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twstarchives · 4 years

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Scary Dress・Voice Lines

● Event: Scary Monsters (October 14 - November 26, 2020) ● Exclusive Cards: Deuce, Kalim, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Azul, Jack, Jade, Vil, Cater

Deuce Spade - R

Unlock Card “This school event is meant for everyone to have fun. I’m going to make sure this Halloween’s a success!”

Groovy “You’re not getting away from me... I’ll scare you till you're trembling to the bone!”

Home Setting “I’m a skeleton ghost that’s risen from the grave! BOO!”

Home Transitions “These are our special costumes, so make sure you’re careful with them. Grim, that means don’t claw on the lace.”

“When I was a kid, there were times when I used to start sobbing because I thought there was a monster outside. But it was actually just the laundry drying out there... Oi, stop laughing!”

“I got some treats from Epel. There’s a lot of them, so I thought I’d share with you. You know the secret code, right?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! You just can’t help but get excited around this time of year.”

Home Taps “I saw Draconia a while ago. Seeing him walk around in that serpentine dragon costume so valiantly made him look cooler than ever.”

“I got a text from my mom—she said she wants to see my costume. I don’t mind sending her one, but I don’t know how I feel about taking a selfie... Prefect, could you take one of me?”

“I’m used to seeing the ghosts on campus, so they’re not that scary. Our terrifying dorm leader Rosehearts, on the other hand...”

“Viper fixed the lace on my hat for me. I feel like the vice leaders in every dorm are really caring.”

“Hey, you! You want me to bury you!? S-Sorry. I was practicing my scares; I didn’t mean to say that to you, Prefect.”

Kalim Al-Asim - R

Unlock Card “Are you all ready to have some fun? Alright! Come on and follow my lead! One, two—Happy Halloween!”

Groovy “Grr... Pain shoots through my body whenever I look at the full moon. You better watch your back if you start to hear some howling.”

Home Setting “Growl! I’m a werewolf now.”

Home Transitions “Rook knows a lot about wildlife, and he told me all kinds of things about wolves. It was really useful.”

“I always carry around candies this time of year. This way anyone can tell me ‘Trick or treat’ anytime!”

“My magic carpet seems pretty excited for Halloween too. I’m competing with it to see who’s the scariest!”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “A party that everyone’s stoked about—that’s what Halloween is! Let’s have fun together! Growl! Growl!”

Home Taps Whine! Grrrrr! Bark! *cough!* “It’s hard trying to sound like a wolf...”

“I feel like it’d be so much more exciting if Cater, Lilia, and I dressed up for our band performances. Don’t you think so?”

“Jade said his costume is a mummy. If you wore clothes like that in the Scalding Sands, you’d get so hot that you might actually turn into one.”

“I like this costume; its design is really reminiscent of the Scalding Sands. Plus it’s easy to move in. It fits for dressing up as a werewolf.”

“Hm? You want to try scaring me? Spare me from any tricks, though. Ahaha!”

Epel Felmier - R

Unlock Card “Boo! Did I spook you? Hehe. I’ll come scare you again if you let down your guard.”

Groovy “Struggling against me is useless... I think. You won’t get away from me.”

Home Setting “Now, Halloween has begun!”

Home Transitions “Wah! Oh, crap!¹ I stepped all over my cloak. If Vil saw me, he’d get mad and say ‘It’s not proper to run around like that.’”

“I carved some of the pumpkins that are decorating the school. Mine have ghosts and our dorm’s emblem on them. Try to find them, okay?”

“Hey, have you seen the decorations on Main Street? They’re all so pretty, and really marvy².”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I think this is the first time I’ve celebrated such a festive Halloween. In my town, the festivals feel a lot more scaled down.”

Home Taps “Halloween celebrations in my hometown are never this big, but I can promise you the food’s always delicious. I want you all to come see it someday.”

“Riddle got really passionate when we were talking about the treats for Halloween earlier. Sweets are just amazing, aren’t they?”

“I’m a first-year just like Deuce and Jack, but I wish I could scare as well as they do. But only practice makes perfect!”

“Tremble in fear! ...No. That’s not menacing enough... Ah! What if I put ketchup around my mouth?”

“Huh!? A treat? Sorry. I finished handing all mine out. But I’ll peel an apple for you later, so don’t give me a trick or anything... Okay?”

Idia Shroud - R

Unlock Card “E-E-Even I get excited for events sometimes... Is that bad!?”

Groovy “Anyone who sees what’s beneath my helmet won’t be leaving here unharmed... Hehehe!”

Home Setting “Wahaha! The Pumpkin Knight has arrived!”

Home Transitions “Every time Ortho tells me ‘Trick or treat,’ I give him some candy, but earlier he got mad and said ‘Let me have a trick too.’”

“You need to know your etiquette to have fun with events. That’s true no matter what world you’re in.”

“This time of year, they’re always having tons of huge events in gacha games. I’ve got an overwhelming lack of free time.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Weheehee~... Happy Halloween. Huh? Why are you making that face? Is it that weird to see me pumped up?”

Home Taps “Hiding my face under a helmet really lets me relax. The downside is it’s a little hard to breathe, though.”

“Wh-What are you dressing up as? Don’t tell me you’re just going to throw on something basic like a headband or a hat and call it a day?”

“They say lions are members of the cat family, but... Sir Leona is not soothing in the slightest. Hah~ I wanna nuzzle a cat...”

“You can say it. There’s no such thing as a nerd that hates Halloween!”

“Weheehee! I made this using a 3D printer, so it’s got really nice durability. ‘How much did it all cost’? Well, if you want to know, it was on sale.”

Malleus Draconia - SR

Unlock Card “Halloween is a festival observed by both the living and the dead, regardless of one’s race. You, too, should enjoy yourself as much as you can.”

Groovy “I’d make anyone tremble in fear with a single breath of fire. Watch me.”

Home Setting “I’m not dressed up as a dragon. It’s a serpentine dragon.”

Home Transitions “The students in our dorm seem very pleased with our costumes. They were all cheering with joy. This was well-worth the trouble.”

“Lilia knows a lot about many nations’ versions of Halloween. He told me stories about them instead of his usual lullabies. That was a long time ago, though.”

“I saw two pumpkin knights around campus. The smaller one was floating, so I’m assuming they were the Shroud brothers.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I’ve experienced many Halloweens, but this year seems especially chaotic.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Trick or treat!... wasn’t it? If you don’t give me a treat, I’ll have to trick you. What will you do?”

Home Taps “The red serpentine dragons from the Far East, which our costumes were based on, could even play folk instruments. Hm... How very interesting.”

“I caught Asim practicing his wolf howls. He’s lacking on the impact, but it does have a charm to it. Heheh.”

“Halloween in the Valley of Thorns is especially grand. It’s a different take on it than other countries have, but you should come see it someday. It’s beautiful.”

“If you hear a strange noise, don’t automatically assume it’s the work of a ghost. Faeries love playing tricks all year round.”

“This tail? Mine is not an accessory; it’s real. As curious as you might be, don’t get too close. You’d be easily flicked aside if you got hit by it.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I’ll set fire to anyone that harms your dorm, just like a serpentine dragon would. I’m fond of that place.”

Lilia Vanrouge - SR

Unlock Card “Halloween is my home ground ♪ I can’t wait to see the surprise on everyone’s faces.”

Groovy “Do not underestimate me. You might end up finding yourself trembling and unable to sleep all night long.”

Home Setting “Growl! How was that? Did I sound like a dragon?”

Home Transitions “On Halloween Night, the goblins who served the Fairy of Thorns would gather around a fire and dance all night long. You probably wouldn’t expect them to be party animals!”

“I remember the day I met a real-life serpentine dragon in the East like it was yesterday. Its crimson scales were truly a sight to behold.”

“I like eating most sweets, but marshmallows are the only ones I can’t do. It doesn’t feel like I’m eating anything; they aren’t satisfying.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat... What? You’re already used to my tricks? Then I’ll have to bring out my trump card.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “If I were a real dragon, I could give you a ride on my back. But instead, why don’t I give you a piggy back ride?”

Home Taps “Hnn... The decorative horns on my cap are so heavy. Malleus really has these on his head at all times?”

“Aren’t my red nails cute? Vil painted them for me. He told me these were called gel nails—long-lasting nail polish.”

“Silver and Sebek used to be such crybabies. The mornings after Halloween, I’d have to spend the whole day doing laundry.”

“Have you seen Ace anywhere? He’s always eating Trey’s sweets like he really likes them, so I made some for him as well.”

“Oh, oh! It’s dangerous for someone of my stature to have a tail almost touching the ground. Try not to step on it either.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Achoo! Sorry, sorry. This peacock feather tickled my nose.”

Azul Ashengrotto - SR

Unlock Card “The Mostro Lounge is currently offering a special Halloween menu. You must come and see!”

Groovy “Let’s have all the fun we want tonight. Now, let me hear you scream all the way up to the moon!”

Home Setting “How do I look? It’s very stylish with the way it revisits the old-fashioned sort of mummy, isn’t it?”

Home Transitions “If these were my own tentacles, I could move them freely at will, but that’s not true with these bandage wraps. I have to pay close attention to my movements.”

“Of course we have Halloween celebrations under the sea. Although, unlike on land, merpeople don’t exactly wear costumes.”

“I ran into Silver with this costume on, and he yelled ‘The enemy!’ before pulling out a baton. ...He must’ve been half-asleep.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Halloween only happens once a year. Let’s have the time of our lives together.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Did I hear you say ‘Trick or treat’ just now? Offering me of all people a deal is quite bold of you.”

Home Taps “I have an affinity for the costumes Jack and the other Savanaclaw students are wearing. They look like ghosts you’d find at sea, don’t they?”

“I referenced dishes that my family serves for the Lounge’s limited edition menu... Oh, my family runs a ristorante.”

“I’ll hold back on the treats, thank you. Accepting more and more of them will only increase my calorie intake for the day.”

“The reason we chose mummies for our costumes? I’m very unfamiliar with them, which made me all the more curious. After all, you can’t have anything dry under the sea.”

“What are you in such a rush for? I understand feeling excited, but you must be discreet when getting ready to scare someone.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You must come see Halloween under the sea sometime! It’s just as fun as the academy’s.”

Jack Howl - SR

Unlock Card “Dressing up as pirates fits for Savanaclaw, since the guys here are all brutes. When you want something, you take it!”

Groovy “On Halloween, it’s ghost territory. Make sure you be careful when walking around at night. Grr...”

Home Setting “My scares aren’t just for show.”

Home Transitions “Scarabia dressed up as werewolf ghosts. They really nailed the ears and tails.”

“When we were making jack o’ lanterns, Ruggie kept eating the pumpkin seeds. Do those taste good...?”

“The pirate costume fits Leona really well. He’s lazy and vulgar—ahem! He comes off as strong and powerful.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! It’s nice with all these decorations and festive energy. Wanna walk around together later?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I was getting tired of all these sweets, so I got some jerky. Want any?”

Home Taps “Ace and the others swear that anything Trey bakes is to die for. I wonder how his pear compote would... N-No, nevermind.”

“I used to want to be a pirate when I was little. I remember making treasure chests by myself and filling them with coins and sparkling jewels. Those were the days.”

“Pirates have to aim their cannons and do a lot of heavy lifting while onboard. They’ve got to train hard.”

“I almost never wear rings, so I’m scared these might fly off at any moment. Plus it’s hard to move my fingers.”

“Oi! Stop prodding at my costume! What’re you going to do if one of the seashells breaks off?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You haven’t put on your costume yet? The ghosts will come to kidnap you if you don’t hurry and change.”

Jade Leech - SSR

Unlock Card “I’ve been expecting you. Today I have a most wonderful scare prepared for you.”

“We’ve been working hard to ensure that everyone can spend a wonderful Halloween.”

Groovy “The sight of you screaming as you try to hurry away... It’s irresistible. I cannot hold myself back from chasing after you!”

Home Setting “Who would like to be tied up in fear?”

Home Transitions “You want to see me when I’m frightened? Heheh. I wouldn’t mind you scaring me anytime you’d like.”

“There is no such thing as using pumpkins as lanterns under the sea. I was very shocked learning about culture on land when I was a freshman.”

“Have you had a chance to try out the Mostro Lounge’s limited edition Halloween menu? I contributed a recipe to it.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat! Heheh. There’s no need to look so frightened; I won’t bite.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Oh, my. Were you hoping to play a trick on me? I have a treat on hand, so please spare me today.”

Home Taps “I helped Ruggie with making jack o’ lanterns. They’re very quick, cheap, and beautiful. How fitting.”

“Dryness is fatal for merpeople. If we were dried up like a mummy... Just the thought is horrifying.”

“Floyd, don’t eat too many sweets. It’s different while we’re in the water, but here we have a high risk of tooth decay.”

“The draping wraps on our costumes resemble jellyfish tentacles. They’re pretty, aren’t they? I like their asymmetrical design.”

“You seem to have a wish to join the world of mummies. First, I will wrap your whole body in bandages, and then dry you out... I’m only joking.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Halloween under the sea? If you’re interested, I will show you around one day.”

Duo Magic Jade: Azul, we cannot waste any more time. Azul: Let’s be efficient about this, Jade.

Vil Schoenheit - SSR

Unlock Card “Are you prepared to pledge yourself to me? It’s a great honor to be the sustenance of my beauty.”

“If I’m participating in this, then I’m going to aim for quality that transcends all previous Halloweens. Please keep up with me.”

Groovy “How unfortunate; there’s nowhere left for you to run. Yield yourself to me and become my slave.”

Home Setting “You will be a victim to my fangs.”

Home Transitions “Vampires, who possess eternal beauty... This is a perfect theme for me, isn’t it?”

“It would be difficult to check my appearance if I couldn’t see my reflection in the mirror. Perhaps I’d have to check with Rook between every class.”

“The other day, I was drinking tomato juice in the evening, and Epel screamed at me. How rude.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trick or treat. Although, I don’t need any sweet treats. I’m sure you can guess what a vampire would want... Heheh.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Have you flipped your sleep schedule like a vampire’s because it’s Halloween? Make sure you don’t stay up too late.”

Home Taps “I don’t usually carry around treats with me, so last year I fell victim to Lilia’s tricks. That was honestly unpleasant.”

“You should carefully deliberate over your parasol and choose one that has strong protection from the sun. Don’t forget sunblock either.”

“Floyd’s skin is very beautiful. Makeup sits exceptionally well on moisturized skin, too. Always remember to moisturize.”

“My father is an actor, and for every Halloween he would come home in a costume with special effects makeup. I wonder if perfectionism runs in the family.”

“Even a single strand of hair out of place is something to pay mind to. Could you fix my hair for me?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “My cloak has enough cloth to wrap around a person. Should I hide you inside it if any scary ghosts come by?”

Duo Magic Vil: Let’s end this nonsense right here, Lilia. Lilia: Leave it to me to guard you from behind, Vil.

Cater Diamond - SSR

Unlock Card “I’ll fill you all the way to the bone... with fear, of course ♪”

“Aha! Are you surprised with how off things feel now? Let me show you Cay’s charm, now that I’m a touch different for Halloween~”

Groovy “You’re not thinking you’ll be able to get home safely now that you’ve dug me up, are you?”

Home Setting “Don’t you think my costume’s super aesthetic!?”

Home Transitions “The pumpkin pie Trey always makes this time of year... Mm, it’s not too sweet, and it’s sooo good~!”

“Did you see Lucius today!? He was wearing a super adorable pumpkin hat... I can’t believe Professor Trein~!”

“Sebek-kins really loves Malleus~ He’s got a reputation among the third-years for being the passionate Draconian.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Happy Halloween! How about we take a picture to commemorate?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I have a feeling this year’s going to be the funnest Halloween we’ve ever had. You should be excited too, Prefect!”

Home Taps “I really like how our skeleton-looking laces are so elegant. Our dorm uniforms give off more cutesy vibes; it’s super different.”

“A black veil holds many mysteries... Heheh. You’re always free to lift it up anytime you want, Prefect! Just kidding.”

“Heartslabyul’s costumes last year? We were pirates! Wish you could see Cay as a pirate~?”

“The whole campus gets super festive and exciting around Halloween! And all the decorations are so photogenic.”

“Black makeup smudges easily, so you kind of need to have advanced skills to use it. Does it look okay right now? It’s not smudged?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “What are you dressing up as, Prefect? Come let me know when you have it ready. I wanna take a pic~”

Duo Magic Cater: “Jack, lend me some of your aesthetic support!” Jack: “This’ll be a breeze, Cater!”

#twisted wonderland #scary monsters #events

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wiltingofthewhitelily · 3 years

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Long Days, Lovely Nights (DenNor)

A/N: Hey! So this was a request I got on Wattpad! Fluffy DenNor, just like the person asked for, where the two are exhausted college students. Denmark’s human name will be Matthias, while Norway’s will be Lukas.

Hope you enjoy!

---

AU: Human/College AU

»»————-　➴　————-««

Lukas stared at the mind-numbing TV screen as the man on it droned on about whatever it was that he was talking about—Lukas didn't even know. He picked up the lukewarm styrofoam mug of coffee (leftover from his part-time job at a coffee shop) and the greasy bag of tacos (which he'd picked up on his way home from said job) that he had sitting on the table in front of him to have it closer—a weird combination, Lukas knew that, but he honestly didn't give a fuck. He was tired, hungry, and could already feel the beginning of a headache pounding through his temples. Just great.

He set the mug in a small cupholder on the sofa and unraveled a taco from its thin paper and took a large bite out of it. Oily, cheesy, and absolutely delicious. He opened his mouth again for another bite before he'd barely swallowed down the first.

That's when he heard the sound of his apartment door open and close. He knew it could only be one person—his roommate and boyfriend, Matthias. "Hey, Matthias," he greeted without even lifting his head, "what's up?"

He heard a groan and then saw Matthias walk in. His already wild blond hair was even more fluffy, poking up in all different directions (Lukas swore Matthias' hair had a mind of its own), and Lukas could see the sweat on his blue t-shirt. He held his own two bags of fast food. "Tired," he finally responded. "But hey, at least Al grabbed us some burgers on the way back from campus."

Lukas nodded. Matthias walked up to the couch, sat next to his boyfriend, and reached a large hand into his own bag. He pulled out a burger and held it out toward Lukas. "Want one?"

Lukas shook his head and motioned to the tacos in his lap. "Ah," Matthias responded. "Well, that means I paid for two meals for nothing." He pouted a bit, looking down at the huge meal that Lukas assumed was in the bag.

The Norwegian couldn't help but feel a bit bad. He knew he should've waited to get food. "Sorry."

Matthias turned toward Lukas, smiled, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry," he said giddily. "More for me." And with that, he took a big bite out of a juicy cheeseburger.

Lukas turned back around and continue to watch the TV, feeling content just to be by his boyfriend's side on a tiring night; in fact, the more he smelled the aroma of Matthias' cologne near him, the more he felt his headache ebbing away slowly. It was almost magical.

Lukas got done with his food quickly after that, with Matthias following closely behind, slurping down the last of his soda as he rolled up both his bag and Lukas'. He went up to throw everything away and then flopped back down on the couch. Lukas was still huddled in his thick, soft blanket, a small stuffed bear in his lap—he didn't want to get up. But, both he and Matthias knew they would have to in order to complete some homework.

"C'mon, man," Matthias said after a little bit, patting his boyfriend's knee; he hated to disturb him, he really did, but the work had to get done. "We need to finish some work."

When he heard no reply, Matthias leaned his head down a bit to look at Lukas, his wide heart-shaped mouth forming a grin. "We can watch a movie afterward..." Matthias added, hoping that would encourage the smaller man to get up.

Lukas rolled his eyes a bit, sighed, and then stretched, signaling he was finally about to get up. "Okay, deal," he said. "Sounds like a plan."

Matthias smiled wider and got up, with Lukas trailing behind him, still a bit reluctantly. How is it that everything Matthias seemed to do, he did it with glee, happiness? Lukas would never understand it. One of the things he wished most in the world was to possess the carefree, optimistic attitude about nearly everything that his boyfriend had.

»»————-　➴　————-««

"Aaaaaand...done," Matthias declared as he typed out the final word of his twenty-page essay. He swore, nothing, absolutely nothing, beat the feeling of finally getting a huge project like this done. Hurriedly, he pressed submit, logged out of all of his ten tabs, and closed his Mac book with a slam. He blew out a big breath and rested his sweaty blond head on top of his laptop. After a few seconds, he lifted it again and looked over at Lukas. The Norwegian was still glued to his laptop, blue light reflecting off his indigo eyes, the sleeves of his loose sweater sliding down past his wrists as he chewed rapidly on a fingernail.

"You almost done, Luka?" Matthias asked.

After a few moments, Lukas nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen. He furiously typed on his keyboard for a few more moments, before making a few clicks and then shutting his laptop too. He flashed Matthias an exhausted look of victory, grinning a little and flashing him a thumbs up.

Matthias made a 'woo!' sound and stood up, pumping his fists into the air. "Movie time!" he declared in a deep sing-song voice.

"Yes," Lukas agreed, getting up too, "finally. Thank God."

"You can say that again," Matthias replied with a smirk.

Soon, the two were sitting next to each other on their leather couch, watching a comedy. They were snuggled up close, with Matthias' arm wrapped tightly around Lukas, and Lukas burying his head against Matthias' strong chest. Lukas had to close his eyes slowly, dreamily, every few minutes—Matthias' cologne mixed with his natural scent smelled so lovely, the steady sound of his heartbeat so soothing. He loved Matthias.

Lukas began to fall asleep, not even the sounds of Matthias' loud laughter every few minutes preventing him from doing so. He was just so stressed, so drained, so tired, that he needed more than a good sleep—especially right next to his one true love.

After the movie ended, Matthias switched the TV off and, looking down, noticed his boyfriend fast asleep against his chest. He let out a small chuckle (he truly looked adorable in his sleep, with his lips pouted, long dark eyelashes fluttered, and soft snores escaping from his nose) and reached down to lift Lukas up, cradling him close with little effort. He began to carry them to their shared bedroom, toward the back of the apartment.

Just a few seconds passed and Lukas began to stir, eventually muttering out, "Mm...Matthias, no. Put me down."

Matthias hummed. "Hmm...no. I like carrying you, Luka."

Lukas grumbled, cheeks staining red, though he was too tired to protest any more than that. He just let Matthias do his thing—he would probably never admit this out loud, but Lukas liked being carried like this very much, especially by Matthias. His arms were so strong, his grasp so firm yet gentle, that Lukas felt safe as could be.

By the time Matthias placed Lukas in the bed and pulled the covers over him, he was fast asleep again, his body automatically curling to the side as soon as his head hit the pillow. Matthias smiled at this and went over to the opposite side of the bed to get in as well. Trying his best to make as little noise as possible, he pulled the covers over himself and leaned over Lukas a bit to turn off the lamp. Afterward, he too let his head come into contact with the pillow, his droopy blue eyes closing as they faced Lukas' back.

Before finally falling asleep, the Dane rubbed the back of Lukas' hair and whispered, "I love you."

Matthias closed his eyes and just before going to sleep completely, he heard a soft voice: "Mm...love you too."

Matthias smiled widely with glee, butterflies swarming in his stomach, and fidgeted a bit with happiness after he heard Lukas say that. After a few minutes, he calmed down enough to fall asleep peacefully along with his boyfriend, all of his troubles associated with school and work and homework instantly forgotten.

»»————-　➴　————-««

A/N: Ah, maybe I made that a little too cheesy and fluffy :') Sorry, kinda got carried away at some parts lol. But whatever. I thought it was cute lmao. I hope you guys did too, and I hope y'all have a wonderful day!!

#hetalia #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #au #hetalia au #dennor #aph dennor #hws dennor #aph denmark #hws denmark #aph norway #hws norway

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

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FMA:B/BNHA Crossover (2)

Summary: Ed gets stuck in the BNHA world after the end of brotherhood. He starts trying to find a way home and ends up inadvertently working for the league of villains.

Part 1 here

At one point, the ground level of Ed’s building had probably been a nice-looking shopfront, maybe a flower shop or grocers or something more befitting this weird world…like a tech repair store. Now, the ground level doubles as apartment space, large windows caked with dust and grime, curtains permanently drawn to hide its occupancy. Heck, if Ed hadn’t been around to fix the glass with alchemy the ground floor would have been pretty much unliveable. Like many buildings in the area, it was a victim of a villain/hero confrontation which always seemed to generate an obscene amount of property damage. Great for leveraging his repair skills in exchange for free accommodation and about nothing else. Not that the people here saw it as much of a problem.

Ed scowls, flipping his OPEN sign to CLOSED, yanking the door shut, locking up as he goes.

Ed doesn’t quite understand the whole thing, and he had had one of the worst track records for property damage when it came to state alchemists. The difference being that he had always returned to reverse as much of the alchemical damage as he could and if he couldn’t Mustang had some other military alchemist/personal waiting in the wings to see to the problem. Rebuilding here was the responsibility of some external agency or other. Ed is a little hazy on how the system was supposed to work, seeing as the military had little to no involvement with anything hero related. Though, considering how the Amestrian military had been in the process of feeding the souls of its citizens to a loosely defined truth God, maybe that was a good thing. Honestly, researching how this place ran its bureaucracy was low on his priority list.

“Hey! Ed! You’re out early? Off somewhere interesting?”

“Did you see the guy who just came through here,” he asks, eyeing his fellow apartment-liver who seemed to have nothing better to do than loiter outside and yell at people on the street. The greasy-haired man is puffing smoke near the corner of the building with his two equally scruffy friends. They all have a physical abnormally, a lizard tail, claws, bulging eyes, that remind him uncomfortably of chimeras despite knowing it was a result of more quirk bullshit.

The guy blows smoke in his direction, “Big, tall dude? Pretty suspicious looking with the hood and all. I saw him go in. Didn’t see him leave …funny that.”

“Yeah…funny…” Ed mutters, “Did you recognise him?”

“I might have.”

Ed huffs, rolling his eyes and continues down the road. He would leave bribing his neighbours for possible information as a last resort.

He passes the vacant lot holding a near identical half-collapsed block, followed by another nicer looking building, then another, before they gave way to shops and smaller structures. That was something he was still getting used to…the sheer scale of the city. Even Central had barely been a quarter of this city’s size. Luckily, his destination isn’t too far so he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost.

The building he arrives at is taller than the rest and full of office space. The main lift is out of order so Ed trudges up three flights of stairs to the top floor, stomping into the empty reception/waiting area only hesitating for a second before slamming his hand onto the bell sitting atop the front desk.

There is a muffled voice, “I’m coming. I’m coming. No need for that racket!”

The door behind the desk swings open.

“Edward?”

“Hey, old man,” he gives a small wave, “It’s been a few weeks.”

The man, tall, well-built, cropped brown hair, stares at Ed.

“Yeah it’s been a few weeks! You need to check your phone and answer your messages every now and then. You’re giving me grey hairs. More grey hairs!”

“Right…my phone….” He forgot he had it when not using it to help with navigation. Also, messaging was a pain. He had picked up the local spoken language fast enough out of necessity, but his reading and writing were still a work in progress. Lucky for him, this reality had a few languages similar enough to Amestrian that if he really wanted to read something he could get a translation. It still made written communication tricky.

“I'll try and check it more often," he placates, "I’m here for some information about a job I was offered and seeing you know a bunch of the local businesses I thought I would drop by.”

“Information?” Masao Uraraka lets out a long breath, “And there I went thinking that you were going to take me up on my apprenticeship offer.”

Ed shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. The older man grunts, “Well come on through. You’re lucky you caught me in the office. I’m usually on-site supervising about this time. But, can’t do much of that until those idiots at HC Construction.co get the go-ahead from their insurance company.”

Ed slips past and into a dimly lit office space which is surprisingly well organised. Across the wall is a collage of family photos, depicting a woman and young girl at various stages of growth.

“…that’s not your problem though. How have you been kid? Hope you haven’t been in too many fights.”

“Hey,” he objects, “Some idiots need a good punch,” and then adds a little less aggressively, “But no. No fights. I’ve been researching quirks....”

“Quirks. That’s different? Weren't you studying chemistry or something?”

Ed shrugs again, unwilling to divulge much else. Uraraka tended to be nosey out of some misguided notion that he could help Ed ‘get back on his feet’ after whatever tragic backstory he had cooked up for him.

“You’re still living at Old Man Watanabe��s right? He not pulling anything is he? Old coot always tries to weasel more out of his deals.”

Ed can’t help but agree, “He’s been trying to get me to re-wire the whole building. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Of course, this just sets Uraraka off on a round of angry muttering, “Is that right? I can have a talk with him. I’ve told him that he needs an electrician and a proper plumber. He owes me a few favours so I can… ”

“It’s fine,” Ed quickly interrupts. Uraraka had his own problems and family to look after. The guy reminded him of Hughes in that he cared way too much. “One grumpy landlord isn’t worth worrying about.”

Uraraka visibly deflates, “Yes, well, most kids your age shouldn’t be worried about that sort of stuff at all. You should be finishing up your schooling, getting your Japanese up to scratch and studying for college entrance exams. You remind me of my daughter. Stubborn.” He pulls a framed photo from his desk, pointing it at Ed, shaking it for emphasis, “She wants to be a Hero you know. A HERO! Can you believe it! My cute little girl, getting into fights with villains.”

Ed clears his throat awkwardly. Yeah, this guy was definitely this world’s weird version of Hughes. If Hughes had worked in construction and had, you know, not died. This isn’t the first time he has had a picture of Ochako, Uraraka’s daughter, shoved in his face.

“About that information?” He cautiously interrupts and gets another sigh.

“Yes, yes. You kids are always so impatient. What’s this job then? What idiot is going around hiring 16-year-olds.”

“Actually, the guy that came in just mentioned some construction work,” Ed rubs his neck, now slightly subconscious, realising he doesn’t have a whole lot to go on, “he didn’t give me a lot of details, just left this.” Ed pulls out the envelope placing it on the desk next to the assortment of framed photographs and scribbly kid drawings.

With a raised brow, Uraraka pulls it towards him, peering in. The man’s eyes widen and he closes the envelope, frowning, “This supposed to be a down payment in advance of a job, or is it for material costs? Because it’s a bit much for a down payment and nowhere near enough for materials. Not if it’s for anything serious. What sort of work is it? You know I can’t lend you equipment without a licence…but I’ll help you source anything that you…”

“No,” Ed rushes to interrupt, “the guy said it was a sign of goodwill. I take it that’s not a normal thing people do in the, ah, construction business?”

“No. It definitely is not,” Uraraka now looks concerned, “there would usually be a contract for services before any sort of payment. Especially, if you’re going to be working as an independent contractor.”

So that just confirmed what he already knew. Ed continues, “So you haven’t heard about people asking around for under the table construction work then?”

“No. I can ask a few of my freelancers if they’ve had similar offers but I deal above the board with licenced workers only, so it’s unlikely they’ll have heard anything.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He glares at the envelope.

“What did he look like? This man that came in?”

“Oh, he was tall, made of dark purple smoke and had a teleportation quirk…I think. He also asked about my quirk and its limits.”

“I’ll keep an ear out.” Uraraka promises and frowns at Ed, “I hope you’re not considering this offer.”

Ed grunts noncommittally and gets a look of disapproval that reminds him so much of Hughes its almost painful. He tries not to feel disappointed at the lack of answers because coming to Uraraka had always been a long shot. ‘You’re sad, lonely and the only conversations you’ve had this last week were yelling matches with your landlord and neighbours. Uraraka is a nice man. Of course, you would come to him for advice.’ A voice that sounds suspiciously like Al chimes in. ‘I don’t want him to worry. I’m not staying here long. What’s he going to think when I suddenly disappear,’ he snaps back and immediately feels foolish.

Maybe the isolation is getting to him a bit.

“If it's money you need that I’m more than happy to help you get licenced and certified…” Uraraka continues to talk oblivious to the fact that Ed is barely paying attention.

He doesn’t want to settle down and get a popper job or finish off his schooling or talk to youth services or whatever other things Uraraka had brought up in the few months they had known each other. That would be admitting defeat. Also, he had no ID or history and he was pretty sure you needed both to work any legitimate jobs.

“I can handle myself,” he says out loud.

“Yes, you’re worryingly self-sufficient but there is a difference between unlicensed quirk use and aiding and abetting criminals. No self-respecting, above board, organisation hires a kid to do construction work and throws a bunch of money at them.”

“I know.”

Yeah, he knows Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was probably a criminal of this reality. He knows he is probably getting himself into something dicey and illegal but he needs to follow whatever lead he can to get back home. Finding a quirk with either the ability to transport him between realities or one with the power equivalent to a few thousand souls was his last hope of ever hearing Al's, the real Al’s, voice again.

The older man rubs his forehead, visibly exasperated, “But you’re going to ignore me. Stubborn brat.”

#fma brotherhood #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma:b #bnha #mha #fanfiction #CrossOver #edward elric #Uraraka family #dimension travel AU #my hero academia #fanfic

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fanfoolishness · 4 years

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in the long night (Hawke x Varric)

Written for @oneshallop and also up on AO3. They requested Hawke and Varric on the Deep Roads expedition with some early hints of pining. I hope it fits the bill! 2836 words, Hawke, Varric, Act 1 of DA2.

***

It was dark.

Varric almost roared with laughter at the thought. Of course it was dark. It was the Deep fucking Roads, wasn’t it?

Sure, maybe in old dwarven tales these tunnels were supposed to be awash with red-gold, welcoming light, but every kid in Hightown’s dwarven quarter knew the Deep Roads had been overrun centuries ago. There were still some intact corridors here and there where you could see the magma channels lighting the way as they’d been intended… but there were far more lonely and dangerous areas, where the magma had long ago been freed in cave-ins and cooled into just another kind of rock. Those corridors sat empty in the long-forgotten dark.

The thing was, though, it wasn’t pitch black, at least not where they’d set up camp for the night. They had the torches and the campfire made of magelight to thank for that. The orange-yellow of torchlight, the blue-white of mage-fire, they cast deep and disturbing shadows in the dark. It disquieted him. He almost wondered if it wouldn’t be better to let the lights go out, except that was complete crazy talk.

He hunkered down, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. He could sit on this broken lump of rock, but then there was no back support. Sit on the ground and that would take care of his back, but then his ass would start aching. He decided on the floor, groaning under his breath.

This lead of Bartrand’s better pan out , he thought sourly. He cast a glance over his shoulder, where Bartrand and his crew had taken over most of the lower level. Their torches lit the place up a little more, but the murmuring echoes of the mercs he’d hired were weird and distorted in the high open ceilings. He tried to ignore the sound and the way it made his spine tingle.

A rustle at his side. He nearly reached a hand toward Bianca, but this sound was familiar, somehow. Safe. He followed it to the source and saw the elder Hawke slipping out of her tent to tend to the fire, her hair mussed, her robes rumpled.

“Trouble sleeping?” Varric asked.

A startled look crossed her face, followed by a shrug once she realized it was only him. Shadows pooled along her cheekbones, dark semicircles cupping her keen eyes. “I could ask the same of you. Isn’t your bigshot brother paying for extra guards? No need to keep watch, I thought.”

Varric chuckled, letting discomfiting thoughts about the long tunneling dark fade away. This was a good distraction. “You really think Bartrand managed to convince quality muscle to come along with us? Oh, Hawke, he talks a big game, but I wouldn’t trust him farther than I can throw him.”

Her eyebrows leapt up somewhere in the vicinity of her hairline. “You do realize this doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the expedition. Or in the Tethras name.”

Varric waved her protestation away. “Bartrand not having an ounce of charm in his body is his problem. I, fortunately, do not suffer from the same issue. Ergo, I was able to find some decent people for this thing. Such as yourself, partner.”

She let out one of those sharp-edged laughs he was beginning to know well. “You do have quite the silver tongue, dwarf, I’ll give you that.” She bent over the fire, concentrating. It flared up before her, dancing bright blue-white against the shadows.

“Thanks,” said Varric.

“I can’t stand it being so dark down here in the lower levels,” she said, leaning against a chunk of paving stone that had been torn from the main floor. “It’s unnatural.” Then she glanced at him. “Er, I mean, for humans,” she said clumsily.

Varric held up his hands. “Believe you me, Hawke, I’ll moan and complain about the Deep Roads as much as any human. Dwarves get some things right, sure -- they know what they’re doing when it comes to smithing and bullshitting -- but living underground forever, it’ll never play right for me.”

“You were born on the surface, then?” Hawke asked curiously.

“Born and raised,” said Varric. “Family had a nasty fall from grace in Orzammar when Bartrand was a little kid. They were forced to run from their fuckups down here up to the surface. My dad died not long after I was born, and my mother never recovered from the move. Not sure if Bartrand ever did, either.” He gazed into the fire. Silver-white sparks leapt from its flames.

“Oh,” said Hawke, first looking taken aback, then her face softening. “I’m sorry -- I didn’t realize.” She could be startlingly empathetic when she wanted to be, he’d noticed.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Family. Dreadfully inconvenient, aren’t they?” Then again, she was just as likely to laugh the big stuff away, just another joke. He liked that about her. Liked it in himself, too.

He chuckled. “You realize Carver is literally five feet away, right?”

She glanced over at her sleeping brother. He’d said he felt claustrophobic, setting up a tent in a closed tunnel, and had instead opted to sleep out in the open. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few beats.

“Carver’s different,” she said, “despite the way we fight. It’s our fighting, right? That’s the important bit.” She flashed Varric a too-tight grin.

Varric thought of Bartrand, all family name and getting ahead, all Brother, you have to take this seriously or they’ll eat you alive. He thought of just how often he’d been an absolute shit of a little brother, and how much Bartrand had really deserved it (completely, most of the time).

“There’s something to that, I suppose,” he said cautiously. “But Bartrand really is an ass.”

“So’s Carver,” Hawke laughed in that bright, airy way of hers. For a moment, though, her face slipped into genuine fondness. “That’s part of his charm.”

Varric snorted. “That’s one word for it.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Hawke in mock-offended tones. “As the eldest sibling, I’m the only one permitted to say such dreadful things about my own brother. Which I have before, and which I’ll do again, thank you very much.”

Varric shifted positions, sitting up on top of his chunk of rock, seeing if that would help his aching back. Eh. Not much difference.

A thought struck him, one he knew he shouldn’t say. You never talk about the other twin that way. But that was something private, wasn’t it, something he’d only gleaned from weeks of dropped references in casual conversation with the Hawke siblings. At first he’d wondered if Bethany was a cousin back in Fereldan; a distant relative long-forgotten. It’d taken an overheard conversation between Hawke and her mother for Varric to figure it out, and an aside with Aveline, plied with more than a little ale, to confirm it..

He stuffed the information back down, watching the firelight flicker in her eyes. If she wanted to tell him about Bethany, she’d do it, and it didn’t gain him any advantage anyway, knowing the blow she and Carver had suffered. He held his tongue.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she observed. “You never did say what you were doing out here. Something nefarious, I’m certain.”

“Oh, you know me,” said Varric loftily. “I’m just here for the scenery.”

Hawke giggled, loudly enough that Carter grumbled and rolled over before lapsing into a loud snore. She stifled her laugh, just barely.

“Ah, yes. Creepy empty caverns, moldering ruins, the endless dark. You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she teased.

He shivered. Or was he blushing? He wasn’t sure. Something squirmed in the pit of his stomach.

“Where better than the ass end of Thedas for a little romance?” he asked, in a voice that felt a good deal less smooth than he’d meant it.

Hawke wiped a tear away. “This is why I like traveling with you. You’re right. If Bartrand had been doing the talking, Carver and I would never have thrown in our lot with you.” She let out a long breath. “Ah, thanks for that. I’ve been feeling rather uneasy down here, to be honest. A good laugh’s a bit of a relief.”

“Varric Tethras, at your service,” he said cheerfully. Funny, though, that little bit of disappointment threading through his words. Why was he thinking of Bianca now? He shook his head. “Well, Hawke, you’re not the only one with the creeps down here. I thought maybe keeping an eye on camp would make things feel more normal, but turns out the place is damn spooky no matter where you sit.”

She nodded. “I could see my fire fading through the gap in the front of my tent. Didn’t feel right to let it go out. So I’m keeping an eye on it, for now at least.”

“Seems like you’re getting better at them to me,” said Varric. He didn’t know much about magic, but he’d long noticed that Anders was the one running around throwing fireballs while Hawke was much more likely to somehow conjure up a miniature earthquake.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” said Hawke. “Anders is much better at elemental magic than I am, but since he’s still up surface-side, I figured now was a good time to practice. It wasn’t my father’s strength, either, as far as I know. Or maybe he thought it’d be harder to hide fireball lessons out back of our farm.” She shrugged. “But I’m learning things, much as I can with the Chantry breathing down my neck.”

“Maybe it’s for the best Anders isn’t here. I gather he’s spent way more time in the Deep Roads than any sane person would ever want to,” said Varric. He could just hear Blondie’s complaints starting up in the back of his mind.

“It’s one reason why I didn’t ask him to come with us,” said Hawke cheerily. “Felt sorry for the poor fellow. I’m sure he’s enjoying the sunshine from Darktown. ...come to think of it, it’s not that far off from being down here, is it?”

Varric laughed. “Good point. Though sometimes I swear you can see the sun through holes in the walls there… and it smells better here.”

“Do you miss it? Not Darktown, obviously. Kirkwall,” said Hawke. “It’s been… what, a good three weeks now? It’s the longest I’ve seen you away from the city.”

Varric considered. He’d gone on long journeys before, been away from Kirkwall for weeks, even occasionally, months at a time on Guild business, especially after their mother died. Bianca flitted through his thoughts again, Bianca and intrigue and furtive meetings in shitty towns. But none of that felt right to bring up here, not to Hawke with the fire’s reflection in her darkened eyes.

“I miss the Hanged Man,” he said honestly. “Every time I try to lay down for bed here, I just think back to my bed back in the inn, and think ‘Tethras! You’ve gone insane.’”

“Ugh, you and me both,” said Hawke. “I think I’ve got bruises on bruises from all these rocks. Hopefully we’re not down here too much longer.”

“We can always dream,” said Varric, but the words felt hollow in the dark, and he drew his coat closer around himself.

Hawke nodded, but she seemed pensive. “I suppose,” she said. She shifted, sinking deeper into her robes. “Hmph. Well, as long as we aren’t sleeping, care to join me in a snack?”

“Depends,” he said cautiously. He’d had her cooking before. Carver’s was far and away the better meal.

“I’ve been saving these. For a special occasion, as it were.” She rummaged in the pack beside her. “I figured the special occasion would be for when I absolutely couldn’t tolerate another bite of Lowtown hardtack, but what d’you know, sharing it with a friend sounds all right, too.”

“You actually have something good in there?” Varric asked in surprise. The perishable stuff had all gone a few days ago, and he’d started his grumbling about the salted pork that morning, right on cue.

Hawke pulled free a waxed paper bundle, tightly wrapped. “I may have tried a spell of stasis on these,” she said. “I’m still working on the technique, but I think I’ve got it down for little things like this.” She unwrapped the bundle and a tiny flash of light dissipated from the contents, the spell breaking at its maker’s touch.

“Chocolate almond biscuits, from Camille’s in Hightown,” she whispered, looking downright conspiratorial. “It was the end of the night, that last night in Kirkwall. The bakery was just about to close, but I saw them packing these up off the cart outside. The baker’s girl told me they were getting a bit stale, but did I want to buy them anyway, half price? Carver ate his straight away -- didn’t see the point in them getting staler -- but I wanted to save them. Don’t know why.”

Two biscuits sat in their waxed wrapping, delicate golden squares worked with scrolled lustrous chocolate, stamped with the Kirkwall crest. He’d passed them up a hundred times, sweet sugary nonsense meant for nobles with more money than sense. Bartrand would have scoffed. But they smelled amazing.

“Aw, come on, Hawke,” tried Varric. “They’re yours. You should have them.”

“A good biscuit’s better shared, or at least it’s what my father used to say. Probably so as to keep his children from fighting amongst themselves for the last one, but it’s a nice sentiment regardless,” said Hawke. She shoved the biscuits at him. “Go on, then.”

“All right, all right. If you insist. Only because you’re a powerful mage and I don’t want to get on your bad side.” He reached out and took the top biscuit. It was a solid thing, sturdy in the hand. The chocolate beneath his thumb tip began to melt, soft and silky against his skin.

“Cheers, Varric.” Hawke took up the other biscuit and nudged it against his, then took a bite. “Mmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes. “Just as I’d hoped it would be.”

Varric bit into his biscuit. It snapped satisfyingly against his teeth. He tasted buttery almonds first, then a deep, complex sweetness tempered by smooth bitter chocolate. He paused, savoring it. “Damn. No wonder they charge an arm and a leg for these.”

“Worth every copper,” Hawke agreed, a silly grin spreading over her face as she finished her biscuit. Varric finished his a moment later, regretfully licking the last of the chocolate from his fingertips.

“Thanks, Hawke. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

The fire rolled and flared, almost a living thing, fighting against the shadows. He half thought he could see a pattern to it, a heartbeat, a touch of Hawke herself within the flames.

Silence grew between them, a comfortable, familiar thing like the weight of a good blanket. Or the taste of secret chocolate in the dark. It felt good, until it was broken by a yawn Hawke tried to hide.

“You should get some rest,” Varric said softly. “The fire’s a good one, Hawke. You don’t need to worry.”

“Hmm, but I worry all the time,” she chuckled, yawning again. “But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

He felt a pang, though he wasn’t sure why. “Dwarf’s honor,” said Varric. “Assuming you put stock in such things.”

“In yours? Of course I do,” she said. She gave him a tired smile. “All right, then. I’ll get some sleep if you promise to do the same. It wouldn’t do for us to be too tired to carry back our fabulous treasure.”

“Imagine if we’d have to leave it behind due to exhaustion. It’d be a crying shame. We’d never live it down,” said Varric. “All right, you’ve convinced me.”

He got to his feet, his back and ass aching as predicted. He reached out a hand to Hawke and she gripped it, hard, her calloused hand small but steely against his own as he helped her up. “Thanks, Varric.”

“No problem. See you in the morning, Hawke,” he said.

“If you can call it that,” she said. “But I’ll see you then.” She slipped back into her tent, and Varric returned to his.

He stretched out on his bedroll, staring up at the ceiling. The blue magelight -- Hawke’s light -- seeped in through the cracks of his tent flaps. He watched its delicate choreography through drowsy eyes.

They had this. He knew it now in his bones. Bartrand had his team and his map, and that was all well and good, but Varric had Hawke and her people, and he’d put the money on them every time. No matter what they found on this crazy expedition, they’d be ready.

He smiled tiredly. Yeah. He had Hawke.

The tent was still and quiet. His eyes fell shut; his breathing slowed. He drifted off to sleep in the long night of the Deep Roads, still tasting chocolate.

#hawke x varric #hightown funk 2020 #hightown funk #varric x hawke #dragon age 2 #varric tethras

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buginateacup · 3 years

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Bug’s Fic and Gin collection

It’s wednesday night and I’m in the mood to do something a little weird so I’m pairing my gin collection to my Megamind fics. These will be in order of first posting.

Shut up and Ki(ss)dnap me - A short two chapter fic, my first foray into the fandom (though not the first thing I wrote for it). Short and zippy but a delightful finish. Pair with: Ambleside Small Acre gin. Heavy on the botanicals. Rhubarb, bay leaf, apple and cloves give a savoury zing on the palate. On the Palate: Juniper, pine, notes of white pepper, herbaceous and earthy body, slight bite to finish.

The Shoal - A Cthuluesque oneshot mostly about the gods of Megamind’s species and how they followed him to Earth Pairs with: Amphitrite Gin Elixir. A sweeter gin, milder than most but ooh take it slow because it will change your life

Bad Idea - A songfic and the first of the Feral Roxanne iterations. Pairs with: It has to be Chase Sloe and Mulberry gin. Sweet gins aren’t for everybody but this one has a strong flavour and quite strong. If you’re going to indulge in something over the top you might as well make it worth it.

Fishcakes - Why did I torture Minion this way? Minion’s POV but mostly revolves around “Oh good they worked it out...could they stop working it out for five minutes maybe?” Pairs with: Queenscliff Distillery Dry gin. Bitey, very dry. Poor Minion deserves better.

Tea with Topsy - Ah yes...the big one. The slowburn falling in love Evil Queen AU. Specifically without an external catalyst. No Hal, no other big bad, just flirting and phonecalls and a slow slow steep into the darkside with no interest in redeeming the villain or setting them on a path to light. Still a feral Roxanne but also just two actual adults just coming together with the kind of inevitability of a fuse burning down to the explosives. Pairs with: Brookies Byron Slow Gin. Made with Davidson plums rather than sloe berries. Bright and flavourful with a hint of bite. I prefer it over ice.

Behind the scenes - Its just horny guys. What feral Roxanne wants, feral Roxanne gets. Pairs with: Tiny Bear distillery Brew. Coffee infused gin. delicious. Punches your lungs out with the fumes if you’re not careful.

Layers - Roxanne makes self destructive decisions. Megamind makes self sabotaging ones. Nothing is going well. And yet it ends lightly? Pairs with: Larrikin Barrel Aged Gin. This gin has been ‘aged’ in small American Oak barrels, that once held bourbon and then Tasmanian whisky. Strong whisky scent but none of the afterburn. Lingering flavours, best served over ice.

Presentation - Ultimate Alien Megamind, written for a Gift Exchange. Megamind rescues Roxanne, makes better decisions than she does. Quiet and painful. A sequel is coming (eventually) Pairs with: Archie Rose Coast. Strawberry gum, sea lettuce and lemon myrtle, the second most Australian tasting gin I’ve ever had. Delicious.

Rings - The crackfic idea that should not have turned into 80K+ with feelings. And yet here we are. Pairs with: Dasher + Fisher Sloe Gin. One of my favourite gins, very sweet and a serious indulgence. Comes from Tasmania. Extremely delicious and very sweet.

Run - Still might actually be my favourite oneshot. Brains/Brawn/Boss. Roxanne disappears and Megamind and Metro Man team up to find her. Everybody goes Evil because Evil has Standards. Pairs with: Underdog Gin from Applewood Distillery. Anise myrtle my love.

Liminal Spaces - Outtakes and alternate scenes from Rings. Pairs with: Brogan’s Way Hearts Afire gin. Cassia, aniseed myrtle, lilly pilly. Warm and winter.

Date Night - Accidental Evil fake dating, written to have two bastard ferals bang in the car. Somehow needed 10K+ of logistics beforehand. Sigh Pairs with: Tiny Bear Sailor Gin. Extra strength Navy gin and fucking hell I need to finish this fic.

Better the Devil you know - Another Roxanne runs to a supervillain for safety. Happens very early on in their relationship before they trust one another well enough that things would have progressed if it happened a few years later. Pairs with: Roku Gin, a very smooth Japanese gin with a very pretty bottle.

Pomegranate Seeds - Kind of fucked up Hades/Persephone AU Pairs with: Dasher + Fisher Cherry Gin. Sweet but cruel.

and the taste of you sweet on my tongue - Sweet soft soulmate AU where I was more interested in the worldbuilding than the outcome. Pairs with: Dasher + Fisher Strawberry Gin. Very sweet. Nothing to it after that.

No one calls you honey when you're sitting on a throne - Heheheh. Similar to Run wherein we see Roxanne choose Evil. But a lot bitier and immediately destructive. Pairs with: Copperwave Gin from Hunter Distillery. Aromatic and citrusy with a licorice finish.

Hey kids lets rob a bank! - Based on an anon prompt. Two old marrieds just as in love as ever. Pairs with: Greenall’s Wild Berry Gin. Its sweet and light. What more do you want?

Waiting - Very silly. Diary style fic. Means I get to avoid all the awkward bits I don’t feel like writing. Pairs with: 78 Degrees Sunset Gin. DELICIOUS. Could drink it forever no effort.

Mirror Mirror - Extremely fucking horny fucking. Pairs with: Teddy & The Fox from Bellarine Gin. Its bitey.

Please break me gently - Oooh how badly do you want to hurt? A continuation is planned. About 4 chapters in total eventually. Pairs with: Brogan’s Way Everyday Salvation. White pepperberry and strawberry gum. Don’t talk to me while I’m drinking this. I need to be alone.

Wake Up Call - Short with a twist. Pairs with: Ginny Pig Spiced Fig Gin. Enjoy with ginger ale.

Bonus unwritten fic: Paperwork Polycule, specifically because there are bits of it floating around Tumblr. Pairs with: Threefold Distilling Aromatic Gin. Grapefruit, Rosemary and Lavender. Self explanatory really

(The most Australian gin is Lyrebird. It tastes like a hills hoist in a backyard with dry summer grass and birds calling on a hot evening.)

#Bug's fic and gin collection #Megamind #I collect gin like other people collect... stuff they collect #a gin for every occasion

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

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Home Front, Mission 17: Drone On

Take to the Skies

[mechanical work sounds in the background]

JANINE DE LUCA: Ah, is it that time already? No, Mr. Yao, I can do it. I have equipment here. No, you do not need to come down and help. Please continue calibrating the comms. Attention, listeners, Janine De Luca here. I've just been informed by Mr. Yao that it is time for today's workout session. Please take a moment to gather two or more tin cans, two bags, and if possible, a chair for exercises you'll be doing later on. Ensure the bags have strong handles. Once you're ready, commence warming up, perhaps by jogging on the spot.

Unfortunately, I'm rather busy attending to a task in Abel's workshop at present. Under the workshop, to be precise. I'm in a crawl space, stripping out old copper wiring for use elsewhere. Still, I have a portable mic, so we can conduct our workout as planned. In fact, being in a confined space has brought to mind exercises for those locked down with limited room, such as Runner Thirty-One, who is unfortunately trapped within a cottage pantry.

So on to today's first exercise: seated leg raises. For this, you'll need one sturdy chair and just enough space to stretch your legs. I believe Thirty-One has that much room in his pantry, along with several thousand legumes. If you don't have room, continue jogging. Otherwise, sit upright in your chair with your back straight and your hands on the chair on either side of you. Plant your left foot on the floor, then straighten your right leg so it extends in front of you with your hip flexed and your knee straight. Hold the leg there for a few seconds, then lower it.

We will raise and lower your right leg thusly for 30 seconds, then your left for 30 more. And start. That's it, keep going. 15 seconds down. You're doing well, everyone. Please ignore my working in the background. Very good. 30 seconds, listeners. Switch to your left leg. That's it, 15 seconds left, listeners. We are both nearly done. The wiring down here is from defunct pre-apocalypse electrics. There is little left to salvage. And exercise complete, as is my collection operation.

I shall trigger a music break while I emerge from the crawl space. You could continue exercising or relax, listeners. I admit I've let Mr. Yao pick out today's songs, so I imagine something cheerful should be about to play.

JANINE DE LUCA: Welcome back, everyone. I'm afraid I am far from done with the day's labors, so you will have to bear with me while I conduct essential work. Abel's machine shop has been rather cluttered for the last few months. Just before the superhorde, we recovered a crashed military drone from nearby countryside, an extremely advanced attack model. Mr. Yao claims it resembles a predatory bird, though I know few birds of car size. At first I was worried the drone was damaged beyond repair, but I have had ample incentive to work on it of late. Now while I rewire some circuits on the drone's underside, you've a round of torso twists to do.

Use the tin cans and bags you obtained earlier. Place one tin in each bag. Feel free to use more tins for a greater challenge. This ought to be a fine use for all those cans of condensed milk in your pantry, Runner Thirty-One. Of course, you wouldn't have been trapped by the horde if you hadn't disobeyed orders to go back for those cans. Now sit holding the weights very close to your chest. Twist from the waist to your left hand side, then twist back to the center, and then twist to the opposite side. Keep alternating twists like this for one minute. And begin.

Very good, 15 seconds complete. For camaraderie purposes, you may wish to know I am removing fused components from the drone. They are of a similar heft to your weights. That's it, 30 seconds elapsed. Patience is the key, listeners, in exercise and engineering. No matter how many panels need to be pried loose, one must persist. 15 seconds left, nearly done. And exercise complete.

It has been weeks of work, listeners, but I am close to restoring this drone, I know it. Air support in this day and age... it could bring us a major victory against the superhorde. Dr. Myers is concerned that I've been going without sleep for the project. For more than a few days, in honesty, but completion is so near. I need only... [components zap] Ah, damn! I need only bypass the power systems. The main battery still holds charge, but its connections are ruined. This wiring is delicate. I must concentrate. More music will follow. Rest or continue pushing yourselves and when I return, with any luck, some progress will have been made.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. You have just missed Mr. Yao, who has been down here on the pretext of delivering unsolicited cocoa. The truth is, weathering the superhorde, trying to plan a counterattack... the pressure has been intense. Bouts of flu and dysentery have other settlements low on medical supplies, beseeching us for aid. Tinkering in here is the closest thing to relaxation I've been able to manage. Hopefully you have found our exercises similarly restorative.

Today's next task: incline press-ups. If you're confined near stairs, find them. Adopt a press-up position with your hands shoulder-width apart on the second or third step of your stairs and your back straight. Bend your arms to lower your body until your chest is close to the floor, hold there for a count of two, then return to your starting position.

For those of you without stairs, like Thirty-One or Runners Nineteen and Twenty-Two who are trapped in the ale house toilet after a failed romantic escape, try wall press-ups. Stand before a wall with your legs together and your arms straight out with your palms on the wall at shoulder height, shoulder-width apart. Keep your back straight and bend your elbows to bring your nose close to the wall. Hold for two seconds, then return to your starting position.

There will be one minute of press-ups. Begin. 15 seconds down. I believe I am close to finishing the rewiring. 30 seconds down. The drone appears to be coming online. Excellent. 45 seconds down. I imagine wall press-ups are especially useful for Runner Thirteen, who is sheltering in an old police box, to Mr. Yao’s perplexing amusement.

And stop. The drone is ready for launch. With so little fuel, there is no opportunity to test it, but I have a plan in mind. The people need a victory against the horde. To be candid, I feel I need one, too. There will be a music break while I conduct the launch. Recoup or continue doing press-ups. When you hear from me again, we shall find out one way or another whether my efforts here have been in vain.

SAM YAO: Uh, hello? Hello, listeners, are you there? It's Sam in the comms shack. Janine told me to take over the broadcast while she launches her drone. Apparently, she's rigged up a remote to steer it, so she's got to focus on that. [paper rustles]Anyway, she's given me a list of exercises for you. Next one is... oh, planking. Janine says it's, uh, an excellent test of patience, inspired by Runner Twelve, who's stuck in the back of an overturned campervan. She's been planking to pass the time.

So lie down on your front, supporting your weight on your forearms and tiptoes. Keep your back straight and lock your core. You're going to hold that pose for 60 seconds. And go. Oh! Got an update from Janine. The drone just launched, and ah, I see it on the cams, rising from the workshop like a big scary robot eagle. 15 seconds down. That's it, plank like Runner Twelve. Halfway done. Huh, that's weird, the drone's just drifting over the horde. I mean, shouldn't it be, I don't know, shooting missiles or something? 45 seconds down. Keep your body locked. Imagine you're that drone soaring through the air like a plank. And done. Good job, everyone!

Yeah, there's still no bombs or missiles from our drone. It's uh, oh, it's losing altitude, drifting east toward Naxdale Settlement. Yeah, they've always been a bit twitchy over there. They keep claiming some mysterious beast is looting their stores. I mean, everyone knows it's just rats. Anyway, I'd better check in with Janine, make sure everything's okay. You guys know the drill, keep exercising or relax in the break and I'll be right back.

SAM YAO: Hey, folks! Me again. Couldn't get ahold of Janine. She must be busy steering the drone. Well, I guess we should just get on with our exercises. Uh, the next one is inch worming. According to Janine, it's Runner Thirty-One's favorite, even if he only has enough space to halfway do it in his pantry. Janine says it's the kind of bracing challenge that patience sometimes earns. Right.

So stand up straight, feet hip-width apart, then slowly bend forward, putting your hands on the floor in front of your feet as near as you can get them to your toes. Walk your hands forward, keeping your abs engaged, until your back is completely straight, then reverse it. Walk your arms back to your feet and stand up straight again. And well, just keep doing that over and over again for one minute. Ready? And go.

Hmm. Uh, you've done 15 seconds. Oh, that drone is getting really low. It's banking. Oh my God, it's going down!. Uh... uh, sorry, listeners. Um, yeah, you're halfway done. I'm just a bit distracted here. The drone’s careered right into the middle of Naxdale Settlement. Uh, I'm checking nearby cams. This can't be good. Uh, yeah, 15 seconds left, guys. Looks like the locals in Naxdale are surrounding our crashed drone. They look really agitated. Uh, good job, everyone. That's one minute.

Listen, I'm gonna raise Janine, find out what's happening. You just... hang in there. Janine's been slaving over that thing for weeks. If it's some kind of dud, she'll be devastated. Oh God, I hope Naxdale don't think we're attacking them. Okay, this could be bad, but don't panic. I'm just... just going to put on some relaxing music for you to cool down to while we get this straightened out. Oh boy.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. I apologize for alarming you and Mr. Yao. All is well, I simply chose to focus on implementing my plan before explaining it. Lost time is lost health in this case. The drone was never meant to fight the horde, you see. We lack the ammunition for that. No, the drone is packed with medical supplies. I gutted its weapons systems to make room. I have piloted the drone to our nearby neighbors.

And to those listening from Naxdale, you are entitled to 1/8th of its contents. The drone's landing gear is permanently jammed, hence today's crash. You will use spare parts aboard to repair any landing damage and I will pilot it to the next nearest settlement, where this process will repeat. The drone has enough fuel to deliver to every settlement for miles. You will all get the supplies you need. And if anyone tries to take more than their share, well, the drone has a self-destruct.

We could not beat the horde with one damaged drone, listeners, but sometimes the key to victory is redefining your success conditions. No settlement near Abel will run out of key supplies. That is worth a little lost sleep, I fancy. Alas, we are out of time for today's exercise session. Naxdale, I will be in touch to help prepare the drone.

And everyone else, please do watch the skies. I promise when you need Abel Township, we will be there. That goes doubly for Runner Thirty-One and all the other runners out there in tight spaces. One day soon, we will be coming to rescue you, no matter what it takes, I swear. This is Janine De Luca, signing off for now.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf 17 #drone on #zr transcript

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belettewrites · 3 years

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Some mountains and a dog part 4

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cw: animal death mentioned

It was just before midday; they had been on the road for three yours, Jaskier on Roach and Geralt leading him. He had started doing that more, after the mountain. To show Jaskier that he was cared for; that Geralt hadn’t meant it, but did mean what he had said about wanting to apologize. And it was nice to see Jaskier on Roach, next to his and Geralt’s bags, as if he belonged with him.

Geralt had no doubt about Jaskier belonging with anyone; the bard was a mage, after all, and his own person, and was as free as a bird. He felt blessed to have Jaskier by his side – that Jaskier had been by his side for twenty years, and had chosen to stay there even when things had become shitty. Well, shittier. He had stayed when Geralt ran to find Ciri, he had stayed when it turned out that Ciri had powers, he had stayed to wait for Yennefer when it became clear that he wouldn��t be able to help much.

He had stayed and was still there, by Geralt’s side, cheeks sun-kissed and hair ruffled by the wind, laughing a laugh that was only meant for Geralt.

“Geralt!,” Jaskier suddenly gasped, turning him away from his thoughts, “Look, a dog!”

He smiled. Jaskier did this every time they came across a dog. “Geralt! Look at its tiny paws!” he would say, and Geralt would hum; “Geralt! Look at how soft it looks!” he would cry out in delight, and Geralt would hum. “Jaskier, look over there, the dog,” Geralt had said once, and Jaskier had taken his hand and squeezed it briefly before letting it go, a smile brightening his face.

“Don't approach it,” Geralt warned, “it's a shepherd dog and its job is to protect the flock. Don't want it to think you're a threat.”

Though Jaskier, even smelling magic like he always had ever since he had revealed his true nature to Geralt, didn't seem like much of a threat. But Jaskier’s safety was not something Geralt wanted to play with, so he looked over at the dog to make sure he wasn’t being threatening.

The dog had seen them and was watching them distrustfully. Especially Geralt; he was used to it, cats always hissing at him, but dogs usually were nicer. Though this one had to protect something, and there was nothing more dangerous than a dog with instincts telling him to protect something.

Geralt had once seen a dog turning on his own owner because the man was yelling quite angrily at his child, who looked close to tears. The dog, a big dog with long black fur, had growled, stepping between them. The child, unaware of what was happening, had hugged it, but their father had turned pale and after glancing down, had gone away quickly. Seemingly satisfied, the dog had licked the child’s hands, and Geralt had turned away, not forgetting how far the dog was ready to go to protect what was under its care.

So he was more than relieved when a voice called out:

“Charcoal! What are you looking at, you doof- oh!”

Jaskier dismounted Roach and straightened up, ready to defend Geralt against any prejudices.

But there was no need; the woman, when she saw them, smiled and waved her hand to say hello, the dog staying close to her, almost making her trip over it. It was almost weird, seeing another person here, when it had only been him and Jaskier for the last few days; how easy it had been, to forget about the rest of the world.

Jaskier waved back, seemingly unbothered by the sight of another human here, and Geralt relaxed as the dog turned its attention away from them. It was a big dog. "Fluffy" Jaskier would say, fur white and gray and black, its head bigger than Geralt's hand. It looked young; still in training, then.

The woman walked closer to them. She wasn't tall, but wasn't small either; red hair falling on her shoulders, freckles on her cheeks and nose. She looked – pretty, the kind of person Jaskier would have spent the night with years ago. Though he had stopped doing that well before Ciri; after his performances he would always come back to Geralt, smiling softly at him and stealing his ale. It warmed Geralt more than he could say.

“Excuse him,” the woman said, still smiling, “he thinks anyone that isn't me or my wife is a threat, but he’s a sweetheart.”

“It's nothing,” Jaskier replied, “I had a dog a bit like him when I was younger. Great with children, though you should've seen how he reacted when someone that wasn't us walked by.”

The woman laughed.

“Well, let me say, it is nice to meet other souls up here. I'm Violet.” she added with a smile.

Then she hesitated, glancing at Jaskier then turning her attention back to Geralt, and to his swords.

“Say, I don't want to sound rude, but- what are you doing here? I mean, there's no one here but me and my wife, and the occasional traveler. We have a beast that steals the sheep, but apart from that, I don't think it's the kind of place you'd expect to find lots of contracts. Or a court to play in,” she added after glancing at Jaskier's lute case.

“Geralt needed some holidays,” Jaskier replied at the same time Geralt said “Jaskier wanted to see the mountains.”

“What?” Geralt blurted out, freezing.

Jaskier turned to him, a soft look in his eyes. Violet watched them without saying anything, an amused smile on her lips.

“Geralt, you spent the whole winter being a teacher to- Fiona, and before that you spent the whole year hunting monsters and saving humanity. You deserved a break. Though, frankly, I didn't expect you to agree so easily.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier didn’t know that he would agree to anything he would ask, though he was sure the other man was already aware of that, to some extent. Jaskier laughed, gently took his arm, and faced the woman again.

“See? The things I have to do?”

“My wife’s the same. I swear, she wouldn’t rest if I wasn’t there to remind her,” she smiled before adding, “Lila – my wife – and I are taking care of a sort of refuge for travelers, like you; eat lunch with us, and we'll see if we can ready a room for you, so you won't have to worry about sleeping in the woods tonight.”

“It's fine,” Jaskier started, “we-”

“You shouldn't,” the woman insisted, “there's something lurking around at night – it has killed two sheep already, and our old dog too, it- it wasn't pretty to see. My wife had to put an end to his misery, it was – rough.”

The pain was evident in her eyes, reflecting the loss of a life companion. Geralt saw Jaskier put his hand on Roach’s muzzle.

“So when you said there was no contract here-” Geralt tried to ask.

“Ah, well. It's just that, I'm afraid we don't have much coin to offer you, sir witcher. A beast, but no contracts,” she shrugged, though he could see she was tired.

Jaskier took his hand and squeezed it; Geralt tried very hard not to feel too warm at that, and hummed. His bard smiled knowingly.

“I'll take care of the beast,” Geralt said, “in exchange for lunch, and ale for my bard, if you have some.”

Violet smiled at them, a bit unsure but grateful nonetheless.

“Follow me, it’s not that far.”

She then started walking and they followed, still staying close to each other.

“I think we may have some goat cheese left,” Violet said, still in front of them, expertly avoiding stepping on unsteady rocks. “My wife makes them and they’re delicious – and I swear I’m not biased!”

Jaskier replied something; what, Geralt didn’t know. He let him carry the conversation like he always did, smiling and winking and actually caring about what was being said to him. Geralt was just happy to be there, Jaskier next to him. Happy to be known, too – he did need to take a break, after spending the whole winter teaching Ciri, and the beginning of spring fighting monsters. He would take care of Violet and her wife’s problem, they’d spend the night here, and they would go on the day after, pleased to be in each other's company. Maybe the life of a witcher could be sunny, too, sometimes.

***

“Honey? I found travelers that haven’t tasted your fine goat cheese yet!” Violet called out, a grin on her face as she opened the door of her house, the bells that were hung on it happily tinkling.

They had walked for ten minutes on a dusty road after finding Violet, the dog Charcoal running back and forth around them, always going back to her but lingering around Geralt in hope that he would pet him.

Jaskier knew that Geralt had a sweet spot for animals even if they didn’t always return it; he could think of at least three different occurrences where Geralt had looked absolutely dumbstruck when a dog had made its way to him before standing on his hind legs to beg for pets. On one occasion, a cat had made its way to their table when they were sitting in a tavern, and Jaskier would never forget how Geralt’s face had softened when the cat had allowed him to pet it.

Jaskier hid a smile when Geralt removed one of his gloves to pet the dog, who wagged his tail in obvious joy. Fuck, but bringing Geralt here had been a wonderful idea.

They were now waiting outside an admittedly pretty good-looking house, made out of dark stones that once must have been part of the volcanoes around them. The wood shutters looked old, but it seemed like someone had been carefully treating the wood with oil that would make it last longer, and it was overall obvious that the house was very well cared for – that it was not only a house, but also a home. Small, little violet flowers that Jaskier recognized as crocuses were growing under the windows, and it was absurd how much it made the place look welcoming and happy, as if an artist had put their brush here, adding a soft touch of color to an almost dark painting.

Jaskier was putting weight on his right leg since his left knee was still hurting him a bit – the bruise had gone from deep blue to pale yellow, but he avoided using that leg as much as he could, hoping that Geralt wouldn’t notice – though he had obviously failed at that, as Geralt had forced him to ride Roach earlier. It was something they did, now, Jaskier pretending that he didn’t want to ride and Geralt sighing fondly before helping him climb on the saddle.

“I’m surprised you even agreed to share it, honey,” a woman replied, short brown hair tied back by a black bandanna. She was almost tackled by Charcoal who in his joy to see her again had jumped on her. “Hold on, you doof, we’ve seen each other this morning.”

Violet was laughing again, and Jaskier smiled; it was good, to see people happy. It was good to see them with Geralt by his side, to let Geralt see that you could work but still let yourself be happy.

“Lila, this is Jaskier the bard,” Violet said, “and Sir Geralt. They’re quite famous, did you know? Sir Geralt said he’d take care of the thing that’s taking our sheep if we let him and his bard have lunch with us.”

Lila looked at them, squinting her eyes to see them better. Jaskier smiled at her, and Geralt – well, Geralt did his best, Jaskier assumed.

“Come on in, then,” she finally replied, “we wouldn’t want the stew to grow cold.”

***

The inside of the house was quite simple, but still showed that this place was a safe haven for both Violet and her wife and the travelers that apparently sometimes passed by.

“We’re not officially a refuge,” Lila explained as Jaskier helped her dress the table, “we just welcome people and offer them a room for the night – especially in winter, when it gets particularly cold outside.”

Jaskier nodded without replying anything. Lila seemed surlier than her wife but she still was a kind soul, ready to help. She reminded him of Geralt, in a way.

The room was nice; it was large, the windows letting the sun pour its light inside, brightening the place and making the floating dust look like sparks. There were plants hanging from the ceiling, and Jaskier saw that Geralt took a moment to admire them. It was strange, to see a house where a special thought had been put into the decoration – the places they were staying at usually didn’t care much for that kind of thing, and Kaer Morhen was more about practicality before beauty.

At the center of the room was a wooden table surrounded by two benches, one on which Geralt was sitting, listening to Violet who was animatedly talking, a dish towel in her hands, the dog sitting at her feet. Jaskier let his mind wander as he set down the pitcher full of wine but was brought back by the mention of his name in Violet and Geralt’s conversation.

“Jaskier and you, do I need to prepare two rooms? We have enough of them, it wouldn’t bother us.”

He tensed, but still pretended that he wasn’t listening. It would be weird, not sleeping next to Geralt after all these years – even at Kaer Morhen they had shared a room, Geralt not quite ready to let him go after barely escaping Nilfgaard and Jaskier needing the proximity of his witcher to be able to fall asleep. And they shared all the time on the path, to share warmth and to save coin.

But there were no threats here, no need to save their coin, and so Jaskier prepared himself for a sleepless night. It would be fine, not reading to Geralt, not braiding his hair before going to bed – it would be fine.

“Just one room will be enough,” Geralt replied, and Jaskier almost dropped the glasses he was about to put on the table. Well, that – that was nice. Maybe Geralt needed him close to be able to sleep, too.

Jaskier glanced up and met Lila’s eyes; she raised an eyebrow at him, clearly aware of his inner turmoil.

“Lunch is ready,” she announced instead of saying whatever it was that she had been thinking about Jaskier and his… feelings… for his traveling companion.

They took place on the benches, Jaskier and Geralt facing each other. Lila served the stew, and Geralt took Jaskier’s plate wordlessly, taking the carrots out of it and then giving it back to him. Jaskier smiled at his friend, and Geralt shrugged as if it were normal. Which it was, had been ever since Jaskier had said twenty years ago that he didn’t like carrots.

“So this beast,” Jaskier started, munching on his stew, “what does it do, exactly?”

Violet and Lila exchanged a glance, and Lila put her fork down, drinking a bit of wine before answering. Geralt had not stopped eating, though Jaskier had seen him discreetly hand Charcoal a piece of bread.

“It- takes the sheep,” Lila started, “and nothing else. Happens only at night, though, and Violet wanted to stay up but I told her that I’d rather not lose her to that thing. What are a few sheep next to my wife?”

Violet had blushed a little, but was fondly looking at her wife.

“There were footprints,” Lila went on, “but not ones that I could identify. Like, they look like ones of a wolf, but – they weren’t, not really.”

They all fell into a contemplative silence only broken by Charcoal’s loud breathing. Geralt slipped him another piece of bread, and Jaskier bit his cheek to prevent himself from telling him that he was teaching that dog terrible manners by rewarding him like that.

“How often does it happen?” Geralt asked, acting as if the big dog wasn’t lovingly staring up at him, hoping for more food.

“We don’t know,” Violet replied, her voice soft, “some weeks nothing happens, and then the next we lose two sheep and our dog.”

She looked up at Geralt, and Jaskier was stricken by the acceptance on her face.

“You said you would go and take a look, Sir Geralt, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll find it. But that would be okay – it hasn’t attacked us, and we know better than to go out during the night. And – you being willing to go already is – well, it’s-”

“What my wife is trying to say,” Lila cut in when it became obvious that Violet didn’t know how to end her sentence, “is that we’re already grateful that you would try to take care of it, and that even if you didn’t find anything, we would be okay. We’ve survived so far.”

Geralt nodded, and Jaskier found himself thinking about a song about two lovers, facing what Destiny was making them face, getting hurt and injured but always having each other and always going on –

Then he realized that it sounded a bit too much like him and Geralt, if him and Geralt had been lovers, and his ears grew hot.

“I’ll still go and see what I can do,” Geralt replied. “I’ll go tomorrow night.”

Lila nodded, and Violet smiled again.

“Now,” Violet started, “I was wondering, Jaskier, if you would be okay with playing something tonight?”

It had been a while since he had played for other people- well, okay, maybe not that long, but still. Playing for himself was okay, playing for Geralt was more than nice, but playing for other people? That was what had made Jaskier start to play, first for his sister who loved music but couldn’t sneak out to listen to music she actually liked like he could, then for bigger crowds. It wasn’t about being loved by his public, it was about people loving what they were hearing and forgetting about life for a while.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I’d be more than happy to.”

“He sings well,” Geralt said, and Jaskier blinked at him before feeling his face warming up.

“Why thank you, darling,” he managed to reply before turning to Lila. “Need help with something this afternoon?”

Lila looked at him with the same knowing look in her brown eyes that she had had earlier, and shrugged.

“Not particularly. Tomorrow, though?”

He grinned at her.

“I look forward to it. Now, tell me, I was promised a very fine cheese, made by the most talented cheese maker of the continent – her words,” he added while gesturing towards Violet, “not mine.”

Violet laughed and Lila stood up.

“I’ll go fetch it, it’s good with bread. If you haven’t fed it to the dog,” she added while glancing at Geralt, who froze on the bench. Jaskier burst out laughing, but still took his own piece of bread and broke it in half.

“Here, dear heart, take half of mine,” he managed to say, shoulders still shaken by his laughter.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, which only made Jaskier laugh harder, losing himself in the mirth of Geralt’s golden eyes.

#Geraskier #The Witcher #mine #geralt x jaskier #I love dogs #dogs are the best #cats too #but DOGS

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aros001 · 3 years

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First time read through light novel vol. 6. Random thoughts.

Hey, can you guess what my favorite episode of the anime is? Here's a hint: it's one apparently a lot of other Subarem shippers hate. I say f**k that! Episode 18 and this book made me love the idea of them as a couple even more! But we'll get to that in a minute.

“By conducting these negotiations, you bear Emilia’s fate on your shoulders. Naturally, everything you say affects her, and it carries the same weight as Emilia’s words. This is not a decision you should make lightly, nor are the words you say easily taken back.”

“...Ah, uh...”

“Moreover, I ask again—should you owe me in this matter, it will mean the defeat of the Emilia camp. Are you truly fine with this?”

It really brings into the focus the problem of Subaru calling himself Emilia's knight without thinking and why the actual knights took such offence to it. At best it was a gimmick with no actual meaning to him and at worst he wanted all the rewards that came with being a knight (or at least what he perceived as the rewards) and not any of the responsibility. That's basically the reality Crusch is making Subaru face; the true burden that is on the one who claims to be Emilia's representative. Being a knight isn't just a game or a fancy title. Whatever he does will heavily impact his lady's future and he never once considered that.

“You hate the Witch Cult. That’s the reason you approached Emilia, is it not?”

Damn.

“—You have not said, ‘I want to save Emilia,’ even once.”

Daaaamn. Obviously, we know the witch cult has nothing to do with why Subaru wanted to hang around Emilia, but it's really telling of his current state that that's what it looks like from the outside. His hatred for Petelgeuse is stronger than his love for Emilia.

The fact that Roswaal has twice now been absent during events that his presence could easily have prevented tragedy is incredibly suspicious. Especially during the mansion arc, where he only left the mansion during the loop Subaru had made a lot of progress in finding the shaman and thus, unlike the previous loops, could have warned him about what was about to happen. It feels like Roswaal is intentionally removing himself as to invite disaster upon his house and Emilia, likely to manipulate her and Subaru.

Priscilla is an oddity to me, because she really feels like someone I should dislike more than I do, as I tend to have an instant dislike for very bratty, entitled, and/or spoiled characters. I'm not sure what it is specifically that's lifting her up so much for me. It's not just the looks, because I've seen attractive female characters I've hated because of their brattiness (I think she and Bitch princess from Shield Hero share the same english voice actor, in fact). I think that, one, there is just this sense of fun and amusement when Priscilla's around, like I just want to see whatever she does next, and two, despite her attitude, I'm not really getting a feeling of shallowness from her. She doesn't feel like she's putting people down just to prop herself up. There is actual strength and depth to her.

Rem followed behind both of them, and he could hear noises coming from her nose every so often. Rem had a keen sense of smell, and she’d apparently picked up some kind of unsavory scent, staring at the back of the iron helm as they walked along.

Well, Al is from another world like Subaru, so it wouldn't be surprising if he also had the witch's scent attached to him, assuming his situation is anything like Subaru's.

“Don’t be silly. You’re Ram, right?”

“I am Rem... Forgive my rudeness, but where have you met Sister, Master Al?”

Rem explained how he’d mistaken her for her nearly identical older sister as she posed the question. However, Al made no reply. He raised up his one arm and touched his helm, busily poking the metal.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here...?”

Al sounded nervous, seemingly unable to process the information. The increasingly rapid tapping offered further proof.

“So you’re Rem...and your sister is Ram?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“This might be a weird thing to ask but...is your older sister alive?”

“...? I do not understand the meaning of your question. Sister is alive, as she should be.”

The instant Rem gave that answer, Subaru, who had been listening to the conversation in silence, felt goose bumps all over his flesh.

“—This ain’t funny.”

Well...that got a lot of theory wheels turning in my head. I was already wondering if Al had his own Return By Death ability, so it's certainly possible he'd met Ram before a restart, though why he'd mix up her and Rem, I'm not sure. Another possibility is that he's maybe experienced Subaru's own RBDs, so while he can't trigger the ability himself he retains his memories from the original timelines. We've seen timelines where Ram has died but also one back at the mansion where only Rem died. Of course, there's also the possibility this story is going to go full Futurama: Bender's Big Score and Al is going to turn out to be a future version of Subaru sent back to the past.

That damn whale is like something out of a horror movie. I don't tend to care for gory horror but I do like movies with unique monsters and killers, so I could easily see myself getting into a movie about a giant flying whale that appears in a dark fog and basically consumes the entire existence of whatever it eats, including its past presence in the world. It's not just memories being erased. The person themselves never was.

You can tell the story is doing a good job of connecting when I know full well that Subaru's going to have another RBD and that everything's going to be fine and I'm still tearing up over Rem basically sacrificing herself to hold off the whale and Subaru is realizing he's allowed her to die four times over.

Huge difference between the books and the anime, as I'm pretty sure in the anime Puck just killed Subaru in the room Emilia died in. There was no bringing her to the witch cult's hidden cave like there was here.

“Unable to even pass a single trial, not even facing a single Deadly Sin, bearing great expectations only to stumble over the first stone in her path...”

The madman looked down at the sleeping Emilia, sighing.

“—Ahh, you were lazy!”

Curious as to what he meant by all that. Now that I think about it, I don't think it's been revealed yet the specific reason the witch cult went after Emilia. Yes, she looks like the Witch of Envy but it that a bad thing or a good thing to the cult? Do these "trials" she was supposed to face have to do with the dragon and royal selection or the witch?

I don't think they said why Subaru can now see Petelgeuse's previously unseen hands. I think I saw a theory about how Subaru's connection with the witch grows stronger with each RBD, beyond just the scent, so he might simply has just accumulated enough EXP to finally level up into seeing them. Then again, I did love Subaru's mocking line to Petelgeuse that the witch has been "cheating" on him with Subaru, so it's certainly possible he just has more of Satella's affection than Petelgeuse and thus he gets more special perks from her.

And finally, we get to the talk between Subaru and Rem at the end. Funny thing, when I first started watching the anime, someone I knew who'd seen it before me told me that, one, it's very different from Isekai Quartet, which introduced me to the characters, so don't go in expecting a comedy, and two, that episode 18 has a Subaru moment that a lot of people hate. Given how the arc had been since before that episode and how Subaru kept falling further and further, I had no idea what was going to happen or what was worse than what he'd already done that'd get people to hate him so much.

And it turns out it's just because of a shipping war. I'm still not sure if I should feel relieved or annoyed. Yeah, I ship Subaru and Rem over Subaru and Emilia, but hating this part of the story just because he still loves Emilia? I feel like everything else except for that one line gets ignored (the line I'm avoiding saying because I don't want a bot to flag this post) and that the lack of all context except Subaru loving Emilia while Rem loves him destroys a lot of why the scene works.

There's just so much to talk about with why I love this part between Subaru and Rem. I'm a big fan of superhero stories and a classic trope I love is when things get dark and everything is brought to its lowest point...only for the hero to make a comeback. And Subaru... The man is broken. He's given up. Not only has he experienced death, failure, and futility multiple times, he's seen the people he cares about be completely slaughtered, with Rem dying, being mutilated, and even erased to protect him and Emilia, the woman he loves, dying directly because of him. He's powerless to change anything, or at least everything he does change seems to just make things worse. He sees himself as selfish, greedy, and arrogant; that he never actually cared about anyone other than himself. He's just spewing all this very justified self-hatred...and Rem counters it perfectly, not saying a single thing that isn't true about what she loves about him. Last volume had her imagining running away with Subaru, so the possible life with him she talks about isn't just something she's pulled out of the air. It's something she's considered and wants, which means it has actual weight when she turns him down.

I think another reason Rem connects to Subaru so much is because she's no stranger to self-hatred. She's also seen her own existence as a blight on everyone and everything around her. That she's selfish and terrible. And the person who helped pull her out of that state, at least somewhat, and get her to start liking herself was Subaru, which is what she's doing for him now. It's what I love so much about the relationship between these two. It's not just that they've saved each others' lives. They've helped each other in incredibly personal ways, despite the fact that neither fully knows what the source of the other's pain is. Subaru doesn't know what Rem felt as she watched Ram's horn get cut off. Rem doesn't know about Subaru's RBD and constant failures. They didn't need to. They simply knew the other needed help and they gave it, with no strings attached. It's why, despite me shipping them together, I'm not upset that Subaru doesn't return Rem's love (yet?) in the same way. There was a great bit of art I saw of the moment, and the words alongside it were "I didn't say I love you to hear it back. I said it so that you would know." Despite her still having some issues, being a little too subservient and obsessed with Subaru, I can believe Rem's love for him is real. When Subaru hated himself and believed everyone else did too, Rem told him that she loved him, not to get anything back out of it, but simply because she wanted him to at least have that to hold onto.

Rem was clearly at least a little upset at the end of their talk, and I can see it being some regret that she turned him down or that he does still love Emilia more, and I'm fine with that. She did the right thing and she is happy the real Subaru is back, but her being a little sad afterwards keeps her human (even if she's a demon).

Honestly, while I do ship them, I think both did make the right call. If or when they hook up, it should be when there's no lingering doubts or regrets they're carrying with them. Where they can have a future where they can smile together and with everyone in their lives they love and can't just abandon. Plus, I want to see Ram as an aunt to Subaru and Rem's kid! That sounds amazing!

And Subaru saying he loves Emilia, even after Rem poured her heart out to him...well, yeah, of course he does. He just found out Rem loves him and has had no time to process it (he was trying to run away with her out of fear and guilt, thus why she turned him down). If his feelings for Emilia were that easily swayed then it'd be hard to say that they were ever that strong or real to begin with, and thus what would have been the point of everything he's been through? It's not like he said it to hurt Rem. Hell, here and in the anime he sounds pretty apologetic as he says it, because he knows it'll hurt her to hear it and he doesn't want that. But it is the truth. So I'm not going to get mad at him for it. It's consistent with his character and everything he's been through and lead to great character moments for both him and Rem. What's there to be angry about?

But yeah, there was a little bit of it in the last chapter but I'm soooooooo looking forward to next volume. I remember just the feeling of hype and "F**k yeah!" going through my chest on my first watch of the anime. Subaru, after hitting his absolute lowest point, pulling himself together with Rem's help and gathering up everything he's got to fight back against the previously hopeless situation and save the day. It made all that heartache and misery so worth the wait.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gr9y77/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_6/

#re:zero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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wildlydeliciouspainter · 4 years

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- III - The tower

*Hi! I hope you guys like the story so far. I’m thinking up each chapter as I go, and mainly use this as a way to improve my writing skills while typing about the things I could see happening in Stardew. If you have any feedback or suggestions for the storyline feel free to message me. Enjoy!*

“Here, this is for the journey.” Daya puts a small package into Elliotts hands. “Its your lunch, and a book for the road.” The brown wrapping is held together with a string which has a duck feather attached to it. Elliotts face lights up instantly when he notices it. “My favorite.” He wispers. “Thank you dear.” He softly plants a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll let you know when I get to Zuzu city, okay?” She nodds and smiles. Her eyes wander off to the tunnel leading the tracks farther into the mountains. Way down in the south, lies the big city where Elliotts booktour will take place. Zuzu city, a modern place with skyscrapers and highways. Daya saw its skyline once before when she went on a roadtrip with Robins son Sebastian. Thinking back on that memory is filling Daya with unease.

Sebastian, her relationship with him could be called complicated. After they broke up he moved to the city taking with him one bag of clothes, his laptop and his motor cycle. She still though of him now and then and wondered how he was doing, but never felt comfortable enough to reach out. With the way things ended that was probably for the best, she though. The sound of the approaching train suddenly echoes through the tunnel and brings Daya back to the present. “I love you, stay safe.” Elliott says and cuddles her. His long red hair tickles her face. “Love you too, return to me in winter.” She wispers into his hair. “I will.”

Daya waits till the train leaves to continues its journey through the mountain pass. When the last wagon has disappeared into the tunnel she turns around and starts walking back. Something moves her to take a different road than usual. Instead of walking home via the mountain road she takes the detour trough Cindersap forest.

The air in the woods is crisp, and dead leaves roll over the forest floor around her. A vague sound in the distance catches her attention. Mysterious music that can only come from one place. The wizards tower. There was a time when she ran a lot of errands for the wizard and his practices in the dark art, but ever since she moved in with Elliott her life shifted from the forest to the shore. Paying her old friend a visit couldn’t hurt though. She follows the sound, and suddenly sees the blue roof of Rasmodius home towering over the trees in front of her.

The door to the building is closed, so she knocks. “Hello?” The wizard is always close to the tower and as expected the door slowly opens, creaking in its hinges. A sweet smell of herbs and incense wafts out of the hallway to greet Daya and the old door mysteriously closes behind her, though no one is standing near it. “Welcome.” Says the wizard, in his deep, calm voice. He is sitting in a purple chair next to the cauldron. From the big black kettle green fumes circle towards the ceiling. “Hi Rasmodius. I went for a walk in the forest and thought I’d stop by.” “Ah, is that so?” He says, his voice seemingly insinuating something different to be the case. “Yes.” Daya replied. “Tea?” “Yes please.” On the coffee table stands a bronze teapot filled with fragrant leaves. Its fresh, as if company was expected. Rasmodius pours two cups and hands one to his guest. The second cup stays on the table untouched. Daya’s eyes follow the intricate carvings on the table that show the cycle of the moon and its many forms. She sips from her tea as Rasmodius talks to her. “I was hoping you would stop by today.” He says, his eyes fixated on the cup in front of him. “I have a guest that was hoping to see you, so I might have used a bit of magic to lure you here.” He presses his fingers together and stands up. At the same moment there is a sudden movement at the fireplace, as a dark figure steps out of its shadow. Daya almost drops the tea cup in her lap. But manages to catch it on time so only a small amount of its content spills over her finger. “Damn it!” She growls, and puts her burned fingers into her mouth. Dark sweater and hair he disappeared into the wizards gloomy interior but when he turns towards her its unmistakable “Seb?”Daya’s cheeks immediately turn red as she realizes she is still using his petname. In an attempt to rectify her mistake she coughs and adds an unsure “astian.. sebastian, hi.” Rasmodius stands up awkwardly and points Sebastian to the chair he first sat in. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” He mutters and pats Sebastian on his back. Then flicks his fingers and disappears into thin air. “Oh!” Daya’s eyes widen but this time she holds her teacup in a firm grip as not to spill more tea in surprise. “I hate it when he does that, it catches me off guard every time.” Sebastian smiles slowly. His eyes are fixed on the teacup the wizard left for him, an impenetrable expression in his eyes.

She didnt miss this part of him, the silent stares and her guessing whats going on inside. “How, eh.. how are you Sebastian?” “Could be better.” He smiles wryly and picks up the cup in front of him. “You?” “I am very happy.” She thinks of her life with Elliott and instantly a smile appears. “Happy to hear that. Say Daya, I’m sorry to barge back into your life like this, but do you still have your sword?” At the word sword she has to put down her cup because her fingers start to tingle. She can feel the heft of the purple blade in her hands even though its not there. Sebastian looks at her moving fingers and frowns barely noticeable. “Yes, I still have it.” She wispers, her thoughts miles away from the tower. “Could I borrow it?” “Why?” For the first time in the conversation he looks straight at her. His light brown eyes catch her off guard and she repressed the impuls to tell him he can take the weapon as long as he leaves now. His eyes leave her face to search the room. When he is sure no one is lurking in the shadows of the furniture around them he leans towards her to plead his case. “Its for Abigail. She got abducted from the mines on one of her adventures. I didn’t know untill I got a weird email that seemed to be encrypted. After I send it to Rasmodius he figured out it was send by the dwarf in the mines, warning me she was taken. This was only this morning. I came back from Zuzu as fast as I could.” “Are the two of you..” Sebastians eyebrows raise. “Friends, good friends.” Daya nodds. “Just so I know how delicate the situation is.” “Okay, will you help?” “Eh I want to but I’m not sure I can.” She can see his eyes darken while she struggles to find the right words.

“You see, the prismatic shard I used to forge the sword in Calico, its infused with my energy. Even linked to my energy I had to find a way to learn how to handle it. Its almost like handling an animal, learning its body language and finding a way to work together. Its a bond that I’m not sure will be translated well to another.” She though back of an instant where Elliot picked up the sword. Holding it alone almost made him sprain his own wrists. The disbalance between him and the iridium made it uncontrollable. As soon as she took it in her own hands the purple metal calmed. Sebastian wouldn’t be able to handle the sword and without Daya’s link to it the weapon would turn into a crude waraxe with no regard for the person who yielded it. “Have you considered the adventurers guild? For their members they have some fine weapons, I’m sure a lava katana would do the job just fine.” Sebastian stands up, looking down on her with irritation written al over his face. “You know the galaxy sword is way more powerful than that. I expected a bit more from the women who fought serpents and shadow brutes alike. But I should have know, your feathers and fruit loving poet has made you soft.” Daya shoots up, almost matching Sebastian in height. “Listen to me very carefully.” She hisses. “No one took my bravery away. I chose love over a life of danger, but I can still fight. And if you want us to find Abigail you should try to work with me instead of pissing me off.” “Us?” “Yes us, we’ll get you a weapon and I”ll have your back for Abigails sake. But keep the attitude to yourself please.” His eyes darken but at the same time there is that slow smile again. “I’m sorry, your help is more than welcome.” “Thank you.”

They set up a practice for the next morning, and as they both leave the wizard tower and walk into a different direction they are both wondering about the adventure thats ahead of them.

#stardew valley #fanfic #stardew elliott #stardew sebastian #fantasy

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

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Horror Villains Drabble #1

Plot: The Horror Villain in your lives S/O(Who you were also very close to) has just died, and you’re there to watch them crumple.

Includes: Jason Voorhees, Mayor Buckman and Sheriff Hoyt

Warnings: Angst

Hah, I think these just get shorter and shorter, which is funny because this is not the order I wrote them in.

~~~

Jason Voorhees:

Today, I’m going to visit Jason. Who I guess a normal person would my… brother-in-law? Stepbrother-in-law, because his girl was my stepsister. Not that that matters now, she died in a car crash 3 weeks ago. Which is why I’m checking on him, bearing a new tablecloth to lighten up his creepy little cabin and ginger ale. She said once that he liked that stuff, and the tablecloth was my idea. I didn’t know what else to bring him in this situation, since I only met him once! But I thought I should, bring something.

The time I met him was because she wanted someone to know about him, that she trusts. In case something bad happened. Which, evidently, it did. How she knew it would happen? Well, there’s an ongoing news segment dedicated to the investigation they distastefully opened the day of her funeral, when the coroner that checked her out mentioned a gang tattoo hidden on the top of her thigh. Jason doesn’t need to know that part though.

From what I gathered about him when she introduced us and I stuck around with them the day we met and what I remind myself of quickly in my head as I leave the Ford Fiesta I got for my 18th birthday 3 years ago, is that mostly he’s a delicate soul. At least, when it has to do with her, or his mother. Her name’s Pamela, but I hope that doesn’t come up because their relationship scares me and I don’t want much to do with it. I especially don’t want to bring her up to him.

I start walking towards his cabin, recalling other things about him I could mention or just that I should remember. His favourite colour’s green, like oak leaves and definitely not moss. He drowned because some councillors who were supposed to be watching him were getting jiggy with it in the forest, and because of that he has an ingrained hatred and need to eradicate all premarital sex havers.

Pft, that’ll be fine then. My lame ass is still a virgin. Not that I’m bitter about it or that I’m going to mention that, at all.

Finally, I reach the Voorhees’ cabin, which is clearly what is seeing as I can smell the stench of Mum’s rotted head wafting from inside that still haunts my dreams from last time. I put down the bag with his new, green tablecloth, ginger ale and my Christmas cookies -because I need them to get eaten and its been a month and they’re still sitting in my cupboard, and this seemed like a good a time as any. Maybe Jason’ll appreciate the patters I painstakingly iced on them. He supposedly has the brain of a child,- on the ground and stan dup straighter, biting the inside of my lips.

Taking a cautious step forward, wondering whether I should knock even though the door’s open, I call carefully. “Jason? Hey, it’s Y/N. (Your Stepsisters Name)’s, sister? We met, and I just wanted to check on you. She asked me to.”

When in doubt, make sure he knows who I am and my connection to her. She’s his soft spot.

No answer.

I shuffle to the side, seeing if I can get a glimpse inside the house and see if he’s actually in there, without overstepping and walking on in. “I brought ginger ale- “

Suddenly heavy footsteps come up behind me and stop close by. I whip around, and suddenly I feel like a fly in comparison to the giant that is Jason Voorhees. I soften my expression and pick up the bag, offering it to him. “Did you hear all that?”

He nods.

“Is it okay that I��m here?”

Again, he nods. I let my muscles relax, and go to sit down on the moulding, termite ravished porch. Before I start taking things out of the bag, I peer up at him, and make sure this is okay. “Is it okay that I sit here? I’ll get up if its not, its okay.”

No nod this time, I guess he got tired of it which is understandable- I would too if that was my only mode of communication. Instead, he walks over, movement weirdly purposeful, and sits down beside me. The wood moves worryingly under his weight, but stays sturdy thank god.

I flash him a kind smile, and start showing him what’s in the bag. Once I’m finished, I decide to cut straight to the chase, because he is not responding to any of this. Not even the snowman cookie awakened a reaction, and that one is freaken masterful. I turn to him, as he holds gently onto the ginger ale between his knees but doesn’t open it, and drop my forearms onto my knees. “So, Jason. Sweetheart, you gotta tell me o-or… Morse code to me, or whatever if you’re okay or not. Because that’s what I’m here for. For her, and therefore you are too. You get me?” I peer up at him, hoping he understands. Because I’m already getting emotional, and I don’t want to start crying again. I will, if we have to go through this painstakingly slowly.

Again, he doesn’t nod. But he does turn his head to look ahead of him and away from me, which I take as him understanding, but avoiding the conversation.

But hey! At least he isn’t walking off or stabbing me. Swallowing, and taking a deep breath, because we have to do this and theirs a tiny part of me that wants to for him and not for her, although the brunt of it is for her, I carry my pointer finger up and ever so gently pat the bottom of his mask. He turns slightly to look at me, and I look softly, empathetically at him. “I, for one, feel terrible.”

His shoulders relax the tiniest bit, so I go on. “I-I mean… I didn’t know her my whole life. Our parents got married when she was already 12. But I was 8, and she was my big sister after that. And, she was… the better one of us! Its true! I mean, you fell for her! And, from what I can tell you have trust issues. Rightly so, but still. She broke through that because she was so good. I can’t… “I let out a heavy breath, but not looking away because I’m brave. “Help, but think that… it should’ve been me, and not her. Okay?” Ohhh god. That sure doesn’t become easier the more times you say it… More a moment, I allow myself to pause. Worry my lip, look away. Then I push back my hair behind my ears and look back at hum, refreshed. Surprising me, when I look back, he’s looking at me. I whisper. “Is that how you feel?”

A moment of meaning passes, before slowly he nods. A more meaningful significant, and consequential then the other nods -other movements, -, simply because its slower. It feels like he’s seriously agreeing with me, like he’s saying ‘Yes, yes. That’s how I feel, I agree. You aren’t alone’.

Its honestly the most understood that I’ve felt since she died. Even her mother wouldn’t look up from the funeral pamphlet and I haven’t seen her since. But Jason, feels like me. Just another flavour, and another face.

Taking a deep breath, with tears filling my eyes now, I nod and take his hand. “Yeah… yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“One day it’ll get better.”

Mayor Buckman:

I cross my arms and lean back on the house, watching the townspeople as the go about their day. One in particular, troubles me who I don’t let up my disappointed gaze on for minutes, as he bobs through town with an obnoxious smile on his face. All week, I’ve watched Buckman to make sure he’s okay after the funeral, and he’s failed every single test.

She entrusted me with his wellbeing and health, and I’m going to take it seriously. Because, although I don’t have as high a appreciation for his existence as she did due to him… well, trying to kill me and feed me to his crazy people, I acknowledge how he changed, for her. While she was here, the death toll in Pleasant Valley went down to all time low from the last century. Because, he had something to continue for, I guess.

But now he’s desperate to go, and although that makes sense, and I can accept it, even if it meant my last connection to her would be lost, he’s going too fast. He hasn’t even given himself time to mourn. She died, and he’s acting like she just left and he’s going to be seeing her real soon. Which, of course, may be true… But she died. Its going to tear him apart if he doesn’t sit down a second and stop grinning so crazy wide.

It’s a bit scary, actually. How full on he is right now.

As a couple new victims -teenagers, on spring break. Nothing new, - who’ve agreed to stay the night go to the room’s they’ll be staying in, our revered Mayor disappears into his home, uncharacteristically. Curious, I push off the wall and follow. “Buckman?”

“Oh,” Is the only response at first, which I take as ‘Please, come in!’, and do. It’s a very wonky ‘Oh’, coming out twisted around every which way, like you were feeling one way and tried to sound a different way. Chewing the inside my cheek, I creep across loud ass floorboards to the livingroom. There, he’s standing by the window with the blinds closed. He looks tired as hell, somehow. I don’t know how a ghost can look so exhausted, but he does. And it’s a weird thing to see on the usually vibrant southerner. “I was just looking for my good handkerchief, this one’s got the wrong pattern- doesn’t match.”

“Oh, stop it.” I walk on in and sit myself down on the couch, patting the spot beside me for him, bossily. “Why don’t you just mourn?”

He gives me a forced smile, not at all in it, and pointedly refuses to sit with me. Oh, boy. “One doesn’t mourn, when you know you’ll see them again soon.”

Okay, ignoring the fact that neither of us know exactly what happens after you really die and he could just disappear into nothingness rather then see her again because we don’t want to make him mad… Changing tact, I turn to him inquisitively. “Buckman, what are you gonna do when you see her again? What do you wanna do?”

“Ah, well, first I’ll intend to hug the stuffing out a’ her, but after that I believe it’s become a bit personal, and we don’t have that relationship my dear.”

“Okay.” Let’s move past that, because the last thing I want in my head is this man and my sisters bedroom activities. My face darkens determinedly, causing Buckman to squint suspiciously at what I’m about to throw at him. “Well, if you don’t sit down and be sad for more then the 2 seconds it takes for you to meaninglessly switch handkerchiefs, you won’t have the energy to do that. You’ll probably faint, if you can even do that in heaven or… wherever you’re going, and then there will be no hugging.” His face darkens, because he knows I’m right. I lean forward towards him, and reiterate. “No hugging. Zip!”

“Okay!” He raises his hands, begging me to stop causing a self-satisfied smile to come to my face. For a moment more, he thinks -I’m sure, - about leaving and avoiding this again like he has bene since she died, but catches my eye and that does it. He gives a defeated sigh, and sits down beside me. I change my expression to sympathetic, because I know how he feels. She was my sister. I loved her, too.

Awkwardly, I drop a couple pats on his back, as he sits doubled over with his face in his hands. Then even ore awkwardly, I cough into my shoulder. “Tea?”

“Ahhh, yes please.”

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt:

I grip my spoon so tightly that my knuckles go completely white, but I let him go. Hoyt leaves the room, and the house, and I manage not to scream at him to come back and face me, because Luda Mae asked me to. That’s the only reason I didn’t throw the spoon at him.

… But, he’s crossed a line.

So, I push out of the seat and stomp past Thomas in his breakfast seat and Luda Mae pouring him water and out the door after him. “Oh, Charlie!!”

“Who the fuck- “He turns around, as he was heading for his car and his eyes land on me. Immediately they darken from being irritated, to mad and promptly, sticks up his middle finger at me. I grit my teeth, reach him and snatch it out of the air, throwing his hand back to his side. “What do you want, I’m a busy man.”

“You’re fucking unemployed, shut your trap.” I point with my thumb back into the house, and incredulously at him. “What the hell was that?? I haven’t seen a face like that on Luda Mae… e-ever. Ever. I have never seen her that hurt. What the fuck??”

The look Luda’s face appears in the forefront of my mind again, that appeared on her delicate features right after Hoyt told her to ‘shut the fuck up’. He has never used language like that at her before. God, her face. It was a horrible mix of shocked, and destroyed. She thought, we all thought, that if Hoyt still cared and respected anyone in this family then it was her. Evidently, we were wrong. The fire in my eyes intensify, thinking about the flagrant disrespect. To her! Of all people! That sweet woman! Since I came here, with (Your Friend Who Was With Hoyt’s Name), she has been the kindest.

Hoyt, the least kind. So, I feel zero guilt in tearing him a new one out here.

Oh, you go ahead and flare those nostrils at me Hoyt, I’m not moving. “It’s a family matter, you can stick your nose out of it.”

“Oh,” I say, clutching my heart. “I’m wounded!” He doesn’t think I’ve heard that one before? Well, he’s more of a moron then I thought. “Bottom line, Hoyt, I haven’t seen you be that awful, since you fell in love with- “

“Don’t you dare say her name.” He warns, opening the car door and plopping himself in the front seat. He tries to slam the door shut, but I plant myself between him the door, and hold it open making him deeply sigh. Seeing I wasn’t about to leave, he promptly picks up his gun and a rag and starts cleaning it.

“The person you became with her is worth being. She would never forgive you if you crumpled now. I, would never forgive you.” I point to the house again. “She’s turning in her grave!!”

Hoyt scoffs, a cough of a laugh nearly, and continues to wipe his gun off- of what? I have no idea. He’s just cleaning his gun. Which looks perfectly clean to me. “Well she ain’t here, is she?” He looks up at me next, and the look in his eyes is cold, but not cold enough to force me to back down. “And I don’t remember us ever being friends.”

“Hah, we weren’t.” We will never be. “But guess what? I’m here and I’m here to stay. I won’t let you spiral into a crotchety mess, or even more of a disgusting mess then you’ve always been even with her. And I won’t exactly like it, but I’ll live with it. Because- “

“I don’t need any of your help, honey- “

“Because,” I continue, through grit teeth. His eyes flash at getting cut off, and of course, I revel in it. “I loved her too. I won’t let you become something she would hate. She loved you. Far be it me to understand why, but she did. You could see it in her face, and the way she talked to you. And it hurts so bad, imagining what she might be thinking, watching you now. If she could see you, if she’s seeing you, whatever your stance on religion, she would be heartbroken.”

He looks up, and this time squints at me. “You think I care what she would feel?”

At that little remark, I slam the door in his face, and lean close to the window. “Yes.”

#Horror Villains Drabble #Horror Villains #Horror Villains x Reader #Sheriff Hoyt #Sheriff Hoyt x Reader #Charlie Hewitt #Charlie Hewitt x Reader #Mayor Buckman #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Jason Voorhees x Reader #Jason Voorhees

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whumphoarder · 5 years

Text

Dad Level: 3000

Summary: Peter comes down with the flu while visiting the Stark family (and Happy) at the lake house during his spring break from MIT. Thankfully, Tony has been spending the last five years honing his Dad Skills™. He's got this.

Word count: 5,227

Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, fluff, whump

A/N: This story is set in March 2025. Morgan is five and Peter is 18 (but also 23 on paper, which totally isn’t confusing at all).

Most of the events of Infinity War/Endgame happened, except Captain Marvel did the snap with her mighty-glowing-lady-warrior-powers and so no one freaking died.

Thanks to @sallyidss and @xxx-cat-xxx for beta reading <3

Link to read on AO3

Tony walks into the kitchen Monday morning to see his five-year-old daughter standing on her tiptoes on a chair, attempting to reach a small cardboard box inside the open freezer.

“What is this, a heist?” he asks, moving towards Morgan. He loops an arm around her middle and lifts her into his arms, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head and causing the little girl to giggle. “I thought Mommy said no juice pops before noon.”

“It’s for Peter,” she says simply.

“Oh it’s for Peter, is it?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “And why does Peter need a juice pop at ten in the morning?”

“Because he doesn’t feel good and juice pops always make me feel better,” Morgan concludes.

Tony’s brow furrows, but he just steps closer to the freezer to allow her to reach into the box properly. Now that he thinks about it, Peter had seemed pretty wiped last night, but he’d brushed it off as midterm exam stress. “I think he likes the orange ones best,” he advises.

Morgan fishes out an orange popsicle and Tony lowers her back down to the floor. She skips off down the hall, around the corner, and all the way to the cabin’s guest bedroom where the kid has been staying for the past two days since MIT spring break had officially begun. Tony follows along, his frown deepening when she continues straight through the room and pushes open the slightly ajar door to the ensuite bathroom.

It’s a sorry sight indeed. Peter is slumped on the floor, propped up between the bathtub and toilet, eyes half-closed and his cheek resting on the edge of the bowl. One arm is wrapped around his stomach and he’s pale and sweaty.

Morgan, bless her heart, runs right over to him. “I got you a juice pop!” she says brightly.

Peter blinks up at her and then swallows thickly before offering her the weakest of smiles. “Oh. Thanks,” he croaks. “Uh, do you think you can do me a big favor and eat it for me?”

Spinning around, Morgan gazes up at Tony, her eyes big. “Can I?”

Despite his growing concern, Tony huffs out a quick laugh. “Sure, why not,” he agrees. Pepper is the one always reminding him to choose his battles after all. “We’ll just keep this one to ourselves.”

As Morgan unwraps the plastic from her popsicle, Peter closes his eyes tightly and swallows again, face draining even further of color.

Tony pats Morgan on the shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you go eat that with Uncle Happy? I’m gonna sit here with Peter for a little while.”

“Okay,” she agrees, spinning around on her heel.

The moment she’s gone, Tony’s attention turns back to his other kid, who is looking even more miserable now. “Not feeling so hot, huh?”

Peter shakes his head slightly, letting his eyelids squeeze shut again. “‘M’sorry,” he murmurs.

If Peter didn’t look so pathetic right now, Tony would have rolled his eyes. Instead, he just lets out a small sigh. “Not your fault, kiddo,” he assures. “You throw up?”

“Not yet,” Peter mumbles, then swallows again. “Just... feel really sick.”

“C’mon, Happy’s tuna casserole wasn’t that bad…” he tries to joke, but it falls flat when Peter doesn’t so much as smirk.

Tony steps further into the bathroom and crouches down beside the kid, wincing as his knees click in protest. “Is it just your stomach?”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugs tiredly. “Kinda ache all over...”

Tony places his hand on the back of Peter’s neck and instantly can feel the heat radiating off the kid’s sweaty skin. Peter shivers at the touch. “Your hand is really cold,” he complains.

“Nah, you’re just warm,” Tony disagrees, moving his hand to press to Peter’s forehead instead. He sighs and pushes himself back up to standing. “Think you’ll be okay here for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Peter croaks, looking a little guilty. “You really don’t have to stay. I know you’re busy…”

“Ah, see that’s the beauty of the retired stay-at-home-dad life,” Tony retorts, straightening back up to standing. “This is literally my job now.”

Before Peter has a chance to dwell too much on that response, Tony exits the room and heads to the master bathroom to locate the thermometer, and then to his lab to grab the bottle of spidey-kid-strength painkiller and fever reducer pills he and Bruce had concocted. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to use them—he knows Peter hates the way the meds knock him on his ass and make his thoughts fuzzy and disconnected—but he figures it would be good to have them on hand just in case.

After making a quick detour through the kitchen for a can of ginger ale and some crackers, he heads back to the guest room, quickening his pace when he hears the telltale sound of retching and splashing issuing from the bathroom.

“Aw, Pete…” He winces in sympathy at the gagging boy. Peter’s nose is running and his eyes are red and wet with tears.

“Flu was going ‘round the dorm last week…” Peter moans as Tony sets the items down on the counter and wets a washcloth at the sink. “Thought I lucked out. Guess not.”

Tony places a hand on the kid’s sweaty t-shirt to start rubbing circles on his back. But he freezes instantly when he feels Peter tense up at the touch.

“You alright?” he checks, hand hovering just over the kid’s shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” Peter rasps. “Jus’... you never did that before.”

Tony recalls the handful of times he’d seen Peter sick during their time together before. Vomit has never fazed him—he’s had much too colorful of a past for that—but before he was definitely more inclined to offer a joke or a sarcastic remark than to settle for being a comforting presence. Funny what five years with a child who turns into a clingy octopus whenever she’s ill have done to him.

Then again, Morgan is in kindergarten while Peter is eighteen (or twenty-three, according to his birth certificate—it’s been over a year since Thanos and still no one seems entirely sure how to refer to the un-vanished). Maybe the Comforting Presence™ protocol is different for teenagers.

He is just about to offer to step out in order to give the kid some privacy when Peter interrupts his thoughts. “’S’nice,” he murmurs. “May does it too.”

Tony’s heart swells a bit. Then the moment is shattered when Peter suddenly sticks his head back over the toilet and starts gagging again.

“Alright, alright, get it all out…” With a small sigh, Tony lowers himself down to sit on the floor beside Peter and resumes rubbing his back.

When he’s finally finished, Tony flushes the toilet and Peter slumps back against the tub, his eyes closed. Instinctively, Tony lifts the washcloth up to wipe his messy face. Peter flinches at the contact and weakly reaches a hand up to take the cloth.

“Sorry, can do it myself,” he mumbles. “‘S’gross…”

Tony gives a quick snort. “Nah, you know what’s really gross? When I found Morgan’s secret booger stash on the side of her bedroom dresser.” He shudders dramatically.

Almost instantly, Tony regrets his comment when it triggers another round of heaving from Peter. “Sorry, kiddo,” he says as he rubs Peter’s back. “That was on me.”

This time when the spasms cease and Peter slumps back against the tub, he doesn’t bother protesting when Tony cleans his face and flushes the evidence away for him. Tony cracks open the can of ginger ale and passes it to the kid.

“Small sips, okay?” he instructs, reaching up to the counter for the thermometer.

“Can’t FRIDAY just tell you that?” Peter asks as Tony flips on the device.

“Morgan’s pediatrician convinced me this is more accurate,” Tony replies, inserting it in Peter’s ear. “Just be glad she’s graduated to the aural one now. You would not be happy about where this guy had me sticking it for the first year or so.”

“Huh?” Peter blinks at him. Then all of a sudden it seems to click and he groans, “Mr. Starrrk.”

The thermometer beeps. Still smirking, Tony lowers the device down to read the display. His grin falters for a second at the number.

“Wha’s it say?” Peter croaks.

“Nothing we can’t fix,” Tony replies briskly.

“But what’s it say?” Peter repeats. He weakly attempts to get the thermometer from Tony’s grip, but his mentor just holds the device out of his reach, lightly swatting the kid’s hand away.

Peter stares blankly at Tony for a second before glancing upwards. “What’s my temp, FRI?” he asks wearily.

“103.2,” FRIDAY reports.

Tony scoffs, finally flipping around the thermometer to show the ‘103.1’ displayed on the screen. “See? The doctor was right—manual is much better.”

Peter glances nervously at the orange pill bottle on the counter. “Does that mean I have to take the meds?” he whispers.

Tony hesitates for a second. While he knows 103 is not exactly life-threatening, it’s still a far cry from normal. “It would probably make you feel better if we could get it lower,” he reasons.

“It’s not worth it,” Peter mumbles. “They make me feel weird.”

“I wish we had something better for you, bud,” Tony says with a sigh. He considers their options for a moment. “Alright, how about we wait a while and see if it goes down on its own?” he suggests. “But if you hit 104, I’m making an executive decision.”

“Deal,” Peter croaks.

They sit there for a few more minutes, Peter taking deep breaths and looking like he might fall asleep right there against the tub. Finally, Tony’s stiff back protests. “How’s your stomach now?” he asks.

Without opening his eyes, Peter lifts a hand and makes a so-so gesture.

“Well, you seem pretty empty,” Tony goes on. “What do you say we move this party elsewhere?”

“Mm...‘kay,” Peter breathes. Tony pushes himself up to standing and helps him up, supporting him under the elbows. Peter sways on his feet. “Whoa…” he murmurs.

Tony quickly adjusts his grip to get a better hold on the kid. “You dizzy?” he asks.

“Kinda,” Peter admits. ”Just need a sec.”

When it seems like he can safely move without passing out, Tony helps him out of the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the bed.

“Let’s change your shirt, okay?” Tony says.

“Huh?” Peter glances down, for the first time seeming to notice how soaked with sweat his shirt is. “Oh. Yeah.”

Tony locates (what he hopes is) a clean t-shirt from the kid’s messy duffel bag on the floor and watches him pull it on. The simple act seems to take far more effort than usual.

“You wanna go back to sleep?” Tony offers.

Peter’s only response is a non-committal grunt. “Don’t think I can,” he admits. “Woke up at like, six. Couldn’t really fall back asleep.”

“Should we try the couch then?”

At the kid’s nod, Tony guides him out to the living room, keeping a firm grip around Peter’s upper arm for support. Morgan, Happy, and a staggering array of the five-year-old’s favorite toys are currently occupying at least two-thirds of the room’s large sectional sofa while reruns of Peppa Pig play on the TV.

“Peter!” Morgan exclaims when he comes into view. She hops down off the sofa and runs over to them while Happy stands up and starts clearing off some of the cushions to make room for Peter. “Is your tummy feeling better?” she asks. “Can you play now?”

Despite how miserable Peter looks, he manages to give her a half-smile. “Um, maybe in a little while…”

Tony takes pity on the kid and intervenes. “Peter’s not feeling that great, so how about we just watch a movie?” he suggests as he situates the teenager on the chaise section of the couch.

Morgan’s eyes light up. “Can we see Frozen 3?”

“God no,” Happy grumbles, sinking down into a nearby armchair. “That damn song with all of Olaf’s little frolicking snowball children was stuck in my head for a week last time.”

“There’s a Frozen 3 now?” Peter questions, his brow wrinkling. “There wasn’t even a Frozen 2 when I got dusted.”

“Yeah, well, global crisis or not, Disney marches on,” Tony retorts. He tugs a fuzzy blanket out of the stack in the wicker bin by the fireplace and tosses it to Peter, who gives a little grunt of thanks. “For the record, Cars 4 was better than Cars 2, but it was no Cars 3.”

“See, I think they peaked at Cars 5: European Adventure,” Happy argues.

“Nah,” Tony scoffs. “There were at least three too many roundabout jokes.”

“But Mater and Fillmore driving the Autobahn was peak comedy.”

Peter is still struggling to unfold the blanket, so Tony takes it back and shakes it open for him. “What are you in the mood for, kid?” he asks as he tucks it around Peter.

“Whatever you want,” Peter mumbles, leaning back against the pillows. He looks utterly exhausted—Tony figures he’ll be lucky to make it fifteen minutes into the movie before falling asleep. Best to go with something he’s already seen then.

“Lilo & Stitch?” he suggests.

The kids agree, Morgan with much more enthusiasm than Peter. Happy even gives his begrudging blessing on the basis that at least it’s ‘not another damn musical’.

(As if FRIDAY didn’t already have half a dozen audio recordings of him singing “Let It Go” in the shower).

Tony instructs FRIDAY to start the movie before heading back to Peter’s bathroom to gather all the supplies he left, and also snags the room’s small trash can because if there’s one thing he’s learned from Morgan, it’s that you can never be too careful.

Peter’s breathing has already evened out as the opening credits fade from the screen and Tony sinks down into the sofa beside him, and by the time Lilo explains why she can’t give Pudge a tuna fish sandwich, Peter is snoring quietly.

To Tony’s relief, Peter sleeps straight through the remainder of the movie, with Happy joining him somewhere around the halfway point. The moment the film ends, Morgan hops off the sofa. “I’m hungry,” she announces. “Can we have mac and cheese?”

Peter gives a low moan and stirs slightly in his sleep. Tony locks eyes with Morgan and presses a finger to his lips, tilting his head sideways in the boy’s direction.

Her eyes go wide with understanding and she tries again in a stage whisper (which honestly isn’t any better than her normal volume). “Can we have mac and cheese?”

Sighing, Tony pushes himself up to standing and prods her along to the kitchen. “Fine. But only if you eat a vegetable with it.”

Morgan grins. “Okay! I want corn.”

“Corn isn’t a real vegetable,” Tony grumbles. He steers them both into the room and moves towards the cabinet where they keep the pasta. “Pick something green.”

Her face falls for a moment. Then, just as quickly as they darkened, her eyes light up again. “Green jello!”

Tony rolls his eyes. He takes out a box of mac and cheese and then opens the fridge to take stock of what’s on hand. “You’re getting cucumber,” he says after a moment.

“I don’t like cucumber,” she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tony frowns at her. “But you said it was your favorite last week.”

“I don’t like it anymore,” she says simply. “It’s gross. Can we have pudding?”

“That’s the opposite of a vegetable,” Tony argues. “So if you’re eating that, now you have to have two vegetables.”

“Um… Potato chips?” she asks hopefully.

Tony runs a hand over his face in exasperation. “No, that’s not a—”

“Hey Tony?” Happy’s voice calls from the living room. There’s an edge of worry to it. “Can you come here?”

“Yeah, coming,” Tony replies, a feeling of dread already sinking in. He heads back to the living room, Morgan tailing along behind.

The sight awaiting him causes Tony’s heart to clench. Happy is standing over Peter, urgently shaking his shoulder while the kid moans incoherently and tosses in his sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare.

“He’s not waking up,” Happy says worriedly.

“I got it,” Tony says, quickly closing the distance between himself and the sofa. “Hey, Pete, naptime is over,” he commands as he taps Peter’s unusually warm cheek. “C’mon, rise and shine. I’d offer to make you some breakfast, but it looks like you’re already cookin’…”

It takes a moment, but finally Peter wakes. His eyes snap open and he sits up gasping.

“There we go,” Tony soothes, rubbing a hand down Peter’s arm. “You’re alright.”

Peter blinks at him. “...Mr. Stark?” Tears are already welling up in the kid’s eyes and falling before he can stop them. His breath hitches in his throat. “Oh god…” he sobs. “I thought… I-I was trapped and...”

“It’s okay.” He sits down beside Peter on the sofa and wraps an arm around him, pulling him into his side. Even six years out from the initial snap, Tony still has nightmares—he can only imagine what Peter must be going through. “You’re okay, you’re safe, just a dream,” he assures.

“Daddy?” Morgan asks nervously. Tony glances back and sees her standing just inside the room’s threshold, lip trembling.

“Hey, munchkin,” Tony says, giving her a forced smile. “Peter’s fine. You wanna go teach Uncle Happy how to make the mac and cheese? Don’t let him add tuna.”

Eyes still locked on Peter, Morgan nods slowly.

Happy moves over to take her hand. “C’mon, kiddo,” he says as he ushers her back to the kitchen. “And don’t listen to your daddy, tuna is a great source of protein…”

The moment they leave, Tony focuses his attention back on Peter, who is just now starting to get his breathing back under control.

“‘M’sorry…” Peter chokes out. “I just thought I was trapped there, and, and…”

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony says gently. “You’re here with me, not on Titan, not in the soul stone. You’re safe.”

“Titan?” Peter asks, his brow wrinkling. “Wha’ about Titan?”

Tony frowns. “Your nightmare? Trapped on Titan, right?”

Peter’s tears have stopped now and he’s staring at Tony with glassy eyes. “Wasn’t on Titan,” he mutters. “Nick Fury found out I was a spider and sucked me up in a giant vacuum cleaner”—his breath hitches again—“an’ I was swirlin’ around and I couldn’t get out, and someone was chasing me with a giant spray can, and there was this cat but like, a monster cat, and—”

Okay, that wasn’t what Tony expected. He places a hand on Peter’s forehead and feels the heat pouring off of him. Taking the thermometer from the coffee table, he turns it on and sticks it in Peter’s ear.

When it beeps this time, the display reads 104.2.

Tony lets out a low whistle, already starting to untangle the blanket from around Peter. “Alright... guess we’re doing the meds now.”

Peter groans, rubbing a hand at his eyes. “Mr. Stark…”

“Nope, non-negotiable,” Tony replies. He grabs the pill bottle from the coffee table along with the package of crackers. “And you have to eat something so they stay down.”

Despite his grumbling, Peter takes the crackers Tony passes him and nibbles at them between sips of ginger ale. When he’s managed to get two down, Tony gives him the pill.

“I know you’re not a fan, but it’ll help with the pain too,” Tony promises.

“Hm, that’s good…” Peter croaks. “Have a headache. And my throat hurts.”

Tony hums in sympathy. “I can imagine.”

Stepping out, he wets a washcloth with cool water in the bathroom and returns to place it over Peter’s forehead and eyes.

Immediately, Peter lets out a sigh. “That’s really nice,” he whispers.

They rest like that for a few minutes until a small voice interrupts them. “Um, Peter?”

Peter lowers the cloth and both of them glance back to see Morgan padding into the room, a stuffed corgi dog plushie tucked under one arm, an orange popsicle clutched in the other hand. Happy is standing just inside the threshold, leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed casually.

“Hey.” Peter manages a half-smile.

“I got you another juice pop,” she says, handing it over. “And this is Korg, he’ll make you feel better,” she adds as she nestles the toy into the crook of Peter’s elbow.

“Korg?” Peter questions as his fingers fumble to unwrap the popsicle.

“Thor named him,” Tony replies. “Apparently he’s got a buddy with the same name—thought it would be hilarious when he learned what this breed was called.”

“Uncle Happy said you had a scary dream,” Morgan goes on, plopping down on the couch next to the boy.

Peter’s already fever-flushed face goes a little redder. “Oh, yeah. I guess it was kinda silly.”

“You can tell Korg about it,” she says, stroking the plush dog’s head. “He can’t laugh because he’s not real.”

Seeming caught off guard by that, Peter barks out a sharp laugh which quickly morphs into coughs, but Tony is glad because it’s the first real humor he’s seen from the kid all day.

While Happy and Morgan eat their mac and cheese—with tuna for Happy, peas for Morgan—Tony manages to cajole Peter into eating half a can of chicken noodle before the kid nods off with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Sorry...” Peter murmurs as Tony dabs the spilled broth off his shirt with a wad of paper towels. “Tired.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah, that would be the meds kicking in,” he says. He checks Peter’s temperature again and sees it’s down to 102.7 now. “At least they’re working.”

“Hmm…” Peter hums sleepily.

“Let’s go ahead and move you to your real bed,” Tony decides. “It’ll be more comfortable to stretch out.”

“Hmm…” he says again.

Tony hoists the wobbly boy to his feet, supporting him under his arm. “You should probably have a shower when you wake up, but I’m thinking it’s a safety concern at the moment.”

“Hmm…”

“Okay, not in the chattiest mood, I get it…”

Tony shuffles him back to the guest room and changes his shirt again. Then he helps Peter crawl into bed and pulls the covers up around him.

“Alright underoos, take a nap,” he says softly. “I’ll keep the little troublemaker from bothering you.”

“Hmm... and Morgan too?” Peter murmurs.

“Smartass,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Keep an eye on him, FRI,” he commands the AI. “Sleep well, kid.”

After fixing himself his own lunch, Tony spends the next two hours alternating between entertaining a rambunctious five-year-old and trying to catch up on his backlog of SI paperwork for Pepper. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with Morgan, watching her color a page out of her Frozen 3 coloring book, as he skims through yet another proposal on his tablet. That’s when FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speakers.

“Boss, Peter’s temperature has just reached 103 degrees. He is awake and appears to be in distress,” FRIDAY reports.

“Shit,” Tony mutters, getting to his feet.

“You said only Mommy can say that word,” Morgan complains as she colors Elsa’s hair bright purple.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just borrowing it from her,” he mutters. “I’m gonna go check on Peter, okay?”

She nods, still coloring intently. “‘Kay.”

Tony hurries out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the guest bedroom, fully prepared to talk Peter down from another nightmare. What he’s not prepared for is the sight that awaits him.

Peter is sitting up in bed, hunched over himself and trembling. Liquidy vomit is running all down his shirt and soaking into the comforter.

“Aw, bud…” Tony sighs, quickly moving over to the bed. “You really go all out, don’t you?”

Peter doesn’t even look up. His breaths are coming out far too quick, and he’s mumbling something under his breath.

Tony places a hand on his shoulder, causing Peter to jerk his head up, revealing the tear tracks trailing down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Tony asks in alarm.

“S-Sorry…” Peter chokes out. “I just, for a minute, I didn’t know where I was. Called for May and she didn’ answer, so thought I was at the d-dorm, but this isn’t a bunk bed, an’ then I thought I was in the stone but it’s not orange, and then I felt sick but I couldn't get up fast enough, and I just—”

(Okay so the PTSD was just a bit delayed.)

“You’re okay, you’re fine,” Tony assures, rubbing a hand up and down over the kid’s back. “You’re here at the lake house and you’re safe.”

“’M’sorry…” Peter sniffs, hanging his head. “This is dumb, maybe I should just have May come pick me up”—his nose is dripping and he sniffs again—“you shouldn’t have to take care of me when I’m being all gross”—sniff—“a-and...”

Absently, Tony pulls several tissues from the box on the nightstand and holds them to Peter’s messy face. “Blow.”

Peter goes silent and Tony freezes as the realization of what he’s just done sinks in.

Tissues still pressed to his nose, Peter raises an eyebrow to his mentor. “D-Did… Did you just tell me to blow my nose?”

Tony recovers quickly. “C’mon, it’s swallowing all that crap that’s making you feel sick in the first place,” he points out. “Now blow.”

So Peter does.

Tony lowers the used tissue back down and tosses it into the trash can. “Better?”

Looking mildly traumatized, Peter deadpans, “Iron Man just wiped my nose.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll live,” Tony dismisses him with a hand wave. Then in a more gentle tone, he asks, “Now do you really want to go home? Because I get it if you do, but I promise, I really don’t mind taking care of you. And with your healing, you’ll probably be feeling better in another day or so. There’ll still be plenty of your break left.”

Peter hesitates. “I dunno. I mean…” He shrugs. “I guess, I don’t really want to leave, but…” he trails off, sounding conflicted.

After a moment, Tony intervenes. “Okay, here’s an idea,” he suggests, as casually as he can manage. “You’re looking a little more steady now, so how about I run a load of laundry and you go take a shower? You can call May after and decide what you want to do. Then we’ll go from there.”

A look of relief instantly washes over Peter at the suggestion. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he whispers. “Thanks.”

During the next half hour, Tony checks on Morgan—who is contentedly playing with toys on her bedroom floor—before stripping Peter’s bed and running a load of laundry. When he reenters the guestroom, he finds Peter sitting on the bare mattress in fresh pajamas and with wet hair, looking much more relaxed.

“How’s May?” Tony asks.

Peter shrugs. “Her shift just ended. She said she’s sorry I’m sick.” He pauses for a beat. “Also said she’s not surprised, given all the all-nighters I pulled during the last two weeks and the fact I’ve been mostly living off cereal, ramen noodles, and Fig Newtons this semester.”

Tony snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” According to FRIDAY, the lukewarm water of the shower has had the added benefit of bringing Peter’s temperature down to just over 102 and he’s looking significantly better for it. “Still wanna bail on us?”

Peter shakes his head, a bit sheepish. “Not if you don’t mind me staying.”

“Nah, ‘course not,” Tony assures. “Now you wanna go see if Morgan’s up for another movie yet?”

Peter agrees and the two of them shuffle upstairs. As they approach the landing, they can hear muffled voices issuing from the little girl’s bedroom.

“Do you want some more?” Morgan’s voice floats down the hall.

“Yeah, fine. Two sugar, no cream…” a gruff voice replies. “And one of those cookies.”

“No, no you have to call it a biscuit,” she insists, her tone just bordering on a whine. “Mommy says that’s more fancy.”

“It’s a double-stuffed Oreo,” Happy grouses. “It’s a goddamn cookie.”

Peter shoots his mentor a perplexed look. Tony just gives a shrug in return as he pushes Morgan’s door open and then they both immediately pause.

Happy glances up at them from where he’s seated cross-legged on the floor beside the kiddie table. One of Pepper’s silk scarves is wrapped around his shoulders making some sort of shawl, and he’s wearing Morgan’s flowery sun hat with several of her homemade plastic beaded necklaces hanging around his neck. Meanwhile, Morgan sits in the chair to his right, pouring pretend tea from her little plastic teapot into a tiny cup.

Peter leans closer into his mentor’s side. “I think my fever went up,” he whispers. “I’m hallucinating.”

Happy shrugs. “What can I say? She makes a mean chamomile.” Pinching the minuscule handle of his teacup between his thumb and forefinger, pinky raised, he lifts it to his lips and mimes taking a sip.

“Do you guys wanna join us?” Morgan asks hopefully. She’s dressed in her yellow Princess Belle dress and her hair is sporting a loose braid that definitely wasn’t there last time Tony saw her.

Peter hesitates a second, looking into the little girl’s wide eyes. Then he lets out a small sigh. “Well, May did say I should be drinking more fluids…” he mutters as he moves towards the kiddie table, Tony following along behind.

When Pepper arrives home from work just past seven that evening, she finds Peter, Tony, and Happy passed out on the sofa and snoring softly amid an array of Morgan’s plush toys. The little girl sits beside them with a bowl of popcorn nestled in her lap, intently watching Frozen 3 on the room’s massive TV.

“Mommy!” Morgan greets, hopping off the sofa and running over to her.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Pepper says as she scoops the five-year-old up in her arms. She gazes around the room, taking in the interesting fashion choices on display. It seems half of her accessory drawer has been commandeered to adorn the three men on the sofa.

Morgan’s full plastic tea service—now complete with Gatorade in the teacups and Saltine crackers on the plastic saucers—has been moved to the living room coffee table. Besides the dishes, the table also contains the thermometer, an empty soup bowl, and a box of tissues, and on the floor in front of the couch is a lined trash can. “What happened here?” she asks.

“Peter didn’t feel good, but Daddy took his temperature and gave him medicine and I got him juice pops,” Morgan reports. “And then we had tea and I gave Uncle Happy and Daddy makeovers.”

Pepper peers closer, noticing the two older men’s nails are painted with sparkly lilac-colored polish and their cheeks are looking a bit more glittery than normal.

“Good girl,” Pepper praises, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead. “Looks like you all took good care of each other.”

Fic Masterlist

For more fluffy illness, try:

Give the Kid an Oscar

Bedridden Spider

Sick as a Bug

#sick peter parker #peter parker whump #irondad fic #spiderman fic #flu #fluffy illness #sickfic #morgan stark #my fic

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seasonofthegeek · 5 years

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Camp Fake It Til You Make It

This drabble featuring Alya and Kim is an anonymous ko-fi request from the fanfic trope mash-ups featuring the prompts “summer camp AU” and “fake dating”. Thanks so much for the support, Nonny!

___

“Please, Al, pretty please with a cherry on top,” Kim begged, following Alya from table to table as she put down cabin place cards for the campers that would be arriving soon. “I’m literally begging you. I can get on my hands and knees if you really want. I can even put my big toe in my ear if that helps.”

Alya paused her task long enough to look back at him and raise an eyebrow. “In what way would that help?”

He blinked. “I don’t know, but it’s what I’ve got to offer. It usually makes people laugh.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She pushed past him to start on the next row of tables.

"Why?”

“Because it feels weird and it would be lying for no good reason.”

“The very good reason is because Ondine’s dating the guy running the obstacle course and I’m going to look like a loser to everyone if I’m single now and she’s already moved on when we were engaged last summer.”

“Why do you even care what people think?”

Kim slumped down on one of the benches and watched Alya continue to wind through the tables. “I don’t know. I never have before but...” He scrunched his nose. “I guess maybe I’m still not over her.”

“Well, duh.”

“Hey.”

Alya dropped the remaining place cards on one of the tables with a sigh and made her way back to Kim, taking the bench opposite his. “I thought you guys parted on good terms.”

“We did, I guess, but...but they were mostly her terms,” he shrugged. “I’m not mad at her or anything because it would’ve been bad to get married when she wasn’t into it, but I still miss her.”

“You might be a little smarter than I gave you credit for.” She winked when she saw his frown and was glad to see it smooth into a small smile though it still held an edge of sadness. “I guess I’m just wondering how it’s going to help you if everyone thinks we’re dating. You’re still going to be upset about Ondine, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he admitted, “but I’m trying not to be.”

“It’s okay to be upset if you aren’t a butthead about it, but is this just something to try to make her jealous?”

Kim shifted uncomfortably. “Not entirely.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Max said getting a fake girlfriend for the summer might help me move on because people were statistically more interested in drama and and me still being single while Ondine isn’t would be more dramatic,” he rambled, “and you’re the only person I can imagine trying to pretend with and it not be weird.”

“It would still be weird.”

“Nu-uh. We’ve known each other, like, forever, and we don’t like each other like that and all you’d have to do is stand near me during meetings and stuff. We already hang out during free time anyway.”

“What about Alix? All the stuff is the same with her too.”

“She’d laugh in my face if I said any of this to her.”

Alya pulled at one of the loose frays from her cut-off jeans. “You promise it won’t get weird?”

“I double doozy promise,” Kim swore.

“And what do I get out of this little deal?”

“Oh, uh, hmmmm. What do you want?”

“A free pass to use you as a fake boyfriend in the future if the need arises. One of my aunts likes to visit and it gets exhausting telling her I’m not seeing anyone.”

Kim beamed at her and held out his hand. “It’s a deal. You’re my fake girlfriend for two and a half months and then I’m your fake boyfriend whenever you need me.”

Alya eyed his big hand warily before placing her own in it. “Deal.”

___

“One of the many perks of being my girlfriend--”

“Fake girlfriend,” Alya reminded him.

Kim continued, nonplussed. “Is that I happen to be an excellent maker of s’mores.” He held a line of marshmallows speared on a steel rod over the open fire.

“You’ve made me s’mores before so I think that’s just something you do.”

“Ah, but Boyfriend Kim’s s’mores are ultimately better than Friend Kim’s s’mores.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be the judge of that.” Alya braced her palms against the edge of the smoothly cut log and leaned back. The fire was almost too much heat on the muggy summer night but it was still nice to look at. “These are always my favorite nights.”

“The ones without the campers?”

“Mmhmm. It’s that nice period between finishing with one set and not dealing with getting ready for the next one just yet. That’s tomorrow Alya’s problem.”

“Yeah, I get that. You had a good group this week though.”

“They were sweet,” she agreed. “How were yours?”

“Fun as hell. I got them to all try to rope swing at the lake and not one of them wussed out.”

“We have different hopes for campers,” she noted. “I’m glad you had fun though.” She caught the odd way he was looking at her and it made her feel...something she wasn’t used to feeling around Kim. She cleared her throat. “You might be too hot.”

“What? Oh!” Kim yelped as the marshmallows caught fire and he dropped the rod into the flames. They both watched the lumps of sugar goodness blacken and fall off.

“So you were saying Boyfriend Kim is better at this? Have you seen him around anywhere?” Alya teased.

___

“I can’t believe you two finally hooked up.”

Alya glared at Alix who smirked in return. She made the mistake of looking past the smaller woman to see that Alix’s comment had grabbed Ondine’s attention on the other side of the small changing room by the pool. She was doing a poor job of attempting to look like she wasn’t listening to their conversation. Great.

“It’s not a big deal.” Alya jerked the top of her sock up too quickly and heard the fabric let out a pointed ripping sound. She ignored it and picked up her shoe. Alix knew she and Kim weren’t really dating. She’d figured it out the first week of camp so she was obviously doing this for Ondine’s benefit. A month and a half in and Alya had been able to avoid any major awkwardness from the situation and here came the half-pint with hot pink hair to stir the pot.

“I think it’s awesome. He needed someone smart and pretty.” Alix stretched out on the bench, apparently in no hurry to change out of her bathing suit and into her counselor uniform. “I’ve never seen him so happy.”

Alya could feel her face burning and didn’t dare look in Ondine’s direction. “Yeah, he’s great,” she muttered noncommittally. “You better hurry or your cabin is going to go crazy without you there.”

Alix waved a careless hand. “I got a buncha goody-two-shoes this week. They wouldn’t dare.” She stretched lazily and stood. “But yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it.”

“See you at dinner.” Alya gave her a direct look that she’d seen make lesser people shake but the most reaction she got from Alix was a slight upturn of her mouth. She hurried out of the changing room and ran straight into Ondine who’d been suspiciously loitering right outside the doorway.

“Oh, sorry.” Ondine tucked a short lock of hair behind her ear and a blush was spreading out beneath her freckles. “Um, I couldn’t help but overhear...”

Alya tried to meet her eyes but settled for looking at her nose instead. “Oh?” The word caught in her throat and she held back a grimace.

“I just thought I’d say...well...” She sucked in a loud breath. “I’m glad Kim found you. He’s wonderful and I hate things didn’t work out the way we thought they would, but...oh, but now he has you, and I just think that’s, um, that’s great,” she finished lamely. “So...great for you guys.”

“Thanks,” Alya repled slowly. “I appreciate that.”

Ondine gave her a quick nod and then she was quickly walking past her and out of the gate around the pool. Alya took a moment to gather herself before following the same path but veering away towards the boys’ cabins instead of returning to her own.

Halfway there, she spun on her heels and retreated in the direction of her cabin. Her campers would be waiting for her and she needed to be a responsible counselor. She could fake break-up with her fake boyfriend later.

The more she thought about the situation, the more irritated she became. It’d been unfair of Kim to ask her to play along with his charade. There had been no consideration for her feelings in the whole matter and now she was--

Alya stopped in her tracks, a twig snapping under the heel of her sneaker. Now she was what? Why did she care if Kim was thinking about her feelings? What did that have to do with anything? It wasn’t as if she had feelings about Kim, at least not anything more than friendship feelings.

She didn’t.

She most certainly didn’t.

She started to walk again, but this time slower as if her feet weren’t certain they wanted to reach their destination. It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with Kim. He was obviously attractive and that dimple in his left cheek that showed up when he smiled was definitely nice to look at. He was goofy but it was endearing and even if he wasn’t exactly smart in the way most people think of, he noticed more in others and their feelings than most people and that was an asset all on its own.

It’s not like falling for Kim would be something to be ashamed of, but Alya didn’t have those kind of feelings towards him. They were friends and fellow camp counselors and fake boyfriend and girlfriend and that was the extent of it.

That was it.

She was almost sure of it, but the funny feeling in her gut was making her wonder.

___

“I made sure Ondine knew you and Alya are dating.” Alix made air quotes around the last word. “Oi! Manon! If you keep swimming with that lanyard around your neck, you’ll die!” She eyed the young girl in the lake and then nodded in approval when the lanyard was tossed on a float.

Kim went for nonchalant and failed miserably. “How’d she react?”

“I don’t know. Weird. I heard her telling Alya she was happy for you guys, but it sounded all fake.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get back with her if this whole jealousy plan works. Come on, dude. Don’t be dumb.”

“It’s not a jealousy plan.” Kim stood and picked up a stray beach ball that landed on the pier and punted it back out into the lake to the cheers of campers. “It was just supposed to help with the drama.”

“Ah, the drama. This is why I don’t date, well, and like a thousand other reasons.”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought you liked Ondine. You were going to be my better man at the wedding.”

“Which I still say is a step up from being the best man,” she nodded. “Max can shove it.” She flicked at a water beetle that had crawled up the plank towards her hand. “I don’t know. I never had a problem with her, but I don’t like the way she did you so now I don’t like her.”

“Aww, you do care about me,” Kim teased.

“Shut up.”

His expression grew serious. “I don’t want you to not like her because of that. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Alix shrugged. “Anyway, what’s the deal with you and Alya?”

“What do you mean? You know the deal.”

“Okay, sure, the deal.” She made air quotes again. “But I’m talking about the real deal that neither one of you want to admit to.”

Kim looked at her in confusion. “Uh, what?”

“You honestly don’t know that you’ve fallen for her?”

The universe was on his side because before Kim was forced to answer, there was a chorus of screams as one of the male campers broke the surface of the water with a bloody gash on his temple from showing off during his jump. Kim stood and went to the edge of the dock to help the laughing boy out of the water.

He didn’t dare look at Alix as he passed by. Her words were still ringing in his ears.

____

“I can’t believe we’re about to start the last week. I feel like this summer went by a lot quicker than the others.” Alya watched Kim force marshmallows onto the roasting rod and frowned. He seemed distracted and irritated and not his usual cheerful self during the campfires they had at the end of each week once the campers left.

“Yeah, I guess.” He swore under his breath as one of the marshmallows tore and dropped to the ground.

“Do you want some help?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Alya didn’t like the way his quick response made her feel. She’d started looking forward to these nights, counting down the days and hours until every camper left the grounds and she could meet Kim at one of the more hidden fire pits and enjoy a relaxing night with just the two of them. She refused to look too deeply into why she’d grown to love them so much, falling back on the easy answer that it was simply a nice treat after a long week of babysitting. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re too tired or something.”

Kim’s head whipped up and he looked at her with wide eyes. “No, I want to.”

She felt taken aback by his expression. “Okay...you just don’t seem like you’re in the best mood.”

He picked up the fallen marshmallow and tossed it into the fire. “Sorry. I think I’m a little bummed we’re at the end already.”

“Is it because I’ve been such a great fake girlfriend?” Alya batted her eyelashes and tried to pretend that she didn’t care what his answer was.

Kim grinned at her but it didn’t have the same spark his smiles usually held. “Something like that. Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”

She considered it. “The s’mores made up for the awkward bits.”

“I better get to roasting then.” His smile took on more of a genuine feel and that made Alya relax.

“Hop to it, mister.”

He saluted her and finished spearing the marshmallows.

Alya watched him, trying to decide if she wanted to continue in the same conversational direction or change the subject. She opted to be brave. “Do you think your plan worked?”

“Hmmm?”

“Was there less drama since other counselors thought we were dating?”

“There would’ve been less if Alix wasn’t around.” He shook his head. “But yeah, I think it really helped. Thank you.” He met her eyes over the fire and Alya felt like her heart was leaping into her throat. He really was gorgeous.

“It was no big deal,” she answered and was surprised her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.

“I guess you’ll want to fake break up at the end of the week, huh?” Kim watched the marshmallows soften and Alya watched him.

“I...well, that was the deal, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“But, you know, there will be the counselor appreciation thing like two weeks after we leave here.”

Kim frowned. “I forgot about that.”

“So I guess if we still need to be dating for that, we can be.” Alya bit her lip shyly.

“That would probably be good if you don’t mind.” He met her eyes but then quickly looked back down at the marshmallows as he pulled them away from the flames.

“I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Kim’s lips spread in a wide grin as he began to assemble their s’mores.

Alya echoed and knew she was smiling like an idiot. “Good.”

“And you know, when you look at it that way, next summer really won’t be that far away so it might be easier if--”

“Kim, just ask me out already,” Alya interrupted.

He jumped a little and then beamed at her. “You wanna keep being my fake girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

“But for a few s’mores, I could be persuaded to be your real one maybe.”

“Is that so?”

“Eh, we’ll see how the night goes,” she teased, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

Buy me a cherry coke?

#kimya #le chien kim #alya cesaire #miraculous ladybug

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thisisthepartwhereyou · 5 years

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BEASTARS MINI-STORY #4: “A Different kind of Charity pt. 2” by JCL

--- Several male admirers of varying, herbivore-species are crowding around Juno. Juno smiles politely, but it looks she is starting to get a little uncomfortable with all the attention she is getting. DUCK: "Who is this fetching young lady?" SEYMOUR: "Louis friend, from the drama club." TOM: "She's a dancer!" DUCK: "In that case, you gotta save me a dance for tonight." KOALA: "With your flat duck-feet? Get real!" One of them, a LLAMA (llama, 27 years old, dressed in a black suit with a green shirt and black bowtie) who appears to quite drunk, is taking a keen interest in Juno's posterior. He is reaching for it with an open hand. LLAMA: (My, my, what cute little ass she's got...!) Suddenly, Louis grabs the llama's arm by the wrist and pulls it away from its intended target. Louis fixes him with a pair of murderous eyes atop a stiff smile. LOUIS: "I LIKE YOUR WATCH. IS IT SWISS?" He refers to the expensive-looking watch on the llamas arm. The llama looks terrified. LLAMA: "N-n-n-no?" LOUIS: "I see." Louis lets go of his hand. The llama and a few of the admirers takes steps back. Louis moves closer to Juno and extends his arm. LOUIS: "Juno, shall we find our seats?" Juno blinks a little in surprise. After a second she grabs it, like she did when they first walked in. The two walk away toward the restaurant-section. Seymour, Tom and the rest of the admirers gives each other nervous looks as they leave. --- We skip ahead and see that Juno and Louis are now sitting opposite each other at a round table in the restuarant-section, looking through a menu each. Suddenly, Juno puts her menu down to look at Louis. JUNO: "So what happened to not being 'touchy-feely?'" Louis's focus remains on his menu. LOUIS: "I changed my mind." JUNO: "Why?" Louis raises the menu a little higher, like he is shielding himself from her look. LOUIS: "Those guys didn't folllow the same rules. It may have bothered me a bit." Juno looks confused. JUNO: "Not follow the same rules? What do you-" However, her thoughts suddenly illustrate the whole previous scene with cute chibi-versions of everyone involved. She imagines Chibi-Louis moving the chibi-llama's hand away from Chibi-Juno. As he does, she visualises a circular arrow appearing between the llama's hand and Chibi-Juno's behind, and from there on calculate what Louis meant. As the chibi-sequence dissappears, Juno attains a look of realization. JUNO: "Oh! Oh...!" Juno then stares at Louis. Behind the menu we can see that he looks embarrassed. LOUIS: (This is ridiculous!) --- We go over to a flashback, where a 7-year-old Louis is sitting at a long dinnertable. He is looking over a series of cutlery lined out next to his plate and seems to struggle with differentiating between five different kinds of forks. His tutor, a proper-looking penguin, seems to lecture him as he picks up a table fork instead of a salad fork. LOUIS: (After Oguma took me home, I got everything. Wealth, education, manners, purpose...) --- LOUIS: (Despite this, there's been plenty of times where I've been envious...) We see a flashback of Louis and Legosi fighting over Haru's kidnapping. LOUIS: (I was envious of Legosi for his strenght, and I was envious of Juno for winning over all the members of the club at such a short length of time) This transitions over to another flashback where Louis shoots Juno an annoyed look as she happily greets the other members of the club. --- We flash forward to just recently at the UniFeed charity. We see Louis observing Juno as the crowd of male admirers gather around her, greeting and complimenting her. LOUIS: (This is something different though. I didn't care that she won those people over so fast. No, it's when they were getting too close... And the way they looked at her...) He observes that several of these admirers are starting to get a little too friendly for a group of strangers; Gestures like a hand on her shoulder, kissing her hand and looking a little too keenly at her exposed back. LOUIS: (IT MADE MY BLOOD BOIL!) Louis hand tightens into a fist, and he glares at the group. LOUIS: (Jealousy... That was jealousy!) --- Louis looks panicked and regretful behind his menu. LOUIS: (How could I have acted so stupid?! She probably could've managed just fine without me coming to her rescue. She's a big girl, not some damsel in distress!) Juno reaches out and grabs his menu, lowering it so that she can see his face. JUNO: "Louis-senpai, did you get jealous back there?" At first, Louis looks completely stone-faced. LOUIS: "No." However, as Juno continues to stare, this facade begins to crack and he looks away. LOUIS: "... Maybe." Finally, he sighs and meets her gaze. LOUIS: "A bit...!" Juno crosses her arms and gives Louis a bothered look. JUNO: "You know, I can't help but to notice the irony: You worried that I would be the one to act less than platonic, but so far, you're the one being awfully non-platonic. So how do you want it? It's a bit annoying when you jump back and forth, so... Hands on, or hands off?" Louis seems to ponder about this, before giving an answer. LOUIS: "Hands on. At least to ward off other hands from inappropriate places." Juno rolls her eyes and begins to speak in an ironic fashion. JUNO: "Okay master, but I still need to shake hands and give an occasional hug, otherwise it'll just be rude. Is that alright with you or should I go and fetch my leash first?" She mimes having a leash around her neck which is getting pulled. Louis looks really annoyed at this. LOUIS: "I am not a fricking taliban! Of course it's alright!" Juno laughs at this. JUNO: "Good. And you don't have to worry about my innapropriate places..." She leans forward and gives him a seductive look. JUNO: "... Since you've clearly called shotgun." Louis eyes widen and he looks away with a blush on his face. LOUIS: "I have not! I mean, I did not-" They are then approached by a DOG WAITRESS (Cocker Spaniel, 25 years old, black and white waitress clothes). DOG WAITRESS: "Are you ready to order?" Louis coughs and takes up his menu. LOUIS: "Ehum, yes. I'll be having a greek salad, some garlic-bread and a glass of ginger ale." The waitress begins to write the order down on the notebook. Meanwhile, Juno grimaces as she hears the word 'garlic-bread.' JUNO: (Ew, garlic!) The waitress then turns her attention to Juno. DOG WAITRESS: "And the lady?" Juno looks a bit weirded out at being referred to as a 'lady' despite being younger than the waitress. JUNO: (Lady?) "I'll have a spinach and mushroom omelette. And some orange juice." DOG WAITRESS: "Got it." The waitress writes this down as well and then takes the two menus. She walks away. Juno suddenly looks self-conscious about something. JUNO: "I didn't think to ask, am I supposed to tip the servers?" LOUIS: "Don't worry, I'll take care of that." Juno looks surprised and gives off a wide grin. JUNO: "Louis, always so generous!" Louis smiles and shakes his head in feigned annoyance. LOUIS: "Juno, always the leech." A litte vein appears on Juno's head and she looks a bit offended. JUNO: "Hey, I wouldn't mind paying!" She then swiftly shifts into a theatrical, feminine pose, hand over her heart and everything. JUNO: "But if we are to go by traditional gender roles anyway..." Louis sweatdrops at this. LOUIS: "It's hard to imagine you being a traditional ANYTHING." (And what's with that pose?) Juno then leans forward and leans her chin on her hand. JUNO: "Anyway, how does the program look? Are we supposed to sit here all night?" LOUIS: "Of course not. It's a charity, so there's a number of events to go by, including dance, a couple of performances from the band, speeches held by the hosts and speakers from UniFeed. Then there's always the gambling table, the bar and mingling." JUNO: "I look forward to the dancing. It's been a while." Louis looks a little reluctant as she mentions this, thinking back to when he danced with Juno the last time. LOUIS: "Yes... Though maybe it won't go as smooth as last time, on account of my leg." JUNO: "You still have problems with it?" Louis looks up, but then, he notices something across the room: A lion that appears to be a member of the Shishigumi, the criminal group he formerly led. He immediately gets up and walks toward him, leaving a confused-looking Juno behind. LOUIS: "I am sorry, I just saw someone I need to talk to. I'll be back shortly." JUNO: "Ah- What...?" Louis quickly disappears out of sight. Juno blinks and then puffs her cheeks in annoyance as she is left alone. JUNO: (Jeez, he sure blows hot and cold!) Then she begins to look kind of sly though. JUNO: (But all in all, I think things are going pretty well. I didn't expect him to get all green-eyed, but considering the circumstances, that could work more to my benefit rather than against me. All in all, Juno's seduction plan, aka operation 'Good Moon Rising,' phase 2, is progressing according to plan. So far, there hasn't been anything I can't handle) OGUMA: "Young lady, if I may bother you." Juno looks up to see that she has been approached by Louis's father, Oguma. Accompanying him is SHIGURE (Capybara, female, ca 35 years old, glasses and grey blazer over a white shirt and a long skirt). OGUMA: "I saw you with my son as you entered. You wouldn't happen to accompany him for the night?" Juno's eyes widen. JUNO: "...!" (Louis father?) TO BE CONTINUED...!

#beastars #louis #juno #red deer #grey wolf #shipping #x #romance #a different kind of charity #part 2 #mini story #fanfiction #jcl

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 5

Well. Last episode was a thing. I’d gathered that there were some dark parts about this show, what with Mr. Freeze killing off military police by literally boiling them, and then Lust stabbing Cornello. But I wasn’t expecting something as dark as Shou’s actions. It’s interesting, Tephi mentioned that we seem to be getting themes in our shows. She gets “this is so weird!” with man-eating giants, macho drill power, fan service, ect. I get “look how fun NOPE HORROR AND HEARTBREAK”. Wonder if that’s going to continue. Actually, since the last post-credits said they boys would encounter Scar, I’m not that optimistic.

Narrator’s recapping Ed and Al’s failed study group, how Ed’s grief-stricken at his powerlessness. Episode 05: “Rain of Sorrows” House in a field? Wait. Ah, captions are saying it’s Ed (Age 5), calling to Mama Elric. Flashback? Aw, Baby!Ed transmuted a little horse statue for his mother. That’s cute- NOPE NOT CUTE NOT CUTE SWEET LETO MAMA ELRIC JUST TURNED INTO CHIMERA Aw hell no, this is a nightmare isn’t it? Ed’s seeing his failure to bring his mother back, Nina and Alexander melding- And he wakes up. Leto, but that was disturbing. Why do I keep watching this show at night again? Al asks if Ed’s alright, waking up from a dream like that. Right, since Al’s in the armor I guess he doesn’t sleep, so he doesn’t have much to do while Ed’s out for the count except read. Cut to Central (or is this East Command?), Ed hesitates to knock at a door until Riza opens it, surprised to see the Elric Brothers so early. They’ve stopped in to ask what’s going to happen to Tucker and Nina. Riza reports that Tucker was supposed to be decertified and stand trial… but both he and Nina are dead. The Elrics are shocked to hear that they’ve both been murdered. Riza says they don’t know who did it (hmmm, maybe this “Alchemist” was killed by that guy who you know’s been going around killing a bunch of alchemists, hmmm?), so she’s heading to the scene of the crime. And she tells the brothers to not go, because they don’t need to see it. At the house, Armstrong and Hughes are once again unfortunately serious as they examine the scene, Hughes complaining that he’s always one step ahead of them. Colonel Roy appears, asks why it sounds like they were expecting this. Did he not know about Scar? Wait, what? Cornello? Didn’t you get Extreme Acupuncture? What are you doing, preaching to the people of Liore who should really know better by now? Oh dear, “Cornello” is preaching to his wide-eyed followers to rise up and attack the people who can rearrange matter at will with farm tools. That’s gonna work out grrrrreat. Hey, good for you, [Man C], pointing out the crazy-talk! But unfortunately the others shout him down. Oh, Lust! So it’s a Corrupt Priest Hologram? However the trick’s being done, it’s turned Liore into a battleground, people beating the crud out of each other as a little girl cries off to the side, in case we didn’t realize that this was Bad. Lust and Gluttony are watching the chaos from on high, as Fake-Cornello walks up and says he’s got his own responsibilities to get back to. More talk about how humans are simple-minded, violent creatures, then Lust asks for ‘Envy’ to lose the costume. And hey, it’s the third Goth from the into sequence! Glad to finally have a name for the guy. Whoops, the Assistant Pastor saw the transformation, and unfortunately reacted loudly rather than run away. Envy takes offense to being called a ‘monster’, and then Gluttony has a snack. While there’s some unpleasant chewing going on, Envy mentions that Tucker is dead. And that they should care because it was “him” that was responsible for the murder. Lust does not seem to like Scar, bad history? And the Flame Colonel and Fullmetal Alchemist are there too? Seems all their enemies are gathering in one- Wait, what? “As furious as I am that he interfered with our work here, we can’t very well let him die.” Whoa whoa whoa, what’s the story here? The Goths are actually working to protect Ed? Why? Why would these people who just gleefully drove a town to riot be protecting our protagonist? Ok, that line just opened up a plethora of possibilities, I’ve got dozens of half-baked theories to try and sort out now. Do they work for someone who would not approve of Ed being harmed, Monkey D. Dragon style? Are they scouting him out as a potential recruit, ala Slaughterhouse Nine? Do they want to get their hands on Al’s collected recipes? Why do these Goths want Ed unharmed? ...oh. OH. Ok, hit pause too soon, another line just threw out my old theories and replaced them with new ones. “He’s an important sacrifice.” So it’s not that they want him unharmed, it’s that they need him to die at a future time. Why? What do they gain out of killing Ed? While my poor head is spinning, Gluttony finishes his meal as Lust and Envy work on their plans, starting with the man they’re discussing back at Command: Scar. The State Alchemists don’t really know anything else beyond the name, which they’re just using because of his picture. Literally, the only information they have is he has a large scar on his forehead. Roy’s heard stories about the man, it seems. Hughes just complains that following this order from the military police means his other work is piling up. Scar’s killed five State Alchemists in Central, with a nationwide count up to ten. And a few days ago he took down Grand, the- Brigadier General? Wow, didn’t realize the guy had such a high rank. And if Scar took down such a powerful Alchemist that easily, disregarding how cocky Grand was acting? Probably best for our characters to increase their escorts and lie low. After all, with Roy and Tucker as the only State Alchemists of note around… Roy has the same reaction that I have: “Oh no!” Out in the rain (man, this storm is going on for ages), Ed and Al are sitting at a statue, Ed repeating something: “Alchemy is the science of understanding the flow of matter and its laws… the process of comprehension, deconstruction, and reconstruction. The world flows, too. It must also follow laws. Everything circulates… even Death is a part of that circulation. You must accept the flow.” A lesson drummed into their head by Teacher. Right, we saw a scene of her teaching the brothers in Ep 2, didn’t we? Ed says he thought he understood it, but now says he didn’t. First his mom, now Nina? And heading out into the rain hoping it would “wash away some of the gloom”, but it’s not working. Al then doubles down on the depression, talking about how he can’t even feel the raindrops. Would somebody please give these poor boys a hug? Gah! Not you! Scar’s here! “You, boy, you’re the Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric, correct?” NO. NO HE’S NOT! Well that was abrupt! Without another word Scar goes for the kill, it’s only Al grabbing his big brother out of the way that saves his life. Ed snaps back, Transmutes a quick stone cage around the attacker. But Scar easily blasts his way out, and the Elrics make a break for it. Or they try to, but Scar’s easily keeping up, shattering stairs and pillars as they flee. “Damn it, what the hell is this guy’s problem?! Making enemies isn’t something that I- Well… I never really avoided it. But there’s no reason someone should be trying to kill me!” First off, humor! Glad to see it back in the show! Second, yeah! What’s your problem, Scar? They race into an alleyway, but Scar calls up a wall to block them off. Ed demands to know who their attacker is. “As long as there are ‘creators’ like you in the world, there must also be destroyers.” That explains nothing, dude. Ed and Al get ready to fight, but Scar only smiles as they charge. Please get past him, please get past hi- AL! NO! Scar just dodged them both, then blew a Leto-damned hole in Al’s armor! Go away, commercial-break cards! Not now! Scar’s distracted for a moment at nobody being inside the armor, but still easily counters Ed’s attack and zaps him. But thank goodness he grabbed his arm like every other baddie. Although now he knows the weakness. *gulp* Y’know, as terrified as I am for the brothers right now, I have to respect Scar’s analysis ability. He instantly figured out that Ed’s making a Transmutation Circle by pressing his hands together, so his first target is his “abhorrent right arm”. And SWEET LETO he does, instantly! Ed’s arm is, just, gone! Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. Al’s collapsed in the alley screaming for Ed to run away, Ed’s trying to move back in shock, but falls to the right without his arm, and now that Scar’s prevented Ed from using his “heretic’s alchemy” (and just what are you doing, you hypocrite?) he’s going in for the kill. Aw, but he offers Ed a moment to pray. That’s nice of him. Ed? Ed, what are you doing? Aw. Aw, no. Ed’s clarifying that he’s Scar’s target, not his brother. And trying to make Scar promise that he won’t hurt Al. Ed, no. Ed, run! Get up and run! RUN! Gunshot? Hot damn, the cavalry has arrived! Shoot that murderer! Or arrest him, whatever works. Just get him away from my poor Elrics. Oh, what the heck. Scar’s spouting about how Alchemists alter things from their natural form, profaning the true creator God, saying that he’s here to hand down God’s judgement. *Sigh* Buddy, really? You’re gonna go the “unnatural” route? Not to bring religion into it, but I couldn’t help but notice that you’re wearing sunglasses and clothes. You don’t exactly find those things growing on trees. So no, your “natural form is best form” isn’t gonna work with me. And yeah, tell the half-dozen people holding guns on you that you’ll eliminate them if they interfere with you killing a kid. That’s gonna go over grrrreat. Roy? Roy, what are you doing? Come on, buddy. You know the saying “The man who wins a fist-fight is the one who brings friends with guns”? Why are you ignoring that, handing your gun off to Riza and telling everyone to stay out of it? Aaand I just remembered that Roy’s Flame Gloves don’t work when wet, and it’s raining. What are you planning to do, taunt him? Well, whatever he’s planning, it distracts Scar, he steps away from Ed and charges at the higher target. Scar charges, Roy prepares his plan, Riza runs forward… five seconds later ...ok, let me process what just happened. Scar lunged forward for his insta-kill Face Grab, and what did Roy do? He snapped his fingers, and there was a pathetic *pop*. Yeah, what I just said about Roy having a plan? He didn’t, he actually tried to do his Flame Alchemy. In the rain. He really forgot that his gloves are worthless when wet. But thankfully, Riza seems to have the brains of the duo, and managed to knock Roy off his feet in the split second before Scar’s hand connected. I just… wow. Roy, you are an idiot, and you had best thank Riza for saving your life. I managed to pause at just the right time to capture the incident. Here’s a screenshot, I’d say the last two words best describe Roy’s actions.

Just… wow, dude. You were an idiot. Time resumes as Riza goes guns-akimbo at Scar, who dodges into the alley. The alley with Al still in there. Uh oh. And oh my Leto Roy, don’t you dare complain at the lady who just saved your life. “Useless on rainy days” indeed. Scar’s back to ranting at the people with guns. Someone shoot this guy already. NO WAIT, EVEN BETTER! “I’d like to see you try it!” The Mighty Armstrong has arrived! Punch… to the ground. Good try! Armstrong keeps up the boasting as some other Alchemists run by and gather up Ed. “We’ll see how you fare against the Strong Arm Alchemist, Alex Louis Armstrong!” [Adventure String Music] has started up, it is on! As Scar is not backing down, The Mighty Armstrong will give him a demonstration of the art of alchemy that has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations! Punch to the stone to make an arrowhead, that narrowly misses the murderer. ...uh hey, all you guys with guns? Scars looking away from you now, rightly distracted by The Mighty Armstrong. You wanna put a bullet in his leg, or something? No? Just gonna stand there and watch the show? Ok, whatever. Ed’s informed that this is the guy who murdered Tucker and Nina, and then the Alchemist yells at Armstrong for his property damage. Armstrong what. What are you doing? When did you take your shirt off before spouting about destroying to create? The other State Alchemists question his decision to strip, even as The Mighty Armstrong continues to manly-glint. The Mighty Armstrong notes that Scar understands the truth of that statement, and the onlookers catch on to Scar being an alchemist who stopped at the ‘destruction’ stage of ‘construction, destruction, and reconstruction’. And they call him out for his hypocrisy, while wondering why he’s targeting other alchemists. Meanwhile Scar and Armstrong continue to brawl, Scar thinking about how Armstrong’s unusually coordinated for his size. Oh, Scar’s cornered! Armstrong’s got him! Wait. Oh no. No no no. Scar’s doing his analysis thing again, he’s identified a moment when Armstrong's swing is too wide. Armstrong, get back before he grabs you! Hey, he did it, Armstrong jumped away! And… ah, finally! Riza proves she has the brains of the Alchemists as she starts shooting at Scar again. Did she get him? No, even with all that he was quick enough to only graze him. But at least you got his sunglasses. Wait, what’s with the surprise? Red eyes, brown skin? That means he’s an Ishvalan! Will we finally get some information about that backstory war? Nope, not this time it seems. Scar finally recognizes he’s outnumbered, and blasts a hole into the sewers to get away. Roy thanks Armstrong for buying them time to surround Scar, Armstrong remarks that it was all he could do to keep from getting killed. The perils of CQC against someone who can kill with a touch. Hughes, where were you in all this? What the heck, you were cowering? And what the heck are you doing, calling them a freak show pack of pseudo humans?! I thought you were cool, dude! Ed comes to it (again, he’s been dropping in and out of focus this entire episode hasn’t he?) and runs over to Al. The State Alchemists are looking on- Al, what the heck?! No need to punch Ed! I get that you’re upset that he didn’t run away, but he was trying to protect you! Gah, stop punching him! “Making the decision to die is something only an idiot does!” “Survival is the only way, Ed. Live on, learn more about alchemy. You could find a way to get our bodies back and help people like Nina… you can’t do that by dying! I won’t allow you to abandon the possibility of hope and choose a meaningless death!” Wow. That’s… “Oh, great! And now my arm’s come off because my brother’s a big, fat idiot!” Have I praised the writing of this show/manga lately? Because I should be doing that more often. That was pure gold, right there. Oh my Leto, did you just make a “falling apart” pun, Ed? Hughes gripes that he’s stumbled into an extra-special kind of freak show. Give it up Hughes, we know you love them. And the State Alchemists are agreeing to not pass on Al’s state. Daw, you guys are the best! Well, Scar’s made his escape. But now they know he’s Ishvalan, and the Elrics are still alive. Things are ok. Oh, information on the Ishvalans, finally! Roy’s saying that the Ishvalans were a race of people who lived to the east, believing their god Ishvala was the one, absolute creator. So that’s who Scar prays to, not Leto? Map of the area, give me a sec. Looks like our character’s country is a rough circle, split into five areas (north, south, east, west, central), country named Drachma (isn’t that an ancient Greek coin?) to the north-west, another named Creta (like the island?) to the south-west, and along the eastern border is a Desert Area. Ishval was annexed to the country, giving me another concern about the government our protagonists work for. Then, thirteen years ago… *picture of a small bloody hand by a teddy bear* A military officer accidentally shot and killed an Ishvalan child, sparking a civil war. Shot of military police shooting as an Ishvalan man armed with a knife yells, the map shows the conflict covering the entire eastern sector. That led to military high-command… ordering the extermination of Ishval. Wow. Ok, um. I gathered that the government was a bit overbearing, but… did Fuhrer Bradley really order a genocide? We’ve got a shot of State Alchemists marching, I recognize the late Grand in the center. And is that a younger Armstrong marching in front of him, sans mustache? He’s got that tiny sprig of blond hair and is built like a tank, so I’m assuming that’s him. Marching next to him is a much skinnier black-haired guy with two bangs in front of his face, smirking. Yyyep, I’mma say that I don’t trust anyone who smiles while committing genocide. Camera pans down to three more Alchemists, I recognize Roy and Mr. Freeze but have no clue who this dwarf with a mohawk is. Manga character? Now it’s shots of Alchemists using their powers, Grand throwing out chains and Mr. Smiles apparently blowing up a crowd of screaming Ishvalans. Charming. Roy also snaps his fingers at a village. “Needless to say, the State Alchemists produced striking results.” Roy recognizes that in a sense, as an Ishvalan survivor Scar’s revenge is justified. Ed disagrees, saying that Scar’s attacking people who had nothing to do with it. Regardless, Scar’s trying to kill our characters, so next time there won’t be any talk. And no forgetting how your powers work, either! Roy. So, what’s the plan for the Elrics? They’re gonna keep moving, and before they progress with fixing their bodies they have to get their busted parts back to normal. Time to visit the mechanic. Hey, Winry! Guess we’ll see you next episode, then! “In order to repair their injured bodies, Ed and Al set off for their former home in Resembool, where they are met by their mechanics Winry and Pinako. On the way there they happen across-” Hold everything! Is that Armstrong I see in these shots? It is! We get an episode of Armstrong traveling with the Elrics! Yes! “-they happen across a doctor with a troubled past who may have clues to offer in the brother’s search for the Philosopher’s Stone. Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” Episode Six: “Road of Hope” “What would young Ed discover, and how many questions will still remain to be answered?” Hey, you showed a picture of the Elric family with the father’s face covered. Rude. Pretty sure it’s the blonde bearded guy in the intro, but half expecting a twist like Scar being their actual dad. Who knows given this show.

#where my twin watches #wmtw #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 5

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