contentment out of that than this waterpark trip they’d somehow all been talked into ever could.

“Thirty dollars each?!” said Kevin, “Coach, you’re aware we could get at least some new equipment with this instead?”

Wymack dragged his gaze from the money in his hands and yet another form to sign to meet Kevin’s. The worker at the booth made a face Neil knows well: the realization of how thin the glass protecting you is.

“Would you rather take the children’s prices instead?” Wymack asked, “Cause knowing our lot it wouldn’t take much to convince them.”

Neil glanced up at the numbers above the worker’s head, wondering if he could get away with saying he was under eighteen, but found that for once the children’s prices at this rinkey-dink waterpark were much higher than the adults. It was a small attraction in the more rural parts of the area. Keeping track of what was out the window on the ride up proved they were surrounded by woods, mountains, and Hooters restaurants for a good mile. Now they were all at the entrance sign, the park’s title reading The Land of Make Believe. It stared at and mocked all of them almost as bad as their opposing fans. Neil wished he could say they were all in, at worst, the middle of nowhere, at best a pocket dimension where this wasn’t actually happening. But he in fact knew the town they were in was actually named Hope.

“What’s his problem? That’s around the same price as an IMAX movie.” Matt whispered to Dan. Dan nodded. She seemed the most prepared for the trip, with a colorful beach bag, sunglasses perched in her hair, and a rolled up towel. Abby was the last to exit the bus with a cooler and her nursing essentials.

“Do we get a sympathy discount if we bring up one of our teammates died?” Nicky whispered to Aaron. His t-shirt read Wild By Nature.

“Don’t know if you mean currently or the near future but I’m so down for either one.” said Aaron. The physical trait separating him from Andrew today was the purple swim trunks from the team’s late-night Wal-Mart run. They had flowers on them, but they were minimalist graphics, so it was acceptable. Andrew on the other hand had dark camo pants on to prove how much he was NOT swimming.

Allison heard the joke they made but merely squeezed her eyes shut in reaction. The strap of her bikini was sticking out through the neck of her top. She already had tan lines this early in the summer.

Neil let out a breath and did his best for the warmth still cradling in his chest to not leave with it. He stared at Andrew’s profile as if to gather extra energy. Andrew was instead staring at the No Smoking sign like a disgruntled ex. At least his actual disgruntled ex served him alcohol.

“Um,” the ticket taker said, looking over Wymack and in the team’s direction, “Your shirt…”

Every Fox looked down. Then they followed the line of sight of the person behind the glass and realized they were referring to Nicky.

“Is it not appropriate?” Nicky asked.

“Um, I’m not really sure.” The poor kid looked nervous. It made Neil thankful he never had to take a summer job. Never had to deal with a streamline of people. “There are children here, but I’m not certain if they would get it. I’d change just to be sure.”

“Oh, well if you insist,” Nicky removed his shirt, being certain to sway his athletic body from side to side as he pulled it over his head. He tossed back his hair and dropped the shirt onto the dirt. “Right what it says on the tin, right?”

Aaron and Andrew knew no one ever assumed their relation to Nicky on first glance, but if there was a way to annul it right then and there they’d take it.

“Is my shirt okay?” asked Matt. His shirt read Human Mermaid.

“Um, I’m pretty sure it is,” said the worker, “It might even be more appropriate.”

They were all given colorful waterproof bands (orange, appropriately) over their wrists. After the money was settled they moved past the sign and into the park. When they were all in front a water gun target game Wymack clapped his hands.

“Well!” Wymack said, “It seems that you maggots have been reprimanded before your very first steps into the park. Your one and only job to your coach is to exceed my expectations, but with you people making the attempt would be miles above what I expect from you to begin with.”

“You can say that again,” said Kevin, eying the rest of the Foxes. His shirt was a white tee with an orange pawprint on the back.

“Don’t act like you’re above them. You’re associated with monsters too, remember?” Wymack sent a pointed look to Nicky and Aaron, the closest “monsters” in proximity to him.

“Aw, don’t look at us like that, Coach!” said Nicky, “Only four of us are monsters! Four-ninths is…dangit why didn’t we bring an electronic calculator to a waterpark!”

Neil, the math major, wondered which one of them wasn’t being factored in as a monster, how much easier this would be if they still had ten players on the team, and drew the conclusion that he didn’t want to be involved.

“I nominate slicing Kevin into a fraction!” cried Allison.

“Hello? Adult authority speaking?” said Wymack, “I nominate that we, as a group effort, venture further than the goddamn Food Lion without involving bodily injury or committing a felony for once?”

“Only ‘or’, Coach?” asked Andrew, “That’s leaving lot of room for error.”

The team tried not to laugh at Andrew’s joke. Neil began to notice Andrew looked and sounded tired. He had the urge to say something or reach out for his hand but it had to wait.

“Aren’t there some guidelines we should be going over, David?” Abby asked.

“Please.” said Wymack, “Guys, it’s hot today. We have a nurse for a reason. Get in the water and try to cool off. If that’s not your thing, just keep hydrated. We have drinks in the cooler if you for whatever reason can’t buy anything. Also, you have our numbers, in case of emergency keep your phones with you at all times. At. All. Times.” Wymack and in fact the whole team was glancing at Neil, for some strange reason. “Is there anything else?” Wymack turned to Abby for confirmation.

“Sunscreen?”

“Alright. Sunscreen. Put it on. Just because the only time half of you ever go outside is during practice doesn’t mean you can soak it all up in one afternoon. Also no running near the pool, no eating a half hour before entering the water, yadda yadda blah blah. What else am I missing?”

Abby looked hesitant to say the next one. “Group assignments?”

None of the Foxes were really speaking before this, only becoming bored with the precautions, but they all perked up at that and it somehow became more hushed.

“Look, we’re assigning groups.” said Wymack, “Before you start groaning you don’t have to follow it to the tee, you can mix and match however you please, but ultimately we don’t want anybody getting separated and ending up on their own. There are nine of you so it’s gonna be groups of three.”

There were yet to be moans from the Foxes. That would wait until which groups were announced. For one thing Neil, judging by what they’ve been through, precautions never hurt. And as much as he wanted to stay with Andrew he would be comfortable with any of the choices as long as it wasn’t Aaron.

“Kevin, Neil, and Andrew. You’re some of the few Andrew won’t kill on sight and overall seem to at least tolerate one another.”’

“Debatable.” said Kevin. He went ignored.

“Matt, Allison, and Renee.” Allison and Renee shrugged. No one seemed to have a problem with that for a moment. Until the thought fell on Dan.

“Wait, so-”

“Dan, Nicky, and the other Minyard.”

“I have a name?” said Aaron.

“Coach…” said Dan.

“Hey, don’t be that way,” said Nicky, “We don’t bite!”

Wymack approached closer to their side of the group. “I don’t want any trouble today,” he said, “In fact, don’t bother me at all unless it’s an absolute emergency. All I want is to not be bothered and sharing a beer with Patchy the fucking Pirate. I’m ready, indeed. Are we good?”

Half the foxes gave a half-hearted yessir. Nicky, Renee, and Allison could be seen exchanging money through hands.

“What bet is this one?”

“You just made a SpongeBob reference, sir.” said Renee,

“Coach, I’m disappointed in you!” said Matt, “I took you for a Simpsons man and now I’m out the price of admission!”

Though Neil knew human spontaneous human combustion was near impossible for him to witness, he was almost convinced by Wymack’s face. “Look if any of you injure yourselves call Abby and not me.”

And with that the group began to disperse. Dan, Aaron, and Nicky headed towards the pool, Matt, Allison, and Renee went to the waterslide area, Kevin walked within sight to check a map, but Andrew still stayed still and looked more bored than ever. Neil’s fingers brushed against Andrew’s knuckles.

“It’s cool,” said Neil, “I don’t want to go swimming either. I mean, I kind of don’t have an option…” Neil gestured to his body. He was showing more skin than Andrew today, with the sleeves of his PSU shirt reaching over his shoulders but leaving a gap of skin leading to his armbands. His shorts were past his knees and left only parts most of his leg hair covered up anyway. He even decided to wear sandals instead of sneakers.

Andrew made his first movement by glaring at Neil’s face. He pulled his hands away and shoved them into his pockets.

“I’m going to get something to eat.” said Andrew.

“But I might go get a key and throw my stuff in a locker first.” Andrew ignored him and kept on walking, “Hey! What happened to ‘stay in groups’?”

“He doesn’t seem to be listening so far,” Andrew gestured his head to Kevin, “It’s only twenty feet away. You’re not gonna get eaten by a shark in five minutes, are you?”

Neil considered the possibilities.

“Okay. You go ahead,” said Neil, but Andrew gave a salute and already halfway gone, “You’re such a weirdo why do we hang out!”

The last line he called out a bit too loud, attracting heads of vacationing families to look his way. The anxiety spiked up in Neil and he immediately ran for the lockers.

Dan Wilds lowered her sunglasses from her hair to her over her eyes. She placed her hands behind her head and eased out the tension out of the rest of her muscles, laid back on a long chair in the row of them beside the pool. Sunlight was pressing on her bare legs and shoulders. Children ran past her into the shallow pool.

Behind the dark layer before her eyes she could see Nicky dicking around on a large pirate ship in the pool meant for children. Dan put it off for now, as long as he was in her line of sight. The problem was Aaron hadn’t come out of the changing rooms yet. Abby pulled a drink out of the cooler between their chairs and placed its condensation on her forehead. Dan reminded herself to keep an eye out, but for now there were no worries.

At least it wasn’t, until a tall shadow blocked her sun. Dan did her best not to react.

“Aren’t we supposed to be adults?” Kevin asked.

Out of all the questions Kevin Day has asked Dan this one felt the least confrontational or rhetorical. Though his words were still wrapped in an undercurrent of aggression.

“Legally speaking, yes.” said Dan

“Then why are we at a theme park designed for children?” She turned her head to the side to avoid his gaze and shadow.

“It’s a family park and we’re a family,” said Dan, “Also this one was the closest and had the least crowds.”

“And the traffic for the beach crowds?” said Abby, “Yikes.”

“And aren’t you supposed to be with Neil and Andrew right now?”

“I just got a key for my locker,” said Kevin, “Besides, they’re adults they can handle – well they should be able to handle themselves. Theoretically.” His face turned away from Dan to the water momentarily, as if the thoughts raced through his mind. Then he looked back, “I mean, is that a ‘vacation’ to you? Sending unstable people out in public so you have to look after them more than usual? Instead of being home and doing what’s required?”

Dan sighed. Kevin seemed to be another forming cloud on her day so far, “You didn’t have to come, Kevin.”

“And what would you have said then? You wouldn’t have complained about it?”

Dan threw up her hands in defeat. “Day, shouldn’t the point of fighting for your life be, I don’t know, to live?”

Kevin pinched above his nose. He breathed in, then breathed out. “If you need a waterslide to keep your heart rate up then there are other problems with your life.” Kevin gestured to the myriad of spongy attractions like oyster slides and jellyfish fountains and crocodile floats. “Snakes? Crocodiles? Jellyfish? Dart frogs? They don’t intend to keep me alive. Do you know what pirates were, Wilds? They weren’t child friendly. Which shouldn’t even be relevant because, as I seem to have remind you people again and again, we’re not children.”

It was a shame Dan’s shady eye-role was shaded by her shades. “You brought alcohol, didn’t you?”

“Look at the keychain to my locker, Wilds, it’s shaped like a surf board. And you expect me not to drink?”

Abby covered her ears. “I’m not hearing this.”

“For what it’s worth I didn’t drink any of it yet.” said Kevin. “It’s, what, one in the afternoon? I’m not that terrible.”

“So he says.” said Dan.

“I didn’t hear any of that either.” said Abby.

At that moment Matt passed by the three of them. He had a towel around his neck, wearing still sporting his Human Mermaid shirt but in bathing trunks now (they were cloud themed).

“How’s my Number One doing today?” Dan immediately sat up in her seat.

“I’m good so far. I’m good.”

“Well that’s good cause nobody deserves a day to themselves better than you.” Dan beamed, and Kevin suddenly felt like the conversation had be dropped.

“If you wouldn’t mind, can you put some sunscreen on the back of my shoulders?” Matt nodded and she handed him her bag. She looked back at where Kevin was standing. “Kevin, relax. Maybe you don’t want to go down a waterslide or sunbathe by the pool but it doesn’t hurt to just breathe for a second. Do what you want to do and rest.”

Kevin looked around as if he wasn’t quite certain how to do that. “I’m going back.”

As Matt looked thought Dan’s beach bag he placed some of her keys by her foot.

“Oh wow, it is shaped like a surf board.” said Dan.

“Alright: betting time,” said Allison, “Who’s punching who in the face today?”

“My money’s on somebody getting kicked in the groin.” said Matt. The group of guys Allison had attracted around them laughed.

“That’s oddly specific, Boyd,” said Allison, “Not wise to measure the amount of groin-kickage in the US by America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

The guys laughed what Allison said. They tended to laugh at everything she said.

“I’m not measuring anything on anything.” said Matt, “Just seeing a year-worth of pent-up aggression from wanting to see justice while wanting to avoid a red card.”

“I dunno. I guess it depends on how much you hate the guy,” said one of the guys close to Allison’s arms, “Your teammates get riled up easily?”

Matt and Allison chuckled at that.

They were all waiting on a long line for the Lazy River. After time passed Allison, her slim bathing suit showing off her muscular psyche naturally attracted other guys at the waterpark. Matt was directly at Allison’s side, but somehow Renee had gotten shuffled towards the edge of their group.

Renee grinned anyway. She’d been on the outlier of the conversation. “It doesn’t hurt to think outside the box,” she said, “But from my experiences of fighting Foxes, I’m putting money on taking advantage of their surroundings.”

Allison laughed, “You’re so right. I’m just imagining Kevin smacking Neil upside the head with one of the waterslide tubes or a floating crocodile.”

All the guys laughed but Matt’s was the strongest. Loud and hardy. Renee laid back further on the fence and smoothed her hands over her cover-up.

“You’re right, that is an amusing image,” said Renee, “But that’s not what I was considering when thinking of a waterpark.”

Matt and Allison thought on her words for a moment, and as they did their laughter died down. “You don’t mean…if they try to drown someone?” Allison asked.

“You can’t drown in shallow water!” said one of the guys. They were still laughing, since they were never involved.

Renee stood on her toes to look over the gate to see the attendees laying on tubes on water in motion, “That’s the pirate’s cove. I’d estimate the Lazy River is roughly five feet.”

“Dang, that’s stone cold, Walker,” said Matt, “So, if I’m understanding correctly, I’m putting your money on ‘one of the boys finally snaps and are never seen again’?”

“I didn’t mean drowning. I meant using the water as a tactical advantage.”

“Like drowning.” said Allison.

“I meant like standing your ground in a familiar environment.”

“Like when you’re drowning someone.” said Matt.

“Woah,” said one of the bros, “That’s like that scene in The Matrix and shit? Y’know, the third one? Where they fight in the rain and all that? And all, like, the clones are staring at them? But nobody drowns. It’s their souls that’s drowned. But the clones are supposed to be like…like…us.”

One of the guys groaned, “Nobody here cares about your philosophical musings, Lathan.”

Renee considered herself to be social, but would never quite know how to respond to that. “The bottom line is, I’m putting in fifteen.”

“Done deal.” Renee leaned in very far to shake Allison’s hand.

All the boys that weren’t Matt exchanged glances with one another. “Um, what exact sport do you play again?”

“Exy.” said Allison.

“Woah, isn’t that a rough sport for you?” One guy turned to Renee, “And especially for you?”

Renee offered him a polite grin, “It’s sweet for you to worry about me. But I’m the goalie, so I suppose that helps. Keeps me from all those nasty hits.”

Allison laid back on the fence. “Fuck that,” she said, “It’s a unisex sport so there’s more than one gender of player. Simple as that.”

“Yeah, girl power!” said a guy.

“On that note,” said Matt, “Our team captain is a girl.”

“Woah, lucky!” one of the guys said, and Renee noticed Matt didn’t mention his relation to her.

“Does that ever get awkward?” one of them asked.

Allison and Matt wanted to tell them no, but there was no good way or easy answer. Good thing they were close to the end of the line by that point.

“Well, it was nice meeting you boys!” said Allison, “I’d like to hang out with my friends now, if you don’t mind.” Allison was already backing away to the steps leading to the river.

“No, no, it’s all good!” a guy said, “It okay if some of us have your number though?”

“Oh, yeah, okay, sure. But I don’t have my phone with me? Maybe later.”

“Okay. After the ride maybe?”

“Uh, yeah definitely maybe!”

Renee grabbed a two-seater tube to share with Allison. Matt grabbed a two-seater one just for himself, due to his height. Allison laid back beside Renee, dipping her feet in the water as they drifted afloat.

Allison sighed. “Filling the void, right?”

“Filling the void.” said Renee. “That’s why the world is filled with lots of people.”

“You said it.”

Neil turned the key to lock the door shut. The moment he stepped away from the locker he felt lighter and anxious, though that could have been from being on his own with other people at the moment. He wasn’t certain if the children with their parents were glancing his way but he had difficulty stopping himself from thinking that they were. So he found his way outside as fast as he could. Neil distracted himself but putting the new temporary key on his keyring.

The sun was out and warm. He was noticing the positives of this place so far. The waterpark was filled with families but as long as you avoided the waterslides there were little to no crowds. The more open space compared to more populated amusement parks which gave him room to breathe.

He looked at the map that Kevin was reading before. This place seemed to be an assortment of waterslides, a series of water-based things like the river, carnival rides and games he’s outgrown, and a hayride leading to a petting zoo.

When Neil returned he found Andrew and Kevin near the carnival games. Kevin was giving a shot at the Can a Tin-Can! game, currently smashing a pyramid of cans with a baseball. The medium-sized plush shark he won was tossed on the wooden picnic table directly behind him where Andrew was sitting. There was a large stuffed dolphin and starfish seated next to Andrew’s cheesy fries. Andrew was resting his head over his folded arms.

Neil set down his water and phone and cautiously sat down across from Andrew. From here Neil could see Andrew’s eyes were closed.

The team had known about the waterpark trip for a few weeks now, but hadn’t considered, oh right, preparation, until the night before. Most of them spent the previous night on an emergency trip to the store to grab the essentials. Then they did regular shopping. It was past midnight. Andrew was the one who drove. Neil considered why Andrew was more tired than the rest of them, since he waited at the doors until they left and everything he needed was on a list he gave to Neil. Maybe it was just the usual lack of sleep. Neil could relate to that.

Kevin tossed a stuffed eel among the pile. Neil considered the idea of tucking the shark into Andrew’s folded arms but he knew he was already tucked away with his knives and Neil would like to keep his own arms for next season.

“Keep eyeing me while I’m sleeping and you’ll lose your sight privileges.” said Andrew. The stuffed shark had nothing on the real thing.

Neil’s head jolted up from his hand. “How could you tell?”

“You’re predictable.”

Neil sighed, then shrugged. “The consequences of a personality, I suppose.”

Andrew mumbled something but it was softened by his arm and exhaustion. Neil thought it almost sounded like a threat, but of course with Andrew everything does.

“Goddamnit!” Kevin yelled. He was at a game called Frog Bog. In the booth there was a pool with rotating lily pads in it. He apparently was required to launch rubber frogs onto the pads by placing them on a mini-catapult and slamming it with a hammer. Judging by his reaction and lack of frog plush Kevin had yet to succeed at this. There was a frustration burning in the way Kevin put his hand on his chin and looked like he was fully prepared to scold the frog on its life choices.

Neil stood up and assessed what was in front of him. Kevin had been succeeding at strength and aim based games thus far, ones benefited from his Exy skills, but this one was centered more around timing and trajectory. His experience would also help here but, of course, the carnival game was likely rigged too. He watched at Kevin paid for his next try (What happened to buying equipment, Kevin? Neil wants to say but doesn’t) and was given another rubber frog. The frog looked like it had been launched from a catapult all summer; beaten to hell and as slimy as a real frog.

Kevin folded the frog onto the catapult and slammed the hammer down. The frog flew so high it missed the pool entirely.

“I’ll try.” said Neil. Kevin shoved the hammer in his hands. Neil paid for his try and was handed a frog. Kevin and the other employee watched as Neil looked from the catapult to the frog to the Lilly pad to the hammer to figure out some plan.

“Hey, isn’t that they Candy Cane forest over there?” Neil shouted, pointing in a random direction.

The moment the employee glanced away Neil gripped the frog with his bare hands (it felt gross) and chucked it at the lily pad. It was a direct hit, but then bounced right off into the water.

The employee turned back to look at Neil. “Dude, don’t act like you’re the first one to try that stunt.”

Neil became frustrated but felt no need to try again. “What’s even the point?” he asked,

“He says after he loses,” said Kevin, “Spoken like a true coward.”

“What are you going to do with all of these toys anyway?”

“Charity, probably. I mean, fish are really popular with kids. After that fish movie. Finding Elmo or whatever.”

Neil wouldn’t know what movie that was, and would imagine that there would be quite a few fish in movies, but judging by the employee’s reaction it must be something mainstream. He instead moved on to the next booth over, Can a Tin-Can!, and paid for a turn. Neil told himself he’d try earnestly and honestly this time. He lobbed the ball at the cans as hard as he could.

It missed. It bounced off the wall. Neil ducked and knew by the sound it must’ve hit a person. And he knew that there was only one person in the vicinity it could have hit.

So much for honesty.

Neil was afraid to look. He felt bad as he turned back around

Andrew must have either fallen asleep or just became startled in the same way he is when he wakes up. It had been a long time since Neil saw that look on him.

Everyone there pointed to Neil as the culprit.

“I…Andrew…,” said Neil.

“You have thirty seconds left to live.” said Andrew.

“Andrew it was an accident! You know I’d never do that to you on purpose-”

“Twenty-four, twenty-two, twenty, eighteen…”

Neil bolted for it. He dashed past the games, rides, and families and headed for any open space. But strangely enough, for the first time while running off-court, he wasn’t afraid. Perhaps it was due to it being Andrew and the knowledge he would never truly bring harm to him. He felt a grin forming as he found a building with a door, ran up the stairs, and waited for Andrew to find him to see what would happen. Hiding without the danger, now that was something new.

Aaron didn’t want to be here. There were children yelling and crying outside the dressing room. Said dressing room was had a bamboo hut theme. He was wearing swim trunks that he knew he would only wear once. Every now and again he’d hear a different scream, a distant scream, likely from the waterslides he was certain were a hazard of some kind, even if he had yet to go anywhere near them. He stared at the lock. It looked like the lock to a bathroom stall. It was the only barrier between him and out there.

Katelyn had been sending him texts. He knows because they were exchanging them during the bus ride. She was giving him the details of the mall trip she was going on with her friends. Occasionally she’d send a pic asking his opinion on what she was wearing. Now his phone is in a locker so it wouldn’t get wet. She likely wasn’t sending anything now since she knew about this “trip”, but still.

Aaron unlocked the door and walked out. It led out to the Pirate’s Cove, a pool that had a lot of space but the water only went up to your calves. There was a large pirate ship in the middle. There were a lot of children here, especially in this section, but looking further Aaron did notice the packs of college and high school kids hanging around. He spotted Boyd, Walker, and Reynolds around that area, surprise surprise. The college kids were loud and, even from this distance, pretty obnoxious, but they weren’t screaming. The children in Aaron’s vicinity had no problem screaming. He’s glad he isn’t a kid anymore, for a lot of reasons.

He stepped in the water. It was cold at first. He moved around to cool off his feet and find something to do. There were a lot of floats in the water meant to be “fun”. A few crocodiles and whales, a slide shaped like an open oyster. It was a bit creative, he supposed. Just as Aaron began to take in his surroundings, a gush of water sprayed his back. The water was cold.

Turning around, of course, was his cousin on the pirate ship. Nicky was manning a watergun attached to the wall. He let out a laugh to congratulate himself on his perfect aim and timing. There was a line of small children behind him clamoring to use the watergun. Nicky is supposed to be the oldest on the team.

For a split second Aaron was furious enough to run up the ship and throw Nicky overboard, shallow waters and fake crocodiles be damned. But no, if he did that people would notice. Then they’d get “concerned”. Then they’d intervene. It would stop being fun. Aaron didn’t have the energy for that. So let out one grunt and sulked off to another part of the pool.

Aaron found a jellyfish-shaped shower next to the oyster slide. He went under it just to cool off the rest of his body. When he was under the water the screaming children became blocked out for a mere moment. He walked out and sat down in the water. It covered his legs and lapped at his elbows. The sun shined over Aaron’s shoulders. He breathed. This was more like it.

And then there was this damned kid. Not a screaming kid, just a damned one. He was on the oyster slide going down and around again and again, hogging his turn from the other kids. Even when the other kids try to reason with him he wouldn’t stop.

Oh, he doesn’t remind me of anyone. Aaron thought. But he made an attempt to tune it out. He focused on the cool water and his own surroundings. He thought about calling Katelyn before he got on the bus, and then again when he got home. Before he could close his eyes he saw a sudden movement in his peripheral vision. It was a grown man making a beeline to the slide and the other kids. Aaron tensed up, then told himself he was projecting again.

He went for the kid, presumably his father. Oh good someone else, an authority figure, is solving this problem. Swell. Aaron tried to separate himself from the problem once again. But then he heard screaming. It wasn’t a child this time.

The presumed father was yelling at the kid in a way Aaron deeply recognized. Aaron tried eying the lifeguard, but she didn’t seem to notice what was happening. The only option left was for Aaron to tell himself that it wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t his problem. But then the guy grabbed the kid by his shirt and that’s when he had to do something. Aaron got up from the water.

Aaron considered decking the guy, but that thought brought a flash of Andrew’s former pills and unnatural smile, so no, he’s not doing that today.

“Hey!” Aaron yelled, “What’s your problem?”

The anger and words get mixed together. Something about how this isn’t Aaron’s business because this is not his kid. Then it turns into and argument, a shouting match, he heard a whistle being blown at him and now the lifeguard takes notice.

And then Nicky’s there to break it up. Nicky’s asking what the problem is. The alarm bells went off in Aaron’s head. Why does Nicky always try to get involved.

So Aaron just. Shoved the guy. Shoved him because he could. Just like this guy grabbed his kid by the shirt because he could.

Nicky ran up to Dan. “Um, we have a bit of a problem-”

Dan held her hand up to Nicky. She held up five fingers, then counted each one down individually until reaching one. Dan took a breath.

“Alrighty,” she said, “Go ahead. Lay it on me.”

For once in a long time, Andrew thinks he’s actually going to kill Neil. When Kevin called Neil’s phone, it rang from the table they were sitting at before. Kevin isn’t as good at deciphering Andrew’s subtleties as others are, but there was no doubt to him Andrew looked distressed.

“This is absolutely nothing like last time,” Kevin told Andrew, “He’s probably safe and he didn’t run. He’s just being an idiot. But he knows you that’s not what you meant. He knows that above everyone.”

“Thirty seconds.” Andrew muttered to himself. Then Andrew was the one who ran. He had been searching in the most plausible location Neil could have made it to. When he couldn’t find him there he looked everywhere else.

It turned out Neil hadn’t gotten far at all. He was in a castle meant for plays for small children, where Andrew had already looked, but he hadn’t realized there was a second floor. When he checked for a second time Neil is just standing there, chatting with one of the employees.

The moment their eyes meet Neil ran again, and he had the audacity laugh while running. On one hand something resembling relief settled within Andrew. On the other, he’s chasing down Neil in the middle of the goddamn heat when he knows he can’t catch up. Andrew is this close to killing him.

Something solid smacked the back of Neil’s head. “Ow!” he looked down and saw his cell phone on the ground. He thought it was in his pocket but apartently it wasn’t. “You almost broke my phone, Andrew-”

Andrew stormed over to Neil until he was cornered at the barn. He slammed one arm on the wall at Neil’s side.

“You never let anything be simple, do you?” said Andrew, “Do you think this is a game? I have a mental map of this goddamn park now. What am I supposed to do with the knowledge that the Candy Cane Forest is next to the Tilt-a Whirl and the Frog Hopper? I have to live with that for the rest of my life now and it’s your fucking fault.”

Neil couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Andrew’s words even as his back touched the wall. An alert lit up in his mind how Andrew could corner him at any time but it wasn’t an alarm.

“Um, this was genuinely my bad, Andrew,” said Neil, “I really thought I had my phone on me but I guess I left it somewhere?”

“I gave you too much time.” Andrew said. Questions were the only things he dodged willingly, “I won’t be so generous next time. Your thirty seconds has been cut down to five.”

“There’s a next time? I thought you said you were gonna kill me.” said Neil

“Oh, Neil, of course I am,” Andrew ran a finger down Neil’s chin. There was still an opening at Neil’s side but instead of running he shivered at the touch, “Let me count the ways,” Andrew’s fingers were firm yet tickled Neil’s skin as they ran down his neck. His hand spread out and sank down until his palm pressed over Neil’s windpipe. Neil could feel his pulse pumping under Andrew’s skin. “So many options to choose from. But only one opportunity. It needs to be satisfying.”

“I never took you for the romantic type.”

Andrew squinted his eyes in disgust. His hand slid down to Neil’s chest and his face hovered closer. “You’re going to shut up now.”

When their noses touched Neil’s smile shrank down and his eyes closed.

“I’m going to shut up now…” Andrew groaned at that.

“Yes or no?” His lips brushed against Neil’s when he spoke.

“God yes…” Andrew’s lips slammed hard against Neil’s for such insolence. After a few good minutes of a warm buzz Andrew’s own Razr ™ phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Aaron.

yr pet ran away to the barn. leav him whr he belongs

Andrew rubbed Neil’s thigh to keep him quiet as he texted back.

Thinkin abt it

Found him btw. Thx.

“Well, gang, what’s the damage toll today?” Wymack asked. He had a new pair of sunglasses with the price tag still hanging off it.

“Neil got lost in the park.” said Matt

Wymack threw his hands up. He appeared to be about to make a joke, but then backtracked.

“Neil, what the hell? Did something happen?”

“I’m alright now!” Neil emphasized, “It’s not a big deal anymore!”

“Off to a great start.” said Wymack.

“Aaron nearly got sued for throwing a grown man in a kiddie pool.” said Nicky.

“Will you stop exaggerating shit for drama?!” Aaron said to Nicky, “He ‘threatened’ it but it was empty. It’s dealt with now It isn’t going to become a problem.”

Wymack rubbed his temples, “Anything else anyone needs to report?”

“I decapitated a rubber frog with a mallet,” said Kevin, “but the thing was falling apart anyway, so I blame that on poor maintenance and not my superior tactical strategy.”

“Of course, Kevin. And what were you saying about damage to our equipment?”

“They can’t fine us for their own incompetence, Coach.”

“Let’s hope they don’t, Kevin. Let’s hope they don’t.” Wymack turned to the third group, “What about you three? Get in any legal trouble at the waterpark today?”

Matt and Allison had their backs turned to the group at the moment, in a heated debate with Renee.

“See? He didn’t technically drown anybody.” said Allison.

“Once again, I didn’t say drown. I a tactical advantage.” said Renee

“But does it count as tactics if he’s just submerged?” asked Matt, “Was his head under the water? How long was he under? Did he cough at any time? Yo Nicky, you were a witness weren’t you? We need you to testify!”

“Hey!” said Wymack, “We’re trying to leave here!”

“I scored the digits of four guys and one girl,” said Allison, “I’ll likely never use them, but hey, you never know for a rainy day.”

“I made twenty dollars while enjoying myself,” said Renee, “Thank you, Aaron.”

Aaron had no idea what part he had in this and didn’t intend to ask.

“Wait!” said Allison, “What about the Neil bets?!”

“Oh yeah,” said Renee, “Make that fifty dollars.”

“Wait, Neil, you didn’t sustain any bodily injuries, did you?” asked Nicky, “Cause even if it’s a tiny papercut that’s thirty right there.”

“’Neil Bets’?” Neil asked, even if he had a large suspicion of what those entailed.

“Yeah, obvious things you do. Like when you say ‘I’m fine’ or don’t know a movie reference or wear mismatched clothes. It’s like taking a shot, but with money.”

“I feel like I should feel something about that,” said Neil, “but I mostly don’t care.”

“Finally, he gets it.” said Andrew.

“I need a vacation from this vacation,” said Wymack.

“It looks like you survived.” Matt said to Dan, “How you holding up?”

Dan breathed in and out. “Well, I did get some sun. I got dragged into a few incidents for a few minutes but they pretty much cleared up by the time I got there. Overall it was okay.”

Matt handed a plush frog plush over to Dan.

“You won this?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Aw, it’s soft! It’ll make a great pillow on the ride back. You’re the best.”

When Matt hugged Dan, careful around her shoulders, he could have almost sworn he witnessed a green glow hovering above the chess tattoo eying him. Kevin Day, semi-professional sports player, professional celebrity, aspiring Olympian, survivor, would not stoop so low to start a war over stolen carnival prizes. Despite how earned they were. But he would make sure Matt would be miserable when the end of August hit.

Neil purchased ten temporary tattoos from the gift shop at Andrew’s request.

“Punishment for what you put me through today.” Andrew said.

“Andrew, they’re like less than fifty cents each.” said Neil. That almost seemed like a challenge so Andrew grabbed two Super Soakers off the wall and dumped them at Neil’s feet.

As they waited for the bus to arrive Neil wet the sponge for the tattoos with his water bottle. They picked a ship for Neil’s neck and skull for Andrew’s cheek.

“You better not fuck up my beautiful face.” said Andrew.

“It’s called a temporary tattoo for a reason.” said Neil.

“Your hair is temporary. You’d have a problem if I ripped that out the wrong way.”

“Always violence with you.”

“Yeah? Neil, I’m getting a skull on my face.”

Neil laughed. “A skull tattoo on your face is less violent. More…a cry for help.”

“Face tattoos are a cry for help in general.” Andrew said loud enough for the words to reach Kevin. He got no response but Neil saw Kevin glance in their direction.

When Andrew pulled the white strip off Neil asked him how it looked. “Stupid and fake. Fits you perfect.”

Neil removed the square from Andrew’s cheek. The skull had a rose near it’s chin. Neil found it a little endearing. “It’s not as serious as it thinks it is. Fits you perfect.”

Andrew shoved Neil on the shoulder for that.

When the bus arrived they sat next to each other. Neil kept using the sponge to keep Andrew’s face cool.

“You want me to play music on the way back?” Neil asked. He wasn’t certain if he’d get the same answer as he did on the ride up here but he was willing to try.

“Do whatever you want. But I’m gonna fall asleep halfway through.”

Neil grinned. “Oh good. That means I can play whatever I want.”

“Fuck off.” Neil placed an earbud in his left ear then delicately did the same for Andrew.

By the time it moved Andrew was already nodding off from the mixture of exhaustion and running and his latest bout of almost-feeing.

“Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a yes for my shoulders tonight.” said Andrew.

Neil understood. As Andrew looked out the window and began to doze off Neil lowered his head on his shoulder. Looking at Andrew, his Andrew’s skin felt cooler to the touch even through he never went in the water. It must be contagious.

As the bus moved on and the scenery passed Neil found his eyes closing too.

#aftg #Foxhole Court #fanfiction #writing #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #Aaron Minyard #Nicky Hemmick #Allison Reynolds #Renee Walker #Kevin Day #Dan Wilds #Matt Boyd #David Wymack #oh geez this turned out long #aftg exchange #dysfunctional-college-roommates #aftgexchange

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