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unnoticed-poison · 1 year ago

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My sister is...a fraud!!

Those two have been all over my TikTok and I couldn't resist writing a short fic for them (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)this is also posted on AO3 and Wattpad

Part 2 of this fic is posted

_____________─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───_____________

"Listen people of Mount Rageous.."

Veneer took a deep breath as everyone's head snapped towards him, he could feel Velvet's curious gaze on his back.

He glanced at Floyd, who gave him a reassuring nod.

'𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵.' he mouthed, Veneer smiled in response and turned to face the crowd. They were all watching him with curiosity and doubts clear in their eyes from everything that happened just now, he couldn't blame them.

"My sister is....a fraud!!"

There were gasps and murmurs among the people gathered here tonight as their eyes moved to his sister, who was staring at him in complete shock, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

"I...What?!!" he winced at her outburst but continued to look straight into her surprised expression.

"Sorry sis but you brought this on yourself.." he said, as he recalled how they got in this situation in the first place.

...══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════...

"We make a good team aye little bro?" Velvet asked, tapping the perfume bottle lightly with her finger.

"Yeah..."

"After such a show I need a rest, watch him for me k?" Velvet said, throwing the bottle his way, Veneer quickly caught the bottle before it hit the floor. He looked up at her and nodded.

"Just don't lose sight of him or something okay?" she said, yawing.

"Will do Sis." he nodded as she walked away, disappearing behind a nearby alleyway.

"Veneer, please.. let me go." Floyd, who was stuck inside the bottle, pleaded, pressing his hand against the glass to get Veneer's attention.

.......

Veneer sighed. " You know I can't." he shrugged. "It's nothing personal really, I just love my sister and all my fame, and things I brought, you get it? I can't afford to lose all that you know?"

Floyd opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't say anything for a moment. Finally, his lips parted again, helplessness plain on his features as he stared at Veneer.

"Is there no other way..?"

"I'm afraid not, I can't betray my sister sorry, like I said it's nothing personal."

Silence fell between them.

Veneer couldn't deny that he felt a little guilt about what he and his sister were doing, he didn't even want to be famous at first, but Velvet was so adamant about having him join her when she started her career, and Veneer loved his sister too much to deny her anything. Even if it meant risking his reputation and his life.

Floyd suddenly broke the silence, "Wait!"

Hm?

Veneer raised a brow as he waited for the red-haired troll to continue, his eyes brightened as he stood up and pressed both his hands against the glass.

"How about we make a deal? I'll help you so you can keep being famous and you let me go, and I'll promise that I won't tell anyone about what you two did."

Veneer paused for a moment, contemplating his words. "Elaborate.."

A glint of determination sparked through Floyd's eyes as he explained. "Remember the times you practised when Velvet wasn't around?"

Oh.

"You do have some talent, albeit not much, but with a couple of months of practice.."

"What are you trying to say..?" Veneer asked, his interest peaked.

"If you would let me finish explaining first, that would be great," Floyd replied, smiling slightly, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Veneer rolled his eyes as Floyd continued,

"The plan is simple, if you train hard for a few months, let's say two or so, you should be able to sing and dance without resorting to kidnapping and torturing more trolls like me,"

Oh..

Veneer considered for a while, he had never actually thought about this, but the idea was intriguing.

"Sure.. but what about Velvet though, you know how she is."

"You can show your sister after that how much you improved and perhaps she'll change her mind and start practising as well!"

huh.

"And if she says no?"

......

Floyd shrugged, he'll find a solution for that later. "Then we'll just have to see then, won't we?"

"Well, it's certainly worth a shot.."

Veneer said reluctantly, he still wanted to make sure his sister wouldn't hate him after this, but..he was willing to give it a try.

"So do we have a deal?" Floyd asked, looking up hopefully.

.....

"..Fine." Veneer finally gave in.

He just hoped this wouldn't end badly for him.

And thus, they began their secret singing and dancing sessions, with Floyd as his unofficial music tutor.

Whenever he and Velvet were done with their shows, he would sneak out and return to the studio to meet Floyd and practice for hours and hours until dawn.

Floyd was a wonderful teacher and helped him a lot with getting his range and flexibility right.

"Good good you're doing great! now three turns to the left then a flip! very good, just keep going like that!" Floyd exclaimed.

Veneer was panting, sweat pouring down his face as he repeated the steps over and over again until he perfected what he'd learned so far.

After practice, he'd return home before it was time for Velvet to wake up, leaving him with only 2 or 3 hours of sleep if he was lucky, so he started taking naps in between practice hours.

But there seemed to be something wrong with Velvet, her behaviour seemed to be getting...real bad, worse than ever before, he could barely catch any breaks from her, she would criticise him constantly, whenever it was about his dancing or singing, she would always find something to criticize.

'What the hell was that?'

'You call that dancing? our fans would hate that'

'How many fans do you think we can gain by making up little dances? Don't be stupid.'

'You need to do better'

'I'm starting to think you need the troll more than me'

It made him angry and upset at the same time, it frustrated him beyond belief, but thankfully Floyd was there to comfort him every time.

'How can someone treat their own sibling this way..?'

'Don't listen to her, you're doing great.'

'I just feel sorry for you.'

'I know it's none of my business, but if she truly cared about you, she wouldn't force you to do this.'

Floyd continued to chip away at Veneer's doubts, planting seeds of resentment and doubts at the back of his mind during this period.

Veneer was exhausted by the constant arguments, he didn't want to think badly of his own sister, but that last comment from the little troll made him have some doubts.

if she really cared for him, why does she treat him like an inconvenience..?

........

No no, it's not like that, maybe she's just stressed from having to keep up with the shows and fans and stuff and that was her way of relieving some of the stress, yeah that's it.

She would never intentionally hurt him, she cares about him.

Right..?

✧Sometime later✧

Velvet and Veneer smiled as they basked in the people's praises and adorations for their last performance of the evening.

Velvet smirked as she glanced at her brother. "Oh don't you just love this Veneer, the cheer and praises from our fans, It feels so good to get all that attention."

Veneer nodded, the smile he had was a little strained, "Yeah I guess..."

Once they were out of sight, her smug smile turned into a frown as she turned to him.

"By the way..."

He flinched and awaited the unavoidable criticism coming his way.

"What's wrong with you lately?! you almost made me trip when you bumped into me earlier!"

Veneer winced, after several weeks of the same routine, the lack of sleep took a toll on him and his performance during the shows, his dancing moves were a bit sloppy but his singing seemed better than ever.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep well the last few days," he said, taking a seat on the couch to rest and catch his breath.

"Well you better find a solution to whatever is bothering you cause you're making ME look bad!" she huffed, her arms crossed and glaring at him.

Veneer nodded and rubbed his neck in thought, he was a bit nervous.

"Sis, There's something I need to talk with you about, it's important..." He began, he kept putting it off as much as he could, but he and Floyd figured that it was time, and he finally worked up the courage to talk to his sister about it.

Velevt hummed. "Out with it then."

"I was thinking that maybe we can...stop using the troll..?" he muttered, his voice too low and filled with uncertainty.

"Huh? Stop with the mumbling I can't hear shit." Velvet said, and she used the perfume bottle again, making the troll inside groan in agony.

"I don't want to use the troll anymore!"

........

Velvet paused, while the previously blue, now turned grey troll stared at him with a proud expression, a small glint of hope can be seen in his eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, they both flinched as the girl suddenly burst out laughing. "My god, this is THE funniest joke I've ever heard! you're a real comedian, brother."

"I'm not joking, this is serious."

Velvet scowled, their 'talent' had won them countless fans and everything they had ever wanted, to see her own brother have doubts now about their doings, it filled her with rage. "Why the sudden change of heart, Don't be stupid Venner, you know we can't."

"But we can practice!" He pressed on, he didn't want to go against her, and he knew Floyd was the source of their success and everything they have now, but he couldn't keep on like this either. "it might take a while but we'll finally be famous in our own right without having to resort to kidnapping anymore trolls and drain their talents, we can tell our fans that we're talking a small break so they won't suspect anything!" he added, desperation creeping into his voice trying to choose his words carefully to not make her even more mad.

He then pointed to the tired-looking troll. "I mean look at this guy, he looks rough and pale as heck, and not in a gorgeous Victorian way, I don't think we can use him for much longer anyway, and look! I can show y-" he said, about to show off the results of his hard work, but Velvet immediately interrupted him.

"Ooo so that's what this is about, I get it now."

He blinked. "You do?"

Velvet nodded, shaking the perfume bottle lightly. " You are worried about what are we gonna do after this one kicks the bucket, huh."

"What? no, I-"

"Well, I have a surprise for you little bro," she said, before turning to their assistant, who was standing in the corner. " Crimp!"

The little creature jumped slightly startled. "Y-yes?"

"Do you have the thing ready?" she asked.

"What thing? oh, you mean THAT thing! Of course one second I'll bring it in right away!" she said, running off as fast as she possibly could, leaving the two siblings behind.

"What was that about...?" Veneer muttered, he had a bad feeling about this.

Velvet grinned as she walked over to the closet nearby. "No need to worry, I have already got this covered, look!"

"What do you mean- What the hell!?" he yelled out in shock as she pulled out a small cage.

"We can't let our career get ruined just cause one pesky troll died, can we?" she said with a wicked grin on her face.

"You let us go right this second you little brat!!"

"John?!" Floyd yelled out, staring at his brothers in shock and horror, "Spruce, Clay? how did you all get captured?!"

"It's a long story."

"All of you shut it." Velvet hissed as she shook the cage angrily, causing the trolls inside to stumble back and cry out in pain.

Veneer was stunned.

"You captured more trolls..?"

Velvet looked proud of herself. " Yes, aren't I so great and thoughtful? there's more than enough for the two of us, we don't have to worry about losing our 'talent' anytime soon, now where the hell is Crimp?"

"I'm here!" Crimp called out as she ran back in, this time with two tops with huge shoulder pads.

Velvet nodded, before walking over and putting each of the struggling trolls into the empty spaces.

"Velvet... What is this?"

"Oh, this? we just have to press this little button here and voilà!" she said as she pressed the button, causing the trolls to groan in pain as they felt their talent being sucked while Crimp and Veneer watched in horror.

"You're smart Crimp, I'll give you that, but unfortunately..." she suddenly grabbed the wig and walked over to the closed, "I can't trust you anymore, so you'll stay here until we get a new assistant."

"Wait please no-!" Crimp yelped as she was roughly thrown inside the closet before it was closed.

Fuck, this couldn't be happening...

"Please sis, we can't be doing this! it's too cruel, how about we practice like I sugges-"

"Oh my dear stupid brother, I have already said that I DON'T want to work to be famous, and nothing will EVER change my mind, besides, if those little things escape and expose us we'll be done for," she said, walking over to him and glared at him, making him take a few steps back until his back hit the wall. "So, If you ever think of doing something stupid, just remember that you'll end up in jail just like me, and believe me when I say I'll make you regret it, got it?"

She then scowled, looking down at the trolls, to her, those annoying little creatures were nothing more than power resources. "As for you, don't worry, you won't be alone for long, even more of you will be joining you soon enough." Velvet hissed.

"Now make sure to take a long rest tonight, we have a big show tomorrow night, and you better not miss it up like today." she patted his head with a small mocking smile "And remember, you're 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 without me, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have all this fame and money, and don't you forget it."

She then left before Venner could respond, leaving him staring after her in shock. The whole situation was getting out of control, and he knew better than anyone how dangerous she was.

He felt his knees give up as he slumped to the ground.

What was he going to do?

Floyd, who noticed the state he was in, turned to his brothers and placed his finger on his lips, signalling them to be quiet while he dealt with the situation.

they were confused, they raised an eyebrow at him but decided to keep quiet and wait to see what he was going to do.

Veneer lifted his head as he heard Floyd speak up. " Are you really gonna let her treat you this way..?" his voice was laced with concern. "family don't treat each other like this."

"I don't know anymore..."

Fuck.

Floyd cursed in his heart, all his actions and words those past 2 months were to stir up conflict between the twins, creating a rift between them in Veneer's heart just in case the girl refused to change her ways like now, he could see that he still cares about her a little bit, which made him panic, he needed to find a way to change his mind, and quick, or else he and his brothers are done for.

He just needed a little push.

" Look, Veneer, I know this situation is difficult for you, you care for your sister and want the best for her, but can't you see that she's using you?"

Hurt shone in the youth's eyes as Floyd continued. "She doesn't treat you as an equal, you're nothing but a pawn to her, she's only using you for her own benefits, and you're letting her do as she pleases, she doesn't care about you like you think she does, do you want to spend the rest of your life being controlled by someone who doesn't even respect you?"

He then delivered the final blow. "Is that what you truly want?"

Veneer felt a lump form in his throat, he wanted to deny what Floyd was saying, but a small part of him knew that it was true, he had been so caught up in trying to improve and prove himself to his sister that he was been ignoring the way she's been treating him, shrugging it off as her being stressed.

.......

He really couldn't deny it anymore, huh...

"Maybe you're right..." He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "but I guess it doesn't matter what I think now, what else can I do? I still need to do whatever she says, If I let you guys go now, both of us will go to prison for tax fraud and other crimes, I have no choice in the matter."

"Wait." he suddenly said.

The green-haired boy groaned. "What now?"

There was a dangerous glint in the troll's eyes as he gave him a small smile." I think I know how to get you out of this situation scot-free."

"How..?"

"In order for this to work, I'll need your full cooperation and trust, it's not gonna be an easy thing for you, do you understand?"

The boy paused for a moment, considering his words, finally he nodded his head. " Yes, I understand, please tell me what to do."

Floyd nodded his head in approval. "Good, now first things first, let Crimp out."

Veneer did as he was told, he took the wig out, who was shaking in fear. " I swear I won't tell any-"

"Relax, we just need your help."

Crimp gulped, nodding her head, not daring to say anything else.

Floyd coughed as everyone gathered." now that everyone is here, what we need to do is..."

...══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════...

And so here they are now, in the middle of the stage, surrounded by their fans and the now-free trolls.

Veneer tried to ignore Velvet's shocked and furious glare as he spoke again. "She wanted to be famous by all means necessary, though she lacked talent, so she kidnapped the trolls and forced both me and our assistant to cooperate with her, we had no choice but to play along and obey her orders."

Veneer looked around the stand as he said this, seeing all their faces filled with confusion and disbelief.

"What the hell do you think you're doi-" Velvet began but interrupted as Crimp jumped on her head before jumping again and landing beside him, she pushed up her glasses. "And I have the proof!" she said, pressing the button as the large TV showed yesterday's event, with Velvet shaking the cage containing the trolls and threatening him to keep quiet.

"Oh my god.."

"It's true then!"

"What a monster.."

"Those poor little creatures.."

Suddenly a loud screech startled them, Veneer gasped as Velvet jumped at him, wrapping her hands around his neck, squeezing tightly.

Velvet had mascara running down her cheeks from the tears as she growled. " YOU LITTLE BASTARD! HOW CAN YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS? YOU'RE IN THIS JUST LIKE ME! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY FUCKING SIDE!! HOW COULD YOU!"

The boy struggled to breathe, trying to hold Velvet off as she kept screaming insults at him.

Ritz, the DJ who interviews them regularly tried to get her off him but was punched in the face, making him stumble back and fall to the ground in pain.

One of the security guards immediately rushed in and tackled her off of him, dragging her away.

"You're coming with us miss," he said as the girl struggled furiously, causing him to tighten his grip around her arm and drag her out.

"Let's me go!! Veneer!!"

Veneer coughed as he tried to catch his breath, his hand touched his neck, which was now bruised and full of bloody nail marks.

"Are you okay?" Ritz asked.

"Yeah.. you?"

The DJ nodded as he held his broken nose. "Yeah, but damn that girl is strong, I can't feel my nose, gotta get that checked right away, bye!"

Veneer nodded as the guy rushed off, he suddenly felt a hand on his foot and looked down, seeing Floyd looking up at him with a proud smile. " You alright?"

Veneer smiled at him weakly, rubbing his neck. "I think so..."

"I know it wasn't easy for you, but you did the right thing," he said quietly, giving him a reassuring pat, watching Velvet getting dragged by the security guards, with her still hurling insults their way.

His plan worked better than he expected, now he and his brothers are free, and he got revenge on one of those two.

Veneer couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. " I guess.."

Huh.

This is strange..

He doesn't feel as sad as he thought he would.

Maybe this is a good thing.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

"Look there she is..."

"She still has the nerve to act like she's something."

"What a bitch."

The two girls flinched as Velvet turned her head in their direction, her eyes holding a cold anger behind them.

"If you have something to say say it to my face, got it?" she hissed, glaring daggers at them, they both quickly backed down and ran off.

Velvet scoffed. "That's what I thought."

She grabbed a tray and went to grab some food, she almost gagged at the smell, the food here was absolutely vile and awful.

And this.. thing, this dark brown prison outfit was so uncomfortable and looked horrible on her.

She thought, taking a seat at an empty table and grabbing her fork.

"And now our time for our rising star, Let's have a round of applause for Veneer!!"

What..!

Her head immediately snapped towards the TV that was hanging on the wall to her left.

She could see Veneer smiling and waving at the camera as the fans cheered for him, she felt sick, a mixture of anger and jealousy consumed her as she watched him perform on stage without the help of any trolls, she couldn't believe it, and she hated to admit, but he was amazing at it.

The feeling of injustice and anger was becoming too much to bear, and the sight of him singing and dancing so confidently, only served to remind her of everything she had lost, her wealth, glory, fans, and her position as a rising star in the industry.

When did he suddenly get good at singing?! he was just as bad as her a few months ago!

This wasn't fair.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦!

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰-

Oo I see what this is about-

Wait..

Is 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 what he was trying to show her back then?

Was he practising behind her back..?

Is this why his movement was a bit sloppy during those few times..

𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴..

His lack of sleep...

So that's why he had a sudden change of heart... he didn't need any trolls to begin with!

She growled, her thumb pressing on the fork until it bent under her pressure.

This wasn't fair, if he tried harder to show her back then she wouldn't be rotting in this damn prison in the first place, she would've been standing beside him, basking in the glory and fame that she know they deserved!

This wasn't fair..

This wasn't fair!

THIS WASN'T FAIR!!!

"Do you have anything you want to share with your fans?" kid Ritz asked him, handing him the microphone.

Veneer let out a nervous chuckle, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Well, I kind of miss my sister to be honest with you, I..tried to change her mind multiple times, I didn't want to do this to her, believe me, I wish things were different, but she...refused to listen, I wanted us both to be here today since we've always been there for each other, but..you know.."

He sighed. " I just want her to know that I still care about her deep down, and I hope that one day...we can get back to the way we used to."

.........

After a few minutes of silence, she finally let out a sob, her grip on the fork loosened, before slipping out of her hand and onto the floor.

'This isn't fair...'

_____________─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───_____________

Kinda want to write more for those two and others ngl (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

#trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls floyd #manipulation #velvet trolls #trolls veneer

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cator99 · 5 months ago

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You know except for head office because of the one time I was working with a Big Deal company and I uh breached my contractual confidentiality after everyone on our team got a very evil grimdark email from our boss and i may have during some downtime causally mentioned it to the dope lesbian in charge who had become my bestie and because I wanted to continue to improve the working relationship between our two companies and she assured me that everything was going so impressively smoothly and that if there were any complaints from anyone on her side of things they would be adressed to the workers on the floor directly so she was just as confused as everyone on my team was! and at the end of the day during huddle she brought up that she'd heard we recieved an angry boss email in front of everyone (oops) and again reassured us that our work has been nothing short of perfect and if that's ever not the case she wouldn't hesitate to let us know at that very instant... however evil Todd from head office snitched to our boss that someone leaked the fact that we got a curse in the form of email from her... boss CC'd everyone lashing out and saying that whoever brought that up to our client needed to fess up within the hour or she would call each and every one of us individually until she found out who did it and they would be reprimanded. I explained myself to her and that I never showed the email thus didnt breach anything and that as the ones working directly with the company in person that any issues can only be worked through via direct open communication because I also value this working relationships we have with our clients and want to do everything I can to ensure we deliver our absolute best etc etc and there wasn't even anything wrong which SHE confirmed (i assume she had just been bored and hungered to psychologically torment us) so yeah wasn't reprimanded because I'm highly regarded and also the district managers favorite boy but yeah since then I've had a somewhat stained reputation which is punishment enough I suppose. It's been an uphill battle to get a promotion since. Especially since I tried to leave the company for the one I'd been working with and the lesbian boss advised that while she and her whole team absolutely want me they also don't want our company's working relationships to suffer cuz they'd poached from us before which sounded like a massive point of contention and that I'd have to ask for my boss's blessing before they would consider moving forward. Boss never responded to my email about that. Stumbled into getting the company's top hiring manager's email (I'd been working in proximity with him all week while we set up the store and we vibed af, didn't know his position, just noticed that he carried himself very important and then asked him who I should ask if I'm looking to work for them and then he gave me his personal email!) and I did everything I needed to do in such an impressively timely manner... yet nothing came of it. I think that perhaps in my over-enthusiasm I came across as unprofessional... or even far too confident for someone with so little experience...... that's just how I roll... I like to think I just have a naturally-occuring CEO mindset. Smoke Too Tough. Swag Too Different. Etc. If it wasn't meant to be it wasn't meant to be but I mean damn. What I need you all to understand is that I work for an actual honest to god demon from the pits of hell I wish I could even begin to explain it but I've never even met this woman whom everyone cannot even say her name without practically spitting it or at the very least groaning... the team leads and senior merchandisers had to attend a meeting with her a few months back and every person in attendance has described it as though she had somehow so effectively structured their meeting in order for her to elaborately construct a psychological torture chamber for each and every individual in attendance and then watch them break and break and break with the sole purpose of feasting off what remains of their soul survived the encounter.

Worked at one of the union stores today..... the union rep has to check over our work before we could sign out and I really like this store's particular rep... today she remarked that I'm the only person she sees being flip flopping between teams – to be honest I never really thought about it that way til she pointed it out... I'll take this as a testament to my recognized ability to work well with everyone and thrive any where I'm put... but the real thing is that the white team has been there from the start and the people on the indian team primarily speak hindi to each other so ppl tend to be scheduled based on these factors and they all have their own various internal power games of which I am outside of like lalalalala I love team I love work one day I'm gonna get promoted i swears it ladadedadoo. and I'm right. and everyone like me as a result.

#im ready... promotion......

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mochiwrites · 3 years ago

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please don’t ask

aka, 5 times grian and joel tried to hide grian’s death from scar, and the 1 time scar found out. 100 hours desert duo. established ship.

read on ao3!

Whistling to himself, Scar steps out of his hanging home. He looks over at the area of land that he’s settled in with a proud smile. He’s still a bit surprised that he’s made it to nearly half way of one hundred hours, a feat not even he himself expected. And he’s got quite a bit of work to show for it too! With his amazing nether portal, his farms, his curving tree.

But perhaps the best part of it all is that he’s not alone in this world. He’s with friends. And that makes the experience all the better. Speaking of his friends, it’s been a while since he’s seen them, being down in the mines for so long! Maybe he should pay them a visit?

With newfound energy, Scar hastily runs over to his barrel room and dumps some things into the barrels. He tries as best he can to keep them organized, making sure to put the wood with the wood, and the ores with the ores. Maybe he mixes a berry or two with the gold, but he’ll worry about that later!

As soon as he’s got the space to hold extra things, he’s out and running. His first stop is Grian’s place, because seeing Grian first only makes sense! And oh–! There’s that little fluttery feeling in his stomach that normally appears whenever he thinks about the avian. Scar’s got a little bounce in his step as he walks, and maybe he’ll play a little risky, with his water bucket in hand. He jumps and puts the water down at the last minute, adrenaline rushing through him.

“Man, my water bucket skills are really improving!” He grins, walking along the path. Maybe he should show Grian how much he’s improved.

With this in mind, he approaches the little hobbit hole like home, a smile on his face. “G-Man!” He calls, stepping inside. “I’ve returned from my cave explorations and–” His voice cuts off as he stares at an empty home. Gone are the villagers from their little trading stands, as well as all of Grian’s chests. “G?” He asks, stepping further into the house. It’s… completely empty. Why? Had something happened while he was in the caves?

“Grian?” Scar’s brows furrow as he looks around, seeing a very thin layer of dust beginning to settle over the once lively space that was Grian’s home. “Grian, bud, if you’re here, come on out!” Scar pleads, voice wavering with nervousness. It nearly cracks, but he holds it together. No reason to panic yet Scar, he might just be playing a very elaborate prank.

At least… that’s what he hopes.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look around a bit more, right?

With that in mind, Scar goes to wander around Grian’s house a bit. Maybe the prankster is just hiding around somewhere, waiting to scare him! Scar nods to himself, as if giving himself a pat on the back for “figuring it out”. Man, he can’t wait to see the look on Grian’s face when he catches him! Oh, it’ll be great!

“Scar?”

He screams in response, jumping. He turns around, seeing Joel standing in the doorway of Grian’s house. He raises a brow at the reaction he receives. “Are you alright?”

Coughing, Scar brushes off some kind of invisible dust from his jacket. He clears his throat, “Joel! I didn’t see you there!” He says, turning to him with a smile. “I’m fine. You startled me!”

“I can tell.” Joel replies, his smile evident in his voice. “What’re you doing standing around in Grian’s old base for?” He then asks.

“Well, I was looking for Grian actually! See, I just came back from my latest cave excursion and I figured I’d pop in to see good ol’ G-Man and see how he’s doing!” Scar answers, nodding. And then he processes just what Joel said, and he stops. “Wait did you say ‘old base’?” He questions, feeling that feeling of worry creep up on him again.

Joel opens his mouth to reply but stops for a moment, before he shuts it. “Uhhh, yeah, yeah. He moved bases, said something about this one not having enough space in it.” He explains, and Scar feels relief crash over him.

“Ohhh! That makes a lot more sense than what I thought!” He laughs, walking over to Joel to pat his shoulder. “I was worried something might have happened! Thanks for letting me know, Big Beans!”

“Sure thing, Scar.” Joel replies, offering a smile. Though, he misses how Joel’s smile is a tad strained.

“Well, since Grian moved, why don’t we do a bit of catching up on what I missed while I was mining, hm? You know, I saw this huge spider down in the mines! And get this. It was invisible!”

Scar is working on enchanting yet another pickaxe when Joel pops in. He can hear him climbing the ladder when he sees the man pop his head in. “Why hello there!” Scar greets, offering him a smile as he enters the room.

“Hey Scar,” Joel greets, setting down a shulker. “I’ve got a quick little delivery and then I’m off.” He says.

“Oooo!~ A delivery for me?” Scar asks, stepping back from his enchanter to look at the shulker box. His eyes shine with curiosity as he looks between the box and Joel. “What could it be?” He wonders aloud. Joel steps back from the box, letting Scar look inside. He lifts the box and sees three totems of undying laying in the box. “Whoa!” Scar exclaims. He raises his head to look at Joel, “Did you do another raid?”

“Nah. Grian, Jimmy, and I took down a woodland mansion, actually.” Joel answers, and Scar blinks.

“When’d you guys do that?” He asks, surprised.

“Er… when you went caving. It’s probably a good thing you didn’t come with us though, those vindicators hit rather hard.” Joel chuckles weakly. “No offense.”

“None taken my friend!” Scar hums, scooping the three totems into his arms. “These are greatly appreciated, and I am more than happy to pay you back for them!”

Joel waves him off with a dismissive hand, “Take that up with Grian. He’s the one who got them for you.” He informs him, and Scar feels a swell of affection in his chest. “He actually asked me to get these to you, seeing as he’s been so busy catchi – er, gathering more materials.”

Scar blinks, “Is it just me or does it feel like Grian is always gathering stuff?” He inquires, tone light. It certainly seems like Grian has been on the move nonstop lately. Every time Scar has run into him, he’s been in the middle of doing something. He thought that Grian would have relaxed somewhere in between now and his little caving adventure, but it seems like that hasn’t happened.

“Well, he does have a lot of work to do.” Joel reasons, “Making a new base and all. He’s also got his big base pillar thing.”

Humming, Scar’s brows furrow in response. “I guess so, yeah.”

Scar ends up finding Grian by complete accident, funnily enough. Or well, maybe that’s not entirely true. It’s more like Joel had informed Scar of where Grian had set up his new base, and Scar decided to drop in, scout things out.

He just… hadn’t thought that he’d actually see Grian considering the guy has been a rather busy bee lately.

When he has a free moment, Scar heads off in the direction of Grian’s new base with the help of his handy dandy elytra. And a few rockets of course. He’s been working on trying to avoid dying because of his artificial wings, not really wanting to go up in a puff of smoke thanks to kinetic energy. Plus, “I don’t really want Scar’s death on my conscience.”

So he’s been trying to be better about it, be more careful when flying. He’ll clip into the side of a mountain every now and then, but other than that he’s been doing pretty okay!

And finally, he spots Grian’s new base. Despite feeling confused about why Grian needed a new base, he finds himself smiling. He stayed with that modern grass top look then. Still, it doesn’t do much to quell Scar’s ever present confusion about why. Joel had said that Grian thought there wasn’t enough room, but from the outside, it seemed like this house wasn’t any bigger than the first!

Maybe it’s just bigger on the inside then?

Sticking a (very) graceful landing, Scar observes the front of Grian’s house. As usual, it has Grian’s trademark building technique. Faces. And of course, looking at the build gives Scar a little blast from the past, mind trailing back to the avian’s season seven hobbit hole. It’s quite the look.

He’s looking over all of the little details that Grian has included in the build when he sees a flash of red darting around inside. He blinks and walks over to the door, peering inside. “G?” He calls, and for an incredibly brief moment, he worries that Grian won’t actually respond. Which is silly, because this is Grian’s new base, and obviously the avian is right in front of him!

“Ah– just a moment!” Grian responds, and when Scar’s gaze settles on him, he finds him head first in a chest.

Curious, Scar walks inside. He looks around, feeling surprised at the sight of birch walls instead of spruce. Huh. Brushing it off, he glances at Grian. “Looking for something?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think I’ve lost track of my emeralds.” Grian replies, and Scar hears the sounds of him pushing things around in the double chest. “I need to trade with my villagers to make sure I keep their – aha! Found it!” Grian’s head shoots up from the chest, throwing the lid fully open with a bang as it hits the side of the chest. In his hand are a few green shiny jewels, and Scar only gets a glance before the smaller is heading over to his villagers and trading.

Scar follows him with his eyes, watching with a confused stare as he really looks at Grian’s mini trading hall. “Am I going crazy or do you have less villagers than you did before?” He asks, spotting the number of empty stations in the mini hall.

“It’s a work in progress hall at the moment. I’ve been putting it off because getting villagers can be incredibly frustrating but I decided today was the day to tackle it.” Grian hums in response, back still to Scar as he flips through a book.

A confused noise makes its way out of Scar’s throat, “But you had villagers, right? What happened to them?” He asks, mind flashing back to the empty stalls at Grian’s old base.

It’s then that Grian finally turns around to face him, and Scar can’t look away from him. “Scar!” Grian exclaims in shock, as if he’s been startled. “I didn’t realize it was you!”

“I’ve been here the whole time, G-Man.” Scar chuckles, walking over to him. Grian watches him approach until he’s standing right in front of him and he has to crane his neck up to look at him. “Though, forgetting about the villagers for a moment,” Scar starts, reaching out to brush his hand through Grian’s sandy hair. His fingers catch on a few particular strands, brows furrowing. “What happened to your hair? This strand here is all white!”

He misses the way Grian’s breath hitches at the question, eyes widening a bit. “Well uh.. y’know! I thought I’d try something different, kind of like how Joel has one strand of green hair.” He hastily explains.

Scar chuckles softly in response, “I have to say, I’m almost a little disappointed, Gri.”

Grian tenses beneath his hand as his fingers continue to brush through the smaller’s hair. “Y-You are?” He sounds nervous.

“Out of every color you could’ve picked, you chose white? A bit lackluster for you if you ask me. I think red would be a much nicer color.” Scar says before he can think. Images flicker in his mind. A mountain, sand, cacti, red eyes, “BETRAYER!” He winces, “Or… maybe a pink?”

Grian doesn’t comment on his little slip up. Instead, his shoulders relax and he laughs. It’s a nice sound, one of Scar’s favorites. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He replies, moving forward to wrap his arms around Scar in a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to embrace the avian, tugging him closer to himself. “I missed you. Joel said you went cave exploring?” Grian asks, voice slightly muffled against Scar’s jacket.

“Oh, yes! It was wonderful, the lush caves are absolutely amayzing!”

“Didn’t we establish that those caves are anything but Scar proof?”

“But the spore blossoms, Grian!”

The new white streak in Grian’s hair drifts to the back of his mind.

Scar is woken up by the feeling of the sun on his face. He slowly blinks awake, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He’s got a mouthful of hair, seeing as Grian has somehow cuddled back into his chest at some point during the night. Oh, so that’s why his arm feels numb. He gives an experimental wiggle of his fingers and yup! Nothing. Grian is right on it.

He should try to get his arm free.

He looks at the sleeping avian, wanting to avoid waking him up. Pursing his lips, Scar slooowly pulls his arm free. Though Grian’s back is to him, he’s still watching him as he gets his arm free. He’s got to be careful about this, a grumpy Grian is not a Grian he wants to deal with first thing in the morning (though he knows he can defeat the grumpiness with plenty of Scar Approved Kisses). Plus… with how much Grian has been working lately, he wants him to be able to get as much sleep as he possibly can.

Oh no! He’s letting his thoughts get away from him, focus Scar, focus!

He turns his focus back to getting his arm free, slowly tugging it. He’s making good progress, he can see his elbow and Grian is still none the wiser, sleeping away. Good, good. Now he just has to continue to slowly pull his arm. Eventually he gets it free, and Scar grins in triumph. Perfect! He succeeded in getting his arm free and Grian is still asleep!

Though… Grian is still cuddled against him. Hm.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he pulls back a bit. He wants nothing more than to pull Grian close to him again and properly cuddle him, but he needs to feel his limbs first! And avoid a mouthful of hair.

Trying to avoid making the mattress move too much, Scar pulls back from Grian. But then he hears Grian stirring and he freezes. ‘Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up.’ He hears a little sleepy murmur from the other before he repositions his head and (hopefully) drifts back to sleep. It’s only when Scar hears Grian’s breathing even out that he relaxes.

Once there’s room between them, Scar lets himself appreciate how peaceful Grian looks while he’s asleep. He’s usually a bouncing ball of chaos, so Scar always takes moments like these to appreciate the calmness of the morning. There’s a small smile on his face as he looks at him.

That’s when Scar spots it.

It’s on Grian’s wings, specifically. Nestled within the red half of Grian’s wings are white feathers. Scar blinks at the sight in confusion, were Grian’s feathers always white like that? Gingerly, he takes a finger and lightly traces along the feathers with furrowed brows and a frown tugging at his lips. It’s almost like there’s little strips of the feathers that have been removed, and even some feathers are missing. “What?” Scar whispers to himself, continuing to trace the feathers.

There’s faint scarring on Grian’s wings, and Scar wonders where that came from. But before he can wander down any kind of hypotheticals, there’s a sleepy voice hitting his ears. “Sc’r?” His voice is still thick with sleep, gravelly and soft.

He freezes and lifts his gaze to see a freshly awakened Grian looking at him. He’s rubbing one of his eyes, head slightly lifted up from the pillow. “What’re y’doing?”

Hearing Grian’s sleepy voice has him melting, and he wants to do nothing more than tuck him close and cuddle him. But he can do that in a bit. “Your wings,” Scar starts as he pulls his hand away and repositions to rest his head beside Grian’s. “You’ve got some white feathers and faint scarring. Did someone hurt you?” He asks, concern dripping into his voice like honey.

“‘S fine, it didn’t hurt too bad. ‘M all healed up.” Grian replies, rolling over so he can bury his face into the crook of Scar’s neck. “Now no more questions. Wanna sleep.”

Scar forces out a chuckle, relenting. At least Grian is alright, despite how unpleasant the injury looks. “Alright G, you win. Back to sleep we go!” He says cheerfully, wrapping his arms snuggly around the smaller and resting his chin atop his head.

Even though Grian is alright, there’s still a part of him that worries. Who was it that hurt him?

“Scar!” Grian exclaims, landing beside him with a smile. Scar looks up from the little tree farm he’s got going on and smiles.

“Hey G!” He greets as he turns to him. “I hope you’ve got your axe ready, because we’re doing some chopping!” Scar exclaims, and Grian hums in response. He holds out his hand and a diamond axe appears in it.

He holds it up for Scar to see, “I’ve always got it ready. Though I hope we don’t do that much chopping. I’d hate to lose it.” He chuckles.

Taking a step back, Scar spins the axe around in his hand. “One should always be prepared to sacrifice their axe for the sake of a build, Grian.” He says, a relaxed smile on his face.

Though, that expression isn’t reflected on Grian’s face like it normally is. Instead, he’s taking a small step back from Scar, and his smile is strained. “Right…” Is all he responds with. “Well then, shall we get tree chopping?” He asks.

“We shall!” Scar exclaims, making a note of Grian’s face. That was odd. Maybe he’s got something on his mind? He pushes it to the back of his mind for now as he turns to the spruce tree in front of him and starts swinging. Grian watches him for a moment before getting to work himself, chopping at a tree near him.

Cutting down logs for wood is always a rather mindless task for Scar, it’s easy to get lost in the chopping motion and let his mind drift. It’s not something he has to put a lot of thought into. So he lets his thoughts trail all over, thinking about whatever comes to mind. The first thing is plans for his base, how he can expand upon it and what he can add to it. What else could he add? He’s got his farms, his portal, the wonderful railroad system.

More farms? Or – maybe he should add more storage. But more storage would mean more opportunities for him to misplace everything and suddenly his storage will be more of a chest monster than anything.

Well, maybe if he tries really hard…

“Scar, SCAR!” Grian shrieks and Scar is forcefully ripped from his thoughts as he turns to look at the other. Grian is squatting on the ground, hands over his head. His wings are tucked around him almost protectively, and he looks scared out of his wits.

“What?! What happened?!” Scar questions, running right over to him and crouching down beside him. His arms are extended toward him but not touching until he gets the okay to do so.

“Your uhm – your axe…” Grian shakily says, pointing over to the tree he had been chopping. Scar makes a confused noise in the back of his throat as he directs his gaze to Grian’s tree. Lodged into the wood is Scar’s axe rather than his hand and oh. That’s weird.

Turning to look at Grian, Scar offers him a sheepish smile and a little laugh, “Whoops, sorry about that G! Guess uh… my grip might’ve gotten a bit too relaxed when I was chopping.” He apologizes. Grian still looks a little nervous, his gaze unfocused and his body tense as if he expects to suddenly run.

“It’s – it’s fine.” Grian responds, voice still a bit trembly. He manages a shaky smile, and the sight of it makes Scar’s heart break. “You’re the only person I know to accidentally throw their axe while getting wood. If we had painted a target on the tree you would’ve gotten a bullseye!” He jokes weakly, and it’s so painfully obvious that he’s trying to avoid the elephant in the room.

And Scar laughs, not because he’s trying to help Grian avoid the topic, but because it’s a funny joke. “I don’t know, I think my aim might’ve been a bit rusty.” He says, not to avoid how tense Grian is, but to make the tension in his shoulders ease. He smiles when he sees the way Grian’s wings relax and his smile becomes a little less strained.

Next time he needs help getting wood, he’ll rope Joel into helping him.

+1.

Secrets don’t last forever. Either someone slips up and spills the beans, or they’re eventually shared, secrets aren’t kept. The cat gets let out of the bag at some point, and it’s up to the one trying to keep the secret to clean up the mess it leaves in its wake.

And in the case of Grian? Well, he makes a good attempt, but he can’t hide it forever.

Scar drops into his base with a prank and a request. The idea came to him while he was flying over and he found it absolutely genius! Grian is always going around pranking people, sneaking up on them and giving them a little spook, so why not give him a taste of his own medicine? Yes, it’s perfect! Scar has been giggling about it since the idea hit him.

He lands right outside Grian’s door, trying to quiet his snickering. He peeks his head around the corner, finding the coast clear. Perfect! Being as sneaky as possible, he enters Grian’s hobbit hole, keeping an eye out for the avian. He isn’t with his villagers, nor is he at his enchanting station. So where –

Scar hears a soft thump upstairs and grins. Perfect.

He heads for the stairs, trying to walk up them as quietly as possible. He avoids the creaky steps, knowing where to step and where not to step. And when he reaches the top of the staircase, he listens for a moment. He knows that Grian is upstairs, but where? He hears shuffling from the bedroom and he grins.

Continuing to sneak along, Scar makes his way to the door of Grian’s room. There he is! Scar’s eyes spark with mischief as he spots Grian, and it seems he’s in the middle of getting ready for the day. His back is to him, and in a rare moment, Scar catches him without his jumper on.

He almost wishes he hadn’t.

Resting in between Grian’s shoulder blades is a rather large scar. Without his jumper, he gets a clear view of it, even with Grian’s wings there. The skin of the scar is pink, and it covers from his left shoulder just about down to the middle of his back. It looks like two slashes crossing over one another, and Scar can’t look away from it.

And suddenly his mind starts putting the pieces together like a puzzle. The white hair and feathers, Grian’s sudden fear of axes, the scar that was most definitely not there before. Oh goodness, how could it have taken him this long to figure it out? Someone hurt Grian, hurt him bad enough to leave a scar and he’s been none the wiser about it. And… Grian hadn’t told him. In fact, it almost seems like Grian’s been hiding it from him.

He doesn’t realize that he’s standing right in the doorway, nor that Grian turns around and sees him. “Scar!” He jumps, startled. His voice snaps Scar out of his stupor, and he properly meets Grian’s eyes. Grian hastily tugs his jumper over his head, head popping out through the hole of the jumper. He quickly slips his arms through, and a few seconds later, his wings are free as well. He looks nervous as he looks at Scar, who hasn’t said a word yet. “How… how much did you see?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically small.

Oh, Grian is addressing him. He should say something, anything. He should give Grian a well thought out reply of some sort. Scar opens his mouth, “How long have you been hiding this from me?” Grian winces at the question, a guilty expression falling over his face and oh gosh that is so not what Scar wanted to start with! “I-I mean– Grian, someone hurt you, and I don’t even know how it happened, or when! Are you okay? Does anyone else know?” As he speaks, he’s drawing closer to the avian, arms outstretched to him.

“I…” Grian sighs softly, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then.” He furrows his brows, frowning. “Remember when you went cave exploring and we brought Timmy to the server?”

Scar hums, “Yes? You guys conquered a woodland mansion. But I don’t see how–” He cuts himself off, eyes widening in realization.

Grian nods, “We were doing pretty well until we reached the meeting room. I didn’t see the vindicator approaching me and well, I got caught off guard. It killed me.” He explains, which sends Scar’s heart racing.

“But! But you’re here! You’re standing right in front of me!” He exclaims, and Grian gives him a somber nod.

“I had help from Them.” He says simply, and that alone makes Scar want to tug Grian right to him and hide him away. It makes him want to do absolutely everything in his power to protect him, to keep him from getting hurt again. He’ll do anything if it means keeping Grian from those cursed beings. (It also makes him want to hunt down the vindicator that hurt him and give him a piece of his mind.) “I’ve got another shot at this challenge, and if I die again well…” He trails off and Scar fills in the blanks.

“Is that why you made a new base?” He asks, thinking back to the empty home he found when he first returned from his explorations.

“The timer completely reset. It’s only fair I start with absolutely nothing.” Grian manages a smile. “Though, I’m officially back at forty hours, so consider me all caught up.” His smile brightens, and Scar feels an explosion of warmth in his chest.

In a burst of affection, Scar tugs Grian to him, hugging him close. Grian squawks in surprise, not expecting it. Though, his arms come up to wrap around him and Scar hides his face in his hair. “So Joel and Jimmy know?” He asks quietly, and Grian nods against him. “Why… why didn’t you tell me, G?” His voice is so soft, nearly breaking with emotion. He’s a little hurt that Grian tried to hide his death from him. Things like this were meant to be shared between them, aren’t they?

“I didn’t want you to feel bad.” Grian admits, voice muffled against Scar’s jacket.

“What?”

“The whole reason we went to the mansion was to get more totems for you.”

Scar’s heart breaks all over again. His grip on Grian, impossibly kind hearted Grian, tightens and he squeezes his eyes shut as he presses a kiss to his head. “You didn’t have to do that.” He says.

He feels Grian shake his head against him, hands moving to grip onto the fabric of the back of Scar’s jacket as he presses himself closer. It’s quiet for a moment, Scar simply holding Grian against him. And then, “I guess even in this life I still want to see you live.” Grian quietly confesses and it hits Scar hard. It hits him so hard that he feels like he’s been punched in the chest, the wind knocked out of him.

Third Life is not something they talk about. It’s an almost mutual agreement between them. Although it had been the start of this new… relationship between them, they don’t talk about it. The scars are still too fresh, too new.

It feels like someone squeezes Scar’s heart.

There’s a silence between them until there isn’t. Grian breaks it suddenly with his peels of laughter, and Scar pulls away to blink at him. “What?” He asks, obviously confused.

Grian shakes his head, “It’s nothing just – I just realized that this is the first time that I’ve died before you have.” He laughs, and Scar can’t help but laugh along with him. And they’re laughing together, and Scar smiles.

“What a world, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.” He chuckles. He thinks back to the three totems of undying sitting in his barrels back at home, and gosh he’s never been so happy that he’s still got Grian here with him. “G.” He says.

“Hm?”

Scar gives him a soft smile, “I love you.”

Grian stares at him, simply blinking at him like an owl would. And Scar watches as the color slowly paints his cheeks at the sudden confession, his stare turning a bit bashful. But he smiles at Scar, “I love you too.” The words make Scar feel all warm and fuzzy and he’s crushing Grian in a hug again, making the avian laugh. “Oh, by the way, what did you come here for anyway?”

“Oh! I was going to try and steal some stuff again.” Scar answers with that cheerful tone of his, which sends Grian into a second laughing fit at his cheerful and casual admittance.

Scar laughs along with him, and he thinks that they’re going to be alright. In these worlds of death, he’d much rather have Grian at his side than anywhere else.

#THIS WAS 5K WORDS #I WAS POSSESSED #scarian #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #< for blacklist #100 hours hardcore #100 hours grian #100 hours gtws #joel smallishbeans #grian #gtws #mochi writes #rbs are appreciated!

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jamilelucato · 4 years ago

Text

Mine [F.W.]

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader;

summary: Fred suggests the unmissable proposal to pretend to be dating, but will it work?

warnings: fluffy but i know you all love it;

a/n: forgot to mention but the reader can be from any house (if you are one to believe that students from different houses can stay in other common rooms); again, this is for the A Very Harry Potter Christmas (day 8) with @whack-ed

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

When Fred came to you, three weeks ago, asking for your help, you said yes, because, frankly, it was pretty nice being the one the twins trusted to teach them new rare spells and charms.

However, three weeks ago, Fred didn’t ask for your help with spellcasting. He asked you to date him.

Okay, okay, fake date him. But still dating, so it was a surprise. You gasped for air, unsure of what to say next, unsure of how to continue. You stared at him, involuntarily tilting your head.

And you said yes. Honestly, you didn’t regret it — yet. Fred explained how you two would proceed, and your part came across pretty easy.

You had to smile at him during classes, and toss him notes. He was going to spend more time around you in the library, and you would join him in his and his twin’s pranks. Again, pretty simple stuff.

“And nobody can know?” your whispered echoed in the dark abandoned corridor.

Fred held his wand which had its tip light with Lumos closer to your face. He wanted to be sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about it.

“No one. Not even George,” he whispered back, hoping to sound serious. “That one can’t keep a secret, I’ll tell you that. And he’ll tell her.”

“Her?” you asked before you could hold yourself. When Fred and George asked for your help, and you agreed, you couldn’t ask questions. That was their primary rule, but you were so curious...

“Angelina,” he said her name in a tender whisper and part of you felt jealous. Not of Fred — Godric, no — but of the fact that Angelina had someone like her. And nobody liked you in, what? Forever?

“Is this all for her?” you asked politely, moving your own wand towards the two of you, who, now thinking, were closer than needed in the dim passageway.

Fred gulped. Yeah, he fancied Angelina. George knew. Now, you knew too. But he didn’t like to say it, and he hated when people mentioned, particular because she didn’t like him back.

“So when do we start?” you asked after a moment in silence after Fred refused to confirm he liked the Gryffindor chaser.

Fred’s head rested over your lap while you carelessly ran your fingers through his ginger locks, in one of the opaquest couches available in Gryffindor’s common room.

It wasn’t the first time you two could be found in this position. Although you generally preferred to be the one laying down — you loved when people in general played with your hair —; when Fred walked in you were already sitting, so he was left to be the one to lie down.

Three weeks of fake-dating had gone by, and you couldn’t believe it. At first, the days seemed to be going down slowly, as you had to force interactions with the twin. But after the end of the first week, when Fred met you with the offer to walk around the school holding your hand, the relationship came to be easier to tolerate and the days started going by really fast.

Fake-dating Fred was effortless because Fred was a good friend. That wasn’t much of a surprise — you knew Mrs Weasley had raised her children well — but the fact that he was an exceptional joker and a funny chap was a bonus you weren’t expecting.

He would’ve been a nice first boyfriend if he had been in fact your first boyfriend.

Thankfully, people were buying the relationship with no problem — you even heard Ginny saying it was inevitable. You two didn’t even need to kiss in front of the students for them to believe. Well, you did have to endure some physical contact (like what you were doing right now with his head over your lap), but that was surprisingly rather enjoyable.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Fred asked all of the sudden after Godric knew how long you two had stayed cosy in front of the fire.

“I’m going to Hogsmeade to buy some Christmas presents,” you answered, looking down to meet his gaze. He seemed peaceful and calm when he had your fingers intertwined in his hair. “Wanna come?” you invited him to enjoy your little trip — a corner of your mind remembering that he was allegedly your boyfriend; therefore, he should escort you.

“Sure,” he smiled, but you were almost sure that it was because you moved your fingers and not because he was much excited to Hogsmeade. “Have to buy some myself.”

George spotted you two in the couch, comfortable together — as he was already used to finding you two — and he joined in the conversation.

“Plans for tomorrow?” he asked, sitting down in the sofa next to your left.

“Hogsmeade,” was Fred’s simple reply. You found it super cool how he didn’t even need to get up to know the voice belonged to his twin.

That was another thing being in a sham relationship with Fred made you improve: differentiating Fred from George. Not that three weeks earlier, you were terrible, but you were undoubtedly not the best one for the job. Now, you had no problem at all.

“Oh, perhaps I’ll see you two around,” George smiled, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled back at him, pleased to know that he still liked you even though you supposedly had his twin’s tongue in your mouth often. George didn’t know the truth, obviously, but even so... You wondered how long would take the twin to found out Fred was lying about his love life. “I have a date,” added George, noticing that he should elaborate.

“Wow, Georgie, how nice!” you kept your smile, this time only shaking your head positively so he could know you were genuinely happy.

Fred seemed delighted too, stretching his neck over your lap for just an opportunity to see his twin without having to get up.

“Good luck,” wished Fred. “Although she can’t be pretty as my girl, I hope yours is at least cute.”

You looked down at Fred, meeting his gaze before nudging his head slightly out of your lap. If you two were indeed dating, instead of pushing, you would’ve kissed him — and, oh, the urge to do so was strong, but you reminded yourself that he was just following his act.

George watched your interaction with joy in his eyes. He was happy for his brother for finally finding someone to utterly understand him — and he had other reasons too, but they didn’t matter now.

“You two are so cute, ” George said, before getting up. Fred hadn’t even noticed that his twin was still there — so much he was distracted with your attempt of being embarrassed. Deep down, Fred was acknowledging that more than often, you were managing to truly distract him from his surroundings.

“I’ll leave you two with some privacy,” said George before finally leaving.

You and Fred exchanged looks again, and then both burst into laughter, not believing George honestly had let that out.

“He seems more romantic,” you pointed out, starting to play with Fred’s hair again.

Fred shifted — you felt his body melt at your touch again.

“Perhaps it’s this new girl, ” Fred shrugged. He came off as unable to care deeply when your fingers ran through his scalp.

“I don’t think she’s much new,” you said, thinking more to yourself how George always appeared to be the more romantic of the twins.

“Which one do you think Ginny would like more?” Fred asked, holding what seemed to be two same shirts for you, who had no basic sense of how to tell Quidditch teams apart.

“Which one is she fan of?” you asked, deciding to not mention to Fred that you were terrible with teams.

Fred sighed. “Both,” he replied, knowing deep down that his sister would like any of the shirts, but he just wanted to get her the perfect one.

“Well, I’d pick this one,” you took a loop of faith, pointing to the shirt with your favourite colour. Fred stared at the one you aimed and then smiled, suddenly realizing you had no idea which team was each.

“I’ll go with your suggestion,” he then said, leaving the other shirt behind and heading to the cashier. You were glad he was over with the Quidditch Supplies store — you really had no interest in being there longer than necessary.

To be fair with Fred, he was being a very charming companion in the Hogsmeade trip, and he had even paid you a hot chocolate mug. Since students were bumping with you two all the time, the dating facade was still up and so, he was holding your hand around the village.

It was probably the first time since the whole thing started that you actually felt nervous about making physical contact with Fred. Perhaps it was because this trip (and the Christmas shopping thing) felt too personal, but you couldn’t be sure.

Well, actually, you didn’t want to be sure. You couldn’t have feelings for Fred — period.

“Did you buy everything you wanted?” you asked Fred, a couple of hours later, because you were a bit tired of walking around, pilling up bags of gifts. But you didn’t want to be the one to admit.

“Huh, yes,” he answered, after checking out the bags he held. “Three Broomsticks?”

Shaking your head in an affirmative, you repositioned your own plastic bags while Fred waited for you, with his hand stretched. You swallowed hard a second before you felt the touch of it — although perhaps the high temperature was the fault of the gloves you both wore.

Why the hell could you feel an electric shock when touching him when there were literally layers of tissue separating both of you?

Fred walked in first, holding the door up for you, and, as you walked in, he offered to take your bags himself. You tried to protest, but he was very determined about it, and you were glad to be free of the extra weight.

It was then you saw George, sitting in a table not far away from the entrance. He was laughing cutely because the girl with him had gotten herself a moustache made of butterbeer.

Oh, and the girl was Angelina Johnson.

“Fred?” you called his name, unsure of what to do, but you definitely needed to take Fred away from there. He looked up from the bags on the floor. “Let’s go back to the castle; we can drink butterbeer later.”

Fred frowned, confused with why you changed your mood. “I’ll grab it really fast, [y/n], don’t worry.”

“No, Fred, I want to go back,” you tried to be firm.

“[y/n], nonsense; why...?” but he never finished his question. Instead of focusing on your face as he was doing before, he focused on what was happening behind you.

And behind you, George and Angelina were having the time of their lives.

“Fred?” this time you called his name in a lower voice, scared of what his reaction. Well, or the lack of it, since he seemed frozen in time. “Freddie?”

The ginger boy shook his head as if he was getting rid of a bad taste in his throat. He finally met your eyes, and although he wasn’t exactly smiling, he didn’t look sad either.

“Sure you don’t want that butterbeer?” he asked, surprising you because or a) he was being very mature about the whole Angelina thing or b) he was hiding his feelings.

“Let’s get out of here,” you replied, not allowing him to suggest anything else since you took most of the bags on the floor and opened the door of the pub again.

If George noticed you two had walked in on his date, he never mentioned.

You didn’t stop walking — and hoped Fred was doing the same — until you were back at the train station and inside one to get back to Hogwarts. Since the trip was quick, trains were coming and going all the time, and with a look at your wristwatch, you knew that the next one was leaving in just ten minutes.

It was only when you sat down that you decided to face Fred again, who, unbelievably still had the same expression on: neutral.

“Okay. Can we talk about what we just saw?”

“My twin on a date?” Fred raised a brow, his expression shifting to confusion, but there was no sign of anger on it.

“Your twin on a date with Angelina,” you corrected the boy, turning your whole body to face him. It was comfy because the bags were no longer in your hands, making every move extreme.

“Oh, that.”

“That, Fred. Aren’t you... angry? Disappointed? Anything?” you asked. You were supposed to be handling this calmly, but his lack of emotion was annoying your guts.

“George’s happy, so I’m happy. It’s that simple, actually,” Fred shrugged, avoiding your eyes for the first time that day.

“It’s not simple. You like her, Freddie,” you stated what should’ve been obvious for him.

Fred sighed, shrinking in his cushioned seat. He had been avoiding that talk, and it was not just since he saw his twin with Angelina.

He has been noticing his feelings for Angelina had changed, but he couldn’t point out how it changed, and why it did. He figured it was because of you, but that made no sense in his mind.

You weren’t supposed to be his type. You were nerdy and an avid reader (and read for fun, which he could never understand). You didn’t know anything about Quidditch, so you stayed away from the sport. You thought long before you acted, which was so different from him, who was always more emotion than reason.

Honestly, he didn’t even understand how he managed to keep his friendship with you for so many years. Of course, Fred was grateful to be your friend — after all, you had a questionable sense of humour that always fascinated the ginger, and even though you were afraid of being caught for it, you never denied help to him and his brother when a prank needed.

He knew that something could change in the dynamics of the two of you when he suggested being your fake boyfriend, but he didn’t think that the change would turn the relationship into something so much better.

Fred stared back at you, having no idea of what to say to you. He was afraid of rejection. And this time his fear seemed more potent than anything he ever felt before.

“I don’t like her anymore,” he simply said, still focused on your beautiful eyes.

His answer confused you. “Well, then why are we still dating?”

You noticed when you forgot to add the word “fake” in your sentence, but you were so done with that word that you shook that thought away.

“I don’t know,” Fred sighed, looking down at his hands over his lap.

You stared at him, not being able to believe the guy. You had lost three weeks for a boy that didn’t know what he was doing? Three weeks that you could have invested in finding a real boyfriend?

Your hands reached for your plastic bags, and as soon as the train stopped, you ran out of it.

“[y/n]!” you heard Fred call you, but you didn’t dare look back.

“Didn’t see you and [y/n] in Hogsmeade. Did you guys leave early?” George asked when he sat down next to his twin in the common room.

He had walked Angelina back to her dorm, and he decided to see if his twin was still around. George was never one to brag, but he really needed to vent to someone about how happy he was that he could finally be with the girl he wanted because Fred didn’t fancy her anymore.

Fred looked up to his other half and pressed his lips tight against one another. If he didn’t tell George, he would find out later, and he wouldn’t be happy.

“We broke up,” Fred simply said, biting his nails.

George’s eyes widened as he stared at his twin and he gulped nervously, not knowing how to proceed. His happiness was suddenly gone.

Fred didn’t get over Angie, and, once again, George would’ve to step away, leaving the path over to his twin. Damn it, George told himself, I really thought [y/n] was the one for him.

“Can I ask why?” George was still holding on to his hope.

“She...” Fred started, but he didn’t know if that was the right way to say it. “I...” he corrected himself, but it still sounded off. “Well, we weren’t really dating.”

George raised his brows. How come you weren’t really dating? Thinking about it now, I never saw them kissing, George reminded himself. But the way they looked at each other, the way Fred melts at her touch... How [y/n] blushes when Fred praises her... You two looked like a real couple for George.

“It was one of my stupidest ideas, but I went with it, and now I’ve lost a friend,” Fred complained, staring at his twin, hoping George had a solution. But the younger twin was as lost as Fred. “I was so dumb!”

“Fake-dating is always a dumb idea,” George pointed out, relaxing once again.

So Fred does fancy her, he though. But he screwed up.

It wasn’t like Fred could tell George the real reason behind why he suggested dating to you, but he could spin around the truth.

“I had a reason behind the whole thing, I just wasn’t expecting [y/n] to become more important to me than my initial reason,” explained Fred, sighing.

“I was. I mean, I would’ve,” George said, making Fred stare at him with confusion. “You always seemed to have a thing for her. I don’t know, perhaps just attraction?”

George saw that Fred was still lost, so he continued.

“Like, did you really need her to teach you Aguamenti for that prank on Filch two months ago? We had just learned it with Flitwick,” George used the first example that popped in his mind. “Or when you wanted to prank McGonagall so she would believe you were Dumbledore — you’re gonna tell me you didn’t know how to prepare a Polyjuice Potion?”

Fred gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. His twin was right — he never needed guidance with those simple spells and potions, but he ran for your help at any chance he had. Only now he knew it was because he wanted to be around you.

He reached for one of the cushions over the red couch and screamed on it. George found the scene hilarious.

“I’m screwed!”

It was the Sunday after the Hogsmeade trip, and even though every cell on your body wished to stay in bed, you knew that deep down you had no real reason to be mad and to feel heartbroken.

Your involvement with Fred was fake, and it was bound to be over from the beginning. You, better than all people, should know it. So there was no reason to stay curled up in bed, moaning about it.

But even if you knew you were bound to see Fred around the school, you weren’t expecting him to be outside of your common room entrance, as if he was expecting you to come out.

“Fred?” you had no idea why you said his name in that tone of surprise. Down, you knew he would come looking for you as soon as he had another prank planned.

His face lightened up when he heard his name coming from your lips. After his long talk with his twin last night, he started noticing you did, in fact, have a strong power over him, one that even you didn’t seem aware of.

“We went Christmas shopping yesterday, and I never gave you your gift,” he said, explaining himself, answering the question you didn’t dare ask.

“It’s not Christmas,” you said, a bit too quickly, “yet.”

“But it’s soon to be,” he raised a brow, stepping away from the wall he was leaned in and handing you a small box.

“How come I didn’t see you buy it?”

“Because I can be very sneaky when I want to,” he smiled. It was so easy for him to be happy around you.

“Hm,” his answer didn’t convince you, but you opened the box anyway, finding a beautiful golden necklace inside.

It had a small pendant on it — an initial, his initial. The golden “F” sparkled in your hands.

“Fred, wow,” the jewel made you speechless — you knew Fred wasn’t rich and you were almost sure that it was very expansive. “I can’t accept it, Freddie — we’re not dating anymore.”

Fred stopped your hands with his before you could return the necklace.

“I bought it for you.”

“It has your initial on it,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I hoped to mark you as mine,” he smirked, deciding to be bold about the situation.

“We’re not dating,” you said, swallowing down your wish to forget that detail.

“But do you want to?”

His question echoed in the passageway, but thankfully no one was around to disturb. You stared at the ginger, not believing he could actually be proposing what you heard.

“Fred...” you started, reminding yourself not to panic.

“I lied yesterday on the train. Not about Angelina — I do not fancy her,” he explained himself, stepping closer to you. “I lied about why I didn’t end or fake-relationship earlier. I didn’t do it because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else, making plans with another boy, holding hands with another guy.”

You gulped, but Fred didn’t seem ready to stop talking.

“I’ve never been as happy as I was during those three weeks you faked liking me,” he continued. “And being away from you will be the death of me. Please don’t turn the school prankster in the school bore,” of course he had to finish his charming speech with some cheeky sentence.

You couldn’t help but giggle, moving closer to him as well.

“I like you too, you idiot,” you smiled, holding tighter the jewel with just one hand.

“So... we’re dating again,” he smirked. “Only this time, I’m allowed to do this.”

Then, tugging you by the waist, he caught your lips in a kiss that would come to be the first of many.

#fred weasley #Fred and George #fred weasley x reader #george and fred #Fred and George Weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #a very harry potter christmas #harry potter #hp #fred x reader

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jemichi90 · 5 months ago

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Thank you! I had a great time! ^^

Don't sell yourself short! From what I've seen in these responses alone, you are VERY good at noticing things and connecting them to existing ideas or exploring alternate possibilities. You've made several points that forced me to reconsider my theories to see if they still work with those ideas. And while that may not have changed my mind, it made my theories evolve and improve by adding more details to them. Something that I'm always excited about!

But yeah, this is literally me when it comes to Don't Starve! xD

Have you been in the fandom since the beginning? If not, well, let's just say that I've had some time to think about all this (ever since I got into the lore in 2013). Every update just adds more fuel to the fire with the little hints that can be found all over the place (although I wasn't active in the fandom for several years until I returned in 2022, so I had to do my own share of catching up then).

Still, I'm not claiming I'm necessarily right about any of this stuff. It's just the conclusion I've reached, and Klei could easily prove me wrong any day.

And no worries about not covering every point I made, or rambling about something else in your responses. I literally did just that myself in my previous response, and will probably do it again! Just say whatever you want to!

And if I misunderstand a point you made, feel free to correct me and elaborate further on the matter. I don't mind at all. ^^

It's a pity that my computer is a potato so I can't actually go to explore the caves myself in-game, so I have to rely on reading character quotes. But you are right, Maxwell is certainly unfamiliar with the Archives. The rest of the caves are familiar to him and he mentions some things he's done there previously. Obviously we have very little lore explaining the Archives as of yet (I hear that Klei is currently working on a big cave update, so perhaps we'll get some more this fall), but I wonder if these were the ”previous Ancients” - the generation from the Ancient Fuelweaver's time. Clearly they worshipped Alter, which didn't seem to be the case with the Ancients that we have some lore of. But I guess they could have just had different religions among them, and the moon worshippers lived separately from the ones that got consumed by the nightmare fuel.

That wouldn't explain why they are also gone if they didn't mess with the nightmare fuel though, which is why I suspect they already existed and died before that generation, leaving Alter as a forgotten deity. But all of that is a pure guess for now.

Oh yes, I remember those mirrors too! I remember wondering if Maxwell used the mirror in his apartment as an entrance to the Constant – or whatever world he was in when he was watching Charlie through the portrait. But while that may be true, mirrors have certainly gained a new meaning since then, and I will keep my eye on them in the updates to come as well.

Which also brings my mind back to another mystery I haven't solved as of yet, assuming there is a deeper reason for it; why did Maxwell scribble over all the faces of William in photos? Or if Maxwell didn't do that, then who did? Because the portrait he was using as a window normally had William on it, and his face wasn't scribbled over when he returned to his apartment. But a bit later it had been scribbled over just like the many photos we've seen of him... I doubt it's just a case of him hating who he used to be, but something more sinister... It gives me ideas, but nothing that has any evidence to support it...

I always wondered if Metheus IS Them, or at least a part of Them, since Metheus and Charlie seem to be a package deal now and there is certainly more of Them. Maybe that entire generation ”lost their heads” and ended up becoming corrupted and joining Them.

I do think that Metheus is a victim as well, rather than the origin of Them, so the dark mastermind that transformed all these poor, tortured souls into nightmare goop still remains a mystery... But the shape of the Crawling Horrors and Terrorbeaks does resemble that of the Ancients (as seen with the more corrupted statues). Someone pointed out that the monster meat even has a similar shape (take those implications as you will). Which leads me to believe that the shadow monsters are all remnants of that Ancient civilization, but they've completely lost their identities and memories and anything resembling sentience. Most of them, that is.

Speaking of the Ancients, I remembered noticing something curious from back when I was writing my fic. Looking at the statues revealed that the more corrupted ones seemed to be somewhat covered in hair (as well as nightmare fuel of course) – similar to what happens with rabbits or bunnymen with insanity, although obviously petrified in this case, which is a strange detail for a race that resembles insects or lobsters, but that's what I gathered from zooming in on the images. The corruption certainly causes some physical transformation / mutation to happen even before ”shedding their skins”...

It's funny and sort of cute how much Maxwell clearly loved his monsters and how proud he is for the ones he created. I wonder if he created the Ancient Guardian as well or if he was a being that already existed when he arrived. I think that most of the creatures on the surface were Maxwell's design, and the corruption mainly affects creatures underground (think of the monkeys for example). Rabbits are likely affected because they burrow underground. Which would explain why the Dragonfly is fine. The "nightmare cycles" only happen underground causing the creatures in the caves / ruins to corrupt and mutate. The cave entrances were probably sealed to keep it from spreading any further. Must have been some desperate times... And again, Maxwell had been in the caves, and he confirms that he was the one that closed the entrances...

I'm thinking of the rock lobsters too. Maxwell says he banished them there for a reason, and I really wish he'd elaborate on that. xD

Also, if Klei specified that Maxwell was the first human on the Throne, that certainly leaves the idea of the endless cycle open. Maxwell was likely the first human in that whole world! They have likely been dragging beings from other worlds / dimensions there for ever and ever... But that makes me wonder how did the Codex Umbra end up on Earth. But the key to that is more likely related to Wagstaff and his experiments, one way or another. I'll just leave it at that for now, since I know way more about Maxwell than him.

And yes, the cycle with the Gate is definitely letting Them escape – little piece at a time in the form of nightmare fuel and pure horror as you pointed out... It's very similar to what happened in the murals. Using the shadow magic allowed more and more of the entity to leak through until all the seals were broken and it started running wild and leaving devastation in its wake... I sincerely believe the Fuelweaver with those warnings of an impending disaster... >_<

And I see what you meant now, and it makes a lot of sense! If you've seen my post-Throne Maxwell art, you know that I tend to draw him with the darkened, clawed hands myself. I thought of it more as corruption followed by being directly linked to Them through the Throne attached to his arms and legs and probably getting nightmare fuel basically injected directly to his veins to keep him alive for an eternity while he's unable to leave his seat to do things like... well... eat. Powered by nightmares alone until that connection is severed... But his hands are indeed pale there. I always wondered if they got drawn black later because he covered them with gloves, but there is no conclusive evidence. Your theory is plausible though, and goes well together with that idea of the Ancient Fuelweaver being basically his future when more and more of his body gets replaced by shadow goop...

No matter what was happening or about to happen to Maxwell's body on the Throne, we certainly saw what it was doing to his mind pretty clearly. His projection that appears in the beginning of each chapter keeps getting more and more distorted and inhuman. Clearly Maxwell was forgetting how to human, and his grip on even his own appearance was slipping. He was just about to lose himself to Them...

Which is another thing I like to talk about, even when it's a very old theory, but it probably started all THIS (gestures at the entire post) for me, as I figured that the Adventure Mode Maxwells are either an extra detailed shadow puppet, or more likely, a projection of Maxwell's mental image of himself displayed in the dreams of the player character, because he only appeared when the character was lying down on the ground unconscious, and vanished as soon as they got up. In the epilogue you can see one next to the real Maxwell without being knocked out though (if you try to use the portal there), which is interesting. But that's likely possible because Maxwell himself is in the same room. Just a little bit of something to think about. xD

Yeah, the rose is such a huge red flag! Wendy was even following the trail of petals to the cave, and turned out they weren't from Abigail's flower, so we know which flower shedded those petals... >_<

And we'll definitely need to wait for a while for that update, since it should be the last one of the series of skilltree updates, and likely comes with massive lore! But I'll enjoy the ride no matter how long it takes. I've already been here for 10+ years, I can wait some more. ^^

I pretty much explained the thought I had for the rose. There were some additional possibilities in my mind, like maybe Charlie is vanishing, leaving only the shadow half haunting the night. But seeing that the rose had two flowers and both of them were nearly destroyed makes me think that whatever fate awaits Charlie, awaits both of them...

okay OP, in your recent art you mentioned that "you will explain if needed" and gave a detailed explanation of what might have happened (to Charlie and Maxwell).

I'd LOVE to hear more of your thoughts, and the "explanation" that you said you'd provide (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

ps i really like your art.

Oh! Hello there! 👀

And yes indeed I did. Alright then, get ready for the brainrot. xD

For a long time I've thought that Charlie died and came back wrong, and in the recent updates there have been several things hinting at it.

Here is a list of the ones I can remember right now:

Maxwell says ”There's a story behind that...” when inspecting a touch stone.

After the recent update, the ”dark side” Winona can sense traces of Charlie on the touch stone, confirming it's related to her (the quotes vary).

In the Encore animated short, there is a brief flashback of Charlie with the Ancient Fuelweaver behind her, and then her Chess piece is seen falling and sinking inside a black square on the board - some heavy symbolism there, sparing us from the gory details, I guess...

In Charlie's stageplay, the doll that represents her breaks, but she's brought back to life by the Mirror (Them?) - alive but different, as she says.

And then there are things that fall more into the headcanon territory, until more evidence comes up that either proves or debunks those ideas entirely, but I'll explain those as well, since they heavily influece my art inspiration.

I subscribe to the idea that the two characters in the ancient murals represent Maxwell and Charlie themselves in their early years in the Constant (but depicted by the locals that were unfamiliar with human anatomy). Time moves differently in that world so it could have been thousands of years ago, but the two made contact with the locals and briefly improved their life through the use of Their magic – until it backfired and the entity that must have been sealed for a reason broke free. Assuming the character with the torch really is Charlie, she died protecting Maxwell from the consequences of his own mistakes. In the final mural image, only her cracked head can be seen.

Another headcanon I have comes from the fact that one of shadow Charlie's arms seems to be entirely made of shadows (curiously, there are also arm bones attached to the touch stone, although they could have belonged to a pigman too, like the heads), so I think that whatever happened to her basically shattered her to pieces, and some pieces may still be missing - like that arm. But details like this are only a headcanon for now.

This also falls in the time period between 1906 and 1910-ish, when apparently some crazy stuff happened that Klei hasn't showed us much about – yet (according to their own post some years ago). ^^

So based on all this, my idea is that Maxwell summoned the Fuelweaver (as seen in the murals), but he messed up big time and Charlie got caught in the crossfire trying to protect Maxwell. She died a gruesome death (that may have torn her to pieces even more brutally than in my drawing). Maxwell in his desperation made the touch stone in a hurry (which is why it looks so rough compared to all his other constructs), carried what was left of Charlie there, and made a deal with Them to bring Charlie back to life no matter the cost. And they did. They just didn't bring her back exactly like she used to be, and she would probably fall to pieces and die instantly if she was separated from the entity that she now shares the body with...

I think Maxwell had been able to move freely in the Constant (maybe even out of it, based on his disappearances earlier) until then, but deals like that come with a price, so he lost his freedom and became Their tool (sold his soul to save Charlie?). Or something like that anyway.

There are also the parallels between Charlie and Abigail with their connection to their special flowers, as highlighted in the newest animated video. Charlie just might be another ghost inside a flower herself, but thanks to Them, she got to keep her body, or at least a form that resembles her body.. But I prefer to think that her actual broken body is still a part of the deal, as messed up as that is. We already know that They can keep a body that should have died a long time ago alive for an eternity, thanks to Maxwell. When he was released from the Nightmare Throne and time caught up to him, he didn't just die, he turned to a skeleton that crumbled to dust in an instant..! That's some old corpse, but he'd been conscious all that time because They wouldn't let him die.

So yeah, these happy thoughts inspired that piece. I might draw more about that if I still feel like it later. :D

#reply #3447 #thank you for your input once again #you have a clever mind #which makes me excited to talk about the possibilities #OrangE mentioned me in a very unflattering context but I took it as a compliment #I consider it an achievement #and he was not wrong #looking at this post I'm a pretty good example of the community brainrot indeed #but I wouldn't have it any other way #more fun #long post is long #don't starve #theory #theories #maxwell #charlie #JeMiChi talking #the brainrot intensifies

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Is there any way we could possibly convince you to write more of the Eldritch!Danny au? As it's own phanfic? This, of course, would only be done once you are under considerably less stress, and can comfortably put the effort into that, if there ever could be such a time whilst writing Mortified and Stars Aligned. It could even wait until one or both of those has reached a point that you deem them Completed™. I'm just immediately part of Sam's Cult XD

It’s been a bit, and this is kind of random, but...

Clockwork’s avatar pressed the food to Danny’s lips, and he bit down, hard. Juices dribbled down his chin as the food squirmed. He moaned in something like relief as the pressure in the venom sacs in the roof of his mouth lessened. He ate.

He kept Dreaming of himself with fangs and venom. Did that mean something?

A cold pressure under his chin forced him to look up. Clockwork’s avatar inserted another piece of food into Danny’s mouth.

Of course, it means something, it said. You are such a generous soul that you must give of yourself before you can even do something as basic and vital as eat.

Something about that didn’t sound right, but Danny wasn’t in a position to argue, not when he found himself so hungry.

Clockwork’s avatar fussed over him, feeding him more and more, past the point of mere satiation to the point where he felt bloated and slug-like. He wanted to curl up and sleep real sleep. The image of a caterpillar who, having gorged itself, began to form a cocoon, flittered across his mind.

You are a long way from metamorphosis yet, dear one, said Clockwork’s avatar. Come. I have something for you.

Danny followed the tug of the chained collar around his neck, blinking blearily, his footsteps just a little unsteady.

The careful direction of the chain led him to a small table cluttered with trinkets. Clockwork’s avatar leaned down to press its cheek against the crown of Danny’s head. Its cloak fell to either side of Danny, cutting off his field of view to the left and right, leaving him with only the table and the wall behind it.

A gift, said Clockwork’s avatar.

“Why?” asked Danny. It felt odd to speak here, and much more so in English, but he was still learning how to use his True Voice.

I wanted to give you something myself, before we celebrate your birthday.

“My birthday is ages away,” said Danny.

From some perspectives, perhaps. But we missed so many of yours. We must make them up before the next one.

There was something ominous there, but Danny just leaned into the avatar’s touch, unwilling to devote himself to interpreting omens.

Pick one, said Clockwork’s avatar, pick wisely. Gifts received in the Dream become part of you.

Danny nodded and opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to look at the trinkets—no, the gifts—again. Gifts that, like all good gifts, came with strings attached.

There was something off about that thought.

But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he could refuse a gift.

He reached out.

He picked the beaded pectoral necklace. Mostly because he was curious to see how it went on, what with the collar around his neck and all. Yes, this was the Dream, and multiple things could exist in the same place at the same time, but usually there was an… internal consistency, of sorts.

It turned out the answer was that the necklace merged with the bottom edge of the collar, which felt weird, but it was fine, because both were manifestations of Clockwork’s Love.

The unfamiliar weight of it hung strangely off his shoulders, especially given the counterweight that hung down his back, and forced him to alter his posture. He stood straight and… Well. Not tall. But to his full height.

Clockwork’s ticking sounded pleased. An echo of something where Danny’s heart once was agreed with that assessment.

When he left the Dream and went on with his life, it seemed as if not much had changed, except—

He felt more confident. More coordinated. He didn’t stutter as much. People listened to him more.

Even Sam and Tucker remarked on it.

Only a few days later, Clockwork called him back, reeling him into the deep Dream by the chain attached to his collar. He had another gift for Danny. A bracelet. Its weight joined that of the necklace.

Since you seemed to enjoy this so much, said the avatar, running its fingers over the faience beads.

And so it went.

Every few days, Clockwork would call him back and give him some new little adornment. A ring. A jeweled comb. An anklet. A brooch. A belt. Each gift seemed to smooth away some almost imperceptible flaw in his waking self, seemed to draw more eyes to him, more attention, more praise. People who would never give him the time of day before actually sought out his company.

He wondered. Each thing he was given was a display of wealth. Did that come across, somehow? Or was it simply gravity, the mass of his presence pulling in their regard?

The improvements weren’t just in his human life. The others were easier to fight, to distract and ward away. Their blows did not hurt nearly as much, nor did their ‘appearances’ distress him as much as they once had.

He noticed, too, the weight of what he wore in the Dream. Each ring, each bauble, made it easier for him to sink into the depths, made it harder for him to reach the surface.

Sometimes, after a return, he would like on the floor in his room, panting.

But he was growing stronger, too, and he hoped—

It didn’t matter what he’d hoped.

He could no longer reach the waking world. He tried seven times before the chain, vibrating with amusement, pulled him back to Clockwork.

We must celebrate, said Clockwork’s avatar, pulling a sort of woven metal sleeve over Danny’s right hand. It hooked neatly onto the rings on each of his fingers.

“Why?” asked Danny, barely holding himself back from falling to pieces. He had a responsibility to Amity Park. Not to mention, he wanted to live there with his friends and family.

Because it is a wonderful milestone, that you are too powerful to reach that place on your own. The avatar placed a crown of knotted metal on Danny’s head. This is what a cult is for, my little gem. To pull you up.

“What if…” said Danny, “I get too… heavy to be pulled up?”

Another milestone.

Except, no, Danny’s hand still hovered over the table, undecided. He let it fall back to his side and blinked, shaking his head to clear it of the vision that had just overtaken him.

Did it show what would be, what might have been? Or merely a possibility?

Reality splintered.

He put his hand down on a stack of folded white cloth, jostling the bells sewn to the hems. He didn’t actually know what it was, but it seemed harmless, and the fabric was soft.

It turned out that the cloth was a set of folded veils. The bells were weights, to make them hang properly.

Clockwork’s avatar helped him put them on in front of a mirror, since Danny had never worn anything like them before. The cloth was thin, diaphanous gauze. Where the veils touched the clothing he was already wearing, it whispered away, like it never was. In some places, mostly on his shoulders and back, for some reason, the veils merged smoothly, seamlessly, with his skin. It was an odd sensation, made more so by the fact that his nerve endings seemed to extend partway into the cloth.

Although, that might not be by design, but because Danny expected it. This was the Dream, after all.

Once all the veils were in place, the only pieces of his body exposed were his hands and bare feet. It was strange, looking at himself in the mirror through the sheer veils over his face and head. He almost looked like a ghost.

It was… it was kind of embarrassing, being dressed like this. The veils were the only things he was wearing, and even with all their frothy layers, he could make out the silhouette of his body beneath them.

He spun in place, just enough to hear the bells ring with high, clear tones. Like this, the subtle embroidery on the veils looked like feathers.

When he woke again, normal clothes felt rough and coarse against his skin in comparison. He gritted his teeth and bore it. He couldn’t very well walk to school in the nude.

“Did something happen last night?” asked Sam, surveying Danny up and down.

“Um,” said Danny, “yes, but why?”

“You look…”

“Mysterious,” said Tucker.

“Ethereal,” decided Sam. “But also…” She hummed. “Untouchable, maybe? I don’t know.”

Danny explained what had happened.

It was in the course of just messing around that they found another effect.

“Dude,” said Tucker, as Danny sat on his shoulders, “did you lose weight or something?”

“No?” said Danny, turning away from his sticky-note masterpiece on the classroom ceiling. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“You just seem a lot lighter than the last time we did this.”

They weighed him later, at Sam’s house. He was.

The next time he visited the dream, there were changes. One, the sensation in the cloth had extended. He could feel almost all the way to the ends of some of the shorter veils. Two, his form beneath the veils was less distinct. Softer. When he put his hand underneath them to check, his body felt softer, too. Three, he was glowing.

Of course, said Clockwork’s avatar, stroking its cold hand down his back in a way that made all of his new nerve endings overload. As the illusion fades, the truth may shine.

It did not elaborate, no matter how Danny pressed him. It did, however, pet him until he was left as little more than a pleasantly chirping puddle of veils and feathers on Clockwork’s floor.

He did not note the significance of the feathers until his next visit to the Dream, whereupon some of his veils had become wings, bells still attached and ringing with every motion. He spread them out and flew.

Flying was even better than he had imagined. Never before had he known such joy.

The changes continued, the form he wore in the waking world becoming progressively more and more alien to him, more grating and uncomfortable.

“That only makes sense,” said Sam. “You’re more than us. Being constrained like this can’t be good for you.”

Tucker nodded in agreement. “I mean, look at all of this.”

Danny looked around the cafeteria, catching several worshipful gazes.

“You don’t belong in a cage like this.”

“I want to be able to help,” said Danny. It had become easier, in some ways. It was as hard as ever to fight the others, but human aggression stopped dead in Danny’s presence.

“You’ll still be able to,” said Sam. “But Tucker’s right, you should be trapped here. You should in a high place… on a pedestal. Somewhere to give us hope. Somewhere we can look up to.”

He stood in front of Clockwork’s mirror again. There was a suggestion of a human body beneath the wings, but nothing more than that. Soon, even that would be gone.

Even as he thought it, he let his wings shift, forming a more spherical shape. The light at his center became blindingly bright, but Danny could still see the chains of Love attached to it that kept him grounded.

One of those chains pulled taught as Clockwork summoned him, not even bothering with the avatar this time. This time, Danny would be able to talk to Clockwork directly, and it would be fine, because Danny had shed that illusion of humanity and become more like Clockwork.

He entered Clockwork’s direct presence and—

Danny reeled as the vision simply stopped being something his mind could interpret. He felt a part of what he called his sanity crumble.

Perhaps… Perhaps not that one. Instead…

He chose the featureless white mask, lifting it with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy.

Clockwork’s avatar reached out, the sleeves of its robes whispering past Danny’s ears. Let me help you put that on, it said. It took the mask and flipped it over, brushing the broad, white satin ribbon out of the way with its thumbs.

Before Danny could think to protest, before he could decide if he wanted to protest, the mask was pressed against his face.

The soft inner lining fit perfectly snug against his features. Perfectly enough that it forced his eyelids and lips closed. The bottom edge of the mask cupped his jaw, preventing him from opening his mouth.

He could not see, with the mask on. Somehow, this surprised him. Part of him had expected to supernaturally be able to see through the mask.

This was inconvenient. On the other hand, not being forced to see the Dream and its denizens could be a boon in and of itself.

Clockwork’s avatar finished tying the ribbon. When you wear this, only those who know you will know you. And only those who you keep in place of your may have their knowledge progress.

Danny tested his ability to speak, first with human words and then with his True Voice. The best he could manage was a sort of hum.

I know you best of all. One cannot progress past completion. Remember, those who Love you will understand you, even without words. You will be allowed to remove the mask if it pleases you.

Danny nodded to show he understood, the weight of the mask making the motion more energetic than usual.

It took Danny time to learn how to navigate the Dream blind. The Dream was, well, Dream. It did not follow the usual rules of object permanence. Things Danny could not directly perceive existed only at the whims of others. While he was with Clockwork, he could have faith that things would stay mostly stable, but once he left, his world shrunk to echoes and what lay against his skin.

But when he did finally make it home and opened his eyes, he was able to fully understand what the mask gave him.

He could not see the nightmares and madness lurking just under reality. His sight was human. He turned to his mirror and saw not a monster, but simply his physical body.

He found himself weeping in relief. It had been so hard. Even if it was an illusion bought by ignorance, for the first time in far too long, he felt safe, no longer exposed.

Whether or not it pleased him, he might never take the mask off.

He walked to Jazz’s room to tell her the good news, only to discover he could not speak.

After some experimentation, Danny and Jazz determined that, when he wore the mask, his speech was as constrained in the real world as it was in the Dream. If he wanted to talk, he had to slip into the Dream to take it off.

It was inconvenient, but still. A perfectly hidden identity and relief from seeing were more than worth inconvenience.

With the mask on, he almost felt human again.

Before the school day began, he paused in the bathroom and braced himself. He had gotten away with being quiet at home, but at school, teachers would require him to answer questions.

He stepped into the Dream and reached up to untie the knot at the back of his head. It would not come loose. Danny pulled harder.

If it pleased him.

Well, it didn’t please him to be exposed in school. Beyond that… Danny suspected that Clockwork also had a hand in when he was allowed to remove the mask.

A few weeks later, the school psychiatrist diagnosed him with selective mutism.

“It almost makes sense,” claimed Tucker, gesturing at Danny’s ceiling, “if you think of it like a parent keeping their kid safe on the internet. Like, you don’t want their identity exposed, so you keep them from giving away personal information or talking to strangers.”

“That,” said Sam, poking Danny’s cheek, “or he wants your cute little face all to himself. What do you even look like in the Dream?”

“Like me,” said Danny. He raised a hand to touch his face. “I don’t know what I look like with the mask on.” The words came surprisingly easily. Before the mask, he’d worried that he’d eventually be unable to speak English, what with how difficult it was becoming to translate his thoughts to sounds.

Later that day, there was an incident. Danny couldn’t help. He couldn’t see.

(It was, however, very clear that the others could see him.)

(He couldn’t help but feel guilty.)

That night, Clockwork pulled him into the Dream.

There is someone I want you to meet, said Clockwork’s avatar as its fingers untied the mask.

“Who?” asked Danny as the mask came away. He nearly forgot his question as he once again took in Clockwork’s appearance. He had forgotten how beautiful it was here. Tears rolled down his face.

Your brother, said the avatar, gently leading Danny forward. I think you will get along. You both like masks.

It took a few minutes for Danny to distinguish this new presence from Clockwork’s, but once he did, the name came easily to his mind. This was Nocturne, the Dream Eater.

“Why is your mask different from mine?” asked Danny, because he couldn’t make a good first impression to save his life.

The mouth and eyes on Nocturne’s mask turned upward in humor. It plucked Danny’s mask from the hands of Clockwork’s avatar, and, to Danny’s simultaneous horror and delight, Danny discovered that he could feel Nocturne’s claws on the mask as if they were on his face instead.

That is because it is your face, said Nocturne, the one you show the world. Why wouldn’t you feel it when it is touched? When it is damaged? Nocturne ran his fingers down across the space where eye holes would have been in an ordinary mask, and Danny found himself forced to blink. For the other, it is because you are a child. I see and speak for myself. A child sees the world through their parent’s eyes. A child has no voice, but their parent speaks for them.

“Will it change when I get older?” asked Danny.

Nocturne laughed. You will not grow older. He moved forward suddenly, pressing the mask to Danny’s face, and putting one of his other hands against the back of Danny’s head. You will always be the youngest of us. The most… Human.

Is something wrong? asked Clockwork’s avatar.

“No,” said Danny, quickly. “It’s just hard to decide.”

You could have them all, it said, if it is so difficult.

Danny shook his head. “No, I just need more time.”

Maybe if Danny were human, this would be about getting the best deal, choosing the gift with the lowest price, but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t. This was about choosing the price he wanted to pay.

It surprised him, how much he wanted to pay some of them.

The set of bracelets clinked merrily when Danny touched them. They were four bands, each about two inches wide and a couple millimeters thick. The metal they were made of was smooth on the outside, but on the insides, they had the same fractal patterns as the collar.

The manacles are a good choice, said Clockwork’s avatar, approvingly.

Manacles.

Not bracelets.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was allowed to change his mind.

The manacles went around his wrists and ankles, each one closing with a snap. When they shut, the metal they were made of swirled, the hinges and seams disappearing to present a flawless surface and the overall shape shifting so the inside laid flush against his skin.

As soon as he closed the last one, and it finished altering itself, Danny felt a sharp pain through the center of his wrists and ankles, followed by a radiating numbness, as if a rod had been driven through each manacle, through each wrist and ankle, stopping only when it hit the other side. But the numbness soon faded, and as he flexed his hands and feet, he didn’t feel anything like that.

Still. The message was clear. The metal bands were not coming off.

Clockwork’s avatar took one of Danny’s hands, and examined the band. The metal, which had warmed against Danny’s skin, turned frigid under the avatar’s touch. For a moment, Danny’s vision blurred, and he saw a multitude of delicate chains leading from the manacle in every direction, connecting it to Clockwork, the other manacles, the collar around his neck and who knew what else. His vision cleared. A few long, silent minutes later, the avatar released him.

They were made with much skill. I hope you find them useful.

Danny nodded.

The manacles weren’t visible in the waking world, but Danny imagined he still felt them. Especially when he was doing things with his hands or feet.

‘Made with skill,’ indeed.

Lots of skills. Skills like drawing, writing, dancing, sign language. He didn’t trip or stumble any more but moved smoothly. It was interesting. It didn’t feel like the skills belonged to someone else. They were his, now, wherever they had originally come from. He knew how to do each thing he was doing, and he did them intentionally.

Still, his art (which he had always considered at least decent) was now scary good. He’d also outplayed Ember on the piano a few days back, breaking her hold on the people who had been listening. She’d been… rather upset about that.

It was worth it.

The string attached to the gift didn’t make itself known for a while. One day, while he was drawing, his wrists burned cold, and he found himself drawing something more than what he’d originally intended. The general subject was the same, but the skill put into it, the effort, was far, far greater. He’d meant to doodle a little, maybe for ten or so minutes before he went to bed.

Instead, it was hours later and if it wasn’t on the back of his French homework the drawing could have been hung in a museum.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to imagine that he was being puppetted, controlled, that the manacles made him into a marionette, but that wasn’t what it felt like. Instead, it felt as if something had flipped a switch inside him.

He understood, then. The manacles granted him skills, but he couldn��t always decide when to use them. Or how much.

It wasn’t the last time it happened. He’d suddenly be seized with the urge to do something. Make use of some skill. And whatever he did when those urges settled over him was inhumanly good. Dangerously good. As in, attracting the wrong kind of attention good.

Those men in suits had been there for him, and he was quite certain that, if he had been perceptible to people foreign to Amity Park, they would have tried to take him. Tried, being the operative word.

More importantly, the mural he’d been compelled to paint on the side of the supermarket last night seemed to be attracting a following. He’d attempted to keep elements of the others out of it, but he knew they somehow slipped through, slipped past his attention, and into his art.

Sam and Tucker thought it was fine, though. He was inclined to trust them.

He was glad that the manacles did not seem to infer any violent or deadly skills. He wasn’t what he would do if they did and the urge to act turned into an urge to harm.

The manacles turned cold.

Perhaps he’d bake a cake. Something for Sam and Tucker, as a thanks for putting up with him.

Danny slumped against Clockwork’s avatar, who held him without complaint. These visions were mentally draining. They would be, what with containing weeks compressed into seconds.

Were they seconds?

The picture frame caught Danny’s eye. It was a picture of him, as an infant, being held by Clockwork’s avatar, the great expanse of Clockwork himself in the background. Danny wasn’t quite sure he knew the picture was of himself. Really, he’d been a generic-looking baby. But he did know.

He took the picture.

Nothing happened. He went home, woke up, and went about his normal life. On occasion, he would look at the picture when he dropped into the Dream. It warmed something in him.

It took him a month to realize he was aging backwards.

To be fair, no one else seemed to notice, either, even though the change was much more rapid than normal forward aging. Danny suspected they were being blocked from noticing.

No, that wasn’t quite right. They treated the age he appeared as the normal state of things, but they also treated him as if he were his apparent. Something which had bothered him all last week, even if he didn’t realize why it was happening.

It made it slightly more embarrassing that he himself had only noticed when he’d gone to retrieve a cup from the top shelf in the cabinet and couldn’t because he was too short.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were confused when he brought it up to them. They seemed to be under the impression that he’d always been a few years younger than Sam and Tucker. That he’d been skipped forward a few years to be in the same class as them. Danny had let the subject drop. He had no idea how to even begin fixing this. If it even could be fixed.

Every day, as he got younger and younger, he also seemed to attract more and more attention. Positive attention. People would smile at him, tell him he was cute, give him presents out of nowhere. Danny couldn’t say he hated it.

Until he got small enough for people to carry around. Which they did. Frequently. Without asking for permission. Even this wasn’t so much of a problem.

Until the cult.

Until the knife.

Until the sacrifice.

(And Clockwork was so thrilled to be able to raise him from infancy.)

He hadn’t decided yet.

How could he decide? They were amazing gifts. Terrifying gifts. Gifts he could not refuse. Gifts he didn’t want to refuse, at least on some level.

But this wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what he could live with.

The pectoral gave him power and the respect of his peers but took away his ability to use those things in the defense of Amity. Although being powerful in the Dream was an idea that tickled at the shadows in Danny’s mind.

The veils gave him something he always wanted – flight – but at the cost of his humanity and individuality.

The mask would protect him, let him hide and return to a mostly ordinary life, but he would lose the chance to face his new existence on his own terms as well as some of his autonomy. Not to mention, his ability to actually help his people.

The manacles gave him skills he’d enjoy, but also made him a hazard for others.

The picture frame… Something twinged inside Danny’s chest… The picture frame gave him a new life with Clockwork, from the very beginning. But he’d lose everything else and kickstart an unmanageable cult.

He couldn’t give up his friends, his family, his human life. He couldn’t give up his ability to protect Amity. Perhaps all those things would fade from importance in his mind as he became more and more other, but for now they were razor sharp. That made his choice clear.

“The manacles,” he mumbled to Clockwork’s avatar. He could work around the drawbacks (even if part of him resisted the notion that the drawbacks were drawbacks).

The avatar stroked Danny’s hair. An excellent choice.

“How,” said Danny, trying to recollect his thoughts, “how do they work?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered as he saw the chains on the manacles again. The way they felt on his skin was just like what he remembered.

Skills that go unused are lost in the Dream. These find them and bring them to you, bind them to you, so they are never lost again. Clockwork’s avatar plucked one of the chains. It felt as if someone had traced their fingers possessively up one of his arms. Although some of the chains have other functions. It nuzzled Danny as something deep below in Clockwork’s depths began to chime. One can never be too connected to those they Love.

Danny woke in his bed and moaned. His pillow was wet with drool. Evidently, he had left his body behind this time. That happened, on occasion, when he went to the Dream. He was never sure how he felt about it.

He raised his hands up above his head. As expected, the manacles were not visible, but he did feel more… connected to the world around him. Being connected was good. It meant that what happened before wouldn’t happen again. It meant that he wouldn’t be lost.

He lowered his hands, clasping them over where his heart would have, should have been.

The connections, though, were mostly to Clockwork, who was as inhuman as any of the others Danny protected Amity Park from. Should that bother him? He thought of what Nocturne had said in the other timeline, the one where he had chosen the mask. He’d known, already, that as much as Clockwork protected him, he also kept him in a state where he needed that protection. Wasn’t it natural? Wasn’t it the desire to keep Loved ones close?

His breath hitched as he briefly felt the soothing mental weight of Clockwork’s Love increase.

It was fine, wasn’t it?

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #ask #answer #loved

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togetherwearerapture · 4 years ago

Text

Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

****************

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible. I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

********************

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #tobias carrick #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick x mc #open heart #choices open heart #open heart 3

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lyracasstuff · 4 years ago

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Heya!! I actually just found your blog and I would like to say how amazing your writing it! Aaaa it's so cute and you seem very sweet!! <3

I came here to ask for a idv match up! I'm a female, she/her, I'm bi but I do have a preference towards men. Also, I don't mind a survivor or hunter!! Whatever you feel like atm dear. I'm very energetic when you get me in the right mood!! I love baking and editing! I also quite like photography. I'm a very loving person but can get cold if I feel bad so it's a bad habit TwT. I do give lots of compliments to people and it may seem like i like them but I just really like pointing out nice things about people. I love hugs and kisses especially!! I love it if my s/o could give me attention but not too much yknow? Like i want them to be happy with their life with me and their life outside of our relationship. Umm I hope that's enough!! Thank you for making your blog! It is very nice!! You're doing great!! I appreciate you <3 (ps. Make sure to eat and drink enough~)

Thank you for caring about my health dearie~ Honestly,, I could also say the same for you..(｡･ω･｡)

And I'm quite glad that you enjoy reading my blog posts! It means quite a lot for me whenever I hear people enjoying my blog as much as I enjoy writing them..( ´ ▽ ` )

After much thinking,, I've decided to match you up with...

Joseph Desaulnier!!📷

Let's first address the big elephant in the room: Photography..（・∀・）

Since the both of you love photography,, I can most *definitely* imagine you two taking pictures of scenery found in the manor..

As well as *some* of the silly things that happen outside of matches.. Although,, it's more on your end than Joseph's..

However,, I must also remind you that you WILL be bombarded with questions partaining to your "equipment"..(｡･ω･｡)

Whether it'd be a modern HD camera or your smartphone,, it's safe to assume that Joseph will be VERY much curious about these "equipment" that you have brought from the "future" ((even though we call it anything *but* from the future..))

"Are you telling me that this camera of yours can capture pictures instantly??? With just a simple press of a button??? Then, does that mean you won't have to stand for long periods of time to take your picture???"

((Fun fact: the first cameras that were patented require you to stand for long periods of time to take your picture which explains why plenty of the pictures during the Victorian Era were people staying in one position like standing..))

"This "smartphone" can ALSO capture pictures?? Would you mind showing me how, ma chérie??"

"The quality of the pictures are ABSOLUTELY DIVINE! From what time period must you be to access this kind of machinery, ma chérie???"

I highly suggest that you study your equipment thoroughly because Joseph *will* be asking questions about your photography equipment..

Well,, that and Joseph will *literally* fumble with *every* single nook and cranny of said equipment where he might actually break something on accident..

Which is rare for the gentlemanly and disciplined Joseph,, however we ARE talking about one of his biggest passions here..╮(─▽─)╭

Another topic here that is perhaps connected somehow is editing!!（⌒▽⌒）

Joseph is quite astonished when you told him one time that photos can be tweaked from your time period..

Now, on one hand,, he is amused as he sometimes *does* struggle with getting the perfect picture when the environment around him just isn't having it..

But he also can't fathom the idea of people actually editing their photos so much that sometimes,, the unedited version looks far too different than the edited version...

When I say that,, I specifically mean people who probably use photoshop just a *bit* too much..(^_^;)

Not that there is anything wrong about it as everyone knows.. After all,, sometimes we just use it solely for entertainment by making weird, abstract collages of people..

((Like photoshopping a bunch of characters from different fandoms to make some sort of crack-crossover movie poster..╮(─▽─)╭))

It just that Joseph prefers less edited photos as he believes that a photo can shine on it's own when it's taken skillfully..

((Another fun fact: Based from what I can gather, the French in the 1800s preferred a more natural look, which is evident by their choices in makeup like powder for the face or some simple rouge for the lips and cheeks.. Of course,, we are excluding the hair as we all know that big, elaborate wigs were all the rage in this era..))

In fact,, he might even throw a *little* shade towards photos that are super edited...(◎_◎;)

Pls tell him to calm down and not insult people who do something similar to that.. It'll only escelate and get worse in the future..

Okay,, now that we've discussed those, I think we shall head on over to other things, don't you think??（・∀・）

Another reason as to why I paired you with Joseph is because of your upbeat and loving energy!!（〜^∇^)〜🧡

Joseph's life before the manor was already pretty gloomy, and it hasn't really improved when he got into the manor..

So your very energetic and affectionate nature will surely bring in some lost warmth to his life!!（＞ｙ＜）

Although,, please be patient with him for at least a little while.. After all, him *suddenly* receiving love and attention is a bit overwhelming for him to process all at once..╮(─▽─)╭

When he *does* gets used to it, he appreciates it very much..(∩_∩)

With that being said however,, he is still quite disciplined about the time that you two spend together AND the time that you two spend seperately from each other so you won't have to worry about having your boundaries being meshed together..（・∀・）

On the topic of affections,, Joseph will actually be a bit shocked to hear you dish out compliments to everyone in the manor.. And quite frankly,, as well as everyone else that you complimented

((Listen,, we're talking about the Victorian Era,, where modesty is highlighted as a core value..))

I'll be honest in saying that for a split-second,, Joseph *might've* actually thought of you as a flirtatious person

So when you explained to him that that's just how you are and that you just like to point out nice things about other people,, he's confused..(^_^;)

"Wait, but you complimented Mike's juggling act. Shouldn't that mean that you would like to court him??"

"Didn't you tell Victor that you thought he was sweet?? Pardon me for asking this, but are you... Interested in him, ma chérie?"

You're going to have to explain to him that just because you like a certain aspect of a person,, that doesn't mean you actually like them AS A WHOLE...

He may or not have demanded that you bake for him the next time that you two will have your afternoon tea together..(⌒_⌒;)

It's his "apology gift" as he puts it...

Okay,, I know I said that Joseph absolutely appreciates your loving side,, but he also *adores* your more "colder" side..

And no,, it's not because he's a masochist..(｡･ω･｡)

See, as much as Joseph relishes in the feeling of protecting someone he cares/loves.. Even he can admit that sometimes,, it gets too exhausting when your partner is the *literal definition* of a walking doormat..

I don't know about you,, but I kind of picture Joseph as someone who wants to have a partner that, at the *very least*,, can stand on their own two feet.. It gives Joseph a sense of pride,, see???

In conclusion,, I personally think that you and Joseph would work wonders for each other!! Different in your personalities, but united through the same common interest of photography.. I'd say its a decent balance of "opposites attract" and "similarities attract"..

🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷

Author's note: On the topic of people photoshopping the heck out of their photos.. DON'T HARRASS/BULLY/INSULT THEM PLEASE!!! I will be blunt in saying that I frankly do not care whatever your intentions were, because when you strip said intentions away from the grand scheme of things,,

All that's left is a situation where someone insulted/bullied/harassed another person just for editing their photos a bit too much..

And when you put it like that,, wouldn't you agree that it sounds idiotic? Because in all honesty, it is..(¬_¬) After all,, those photos won't be affecting you much in the long run now,, would they??

And even if you said that you did it with good intentions, the way you acted upon these "intentions" was poorly done when it could've been handled *much* more efficiently...

So in short,, pls don't harrass anyone that you know that does these to their photos, it's not only for their sake but also yours..( ´ ▽ ` )

I apologize for ranting like that,, however I feel as though these types of situations are completely meaningless AND avoidable had it not been for the people that continue to stick their fingers into others' honeyjars.. So I personally as though it needs to be said.. Again, sorry if this rant is a bit unsettling and a bit "rough on the edges"..(⌒_⌒;)

Well that's about it.. Until next time,, I'll see you all in my next post!!ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ💚

#identity v #identity v imagines #identity v headcanons #identity v x reader #identity v photographer #identity v joseph #idv #idv headcanons #idv x reader #idv imagines #idv hcs #idv photographer #idv joseph #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulnier x reader #joseph desaulniers x reader #idv matchups

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callipraxia · 1 year ago

Text

And now we're to "Love God!"

Chipmunk, huh, Mabel? I think it looks more like a kitten...but then, for the longest time my first thought about the obviously waffle-shaped cloud Thompson fails to identify was "shoeprint!," so perhaps I shouldn't comment on other people's ability to label clouds.

"Clouds don't come in colors." I mean, sometimes they look like they do

"You've never had an awesome crew to roll with before!" (cut to everyone else chanting for Thompson to lick a moldy sponge someone presumably littered in the cemetery...that's all.) I guess it really is indicative of the degree to which the twins have been accepted as the members of the crew that Dipper has "ordering Thompson around" privileges.

"That might work for a goat and a pig, but Robbie's a hopeless case!" haha, I'd forgotten Wendy was funny.

Considering how often he sing-narrates his actions this season (the "car-drivin' song" from "Golf War," and now "puttin' a rainbow wig on a big white gorilla"), I guess Stan really did enjoy karaoke, huh?

Ooh, the weapons box is real! I was sure I saw that thing, sure enough that it was the subject of a whole sub-point in one of the Ford essays, but it's good to have more visual confirmation. (As soon as I state something with confidence, I...immediately become worried I remembered it wrong. It's an issue.)

And Soos has one of his Moments of Surprising Intelligence, which makes one wonder what's going on in his head sometimes...we know Stan sometimes explains business concepts to him, but here, he kinda explains one to Stan!

Also, Stan, uh...I don't know how to tell you this, but the oldest person you interact with regularly? Yeah, he's 22...though admittedly, a) he's Soos and b) you also pay him, so, eh, fair enough.

I hate to give Robbie a point, but...he's got a point about his parents, their cheerfulness is...I suspect it would be just a bit unsettling even if there weren't corpses on screen with 'em.

"I'm like Girl Dipper!" Maaaaaybe not the best pitch in the world, Mabel...in present company...

"Robbie's not a bad guy, he's just a heartbroken soul who needs love!" Pominent in the background, directly beside Mabel's head as she says this: graffiti reading "Die, Dipper, Die!"

Sometimes I worry about how detached from reality Mabel can get....

Am I wrong, or is this the only episode where Wendy wears a different outfit in real life? The only other time I can recall her entirely shedding her usual outfit was in "Double Dipper," and that only happened in a couple of fantasies of Dipper's and Tyrone's (Dipcificae, y'all can use the fact that Dipper's fantasy version of Wendy dresses more like Pacifica if you want, I suppose).

In retrospect, nice job planting the idea (by revealing that he's not actually as idiotic as he usually acts when he goes off on the twins) that Thompson is actually potentially a mastermind who miiiight just have what it takes (eventually) to play with the likes of Stan or Bill or the Axolotl early in the episode...even if he does still betray wince-inducing naivete in sharing Mabel's notion that breaking Tambry and Robbie back up would actually unite the friend group again. Wendy would still be angry that Tambry had dated her ex...and probably even angrier that Robbie had now hurt both her and her friend-since-kindergarten. Lee and Nate would still have issues about trust and mockery. Nothing would have improved...Unless that was just the Future Mastermind taking a little revenge - if Mabel had gone to any conventional lengths to create said break-up, then she'd have been guaranteed to at least no longer be friends with Tambry permanently, and that could have affected her relationship with Wendy, and since Wendy is the main link between the twins and everyone else....

...I...spend way too much time coming up with ways to interpret events as elaborate, malicious schemes, don't I?

Mabel, hon, at least Dipper's wearing a different shirt than usual. He also pulls it off fine as far as I can tell? (This episode, I admit, is one of the ones where I don't Mabel especially likable. I'd say it's just because Pacifica one-upped her in the newspaper by declaring v-necks the look of the season back in "Golf War," but I thought the implication was that the whole "I nearly got you killed trying to cheat at mini-golf" thing cancelled out both the newspaper thing and the earlier mockery thing and that they were in a truce from there on out?)

For anyone who wonders Mabel is, apparently randomly, polyamorous in my story "The Earth Never Tires," this episode is why. "Yes, I will marry all of you!" It's canon!

"It's heaven's punishment for our terrible taste in everything!" Just one of the times Stan would act as an agent of the gods, I suppose...just not Love God. Good thing he was immortal!

Well - the house is mostly in order, except that the vacuuming needs doing, but it's too late in the day for that now - too hot. With that therefore postponed to tomorrow morning and with my Spanish lessons done, I shall see if my DVD player will cooperate with watching GF S2 Disc 2.

...initial efforts aren't promising, we only got as far as Dipper and Mabel declaring that twinship makes them "birthday experts" into "Blendin's Game" before the DVD player glitched out - turns out that the first disc of S1 might not be wonky after all, and that it's actually this DVD player. Still - perseverance!

Bad children. going through people's things...I tend to regard the interior of one's handbag and/or wallet as a rather private space, and would react very loudly to anyone presuming to go through mine. Soos is probably better-natured than I am, but dangit, Mabel, you at least definitely know this, because you outright admitted you were snooping for "Soos secrets!"

Y'know, I don't know if the problem with the giant hummingbird story is that "Soos is very naive" or "it's Gravity Falls, that's actually perfectly reasonable."

...yeah, forget perseverance, let's find the old laptop with a disc drive in it, I do not have the fortitude to watch the scene where Blendin invokes Globnar five more times, and in the past three minutes the disc has twice skipped back to the beginning before I could even get past the menu. Stupid rubbbish property.

#gravity falls #gravity falls season 2 #rewatch #gravity falls characters #the love god #thompson: biggest mastermind in gravity falls

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catgrump · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a nsfw korekiyo x female reader birthday scenario? Love your writing btw, it’s a really good example to use for grammar and wording when I’m trying to write <33

Aww tysm Anon! My grammar may not always be perfect— sometimes I make bad grammatical choices on purpose, too— but I’m glad you’re learning and trying to improve your own skills!

This is a Non-Despair AU of course. Female!Reader in this case also means Cis Female, as that is what I am better able to draw experience from as a writer.

Read it under the cut! NSFW WARNING for sexual content!

🌹🌹🌹

Your boyfriend returned from the kitchen, having finished cleaning dinner’s dishes. You’re sitting on his couch, so you don’t see him, but you hear his soothing voice and gentle footsteps.

“Have you enjoyed your day, darling?”

You turn over your shoulder to see him holding a small velvet box about the size of his palm.

“Oh, Kiyo, you didn’t need to get me anything,” He handed the box to you, so you know it’s a birthday present.

You snap the lid up and inside the white satin lining sits a black faceted crystal pendant, entwined in black cord that’s been woven in a diamond pattern, securing it to the black metal chain.

“Kiyo,” you take the necklace out of the box and hold it in front of you, admiring its shine in the evening light, “This is gorgeous; thank you so much.”

You unclasp the back and separate the chain to put it on immediately, but Kiyo sits next to you and says “Allow me.”

You move so your back is to your partner, and he takes the necklace from your hands. You take your hair in your hands and brush it out of the way so it won’t get caught in the clasp.

As you feel the cold chain against your neck, you smile, and touch the stone, feeling the wrappings between your fingers.

You purse your lips. Maybe this is a sign.

When you first started seeing Kiyo, he made his preferences clear. You got an explicit understanding of what he likes because he values communication.

When he took rope out of a dresser drawer one night, you got anxious. But, since communicating is so important to him, you confessed you weren’t too sure whether you wanted to do anything like that yet.

“Yes, I understand,” he said softly, “the possibility of exploring new sensations can be anxiety-inducing. We do not have to do anything if you aren’t certain it is what you want to do.”

But the longer you’ve been together, the more you think about those ropes. The image of his hands gripping the jute strands has run through your mind countless times.

The smooth stone wrapped up, feeling the contrast between your fingertips... you can’t help but wonder.

“Kiyo,” you say, trying to work up your confidence, “I know it’s my birthday and all, but... maybe I could give you a present tonight, too?”

“Oh?” He’s intrigued

You turn around and kiss him, always happy he trusts you enough to not hide behind his signature mask when you’re alone together. When you pull away and look at his smile, you try to elaborate through the obvious fluster on your face, “I know you’ve always w-wanted to... tie me up.”

He brushed hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your cheek as he said “Darling, you know I’d only want to do that if it’s something you want, as well. But... I would be lying if I denied it outright.”

“I... want to try it,” you admitted, “Maybe we could do some simple stuff? See if I like it?”

He brought you back and tenderly kissed your lips. “I’d be honored,” he said after he broke away

He got up from the sofa and offered you a hand. With your hands entwined, he led you to his bedroom. The nerves are there, but Kiyo’s hand is gentle and reassuring.

Once he dimmed the lights in his bedroom, he began to kiss you again, delicately grazing his hands up and down your arms, then to your waist and hips. He stopped at the small of your back and held on tight, pulling your body flush to his.

Your hands are comfortably behind his back, playing with his silky dark hair. It’s one of your favorite things to do, whether you’re kissing him or not.

And now you feel him unzipping your dress, so you move your hands to unbutton his shirt. You both pull away, smiling as you undress each other.

The cotton sleeves and bodice slide down your arms and rest at your elbows as you expose more of his chest.

And with each button you popped open, the faster your heart beat.

You’ve been with Kiyo for some time now, it’s not like you haven’t had sex with him before, but you feel the way you did back when you were going to have sex for the first time. Your breathing is shallow and your chest is tight and you feel heat all over your body.

The dress fell off of you once your arms were down, and he removed his shirt, carefully setting it on the dresser that you knew contained what you asked for.

He brought you close again. His hands on your waist and yours against his chest, he whispered, “You are so beautiful,” into your neck before kissing it with force, bringing a sound from you for the first time tonight

As he sucked and nipped at your neck, he guided you toward the bed. You’ve been in here many times before, so you have a good sense of where it is, and didn’t need to be forced on once you felt the mattress and bed frame against the back of your legs.

He leaned forward, hair falling into his face, his palms pressed against the dark sheets. He gently explained “I thought perhaps we could try things that enhanced sensations you already enjoy,” one of his hands moved to your upper thigh and was brushing it delicately, “I’ll describe everything before we begin to make sure you approve. Is that alright?”

Your legs were instinctively spreading as you nodded your approval to him.

“Wonderful,” he started to kiss you and you felt his fingers begin to prod at you, stroking the fabric that still covered you up

You against his mouth as he found your clit and applied pressure, knowing exactly what to do to make you melt.

Your hips were already twitching. It was likely the anticipation that got you going.

His hand moved under the waistline and he slid two fingers down, feeling just how wet you’ve become. The fingers pressed against your entrance, and barely made it inside before he brought them back out again, and you couldn’t help but whine.

“Be patient, love,” he cooed into your ear before leaving you

You pouted and started touching yourself as you watched him approach the infamous dresser. You started taking off your underwear now— the waiting was unbearable.

“Make yourself comfortable, Y/N,” he beckoned, gesturing to the bed, now with rope in his hand, and something you couldn’t quite distinguish resting underneath the bundle of jute.

You moved from the side of the mattress to the center, sitting against the headboard. He smirked as he made his way back to you, feeling the rope in his fingers as he spoke, “I don’t want to start with anything too drastic,” he was climbing onto the bed now, straddling over your legs, reminding you of his full height, “If I bind your wrists to the bed frame, that’s all you’d need to fixate on the sensations.”

He explanations were sexy enough on their own. You tried to subtly grind your thighs together as you listened to his sensual descriptions of your body focusing on what he would do to you since you wouldn’t be able to move your hands. “This can be amplified even more if I were to blindfold you,” he offered, “How does that sound?”

As much as you like looking at Kiyo when you have sex, trying this is at least worth a shot. You tell him you want him to do everything he described.

You watch, biting your lip as he gingerly takes each of your hands and secures the rope to the bar that’s at the top of the otherwise hollow bed frame. Your wrists are above your head, embraced by... it’s less harsh than you imagined. When you saw rope in his hands previously, you imagined a coarseness to them that would scratch your skin. You can feel the teeth of the material constrict you, but it’s clearly cotton, or some other fabric you’d have in your wardrobe.

“How do you feel?” He asked

“Good,” you reply

“Wonderful. Let me know how this is,” he smirked again and his fingers returned.

You sighed with delight feeling him touch you again, and when he instantly was able to slide two fingers in, you gasped, feeling a heat rise to your face. You didn’t realize just how turned on you were, and felt sheepish that you were so ready so quickly. He curled his fingers and beckoned “Enjoying yourself?”

“Y-yeah,” you exhaled with hitched breath

“Good.” His fingers slipped out of you and then he pressed them back inside, deeper than before, forcing a shout followed by a dazed smile from you

“D-do that again, please,” you whimpered

He chuckled as he continued to maneuver his fingers inside you, now adding his thumb to your clit, making you write and drip. “Patience, darling.”

You whined, “Please, Kiyo, it was so good.”

“I’m glad,” he quickened his pace and your hips were bucking into his hand, “But I think you’ll enjoy it more in a few moments.”

His fingers slowly slid out and he looked you in the eye as he licked them clean. You tried to move your wrists to continue where he left off, but were quickly reminded that wouldn’t be possible tonight. You tried to bring your thighs together but your partner is in between them. You can’t recall the last time you were this in need but couldn’t do anything about it yourself.

Kiyo reached over and revealed a black silk piece of fabric that was under the bundle of rope before. “If you cannot see, your other senses will heighten,” he explained, taking delight in seeing you squirm beneath him

You frantically nodded your head in approval, and he chuckled as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, it was black, and his hands were back on your thighs. He was right. It was all you could focus on.

Suddenly, his breath was against your skin, and you were starting to sweat as your legs were pushed further open. “I can work with my fingers once more if you’d like, but truth be told, I am craving release as well, and would adore sex right now. You look so beautiful, Y/N.”

Just hearing him ask and feeling his words reverberate against you made you feel yourself get even wetter. “Take me, then,” you exhaled

Kiyo sighed with a twisted pleasure, a bit away from you now, and you heard the buckle of his belt click, then the pleather of the belt slide through the loops on his pants. You heard fabric move and jostle and you imagined he was naked now. And when you heard the crinkling of plastic you knew he had put on a condom.

He held on to your ass and lifted your hips up. The tip of his cock was teasing you, making you shudder. “Are you ready, love?” He asked

You thought he would be able to feel how ready you were, but he does value communication. “Yes,” you sighed

He entered you slowly, and you were already starting to quiver. Your back was already arched and feeling him was all you could focus on. That, and the necklace. The crystal slid across your chest as he lifted you up. “K-Kiyo,” you gasped

“Is something wrong, darling?” He had stopped everything he was doing

“N-no, everything is good, but,” you took a breath, “did you want to take off the necklace?”

“I think the obsidian is beautiful against your breast,” he admitted, “But if you want it removed—“

That’s actually kind of sweet. Sweet, and also pretty sexy. “No, it can stay on if you like it so much,” you smiled, but were trembling, aching to get back to where you left off, “Please keep going; I need you— ah!”

As soon as you said ‘I need you’, he thrusted. Your legs brought themselves tighter around his waist as he steadied his pace.

Kiyo’s not typically one for noises during sex... or so you thought. You could now hear muffled grunts coming from him as he pounded into you. Did he always do that, and this is just part of the amplified senses thing; that you can hear it? It’s hot either way.

What was really amplified were the indecent sounds escaping your lips. You wanted to tell him how good he feels and how much you liked this but all you could speak were moans.

He took a stronger grip on your ass, digging his polished fingernails into the skin as he thrust hard, and you had your hips follow his.

Your legs were shaking against his back. You don’t think you’ve ever finished this soon and you so desperately want to keep feeling this but you can’t use your hands to control your legs. Your whole body is trembling now as he continues to slowly and forcefully pound his throbbing cock deeper into you, and you gasp, feeling your smile twist and contort as you cum, your hips continuing to buck against him, drenching his dick inside you.

He’s still going. You’re trying to catch your breath as he’s suddenly moved your legs off him, pressing them against his chest. His hands are clutching your ankles now, and you feel his dick throbbing inside you as he moves faster and faster.

Your breathing is shallow again and your hands are squeezed into fists and you’re cumming again in an instant, screaming with perverse pleasure

You can barely make out your partner’s scream over your own, but you felt it. Your legs were pushed forward toward your own body, along with Kiyo, keeling over as he came inside you.

You both were panting and sweating now. Once you both calmed down, he slid out, and you shuddered, having THAT feeling amplified now, too.

After a few moments, the blindfold was removed and you saw Kiyo smiling down at you. He was untying the ropes as he gently asked “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, in all honesty,” he laughed when you said that, “But that was really good. I think I’m starting to understand now.”

You shook out your wrist once you felt it free, letting the blood flow back. Before you could set your hand in your lap, though, he took it and kissed your knuckles. “I would adore to continue to show you new sensations, if you so desire.”

You smiled at him. “I don’t think I’m ready for full harnesses just yet, but we can maybe try to ease into it.”

“Of course, love,” he kissed your knuckles again, “I only want to show you pleasure.”

If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving a tip on Ko-Fi, if you’re able! 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me.

Requests are still open 💛

#danganronpa #nsft #drv3 #danganronpa korekiyo #korekiyo shinguji #drv3 korekiyo #korekiyo x reader #danganronpa kiyo #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fic #danganronpa fanfic #drv3 fanfic

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a-crimson-lion · 4 years ago

Text

Ultimatum: The Art of Lying In A Made Bed

(Or Why My Experience With Chapter 285 Is Contrary To Everyone Else's)

[Manga Spoilers Ahead. Also Opinions. Feel Free To Ignore.]

After Chapter 284, many fans were wondering how the story of BNHA would follow up on Katsuki's development. Now that Chapter 285 is officially out, fans are clamoring about Katsuki's latest acts of heroism, about how his arc is finally kicking it into high gear.

I'd be inclined to agree, but… you know how these things go.

[Heads up fans/stans, if you like Katsuki you might wanna bail. The word vomit that follows is pretty much incoherent and reflects my disaster of a thought process.]

I was looking forward to Chapter 285. I had my reservations on the execution of Chapter 284, but if the next chapter could follow it up and then some, I'd be pleasantly surprised. But then the leaks came out. And then the fan translation. And as of today, the official VIZ translation.

While everyone else is cheering for explosion boy, I'm just… done.

285 didn't get me to see how far Bakugo's journey has come. 285 didn't get me to finally root for him. And maybe I am making this decision prematurely, maybe I am missing something, but…

...the way things are going in the story I just- I just CAN'T root for him.

And I'm not saying the rest of you can't, if you're still reading. Katsuki is definitely a different person compared to Chapter 1, a better person, and he's definitely been heading on the up and up! If you can and want to support him, then by all means, go for it, don't let me stop you! It's just…

For me, chapter 284 was a wavering torch: a flicker of hope that sometimes dwindled, but was still there. Chapter 285 was the moment where I wanted to jump on the Katsuki Development Train, to finally gain some semblance of respect for him. But when I jumped, I landed on the tracks, and had to crawl back onto the platform.

I missed my chance to jump on that train. Whether it's because of previous circumstances or recent circumstances, I'll never know…

You probably wanna ask me at this point, "But Crimson, why DIDN'T Chapter 285 make you see the awe inspiring pinnacle of character development that is Katsuki Bakugo???"

To put it simply: it's a culmination thing.

For starters, there's a sort of… whiplash with Katsuki's development in the last few chapters. People like me will complain that Katsuki's development is too slow, in the case of the last 2-3 chapters, it feels like a switch was flipped, and now it's become too fast. Perhaps it's a me thing, but let me try to explain…

Shoto starts out as a standard background character. By the time he gets his spotlight in the Sports Festival, he comes off as reserved and antagonistic. After the whole "it's your power" moment, Shoto is finally able to accept the side he always hated. Then Katsuki fights Shoto, and we're shown he still needs time to grow; his left side comes with a lot of baggage he can't just brush off in the span of a single sparring match.

Fastforward to Hosu. Shoto's starting to take other people into better account. He's starting to learn to better control his fire. He's reconnected with his mother. His goal is no longer one-upping his old man; he has goals, people, that he wants to protect. He's coming into his own and wants others to do the same, like Tenya.

He joins the Katsuki Rescue Squad because, like Izuku, he had an opportunity to save Katsuki, didn't, and now he wants to make up for it. When we get to the Provisional License Exam, we're yet again slammed with the fact that his growth is still not done via Inasa, that there's still a bit of Endeavor he has to shake off, even if it was in the past. And he does progress towards that with the Remedial Course Arc. And while I have my opinions on the Endeavor Agency Arc, I'll admit that it was another development opportunity for Shoto and the Todoroki family. Shoto's growth comes with setbacks, but overall it's consistent.

Let's shift gears to Tenya, who's characterization I find fascinating. He starts out opposed to Izuku when they first meet at the Entrance Exam. He sees how Izuku is (for lack of a better phrase) "better qualified" at heroics thus far, reassesses his position, and apologizes whilst making amends. When Tenya resorts to LITERAL MURDER against Stain, the narrative does not let him go off without reprocussions. His arms are damaged, his supervisor's teaching license is revoked, and while he managed to avoid legal charges via police cover up, it still came close. Tenya listened to Stain's words, and opted to improve himself by that notion. He tries to set a better example, be a better class rep. It isn't a one and done.

Him lashing out during the Hideout Raid Arc is an offshoot of that. He doesn't deck Izuku just to be a dick; he's trying to knock some sense into him. They're so focused on Katsuki that they're forgetting about everyone else. Their friends, their teachers, their parents. If they f*** up like Tenya almost did at Hosu, they'll have hell to pay, and he doesn't want that. Of course, once they explain that combat/murder is not their M.O., Tenya tags along, if only to ensure the operation goes smoothly without this hitch. And again, Tenya keeps up. He looks after his classmates, looks after Izuku during the Shie Hassaikai arc. His growth is also consistent.

There are probably more characters I could elaborate on (Ochako, Momo, Eijiro, etc.), but I'll stop there. So, what's the deal with Katsuki's arc?

Well, it's… frustratingly back and forth.

It's one thing to have setbacks like Tenya and Shoto. It's something else entirely to have multiple setbacks and to keep trucking on with only abstract signs of development, but otherwise feeling like a very similar character compared to several chapters ago.

This is (in my opinion) Katsuki's problem. If we're going by what the manga stated, his arc technically started in Chapter 11: "Bakugo's Starting Line." But this is a rocky start. Izuku tells him about OFA right from the getgo out of guilt, but this neglects the fact that he's technically lying to everyone about it (including his new friends Ochako and Tenya), that OFA is a world-shattering secret, and that Katsuki is likely the worst person to tell this to considering that Izuku just handed Katsuki's ass to him and Katsuki was willing to use lethal force in their Trial. That aside, instead of say, sucking up his pride and opting to try and learn from everyone else, Katsuki doesn't really change strategies or approaches. He essentially does what he was planning to do since the start of UA; he's only crying because, SURPRISE, people are better than him. You'd think he'd expect that considering he called his middle school crappy…

After the USJ, once everyone had their "Lol Bakugo sux" moment on the bus ride, we get to the Sports Festival and everyone is clamoring to join Katsuki's team despite his apparent unapproachability. This feels less like something happened in the two weeks leading up to the Sports Festival, and more like history repeating itself from middle school. Moving on to the tournament, we don't even get to see how capable Katsuki is at serious combat. Two of his matches resort to Deus Ex Machina pulls, and the other two are in his corner by principle instead of difficult.

First off, Katsuki vs Ochako. I don't know why people praise this fight. For starters, it makes Katsuki HEAVILY OoC. Ochako is the only person he asks if she wants to back out before the match even starts. The ONLY person, which kinda undermines the whole "he didn't underestimate her" thing. Then he takes a reactionary stance the entire battle. Like, I thought we were still dealing with the "fist first" Katsuki. He does this to Eijiro, Fumikage, even Shoto, but Ochako? Stay still and then attack. Even if he did get his gravity removed, couldn't he just… propelly himself and let her have it. If he was proactive, he could have ended the fight quicker. Instead, he just plays sitting duck and headless chicken. If you're gonna have Katsuki win the fight, don't bulls*** it.

Which brings me to the final bit of that fight: the meteor shower. Having Katsuki blow that away after supposedly expending most of his energy earlier in the match just does NOT sit right. Ochako gets the upper hand, and then you just… negate that? You expect me to believe that Katsuki could generate an explosion at that magnitude, if nothing else? And what exactly does that do for him in the end? No one else tires him out for the remainder of the festival, which is pretty sketch.

(And yeah, I know I know "What part of her was frail?" but that's more of a retrospective thing than in the moment, coupled with the facf that it's never elaborated on again in any capacity, with Ochako or with someone else. It's a throwaway moment; a waste. Moving on…)

You really can't say much about the matchups with Eijiro and Fumikage. With Eijiro, it's an endurance match, and Katsuki apparently has infinite stamina and is on the attack. And he just… rushes him, which I'm pretty sure anyone else would do. Then with Fumikage, Dark Shadow is weak to light. Katsuki's explosions emit light on contact. Do the math.

And I am especially mad at Katsuki vs Shoto because one, he stays in place yet again at the start of the match, and two, he can apparently ignore his Quirk' weakness to low temperatures. In a gym uniform. Against a glacier the size of a building. Even with his power output, you don't see his explosions dampening in magnitude. It's obviously in his favor, which defeats any tension the fight could have had. It sucks, and in the long run, as a wise man once said, "Todoroki should have folded [his] ass."

Then we get to the Final Exams (ABOUT DAMN TIME) and… Katsuki hits Izuku for trying to cooperate, nearly gets knocked out once, and gets knocked out the second time around. He does not want to work with Izuku despite it being All Might, is petty enough to consider losing, and actively grumbles against working with Izuku. And all of his supposed self-preservation goes flying out the window when he's willing to try and beat All Might, leaving Izuku having to come and carry this boy out of the gate, which should not have let him pass.

Then there's the Training Camp attack. The second Izuku is mentioned, Katsuki decides to go AWOL, and while being kidnapped sucks, I am less sympathetic when you're boneheaded enough to help them capture you because you wanted to fight villains instead of getting to safety like the professionals recommended, all because of your one-sided hatefest with one of your classmates. Congrats, you played yourself.

Then we get to the Provisonal License Exam, which feels like a step in the right direction… until you realize this will boil over into Deku vs Kacchan 2, which will get both of them in trouble, which will give Katsuki insight into OFA while Izuku gets shunned by his classmates, and which will prevent Katsuki from the one ass beating that could have potentially taught him something. It's essentially the narrative covering his ass, and then he has the gall to be happy about other people potentially getting set back just because he was set back. Geez dude.

The Cultural Festival essentially undoes what the Remedial Course Arc accomplishes, having Katsuki look down on the rest of UA when he said NOT to look down on people earlier. And then his speech is still heavily antagonistic to the rest of the school, and to the idea of basic human decency and kindness in general. And if I'm being honest, that whole "he can play drums" feels like a big ass pull to keep him in the spotlight. At least the story brought back his ability to cook down the line.

The Joint Training Arc is just shoe horning in regards to Katsuki. It acts like his gearing up towards saving, but the circumstances are heavily, heavily in his favor, and not in a good way. I've already brought up how Katsuki won't get "saving" until the Endeavor Arc, and how here he's just doing it to show off, so I won't go into it here. Then apparently he gets to outwit a recommendation student 'cause why not? It makes him look more impressive than he actually is, even though he outright states he hasn't changed much if at all. Not to mention the narrative makes it sound like he was some sort of underdog, even though he only got kidnapped and didn't get his license. And I know those are big things, but not enough to warrant his victory feeling that triumphant. I'd probably buy it if he didn't win the Sports Festival or pass the Final Exam. Keep him in that slump for longer than you actually do, or it lessens the impact. And let's not forget, he might have been willing to help Izuku with Blackwhip via fisticuffs, but the second he realized he wasn't getting anything out of it, he noped out. And it's been what, almost 200 chapters since his "starting line?"

I don't have much to say during the Endeavor Arc (that was its own can of worms), but as for the War Arc thus far… here's what I mean by "whiplash." The arc begins in Chapter 253. By Chapter 257, Katsuki will demonstrate how much he just does not give a f*** about Izuku's mastery over OFA so long as it looks like he'll come out on top. By Chapter 274, when Izuku's gotta split, it'll look like Katsuki has been thinking about some stuff, but by 275 he's gonna throw that out the window so he can attempt to one up Tomura and Izuku, and then he'll nearly get killed for it. And we won't know what exactly Katsuki is thinking until a flashback in Chapter 284 (which chronologically takes place after 257), where he has a conversation with All Might about his past with Izuku. Or at least the bullet points. If you're me, the start of the conversation feels less about Izuku and more so about his situation: his situation with OFA. And as much as I want to believe there was at least one good kernel in Katsuki that he was too stubborn to let out with Izuku, I feel like Katsuki only brings up him and his capabilities now because he got a Quirk. That's what put him on Katsuki's radar. That's what forced Katsuki to take notice of Izuku, what caused him to be unable to ignore his own weakness. Because of a Quirk. That's… borderline shallow, if not remarkably so.

And even when Katsuki is attempting to save Izuku in 285, his first thoughts are still on OFA. And even if we go by the line of thought that Katsuki is thinking "Even if OFA sucks, it's still Izuku's Quirk." And that's nice and all, but the flashback makes it seem like the Quirk is still All Might's Quirk as well. That all of Izuku's worth is hinged on the fact that he got a Quirk now and therefore can't be written off. Maybe he doesn't owe this to his accomplishments, but the narrative is terrible in its implications that Izuku wouldn't have gotten as much attention without it. At the end of the day, Katsuki is still associating Izuku's worth with his Quirk. And as much as I want to vaguely, vainly hope that this will change later on, I'm already at my limit

...and now that I've said my piece on almost the entire narrative thus far, let's shift gears to a few more tidbits in 285.

Again, the flashback. I think it's significant that they're shifting the focus briefly on middle school again. But you wanna know what sent me the wrong way? They didn't include the god forsaken suicide instigation. They can show Katsuki gloating. They can show Izuku up against a wall. They can even show a notebook and Izuku's face during the Sludge Villain rematch. But they can't show Izuku reacting with sorrow mixed with almost fury. That can't show Katsuki threatening him with a mere "What?" and the sparks on his palms. They can't show Izuku standing and crying, small and defeated.

"BUT HORI SAID HE WENT TO FAR WITH THAT SCENE!1!" Blah blah blah, doesn't change the fact that it still happened. Doesn't change the fact that it should be addressed, at any capacity. Doesn't change the fact that the story had the balls to recall middle school but couldn't bring itself to remember the one thing that could get its audience raising eyebrows.

But that's alright, it gave you the notebook; clearly it's done enough.

And maybe in another timeline, I could have let my jaw drop when Katsuki was hit and the chapter title was revealed. "Katsuki Bakugo: Rising" It would have been pretty damn powerful too.

...but with all the previous crap the narrative has pulled, it feels like more shoehorning. It feels like more Erasehead stepping in and shaming the audience. It feels like more All Might letting Katsuki in because he's not completely familiar with the finer details. It feels like more people. In narrative parroting that Katsuki changed when he does the bare minimum, as a hero or as a person. I can't treat this development legitimately, because so many other "legitimate" developments pulled a "psyche!" and headed out.

So, I'm done. I'm done with Katsuki, done with hoping his development will be done in a somewhat satisfying manner. Done with people telling me "it's actually good though!" like I'm blind and deaf or something, when I have enough brain cells to formulate my own opinions, and we both have enough brain cells to leave each other alone if we don't agree. Maybe when the series ends and we can all look at this in hindsight, and Katsuki has either found a way to redeem himself, or remain deplorable, I might talk about it then. But for now. I'm drawing the line. I might talk about what we've gotten up to this point, but everything past 285 I'm taking with a grain of salt. 'Cause I'm sick of hoping for something that obviously won't come through, and it's better for me and everyone involved if I just pack up and move on. BNHA isn't just Katsuki's story after all.

And if you made it to the end of all this… I hope you'll either respect my opinion, or respect my thought process. That's all I can ask.

-Crimson Lion (27 September 2020)

167 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years ago

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I'll show you~ Can I please get a drabble of Yoongi as a roommate? Because I think that'd be an amazing IDEA- like srsly, he'd be the one to tell u to wake him early for his work stuff and then get grumpy in the morning and refuse to even moVE out of the bed and u have to bribe him with something to wake him up for hiS WORK. And he will most likely say "no" to any chores in the house but still do aLL of them nonetheless. aND though he hates hugs on occasions he might even ask for cuddles???

across the living room

pairing: yoongi x y/n

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: you’re yoongi’s alarm clock, he aLWAYS acts that you’d be the bane of his existence, and his cooking actually tastes good if he wakes up early enough for it!!

notes: thank u so much for ur request baby i have nevEr written something so fast ever in my life because i was so :’’)

yoongi isn’t necessarily a bad roommate

of course nOt!!

because bad is relative and everyone has different variations of a bad roomie

he wasn’t messy or anything like that

it’s just the occasional clutter that he’d clean up himself

he isn’t rude either

well okay “rude” is aLSO relative

just because yoongi could be a little condescending most times

like when yOU do the grocery shopping and the first thing he’d do is look through the bags with some certain hums of approval

nice nice you picked the kimchi that wasn’t on sale because it was gonna expire the very next week like what you did with the last time

your picking and judgement for carton eggs are actually improving!!!

yoongi once called you an idiot for not smelling the carton of eggs first and in your defense you were in a hURRY

ok but he do be right they did stink the last time

hmmmm decent snacks

“why did you get this milk? i already told you to buy the other brand!! it has like a difference of three dollars and gOd if you’re short on it then ask me for it”

can that be called rude and condescending <3

or after yoongi’s milk tirade, he then goes picking at the other groceries you’ve gotten

you got less greens this time because if you’re being honest you’re getting sICK of seeing spinach and celery all the damn time

you’re the one who mostly cooks anyways and yoongi still insists that you use them

you could have a bagel for breakfast and hE’D PUT SPINACH ON IT

you’re getting a bit fed up with the color green nowadays so you got more fruits than vegetables!! frozen berries and yogurt are the superior match!!

there’s the “too-sweet diabetes are you trying to kill yourself y/n look at the nutrition fACTS” cereal

the “we have an obsessive amount of chocolate-covered almonds. stop it already. i’ll throw this out i’m not even kidding” almonds

the “why did you buy three boxes they’re all the same thing it’s not even delicious anyway” mozzarella sticks

the “this tastes like cardboard i swear why won’t you just get the individual ingredients that i told you to” cake mix

and of course

the “why did you buy tampons already? napkins, also?? it’s not even your period yet” tam-

wait a minute

... h-hold on

did yoongi really just

you must have froze and he must have noticed too because well that’s a surprise you’re nOt huffing with his digs

“you knOW my cycle???”

he doesn’t really know why it’s such a big deal that he shrugs at your pointless question and just continues piling on the cupboards

“yeah, don’t you?”

b-but

wHAT

“i don’t even tell you wHEN i get my period!! why do you know that??”

“you don’t need to tell me, stupid.”

ok rude

but seconds of all hOW does he know

you can’t even talk about yourself to yoongi or even tell him how your day went because he’s just.,.,.

yoongi could sense the internal meltdown in your head and he just chuckles because you’re entirely clueless

or maybe he’s just extremely observant of you without even noticing

there’s a pile of paper bags that the two of you keep because rECYCLING <3

and he always sees atleast one or two disappearing from the pile when you have your period because you’re nOt just gonna discard it to the communal trash can

you’re not a monster!!!

the snacks go by a little more quickly this time

you’re a little mORE demanding but just a little

like when yoongi has the news on when you eat dinner and you’re side-eyeing him

ok he’s already turned the volume down

you still look irritated at him

“.... y’want me to change the channel?”

lol and you have a zit somewhere on your face that yoongi could point out but he chooses not to

instead he just leaves around his box of pimple patches lying somewhere and you dOn’t scold him for that and you know what

maybe you’ll stick some to your face you deserve it ok

it’s affirmative that you’re rEALLY shocked to how yoongi explained all this to you effortlessly

“i bought them because it was a buy one take one deal :((“

that’s all he could hear from you as you mumble under your breath because now you’re just speechless

wow

your roommate cares about you,,,,

MIN YOONGI CARES ABOUT YOU :D

care may be a little bit of a reach from observing but it’s okay you dOn’t care lol they’re probably synonyms anyway

there’s good days!!!

those are probably your happiest days when yoongi initiates a conversation with you that doesn’t involve him intentionally pissing you off

or when you can make him laugh and he looks like the most adorable being EVER you swear

you tried taking pictures of him but he has a radar for it and he immediately holds out his hand to reach out for your phone and effectively cover him

that’s all you have

pictures with yoongi’s hand on focus and him blurred in the background

adjusting to yoongi’s rhythm always varies because well he dOes vary

there’s days when he completely deadpans at you for no apparent reason at all

or when you just need someone to squeal with!!

like that time you got the highest score at an exam that was claimed to be difficult and you were jumping up and down while trying to shake up yoongi

and he looked annoyed for some reason and him not sharing your sentiment,, probably even hating it,, already put a dampener in your mood :((

or that time you went on an angry monologue of why he won’t contribute to doing the chores and how you do everything

from sweeping the floors and doing the dishes and taking out the trash and even cooking!!!

you even fold the clothes and you can’t even remember how yoongi managed to convince you to fold his clothes too

with that he just pursed his lips before putting his attention back to his phone

“no.”

unbeknownst to you though, yoongi does his share of chores more evidently this time around

most times he just does his part when you’re in your room and lately he’s been slacking

ok i’ll help you out i guess ://

sometimes you just want to do nice things for yoongi okay

there’s already a set routine that you follow and adapated to for his sake

you now wake up at four in the morning for hIM and that just depends if he’d wake up within the next thirty minutes

the first actual “friend” unlike roommate intercation you had was yoongi telling you to go knock on his door early in the morning

absolutely dON’T stop knocking until he wakes up and opens the door

sure his four in the morning compared to you staying in is a much much mUch earlier time

but it’s okay because it’s for yoongi! :D

the first time you did that? yoongi raised his voice at you because wHY ARE YOU KNOCKING ON MY DOOR???

“b-but you told me to!!”

“oh. right. thanks.”

lmao he kinda simmered down after that and you took this job to heart

you have now evolved into cooking breakfast BEFORE knocking on his door

you just care for yoongi perhaps

but you won’t delve into elaborating that just yet

today’s breakfast was waffles!!

but they’re special waffles of course!! kinda like a s’mores situation in between the two

little marshmallows that you put in your ice cream and in your drinks and within two seconds they shrivel up into nothingness

crushed biscuits that resemble graham and maybe it would be easier if you just buy graham crackers itself lol

of cOurse some chocolate chips!!

they’re leftovers from when you decided to buy a big bag of them

and yoongi asked you on wHy the hell did you buy these in this huge quantity

“i’ll melt them because i aLSO got those silicone molds on sale!! including the stars and the seashells!!”

“you do know that these are solid... and you’ll melt them into liquid... only for them to be in the same way you bought them in..... just in a different shape....”

“oh my gOd yoongi just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting!! fine then, i’ll split these with jimin instead”

“did you even ask if i wanted them in the first place???”

anyways besides those waffles lol

you also made dalgona :D instead of yoongi’s preferred dark black coffee :D

you tasted his one time and it tasted like death and liver and charcoal all at the same time

this is a GOOD morning okay??

last night you couldn’t sleep that well because you had a thought

a really, intricate, awe-forming thought

there’s such a thing called work husbands, right??

do apartment husbands exist

lol of course if your husband does live in the same apartment as you do

you’re probably making a reach and yoongi doesn’t care about you in the same way that you do for him

but it just makes you think :((

these things that you’re doing, with and for him....

they’re things that you do with your boyfriend ya know

you’re essentially a couple if you think about it further

you’re under the same roof and you do things together and well

the only thing missing is the aCTUAL commitment itself

this was why it’s a good morning

jimin, your friend that’s just down at the end of the hall, managed to convince you to try and hINT atleast that you like yoongi

to be clear

you’ve only known jimin for three weeks and you feel like you’ve done much more progress with him than you ever did with yoongi for five months

it was when he asked you for your notes and you told him that lol you had nONE and the both of you just laughed for like five minutes straight

yoongi still won’t buy that story no matter how much you tell him that it’s true

with his hunch he thinks you’re actually fuck buddies with jimin because you’ve been sneaking off at night right when he closes his door and tHAT’S when you go to jimin’s room

to be also clear

ok yes you might like yoongi

perhaps a whole ton as what you decide because he’s been effectively plaguing your mind and your senses

and the oNLY reason you’ve been going to jimin’s is to talk to him and freak out on what you should do

because you know that yoongi is a sensible person and if u give him even the slightesy whiff of a hint that you like him, he’ll catch on instantly!!!

at the same time it’s like.... so be it....

yeah if yoongi doesn’t return your feelings then you’ll completely understand

things would be awkward for awhile aha

and if yoongi decides to move out because of you? no problem yOU’RE the one who’s gonna move out and let yoongi keep the apartment

jimin’s roommate is leaving soon anyway

see? you’re already equipped for rejection!!!!

aha that’s not necessarily a bad thing but it IS a heartbreaking concept

but here you are

so whipped to the point that you might just cave and put everything in a tray so you could set it on yoongi’s bed

that does seem to be the case because you’re knocking and knocking and he wON’T answer

this is an important day for him anyways because he gets his evaluation today!! and you can’t have him late and hungry and sad now can you

“yOONGI ARE YOU-“

“god, why do you have to be so loud??”

“i told you-“

wait a second

that voice doesn’t belong to yoongi

and the person in front of you, most certainly, isn’t yoongi.

oh that’s nice

she’s wearing yoongi’s shirt from the night before

you don’t recall someone else being in your apartment because after all, you and yoongi are the only roommates

and that yoongi doesn’t even have any visitors

it takes a second for you to connect the dots at hand

it’s okay :)

it’s cool!

this way you’re already heartbroken without prolonging it and bringing it upon yourself

it was bound to happen anyway

yoongi was more than a handsome and skilled and capable man and someone like him wouldn’t stay single for perhaps forever

“o-oh, sorry. uhm help yourself to breakfast, or uhm go back to bed, i guess. if you could just, w-wake up yoongs? i think he has something important at work today, oR well atleast he told me so.”

holy fuck

that was a mess

you’re a mess

there’s no need for confrontation or researching or anything like that because there is absolutely no reason for it lol

you’re a mere roommate to yoongi and you’re just acting like it.

he finds you weird these days

you’re not... bothering him

you’re not trying to linger around or pester him with your usual presence

you only come out when you’re going out for class or for work or for something else he can’t even imagine

which was weird

because yoongi oddly enough misses the white noise you provide

he knocked at your door yesterday and he wasn’t really sure on what to say so he panicked and said “aren’t you supposed to vacuum today?”

which is actually true!!!!

you just got the vacuum and your..,., earphones???

and put them in????

wait shouldn’t this be the time that you try to talk over the vacuum and ineffectively yell as you try to make conversation with him???

this time you’re just silent and probably enjoying the music that’s playing and yoongi couldn’t be anymore confused

he goes to his room when you vacuum but this time he stayed just because he wanted to test the waters ok

he didn’t put his feet up so you could vacuum underneath

he just got one tap on his calf and he wordlessly complies aND HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY HE DID IT SO EASILY

he was supposed to bicker with you :(((

did he... do something??

well he didn’t forget to take the trash out and made sure not to flood the showers this time

fuck it fine that’s IT

he even cooked dinner tonight and he knocked at your door and those are two rare occurrences in the sAME sentence

“y/n, don’t make me regret doing this.”

that’s an empty threat ok he really just wanted to cook for himself and coincidentially made enough for another portion for you

or atleast that’s what he convinces himself

yoongi reaches the end of his wick and he’s about to look for one of your hairpins and pick at your lock

one thing he hasn’t taken into account is that oh,,, your door’s open

there wasn’t really a reaction when your door creaks but there is one but it’s from hIM

because you’re bundled in your comforter and you look different and that’s when he presses his hand to your forehead and you’re tOO HOT

“why didn’t you tell me that you have a fever??”

there’s no room for him to enunciate him being upset because he’s worriedly getting you things to nurse you back to health ok

there’s the wet towels and the water and the medicine!!!

there’s him checking underneath your comforter and you dOn’t have any socks on so he’s getting that alright

yoongi’s third most-prized possession probably is his gravity blanket he spent a pretty penny on and here he is,,, carrying it over to you so you’d be more comfortable — the food he just made you but maybe he should make some soup for you to easily digest

yoongi just felt pure panic seeing you like this ok

you running a fever and being the complete opposite of bubbly but won’t take shit atleAst 5/7 times from him and would argue with him to hell and back

were you starting to get sick the days before so that’s why you were distant??

or was it the other way around

there’s this utmost feeling of concern looming in yoongi’s chest and he even tried clutching at his chest because what iS this

he almost forgot that you’re sleeping and that you barely talked to him at all despite helping you out of his own accord

“you’re here but you’re not yOu!!!”

god he’s just so frustrated because he isn’t used to this and frankly he’ll never be

yoongi’s chewing on his inner cheek and he knits his brows trying to figure wHAT happened, his index finger poking and tracing at your hand that’s laid snugly on your pillow

“you’re already here but why do i keep missing you?”

313 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

Note

Platonic loceit, 26- “Hold on. You’re telling me that you want to go out to the creepy woods in the middle of the night on a full moon? Really? Really?” I'd really love if you did something fluffy, but do whatever takes your fancy!! And congrats on 500 followers!!

@halfordshysteria dsflaskdf i love this prompt so here, have some urban fantasy and/or high school au

Title: the woods are just trees

Word Count: 2,031

Content Warnings: ment. of not-great parents

(fic masterpost)

Janus is woken by a gentle, persistent tapping on his window.

At first, he tries to ignore it, tries to roll back over and go back to sleep, but the tapping continues undeterred, and finally, he sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes. His phone helpfully informs him that it is 2:16 in the morning, which might not be so terrible if he had stayed awake to get here, but to be woken up at this time is absolutely egregious.

So, he does the only rational thing and stomps across the room, flinging open his curtains, ready to rip into the genius that thought this was a good idea.

And then pauses.

From the other side of the windowpane, the genius that thought this was a good idea gives a little wave, motioning for him to open the window, and Janus glares even as he acquiesces.

“Logan,” he hisses, “what the hell?”

Logan blinks at him owlishly, as if it’s not the darkest hours of the morning, as if this is a regular occurrence, as if Janus’ parents won’t kill him if they find out that he’s speaking to his friend through his window at this time of night. And Janus wants so badly to be angry, and he is, but some part of him is intrigued, wants to know what could possibly be so urgent as to prompt a clandestine meeting of this sort.

“Good morning,” Logan says, infuriatingly casual. “Would you like to come harvesting with me?”

Janus stares, dumbfounded. That… does not sound urgent.

“Logan,” he says, “are you aware that it’s two in the morning?”

“Of course,” Logan says. “Two eighteen, to be precise. I would have been here sooner, but this was the earliest I could slip out.”

He says all of this matter-of-factly, as if this meeting was entirely expected, just delayed. Logan does this sometimes, forgets that the rest of the world doesn’t move on his speed. What is obvious to him is not always obvious to everyone else, and while Janus is sure that Logan believes he has a good reason for being here, he is also sure that Logan has entirely overlooked the fact that he needs to elaborate on just what that reason is, rather than expecting Janus to know.

“It’s two in the morning,” he reiterates, deciding that he can’t possibly put too fine a point on this fact, “which is typically when people like to be asleep, Logan. Just what do you want to go harvest that can’t wait until a more reasonable hour, or for that matter, that you can’t do with someone who doesn’t mind being sleep deprived?”

Logan completely ignores his acerbic tone, which is typical of him. He unslings his bag from his shoulder and goes digging inside of it, coming up with a weathered brown notebook. Janus recognizes it easily, and recognizes the contents as Logan flips through it, the meticulously drawn diagrams, the notes written in cramped, slanting handwriting. Logan takes his studies more seriously than most of the practicing alchemists Janus has met, and this notebook contains years’ worth of research. He guards it zealously, and the fact that he trusts Janus enough to allow him to see it never fails to astound him.

“Here,” he says, and holds the page out for Janus’ inspection. Janus takes the book gingerly, eyes flicking over the entry that Logan indicated. The illustration is a delicate depiction of a tangle of vines, thin and curling and glowing pale blue. Infused Moon Ivy, it says, and Janus frowns as he reads the description.

“Grows only on fall nights with the wind blowing from the east and a blue moon in the sky,” he says doubtfully, and looks up to meet Logan’s eyes. “These conditions are met?”

Logan smirks at him, pointing upward. Janus follows the direction of his finger, and sees the moon hanging in the air above them, shining bright and full.

“There is a strong easterly wind tonight,” Logan informs him. “And though midnight is the most traditional hour for gathering components such as this, three o’clock should serve nearly as well. If I can find some, its properties should successfully balance out the sunflower essence in my memory enhancement project.” His voice rises with his excitement, and Janus nervously casts a glance behind him, as if the additional noise will summon his parents. It’s unlikely, but still, he would really rather not have to try to explain this to them.

“Your notes also say that it only grows in dark, damp places,” he points out, letting his weariness bleed into his voice. “We’d have to go out into the woods.”

Logan nods. “Well, yes, it would be a bit of a walk, but if we left now, we would arrive in plenty of time to begin a search.”

“That’s not my point,” he replies, and resists the urge to sigh. “Just, hold on. You’re telling me that you want to go out to the creepy woods in the middle of the night during a full moon? Really? Really? You don’t know what kinds of things might be out there. What if we run into a werewolf?” He pauses. “Gods below, I sound like Virgil. But you get my point, right?”

Logan frowns at him, adjusting his spectacles. “Well, yes,” he says. “However, I believe the chances of running into a werewolf at all to be slim, much less one that would wish us harm. And in the case of other creature, magical or otherwise, I have brought precautions.” He shakes his bag, as if to make his point. “The usual preparations, silver and iron and salt and the like. But I hardly believe that the fae will be waiting to ambush us in the local park. In fact, I’m not sure that your standards of ‘creepiness’ match mine at all, if you believe that the woods there are unsettling.”

Janus breathes out through his nose. Logan has a point, as usual, and truly, he doesn’t believe they’ll be at much risk. It’s only that this is very much not how he wants to spend the rest of his night. Especially not on a school night; on weekends, it’s a fifty-fifty chance as to whether his parents will let him sleep in, but the option is out of the question on weeknights. And he won’t be able to claim sickness to get out of school attendance either; he’s fairly certain that his parents would force him to go even if he was actually dying.

But looking at Logan, at the slight flush in his cheeks and the barely restrained motion as he rocks back and forth on his heels, he is tempted. Improving the standard memory enhancement potion has been Logan’s passion project for months, and he looks as if he truly believes that this will be a breakthrough.

And Logan came to him. Not any of their other friends. Him.

“You wouldn’t rather somebody else go along?” he checks. “Virgil, perhaps? He has an odd knack for tracking down magic.”

Logan’s brow furrows. “I am aware,” he says. “But Virgil is not the one who has been supporting me as I work on this. If it’s going to be anyone, it should be you.”

Something in his stomach does a little flip at that, a delighted twirl. He has known Logan for more than three years now, since the moment they were alchemy lab partners their freshman year of high school. Janus had expected him to react the same way everyone else does upon meeting him, to stare at the left side of his face at the very least, the side that has been covered in thick yellow scales since the moment he was born. Most people recoil, and some even scream; school up to that point had been a lesson in ostracization. From the very start, his peers labeled him disgusting and unclean, no matter how many times he tried to explain that his curse is not contagious, that he was born with its effects already in place, that he never did anything to deserve it.

Even his own parents dislike him, though they try to disguise it. They push him constantly to do better, to be better, as if academic achievement will make up for the fact that in their eyes, their son is permanently disfigured.

He expected his high school years to be no different than the rest of his schooling. Expected to end up alone once again. He’d even persuaded himself that he didn’t mind, prepared himself for the bullying, for the name-calling, prepared himself to hear snake and freak and monster. That is, if anyone bothered to acknowledge his presence at all.

But then, Logan looked at him as if he was a person. As if he was no different from anyone else. And Janus spent their first few lab sessions on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the disgust or the fear to come, because surely, surely it had to be there. But aside from a few questions about his curse and the way it worked, worded clumsily and asked awkwardly, but startlingly genuine, there was nothing.

And for the first time in his life, Janus had a friend. Someone who liked him, who wanted to get to know him. Someone he could talk to, rely on, be with without having to stay on his guard.

To this day, he’s not certain that Logan understands how much that meant to him. Still means to him.

“I understand if you don’t wish to accompany me,” Logan says. He tries to sound nonchalant, but Janus picks up on the minute slump of his shoulders. “I… do realize that it is rather late. My apologies, I don’t believe I thought this through all the way.”

Janus sighs, feeling a reluctant smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I’m awake now, aren’t I?” he says. “This is absolutely how I wanted to spend my night, but you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if I let you go by yourself and you ended up trapped in a faerie circle or something equally embarrassing, and we can’t have that.”

Logan makes an offended sound, but he, too, has begun to smile, the light returning to his eyes. “I’ve never been trapped in a faerie circle in my life,” he says. “I know better than that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right, because you’re always so good at remembering to watch where you’re going,” he says. “Give me a moment, let me grab a jacket and shoes.”

Logan waits patiently for him as he tugs on a few layers to ward off the fall chill. When he’s sufficiently bundled, he clambers over the windowsill, landing softly in the grass by his friend’s side.

“I expect you to have me back before my alarm goes off,” he says. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that my parents will murder me if they find out I’m doing this.”

And Logan grins, and somehow, that makes Janus feel worlds better. “Of course,” he agrees. “I imagine my parents would as well. Perhaps they would bury me next to you.”

“How poetic,” he quips. “We’ll have to have Moon Ivy planted on our graves. Lead the way.”

He gestures, and Logan takes the lead, and together, they set out. It feels a bit like an adventure, like the world is just made up of the two of them and everything else is silent and still under the cover of night, only the moon to light their way.

It takes half an hour to get to the park, and twice that long to find any ivy at all, and by that time, Janus is cold and more than a little bit miserable. But looking at Logan’s face, elated and filled with wonder as he takes the first clipping, tiny and glowing blue in his palm, Janus can’t help but think that this was worth it.

Especially when Logan turns to him, staring at him with that same look of wonder, of excitement.

Yes, Janus thinks. Definitely worth it. And really, that’s all there is to it.

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle

#loceit #platonic loceit #janus sanders #ts janus #logan sanders #ts logan #my fic #cat does prompts #halfordshysteria

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dreaming-in-alicante · 4 years ago

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New chapter is up! Way longer than I planned it to be, lol. I mention Grace training with a bow and arrow in this chapter and now I'm just thinking about how awesome it would be for her to bond with Gabriel over archery.

Chapter 2: Taking stock

Grace jolted as a loud bang echoed through the basement. She was grateful that she had set down her glass beaker a moment before, else she surely would have dropped it. She whirled swiftly around, locating Christopher, and was relieved to find him startled but unharmed. Still, she asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said, inspecting his shirtsleeve where a hole had burned through. “My apologies. It turns out that combining a Swiftness rune with my current modified rune does not in fact make a message travel as desired, it just causes the message to explode,” he said, unfazed. He had been working on another long-time project, a way to send messages in an instant. “Perhaps I should take a break and return to this project later when Henry is around to consult with. He should be back from Idris next week.” Christopher bent to write something in his notebook, then made his way over to Grace’s station where she had a solution refluxing over a Bunsen burner. “How are you getting on with the synthesis?” he asked.

Grace had been working her way through some of Christopher’s old notebooks. The best way to gain scientific knowledge, it turned out, was to do the experiments yourself. She was attempting to replicate his results on past projects. In the process, she was learning basic techniques and becoming comfortable with the various instruments and chemicals in the laboratory.

“It seems to be going well,” shee told him, “although the solution is a darker yellow than you have described in your notes.” This began a very informative discussion about reaction conditions and the purity of compounds. By this point, it was starting to get dark outside, and so Grace finished her experiment and tidied up somewhat. “I’ll see you – not tomorrow, with the family day– Sunday then?” she asked.

“That’s right! I had nearly forgotten,” Christopher said, smiling. “My parents have – wait a moment. I thought we were inviting you and Jesse over! Oh heavens, I hope I wasn’t in charge of telling you,” he said worriedly.

“They did remember to invite us. Jesse will be there,” Grace assured him as she located her coat.

“And you won’t?” Christopher asked, head tilting in confusion.

“I thought it should stay strictly family. Jesse will always be my brother, but Tatiana was never truly family. And I share no blood with you all,” Grace explained. “It all worked out anyway because I… actually have family of my own that I’m meeting tomorrow. Cousins, or technically second cousins, around my age who are coming to London on some business this weekend.” She had sent a letter to her father’s cousin soon after everything had happened, and quickly gotten a response.

“I didn’t realize you had contact with the remaining Cartwrights! That’s wonderful then,” Christopher said jovially. “Have you met them before?” he asked.

Grace shook her head. “Perhaps as a young child, but not that I can remember,” she told him. “They were thrilled to hear from me though. Apparently, they sent letters infrequently over the years. Tatiana,” she said, fists clenching, “never let me know about them, and evidently sent short replies to tell them that I was well, but didn’t want to see them.” It was just one more cruelty Tatiana had inflicted.

Christopher frowned and said solemnly, “I’m very sorry Grace. That’s a terrible thing. I’m sorry that you had to suffer under her for so many years.”

“The important thing is that I’m free of her now,” Grace told him. She had to leave so that she could meet Jesse on time for training, so she quickly put on her coat and started out. “Until Sunday, then,” she said, bidding Christopher good evening before she left.

_________________________________________________________

Grace felt unusually light as she made her way home. It was incredible, she reflected, how so much had changed in just over two weeks. Spending her day in the laboratory was strangely peaceful, despite the occasional explosions. For so many years she had been defined by other people: she was Tatiana’s obedient girl, Jesse’s loving and determined sister, Tatiana’s weapon. In the lab, with Christopher… she was learning how to just be Grace.

Things had also improved outside the lab. Bolstered by a new confidence, Grace had finally accepted Jesse’s offer to join him in training. She was pleased to find that she remembered much of the training they had done together before he died. Over the years she had practiced when she could, but those times were rare with Tatiana prowling the house at odd hours. She was fast becoming skilled with a bow and arrows. She was also learning quickly with a Seraph blade, an entirely new weapon, although she doubted she was yet proficient enough to effectively wield them against a demon.

It was immensely satisfying to train and think how horrified Tatiana would have been. Grace wore dark gear rather than pale silk and lace dresses, hair kept in a simple braid instead of elaborate styles. She was gaining muscles and callouses, as well as covering herself in marks to increase agility, speed, accuracy, and so on. She was no longer Tatiana’s flawless porcelain doll. Even when not training, Grace now preferred simple dresses – necessary when she spent extensive time in a lab where spills and fires were always a risk.

Grace usually joined Jesse for training either quite early or quite late in the day, when fewer people were at the Institute. Jesse would share new techniques that he had learned and spar with her, as did Lucie on the days she joined them. Lucie had warmed again to Grace somewhat, although she still was a bit awkward whenever Cordelia or James came up in conversion. Another wonderful outcome of training was a tentative friendship with Ariadne that began when she encountered Grace and Jesse while training one evening. Ariadne confessed she had been unsettled by the revelations after Grace’s trial, but she bore Grace no ill will. They had started trading book recommendations.

Three friends made in three weeks, Grace thought, quite a change after a lifetime with none. Well, perhaps she had friends before her parents died, but if so, she did not remember them. Although it was difficult to tell whether she was truly friends with Lucie and Ariadne quite yet and not just familiar acquaintances. Grace didn’t entirely know how a friendship worked, how one should interact with friends. However, she was sure that Christopher could be counted as a genuine friend. They spent lots of time together and talked about numerous topics and weren’t those basic elements of a friendship?

_________________________________________________________

Sunday came quickly and Grace arrived in the lab early, eager to start a project she had considered for several days – organizing chemicals and other supplies in the lab. There was a system, vaguely, but she felt it could be much improved. She saw Christopher do a double-take when he arrived a half hour later and realized she was there.

“Grace! Good morning. You’re early. Or am I late?,” he asked, perplexed.

Grace felt a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Up to this point, she had always gotten to Grosvenor Square later in the morning. “I arrived early today,” she said, alleviating Christopher’s confusion. “I’ve been getting to work on organizing all the chemicals and other compounds. I am also creating a more thorough inventory.”

Christopher appeared pleasantly surprised. “Capital idea, Grace!” he said. He examined the inventory list she had started, and offered a few suggestions for the layout.

“Jesse said you all had a good time together yesterday,” she said, hoping to make conversation as she started rewriting labels that were stained or faded on various vials.

“We did! It was a fine time having the family all together and talking to Jesse,” Christopher said happily, “although there was a small mishap when I tried out another rune combination.” His smile turned sheepish as he added, “Unfortunate, but my mother said the important thing is that no one got hurt, and she believes the sofa can be salvaged.”

Grace smiled slightly at the story, comparing it to the version she had heard from her brother. Jesse’s description of the incident had included a fairly large blaze that nearly set Sophie and Gideon on fire, a good deal of shouting, and the confiscation of Christopher’s steles for the remainder of the evening. “Jesse did mention something about an accident,” she said mildly.

“How was your visit with your cousins?” Christopher asked.

“Splendid. They were both very kind, and easy to talk to. I’ll be keeping in contact with them now,” Grace replied. Truly, it had been a pleasant afternoon with her two cousins – Samuel, Grace’s age, and Sarah, three years older. They had exchanged telephone numbers, and the two had extended an invitation for Grace to spend a weekend with them in Idris at the end of the month, to meet their parents and other siblings.

_________________________________________________________

They were working in companionable silence that afternoon when a voice that Grace recognized as Thomas Lightwood’s called “Hello Kit!”

“Afternoon, Tom!” Christopher greeted him as Thomas stepped into the lab.

“Oh, and Grace. Good afternoon. Kit and Jesse mentioned you were helping out now,” Thomas said, looking a bit unsure.

“Hello, Thomas,” Grace said simply in reply. She turned back to the bench and busied herself inspecting a bottle, putting on a new label, and marking it in the growing inventory list. She had seen Thomas several times in passing, and he came up fairly frequently in conversations with her new mutual friends, but she had not spoken with him directly. She was grateful when Christopher began updating Thomas on his research, and Thomas’s scrutinizing gaze moved away from her. Evidently Thomas had stopped by early to catch up with Christopher before the Merry Thieves all went out that evening.

Grace did her best to avoid Thomas as she moved around the lab to get various chemicals or use different instruments like the microscope. She did have to interrupt their conversation at one point, calling Christopher over to inspect a vial, because did it actually contain demon poison? (It did – from a Raum demon to be precise) Several minutes later she searched for a bottle that she swore had been right in front of her. “Christopher, have you seen the hydrochloric acid?” she asked.

“Hm, I’m not sure that I have,” he said, searching around slightly, but keeping his attention largely focused on pipetting a solution.

Thomas sighed but smiled fondly as he plucked the bottle in question from among the glassware in from of Christopher. “It’s right here,” Thomas said, then walked over towards Grace. “There you are,” he said, handing her the bottle.

“Thank you,” Grace replied, taking the bottle from him somewhat clumsily. He started to turn, then halted.

“I know everything’s all still a bit awkward, but – especially after talking with Jesse yesterday– I just want you to know that I don’t hold anything against you, Grace,” Thomas told her earnestly. “Goodness knows I’ve made bad decisions myself. And when I imagine myself in your situation – if I’d had the opportunity to get my sister back,” he said, swallowing hard, “and only Aunt Tatiana for company, well… I’ll just say that I can understand your motivations. I hope that we can be on amiable terms.” He looked very sincere.

“I – er, thank you. I appreciate it,” Grace said, uncertain how to respond. That seemed enough to satisfy Thomas, however; he nodded at her and made his way back to Christopher’s work station.

The atmosphere was much less tense after that, but it did not last long. Christopher was somewhere upstairs, changing from his burned and stained lab clothing into something he was allowed out in for the evening, when she heard more than one person coming down the stairs. She looked up to see alarm rising in Thomas’s expression, and turned to see James and Matthew as they greeted Thomas.

“Ah,” James said, he and Matthew halting as they saw Grace. “Miss Blackthorn,” he greeted her coolly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” His expression indicated that he would have much preferred not to see her ever again.

“It’s Cartwright again, actually,” Grace told him, fiddling with her pen, unsure what to do with her hands.

“Good afternoon, Miss Cartwright. What are you doing in my father’s lab? Are you planning to seduce Thomas or Kit now?” Matthew asked, voice bright with false cheerfulness.

Grace struggled to restrain her temper at the insult. “I am here to study science, and work on research with Christopher. I have been doing so for the last several weeks, in fact,” she said evenly.

“Science? You’re here to learn about science? With Christopher?” James asked, as he and Matthew stared at her incredulously.

“You expect use to believe that?” Matthew asked, eyebrows raised. “That you have suddenly been overcome with a burning interest in science, have come to the Consul’s house, and you don’t have some ulterior motive?”

Grace took a deep breath. “I am interested in science. I never had the freedom to pursue it before but I find it exceedingly fascinating. I am trying to find a place for myself, and a purpose. And Christopher,” she emphasized, “has no issue with my being here.” She stared them both down. “I know I did you terrible wrongs. I have apologized, to both of you, and many others. I don’t know what else you expect me to do,” she said in an icy tone. “And even if you doubt my sincerity, you must have by this point heard that my power was removed. Ask your mother the Consul,” she said, gesturing at Matthew, “or ask Jem Carstairs and the other Silent Brothers.”

It was at this tense moment that Christopher returned, changed into clothing that had not yet been stained or burned. “James, Matthew!” he greeted them happily, then seemed to finally register the fact that everyone’s expression looked strained. “Is something the matter?” he asked confusedly.

“Yes, somewhat,” James said. “You somehow forgot to mention that Miss Bla- sorry, Miss Cartwright has been helping you in the lab?” He stared hard at Christopher, face showing his disbelief.

“Yes, Grace has been helping. It’s been quite a good time so far,” Christopher said, still looking quite baffled. “Did you want to help too?” he asked, looking between both James and Matthew.

“We’re not upset because we want to help in the lab,” Matthew burst out, “we want to know why you not only invited our – our nemesisinto my family’s house, and neglected to even mention it!”

“Grace is our nemesis?” Christopher asked, looking even more bewildered.

“Kit, do you not remember the entire ordeal over the past few months? In which we discovered that for years Grace used a bracelet and demon powers to control my mind? Under the direction of your crazy aunt and my demon grandfather?” James asked with great exasperation.

“Oh that!” Christopher said, looking pleased that he had finally figured out what they were discussing. “Yes of course I remember that. Grace apologized! She feels very badly about all of it,” he stated, apparently expecting that to settle the matter.

“Kit, we are telling you that you can’t be sure of her intentions. She could still be up to something,” Matthew said.

“I am not-” Grace began to retort, but was cut off as Matthew continued, “It’s just that you have to see how it looks, you suddenly being all friendly with someone who is a known manipulator who, for very good reasons, does not get on with your friends?”

“Thomas has Alastair around all the time, and we never used to like him either,” Christopher said stubbornly. “I don’t understand why we can’t also be friends with Grace now too.” Thomas sputtered, clearly uncomfortable having his still-new boyfriend brought into the conversation. Up to this point he had been hovering nervously, eyes darting back and forth as his friends argued. “Grace has apologized,” Christopher continued “She’s here because she wants to pursue science, and seeing as neither of you spend much time down here, you wouldn’t see her much.”

Grace was astounded to see ever-cheerful Christopher looking slightly angry. His friends looked quite surprised as well.

“Also,” Christopher added, “isn’t it rude to be arguing about Grace while she’s still in the room?”

Clearly taken aback, James said, “I didn’t mean to…I – look, Kit, just…” His mouth tightened as he glanced at Grace, then back to Christopher. “Gwyliwch eich cefn. Mae hi'n aml yn dweud celwyddau,” he said in some odd language.

Christopher answered him in the same language, his tone still uncharacteristically sharp. “Hyderaf hi.”

The cousins stared each other down for another moment until an abashed-looking Matthew cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “We’ll go wait upstairs, I think,” he said, tugging James towards the stairs.

They left, and Christopher told Thomas that he’d be cleaned up in a minute if he’d like to head upstairs too. Thomas did so as Christopher capped his open test tubes and turned off the Bunsen burners, face still pensive.

Grace broke the uneasy silence. “I’m sorry to put you in a difficult spot with your friends, Christopher.”

Christopher looked appalled as he replied, “No, I’m sorry Grace. I suppose I never thought to mention that you were helping in the lab now. I didn’t think about how they would react if they just saw you down here.” He sighed. “I’m never sure what to tell which people, or predict how they will react,” he said sadly. “I think they’ll come around though,” he added, brightening. “I’ll talk to them tonight. Maybe if I just tell them about the experiments we’ve been working on, and your organizational system…”

Grace began cleaning her station as well, but she still had a remaining question. “What was it that you and James were speaking? Was it some demon language?” she inquired. She had not yet covered any demon tongues in her training.

Christopher gave a small, surprised laugh. “Not a demon tongue actually – Welsh. Although my father does like to say it’s quite unnatural,” he said, amused.

Grace hadn’t connected the pieces. She had known that James spoke Welsh. It would make sense that his cousins would speak the language as well. “What were you two saying?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Christopher looked somewhat uncomfortable, avoiding her gaze, instead focusing on his notebook. “James warned me to watch my back because you’ve been known to lie,” he said finally. He looked up, now meeting her eyes, and said sincerely, “But I told him that I trust you.”

Grace looked back at him, overwhelmed by his earnestness. “Thank you, Christopher. You don’t know how much that means to me,” she said softly, and her cheeks suddenly felt a bit warm.

“Of course!” Christopher said. “You’re a wonderful lab partner. As good as Henry.”

Coming from Christopher, who greatly admired Henry, Grace recognized that this was indeed high praise.

“I should be leaving now,” he said, grabbing his hat. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Have a good time tonight.”

Christopher smiled at her as he left. Grace wondered what it meant that she felt an odd fluttering in her stomach at that. And as she made her way home, she kept replaying the moment in her mind where Christopher looked earnestly at her with bright violet eyes and told her that he trusted her.

#finished writing this instead of studying oops #gracetopher #tlh #fanfic #my fic #grace blackthorn #christopher lightwood

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