#but instead of backtracking i scramble forward just to get the thing finished

[fate-defiant]

ah fuck theres two of them

He did not, in fact, bag shit.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 6

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

EXTRA WARNINGS - this chapter is pretty much unrelenting whump and the violence and consent issues (past) tags strongly apply. I have put more detailed (spoiler heavy) warnings at the bottom so if you’re particularly sensitive to that stuff and want to scroll down to check before you read you can do so.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

In a tavern just outside of Leovan the crowd roars another! And Roman laughs and gamely starts to play another jig. He’s been playing for hours and he drinks in the attention happily, even as the cheers of the crowd become a ringing in his ears. The night is long and his throat is raw and his stomach empty and it’s harder and harder to keep his eyes focused, but his hands are steady on the strings. He sways in place, sweat dripping into his eyes, but it doesn’t matter- the crowd adore him. They sing and dance and laugh along, and after each set they call another, another, another until the room is spinning and his throat is bleeding and the audience’s laughter had turned cruel and high and lilting and-

Roman woke with a gasp and immediately regretted it.

The underground room was still pitch black, the humidity still cloying. At some point during his fitful sleep he had slumped to the floor, Lucius’ ill-attempt at binding having come loose enough to allow him to slide his arms down the length of the pipe. He was awkwardly sprawled at the base with his wrists still pinned above his head and his legs twisted underneath him. He tugged experimentally at his binding and got a sharp spike of pain down his shoulders and spine for his trouble. Whilst he had wasted time sleeping, the silk had become sodden from the moisture of the room and shrunk tight against his wrists, making even Lucius’ knotwork impossible to pull apart.

Not that it would have made much difference if he could get it loose.

Stay here until I come back with your transport.

Grunting with pain, he managed to untangle his legs out from under him and sit up. He pushed himself up on his knees as best he could, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his wrists, but gave it up quickly as the pain lacing down his shoulders intensified.

This was bad.

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think, but the heat was making it almost impossible. The black of the room kept swirling back in to crowded tavern, the rush of water into the jeers of a crowd…he could feel the raw burn on his throat and his mind scrambled desperately for another song-

Except it hadn’t happened like that. He shook his head furiously, his hair flicking sweat into the room, trying to banish the tavern from his mind.  He had already started traveling with the others by the time he sang in Leovan and if he’d tried to perform so late into the night Virgil would have come stomping down the stairs to tell him he was being ridiculous and to go and get some sleep.

Or Patton would have sat up listening, playing bodyguard, until he couldn’t keep his own eyes open and sweetly suggested that the crowd might want to be getting home to their own families.

Or Logan would appear, pocket watch in hand, demanding he finish within a set time frame in order to allow for optimal sleeping hours.

Roman could almost hear the lecture, relief at a chance to escape the crowd mingling with exasperation at the scholars ridged scheduling.

In the dark Roman glanced over to where he thought the door should be.

The only sound was the gentle hiss of water.

He tried pulling at the rope again.

***

“Hey! It’s you!”

The man blocking Roman’s path back to the ballroom was clearly drunk. He stumbled towards Roman, half leaning on the hallway wall for support, a big dopy smile on his face.  “I saw you- I saw you back there – wow!”

“Thank you friend.” Roman smiled brightly and took a step backwards, but not quickly enough to prevent the guy from grasping onto his sash.

“You’re so pretty.” The guy breathed, his eyes unfocused but his grip firm, “I saw you lookin’ at me when you were singin’.”

Roman squirmed. He was almost certainly better trained than his admirer, and he had had a lot less ale, but he was also shorter and skinnier. With the man pressed so close in the narrow hallway it was almost impossible to find the leverage he needed to push him off.

And. This was a nice place. And by the quality of the man’s clothing he was an honoured guest not a servant. Roman had been the one to convince his new companions to accompany him to the local lord’s house for the ball, he had wanted to give them to a chance to relax whilst he performed. He didn’t want to get himself, and them, kicked out by causing a scene- not when he was half hoping they would allow him to continue to travel with them even though the job he’d been hired for was done.

“I look at everyone-” he said, smile fixed and polite ”– engaging the audience is actually very important for-“

“Shush.” The man whispered.

Roman shushed. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

His assailant brought one hand up to paw at his face in a clumsy attempt at seduction, thick rings knocking against Romans jaw. His other hand released the bard’s sash to grip his wrist instead.

“Kiss me,” the man breathed, the stink of ale on his breath making Roman gag.

Face burning with mounting frustration and embarrassment, Roman attempted to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but the man twisted his head at the last moment to meet his lips with his own.  Pressing Roman back against the wall with a slobbering assault as he attempted to pry Roman’s lips open with his tongue.

Panic flickered in Roman’s belly and then just as quickly dulled. It was generally easier to let these things run their course.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on his mouth – and wrist and chest - was gone.

Roman blinked open eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut to see Patton with an expression so furious Roman had to fight the instinct to cower.

“What.” Patton snarled “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I di-didn’t mean to-“ Roman started.

“Well?!” Patton roared and Roman realised he wasn’t speaking to him – but rather the rich man who appeared to be rapidly sobering up in Patton’s grip.  The warrior held him by the scuff of his neck, his toes just scraping the floor. When Patton shook him, the plethora of chains around his neck clinked together musically.

“Roman,” Patton asked, his voice still shaking with an anger that made Roman draw his shoulders up instinctively “do you…know this man?”

“Well…no.” Roman glanced at the chains again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his heart rate started to return to normal “I think he might be the mayor though Pat, put him down!”

“I don’t care if he’s the King of the elves! Did you want to kiss him?”

“Well no, but – but its fine! These things happen!”

“You call yourself a Prince and this is how you carry on?”

Wait. What?

Roman blinked, feeling strangely hot in the cool hallway.

Patton wasn’t supposed to say that. Patton was supposed to ask what he meant. And Roman would backtrack and feed him some lines about people often feeling entitled to performers time off stage – which was not untrue – and Patton would look at him wide eyed and tell him that would never happen again –

“You’ve been told over and over, to keep yourself to yourself.”

- that Patton would stand guard at every performance from now on if that’s what it took.-

“If you insist on putting yourself into these situations, don’t come crying to me when the inevitable happens.”

-And Roman would be so elated at the implication that they were to keep travelling together that he would almost forget to feel embarrassed at the situation.-

Patton’s lips narrowed into a thin disapproving line, “Don’t be naive. You are far better off alone, Romulus.”

“Dad?” Roman whispered.

“He doesn’t look much like the Prince.”

“Oh, like you’ve seen him.”

“Well he’s meant to be handsome right? This guy’s not winning any contests.”

Roman opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Three men stood around him, illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp. For one wild moment elation flooded through him - his friends had found him after all!

And then their conversation registered and he scowled. Disappointment robbing him of a witty comeback to their insults.

Still. Let them travel almost non-stop for three weeks, spend a night standing out in the middle of a field whilst an old woman sang at herbs, march for five days through a forest - including a detour through he thickets brambles known to man- and then follow that up with an entire day wandering around the city, have two panic attacks and be left to sleep tied up in caller. And then see if they looked their best.  

With the gag still in his mouth, Roman’s attempt to covey this sentiment were mercifully muffled.

“I don’t know.” The biggest of the three stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Roman’s hair and yanking his head back painfully, abruptly cutting off his complaints. “I can kinda see it.”

“Be careful Niki,” the one who had first spoken whispered, he was holding the lantern and keeping well back from Roman. “His nibs thinks he’s got devils with him.”

“In here?” Niki cast a glance around at the iron cage of pipework that covered the room. “If he does they’re not coming out.”

“Still.” Lantern-boy whined.

“Well let’s test it.” Niki grinned down and Roman spitefully and released his grip on his hair. In one quick movement he had produced an iron dagger, not unlike Roman’s own, and pressed the flat of it to Roman’s cheek.

Roman stared at him.

“There you see? If was possessed he’d be screaming.” Niki said smugly and pulled his knife back, twisting it slightly as he did so, leaving a shallow cut along Roman’s cheek, making him wince.

“Careful,” lantern-boy said meaningfully “he’s still the Prince’s brother.”

“Oops.” Niki smiled cheerfully down at Roman. “My bad.”

“He needs to drink.” The third man stood far enough back from the lantern that Roman couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way the other two responded to his soft voice, their posture automatically stiffening.

“Here,” lantern-boy stepped forward after a moment, holding out a water skin to Niki  who rolled his eyes but reached down to rip the gag from Roman’s mouth.

Roman coughed, swallowing air greedily. His throat was painfully dry, all moisture sucked out by the silk, but he still hesitated when Niki held the skin up to his mouth.

“Listen to me.” He croaked “you-“

“Just drink it.” Niki snapped and Roman surged forward despite himself, swallowing a few precious mouthfuls before the skin was yanked away again.  

“You’re from Notaleveale.”  he whispered. “Right?”

“Obviously.” Lantern-boy muttered, taking the water skin back from his companion.

“Well then,” he drew himself up as much as he could, ignoring the pain the movement caused “ – as true men of The North I must implore you to assist me. The Marquis has been embroiled in some- some conspiracy of untruths, is perhaps plotting against the very crown itself and-“

“The Marquis de Orenlla couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag.” Niki snorted contemptuously.

Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Isn’t he your Lord?” he asked eventually feeling bizarrely offended on the Marquis’ behalf. Niki and lantern-boy were both wearing chest plates embossed with the three peaked mountain range that signified allegiance to Orenlla, the royal kraken of Notaleveale floating above. They were clearly guardsmen brought with Lucius on his journey south.

The third man, who hadn’t spoken since he mentioned Roman needing to drink, wore no identifying uniform.

“It’s not an insult.” Niki shrugged, “personally I prefer an employer too daft to organise a coupe.”  

Lantern-boy nodded in agreement, “It’s a, whatcha call it - a positive working environment, innt?”

“…alright.” Roman decided to change tactics. “I’ll double what he’s paying you.” This time both men laughed.

“With what?”

“Well, I. I’m still a Prince I’ll have you know -  I have many rich and influential friends who would gladly-“

“Oh really. Where are they then?”

There was an unpleasant pause whilst Roman desperately tried to get his brain to think. He was supposed to be more creative than this!

“You’re no Prince of ours anyhow.” Lantern-boy stepped a bit closer to glare into Roman’s eyes. “Traitor.”

Roman flinched back at the pure look of venom on the young man’s face.

Little fae touched traitor.

“Listen to me. Whatever you’ve heard – it’s not true. My father-“

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Niki surged froward, pulling Roman up by the neck of his tunic. Their faces were close enough that Roman could feel the spittle from the man’s mouth land on his cheek as he shouted: “After your despicable actions you would dare to-“

“Nicolas. Don’t upset yourself.”

The third man was barely visible to Roman over Niki- Nicholas’- shoulder, but as soon as he spoke the large man stilled, lowering Roman slowly back to the ground.

“Marcus. Some more light if you will.”

Lantern-boy -presumably Marcus– quickly produced a box of long matchsticks, almost tripping over himself in his haste to light more lanterns around the room. By the time he was done the room was brightly lit, the glow from each lamp bouncing off the metal pipes until it filled every corner.

The third man did not look especially Notalevealean, with skin almost as white as Virgil’s and pale white blond hair.  He was dressed plainly, with pale grey robes and soft shoes, and carried only a thin walking stick. If he hadn’t spoken, he could have quite easily faded into the background - camouflaged against the dull back drop of pipes.

“Nicholas. Marcus. Go and guard the passages.”

“But we already have a dozen men out there-“

“And I’m sure they’re in need of leadership. Go now.”

The two men glanced at each other. Roman thought for a moment that they would stand their ground, but then Marcus snatched up his original lantern and headed for the door, Niki following after one last reluctant glance back.

“W-wait.” Roman called. “Is my Father alive?”

They disappeared into the gloom of the next room.

Left alone with only the quiet grey man, Roman found himself wishing they’d stayed.

The grey man smiled at him as he shuffled towards the kneeling prince. His smile was an awful thing that did not touch his eyes.

“The young Marquis de Orenlla is a rather silly boy.” He told Roman in his soft papery voice. “Much like yourself.”

Despite himself Roman let out an offended squeak, but the grey man continued unhindered. “He has very little idea how to survive alone, can barely function without his servants.”

Roman caught himself staring at the floor and snapped his gaze back to the grey man’s face. He didn’t want to miss any information he might let slip but looking at him was-

It was difficult.

When he tried to look at the details of his face they seemed to slip away. Was he young or old? What colour were his eyes?

The whole time he had been talking, had his mouth actually moved?

“What are you?” Roman whispered.

The grey man smiled again, Roman shuddered.

“But also like you, he is not wholly stupid. He has started asking some inconvenient questions.”

Within the blink of an eye, the grey man was next to him a knife in his hand. Before Roman had a chance to do more than flinch, he had cut the ties biding his hands, and was back across the room.

Dazed, Roman rubbed his wrists, trying not to wretch.

Up close, the grey man smelt of death.

“Now. Sit there, and listen to me until I finish.”

Romulus whimpered.

“Your father is dead.” The grey man told him bluntly. “You killed him.”

“No.” Romulus- Roman shook his head. Used his newly freed hands to cover his ears. “He was sick.”

“You poisoned him over many weeks.” the grey man whispered. “Disguised it as a common sickness. You tried the same on your brother but he was too strong to succumb.”

Roman lowered his hands. They were pointless anyway- the grey man’s voice seemed to be inside his head.

“That’s not how his strength works!”

“And so instead, you allied yourself with a traitor to the fae court and placed a curse of madness on the crown prince, rendering him unable to rule. You hoped to take over in his place, but luckily your father’s advisors found you out. You were forced to flea with your fae companion.”

Roman stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s insane!”

“That’s the truth.” The grey man insisted. “When The Marquis asks you for the truth, that’s what you’ll say.”

“No.” Roman shook his head. “No, no, no.”

The grey man reached forward, resting his hand gently against Roman’s cheek. Romulus stared up into his eyes.

“Julius?” he whispered.

“In a way.” The grey man’s face seemed to twist. For a single moment, it was Julius’ face that looked disdainful down at him, rendering Romulus mute with terror. And then with another twist to reality it was gone, back to the grey man’s blank visage.

“I’ve had eyes all over looking for you Romulus. I was so sure you must have died in the mountains and yet –“ His fingers tightened on Roman’s face, nails digging cruelly into his skin. “Here you are. Like a little cockroach.”

With a shove he released Roman’s face and walked swiftly to the centre of the room, where the largest pipes rose out of the floor. “Stay on your knees and come here.” he ordered. Face burning, Roman shuffled after him, knees bruising on the stone floor.

“Put your hands here.” He gestured to one of the larger pipes. Even before his hands touched the surface, Roman could feel the heat radiating from it. It was far hotter than the one he had been tied to and although he braced himself he couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain when his hands made contact.

He snatched them back quickly, his palms an alarming shade of red. And without pausing, sprang to his feet, aiming a punch directly at the grey man’s immobile face.

“Stop moving.”

Roman felt his muscles lock, momentum sending him crashing to the ground as the grey man easily sidestepped his swing.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.” The grey man added, leaving Roman frozen on the ground where he landed.

Slowey the grey man stepped around him, crouching down by his head. “Look at me, Romulus.” Roman did so, only moving his eyes to stare at the flickering mirage of the grey man’s face.

Up close, the smell was so bad Roman felt the remains of his pastry threatening to make a reappearance.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to tell me the truth. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, Roman nodded. The grey man – Julius – whatever it was, had already told him what it wanted him to consider the truth. But even so, ‘tell the truth’ was an easy enough order to get around. Truth being in the eye of the beholder and all.

“And if you don’t, I am going to tell you to hold onto that pipe again, and I am going to tell you to keep holding it until I am satisfied with your answers. Do you understand?”

Roman swallowed.  He nodded again.

“Did you kill your father? Tell the truth now.”

“No.” he said quickly and then bit his tongue, cursing. Franticly he looked up at the grey man  “You, you said that was a truth for The Marquis, not for everyone I can’t just –“

“Raise your left hand.” the grey man said mildly. “Bring it here.”

Romulus felt tears of frustration and fear spring to his eyes. He was stupid for thinking he had a chance at this. Julius’ tests were never designed for him to pass.

***

Roman wasn’t sure how many hours passed before the grey man seemed satisfied.

Fortunately, he had methods of persuasion beyond just the pipe. When Romans’ left palm had become completely coated in blisters the grey man had handed him walking stick and instructed him to bring it down hard on his own back instead. And then his shoulders. The side of his face. His left palm.

The grey man never touched him himself.

He didn’t have any need to.

Whenever there was a pause between punishments he ordered Roman to stillness. Time which Roman happily spent fantasising, first of smashing the stick down across the grey man’s head, then of pressing his own eyes to the hot pipe.

Even if they took him home – he could not allow himself to lay eyes on Remus. That was the one thing he could not fail on.

“Did you kill your father?” asked the grey man.

“Yes.”

The stress of raising Romulus, of hiding the curse; there was no doubt he’d contributed to his fathers early death. It was true, at least to him.

“Did you curse your brother?”

“Yes.”

When he was a little boy there had been a phase where he tried to put a curse on Remus daily, and Remus him. The kind of curses they dreamed up were for itchy feet and stinky farts, and none of them had worked, but it was still technically true.  

“Why?”

“I was jealous of my brother.”

If Roman had only been born a half hour earlier he could have avoided a lifetime of being second best. He could have avoided his curse. Grown up with his Father instead of Julius. Not that he would wish any of that on Remus but. It was natural, surely, to be a little jealous of his brothers freedom.

“Good.”

Julius’ face smiled down at him. He reached out with the grey mans hands to stroke Romulus’ hair, like he sometimes did when he was a child. “You see Romulus, there is always a way to work within the confines of your curse, so long as you are willing to look for it. I taught you that.”

“Where are you?” Romulus whispered.

“I am waiting for you.” he smiled. “I have no sons Romulus, no one to pass the Stewardship to. And we must think about the future of our kingdom. When you are back, we can write a new story.”

“You…you’re ruler?”

Romulus frowned. There was a missing piece here but he couldn’t find it. The heat and pain were making his brain slosh against the inside of his skull. He found himself leaning in to the hand in his hair, even as revulsion rippled through him. “If you’re ruler then where’s –“

“Where’s the serpent?”

Roman blinked. Looking up, he found that Julius was gone again, the grey mans expressionless face staring back at him.

“What?”

“The serpent. Where is he?”

“I don’t – I don’t know what you mean.” Romulus held his injured arm close to his chest, curling over it protectively.

He heard the disappointed sigh and flinched even before the grey man brought his other hand to Romans’ bruised shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Look at me.”

Romulus did, eyes bright.

“I know he has left his prison. I know he was with you at that inn. I sent that stupid boy to get him and he found you.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Romulus wailed, hating the childish wobble in his voice. “There wasn’t anyone else at the inn.”

“No?”

Julius eyes were peering out of the grey man again, a cruel glint to them. ”You were alone?”

“Yes.” Roman told him. Voice steady.

He’d entered the inn alone. He’d sat in the room alone. Climbed out of the window alone. Anything else was none of Julius’ business.

Before the grey man could speak again, a clatter from the next room made them both jump.

“Hmph. He’s early.” the grey man murmured.  “Get back to your place.” He gestured to the pipe Roman had originally been tied to and, haltingly, Roman crawled towards it, sprawling at the base.

“If The Marquis asks, tell him nothing about your injuries.” the grey man added lazily, taking up his position in the centre of the room, fading back into the background.

Roman grunted. It wasn’t a bad plan: his most visible injuries – the burns on his hand which he couldn’t stand to look at – could be explained away as being caused by the very pipe Lucius had tied him to. As usual, nothing could ever be pinned on Julius.

They waited. But neither the Marquis or his men appeared.

The grey man stood across from him, gazing out into the darkness of the next room. Roman wasn’t even worth looking at.

He slumped further against the pipe and tried to focus on breathing. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, though the worst by far was his hand. He shivered from cold, which, given the heat of the room, couldn’t be a good sign. He let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion threatening to take him again.

And then he felt a soft pressure on his lap.

“Mrrp.”

Roman opened his eyes. Then he closed them again.

He opened one eye. It was still there.

“Mister Mittens?” he asked, slightly hysterically.

Romulus and Remus had grown up with dogs. He wasn’t sure if cats were supposed to be able to feel smugness, but this once clearly did. It butted it’s head against Roman’s chin with another self-satisfied “Mrrp.”

“What?“ The grey man was staring at the pair of them, looking as confused as his expressionless face could manage. “Where did that thing come from?”

Roman was saved from having to answer by a crossbow bolt. One that came through the open door, burying itself in the grey man’s skull.

Chapter 7

Extra warnings

Consent stuff – Roman relives a memory of being sexually assaulted (he doesn’t necessarily think of it in those terms). A drunk man kisses him and pushes him against a wall. The man tells Roman to ‘kiss me’ without knowing anything about Romans curse. They are interrupted before it goes beyond kissing. (whether anything else would have happened, or whether the man would have stopped if he had known about the curse, is not shown in the text). It is implied that this sort of situation has happened to Roman before, and that it has gone further, but this is not explicit.

Violence stuff – Roman is tortured in this chapter. This includes cutting, burning and beating with a stick. The majority of this is not described in explicit detail but it’s certainly going on. Due to the nature of his curse, most of this takes place due to another character ordering him to hurt himself. Roman briefly contemplates burning his own eyes (for ‘trying to get around my curse’ reasons rather than ‘self harm’ reasons) . Someone also gets shot in the head with a crossbow. Roman also spends most of this chapter dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke .

I’m not totally sure what this falls under but its grim stuff – a character from romans past spends a lot of this chapter tyring to gas light him/ manipulate him into believing a set of false memories. Roman retains his correct memories but gets hurt a lot in the process. Meeting said character causes Roman to dissociate (I think this is the correct term but please correct me if I’m wrong), he continuously switches between his name and his childhood name during the chapter and at some points reacts as if he was a child.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Awaited Reunions.

Commissioned by the lovely @99shadowcat99.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Pairing: Yandere!Dabi/Hawks.

Synopsis: Keigo’s never been the paranoid type, but when he’s ingrained with the League of Villains, acting as a double-spy too distant from both fronts to count on either’s supports, it’s difficult not to imagine all the grisly ends he could meet, if he’s ever found out. But, when it finally comes time to bite the bullet, Keigo finds out there are things much worse than death.

TW: Alternative Timeline, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Smoking, Possessive Mindsets, Non-Consensual Touching, and Explicit Language. 

**Disclaimer: I don’t read the manga, so if some minor details are incorrect or misinterpreted, I apologize in advance. This piece deviates from the canon early enough for Keigo not to have completely earned the League’s trust, yet, but late enough for much of his behavior to be considered incriminating to the general public.

Keigo couldn’t remember the last time his wings felt heavy.

Or, this heavy, at least. He could always feel them, he was always aware of the breeze on his feathers, the pull on his shoulder blades, the way his spine began to ache whenever he’d overworked himself, but that was different, it was presence, tense and rigid and stiff but alive, nonetheless. This was different. It was dead, alien, wrong, as if someone had taken two metal rods and driven them into his back where his wings were supposed to be. As if he was being dragged down, and there was nothing he could do but fall.

Weakly, he tried to unfold his wings. He couldn’t remember the last time he had to think about something so simple, the last time he had to genuinely try, but he still did, he still put every ounce of concentration into one motion, one twitch, one sign that there was still something attached to him, something he could use. He tried, and he tried, and he tried, and...

And, nothing happened. Keigo slumped against the bare wall in defeat, letting his hand curl around the collar resting around the base of his neck, the metallic source of his current problem.

A quirk-cancelling collar. It was almost ironic, in a way.

There was a chain connected to it, the links bulky, leading back to a radiator that, thankfully, didn’t work. There were shackles on his wrists, too, and his ankles, but he’d already given up on prying them off. It was a futile effort, anyway. It was an old-fashioned method, but an effective one, too tight and too straight-forward not to be effective. Clunky, but not clumsy. Ugly, but purposefully so.

Then again, he wasn’t sure what else he could expect from Dabi. Bruised, battered Dabi. Simpering, smirking Dabi.

Dabi, who hadn’t said a damn word since Keigo woke up on the floor of this shitty, empty basement, the back of his head throbbing and his wings frozen to his back, despite his best efforts to thaw them out.

For the first time in the handful of hours he’s been conscious, Keigo let his attention drift to his silent companion. He’d changed since the last time Keigo saw him, put on a thinner coat, one without the fine layer of ash that turned a pitch-black to a muddy, distorted grey. He hadn’t combed his hair, but Keigo might’ve been more surprised if he had. The same went for the cigarette caught between his pointer and middle fingers, a new facet, but one that felt right, one that filled the air with a cloudy, darkened smoke that made Keigo squint and frown, despite knowing he should be doing his best to stay neutral in every capacity, right now, expressions included. If Dabi noticed the slip, though, he didn’t bother with a verbal critic. His eyes were the only thing that moved, flickering in Keigo’s direction from where he leaned against the furthest wall.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, waiting for the other to cave under the pressure. Keigo was the first to relent. He could take the hit to his pride, as long as it meant finding out what was going on. “Those things can kill you, y’know.”

Another drag, slow and careless. When he exhaled, the smoke was black, sooty. As if Dabi’s lungs were just as burnt as his skin. “If they want to get the job done, they’ll have to work a little faster,” He muttered, his voice so low, Keigo wasn’t sure whether or not he was supposed to overhear. “It’s a steep competition. I’ve got other ‘suitors to entertain’, and all that bullshit. But you know all about that, don’t you?”

“If you want me to know about anything, you’re gonna have to stop talking in fucking riddles,” Keigo groaned, letting his head fall back against the bare wall. There was a jolt of pain through his skull, the ghost of something hot and thick dripping down the back of his neck, but Keigo elected to ignore the bolts of reflexive panic that shot up, in response. “This is a joke, right? The last thing I remember is you storming into the bar, hitting me over the head with a pint I wasn’t finished with, and the next thing I know, I’m tied up in some dark basement, listening to you rant about ‘suitors’ and ‘competition’. If either of us should be asking questions, it’s me.”

Now, that got Dabi to laugh, a deep chuckle that, for whatever reason, did little to ease Keigo’s nerves. He almost regretted trying to keep the tone so light. “That’s cute,” He said, letting his heel knock against the skirting as he pushed himself away from the wall. “I thought spies were supposed to be good at sweet-talkin’.”

Keigo felt his heart drop.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sort of dread, all hollow fear and sore tightness, the same thing he felt every time someone mentioned lying, or how close he seemed with the Heroes he supposedly hated, or stared too long or failed to smile or made a comment that just wasn’t trusting enough, for Keigo’s sense of skepticism. If he’d been able to use his wings, he might’ve taken his chances, running Dabi through like an especially hostile pin-cushion or going on the defensive and hoping most of him wasn’t burnt away in the process, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything, and fuck, he was starting to get sick of it.

He couldn’t do anything, so he didn’t try to. For a long, calculated second, he held Dabi’s gaze, his expression shocked and confused, and then, he cracked a smile, bowed his head, and forced himself to laugh.

“You’re fucking with me.” Blatant, simple, vulgar. He spoke Dabi’s language, spoke like his friend. Like he was one of them, really one of them, rather than a poorly-crafted imitation. “You have to be fucking with me. A spy? Really? If you wanted to scare me, you could’ve just--”

“The League already knows,” Dabi cut in, not bothering to indulge Keigo’s attempts to backtrack. “Took a while, but no one was that surprised to find out the hero might not be on our side. Funny how quickly all that hard work goes to waste, right?” The cigarette fell from his hand, soon caught under the toe of Dabi’s boot. “Don’t worry about the Hero Commission comin’ for their golden boy, either, I’ll make sure no one puts you over daddy’s knee. The news about our dissatisfied, glory-speaking hero should start spreading in three... four hours? Just the part about you working with us, obviously. If the rest of your valiant friends want to save face in front of their adoring fans, they’ll drop the case quickly.”

In his defense, Keigo didn’t break down. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t do much of anything, not as Dabi laughed, not as he stretched, and not as slow, careless footsteps made their way across the otherwise empty room, only stopping once he reached Keigo’s kneeling form. Keigo didn’t look up. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, concentrated on one particular crack in the concrete as Dabi lowered himself to one knee, taking his time to settle into the position. He didn’t want to look up, but he didn’t have a choice, not after Dabi’s hand clamped around his jaw, his thumb just digging into Keigo’s cheek and forcing his head back. Forcing him to take in the glint of silver staples, those hooded eyes. That smile, crooked and sharpened and so, so satisfied.

Keio felt sick.

“The guys wanted your head on a platter for it, but let that scare ya’. Took a while to calm ‘em down, but your new jewelry helped, and no one hated the idea of seeing you placed in my loving care.” There was a slight squeeze, a sudden jerk that left Keigo scrambling to catch himself and Dabi releasing an amused huff, one seemingly unaffected by his hostage’s silence. “Think of this as a favor. A gift from an old friend, an act of mercy from the only person who’s ever going to care about you, going forward.”

It was an instinctive reaction, one Keigo didn’t have to think about. Not anymore. “You’re not my friend.”

“This again,” Dabi sighed, his tone anything but sympathetic. “Need another hint, Takami?”

Keigo opened his mouth, but he didn’t get the chance to answer. Dabi was already wrenching him forward, chapped lips soon pressed against his own. The kiss was harsh, sudden and forceful enough to be bruising and thankfully, thankfully cut short as Keigo shoved at Dabi’s chest, forcing him to draw back with a throaty laugh. It only lasted a second, less than that, but it lasted long enough for Keigo to remember the last time someone kissed him like that, long enough to remember his training, the cramped rooms and thin mattresses and the tiny cots that only seemed smaller when another warm body found its way onto his. To remember a boy with white hair and smoke on his breath, a boy who died, a boy who was still dead. A boy who Keigo had to tell himself time and time again couldn’t be in front of him, couldn’t be alive, couldn’t be Dabi.

A boy with a cracked smile, one that never seemed genuine, whose touch was too harsh and whose kiss was too hard and who thought he loved Keigo, who thought he could love Keigo.

Who thought Keigo could love him back, if he didn’t have another option.

“Touya.”

Dabi only let go of his jaw, taking Keigo by his collar, instead. Keigo didn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at Dabi, but he didn’t have to. He could feel the tug forward, the smile as a soft, chaste kiss was pressed into the top of his head. “I thought you’d never come around,” Dabi, no, Touya whispered, his teeth ghosting over Keigo’s skin.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

[tmngoose]

Nice Words: a Turtle Tots Drabble

Based on my headcanon. I’m sure there’s some errors, but w/e. It’s almost 3am :A!  1,632 word count. G-Rated. Tags include: sibling squabbles, sad feelings, happy endings, and hurt/comfort? Read it under the cut! (Once I get my Ao3 up and running it’s all over for y’all) :U

It was late in the afternoon when Splinter had finished making himself a cup of tea. As he placed Ol' Skelly back onto the stovetop, his ears pricked towards the kitchen's entrance, where he could distinctly hear the pitter-patter of feet tottering down the hallway, followed by a series of sharp whispers.  "Boys," Splinter addressed, "Didn't I tell you four that you could only have your snacks after you tidied up your bedrooms?" It wouldn't have been the first time his turtle-children attempted to sneak into the snack cabinet and reward themselves for a job half-done.  "U-Um, actually, it's just us three," Mikey answered meekly.   Splinter raised a brow, "Three?" He turned around and spotted Raph, Leo, and Mikey huddled together in the doorway, their expressions mixed. "Where's Purple?"  Raph pushed Leo forward, earning a scowl from his younger brother, "Leo and Donnie were fighting again, and then Donnie ran off somewhere!"  "Tattle-tale," Leo grumbled, folding his arms with a huff. Splinter sighed, "Blue? I thought we talked about using our nice words towards each other?" He knelt before Leo, who fidgeted under his father's attention.  "But I did!" Leo's passionate claim wavered. He guiltily stared down at his feet, "Well, I mean, I did at first. But he started it!" The slider's fire returned, only quelled by Splinter, who pressed a finger up to his mouth. "That's not important," Splinter said, "What's important now is finding your brother and setting things right."  "But, we looked everywhere for him!" Mikey whimpered, tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes.  Raph began counting off on his fingers, "We searched the bathroom, all of our bedrooms and the living room! I even looked inside your chair!"   "I still think he could've flushed himself down the toilet," Leo mumbled to himself, earning another look of disapproval from Splinter.  "Then, it sounds like you three have a lot of backtracking to do!" Splinter patted Mikey's shell and took a moment to dry the box turtle's tears with his sleeve. "But worry not, my sons, for I will help you."                                                                -x- What Splinter had promised was a half-truth. While his boys double-checked their bedrooms, Splinter took his cup of tea into the living room. He could keep an eye out for Donnie while also keeping an eye on his favorite TV show.      Splinter shook his head upon discovering the state of disarray the living room was left in from Raph, Leo, and Mikey’s frantic search for Donnie. He decided he'd make the boys sort out the rest of the living room after supper. Splinter fixed the cushions of his armchair, made himself comfortable, sipped his tea, and then twirled the remote control between his fingers. Splinter's thumb hovered over the power button. Just before he could click it, there came a strange sound from close-by. Sniffle...  It was a soft, sad sound that made Splinter's ears twitch. He listened carefully and heard nothing. He shrugged, pointed the remote at the projector screen, and- Sniff... sniffle...  - there it was again! If Splinter was right, the noise was coming from beneath him? He slid out of his seat and checked underneath the armchair.  "Purple?" Splinter blinked. "What are you doing under there?" Donnie turned away from Splinter, burrowing further into his hoodie until he eventually disappeared into his shell. He sniffled again, and Splinter frowned.  "Surely, you can't be comfy down there?" Splinter held out his hand. "Why not come out and join me? We can watch Scorpion Treadmill together!" Splinter only needed to wait a few more seconds before he felt Donnie's hand lightly take ahold of his own. Splinter's fingers curled around the tiny hand and carefully helped Donnie out from under the recliner.  Splinter kept his word. He plopped back down in his seat and placed Donnie on his lap, who was still tucked inside his shell. Splinter turned on the TV and sipped his tea once more, setting the cup and saucer down on Donnie's back.  By the time the first commercial break came on, Donnie finally spoke up from within his shell, "Leo said he wished Laceface was his brother instead of me."  Splinter looked down at Donnie and lowered the volume on the TV, "Laceface? Oh! You mean the football you boys are always breaking things with? Now, why would Blue say something like that?"   "Because he's a big meanie," Donnie murmured sourly. "Now, Purple. What did we say about using our nice words towards each other?"  "Well, he is!" Donnie's head popped out of his shell, his eyes puffy from crying. "Me 'n Mikey were playing Jupiter Jim when Leo and Raph crashed our game with their stupid Sports Ball game!"  "Uh-huh," Splinter nodded, sipping his tea.  "And then Leo's trick pass caused Raph to break our moon buggy!"   "You don't say?"   "So I told Leo he owed us a new moon buggy, but he said it wasn't his fault our moon buggy broke so easily cuz it's cardboard! So then I said to him that it was his fault because it was his dum-dum trick pass that caused Raph to break our moon buggy in the first place! And then Leo said his trick pass wasn't dumb, and that I was the dumb one!"  Donnie went on. Splinter could see where all this was going. Indeed, it was a messy situation, though thankfully, he knew of a way to fix it. When Donnie finished recounting his side of the story, the young turtle was just as hurt when he had first hid under Splinter's armchair. Donnie lifted his glasses out of the way so he could wipe his eyes and swallowed the sob caught in his throat.   "Who am I kidding?" Donnie's shoulders sagged with defeat. "They'd probably care more about Laceface than me." Splinter began rubbing Donnie's back, hoping to calm him down, "You know that's not true. Your brothers care very much about you, including Blue!"  "Nuh-uh," Donnie shook his head in disbelief.  "Yuh-huh," Splinter answered, "Why, surely you must've heard them tearing this room apart while they were looking for you?"  "Well, yeah..." "Did you know they're still looking for you?" Splinter continued, "Why, they've been so worried about you!" "R-Really?"  "Really," Splinter petted the top of Donnie's head.  "Even Leo?" "Only one way to find out," Splinter cleared his throat, "BOYS!"  Splinter's bellow echoed off the walls of the lair. Donnie could hear his siblings clumsily stumble over each other as they piled into the living room, though none of them dared to approach Splinter's armchair, and with good reason too: they still hadn't found Donnie.  "Yeah, Pops?" Raph asked hesitantly. "Have you boys found Purple yet?" Splinter winked down at Donnie and signaled for him to stay quiet. Donnie, unsure of what Splinter was scheming, obediently covered his mouth with both of his hands.   "Um, n-no, not yet," Mikey spoke up with a sad tremor in his throat.   "Oh, that's too bad," Splinter lamented, "I suppose I will have to find you a new brother, huh? Maybe that football you boys love so much?" He mused aloud.  "What?!" Raph gasped, "Replace Donnie?!"  "With Laceface?!" Leo sounded just as upset as Raph and Mikey, which surprised Donnie. "You can't do that!" Leo protested.  "Why not?" Splinter questioned. "Didn't you say you'd rather have Laceface as your brother anyway?"   "W-Well, yeah, but... b-but...," Leo grew quiet, and then burst out crying; the weight of his guilt finally crashing down on him. "I don't want a football for a brother!! I d-didn't mean it when I said that!  I want Donnie for a brother-," Leo's hiccuping stopped abruptly, "-wait a sec, how did you know I said that to Donnie?" "Because he told me," Splinter replied cheekily and held Donnie out over the side of his armchair for his brothers to see.   "Donnie!!" Leo, Raph, and Mikey ran towards the soft-shell and tackled him out of Splinter's hands. They smothered Donnie in a great big heap on the floor; one could barely spot the soft-shell within the mess of arms as his brothers nuzzled him.  At first, Donnie was uncomfortable. The hug was suffocating and almost unbearable until he noticed how happy and relieved his brothers were to have found him: including Leo.   "I'm sorry, Donnie," apologized Leo, "I never meant any of it, honest!"  "And I'm sorry too," Donnie gritted out, "B-but maybe you guys could st-stop squeezing me? M-My oxygen levels..." He squeaked helplessly. Splinter smiled, satisfied with their touching reunion, "I hope you all learned a valuable lesson today."   "We sure did!" Raph beamed, "Donnie's the best at hide-and-seek!"  "What? No!" Splinter shook his head, "Well, maybe, but that's not it! Sometimes, when we're angry, we say things to each other that we do not mean. That is why it is super-duper important to always use our nice words towards each other!"   To the four turtle tots, their father spoke words of wisdom. Their eyes glistened in awe and respect.  "Now then!" Splinter's tender fatherly disposition suddenly turned agitated and firm, "Why were you boys playing Jupiter Jim and Sports Ball in the first place?! Didn't I tell you to clean your rooms before my shows started?!"  The turtle brothers yelped and scrambled out of the living room before Splinter could punish any of them.  "Quick, Donnie!" Raph cried out, "Tell us your secret ways of hide-and-seek!" He held Donnie high above his head, leading the gang to his bedroom. "Yeah!" Leo agreed, "Dad can't punish us if he can't find us!"  The turtle tots giggled and shrieked as they carried on their mischief elsewhere within the lair. Splinter shook his head. He reached for his tea and found that the last few sips had gone cold. Though that hardly mattered, for the laughter of his children warmed him all the same. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Animal Planet, Treats”

Another quick one of these for you this morning. Hope you all like it and have a good day. 

-

“Good hungry human, now drop the nice TV caster, drop it, I SAID DROP IT! Mendex hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. The human lowers its head looking very displeased, as it shuffles it’s feet across the floor. The other humans look on in agreed displeasure eyeing Mendex as he scrambles across the floor and goes back to cowering behind his camera crew, where he would have preferred to be for the past few minutes, instead being snatched up by the ravenous looking humans, who are now baring their teeth at him hungrily.

“Keep that thing away from me!”

The doctor turns wagging his hand at the human, “bad, bad human. You bad naughty human, we do not eat guests!” 

The human sticks it’s mouth tentacle out in response, and even the doctor seems a bit nonplussed at that. The human appears to be very smug with itself.

Doctor Krill turns to look at the crew, “I should probably feed them before they get more aggressive, come on, they will be much more docile once they aren’t hungry anymore.”

Followed by a nervous group of TV casters, they make their way down the dark Tunnels of the human hive. It is more than a little creepy, the walls are lined in a thousand tubes and panels of metal. They wonder what sinister things could be carried inside those pipes.

What did the humans store in their dark places.

What did they hide in their dark places.

More strange animal noises up the hallway. The camera crew pulls back hiding behind the doctor who walks up with the humans. He pats them on occasion, and they circle around him and their alpha.

THey come to a halt just then looking up the hall.

Another group of humans has rounded the corner, and both groups stop.

“Oh no.” Krill whispers.

“What do you mean oh no?” One of the crewmembers snaps camera shaking so badly in his hands that he almost tips it onto the floor. The footage will probably be unusable. 

“Another, rival group of humans.” He glances back at them, “They often fight each other for dominance. The smaller humans will try to gang up on the alpha for territory .”

“H-how do we know they want to do that.”

“Oh, you see that big ugly one at the end of the hall, yeah, that one, he always tries to take territory from the alpha.”

The camera shakily zooms in on the opposite end of the hallway. The human that stands there is just a bit shorter than the alpha with dark fur, and a few shades darker skin. He makes some sort of noise, and the alpha chirps back. They stand there for a second before the rival shakes himself and crouches low to the ground.

“Everyone RUN!” Krill shouts.

He didn’t have to ask the crew twice, as they turn and book it off down the hallway. Behind them they can hear the ravening roaring of the fighting creatures and the clatter of feet on metal as they charg after each other.

They can hear the strange repetitive revving noise from behind, though, for the life of them, none can remember what it meant.

They roll down the halls nearly getting themselves lost when Krill yells.

“Hurry, this way!.”

A few of them nearly skid into a wall before backtracking and rounding another corner following hurriedly after the doctor as the sound of fighting receded into the distance.

“Don’t worry, we will be safe through here.” 

They break through the open door and….

And found themselves standing at the front of a room, surrounded on all sides by wide-eyed humans.

There must have been at least 100 of them.

“Everyone, stay very still….” THe doctor whispers, “These humans are eating  so they are likely to be relatively docile  do not make any sudden moves, and do not disturb their food whatever you do, a human will hurt you  over food.”

Following after the doctor, the crew move a little further into the room as the humans shift in their seats, a few of them standing to get a better view of the intruders. They do not feel safe at all here.

“Do you think the others will… follow us.” Mendex stammers glancing back towards the door. So far cowering behind his crew members had been beneficial  but now, nowhere is safe, and he is starting to feel the heat. His fear is not out of place though, as the rest of the crew huddles in back to back with each other facing outwards towards the staring humans. They were trapped in no uncertain terms.

They can see the humans now, glancing back and forth between each other with what must be hungry expressions. None of them can read the human faces, but they know enough to know they were about to be eaten.

A few of the standing humans move slowly forward cutting in closer to their small huddled group.

They circle fro the outside, and the camera follows them as they move focusing in on the powerful, lithe movement of their muscles expanding and contracting under layers of rubbery skin.

“Ok, everyone must remain calm.” The doctor began, “There is an easy fix to this.” The others turn around to stare at him like he is insane, but he does not heed their expressions as he reached downwards pulling something, seemingly from nowhere and brandishing it at the humans.

The aliens stare  on in confusion.

It is a colorful cylinder maybe seven inches long  and when he flicks up the lid it makes a curious popping noise. The camera zooms in again exposing a strange set of runes down one side.

The humans stop in their tracks looking on with their strange, wide eyes.

“Everyone, hold out your hand.” The doctor announces, “quickly, quickly, they won’t wait forever.” 

They scramble to do as told holding out their hands as the doctor moves by tipping the little container over their open palms and puuring….. A strange set of brightly colored orbs onto their hands.”

Once finished, doctor Krill takes his place at the head of the group and clears his throat, “Alright everyone, here is how this is going to work. WHat I have given you are treats made especially for humans. Humans love brightly colored sugary things. Now, what you are going to do, is your are going to hold your hands palm out to the humans and allow them to take the treats. This does a couple of things. The number one being that, humans love food, and they are liable to like anyone who gives them food. Maybe if the human likes you very much you can pet them, and rest assured that they will not attack you after that.”

Ok, that seemed simple enough.”

Closing their eyes, and holding out their hands the camera crew sat with bated breath just waiting for the humans to devour them hole. Maybe they would take a test bite first to see what they tasted like, maybe they would just come in for one big chomp and have it over with.

It was too scary!

They just couldn’t look!

And then one of the humans acted. Shrugging its powerful muscled shoulders once, it reached down and plucked some of the brightly colored treats from one of the quivering aliens tilting back their head and dropping the colorful orbs straight down their throat and swallowing goal. Once one human had done so, a group of other humans moved in to join in. it wasn’t a silent affair. The humans chattered to each other happily, and even towards the aliens.

“Its working.” Someone breathed  and the entire group slouched with a relief so palpable it could have been bottled. 

“Go on, bet them, I am sure they will not mind.” And while a few of the humans had backed out of range, the vast majority stayed behind. A small human, probably a female with deep set hazle eyes and short tawny hair sat at the center of the group and allowed them to stroke fingers through her fur letting off that strange revving noise every now and again, “See look at that, what a good human. Such a good and nice human.” Krill handed over the colorful tube, and the human accepted with great glee separating the colored orbs into groups before eating them one color at a time, “Humans can be relatively docile when well fed. Now, a little lesson on humans is that they are primarily omnivores, which means they can eat both plant and animal based material and pretty much everything in between. Go ahead and assume that if you can eat it, a man definitely can “ He stroked the tawny human’s head 

“Now humans are a very strange creature, and when it comes to attracting other humans, things tend to get a little more complicated. Humans like to rub themselves with strange and interesting oils to make themselves smell better to other humans. A human’s natural musk tends to be unpleasant even to their own species, so those that hide it best are the ones that tend to get ates. Honestly humans don’t really tend to smell on their own, but the bacteria which they attract do tend to have that problem. I would suggest washing your hands after touching a human.

The enthusiasm died somewhat with that statement.

“However, a good human tries to keep themselves relatively clean. Additionally humans like to line their nests in many soft things, in order to sleep. It is a tendency for humans to be attracted to and to collect shiny objects. If a human really likes another human, they will often try to bribe the affections of another with the shiny objects which they have collected. It is more than common for humans to wear shiny objects around their wrists, hands and necks. However, some humans do not like shiny things but will accept any form of bribery involving food. However, be careful when interacting with humans around food because they will become very angry if their food is stolen or tampered with.” 

Looking around just then, it is clear that they have drawn a crowd. Humans than had been sitting on the other side of the room had approached to closer chairs, and looked onwards as if they were listening to the conversation.

The human in the center of their circle had now finished of the treats and was content to be patted on the head by the other crewmembers who were quickly warming up to her.

“As you can see here, humans are very curious, so curious, in fact, it is one of the issues with their species related to survival. Humans like to explore their new environments by touching things with their hands and their mouths. They do this, because human hands and lips are the most sensitive parts of their bodies and can detect minute changes in the texture of a surface. This is also a way in which humans bond, by touching each other, and in certain cases touching their mouths to other humans mouths.”

The alien crew made faces.

Krill nodded “Do not try that ever, not that you would ever want to, but humans are very disgusting creatures, and they have more cells or bacteria on their bodies than they have human cells on their bodies. In essence , humans are a hazardous waste issue, and should be dealt with accordingly.

The aliens pulled back a little from the human they had been petting.

She seemed very unsatisfied and moved closer forcing them to go back to what they were doing.

“Oh yes, also it is important to make sure your human is getting the proper amount of attention, praise, and reward for the good things they are doing.”

“Good human,” Someone muttered to the human they had been patting.

It wasn’t a moment later that they were all alerted to a sound in the hallway, turning to find the alpha returning form the hall alone and, seemingly triumphant. In his hands he carried…. What appeared to be the things humans tended to wear on their feet.

He walked over and dropped them by the doctor who looked down and then back up at the human who hissed something unintelligible.

He turned to look at the room, “And here you see it, the human has succeeded in his fight for supremacy over his pack. And he has brought back a trophy to show that he is one.” He turned to look at the group very seriously, “Humans often steal each others shoes once a fight for dominance is over. Since they stand on their feet, the shoe is often one of the hardest items of clothing to stel, and requires the other human to be off their feet and in another vulnerable position.”

They glanced between each other nervously, “What happened to the other human?”

“The other human? Oh, well exactly what you would expect.”

“What should we expect?”

“I don’t know, whatever you expect is exactly what it is.”

There was a pause before, “They ate it!.”

The doctor frowned glanced up at the human paused shrugged, “Yes. Taking off the shoes makes it easier to cook and eat, but he isn’t likely to do it until later, so we don’t have to worry about seeing that.”

There was no need for them to see it.

They were already imagining. 

[cake-writes]

Compromise (Part Eight)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, Separation Anxiety

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

Interlude #2 / Master List / Spotify Playlist

“His phone’s broken.”

A simple explanation to be sure, but it set you off.

You were thankful that Steve had said it over your phone with you miles away from the compound, otherwise you may very well have stormed into the communications room and ripped Bucky a new one over the air. In fact, you still had half a mind to, but you didn’t. He’d been sent to Malaysia, apparently: a mission halfway across the globe. What difference would it make?

The worst part was that you sent Steve a bunch of panicked texts until he finally rang you back. Even his response was delayed, because he was busy, too – busy cleaning up his best friend’s mess, just like the last time. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did.

Of course it did. You let your guard down.

Why hadn’t Bucky just asked someone to keep you in the loop?

It was a simple ask, really, and something he should have done days ago. Instead, he put you in a bad spot – made you worry about him, made you overthink, made you feel like this past weekend was just a fluke, and maybe it was.

One step forward, two steps back.

Needless to say, when Bucky finally showed up on your doorstep, you nearly slammed the door in his face. The only thing that stopped you was the apologetic look in his eyes, although the small bouquet of daisies in his hand might have helped a little, too.

“You’re an asshole,” was the first thing out of your mouth.

He winced. You didn’t apologize.

“We can’t make this work if you don’t communicate with me, Bucky.”

“I know,” he admitted, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry.”

How many times had you heard that before?

“I’m not going to keep chasing after you for answers like this,” you told him, just a hint of bitterness seeping into your voice. “I shouldn’t have to. And I shouldn’t have to ask your friends, either.”

Bucky’s adam’s apple bobbed at your harsh tone, but no words came. You thought he looked conflicted, almost, like he wanted to say something, maybe defend himself like he was so wont to do, but he held it back. Instead, he took the tongue lashing and didn’t even try to argue – a stark contrast to how he used to be.

What’s more was that he agreed with you, and that was the biggest surprise of all.

“You’re right. I should have asked someone to let you know. I’m sorry.”

That was when you noticed just how much he’d changed over the last two years. Then again, so had you.

You stared at him for a moment, hard and resolute, before you finally stepped aside to let him in. Bucky met your eyes with an unspoken question – are you sure? – but the only thing you responded with was an aggravated sigh as you retreated back into the house.

You left the front door wide open for him, left the ball in his court.

The soft click of the door closing, along with the heavy footfalls of his boots against tile let you know that he’d accepted your invitation.

Reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets, you retrieved a small vase for the flowers, doing your best to ignore the slightest flutter of appreciation in your chest. He’d remembered that you liked daisies, even if he had only ever bought them for you as an apology. That, at least, hadn’t changed.

No, that wasn’t true. He got you some on your first anniversary, too. Your only anniversary.

“How was Malaysia?” you asked, then, short and to the point. An exercise in civility. A difficult exercise. 

When you held your hand out for the bouquet, he immediately gave it to you and you pulled a pair of shears from your knife block to trim the stems.

Another routine.

“Hot,” Bucky replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just got in about a half hour ago.”

Tense. Awkward. Uncomfortable. That was how you felt, but a fraction of the tension faded away at his admission, indirect as it was. He’d come straight here after he got back – hadn’t even changed out of his tac gear, or at least not completely. Handgun holstered at his hip, belt and cargo pants still loaded with knives and ammo, the only thing missing was a thick layer of kevlar.

Hot, he’d said, and you tended to agree. You hadn’t seen him in his gear in a long time, and with the fire of your rage slowly fading to an insignificant smoulder, another fire started to burn.

You blamed it on the fact that you were alone with him – actually alone with him – for the first time in years. You’d already taken Winnie to preschool this morning, which worked out well enough because you didn’t really like the idea of her being around so many weapons, even though Bucky had always taken the utmost care to ensure that she never got into them. 

As for you, well, you’d taken the day off to catch up on errands and housework. How he knew he’d find you at home, you weren’t sure, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as it probably should have.

“How’s the car running?” he asked, his own attempt at making terrible conversation. 

“Better than my old one. Thank you.”

Cut and dry, but civil and full of projection.

Stems trimmed, you placed the small bouquet into the vase and filled it with water. Only after you finally met his eyes again did you notice how nervous he seemed to be. With a single look, you could just tell, even if he didn’t say a thing. 

James Buchanan Barnes, so nervous and walking on eggshells because of you. 

More tension faded away at that realization, however, and you felt the corners of your lips turn up in the slightest hint of a smile – one meant not to mock, but to reassure. When you spoke again, your tone was lighter than before and so was your heart. “Thanks for these, too, Bucky. They’re lovely.”

Bucky visibly relaxed upon seeing your smile, his shoulders slumping just a little.

Had he always been this easy to read?

“Can I— Can I take you to lunch?” he stammered, then, and it completely blindsided you. You got the feeling that it might have blindsided him, too; the question seemed a little rushed, like he’d blurted it out before his mind caught up and he quickly scrambled to add, “I know you're busy, and I’m probably the last person you want to eat with, it’s just— I found this little place ‘round the corner a few months back, and—”

Brows raising in amusement, you made a joke to help calm his nerves. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Bucky swallowed hard and quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

Oh.

Oh.

“No, not unless…” An anxious pause, then, and your heart began to race – at least until Bucky chose not to finish that train of thought. Instead, he cleared his throat and backtracked to a single, “No.”

You felt conflicted, because you knew exactly where that sentence was heading and you half-wished he’d seen it through. The other half of you understood what a bad idea that would have been.

Clearly, so did he.

A quick check of the clock on your wall indicated that it was just after eleven. You’d be free until Winnie’s preschool ended at two-thirty, and, if you were honest, you really had missed him over the last week. You’d started to miss his company, as stupid as it sounded when you’d done just fine without him over the last two years.

“I can do lunch,” you offered, “but I’ll have to leave around two.”

Soft blue eyes widened at first, but then they crinkled up at the corners in the way you’d always loved. Even now, seeing that gorgeous smile made you weak.

The sun shone brightly upon the two of you as you walked side-by-side, leisurely, through the park near your house. Funny that you only used to meet Bucky here for his visits with Winnie, but now it was just you and him.

He’d stripped off the rest of his tac gear before you left, lest he kickstart the mommy group rumour mill. Bucky wasn’t exactly a secret of yours, per se, but being loaded up with weapons was a good way to draw attention. Neither of you wanted that, least of all him because of who he was – who he’d been – and so at your offer, Bucky locked his weapons inside of your bedroom closet.

“It’s safer than anywhere else in the house, right?” you pointed out matter-of-factly. “A locked closet with no windows.”

“Looks like you haven’t completely forgotten my training, then.” 

His teasing tone set your cheeks aflame.

The sound of children’s laughter cut through the air, and you found yourself sneaking glances over at him as the two of you made your way past the playground. The faraway look in his eyes as he watched the children playing gave you pause; at first, you assumed it was because he remembered bringing Winnie here, too.

It wasn’t, you soon learned when he stated abruptly, “I’ve started going to therapy.”

“You—” It took a moment to find your footing with such a jarring reveal of sensitive information. “You have?”

“Yeah.”

Well, that explained a lot. You’d pushed him to go to therapy during the latter half of your relationship, but he refused more than once – so much that you eventually stopped asking. That was around the same time you gave up on him.

After taking a moment to choose your words, you placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m... I’m happy for you, Bucky. That must have been a hard first step to take.”

That was what finally seemed to pull him from that faraway place. Your touch. He looked down at your hand, first, and then at you – features soft, almost wistful as he answered, “Yeah. It was.”

And then, silence reigned supreme once again.

You wanted to know more, of course you did, but you didn’t want to pry. Maybe he’d tell you more someday. You hoped he’d tell you someday, but why? It had nothing to do with you. How selfish, wanting to know his innermost secrets. Of course he’d never tell you. It wasn’t any of your business. Not anymore.

The warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips almost burned, you’d missed him so much, and you pulled your hand back to your body, using it as a shield to peer up at the sunny sky. It was a feeble attempt to distract yourself from your thoughts. Even the faint laughter on the wind couldn’t stop you from wishing for things you’d never have. Wishing for him.

Playdates in the park with you, Bucky, and your little girl, just like the smattering of parents always close by the swing set. Commonplace on a beautiful day like today. Normal. Right.

Celebratory dinners when Winnie did well in school, and birthday dinners, too: March for him, and May for her.

Weekends and holidays spent together, an amalgamation of his family’s old traditions and yours.

You and Bucky had planned to make your own traditions, once. Sunday morning pancakes were just the start – sparked by soft, sleepy whispers shared between sweethearts, suggestions of what your little family might do in the future. Ham for Thanksgiving, perhaps, and a Stark-inspired celebration when Winnie graduated from college. The two of you had even talked about the beautiful wedding she might have one day.

Plans made for years away, but the seeds were planted – seeds that withered away. 

Once-forgotten wishes of a life with him now lay at the forefront of your mind, not so easily forgotten this time. No matter how large the star you wished upon, it would never be able to bring the life back to a relationship so stunted in its growth. Not when the water – the love – had run dry.

Today, Bucky had drawn a clear line in the sand between the two of you.

This wasn’t a date. His love had run dry.

Part Nine

[when-they-write-stuff]

For @foreverthemomfriend and @ice-mage because my askbox freaked out or something and crashed ;)

12. “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

- -

The thing is, Stiles liked Derek’s leather jacket.

Like, he liked-liked the leather jacket. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, but if Derek one day walked around in nothing but his leather jacket, Stiles might have a heart attack. He’d literally die.

It was his secret shame. Or… non-shame. Whatever. The point was, Stiles liked the leather jacket.

He also liked the man that wore it.

It started (or got out of control?) when they were chasing a wendigo through the preserve. You know, as things normally do when one’s life is literally a series of chasing monsters and trying not to die.

It just so happened to be raining that night as well. Stiles thought that perfectly summed up his life.

Derek Hale was not impressed.

They’d split up into pairs and because Stiles would never be Allison, he’d been the odd one out. And of course, because Derek would never be a non-grump, he’d been singled out too. Which meant they were perfect for each other. Or something.

Stiles was seriously underdressed for the weather.

He hunched miserably in his red hoodie, the thin material sticking to his arms and chest. It’d been soaked through hours ago and at this point, he thought there was literally no use for it. 

Derek didn’t look like he was faring much better. But at least the water slid off of his leather jacket instead of soaking through it, so Stiles thought he had no room to talk. Or not talk, whatever. Derek’s grumpy expression was expressive enough. He looked like he was about to murder someone.

“You know,” Stiles said, wiping water from his face. “We could always call it quits for the night and go back to the loft. I could go for some hot chocolate right now.”

“We’re not calling it quits, Stiles.”

“I’m just saying, Sourwolf, it wouldn’t kill anyone to put off the search—” Derek gave him an incredulous look and Stiles winced as he listened to his own words, quickly backtracking. “I mean, it might kill someone, but that’s seriously doubtful. Do you really think the wendigo is out in this crappy weather like us? The thing is probably being smarter than we are and hunkering down somewhere warm.”

“We’re not calling it quits,” Derek said again, and Stiles resisted the urge to groan. He felt like the cold was sinking into his very bones. He didn’t think he’d ever been so wet in his life.

“Fine,” he said, sticking his hands into his pockets even though that did nothing. “But when I catch a cold and die because of this goddamn rain, you better feel guilty.”

Derek glanced over, eyes taking in Stiles and his pitifully soaked form as if he was just seeing it for the first time. Which, he probably was. Stiles tried not to roll his eyes, he really did, but they rolled on their own accord.

He couldn’t control it sometimes.

“You’re soaked,” Derek said, as if that wasn’t obvious. Stiles huffed.

“No, Sourwolf, I’m sweating. See all this? It’s sweat.”

“Are you cold?”

“S—seriously? Dude, I can’t feel my fingers!”

Derek looked constipated for a long moment, hands stuffed into his own pockets. Then, before Stiles could comprehend what was happening, the man was sliding off his leather jacket and pulling it around Stiles’s shoulders.

Stiles didn’t know how to react. He stood there for a moment, mouth hanging open, before he snapped back to reality and tried to shrug the jacket back off.

“Dude, no way! Now you’re the one that’s going to get cold!”

“Werewolves run hotter than humans,” Derek said, turning away and starting through the trees again. “I’ll stay a lot warmer than you are.”

“Dude, dude! Stop walking away from me and get back here!”

But Derek ignored him. Stiles hurried after the man, wrapping the leather jacket around his shoulders so it didn’t slip off. To be honest, the sudden warmth was very welcome and it smelled like Derek— aftershave and pine. But he totally had to give it back. Right?

Before he could decide, a loud howl cut through the pouring rain. Stiles squawked and pinwheeled around, right as something with glowing yellow eyes leaped out of the darkness.

Derek shoved him sideways seconds before the wendigo cut him to ribbons and Stiles went stumbling, his vision turning to a blur of rain, mud, and faint roars as he hit the ground hard and grunted in surprise. 

Stiles heard what sounded like a pained yelp. Then it was cut off by a sharp animalistic scream of agony.

And the only sound in the night was that of falling rain again.

Stiles scrambled to his feet. Derek’s leather jacket hung at an odd angle as he spun around and squinted against the storm. He could barely see anything in the darkness and the rain in his eyes only made things worse. But Stiles was pretty sure that if the wendigo had won the fight, that wouldn’t matter for much longer.

He heard a crack to the side and yelped, spinning around with flailing limbs. He barely caught sight of glowing red eyes before his fist collided with the side of Derek’s face.

The man let out a startled growl and stumbled sideways, hand flying up to cradle his face. Stiles squeaked.

“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry!”

“Dammit, Stiles,” Derek said, blinking the red from his eyes. There was a thin gash across his temple, Stiles noticed, but it was already healing and the rain had washed away the blood. The man shook his head and massaged his jaw for a second, before fixing Stiles with a glare. “Come on. We’re going back to the loft.”

“What about the others?”

“You can call them when we’re in the car.”

Stiles sighed, but didn’t protest. He was cold, he was tired, and now his knuckles hurt. He turned around and took one step forward— and then yelped, stumbling back. 

The wendigo lay at his feet with its throat ripped out, blank yellow eyes gazing upward at the storming sky.

Stiles rammed into Derek’s chest and the man caught his shoulder, steadying him before he could fall. Stiles turned his face away from the wendigo and into Derek’s chest without meaning to, bile rising in his throat. Derek’s grip softened.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

“That’s so disgusting, dude.”

“I know,” Derek said, chuckling softly. He led Stiles around the body of the wendigo and they started back through the trees. Stiles huddled deeper into his leather jacket, water dripping from his hair and down his nose. Derek’s arm stayed around his shoulders.

The Camaro wasn’t a far walk, thank goodness. Derek opened the passenger side door and nudged Stiles inside, and he went without a complaint, dropping onto the seat with a wet squelch. He had no doubt he was going to ruin Derek’s fancy leather seats.

The man didn’t say anything, though, pulling himself into the driver’s side seat with a sigh. He shook his head and sent water droplets flying everywhere and, despite himself, Stiles couldn’t resist barking out a laugh.

“Oh my god, dude.”

Derek gave him a confused look. “What?”

“You just— you literally just— oh my god, never mind. I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

Derek looked offended. Stiles reached into the man’s leather jacket pockets and thumbed out his phone. It was surprisingly new for the werewolf; Stiles had expected a flip phone or something.

“I’m calling the pack. Do you mind?”

“Wait, Stiles, no—”

But Stiles had already clicked the phone on. 

Derek went still next to him, hand inches away from yanking the phone from Stiles’s grasp, and all Stiles could do was stare at the lock screen. 

Because… because his own face stared back out at him. One from a picutre he’d taken long ago with the pack, a few days after they’d finished Junior year. Except, the rest of the pack was cropped out. The only thing was Stiles and his grinning face, smile stretching from ear to ear.

Stiles stared at it until the screen went dark again. Then he looked sideways at Derek.

“Derek… why am I your lock screen?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say. He blinked at the man who had gone a brilliant shade of red, before turning to look at the phone again, turning it back on. He bit down on his lower lip and felt a small smile tugs at the edges of his mouth. “Derek, I’m your lock screen.”

Derek made a small noise at the back of his throat and when Stiles looked over again, the man actually looked distressed. Something welled up in his throat. He quickly lowered the phone.

“Why?”

“Stiles, just give it to me.”

But Stiles pulled the phone into his chest, shying away from Derek’s reaching hand. “Derek, why am I your lock screen?”

“Dammit, Stiles, just give it to me!”

Stiles blinked at him. Derek dropped his gaze and drew back his hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

For some reason, that made Stiles’s stomach twist. He loosened his grip on the phone and looked at the man, a surprising emotion of hurt tugging at his heartstrings. “It doesn’t?”

Startled grey-green eyes snapped back up to look at him. Derek didn’t say anything.

“Sorry then,” Stiles murmured, passing the phone back over. “It’s uh, a good photo. My dad has that same one framed. Uh, with the entire pack though.”

Derek’s ears turned red. He took the phone quietly.

The car was silent in exception to the raindrops on the windshield, the faint sound of thunder, and the tapping of Derek as he texted the pack group chat. The message went off with a little ting and then Derek just sat there, eyes not raising from the screen.

Stiles nervously wet his lips. He dug out his own phone and flipped it on, nudging Derek’s side. The man looked over in confusion.

Stiles’s lock screen was the grumpy cat meme. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“What is that.”

“You refuse to take pictures,” Stiles said, feeling his face turn hot. “But when you get all eyebrow-y, it looks like the Grumpy Cat. So… you know. Lock screen.”

Derek’s expression was incredulous. Stiles ran a hand through his wet hair and chuckled nervously. 

“That totally doesn’t mean anything either, though.”

When the man looked back at him, his face was soft. Derek nodded and pulled away, slipping the keys into the ignition. Stiles turned off his phone started to slip it away. But then, before he could loose his nerve, he glanced back at the man.

“But you know, there is this thing called taking selfies. You know, something that friends do when they're uh… friends.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles flushed. 

“Or not.”

“Friends?”

“I mean, you did lend me a jacket. What’s that supposed to mean, Sourwolf?”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles grinned. The man looked constipated for a moment before he turned the car back off and nodded toward Stiles’s phone. Stiles’s heart leaped into his throat. “Really?”

“No one will ever know about this. Or I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.”

And Stiles couldn’t help grinning.

Because yeah, he liked Derek’s leather jacket. Like, he liked-liked the leather jacket. And if Derek one day professed his undying love wearing nothing but the leather jacket, Stiles would have an aneurysm. He would literally die.

But he liked Derek Hale too.

And he thought a lock screen might be a start.

- -

Oh my gosh, I loved writing this one. Thank you both for sending it to me! And sorry about the asks. I sent out that prompt list and my askbox continued to have it’s own aneurysm. 

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[scribbling-stiks]

Puppets - XXXII - Player Six

Russia tries to relax, but he can hear creatures scramble around them just out of sight. He feels very grateful that they had a light; he doesn't want to know what those creatures are here to do. Russia feels Texas sit up and sees him experimentally use his arm, but he hisses and relaxes.

"How's it look?" Texas asks, gesturing to his shoulder with his good arm.

Louisiana leans over and unwraps his wound. There is still swollen, angry tissue visible. Still, the sharper edges had begun stitching themselves back together.

"Ya shouldn't use it, but I think you'll be alright. You feelin' okay?" Louisiana asks, rewrapping the wound.

"It still hurts, but I'll be good. Y'all wanna start lookin' around?" Texas suggests and begins to stand.

"Wait," Massachusetts says, removing his sweatshirt and uses it to tie a makeshift sling, "that should help."

"Thanks," Texas mumbles, and he ducks his head for Massachusetts to secure it.

Canada looks at Russia. "Can you stand?" Canada asks.

Russia shrugs, and using the wall for support, he stands. His leg had stopped bleeding an hour ago, but it is still painful to stand. He limps for a few steps before he gives up using the leg; instead, he sinks against the wall.

"You can lean against me," Canada suggests, "We shouldn't stay in one place for too long."

Russia agrees. Canada comes over and ducks under his arm. Suddenly, Massachusetts' head perks up, and he scrutinizes the area around them.

"I sense Dad's magic. It's faint, but it's here," he says enthusiastically, " he's gotta be here somewhere!"

"Well, what are y'all waiting for? Let's go!" Texas exclaims, rushing forward toward the opening in the wall.

"Wait," Louisiana interrupts, and Texas turns his head to give Louisiana an annoyed look. "We shouldn't go runnin' into this. Illusion magic is everywhere. Might mean that the walls and rooms change," she advises.

"What're we gonna do then? We can't just do nothing!" Texas exclaims.

"Tex, chill. We will go soon, but we havta be careful," Massachusetts replies. Texas huffs in response but slows his stride none the less.

"We should have Mass lead the way, eh? He's the one who senses America's signature," Canada suggests, and Massachusetts takes this as his opportunity to step in front of Texas with a smirk. Texas looks disgruntled but doesn't say anything.

Walking out of the room, Russia finds that a series of deep tunnels surround them. Some looked planned, with rail tracks built into the dirt and stone, but others look like someone had given a child a drill, with messy outlines and strange angles. They continue walking along a set of rail tracks until the path begins to deteriorate the farther they walk visibly.

Seeing that it is getting risky to proceed down the same route, Massachusetts looks around their position, and they backtrack to where the path was up against the wall. In the wall, there is a gaping tunnel a good three times Russia's height. The opening radiates humidity and heat. There is a step up into it around three feet off the ground, and Canada and Louisiana help Russia and Texas up and over the step.

Russia looks around at the murky darkness and the muddy sides that occasionally come into view. He wants to walk by himself but knows that it isn't possible in his current status.

The green glow leaks into only a few of the crevices buried in suffocating darkness only illuminated bare details. Looking around, Russia wishes he had been able to keep his flashlight because the shadows in the corners of his vision keep spiking his heartrate.

The faint light is definitely preferred over complete darkness, but Russia thinks that it could be a little more radiant. Even still, Russia ultimately decides against asking Massachusetts to make a brighter light, as the green glow cast along the walls is enough to see what he needs to, and he knows that Massachusetts already exhausted most of his magic before they were taken.

Russia's nerves also aren't helped by the scuttling things that remain just out of view. He shivers. He hears distant screeching that echos from around them, too distant to locate. The heat and humidity get more intense with every step, and Russia is beginning to get uncomfortable. The states don't seem to be affected by the change in the climate.

"It's getting hot, eh?" Canada comments with a chuckle.

"Yeah, a little," Massachusetts replies with a shrug.

"It's the humidity that's gettin' to me," Texas interjects.

"Well, I think you're just weak," Massachusetts retorts.

"HEY!" Texas exclaims.

"Will both of y'all just settle down!" Louisiana exclaims. Once her brothers quiet down, she turns to the countries, "do y'all need a break? I know y'all aren't used to warmer temperatures," she asks.

"No, I think we're fine," Canada replies.

Louisiana grins, "well, y'all let us know if y'all need anythin'," she says.

Suddenly, Massachusetts stops walking.

"Wha-" Texas starts, but Massachusetts shushes him before he could finish.

"Show yourself!" Massachusetts demands.

After a moment, a face pokes out from behind a nearby rock formation. Their flag is white with a blue cross. Texas readies himself to attack, but Massachusetts signals for him to stand down.

"Tell us who you are where we can see you," Massachusetts directs.

"I'm Finland," the figure responds while emerging from behind the pillar. Finland approaches them slowly, her head swiveling around, searching for any signs of danger.

"Finland? What are you doing down here?" Canada asks, perplexed.

"I was shopping with Sweden. He went into the shop, and I stayed outside. I was taken," she explains, staring at Massachusetts hands. "How are you doing that?" she asks.

"My dad taught me," Massachusetts replies, "are you okay?"

"I have been in the dark for a very long time," she replies.

"Hey, it's okay. Y'all can stay with us," Louisiana offers.

"Thank you," Finland replies, relieved. She walks around Massachusetts immediately notices Russia. Russia looks up and feels a little sheepish. He had never got along with Finland, especially not since they had fought in The Winter War.

She smiles."Hello Russia, are you alright?" she asks.

"I have a wound on my leg," he answers.

She hums in acknowledgment before turning to the rest of the group, "you seem to be looking for something," she prompts.

"We're lookin' for dad," Texas replies. Finland looks at him, confused by the sentiment.

"We're looking for America," Massachusetts corrects, and realization flashes in Finland's eyes.

"He has children?" she asks, bewildered.

"Yup. This is Texas and Massachusetts. I'm Louisiana," Louisiana introduces. Finland hums in thought before shrugging.

"Let's go find your father," she suggests.

Russia doesn't know what to think about Finland's appearance, but he decides that he would play nice, even if just for the states.

~

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[abovethesmokestacks]

I have a request idea for Moodboard-tober if you're still taking them. Chris once mentioned that his favorite Disney princess film was Beauty and the Beast, and my OC has always reminded me of Mal from Descendants, so I was thinking of doing like an adult version of Ben x Mal with Chris x OC (a new co-star/friend with red hair and hazel eyes -to keep with the fall theme right) and Chris invites her to Disney World for their (1/2)

Moodboard-tober 18

The beginnings of a relationship with an Avenger was extremely tricky - balancing time commitments on both your ends while maintaining some normalcy in seeing each other when you could. It was not easy. But dating Steve Rogers was worth the struggle. 

Tonight’s attempt at normalcy was a phone call date while the Avengers were somewhere across the ocean and you were attempting to finish your laundry. “You get home in a few days though, right? Do you want to meet up to do something?”

Steve sighs heavily, the weariness in his voice causing you more concern than what he says. “Shoot, we’re leaving on a team thing right when we get back. I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh... no, that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry honey, Tony is dragging us all to California for something at Disneyland. When he heard most of us hadn’t been before he insisted and before I could say anything he was buying the tickets. I really think it’s just a ruse to take his daughter and she wanted us all there so...”

“Oh wow, for the Halloween Celebration? It’s always looked so fun. I haven’t been either, you’ll have to send me lots of pictures, okay, Rogers?” You do your best to mask the disappointment in your voice, somehow hoping and not hoping at the same time he’d hear how much you missed him.

“Well, if you haven’t been... what if you... came with us?”

You nearly drop the laundry basket you’d had propped on your hip. “Sorry, I think you cut out for a second, can you say that again?”

“Come with the team and me to Disneyland? Tony can get an extra ticket no problem.”

One deep breath in and out, you weigh your options forward. “Steve, that’s skipping like 8 relationship steps.”

His gravelly voice settles you a bit. “That’s fair, but I think we can both agree this isn’t a typical relationship.”

“You’ve got me there,” you breathe a laugh, partially through release the tension in your shoulders. “I guess it’s just strange to me because I never pictured traveling a ton with someone without ‘I love you’s being said.”

The reality of your words hits you like a ton of bricks and you scramble to backtrack until Steve cuts you off.

“Oh, have I not done that yet?” He’s all tease, but your anxiety is too high to register that.

“I mean, I don’t- I’m... I don’t even know what that would look like for me. And for you! This is so new and-”

Steve whispering your name finally stops you. “Can you let me show you? Instead of just talking about it?”

And that week, love looked like mouse ears, Halloween costumes, and festive parades on Main Street USA.

moodboard by abovethesmokestacks

drabble by @hispeculiartreasure

| want to request a moodboard and drabble? |

[bountybossier]

Downward Demon Dog | Rebecca & Nicodemus

Of course it would be a goddamn pricolici on yoga Wednesday. 

Set during Into the Darkness PotW.

With: @exorciseyourspirit 

With all the stress of being back in White Crest, and having to focus on meditation instead of sleeping, Rebecca had been looking for a good way to help clear her mind and relax. The answer, she supposed, was a hobby. Outside of hunting down magical objects and teaching. And the poster had said yoga could be relaxing and help with stress. Plus, it would help keep her in shape. It was worth a shot, and with the sun on sabbatical, she supposed now was as good a time as any to occupy her mind, lest she stray from her path to try and start solving all this town’s problems. They’d nearly fallen into that trap the first time they’d ended up in White Crest, what with Theo’s dedication to her sacred duty. Not this time, Rebecca had told herself.

The class itself was easy, and by the end of it, Rebecca did feel more loose, and less like her body was going to coil up and shoot off like a loaded spring. But the sky was still dark when she opened the doors, a man following close behind her, and there was a concerning chill in the air. Not a recognizable one, not a ghost, but...perhaps something more sinister. That’s when Rebecca heard the scream. Her feet took off before she even registered what she was doing, iron coated dagger brandished. She barely even noticed the man following right behind her.

It was a well kept secret that Nicodemus glowered his way through local yoga classes. Spent some time to align some of his fucking chakras and work on breathing techniques. Whatever that even meant. The sun giving up the ghost didn’t affect that much and with how...off he felt, maybe it would do something. He didn’t count on it but it got him out of the goddamn Traveler and that was gift enough in itself. He didn’t talk to anyone as he pushed himself into downward dogs, warrior poses, and crow poses. As it turned out, focusing on his breath and the ache of his muscles that hadn’t seen rest in fucking days did help some. Not that he would admit it.

On the way out, he grunted some sound of departure and left out the door that was still wide open from the woman in front of him. His senses were already shot but something, he couldn’t tell what, was looming nearby. Loosely covered under a tarp in the back of his truck was some supplies that could be used for a hunt. A hunt that he right then didn’t want to deal with. A scream concluded that he might have to as someone from the class took off in the direction of the scream. With a knife in hand. Damn it. He wasn’t dressed for this but if yoga was cancelled because someone went off and fucking died... Jogging, he stopped by the back of his truck to grab two of his hunting knives and a gun. They jostled awkwardly in the pockets of his basketball shorts as he caught up to the woman. “Yoga not enough, huh?” He said, far from breathless. “Heard that scream too?”

By the time Rebecca reached where she thought the scream had come from, she was winded enough to where she’d needed to stop and survey the surroundings. The man had showed up not sooner after, not even slightly winded. Either he was really fit or really not entirely human. Hunter, perhaps? If he’d come running for a scream, it seemed logical. “I did,” she said, giving a little smirk. “Are you kidding? Yoga was just the warm up.” Something toppled, more muffled voices coming from ahead of them. She squinted into the dark, but her vision, already blurred, couldn’t cut through it. “Do you see anything? Anyone?” She paused, trying to make out the dark lump ahead of them, the strangled cries. Bones crunched and she shivered. This wasn’t good. Steeling herself, she let the man scoot in front of her. She wasn’t weak, per say, but she certainly didn’t have superstrength.

The hunter breathed in slow and steady through his nose as he came to a stop beside her. “Yeah, don’t know if a fuckin’ mountain pose is the right shit for this, but ‘spose we’ll find out,” Nicodemus mumbled as he cocked his head and squinted into the dark. His shot nerves and senses worked in spite of. Something was awful close. Blood was too. Fresh, he could tell, as the breeze brought that copper smell straight to him. He crouched down and looked harder, eyesight shifting from the well-lit parking lot to the dim woods. A couple blinks and it was there. “What used to be someone. Fuck me,” he grumbled. Whoever, whatever they were, they weren’t that anymore. Reduced to a mess of flesh. His eyes ticked upward from the mess of flesh to the thick branch several feet about it. Red eyes met his own. Red-coated teeth bared for a second before it dropped, fast as fuck. The creature, tall and big in a fuck off kind of way, hefted the mass of flesh that used to be someone and threw it effortlessly at the pair. “Oh fuck me sideways!” Nicodemus rolled back. Guns clattered out of his pockets as he tumbled back, body low beside the woman’s. Nicodemus inwardly swore. Of course it would be a goddamn pricolici on yoga Wednesday. Why wouldn’t it be? “Fuckin’ course, ain’t this just the way.”

Rebecca squinted into the darkness in the direction the man was looking. For a moment, things faded, and it felt like something was swirling in her vision, before she blinked. A THUD! Followed as something big and heavy fell to ground. She had to cover her mouth at the sight. She was used to seeing ghosts maimed and even old, rotted bodies. But fresh kills...fresh blood. That wasn’t her thing. The smell was almost overwhelming. She held her dagger up, though, ready to back up the other guy if he needed it. Hashem, she kinda hoped he didn’t. But she couldn’t run away now. Rebecca Rothbard wasn’t a coward. This had been more of Theo’s thing, though. Suddenly, the body was being launched at them, and Rebecca had no more time for thoughts or wishes-- she was a part of this no matter what. Ducking out of the way, she rolled behind the man, trying to remember any sort of holding spell she could think of. Mind wavering again, as she fought to keep control of herself. “What is that!?” she asked under a hushed breath, voice quivering just slightly. “A werewolf?” She went to reach for one of the guns that had clattered from his pockets, already closer than him, when the thing snarled, and launched itself at them. Rebecca’s eyes widened, hands going up-- she wasn’t fast enough, she couldn’t get out of the way. And just like that, it looked like something solid but invisible slammed into the creature, sending it backwards. I told you, said the voice in her head, I can help.

Nicodemus huffed a breath and kept his eyes forward. Yoga was supposed to align his chakras or some shit, but with a pricolici throwing bodies the way it was, didn’t seem likely. Fucking of course not. “Somethin’ like that.” He muttered as he spared a quick glance her way. Quickly, he reached for a gun. He bristled as the pricolici launched itself forward, all muscle and rage. Fuck, she wasn’t about to get goddamn eaten in front of him, was he? No. That wasn’t the case. Something stopped it mid-flight and sent it ass over head backwards. He was only confused momentarily as he finally got a grip on one of the guns and stood up. The hunter looked at her. “The fuck was that? That you?” If she didn’t, they might be more fucked than initially thought. The vampire dog was up and recovered by the time he finished checking the silver bullet count in them. With the night looming ever-present as it was, it was the smart choice to ensure that everything he took out with him was loaded with silver in some capacity. “Pricolici. Werewolf vampire dog,” he said, telling it to her straight. He fired off a round at the red-eyed mass heading towards them and started moving himself. “Gonna have to move!”

“No,” Rebecca hissed under her breath, shaking her head. “I don’t need your help.” She was already scrambling back to her feet when she heard a gun shot, echoing around them. Had he hit it? Looked like it, but the-- vampire werewolf??-- barely faltered. She’d heard stories about them, but thought they were just scary stories werewolf mothers told their children to keep them out of the streets at night and remind them they weren’t invincible. Struggling to her feet, Rebecca grabbed her shoulder, wincing a bit. She followed quickly after him, still holding up her dagger. “You don’t happen to have an extra of those, do you?” she asked, nodding at his gun. “I might not look it, but I’m a pretty good shot. Though it’s usually salt coming out of my gun, not real bullets.”

The hunter shot her a slightly wary look. Looked like they weren’t going to discuss what the fuck it was that just happened. As Nicodemus tracked the red eyes through the dense wood, he figured it was a fair enough decision. Pricolici’s made it real fucking hard to hold civil conversation. “Sure as shit do,” he answered, a gunshot all the punctuation necessary as he backtracked to grab the other one and hand it to her. Not the most ideal place to huff out a laugh but he did anyway. “Exorcist? Hell of a town to be.” The pricolici’s legs bunched as it dove to use an adjacent tree as leverage to spring off of, a red-eyed black mass of yellow teeth. Nicodemus shifted on his feet only to lose traction and stumble slightly. He shot a look at the mangled mass of meat that was once a person underfoot. “Oh damn it all.” The pricolici sped towards him like a semi-truck, mouth open wide to try and bite down on him. A bullet in the mouth stopped that train of thought but did jack shit to stop the momentum as the creature hit the hunter dead on. The tree behind him snapped with their combined weight. He was pretty sure a rib or two did too.

“Yes, well, weird draws weird, doesn’t it?” Rebecca said back, taking the gun gratefully. But before she could do much more, the Pricolici was bounding for them again. The hunter took aim, but his foot was already in the puddle of human mush before Rebecca could warn him. “Watch--” she started, but was knocked back by the passing body of the were-monster, stumbling slightly. The loud gunshot rang in her ears and she straightened, watching the two of them tumble into a tree, snapping straight through it. Oh, that had to hurt. Rebecca rushed over, gun held up. It was whimpering and bleeding, and she took the opportunity to take the shot. Straight through the brain, and the creature flopped over next to the now downed hunter. Panting, she came over to him, holding out her hand. “Are you alright? You weren’t bit, were you?”

“No kiddin’,” Nicodemus huffed out. Well, that was blood in his mouth and he knew the feeling of a cracked rib when it happened. Groovy. He took her offered hand as he pulled himself up, concealing a wince as he did. “...Thanks.” The town was fucking him up. Slipping on a fucking carcass? Jesus Christ, it might as well have been goddamn amateur hour at the O.K. Corral. He pressed the barrel of his own gun against the back of the pricolici and fired once into where its heart would be. Didn’t hurt to make doubly sure and when he glanced back at her, he shrugged. An exorcist in White Crest. Always good to have considering the ghost bullshit he wanted nothing to do with. “Better than him, so yeah, doin’ alright. Not bit either. Bite from this fuck only does shit to vampires or wolves. You good?” Now that the danger with big goddamn teeth was dealt with, he could do a couple rounds of deep breathing. Just like at yoga. He looked back into the dark where the creature had come from. Chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Was that you? The whole...invisible slammin’ thing? Don’t care if it was, just makin’ sure there ain’t other shit lurkin’ and all.”

When he stood, Rebecca winced for him-- he looked like he was in quite a bit of pain, probably a few broken ribs. She turned her head away as he finished the pricolici off, one quick shot to the head. She held the gun back out to him, hands shaking a bit. “It...yes,” she answered. No sense in hiding it. “But yes,” she sighed, “I’m good.” She looked down at the two messes they’d made-- well, the one they’d made, and the one they hadn’t been able to prevent. She went over to the mangled body, but couldn’t bring herself to look for too long. “I can’t tell who it was, we should probably...call the police,” she murmured. She was tired, he looked tired. Standing, she sighed. “I can drive you somewhere, if you need, too. The least I can do since you helped me out. I’d probably be, well,” she motioned to the pile on the ground vaguely.

He said nothing as he took the gun back. Noted the way the gun between them transferred her own trembling to his hand. Nicodemus’s brow pinched as he glanced down at the mess. How different it might have been between spirits or whatever she dealt with and the oncoming fangs of a pissed off pricolici, he didn’t know. But considering they both had come out of yoga not at all prepared to deal with any bullshit, they did alright. “Don’t know nothin’ about all that shit,” he said, honest as he could be. “But, uh, you did good. With...yeah.” He got the point across and didn’t want to break into a rambling mess. There was enough of that around them as it was. “I can’t either. Call when we get out of here, I ‘spose” he said with a nod. He heaved a sigh as he slid the guns back into the pockets of his shorts. Ignored the absurdity of the entire fucking situation. “Hell, we both would be. Don’t know about you but I could use a fuckin’ beer,” he said as he glanced at her. “...Nic. Uh, Nicodemus. That’s me.”

“Good is...a word for it, I suppose,” Rebecca said, letting out a long breath. The shaking was calming, the more she became aware that the danger was over-- but for her, was it really ever? She hadn’t quite been expecting to fight a monster after yoga tonight, but at least she was already limber which meant no pulled muscles this time. “Well, I don’t quite know much about all this shit. Though, I know some. I used to know a Slayer-- er undead Hunter,” she said quietly, cleaning herself off a little as they headed away. She pulled out her phone, ready to dial. “A beer, or a stiff drink, at the very least,” she nodded, holding out her free hand. “Rebecca. So...you come to yoga here often? Not sure I’ve seen you around before.”

“Better fuckin’ word than most,” Nicodemus said with a barely-there laugh. Even after an hour long session of yoga and listening to fucking rain or whatever the instructor had playing, he felt tense. Nearly getting mauled by a pricolici could do that to someone, he supposed. Or seeing someone else nearly get mauled. Ain’t that something. “Fair. I don’t know a fuckin’ thing about...spirits or whatever. Ain’t real keen on it.” Magic and spirits. Two things he didn’t want to occupy too much of his time. But he was curious and the look he gave her might have said as much. “Know a slayer or two myself,” he said. “Always found a whiskey or two gets rid of problems.” Or starts them, depending on the night. He took her offered hand and gave it a firm shake. Christ, when was the last time he ever shook anyone’s hand? People up north didn’t seem to care for it, last he remembered. “Yeah, well, accordin’ to some internet quiz, my chakras ain’t real aligned and I gotta get those fuckers righted. Figured yoga might do it.” He folded his arms loosely as they walked out of the dark wood and away from the mangled mess. “Ain’t seen you either, but hell, guess it’s good we did get some yoga in. Might’ve pulled somethin’ if we didn’t.” And Jesus, as if pulling an ass muscle in front of a pricolici wouldn’t be at the top of embarrassing shit that could happen to a person.

Rebecca shook his hand, callous and firm, a strong grip. She was reminded of her grandfather always preaching the stereotypical ‘You know a man is good if he’s got a strong handshake’ bullshit, and she remembered how long she spent making sure hers was always firmer and stronger than the men whose hands she was forced to shake. This, however, was different. She gave a shrug. “To each our own,” she said. They all specialized for a reason, after all. No one could do it all. Let the slayer comment lie-- she didn’t need to reconnect with any of them in town, not if she wasn’t going to stick around. Not if they were just going to remind her of Theo and what she’d lost. She did, however, chuckle at his chakra comment, shaking her head. “And you believe it? Well...as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m glad that quiz made you sign up, otherwise I’d’ve been uh-- what’d you call it again-- Pricolici-- meat.” She gestured towards the bar across the street. “Either way, I think we’ve both earned that whiskey, don’t you?”

[littlefrostwrites]

Prompt: Scars

For my weekly challenge

It’s been a month since Angelica best me during our solo hunting challenge. A month since she captured and killed her assigned werewolf case, a month since I tried to track down a vampire coven, only to arrive at a deserted lair  and placed back at square one. (I’ve not made much progress on that case since either).   

One month since Angelica’s been acting weird. 

My sister and I, despite being twins, are not very close. We used to do everything together, but that was before mom and dad were murdered, before Aunt Gemima and Uncle Justin took us in, before Aunt Gemima declared me the favourite. Angelica and my cousin Charlie say it’s because I look like my dad, Aunt Gemima’s brother, and since my favouritism is not due to anything I truly earned, perhaps their hatred of me is justified. I haven’t figured out how I feel about it yet, only that while it’s furthered my training and the opportunities given to me, it’s driven a wedge between Angelica, Charlie and I. But I digress. Angelica and I are not very close, and because of her dislike of me, we tend to avoid each other. I don’t know much about her life outside of training, and nor her mine, apart from what we share at the dinner table. And therefore, I don’t notice her change in appearance until I discover an entire box of unopened contact lenses in the dumpster behind our house.   

It was Angelica’s turn to take out the trash this week, but I had gone dumpster diving for my retainer. I finally got my braces taken off the week before, and therefore was at that stage where I had to wear my retainer all day for the next two months before I could switch to a purely nightly routine. Thankfully, I was given those clear Invisalign type of retainers, rather than the wire ones, so even though I still kinda had a lisp, my teeth were unobstructed for once. I took my retainer out during dinner, but it’s pretty gross to just leave it on the table for everyone to see, so I tend to wrap it in a napkin. Tonight, Uncle Justin spilled his beer of the entire table, and I was being helpful so I cleaned the whole thing up for him. I had bunched up all the soggy and used napkins on the table and thrown them in the trash. It wasn’t until later that night, after my sister took out the trash (therefore emptying that trash bin as well), and I was brushing my teeth did I realize that I had never put my retainer back on after dinner. Because my retainers were wrapped in a napkin in the dumpster behind my house. So naturally, I freaked out and dropped my toothbrush, rushing outside with unrinsed toothpaste still in my mouth and scrambled through our dumpster with only the flashlight from my phone to guide me. I found my retainer, but I also found two whole boxes of contacts in the trash. They were unopened boxes, and checking the expiry date, still useable. So why were they in the trash? Angelica’s had bad eyes since we were six years old. She tends to take after mom, while I am more like dad, and she also got her bad eyesight. She transitioned into wearing contacts as soon as our aunt deemed her old enough to be responsible enough to properly take care of the hygienic aspects of it, since glasses are sort of a hindrance to monster hunting. She’s the only one in the house who wears contacts and therefore, these are undoubtedly hers. But why would she throw them out?   

I’m not sure what to do, the situation is just so weird. Maybe there’s a perfectly logical reason for her throwing out her contacts. But not really, if anything she should need them more, especially since she broke her glasses a couple weeks ago. Her new ones only arrive a couple of days ago. Maybe Angelica just doesn’t want to wear contacts anymore? But no, and I think back the past week and only remember seeing my sister with glasses on in the morning and evening when we’re at home, with no glasses on during school or training, presumably wearing contacts. But perhaps not?   

Maybe her vision somehow got better? But then she was still wearing glasses, so that didn’t make sense. Unless the glasses were fake, with no prescription? I wasn’t sure, but I felt weird about the situation. So I grabbed my retainer and the boxes of contacts, stuffed everything back into the dumpster and went back in the house and up to my room, checking my surroundings to make sure that nobody would see me with the contacts. I felt strongly for some reason that I should keep this to myself for now. I stashed the boxes under my bed, finished brushing my teeth (also dunking my retainer in some strong cleaning fluid) and went to sleep.   

The next morning, when I got to breakfast, I saw that Angelica and Charlie were already there and that my sister was not wearing her glasses. So I backtracked, citing that I had forgotten something in my room, but instead snuck into her room looking for her glasses. They were on her nightstand, and when I picked them up, they felt very light. There were lenses in the frames, but when I looked through them, there was no image distortion so I put them on. And I could see normally. These weren’t prescription glasses. Somehow, Angelica’s eyes was completely normal now. Something had happened, something she didn’t feel she could share with their family. And I think I knew what.   

** 

I started paying more attention to my sister from then on. I noticed a lot of things about her that had passed me by. Angelica’s always been faster than me, but lately it seems she’s beating me by even more, and though I’m naturally better at hand-to-hand combat, it’s getting hard to fight against her. Two days after the dumpster incidence, she nearly dodged a kick that she definitely wouldn’t have been able to before. Only nearly though because she hesitated mid dodge, allowing the strike to connect, almost as if she was holding back. Four days after that, I went to the movies with a girl from my school, Cassandra, and we had messed around a bit in my car after. When I came home, Angelica, who had been sitting in the living room, bolted up, nose in the air, before scrunching it as if in disgust and, giving me a glare, stalked to her room with her hand over her nose. A week after that, my lacrosse teammates pointed out that she had lost some weight, although they brought it to my attention with a comment that I quickly shot down (not cool man, that’s my sister). Last summer, Angelica had gone through a failed course of Accutane, but lately her skin was completely clear. When I mentioned it to Charlie, he just gave me a weird look and told me our GP had given her some antibiotics and it must have worked. In fact, all of her skin was unnaturally unblemished. I noticed during a run on an unnaturally warm day that the large scar that she’s had since we were ten years old and on our first (supervised) mission, a lash from the whip of the Dullahan we’d been tracking for days on her right shoulder. The human spines of the whip had carved thick and deep lines into her skin, and her skin had healed with ragged ridges, but now Angelica’s shoulder was completely smooth. Spotless.   

**   

I had planned on confronting my sister with my theory about her odd behaviour, but I never got a chance. Being a member of a prominent monster hunting family made us targets, but we had never been attacked in our own territory though. Charlie and I had been on our early morning run, taking a familiar route, when suddenly I was hit by a large mass, thrown completely to the side. I managed to turn my momentum into an awkward roll, and took out the knife stashed in my running belt. I faced the massive wolf, knife in hand ready to strike, and then was distracted by the sight of Charlie on the phone. HE was talking urgently, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying, my blood rushing through my eyes drowning out all noise except for my own ragged breaths. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I used the energy to make the first strike, but was thrown off guard by a howl. Angelica burst into the clearing and tackled the wolf, pinning it down and growling. Her eyes flashed red. Whimpering, the wolf struggled underneath her. My sister lunged with a warning bit to the jugular, but purposefully aimed not for the jugular, causing pain, but not death. Then she left the wolf go. It immediately ran out of sight. Angelica spat out the blood in her mouth and then wiped her face with her hand. Charlie ran over to her, placing a hand on her arm, checking in. I didn’t move, I didn’t say anything. I had suspected, but to have it confirmed so abruptly… 

My sister is a werewolf. 

I willed myself to stand and in two strides at was at her side. I pulled her away from Charlie, roughly grasping her shoulders. “Let me see it,” I demanded. “The bite.” She bit her lip hesitant, but then pulled up the hem of the shorts she was wearing, revealing grotesque warped red shiny skin, perfectly imprinted bite marks against her inner right thigh. Seeing the bite, the only scar that remained on a bitten werewolf, confirmed everything to me, as if all the evidence hadn’t already been in front of me.   

I staggered back. Angelica stepped forward, chasing me, concern and fear on her face, and I immediately turn my knife on her, dropping into a defensive position on reflex. Charlie stepped between us. He held one arm in front of Angelica, as if to protect her, or perhaps prevent her from coming any closer to me, and extended his other arm to grasp my knife arm. He didn’t apply any pressure to make me drop my knife, though he could have, especially in my stunned state. He seemed to understand that I was thinking madly, trying to make sense of the situation. This wasn’t the way I had hoped to confront my sister. 

“What are you going to do?” he asked, eyes gazing intently into mine. Charlie has always been an independent thinker, and that’s why despite being her own son, Aunt Gemima loved me more. I was the stringent rule follower, while he questioned our hunter’s code at every turn. And he was questioning me now, face open and oddly nonjudgemental. He truly seemed curious of my answer. I looked past him, at Angelica, whose expression matched his, intent and solemn. What am I going to do now? 

My answer came out as a sob, a plea.   

“I don’t know.” 

**************************************************   author’s note to self: this is terrible. It’s so terrible, I literally am not going to read over at all because I know I’m going to cringe and want to fix everything and I just don’t have time. The plot has so many holes in it, the characters, well, don’t have much character. I just realized we don’t even know what the narrator’s name is. I know this is terrible because I finally settled on a story idea for this week’s prompt on Thursday, wrote a shit outline on Friday and then wrote all of this in a couple of hours on Saturday. This idea wasn’t well fleshed out and for me to be completely satisfied with it, I would have likely written a 10k word long story. And required many hours of editing. That isn’t suitable for a weekly short story challenge, especially at my current writing output and hours required for real-world commitments.  So reminder for next week: pick a simple plot, don’t focus on perfection! You already posted something terrible, can’t really get worse than this. AND START EARLY. But at least I finished writing a story for the first time in years? So small wins I guess.

[afternoonteawithme]

It was lucky that Eren made so much noise, or Levi would have been lost the moment he stepped out of his yard. Within ten minutes, he was scratched up, itchy with bug bites, and limping.  

He hadn’t known how different real woods were from the neat, carefully planned clumps of trees in the city parks he and his mom had sometimes visited. This forest was messy, uneven all over. Thick trunks and twig-like saplings fought for space, blocking out what was left of the daylight and leaving Levi in a dim fogginess of light that seemed to come from no direction at all.

In the city, trees had soft, trimmed grass underneath, or at least simple bare dirt. When they fell, they weren’t left to slowly, messily, disintegrate back into the ground wherever they’d landed.  

Out here, Levi had quickly discovered that he couldn’t just follow the clinking of Eren’s jars in a straight line. In between the fallen trees were tall patches of skinny weeds that knotted together to form what felt like barbed wire against his bare legs when he tried to force his way through. Instead, he had to carefully pick his way, sometimes backtracking when he ran into a dead end of too-heavy underbrush. It wasn’t easy, and as Levi stepped – yet again – on something that squished up between his toes, he felt the concern that had driven him after Eren mix with more and more irritation.

Fine then. He’d just find out what idiotic thing had brought Eren out here, make sure it wasn’t stupid enough to land him back in the hospital, and then turn right around and head home for a long shower.

He realized he couldn’t hear Eren anymore a split second before he stepped into a small clearing, and saw Eren in front of him.

The mason jars lay discarded on the bank of a small, bubbling creek, next to a pair of muddy sneakers and half rolled-up socks. Eren stood perfectly still, knee deep in the middle of the creek, staring down into the water. He didn’t look as though he’d noticed Levi, and Levi took a half step backwards, ready to head back into the protection of the forest.

But then, without thought, and obeying some instinct he didn’t know, he found himself racing towards the water’s edge, dropping his backpack to the ground as he ran. Even then, he was almost too late – Eren shifted his weight, slipped, and started to go down headfirst into the rocky water. Levi caught hold of one arm, just above the cast, and yanked backwards.

He landed on his back on the bank of the creek, his feet still in the water. A second later Eren’s upper body landed on top of his chest, elbow first.

When Levi was finally able to breathe again, he found curious brown eyes staring down at him, not a trace of alarm in them.  

“Hi. Who are you?” Eren had pushed himself up on his good arm enough that his weight wasn’t on Levi anymore, but otherwise he hadn’t moved away at all.

Levi hadn’t talked to anyone but store clerks in months. He hadn’t meant to ever speak to Eren, and he couldn’t think of anything to say now. So he just shrugged.

“Don’t you know your own name?”

For some reason, it was the simple interest in Eren’s voice, as if it was a perfectly reasonable thing for a person to not know their own name, that made it impossible for Levi to not answer. “No, I know it.”

“Then what is it?”  

“Levi. I’m Levi.”

“Levi? Okay.” Eren grinned down at him. “Mine’s Eren.”

I know. Dropping his eyes away from Eren’s face, Levi shifted sideways on the rocky grass, trying to get a little further away from Eren. “Could you move? You’re in my way.”

Without a word, Eren pushed away, settling cross-legged next to Levi. He stayed quiet as he watched Levi sit up, but a moment later there was a flash of realization on his face. “Oh, I know who you are!”

“What?” Levi felt panic burst in his chest.  

“You’re the kid from next door. Armin said you must be related to Mr. Ackerman and I wanted to go over and check but mom didn’t believe me and she said Mr. Ackerman doesn’t like company so I should just leave him alone.”

“No, that’s…I’m not-”

But whatever he might have managed to say was lost when Eren’s eyes dropped down to Levi’s bare feet. “Wait, where are your shoes?” He scrambled up from the ground, already heading into the water. “Did you lose them in the creek?”

“No, no.” Levi shot straight to his feet, but Eren was already ankle deep before he managed to catch his hand. “You shouldn’t go in there. You can’t get your cast wet, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” Eren held up his cast, staring down at it as if he’d forgotten about it entirely, which he probably had. He looked back up at Levi. “So then what happened to your shoes?”

“They ripped on my way here, so I left them behind.”

“Oh. Didn’t you have any others?”

“Of course I did.” There was no way Levi would answer that one honestly. “I was just in a rush.”

“Why?”

Finally remembering how irritated he’d been earlier, Levi scowled at Eren. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid. And you were.”

Eren’s eyes widened. “No, I wasn’t!”

“What were you doing in the creek?”

“I was fishing!”

Taken aback, Levi let go of Eren’s hand. “Fishing?”

“Yeah. Armin – my friend Armin - read this book where a bunch of superhero guys lose their powers, and run away from the bad guys, and they survive by catching fish with their bare hands.” The last was said over Eren’s shoulder as he turned and started back into the creek.

“You came out here to catch fish.” It was meant to be a question, but somehow Levi couldn’t make it anything but a bewildered statement.

“No.” Eren splashed into the middle of the creek, his eyes fixed on the water. “I came to catch fireflies. I just remembered the fish thing when I saw the creek.”

Levi was too confused to be irritated anymore. “But – wouldn’t you need two hands? And you have the cast, right?”

“Well yeah.” Eren stopped moving, frowning down at his arm as if he’d forgotten about it, yet again. “That does make it harder.”

“Are there even fish here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never fished before, how do you tell?”  

“I’ve never fished before either.”

Eren glanced back over his shoulder at Levi, grinning. “Then this is both of our first times.”

Levi managed not to remind Eren he was the only one involved. “Have you caught any?”

“No, but I think I can do it with one hand, if I’m carefu-” Eren stepped onto another rock, slipped, and started to go down.

Darting forward, Levi managed to catch Eren just in time. “I’ll do it.” He found himself saying, as he helped Eren stand back up. “Just- stay out of the water, okay?”

“Really?” Eren studied him for a long minute. This time, when he smiled, it was so bright that Levi had to look away. “Sure!”

Levi stayed where he was, watching Eren splash back out of the creek, wondering what in the world had made him volunteer. Huffing out a breath, he turned back to the water, looking for a good spot to stand.

“So is Mr. Ackerman your uncle?”

Levi froze, but when his eyes shot back to Eren he saw he wasn’t even looking his way. Instead he was frowning down at his broken arm as he rubbed at his shoulder.

 “Did I hurt you when I pulled you out of the creek?” The question was only partly an attempt at changing the subject.

“Huh?” Eren blinked up at Levi, then shook his head. “Not really. It’s always a little sore. My dad says I deserved way worse.”

As Levi turned back to the water, he finally asked what had been bothering him for a long time. “How did you break it?”

“Well.” Eren sat at the edge of the water and started putting his shoes and socks back on. “I saw these guys from my school that were ganging up on a dog.”

“They broke your arm?”

“No, no, they ran off. Actually they were probably running before I got there because the dog had gotten really mad and got loose of the rope they had him tied up with. So they ran, but he ended up chasing me instead.”

“The dog did that to you?”

“Not really. But the dog kept after me for ages, even when I climbed a fence to where there’s this bridge over an old railway track. Armin figured out that’s where I’d end up so he went ahead and put out some meat from our lunches, and Mikasa did this loop thing, so they caught him and tied him to a tree.” Eren finished tying his shoes and picked up one of the mason jars as he stood back up. “Armin got the dog to calm down. He’s really good with animals, I keep telling him he should be a vet, but he wants to be a doctor.” There was a vast amount of disgust in Eren’s voice as he said the last word.

Completely distracted, Levi stood calf deep in water, staring at Eren. “What’s so bad about doctors?”

“Not doctors. People. And if you’re a doctor you have to treat people.” Eren had unscrewed the top of the mason jar and seemed to be hunting around the clearing for something. “They suck, and they lie all the time. Most people, anyway. Not my mom, she’s good, and my dad’s amazing. He’s a really important doctor, so he can be mean to people if he wants to and its okay. And Mikasa and Armin. And I guess Sasha and Connie and Annie. And Jean can go jump in a lake of poop, or piranhas or something, but I don’t want him to die just because he doesn’t have a doctor.”

Eren stopped wandering around the clearing long enough to look back at Levi. He studied him for a long second, and then nodded. “And I like you.” He turned back to whatever he was doing with the mason jar.

Levi blinked, “What?”

“You’re decent. Even if you keep changing the subject when I ask about Mr. Ackerman”

Blindsided, Levi could only manage, “I only changed the subject once.”

Eren paused, staring up at the trees over their head as he thought. “Huh, I guess so.” He shot a grin over his shoulder at Levi. “I still like you. And I still think Armin being a doctor is a bad idea.”

“Unless you pick who he treats.”

“That’d be awesome.” Eren shook his head. “He won’t go for that, though. He actually likes people, even though he’s not stupid so he knows what they’re like.”    

Levi watched as Eren kept moving around the clearing. He had no idea what Eren was doing, but he was sure it was something interesting. “So how did you break your arm, in the end?”

“Oh yeah, I never finished, right? Well after we got the dog all tied up and we backed off, one of those jerks that had been throwing rocks and stuff at the dog came up, only he wasn’t really a jerk because he was coming to make sure we were okay because he’d just been there and had actually been trying to stop the others but I didn’t know that so I got mad and ran at him. And then I slipped and fell off the edge of the bridge.”

By the time he finished, Levi could only stare at him, speechless.

“It wasn’t too far down, but I still broke my arm.”

“I see.” Was all Levi could manage.

“Uh-huh.”

At a loss, Levi turned back to the water. There was just enough light that he could see a few dark shapes darting around under the surface. Before he had time to think, he grabbed at one. As he stood back up he heard Eren yelling.

“You got one!”

“I did.” Levi studied the strange, wiggling thing in his hands. “What now?”

Eren came to the edge of the water. “Take it home and cook it, I guess.”

They both stared at the fish, neither one moving to take it anywhere.

“Don’t you have to do stuff to them before you can cook them? Do you think your mom would-”

“No.” Eren interrupted firmly. “No she would not.” And then he started giggling.

Levi felt lips twitch, and heard something like a giggle come from his own mouth. It startled him enough that it made him stop, but he couldn’t help smiling at the look on Eren’s face. “I’m going to put it back.”

“Please. Yes.”

Levi dropped the fish and watched it disappear into the rocks under the water. When he looked back up he found Eren grinning at him.

“I guess I didn’t really think this through, huh?”

Levi cocked his head, “Do you ever?”

Eren laughed, unoffended. “That’s what Mom says too. I do, though, I just forget sometimes. I’m not stupid, though. Mikasa says I’m an idiot sometimes, but I’m never stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. Strange, and yes, an idiot sometimes, but not stupid.”

Eren laughed again. “I do like you. You’re nice.”

Levi found himself giggling again. It was a little less of a shock this time. “That’s nice?”

“Uh-huh. You don’t lie. You should laugh more. It makes you sound like a kid.”

“I am a kid.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Before Levi could ask what Eren meant, he heard Eren suddenly suck in a breath as he frantically looked around the clearing. “Wait, what time is it? It’s so dark.”

He grabbed the second mason jar, and then shot towards Levi, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him after him as he ran back towards the woods. “We have to go, my mom will be home soon.”

Levi snagged his backpack as they ran past it. “She’s probably been back for ages. And why do I have to come with you?”

“Are you kidding? You’re my only hope. If I can distract her with you she might not kill me.”

Levi dug in his heels, yanking his hand away from Eren’s.

Eren’s feet came to a halt, and he looked back at Levi. It really was getting dark enough under the trees that Levi couldn’t quite make out Eren’s expression.

“I don’t want her to see me.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t.” He knew enough about the world to know that any normal adult would report a kid living on their own, and then they’d take him away from Uncle Kenny.

“Okay.” Eren walked back, grabbed Levi’s arm, and started towards their houses again. “Then you can leave before we reach my yard.”

Levi thought for a moment, but he didn’t pull away again, “Okay.”

“But just so you know, it’ll be a little bit your fault if my mom kills me for this.”

“No it won’t be. I just kept you from landing in the water. She’d have been even madder then.”

Levi heard Eren laugh, and couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his own face.  

 --

 They weren’t quite back to the yard before Karla appeared in front of them. She was clearly furious, but all expression left her face as her eyes travelled from Eren to Levi.

Instantly, Eren let go of Levi’s hand and shifted until he stood directly in front of him, blocking Levi from Karla’s view. “Mom. I’m sorry I went into the woods.”

Taken aback, Karla studied him. “Alright, we’ll deal with that later. Who is this?” She stepped to the side until she could see Levi’s face again.

“Nobody. He doesn’t have anything to do with me being there.” Eren moved to block her view again.

This time, she made no attempt to move past him to see Levi. Instead, she studied Eren’s face for a long minute. Finally, she nodded. “Then say goodbye to your friend and be inside the house in five minutes or whatever hell I decide to put you through will be doubled. Okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away.  

Levi stared after her, and then turned to look at Eren’s grinning face.

“See, she’s pretty awesome, right?”

[redvelvetreel]

Red Velvet Reel 10.2: Hiper-Billirubinado

[Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: What could be more romantic than letting your SO sleep in and make them a delicious brunch spread?! Edge can actually think of a lot of things, but if Stretch really wants him to eat these chicken and waffle things, then its his husband’s good luck he married such an accomodating, nice guy. 

Characters: Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Edge (Underfell Papyrus)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! (Implied) Mood swings! Very eager to please Stretch and very confused Edge! Domestic Fluff! Cooking and cooking mishaps! 

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: Title based on the Juan Luis Guerra song “Me Sube la Billirubina.”

Oye, y me trastearon hasta el alma They even poked around my soul Con rayos equis y cirugía With x-rays and surgeries Y es que la ciencia no funciona And it turns out science just doesn’t work Sólo tus besos, vida mía Just your kisses, my life

It was mortifying to be sleeping in. Ever since he was a child, Edge had always been an early riser. There was always so much to do, he sometimes wished he didn’t have to sleep at all! He was the one who woke people up! It was wrong on a cosmic level for Stretch, the king of naps and drowsy lazing around, to be awake before him. To be productive while Edge was still sleeping!

He was still trying to rub sleep out of his sockets, slippers padding on the wood floors quietly, when he entered the kitchen.

“Papí, no me-“ Edge shook his head, trying to focus on his words, “Don’t let me sleep late-“

Edge froze, taking in the sight of his kitchen. Used dishes and bowls all along the counter and in the sink, every single spoon they owned had different types of food stuck to them, and there were half-opened, half-used ingredients all around. The milk didn’t even have a lid on it.

“Good morning!” Stretch was cheerful and energetic, bouncing over to give him a hug. He was wearing a chef’s hat and that stupid  ‘Grill Sergeant’ apron. Edge would have appreciated that gift more if Stretch hadn’t also crammed every other food related pun he could find on the rest of the fabric. On both sides. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?”

“Good morning. Too well.” Edge sighed, trying to force the irritation down by closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of Stretch’s arms around him. “Wake me up when you wake up, Papí.”

“If you’re tired, you should sleep. You obviously need it.” Stretch sighed, discreetly trying to  feel his forehead. With his oven mitts on. Mamerto. “The weekend is the one time you can do it guilt free, so gotta take advantage, no?”

“No.” Edge leaned up on his tiptoes to give his husband a quick kiss, taking the oven mitts off in the process. With growing trepidation, he looked over at the bubbling pot on the stove, “What are you cooking? It smells...” It wasn’t necessarily appetizing, but it wasn’t bad either. “Oil? Is that oil?”

“Yup! Your nose knows!” Stretch gestured to the stove by sweeping his hand, and Edge pulled his husband’s arm back by the sleeve before he could hit the handle. If Stretch noticed, he didn’t comment on it. “I’m making brunch today, and I wanted to give you the best, most underrated combination ever: chicken and waffles!”

It took all of Edge’s willpower not to grimace, “Waffles?” He squirmed away from Stretch to peer into the bubbling pot, “Pancake waffles? Honey and sprinkle waffles?”

“Exactly!” Stretch playfully bumped him to the side with his hip, picking up a plate with raw, breaded chicken. Edge crushed a hand to his mouth to keep from saying anything as some of chicken fell into the pot with a splash, sending oil spilling onto his nice, clean stovetop. “Whoops. I’ll clean it up later, don’t worry.”

Edge already had a paper towel at the ready, trying to push past his husband, “Move. Let me clean that-”

“Nope, I’m good!” Stretch gestured to the table just through the doorway, which was positively covered in food. “Go ahead, take a seat and dig in!” He put his hands on the small of Edge’s back, gently pushing him forward.

“What-?!” Edge started to protest, but reluctantly let himself be exiled from his kitchen. There were a variety of foods he recognized on the table: cornbread, pancakes, grits (ugh,) bacon and scrambled eggs (ughhh.) And a few things he didn’t recognize- Wait. Edge picked up a misshapen green lump with melted cheese starting to ooze out the side. Cautiously, he broke off a piece to nibble on. It was too salty, but the taste was unmistakable.

“Are these Greempanadas?” He called over his shoulder, picking up the light brown glass in front of his plate. On closer inspection, it was oatmeal that was starting to coagulate. “And Coolada?”

“Well! They’re supposed to be- I did my very best, called Red and everything!” Stretch yelled over the sound of frying chicken, and the repetitive ding of the oven. It was a struggle for Edge not to go rushing in there to deal with it himself. “I mean, I looked around but you don’t have any of your Underfell recipes written down anywhere!”

“Why would you do that?” Edge asked the easy question instead, rolling the glass around in his hand. The oatmeal remained stuck in place. Stretch probably just used that instant oatmeal packet. Menso. “You could have just asked me. I would have been happy to make them for you-“

“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise! And I wanted to try and make them for you!” Stretch finally turned the stove off, apparently done with the frying, and Edge let out a relieved breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Like how you learned to make grits for me, even though you don’t even like them!”

Ah. This was a guilt thing, then. Why? What had Stretch done that he needed to be forgiven? He wasn’t still going on about the other day, was he? Edge didn’t like surprises, especially the kind of surprises without a clear motive. Well, Stretch was a terrible liar, and his conscience would have him breaking soon. Edge could be patient.

“And Red told you to use this much salt?” Edge tried to nibble off a little more, but it was so salty. What had his brother been thinking?

The oven dinged one more time. “Sort of!” Stretch continued ranting from the kitchen, oblivious. “Your brother is super unhelpful! He was like, ‘Put as much salt as you want, but not too much!’ and ‘Just a little bit of sugar and a dash of pepper!’ And then he got all mad at me when I asked for clarification, all ‘You got a tongue, don’t’cha?!’ Ugh!”

Edge crushed a piece of the Greempanada on his plate, sprinkling the chunks around like crumbs. He wrapped four of them in a paper napkin, tucking them into his inventory for later disposal. “Yes, Red is the absolute worst.”

“Yes! Well, I mean-“ Stretch cleared his throat uncomfortably, backtracking immediately, “Maybe it’s very obvious for Fell monsters, but for Stretch monsters, it’s like he’s speaking to me in Flowey. Like, really angry, aggressive Flowey.”

Edge smiled despite himself, shaking his head fondly. Stretch made another sound of annoyance, “So, yeah, I tried. There were some other things he was telling me but I didn’t know what those were, so I substituted some stuff.”

Ah. That would explain the paprika. A moment later, Stretch came out with two plates exactly as advertised: fried chicken on a waffle covered in... something. He started to hand a plate over, before hesitating to fidget a little self-consciously, “I know I’m not as great a cook as you are, but... I hope you like it anyway.“

He put the plates down on the table with a sigh, smile anxious and strained, “This was one of my favorite things as a kid, so I wanted you to try it, ‘cause you’re always giving me all of this delicious things from Underfell-“ Stretch started worrying at his ring, “And I appreciate it, you know? I love your cooking and I love you, and I want you to feel as happy as I do when you share this kind of stuff with me, so I wanted to return the favor in a small way-“

Using the side of his fork, Edge cut off a piece of both chicken and waffle, swirling them in the sticky, brown sauce. Bracing himself, he carefully took a bite. The taste was... indescribable. He wouldn’t call it delicious- the sauce was too sweet for the chicken but too salty for the waffle- but he could feel the care that went into it. The love put into the dish went straight to his soul like a hug, and Edge could honestly look up and say, “It’s good.”

“Is it?!” Stretch was in his lap in a moment, arms tight around his chest as he knocked their skulls together, “Blue makes them with bourbon-maple glaze, but that has alcohol, and I didn’t wanna risk it. Yeah, yeah, cooking it makes the alcohol disappear but I’m not gonna take any chances with Pancake!”

Stretch was incredibly talkative today. Not enough to worry, not yet, but enough to definitely monitor. “Like, I want my kid to have this sometime too, but I figured it’d be better when they were born! Yeah, they can get some from symbiosis right now, maybe, but it’s not the same-“ Edge cut off another piece of the chicken and waffle, popping it into his husband’s mouth mid-explanation.

“Yes.” He agreed amicably, keeping his arm around his husband’s waist to keep him from fleeing. He put another piece of food against Stretch’s mouth before he finished swallowing the first, “I’m sure they’ll like it.”

Especially if it was one of the first things they tried, before they developed a firm sense of taste and could speak out against it. And Edge would have plenty of time to undo the damage before Pancake could develop their other father’s sweet tooth.

[ Incident 1 ] [ Incident 2 - Here! ] [ Incident 3]

[tasharii]

Just Listen

A/N: I actually finished it. Didn’t think I would for a minute there. Got lost in a horrible editing loop. This is for @writingcroissant ‘s 2k challenge. I picked some dialogue from the Angsty/Dramatic Prompts. First time writing Tony Stark, hope I did him justice. The smut starts directly below the break. Please let me know what you guys think <3

Pairing: Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: fluff, some angst, a touch of smut

Word Count: 4.5K

Masterlist

Tony pressed you firmly down into the soft mattress. His hips moved urgently against yours, his left hand squeezed your upper thigh, keeping it raised and over his shoulder. Your fingers were interlaced with his own above your head. His lips brushed against yours. No longer meeting in any semblance of a kiss. Just touching and sharing the same breath. Your skin was slick with sweat, equally his and yours. Everything was hot, and you were desperate for him. Desperate for release as he drove you higher and higher.

One more well aimed thrust had you gasping out his name like a prayer. Like a mantra. You surged up and kissed him with a whine, the nails of your free hand scraped down his back hard. His hips stuttered, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, shouting your name in return. Calling out a slew of praises as he dropped open mouth kisses against your shoulder and chest. Each kiss made sparks of pleasure dart across your skin.

Then you both stilled. There was a quiet moment where you clutched onto each other. Both in your own high. Every breath he took brushed your neck and your own breathing started to sync with his. Your fingers carded through his hair and his thumb stroked your hand where he still tightly held it. The room was quiet except for the central air that whispered across your flushed skin from the vent near the bed. It was drifting towards mid-morning and you needed to get around soon for training. Steve would bust a blood vessel if you skipped out again, but you didn’t want to leave the safety of this room.

After another blissful moment, you moved first, shifting your leg off his shoulder and letting your feet finally touch the mattress. Jumbled blankets covered your toes and you groaned at the sensation of stretching your legs. They were above your head for far too long, but it was worth it. Your free hand brushed down across his back, feeling the curve of Tony’s muscles. Then you tangled your fingers back in his wrecked hair and kissed the crown of his head. He hummed in pleasure and it tickled your shoulder.

There was a long pause before Tony rolled off you with a groan. He sat up and discarded the condom into the trashcan. Then stretched, spine popping. Absently, you admired the way his body glowed in the golden morning light coming from the floor length windows. Tony scratched at his head and stood in all his naked glory. Peeking back over at you, he winked and strolled across the room. His bedroom. Where you had spent the night.

Reluctantly, you sat up and watched as he stopped for a second to pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs. Then went over to the minifridge he kept by the makeshift bar, like in a damn hotel room. Tony pulled your favorite sugary drink from the minifridge. He kept them stocked up now, you were there so often. Then he lingered by the bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. Before finally coming back to the bed.

He always did that. Immediately got up and left the bed for a minute. Used to, it was for a lot longer. Used to, he would get dressed and start checking on something with Friday. The news, or texts, or stats for a project. He didn’t really care if you stayed or not.

Used to, you would inevitably end up leaving. If he started to ignore you, you would head out. That wasn’t something you would put up with.

Things were different now.

Tony plopped back beside you on the bed and handed you your drink. Put in a glass with ice and everything. Grateful, you took a drink and smiled. The cold felt great when you swallowed, and the sugar woke you up. Obviously, you would still need some hot caffeine later, but this was perfect for now.

The blankets fell back off the bed when Tony kicked them out of the way. He adjusted a pillow against the headboard and lounged back against it. Quietly, he nursed his glass of scotch on the rocks. You hated the burning flavor of scotch until you started to identify it with the taste of Tony's mouth. Now it wasn’t so bad.

You took a few drinks from your glass before stretching across him to place it on the bedside table. Then you scooted down, so you could curl up against his chest. One of your legs over his. Hand on his toned stomach and cheek above the glowing arc reactor. Your finger traced the circle, and down his chest, just feeling him. His free hand cupped your shoulder, rubbing down your bare back.

There was something comforting about him holding you like this. 

A familiar feeling started whispering up from your heart. It crawled into your throat and pressed relentlessly at your tongue. You shoved it down and away for probably the hundredth time. You couldn't feel that way. It wouldn’t work. Ever.

Tony's hand came up to your hair and started to stroke his fingers through it. Untangling it. Wherever he touched you, made your skin shiver in delight. He stroked your side and hip, then back up to your hair. You hummed in appreciation when he repeated the process. His hands were rough. Testaments to all the hard work he did. 

Sometimes, they even still had oil stains on them. Especially if he just came to you from the shop. When that happened, he would smear those stains across your skin and leave a map of every place he had been on your body. You wanted those stains to stay forever so you wouldn’t forget. Wanted him to stay even longer.

"You're thinking loudly." Tony stated dryly, sitting his empty glass beside yours, "It’s giving me a headache." He arched his eyebrows, staring down at you smugly.

You slapped his bare stomach, making him squawk. He pinched your side in return and you scrambled up to straddle him. To hopefully get the upper hand. It didn’t matter that you weren’t wearing a shred of clothing. Tony was the only one here to witness your body. And you knew he appreciated every inch of it.

Tony brought up his hands as if to push you off, but you caught his wrists. Then trapped them over his head against the headboard. He could break free if he wanted. Despite all your training with Nat, you were only human. Tony was still stronger than you. But he didn’t. He relinquished himself beneath you and you glared as menacingly as you could, "Its rude to make fun of me." You declared, chiding him.

Tony smirked and gasped, "Oh? I had no idea you were so sensitive. Pardon me. I was just trying to ask what such a beautiful woman like you had to think so hard about." Sarcasm dripped from every word and his eyes trailed down your exposed curves. It felt like a burning, physical caress.

Ignoring the blush that heated up your chest, you scoffed and drifted closer, "Flattery will get you nowhere." Your grip on his hands loosened, and you shifted on his lap. Pretending not to notice, you rolled your hips down against the thin layer of cloth separating him from you. Amused at how his mouth popped open, you kept your expression carefully neutral. Like you had no idea why he was glaring at you now. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and took a settling breath. Then he peered up at you again, mischievously chuckling.

Tony leaned up towards you and flexed his wrists. His muscles strained to lift him forward despite his arms staying back. Of course, he smirked like the ass he was, "I've found flattery can get me everywhere." His brown eyes flickered down suggestively, and you released his wrists immediately.

Sitting back, you waved your hands up in an exaggerated shrug, exasperated, "God! Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth?" Despite being annoyed, you found yourself smiling fondly. Tony’s quirks were part of the reason you were drawn to him.

Instantly, he took advantage and flipped you over so that he could pin you down in return. His hands held your wrists against the sheets on either side of your head. One of his knees pressed between your thighs. Part of his weight was positioned on top of you, bare chest against your own. In an all too familiar position. He chuckled and pecked your lips, "Actually, sometimes I have Friday record what comes out of my mouth, so I can reference my genius later." He snickered, irritatingly self-righteous.

"You're such an egotistical ass." You grumbled, fighting off the smile trying to pull at the corners of your mouth. Stubborn, you bit your bottom lip and scowled.

"You love it." Tony argued, releasing your wrists. He readjusted so he could balance on weight on one arm. Then sweetly brushed your hair out of your eyes and ran his hand down your side, across your hip. There was so much fond affection in his eyes that you felt your heart swell. So full it might burst.

Softly, with so much affection, you confessed, "I love you." And there it was. The words you had been denying yourself. Forcing back. The words you never wanted to truly say. All color drained from your face and your mouth opened and closed. You wanted to take it back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word.

"Woah." Tony froze, eyebrows knitting together. He swallowed, and you could see the thousands of thoughts racing through his head. They flashed across his eyes in fragmented thoughts and sparks. A wide range of expressions flitted across his face. Too fast for you to process.

You wanted to cry.

Instead, you backtracked the moment you remembered how to talk, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I mean. I did. But I didn't want to... I don’t want to." Your hands came up to his cheek, but then you stopped yourself. Hands lingering in the air for a second before you closed them into fists and held them tight to your chest. Above your racing heart.

He slowly sat up, still mute. Got off you and crossed his legs, staring at you. You got up too, panic making your fingers cold. Feeling vulnerable and small, you tugged up part of the tangled blankets and covered yourself. Hugged the plush comforter tightly against your chest.

Tony was still just watching you. Hadn’t even blinked. Uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, elbows on knees. His thumb brushed over his mouth and he bit it, deep in thought.

Too many words fought to leave your mouth. So, a small whine escaped, and you bit your bottom lip to repress it, "I'm sorry." Why did you just keep apologizing? The bed felt too soft now and you hoped you could just sink into it. Let the world swallow you up.

"Why?" Tony finally asked, a crease between his brows, frowning. His voice was quiet and confused, like he was still trying to catch up. As if you overloaded him.

"Wh-Why?" You blinked back embarrassed tears and made them flow inside instead. Ignored the burning in your eyes and the copper taste of panic in the back of your throat. Shaking your head, a hysterical bubble of laughter burst from you. It was hard to breathe.

"Why are you sorry?" He elaborated, even though you knew what he had meant. Just didn’t understand why he was asking in the first place. Tony waved his hands at you, still unwaveringly studying every minute move you made.

You squeezed the fistfuls of the blanket, tugging at it. The fibers strained against your fingers. It took everything you had not to run away like a damn damsel, "Because... this wasn’t supposed to happen." You roughly pointed between the two of you and glared, "Just sex. Just let off some stress. No feelings or attachments. I just—" You huffed, voice embarrassingly emotional and looked away from him for a second. Maybe you could breathe again, "I can’t do this anymore. At least you know why." Your rubbed at your damp eyes and scooted over to the edge of the bed. Just needed to get dressed and leave. Leave with whatever dignity you might have left.

"Wait wait wait wait wait." Tony muttered quickly, shaking his head, "You can't just leave on that." He caught your wrist and you groaned in frustration. He kept you from yanking away and whispered your name gently. It hurt to hear him say it. Ripped at the seams of your heart.

"There isn’t anything left to say." You exclaimed, still trying to get away. You pressed the hand he was holding against the bed, shuffling just a bit further away. You wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. If you did, you would end up begging him to say it back.

"Yes there is." Tony stressed, crawling closer to you. He touched your shoulder with his free hand and stroked your arm. He wrapped his arms around your waist over your blanket and pulled you back against his chest. The hug was so tender and sweet. Like he was afraid you might break. In that moment, you thought you might.

"What do you expect me to say?! I’ve screwed my heart up enough over you-" You shouted, drifting towards distraught. Tremors made your shoulders shake and he hugged you tighter.

"Y/N—" He started, lips against your shoulder but you cut him off.

"I can’t do this friends-with-benefits thing anymore." You stared down at his hands. They were clenched against the grey blanket. Tears finally pooled over your eyes and dripped onto his skin. Surprised, his hold on you loosened and you yanked away from him. Managed to clamber off the bed and stood up with the blankets trailing after you like a robe.

"Y/N!" Frustrated, Tony shouted your name and it echoed through the room. You stumbled a few steps away, trying to find your scattered clothes. The sound of him bellowing your name made you bristle.

"What?!" You half turned and cried back at him, waving your hand at him, “What could you possibly—”

"Can you just shut up for a minute!" Tony yelled, and your mouth snapped shut. You glared at him but stayed quiet and Tony huffed, "Finally. Fucking Christ." He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked at you again for another long minute. Hand over his mouth.

Enough time passed that you opened your mouth to say something again. Then he pointedly jabbed a finger at you. So, you stayed silent. Just stood there wrapped in a comforter. Arms crossed and tears drying on your skin. In the quiet, your heart settled, and you sniffled. The water works dried up and you were left with just an insistent, hollow ache behind your ribs.

Eventually he nodded, as if deciding something, and shrugged, clapping his hands together, "Alright. That settles it then." The sudden words made you flinch, and you blinked, confused.

He stood up from the bed and you watched him incredulously, barely containing shouting at him again. Tony strolled across the room, relaxed and even smiling just a bit, "Friday." He called, carding his fingers through his hair. Irritatingly composed, he paused in front of his full-length closet mirror and played with his hair. Styling it with practiced ease.

"Yes Mr. Stark?" The AI’s question startled you. You turned, and took a couple more steps from the bed, and picked up your underwear from near the bar. Face twisted in disbelief, you kept quietly watching Tony work.

"Cancel all my afternoon meetings." Tony opened his closet and started sorting through his clothes, tugging out a pair of jeans. He got one leg in and hopped a couple times before he managed to shove in the other and button them up.

"Certainly sir. Shall I inform Roger's that you won’t be attending training this afternoon?" He paused, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Then he shrugged and moved over to his dresser, opening one of the top drawers.

"Ya and let him know Y/N won’t be there either." The casual way your name slipped off his tongue made you frown even more. What did you have to do with anything?

"Of course."

"What the fuck-" You protested only Tony held up his hand again and cut you off. His back was still to you and you thought about throwing something at his head. He pulled on a t-shirt and strolled over to the other side of the bed, opposite of where you hovered. Not even looking at you, he picked his phone up off the nightstand. Then he typed away at it.

You dropped the blanket to the floor and kicked it for good measure. Slowly growing livid. Clenching your jaw, you snatched your bra off the minibar counter. Only glowered over at him again when he started talking.

"Make a reservation at that one restaurant on 8th street. Ya know. The one with the garden." He waved his hand as he spoke, words hurried and demanding. Tony adjusted his shirt so that the arc reactor was situated properly.

"On it."

"Tony..." You growled, voice low as you clasped your bra back. He finally looked at you. Eyes wide. In fact, he went a little pale and swallowed nervously. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

He tucked his phone in his back pocket, eyes flickering over your angry expression, "And um... send up some flowers and candy. The kind I've got saved under I've Fucked Up Again."

"Certainly sir."

You snatched your white button up shirt off the floor at the foot of the bed and roughly tugged it over your head. Then you gave him a very dirty look before stalking towards the door, on a mission to find your pants. The carpet was soft against your bare feet and goosebumps trailed down your thighs from the cool draft.

Tony was saying something, but your ears were ringing. Your ears were ringing, head pounding, and stomach twisting. All of it steamed from Tony Stark. Fuck your pants were in the living room. Of course. You made it to the door. Opened it a crack, but then it got slammed shut again. The resounding CLICK that the action caused was so close to your nose that you flinched, cursing in surprise. Tony pinned you against it from behind, hand shoving the door close next to your head

"Where are you going?" He asked, so casually it made you angrier. There was even a playful smile in his words. Your blood boiled.

"Away from your very irritating face. Now get off." You snapped back, glaring at him over your shoulder. You tried to turn the knob for the door again, but his bulk kept you from being able to step back far enough to pull it open.

He kept you restrained with his torso and legs, running his hands down your arms. The soft sleeves of your shirt bunched under his palms. Trying, but failing, to soothe you. The material of his shirt and jeans scratched at your mostly bare skin. He cupped your hand over the door handle, stroking your fingers, "And why would you want to do that?" His breath brushed against your ear. The deep lull of his voice made your heart skip.

"Because you're a pompous asshole and maybe if I get through the door your egotistical head will be too big to follow me." Your tone was biting and cold. Bucking back against him, you tried to wiggle away. Even with your hands pushing against the door to shove him back, he didn’t budge.

Tony snorted at that and laid his forehead against the top of your head, "Good one.” Between your jerking and his movements, your shirt hiked up your back.

"Thanks, now get the fuck off."

He hesitated for a second before stepping away only to grab your hand and whip you around. He pinned your wrists over your head. Probably for the 5th time that day. If you weren't so angry, it might have turned you on. Tony was taller than you, blocking out the overhead light. Intimidating, cocky, and so smart. A deadly combination. Now, though, he was smiling at you. Sweeter than he normally showed anyone. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies.

It didn’t change that he was mean five seconds ago, though. Him fighting to keep you there didn’t change that you still didn’t understand why or that he had told you to shut up. Then ignored you to rearrange his schedule. You shrieked in frustration, "Tony! I will kick you in the dick. Don’t test me!" You lifted your foot threateningly.

Grimacing at the threat, he bravely stepped closer and parted your legs with his knee. The position made your threat harder to follow through with, but it also brought him distractingly closer. His jeans scratched at your bare inner thighs, "Will you just listen for a second.” Tony insisted and your glare softened just a fraction, “If you leave now. You'll miss dinner." He stated matter-of-factly. Tony always knew the affect he had on you and god was it getting harder to kindle your rage. The statement made you pause. It wasn’t anywhere near time for dinner.

You stilled and frowned suspiciously, "What dinner?" With his body so close, you felt warm again. Like you were covered in a blanket. His cologne curled tauntingly around you. Familiar and comforting. He tilted his head and frowned, the teasing turn of his lips dropped.

Tony rolled his eyes, exasperated, "Our date. The one I just made reservations for. Were you thinking too loudly to hear me again?" His eyes searched yours imploringly, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist.

Confused, you relaxed back against the door, "Why did you do that?" Your voice dropped to an almost whisper. A glimmer of hope made your heart squeeze up into your throat. Your toes curled against the carpet, relaxing made his knee press more firmly between your legs in the best, yet worst, sort of way.

Tony released your wrists and cupped your face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones, "I know were doing this backwards. But I still want to do it right." He was so close and genuine that you wanted to kiss him again. His words were more vulnerable than you had ever heard him sound in the daytime. He only opened up like this in the odd hours of the night, when the darkness made him feel braver.

All the dots connected in your head in an instant. Your heartbeat sped up and all of your residual irritation swept away. A slow impish grin grew across your lips. Then you brought your hands up to hold his against your cheeks, nuzzling into his touch, "Do what exactly?"

Tony glared, unamused at you feigning ignorance, "You know what." His hands slid down to your neck, then shoulders. He focused on fixing the collar of your shirt, pursing his lips to keep from smiling himself. Ignoring your imploring stare. Relief made his body relax even further against yours, slotting himself with you like he was made to be there. Never further than an inch apart.

The wood of the door was cold against your back. You reached behind him and tucked your hands in his back pockets. Tugging his hips firmly against yours by his ass and squeezed. He softly moaned.

"I’m listening." You sang with a smirk, you bit your lip to try and contain it. Tony dropped his head down and you angled your away when he tried to kiss you. His lips brushed over your jaw and he bit lightly.

Groaning in annoyance, Tony gave you a dirty look, scandalized, "You're the worst." He pouted, gripping your hips firmly. His thumbs circled the hem of your underwear, teasingly dipping just beneath it.

"Use your words." You giggled. It was easier for you to ignore his advances than it was for him to withstand yours. Heat coiled in your core, but you disregarded it for now. In favor of getting what you wanted. Standing up on your toes, you tilted your head, as if to kiss him. His breath brushed your lips, stooping to close the space, only for you to duck away. A second time.

Tony sulked like a child. Eyebrows together and lip poked out. You raised your eyebrows innocently. Then he let go of your hips. Slowly, he propped his elbows above your head and supported his forehead against his forearms. Staring down at you with a 'are you serious?' expression.

You stared back, smug this time. Deadly serious. Crossing your arms, you noticed his eyes dart to your chest, you snickered.

A minute passed before he conceded, taking in a deep breath to clear his thoughts. He rolled his eyes one more time, acting so put out, then slowly stated, "You, Y/N Y/L/W, and I are going to try this relationship thing. Ya know. Going steady or whatever people call it now." Tony explained slowly, annunciating every word properly. With him leaning over you like that, you had to tilt your head up to watch him. It was like he physically took up your world right then. Wrapped you up in a safe cocoon where he could protect you.

You snorted at his exaggerated way of spelling it out for you. Your hands curled around the waistband of his jeans and you ran a finger over the button, another across his boxers underneath. He stared at you suspiciously and you prodded, "And why all of the sudden, are you changing our relationship status exactly?" Your tone was overly inquisitive and proper, while your hands made it difficult for him to think straight.

Still, his face softened in fondness, "Because I love you too." Tony replied with so much conviction that any further teasing you wanted to do died in your throat. You definitely heard that loud and clear. Now you just wanted to show him how much you loved him in return.

"Oh." You whispered, hands stilling and then you ran them up his chest to wrap around his neck. Brought him down closer to you.

Tony nodded and clicked his tongue, "I know right? Scary. You're gonna be stuck with my egotistical ass." He ducked his head so that he could finally brush his lips against yours while you were distracted. This time you didn’t pull away and he confided, "It’s a tragedy." He drifted back only a thread apart and you felt his words form against your mouth, "I feel sorry for you."

You smiled and kissed him again, slowly. A hint of scotch coated his mouth. Your fingers curled in his hair and you affectionately moved your lips against his before pulling back to take a breath, "I feel sorry for both of us." You whispered back, and Tony kissed your cheek, nuzzling against you.

"Why?” His hands dropped down and he felt down your body, going back under your shirt and fiddling with the clasp of your bra. You could practically feel him debating on releasing it again.

"Cause we've turned into these disgustingly mushy lovebirds. Its gross." You whined, as if it was the worst thing in the world. He laughed, and the sound vibrated sweetly down into your toes. Straight to your heart.

"Oh God how could you do this to me?" Tony lamented, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He hugged you, almost clung to you. In a way that let you know he didn’t want you to go anywhere. Didn’t care about anything other than making you happy right now. With him.

You turned your head and kissed his ear, confessing, "I love you." It felt so good to say it with confidence. To be able to say it and not be afraid of repercussions.

Tony stood up straight, wrapping his arms around your waist. He gave you another one of his rare, genuine smiles that made him glow, "I love you too."

He kissed you deeply then, scruff brushing against your cheeks. Tony’s tongue slipped into your mouth and his hands gripped under your ass. Then he lifted your legs around his waist. You held tight around his neck, keeping his lips against yours. Firmly, he slammed you firmly against the door. You groaned and could already feel his need through his jeans.

The date would have to wait.

[quicksilversquared]

There’s No Camembert in Tibet: ch 5

A sequel to Plagg and the Butterfly Costume

With Hawkmoth defeated and school out for the summer, it’s time for Ladybug and Chat Noir plus their newly-assembled team of superheroes to head to Tibet to try to rescue Mrs. Agreste. Hiking, magic, and adventures await them, and hopefully at the end, they’ll be returning to Paris with Mrs. Agreste in tow. 

(links in the reblog until Tumblr gets its head on straight again)

Adrien was having a lot of fun as they hiked along. Day Three of hiking was going well- now that they were properly clear of the established backcountry hiking trails, they could relax a bit more. The kwamis didn't have to be on watch all the time, which meant that they could chat with each other and their Chosens or fly off to forage for food in the forests and meadows they passed through. Chloe had been in surprisingly good spirits as well, largely because she was barely spending any time at all hiking, and it meant that the atmosphere of the whole group was more relaxed.

"I would have thought that you would have brought music to play while we're hiking," Adrien commented to Nino as they scrambled up a rocky slope. He paused to turn around and give Marinette a hand up. "To boost the mood or whatever."

Nino snorted, though Adrien didn't quite understand why. "To boost our energy, you mean? I thought about it, but there would be no way to recharge. Master Fu's solar charger only produces enough energy to charge his GPS. I'd get to use it for, like, one day, and then it would just be extra stuff. And that equipment is expensive, man. It would be too easy to lose something out here." His foot slipped on a rock and he swore as he caught himself. "Or it would get broken while we're hiking. Like, it's gonna be tough not having my beats and all, but I'll survive."

"Yeah, I guess that's smart. " Adrien clambered over another pile of broken stones and glanced upwards, to where Chloe- or, rather, Queen Bee- sat perched at the top of the pass, waiting for them all to join her. Ahead of them but not quite so far up, Jade Turtle and Mrs. Cheng floated serenely forwards, gliding over the broken rocks. Their path wasn't entirely straight- Jade Turtle was steering them around the larger boulders so that he didn't have to do quite so much maneuvering up and down- but that didn't seem to be slowing him down at all.

Not that he was speeding at all or anything. Adrien was pretty sure that the Turtle could go faster than that, but there wasn't much point in zipping along when the four of them had decided to just clamber over the rocks instead of hitching a ride in the shell.

"I think we lost the girls," Nino said suddenly, pulling Adrien out of his thoughts. He was glancing back at the rock rubble below them. "I swear, they were just behind us-"

Adrien whipped around, frowning. Before he could get too concerned, though, a streak of red zipped overhead, followed by a bouncing blob of orange. The two zipped ahead, passing over then and Jade Turtle and Sabine, landing at the top. There was a dual flash of light, and then their girlfriends were giggling next to an unamused Queen Bee.

There was a pause.

"Okay, yeah, that's actually not a bad idea," Nino said, stopping completely. "Why did we decide to climb this thing like normal people again?"

Adrien shrugged. "For the experience?"

"Yeah, yeah. We came, we climbed, we experienced." Nino shrugged off his pack and peered inside. "Hey, Duusu, can you transform me for a minute? Two, tops."

Duusu popped his head out, looking sleepy. "I thought you were walking?"

"I was. But I don't wanna be sore tomorrow. I've had enough rock scrambling for one day." Nino tapped the brooch pinned to his t-shirt. "So, transform me?"

Adrien sighed and pulled his own backpack off, shaking it lightly to wake Plagg up as Nino transformed in a flash of blue light and set off up the slope with a whoop and a small avalanche of dislodged pebbles and fist-sized stones. Adrien dodged to the side before anything could hit him, then shook the bag again. "C'mon, Plagg. I need you for a minute."

Plagg groaned and popped out of her bag. "Do I gotta?"

Seconds later, Chat Noir poled his way up the uneven slope, somersaulting to the ground next to Marinette moments before Paon reached the waiting group. He grinned at his friend, doing a little dance in victory.

"You aren't half as cool as you think you are," Paon told him seriously, detransforming in a flash of light. "Marinette, tell this loser that he isn't cool."

Detransforming, Adrien turned to Marinette with a pout. "Marinette, tell Nino that I am so cool."

Marinette just giggled.

"Okay, kids, now everyone into the shell," Jade Turtle called out as he and Mrs. Cheng reached them. "We're getting pretty high up, and I don't want to risk anyone overexerting themselves and getting sick this early on."

Queen Bee pouted. "Me too? I don't want to cram in with everyone!"

Jade Turtle sighed. "I guess you can stay out. We'll stay together through this pass, and then you can fly ahead again." He shifted, adjusting his seat as his shell expanded and they started piling in. Adrien gave Marinette a foot up, then followed. The inside of the shell wasn't particularly comfortable to sit in, not with all of them crammed in, but it wasn't bad or anything. "Everyone, be sure to hold on. It can get gusty out here, and I don't want anyone being blown out."

Adrien took the opportunity to cuddle up with Marinette. It was a bit chilly this high up, and while he had packed a sweatshirt and a sweater, they were buried in his big bag, inaccessible unless he wanted to ask Jade Turtle to pause so that he could dig for a sweater that he would probably only use for half an hour before they got low enough again that it would be too warm.

"Nino, Alya, can you two keep an eye on our bags?" Mrs. Cheng asked, turning around to address them as Jade Turtle guided the shell through the pass after Queen Bee. "You're closest, after all. I just don't want to lose anything and have to backtrack, even if we are a little ahead of schedule."

Adrien perked up at that little tidbit. He knew that Chloe's scouting had helped some- sometimes, she could see the next landmark by air and they could shortcut ahead, speeding along in Jade Turtle's shell instead of having to try to follow an old, very overgrown trail through the woods- but he hadn't known that they had managed to make up for that slow first day and then some, too.

After all, Chloe's scouting didn't always work. Sometimes their landmarks were too small and not visible from the air. Sometimes it was just hard to recognize them from an angle. Once, Chloe had gone in the wrong direction entirely. Sometimes she was tired from the flying. Once, she had to come back because a helicopter was flying over too close and too often, and they didn't want to be spotted.

At any rate, Chloe's scouting had only actually succeeded three or so times, and only let them skip ahead a little bit each time. Master Fu had promised that it would probably work more when they were going through fields and mountains instead of forests when it looked like Chloe was going to have one of her famous meltdowns.

The wind picked up as they moved forward. Adrien had to spit a strand of Marinette's hair out of his mouth when one strong gust blew half of her pigtail into his mouth. The shell wobbled slightly, and they all grabbed on for dear life.

"Oops, wasn't expecting that!" Jade Turtle laughed. "I'll focus on keeping it steady so we don't all topple out."

By the time they finished flying through the pass, Adrien's leg was starting to cramp up and his cheeks were frozen. They all let out a cheer as the narrow path opened up to sky and fields.

Those cheers cut off as they realized that this side of the mountain seemed to be a near-sheer drop-off.

Queen Bee darted ahead, flying above the drop-off and then spinning back to regard it. After a moment, her expression brightened. "There's a path! It's really narrow and dangerous, but it winds along over here, see?"

Master Fu edged the shell forward and they all leaned forward to look. Sure enough, a narrow path- if it could even be described as a path- clung to the face of the cliff. Some sections had crumbled away to almost nothing while others were partially obstructed by small rock falls. It would be all too easy to trip or miss a step and go plummeting straight down.

Adrien thought about his parents- untransformed and unprotected- taking this exact path (several times, since they hadn't made it to the temple in a single trip). He felt a bit queasy.

They could have fallen all too easily and no one would have ever found out. Not for a long time, anyway.

"We will not be hiking down," Master Fu announced, to their great relief. "I can see where the trail leads, and where our next landmark is. We will go straight there. Everyone, please hold on. The Turtle shell cannot fly above open air at a level altitude for long, so there may be some sharp drops- only short ones, I promise!- at times."

Adrien's grip on both the shell and on Marinette's hand tightened. He was starting to think that it would be a good idea to transform, just in case.

After all, that was a long drop.

"The landscaping here looks like there was some sort of rockslide," Jade Turtle told them as he guided the turtle shell off of the edge like it was a completely normal thing to do. They started drifting downwards. "The whole side of the mountain cracked and slid down to the bottom, probably several times to get such a steep slope."

"Great," Nino said, voice sounding a little squeakier than normal. "Fascinating. Uh, how long until we reach the ground again?"

"Oh, not long." Jade Turtle guided the shell forward and they started descending faster. "We're aiming for that perfectly round rock down there. We should arrive there in maybe five minutes. Had we hiked down the trail, that would take most of the day."

"That's good that we could just shortcut like this," Marinette said. She squeezed Adrien's hand before he could glance over the side of the shell again and start worrying anew about how high off the ground they were. "That'll take another day off of the journey. We're getting closer faster than we thought."

Adrien nodded. There was a spike of excitement, followed by a spike of anxiety, deep in his gut.

He wanted to get to the temple and get his mother back. But what if it didn't work? Or what if she had somehow turned as dark as his father, without him ever knowing? Sure, he had a family in Marinette and her parents and Nino and Alya, but...

It just wasn't the same.

The turtle shell soared on, dropping noticeably in altitude. Jade Turtle seemed to have pretty good control over it, so there were no sudden drops like he had warned them about.

Still, Adrien found himself working his jaw frequently to clear out his ears and keep them from popping. They were going down fast enough that it would have been really uncomfortable otherwise.

By the time they got down to the ground, Marinette and Alya had both relaxed and were looking around. Alya had taken out her camera and was snapping photos- she had already filled half of a memory card, and that was only as of that morning- and had even recorded a short video of how far the ground was below them and where they had come from.

"Ooh, my legs are dead," Adrien groaned as he half-climbed, half-rolled out of the shell. He staggered a few steps as blood rushed back into his legs. "I don't know if I'll be able to walk right away. Can we have lunch early?"

"You'd be able to eat after that?" Nino asked dubiously. "I think I'll need a minute. Or twenty."

Jade Turtle laughed. "We'll likely be doing a number of crossings like this. Not all of them will have such steep slopes, of course, but drop-offs in terrain like this are...not uncommon, I'm afraid."

Nino groaned louder.

Queen Bee touched down easily, smirking at Nino's groans. Instead of commenting (Adrien inwardly cheered. Hey! She was learning!), she turned to Jade Turtle. "Okay, so now we're here. What's the next landmark? I'll go there!"

Jade Turtle chuckled. "Ah, patience, patience." He consulted the journal. "'Down a goat path on the side of a cliff'- just did that-'and boy will it ever be a pain to go back up that'. Well, we'll just fly back up on the way back, so no worries there. 'Head down the trail- it becomes more distinct. Followed that for the rest of the day and then two days more, through rock fields and a few areas of shrubland. Awful at this time of the year.' I don't think there's much of a shortcut here."

Queen Bee pouted.

"The good news is that the path is more distinct than when we were in the forest, so we won't be going a turtle's speed trying to track it." Jade Turtle started down the path, talking as he floated along. "We'll start off slow to let your legs get back on track, and then we'll do an hour of good, solid hiking before we break for lunch. Sound good?"

Queen Bee groaned and dropped back down to the ground. "Do I have to detransform, then?"

"It would be a good idea, yes. Pollen likely would want to rest and recharge. If you want to ride in the shell, you can." Jade Turtle continued down the path and they all followed, Adrien limping a bit as the blood returned to his legs. The pins and needles wore off after a minute, and then Adrien had to jog a bit to catch up with the rest of the group.

They headed over rock fields, scrambling over some of the piles of rock left by the rock slide and between others. Chloe hopped into the shell for the worst bits of the hike, scowling and rubbing her feet through her boots once she was fully situated in the shell.

At least she wasn't complaining. Or if she was, at least they couldn't hear it.

They hiked for the rest of the day, until Adrien's calves were aching and everyone except for him and Marinette had hopped into Jade Turtle's shell. They stopped in front of a gaping opening in a cliff next to the trail.

"We're sleeping in a cave?" Chloe protested when Jade Turtle steered his shell towards it. "That's not safe! What if there's something sleeping in it?"

"Yeah, I don't want a snow leopard hopping into my sleeping bag with me," Nino agreed. "Although wouldn't that be possible anywhere in these mountains?"

Jade Turtle chuckled. "Ah, but this is safe. There were spells placed on this particular cave when the trail was made to keep it safe for camping when ferrying new recruits to the temple. I wouldn't recommend wandering too far out of the cave without your kwamis when using the bathroom at night so you can transform if needed, but it's safe."

Adrien grinned and dashed ahead of the shell into the cave. They hadn't camped in caves before, just under trees and in meadows. The floor was unusually even- he had to wonder if there was some magic involved there, but he didn't know what the extent of the magic that the Guardians could do was- and the ceiling was high enough for him to stand almost all the way back. It wasn't a deep cave, either- there was enough space for them and their tents with a bit of space to spare for their cooking area, but that was it. Some areas were mossy, but it was mostly just exposed rock. A couple short stalactites clung to the ceiling.

Alya was by his side snapping photos almost immediately.

"Once you're done with that, we will start setting up tents and preparing dinner," Jade Turtle called, making them both turn. Marinette and Chloe were hovering at his side, ready to grab the large backpack and haul it off as soon as he detransformed. "After all, we'll want to go to bed soon. We'll have another full day of hiking again tomorrow."

"Coming!" Adrien called, figuring that his tired legs could wait to rest until they were eating. He trotted over, grabbing his backpack from the pile and hauling it over to where Nino had dropped his. "All right, what can I do to help?"

  They woke up to rain.

Sheets and sheets of rain poured from the grey sky, pattering against the rocks and running down the cracks and gorges. There was a new stream running down the path, weaving around the rocks and gurgling along.

"Well, it's a good thing we decided to camp in this cave," Sabine commented. "We're not going to flood in here. But I don't think we'll be hiking today."

"But what will we do, then?" Nino asked. "Just stay in the cave the whole time?"

"We could take advantage of the rain and shower," Alya suggested as she peered out at the pouring water. "We all brought swimsuits, right? And the rain will be a bit colder than a Sun Shower would be, but it wouldn't be awful."

Adrien shivered just thinking about going out and getting soaked on purpose. It wasn't as though it was particularly warm outside to begin with, and then getting wet on purpose? They were in the middle of a mountain range in a part of the country that was already pretty high above sea level, and it was cold. But Alya had a point- they had been working hard with three days of hikes and no showers. They could wash now, so they probably should.

Besides, they had collected some bits of wood that were outside in case they wanted a fire, so they could get that started and dry around that afterwards.

"I'll go change," Adrien volunteered before people could start groaning about Alya's idea. "A shower- well, a wash, at least- sounds great."

"Blech!" Plagg exclaimed, making a face. "Go out in all of that water? No thanks!"

Adrien gave his kwami a Look. "Not you, Plagg. You can stay inside and sleep, just like you do every day."

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Adrien, but we should probably eat breakfast first," Mrs. Cheng said with a laugh. "...but I suppose you could change while we get things heat up. Who all is going to wash up today?"

Adrien raised his hand. Alya wasn't far behind. Marinette ran a hand through her hair, then winced and half-raised a tentative hand.

Chloe looked less than convinced, though her own hand went to her hair as well. "How long do you think it'll be until we can use those Sun Shower things?""

"Potentially a couple days." Master Fu was already heading towards their camp stove set-up. He ignored Chloe's small noise of dismay. "We'll need to get at least a little out of the mountains and we'd need to find a stream. I'd suggest taking this opportunity."

Chloe didn't look convinced. Oddly enough, neither did Nino.

"Come on, dude," Adrien said with a laugh. "Really? Out of all of us, you'll be the one who has to be out there for the shortest time."

"Which means that I could potentially just catch some rain water in a pot to toss over my head on some warmer day instead," Nino suggested hopefully. "That sounds like a plan to me- no?"

"If we have to share a cave all day, you're going to wash just like the rest of us," Chloe told him. "Ugh. This is going to be awful, but I suppose at least this way I don't have a limit to how much water I can use to wash my hair."

"You just have to be able to tolerate the cold for that long," Alya agreed cheerfully. "...I guess we're all changing, then?"

It didn't take long for them to eat a hasty breakfast and then change into their swimsuits so that they could head out and take advantage of the rain before it lightened. As he stood in the front end of the cave, Adrien found himself regretting his decision to wash in the rain.

It was cold. And he could already feel from the rain splashing up on his legs that that was cold, too. He hadn't even stepped out into the rain yet and he was already shivering.

No one else looked any more eager. Except, of course, for Master Fu. He was humming merrily as he rubbed a bar of soap over his grey hair in the middle of the downpour, utterly unperturbed by the cold. Even Mrs. Cheng looked a bit apprehensive.

"Well, we're not going to get any warmer standing here," Alya said after a minute more. "The sooner we wash, the sooner we can get in, change back to normal clothes, and warm up." She pulled her towel off of her shoulders and grabbed her own shampoo and conditioner before heading out. Her slight wince when the rain hit her shoulders was barely visible.

Adrien let out a small yelp of surprise as his girlfriend headed out to join Alya several seconds later. Her flinch at the rain was much more obvious, but then she was turning her face to the sky, letting it soak her fully. Much to Adrien's surprise, Chloe was the next one out. There were several muffled curses as she darted out and immediately started squeezing shampoo into her hand. She had started rubbing it in before her hair was fully wet.

Nino and Adrien stared.

"They literally all have more guts than us," Nino said disbelievingly. He looked over at Adrien. "How are we the last ones to go out?"

Adrien just shook his head and shivered again.

"Do I need to come over there and drag you out, Adrien?" Marinette called over. The suds in her hair were already rinsing off. "It's not that bad!"

"Somehow I get the feeling that you're just saying that to get me out there!" Adrien called back.

"Yeah, tough talk from the girl who flinched when she went out!" Nino added.

Chloe, who was already partway through conditioning her hair while standing under a slight overhang, snorted loudly. "Big talk from the guy who hasn't even come out yet."

Master Fu chuckled as he walked back towards the cave entrance, shower finished. Behind him, Wayzz was still frolicking in the stream of water running down the path. "Go on, now. We don't know how much longer the rain will last. If you wait too long, it might lighten up and then you'll have to deal with soap in your hair."

Grimacing, Adrien dropped his towel and grabbed his soaps. With his shoulders hunched all the way to his ears, he dashed out into the rain and immediately let out a squeak (he would not call it a squeal, he had more pride than that) of surprise.

Oh, it was cold. It was cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold.

Marinette giggled as Adrien frantically ruffled his hair to get it all wet as fast as he could. "It's nice to see you out, kitty-cat."

"Dude, you abandoned me!" Nino hollered. "Not cool!"

Adrien couldn't respond. He was too busy frantically scrubbing shampoo into his hair. All he wanted was to finish his wash and get back in the cave, next to the fire Master Fu was now tending. A few meters over, Chloe was scrubbing through her hair, trying to get all of the conditioner out. She had somehow procured a pot and had it collecting water. As he watched, she grabbed the pot and upended it over her head, dumping the water over her head and washing the rest of the soap out. She shoved her hair out of her eyes, wincing, and then sprinted back to the cave, snatching up her towel as she passed.

Nino joined Adrien a minute later, wincing the whole way. They both finished up in a hurry and then sprinted back in to join the others around the fire.

"I'm glad that I cut my hair before we left," Alya was saying as Adrien crowded in next to Marinette, plucking at his drenched swim trunks in an attempt to get them to stop sticking to his legs. "If my hair had been its normal length, it would be a pain to try to get all of the soap out."

"Yeah, you did take a bit off, didn't you?" Adrien commented. Alya's hair was just barely brushing the tops of her shoulders now, instead of tumbling past. Chloe had also cut her hair, and he knew that Marinette had chopped a few centimeters off at the ends. She had complained endlessly about the haircut making her signature ponytails look funny.

"I brought scissors along in case anyone needs a trim while we're on the trip," Mrs. Cheng told them. She pressed a cup of steaming tea into Adrien's hands. "I'm no stylist, but I promise not to mess things up so badly that a hairdresser couldn't straighten it back out in a single haircut."

Chloe's hands went to her hair, clearly dubious expression on her face. She wasn't going to let anyone near her hair with scissors, Adrien was sure of that.

Once his tea was finished, Adrien headed back to his and Nino's tent to change back into his dry clothes. He emerged after a minute, hanging his swimming trunks up on a line with the other wet swimsuits before re-joining the group around the fire.

"So what are we supposed to do for the rest of the day?" Chloe asked. "I mean, we can't go hiking if it's raining like this or we'll all get sick and die. So..."

"We can play cards," Mrs. Cheng suggested. "I brought a deck. Or perhaps Master Fu and the kwamis could tell us more about past users. That would pass a bit of time."

Duusu perked up. "Ooh! Let me, let me! So, six hundred years ago, I had a holder-"

For the rest of the morning, the kwamis took turns telling them about past holders and their adventures. All except for Plagg, who yawned, waved a lazy paw, and told them that he wasn't going to tell any boring stories. Tikki spluttered and told them about some of Plagg's past holders in his place, though Plagg did occasionally interrupt to interject Tikki's stories with comments about the cheeses at the time. They briefly broke for lunch- and boy was it ever nice to have a warm lunch again- and then worked on re-organizing their food supply properly, making sure that all of the food had been removed from their backpacks and were properly returned to Master Fu's large bag. Plagg spotted some of the cheese that they had been keeping from him and promptly burst into song, "entertaining" them with what seemed to be a musical about the history of cheese and Camembert in particular.

"Oh, hey, here's a bag of rice," Adrien said, tugging at the bag half-hidden in the bottom of his pack. It didn't budge- which he should have expected, it was quite a large bag of rice, after all- so Adrien set his feet and yanked.

The backpack came off the ground as Adrien lifted the bag. He groaned.

"Nino, can you hold the backpack down for a moment?" he asked, ignoring Plagg's warbling "and then the cheese curds are salted- so squeaky! Oh, fresh cheese curds-" in the background. "There's some rice in here that got stuck."

Together, the two of them wrestled the rice bag free without ripping it. Master Fu beamed when they brought it over to add to his bag.

"Ah, so that's where that went," he said cheerfully. "I did wonder. I knew we were a bag short. We still have a couple cans, a block of cheese, and a few bags of kwami food unaccounted for yet, so keep looking."

Adrien and Nino nodded and headed back to their bags.

"Well, my legs appreciate the break," Nino said as they sorted through their clothes. "The hiking up and down-hill is really hard on them."

"And that's what we're going to be doing for most of the rest of the trip," Adrien pointed out. He found a bag of dried peas in the bottom of his pack and lobbed them over in Master Fu's direction. Wayzz perked up and dragged the bag over to the pile of food being sorted. "It's pretty much all mountains out here."

Nino groaned. "My legs."

Adrien muffled a laugh. "Just think about how great your legs will look when we get back, though! Just in time for pool season!"

"Yeah, except I've already been to the pool this year, and people are going to notice if I suddenly have calf muscles that are out of this world." Nino picked up a shirt, sniffed it, then made a face and tossed it in a different pile. "You'll be fine, though, you and Marinette. You were already in good shape and no one will ask any questions. And you're assuming that I'll still have legs left after this."

"Are you looking forward to getting back?" Adrien asked after a pause. He glanced over at his friend. "I mean, I know we only just started out, but..."

Nino flashed him a grin. "Honestly? Nah. I usually get bored over the summer anyway, or I end up babysitting my little cousin a lot. And I'm no Alya, I'm no good with kids. This is the trip of a lifetime, even if we do have to dig a hole in the ground to use the bathroom and hike until my legs ache and eat practically the same thing almost every day. And even if we have to listen to your kwami singing about cheese," Nino added after a second's thought. "Which, dude- d'you think you can make him stop?"

Adrien glanced over at his kwami. Even though no one was paying him any attention, Plagg seemed to be quite into his song.

"Honestly? No."

"-and then the cheese is aged! Oh, age that cheese, age it fine, let it develop a beautiful rind-"

[janellion]

You are my favorite place to go

pairing: daichi sawamura x f!reader (intended as f!reader but can be read as gn!reader)

genre: fluff (best friends to lovers, mutual pining)

summary: in which a tough night leads to one of the best days of your life

wc: ~3.7k

written for @megalodon-writes​ ♡ you really inspired me with your thoughts on a dream day with daichi & i wanted to bring that to life. i’ve never written anything like this before, but i hope that you enjoy this & that it brightens your day a bit 🥰

songs i recommend listening to while reading: 🌙 I’m with you — vance joy | ☀️ favorite place to go — layup | ✨ soft glow — taletta | 💫 homemade holiday — babygirl

The day starts off with your phone buzzing itself off the edge of the bedside table 🌙 

You groan as you reach over to grab it off the floor, only to flip it over and have the bright screen shock your still-adjusting eyes. When they do adjust, you see 10 messages from your best friend, Daichi, screaming at you in all caps

GET UP AND GET READY CAUSE I’M TAKING YOU OUT TODAY, I’LL BE THERE IN 15 MINUTES

Late last night you had messaged him about how tough your day at work was, but Daichi being the responsible person he is, had gone to sleep at 10:30pm and had not seen your messages until this morning

When he did wake up, only to be greeted by these texts from you. he was ready and determined to take your mind off the tough and disappointing events of the previous day with a whole day dedicated to spending time with you, doing your favorite things

15 minutes on the dot after his text, you hear the rumble of Daichi’s old truck pulling up through your window. You peek your head out, only able to see his hands on the steering wheel through the windshield. You watch as they clench tightly before putting the truck in park, turning it off, and disappearing as he opens the door and gets out.

As daichi walks up the familiar path to your front door, he sees your head peeking out of the window and his face immediately lights up, his arm already raised in a wave. 

“Well, let’s get going! We’ve got a lot to do today!” he calls as he jogs up to your front door.

You race down the stairs, running to open it before he has a chance to knock. 

“Hah! Beat you” you say, a smile tugging at your lips as you open the door to see his arm raised with his fist poised to knock.

He chuckles sheepishly and brings his raised hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it as a subtle blush paints its way across his cheeks. He looks down to try and hide it, but you’re too busy turning around and locking the door to notice, before jogging down to his truck and climbing into the passenger seat like you’ve done it a million times before which you have

Daichi smiles at you fondly from the front step before walking around and climbing into the driver’s seat. He turns to look at you, with a smile that lights up his eyes and makes them shine. 

“Guess where we’re going?,” he says through that smile, one that you’ve come to know so well, but still manages to send your heart racing. 

You feel a smile start to creep onto your face, despite the previous day’s troubles that had been weighing on you, and your attempts to seem nonchalant about being swept away for an entire day with the man across from you. 

“The ice cream place?” you ask, your eyebrows raised in question

“Nope,” he says as he grins, starting the truck and pulling into the street

“The park?” 

“Nope”

You smile, and just because you know it’ll get a laugh out of him, “Hmm, the office supply store?”

This question has the desired response, as Daichi laughs and moves to set his arm on the back of the seat, before looking over at you. 

He smiles again, his eyes shining before he says, “Yup! We are going to get you some new type 2 pencils and ballpoint pens,” laughing warmly before he even finishes the sentence

He pulls his arm back and goes to select a song, turning the volume up before his arm returns to the steering wheel

With that, you turn to look out the window, taking in the scenery outside as it rushes by. The sun shines high in the sky, brightening everything it touches, and as you take in the scenery, the music, and the presence of the man at your side, you feel content, like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be

You don’t know how much time has passed, before you jolt yourself back and realize you never determined where you were going. You turn to Daichi and ask him as such, to which he responds with a warm chuckle

“We’re almost there, just wait and see”

With that, you turn back towards the front of the vehicle and start to look more closely at where you are. When you start to realize, you turn to Daichi, your hands going to grip his forearm with excitement

“Daichi, are you serious? Are we—“ 

Before you can finish your sentence, daichi pulls into the parking lot of the aquarium, and turns to you with the biggest grin on his face

“Surprise!” he exclaims, as he looks over at you, your eyes wide with excitement and mouth stretched into a smile as you take in where you are. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing any wider, instead gesturing to the front of the building with a sweep of his hand

“Well, let’s head in!,” he laughs affectionately as he watches you scramble out of the truck, your excitement pulling you forward before you realize that Daichi is lagging a few steps behind you

You sigh in exaggerated frustration before backtracking, grabbing his hand, and pulling him forward with you, almost jogging into the building. With you looking forward, you fail to see Daichi’s blush, starting at his cheeks and spreading to his ears and his neck, as he looks at your hand in his

When you push through the front doors of the aquarium entrance, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust before you are greeted by the huge glass wall featured in the lobby of the aquarium, showing all sorts of fish and aquatic life swimming around

You think you see a giant pacific octopus perched lazily on one of the rock formations, and are just about to tug on Daichi’s arm to point it out to him before you realize he’s not standing beside you. You look around for a moment before you find him, smiling kindly at the ticket clerk as he pays for your tickets

You feel a bit of heat color your cheeks with a rosy blush at the idea of him really taking you out today. Although you had been close, arguably best friends, for years, you had always been fair about paying for your own tickets, meals, and other events

This, however, was something new. Not unwelcome at all, but new

Shaking this thought from your head, you turn to him, about to offer to pay for your ticket, before he holds his hand up to stop you

“Look, it’s my pleasure, it was my idea, and I want to take you out. Let me?” He smiles, before dropping his hand and gesturing towards the floor to ceiling glass wall in front of you

“Okay I know you want to, tell me everything about everything,” daichi says, his voice fond as he glances over at you, the shine in your eyes and the smile on your face betraying your excitement

You smile and nod enthusiastically, before spilling into an explanation about the different species of fish and aquatic life that occupy the environment in front of you, throwing in ocean and fish related puns between your wealth of knowledge

The entire time, Daichi watches you, the way you gesture with your hands when you’re talking about a species or fact you’re particularly passionate about, or the way your eyes light up as you point towards a fish you want to tell him about — and he knew his heart had never felt as full or as much someone else’s as that moment ☀️

He wasn’t left much time to dwell on this particular thought before he was wrenched back into reality by your hand tugging on his shirt, as you looked at him impatiently

“Daichi, come on! We have a lot more to see!”

The rest of the morning consisted of you dragging Daichi to various different exhibits, starting with the tide pools. There, you spent the better part of an hour telling him about all the different anemones and tide pool life, and laughing as he rolled his sleeves up and hesitantly dipped his finger in to touch one

He squealed jumped and pulled his hand back as he felt the anemone attach to his finger, looking at you in surprise

“What was that?!” He exclaimed, eyes wide and hand clutched to his chest, cradled gently in his other palm 

You laugh as you explain, “that’s how they get their food! It swims by and sticks to them and they uh, eat it!”

He looks at you in shock, as though you had personally led him to his death via anemone. You laugh at his bewildered expression and grab his hand, pulling it up to your face to inspect it. You make a show of rubbing your chin before looking him in the eye with a completely straight face. 

“It was a close one, but I think you’ll live,” you say, trying to keep your voice serious, but the teasing tone and smile tugging at your lips are unmistakable 

He pulls his hand back, rubbing at the back of his head, as he tries to hide the blush developing on his cheeks at having your hands so gently holding his

Before he can say anything, you take off for the rest of the exhibits, the seals, sea otters, river otters, and tropical fish, with Daichi following after you, watching with a faint smile on his face. He eagerly asks you questions and is so excited and happy (also very impressed) about all the ocean facts that you have stored up. 

You visit all the exhibits in the aquarium before finishing up in the gift shop. You browse some of the books on marine and aquatic life, as well as some of the toys, before turning to see Daichi approaching you, his hand stuffing something into his front pocket

“Find anything you like?” He asks, gesturing to the stuffed octopus that doubles as a hat in your hands

You smile and put it on for him, “How do i look?” you say, trying to make a goofy face

Daichi just smiles and looks at you, eyes full and trying to communicate something you can’t quite identify. He opens his mouth, about to say “You’d look amazing in anything, even that” before he bites his lip and says instead, “That poor octopus, what did it do to you?”

You gasp in mock offense before tossing the octopus back in the pile and walking out of the shop, a smile tugging at your lips

As you get back in the truck, you turn to him, face still slightly flushed from excitement and a smile painted across your face.

“Thank you so much for taking me out today, that was so much fun,” you say, turning to face daichi as you buckle yourself in, already feeling much better than you did a few hours ago 

He turns to you, raising an eyebrow as he grins mischievously, “Oh we’re not done yet” he says, as he puts his arm behind your seat to back out of the spot

You look at him in surprise, mouth falling open slightly. “What do you mean? What else is there to do?”

He returns his hand to the wheel, before turning to you and smiling. “Since you guessed so poorly last time I guess I’ll just have to tell you”

You roll your eyes at that, giving him a light punch in the arm “Just tell me, Daichi, c’mon”

He grins, and pulls onto the road, “We’re going to the amusement park”

Just as you’re about to respond, he guns the truck because he knows this will make you grab onto his arm and gasp. Slowing down a few minutes later, he turns to you laughing, and you start to feel laughter bubbling up in your chest

Before you know it, the two of you are laughing together, tears welling in your eyes as you look at the man next to you, his eyes bright and shining as they look in your direction with that same feeling you still can’t quite identify

As you calm down, you smile at him and say “Alright, I hope you’re ready to get some popcorn and go on every ride they have”

He laughs, his hand coming to rest on the seat between you resisting the urge to reach over and put his hand on your thigh as he grins in your direction

“I wouldn’t have it any other way” ✨

Before long, you’re pulling into the amusement park parking lot and Daichi is turning the truck off. You hop out of the truck and close the door behind you, before moving to stand next to Daichi in front of the truck

You both take in the environment before you, the large arching metal rides, the faint sound of excited screaming, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, before turning to each other and grinning

“Last one to the entrance buys the popcorn!” You yell over your shoulder as you take off in the direction of the sounds and smells

With your back turned, you miss the warm look on his face as he takes in your hair flowing behind you as you run and the sound of your laughter as you get further away

It takes him a moment before he realizes that he’s supposed to be racing you too distracted by how the light hits your hair and the feelings threatening to break out of his chest, into his throat, and out his mouth and he takes off running after you as fast as he can

You beat Daichi to the entrance, laughing as you see him run to your side. For a brief moment you wonder why it took him so long to get there when you know how fast he is daichi!thighs! but you shake the thought from your head as you watch him walk toward the ticket booth

You’re moving to pull your wallet out before he turns to look at you, points his finger, and with a stern look that doesn’t reach his eyes says, “Don’t even think about it”

Your cheeks starting to warm but that’s just from the heat and the excitement of running, right? before you shrug. “If you want to blow your money on me, that’s fine,” you say as you grin

He laughs, taking both of the tickets, and walking forward into the amusement park. You follow behind him, taking in the rumble of the rides above your heads, the laughter and shrieks of the fellow patrons, and the smell of popcorn now that you’re really there

You spend the rest of the day going on every ride in the amusement park, adrenaline high fueling the laughter that bubbles up in your chest whenever you look at Daichi in the seat next to you and see him laughing with a carefree smile on his face

As the sun begins to set, you settle on one of the benches as Daichi goes off to buy some popcorn, but not before you tease him thoroughly for losing your earlier race. He takes the teasing like a champ, sheepish smile on his face, warm look in his eyes, and hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down to hide the blush creeping up his face

He uses getting the popcorn as an excuse to get a breather, because if he kept looking at you, hair windswept, cheeks red and bright from the rides, and wide smile on your face from the excitement and adrenaline of the afternoon, those words and feelings that threatened to burst from his chest and out his mouth may actually be successful

And today was about making you feel better, not about making his undeniable feelings for you known

As he returns with your popcorn, he hands it to you, your fingers brushing against his for a brief moment before he settles on the bench next to you. You look up at the sky as Daichi checks his watch

“It’s 8:00” he says, looking over at you with a soft smile

You freeze, your hand midway to your mouth with a piece of popcorn “Already?!,” you ask in surprise, looking over at him

Daichi chuckles, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks as he takes in the site in front of him. He turns to look up at the sky, dusk settling as the sun moves down the horizon, blanketing the sky in a dark blue, before he stands up, brushes his hands on the fronts of his pants, and offers you a hand

You take it briefly, trying to ignore the warmth and strength of his hand as he helps you up, before standing and throwing your popcorn container into a nearby trashcan

The walk back to the truck is quiet as you both reflect on the events of the day and any feelings you may or may not be stifling down. As you climb into the truck, you sigh contentedly, a small smile on your lips. You look over at Daichi, who has just gotten into the truck, and can’t help the softness in your voice at your next words 

“Daichi,” you pause as he turns to look at you with brown eyes full of feeling, eyes turned up in the corners and shining as he gives you a fond smile, “thank you so much for today. You are such an amazing friend and I am so thankful to have you in my life. You really helped me feel better about everything”

It’s not exactly how you feel, but it’s as close to it as you can get for the moment

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and breaking eye contact as he rubs the back of his neck. There’s a brief pause before he looks up at you, “It’s my pleasure, really” he says warmly, before turning the truck on and pulling out of the parking lot 💫

He rolls down the windows and turns the radio on, and you both watch as the sun sinks behind the horizon, painting the world in inky blackness, save for the fading lights of the amusement park behind you and the twinkling stars in the sky

You expect to have a quiet drive back to your house, before you notice that Daichi is driving in the wrong direction. You look over at him expectantly and he seems to sense your eyes on him, as he looks over at you with a warm smile on his face. 

“Our day’s not over yet,” he says, eyes flitting back to the road, though the smile and flush creeping onto his cheeks remain 

With that, he pulls off to the side of the road and shuts the truck off. You look around, noticing that you’re in the middle of nowhere. You turn to Daichi with your eyebrow raise. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were about to murder me or something,” you tease as you grin at him

You stick your head out the window, feeling the fresh night air on your skin and taking in the open sky in front and above you, before turning back to him

“But seriously, what are we doing here?”

He just chuckles and gets out of the truck, moving to the back and gesturing through the window for you to follow him. You walk around to the back, meeting him and quirking your eyebrow. He gestures to the back of the truck where you see blankets and pillows laid out in the bed

Daichi looks at you, eyes full in that way you’ve been noticing more and more as the day has gone on. He smiles and holds his hand out to help you climb up

“I thought we could end the night stargazing,” he says, voice soft and gentle, the only sound filling the quiet space between you

You take his hand, failing to ignore the warmth it seems to radiate and the increase in your heart rate, as you climb up into the back of the truck. You lay down and get comfortable, briefly wondering how you didn’t notice all of this set up back here, before you feel Daichi settle in beside you, your arms pressing against each other from wrist to shoulder

You feel the warmth of his skin and can’t help but smile, heat coloring your cheeks. Next to you, Daichi shifts so that he’s facing you, his brown eyes open and honest and full of what you’re just now realizing is love

“I know that you had a tough day yesterday so I didn’t want to make today about me at all but” he pauses for a moment, eyes searching your face, continuing after you give him a slight nod, “I need to be selfish for a minute because I need you to know that while all of this originally started as me wanting to support you and take your mind off things, it really turned into me—“ he pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks into your eyes before continuing, “realizing how I feel about you. I want to be the person that you talk to about your crappy day, that you tell ocean facts and puns to, that gets to go on every ride with you and would probably puke if it didn’t mean cutting their time with you short”

He grabs your hand in his and brings it up to his lips, searching your eyes for any sense of hesitation. Finding none, he closes his eyes briefly and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles before continuing

“I don’t think you have any idea what you do to me,” he says softly, chuckling as he looks back up at you, finally letting all of those feelings burst out of his chest and shine through in his eyes. “I want every day to be like today,” he says, squeezing your hand and letting it rest on the space between you

You look at him, blush coloring your cheeks, smile growing on your face as you squeeze his hand in yours. 

“I’d like that too,” you say, your eyes shining and full of love, showing him that you feel the same way

You both grin at each other, before turning onto your backs, Daichi pulling you to his chest as you both look up at the stars and talk into the night, the first of many like it.

a/n: i forgot to include this but Daichi bought a keychain at the aquarium to commemorate your day together. He starts using it the next day and never stops

thank you so so much for taking the time to read this! i love you all 🥰 

notes: i’m open to taking requests but can’t guarantee that all will be fulfilled 

also, i based the aquarium off the seattle aquarium! The big glass wall is a real thing — it’s like a giant window into the puget sound that they have in the lobby. fun fact: my senior prom was held there