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hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong · 4 years ago

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Sick day

Nightingale: he's sick, specifically it's a cold.

Quetz: really?!

Rex: I've got a cold... that's tr- *sneeze* trash

Quetz: so what should we do?

Nightingale: master just needs some rest, keep him in bed and take care of him.

Quetz: is that all?

Nightingale: I can give medicine but the body can handle a cold on it's own pretty easily, just needs rest.

Rex: still anno- *sneeze* annoying

Quetz: ok that's enough mi amor, you're going to bed.

Nightingale: if you need anything else just ask.

Quetz: gracias Nightingale!

Later on in their room, Rex is laying in bed wrapped up.

Rex: is it really fine for me to just lay in bed all day?

Quetz: it's not that it's fine, it's that it's needed mi amor. You need to stay in bed and rest.

Rex: uuuugh! *sneeze*

Quetz, handing him a tissue: pls cover your nose.

Rex, taking it: sorry.

Quetz: and don't you worry about a thing mi amor, I'll be by your side the whole time.

Rex: nice. Thank goodness servants can't get sick.

Quetz: si, so you don't have to worry one bit mi amor.

Rex: well I guess being sick isn't so horrible then.

Afterwards Quetz made a phone call to the kitchen.

Quetz, on the phone: Hola! Boudica? Can you make a meal for mi amor?

Boudica: sure thing, what is it?

Quetz: he's sick so I want you to bring him some chicken soup.

Boudica: oh no he's sick! Sure, I can make you that soup, but wouldn't it be better if you made it for him?

Quetz: normally I'd agree but I don't want to leave his side while he's sick.

Boudica: alright that's fine, I'll get started on the soup.

Quetz: muchos gracias Boudica!

Then the two hang up, Quetz now pulling out a chair to sit next to the bed.

Rex: y'know Quetz you can still join me in bed *sneeze* you can't get sick.

Quetz: gracias mi amor but I think it's best I keep some distance.

Rex: I disagree, in fact I wanna cuddle.

As he says this he reaches his arms out for her

Quetz: no mi amor, not while your sick.

Rex: uuuuugh! This sucks

For a while the two stayed in their room, having a conversation or two with Rex still begging for cuddles. Eventually a servant does arrive with the soup.

Knock knock

Quetz: coming!

Quetz opens the door to see Ereshkigal standing there

Quetz: Ereshkigal? What do you need?

Eresh: actually Boudica asked me to bring you the soup she made. All of a sudden there's a lunch rush so she had to stay.

Quetz: oh OK then! Gracias!

Eresh: no problem!

Ereshkigal hands her the soup, but still has something to say

Eresh: can I see master

Quetz: sure! Just be careful.

Ereshkigal comes inside to see the sick master laying in bed.

Eresh: hey master, you alright?

Rex: could be better, but all in all it's not horrible. Atleast I have Quetz with me.

Quetz: aaawww

Eresh: is there anything I can do?

Quetz: not sure, hmmm...

Quetz: oh! You can go to the infirmary, there's some medicine I heard could help!

Eresh: of course! What kind is it?

Quetz: I don't remember the name, but it's some kind of cream and it's starts with a V

Eresh: got it!

Then Ereshkigal leaves to go to the infirmary. While that's happening Quetz gives Rex the soup.

Quetz: there you go mi amor, some nice hot chicken soup.

Rex: nice

Rex opens up a container with the soup, steam coming out after he opens it. He started to slowly eat it, being careful to not burn his tongue.

Quetz: is it good?

Rex: very! *slurps some soup* mmmm! Want some?

Quetz: si!

Rex, bringing the spoon to her mouth: say aaah!

Quetz: aaah *nom* mmmm! That is good!

Meanwhile with Ereshkigal. Eresh had gotten to the infirmary

Nightingale: oh, Ereshkigal. Is something wrong.

Eresh: no, but Quetzalcoatl asked me to get some medicine from here.

Nightingale: oh sure, which one?

Eresh: she said it's like a cream... starts with a V

Immediately the nurse puts a small rectangular container with the medicine inside into her hands.

Nightingale: this one here

Eresh: oh! Thanks!

Nightingale: of course.

After that Ereshkigal went back towards Rex and Quetz's room to give it to them.

While in the room, Rex was finishing up the soup.

Rex: mmmm, nice soup.

Quetz: si! We should have it more often!

Rex: yeah

Knock knock

Eresh: I'm back!

Quetz: oh!

Quetz opens the door, to see Ereshkigal holding the medicine.

Eresh: is this it?

Quetz: si! Muchos gracias Ereshkigal!

Eresh: no problem

Quetz takes the medicine and goes over to Rex, but Ereshkigal starts to come in.

Quetz: oh Ereshkigal, I don't think you should stay

Eresh: huh? Why not? I can still help

Quetz: while I don't doubt that I think for your sake you shouldn't stay

Eresh: why?

Quetz: because I have to apply the medicine to mi amor's bare chest

Immediately Eresh became red from embarrassment

Eresh: ah! OK! Well good luck!

She leaves the room quickly to avoid the situation.

Quetz: hehehe, she gets embarrassed too easily

Rex: right.

Afterwards Quetz gets on the bed, standing over Rex on her knees.

Quetz: take off your shirt mi amor, or do you want me to do it for you?

Rex: well... I'm not aga-

Quetz: too slow!

Then Quetz quickly pulls Rex's shirt off, revealing his bare scar riddled chest. Quetz then opened the jar and put some of the cream on her fingers

Quetz: now we just rub this on here, and your nose should open up.

Rex: oooh, this feels good.

Quetz: what does? The medicine or me rubbing your chest?

Rex: uh.... both I guess.

Quetz: hehehe, so cute mi amor.

Rex: hmmm...

Quetz continued to apply the medicine to Rex's chest to help him with his cold.

Quetz: there, that should be good enough. Don't put your shirt back on, the cream might ruin it.

Rex: ...alright.

After that Quetz got off the bed, and put the jar of medicine away.

Rex: y'know mi corazon you make a pretty great nurse. Maybe you should dress the part one day?

Quetz: hehe, well maybe when you're feeling better I can play some dress up for you.

Rex: mmmmmm! That'd be nice!

The day continues on, Rex and Quetz spending time together while Rex recovered. Thankfully no emergencies occurred while Rex was sick. Slowly over time Rex felt better and better.

Quetz: mi amor, you're looking better right now.

Rex: huh, I guess I do feel a bit better.

Quetz: then it seems your rest is paying off.

Rex: yeah! So... does that mean... we can cuddle now?

Quetz: I've got a better idea.

Rex: hmm?

Quetz: how about a nice hot shower together? How's that sound?

Rex: !!!! Hell yeah!

Quetz: *giggling* I knew you'd like that idea.

The two then went into their shower together. Quetz started with applying shampoo to Rex's hair.

Quetz: *humming* have to keep mi amor's hair nice and clean

Then after that the two switched with Rex applying shampoo to Quetz's hair

Quetz: I'm not too tall am I?

Rex: no! I can reach just fine mi corazon.

The two continued on, cleaning each other while enjoying the warm water. And each other.

Afterwards they got out and dried themselves on towels.

Quetz: now how do you feel mi amor?

Rex: I feel great! That was fantastic!

Quetz: what was? The shower or my body?

Rex, blushing: Quetz... pls don't tease me...

Quetz: *giggling* sorry! You're just so cute!

Rex: well sooner or later I'm gonna flip it on you and make you blush!

Quetz: can't wait to see you try!

A/N: there we go. Lil story of Quetz carring for Rex. Humans still gotta deal with sickness, even when saving the world. Good thing we've got such amazing servants to help us.

Tags

@hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasastolfodoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @castlecsejtespeakertechnician @hasnightingaledoneanythingwrong @nureenarts @kierakaz @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @valiantstrawberrymilk @haskamadoneanythingwrong

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #rex #rexcoatl #mastersona #nightingale #ereshkigal #boudica

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years ago

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Next up on our list my lovelies is Paul! A special thank you to @trescharmant-mydear for helping me with brainstorming ideas when writers block had me stumped! I hope you fang babes all enjoy the next boy in our child birth saga!

Lost Boys Fem!S/O Gives Birth [2/4]

Paul

The whole pregnancy thing was undoubtedly a massive shock when you had finally told him. At first he wasn’t even sure it was his. Granted you slugged him for even suggesting you had been having an affair but he couldn’t help it! The idea of impregnation was pretty much impossible as far as they knew. He had no heartbeat, the blood in his veins was dead and black, he kind of assumed by that point his gun was shooting blanks. That is until you began rejecting anything that wasn’t blood or meat. Every day he could see more of that reality coming into play. At first he thought maybe he had just imagined it, but when your stomach grew in really sank in.

He was terrified beyond belief knowing he’d soon be responsible for a living, breathing thing- er baby- guh! The word freaked him out. No one even warned him what came with it. Well, Dwayne tried to but those books were nasty. Especially the pictures. Paul tried his best to sit through them but it just stressed him out! There wouldn’t be a doctor! There would be no sterilized hospital bed where a team of nurses would be on standby if there were complications- hell, they wouldn’t be able to know if there even were any complications! That’s what scared him more than anything. You both were utterly in the dark. Were you healthy? Was the baby healthy? Could this kill you if they weren't careful? Ultrasounds were out too, so he couldn't even know if it was a boy or a girl. The uncertainty of it all was torture!

The only way he knew they were still alive was from his own bizarre connection to them. Sure his mental powers were never as clean cut as David’s, but he could still feel their emotions inside you. It was raw. There were no clear thoughts. Even the emotions would pile over each other. Hungry, tired, anxious, hyper, mad, happy. It was almost like there was more than one consciousness in there, but he just figured it was your own heartbeat and emotions clouding the baby's.

Hormones were wild between you both. You wanted sex more than you ever had before, and at first he was all for it. Being the mother of his unborn child brought out a desire that was utterly foreign to him. Yeah he loved you to death before, but now… he couldn't keep his hands off of you. The first few months it was wild, but the bigger you got the more worried he was that something could happen if he lost control. Okay, well, as long as he was careful right? But, things did not go exactly to plan when a firm kick pressed on his erm… Needless to say it certainly freaked him out. Then came the morning sickness.

Fuck whatever liar came up with that name. “Morning”? Try morning, noon, night, and the ass crack of dawn. Twenty-four seven. He hated seeing you hugging a trash bin, panting between excruciating heaves that made your stomach spasm. Paul could only hold your hair back while you gurgled out sobs. It was even harder knowing he was partially responsible for putting you in this position to begin with. Afterwards he’d carry you back to your bed. Yeah, bed. All the guys had felt that you needed something way better than a couch to crash on. There were more pillows and blankets than you could count. Piles on the bed, scattered on the floor, stacked up in the corners. With a bit of searching they’d found a pocket-cave branching just off their own that kept you out of sight and even better, nearby. What Paul really couldn’t account for was how frickin’ clumsy you were!

Oops you just banged your knee! Well looks like you accidentally nicked your hand while peeling a freaking apple! Paul nearly ripped a guys head off for bumping into you on the boardwalk just to cut in line with his stupid friends. Eventually he just refused to leave your side during the second trimester when he found a bruise on your stomach. You didn’t have the heart to tell him those were from the baby kicking. While the guys went hunting he’d just lay beside you in bed gushing over your taut belly. The baby always stirred when he spoke, even more so when he’d serenade them. His voice always made your face heat up, and inside you could feel your child eagerly pressing up. While Paul was certainly uneasy about his encroaching parenthood he was over the moon the first time the baby really kicked. Even if it seemed scary he was so excited he could hardly sleep most nights. Every day he'd wonder when they'd get here, bombarding you with thousands of questions.

"Do you think they'll have your eyes? I bet if it's a boy he'll be a bad ass like his dad, huh," he asked. There was almost a glee to his voice, it was so adorable to watch him shed that panic for just a moment to fantasize about the baby. Anything. Teaching them to play guitar, taking them on their first hunt. He didn't care if it was a boy or girl. Part of you really hoped it'd be a little girl.

“They probably won’t get any eye color until the fifth month I think,” you’d remind him, flipping through the aged pages of a baby book. "I do know if it is a boy he's gonna be so much like you."

"Unless it's a girl," he pondered, tapping your belly like it was an over ripe melon, watching it stirr with life. "Oh god you'll break so many hearts. But no boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Only dad."

"Babe thats not gonna be for years," you assured, petting his head. "You can't keep them from dating when they're old enough."

"Uh, the fuck I can't," he retorted, his hand kicked again. "Yeah I said it. No dating for you"

As they grew you could feel something was.. Off. Granted you couldn’t do much to check but, it almost felt like there was more than one heartbeat...

Your due date was slowly rolling closer as summer shed it's long, hot days for the chilled season of autumn. Tonight was a late, stormy October night. Most of Santa Carla was holed up at home hoping it wouldn’t rain tomorrow on Halloween. Paul grumbled slurping at a blood bag laying on his side as he propped his head on his hand, currently bored out of his mind while you carved at a pumpkin with Marko.

“I think it needs more teeth,” you’d say to yourself out loud.

Marko peeked over, titling his head to the side. “More eyes too.”

All the guys decided to stay back tonight. It wasn’t just the rain, all of them were nervous to leave you alone. None of them were doctors, but even they could tell your stomach was much bigger than expected. Dwayne was flipping through an old book while David had just gotten back from a hunt.

Ever since you hit your third trimester each of them took turns gathering blood. A few blood bags alone would not cover it for four hungry vampires and an honorary vamp who had a ton of cravings. Instead they'd carry four or five empty milk jugs that'd be filled to the brim with sloshing, goopy red fluid.

"Guys, you oughta go get something to eat, you don't need to watch me twenty-four seven," you insist, carefully dragging the knife through the thick gourd's flesh.

"This wasn't up for debate last time, it’s still not now," David retorted, tossing one of the jugs Dwayne's way. Marko caught a second one, eagerly knocking back a swig. The sight made you want to throw up again. It was slow, like a thick molasses dyed crimson with globs of congealed plasma. Okay looking at the pumpkin again before you had to puke.

"Don't worry about us, Y/N," Marko insisted with red stained teeth, tossing the now half empty jug to Paul. "It's only a few more months. Blood is blood."

Paul stood up, swooping behind you with his arms around your shoulders. "Speakin' of blood kitten, you need to eat." You looked at the jug as he set it on the table and immediately scrunched up your nose. Now, it'd been seven and a half months of drinking it, so you'd gotten used to the bizarre taste of salty, vinegary cherries with a metallic aftertaste. It always made your body heat up, the feeling itself was better than any booze you'd tried. But the texture. Oh god the fricking texture! Blobby, goopy, slimy- no!

"Uuuugh," you hesitated, only to have Marko push it towards you. “Can’t I just have a raw steak or something, it’s not nearly as gnarly as straight blood.”

"Don't be picky, you need to eat."

You glanced back at Paul who was just pouting behind you. "Come on babes, drink up."

Once again. Thick, soupy but warm fluids ran down the back of your throat. Everything felt heated, spreading from your stomach to each of your limbs. This time you felt an ache in the base of your abdomen. It was enough to incite a small gasp. And with that suddenly each of them had sat up.

"What's wrong, what's going on," Paul quickly asked, placing a hand over your stomach.

Marko had stood up, looking at you with a furrowed brow. "Is it-?"

"Guys, guys," you interrupt. "I'm okay, I swear. It was just a cramp."

It wasn't even a surprise when Paul lifted you up again bridal-style. "Paul,c’mon, I’m fine, really."

"Nope, nope I am not even risking that shit babes. C'mon kitten I'll lay with ya," he insisted, kicking anything on the floor out of his way. But again it ached. This time it lasted two minutes. You clung to him, trying to take a breath. This wasn’t your average false contraction that would only occur maybe every hour. "Paul- Paul it's not stopping."

"Wait wait wait what," Paul asked in rapid following, gently setting you down. Marko had gotten up to help you stand with Paul on the other side. A sharp pain wrapped around your waist. Now another two minutes. It was enough to make you double over with your hands over your stomach.

"Shit oh shit wait hold on." Paul was in a panic. He wasn't ready! The baby wasn't supposed to be there for another month! It was too soon!

You, on the other hand, were far too busy trying to keep yourself standing. It wasn't just your abdomen. It was your stomach, all the way up your back, your womb felt like it was being torn open from inside. Dwayne jumped over the sofa when the two blondes failed to move, lifting you up. Your jeans were soaked, sharp pains were faster, harder, any time another contraction squeeze you let out an agonized cry.

They all made a mad dash for your room, propping you up against a pile of pillows. "No, no wait, don't look," you insisted to the others as Paul tried to help you get your soggy jeans off.

"I'm about to help you push a baby out, and you're getting embarrassed by us seeing your underwear," Dwayne questioned

"Shut up, turn your fuckin head," Paul snapped. Carefully he draped a blanket over your legs, pulling off your jeans. There was utter fear across his face. He was so afraid of what this could do to you.

"Hey.. its okay," you assured him, cupping his face. Well, okay was a bit of an overstatement. Still, the tender touch seemed to provide some small ease as he placed his hand over yours. Again, you assured him it'd all be okay. Marko came running in with a bucket of warm water, David was grumbling about carrying over a mountain of towels, Dwayne leaned over Paul tapping him hard on the back of his shoulder. "Paul you need to check how dilated she is."

"WHAT?"

It was time for both of you chiming in disbelief. "No no, wait Dwayne man, I can't-!"

"If she pushes before she's ready, the baby will get hurt in the process," he interrupted him, grabbing Paul by his shoulders. "You gotta do it, man, I can't do it for you."

"The fuck, why me?!"

"Paul?!" It was your turn to question his logic and the blonde threw up his hands, clutching at his head trying to think.

"I'm sorry! I'm panicking!"

"Dude Paul," Marko shouted.

"What?!"

"Listen, man, this can't be good for either of them. Nut up, dude," he assured him, patting his back. Paul looked at you, still trembling on your bed. You were just as scared as him, bottom lip trembling, he could even see your shoulders shaking. "...okay…"

The feeling was so uncomfortable. You couldn't even focus between the throbbing pains that shot up your back and the tearing pull between your legs. Tears burned your eyes, you thought you might pass out. Marko was rapidly wiping away sweat from your face, letting you hold his hand. Even if you broke it, unlikely, it'd heal in an hour anyways.

"Okay how many fingers can you manage," Dwayne asked, getting a strange look from Paul. "Just tell me how many, you asshole.:

"It's like, all my fingers man I dunno what that means."

"Go to her man, I got this," he assured, pushing him up to you. Paul climbed up on the bed beside you holding you tightly in his arms with your shoulder nestled against his armpit with one arm over your shoulder and the other you immediately snatched his hand, panting rapidly. "Shh slow down baby, slow down."

"God it fucking hurts," you whine, throwing your head back on the pillow. Blood stained the bed, a thick pink-red spot on the blanket spreading out. Your face was completely flushed as a tight pressure slowly dragged down your back that made your toes curl. If Paul wasn't pinning you in place you would be writhing. There was a horrid fire in your body, there were no words left in you, only screams. Dwayne's urges to push were muffled, the ache in you back slowly pulled lower until you were able to hear them. A thick gurgle followed by high pitched, raspy wailing. While Dwayne had pulled the infant into a thick, fluffy towel something felt wrong. It still hurt. Your stomach felt no relief, in fact you felt it pull and ache again. "Wa...wait i.. no it's-it's not done, I'm not done," you whimper in a panic.

"Wait what the hell do you mean you aren’t done?! I thought there was just one?!”

Paul looked over at Dwayne, who in turn ran to David and passed the swaddled newborn his way much to his dismay. “Just hold them for a minute man, we weren’t exactly expecting more!

“I got it,” Marko volunteered, climbing off to bed to hold the baby carefully in his grasp. Your screams tore through, a second wave of pain reviving old agony. There was little relief as the same horrid tension in your back spread out. Paul coaxed you through it, but somehow it hurt even worse than before.

“No,” you cried, shaking your head. Your face burned, tears streaming down your face leaving your vision completely blurry. “No no no, I can’t, let me go! I can't, I can’t! Paul, I can’t-!”

“Baby, listen you can do this! You got this, yes you fucking do,” he yelled over you holding your head to his shoulder. “Listen to me. C’mon you fucking got this, kitten! Don’t you give up, don’t you dare fucking give up now!”

With everything you had you screamed until your throat felt raw, pushing as hard as you could until finally, finally… it stopped. A huge wave of relief made your muscles go limp. Two. You just had given birth. To twins. The realization had finally hit Paul asw he looked up at Marko still holding his first born. “Are they…”

“Dude, you got a girl,” he beamed, carefully passing the swollen new born half-awake clinging to the towel. Occasionally her grey eyes squinted open, making trembling whimpers until she nestled back into sleep.

You managed to catch your breath, Marko helping you lay down while Dwayne circled around with your son. A boy too. You couldn’t help but laugh through tears, finally able to see his face after so many months of waiting. Paul couldn’t even hold back tears, laughing like an idiot as he pulled you both in his arms. “Fuck man… oh shit I’m a fucking dad,” he choked out, trying to hide his tears.

“Let it out man,” Marko teased, patting his shoulders.

“Shit man I can't stop crying... they’re so perfect.” Paul ran a hand gently over his son’s head still softly crying in your arms, watching him soothed as he clung to his finger. He looked you in the eyes, both of you just in utter awe that you brought not one, but two lives to the world. Nothing but tears and smiles between you. It was October 31st, 2 am, and you had spent the past four and a half hours of Hell to bring your twins (Girl Name) and (Boy name). Paul could not even fathom the amount of love he was feeling, trailing kisses all over your lips and cheeks. “Happy Halloween, kitten.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, laying your head back against his chest just unable to tear your eyes away from your beautiful new family after so many hours of grueling pain, so much waiting, in the end it was worth more than either of you had ever dreamed.

“Happy Halloween, babe…”

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ryttu3k · 4 years ago

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Finishing up SoNY, ‘bad’ end and final thoughts!

But first, the early game over.

Wow, she just gets shot. Not even slurped? That’s rude as hell XD;;

And on to the ‘bad’ end!

Beginning is much the same, ofc.

“You’re too in love with weaving a good story and establishing a seductive narrative to let facts get in the way.” Foreshadowing for the ‘good’ end, maybe?

God that Embrace scene gives me literal goosebumps.

Alright! Last time I did Danse Macabre and Retributive Justice, let’s try The Risks of Swiping Right!

lmao god I’d eat this guy too. Back to the ghost club! That legitimately is a really neat scene. ...Ooh yes so that’s where the girl was from.

Panhard just lowkey dying at the mental image of Katherine Weise in a fast food restaurant is so good.

The sweet scene between Julia and Dakota hits a bit different after the ‘good’ end XD;;

Went to the park, reminisced, and helped out the guy. That was sweet ;_; High-humanity Julia, this time!

‘Fairy God Mother?’ is great but ‘Vin Diesel?’ is objectively the funnier response.

“Shining even more brightly than usual, Aisling.” Samira got a cru-ush~

Poor Julie. It’s probably been tough without Sophie around :(

Huh. Interestingly, refusing to lie to Mia results in Julia actually feeling genuine loyalty to the Cammies (for now, at least).

Believing Agathon is still alive = more optimistic = different dialogue! See, this is how you make choices have consequences, game!

Oooh boy time to meet Adelaide XD;;

“She uncrosses her legs in a strangely seductive motion. In her mind’s eye, it probably looked like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, but in reality, it had all the grace of a tracksuit Slav squatting.” *snickering*

Fight me, Adelaide >:(

‘sup Nastya. Went with the slightly less disruptive routine here XD Huh, she’s an aspiring DJ! Julia is deeply confused as to how being a DJ and being head of security works together.

lmao Julia referring to Hope as a girlboss. That phrase has lost all meaning to me...

The conversation between Julia and Father Leonard is still really interesting. Man, you know who I want Julia to talk to? Anatole. Interesting insights into balancing being queer Catholic vampires there for sure.

lmao oh my god I want to fight this street reporter.

‘I can almost feel my brain losing its wrinkles.’ *snort*

Yeaghhhh the Abyss bit is still so creepy...

Oops. Being honest regarding Tamika and Torque’s relationships gets a fail :(

Oh, or not XD That works! Also, uh, apparently the giant albino ghoul alligator is real, according to New York by Night. He’s Calebros’ pet.

��Because I think I have a pretty good nose for people’s auras. And when I take a good look at you... ...somehow, I have a feeling you’re a surprisingly decent person. Whatever way of unlife you choose, I hope you don’t change it. And that you remember my advice.” :)

“I know.” Oof.

“Hi.” “WAAAH!” lmao sorry Princess XD;; Just trying to imagine Qadir’s face as he tells Julia to find a 1990 glass statue of Scrooge McDuck... dying...

Oh she’s so a Toreador XD Low art options are a fantasy book, an anime DVD, or a video game... those can all be arty, though! And went with the anime DVD called ‘Ririsu no Daibouken’... that translates to ‘Adventures of Lilith’. How on the nose XD “The cover says ‘Lilith’s Carnal Carnival’.” Oh. Yeah, that’d do it XD

“This 90s original video anime presents us with a tale of five big-bosomed samurai warriors travelling through America in search of General Hastavista, The Incubus King. Don’t let all the titillation misguide you: the main draws here are peerless direction, a nearly avant-garde editing rhythm and dialogue that coyly comments on traditional gender roles in anime. Once you see the animation in the final battle, you’ll understand why it never fails to set a sakuga fan’s heart ablaze!”

She’s my new favourite.

“So can I know your name now?”

“Hmmm... Let me think...

No. <3″

I need to stress that the heart appears in the dialogue box. Like. The actual less-than-three heart.

Didn’t investigate the rat this time, so Qadir did and I die. “Glad you’re alright, little guy.” Qadir...

Still not over the drunk blood doll rats.

Kaiser’s still a goddamn creep and this time Julia is not going too far. She still has her humanity, dammit. Final set of traits:

Loyal to the end

Glass half-full

Not into a bad cop schtick

Honesty is the best policy

No more human, still humane

Onwards to the ‘bad’ end! Oops, and Dakota still did the Single White Female thing XD;;

Man I’m still really curious who the ‘good friend’ is!!

Okay! Time for end game!!

So that’s the good friend, huh? “Let me phrase it differently, then. You’re not Ecaterina the Wise, the Agitator of Prague, a Brujah elder causing turbulences all over the world... are you?”

Mention of Christof! Mention of Christof doing shady shit :| Poor Hana.

“An immigrant from Eastern Europe comes to New York City, takes the position she always expected to find herself in, is molded into someone who is no longer herself.”

Julia and Dakota representing Carthage is kind of neat.

I want to say the mention of St Jude is a reference, but I’m not sure what to XD;; Is that from Redemption? Christof could have been the one to tell Hana that.

“Like a two-person human centipede loop or something. An Ouroburos? Or an, uhh, Mobius strip?” No, that’s the other traditionally Sabbat clan XD

That‘s. That’s a hell of a reconciliation XD “Yeah, let’s give it a try. By the way I’m on the run for my unlife, want to go to California and try to find utopia?”

Julia, wear a fucking mask XD

“Hey.”

“Yeah?“

“Do you love me?”

“... Of course I do. For now, at least.”

I still don’t know if I love her. Or even if I can love anyone, for that matter. I’m a fucking monster, after all. I don’t even know if we’ll exist next month. The prospects are not looking good. But although I can’t see myself in the rearview mirror right now...

...I will remember this image of us leaving the city, somewhat melancholic, and somewhat hopeful, forever. And maybe the meaning of this image will be clarified with time. Or maybe I will just force a more positive description on it, and that is what I’ll believe.

No matter what happens... even if oceans of blood lie before us, I will make this a cherished memory.

Whatever possible salvation still remains for me... ...it probably lies in the eyes of another.

Oh dang I have chills.

So the ‘bad’ ending is about the subverted compromise. Julia resigns herself to letting the compromise about the truth of Callihan’s death go ahead. ‘Catherine’ is a walking compromise to hide the Ecaterina’s real deeds. But while Hana is still stuck in her role for now, Julia refuses to accept the compromise she’s made, both the one relating to the investigation and the compromise she made of her own views and morals. It might blow up in her face, yeah. But damn, she’s going to try.

So, final thoughts! For the sake of completion, this is what I said about Coteries:

And of course this is the part where the game all falls apart :-\

Just… god. This is probably the biggest problem with CoNY, and the reason I didn’t bother getting it until it was like… 60% off. The bulk of the game is great - the writing is intriguing, the design is stunning. But the choices themselves are so limited it’s barely worth even getting it at 60% off!

You have three choices of characters, with their own opening chapters and own individual scenes with their touchstones. You have four choices of coterie members, and three sidequests. You can probably get in at least three full story arcs and a sidequest or two, but you’re only ever limited to two of your coterie members showing up at the not-yet-endgame.

So let’s say you decide to play all three protags, which, indeed, is encouraged (there’s an achievement for it). You are going to repeat coterie arcs and side quests, because there simply aren’t enough for three unique playthroughs.

And then you get to the end and literally everything is scripted. You get attacked by the SI. You get rescued by your two coterie members (and then never see them again, despite the game being called Coteries of New York). You meet Torque, you escape the SI, Sophie reveals her plan to Torque, you go to Ellis Island, Adelaide kills Sophie (and despite the fact that you’re given multiple options there, none of them work), Arturo does his spiel, end of game. You don’t even get to choose between ending up blood bound or going “no fuck you” and at least dying with a bit of dignity!

I just. I really want to like it, and there genuinely is a lot there to like! But uuuugh the ending. Like damn at least give the poor protag the option to choose what happens to them!

Anyway. Not sure what’s next. To get all the achievements, you have to finish with all three protags, so that’s three full runs and a lot of repetitiveness (compare to, say, Bloodlines or Night Road. I have eighty-five hours on Night Road and there’s still stuff I haven’t seen!), so I can’t even just… rush it through up to the meeting with the touchstones on the third play. Nope. Gotta finish it :-\

Final rating: 6/10

8/10 characters, 9/10 atmosphere, 8/10 story aside from ending, 3/10 story ending, 2/10 replayability. Final consensus: get it on major sale if you can, otherwise, you might as well just watch an LP. I might do that instead of doing a third run, although I at least want to do a second.

I ended up revising that 6/10 to 5.5/10 after finishing all runs and getting the achievements just out of how goddamn repetitive it was. So, how does Shadows measure up?

Absolutely continued with all the things I enjoyed about CoNY (characters, atmosphere, and writing), and of the bits I hated (cookie cutter protagonists, lack of real choice, repetitiveness, the godawful ending), every single part has been completely improved.

Instead of three fledglings so similar they even have the same internal thoughts, we have Julia, who’s got such a distinct voice that she becomes the most memorable game protag I’ve seen in years, and I’m including non-VtM games in this. This is absolutely her game, and it’s just... absolutely fascinating to read and watch.

Related - actual real choices. There are five key choices that determine the ending, and every single one has actual consequence in-game. You get different dialogue. Different introspection. Different philosophies. And this carries across - if Julia believes Agathon is alive, she’s more optimistic about her relationship with Dakota, too. And of course, both endings are completely distinct and incredibly written - the ‘good’ ending where Julia gives in to her most Lasombra instincts, plays the game, wins it, gets power and respect at the expense of her humanity and avoiding all those wraiths... or the ‘bad’ ending when she listens to her morals, reconciles with Dakota, and leaves for California, uncertain, but hopeful.

Not a lot of repetitiveness. Yes, by design, you’ll probably do two playthroughs. The main plot is much the same, but there are enough options there to get multiple dialogue options and stuff. And for the little sidequests, you can actually get all in with just the two playthroughs, only repeating like... two, I think. Still, I wasn’t feeling actively bored like I was midway through my second run of CoNY!

Loved seeing more in-depth backstory and development for the coterie members. Agathon’s section was particularly fascinating, literally getting into his head.

And just. Atmosphere and music is so, so good.

Final rating: 9/10. Thank you, Draw Distance, you hit it out of the park.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm shadows of new york #ry plays sony

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ragewerthers · 4 years ago

Text

Mucked Up

Summary: While on a frog hunting mission for Sania, Noct gets into a little trouble with the bog and with Ignis.

Will he be able to fix this? Or did he really muck things up?

A/n: Hello all! This fic was created from another lovely prompt from my friend @bgn846! She asked for: 'Noct and Prompto go frog hunting for Sania. One of them gets stuck in the mud. Hilarity ensues.’ This fic grew sentient about halfway through and went in a different direction then I expected, but I hope everyone can enjoy the silliness, the whump and the fluff that will ensue! You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018892 Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3822

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

The squelch of mud beneath their boots made Noct’s nose crinkle slightly.

“Why do Sania’s frogs always have to thrive in the muddiest part of the swamp?” he grumbled, slapping at his neck as another mosquito buzzed and landed on him, intent on stealing more of his royal blood.

Little bastards.

“Did you ever consider that it’s because they’re… ya know… frogs?” Prompto teased as he followed carefully behind Noct on this little adventure Sania had set before them.

“You’re hilarious,” Noct deadpanned, growling as another mosquito swooped down to avenge his fallen brethren only to meet just as grim a fate by the Kings hand. “And what is with these bugs?! Why don’t they go after you?!”

“Because when Mama Ignis told me to put on bug spray I listened,” Prompto said, pointing to himself with his thumb as he puffed out his chest proudly. “You, on the other hand, were too busy trying to make sure your tackle box had those new cactuar lures because we both know you thought you’d get to fish. Which, surprise surprise, you can’t do in a bog.”

“There could be fish in there!” Noct tried to argue, looking out into the murky water only to watch as a giant bubble of swamp gas burbled up and belched into the air.

“... if there’s a fish living in that then he is a monster and should probably be left alone,” Prompto said honestly before gagging and covering his nose as the scent of the rancid swamp gas finally wafted over to them. “Blegh! Scratch that! If a fish is living in there it’s probably a daemon and we definitely need to leave it alone!”

Noct nodded quickly as his own hands came up to cover his nose, his eyes watering from the smell now surrounding them. “Oh… oh my gods… did the swamp just die?!” he gasped, waving one hand in the air to hopefully dispel some of the smell and succeeding in sending it back toward Prompto.

“Dude! Not cool!” Prompto cried, retching slightly as he turned tail and fled from the smell.

“It’s not like I did it!” Noct argued, trying to get away quickly as well, only to find himself listing forward as his upper half moved but his legs refused.

Arms wheeling in the air like a windmill, Noct failed to keep his balance and fell forward regardless of his valiant attempts. His hands sank into the squishy swamp mud, the force of which sent a good few glops splattering onto his face. “UGH!”

Prompto turned just in time to see the almost faceplant and honestly after getting bog gas wafted at him he found himself giggling at the swampy vengeance.

“That’s what you get for being terrible!” Prompto called from the firmer footing near the edge of the swamp. “Now come on! I think I heard something croaking over by that willow!” Turning on his heel Prompto began to walk away, leaving a glowering Noct to try and stand up.

“Hey! Wait for me!” he called, pausing a moment as he realized what Prompto had implied about his fate. “And I didn’t do anything!” When all he got back was a cackle Noct decided that as soon as he caught up with his friend he was going to give him the swampiest hug of his life! Once more he made to step forward and almost immediately repeated what he’d just done. His body tipping forward as his legs stayed firmly cemented in the…

“Uuuugh!” Noct groaned, looking down at the mud now encasing his boots and around his shins. He only just stopped himself from running his hands through his hair in agitation considering they were covered in mud, dead plants and whatever else the bog had claimed as its victim. “Prompto! Hey Prom! Come back! I… I think I’m stuck!”

“What?” Prompto’s voice called from somewhere in the thicket of the surrounding forest.

“I’m stuck!” Noct shouted back, reaching down to try and somehow yank his own leg out of the muck and mire. It wasn’t until he heard a shuttering click that he knew Prompto was back and he groaned, looking up to find his friend with the biggest smile on his face and his camera in hand. “.... really?”

“What? You know that I have to document our adventures no matter what!” he teased, only just keeping a giggle out of his voice.

Noct was less than impressed. “Is that so? Where was this camera when you got poison ivy on your butt? Or the time you spilled curry on your pants? Or the time you kissed your Chocobo?” “That was one time! And I was asleep!” Prompto squawked back, his cheeks going pink at the memory. “And don’t think I don’t know that Gladio took a picture of that moment!”

This time Noct did laugh, smiling innocently. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about? Gladio? Do something like that? Oh what will the Shield of Lucis think when I tell him what you think of him?”

Prompto squeaked at that and shook his head, waving his arms wildly in front of him “Nonono! Don’t say anything! Then he’ll definitely be on the hunt for more embarrassing photos!”

Shaking his head at his Prompto’s reaction, Noct pretended to give a deep hum of thought. “Well… if you can stop taking embarrassing photos of me and help me get out of here, I’ll consider it,” he said with a nod, causing Prompto to grumble even as he dismissed his camera back into the armiger.

“You’re a real stick in the mud, you know that?” Prompto mumbled though he smiled at the word play and glanced around for some sort of vine or stick for Noct to grab a hold of.

“Oh my god! You’ve been hanging out with Specs too much,” Noct said with a light smile making Prompto chuckle as he knocked a stick against a rock to test its strength.

“More like not enough. He would’ve had at least seven bog and mud induced puns at the ready,” the gunner joked, trying to carefully make his way closer to Prince, picking his way along the more sturdy edges of the swamp.

Noct contemplated that as he tried to twist a little to better face Prompto as he moved. “I mean… you’re not wrong. He would’ve been having a field day here,” he said, imagining Ignis with that look of slight disapproval at his mistake mixed with delight at such an easy target to tease. For all that people thought they knew about Ignis, no one ever pegged him for having a wicked teasing streak.

“Yeah. He probably would’ve said something like… ‘Oh Noct… I do hope you aren’t feeling ‘bogged’ down.’” Prompto said, pitching his voice a little lower and trying to go for Tenebrean, but hitting something that sounded more like the worlds most obnoxious snobbish royal.

Noct instantly snorted into a ridiculous laugh and shook his head. “A-Astrals that’s terrible!” Noct laughed, shaking his head. “Besides you didn’t add enough Iggy into it.”

“Oh? Well then go ahead, master of impressions. How would Ignis respond?” Prompto chuckled, looking down at his feet as he finally found what he considered to be as a good a place as any to brace himself.

Noct hummed in thought for a moment before puffing his chest out a bit and putting his hands on his hips, one of his hands coming up to push up non-existent glasses. “Noctis, do you know how terribly terrible those stains are going to be to get out?” he spoke, his own voice tipped into a deeper Tenebrean accent that sounded like a drunk version of Ignis.

Prompto instantly burst into a cackle at the sound, the force of his laughter making him hunch over and needing the support of his rescue stick to keep him upright. “O-Oh my gahahads! What was thahat?! It w-wasn’t even a pun! You were j-just berating yourself!” Prompto wheezed.

Noct couldn’t help laughing a bit as well and smiled over at his best friend. “What?! Tell me I’m wrong!” he called over Prompto’s laughter. “And you know that’s what I’m gonna hear when I get out of here! ‘Oh Noctis, what am I going to do with these socks? That’s it! Vegetables for a week! Beans and shame for you!’”

Prompto was crying he was laughing so hard, sending Noctis into a giggle fit of his own, though once he had enough breath he couldn’t help adding to the banter.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum! How dare you ‘swamp’ me with all this cleaning?”

“Noctis, this is ‘moss’ unbecoming of a royal!”

“Oh Noct, I can only ‘lichen’ you to a bog monster right now!”

“��Marsh’ you be so messy?”

“Come now, surely I don’t sound that harsh?” a cool and accented voice broke through the laughing fit the two younger men were having and it was like they had been visited by Shiva herself and frozen in time.

Turning to look up at a small incline that led to the swamp, Prompto and Noct were both met with a rather unamused looking Adviser and a slightly smirking Shield.

Quickly, Noct ducked down, starting to dig his hands into the muck around his legs and startling Prompto. “Noct?! Dude, what are you doing!?”

“Digging my own grave, obviously!” he shouted, getting a snort from Gladio which was quickly silenced by another look from Ignis.

“That’s enough,“ Ignis’s voice spoke calmly, but with enough behind the words to still the motion of the other two. “Would someone care to explain what is going on here?”

Prompto turned his head back to Ignis, feeling the color drain from his face as those green eyes locked on him like a Coeurl ready to pounce. “N-Noct’s stuck,” he squeaked, feeling just a little stupid now for holding onto the stick he’d found to rescue the prince.

Ignis arched an eyebrow at this and turned his attention back to the young Prince who had finally stopped digging in the mud and was looking anywhere but at them with his arms crossed over his chest. “Is that true, Noct?” he asked.

“..... maybe,” Noct mumbled petulantly, mostly a front to hide how embarrassed he was over the fact that he really was stuck and also how he felt a bit of guilt for making fun of Ignis without him knowing.

“I see. Well. While I’m sure you both have an extensive knowledge of what I would say in a time like this, let me impart a bit of advice. Just three simple words,” he said, his voice eerily calm in a way that had Prompto and Noct shrinking back a little. “Noct can warp.”

And with that, the Adviser turned on his heel and headed back towards the direction of the haven, leaving Gladio still standing on the small hill. The man looked down at the both of them and shook his head.

“And let me impart three little words as well,” the Shield said, lifting his hand and counting off the words on his fingers. “You. Fucked. Up.” With that he turned and followed the same path the Adviser had just taken.

Noct stood there for a moment, watching his two advisers… his friends… leave. In that moment he felt more gross than any swamp gas bubble.

“You made Mama Ignis mad at me!” Prompto shouted from the sidelines, snapping Noct out of his thoughts as he turned to see a flushed and angry looking Prompto glaring at him.

“What?! You’re literally the one who started it!” Noct shouted back, narrowing his own eyes and watching as Prompto huffed at that.

“I was joking about his puns! You were making him sound mean!”

Noct opened, closed then opened his mouth again only to close it for a second time. After a moment he sighed, letting his shoulders droop. “I was,” Noct said after a moment, rubbing a hand on his arm and shaking his head.

Prompto’s glare slowly fell at that and he ran a hand through his blond hair. “Yeah well… so was I. I just… don’t like upsetting Iggy. He doesn’t deserve that. And… we really do have terrible Tenebrean accents, dude.”

Noct winced at that, realizing that not only had they both teased Ignis behind his back, but they’d also made him sound like that. Oh god, did Ignis think that’s how they saw him?!

Noct groaned and ran two muddy hands over his face, not really caring anymore what he looked like. “We gotta make this right. We will make this right.”

Prompto gave a little smile at that and nodded. “Yeah. We will. But uh… you might want to get out of there first. I can’t believe we didn’t think about you warping out.”

This time Noct groaned for a different reason and dropped his hands. “That’s because we were too busy being idiots. Specs always has our backs… even when we mess up.”

That knowledge only strengthened his resolve as he picked up a glob of mud, readying it to lob toward the edge of the bog.

Once he was free… they were going to make this right.

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

“I thought your clothes were supposed to warp with you?” Prompto said as they made their way back toward camp. Nocts boots, trousers and one sock now trophies to the swamp.

“Yeah well… so did I. I wasn’t focusing properly,” Noct grumbled a little as Prompto giggled, but soon he felt a soft bump to his shoulder and he glanced over to see the gunner smiling gently at him.

“It’ll be okay, Noct. We can right this with Iggy,” he promised, making the Prince give him a small smile in return.

However, as they got closer to the camp, both of them could hear Gladio and Ignis talking. It looked like they were both facing Ignis’s camp stove, their backs turned to them as they neared and unaware of their presence.

“Iggy? It’s okay,” Gladio said, his voice soft making Noct and Prompto frown as they glanced at each other.

”No. It’s not,” Ignis’s clipped tone answered back, shoulders hunching a little. “It’s not okay. It’s not alright. It’s not fine.”

Prompto and Noctis paused as they watched Gladio frown, his hand coming up to rest against the Adviser’s back. “It is. Or… at least it will be, right?”

Noct definitely frowned at that. Of course it was going to be okay!

Ignis’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve ruined it.”

What?! Their friendship?! No, no! Noct couldn’t believe what he was hearing! He was the one that had ruined everything!

Gladio ducked his head a little, his hand coming up to hold onto Ignis’s shoulder and gently moved him so the man would look him in the eyes. “Hey. None of that. You haven’t ruined anything, I promise,” he tried to reassure, but the way Ignis turned his head away showed how little he believed in Gladio’s words.

“It appears I can’t do anything right today,” the Adviser whispered and then… and then, to Noct and Prompto’s horror they watched as he brought his hand up, wiping at his eyes.

They.

Fucked. Up.

“Iggy NO!” Prompto shouted, darting ahead and startling Noct, Gladio and Ignis, the latter two both turning to look with bewilderment as Prompto raced toward the haven.

Noct watched for another second before his mind caught up and he took off as well, his chest feeling heavier than he’d ever felt it before. “Ignis please, I’m sorry!” he shouted, quickly clambering up the rocky face of the haven to get to where Gladio and Ignis still stood stock still.

Prompto was the first to get to him and quickly wrapped his arms around Ignis, burying his face against the man’s chest. “I’m so-OOF!” His words died on his lips as he soon felt Noct running into them as well. Sadly, Prompto’s first attack had left Ignis unbalanced and so with Nocts extra force there was no stopping them tumbling back and into a giant heap on the haven floor.

“Wh-what’s gotten into you tw-!” Ignis began before being silenced by a litany of apologies.

“Ignis I am so, so sorry for what I was saying back there and it wasn’t fair or funny of me to make fun of you like that!” Noct spoke quickly.

“Yeah! What he said, Iggy! I never meant to upset you and you know we don’t think of you like that!”

“Guys?” Gladio began, but paused as Ignis shot him a look before glancing back at the two still hovering over him with the most earnest faces he’s ever seen.

“You really mean that?” the Adviser asked and Prompto and Noct instantly nodded.

“You’re the best, Specs. I’d literally still be in the swamp if you hadn’t showed up!” Noct tried to explain.

“Exactly! Did you see what I was trying to use to save him? A stick, Iggy. A stick!!!” Prompto lamented, covering his face with his hands.

“I hope you know that you haven’t ruined anything,” Noct spoke up again, leaning back a little and nudging Prompto to do the same so that they weren’t crushing Ignis. “We… we were just being stupid, ya know? Teasing and joking, but it was unfair to do that and about those things. You are only ever looking out for me.”

Prompto nodded as well, giving Ignis a small smile. “Not to mention you also have some of the best puns. We never meant to make you feel bad or like you ruined anything. I’m sorry we made you feel that way, Iggy.”

Ignis looked between the two of them, the equal looks of uncertainty and worry still in their eyes and as they moved back he slowly sat up as well, rubbing his lower back a little. “While it definitely isn’t fun to walk up on two people whom I consider to be my friends talking about me in such a fashion, I can assure you that it would take harsher words then that to truly hurt me. I have had to deal with the Council since I was sixteen, remember?” he asked, looking between the two as they ducked their heads a little.

“Still… you shouldn’t have to compare us to the Council in terms of how much we hurt you,” Noct mumbled, still unable to look up at Ignis, Prompto nodding from the other side of Ignis where he still knelt.

With a little shake of his head, Ignis leaned forward, resting his hands on both of their shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. “What I was trying to say is that I’m fine. I promise. And I really did find some of those puns to be good, though the accent was a bit offensive,” he conceded, watching as they both turned their heads so quickly toward him he thought they were going to snap something in their necks.

“But… but you… you said that things weren’t alright?!” Noct quickly tried to explain.

“You looked so sad! And… and you were crying!” Prompto pointed out before jumping as he heard Gladio let out a bark of laughter from behind them. “What’s so funny?! We hurt Ignis!”

The man in question shook his head with an almost fond sort of exasperation on his face. “While I appreciate that you two were so quick and so willing to right your wrong, I’m afraid to say that my lamenting was over what we are having for dinner.” “... what?!” Ignis chuckled a little and brought a hand up to cover his mouth. “My apologies. I was working on a new recipe before we realized you two had been gone too long. By the time we got back it had already overcooked and needless to say after trying it again it just… wasn’t coming together quite how I wanted,” he explained, watching as dismay appeared over their faces. “As for the tears you can attribute those to some rather pungent wild onions. As I said before it would take more than what you two sa-..!” Ignis was knocked back once more as Noct and Prompto launched at him, enveloping him into the biggest hug he could remember.

“I’m sorry if I made you two worry,” he said quietly, but was instantly silenced by two pairs of eyes looking up at him with slight annoyance.

“No… you don’t get to apologize. We messed up. And we’re sorry,” Noct reassured and Prompto followed it up with a nod before hugging him a little tighter.

“Can you ever forgive us, Mama Ignis?” Prompto asked, and Ignis really couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping, making the other two relax a little at such an honest reaction.

“Of course. I forgave you both before I even made it back here,” he said with a nod. “Now, while I really do appreciate the hugs I think it’s best if I get up and get cleaned up considering Noct has decided to honor me with a bog hug.”

Noct instantly squawked as he sat back in horror, realizing that he had indeed coated the Adviser in mud and schmutz. “Oh Astrals, I’m so sorry, Specs,” he apologized again, only stopping as Ignis sat up with another chuckle.

“It’s fine, Noctis. I assure you,” he said, carefully getting back to his feet as Prompto and Noct followed suit. “It’s nothing a little soak in some... ,” His words stalled out as he finally took in the other two. “Noct… where… how… what..,”

Gladio snickered a little at the look of confusion, walking over to Ignis and wrapping an arm around his waist as he looked at the Prince. “I think what Ignis is trying to ask is… what happened to your pants?” Noct looked down, face turning red as he remembered where they now resided.

“... the bog ate them,” he said quietly, the campsite quiet for only a few beats before a snort from Ignis shattered the silence.

The poor Adviser was laughing so hard he was squeaking, having to take off his glasses to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes.

Gladio, meanwhile, was chuckling beside his partner and turned to look back at the other two. “I think you broke him,” he teased, getting a small swat from Ignis who still was trying desperately to stop laughing, but was failing miserably. One look at Noctis had him wheezing again and turning away with an apology as he continued to laugh.

Noctis couldn’t help smiling at that and shook his head. No. If anything he felt he had finally fixed things. And if that meant standing like a pantless bog monster to get his friend to laugh then it was worth it. Click “Prom!”

“I told you I have to document everything! And Ignis cry laughing over you in your underpants is top tier material!”

Still worth it.

#ffxv #my fics #f3s #gladiolus amcitia #ignis scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #prompto argentum #non-tickles #I hope you like this my friend!#I loved getting to write a little silliness and h/c!!!

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butididnottried · 5 years ago

Text

I’m late to the party, but whatever. After a (ehehe he) few months of thinking about it, i finally watched netflixs “She-Ra and Princesses of Power”.

- Oh. Oh... Oh wow. Just wow. All these jokes and memes about Catra and therapy makes so much sense now. Like, even TOO much. This show have no business in showing all these issues so good, and yet, there they are.

- Scorpia is such a cinnamon roll. But she’s so stressed. She tries to play it cool, but man, her stress level is on some cosmic level. I have no idea how she do not lost it and not murdered anyone. Come on big girl, i’m going to be your best friend and you can hug me as much as you want. <3

- Hey Adora.

- I hope that Shadow Weaver will not pull some betrayal shit right now and will stick with the rebellion against Horde Prime. I don’t need her to be redeemed, she don’t really deserve that and probably don’t even want that. Also, she’s on the good side out of bad motives, so that’s that. But her changing sides again would be just stupid and too predictable. It’s obvious that she will again try some shady magic to “save” the planet, while also at this same time gain more power, but i hope that will blow up in her face. Badly. Buuut. Since king Maika is alive and back at Bright Moon maybe he will have some good influence on her. Strongly doubt that, but its always a possibility.

- Bows voice acting is probably my favorite in the whole show. The comedy timing with his voice, when it’s going a little to high and cracks up? That’s The Good Stuff.

- And i don’t really like Entraptas (not Entrapa, what) voice timbre. This voice actress is very good - like every other on this show tbh - but something about her voice alone annoys me. She also often sound like her nose is stuck? Which is a nope for me.

- Hey Adora.

- Ah, Entrapta, my adorable science baby. How someone so smart can be so dumb at this same time. I know that she’s autism coded, but im not talking about that. She figured out this whole The First Ones tech, this whole connection of magic, princesses and rune stones to the WHOLE planet, but didn’t thought even for a second that maybe activating this machinery could most probably blown everything up. Really? ReaLLY? But maybe that’s just a science people thing, being sooo much into it, that nothing else matters? Idk, i’m a dumbass, i do not get science very much. But when she was like “we need to turn this portal thing off, Hordak will understand” i was like “oh no, oh honey, no, he DEFINITELY will not” and this moment was kinda hilarious. Oh well.

- And they we’re lab partners. _^_

- I don’t really know why, but i like Hordak. He’s that good kind of dumb, angry and nor very well socialized villain. Well, he lived in a place not very well suited for proper socializing. Yeah, that - he got a nice, kinda different backstory. Usually when a character is a clone their big and dark torment is the fact that they’re a clone. But he’s even proud of that? Because the original one is powerful and magnificent Horde Prime, so it’s an honor to be his clone. His problem is that he is a defective clone, unworthy, when he was made for such grande purpose like conquering the galaxy. I can’t even very much blame him for his bending for murder and destroy. Not because he’s sad, but because he was made in a lab to be like that, more or less programmed - murderous, angry and destructive. In cases of characters like that it’s not very much like an explanation, but almost an justification (but hey, that’s me, about fictional people, so chill please (: ). It’s like blaming a not self-consciousness machine for going rouge. Well, Hordak is not a stupid, unaware robot, but idk, there’s no real analogue in real world for a beings like this, so i “choose” to feel like that about fictional characters being made to be put-there-whatever. Also, he’s physically so fragile? It’s hysterical. It feels like the faintest wind would blow at him, and every bone in his body would broke.

- And what i wrote about Hordak i think also about Light Hope. Shes and AI, probably almost at point where she could obtain self-consciousness, but not quite yet there. And she did what she did because she stick to her main program, she really didn’t have a choice. But she had! This one time. Because she is capable of learning and grow beyond her program. I don’t now if younger audience is going to catch that, but i’m happy that AI was showed as it is - just an very advanced AI, and not a mean, bad person. Or maybe she is self-aware and i just didn’t noticed that. Also, her design. <3

- hEy AdOrA.

- I was so ready to like Double Trouble, and eeeh. The only magic here is acting. I do not copy, i perform. I put everYTHING into ROLE! I’m an Artist! ArTiSt! IT’S ART! asdfghjkl just go away with that you pompous prick. Uuuugh, this is just the worst kind of artists. But, i still appreciate how they do not have any sad backstory (yet?), and are there only for money, drama and spreading chaos. At least someone is having fun in all this mess.

- Adora is so gay for big ladies. When all this mess is going to end, she deserve some romantic plot with gentle butch. Give Adora some big woman to love, you cowards!

- One of Bows dad is wearing socks and sandals. That’s it.

- Swift Wind was visiting madame Razz all this time, because shes and old lady living alone in the woods. My heart just melted. <3 Also, i really want to know whats going on with her. Like, no one cares that’s shes probably more than a one whole thousands years old? But it look more like she has some time bending powers, that she do not control? And it messes with her memory and mind? Poor lady. ):

- I had this feeling deep in my guts that The First Ones are going to be revealed as stupid bitches. And hey, they turn a magical planet into a super weapon. Why these ancient civilizations are such ignorant morons?

- I know that relationships between characters are the most important thing in this show, but man, i was so much there for the worldbuilding. The more information they were giving, the more i was like “just tell me what’s going on!!!”. And wow, i’m not disappointed. A++. But tbh, if we put aside all this cute stuff like magic, princesses and shiny, magical stones, this whole shit is pretty terrifying.

- When during daring rescue of Glimmer and Bow in Fright Zone Perfuma admitted that working with Entrapta can be... kinda difficult, and Entrapta - with a smile! - just nodded in agreement. This. This is probably my favorite joke in this whole series.

- h e y a d o r a

- Seahawk. Much love. Much joy. Gold of heart, dumb of ass. Yes.

- Also Huntara. Damn, woman, can you maybe tune down your attractiveness? I’m trying to keep myself together here.

- Designs in this show are just top notch. Bon Appetit.

- I love how this world is inhabited by so many various creatures, not only humans. NICE.

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doomstypewriter · 5 years ago

Text

Helpless Au - A draft fragment

This is my Prinxiety ghost/haunted mansion AU.

More about the AU

If anyone wants to be tagged on posts regarding the AU, please, just comment, I’ll be thrilled.

Helpless Au - A draft fragment: In which Logan saves Virgil’s life from a situation worse than social interaction and, thus, they become best friends.

This is written quickly, because it’s a draft, not to say that it’s poorly written (although that would be for each one to judge), just that some transitions are fast as a means to tell efficiently what’s going on.

CW: Persecution, swearing, anxiety on Virgil’s part (but that is to be expected). Nothing more I can think of (don’t hesitate to tell me if you find anything else).

Word count: 2069 (heh, you know what that means).

Virgil goes down the pathway that takes him out of the grounds of Patton’s house. Even though the sun is still setting, there’s a certain degree of darkness because the clouds have turned black. A pouring is about to start, Virgil rushes so he doesn’t get caught in it on his way back to the mansion.

He reaches the dirt path that’s beside the road, he ought to be in the mansion in a matter of five minutes, provided that he walks at a decent pace. Patton’s house is relatively near the mansion, but, for starters, Patton’s garden and the mansion’s are equally enormous, and, secondly, the access that connects them by road, the only way to come back without jumping a fence (which wouldn’t have been an ideal first impression for Patton’s grandma, but, now that Virgil knows her, perhaps the strange woman would have found it hilarious), is quite twisted.

Virgil sees a person walking in the distance. He doesn’t really care for it, he simply internally prays that they won’t speak to him. Social interaction would be worse than anything. ANYTHING.

Predictably, it begins to rain and Virgil quickly gets his folding umbrella out of his backpack. Quite a thoughtful present from his dad, not to mention the cool design with a giant white skull on a black background. He keeps on walking whilst thinking ‘fuck, my converse are turning into soup. Heh, my converse are at soup. But, for real, this is horrible’.

After a while he realises that the person from before is keeping the same distance and Virgil proceeds to methodically overthink it: ‘they don’t have an umbrella, how is it that they aren’t walking faster? They’re getting drenched!’. He asks himself too where are they even going, taking into account that the only thing ahead is the mansion. In the end, Virgil chooses to walk faster. So does whoever. This is when Virgil lets go off his umbrella and RUNS.

Our favourite emo searches for his phone, but lo and behold, it’s not anywhere to be found. The memory hits him like a brick ‘OH SHIT I MUST HAVE FORGOT IT AT PATTON’S. COOL. I’M GOING TO DIE’. The stalker keeps on running and jumps over the umbrella, sprinting towards him.

Suddenly, a bike races by and skids into a stop with a deafening sound of the brakes. Logan is on that bike.

He looks at Virgil with a deadly serious expression and tells him to hop on. Virgil runs for the bike and gets on holding onto Logan.

Logan starts pedaling like a bat out of hell. THANK EVERYTHING THAT LOGAN’S LEGS ARE LONG.

“Sorry for not bringing a spare helmet, I wasn’t prepared for this happening”.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking care. You just saved my life”.

Would you look at that, there was something worse than social interaction after all. The universe must love him dearly to correct him in such a kind way.

“I wouldn’t exactly say so, but that man running after you is certainly distressing”.

“Light way to put it”.

“You’re right. It was scary. We ought to call the police as soon as possible”.

“You bet. What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know. Oh, on the subject of calling, you left your phone at Patton’s”.

“Yeah, I found out while I was being chased. Honestly, thank god for my forgetful ass”.

Logan laughs loudly.

“Indeed”.

“I won’t tell Patton you laughed”.

“Thank you”.

“No, thank YOU, man”.

They arrive at the mansion completely soaked. He asks Logan for his phone and calls Janus to open the door.

After a while, the entrance door swings open.

Janus starts by saying: “Sorry if you rang the doorbell, I was in my room and I didn’t…” that’s when he takes a proper look at his brother and Logan and is worried sick. The only thing he can ask, obviously, is: “WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Virgil explains, not gladly, none of the events could quite get him in the mood, the world shall be left wondering why.

Janus tells him to take Logan to one of the bathrooms and let him borrow some clothes so he can get the shower he so desperately seems to be needing and also instructs him to do the same while he calls the police and their father.

The sound of keys then is heard. Janus mentally tells himself ‘one less call, then’.

The father enters frantically asking for Virgil, two umbrellas in his hand.

He sees him wet from head to toe in the hall with his friend and runs to hug his son.

“I saw your umbrella laying on the road on my way here. Thank god you’re fine. What happened?” he asks while looking at his sons and Logan.

Janus gestures him while on the phone and mouths an ‘I’m on it’.

“Okay, tell me after getting a shower, both of you. Lend him some clothes, you can take some of mine if they don’t fit. Oh, hello, by the way, I’m Virgil’s dad” he says as he offers his hand.

Logan gladly takes it. Yes, gladly, because social acceptance and interaction are quite refreshing from his usual interpersonal awkwardness.

“Greetings as well, I’m Logan, and I’m Virgil’s…” he thinks about how to phrase it properly but Virgil simply cuts him.

“He’s my friend, dad”.

“Oh, gosh, you made a new friend! That’s great son! Well, we can talk later, go get that shower”.

“Okay. Follow me Logan”.

They both climb the main stairs and turn to the block of rooms to the left.

Logan talks about the architecture all the way. They go up the spiral staircase. He mentions that the painting of the house that hanged in front of the stairs looks like an impressionist depiction of a British manor of the sixteenth century. Virgil blinks like on a vine and asks him how does he know that.

“I have an appreciation for architecture”.

“Just as you do for poetry”.

“Indeed”.

They reach the bathroom of the second floor.

Virgil tells him that he’ll go to his room to fetch some clothing and might leave it on a chair outside or in the bedroom nextdoor.

“I’ll see you at the living-room”.

“How can I find it?”

“Go downstairs back to the hall and then to the left, it’s the room with the big ass stage”.

“That seems a little excessive”.

“Yeah, the dude who made the house was extra af”.

The police arrives and takes their statement. A middle aged woman and her young male partner question them. The partner looks kind of goofy but pays full attention, the lady, on the other side, looks like she is done with life after having seen too much shit, but she is really nice.

“Look, guys, I’m going to be honest with ya. It’s hard to tell if we may find whoever did that, because you haven’t seen their face. Without that, there isn’t that much we can do to find them. Pressing charges is hardly possible because they did not assault you nor pulled out a gun. What they did to you was bad, and I’d love to be able to help more, but I cannot tell you how this is going to turn out, it’s a tricky situation”.

“Excuse me, ma'am, but, hadn’t I arrived when I did, anything could have happened to my friend. It is most distressing to have someone chase you down and I can’t make out what their intentions would be to do such a thing if the individual didn’t plan something nasty”.

“We know it’s unfair, well make sure to catch them!” the goofy-looking guy answers this time. In his righteous enthusiasm he coughs a few times.

“Asthma too?”.

The guy looks at him awkwardly and nods.

“Can I speak to you alone, son?” the lady asks Virgil.

“Sure”.

They leave the room to the corridor of high ceilings that connects it to the library and the main dining room. The voice of his father and Ethan are coming from the library, discussing their shared worries. The talking ends as soon as they hear them.

“Why do you think that person was chasing you?”

“How could I know? Am I in trouble for something?”

“Uuuugh” she pinches the bridge of her nose “shit, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Look, if anything remotely weird has happened, that could link to that person chasing you I need to know, I want you guys to be safe. It’s never a good sign to be chased by someone on a lonely road. Tell me, it’s my understanding that you and your family have been here for a month, has anything out of the ordinary occurred? Something that could alarm you?”

“I’m the kind of person that is alarmed by mostly anything so you’ll have to be more specific”.

“I’m also that kind of person, Virgil, so I hope you understand what I tell you when I say that there’s the ordinary kind of alarming; like the fear forgetting about closing your front door, and finding that door open after you made sure to check it was closed”.

Virgil breathes in with tension. He feels watched. Not precisely by his family, which is odd. Who else would be watching? Damn, this hypervigilance thing was driving him nuts. Although, this once it made total sense, the situation had been a perfect brew for anxiety.

“Would you mind following me elsewhere?”

“Sure”.

On their way upstairs, to the tower room, Virgil adds:

“Okay, I know it seems kinda weird to make you climb all of these stairs and unnecessarily mysterious, but my room is the ‘loneliest place in the castle’ and I don’t want my family to get worried if they overhear this”.

“It’s fine, son, that’s perfectly understandable”.

They enter the room and the lady whistles in awe.

“Wow, what a room you got here, I’d wish I’ve had this when I was your age”.

“Well, you must be the only one”.

“Why is that?”.

“Everybody keeps on ranting about how this place is freaky”.

“Is it?”.

“No. This and the library are the nicest places in the house. I like being able to see so much”.

Virgil guides her to one of the windows.

“Well, with the panoramic view, it’s almost like a watch tower”. “There” Virgil points at the part of Patton’s garden that’s visible. “A few nights ago I spotted a guy talking at a phone, I think he saw me watching him, because when he looked at the tower he immediately left”.

Later, when the police has left, Logan tells him that he is trans. Why? Well, he has to stay the night because the pouring is more like a violent storm. Also, Patton might kill him if he doesn’t take off his binder, which he put back on in spite of being soaked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back dude. Here, have this, it’s one of my baggiest”.

On Virgil’s hand is a giant black zip-up hoodie.

“It’s not much of my style, and not the most elegant solution, but it will suffice. Although, it is very comfortable and the fabric texture is kind on the skin. Thank you very much. I shall take off my binder and put it on”.

“Toilet’s over there. Place the binder on the radiator so it dries”.

Virgil tends to his devices. Logan comes back with the hoodie on, comfy as ever.

“Are we having a sleepover?”

“I don’t know. Do you want us to have one?”

“I’m unsure as to if it’s appropriate given the circumstances that brought me here, as well as the fact that I have no expertise on the subject”.

“Neither do I, but it could be cool. We can have a spooky sleepover, throw some candles here and there and read Edgar Allan Poe or watch some horror films”. “I’m not convinced by the horror films, but, perhaps some Hitchcock would be a suitable replacement suggestion and we may add Bukowski to the least of authors to read”.

“Sounds fine by me. Maybe we could get Patton on Skype”.

“I’d enjoy that. On a different note, it’s getting late, we should have dinner”.

“Uh, sorry, right, you probably didn’t have time at Patton’s”.

“Not to worry, though, I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have caught you in time”.

“Ain’t that the truth”.

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kiminicricket · 5 years ago

Text

Swords and Opals - 15

A Ruthari fic based pre-show. adventure. friendship. bad-assery. fluff. angst. romance. and of course, Ruthari. What else could you need?

Need to catch up? From the Start Previous Chapter

Pre-warning for a little bit of Language and a little bit of kissy kissy

The shadowed figure in the doorway stalked towards him, Ethari took a step backwards, the back of his legs hitting his workbench. He was trapped. He glanced around, but the only doors in and out of the workshop were behind the figure. He took a deep breath, readying himself to scream or yell or cause a ruckus but stopped dead still when the figure’s face came into view from the dim glow from the forge. It was Runaan and he had a most determined look on his face. Ethari faltered in his movements, but Runaan kept moving until he was right in front of him, that piercing gaze holding Ethari captive.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, almost growled.

“Mean what?” Ethari asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Runaan’s hand came up to cup Ethari’s cheek, fingers gently tracing along his tattoos.

“Is there more where that came from? I made it back.” His eyebrow raised, almost cockily as he smiled at Ethari.

Ethari could barely hold a coherent thought let alone speak right now, with Runaan’s fingertips tracing his skin so gently. He just nodded and closed his eyes as Runaan surged forward and kissed him hungrily. It was everything Ethari had hoped for and his arms came up to grasp Runaan tighter as he returned the kiss, grasping fistfuls of tunic, never wanting to let him go again.

Runaan seemed to mirror the sentiment as his other hand came up until he was cradling Ethari’s face in his hands, thumbs gently tracing along his cheekbones, fingers tangling at the edges of his hair. One hand moved to cup the back of his head, the other wrapped around him, drawing him impossibly closer, fingertips grazing just under Ethari’s top and leaving trails of burning sensations anywhere skin met skin. Ethari was lost in Runaan. He never wanted to return to reality, wanting to live forever drinking from Runaan’s lips, breathing in his presence.

A single lingering concern broke through the haze and Ethari pulled back, gasping for air. Runaan’s lips simply moved from his own to his chin, his jaw, his neck. Ethari’s hand went to the back of Runaan’s head, cradling it as he struggled for a moment of rational thought.

“The others?” He managed to breath out.

“Safe and sound.” Runaan said into his neck. He kissed Ethari again and Ethari melted against him, all thought leaving him except the elf kissing him.

***

“I’ll have you know that your little stunt drove me crazy.” Runaan said hours later as they lay comfortably together.

“Crazy good I hope.” Ethari said, playing with a strand of Runaan’s hair.

Runaan leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Crazy crazy. I was hopeless on this mission. The team leader was so disappointed in me. All this buildup and I didn’t even kill anyone.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope, too distracted by a certain elf.” Runaan gently tapped Ethari’s nose. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Ethari was quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. He absently traced the tattoos on Runaan’s shoulder until Runaan leaned up on one elbow.

“You went quiet.” He remarked.

“I guess I just don’t understand. I’m not complaining, at all, I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t even know if I can articulate it.” Runaan said.

Ethari nodded, staring up at the roof. He didn’t expect there to be a reason. Sometimes feelings were funny that way. It was enough that they had made it to this point. There was a moment of contented silence before Runaan spoke again.

“You saw me at my lowest, and you were kind, and dependable, and incredibly smart, and funny, and hot as hell.” Runaan leaned down and planted a kiss on Ethari’s shoulder.

Ethari turned shining eyes on Runaan. “I… don’t even know what to say.” He whispered.

“What about you?” Runaan asked.

“What about me?”

“What was… how… did you,” Ethari smiled as Runaan stumbled over his words. Seeing the smile Runaan huffed indignantly, motioning for Ethari to speak.

“I never thought someone like you would even notice me.” Ethari admitted, reaching out to cup Runaan’s face.

“Someone like me?” Runaan nuzzled into the touch.

“Talented, popular, smart, handsome, top on every elf’s wish list.”

Runaan let out a self-conscious chuckle, reaching up to take Ethari’s hand in his own.

“For a long time you didn’t I suppose.”

Runaan looked distressed. He opened his mouth as though to protest but Ethari kept talking.

“It’s fine, I’ve always kind of hung back, not wanted to be the centre of attention. I definitely noticed you, had a crush on you for the longest time, before I even knew you properly.” Ethari paused. “And then when I did, I guess I just saw through the mask. That’s when it really hit me I think.”

“The mask?” Runaan frowned.

“The ‘everything’s ok and I’ve got things figured out’ mask.”

The frown deepened. “You fell for me because I’m actually a disaster?” He clarified.

Ethari laughed. “I mean when you put it that way…”

Runaan leaned over him and smiled. “I think you should stop talking now.”

Ethari smiled back. “I think you should make me.”

Runaan didn’t bother replying and Ethari closed his eyes as Runaan’s lips met his once more.

***

Tiadrin and Lain were waiting for Runaan by the training fields. Lain sitting on a huge tree root with Tiadrin tucked between his legs. He was bent over her shoulder.

“See if you curl your fingers like this,” Lain’s hand curled Tiadrin’s fingers, and then straightened her thumb. “And then I do one too, and then we join them together like this,” he touched their fingertips together. “It makes a heart. See?”

“Uuuugh” Tiadrin let out a long groan, her head falling back against his chest. “You are such a hopeless fucking dork. I love you.”

Lain stiffened behind her, quickly turning her to face him. “You what?” He asked, searching her eyes.

Tiadrin blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but now that she had, she wasn’t taking it back. She met Lain’s gaze, sure and steady. She shrugged.

“You heard me.” She said with a shy smile. Lain slid off the root and drew her closer.

“I’d like to hear it again,” He whispered, lips hovering over hers.

“I love you, you dork.” Tiadrin said, closing her eyes.

“I love you too.” His lips descended on hers, arms wrapping her in a tight embrace.

“Ahem.”

Runaan’s voice drew them apart and Lain shot him a dirty look over his shoulder as he released Tiadrin.

“Oh you finally ready for training,” he groused.

“Sorry, I uh- overslept.” Runaan shrugged.

“Oh. My. God!” A huge grin split Tiadrin’s face as she took in Runaan’s appearance. Very well put together but wearing the same tunic as the day before. And were his lips a bit pinker than usual?

Runaan frowned at her. “What?”

Tiadrin just smiled smugly. “Shall we go then?” She asked innocently.

“By all means,” Runaan indicated for her to lead the way.

They spent the morning running drills and exercises, sinking into the practiced familiarity of the movements. Movements that carried extra weight after their last assignment. Still they practiced until they could do the movements in their sleep. Until defence was second nature, and attacking quick as an asp was first. A few hours into the sparring Tiadrin whispered to Runaan.

“Someone’s got a visitor,” she winked and glanced towards the end of the field, where Ethari was watching them. “He’s not here to see me.” She said, grinning.

Runaan rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile as he quickly and confidently took her down until she yielded. “Who knew having your boyfriend here would be so… motivating.” She grumbled, pushing his sword away from her.

Runaan said nothing, just swung again with the practice swords. She parried easily.

“What’s that? No denial?”

“Why would I deny it?”

Tiadrin’s shriek paused all training as every eye on the field turned towards her. She had flung her arms around Runaan, who had turned the colour of a moonberry and was awkwardly hugging her back.

Lain rushed over. “Is everything ok?” He asked, worriedly.

“Yes. fine.” Runaan said. Tiadrin dropped and turned to Lain, a brilliant smile on her face.

“Runaan has some most excellent news. ETHARI!” She turned and waved him over. Ethari cautiously made his way to them. Tiadrin, finally noting that she had drawn a crowd waved the onlookers away.

“As you were folks, nothing to see here.” Several raised eyebrows, smirks, and even chuckles were heard as the assassins returned to their sparring. Ethari reached them in short order.

“Nice of you to come watch us practice,” Tiadrin said meaningfully.

“Ha, yeah I hadn’t been in a while and I-”

“She knows we’re together,” Runaan said, interrupting him and taking his hand. Tiadrin couldn’t help an excited squeal as they interlocked their fingers. Ethari blushed and smiled, his whole face glowing with happiness.

“Finally!” Lain said, reaching out to hug them both.

Tiadrin hugged Ethari fiercely and reached out to punch Runaan in the shoulder.

“If you hurt him I will hunt you down and murder you in your sleep.”

“Tiadrin,” Ethari said, a warning tone in his voice. He had no doubts that she would, but didn’t really want that kind of tension in their group.

“No no, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Runaan nodded to Tiadrin.

“It’s about bloody time.” She said. Runaan just raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that? How long have you known?” Runaan shot an accusatory look at Lain.

“She’s talking about me,” Ethari said, tugging on his hand and pulling Runaan’s glare away from Lain. Runaan softened.

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean, I was talking about both of you,” Tiadrin said, drawing Runaan’s attention once more. She shrugged off the cautioning hand Lain put on her shoulder. “It’s difficult to tell, but once you get to know that Runaan’s ‘I’m into him’ face is only very slightly different to his ‘I hate this’ face and figure out the difference, it was clear as day.”

Runaan turned red and scratched the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable with Tiadrin’s discerning eye.

“Well, we should give you two a minute. Not too long though Runaan or you’ll be running laps. You know how Usten gets.” With that Tiadrin and Lain walked away. They hadn’t gone too far before Tiadrin turned around and made an obscene gesture, throwing them an exaggerated wink before turning back and returning to sparring. Runaan and Ethari were left at the end of the training field. Runaan turned to face Ethari, shrugging helplessly.

“I know she means a lot to you, but if a terrible accident were to happen and she somehow lost the ability to-”

Ethari grinned and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, stopping Runaan mid-sentence. He wasn’t worried about Runaan and Tiadrin fighting, because he knew that Runaan respected and valued Tiadrin, and also because even if things did get a little heated, Tiadrin was more than capable of handling herself. It was, however interesting and somewhat satisfying to see the calming effect a simple kiss had on Runaan. Ethari squeezed his hand gently before letting go.

“I should let you get back to it.” He said softly.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Runaan asked.

“Count on it.” Ethari said, smiling as Runaan leant in to give him a soft kiss. Then another. Then another.

Laughing, Ethari finally pushed him away. “Off with you and train.” He said. Runaan kissed him one more time and then jogged back onto the training field. Ethari settled on the edge of the field and pulled out his sketchbook. It was a glorious day after all, it would be a shame to waste it by staying inside.

AN: Thanks to all for taking this crazy ride with me! I’m about to start uni again for the semester so I’m going to have to leave this one here for now. I do have some more plot ideas but have no idea when I’ll be able to post, so I’m officially calling Hiatus for now. Definitely let me know if you want more though. Thanks to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and commented and encouraged this fic! Y’all turned it into what it is today.

Much Love xx

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vivithefolle · 5 years ago

Note

I LOVED the new chapter of Men’s Sana!!! I can’t believe Ron pictures himself like that, like what?? And the Harry’s adoption part. Uh, it’s got the perfect combination of angst and humor. I especially like the bits of exaggeration Ron’s made. Thank you for posting, I was in need of some new content, I mean one can only reread their favorite fanfics so many times. Keep up the amazing work, and I was wondering if you are going to be posting regularly or not? But yeah, AMAZING CHAPTER❤️❤️

Aaaah thank youuuuu ♥

I can’t believe Ron pictures himself like that, like what??

Ah, ah, let me clarify - because like any person who writes I love talking at length about what I do, it’s an attention whore thing -

Ron doesn’t see himself as a freckle-less, auburn-haired kid.

Rather, Ron wishes he could be a freckle-less, auburn-haired kid.

His hair is a muted shade of auburn, so far from the proud ginger flame that makes him so noticeable. He is oddly pale, and it takes her a moment to realize he’s missing his freckles. His long, thin nose is shorter, his ears are smaller, and it somehow makes him look so… different.

He’s not better-looking, nor is he ugly, he isn’t, no, he’s just… different.

Different, as in… not Ron.

There’s just something missing from him, and it’s not his freckles or long nose or firey hair, he’s missing… something, she wouldn’t know how to name it...

This is how Ron wished he looked like. In a lot of Romione fanfiction you see Hermione being insecure about her body, going “oh but I’m not big-chested like Rosmerta and Lavender” and Ron telling her how much prettier she is compared to them. It’s nice, it’s nice, but... we seldom see the other side of the coin.

Because boys can and do feel insecure about their looks and not in the “I wish I had more muscle” cliché way either, and you know how effing self-conscious Ron is and just how he nitpicks at all his perceived inadequacies until he’s convinced himself he’s the worst person on Earth? Yeah I just know he’s the same way about his physique too.

So he corrected all the little things he hated about himself. He removed some of the biggest tells that he’s a Weasley - because he doesn’t want to be another Weasley, so the less he looks like one, the better. As for the ears and the nose, they’re classic body parts to be dissatisfied with - I myself have rather protruding ears, which I can luckily cover with my hair, and I kept thinking my nose was too big when I was like, 14 or 15 - in spite of being a total Hermione and thinking that appearance didn’t matter!

And the Harry’s adoption part. Uh, it’s got the perfect combination of angst and humor.

Aww thanks! <3 This scene flowed super easily. I spent eons stuck at Slughorn’s party’s introduction, not knowing exactly how to write Slughorn and Ron’s face-off, then I remembered that @windschildfanfictionwriter‘s suggestion to include something Harry-related in-between all the Hermione stuff, and the final scene of the chapter practically wrote itself.

Thank you for posting, I was in need of some new content, I mean one can only reread their favorite fanfics so many times.

I KNOW RIGHT?? Uuuugh I CRAVE some new fics, or some updates to old fics that are probably never going to be updated again, but the problem is that I am a very demanding bitch that requires her characterization to be a very specific way, and in short it would be easier if I wrote the fics myself instead of waiting for someone to write them for me. BUT I DON’T WANNA READ MY OWN FIC I WANNA READ SOMETHING SOMEONE ELSE MADE THAT SPECIFICALLY CATERS TO MY VERY SPECIFIC TASTES IS THAT SO MUCH TO AAAAASK

*cough*

I was wondering if you are going to be posting regularly or not?

.................. considering that the next chapter after this one is a big fat blank, I’m going to tell you... It’s gonna. Take. A while.

I have tons of half-finished WIPs floating about in my Google Drive, missing whole scenes and entire chunks of story, because when I have a story idea, I usually have a specific scene in mind. I picture this one scene with perfect clarity, like I’m making a movie out of it, and from this one specific scene and a few themes I want to explore, I come up with an entire story.

Mens Sana sprouted from two scenes: the one at the beginning of Chapter 4: Wildfire, with Harry trapped in brambles and a raging inferno blazing its way to him, and the upcoming scene where Harry and Hermione finally find Ron... and find out all’s not well, to say the least.

I piece together the story as I go. It took me so long to write this chapter because I had no idea how to go from Point A to Point B in a way that made sense, in a way that felt natural, and still keep enough action for it to not look like “Harry and Hermione look at a slideshow of Ron’s life and feel bad”.

To tell you the truth, I have the very, very last scene of the fanfic written out. I have the two big emotional, climax-y chapters ready but I think Harry and Hermione are too passive in them and I have to make some edits. I’m going to end up with a few deleted scenes, and they’re definitely going to be put into some sort of “bonus” chapter. Just so people can see how much I like to torture my favourite character.

Thank you so much for the kind words, they are greatly appreciated and I’ll do my best to write more <3

#ask #vivi answers #harry potter #hp fanfic #my fanfic #vivi's stuff #wow that got rambly fast #ron weasley #fanfiction #writing

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need-a-fugue · 4 years ago

Text

We Grow Together (6)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

Warning(s): some angst, some emotional and mental turmoil… some bad language words… much fluff

Chapter Summary: A successful mission means... revels!

“You’re lucky Helen was here,” she snaps at Tony as he enters the med room. He hands a green drink to Clint, who’s still lying back on the table as the portable regeneration device heals his torso.

“I’m lucky?” he says, grinning at her.

She turns on a heel and stares him down, thrusts a pointed finger in his face. “I told you when you first assigned me here, I am not a clinician.”

“You’re doing great,” Clint tells her, the pain meds making his voice just a little lighter and a little more enthusiastic than normal.

She gives him an incredulous look. “If Dr. Cho hadn’t been here to demo this… this… thing,” she says, waving her arms to indicate the contraption in the center of the room, “you’d be dead.”

“Was that a threat?” Tony asks, clearly amused by her anger.

“I’d have been fine,” Clint says as he sucks down his juice. “You’d have saved me just like you did before.”

She closes her eyes and tries for a deep, cleansing breath, which is surprisingly easy to do now that her nose is completely healed – thank you Helen for demonstrating the device’s effectiveness on me. “You would have needed surgery. I am not a surgeon.”

“You dug that bullet outta me just fine,” he says, referring to their adventures in Minsk a few years earlier.

“I dumped some vodka on your arm and dug around with my fingers until you passed out from the pain.”

“But eventually, you got the bullet out and I was saved.”

“There,” Tony chimes in. “See? You’re a hero. The greatest doctor we could ask for.” Dr. Cho enters the room and quietly slides over to Clint to check her machine’s progress. “And now that we have this fancy-shamncy… thing, you don’t have to worry about doing surgery. Or not doing surgery.”

“This is still a prototype,” Helen tells him softly. “We know that cellular regeneration is possible with the cradle, but how much… how far this technology can go, we don’t know the answers to that yet.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now that we’re working with U-Gin and we’ve got two of the greatest minds on this,” he says, waving his hand to indicate both Helen and Tessa, “it’s only a matter of time before we revolutionize the medical field.”

“It scares me when you get like this,” Tessa mumbles.

“We’ll have one in every trauma center by 2020.”

Helen raises a single brow as she continues to evaluate Clint’s vitals. “That’s ambitious.”

Tony’s face splits into a wide grin. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Clint asks, his face wrinkled in confusion. “I always thought it was Gary.”

“What?” Tony turns on him as Tessa snorts out a laugh. “Edward. Why would you think it’s Gary.”

He shrugs as best he can in his current position. “You look like a Gary.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Tessa asks with furrowed brow. “You’re middle name is Edward? How boring.”

Clint slurps down the rest of his drink. “Gary would have been better,” he mutters absently.

“Right,” Tony starts, thrusting himself upright. “I hate all of you. Also, we’re setting up for a party tomorrow.” He turns to leave, calling out as he goes, “You all will be there.”

000

Tony’s parties were, simply put, the best. Even the business affairs – the parties that required mingling with rich old men and straddling the line between bragging about scientific breakthroughs and giving away detailed research data – were designed to be fun. The drinks were always plentiful, the food exceptional, the decorations impeccable, and the guests companionable. There were many things that Tony Stark was great at, but in Tessa’s estimation, throwing together last-minute celebrations was his greatest strength.

“Really?” Bucky sits idly on her bed as she explains this to him, her back turned as she rifles through her closet.

“Yes, really.” She reaches in the back and pulls out a deep burgundy cocktail dress with thick straps and a triangular cutout in the back. “You’ll have fun. I promise,” she tells him, spinning herself around and holding the dress up for him to see.

He raises his eyebrows appraisingly, but seems less than impressed. Or convinced. She moans and thrusts the dress back into the closet. “I just don’t like being around a lot of people,” he tells her shyly.

“It’s not people,” she explains. “It’s me. And Steve. And –”

“Everyone else, plus some.”

“I don’t want to sound like an asshole here…” She turns to face him, two more garments now draped over her arm. “But, get over it.”

“Get over it?”

“Yes. Get over it.” She flings the dresses onto the bed next to him and he has dodge the wooden hangers as they narrowly miss his face. She marches over, rather dramatically, and stands in front of him with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to go to Mexico. But I did. I didn’t want to take a day trip to Coney Island in the middle of January. But I did. I didn’t want to do that thing last week. But I did.”

He reaches up and slips his fingers beneath hers on either hip. “I thought you liked that thing,” he says with a mischievous grin.

She rolls her eyes and, bringing her hands to his shoulders, gives him a rough, playful shake. “That isn’t the point!”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, laughing as he pulls her to him. He wraps his arms around her middle and rests the side of his face against her ribs. “I’ll go,” he mumbles into her shirt.

Her hands are still resting on his shoulders when she says simply, “Thank you.” She tries to push him away then, but he doesn’t let go, too content in holding her close and listening to the steady beat of her heart. “James,” she tries, when he refuses to loosen his grip. She digs her thumbs into his shoulders and tries again to push him away, wiggling her hips as she moves. “Jamie,” she whines, smile perking the corners of her lips.

“No,” he says, petulant quality to his voice.

“Uuuugh,” she sighs, dropping her hands and stopping her struggle. Then, with a chuckle, “You’re impossible.”

He tightens his grip for just a moment more before twisting his face so that he’s looking up at her. “If I don’t have fun, I’m bringing you right back here. And we’re doing that thing again.”

She presents her right hand to him, ready for a handshake. “Deal.” He drops his arms from her middle, shakes her hand firmly, and lets her escape back to the closet. “Now go ask Steve if you can borrow something pretty to wear.”

By the time Steve finally convinces him to wear the red button down instead of an old – and torn – sweater, and they make it upstairs, the revels are in full swing. He sees her immediately, but doesn’t chase her down just yet. Instead he takes the beer Steve offers and half-heartedly listens to the rest of his friend’s story as he watches her from afar.

She’s talking and laughing with Natasha and Bruce, though Bruce doesn’t look like he’s having much fun. The man is bright red and ducking his face in obvious embarrassment as Tessa gets more animated. Whatever story she’s telling the pair is greatly amusing the Widow. Not so much the doctor.

Bucky leans against the wall, continuing to gaze across the room. Tessa’s wearing a tight black pencil dress that traces the lines of her body – from her knees up to the gentle cure of her hips, up alongside her ribcage. From his vantage point, he can see the shimmer of the gold zipper that runs from the base of her back to the base of her neck. And he’s desperate to yank it down and peel the fabric back.

“Buck?” he hears Steve say. Swiveling back to his friend, he raises a questioning eyebrow. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head and taking a long pull from his beer.

Sam snickers next to them. “At least he’s honest.”

“I was telling you about the mission,” Steve complains.

“Yeah, but we weren’t there, so we don’t care,” Sam responds.

Bucky gives him a tired look – “I didn’t say that” – then turns to Steve. “He doesn’t speak for me.”

“Okay, well –” he says, trying to continue with his story.

“Actually, now I am saying it,” he tells him, raising a single, silencing hand. “I don’t care.” He pats his forlorn friend on the shoulder and makes a beeline for his girl.

He tries to skirt past Stark and Thor as he approaches the bar, but Maria Hill stops him before he can reach the other side where Tessa’s standing. “Sargent,” she nearly exclaims. “You’re actually at a party. And all cleaned up.”

She sounds impressed, but Stark is less than enthused when he mumbles something akin to, “That’s cleaned up?”

“I was just telling them a War Machine story,” Rhodes chimes in, obviously eager to try the tale out on someone new.

“Where’s Tessa?” Maria interrupts before he can get started.

Bucky’s about to point across the bar at her and then politely excuse himself, but – “Yeah, and Pepper,” Rhodes says, “She’s a no show?”

“And Jane? Where are the ladies, gentlemen?”

Stark and Thor make excuses for the absences, bragging openly about their better halves, while Bucky attempts to back up and move around the group unseen. But there are too damn many people at this party and he’s penned in. As he turns to the other side in search of an escape route he hears Hill cough out what sounds like “Testosterone.” When he looks back, she and Rhodes are eyeballing an opening in the crowd, hoping to sneak off as well.

“But Jane’s better,” Thor leans in and tells Tony.

Which prompts Maria to turn to him. “What about you, Sarge? You want in on this?”

He gives her a quick look, then turns his gaze to Tessa, who appears to be moving off into the crowd. “Sure.” He clears his throat, finishes his beer, and sets the empty bottle on the bar. “My girl’s a brilliant geneticist and the lead physician for Earth’s mightiest heroes. She’s beautiful and talented, smart and funny. And she can deflect bullets.”

“Wait, what?” Rhodes chokes out as Bucky finally finds an opening and steps out into it.

“And she’s actually here,” he tosses over his shoulder. “So I win.”

Thor grins as he walks off. “I like him,” he says with a small chuckle. “He’s spirited.”

“Like a horse you need to break,” Tony mumbles.

He dodges through the crown, issuing mumbled apologies to those he bumps as he goes. “Tess,” he says, reaching for her arm as she’s about to head downstairs. “Hey.”

She turns to face him, nearly tumbling backwards down the steps when someone accidently nudges her as she spins. He wraps his fingers tightly around her upper arm to steady her, and almost immediately winces, realizing he’s grabbed her too tight. He tugs her to him and drops his hand, watches as she brings her fingers up to absently rub the red marks he’s left. “I was wondering when you’d get here,” she says with a smile.

“Sorry.” He mumbles the word as he leads her off to a corner, then he gingerly touches her arm to inspect the blossoming bruises. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re really fucking late.” She glances down to her arm, then up at his worried face. “Oh… about keeping me from falling down the stairs?” She lets out a snort of a laugh. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” And she brushes his fingers away.

He takes in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m late too.”

She’s still all smiles when he looks up at her and it makes his heart catch a bit in his chest. “I was talking to Helen earlier,” she starts, eagerly. “You would not believe the kinds of things they’re doing at U-Gen. She invited me out to tour the facilities and spend a few days getting to know the staff and actually work in her lab.” Her eyes light up like a toddler at Christmas and her voice rises in pitch as she continues. “I mean, I thought Tony was just looking into a new investment idea, like he always does. But this is… Well, look at my nose!” She pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and works it around. “Doesn’t hurt at all! And no scarring!”

“Yeah,” he says with amusement. “I can see that.” He’s glad she’s excited, but the level of excitement seems a little crazed, especially considering that they’ve already spent most of the last two days talking about Dr. Cho’s research and advances.

“And Clint. Did you see Clint?!” She twists around to try and find the archer in the crowd. Her balance is shot almost immediately, and she throws a steadying hand out to his chest.

He catches it and laughs as he steadies her. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Psht, like two glasses of wine,” she tells him, turning back to face him. “Or three. With Nat while we got ready.” She furrows her brow. “Maybe four. I don’t know.”

He looks down at the drink in her hand. “And once you got here?”

“A few of these,” she says, bringing the martini glass to her mouth. “Just a few.”

“Just a few,” he repeats, shaking his head.

“Ah ha!” Tony calls out as he saunters over to the couple. “Found your girl, I see.” He turns to Bucky and in a low tone says, “She’s been blitzed for about an hour. Had to cut her off.” Looking at back at Tessa and at the drink in her hand, he asks, “How’d you get that?”

“Natasha,” she says, hint of challenge to her voice.

He hums in disapproval. “Well, guess that’s what you get for being late to the party.” He drops his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, causing the smile to completely disappear from the soldier’s face. “She’s gonna start puking in, oh, about 30 minutes.”

They turn their faces to Tessa in unison, watch as she downs the rest of her drink. “Probably,” she mutters.

Tony smiles, wide and wily. “Still think you win?”

It’s more like fifteen minutes before she barrels into the hall bath and blows chow all over the sink. Bucky flinches at the scene, but steps forward and holds her hair back all the same. At least he got her back to her apartment. When she finishes, he lets her hair down and she leans against the wall and slowly slides to the floor. “That was disgusting,” he tells her as he turns on the water and starts to clean the sink.

“Sorry,” she mumbles softly.

He raises the lid and the seat on the toilet and points at it. “Aim there,” he tells her before heading into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

He hands her the bottle when he returns but she refuses it. “Boot and rally,” she tells him tiredly. “I learned that in college.”

“Out of curiosity, is this the fun that you promised me tonight?”

She lets out a pained laugh. “You were late. If you’d been there sooner, you would’ve had fun.”

“I can’t get drunk, doll,” he tells her, taking a seat on the cold tile across from her. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Shame,” she intones, slipping off a single high heel and slowly moving her foot into his lap. She traces the inseam of his pants with her toe. “You wore real pants,” she observes. “Not just jeans.”

“You told me to put on something pretty.”

“Ha!” She throws her head back to laugh, banging it on the wall.

“Baby,” he sniggers, moving over to her side and cupping the back of her head. “You’re a danger to yourself.”

She looks up at him, eyes red rimmed and glassy. Her face is flushed and the goofy smile she’s wearing makes it’s hard for him to suppress the laughter that he’s trying to stave off. “I like you,” she says dreamily.

“I like you too. Even if you smell like vomit.”

She purses her lips and takes on a more serious countenance. “I’m going to throw up one more time,” she tells him. “But then I’ll be good. And I’ll let you do that thing.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” he says. “But I think you should go to bed.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she teases.

“No,” he says with a laugh. “You throw up again if you need to. Drink this water. And then I’m putting you to bed. To sleep.”

She looks at him very seriously for a long moment before bringing her hand to his face, gently stroking his stubble-covered jaw. She tucks a few errant strands of dark hair back behind his ear and gives him a small, tender smile. Then she launches herself at the toilet and violently empties her stomach.

It may not seem like the best end to an evening, but they’re the only people in the building who spend that night in bed, sleeping peacefully while the building shakes and shatters around them.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfic #marvelau #bucky imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengersau #Supernova

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tcdarkeststorms · 5 years ago

Text

Story #1: “I got your back.”

I’m gonna be sick…

His breathing was ragged, sinking in on himself more as he looked about the room he was in. Medical equipment all over, some of it trailing back to him. He glared at the clip on his finger, half tempted to flick it across the room.

Anything was better than being stuck here.

Deep breaths, Cade. You can do this. You just gotta fake it till you make it. Make it clear you’re fine and then get the heck outta dodge!

Being brought to the ER was not what he wanted out of his weekend. That much was for certain. But an extremely high fever and being up all night with a stomachache didn’t help either.

He wasn’t sure where his mother was at the moment. She went to go talk to someone and that was it as far as he was concerned. He… had been pretty checked out when the nurse checking him in looked him over.

That twinge in his side got his attention as he rolled into it, curling up in a ball.

Just please, please let me go home-

“Excuse me?” A familiar voice caught his attention, looking up at the curtains drawn around this particular section of the ER bay.

… Crap and a half you have to be kidding me right now. Of all days…

Before Cade could respond the curtain parted, allowing him to see who was dropping in on him.

The doctor’s eyes widened before he turned his head, glaring at someone Cade couldn't make out.

“Some heads up would’ve been nice y’know!” He called out before shaking his head. “Tch.” He turned to Cade, crossing his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Markus…” Cade grimaced, sitting up a little. “You didn’t say you were working today…”

Markus’ gaze faded into concern at how pale the kid was. Normally he was almost perpetually tanned from how much time he spent in the sun but his skin was pale and sickly appearing.

“We’ll catch up after I examine you. Mom?”

“Mom. Swear, she’s freaking out for no reason. I feel great.” He insisted.

Markus shook his head, grabbing his stethoscope from his pocket.

“Mm-hm. We’ll see about that.”

Cade grumbled a little, falling quiet as Markus started to examine him. It took a few minutes, as he made notes on his datapad.

“Temperature of one hundred and two…” He stepped back, his gaze narrowing, a hand resting on his chin. “Anything you wanna fill me in on the last few days? Because this chart the nurse was so kind to put together for me says you’ve been having stomach pain and nausea.”

Crap and a half…

The teenager chose not to respond to that, instead pulling out his phone. It was a bratty move and he knew it.

Markus sighed, making his way over.

“Let me check your stomach just real fast. I only listened.”

“You’re being as overprotective as Levi is y’know.”

“That’s called tough love, Bro.”

Markus pressed onto various areas of the boy’s abdomen… until he got to his right side.

Cade let out a sharp gasp, covering his mouth with both hands, trying not to make much noise.

“W-Whoa…” He moved them away immediately, helping him lie back. “Hey, easy there… Scale of one to ten?”

“Eight… I guess…”

Markus frowned, stroking his hair, guilt bubbling up. He was trying to keep it compartmentalized. The doctor away from the older brother…

But this hurt him too. Even if it was to diagnose him he didn’t want to cause his brother pain.

Sure, he could be a pain when he visited home. (Especially with that trumpet…) But he never wished ill on the kid. Never.

“We’re gonna transfer you upstairs. See if we can slow this down with antibiotics first.”

“What do you think I have?” Cade asked, his voice going quiet as the realization of his situation was settling in.

THIS was his worst case scenario coming to life in front of him.

Markus took a deep breath.

“Appendicitis.”

He was rushed right through from there. Before he knew it, he was in a quiet room in the pediatric ward, overlooking the fountain outside of Concordia.

It would’ve been a nice view and maybe relaxed him… if it wasn’t for all the talk he kept hearing.

“I’ll come by in about a half hour with some stronger antibiotics. I promise, I’m gonna be in charge of his care, Mom. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Markus, you are an angel.Thank you so much. Though… What do you think the odds are of the antibiotics working?”

“If they don’t slow down the inflammation, I’ll perform an appendectomy. I just need your consent, in case his condition changes overnight.”

Surgery, blood, needles… uuuugh….

oooooo

Markus sighed in relief, the second he made it back to the ward, hurrying for Cade’s room, antibiotic drip in hand. He wasn’t sure what to make of how Cade was reacting to all of this… or the attitude he was giving him downstairs.

Maybe it could be blamed on being sick but this wasn’t his first time not feeling well either.

Is… he mad at me?

Nah… Cade’s just barely 13. He’s not like that. He’s just grouchy cause he’s in pain. This’ll help though.

He knocked briskly on the doorway before heading in.

“Hey, Little Bro, you still up?”

Cade was out of bed, sitting on the windowsill, looking down at the fountain. He looked to the reflection of Markus in the window and scrunched his nose up.

Markus took a deep breath, going over to him, touching his shoulder gently.

“Cade? I need you to get back in bed for a few. I got your medicine.”

Cade’s eyes trailed to the drip, his eyes widening, a sharp gasp escaping.

“NO!” He yelped.

“Hey, hey, easy…” Markus squeezed his shoulder. “It’s just an IV drip. This is routine.”

He didn’t respond, looking out the window, bringing his knees to his chest.

Markus was taken aback by this. Cade had NEVER reacted like that before.

This isn’t even the first time I treated him for something. Sure, taking a few days off to make sure his flu didn’t get too bad isn’t the same but… he knows me.

“Cade?” He set the equipment on the night table, kneeling to his level. “Cade, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re gonna call me a baby or think I’m being stupid. Or you’ll just do it anyway.”

… So that’s what’s on his mind.

It was matching up to some of the other kids he treated. It wasn’t his first time having pediatric patients lash out at the idea of getting a needle of some kind or being afraid of being hospitalized.

Markus kicked himself for not realizing this sooner.

“You’re afraid of needles.”

It wasn’t a question.

Cade nodded silently, not looking at him.

“Then all that denial downstairs… You’re afraid of needing injections and IVs if you need surgery after all, isn’t it?”

“... Yeah… and bleeding a lot too…”

Markus let out a long sigh, extending his arm to him.

“C’mere…”

Cade hesitated before he brought his arms around Markus, huddling close, hissing a little when he did so. Markus brought his arms around him, stroking his back.

“Shh…”

“I know it’s irrational. I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid. You think I like giving shots?”

“... No…”

Markus shook his head, bringing him to arm’s length, his eyes full of concern.

“I’m not doing any of this because I think it’s fun, or because I think I’m being sneaky for all the trumpet related antics over the years. I’m doing it because as a doctor first, I need to treat any patient that comes my way.”

Cade looked away, keeping quiet.

Markus tilted his chin in his direction so their eyes met, his gaze softening.

“You’re still my brother. I don’t want you to hide ANYTHING from me. That scares me if you think you can’t talk to me about this stuff.”

“... Does it hurt?” He asked quietly, his voice shaky.

“Not at all. I have to disinfect the area with gel and antibiotic gel has an anesthetic in it.” He smiled a little. “I’ve given a lot of IVs to kids who hate needles and not a single complaint. I won’t miss the vein or anything.”

“What about shots?”

“There’s a lot of numbing creams and I can still use the gel too. If I have to operate, I’ll make it clear on your chart that you have an issue with needles as a whole so they’ll HAVE to take special precautions.” Markus stroked his hair, ruffling it up a little, earning a small chuckle in return. “I can do everything in my power to make it as painless as I can.”

Cade took a deep breath, bringing his arms back around his brother, his knees buckling a bit.

Markus held him tightly, lifting him up and onto his bed.

“I just need you to trust me.”

Cade went quiet before hesitantly offering his arm.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Markus went right to work from there, keeping his brother distracted the whole time. The boy didn’t even notice when the needle slipped in once he got started.

“And… there we are. Nice and secure.” He sat on the edge of his bed. “How’d I do?”

Cade felt the area where it lead into, genuinely surprised.

“It… didn’t hurt.”

“See?”

He smiled, yawning a little.

Markus pushed on Cade’s shoulder, laying him down.

“I think it’s time you went to bed kiddo.”

“Stay till I fall asleep?”

“What kind of big brother would I be if I left you all alone?”

“Levi.”

Markus snorted, making a mental note to torment their middle brother later with that anecdote.

Goofy kid…

oooooo

In the end, the antibiotics didn’t work as intended. Markus still needed to perform the operation.

Though, as promised, he made arrangements so Cade, as far as he knew, wouldn’t even remember half of the process aside from the initial prep.

“Is he normally like that?” Valerie asked, looking up from scrubbing in, into the OR.

Cade was laid out on the table, a dazed expression on his face, ignoring everything around him.

“I had the nurse give him a mild sedative to start off. That way we can avoid any anxiety issues.” Markus replied, as he finished. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They stepped up to the table.

“You doing okay there?” He asked. “Anything off?”

Cade looked up, grinning tiredly.

“Feel pretty good actually. Not loopy either…” He sighed in relief. “Thanks big brother.”

Markus smiled softly under the mask.

“Anything for you.” He looked to Valerie giving a nod.

She nodded, coming up to the other side of the table, administering the anesthesia.

“Wait… She’s not Nigel…” He mumbled, before he drifted off.

“... Excuse me?”

“Nothing! Scalpel?”

Note to self: Octodad and sedatives DO NOT MIX.

oooooo

Cade bounced back pretty fast after the procedure. He was still hospitalized until his scar healed over more but he was more like himself then he had been in awhile.

“Oh, come on!”

“Absolutely NOT!”

Valerie raised an eyebrow, poking her head in. Markus and Cade were glaring each other down, the kid having his hands firmly around an instrument case.

“Give it to me. Right now.”

“Heck no! I gotta practice!”

“In the ward!? Forget it!”

“You were cool when you were being all “I’m your big brother, it’s my job to take care of you.” Well you ain’t doing a good job of it now!”

Markus groaned in frustration, rubbing his temple.

“Fine. But if you so much as let out one note, I’m taking it and giving it to Levi to hold onto.”

Cade gulped.

“Duly noted.”

Markus looked over to Valerie, hurrying over.

“Everything okay?” She asked.

“Ooooh just peachy.” Markus mumbled. “Just realizing I’m putting a ban on trumpets if I ever have kids.”

“Hah. How bad could he be? He’s a lot livelier than before.”

Markus gave her a sour look as they walked down to the elevator.

Valerie held up her hands in surrender.

“Okay, point taken, trumpets in the ward is a terrible idea.”

“Mm-hm. What do you got for me today?”

Valerie grimaced, handing a chart over to him.

“... 205. And… of course.”

I’m gonna kill Dr. Rousseau-...

Markus had an idea… An awful idea.

He was going to hear about it from the higher ups later.

oooooo

“STOP FOLLOWING ME!”

The music might’ve been pleasant, had Cade actually been playing properly. He knew how… He also knew every darn way to make a trumpet sound like it was being murdered. Currently, he was playing “death noises” from a video game as he followed Luke Rousseau around, blasting as happily as he could. Keeping in mind as soon as they got near patient rooms he’d have to cut it out.

The area where most of the private offices were? Free game.

Markus bit his lip, trying so very hard not to laugh, recording it all on his phone.

Luke threw a glare in his direction.

“IS THIS YOURS?!” He shouted over the furious playing that just continued.

“WHAT?” Markus called over it, grinning. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“I SAID-”

DOOOOOOOT!

Luke glared Markus down before storming off for his office. Cade made it about halfway down before Markus caught up to him, slapping a twenty in his hand.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He threw an arm around his shoulder, smiling fondly. “You did good today.”

“I can come by anytime you need to tick him off.”

“When your follow up exam happens. I could use some Rise of the Valkyries or Ragtime.”

“Ragtime’s worse. Known to cause actual insanity.”

“Ragtime it is… Though, we’ll probably have to get everyone earplugs… and some apology food.”

“Long as I get my other half of the torture payment.”

Markus snorted, guiding him back. As soon as he noted some of the other doctors glaring at him, he put on his best “stern” look, swiping the instrument.

“Now, I told you not to even THINK about doing that! You are in SO much trouble young man!”

“Oh, bite me!” Cade played along, reaching for it, letting Markus catch his wrist, marching him along back to the ward.

Soon as they were out of sight, they broke down snickering, leaning on each other to keep upright.

“Okay, it’s official. You’re pretty cool, Big Brother.” Cade laughed, wiping away a tear.

“So are you kiddo. So are you.”

“So… How much can you extend this little vacation from school?”

“Pffft. Mom would kill us both and if not Yaya would.”

“... That’s fair. That’s totally fair.”

#Trauma Center #Trauma Center Fanfiction #Trauma Center New Blood #Cade Vaughn #Markus Vaughn #Valerie Blaylock #Dr. Rousseau #Trauma Center OC #TC Fanfiction #New Blood fanfiction #TCDarkestStorms

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lovedinapastlife · 6 years ago

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Riverdale Reaction - 3x17 - “The Master”

They could’ve renamed this episode “The Snacks” and it’d be pretty damn accurate

The Serpents are slithering in the name of justice and laser pointers! I’m already 10/10 all in

No necklace on V! Is that growth? Can Betty get her a BFF chain thing? Like a heart with two halves and they each wear them? Ohhhh look at my scheming girls.

HA! The Serpents pool table replaced the dining room table. I mean, priorities. Really.

There is an obscene amount of orange juice in the Jones house. Commentary on the acidic relationships? Sunny dispositions? Maybe not. The photos on the fridge have changed and transferred! Woo! OH NO SHE DID NOT grab Jug by his hair and hat. Momma is going down. I’m siccing the girls on her.

Omg Betty’s “ritualistic drowning” line and Veronica’s big smile like “That’s my girl” made my heart swell. Love them when they’re fighting evil instead of perpetrating it.

Did Kevin just put “garden” in air quotes? It sounded like he did. They do have a garden. We saw it. Multiple times.

Alice looks good in white. And crazy XD Wear a silky camisole out in the world as a shirt. You do you, girl. I love the orange/red "yeah I used to be a Serpent” outfit from S2 and hope that comes back at some point.

Why do they choose the creepiest area of Mercy to do interviews? I enjoyed it, weirdly enough. Made their facial expressions reminisce of unimpressed teens sitting in on a scary story. Also, I love how it’s just a check mark box of YES or NO on whatever’s on the sheet and Evelyn didn’t bother marking the last one.

Hermione, the whiney ex-wifey. What was she gonna do if Hiram actually stayed down during those 2 murder attempts? Girl, all you had to do was hold those tubes of oxygen and he’d be taking a dirt nap

Archie’s face as he makes a healthy shake while Jughead noms on chips made me laugh. Classic. Also, any time Archie eats something unhealthy he looks anxious like it will immediately deflate his abs. The prison storyline is silly. Still. Am I the only one who’s still confused by Mad Dog’s status?

The Varchie scene. Sigh. Sometimes I want to bite Archie’s nose because I’m not passionate enough to slap him but I’m frustrated enough I wanna leave a pointy little imprint for a minute. “You worked so hard…before…” Oh like Mary, Sierra, and Betty did as well when you were in trial? And yes, Veronica worked her butt off too and made CUPCAKES for your return! THE CUPCAKES! I’m still upset about it.

“Yes, they wear white after Labor Day…” Is it intentional that Cheryl’s wearing white in this scene? Foreshadowing? Love the little detail on her sweater and Betty’s red sweater as if she’s an ally for the Blossoms.

Ok I’m loving the over-the-top nonsense of Jughead with a switchblade demanding they look for gargoyles on telephone poles and confiscate “gaming equipment.” The Serpents oughtta get a PS4 or something. I love Deputy!Serpents. SOMEONE has to actually do some investigating in this town. And ass-kicking? And pin-pushing? Hilariously enough. Did anyone else notice Jughead thanked a kid named “Jason” on the walkie? Is there a Serpent without a stupid nickname? Or is that a codename?! So many questions.

Ha! FP is mad the Serpents “ruined” his bust. Like, sorry for doing your job before you, sir.

BETTY SNOOPER! What a nickname. Love you, girl.

ELUCIDATE THAT. Damn, sir. You know how to use that vocabulary. I never had an affinity CMM as a teen but he’s got some vibes I’m digging. Like the colorful candles intermixed with the regular ones.

I love how Elio shows up in a full suit to antagonize men he doesn’t know and walks away after it appears Archie is more interested in Fight Club Light

Ok Cheryl has a daddy kink. I know she’s a canon lesbian but canon also has her very interested in the DILFs as eye-candy. Ooooh I cringed when she called him “Eddie.”

I had to rewatch the Archie and Juvie Crew Pop’s scene to get the significance of the guy saying “If I never ate anything but these burgers again, I’d die happy.” WHELP! Good news, person I presume is “Baby Teeth!”

People are terrible at assassination in Riverdale. Why send her a fish? That’s a decent dinner if she could cook. Which I somehow doubt, despite her waitressing at Pop’s. Now her apartment smells.

Betty stands alone in a sea of psychos

Oh my god Hiram’s little SPOOOON! He’s just trying to eat his tiny snacks in peace. He is so done with being accused of everything XD Honestly, he’s probably as sick of his storylines as we are. Also, is that a man with the Olympic torch on the left? Is that gonna be his S4 storyline? Hiram goes for Gold?

Uuuugh I know it was a useless but cute scene and Bughead are so soft I wanna cry. They’re glowing.

Are there ribbon-cutting ceremonies for prisons? Only in Riverdale, I guess.

Maybe there’s a good reason Betty didn’t ask Archie to be her mole at the Farm. He’d definitely join them or just break stuff with his new boxing crew and be like, “LOOK, BETTY! I DID WHAT YOU ASKED :D”

So the juvie guys know the same Serpent deputy secret signals, huh? This sequence is so Riverdale. And Jughead takes NO ONE up with him except Mr. Crowbar? Look at this crazy fight sequence. Good thing the Gargoyles choose to wear masks that limit their vision or our boys may have been in trouble. Because in this DARK SHOW with 99% leather and jeans on boys, how would they know who was who otherwise?

Omg Rhino!Archie is on the loose! I have mixed feelings about the raid sequence.

The ascending window-escape wasn’t really a build-up? They needed some creepy dialogue or something more than that one line. That fall looked pretty painful though? At least he didn’t snag the beanie on a stray plank.

Ok this show doesn’t get how marriage and annulment works. But that’s okay. Hiram can be like Henry VIII and make his own rules. It’s Riverdale.

VERONICA! You schemey schemer! I’d clutch my pearls if we still had any!

Okay does Gladys genuinely not care if Jughead gets shot? Like, she doesn’t actively want to murder him but she’d be fine if he was gone? Because that SUCKS. And giving the Gargoyles guns, she knew that was a possibility. Okay, lady. Game on. Jug should tell his dad. Oh man. My heart.

Betty, my precious snoopy angel! Find Edgar’s tapes and Evelyn’s if you can!

“Like a seance?” anyone else having flashbacks to Jason’s wake and Betty and Juggie bein’ cute lil detectives? Cheryl…oh Cheryl. You saw Jason move on. CARRY ON MY WAYWARD BLOSSOM~ Also, I know the Toni breakup thing was a ruse, but uh…where is she? Just pretending to be broken up with Cheryl? Not caring that she’s in a cult? Alrighty then.

I wonder if Archie or Hiram kept the random trophies in the gym. Again, I’m gonna randomly say that’s gonna be a future season storyline. Forget state champs, these teens wanna get to the Olympics, only to be undermined by their jealous parents!

Okay Betty in a scooped/V-neck? Nice. Also, it looks like Alice is wearing a sheep pin which makes me laugh and also die a little inside.

Alice. You have a daughter. Two, in fact. Neither of whom you have a good experience with because you’re a crap mom, so of course the imaginary dead son is your favorite.

Betty vs. Evernevers! Hell yes! Can we have V join Team Betty more actively as a badass and ignore the speakeasy/divorce stuff in favor of righteous awesome? ‘K thanks!

The Baby Teeth stuff was gross. No thanks. Next.

#riverdale reaction #riverdale react #3x17 #3.17 #riverdale #the master

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larksinging · 5 years ago

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alright it’s @rumtumtuggers birthday today!!! happy birthday hunter, now you can finally leave middle school,

but no really im so glad we’ve started talking more?? honestly being able to bounce ideas off of you and hearing all the great and creative ideas you come up with has made me feel so much more creative and i cant possibly thank you enough for that. thanks for joining rwby hell with me! im so happy we started talking more and really became friends. anyway! i hope you have a good year coming up....

in honor of rwby hell, here is some actual rwbies from “hell”, aka some random white rose scene from demon au

“Do you dream?”

“What?” Ruby rolls over to face Weiss, who just glances at her demon and then back up at the canopy.

“The way you were talking before. It sounded like you didn’t know. Do you actually dream?”

“No,” Ruby admits. That’s not entirely true. She thinks she used to, once. But it was so long ago that she’s forgotten. “What’s it like?”

No matter how many contracts Ruby takes with mortals, she’ll never get used to the mind numbing boredom of waiting for them to finish sleeping. And they get so fussy if she tries to wake them, too! It’s sooo annoying. And sure, she could sleep too, but that’s boring and unnecessary and she has much better things to do during her limited time in the mortal world.

Sometimes Ruby just wakes up her contracted human and bothers them until they entertain her, but she won’t for Weiss. She actually likes Weiss. So instead she’s lounging on the luxurious couch on the other side of the room (Weiss got all huffy the first time Ruby tried to lay on the bed, so exiled to the couch it is).

The tip of her cape lays on the floor while she sprawls on the fancy pillows and holds the “tablet” above her to play the silly fruit game Weiss showed her. The screen and the moonlight filtering in through the windows lights the room up silver and blue.

She just beats level 945 with a soft “Oooh yes!” when Weiss makes a choked gasp and sits upright in bed.

Ruby glances up lazily to make sure that Weiss isn’t actually dying, but she’d be able to sense that. Contract stuff -- it’s no good to contract to a human who ends up dying. It kinda stings. But no, she can tell Weiss isn’t dying. Cool. It’d be inconvenient if Weiss died, and also a little sad.

“Good morning,” Ruby drawls.

At her voice, Weiss nearly jumps out of her skin. “Wh...?” She blinks at Ruby, and then the clock on her bedside table. “It’s... it’s not morning,” She stammers. “It’s two am.”

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Ruby swipes another combo on the screen. “Then it’s morning. Let’s go!”

“I didn’t wake up for you,” Weiss hisses. “I just... woke up.”

“Noooot seeing a difference.”

“I had a nightmare, okay?” Weiss’ voice pitches up in a strange way. It’s enough to get Ruby to put the tablet down and look over. “It’s not important. I’ll go back to sleep in a minute.”

“Oh. That’s rough. I think.” Ruby offers helplessly. “I know some demons who eat nightmares. Nightmares are the bad ones, right? Or maybe they cause them, and it was that one angel who eats them. Or...”

“You-- Never mind. I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Ruby fumbles around the couch to find where she threw the Scroll, until she hears a low whining noise. She looks up, but Weiss is looking at her hands clenching the blankets.

For all her impatience, this time Ruby knows to simply wait and watch. And just as she expected, Weiss eventually unfurls.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Weiss says, her voice soft and almost wavering.

“I’m right over here,” Ruby replies with a shrug.

“That’s not--” Weiss frowns. “Just... come over here. Please.”

Even if Ruby doesn’t totally get it, she obeys and wordlessly crawls onto the bed. There’s plenty of room for both of them, but Weiss still scoots over to make space for her. Taking the cue, she lays back against the pillows, even if she’s still on top of the blankets. Weiss doesn’t say anything and Ruby just stares up at the canopy.

“...Am I supposed to be doing something?”

“Just be quiet for one second, you dolt.”

“Oooookay. One--”

Weiss smacks her shoulder and Ruby just grins, but she’s quiet after that.

“Do you dream?”

“What?” Ruby rolls over to face Weiss, who just glances at her demon and then back up at the canopy.

“The way you were talking before. It sounded like you didn’t know. Do you actually dream?”

“No,” Ruby admits. That’s not entirely true. She thinks she used to, once. But it was so long ago that she’s forgotten. “What’s it like?”

Instead of answering her immediately, Weiss stares up at the ceiling. “It’s like…. Watching a movie. No. It’s like someone telling you a story, but you’re living it, except everything’s kind of hazy. Like... a cloud?”

“Hmmm.” That sounds strange and alarming, the way lesser demons describe being bound by their true names, but Ruby can’t quite imagine it. “I love stories. Yang used to read them to me.”

“Very old stories, I imagine,” Weiss adds. “Like ‘The Death and the Farmer’?”

Ruby laughs loudly. Weiss frowns at her. “What’s so funny?! That’s one of my favorites!”

She has to wipe the tears from her eyes, but eventually Ruby manages to settle down. “Yeah, Yang told me that one, sorta. A veeerrry different version than the one you know, I bet.”

“The version I know is probably better,” Weiss rolls her eyes. “But... maybe sometime we can compare notes.”

“Mmm, alright. If you’d like that.”

Weiss wraps her arms around one of Ruby’s arms and rests her head against Ruby’s shoulder. Ruby blinks up at the mild darkness, but allows it.

They fall into silence again. She hears Weiss’ breathing start to slow, so she must’ve fallen back asleep.

With Weiss so close, Ruby’s reminded of just how warm humans are. They’re a good few degrees cooler than Ruby herself -- though even Ruby doesn’t run as warm as Yang -- but there’s something charming about human’s more gentle warmth. It’s soft and radiating, like an old memory.

“Goodnight, Weiss,” She murmurs gently, and closes her own eyes.

Ruby doesn’t dream, of course. That much wasn’t a lie. She’s not in the business of lying.

When she does fall asleep, it’s usually either empty blackness or a swift drop into a different plane of existence. Mortals might call it a ‘dream realm’, which is nice if she and Yang want to meet up from halfway across the world (if they can sync up right).

But sometimes, if she lingers just on the edge of the darkness and the drop, she remembers things. Faded bits and pieces.

Even though she hasn’t said anything, she can tell that Dad knows what her decision is going to be. The way his smile doesn’t reach all the way to his eyes, the sad glint in his gaze when he thinks she isn’t looking. Ruby wishes she could tell him that he’s wrong. He’s not.

Technically she’s not supposed to tell anyone yet. Ancient rules and all. On sundown of her ...th birthday, she must choose. She can’t live with one foot in two worlds at once. Mortal or demon. Such is fate for halflings like her.

Dad’s been sad ever since Yang left .... years ago. And Ruby loves her dad, but she loves and misses Yang too, and she wants to see her and Mom more than once a year.

At least she’ll get to see them today before she decides! That’s the benefit of her birthday falling on ... (In the future they will call it All Hallow’s Eve, and then Halloween, and many other lost names). It’s the one time Mom and now Yang can visit.

Dad kisses her forehead when they leave the house. It’s a small farm house in the middle of the ... forest, on the island of ...., but Ruby loves it. She’ll miss it. Zwei barks and circles her legs as she picks up basket of food. The most morbid picnic ever.

They trek through the forest turning red all the way up to the cliffside meeting place. The meeting place is beside a marker stone, older than the town, which reads:

............... .................... Death knows this place .............

When they arrive, it’s close enough to dusk that Mom and Yang are already waiting for them there.

There’s something different about Yang now. Even if it’s been ... (Two, yes, two years), Ruby’s still not used to it. It’s a sharpness in her eyes or the way her hair almost glows. Her laugh seems to echo. It’s that unreal quality that Mom’s always had, she just never thought about it before because it was Mom.

Yang immediately runs to hug her. Ruby nearly suffocates in her grip, but wraps her arms around her sister anyway. Summer doesn’t, of course, because there’s only one time she can touch Ruby or Dad. Still, she laughs and smiles and tells Ruby how much she loves her.

They all sit down to watch the setting sun and have their own feast. Dad and Ruby eat the pastries they made this morning. Summer takes an apple and watches it disintegrate in her grasp, which is like eating for her. Yang eats some of the dried meat they brought in a single bite, and Ruby thinks she sees sharp teeth. She shivers, and only most of it is excitement.

Then the sun finally sets and everyone looks at her. She smiles sadly and says, “Sorry, Dad.” Because, to be honest, it was never a question which she would choose.

He hugs her tight and says goodbye, and then he and Zwei alone go back to the forest and towards home. She’s left on the cliff with Mom and Yang. Mom smiles, but Yang looks apologetic.

“I should warn you,” She says, “This is gonna hurt.”

“I… okay,” Ruby says, lightheaded from the realization of what she’s done. “Why?”

“The human part of you has to die,” Mom answers, with the infinite gentleness she’s always possessed. “I’m sorry. But we’ll be here for you.”

They’re not lying. About any of it.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep.”

Ruby blinks away to white hair tickling her nose. She sneezes and Weiss reels back with a yelp of disgust. Eventually Ruby sits up and rubs her eyes.

“I don’t need too,” She yawns, “I just choose to sometimes.”

“Well, choose to be awake right now.” Weiss puts her hands on her hips. Ruby deliberately moves slowly just to annoy her. “We need to be at a dress fitting in an hour.”

“Uuuugh, why? I’m pretty sure I’m older than, like, the concept of dresses. Why do I have to do this?”

“I highly doubt that.” For all her huffing, Weiss does offer Ruby a pastry she must’ve stolen from the kitchen. How rebellious! “We have that ball to go to this weekend, and we need to get appropriate attire. Mostly for you.”

Ruby devours the croissant in one bite. “Why do I have to go?”

“Father insists on it. It’s customary in Atlas to show off a bound demon.”

At first, Ruby rolls her eyes. She’s not really bound, even if she won’t tell Weiss that. It might spook her to know that Ruby’s not chained here by anything more than own amusement. The enjoyment she finds spending time with Weiss is a much stronger spell than anything else mortals try to use on her.

What she does do is narrow her eyes at Weiss and then grin wolfishly. “Aaaaand you want me to keep you company around all those stuff Atlas folks.”

Weiss frowns and looks away briefly. “...Perhaps.”

“Awww, Weiss, it’s okay, you can admit that you like m--”

Luckily for Weiss, her Scroll beeps. She promptly ignores Ruby, who flops back onto the bed. She waits until Weiss finishes typing out a message and come back over to the bed to glare at Ruby before pestering Weiss. “Who was that?”

“My fr-- that pen pal of mine. You remember.”

“The one with the blue hair?” “No! Not him. The one with your sister.”

“Oh.” Ruby sits up. “Oh! Did she mention Yang? How is she?”

Now it’s Weiss’ turn to roll her eyes. “She sounds fine. We’re just commiserating. She’s got a stupid event for work the same day as the ball.”

“Misery loves company!”

“Just get moving. Please. I am begging you.”

Pouty Weiss isn’t as fun as Cheerful Weiss, so Ruby does eventually get up. She smooths out her cape and watches at Weiss moves around the room to get some appropriate clothes for going out. She side-eyes the jacket Weiss is approaching with.

“If you don’t make me wear that, I’ll tell you demon secrets,” Ruby watches with a feral glint in her eye.

Weiss hesitates and lowers the jacket. “You need to look presentable.”

“No I don’t. I’m a demon. And most of the ones roaming around here look way worse than me.”

Eventually, Weiss sets the jacket down. “Alright.” She turns to leave and Ruby, automatically now, falls in step beside her.

“How about I tell you how wrong your version of ‘Death and the Farmer’ is?”

“That’s not a very good secret.”

“But it's fun.” Ruby folds her hands behind her head. “But first you’ve got to tell me the version you know.”

There’s a moment of silence as Weiss frowns and struggles to remember. “Once upon a time there was a farmer who lived in the middle of a forest on a lonely island. He had two daughters--”

“Nope.” Ruby pops her lips on the p sound. “Only one daughter.”

“What? Every version I’ve heard, he has two.”

“Oh, he does. Just not yet.”

Weiss furrows her brow. “If he only has one daughter before Death comes, then who’s the other daughter’s mother?”

“Did they seriously write that out?” Ruby laughs. “I guess they didn’t want to encourage people to date demons.”

“Death is her mother?”

Ruby just smiles.

#my writing #this kind of went all over but WHATEVER #rumtumtuggers #im tagging their writing blog because w/e

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chocosweetbun · 6 years ago

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ASOUE FIC 2.5K Words, Kitlafey

(I don’t write often, especially not fluff, so please forgive me =v=. Happy Valentine’s Day!!)

@huffleporg @madlovve and anyone else who enjoys this OT3!

(childhood friends/neighbors, there’s not enough au’s in this fandom that don’t follow canon, SLOW BURN god so slow- Theyre just friends for the first 2k words im so sorry)

Behind the school yard, a ways into the evergreen woods that stretch off into places no student ever dared to go, sits a strange sight. A patch a trees with branches low enough for the smallest of kids to climb, a clearing of light that cuts though tall soft grass and weeds, and a group of rocks that formed a throne fit for a forest king. No one ever saw it, no one ever went. It was the perfect spot for exactly 3 old friends to visit after years of absence, and yet they never did- at least, no one knew they did.

Kit Snicket was an adventurer. She fought off monsters under her bed, under her school desk, under- and over- teachers and other kids. You would think being 4’3 at age 10 would be a hindrance, but to her, and her wild red-brown hair that seemed to shift to blond in the sunlight, it was an advantage. She was popular to pick for every PE class, every recess, and every time someone needed defending on the playground. But that was only her at half power, for when she was with her two best friends, she was unstoppable. A wild-child in every sense of the word. Dewey Denouement didn’t exist. His brothers overshadowed him despite not meaning too and often the 11 year old was left in the back of the class to read whatever book he fancied that day. He wasn’t shy, but he had this quiet-politeness about him that made people think he faked his responses and conversations. Almost as though he just recited what he read somewhere. He just didn’t talk like a kid his age would, and it threw the others off. However, when he was with his two best friends his dazzling smile was present on his face no matter what. A calm boy who found where he belonged. Olaf (he dared tell no one his last name) was the kid everyone avoided. Due to unfortunate events and an odd placing birthday he was the oldest in his class at 13. Being 13 he had hit his “I hate everyone and everything” phase that all young teens go though, which meant he would often upset his younger classmates with harsh words and unpleasant actions passed off as pranks. His thin red-orange hair never seemed to be quite clean, his clothes were obviously expensive but never tidy, his fingers covered in small burns which he never would explain. The two classmates that would interact with him were the only reason he didn’t go insane being surrounded by people who refused to look his way. A strange teen who needed to let off smoke. Behind the school yard, a ways into the evergreen woods that stretched off into places no student ever dared to go, sat a strange sight. A patch a trees with branches low enough for the smallest of kids to climb, a clearing of light that cut though tall soft grass and weeds, and a group of rocks that formed a throne fit for a forest king. The group of friends found this when the schoolhouse’s kitchen caught fire and their class had to stand outside for the fire department to arrive. Olaf had snuck off, Kit behind him, and, when noticing his friends disappear into the trees, Dewey cocked a smile at the idea of a mini adventure and ran off to join them. “Holy shit- that’s a big snake-“ The eldest said, reaching out as though he was about to grab it. “What are you DOING?!” Kit pulled Olaf back with a surprising amount of strength. “It could kill you!” “Oh no it wouldn’t, I would kill it first before it even had the chance!” “Yeah right! Tell ‘em he would D I E Dewey!” “Ah-“ the middle child said, stuffing his book that he brought out to read in his backpack as the group walked further into the woods. ”That snake isn’t venomous so- He would probably be okay if it bit him-” “Dewey that didn’t help!” “Hey kit-kat mind letting go of me?” With that, Kit huffed as she pushed Olaf forward. “Fine but don’t go grabbing anything that Dewey doesn’t know the name of!” The child took hold of Dewey’s hand as she spoke- the innocent gesture was returned. “Fine fine- I won’t do anything pretty boy wouldn’t do.” And he continued the walk ahead. It wasn’t long before they found those trees, that clearing, and those rocks. They spent some time there playing- the faint sirens of firetrucks blaring in the distance telling them they were not missed- and as I’m sure you could imagine the three each found the best spot to be. Kit climbing the trees, Dewey lying in the grass, and Olaf perched on the rocks. They laughed, talked, threw leaves and grass, picked flowers (Dewey and Kit did- Olaf just watched) and overall had a good 30 minutes of time together before they heard the large red trucks drive away. “We should go back.” Dewey said. “Yeah, you’re right.” Kit replied, hopping down from a branch. Olaf came down from his throne and stood over the two, his face showing that he was deep in thought. “Are you guys doing anything after school tomorrow?” He said. ________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ The next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, the group kept visiting the hidden place in the trees. August turned to September, then October, then November. When it got too cold to go walking the trio would visit Olaf’s empty house and attempt to build forts and bake holiday cookies. But on New Year’s Eve the three agreed to hop out of their bedroom windows, run though the snow with flashlights in their small hands, and meet in the forest where they would all climb up the biggest tree and watch the fireworks from the very top. They neglected to think about the ice on the branches, and after the 5th time Kit slipped and fell- they gave up. “I’m telling you I CAN DO IT-“ Kit struggled in the grasp of Olaf’s arms, who was desperately trying to keep her from breaking her own neck. “You’ll break your neck!” Dewey said, standing in front of the tree with his arms spread- as if that would block the young girl from wanting to climb. “When has Dew ever been wrong, huh? Gah- stop it!” “AHH-!” Kit shouted as Olaf tackled her to the ground. You may be thinking ‘That boy is double her size! Surely he hurt her-‘ and you would be completely wrong. Olaf was a thin, weak child, and Kit was more durable then one might think. He pinned her down in the snow, sitting with his legs across her stomach, as though she were a pillow under his knees. “Get off of me! Uuuugh!!!” And with that last sigh, she was defeated. Olaf then plopped back, legs still over Kit, to lie in the cold snow. Dewey soon joined them, using Olaf’s stomach as a headrest. As the sound of fireworks began on the horizon, the three were all thinking the very same thing. “I really could have got up that tree-“ “We can die if we stay in the snow-” “I’m happy you guys are here with me-“ Well, not exactly the same thing. “I’m happy too! I really love you guys!” Kit said, using her arms to make a torso-only snow angel. The snow was not nearly deep enough though, so her jacket got stained with mud. “I love you both too!” Dewey said, using a foot to kick around some dead twigs in the ground. “Like a couple of kids like you could know what love is.” Olaf scoffed, his teen drama act rearing its head. “I’m hardly a kid anymore! I’m 11 now!” “No, Kit, you’re still a kid.” “Well Dewey is almost 13 like you!” When the sound of the fireworks ended, the three prepared to part ways. Dewey brushed off the mud on Kit’s coat with his gloves and did his best to fix her hair while she bickered more with Olaf on how old someone must be to not be a ‘kid’ anymore. Kit says 11, Olaf says 13, and Dewey thinks to himself that whenever that age may be, they all would remain childish like this forever. ________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ February 14th rushed though fast, and after school the three once again met up behind the schoolyard. Dewey brought handwritten letters detailing how important the other two were to him, Kit gave them handmade pottery that she had made in art class, and Olaf said “Happy Valentine’s Day” while giving them necklaces crudely made, the pendants being a small crow feather on each. He also wore one and said he had just happened to make extras. This evening was not spent separate, instead all three of them sat in the thawing grass, side by side by side. They were just finishing up a conversation on the best kind of chocolate when Dewey (who has been silently listening) asked a question. “What is it like to have a crush on someone?” “It means you want to get married, right?” Kit said, her childish innocence causing Olaf to snicker. “Nah, It means you want to make out with them.” Olaf leaned back on his hands, obviously trying to appear cool. “Ew-“ Kit scrunched up her nose “That’s gross, don’t people only do that on T.V.?” “No I don’t think so.” Dewey pulled his knees to his chest. “That’s just like…kissing and stuff- right?” “Yeah sure, basically.” “Have- you kissed anyone before Olaf?” Dewey asked with his usual soft tone, but a bit of nervousness peaked though his posture. On the other side of the taller boy, Kit’s eyes grew wide with curiosity. “Oh he probably has! Right? Was it gross?” Kit leaned in close to Olaf, pushing said boy closer to Dewey. The eldest stayed silent, opting to ignore his friend’s questions by standing straight up, causing Kit to crash into Dewey’s legs. “wal ha wahs meen” Which roughly translates too “Well that was mean” when said by a girl who is face first in a pair of knees. Olaf walked away as the other two were left sitting. “Was I too blunt…?” Dewey helped Kit lean back off his legs. “I think he’s just in one of his moods.” Rubbing her nose, she stood, reaching her hand out to help Dewey stand. He took hold without a second thought, and soon the both of them were caught up with Olaf. The three of them went back to talking as though nothing had ever even happened. The next day, in class, Olaf pulled Dewey aside. “Is it Kit?” The teen said. “Maybe, I’m not sure.” The short boy paused and tried for a moment to read Olaf’s expression. “Would you be upset if it was?” “Yes.” ________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________

When Dewey turned 13, Olaf 14, they shared a moment behind one of the rocks during a game of ‘Hide from Kit so she doesn’t make you stick fight with her’. “Why did you-“ “Because I wanted too.” In the moment neither was really sure who said what, or who kissed who. Kit found them, and all three were forced to avoid getting beat with a stick-sword for nearly an hour. ________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ When Kit turned 12 she told Olaf that she was in love with him. He asked her why she thought so when she was obviously closer to Dewey. She couldn’t answer- and argued that she was equally close with them both. “So why DO you think you love me and not him then?” He had asked. She begun to cry in frustration and left with a “Whatever- Forget it. I guess I don’t know my own feelings.” Olaf thought to himself that she was beginning her ‘I hate everyone and everything’ phase a little sooner than he expected. ________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ The kids were growing up, Dewey thought to himself, and he saw it in the way Kit hugged his arm whenever she was avoiding whatever harsh words Olaf said. He also saw it in how Olaf refused to let Dewey lean against him anymore. But as the three of them quietly walked to their normal place- he realized that they weren’t growing UP, but APART. The thought made him want to cry. That day Olaf told them that his parent’s were sending him to a boarding school, and that he was leaving right away. Dewey started crying, realizing that there was no way to salvage the relationship that was breaking- He started crying more when Kit let go of his arm, marched over to Olaf, and hugged him for the first time in a month of silence, arms linked around his neck. Dewey watched as Olaf hugged her in return, the image of her small form surrounded by his tall lanky one was out of place in the summer sky. “You can’t go-“ Dewey heard Kit say as he slowly walked over to the pair. “I can’t stay, I’ve tried-“ Dewey reached the couple and hesitated for a moment- watching the two of them embrace in their last ever meeting. He felt like he was intruding- but his urge to say goodbye to Olaf and comfort Kit was too overwhelming. He was not alone in this, for Kit and Olaf both pulled him into their hug before he had a chance to try and worm his way in himself. “I- I really love you guys-“ Kit’s words were laced with sorrow and the sound of cicadas.

“I love you both two-“ Dewey replied, dropping his book to the hard ground as he buried his face into Olaf’s chest and Kit’s hair. “I- I’m going to miss you.” Olaf said to them both. Neither of them brought up how that was the first nice thing Olaf had ever said to either of them in the years of knowing each other, unless you count the hundreds of tears that puddled up on the ground.

________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ A decade later and some change later, a young woman with red-brown hair stepped into the sunny spot on the soft grass and weeds, the feather necklace being blown by the wind. A young man with a dazzling smile was holding her hand, adorned with a ring, and he, too, modeled a similar necklace. However it was tied around his wrist for he had grown out of it. They wave to a figure appearing from behind the too-small to climb trees, the feathered neck-piece lengthened to fit his adult form. No one ever saw them, no one ever will. It was the perfect spot for exactly 3 old friends to visit after years of absence and talk about never forgotten feelings, muddy coats, growing families, and how to spend the rest of Valentine’s day. They didn’t go though with their plans, and instead rested together in the thawing grass until dusk.

#i didnt edit this so please excuse mistakes #i had to cut out a LOT of the end because i couldnt write it the way i wanted it too #asoue #asoue fanfic #ot3 #kitlafey #kit x olaf x dewey #kit snicket #count olaf #dewey denouement

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