#and then the next day sibs started arguing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bearstarseraphffxi · 4 years ago

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“Stupid kid…” Piccolo said to himself. He looked at the small human — no not human, not completely anyway — who had fallen asleep and casually collapsed onto him without a care in the world.

A world that had just gotten immeasurably bigger ten months ago.

Piccolo did not know how to react at first. This kid was a first for many things. He stayed still hoping he’d fall off.

But no… The son of his greatest enemy had just leaned forward and was now draped over one of his legs.

Piccolo sighed. He looked up at the moonless night sky. He absentmindedly wondered which pinprick of light was the fault of what he was about to do. What he had been stewing over for four months now, making him seriously analyze his birth and what could have gone wrong with the transfer. He was Demon King Piccolo, damn it…

Piccolo looked over to the west and sneered. He could practically hear Kami snickering in his head.

Piccolo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He put his large hand on the boy’s head. “Sebnek yemtaw himefinnew.”

Gohan moaned and twitched.

Piccolo jerked his hand away, but Gohan simply moved his arm and somehow ended up even more over his leg before he went still again.

Piccolo sighed in relief.

~~***~~

“Hey, Mr. Piccolo?” Gohan asked, adjusting his pants from the morning bush and small ki-blasted hole visit.

“What?” he said annoyed.

Piccolo stood as he always did, his back to him, but Gohan did not mind. That was just Mr. Piccolo.

When his mother was mad at his father, she would turn her back and talk in that tone when he would win the argument, then reword what he had said to make it look like she got exactly what she wanted all along. He did not know what he was “winning”, but Mr. Piccolo was being a lot nicer to him recently when he wasn’t beating him into a pulp.

“What does Seb nek yem taw—”

Piccolo partially spun around. “What?! You were awake?!”

Gohan stuttered, “I… you always randomly attack me. But you were gentle, so I went back to sleep.”

Piccolo regained his composure, crossed his arms, and towered over the boy. Any other child would be terrified, but this one just smiled back at him.

Piccolo sighed in annoyed defeat. There was no scaring this one. “I called you a silly boy last night in my language, that was all.”

“What part of it means silly?”

“Himefinnew. It is a single word that means a silly child.”

“You can call me Himefinnew any time you want, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said grinning, with what few teeth were left.”

Piccolo reached his hand out and grabbed Gohan’s head, then gently spun him around. “Let’s just keep it Finnew for short, got it?”

“Yes, sir! Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said happily.

Piccolo suddenly punted the screaming boy high into the air. “Never turn your back on the enemy!” Piccolo shouted, jumping after him to start the day’s training.

~~***~~

Three months later…

“Hey guys!” Bulma shouted, holding her phone in one hand and waving with the other, “Dad says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes with the two cargo planes to take us to my place!”

“Does it really take this long to traverse your own planet?!” Vegeta snapped. “This planet is puny judging by its gravity!”

Bulma put her hands on her hips. “Oh, stop complaining, homeboy. It hasn’t even been an hour yet.”

“An hour?!”

Everyone glanced at the arguing couple before returning to their own conversations.

Piccolo glared ominously as Gohan was speaking with Dende and three young adults. They were laughing at each other’s bad accents while speaking each other’s languages. “He” knew that the three couldn’t speak properly and that the laughter was not genuine. “He” knew ‘teenagers’ when he saw them, the old word suddenly sounding like he heard it for the first time, even though it was spoken with “his” own mind’s singular voice.

It had only been a few hours and these sensations were getting old fast.

“(Hey there),” a Namekian came up to him awkwardly in their native tongue. “(How are you doing, after… everything)?”

Piccolo sighed. “(I)”, he stressed, “(am fine… Lumache. Really. Go comfort the others who are taking Guru’s death badly.)”

Lumache smiled relieved, but his face quickly changed to confusion. “(Are you sure? You’re speaking with a bit of a lisp.)”

Piccolo smirked. (It’s the accent here on Earth. I doubt ‘Kami’ will be coming down from his ‘high horse’ to meet any of you. But this is how we speak here.)”

Lumache tilted his head concerned. “(Is this ‘Kami’ another aboriginal like the pet?)”

“(Gohan is no pet)”, Piccolo said, barely containing his rage. “(And ‘Kami’ is…)” he paused. “(… the name of my egglayer’s hatchmate.)”

Lumanche raise his finger, “(But… ‘Kami’ is not a Namekian name.)”

“(I know, but his name is Kami. So get used to it.)”

Lumache bent his raised finger. “(And he was also called a… ah…)” he hesitated looking for the right words.

Piccolo smirked. “No, his name was Namekian and I will be using it going forward. That was the deal.”

Lumache sighed relieved with a thankful grin across his face, “(Oh, that goodness. I was worried, dear brother.)”

Piccolo was feeling both a little bad but also waiting in great anticipation to laugh at his reaction when the conversation with the teenagers got loud. He turned his full attention back to Gohan and Dende.

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, then bent his elbow as he balled his fist.

~~***~~

Moments earlier…

The teenager in the middle of the trio was making funny noises to the laughing of his two companions and the giggling of Dende.

Gohan, however, was being encouraging. “You’re getting close. Just find a soft spot near the top of your throat to click the area just behind the tip of your tongue against it.”

The teenager threw his hands up, and spouted what Gohan knew to be curses. “(This is bleep-ing ridiculous!)” he continued.

“(Don’t feel bad,)” Gohan said. “(I still can’t get *guttural sound with a secondary high pitch right afterwards* right. ‘Mr. Piccolo’ said he knows of a few ‘human’ languages with the sounds happening at the same time and that after the fighting we could look into ‘throat singing’ together.)”

The one on the teenager’s right chuckled. “(Yeah, and I’m sure this ‘Piccolo’ has been a big help since you speak with such a bad lisp.)”

“(He doesn’t have a lisp,)” Dende corrected. “(It’s just the accent of the people here. I’m told everyone speaks that way.)”

“(Dende,)” the one to the left shook his head. “(And the elders always say you were the smart one. Here you are believing everything a piccolo says.)”

“Dende,” Gohan whispered in English, “is there a word that’s also said as piccolo and not just a person’s name?”

Dended had a look of shock on his face. “You don’t—”

“(Dende, don’t bother,)” the teenager in the middle said. “(There’s no point learning this stuff.)”

“After everything that just happened, how can you say that?!” Dende said loudly, and in English.

The entire congregation went silent and turned to look at them.

As Dende started to whimper and Gohan wrapped his arms around him, the three knew they all looked bad.

“(Since you can’t say my name right,)” Gohan offered an olive branch, “(My teacher, ‘Mr. Piccolo’, calls me something when I’m being stupid. ‘Nickname’ doesn’t have a better translation than that.)”

Unknown to the youths, everyone’s sight was turned to the sudden fighting stance of the person all the Namekians but Dende knew only as Nail’s new Keeper.

“(Ok, ‘Hohan’, What’s this ‘Nickname’?)”

“(Himefinnew. He shortened it Finnew.)”

You could hear a pin drop.

~~***~~

Vegeta knew something was wrong instantly as his eyes scanned the clearing. This type of shock, disbelief, and the building rage so pungent it was tasteable on his tongue, this only came with something unforgivable. Vegeta enjoyed getting his prey to react like this. The resulting stupidity was entertainment on boring missions. Killing and eating children usually did the trick. Nappa didn’t even bother with the killing part first.

Vegeta smirked.

This wait just got a lot less boring.

~~***~~

“Gohan! Gohan, don’t say something like that!” Dende grabbed his armor and shook him. “Apologize!”

“What? Is… Is it actually a curse word?” Gohan said horrified as the possibility dawned on him. “Mr. Piccolo said it meant ‘silly child’.”

“Silly child?!” Dende looked over at Piccolo. “Has the meaning changed here?! Don’t you know what it means?!”

Suddenly, an adult came over and grabbed Gohan’s arm. He tried to bite his nails into his flesh, but they bent backwards instead.

Gohan barely had time to plant his feet when the man went suddenly flying through several trees.

Piccolo retracted his arm from the long punch and stormed over. “(Next person who touches that child joins Schnecke pulling splinters out of his tonsils!)”

“(How…)” “(Can we even do that?)” “(Did he just… extend his arm?)” were among the murmurs Gohan could make out. He also spotted several Namekians put their hands over their mouths and looked away, or even bending over at the waist.

Dende tugged on Piccolo’s pants leg. “How did you do that?” he whispered in English.

“(Don’t you dare teach something that barbaric and obscene to the hatchlings! You shame your role as a holy keeper to Na, eh?)” the Namekian paused. “(What even is your name, brother?!)”

“(He’s no brother! Brothers do not harm brothers! He attacked Schnecke!)”

“Why do they keep calling Mr. Piccolo ‘brother’?” Gohan whispered to Dende. “He’s from Earth? So was his father and Kami? They don’t have siblings.”

“Sib-lin?” Dende said confused. “I don’t know that word.”

Piccolo stood proudly, “(My name is Piccolo! Piccolo ‘Daimao’ the Second!” He slowly turned his head glaring into as many eyes as possible, “Heir to my dead egg layer, King Piccolo ‘Daimao’!)”

A pin drop could be heard again as Gohan looked around. All the Namekians had looks of horror on their faces. He kicked himself for being surprised.

“Gohan, what does ‘Daimao’ mean?” Dende whispered in English.

Gohan jerked his head. “Wha? You don’t? Then wha?” he stuttered. He began glancing around anxiously.

“Gohan what’s wr—”

Suddenly a Namekian fell to his knees screaming in anguish. “(Who names a child that?!)”

Piccolo stomped over screaming something so fast all Gohan could make out was Piccolo repeating his name over and over again, but judging by the adults scrambling to cover the children’s ears, he wasn’t old enough to learn a good portion of it.

Piccolo grabbed the Namekian by his collar and pulled him up. “(And if any of you touch Hime again…)” Piccolo extended his nails into long daggers, “(I’ll slice you apart so bad you can’t regenerate.)” He then shoved the man back on the ground and retracted his claws. “Hime!” he said walking swiftly over to Gohan. Piccolo put his hand on Gohan's head, gently turning and shoving him. “We’re leaving. Come on, boy,” he said in English.

Gohan stumbled briefly but quickly walked in step with him into the trees.

~~***~~

Vegeta was disappointed that the show seemed to be over after those two had vanished into the woods, but their energy seemed to still be close by. Suddenly Dende broke the awkward silence by running after them. The others began to shout before the old one the dead Namekian had placed hands on shouted something that made the others stop before he walked after Dende.

Vegeta turned to stalk them when he looked at the Earth woman who had turned at the exact same moment.

They looked at each other surprised before the woman gave an oddly devious smile, took two steps ahead then turned and pointed at him before repeatedly bending that finger. Vegeta took the strange gesture as an invitation to follow and the two disappeared unnoticed.

~~***~~

“Mr. Piccolo, what was that about? What happened there? Why was everyone mad at me? What did—”

“Not now, Gohan. They can still hear us.”

Gohan looked behind them.

“My ears are not for show,” Piccolo answered his thoughts.

Suddenly Piccolo looked behind them as well.

Soon Gohan heard it too.

“Wait! … Gohan, wait!” was heard softly in the distance.

Then came the rapid footsteps.

Dende burst through the trees stopping in front of them. He placed his hands on his knees panting. “Wait… Wait for me…”

Piccolo sighed. “Fine… you can come too,” he said annoyed. He began walking briskly again. “Hurry.”

“Yes,” Gohan quickly got in step.

Dende jogged out of breath behind them.

~~***~~

Piccolo eventually stopped and leaned against a tree. “Ok, this is far enough,” he sighed. He sat on the ground.

“Mr. Piccolo, what happened? Why was everyone mad at me?”

Piccolo sighed. “Gohan… from what I taught you about my language, break down Himefinnew into its parts.”

“Um…” he thought, “Finnew is the third person singular to finir, which means to find something funny, so… Hime is the part that means boy. I find the boy funny, or Silly boy like you first said.”

“Dende, quiet,” Piccolo said cutting him off. He looked back at Gohan. “Now Gohan, tell me the difference between the words red and crimson.”

Gohan paused. “They are both two words that mean the same color?”

“Yes, but there is a difference. Do you know why the word red is almost always used while crimson is not?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Crimson specifically means the color of human blood. To call something crimson is to compare it to blood. Now answer that question.”

“Blood is scary?”

Piccolo smiled, “Exactly.”

“So Hime is a scary version of boy?”

“What?! No!”

“Dende quiet,” Piccolo snapped.

Dende looked down.

Piccolo sighed.

“Gohan, what I’m trying to say is that many words have a hidden meaning. Like crimson is scary. Hime is… I… it…” Piccolo’s face and ears tinged purple. He covered his face with one of his hands. “Gah… what I’m trying to say is… Gohan…

“So you named the child but never told him? Were you ever going to tell him?”

“Elder Moori!” Dende said as the old Namekian walked out of the trees.

Piccolo shot up as his color deepened. “This is a private conversation!”

Moori gave a knowing smile to the adult blushing like a child being caught being naughty. He looked at Gohan. “So tell me Himefinnew, did Piccolo place his hands on your head and say ‘Sebnek yemtaw’ when he named you, or…”

Gohan started nodding before he finished.

“I see…” He looked at Piccolo, “I don’t know how significant it is with our kin on Earth, but for Namekians the naming ceremony is an important step in a child’s life. We do not name at hatching but let the child grow until it becomes apparent what his name is, like Dende here,” he looked at him, “Dende literally means ‘He writes in stone’. We named him that because he can memorize and repeat anything he hears perfectly.”

“And Nail means humility,” Dende said looking up at Piccolo.

Moori snickered, “Nail was not happy when he was named that by Guru. You don’t know this Dende, but Nail was actually very arrogant as a youth. He was sent to live Guru not because he was virtuous, but because he was a delinquent.”

Dende’s jaw dropped.

Moori looked at Piccolo, “Nail never lost that fire despite him learning to outwardly behave. I was greatly worried for you, but after everything that just happened…” he walked over and put his hand on piccolo’s shoulder. “I know you two will make a fine man once everything settles down in a few hours. Only a man with the pride in his name like that could embrace him fully and not be ashamed of his lesser instincts,” then he smiled knowingly, “Isn’t that right ‘Daimao’?”

“You know what that means, elder?” Dende asked.

Moori took his hand off Piccolo’s shoulder and looked down at him, “Yes I do. It’s a word that means the unpleasant part of all of us, like arrogance,” he glanced at Piccolo, “Or anger.” He looked back down, “While ‘Kami’ is the nice things about us, like friendship and loyalty.”

“But they are both words like crimson, right?” Dende asked.

He nodded. “Yes, they both have a special connotation that makes them very rare. Even the adults don’t know those words.” Moori looked down at his hands. “Even I… did not know those words until a little while ago.”

Dende nodded understanding.

Moori extended his hand. “Come with me, Dende. Let the ‘titim’ and ‘hime’ talk alone.” Then he turned in a random direction. “That goes for you two as well!”

“What?! How did you know we were here?!”

“You stupid bitch! Don’t you know how to keep your stupid mouth shut!”

“I am not a stupid bitch, you—”

Piccolo grumbled putting his hand over his face again.

Moori smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be able to relearn your awareness. Nail was always too easy to sneak up on.” He took a step then stopped, “It may not be my place to say, Daimao, but maybe losing some of your suspiciousness would be a good thing. It can be lonely as a piccolo no matter where your home is.”

He took Dende’s hand and left.

Piccolo sighed as the volume of the argument coming from the trees rose up several notches.

“So… we’ll be talking later, right?” Gohan asked, looking in the direction of the screaming.

Piccolo chuckled, “Yeah… … Actually, Gohan,” he knelt and whispered in his ear.

~~***~~

10 minutes later at the clearing, a large box-shaped plane touched down.

Dr. Brief hopped out.

“Daddy!” Bulma ran over.

“There’s my baby girl!” They hugged. “Phew. Oh boy, I’ll call your mother and make sure you have a nice bubble bath waiting with lavender candles.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Hey! I thought you said two transports! That’s only one!” Vegeta shouted pointing.

Dr. Brief pulled out what looked like a grenade from his pocket and threw it a good distance away. Suddenly an identical craft appeared in a puff of smoke.

Vegeta gritted his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping.

Bulma threw open the passenger side door, “Come on, Homeboy! Come ride in the cockpit with me!”

Vegeta stiffened and clinched his fists. “As if I’d spend another second listening to your prattle!”

Then sit in the back with the friends of the people you killed for three hours, you jerk!”

“I’ll ride with the old man!” he looked at Dr. Brief to see him already talking with Dende.

“Sorry, sonny! The kid’s beat you to it!”

Vegeta bristled. “Fine!” he stormed over and shoved her out of the way. He climbed in and slammed the door.

“Jerk,” she said, wiping the grass off her. Bulma turned to the group as her father dropped the cargo ramp on his plane. “Ok everyone! Load up so we can finally get out of the bugs!”

Piccolo helped everyone find a seat, the elders and children bucketed on the benches while the teenagers and adults sat on the floor. Gohan did the same for the other plane.

Gohan came around to Bulma’s window.

She rolled it down.

“Everyone’s in over here. I'm going to ride with Mr. Piccolo in the other plane.”

“Ok, Gohan.” Bulma rolled up the window.

On the other side, Piccolo was talking to Dr. Brief.

“Everyone is ready. I’ll be with Gohan in the other plane.”

“Okey Dokey. See you when we land,” Dr. Brief smiled.

The Briefs watched Gohan and Piccolo walk over and disappear behind the other plane in their side mirrors. After a brief rock that felt like someone climbing in, the two rear doors closed.

As the two planes flew away, Piccolo and Gohan floated in the air watching them, having flown up after rocking the plane to avoid being seen on the ground after takeoff.

Gohan had his hands over his mouth stifling a giggle.

Piccolo grinned. “Deceit is fun, isn’t it Gohan?”

“Yes, don’t tell Mom I said so.”

“Secret’s safe with me.”

The two dropped their arms and sighed at the same time. Then they looked at each other.

Piccolo dropped to the ground first, Gohan landing moments later.

“Ok… We’re were we…” Piccolo said slowly.

“Actually, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said looking up.

Piccolo looked down.

“Could you tell me what you were saying when you were screaming your name? Besides the bad words, I mean. You spoke too fast. I… got the part where you threatened to chop him up, though.”

Piccolo sat down, “This… is going to be… just about as hard to explain as Hime is actually…”

Gohan looked down, “Oh…”

“Sit down, Gohan.”

Gohan sat down mimicking Piccolo’s legs position.

He halfheartedly smiled, then sighed. “Gohan… ‘Piccolo’ has a very specific meaning, and in fact wasn’t even a name until Kami called out, ‘I banish all that is abhorrent! Piccolo!” when they cleaved. Did you know how they were born?”

“A person ripped in two and became all good and all bad. But you’re not all bad, Mr. Piccolo.”

“Gohan, the ability to care for a child is a biological function. It has nothing to do with good or bad. My father felt every one of my brother’s die by your father’s hands just as much as Guru felt Frieza rip their lives away one by one.”

Gohan gasped softly.

“You didn’t know about my brother’s, did you?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Gohan. You know how babies are made, right?”

“A mommy and daddy each take half a small piece of themselves that can’t live alone, stick them together to make a new person then the mommy either grows them in their tummy or lays an egg and they grow in there until they hatch, right?”

“That is how things work on Earth,” he nodded. “But that does not work for Namekian’s like me.” He adjusted his position. “We don’t have both mommies and daddies. There is only one kind. We take a whole piece of ourselves, already alive, and place in an egg to grow again. That is why we feel the deaths of our children, because literally a piece of us has died.”

“What does this have to do with your name?”

“Because ‘piccolo’ means anything that is not part of us. Born from us. Is. Us. But like red and crimson, Piccolo is saved for special things, like an alien planet and the people who lived there. You are a piccolo, even if people won’t say it to your face.”

Gohan looked down, “And anything piccolo is abhorrent, right?”

Piccolo put his hand on Gohan’s head. “Not everything.”

“What…” Gohan started sniffling, “What did you say?”

“I was born on an alien world. I was raised as an alien. I am an alien. There are many other words I could have used to convey that, but using my name was just me beating it into their thick skulls without using my actual fists.”

“Being able to defeat your opponent without ever needing to touch them is just as big a part of war as actually fighting hand to hand combat.”

“Correct. If you weren’t such a goofball, there would probably be two Dende’s right now.”

Gohan gave a quick few laughs, then when quiet.

Piccolo waited silently for him to speak.

He waited a very long time.

“Mr. Piccolo…” Gohan finally started, but never finished his thought.

“Say what you are thinking Gohan,” Piccolo ordered, “Nothing you can say will ever make me mad. I have a thick skin.”

“Do… Do I… Do I have two grandfathers now…” he glanced up at his face, “that are kings?”

Piccolo smiled, showing his teeth.

Gohan gasped. Piccolo swore his eyes were sparkling.

Piccolo sighed and closed his eyes. He raised his finger. “One time. This one ti— ACK!”

Gohan flung his arms around Piccolo’s neck and knocked him flat on his back.

“Oofff,” he said, having the wind knocked out of him.

“Titim. Titim.” Gohan kept repeating, now crying in his ear.

Piccolo sighed and looked up at the clouds. He then suddenly raised his arms and gave two middle fingers to the sky.

Even thirty miles below, he could hear the laughing.

#dragon ball z #dragon ball z kai #namek saga #saiyan saga #piccolo #Gohan #son gohan #fanfiction #fanfic

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tots-insane-ee · 4 years ago

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uh. hcs for being on a long car trip with the warners?

Long car trip with the Warners would include:

Reminder: This is completely platonic and just pure fluff. Reader is gender-neutral and not species specific

Oh boy-

Okay, so we all know, based on the “I’m mad” segment from the original series how they would act in this situation… normally

These kids just don’t like sitting still in confined spaces for too long

And also sibling shenanigans

But now that you are here it kinda shakes a few things up

It was actually Dr. Scracthansniff’s idea to go on a trip, he felt guilty about tricking the puppy children back in “Hindenburg cola” and they haven’t talked properly in 20 years. He wants to make up to them

BUT! He’s worried about things that can go wrong, because A) he knows what these kids are like and B) he thinks they might be mad at him

That’s where you come into the picture

“Please, Mrs. Y/n!” Scratchy would beg, following after you on his knees “I know we don’t know each other that much, but the kids like you and trust you. They would be so much happier and I’m sure it would be much more safer if you come along as well”

You didn’t plan on saying “no”. A trip and potential adventure with your zany friends?? Hell yeah! But you also felt kinda bad for the psychologist

He let you choose the place where you all will spend the day

You both went to the water tower the next day to help Yakko, Wakko and Dot getting ready

Let me tell you, when they saw you with Scratchansniff that morning next to the car, their excitement already left the charts

The mood quickly changed

Oh, but bold of you to assume that this is gonna be easy, oh you poor soul

You guys were going with Scratchy’s car and he was driving.

Problem number 1: Who’s gonna sit in the passenger seat? You guys haven’t even left the movie lot, the argument already started

“Y/n gonna sit in the middle, but that means one of us has to be in the front seat.” “Well, Yakko, we all know what that means, right?” “Uhhhh no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Me and Wakko are too young and short to sit in the passenger seat, it’s the law. It can only be you.” “What?! That’s not fair.” “Sorry bro, the rules are the rules.” “When did we ever care about the rules?? I refuse.” “Oh, so you mean you want Y/n to sit there? If you can’t sit with her you don’t want any of us to sit with her?” “Booo, selfish!” “No, I’m not!” “Yes, you are!” “Nuh-uh!” “You are-”

In the end, you agreed that Yakko stays in the backseat and you’ll switch places with him on the way back. He will be bitter about it but oh well

Now you all can actually go

It was nice and dandy and peaceful-

“You poked me with your elbow in my side!” “No I didn't!” “Yes you did!” “Nuh-uh!” “You did!” “You're lying, don't deny it!” “Oh, I'm gonna hit you.” “Yeah, just try it.” “Will both of you be quiet?!-”

Ahhh… it has truly been a beautiful 5 minutes...

“You guys wanna play games?” Okay, now you got their attention “Oh, danke Gott…” Scratchy would say, letting out a relieved sigh

Scavenger hunt, I spy, would you rather, barkochba, whisper challenge, finish my sentence, never have I ever, punch buggy… you name it all!

Really competitive rock-paper-scissors sessions

“Cows on my side!” “Wakko… that’s a dalmatian.”

There was an attempt for “the quiet game”, they didn’t last for 10 seconds

Just imagine singing along to the songs from the radio together

“Are we there yet? I'm tired. I'm hungry. How far? My nose is snotty. Need to move my body. Gotta use the potty. Better stop the car.” And so you guys stopped at a gas station, got some snacks too

They, no matter what they are doing or eating, won’t get car sick.

(Will take care of you if you do. They were surprisingly prepared for that?? Like get you some water and rub your back gently, brushing the hair away from your face if you throw up)

“Stop it!” “No, you stop it!” ”Why can't you both just drop it?!” “Well, he started it!” “Oh, yeah, I'm really sure, uh-huh” “Na-ah!” “Uh-uh!”

As I said, they really can’t handle sitting in one place for too long

Once reaching your destination, they realized where exactly they are. It’s the same circus where Scratchy took them to one time

They would give you and Scratchansniff both a big hug and a kiss, then grab you by the hand to show you everything

The day passed away faster than you guys thought, it’s always this way when you have fun. The sun was setting and it was time to go home

The Warners apologized for arguing too much and they all took their seats, now you sitting between Wakko and Dot, and Yakko in the passenger seat

The ride back home was quiet. Both Wakko and Dot fell asleep next to you, leaning their heads onto your shoulders, curling next to your side.

“Thanks for today, toots” Yakko whispered with a tired grin on his face. He turned around and reached his hand out so he could gently ruffle his sibs’ head. “The circus was your idea, wasn’t it?” You only flashed him a knowing smile, feeling sleepy as well. He poked your cheek in response before turning to Scratchansniff.

“Thanks to you too, Doc. I thought you forgot about this place.” “There’s nothing to thank. And how could I forget? We had so much fun that time as well. Also, truly… I missed you kids.” “Awe, we missed you too, old man”

You fell asleep listening to their talking, holding the other two Warners close

The next trip just can’t come soon enough

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animaniacs and reader #animaniacs headcanons #dr scratchansniff #ask #speaking from pure experience #legit almost every car trip with my siblings were like this

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kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

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Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease. Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there. To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door. He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open. Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees. He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast. Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out. After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget. Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either. Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on. He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic. The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money. They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel. Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch. “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath. She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact. He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident. “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about. Presents. What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers? Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea. Because Yakko is smart. Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin. “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink. Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes. They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling. Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through. Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day. Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great. She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her. She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall. Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal! By my own siblings no less! Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead. Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand. Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot! I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean. He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk. Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal. The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still. Who doesn’t love winter? It has Christmas! And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside. She wants to play in the snow. She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs. She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern. Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise. Because it will be. He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch. He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine. It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end. Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is. Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day. Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?”

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually. Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside. We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride? They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay? They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here. It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then. Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates. Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad. Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes. He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow. Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting. Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen. He shuffles over himself. Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before. “My gift to you is your menu of choice. The whole day, a la carte menu. Whatever you guys want, I’ll make. So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift. Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother. But, uh, let me make Dot’s first? Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin.

After that, they open up the presents under the tree. Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt. He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained. Wakko thinks he knows why. Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all. There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity. She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end. She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too. He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others. He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley. He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping.

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside. Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket. “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world. “Make me uncomfortable. Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that. Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not? Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection! He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand. But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves. “I...have to prepare my gift for you. Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs. Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out. He’d checked, double checked, triple checked. If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound. Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes. His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar. From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious. “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants. He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her. Dot throws some back. Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother. Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #christmas fic #tower tales

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eevee-eclair · 4 years ago

Text

I Wonder Why?

Written by Eevee

Things to look out for: Back pain, (tell me if I missed one!)

Random side note: Sorry this took so long! I’m kinda burnt out so after this I’m gonna take a small break. I’ll still take small requests though!

Taglist: @lehuka123 @helenisdoodling @suavebiscuitsaregood @cherry-dork @oakwoodforest @confident-tavros @chad-garlude @littel-snail @lemonade-thieves @kitardene @rosepuppett

~~~

Yakko woke up to a sore back. He slowly sat up and winced. He shouldn’t be surprised, he slept in a ball-pit for crying out loud! But even though it hurt his back, he loved the comfort it gave him.

He wouldn’t tell his siblings this, but the balls in the ball-pit made him feel safe. It was a weird thing to say so he never did. When someone would ask, he would tell them it was because he was “zanny to the max” and they would just nod and agree before moving on.

Yakko was pulled from is thoughts when his sister jumped down beside him. “Morning, Yakko!” she said, smiling.

Yakko smiled back. “Hey, sis. How’d ya sleep?”

“Good! I got all my beauty rest!” she told him. Yakko noted how happy she sounded.

“That’s good,” he muttered, yawning. “Where’s Wakko?”

“Right here!” they said, dropping down next to dot. “What’s up?”

Yakko shrugged and started to stand. “Nothiiiin— Ow ow ow!” His sentence was interrupted by a sharp pain shooting through his back.

Dot and Wakko were at his side immediately as he fell back into the ball-pit. “Are you okay?!” Dot asked.

Yakko nodded. “I think so... My back hurts though...”

Dot crossed her arms. “It’s because you sleep in a ball-pit! That’s not a proper sleeping spot,” she scolded.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s fun!” He repeated the same thing he tells everyone. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna replace it anytime soon.”

Wakko huffed. “Yakko, you’re hurting yourself!” they cried, flailing their arms around. “If you won’t get a new bed, at least sleep on the couch!”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not going to sleep on the couch! I’m fine where I sleep.”

“I can see the bags under your eyes,” Dot deadpanned. “Come on, Yakko! It won’t kill you!”

Yakko stood up slowly. “I’m fine see?” He was hiding the pain he was in, but his siblings could see right through him.

Wakko and Dot looked at each other before nodding. Dot ran behind him while Wakko stayed in front. Yakko knew what was coming but wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Wakko stuck out their arms while Dot knocked his knees out, making him fall into his sibling’s arms.

He yelped as he fell and Wakko dragged him to the couch. “Wakko, put me down!” he cried.

They didn’t listen, they just kept walking until they dumped him on the softer sleeping area. “Sleep well, brother!” they said as Dot dropped a blanket on him and stuffed a pillow under his head.

“W-wait! We have an episode to film!” Yakko argued. He tried to get up but Wakko pushed him back down. “Come on, sib! Let me up!”

Both Warners shook their heads. “You need rest!” Dot told him. “So you’re going to sleep before this episode. And no buts,” she added as Yakko started to object.

“Fine,” he muttered, rolling over. He wouldn’t say it, but he was thankful. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Wakko turned to Dot as soon as he was out. “We gotta do something about that bed,” they said.

“Agreed,” she muttered. “He’d be mad if we changed it to a real bed, so what if we replaced the plastic balls with something softer? Like memory foam balls?”

Wakko smiled and nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Let’s get to work!” They ran out of the water tower with Dot following right behind.

———

Yakko woke to the sound of giggles. Sitting up slowly so he didn’t hurt his back, he looked for the source of the sound. He spotted Wakko and Dot and gave them a lazy smile. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

Dot looked over. “You’re awake!” She ran over and hugged him. “Good morning!”

Yakko hugged her back. “Good morning. What’s so funny?” he asked again.

Wakko walked over. “It’s not exactly a joke, but we did something for you!” they said, smiling.

“What did you do?” he asked, suddenly serious. Usually when his siblings did something for him it didn’t end well.

“Nothing bad, we promise!” Dot told him, pulling back. “In fact, we think you’ll like it!”

Yakko nodded and started to stand. “Then lead the way.”

Wakko started to run over to the ball-put with Dot right behind. It took Yakko a little longer to get there since he didn’t want to hurt his back, but eventually they were all standing in front of Yakko’s bed.

“Ta-da!” Dot waved her hands in front of the ball-pit. “Notice anything different?”

Yakko looked at it for a long time before shaking his head. “I got nothin’. What did you do?”

“We replaced the plastic balls with softer ones!” Wakko blurted. They were too excited to keep their mouth shut so they kept going. “Now you should be able to sleep without hurting yourself!”

Yakko looked down at the ball-pit and picked up a ball. Sure enough, the hard plastic was switched out for a soft and squishy material. He was shocked to say the least.

Dot stepped a little closer. “Do you like it..?” she asked.

Yakko smiled and pulled them both into a hug. “Yes! I don’t know why I didn’t do this before! Thank you sibs!” he cried, holding them tight.

Wakko and Dot sighed in relief and hugged him back. “It was no big deal,” Wakko said, trying to shrug.

“Yeah, we just wanted to help!” Dot added.

Yakko smiled a little wider. “Well you succeed, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Wakko and Dot said together.

Yakko let them go and stood up. “Now, what’s for breakfast? I haven’t eaten all day,” he said, walking to the kitchen. Dot and Wakko were right behind him.

For now, Yakko would go through his daily routine but later tonight? He was going to have the best sleep in a long time. And the best part about it all was his secret about the ball-pit was safe.

#animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animanics 2020 #animaniacs fic #tw back pain #eevee writes

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badwolfrunning · 4 years ago

Text

Ok. Fine. Have it.

If I've got the math right, Yakko is 20, Wakko's 16ish and Dot's 14/15

Yakko kept an eye on Dot for another few moments. Her romance with Skippy had been fleeting and remarkably short lived.

He’d returned to the house one day to an extremely upset Dot sobbing on the shoulder of a frustrated and confused Wakko and an exasperated Bugs.

His immediate instinct was to gather Dot into his arms and find out what the hell was going on. She went from clinging onto Wakko to clinging on to him. There was a comically large wet spot on Wakko's t-shirt.

Bugs gave him a knowing nod as he took over consoling his siblings and the rabbit left the room to give the kids some space.

As Yakko worked on calming Dot down enough to speak clearly, he heard Wakko mutter, “I’ll fuckin kill him,” Yakko couldn’t help but almost immediately share the sentiment. Wakko wasn’t exactly an angry toon. Whatever happened must have been bad. Before Yakko could ask, Dot finally spoke in a strained, waterlogged voice, “No you won’t. Nothing bad happened. We just,” her breath hitched again, “We just broke up!”

“Then why are you so upset?” Wakko threw his hands up.

“Wakko, stop." Yakko's expression was more pleading than his tone. "My question stands, Dot, what happened?”

She gathered as much of a breath as she could,

“I thought it would be fine.

I just….it’s not what I thought,” She took a deep breath, “the dating thing I...I just thought it’d be different and it wasn’t and I don’t not like Skippy," she sniffled, "I just...I...I guess I pictured things differently than they turned out? Nothing changed, it was like we were still just friends and I actually liked that more. So I-I told him and he agreed." She shook, holding back a sob.

"But we were supposed to go to the movies with Jane and Tal and Felix, so I asked if he was still going and he said he didn’t want to see me for a while. And I just” she started gasping in air, sobs threatening to escape again "I didn't want him as a boyfriend but I feel like I lost a-lost a friend and now he might never wanna talk to me again and it-it-it just hurts!”

Dot clutched her hand to her chest tumbling back into wracking sobs. Yakko held her close and started to sway gently, letting her let it out.

He sighed. Breakups sucked. But nothing particularly bad had happened. There was no bad guy here, no wrong-doing they just….ended it. And maybe Skippy just needed some space. Hell, he knew he would. His lips pursed together as he calculated next moves, or what to say to comfort her, when he heard Wakko call out,

“I’ll be right back.”

His brother’s feet nearly pounded up the stairs and Yakko turned his attention to Dot. Sitting her down on the couch with a pet through her hair, he got up and got them both some water and Dot a few more tissues.

“Thanks.” she said in a small voice when he returned. She was practically tucked into the corner of the couch. He hated when she acted small.

She often acted cute but small was different; small was defeated and weak and sad. His sister was an incredibly powerful young woman and even when she was using her adorable sweetness to get what she wanted, there was always an air of awareness or strength behind it.

Right now, she was just so small. He sat beside her and offered a hug which she quickly accepted melding herself against his side. A few moments of silence and sniffling past.

"I'm quite proud of you, you know. You handled your first breakup pretty maturely."

"Huh?"

"I know it doesn't feel like it, but telling Skippy how you felt, about how things weren't working out, is a mature way to handle things. Better than continuing to pretend like everything's perfect until something better came along."

"Yeah. I guess."

"And, I can't speak for Skip but girls like you don't come around everyday. I'm sure he still wants to be your friend. He just might need a bit of space, clear his own head. I mean, I'd be pretty bummed too if I blew my chance with an incredible young woman like you."

Dot didn't respond, just continued holding his arm and staring off at the distance. He knew she was listening. He placed a chaste kiss on top of her head.

“What do you say, we rot out our brains a bit, sister sib?,” she nodded he flipped on the TV, some old Looney Tunes started playing. It wasn’t brilliant but it was silly enough to calm Dot and her vice grip on his arm loosened some.

About halfway through a segment, Wakko stepped in lightly with something in hand. He stood in front of their sister, and handed Dot a bowl and spoon.

Ice cream.

Dot sniffled, “Thanks, Wakko.” Snuggling back into the couch and Yakko’s side, Wakko sat on her other side.

“Guess it’s all I can do for now,” Wakko shrugged then nudged her, "since you won't let me kill him."

Dot smiled and pushed him back.

Dot took a few bites of ice cream, offering to share a bit with Wakko who declined. A sure fire sign that he was still upset. They sat in silence, watching cartoons for a short while. Soon enough, empty bowl sitting in her lap, Dot leaned her head against Wakko’s shoulder.

Softly, she spoke again, coming back into her own voice, “Who needs boys when I’ve got the best brothers in the world,” earning her a grin from Wakko and a head scratch from Yakko.

"We could just fight them off with a stick for you,"

"Nah, mallets are more effective,"

"Says you!"

Dot rolled her eyes as her brothers argued the best ways to scare a guy off. She didn't feel fully ok yet but she trusted Wakko and Yakko to have her back.

Everything was going to be fine.

#animaniacs #this is so dumb #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animaniacs 2020 #idk if this will even be in the actual fic #but I needed to know how the scene went down #so #here #bonds #animaniacs bonds #bonds animaniacs #warner sibs #the warner brothers #and the warner sister #breakup #breakup conversation #breakups suck

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

Note

Can you write a follow up on your "all the yeerks suddenly die" au?

[Follows from this AU; all you have to know from that one is that all the yeerks suddenly died somewhere between the events of #19 and #20.]

Three days after a military scientist officially confirms that the strange new sinkhole beneath the California mall was put there by an extraterrestrial intelligence, and that multiple area teenagers have been leading a resistance movement, the paparazzi descends upon the high school. They’re not allowed to cross onto school grounds, but that doesn’t stop the whole flock of them from mobbing the drop-off line, hoping for any further information on the infamous child warriors.

They’re destined to be disappointed. Even armed with extensive rosters detailing the rumors about who was and was not involved in the war, there’s no footage to be had of any of the Animorphs entering or leaving the school.

“I feel like a damn drug mule,” Jordan grumbles as she dumps the contents of her backpack on the locker room floor. Two roaches skitter out from among the books and clothes, and immediately start demorphing. “I have to take my own stuff to school too, you know.”

“Sorry,” Cassie says as she finishes the morph. “And thanks for the ride.”

“You’re not the problem.” Jordan hands over Cassie’s jeans and sneakers, and then pointedly shoves the remaining pile of stuff — skirt, blouse, leggings, socks, bra, platform boots, makeup kit, hairspray — toward Rachel.

“It’s not a crime to want to look good,” Rachel sniffs, grabbing the hairspray.

A week later Rachel flings herself into the chair across from Chapman’s desk, tilting it back on two legs. “Long time, no see. What’s the damage this time?”

It seems to take an age for him to look up from the file on the desk in front of him. “Bailey Matthews is being checked for concussion,” he says at last. “No word from the nurse yet.”

Rachel blows her bangs off her face, exasperated. “Not him, me. What’ll it be? Three detentions? Four detentions? Let’s have it.”

Chapman folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “Given this is your third disciplinary action in less than a semester, it’s an automatic suspension. Effective immediately. I’ve already contacted your guardian—”

“What? My mom’s a civilian, you can’t just—”

“You attacked a fellow student. I can do what I deem necessary to keep it from happening again.”

“So you called my mommy to tell her what a bad girl I’ve been?” Rachel sneers.

“So I talked Principal Walsh down from expulsion,” he says quietly.

Rachel’s mouth falls open. “Expulsion? What the fuck.”

“You have, inarguably, ‘demonstrated a consistent pattern of violent behavior.’” Chapman reads this last off the file in front of him. “I argued that your exemplary GPA and clean disciplinary record up until this last year are evidence that this pattern arises from an undiagnosed stressor outside the school environment. I have already contacted one of the counselors in the school’s network, and recommended that you talk to Dr. Irvine twice a week at minimum.” He looks up at Rachel. “She was a controller too. It was the best I could do.”

“You think I need therapy?” Rachel demands. “You think I’m off the rails?”

“Rachel...” Chapman takes a breath, and then another. “You’ve been forced to grow up too quickly, with no guides. You’ve been asked to assume a burden that can and has killed men twice your age from the stress alone. And you’ve had to do it without any of the social or structural support that actual military personnel would have. That is, in essence, the definition of complex trauma.”

“And if I refuse your headshrinker?”

“Fine.” He makes a note in the file. “You’re suspended an additional two days. If that’s what it’ll take to cool you off.”

Bang. Rachel’s chair falls upright as she stands. “You think you scare me? Huh?”

“Sit. Down.” Chapman shoves to his feet as well.

Rachel’s chin comes up. “Or what?”

“Or we’ll continue to escalate,” Chapman snaps. “Until you morph and smear me across the linoleum. You’ll have to kill me, but you’ll find a way to cover that up. So there will be no real consequences for your actions, as usual. Is that what you want?” He’s practically shouting by the end.

Rachel stares at him. Eyes wide. Face pale.

Chapman takes a step back from her. He sits back down, breathing hard, clearly fighting his own temper. “I didn’t ask for this job,” he says quietly. “The yeerks just placed me here. But the fact remains that it is my responsibility to look out for all of the students in this school, Rachel. All of them. I want to help you, but I need to help Bailey and all the others as well. So if you’re going to continue to be a threat to the safety of my students, then you can you can either shape up or get out. Do I make myself clear?”

Without a word, Rachel whirls around and shoves out the door.

“Jaaaaake,” Tom calls down the stairs, a distinct sing-song quality to his voice, “your girlfriend’s on the phone.”

Jake runs for the phone, pulling it away from Tom. “Cassie?” he says breathlessly.

“Rachel too,” Rachel says from the other end. “Actually, you should loop Tom in. This concerns him as well.”

Jake switches on speakerphone, setting the phone on the end of the bannister. Tom gives him a questioning look; Jake shrugs.

“We just got done telling my parents about everything,” Cassie says into the phone. “Now that everyone knows about the yeerks, it seemed like time.”

“We’re off to tell my mom next,” Rachel weighs in, voice tinny. “I’m the one who suggested Cassie spill the beans. Obviously our sibs and Marco’s parents already know, so it was just a matter of time.”

Jake takes a deep breath, staring at the ceiling as if imploring it for patience. “You do remember the part where we all agreed we’d decide as a team when to tell the parents, right? And you remember before that, when we voted to wait until we got official confirmation that the yeerks were all dead before doing anything reckless? Because I seem to recall that that time you also went haring off and told Tom about us all being Animorphs.”

“Told you he wouldn’t be happy,” Cassie says quietly.

“Rach, quick question.” Tom leans close to the phone. “Actually, two questions. First, is he always this bossy? And second: if so, how did you go this long without strangling him?”

“Oh, shut up,” Jake mutters.

“See?” Tom raises his eyebrows. “Bossy.”

“Anyway, we wanted to give you a heads up,” Cassie says, too diplomatic to respond to that directly. “Because if we tell Rachel’s parents, yours are going to find out pretty soon.”

“Cool,” Tom says. “I’ve been saying we should tell from the start. Jake can take care of that.”

Jake’s mouth opens halfway in indignation. “Why just me?”

“Mom, Dad.” Tom addresses thin air. “You know how my grades have taken a nosedive this last quarter? It’s not my fault, because I was mind-controlled by aliens. Aliens that have since mysteriously disappeared.” He widens his eyes. “No, I’m not lying to get out of being grounded, and I can’t imagine why you would ever think that.” He looks at Jake. “See? I don’t even believe myself.”

“He has a point,” Rachel says.

“Whereas you...” Tom points at Jake. “Just go ‘Hey guys, look what I can do!’ And then...” He makes a gesture that is probably meant to convey morphing. Either that or that he’s attempting to give himself the heimlich maneuver. It’s a little unclear.

“Fine.” Jake rolls his eyes. “But you have to be there to back me up.”

“Bossy,” Tom whispers loudly.

“Bossy,” Rachel agrees, in an even louder whisper.

Marco goes on a date with Bethany Stevens. It ends abruptly when she asks him if he knows anything about the alien stuff that’s been all over town, and doesn’t believe him when he announces that that has nothing to do with him and even if it did he wouldn’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid, he’ll think later, to panic over being outed by a random civilian. But paranoia doesn’t disappear overnight, even if apparently yeerks do.

“Um. Hi.” Tobias stops in the door of Chapman’s office, left hand wrapped around his right elbow. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes.” Chapman sets a slim envelope on his desk. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be delivered, but Warren DeGroot thought it best to waive...” He cuts himself off. “It’s your father’s will. I ended up with it because the yeerks read it — illegally, sorry — and immediately went looking for you.”

Tobias doesn’t step into the room. He stares at the envelope. “My father’s dead?”

“Yes.” Chapman shifts in place. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

Tobias shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about him. Never even met the guy.”

“Actually...” Chapman shakes his head. He nudges the envelope closer to Tobias, who still has not made a move toward it. “Just read what he said, it’ll explain everything better than I can. It’s not much of an excuse, but I did think you already knew, given your closeness to Aximili.”

“He abandoned me before I was even born.” Tobias’s tone tries for apathy. “What’s Ax got to do with it?”

Chapman gestures at the paper. “Just read it.”

Tobias darts forward like a mouse entering an open field, snatching the envelope and retreating back to the doorway.

“Tobias!” Chapman says, stopping him in the doorway. “You’ll probably have questions. I’m not the best person to ask — I barely knew him for a few weeks, and I can’t claim we were ever friends — but if I can help at all...”

“Okay,” Tobias says. “Thanks.” And then he runs for it.

Tobias and Rachel walk each other to class. Tobias and Rachel kiss in the hall when they arrive for the day. Tobias and Rachel eat lunch together, leaning close to whisper to each other over a single shared carton of milk.

The rumor mill is appalled, of course. What’s she doing with a guy like that? Rachel’s the most popular girl in the ninth grade, and Allison heard from Brady who heard from Juan who knows for a fact that she had no less than four requests to go to Homecoming with various guys. One was even a tenth-grader.

And yet she’s not holding hands with that tenth-grader. Nope, she’s letting herself be seen in public with that new kid, the weird one. The one who hunches his shoulders when startled and actually hissed at Andy Mitchell last week. The one who’s always staring way off into middle distance, never paying attention to where he’s going. Yeah, that new kid.

It’s the scandal of the century.

“...Jake?” Ms. Hanna is leaning forward over Jake’s desk, frowning down at him. They’re alone, the rest of his History class already having left at some point. He must’ve lost time again. Crap. He hates zoning out in the middle of class.

“Sorry.” Jake drags a shaking hand over his face, grimacing at the feel of fear-sweat on his skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, not pay attention.” It won’t be his first detention this month, and probably not his last.

“Are you back with me?” Ms. Hanna asks. Her tone is... gentle. Her pad of detention slips is still on her desk. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“Sorry,” Jake mutters again. “I probably missed a lot.”

“It’s just the Revolutionary War, you can catch up later.” She makes an impatient gesture. “Can I get you anything?” Her tone has softened again. “A glass of water? Do you want me to write you a pass for the nurse’s office?”

Immediately Jake shakes his head. The school nurse is a civilian. Ms. Hanna, it’s becoming obvious, is not.

“How about I get your brother, then?” she suggests. “If you need to go home, it’s no trouble to write notes for you both.” She moves to put her hand on Jake’s arm, but stops when he flinches at the motion.

“Could...” Jake breathes in, then out. The trembling will be gone soon, he knows. “Could I just sit here for a minute? Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Ms. Hanna takes several steps back, giving him space. “Of course, honey. Take all the time you need.”

«You wished to see me, Prince Alloran.» Ax stands at attention in the middle of the incongruously cheery-looking park, doing his best to ignore the gawking humans on the playground down at the other end. He can’t imagine why Alloran wanted to meet here.

«There’s no need for formality, Aximili, we both know you have far more combat experience than I do.» Alloran makes a dismissive gesture.

Slowly Ax lowers his tail. «What is this about, sir?»

«That was commendable work with the human radio telescope, Aximili. It has successfully intercepted signals from the andalite forces from as far away as the Anati homeworld.» Alloran’s tone is careful in a way Ax does not like. As they speak, circling the park, Ax can feel all eyes following them from all sides. «Including a few highly encrypted, deeply euphemistic allusions to a mission that took place two local months ago here on Earth.»

«Andalites?» Ax asks sharply. «Here?»

«Not a counter-invasion, of course. A small force of war criminals, not officially recognized or endorsed by any authority, all of whom were declared dead before the mission even began. A force specifically designed to keep the War Council’s hands clean.»

«A Suicide Squad?» Ax suggests.

Alloran makes a gesture that Ax interprets to mean sounds like some human nonsense I haven’t bothered to learn about, and keeps going. «All four were meant to have died, by their own tails if not in battle. That way, they could never speak a word of their mission to anyone else.»

«Their mission,» Ax repeats. He has a horrible suspicion about the nature of that mission, given the timing — mere days before the death of every yeerk on the planet.

«Aximili, I called you here to meet the architect of the yeerks’ demise. The creator of the second quantum virus we have now deployed in this war, one far more monstrous than anything even I could have devised.»

Alloran whirls faster than any human can react, tail bullwhipping through the air to stop millimeters from the throat of an ordinary-looking human girl. Several people cry out in surprise, but the girl just looks calmly up at him. “Prince Alloran,” she says.

«Estrid-Corill-Darrath,» he answers. «My brother must have been so proud.» This does not sound like a compliment.

«You must be very skilled, to have made a hybrid morph so soon,» Ax says. «But you have a lot to learn about pretending to be a human.»

Estrid begins to demorph. She never takes her eyes off Alloran, and he never moves his blade away from her throat. «I ended the war,» she says flatly. «You’re all very welcome.»

«Truly,» Alloran says, «It is an honor to be standing in the presence of the greatest mass murderer in all of history. One who lacked even the courage to die for her sins. You have surpassed me in every conceivable way, aristh.»

Estrid makes a sharp, dismissive gesture with her own tail. The closest human equivalent Ax can imagine is if she had spat upon Alloran’s shoes.

«What do you mean to do with her?» Ax asks. If she actually did what Alloran accuses — unleashed a virus deadly enough to annihilate the yeerks — then he finds himself torn between disgust and awe. But that doesn’t mean he wants her dead.

Alloran tilts his head in consideration, and then drops his tail. «She can live. If I’m to be stranded here the rest of my days by the Electorate’s ruling, then she can endure the same. Killing the architect of this massacre would be folly. If the virus mutates enough to jump hosts...»

Ax shudders from stalk-eyes to hooves at the thought.

«...then she’ll be best equipped to do something about it.» A cruel smile creases the corners of Alloran’s eyes. «Besides, I think it’s safest for all involved if she’s confined to a primitive planet like this one, kept well away from any technology she could use to incite further mischief.» With that, he turns and disappears into the trees.

Ax and Estrid stare at each other for the long, silent moment that follows. «Will it mutate?» Ax says at last.

«The odds are infinitesimal!» Estrid snaps. «Otherwise I never would have —»

«Killed an entire species?» Ax suggests. «Were you aware of the Yeerk Peace Movement?»

She snaps her tail dismissively. «A handful of token resisters does not make up for an entire empire’s worth of evil, Aximili. And the virus did the killing, not me.»

Ax stares at her for a very long time. «I will not tell the humans about you, if the virus does not mutate,» he says at last. «But I also don’t think I ever want to speak to you again, Estrid. Goodbye, and be well.»

He thinks she calls after him. He doesn’t answer, only runs faster and focuses harder on beginning to morph.

“No, leerans are the aquatic ones that read people’s minds,” Jake hears Tom say from downstairs.

“I thought you said that yeerks were aquatic and read minds,” his mom responds.

“No,” Tom says. “I mean, yeah. But yeerks swim around in kandrona or in brain juice. Leerans swim around in oceans.”

“And they shapeshift?”

“Those are andalites. Andalites are the morphers. You remember Ax? Ate an entire pie in one sitting while pretending to be Jake? Andalite.”

“So Jake became an andalite?”

“No, an andalite became Jake.”

“I thought you said that was because a yeerk became Jake.”

“No, a yeerk was inside Jake’s body. So they had an andalite pretend to be Jake.”

“While a yeerk was also pretending to be Jake?”

“I guess. Look, Mom—”

“So this yeerk morphed Jake, and then—”

“No, the yeerk was inside Jake’s brain. He had control of the original Jake. And then Ax acquired Jake’s DNA, then became a copy of Jake.”

“And he controlled it?”

“Uh. No?”

“But then... Tom, I thought you said that yeerk was controlling you. Did it make a copy of you too?”

“What? Nobody morphed me. That I know of, anyway. Yeerks can’t morph.”

“I thought you said humans can’t morph either. Does that mean Jake’s an andalite because he can morph now?”

“No, he’s just an Animorph.”

“And that’s its own species?”

“Don’t I know it. But no. Animorphs are dumb kids in spandex. Andalites are the ones with the tail blades.”

“Oh, and all the spiky horns?”

“No, those are hork-bajir.”

“Hork-bajir, like the aliens who attacked the Gardens that one time?”

“Those were yeerks that attacked the Gardens. They were using hork-bajir as hosts, but it was a yeerk attack.”

“Because the yeerks acquired hork-bajir DNA?”

“Mom...”

Jake considers going downstairs to attempt a rescue mission. Then he remembers Tom contributing almost nothing to the entire conversation where Jake explained the war to their parents, and decides against it.

When Jake and Marco walk out of school at the end of the day, Eva’s leaning casually against the hood of her car at the front of the pickup line. She scans the lines of kids with studied nonchalance, carefully ignoring the frantic whispers of the clusters of parents who stare at her from their own patches of sidewalk. Someone must have told the flock of reporters who she is, because six or seven of them are shouting questions at her from their side of the school fence. She doesn’t appear to have noticed them.

But Jake knows enough about Marco’s knack for showmanship to know that he comes by it naturally. He also knows Eva well enough to notice that she’s smirking just a little, underneath her impeccable makeup. She’s just here to pick her kid up after school, and she’ll probably swear that on her own grave... but she’s enjoying herself as well.

The My Other Car is a Blade Ship bumper sticker on the back of her minivan is new. As is her updo.

“Is she trying to embarrass me?” Marco groans.

He doesn’t fool Jake either. Mostly because he’s grinning from ear to ear, and there’s a catch in his voice. His mom is home. His mom is home.

Drake Zahn is the only one who comments directly to Marco about how apparently his mom ran off with the pool boy and had to fake her own death just to cover up the scandal. Actually, Drake gets halfway through a comment to that effect before there’s a resounding thud from three lockers down. Tom Berenson has just dropped an eighty-pound weight on the locker room floor, and now props a foot against it as he watches them both with an expression of mildest curiosity.

Behind Tom stands a red-haired kid named Bill that Marco mostly only knows from Sharing recruitment posters. Bill’s surrounded by a loose cluster of kids, some older, some younger. Together, they represent a decent subset of the clique that people have taken to calling the Sharing pack, for lack of a better explanation for how they all started hanging out together. Three months ago, Marco would’ve just referred to them as the controllers.

“Do you have a problem?” Bill asks quietly.

“What?” Drake looks from one of the Sharing kids to the other. They all look back at him, most terrifyingly blank-faced. “No, no problem.”

“So you’re just being a dick, then,” Tom comments.

“I don’t...” Again, Drake looks around at the circle of ex-hosts. “I...” He turns and leaves without another word.

After a second, so do most of the no-longer-controllers. None of them acknowledge Marco directly.

“Dude,” Tobias says later, after telling Marco about an eerily similar incident. “Did we, like, join the Sharing without meaning to?”

Marco shrugs elaborately. “Man, I think the Sharing joined us.”

Cassie startles, hastily trying to wipe her cheeks, when someone wrenches open the door of the janitor’s closet and dives inside. It’s too late; Tom has already slammed the door shut behind him and turned to see her. Tear tracks and all.

“Oh, shit,” he says. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. Sorry, I...” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Do you mind if I stay just for a second?”

Cassie wipes her eyes again. “It’s okay,” she says hoarsely. “It’s a mop closet, I think anyone can use it.”

Tom sighs in relief. “Honestly I’m sorry to intrude. I was hiding from Ms. Paloma, and I didn’t realize you even knew about this place.”

“Knew about... a closet?” Cassie’s actually glad he’s here, even if she’s a little embarrassed to be caught crying. It always helps to have someone else around, so that she doesn’t have to be alone with her own thoughts.

“Oh.” Tom steps forward and shoves aside one of the rows of shelves in demonstration. The secret door behind leads to a staircase that winds straight down into a very familiar-looking set of tunnels. “That’s what I meant. Better hiding place to cry in private than a closet. Not that you have to, because you had the closet first. But crying is healthy. Or I guess feeling things is healthy? And so if you want to go feel things, I can just... stay here.”

Cassie smiles. “I don’t mind the company,” she tells him. She accepts the awkward hand that he offers her, stepping down the first several stairs with him. Tom shuts the door behind them.

By silent agreement they sit down on the stairs well before reaching the first bend of the staircase that might bring the main Yeerk Pool cavern into view.

“Do you... want to talk about it?” Tom asks softly.

Cassie doesn’t say not to you of all people, because that’d be rude. Instead she takes a stab at getting him to understand. “I lost a friend,” she says carefully. “In... everything that happened at the end of the war.”

“A... friend. Ah.” Of course he understands that she means a yeerk. “Someone who... was helping your side?”

She’s grateful to him for trying. “She was tired of the war, just like me. She wanted out, like I did. So she gave up on having a host ever again. Because I asked it. Because Karen — her host — needed it. She, uh...” Her voice breaks. Dammit, here come the tears again.

Tom lets her cry for a while. He digs around in his pockets, coming up with a crumpled napkin that he gives her.

Cassie sniffs into the napkin, trying not to dwell too hard. “So why were you hiding from Ms. Paloma, anyway?”

Tom flushes. And then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a silvery flask. “She saw, she’s pissed.”

“You were drinking alcohol in the middle of the school day?” Cassie knows she sounds judgmental, but honestly. Of all the stupid things her classmates do, that has always seemed to be near the top of the list for stupidest.

“What? No.” Tom unscrews the cap and hands it to her.

Maple-and-ginger instant oatmeal. She recognizes the scent with visceral immediacy.

“Will that... make you impossible to infest?” Cassie asks. She doesn’t say stupid things like all the yeerks are dead, because she’s wearing her morphing suit under her clothes right now for exactly the same kinds of reasons.

Tom tilts a hand in the air in a so-so gesture. “It’d make me less attractive as a host, especially if I managed to down some in between...” He gives a self-conscious little laugh. “In between things going wrong and them going really wrong. Anyway, it makes me feel better, that’s all.”

“Feeling things is healthy,” Cassie says, smiling.

“Yeah, which is why I’m going to keep hiding down here until Ms. Paloma gets distracted and then...” Tom shrugs, laughing at himself again. “Move counties, change my name, and fake my own death to avoid detention?”

“Let me know how that works out for—”

The hidden door at the top of the stairs scrapes open. They both scramble to their feet, looking guiltier than they should.

Mr. Tidwell regards them both from the top of the stairs, expression very mild.

“I think I discovered the major weakness of this hiding place,” Tom whispers.

“The fact that half the faculty was controllers?” Cassie whispers back.

“Out, both of you.” Mr. Tidwell rolls his eyes. “Before the ceiling finishes collapsing and I have to fill out a novel’s worth of paperwork about your deaths. And if I ever catch you down here again, I will be forced to remember that instant oatmeal does technically fit the definition of a controlled substance by the way the School Board defines banned materials.”

“Sorry,” Cassie says, as they file back out into the closet.

“Just don’t do it again,” Mr. Tidwell says, and she could swear he’s smiling a little.

Someone from the U.S. government calls Marco’s house, looking for a defense briefing. Peter’s not sure if they want his son or his wife, but either way he politely assures the man that this is a wrong number.

“All right,” Marco calls even as he approaches Ax’s scoop. “What is this ‘regrettable purchase,’ and why are you and Tobias begging me to help with it during a perfectly good Saturday?”

«Well,» Tobias snarks, «it’s not like you had plans or anything.»

“I, for your information, was right in the middle of helping my parents install a second anti-aircraft dracon beam on the roof of our house.” Marco presses a hand over his chest. “Ergo, I do have more important things to be doing right now.”

«Wouldn’t a second dracon beam be redundant?» Ax asks.

“My mom’s only installing a second one because of the hissy fit the homeowners’ association threw over the first one,” Marco explains.

«Wow,» Tobias drawls, «I can’t imagine what their objection would’ve been.»

“Anyway, why’d you frantically call me here in the middle of the day to demand my hard-earned...”

Ax has slid the computer around so that Marco can see the screen.

“Holy shit,” Marco breathes. “Is that the real deal?”

«The picture is extremely poor quality due to the limitations of your human technology.» Ax makes a very human hand-tilty motion. «However, I can be approximately eighty-six percent certain that it is, indeed, a morphing cube.»

“And this guy ‘DavidCobraLord’ is just... selling it on Ebay. For forty bucks.” Marco sits down hard on the ground. After a second, he grabs the computer and yanks it closer to himself. “What is he, nuts?”

«Yeah,» Tobis says, «he could totally get fifty for that thing.»

«The question is, can you afford to purchase it?» Ax asks.

«We may have, slightly, placed a bid with funds we didn’t have,» Tobias says. «And now Ebay’s being a butt about asking us to actually, y’know, pay up like we said we would.»

“Yeah, sure, I got it. And just like that, we’ll have our very own morphing cube?” Marco hears his voice rising and can’t even care. “Damn. Do we have to give it back to the andalites?”

«What the War Council doesn’t know will not hurt it,» Ax says darkly.

Tobias and Marco both stare at him. He stares back at them both.

«We can keep it or dispose of it, as Prince Jake sees fit.»

«You okay, Ax-Man?» Tobias asks.

«I have been on Earth entirely too long,» Ax says. «And yet, I find I am reluctant to leave.»

“So don’t.” Marco pulls the computer close to him, setting his dad’s credit card on the keyboard to begin typing out numbers. “Our door’s always open. Go visit the folks at home, come back and visit us. Don’t choose, and if anyone tries to make you then whack ‘em with your tail.”

«Yes,» Ax says solemnly. «I believe I just might.»

“I heard about what you said to Tobias.” Rachel shoves Devon up against the row of lockers, hard. “You want to repeat it to my face, or do you want to keep being a wimpy little twerp about it?”

Devon holds up both hands, eyes wide. “Get ahold of yourself, you psycho!”

“What did you call me?” She leans in close, vision tunneling with rage. “What did you just—”

Someone grabs her on the arm. Rachel doesn’t think, just spins around and punches with all of her strength.

Cassie staggers back, clutching her nose. There’s already blood starting to seep from between her fingers.

She and Rachel stare at each other in silence for a second. When Cassie starts to say something, Rachel shoves roughly between her and Devon and storms off down the hallway.

She doesn’t even fully register the trip down the stairs and across to the main office, every muscle clenched tight like a fist. Other bodies impact hers, and she keeps charging forward anyway.

When she reaches Chapman’s office, she shoves the door open so hard it bangs against the wall.

“Rachel?” Chapman’s voice is carefully neutral. He looks up from where he’d been in quiet conversation with the principal. Registering Rachel’s expression, he moves just slightly to place himself between her and Ms. Walsh. Which only steels Rachel’s resolve.

“I...” Rachel breathes in, gathering courage. “I think I need help.”

Chapman stands. He exchanges a glance with Ms. Walsh, who steps out the side door into the front office.

“That doctor, that therapist of yours.” Rachel tries to catch her breath. She doesn’t know why this is scarier than facing down an army of yeerks, but she’s never let fear stop her. “You said that I can talk to her? That she’d understand?”

“She can try, anyway,” Chapman says. “Dr. Irvine’s been holding an appointment slot for you since last month. I can get you in this afternoon.”

Silent, throat tight, Rachel nods.

He picks up the phone.

It’s something, Rachel thinks. It’s a start.

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seaofghouls · 4 years ago

Text

DUCKTALES OC INSERT

Ep 1: Woo-oo! A seagull flew from ship to ship, being chased off my fishers on the sea, until it landed on a specific white boat, being scared off by commotion inside the house. "Come on, hold still Uncle Donald!" Louie yelled, yanking his sailor uniform off as Donald squawked. "Good morning, Uncle Donald!" Huey said, cooking breakfast. "Hey, Uncle D." Valentine waved. "You can't wear this to your job interview." Louie put his uniform into the washer. "My uniform!" Donald cried as it caught on fire. "You gotta dress for the job you want. Not the job you have, which is no job." Louie said, holding up a suit. "That's true." The young adult standing next to him said. "Yeah, take it from the 18 year old." Louie said. "Huey, don't touch the stove. You'll get hurt." Donald scolded. "But it's a big day! And a big day calls for a big breakfast." Huey said. Huey held out a plate full of food to Donald as it seemed to deflate. "...Egh." Valentine groaned. "I'll get the iron!" Huey called out. Pulling the table out, it hit Donald in the head. "Stop helping me! Put on your life vests! What if the boat goes down while the babysitters here?" Donald scolded.

"Yes, Uncle Donald." The three of them sighed. "Why do we have to have a babysitter? I'm technically an adult!" Valentine argued. "I don't trust you enough to not burn the boat down." Donald said. "Fair enough." Valentine shrugged. "Where is that babysitter?" Donald grumbled. He called up the babysitter. "Well, what time can you get here?!" Donald groaned. The other caller hung up. "Where am I gonna find another babysitter at 10:00?!" Donald sighed. "10:00?! You gotta go!" The three ducks cried. Huey put the suit on Donald and the two triplets shoved Donald out the door. "Kids, I can't just leave you!" Donald said. "We can survive for a couple hours." Louie said. "A couple of hours.." Donald mumbled. "Well, okay, but just keep those life vests on." Donald said, walking away. Then the boat started. "What is that?" Valentine wondered. "Where's Dewey?" Donald sighed. "Sleeping." "Who's Dewey?" "Where is that little squirt, anyways..?"

Donald stormed back into the boat before coming out with Dewey and picking up the other two boys. "Val, in the car." He said. "You got it, Uncle D." She saluted. The triplets argued in the back of the car and Valentine sighed.

Donald typed a location into the GPS. "Destination: Mcduck Manor." "..Mcduck?" Valentine's eyes widened. "Mcduck Manor?! As in Scrooge Mcduck?!" Huey gasped. "The bajillionare?!" Dewey exclaimed. "You're finally gonna sell us." Louie said.

"I'm not gonna sell- He owes me." Donald sighed. The triplets started ranting about how awesome he is while Valentine slumped back in their seat. "You alright, Valentine?" Donald frowned. "The last time I saw him, I was like 7 or 8, and I never knew why I never saw him again. I just knew it had something to do with Mom. ..I'm scared, I guess." Valentine sighed.

"It's only for a couple of hours. We always have the boat, you'll be fine, alright?" Donald tried to reassure him. "Okay, Uncle D." Valentine gave a small smile. After a while, they pulled up in front of the manor as a car from behind honked at them.

Donald walked out of the car to meet Scrooge. "Donald Duck." Scrooge narrowed his eyes. "Uncle Scrooge." Donald narrowed his eyes. The triplets were freaking out while Valentine just twiddled her fingers. "So.. you're looking good." Donald said. "Still living on that boat?" Scrooge questioned. "Yep. Still a trillionare?" Donald asked.

They started arguing and Valentine sighed. The triplets looked out the window in awe. "Come on, kids." Donald said. The four of them got out of the car. "Huey, Louie, Dewey, meet Scrooge Mcduck. Val, you already know Scrooge. Remember, no tricks, no lies, no trouble." Donald said. "Yes, Uncle Donald." The four of them said.

"I wasn't talking to you." Donald narrowed his eyes at Scrooge. Donald left and Ms. Beakley let them in. The triplets followed Scrooge around, but Valentine wasn't that interested. "Hi, Ms. Beakley. It's been a while." She smiled. "Hello, dear. You've grown quite a bit." Beakley smiled back.

The kids sat down at the table and Valentine sighed, pulling out their phone, feeling awkward. "Talk to them." Beakley whispered to Scrooge. Scrooge groaned and kept reading his newspaper. The triplets were right next to him at that point. "So.. do children still like marbles.. or..?" He trailed off. The triplets loaded him with questions.

"Are you really our uncle?!" "How old are you?!" "What's your net worth?!" Valentine shut off her phone and laid their head down on the table. "What's the deal with you and Uncle Donald?!" "Oh, is this fork real silver? Can I have it?!" "How come you never visit?!"

"Because you're so old and moving is so hard?!" "You owe us, like, a LOT of birthday presents!" "You used to be a big deal! Whatever happened to you?!" "Beakley!" Scrooge called out. "I'll take care of it." She said, leading the boys off into a different area of the manor.

Scrooge looked back over at Valentine. He frowned, looking at them. He was their main parental figure until he and Donald cut off contact for 11 years. "So.. how have you been, lass?" He asked. "Okay, I guess. I've been looking for a job as a scientist, no luck though." She said. Scrooge hummed. "Well.. feel free to do whatever.. I've got some things to take care of." Scrooge said.

Valentine nodded. Scrooge walked off. Valentine sighed, thinking about what it was like before. They were a happy family. Now, things were different. ... "Ugh.. I gotta text Drake. He'll entertain me.. heh." Valentine laughed. The house shook. "What is that?!" Valentine cried.

They ran outside, seeing Scrooge being carried away on a golden dragon. "Oh my." They saw the triplets and Webby. "What the heck is going on?!" Valentine cried. "Get on the plane, big sib!" Dewey said. "Uh.. alright then." She went along with it.

As they were flying, they saw Scrooge falling off of the dragon. "Open the door!" Valentine ordered. The group grabbed hands to reach Scrooge and pull him in the plane. "Webby, how do we stop it?" Dewey asked. "It's mystical, so we'll need a mystical device. Like an oblivion mirror or a medusa gauntlet.. or.." Webby listed. "Like this?" Louie waved the medusa gauntlet. Webby and Huey glared at Louie.

"What? I was gonna give it back." Louie defended. The group devised a plan to use the gauntlet on the dragon. "Open the door, Pilot!" Valentine called out. Scrooge got hold of the dragon and it turned to stone, launching Scrooge up into the air. "Scrooge!" They gasped. He landed in the Money Bin and was fine. "Woo!" "Yeah!" "I knew it!"

"Family truly is the greatest- Oh no the ground!" ... "In the short time I've known you, you've wrecked my home and my money bin, unleashed ancient evils, and almost got me killed twice!" Scrooge scolded the 5 ducks. "Four times if you count each monster as an individual time." Huey corrected.

Scrooge laughed. "That was incredible! When you pulled me into the airplane and who would've thought of a medusa gauntlet? Brilliant! Oh, and you swung me out just in time! You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I missed trouble. I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on you to teach you how to get into trouble properly." Scrooge ranted. "Beakley! Clear my schedule. I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip." Scrooge said into his phone.

"About time, and once again, I am not your-" Scrooge hung up before she could finish. "Now! Let's go find the lost city of Atlantis." Scrooge grinned. They cheered. "And no one tell your Uncle Donald!" "Yeah!" They all cheered again.

---

#ducktales 2017 #dt17 #ducktales insert #ducktales #ducktales oc #oc #self insert

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dykehaus · 5 years ago

Text

Chromatica first listen reactions

Chromatica 1 - Orchestral opening, very cinematic like she threw a Hans Zimmer wig in the ring here for apparently no reason other than to maybe suggest a video game/scifi movie opening? I’m getting opening credits to a Square Enix game circa 2005 so. I’m good with it.

Alice - MY NAME. ISN’T ALICE. Straight into the dance beats… yes god. Verses may be forgettable and the lyrics/conceit of the song isn’t that interesting but I’m really loving the chorus sound and the modulated voice in the bridge - Judas teas!! Other than the bridge, kinda filler? Remains to be seen on second listen.

Stupid Love - I didn’t love this when it leaked or was officially released. I almost let the dumb video sour the potential of it. Is it the greatest song here? No it’s just as dumb as its video. But it’s actually more enjoyable when you just accept that it’s dumb and don’t try to fight against it. It’s got some crisp BTW B-side sounding production and corniness to it and we can get behind that! After school special pop. Not sorry, I’ll listen to Stupid Love.

Rain on Me - Has gay sex in public while this plays. Someone meanwhile smokes a cigarette in a Brooklyn warehouse and sips a matcha cocktail. Next.

Free Woman - KNOCK OUT in my opinion. Like an upbeat So Happy I Could Die I would argue… Also might be one of the lezzier items on offer here. Which is among my priorities in listening to any Lady Gaga output. You really get the texture of her vocals here and Gaga’s voice is one of her real selling points. There are no girls who make this kind of music that have her intonation. Periodt. I’m a Free Wuhman!

Fun Tonight - Is this the ballad? It’s not a ballad. It’s a dance song. But it has Gypsy from ARTPOP vibes. The Gaga equivalent of a torch song. This is the song you put on when you’re having a little early 00s white girl in a romcom sad montage moment and there’s certainly a time and place for that! This is definitely about Christian and for that reason I wish it were angrier lmao. (Fuck him)

Chromatica II - More moody strings! I definitely get more of a video game feel from this than cinematic necessarily. Feels like an album version of a cut scene.

911 - Heavy bass! Chanting robot voice! Would’ve given myself a wettie through the car speakers with this if I were still driving on the regular. This vocal is of kin with Madonna’s on Madame X. The lyrics here are GARBAGE but it might get the Heavy Metal Lover treatment where I’ll eventually love every bit of it.

Plastic Doll - This is Barbie Girl but played straight. Right now I don’t love that but given enough to drink I will think it’s transcendent art. She rhymed ‘saga’ and ‘gaga’! Someone will inevitably perform a genderqueer drag act to this.

Sour Candy - I don’t pretend to know actually anything about Kpop. Their presence here gives me unrelenting early 00s vibes. Is that a big reference point for Kpop groups? I have no idea. I think this one might have real commercial value considering the crossover event of it all. The production here is really just. fine. Capable. But I LOVE the Gaga vocal!! My favorite other than Free Woman thus far.

Enigma - She put some effort into the lyrics here! Thanks G! Killer, signature soaring Gaga chorus. The enigma thing is technically self promotion for her never-ending Vegas residency (which costs about a billion to attend). This has 70s disco sparkle to it and it’s really enjoyable.

Replay - (Shawty’s like a replay?). When the electro-hook kicks in here, I just want to get up and dance. This whole section of the album actually after Chromatica II (should we call it Act 2?) feels like it’s trying to ramp the energy back up after a dip. “Your monsters torture me!” Me looking up at my Fame Monster merchandise.

Chromatica III - OK like the cut scene before the final boss! My favorite of the three orchestral songs. Makes sense considering what’s to come in Sine From Above.

Sine From Above - FUCK. For me, the best song on the album on first listen. This has the most “narrative” and “build” as I would say in a reader’s report at work. Elton John actually brings even more gravitas to this. Let’s spell it out kids: W-I-G! Before there was love there was silence!!!

1000 Doves - It’s depressing me a bit how plaintive she is on this album. But somehow this song is still uptempo? Reminds me of the original version of Dope. But like, listenable. Much as we valorize ARTPOP was oddly prescient for its release year, there were legit duds on that album. Dope was one of them.

Babylon - You can serve it to me ancient city style! She said lemme ham it up real quick to finish this ditty off. The Lady Gaga equivalent of Liza Minnelli turns off a lamp. Gossip! Babble on! This is what I’ll put on to get dressed and, nostalgically, it gives me a little of Disco Heaven closing The Fame. This might start up shit with Madonna again like the good old days :)

OVERALL THOUGHTS: This is the most homogenous album she’s released since The Fame. It’s also one of the snappiest, smoothest listens as an album. Sometimes Gaga albums are better taken in bites... One of the upsides: that homogeneity makes it automatically more cohesive than say, Born This Way or even Joanne (cowboy crap aside). Do the complaints that she’s playing it safe hold water? Absolutely and that’s just as I expected. But this is the album she frankly needed to make at this stage. Just as Madonna needed to make Ray of Light when she did. After such massive and unexpected success basically under the guise of ANOTHER character (this one a basic girl in the Ally/SiB character), she needed to ease back into the Gaga machine.

BEST SONGS: Sine From Above, Free Woman, Enigma, Babylon

Anyway, I’m putting Sine From Above on repeat now!!

EDIT AFTER 24 HOURS: best songs are enigma, 911, babylon, and rain on me. and i stick by really enjoying sine from above in all its 2012 edm hangover in ibiza-ness. alice is really a grower on several listens. fun tonight, 1000 doves, and stupid love round out the bottom for sure.

#lady gaga #gaga #chromatica

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biwenqing · 5 years ago

Text

comfort

Nie Mingjue isn't entirely sure yet what Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen want from him, but he loves spending time with them. Luckily, over dinner at Lan Xichen's loft, they clear things up. Sequel to surprises.

For fytheuntamed on tumblr's untamed spring fest day twenty prompt: Fond

G | Words: 1626 | ao3

Nie Mingjue took a deep breath as he stood outside the door to Lan Xichen’s loft. This was the third Friday he had been asked by Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng to join them in watching bad movies. Nie Mingjue hadn’t quite understood the appeal. That was until he got to watch both Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng laughing to the point of near tears at special effects and characters.

Considering how closed off they both often were, Lan Xichen with his serene smile and Jiang Cheng with his slight scowl, seeing them both so open and expressive felt beautifully intimate. And if they were both willing to let Nie Mingjue see them like that, he wasn’t a strong enough man to say no.

He lifted his hand and knocked on the door. In his other hand, he carried the take out he had picked up on the way there. Nie Mingjue had insisted that it was his turn to buy dinner, and he just hoped the other two liked what he chose.

Jiang Cheng was the one to open the door, and he smiled at Nie Mingjue, stepping aside to let him in. He then relieved Nie Mingjue of the bag he carried, bringing the food into the kitchen while calling, “I hope you don’t mind, Lan Xichen brought some of his work home with him.”

Nie Mingjue slipped off his shoes, placing them carefully next to the door and trying not to pay any mind to the voice in his head that wished this could be his home. “I thought you worked as a vet, Lan Xichen?” he called as he turned to the couches that separated the living room from the dining area.

The sight that greeted Nie Mingjue was nothing he could have prepared himself for. Lan Xichen was sitting in one corner of the couch, knees pulled up, almost vanishing inside a large white sweater. He had glasses on, and his hair was up in a messy bun. That alone would have been a lot to process, but what made this somehow cuter was the fact that Lan Xichen was holding a tiny kitten, carefully bottle feeding it.

Lan Xichen looked over with a soft smile, and Nie Mingjue felt his heartache with fondness. “We had some orphaned kittens come in,” he explained and nodded towards the box that was beside him on the couch.

Nie Mingjue came closer, leaning over the back of the couch to see the box was softly lined and had blankets for the kittens to cuddle in. He counted five, six with the one that Lan Xichen was feeding. “They’re so tiny.”

“They are about a week old, some of their eyes have just started to open,” Lan Xichen said. He passed the little kitten bottle to Nie Mingjue. “Hold this for a moment.” He then began cleaning up the little kitten he held.

Jiang Cheng came back into the room, carrying plates and silverware. “I set the timer on my phone,” he said to Lan Xichen.

“We’ll have to pause the movie to feed them again,” Lan Xichen explained, looking apologetic.

“I can help with that,” Nie Mingjue was quick to offer. He reached a hand into the box and gently ran a finger along one of the kitten’s backs.

“That would be wonderful,” Lan Xichen smiled, leaning forward to set the sixth kitten back among its siblings. “If you and Jiang Cheng feed them, I can check their weight.” His hands brushed against Nie Mingjue’s own as the kitten settled and Lan Xichen took the bottle back.

Jiang Cheng reappeared then and Nie Mingjue retracted his hand from the box and crossed them behind his back. The take out boxes along with some glasses were added to the coffee table. “So, what do you think of Lan Xichen’s work habits?” Jiang Cheng’s tone was teasing and Lan Xichen was smiling fondly at his boyfriend.

“I think this can be forgiven,” Nie Mingjue said, raising a brow before a grin escaped.

The box of kittens were moved to their own chair, and Lan Xichen plugged in a little heated pad for them. He then washed his hands before returning to his corner of the couch so he could keep an eye on the kittens. Jiang Cheng settled on the other side of the couch which left the middle cushion the most obvious place for Nie Mingjue to sit.

And while it was also the place Nie Mingjue knew he wanted to be, he wasn’t sure yet if he was allowed to feel this want. His sib had tried to explain how clear it was that Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen were flirting with him. Nie Mingjue had focused on scolding Nie Huaisang for reading his text messages (how they had figured out his password he didn’t want to know), but their comments only made him question himself more. Nie Mingjue did not want to come between either of these two men and happiness. It was clear to Nie Mingjue how well Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng fit together.

“Thank you for making sure to get the extra hot sauce,” Jiang Cheng said over his shoulder.

Nie Mingjue decided it would be more awkward if he kept standing and moved around to settle in the middle of the couch. “You’re welcome. I thought you might need it because-”

“You made sure everything was mild enough for Lan Xichen,” Jiang Cheng said, taking Nie Mingjue’s hand to squeeze ever so briefly before he focused on selecting what he wanted from the boxes.

While Nie Mingjue’s mind was still trying to catch up with that, Lan Xichen leaned over and pressed a feather-soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being thoughtful,” he said, before turning to get his own food.

Nie Mingjue realized at that moment that Nie Huaisang had been onto something. Which really was too bad because that meant his sibling would pretend they weren’t smiling smugly behind their fan when they obviously were. He let out a sigh which brought both Jiang Cheng’s and Lan Xichen’s attention back to him.

“...Did we overstep?” Lan Xichen asked, looking at Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue shook his head, gently bumping his knee against Lan Xichen’s. “No. I just... I didn’t want to assume anything or cause any trouble.”

Jiang Cheng set down the things he was holding and reached out, retaking Nie Mingjue’s hand. Nie Mingjue turned and met his eyes. Jiang Cheng took a breath and said, “Then we should have been clearer. We hesitated because we don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured. But we were hoping that you might want to date us?”

Nie Mingjue felt he couldn’t be happier as the doubt that weighed on him lifted completely. Jiang Cheng’s directness was refreshing. “I would very much like that.”

Jiang Cheng smiled back, and while he pushed his confident front, Nie Mingjue caught some relief in the way his shoulders relaxed as well. “And not just because of the cute kittens?” The gentle teasing was back.

“I’m sure you also noticed there is someone who is cuter than a box full of kittens,” Nie Mingjue said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Lan Xichen.

Jiang Cheng leaned to the side so he could see Lan Xichen fully. His smile softened. “Yes.”

Nie Mingjue looked at Lan Xichen as well, even as he kept his hand in Jiang Cheng’s. Lan Xichen was blushing slightly and lifted his hands over his face. His sweater was so big though, the sleeves covered his hands.

“You’re only making more of a case of your cuteness,” Jiang Cheng said, leaning now against Nie Mingjue’s side. “Add that sweater to what a brilliant vet you are...”

Lan Xichen put his hands down and adjusted his glasses. The way he looked at Jiang Cheng was so fond. How they cared for each other only made Nie Mingjue realize all the more how he had been falling for them both.

Lan Xichen turned that same expression on Nie Mingjue and he found himself saying, “I want to kiss you.”

“Well that works out because I would also like to kiss you,” Lan Xichen said, and moved closer. It has been almost a decade since Nie Mingjue had kissed Lan Xichen, but it felt even more right as they did so now. It was rather chaste, but Nie Mingjue closed his eyes and leaned into it.

When they parted, they both looked at Jiang Cheng. There was nothing to worry about though because Jiang Cheng was smiling like the cat who got the cream. “How’s the mustache?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Xichen.

“I like it,” Lan Xichen reported back and Nie Mingjue felt his eyebrows raise.

“You have been discussing kissing me?” Nie Mingjue said. This was really his reality?

“Yes, now my turn,” Jiang Cheng said and Nie Mingjue was happy to comply. Jiang Cheng’s kiss was more demanding and left Nie Mingjue a little breathless when it ended.

“I know,” Lan Xichen said when Nie Mingjue looked back to him, his smile turning a little more heated. But he neatly dispersed any tension by asking Jiang Cheng. “Mustache opinion?”

“Agreed, very enjoyable,” Jiang Cheng said back.

Nie Mingjue just shook his head with a chuckle and began to get his own dinner together. “What monstrosity are we watching tonight?”

“Sharknado 5,” Jiang Cheng reported with a wicked smile. “We have watched the other four, so it’ll be interesting to get an outside opinion.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t argue with that, and settled back on the couch with his plate, sandwiched between his two boyfriends.

Oh yes, Nie Huaisang wasn’t going to let him live this down any time soon.

#untamed spring fest #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jiang cheng #mingxicheng #my fic #soft and fluffy getting together sequel!

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askbeelzebub · 5 years ago

Note

Make up your own - “...why are you doing this?”

Prompt: “...why are you doing this?”

Have some (mostly) hurt with some little bit of comfort!

———

Beelzebub was drunk. Beelzebub was very, very drunk. How they had gotten this drunk, they couldn’t quite remember, but it had started when they had realized it was their sons first birthday today and had ended with them curled up on the floor of their office, tucked underneath their desk and doing their goddamn best to disappear from the world. It wasn’t too successful, and the endeavors were squashed completely when they had thrown a glass bottle down in a sudden fit of rage, getting glass everywhere- including in their hands, which ached and burned. Which meant someone had felt it.

They hoped someone would come. They hoped they wouldn’t bother. They hoped somewhere, their kid was having a good day. They hoped their hangover wouldn’t be too bad.

But most of all, they really hoped the footsteps approaching them weren’t-

“Honeybee?”

Great.

They closed their eyes. Maybe if I pretend to sleep he’ll go away.

“I can hear you.”

...I am more drunk than I thought.

“Yeah, no kidding.” The figure kneeled next to them, revealing the only person who would ever dare to call them honeybee. Asmodeus, who was shaking his hand out slightly from second hand pain. They looked at their own hand. Bleeding a bit.

“...the hell did you do?” Az asked.

“Cut myself.” Beelzebub mumbled. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I got that much.” He waved his hand, and the glass on the floor disappeared. “Had a bit too much, honeybee?”

“Go away.” They reached for another bottle.

Az crossed his arms. “Ah, I don’t think so. You’re cut off.” The alcohol disappeared as well, and Beelzebub snarled. Suddenly angry again.

“You can’t tell me when I’m cut off!”

“Really? Because I just did.” Az looked unimpressed with their attitude. “Whats going on?”

“What’s going on is you’re interfering in business that isn’t yours!” They slurred out, buzzing angrily between words.

“I think my sibling sitting under their desk and crying, surrounded by broken glass, is definitely my business.”

“I’m not...” Beelzebub touched their face.

Huh. They were crying. They curled up a bit tighter, as if to hide from their brother. Impossible, of course. The princes were far too linked for that. A part of each other’s souls.

Az watched them for a bit, softening. “...I’m not mad.” He was clearly trying so hard to be gentle, but it just wasn’t a demons forte.

“Wouldn’t matter if you were anyway.” Beelzebub murmured, and then they wiped their face in their sleeve. “...it’s his birthday today.”

“Wh...” Asmodeus’ eyes widened. And then guilt, sharp and fierce, crossed his face. “Oh. Oh, honeybee, I...” He didn’t seem to know what to say.

That’s fine. Neither did they. They merely curled up tighter. Wishing they had more alcohol to drown their sorrows in, so they could stop feeling so fucking sorry for themselves.

Eventually, Asmodeus sighed softly, and moved out of their line of sight.

A thousand different emotions flashed through them. Almost relief, that they were being left alone, and a stab of hurt in their stomach that he had just left them there like that. Were they really that path-

Before Beelzebub could even finish that self deprecating thought, Az was back, this time with a lavender blanket by his side. He reached in and grabbed them, pulling them out from under the desk- somehow knowing instinctively they weren’t going to fight him. Sometimes the bond could reveal as many feelings as it did physical pain, or perhaps he had just known from experience, but nonetheless he dragged them out of their hiding place and moved them onto the couch before their drunken mind could catch up to what was happening. They blinked as he set the blanket over their shoulders and sat with them, pulling them against his side.

“You haven’t slept in weeks.” Az said matter of factly. Not that he knew this for sure, it was just an educated guess that happened to be fact. But they didn’t dispute it. “You need sleep. Go to bed, honeybee. I’ll keep watch, yeah?”

Beelzebub shifted. “I thought you were-“

“Well, I wasn’t.” He cut them off.

“...why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Beelzebub motioned vaguely to the blanket, and to the comforting arm he had around them. He shifted them to lay in his lap, using him as a pillow. They had done this often while pregnant, but of course, they had been near dying then.

Asmodeus took a moment to answer, but when he did, it was in a soft voice. “Because you’re my sibling, you idiot. Any more stupid questions, or are you going to sleep?”

“It’s not stupid.” They muttered. Hand still aching. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t. I don’t usually do the things I actually have to do, now do I?”

“I guess not.” Beelzebub was too tired to argue.

He brushed a hand through their hair. “Get some rest, honeybee. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Somehow, Beelzebub doubted it. But knowing he was here, made it a little better.

(( @ask-asmodeus-infernal-sib @ask-leviathan-infernal-sib @ask-warlock-dowling @ask-the-ineffable-being @ask-the-bringer-of-storms @ask-pepper-galadriel-moonchild @k-chips have some angst -Mod))

#beelzebub #good omens #asmodeus #my writing #writing prompts #the mistake #angst #bitch with the flies

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someobscurereference · 6 years ago

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What do you think the best and worst case scenario would be for the Trio having to reveal their true identities, time travel and all?

My best case scenario reveal is the war is over, the countries are at peace, everyone is happy, and the Trio just decides to go ahead and tell everyone because they want the mages to work on possibly connecting their worlds… worst case scenario: They’re at the final battle, everyone is injured or dead, and Anonkos remembers and calls those yhree put before summoning a revived Grima, who has a major grudge against them for the parts they played in his defeat

This is a super difficult question because there are so many different scenarios for this to happen, and they all can definitely go one way or another! I would say your best case scenario is pretty neat! Your worst case scenario, I’m not so sure about Grima literally coming back to life realistically in-game (Unless it was a post Awakening timeline where Chrom struck the final blow on Grima instead of Robin and the two worlds are connected somehow, which actually!! Would be the absolute Worst Ending for sure!! So I think you win there!)

Hmm. Best case scenario… Probably exactly what you said? The war is over, everyone is accepted, truth is revealed (and also believed!), and maybe there’s a chance the Trio can return to Nohr some day even though dimension travel is pretty difficult/the crystal the Trio has only works once. I like that a lot! I’m weak for happy endings with no real complications, lol

Worst case scenario! Again, I feel like there are way more scenarios were things could go very wrong than I can list here. And some of them would probably definitely be worse than anything I say here. But within the confines of canon, I think… Probably a scenario were the war is going badly/everyone is very injured, like you said. Or at the very least, they’re all in a tight spot. And the truth comes out one way or another, and it doesn’t go well! As in, Xander and Camilla are very upset, and perhaps Leo straight up doesn’t believe anything without evidence?

Because in canon, when Laslow implies that “Laslow” is not his real name, he’s not from Nohr, has no past, etc. Xander does not like that at all.

Laslow: Well, you may have a hard time of it then. There are very few footprints of mine in this world, and none of them are old. Besides, I don’t know where you’d start with a false name and fake appearance.

Xander: What?

Laslow: …

Xander: Laslow… Are you…

Laslow: … Just kidding! I got you, didn’t I?

Xander: So, you think it’s fun to play pranks, do you? Very well. It appears as though you require stricter disciplinary action.

Laslow: What?!

Xander: I had planned to end your confinement today, but I think a change is in order. You are to report to my chambers at dawn tomorrow morning.

Laslow: What?! Please, no!

Xander: The more you protest, the longer your confinement will be. Understood?

Laslow: Yes, milord…

Keep in mind Xander is using the Distressed Character Portrait during this part of the exchange. And these supports are basically all about Xander punishing Laslow for disobeying him/making Xander come across as foolish via Laslow’s behavior. So there’s a good chance if the truth was exposed poorly, Xander would not be very understanding of it. Especially if theoretically this information could have helped Nohr/Hoshido fight against Anankos in the Revelations timeline! That’s technically valuable information they kept secret. (Even if we, the player, know the Trio would really know next to nothing and it’s mostly only their origins they’re keeping a secret). At the very least, he could argue, the Trio should have revealed Valla’s existence sooner since they’ve had a few years pre-war to do so. (Which! There are a lot of reasons why they wouldn’t be able to do that! But I imagine these things are said in anger)

Same with Camilla! She’s very possessive of her loved ones, and again, if the truth were revealed poorly, she might not take very well to being lied to for so long. Camilla has a slightly similar exchange with Selena in her A-Support, though not quite as obvious:

Selena: Of course, Lady Camilla. I would never leave you without fair warning.

Camilla: And I can hold you to that, yes?

Selena: What a question! Do you think I’d lie to you about this? About anything?!

Camilla: Ohohoho…no, never.

Earlier in the support, Camilla makes comments about how devoted Selena is and how good of a retainer she is for Camilla. So Selena’s “Do you think I’d ever lie to you about this? About anything?” vs Camilla’s “No, never” is a double edged sword. Because though Selena probably isn’t lying about telling Camilla if she had to leave and is always working for Camilla’s best interests, Selena definitely is lying about her origins, appearance, etc. So combined with the inevitable hurt of being lied to + the strategic reasons Camilla might be upset listed in Xander/Laslow’s example, Camilla might react very much in line with Xander here!

Leo is a bit of a strange case in that he very specifically doesn’t care about his retainer’s pasts? I tried to find the exact dialogue for that, but I know it’s been said before that Leo couldn’t care less about who Odin or Niles were before they met him.

If Niles or Odin bring something up first (for example, Odin mentioning Risen, Niles talking about his own vague memories), Leo may ask something out of curiosity based on what they’re saying. But he never pushes and straight up doesn’t seem to care in the slightest so long as Niles and Odin do their current jobs well. So this puts him in a slightly different position than Camilla and Xander in terms of how he views Odin not telling him the whole truth/using a fake name and appearance.

However, keeping information about your past is one thing and keeping information about an unknown but real enemy/ways to conquer that enemy are two separate things. I’m sure Leo could be swayed by his own sibling’s feelings, plus the general frustration of the situation they’re in if it’s going badly.

My happy ending loving heart wants to say given a little while to cool off, everyone would eventually understand why the Trio did what they did and how they really couldn’t say anything/reveal to the sibs anything about anything for so long. But! If they were separated at all or things took a turn for the worse before any reconciliation could be had, the friction between the Trio and their lieges could definitely worsen the situation/make everyone feel like real shit all around. Especially if they straight up aren’t believed about some things! “You lied about your name, so how can I trust anything you say?” Even Leo may be in disbelief because Odin is already known for exaggeration and stories. So the humiliation of not being believed even after the anger subsides would definitely bite too!

tl;dr My Worst Case Scenario in canon is the Trio being faced with anger and disbelief at the truth inadvertently coming out

#my text #asks #fe14 #long post #worst case scenario #best case scenario

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