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djarrex · 3 years

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Countermeasures || 3

Anomaly

Fives x ofc!reader

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Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 5.7k

chapter summary: Agreeing to help Fives proves to be both good and bad.

warnings: canon character death, a sprinkle of fluff (Fives can be soft but we all know he’s quite the opposite in the right contexts 😉), a dash of sexual tension, a dollop of groping, tons of inappropriate thoughts - lordy lord get some cold water splashed on them

note: I broke away from including Fives’ POV in this chapter. It may come back in the future, idk yet. This is the first real series I’ve written and I’m extremely grateful for the pals I’ve met on here who reblog and like my work <3 Tbh I’m having a ton of fun writing this because not only does it give me an excuse to watch the conspiracy arc a bunch of times for the details but I also get to write about Renna and Fives and I love them both and I just want them to fuck already.

***

This was crazy. How did you of all people end up in a situation such as this.

By “this”, you were referring to the strong embrace you were trapped in - the ARC trooper you’re shamefully crushing on being the captor.

No, you definitely were not complaining.

After agreeing to help him, Fives you pulled into his body, his strong arms finding their way around your back holding you steady. Large palms nearly covered the expanse of your back, the heat from his skin burning holes right through your outer layers and into your flesh. Your face was practically smushed into his broad chest, your arms dangling awkwardly at your sides. The weight of Fives’ chin was pressing into your scalp. So many thoughts were swimming in your head as Fives held you as tight as he could without hurting you.

He was... hugging you. To be completely honest, you thought the two of you would fuck - or at least do something along those lines - before he hugged you. It was the energy he possessed that led you to that conclusion, but you were proven wrong.

You didn’t fight it - you knew how much it meant to him. These clones - these soldiers - were covered in plastoid from head to toe all day every day throughout their unfortunately short lives, and you figured they must be at least somewhat touch-starved. The way Fives held you was different than you thought he was capable of. You weren’t naïve; you knew the clones took off their armor at certain points, and hey, you knew that they even would have sex in their short spurts of time off. You read reports on clones who had contracted STD’s from their adventurous endeavors and were sent here to be treated. Even though they were created in a lab for the sole purpose of fighting in this ridiculous war, they were still men.

You wanted to keep up some at least some semblance of professionalism - to not touch Fives back, because quite honestly your body wanted more - but your heart started aching, and your body acted against your brain as your arms returned the embrace.

Fives was thick. The clones as a whole aren’t huge men; they aren’t fed nearly enough - that much you knew - and are relatively slim with a very low percentage of body fat compared to all the muscle they were designed to have. They’re not that much taller than you, either. However, you’ve never held a clone before. Fives’ back was like a bag of ropes; hard, thick, and you felt every single muscle so beautifully poking out of his skin even through the tunic. You allowed your hands to splay out over his back - to really feel him. You were completely lost in this moment, but you heard it - barely noticeable, but you heard it - Fives inhaled quietly through his nose, taking in your hair’s scent. You knew deep down that he didn’t mean for you to notice him smelling your hair, so you didn’t mention it. Butterflies flapped around in your stomach - then the butterflies quickly floated away and that feeling was exchanged with pure lust; the fire in your belly burning hot with desire.

You don’t know how long you held each other, but you needed to break away from him and get back to the matters at hand. You agreed to help him, and that’s what you’ll do. Maybe he’ll be so thankful for your help he’ll “hug” you again later.

“You do you have a plan, right, mister ARC trooper?” Breaking away from his embrace, you tried to shake your mind clear of any thoughts that didn’t include Tup.

“Of course I have a plan!” Fives’ tone suggested he was attempting to play off what had just happened, and it was cute. He walked over to the darkened window and kept his back turned to you. Perhaps he was trying to clear his thoughts as well. You wouldn’t know, but Fives was barely breathing in through his nose so that your scent lingered in his nostrils for as long as possible.

“Care to share?” You called to him, and Fives paused for a few moments before responding.

“Are you able to access all the equipment without the supervision of the long-necks?” He finally turned around, his brows raised. You blinked at him, just a little dumbfounded and slightly offended.

“Yes, Fives. Maker, I know how to work the kriffing equipment. I don’t need a babysitter.” You rolled your eyes then squinted them at him, crossing your arms to your chest with a huff.

“That’s not what I meant,” Fives chuckled as he approached you once again and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I meant, are you going to get in trouble if you’re working alone in there?” His gaze bore into you, making you feel slightly uneasy. Yeah, you knew how to work everything, of course. But this was all new territory for you; working - unauthorized – on a patient who wasn’t yours, performing an atomic brain scan unsupervised, breaking protocol…

“I- I’m not actually sure. I’ve never been explicitly told to not touch anything without them being there? I think it will be okay. It’s just that- that Dr. Nala Se said no to the scan. I don’t think she’ll like that I went behind her back and did it anyway. Although… I want to try everything in my power to save your friend.”

“Right. Then let’s get to it.”

“I’m sorry - let’s? You’re coming too? That doesn’t seem like a good-”

“It’ll be fine,” Fives quickly interjected. His confident tone faded with the next part: “Please. I want to be there - be there for Tup.” There they were again, those puppy dog eyes that get you every time. You doubt Fives even knows he’s doing it, but he had to catch on by now because you basically have never said no to him in the few short days you’ve known him. Your attraction to him made you break over and over again; this time was no different.

“Okay, fine. But you need to stay hidden.”

“I’m ‘Mr. ARC Trooper’, remember? I’ve been trained in the arts of being sneaky.” Wiggling his fingers and brows at you with a cheeky grin, you laughed and punched him in the shoulder. His grin only grew.

“Yeah whatever. Just follow me.”

You were the first to exit Fives’ room, peeking your head just outside the door to get a feel of the surrounding area. No guards in sight at the moment, so now was the perfect time to go.

“Quickly,” you stepped outside the room, motioning with your hand for Fives to follow. It didn’t take long to get next door, of course.

You pressed the controls on the panel and the door whisked opened; you shooed Fives in first. As soon as he entered, two guards came around the corner. You obviously didn’t want to look like you were doing something you weren’t supposed to, so you put on your best smile and nodded to the oncoming troopers. They nodded back and turned at the next corridor that led away from Tup’s room.

You stood there for a moment, just outside the room - thinking. You were obviously crazy, no doubt about that. You were breaking protocol, and basically risking your internship and everything you had worked for up to this point for Fives (and Tup). It was the right thing to do, right? Your insane crush on the ARC trooper aside, you were going through with all of this because it was the right thing to do. It definitely wasn’t right that the Kaminoans wanted to kill Tup off without entertaining more options and trying other procedures. It all seemed very… weird. As doctors, wouldn’t they want to try every possible way to find a solution without skipping over it all and just killing him? Although, why waste more time and resources when the “obvious” solution was to terminate him and find the answers through an autopsy? Maybe you should give it more time – Shaak Ti could be back soon with the Jedi Council’s backing. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out – to turn around and coax Fives back into his room before you were both caught.

The moment was over when Fives’ hand reached out to grab your wrist, unceremoniously pulling you into the room. You nearly tripped as he yanked you inside, a murmured “hey!” subconsciously rolled off your tongue at the rough pull.

“Sorry, Renna.” He shut the door behind you, giving you an apologetic smile. “Did- did I hurt you? Sometimes I forget my own strength... I’m not used to manhandling pretty and delicate things.” Okay, let’s push that comment aside and table it for later on when you’re alone in your quarters.

Fives reached out to examine your wrist but you flapped your hands at him, “Really, I’m okay. Seriously.” You weren’t lying - it didn’t hurt. If you told him the absolute truth, you would tell him how you wished he’d manhandle you in other ways.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Knowing how quickly you had to work for this entire plan to play out smoothly, you immediately made your way over to the controls and started tapping away. You turned your head to check on Fives – to see how he was planning on participating – and he was just frozen in place standing over Tup’s cot. Tup was still unconscious; his chest rising and falling rapidly in his comatose, shut eyelids flickering back and forth.

“Fives, push him over there.” You pointed at the scanner on the other side of the room with your back still turned as you tapped away at the screens, prepping the equipment. With one last tap of the screen, the scanner descended from the ceiling and Fives pushed Tup’s cot into it.

Tup’s chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, compelling you to consider - again - about turning back and aborting this plan altogether.

Fives came around the other side of the scanner where you watched the infrared picture of Tup’s brain from display screen, snapping you out of the thought.

“The scan’s almost complete.”

Fives moved in front of you and leaned closer to the screen, you shuffled to the side to give him to space. Your eyes unglued from the screen for just a moment to watch Fives; he was desperate. The look in his eyes told you that much, and his stance wasn’t as strong and sure as it always seemed to default to.

Your focus made way back to the screen. “Everything… appears to be normal.” Just as you said that the screen starting beeping; a red dot was blinking, pinpointing an anomaly in Tup’s brain.

“W- wait a second.” You softly pushed Fives out of the way and read the results displayed on the screen.

“What? What is it, Ren?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his little nickname for you, but there were more important things currently at hand. You can freak out about the way he says your name like that later.

“It looks like Tup has developed a tumor.” Your fingers started tapping away yet again. You’ve never seen a tumor in clones before. To be fair, you had never worked with clones like this before, but you’ve seen more than enough of their files to know that a tumor wasn’t exactly something that could just appear in a clone.

“A tumor? Is that even possible?”

“I’ve never seen anything like this in clones. Not in any of the files.” You ceased tapping, turning around to face Fives. His hand raked through his hair, a pure look of confusion and worry on his face.

“Then… what is it?”

“I honestly don’t know. I’ll need to do a biopsy to be sure.” With a nod, you offered a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay, Fives. We’ll get this straightened out, and you and Tup will be off this stormy planet and back to your brothers in no time.” You weren’t sure you even believed your words.

“You’re gonna take it out of him?” Before you could answer, Fives whacked the tools all over the ground with one graceless hand movement. Your eyes widened as he bent down to grab at the mess. “Do you, uh, think anyone heard that?”

You raised your brow at him, and with a sarcastic tone, “The probability is high, yes.” You sighed. “You need to hide.”

Smacking his hands away as he continued to pick up the mess, you hissed, “Fives, hide.”

“I think it came from this room.” You both shot up; you ran over and pushed Tup out of the tube and started to power it down at the controls as Fives took cover under Tup’s floating cot. Interesting that an ARC Trooper chose that as a hiding place.

The door whisked opened. Nala Se stood at the entrance, looking around. Her bug-eyes landed right on you, then glanced over to Tup.

“Hello, Doctor.” Your tone was astonishingly calm despite the absolute terror currently running through your system.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She entered through the threshold and made her way over to Tup, assessing his condition with a scowl.

“I was only trying to save the patient,” You informed her, keeping your tone calm and professional. You were ignored, however. Apparently, Fives was not so great at cleaning up his messes, because one leftover syringe sat on the ground right below the Kaminoan’s heels. She reached down to grab it, and your heart started racing. You blurted out, “Doctor, I found something unusual in the scan. It appears to be a tumor… I think you should take a look-”

“You performed a second scan without my authorization?” Nala Se stood upright; the forgotten syringe grasped in her three slender fingers. How did she not see Fives down there? Uh oh… where did he go?

Your heart rate slowed. “Apologies, Doctor. I was only trying to-”

“Perhaps I made the mistake in assuming you’d be ready to work with the clones.” Nala Se turned around to shut off the remaining equipment; machines began powering off as they whirled back in place and Tup’s cot moved back to where it was before you started. One of the larger machines floated away, leaving Fives completely exposed. Ah, so that’s where he went. Your eyes widened as you looked between Fives’ shocked expression and Nala Se, who was still turned around and tapping at the controls. As much as you dreaded pressing further on, you needed to buy Fives enough time to make an escape back to his own room.

“But- but the tumor, Doctor. It seems to be blocking neuro-impulses from communicating with the brain. I think we should scan the rest of the clones to see if this is a problem with their base genetic model or a mutation with the current models.” The machines were all now back in place; you scanned the room with your eyes, hoping to not catch a glimpse of Fives.

“There is no tumor. Your scan is incorrect.” Nala Se departed the control panel, ambling over to the other side of the room. You really hope Fives had fled by now. Might as well keep on pressing, though. It did interest you that the Kaminoan doctor was so avidly trying to disregard what you were saying about a tumor. That was a thread you figured you should follow.

“But-”

“This clone clearly has a virus that remains undetected, but I will find the cause once he’s terminated.” You followed Nala Se until she reached Tup’s cot, her back turned to the exit. “Now leave. I’ll figure out what to do with you later.”

“Yes, Doctor.” You turned on your heels and walked out the already open door. You turned your head to watch Nala Se; she was still standing over Tup, but you were unsure of what she was doing. Something really didn’t seem right with this. You nearly crashed into Fives in the hall as you departed Tup’s room.

“I can’t believe they’re going to kill Tup!” Fives shouted in disbelief after you both had made your way back into his room and shut the door. Fives shoved the empty cot to the other side of the room, clearly frustrated.

“I know. I’m sorry, Fives.” All you could offer was a sincere apology. It didn’t seem like a great idea at present to bring up how you thought the entire ordeal with Nala Se seemed fishy.

“We were not created to be disposed of this way!” He slammed his fists on the cot, an action that seemed to be fueled by rage, but his eyes told a different story.

“Just- just think of it this way… Tup is sacrificing himself so that other clones like him can survive. Isn’t that something you said he’d want?” You went to reach for him - to offer a gentle reassuring touch - but he backed away.

“There aren’t others like him!” His raised voice prompted you to take a few steps back. You weren’t scared of him, but you understood they he may need some space right now. Maybe it would be best if you retreated to your quarters and called it a day. After all, Nala Se basically sealed your fate by undoubtedly reassigning you to the archives. It probably wasn’t appropriate that you been seen in Fives’ room anymore. Your own selfishness kept you there, though.

“I’m sorry, Ren. I don’t mean to take this out on you, I just-” You allowed yourself to take a few steps towards him. “Tup doesn’t have to die - you found a tumor. I’m sure that’s the cause of all this. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“But… how can we proceed? Dr. Nala Se basically reassigned me to the archives. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be here with you anymore. I could get dismissed, sure, but I have no idea what would happen to you.”

“Do the biopsy. I’m sure what you find will prove Tup doesn’t have to die. Your findings would bump you up in the ‘ranks’ I’m sure, and they would have no reason to send you back to filing paperwork.” A beat. “As for me… I’ll be fine.” You both knew that was a lie. You’ve seen what the Kaminoans have done to “defective” clones. It’s all in the files. It’s inhumane. There was no way you’d let that happen to Fives.

“I’m not so sure…. Dr. Nala Se doesn’t believe-”

“We’re not going to Nala Se with whatever you find. We’ll go to General Shaak Ti. She helped me once as a cadet and I know she values the life of a clone.” Now that, that was the truth.

“Fives… I’d be disobeying direct orders.” At this point, you didn’t care what happened to you if you were to go through with this. Fives was who you were concerned with. Not because of a hopeless crush, but because of his status of patient and you sincerely cared about him.

“Yep, and for the second time today,” He jested. Not funny. You scoffed. “Ren…” There they are, yet again - the puppy dog eyes. Those, paired with how he said your name. You’d break for sure. “Will you help me? Please.”

***

“Hurry!” Fives was hunched over the control panel with you, basically micromanaging you even though he had no idea what it was you were doing.

“Fives, you’re going to have to not rush me. I’m not a droid. Give me a kriffing minute.” Your fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hitting button after button until -

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert. All nonessential personnel report to a safe room for lockdown.”

You stood up straight and grinned over at Fives, who looked a little shocked.

“What did you do?” The alert played over again on the intercom.

“I made it so that the security scanners picked up an intruder in section C-6. We need to hurry, though. I doubt it’ll take them long before they realize it’s a false alarm.”

“They taught you how to hack a security mainframe at the fancy medical academy you attended on Coruscant?”

You rolled your eyes at him, hands on your hips. “Is that really important right now?” Fives chuckled and shook his head. Grabbing his wrist, you stretched your head to look outside the door. “They have guards stationed just outside. How are we going to get over there?” You turned towards Fives, who was pulling away from you and looking up at the ceiling. You followed his gaze, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. “The vents?” You sounded a little shocked, but it really was the only safe way out of there. He tilted his head down to look at you, a smile on his face. You snorted.

“Here, I’ll climb up first and then pull you up.” Your looked over at the door again, making sure you weren’t about to get absolutely busted, and grabbed his dangling hands.

You shook your head with a smirk. “You know, I’m starting to wish I had stayed in the archives,” you jested, as Fives hoisted you up and into the vent with him.

You never realized just how creepy it was up in these vents. To be fair, there wasn’t one moment that you would’ve pictured yourself crawling through them, but here you were. It was dark, every movement you made echoed, and it was freezing cold. You – for some reason – were leading the way, crawling through the cold durasteel tunnel. Fives was silent; he wasn’t making any comments, not cracking any jokes, not even expressing his concern for Tup. It dawned on you: he was totally checking out your ass. You had shed your long lab coat before he pulled you up, knowing that it would be harder to crawl with it tugging under your knees. Fives hadn’t yet seen you without it on… and you knew how good your ass looked in the leggings you wore. With a slight chuckle to yourself, you stopped crawling for a moment and looked over your shoulder to glance at him to the best of your ability.

“Fives, are you staring at my ass?” You tried to not let your giddiness get in the way of your accusatory whispering, but you found yourself muffling laughter. He didn’t reply right away – probably trying to think up a comeback or a way to wiggle himself out of the subject.

“Fuck yeah I am,” he murmured back, sounding as cocky as ever. You bit your lip and shook your head, resuming the crawl towards the oncoming exit vent. “I don’t exactly have anything else to look at from back here, you know. I got quite a nice view, so, no complaints.” Your face heated up at his smug comment, resisting the urge to shake your ass for him – to really give him a good view. Now was not the time.

You crawled past the vent so Fives could hop down first; he plopped onto the floor, graceful and stealthy as ever, before standing directly under the vent with his arms held out.

“Common, I’ll catch you.” It really wasn’t a long way down; you’d land just fine, though probably not as gracefully as he did.

“Uh, okay…” You lowered your legs out from the ceiling, keeping your grip on the cool metal for a moment while you steadied yourself. “Fives, I think I got it. I can just hop down like th-” Your grip from the ceiling slipped, sending you down and nearly hitting the floor in the worst way possible, when strong arms found their way under your ass and back.

Fives just saved you from breaking a bone or two, and all you could do was blink up at him as his hand slightly squeezed the plushy part of your ass, the other hand gripped tightly on your waist. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t notice the way he was savoring holding you like that, but you did. And you liked it.

“Nice to look at and feels nice, too.” Fives grinned at you before setting you down on your feet. He definitely shouldn’t be talking about how your ass looks and feels right now with his friend lying nearly dead on the cot barely an arm’s length away - but, is he was open to making comments such as those during these unsure times, you’d reciprocate. A boost of confidence surged through you.

“Glad you like it, trooper. Maybe some time you can see and feel it without these in the way,” you pulled at your leggings, looking him straight in the eyes with a smirk. Seeing Fives’ expression was well worth making the comment.

“Don’t say things you can’t follow up on, Renna.” His shocked expression quickly flipped to dark, catching you completely off guard and making you gulp. Your entire body felt as if it was on fire as tiny fireworks danced in your gut. There was absolutely no way you’d be able to follow up on your innuendo-filled comment unless you found each other in another life under different circumstances. You needed to shake it out of your system.

Firing up the laser drill, you looked over at Fives and studied his worried expression. He looked so soft, so concerned – it tugged at your heart harder than you cared to admit. His focus remained on Tup until the sound of the drill made him look up.

Your hands were slightly shaking. You felt it, but it didn’t appear to be noticeable. You had never performed a biopsy on a real, living, breathing lifeform before. Everything you had done during your schooling was on the deceased or on medical dummies. You were nervous, but this wasn’t about you. You finally had the chance to save a life. You needed to pull it together.

“Renna, are you okay?” Fives’ voice nearly came out as a whisper. You looked up at his eyes; he was studying you, deeply.

You took a deep breath and nodded with a slow exhale. You turned your attention back to the drill, grabbing Tup’s head and positioning it to where you needed.

“You might want to look away at this part.”

***

You did it. A successful biopsy. Feeling a bead of sweat threatening to fall from your hairline, you wiped it away with your arm and looked up at Fives who still had his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is it done?” The absent sound of the drill encouraged him to open his eyes. You held up the tumor, encased in a transparent casing. You handed it to Fives; he studied it closely, bringing it up to his face with a sigh. The moment was over when the door whisked open.

“What have you done?” Dr. Nala Se came into the room; Fives didn’t appear frightened, but you sure as fuck were.

“We saved my friend’s life.” Fives whipped around to face the “long-neck” - as he calls them - holding up the tumor in an accusing manner towards her, “This tumor is the cause of his illness.” She reached out and tried to grab the encased organic matter, but Fives maintained a hard grip as they fought for it.

“Give me that!” Nala Se looked angrier than you had ever seen her. You ran up to them, trying to stop something before it started.

“You can’t be trusted.” Fives reached down to Tup’s cot with his free hand, grabbing a mysterious syringe, and held it up in a threatening manner. You reached your hands up to stop him, but Shaak Ti’s sudden arrival did the job for you.

“Stand down, trooper.” She stood at the doorway with her hand outstretched. Jedi didn’t need to hold a weapon; you knew what they could do with just one outstretched hand in the blink of an eye. You’ve never seen it in action, but you’ve heard stories.

Fives dropped the hand holding the syringe but kept hold of the tumor with his other. “I have evidence. It’s right here!” He sounded desperate. This looked way too bad. You were caught right in the middle of it all, too.

“I’m free…” A weak voice croaked from the cot, making all the heads in the room turn in the same direction. Tup. Fives let go of the tumor and whipped his body around to face his friend, crouching down next to Tup and leaned in close.

“Tup?”

“The mission… free.”

“What is he saying?” Shaak Ti entered through the threshold, a few guards flowing in from behind her with their blasters aimed at Fives.

“Brother, what mission?” It was apparent that Fives was trying to understand what was coming from Tup’s mouth, and could not care less that his own kind were holding weapons to him. It had been the first time anyone had heard Tup speak words that didn’t sound like “kill” and “Jedi” since his arrival.

“You… you know the one. The- the mission, the one in our dreams…” Fives’ wide eyes scanned over his friend, searching for a clue, for anything. “…that never ends.”

You were frozen in your spot, taking in Tup’s bewildering words. You watched Fives’ expression as he frantically tried to decipher what Tup was murmuring. You glanced up from them, seeing the guards' buckets turn to look back and forth at each other. The mission - the one from their dreams?

“Oh, brother…” Tup’s hand lifted to the best of its ability; Fives grabbed it with his own and squeezed. This moment was so raw, so emotional, so real. You never would have thought…

“This is the end. Forget the mission.” Tup was fading away. You could hear it in his voice, and you knew that Fives knew what was coming. It looked as though Fives was holding back tears – trying to keep his composure. “Oh, the nightmare. I’m… free.” With that, Tup was gone.

You scanned the room. Shaak Ti bowed her head, hand over her heart. The other clones lowered their weapons down to their sides, heads bowing. Nala Se, however, remined the same. Her expression never changed. Heartless Kaminoans.

Fives was shaking his friend’s body, begging him to come back. “I thought I saved him…” You didn’t know what to do now. Tup was gone, and it was your fault. He was alive until you removed the tumor. Fives was in pain – mourning for his brother because of you. You took a few steps back, and leaned against the counter, your fingers combing through your scalp. Not only did you disobey direct orders twice today, but you also killed the very first lifeform you did a biopsy on, and to top that off, the patient you killed was important - a brother - to someone you deeply cared about.

***

Fives was placed under arrest just shorty after. Tup’s body wasn’t even cold yet.

You stood there in silence; Fives locked eyes with yours as he was almost forcefully escorted out of the room by the surrounding guards. It was clear that both of you were trying to communicate with the other using only your eyes, but no distinct message was coming across. You wanted to tell him you were so sorry for everything, and that you’d miss him, that you’d never forget him and Tup, and that meeting him changed your view of the clones entirely. But, there were no final goodbyes, no condolences given. Fives would be taken away, and you would be dismissed. You’ll miss Fives with all your heart, but you won’t miss Kamino.

General Shaak Ti followed behind the guards, leaving you in the macabre room with Dr. Nala Se and Tup’s lifeless body. It was silent for a moment before Nala Se looked over to you, shaking her head in disbelief. You were in big trouble.

“Miss Renna,” the long-neck approached slowly, closing the gap between where you were hunched forward over the counter resting on your elbows and where she was covering Tup’s body with a sheet. “I can not condone this type of behavior from an intern. I have no choice but to reassign you to your previous duties in the archives indefinitely.” You were not at all surprised. You nodded slowly, still not looking up at her. You felt numb. Only three days into real field experience, and you fucked up royally. You didn’t need to help Fives, resulting you in ending up in whatever this is. It was interesting that you weren’t dismissed like you’d assume you would be – just reassigned. The thing with Dr. Nala Se acting weird when Tup’s tumor came into play still was on the front of your mind; perhaps you would be able to look into these matters during your long, boring hours in the archives.

Finally looking up at Nala Se, “What… what is going to happen to my patient?” The words nearly came out choked as you tried to hide your worry for Fives. You needed to keep up the front – the professionality of it – so no suspicion would arise. She was scrolling through a datapad, clutching the tumor in her three fingers. The tumor. You tried to study it from afar - what it looked like, the coloring, how the cells neighbored inside it. It looked... dead. Depleted. You snapped your eyes away and over at the dead trooper, whose body was now completely covered by a thin sheet, when Nala Se spoke again.

“Do not worry about ARC-5555. It will be taken care of, so we can put this matter behind us. Just be thankful I didn’t dismiss you, Miss Renna. You are too valuable to replace with some other eager intern.”

Valuable? ‘It’? Taken care of?

“I am thankful, Doctor. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You were motioned to exit the room; as you walked by Nala Se, you caught one last glance at the tumor, attempting to burn the image of it in your brain and commit it to memory. There was something about the tumor – something that prompted strange behavior from the Kaminoans – and you needed to figure out what that something was.

***

tags: @bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @cyaniderainfall

#djarrex writes #countermeasures series #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x oc #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives smut #fives x you #fives x reader #fives x oc #fives smut #the clone wars fic #the clone wars smut #the clone wars #conspiracy arc #the clone wars conspiracy arc

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drawlfoy · 4 years

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Mirror, Mirror Finale P.2

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x ravenclaw reader

request: yes very highly requested lol

summary: despite never speaking before, y/n has a big crush on draco malfoy, a particularly broody and obnoxious slytherin. what will happen when they finally have to start associating? and what if they run into a certain mirror that shows you what you truly desire?

warnings: cursing!

a/n: so ik i said this was gonna be out later this week but i love you guys too much! here it is...the final part of mirror, mirror! it’s weird to finally finish a series like this but ohhhh boy here we are

taglist: @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @mey-rapp @kaibie @blackpinkdolan @the-wiener-soldierrrrr @sugarbby99 @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop

word count: 2.1k

“About time you got off your arse.”

“Hello to you too, Rena,” Y/N sighed as she dropped her satchel on her bed. Her roommate watched, bemused, as she began to unpack her things.

“How are you?” she asked, her voice noticeably softer. “I really missed you. We were all worried sick, you know.”

Y/N snorted, tossing her wrinkled robes on the bed and making a mental note to spell them neat later. “I do know. Madame Pomfrey was going to kill me for how many times she had to tell you to leave me and let me rest.”

Rena’s eyes sparkled.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Y/N. “I missed you too.”

The two sat in silence for a bit as the cold afternoon breeze wafted into their room, carrying the smell of fresh snow in.

“So, anything exciting happen? Did anyone tell you anything….interesting?”

“No.” Y/N was about to turn back to her work before she caught the mischievous expression on Rena’s face. “What? Why?”

“Nothing,” she sang. “I’m just wondering. I have to catch up with my best friend, you know. It’s been forever.”

“It’s been the whole of four days.”

“It’s been forever,” she restated, jumping up and spinning Y/N around (who couldn’t help but allow a slow grin to spread across her face).

“I was going crazy in there.” Y/N’s voice was considerably more serious. “I never told you, but--” she chose to ignore the look of anticipation written all over Rena’s face, “--Malfoy talked to me. And he was so nice to me, it was we--”

“That COWARD!”

The outburst started Y/N, who dropped her things on the floor in shock. “I’m sorry? Rena, what happened?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Rena, her tone dutiful and mournful. “It’s not my place. Anyways, what did that loser do?”

“Er,” began Y/N, “I don’t know how much of it was real or if it was because I was on pain potion, but he and I--I don’t know, flirted? There was a lot of banter, and before he knew it he pulled me off the ground--”

“You were on the ground?”

“--he pulled me off the ground and picked the gravel out of my palms.” Y/N swallowed as she recounted the instance. She’d never seen him look so soft before. “He said he had something he wanted to tell me, and his voice got all strange.”

“And then?”

“And then Madame Pomfrey came to yell at me and basically--oh god, Rena, she basically told him that I dreamt of him!”

Rena snorted with laughter. “Shit, dude. I don’t think you should worry, though. You’d think any bloke with half a brain would’ve figured out that you were obsessed with him by now.”

“Shut up.” Y/N’s face was hot. “Anyways, I haven’t seen him since. I’d prefer if we could stop talking about this.”

“Sure, sure.” She took in a breath. “Wait, what about rounds? Don’t you still have to see him?”

“No. Flitwick told me I’m off. At least until next month.” If she sped through the thought, it didn’t hurt as much.

“Ending of a chapter, huh? How are you feeling about that?”

Y/N sighed. “Honestly, Rena, I love you, you know I do, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Okay? It’s over.”

If her words carried any deeper meaning to Rena, she didn’t show it. “Lighten up, girly. Maybe it’s not.”

“All I’ve done is make a fool of myself,” lamented Y/N, throwing her empty satchel in the closet and collapsing onto her bed. “I’m just going to go back to what everything was before. This hasn’t changed anything. Now, Rena, I have a Potions exam to study for.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

Her interactions with Draco were few and far between in the following weeks. Sometimes she caught a few glimpses of a pale blonde head of hair as she walked down the halls to her classes, but nothing concrete, nothing even close to the amount of interaction they had while she was still bound to her rounds.

It was certainly a punch in the gut--after all, she did spend a good portion of her academic career thirsting over him--but the sensible part of her knew that this was for the better. Her schoolwork became her top priority again, just like it had been the years before she was assigned to be his partner.

So, given this pattern of communication, it was fair to say that Y/N was completely and utterly flabbergasted when she saw Draco waiting by the entry of her common room at 11pm one night.

“Can I help you?” she asked as she shifted the books in her satchel to be secured over her shoulder.

“Yes, actually,” he said smoothly, not tripping over his words in the slightest. “I have rounds tonight.”

“I’m aware.” She hoped that he couldn’t hear her heart pounding the way that it was.

“And I’m out of Wide-eye potion.”

“That really sucks,” Y/N said as she held up her hand on the door of the common room, uttering the riddle’s answer under her breath before she stepped in.

“Wait!” His voice turned her around--it was pleading, almost desperate. “I have an exam tomorrow. No one in Slytherin has any. Snape would kick my arse for waking him up now. I know you have some left over since you never finished the rounds, and I--I understand if you don’t want to but it doesn’t have a very good shelf life anyways and I was hoping you’d...that you’d be alright with giving it to me.”

She paused, completely stunned. The most hopeful part of her wondered if he had made this up, but she squelched this with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of her. “Fine. Come with me, you must be freezing outside.”

Y/N wasn’t wrong--the weather had taken a turn in the past few days to be bitterly cold--but it wasn’t like she’d object seeing him for any longer. She mentally cursed herself for being so weak-willed.

Draco looked pleasantly surprised at the suggestion and stepped into the common room with her, following her up until she reached the base of the stairs. “I’ll wait here.”

“If you’re comfortable,” she began, “I’d honestly prefer if you came with me. I don’t want to explain to anyone why I let you into our common room unsupervised.”

He looked like his mind was buffering the information for a second, standing with a glazed look in his eyes before he sucked in a breath and became the picture of confidence once again. “Want me in your room that bad?”

Yes.

“You wish.”

He scoffed as they climbed the stairs, Y/N a few steps above him. She thought that if she maintained the space he wouldn’t see how hard she was shaking and wondered where Rena was. Studying with Hermione like she told her she was? She hoped.

Y/N stopped in front of her door at the very end of the hall, decorated with a banner that had their names displayed in glittering bronze letters that moved in the light. “Ok. You can come in with me if you want--it might be a couple minutes since I don’t quite remember where it is.”

He looked amused with himself as she got out her wand and attempted to unlock her door with the specialized charm she and Rena had decided upon. Mortifyingly enough, her hand was too shaky to execute it.

“Hey, hey,” Draco tutted, holding his hand out. It enveloped hers and held her wand still as she muttered the incantation, unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Er...thanks,” she said. His hand was still over hers.

Y/N broke the eye contact to dart through the door to a thankfully dark and empty room--if Rena had seen that, she never would’ve let her hear the end of that--and began rifling through her drawers as Draco shut the door and examined her room.

“You’re flustered,” he noted as she tipped over one of her candlesticks and just barely managed to catch it. “Is everything okay? Trouble in paradise, little Ravenclaw?”

“Like you care.” Y/N shut the desk drawer with an audible BANG. “And don’t call me that. Rowena Ravenclaw is rolling in her grave hearing you infantilize her good name like that.”

Draco laughed from his stance by her door--a sound that she hated to admit that she really missed. “I take back what I said. You certainly sound like yourself.”

Y/N’s fingers finally closed around the last bottle of Wide-Eye, which was quickly tossed to Draco. “Happy now?”

He sent her a strangely weak smile as he slipped the vial into his pocket, no doubt silk lined and expensive. “Sure. So this is goodbye? Actually?”

“I think...I think so.”

Y/N had moved closer to him so only about a foot stood between them, a distance that felt like a mile from where she stood.

This is goodbye.

Draco was making a motion to turn around and open the door when Y/N experienced the most severe lapse of judgement in the entirety of her 17 years.

She sprung forward, her fingers curling around the satiny soft fabric of his tie and pulling. Her motion was rough enough that he jolted forward, his eyes wide with surprise as Y/N closed in and pressed her lips to his in a very chaste and ungraceful movement.

The split second that it took for her to realize the consequences of her actions was enough for her to let go completely and jump away, apologies readily falling out of her mouth in disjointed and clumsy collections.

“I’m so sorry...Oh my god...I have no idea what got into me...Draco, I--”

Before she could finish, his hands were already cupping her face, his frame bent down the slightest so he could be more level with her. And he was--oh--he was kissing her, actually properly this time, without the tense closed-offness of her first attempt.

When Y/N imagined what it was like to kiss Draco Malfoy, she didn’t imagine him to be so soft. Or warm. Or gentle, or pliant, or whatever other good things he was to her as he snaked her arms around her and held her tight to him.

His kisses turned feverish, almost desperate as he turned her so she was pressed up between him and the wall. Everywhere his hands touched felt charged with electricity and energy, and as his hands traveled up and down her spine she decided that this must be what it’s like to die of happiness.

“Draco,” she managed in between kisses, pulling away for air for just a moment and sliding back down so her feet touched the floor again. “Can we talk? About this?”

“Thanks,” he responded, his eyes glittering with endearment. “I almost forgot you were a Ravenclaw.”

“Shut up.”

He grinned but made no effort to step away from her, instead choosing to drag his fingers up and down the side of her exposed neck. “What’s there to talk about? I like you, you like me, there’s nothing we need to do to complicate this further.”

“You...you what?”

“Yes, genius, what else did you think I was planning on telling you that day in the courtyard,” Draco said. “I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were over me. That was horribly embarrassing, you know. Had to nurse my ego for weeks before I could garner up the courage to speak to you again.” He stopped to gently press the pad of his thumb into the little dimple she had in her left cheek, smiling uncontrollably as he moved his hand back to cup her face.

“How was I supposed to know that?” argued Y/N.

“Isn’t this supposed to be the smart house?” he teased.

She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t make me decide I don’t like you anymore.”

“Oh, so you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you like me?”

“I’m going to scream.”

“Just from kissing me? Wow, I must be good.”

“I mean it!”

“So do I!”

Y/N gazed up at the boy in front of her for a few beats, admiring how the moonlight bounced off the silvery strands of his hair and how his smile reached every corner of his face.

“I take back what I said,” she told him.

“Oh, and what is that?”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

He smiled again, leaning in close so his lips barely brushed her ear. “No. No, it isn’t.”

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #dracotok #draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x you

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arthurtristankingsmen · 4 years

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Day 10: Mistake

“Arthur.”

“I know.” He lamented, tears in his eyes.

“She was in the room, alone. Unsupervised.”

“I know.” Arthur hiccupped, looking away from Lewis as he jammed another spoon of ice cream into his mouth.

“So why on earth did you trust Cayenne didn’t mess with your drink?” Lewis’s face was the epitome of incredulous, even with that bemused smile, and his arms tightened, nigh imperceptible except to his Lewis trained eyes. He was holding back laughing at him, which was one kindness he could offer in his time of torment.

“It was a mistake.” He whined, and Lewis had to cover his mouth to keep a laugh down. “I didn’t think she would be alone long enough to do the thing.”

“Arthur...” Now Lewis did laugh, but he kept it to a chuckle, and even managed a sympathetic smile when Arthur sniffled and looked at him, cheeks pouched out with vanilla bean. “Cayenne is an adorable agent of chaos. Even ten seconds is too long. Trust me, I babysit her and I know how fast she can move when she’s motivated.”

I didn’t think she had the time.” Arthur rubbed at his face. He flinched at first, remembering how it’d burned his eyes the first time he had, but now they smelled like Lewis’s lemon pomegranate soap, and were capsacin and lava free.

Lewis made a further noise of concern, and crouched by him with a tissue he took from a box on the counter, blotting at Arthur’s cheeks with gentle dabs. The soft touch made them turn red from something other than his currently on fire tongue and he swallowed. Arthur nodded a small thank-you when Lewis placed it in his hand, glancing up at him with blurry vision and blowing his nose.

“To be fair, I think cayenne always has peppers on her.” He offered. “So you couldn’t have realized. She keeps them in the holsters on her belt.”

Arthur snort-laughed, before making a noise of regret as his sinuses burned. “Eughg-- Of course. That sounds about right. She’s gotta-- bleh-- she’s gotta be prepared for any opportunity for milkshake spiking.”

Lewis grinned even if concern kept it tempered. “Exactly. Or she just wants to eat them. They’re a great snack.”

“Your family is weird. And apparently immune to disintegration via fire-fruit that has no right to be called a fruit.” Arthur sniffled, and that got Lewis to laugh.

“Well, we are named the Peppers for a reason, aren’t we?” Lewis teased, and then started with another shorter laugh when his cheek was poked with the cold back of Arthur’s spoon.

“Terrible.”

“Just for that, I’m taking my ice cream back.”

Arthur bowed forward, hugging the carton to his chest. “Noooo forgive me. I’ll perish if you do that. It’s the only thing keeping my firey death at bay.” He spoke in the most dramatic, pained voice, and his head tilted up so his teary eyes could critical hit Lewis right in his kokoro. Lewis laughed and held up his hand in defeat.

“Fine, fine. You can have it. But you owe me more ice cream later.”

“I’ll get you the triple chocolate brownie chunk.” Arthur made a little cross over his chest, and grinned when Lewis’s eyes lit up.

“Deal.” Lewis beamed. “Did you learn anything from this, at least?”

Arthur nodded like he had a solemn piece of news to impart. “When leaving a room with a milkshake and a Cayenne in it, take at least one of those things with me, to ensure the safety of me and my digestive tract.”

Lewis cracked again, and his grin was worth it. “You know what? That sounds close enough to a wise decision.”

“Smart-adjacent?”

“Exactly. At least it’d work. So I think that counts as a good idea.”

“Aw fuuuu-” Arthur seemed to remember where he was, sitting in Lewis’s house with potential Smaller Beings That Should Avoid Cursing Regularly abound, and continued to drag out the word. “-uuuuuuuuhhhhheck yeah-!”

“Smooth--”

“--Shut up.” Arthur elbowed him playfully. “But hey. I think my singular brain cell deserves a gold star for coming up with one whole preventative measure like that.”

Lewis chuckled. “Alright. Same day you get me that triple chocolate ice cream, I’ll get you a star sticker or something as a thank you.”

Arthur tapped Lewis’s nose with his spoon, and laughed when Lewis did his best to let it stay hanging there. He was already feeling better. But that was what best friends were for.

“An acceptable tribute to my genius. You’ve got yourself a deal, big guy.”

#MysteryMarch2021 #mystery skulls animated #lewis pepper #arthur kingsmen #my original stuff #my original writing #something silly #pre-ghost #Cayenne Pepper mention #ficlet #drabble #just a silly thing jdjdjd

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corpsentry · 4 years

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ao3 mirror

fandom: age of calamity, botw rating: g starring: prince sidon and mipha note: spoilers for both games

"You know, Daruk’s my idol,” Yunobo says. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” Sidon says. He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands for long enough to look up blankly at him. "Mipha was my sister."

the age of calamity, side b.

The thing about time travel is, even if someone stands in front of you and tells you point-blank that there’s a way to bring your dead sister back to life, you’re probably not going to believe them.

“I don’t believe you,” says Sidon.

“Okay,” Teba says patiently, fluffing his feathers with an absent glide of his wing. “Try harder.”

Sidon stares at him. He tries harder, though he’s not sure what that entails and so doesn’t end up really doing anything. “I don’t get you.”

“Which part don’t you get?”

“I get to see Mipha again?”

Teba’s eyebrow twitches. “Let me put this as simply as I can, Prince,” he says, a little too loudly. The soldier stationed at the bottom of the staircase turns to look at them. “We’re going to go back to the point a hundred years ago at which the four champions were killed in their divine beasts. We’re going to save them. We’re going to make sure they defeat Ganon before he can send Hyrule into ruin. And then we’re going to leave.”

By now, they’ve caught everyone’s attention. It’s been a long time since a hundred years ago, but here in Zora’s Domain it still feels like the events of last Tuesday, to be recounted over salt tea and fish skewers, to be mourned over an empty coffin. Everyone’s staring at the big white bird with the angry eyebrows, a little curious, a little apprehensive. For what he’s worth, Teba is indifferent. This much will not faze him.

Sidon twiddles his thumbs behind his back, where Teba cannot see them and the guards at the bottom of the staircase can point and laugh all they want. To be honest, he heard nothing. His heart stopped when he heard ‘killed in their divine beasts’, at which point a watery monster punched its way into his skull and crushed his brain. The monster is nothing concrete, nothing crystal-clear, just what little Link has told him, bits and pieces of a history he was prevented from taking part in. It’s been several months since the kid dragged his beaten-up body halfway across Hyrule and kicked Ganon’s ass, though they’re still feeling the after-effects of that particular calamity today. Mipha’s statue still looms over their heads, a reminder of what it means to die alone and far away from home.

“So,” Sidon starts, hearing his voice echoing in his ears like metal slicing through air. “What you’re saying is, I get to see Mipha again.”

Teba looks like he wants to grab one of the guards’ spears and stab Sidon in the face, but for what he’s worth, he reigns it in. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He grins. “I’m in.”

He tried to fight a lynel when he was fifteen. The domain had been overrun with monsters who had arrived for the pre-party to Ganon’s return, including an outstanding number of wizzrobes, several moblins, and a tall, intimidating figure which spat electricity from its pink-tongued mouth and whose name he couldn’t recall. While his father, the king, and his sister, the princess, breezed through the area like a lightning strike, reclaiming keeps and stabbing moblins with silver teeth so their generals could forge a path ahead, Sidon reveled in the wonder of being left unsupervised at four a.m. in the morning. And then heard the familiar, haunting roar of a lynel. And then decided to go and say hi.

It was a mistake, of course. The lynel was so tall he couldn’t make out the gear on its back. Its face was all squished up, like a birthday cake that had been stepped on, and its horns were too big for its thick, blocky nose. This was funny for all of five seconds. Then the lynel extracted a bow from that unknowable space behind it and aimed the sharp end of an arrow at his face, and it became a problem.

“H-h-h-hi,” said Sidon, holding up his Kid Spear, which was strictly for Kid Use Only, and had the offensive capabilities of a stick.

“RHOOARHGHHGHH,” said the lynel.

He jabbed the Kid Spear at the lynel’s leg. The lynel spat at him, though probably unintentionally, as it seemed preoccupied with the arrow it was trying to send into his face. It was stuck. The big scary lynel’s bow was stuck.

Emboldened by the stupid scary lynel’s broken bow, Sidon decided to try again. “Please go away, Mr. Lynel,” he said in his best and most charming Kid Prince voice, twirling his Kid Spear like a sweet jellyfish skewer.

“RHOAHOARHAGHOGHHHH,” said the lynel, who sounded significantly angrier than before.

“I understand,” Sidon said politely, and then closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way he had been taught to since he was old enough to speak, the way every child in Hyrule knew that there was a place for them to go to after they left this world behind). He braced for impact, which he hoped would be of the violent sort, earth-shattering and brisk enough to break his bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. He was fifteen, not five. This was Ganon’s era. Every living creature in Hyrule knew this, the way their ancestors woke up and knew which direction the sun would rise from. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When your people die. When the knight emerges from the woods with the sacred sword in his hand, and saves you all.

But none came. When he opened his eyes, and he did so reluctantly, adrenalin coursing through his veins like thunder, the world was pitch black. In place of the cool blue moon was his sister, her ceremonial gear glittering darkly, the Lightscale Trident glowing like a star in her right hand.

“Holy shit,” whispered Sidon the kid. Mipha stabbed the lynel in the face.

She hugged him when it was all over and they had put the moblins and the wizzrobes and the electric moblin (so that’s what it was! Terrifying) back to sleep. Their father was upset, but he was frequently upset at Sidon and so it didn’t bother him as much as it could have. Sidon was not Mipha. It was all right if he got things wrong, as long as his sister never did. Coincidentally, the Hylian princess had been in the area at the time of the attack, accompanied by a knight with blue eyes and a Sheikah warrior who looked like she would throw a knife at a fish for sport. It was a good thing Mipha had been at home, and not visiting one of the other tribes or hunting for crabs near Lurelin. It was a good thing she had intervened when she had, lest the pre-party become the real thing.

“Thank you,” said the Hylian princess, trying her best to smooth her brow and failing. She looked anxious, though she had only come to pass on her father’s word, though the word that she had brought was victory.

Mipha smiled at her with a face full of sun. “It is my pleasure.”

He wishes the egg could talk. If the egg could talk then Teba would have less reason to talk, and if Teba talked less then Sidon would have less of a raging headache, which which would make him less of an asshole, which would make their discussions go much more smoothly than the janky, sputtering mess they’ve been all week.

“As I was saying,” says Teba, continuing whatever train of thought he picked up on their way up to Goron City and then dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. As he does this, Death Mountain spits a chunk of lava out of its steaming gaping top, which lands a few inches shy of his breastplate. He hops backwards without missing a beat and begins fanning himself with one wing.

Riju stops fiddling with the diamond circlet in her hands for long enough to give him a look of inquiry. “As you were saying?”

“I can’t wait to see Daruk.” Yunobo scratches his arm. It makes a sound like two large boulders grinding together. Riju drops the circlet.

“You’re only going to see him for a short while,” Teba comments over the sound of the egg blowing its top at Riju and Sidon plugging his ears with his fingers. “No point getting all worked up about it.”

“You’re just as worked up yourself,” Riju counters. Patricia barks. Teba flinches.

This is true. There are two things Teba won’t shut up about. In ascending order of importance, they are 1) when they should depart for the alternate timeline in which they will prevent their respective ancestors from getting their spirits trapped in giant mechanical monsters for a hundred years, and 2) how incredible Revali is. Because Revali was the most powerful Rito warrior that ever walked the land (or flew over it, or blasted bomb arrows at it, whatever). Revali singlehandedly invented an entire style of aerial combat which involves launching yourself into the air with an updraft that defies the laws of the universe and then setting your surroundings on fire. Revali killed god.

Teba looks like he wants to go back to his wife and kid in Rito village. Good for him. Not all of them have bodies to put in coffins. “I just want to meet him once,” he says quietly.

Yunobo laughs, and it sounds like two extra large boulders grinding together. “Me too, brother.” He picks up the diamond circlet from the floor and puts it on his head like some kind of weird hat. “I’m going to tell Daruk how great he is. And then I’m going to go home.”

One time when they were much, much younger, before he woke up one morning and Mipha was three times his height, one of the guards brought back some durians. The durians were misshapen and spiky and smelled intimidating, though Sidon wouldn’t go as far as to say that the smell was unpleasant. The guard had obtained them from a merchant in the Faron region. He hadn’t meant to purchase them, but they were the last of her stock and she said she could only head home once she had sold everything. He empathized her.

At first they tried to open the durians with their hands, but this only produced several pricked fingers and left ominous and eerily substantial bloodstains everywhere, so someone brought out a spear, almost drove it through the table, and someone else brought out a carving knife. Halfway through the spectacle of watching one of the guards, who was thirty-seven and enjoyed collecting glowing stones as a hobby, attempt to de-spike an entire durian, the crowd parted abrutpyl.

“What are you all doing?” Mipha put her hand absently on Sidon’s head. He had been watching the ongoing debacle out of some kind of morbid curiosity, standing on tip-toes so he could peek over the top of the table, though now he had apparently been relegated to armrest.

“Trying to open this durian, your highness.”

Mipha laughed. His sister’s laugh was a delicate, heartrending affair, like trying to pull weeds from the bottom of a lake without breaking them at the stem. The weather at home was always more or less divine, but whenever Mipha laughed, Sidon swore it blasted a hole right through the clouds. If there were no clouds, then the hole appeared in the fabric of the sky instead. Mipha, at her brightest, was a walking catastrophe of sun.

Still chuckling a little, like she’d been made privy to a secret that none of them knew about, Mipha stepped up to the cutting board. “You have to do it like this,” she said cheerfully, digging her fingers into a seam in the durian’s shell like she’d been dealing with danger all her life.

Cue gasping. Cue the horrors of childbirth.

The durian was sweet. It was also a little goopy, but Sidon was no stranger to things which stuck to your fingers and refused to let go (he was one of those objects when it came to his sister, who he could rarely be found more than an arm’s length away from on any given day), so he felt for the little spiky fruit, and decided that he would make an effort to bring some back home when he went traveling himself in the future. While he examined the inside of the durian’s shell, which had been hollowed of fruit and had the texture of rough sandpaper, the guards crowded around Mipha and demanded that she share her secret to not getting stabbed to death by the fierce and terrifying durian. But either she didn’t know how to explain it to them, or they weren’t very good at listening, because she remained the only one capable of cracking open a durian with her bare hands for many, many years, up until she died while fighting a watery manifestation of Ganon inside the divine beast she had been told by the king of Hyrule to pilot to victory’s end. Then it was someone else’s turn to take over.

Painkillers for fish are a tricky affair. To begin with, charmingly little research has been conducted into the biology of the fish-person because the Zoras simply aren’t interested in how their bodies work, and while others have offered to do so in their place, among them several enthusiastic Sheikah researchers and one Hylian with a thing for huge glowing orbs, his people have never cared enough to give their consent. It’s a unique kind of apathy, one which stems from a place of privilege, or denial. They are, as a general statement of fact, very good at both.

“This will help.” Yunobo hands him a rock roast. Where did Yunobo get a rock roast from? Sidon frowns. They’re in the middle of the desert.

“Thanks,” Sidon says. Smiles. Kind of, like, holds the roast up to his mouth and gives it a sniff. It doesn’t smell half as good as durian. He puts it down.

It takes him several days to make sense of the convoluted sequence of events that Teba presented to him that day on the front door of the world he had rebuilt from scratch, surrounded by mystique and glamor and promising, in a breath of cold air, to bring his dead sister back to life. This makes it sound like he’s finished making sense of it all and will thus never be confused ever again, but if he’s to be entirely honest, he still doesn’t get it. He wants to. He’s scared to. He won’t look Teba in the eye.

“We should get going soon, don’t you think?” says Riju, who is twelve and somehow more put-together than all four of them combined. She pulls another book from the shelf and leaves it on the pile on the desk.

Yunobo shrugs loudly. “Doesn’t make a difference when we leave, does it? We could leave for Hyrule in twenty years, and we’d still end up at the same place.”

“But I want to save them,” Riju says earnestly. The pile behind her has been growing all afternoon, and will soon overtake her in height if she is not stopped. Mission preparation looks like archaeological excavation when you’re traveling backwards in time, and not forwards to some yet unknown destination. Ancient Sheikah records. Research journals. The writings of people who were obsessed with the events of a hundred years ago despite having no personal investment to speak of, and whose words carry with them a hint of reverence, even as they choreograph the funeral song of the old king. This is all that’s left of those ruins, aside from Link, who they’ve all quietly decided to keep uninformed of the current proceedings. Hyrule itself has been kept in the dark. No need for them to know about the maybes and the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. No need for more people to go crazy.

Sidon shuts the book in his hands with a thud. “But why?”

Riju’s eyes go wide. Drama queen. “Why what?”

Sidon opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. There’s a heat rash on the back of his neck which he can’t quite reach on his own. The elders had warned him about the desert, but the charm he received from Link has proven to be effective in all areas except for maintaining good skincare. He blinks dumbly at Riju, who has begun to flicker like the glassy surface of a pond. His eyes hurt.

“I mean, why do you.” His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. There’s something large and horrible stuck in his chest, and he can’t get it out. “Why do you want to save them?” There’s a durian in his rib cage. It must have lodged itself there when Teba glared at him like he was an idiot as he came face to face with the cruel reality of the universe, and it dawned on him like a dead body falling out of the sky that he would get to see Mipha one last time, and then he would have to come back. To a Hyrule without her. To the stupid stuck-up world that had to try again and again and again, coughing up blood and dragging itself through the dirt on bruised knees, before it could defeat the monster. “It’s not like they’ll come back to life,” he says, each word a silver knife in his mouth. “They’ll stay dead here. They’re already dead.”

Silence.

Riju has let everything go, including the diamond circlet, the topaz earrings, and three volumes sheathed in gold. Yunobo’s mouth is open so wide, you could stick your head inside and take a look around if you leaned in close enough. For the first time since he met him, Teba is at a loss for words. His chest rises and falls erratically, his hand on the bookshelf quivering, his eyebrows doing a little dance on his forehead. He’s sweating. Of course he is. They’re in the desert.

Riju, Hylia bless her soul, is the first to speak.

“It’s the spirit of things,” she says softly. She looks sadder than any twelve-year-old should ever have to look. But then and again, Sidon was barely old enough to hold a spear with both hands when his sister died and everything went to shit. Then and again, everything goes away eventually.

Sidon stares at her helplessly for a moment, gulping the humid air of the library like a fish out of water, then gives up and walks out of the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon blowing bubbles in the pool beside Kara Kara Bazaar while the other three continue their work, and then buys a durian from one of the vendors and hacks it open with his spear. You can’t crack open a durian with your bare hands, unless you’re Mipha, in which case you can do anything. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s gone.

When they were children and they got into trouble, his father would always scold Mipha far more harshly than Sidon. Mipha was the older sibling, after all. She should know better. This dynamic remained firmly established between them even as Mipha grew into her role as princess, future ruler, and eventually, champion. Of course, the reprimandings grew less stern, but Sidon had a penchant for winding up in places he wasn’t supposed to be in and Mipha had a penchant for being with him whenever this happened. He secretly resolved to pay her back when he got older and was finally able to stand up to his father, and therefore explain that most of the things they got into trouble for were his idea. He would be the one to weep at his father’s feet while his sister looked on with a horrified expression, and in that moment she would understand how much he loved her.

Then she died. You can’t tell the story of Mipha without this part. Mipha was a humble, kind girl, and then she died. Mipha could crack open a durian with her bare hands, and then she died. Mipha was the pride of their people, and then she died, and she died, and she died.

You can’t change the past with the wave of a hand. You’re not a bird. You’re not a fortune-teller. You’re a fish-person with an empty coffin for a sister, and in a few weeks’ time, you’re going to save her specter.

“...What if I brought her back with me?”

“Huh?”

“Hahajustkidding. No way I’d do that. Not a chance.”

“Um. Do you need painkillers?”

“Thanks, but they don’t work on me. I’m over a hundred years old, you see. Us Zoras, we’re different.”

The day before departure. They’re back at Zora’s domain. It’s raining. Teba is running through a checklist of items to bring with them which is so long, he has to hold it above his head to prevent it from touching the floor. Riju is feeding Patricia mandarin peels.

“You know, Sidon.”

Sidon looks up from his mandarin. “Mm?”

Yunobo grins at him. “Daruk’s my idol,” he says proudly. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” says Sidon, as enthusiastically as he can, because he genuinely wants to be happy for Yunobo who is finally going to meet his idol and has clearly dreamed about this moment for some time. He wants to be happy for all of them. He fucking wants to. This is a rescue mission, not the imprisonment Princess Zelda walked into in Hyrule castle, not the hundred-year nap Link took on the Great Plateau. This is a happy ending, even if it’s not theirs.

Daruk the idol. Urbosa the warrior. Revali the bird. Sidon pictures them in his head, the way Link described them to him once, his voice carrying across the water like beams of light.

“Mipha was—”

He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands, his nails still embedded in the soft skin of it, the white-tinged flesh peeking out like a wound. Outside, the rain keeps falling. A river of tears from the sky.

Yunobo tilts his head to the side. “Mipha was?”

Mipha was the pride of their people. Mipha was the first person he wanted to live forever. Mipha was the only one he knew who could crack open a durian with her bare hands, like she was peeling open the heart of a monster, only to reveal that it had been something soft and scared all along. Mipha was a flesh-and-blood person. Mipha was the light of their world. Mipha is an empty coffin with a name inscribed on the lid, a house with the lights off, a memory drenched in ocean.

Yunobo prods his shoulder, though he barely feels a thing. “Mipha was?” he repeats kindly, herding him along to the end of the line, to the boat at the edge of the water.

Sidon puts the mandarin away. He stares long and hard at Yunobo, and hopes that his eyes will convey the wound his body no longer knows how to carry.

“Mipha was my sister.”

Let’s say you’ve been entrusted with the future of your kingdom. There’s a bad guy coming, and everyone’s scared to death, so you learn how to pilot this big robotic elephant which shoots turrets of water like a machine gun, and you get really good at it, and when the bad guy arrives on your new friend’s birthday suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You’re trapped inside the giant elephant. You’re bleeding out all over the floor. Your chest hurts like something awful, and your vision is beginning to blur. Sensing your despair, the monster closes in on you, wielding that big blue trident like fury. It holds the sky up over your head, and as it does so you close your eyes. You send a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way you have been taught to since you were old enough to hold your little brother in your arms, the way every child in Hyrule knows that there is a place for them to go to after they leave this world behind). You brace for impact, which you hope will be the gentle sort, a slap to the wrist that’s conclusive enough to break your bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. You’re twenty, not five. This is the end of all things as you know it. Every living creature in Hyrule knows this, the way their ancestors woke up one day and knew that this world would come to ruin. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When everyone you’ve ever loved dies. When you walk into the mouth of the elephant, and the elephant changes its mind, and decides to keep you in its belly forever.

None arrives. You open your eyes slowly, hesitantly, fear a living memory in your bones, but you are not faced with the stinging end of a trident. In its place is a boy almost three times your height, his eyes glittering darkly, the spear in his right hand shining like a star.

He is not your brother. But, Hylia bless you all, he is.

So what can you say, when the evil has been defeated and you are standing on the balcony of the castle, smiling up at him through tears while this big overgrown baby stares at you like you’re the answer to the universe, except:

We’ll definitely meet again, won’t we?

He flinches, but you don’t ask, and he doesn’t say why. He pulls you into an earth-shattering, bone-crushing hug. It’s a beautiful day to be alive, the sun shining like sin, Hyrule’s beaten but stubbornly breathing carcass laughing up at you from the fields below. He takes your hands in his. He’s shivering. He’s shaking from head to toe.

Of course, he says in the kindest, saddest voice you’ve ever heard, though he has only come to pass on someone else’s words, though the word he has brought is salvation. From now on, I’ll always be by your side.

: : : : :

You smile at him with a face full of stars.

117 notes · View notes

vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

alone (egd)

it’s not very often that you and ethan get the house to yourselves... and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it

word count: 8k (holy shit haha)

warnings/tags: smutty smutty smut lets goooo, christening the house hehe, ITS A WILD RIDE

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

It was almost like watching a scene in a sappy romance movie, but instead of the typical girl in the sundress with the handsome man, it was two handsome 6 foot tall men standing outside the airport, staring at each other uncomfortably.

“Just make sure you text me when you land. You got your charger and everything?”

“Yeah E, I’ve got it. I’m gonna miss my plane man, I gotta go,” Grayson said, but he wasn’t moving, obviously unsure of what exactly to do.

“Bye Gray, have fun and be safe,” you decided to step in, giving him a goodbye hug. He squeezed you back, swaying a little bit back and forth.

“Keep him alive and fed for me, will yah?” Gray teased, ruffling your hair like he always did before letting you go.

“I think I can manage that for four days,” you teased, stepping back. There was an odd awkwardness in the air - the twins weren’t very experienced in saying goodbye.

You stood to the side, watching them hug. It was a genuine one, with just a hint of unease in it - the boys hadn’t spent this much time away from each other since they did their one week without each other video.

When they were done, the two of you waved at Grayson until he was out of sight inside the terminal. And then you climbed back into the tesla, you in the passenger seat like usual.

And it was time for the real fun to begin.

Riding in the car with Ethan was one of your favorite little parts of your relationship. It was such a simple thing, to sit next to him in the passenger seat with the music playing. And his hand was always on you somehow - fingers intertwined, pressing kisses to the back of your hand. But it wasn’t often that you didn’t have Grayson in the back seat. This time was different.

As soon as he was merged back onto the highway, his hand was on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the bare skin left by your shorts. It was innocent enough to start, but his fingers trailed higher and higher with each mile he drove, and when you looked over he was chewing on his lip - one of his tells.

“Mind on the road,” you teased, but you opened your legs just barely anyways.

“Baby I drive a tesla. My mind can be anywhere,” he reminded you, a bit of his ego popping through.

“We’re five minutes from home,” you breathed as his hand moved further up, brushing over the zipper of your shorts. There was a nervous energy filling the car, and it reminded you of how you felt before you slept together for the first time. You felt giddy at the thought of having Ethan all to yourself, and the house empty except for the two of you, for four whole days.

“Wanna make sure you’re ready,” he said, voice low and gruff. It sent chills across every inch of your skin.

“Oh trust me, I am,” you sighed, squirming just barely as he rubbed over your skin. He knew exactly how to press your buttons and get you worked up in a matter of minutes.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing your thigh. He edged the speedometer up, wheels flying over payment in a desperate bid to get home even a few minutes earlier.

“Hey, we can’t fuck if you crash before we get home,” you reminded him, messing with your nails. When you looked over at him, his pupils were blown wide, incredulous. The easiest way to get him worked up was with your words, and you used it sparingly, knowing if you always said all the dirty things in your mind that it wouldn’t hold the same effect when you decided to use it. It was the only way you could even the playing field - Ethan could have you in a puddle with one touch.

He slowed down, but only a fraction, and you were itching to get home just as much as he was, maybe more. The gates at the end of the driveway felt like they took an eternity to open when Ethan punched in the code, and you had already undone your seatbelt before he even had smooth cat in park.

You both jumped out of the car, giddy like unsupervised teenagers. He took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he started towards the house. To your surprise, he didn’t open the door immediately. Instead, he turned to you, catching your hips with his hands.

“I have a proposition.”

“Oh do you now.”

“New house. All to ourselves for four days.”

“Mhmmm.” Not sure why we’re not acting on that right about now, you wanted to say, but you held your tongue.

“Christening.” The word hung in the night air for a moment, slowly disappearing into the song the crickets were making. Images flashed through your mind of all the furniture, the floor plan, the layout. Fuck.

“You bought a very large house, with a lot of rooms,” you started. His face fell just a fraction, and his lips parted as he started his rebuttal. You stopped him with a finger.

“We better get started.”

night one, 11pm, living room two

You’d never realized just how soft the purple sectional was; probably because this was the first time you were naked on it. Ethan had made quick work of everything you had on as he lead you in the door, past the small living room, through the kitchen and dining room, and into the small sunken living room two, as they called it.

“Odd first choice,” you mused, not really caring where you were. All you were worried about was the fact that Ethan was still fully clothed, which was wildly unfair in your opinion.

“Well, we’ve already done our room and bathroom, so no need for repeats. Not gonna do Grayson’s room or bathroom, cause that’s just weird. Figured we could work our way across the house. Living room two, dining room, kitchen, living room one. Come back and get the office, guest bathroom, laundry room.” He listed off the rooms like he was reading from the floor plan as he shed his shirt and started to work on his belt.

“You’ve really got this planned out huh. Been daydreaming about having sex with me all over the house?” The smirk on your face was playful, and he just laughed, shaking his head as he shoved his Louis V pants down his legs along with his boxer briefs and stepped out of them.

“I’m always thinking about having sex with you. Duh.” He crawled over top of you, coaxing you to lay down flat on the couch. One of your favorite things about sex with Ethan was that it was always versatile, and not just in positions. You’d had every mood of sex in the book - playful, funny, dirty, kinky, angry. You were so comfortable around each other it wasn’t even funny.

So you weren’t surprised in the slightest that he nudged your hip with his knee and muttered ‘scootch’ so he could get himself comfortable above you. And you also weren’t surprised when you both realized that there was no way in hell that this position was going to work in any way, shape or form on that narrow ass couch.

“Floor?” He asked.

“Floor,” you confirmed, following him as he rolled off you and onto his back on the rug. Now you were hovering over him, straddled over his abs. His hands found the back of your thighs, pushing lightly.

“Come up here,” he grinned, and you knew exactly what he was asking for. You maneuvered your way up until you were hovering above his face.

“Let the christening... begin,” he said in his most dramatic voice, smile wide on his face as his hands came up onto your thighs to pull you down closer to him.

“That’s the cheesiest shit you’ve eve- oh.”

“Mmmm, what was that?” He asked, pulled away from where he’d just been.

“Nothing! Nothing,” you squeaked, suddenly desperate for him to put his mouth back on you. He obliged, starting to work you over slowly. You shifted your weight onto your knees so you could get closer to him, hands going to his hair, which was finally getting just long enough for you to get a grip on.

It didn’t take long for him to set a rhythm with his tongue that has your hips grinding, thighs shaking just barely at the tension of you holding yourself at just the right height. He’s always been so damn good with his mouth, even since the first time you slept together.

But it wasn’t until you bit down on your fist as you came that you hear him groan, and he’s tapping on your thigh, signaling you to dismount. You climbed off, catching your breath and relaxing your muscles, coming down.

“What’d you bite your fist for?” He asked, sitting up and moving towards you like he had on the couch, coaxing you down onto your back again, his fingers ghosting over you.

“Didn’t do it on purpose.” You were still a bit breathless as he ducked down to kiss you.

“Well for once we don’t have to be quiet. Wanna hear you babe, while we can,” he said, more of a request than a demand. You nodded in response as he lifted up slightly, lining himself up. You let your legs fall open to the sides, giving him more room as he dipped down, grazing over your folds.

You let out the breath you’d been holding as he pushed in, moving slow and easy. He held himself up on his hands, which were splayed on the floor above your shoulders to hold you in place. You bit down on your lip, a force of habit.

He grunted above you, moving down to his forearms, rolling his hips as he shifted his weight to one side so he could bring a thumb up, guiding your lip out from under your teeth.

“What’d I just say,” he groaned, a hint of dominance creeping into his tone. You just nodded, overwhelmed as he continued to stretch you out.

“Fuck E,” you moaned, hands coming up onto the skin of his back, nails dragging down. A tiny part of your brain realized it felt weird to be so loud, but the pleasure took over that as you felt everything start to tighten, an overwhelming feeling that you’d become familiar with.

“God, I can feel that,” Ethan breathed, speeding up the roll of his hips, somehow getting even deeper than he already was. “Shit baby, you feel so good.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you whined, pulling him as close as you could, lifting your hips up just barely to meet him. The new angle was electric, just the tiny shift making all the difference, and suddenly your thighs were shaking and you could feel him release, filling you up before he collapsed on top of you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, rolling off you smoothly. You were only on your back for a second before his arm wrapped around your shoulder, rolling you over onto him.

“We’re gonna have to pace ourselves if we’re gonna make it through every room in the house,” you laughed, trying to catch your breath. He ran his fingers over your back, feather light over your spine.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna wear me out,” he laughed with you, reaching his other hand up to run through his hair.

“Your fault, you bought a big ass house,” you grinned, squishing your cheek against him, smiling when you heard the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

Eventually, he somehow mustered the energy to get the two of you to your feet and back towards your room, the unspoken agreement that you were done for the night.

“We should shower,” you mumbled.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Ethan answered, crawling onto the sheets.

“E! We’re gross!”

“Totally disgusting,” he agreed, curling up further into the bed. You thought for a moment about trying to drag him to the shower, but it was no use. If he didn’t wanna move, you couldn’t make him - you’d learned that lesson many times.

Instead, you gave in and crawled over to him, peppering kisses on his bare back. “You’re washing the sheets tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he sighed, twisting to wrap you up in his arms before you both fell asleep.

morning one, 9:42am, kitchen

As you did every morning, you headed into the kitchen alone. The wood was cold against your bare feet, sending goosebumps up your legs. You’d thrown on one of E’s shirts out of habit, but skipped the shorts when you remembered that the house was empty aside from a quietly snoring Ethan.

You made yourself a cup of coffee and turned on the speakers, just loud enough that they might wake Ethan up. The playlist that was just a massive dump of every song the three of you liked started to roll through, and you danced along to it, deciding to make a more complicated breakfast than normal. If there was one thing you could cook, it was breakfast.

The boys had started to branch out and find more vegan substitutes, so you were happy to find all the ingredients you needed to make vegan breakfast bagels - an egg substitute, vegan cheese, even veggie sausage that would work great. While everything cooked away, you cut up some fruit and sipped at your coffee, getting more and more into the music as it played, especially when your favorite Cudi song came on - the boys had gotten you hooked as soon as you moved in, said it was a ‘house rule’ that you stan Cudi.

Lost in your own little world as you scrambled the ‘eggs’, the poke to your hip made you squeal and almost drop the spatula. You turned and saw E, a goofy close lipped smile on his face.

“What’d you poke me for?” You grinned, getting up on your tiptoes to kiss him good morning. He answered by poking your cheek again, then squeezing it gently between his thumb and his index finger.

“Just makin’ sure you’re real, and that I’m not dreamin’,” he sighed, brushing some hair back from your face, proud of the blush he brought to your cheeks.

“You’re such a simp.” You turned back to the ‘eggs’, cutting off the burner, happy they were done so you could give him your full attention for a few minutes.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you countered. “Okay maybe not a simp, but definitely a sap. Over here poking me to make sure I’m not a dream,” you teased, but you loved every second of it.

“But you are a dream,” he said in his most dramatic voice, hands going to your waist to guide you away from the stove. With one swift move he spun you around and lifted you up so you were suddenly sitting on the island, now just a hair taller than him.

“I wake up to you, cooking a damn good vegan breakfast in my kitchen, with Cudi on the speakers, in my shirt-” he reached for the hem, moving it slightly up from where it sat on your thighs, obviously expecting shorts. He groaned when he didn’t find any.

Immediately, his hand was coming around to the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair as he pulled you down towards him, lips on yours. Usually his kisses were a bit lazy in the morning, but right now he was more than awake, and you could tell.

It wasn’t another minute before he was guiding you backwards and you were laying on the counter, cold marble setting all your nerve endings on fire as his fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down in one swift motion.

He pressed kisses to your thighs, morning scruff tickling your skin as he made his way up, coaxing your legs to open for him. It was on odd sensation being out in the open like this, but you didn’t have the energy to care once his mouth was on you.

“Fucking shit,” you groaned, the sensitivity left from last night elevating things immediately.

“All good?” He murmured, looking up to you for reassurance. He knew your body almost as well as you did by now, knew you’d be sensitive.

“Yeah, yeah keep going.” You were practically begging for it already and it had only been a few seconds. He started with long, flat tongue licks that he knew would have you squirming, even if he didn’t add a finger like he did.

“Jesus E, fuck,” you whimpered, fingers grasping at the smooth counter, desperate to find something to hold onto as he worked you over. He just hummed against you, satisfied that you were being vocal and adding to the sensation all at the same time.

His tongue moved up to your clit and you gasped, sitting up slightly and grabbing at his head, fingers trying to find purchase in his short hair. It didn’t faze him in the slightest and he continued his work, knowing you were close.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you squeaked, body tensing up and then relaxing all at once, causing you to collapse back onto the counter. You barely had enough left in you to make sure that your head didn’t hit the marble.

“Well, kitchen can get checked off,” he breathed, pressing kisses to your skin as you tried to settle back down. After a few moments he helped you sit up, leaving you to relax while he picked up where you left off with breakfast as if nothing had just happened. That was one of your favorite things about Ethan - he was a giver, through and through, and he never did anything to get something in return.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to repay the favor.

“You are getting the best head of your life later, so prepare yourself.” You tried to stay serious, but your voice was still a bit breathless as you came up beside him.

“Like I said. Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ girl,” he smiled, reaching a hand around to cup your ass and pull you up against his side as he continued to cook.

evening one, 6:33pm, the laundry room

You watched him put the blue liquid into the washer, filling up the little cap and putting it into the little container on the right side. You weren’t sure why, but watching Ethan do domestic shit was one of the hottest things to you.

“Did you just put fabric softener in with the sheets?”

“Of course I did,” he responded with a smirk.

“Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ guy.” You quoted him from earlier with a smug grin, moving from where you were watching in the doorway to right beside him. The washer started to hum, filling up with water as you spun him around so his back was against it.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at you in surprise - you weren’t usually the one to initiate things, not because you didn’t want to, but because Ethan usually beat you to the punch.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled on the waistband of his shorts and briefs, reaching down to find his cock, which was already rising to your attention.

“Laundry huh? That’s what does it for you?” Ethan said, trying to seem unaffected, but his breath was already catching in his throat. He always got very overwhelmed when you took care of him like this - he was so used to being the giver, sometimes he wasn’t exactly sure what to do as the receiver.

“Shhh, just relax. I told you to prepare for this, remember?” You teased, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him while you pushed his shorts and briefs down. They pooled around his feet and you followed them, sinking to your knees.

“Fucking shit.” He breathed it out, barely audible over the machinery behind him that he started to brace on as you took him in your mouth.

You just hummed as you worked him over, knowing exactly where to get him weak in the knees. He liked slow, long strokes at first, but you surprised him by coming up to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he whined, thigh twitching and hand coming down to your hair. His fingers tangled in it and you didn’t ease up at all, knowing you were about to get him right where you wanted him.

You backed off for just a second, just to see his reaction as you looked up at him. His eyes had been closed for a bit, knuckles white as he gripped onto the washer. But with the loss of contact they flew open, just as you wanted them to.

With his eyes on you, you grabbed onto his hips, opening wide and taking him as far down your throat as you could. You fought the urge to gag, grinning a bit when his hips stuttered and his breath hitched. He even bent over slightly, body unsure of how to handle feeling so good.

He wasn’t even forming words anymore when you started to suck again, paying special attention to the vein that ran along the side as he practically came undone.

When your hand came back up to his balls, he was done for. He came quickly, and you let it slide down your throat, leaving him in your mouth until he guided you off.

You stood up proudly, wiping the corner of your mouth with your shirt while you waited for him to catch his breath.

“You are incredible,” were the words he chose, boosting your ego and making you blush all at the same time.

But you didn’t get a chance to respond, because suddenly he was bending down, your hips colliding with his shoulder as he scooped you up, grabbing onto your legs as he stood up.

“Ethan!” You squealed, bracing your hands on his lower back to hold yourself up. “Your ass is literally in my face.”

“You love it,” he teased, reaching up to give an easy slap to yours, making you squeak as he headed to the next room.

evening one, 7:07pm, guest bathroom

He didn’t even sit you down - he just waltzed right into the shower, opening the glass door and turning on the water.

“Cold, cold cold cold!” You gasped as the water ran over your back, hitting your shirt and soaking the fabric through.

He didn’t react to the water - he only squatted down so he could put you on your feet, hands immediately going to your waist to push you up against the wall. The water was starting to warm up, but the tile was so cold that it still took your breath.

It wasn’t helping that Ethan’s touch was making you feel like your skin was on fire, flushed and warm as he bent down slightly to catch your nipple in his mouth through your shirt. You moaned at that, back arching off the tiles when he nipped at it with his teeth.

“Not supposed to shower with clothes on,” you whimpered, already overwhelmed by just his hands on you.

“Not gonna shower, don’t even have soap in here. Christening, remember?” He whispered it, barely audible over the sound of the water hitting the floor. You didn’t have to ask his plans - he showed you, one hand moving to cup your core. He groaned when he felt a different kind of wet.

“All this, just from sucking my cock huh? Don’t deserve you, truly,” he grinned, hand coming up to the waist of your panties and yanking. The fabric tore, making you gasp.

Somehow, Ethan was already impossibly hard again, ready for another round. He pinned your hips back against the wall, foot pushing your legs just a little wider so he could line himself up. He pushed up in one swift stroke, stretching you out yet again. Somehow, it was even better than the day before, and you were so lost in the bliss you barely felt him pull your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

“Fuck E, feels so good,” you moaned, arms going around his neck as he started his rhythm, deliciously slow yet fast enough at the same time. Only he could fuck you like this, you were sure.

“Tell me how good baby, tell me how I make you feel,” he urged, hands moving to the tiles behind your head as he thrust into you, grunts and groans falling from his lips with every move.

“So good E, so fuckin’ good baby, you’re so deep, fuck,” you let the words tumble out, not thinking twice about them. When he leaned in to kiss you it made you clench all over and he hissed against your lips at the feeling.

“So tight for me baby girl, fuck, my fuckin’ pussy.” The mixture of his groans and the filth coming out of his mouth was enough for you to get yourself right to the edge.

He felt it, felt you lift up on your tiptoes, felt your walls tighten and start to flutter. He reached between you, fingers finding your clit just in time. He rubbed quickly, causing you to stop breathing as every muscle in your body tensed and then you were shaking, so hard your teeth chattered. If his dick wasn’t still inside you you probably would have sunk to the ground.

He pulled out of you as soon as you were done, leaving you feeling entirely empty. You watched with hazy eyes as he turned off the water.

He came back over to you, strong arms wrapping you up and lifting you with ease, even with your skin slick from the water. You let him do whatever he wanted, just relaxing into his shoulder as he carried you out of the shower with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“We’re gonna make a mess on the floor,” you mumbled, watching the water fall off his body and drip onto the wood.

“Shhh, it’s fine,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he started to walk towards your room. You couldn’t help but feel that he was still hard, practically throbbing below your entrance as he carried you.

“Where we goin’?” You asked quietly, sitting up.

“Our room.”

“No repeats, remember?” you mumbled. “Put me down.”

He did as you asked, but there was already concern written all over his face. He kept a hand on you as you wobbled slightly, knees still a bit weak.

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

You just took his hand.

night two, 7:30pm, living room one

“Sit down,” you instructed him, pulling him towards the couch. He plopped down on the gray fabric - you knew there would be a wet patch there when you all were done, but you didn’t care.

Before you could say anything else, he reached out, hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not up for it. Really, I mean it. The whole christening thing is just for fun.” His voice was so soft - he was obviously worried that you were overdoing it. After all, you did have a history of being too sensitive for so many rounds in a row; Ethan always took it as a compliment.

But now, you were somehow still horny, and you knew he was painfully hard, especially since it was his second go round. So, you decided to prove to him that you were perfectly fine, leaning over, hands going to his thighs as you got in his face.

“Are you trying to convince me not to sit on your dick right now?” You said it slowly, drawing out your words. “Do you not want me to ride you?”

You actually watched him swallow, and he shook his head like a school boy being scolded.

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned, climbing onto his lap.

You wasted no time, bracing yourself on his shoulder so you could lift up and sink down onto him. There was barely a stretch this time, and you were glad, because you could immediately start up the pace you wanted. You went to your knees so he’d stay deep inside as you started to roll your hips like you knew he loved.

“Shit,” he choked out, hands moving to your ass, squeezing the flesh there as you leaned forward, adding a bit of a bounce to your movements - having your tits in his face was just a bonus.

“Not gonna last, fuck baby, just like that.” The words disappeared into your skin as he buried his face in your neck while you kept moving. Wanting to see his face, you tugged on his hair until his head came back up and you could kiss him.

His hands were desperate, wandering all over your skin as he tried to keep it together, lips rough against yours. It took so much focus for you to keep your pace as your own orgasm started to build, especially when you felt Ethan rising up to meet you, trying to get impossibly deeper.

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” You didn’t care that it had only been a few minutes - you knew he was so close, you could feel it.

He groaned at your words, and you gasped as his hands came to your hips, actually lifting you slightly just so he could pound into you harder. And just that slight shift of angle was enough to build you up in just a few strokes, and suddenly you were cumming with him, seeing stars as your body tried to process the third major orgasm of the day.

“Holy shit,” was all Ethan could say once he caught his breath. You were still speechless, body totally spent as you just sat there, exhausted. “Three in one day, that’s a lot for you,” he praised, pressing kisses to your temple. “My pretty girl is all fucked out huh?”

“Mmmm,” was your only response, and even you didn’t know what it was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, moving so he could stand up. He shifted inside you, making you whimper until he was able to lift you off of him. He mumbled an apology, hands coming around to your ass to hold you up. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he carried you back to your room.

Ten minutes later and the bathtub was full with hot water, waiting for you as you rinsed off in the shower first, deciding your hair desperately needed washing. Ethan watched you through the glass door as he waited in the water for you, soft smile spreading across his face when you finished up and headed to join him, limbs heavy.

He sat up to help you step into the massive white tub, immediately wrapping his arms around you as you settled back against his chest.

“You remember how you said we needed to pace ourselves?” He murmured in your ear. “Well, we only have two rooms left. We’re beasts.”

“What’s gonna happen when we have our own house? We could do this every weekend,” You teased, twisting around so you could rest your cheek on his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to his neck and collarbone.

“Do you want our own place?”

You thought on it for a moment, as much as your blissed out haze would let you. “Not for a while. I like living with Gray.”

“Wait. If we didn’t live with Gray, would you just walk around with no pants on all the time?” The seriousness of his tone made you giggle.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“That’s it, we’re moving, I’m getting on Zillow right now-” he sat up slightly as if he was going to get out of the tub, making you laugh and cling onto him.

“Stop, you know you love living with your brother. You miss him already and it’s only been like a day.”

He sighed, chest rising below you. “You’ve kept me plenty distracted.” But you both knew that you were right.

morning three, 10am, office

Your second whole day at home alone was so... soft. There was no other way to put it. You’d woken up on your own time, thrown on some comfy clothes and went together to your favorite vegan bakery, getting lattes and the best banana bread.

E had driven you up to a lookout and you’d had breakfast together watching the waves crash on the coast. And when you got home, you spent the whole day just moseying around the house, dancing around to the music on the speakers, playing cards, cuddling on the couch and watching movies.

“Can’t wait till this is us in our house with a few little mini you’s running around,” Ethan had said, pulling you closer to him on the couch.

“Mini me’s? Why not mini you’s?”

“Oh god, I wouldn’t wish a mini me on anybody, just ask Li,” he’d teased back. And the night had devolved into the two of you talking about what you thought your lives would look like in the future - living either in Jersey or LA, but definitely with Grayson as a neighbor. Two or three kids running around, not too far apart in age. You could picture it all in your head so clearly, and it had even seeped into your dreams later that night when you fell asleep on Ethan’s chest.

So when you woke up on the third morning, you pouted a bit when you didn’t find Ethan beside you in bed. You climbed out from under the covers, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and going in search of him - you wanted to tell him about the little mini-him’s you’d dreamed about, and how cute they were. You checked each room as you went along, finally hearing his voice and peeking into the office.

He was spinning slightly in the office chair, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I think that’s fine. If we restock in July, then we should have enough time to get enough surplus built up before the holidays.” He caught sight of you then, face lighting up. He waved you in, wanting you to join him.

You could hear the voice on the other side of the line as you got closer, and recognized it as Nathan, one of the main product managers for Wakeheart. He’d made sure not to plan any meetings for the days you had the house to yourself, giving himself a ‘mini-vacation’, but you knew he couldn’t stay away from work that long. You didn’t mind - his ambition was one of your favorite things about him.

So you simply headed over to settle onto his lap, nuzzling up into his neck as you straddled one of his thighs and cuddled up.

He pulled the phone away from his ear for just a moment, turning his head to kiss you good morning.

“Do you think we should make a holiday line? Grayson and I were talking about it, or we could just run some specific packaging deals, with mini’s or something.” He kept talking, spinning about 45 degrees in the chair and then back again, using his foot to move him.

What he didn’t realize was that just that movement was making your core shift on his wide thigh, and your thin panties weren’t doing anything to help the situation.

You still had a bit of residual sensitivity, but it didn’t hurt - now it just made it that much easier to get turned on. You tried to ignore it for a minute - Ethan always took his work so seriously, and you really didn’t want to interrupt.

But soon it was too obvious - you knew that if he didn’t already feel the wetness on his skin, he was going to soon. Almost against your own will your hips started to move just slightly, desperate for any type of friction across your throbbing core.

And of course, Ethan noticed. You sat up, trying to get a new angle and his eyes were blown wide, mouth actually hanging open slightly because holy shit, you were actually riding his thigh while he was on a business call.

With a devious grin, he bounced his leg once, and you squeaked so loud that you had no doubt that Nathan heard it. Your hands immediately went up to cover your mouth, cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“Just my floor, sorry. What’d you say?” He played it off, pressing a finger to your lips and still smirking at you as you started to grind again, one hand going to his shoulder, the other bracing against his right thigh to give you leverage.

“Yeah, we could do two separate mini bundles, with one set for enterlight and the other with the signatures, maybe spruce it up with some festive packaging.” His voice was devilishly calm, and somehow that only turned you on more. The fact that he could be so unaffected by you literally getting off just using his leg had your skin flushed and hot, a mixture of embarrassment and want.

“We’ll have to run it past Gray once he’s back. Right now it’s just me and my girl at the house, Sterling isn’t even here, so it’s just us.” His eyes were on you, but you didn’t realize how intensely he was watching you until he brought his other hand up to grab your jaw, tilting your head back until you had no option but to stare directly at him.

You bit down on your lip hard, fighting with yourself to stay quiet as you worked yourself up, moving fast, the chair starting to creak just barely with your movements. A few whimpers still slipped past your lips and you could actually see his pupils blow wide at the sound.

“Yeah, uh, actually Nathan I think Y/N needs me for... something. Can we finish this up later?” There was a slight gruff to his voice now, the first real sign that any of this was getting to him. “Alright, talk soon. Bye.”

His phone hit the desk hard as he practically dropped it, both hands moving to your hips as his mood turned on a dime.

“God you drive me insane baby. Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but I love it,” he groaned, gripping onto your hips as you continued to move, so lost in the feeling that you barely even heard his words.

“Fuck Ethan, I’m close, I’m so fuckin close,” you breathed, digging your nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth.

“There you go baby girl, c’mon, get yourself off on my leg, c’mon, you’re almost there,” he encouraged you, starting to barely bounce his leg to give you that extra little bit of friction you needed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fu-” your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your words as your whole body tensed up, thighs closing together to squeeze around his as your toes came off the ground and every muscle in your legs started to shake. It rolled through you in waves, keeping you tensed up for almost 30 seconds before you were finally able to breathe. You gulped down the air you’d been missing, collapsing forward onto Ethan’s chest as his arms wove around you.

“Woah. That was a good one huh?” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your back as you caught your breath. “If you needed me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Was just comin’ to tell you about my dream,” you stood up, moving to close your legs and sit on his lap sideways instead, too sensitive to stay like you had been.

“Oh yeah? And what did my girl dream about, hmm?”

You launched into the story, talking about how the two of you had a daughter and son, both with dark curls like Ethan’s that bounced around while they played in the treehouse that Grayson had built for their kids to share.

“It really sent the baby fever into overdrive,” you sighed, tracing over his collarbone tattoo as you finished.

“You know,” he leaned down, getting closer to your ear. “If you want a baby, you gotta at least give me a chance to get my dick in you.”

“Stopppp,” you blushed, burying your face in his neck. He just laughed.

“Oh so now you’re gonna get bashful on me huh? Just came in here and rode my thigh into oblivion while I was on a business call, but me mentioning putting a baby in you, oh no, that crosses the line.”

You sat up and pouted at his teasing, but he just kissed it right off your lips with a laugh. “You know I love it, don’t be embarrassed.”

afternoon four, 3:32pm, dining room

“Babe, c’mon, if we’re late Gray’s gonna be pissed,” you called out, grabbing Grayson’s water bottle from the counter and filling it up - you were always thirsty after a long flight, and you figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Ethan came around the corner then, taking one look at you and immediately turning around with a groan, heading back to your room.

“E!”

“You’re wearing that? You don’t even have a shred of mercy for me, do you?” He was exasperated as soon as he came back into the kitchen.

You looked down at yourself - you just had on a sundress, it was no big deal.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’m already trying to get over the fact that you’re gonna start wearing pants again all the time and you’re out here looking all... all tempty,” he pouted, and you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“Tempty? That’s a new one. And hey, technically I still don’t have on pants,” you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

“Is that supposed to be helpful right now?” He asked, making you realize that pointing out the fact that your were in a dress probably wasn’t helping the already growing bulge in his pants.

With devious eyes, he glanced over at the clock. You had a few minutes to spare before you absolutely had to leave to avoid being late, and he knew it too.

“Ethan... no. No,” you cautioned as he started to walk towards you, but you were laughing at the fact he looked like a cat on the prowl.

“C’mon, we never finished our christening! All we have left is the dining room! You know I hate giving up.” He was pouting again, even sticking his bottom lip out as he kept walking and you backed up until you bumped into the wooden table.

“We’re gonna be late,” was your last possible defense, and even that was half assed. You were already wet god dammit, all he had to do was look at you.

“Please baby? We’ll be quick, I promise.”

You answer by turning around, bending over and reaching back to flick your dress up over your ass. His knees almost give out at the sight.

“Absolute.” He leaned down and presses a kiss to your left asscheek. “Dream.” He kissed the other, making you laugh.

“Thought we were gonna be quick,” you teased, secretly loving all the attention. As excited as you were to see Grayson, you sure as hell were gonna miss this.

“So greedy,” he chuckled, moving up to catch your thong with his fingers and pull it down to your knees. You heard the rustle of him getting his shorts down, and a gentle tap at your slit with his tip was your only warning before he pushed himself in.

“Fuckin’ shit baby,” you croaked, hands balling into fists at the sensation. You weren’t sure how it felt so good to be stretched out so nicely - surely you’d get used to it eventually, but you secretly hoped you never did.

“Hmm, feels nice huh? You feel so good every damn time,” he praised, hands squeezing at your ass as he pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in. “Always so soft for me.” He was lazily rolling his hips, giving you just enough to get you worked up but not enough to get you there.

“Fast Ethan. We’re going for fast,” you reminded him, a bit of sass creeping into your tone. You didn’t want to deal with a cranky post-travel Grayson if you were late.

He stilled his movement entirely, leaning forward to nip at your ear.

“You asked for it.”

And then he was moving, pulling your hips so he could slam into you fully, only letting go to reach around and rub at your clit, making your whole body tense up at the sudden change in pace.

“Fuck yes Ethan, fuck just like that, yes, yes yes yes,” you whimpered, a hand even coming to smack at the wood on the table as you tried to process all the sensation happening so quickly.

“Already tightening up, look at you.” His breathing was already labored as he continued pounding into you, grunting with the force of it. Neither of you were going to last long, it felt too good. “C’mon baby, wanna feel it. Cum for me, I know you’re close.”

You brought one hand down over his, guiding him to just the right spot over your clit, the callouses on his finger giving you just the right friction that had you tumbling over the edge.

You collapsed onto the table with the force of the orgasm, smiling when you felt Ethan chasing his own high and spilling into you only a few moment later, only your name falling from his lips.

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and then you were waddling off to the bathroom to clean yourself up quickly before pulling your panties back up. Ethan watched you with a smug smirk as you tried to walk normally, his ego bursting.

“Shut it,” you threatened, pointing a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

“I said nothing.” But his smirk was enough. “Better get that figured out before we get Grayson, or he’ll never let us live it down,” he grinned, offering you his arm as you rearranged your dress and let him lead you out to the car.

40 minutes later and you were climbing out of the car, legs not giving too much away as you watched Ethan run around the car and engulf his twin in the biggest hug, both of them more than ecstatic to see each other.

“Missed you bro,” Grayson smiled, looking over at you. “Missed you too munch,” he said, throwing out the nickname that only he was allowed to call you. Once Ethan let him go he moved over to you, giving you the biggest bear hug and spinning you around. Ethan reacted before you did, reaching a hand out to keep your dress down in the wind.

“Woah, easy, that’s only for my eyes,” Ethan huffed, pulling you to his side once you were back on your feet.

“Righttt, I forgot. But hey, I’m home now, so you’re gonna have to start wearing pants around the house again. Sorry to ruin the no-pants party,” Grayson smirked, watching the blush spread across your cheeks as you whirled on Ethan.

“You told him?” You squeaked, embarrassment running through you from head to toe.

“Thanks bro, real fuckin’ nice,” Ethan said over your head before looking at you. “That’s the only thing I told him, I swear.”

“You’re so dead,” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he knew he was in for it later.

“Ahh, so nice to be home,” Grayson grinned, wrapping you both up in a hug as he laughed.

-----

SORRY this took so long guys. also if u love me u should message me which room was your favorite just for fun haha thank you for reading, ily guys!

#GOD this was a lot of work holy shit #took me SO long thanks for being patient!!#lynds writes #ethan dolan #ethan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine

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reducttiddi3es · 4 years

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Feels Right Monty x OC- Requested

REQUEST: @vintagemac94 Hey🌸, I just came across your blog and loved the Monty love I saw there those two stories were pretty awesome. Could I pls make a request for MontyxOc where she has a boyfriend in college but when she moved to town and transferred to Liberty High she fell for Monty because of the amazing chemistry they had when they first met... As much as she wanted to stay loyal the connection her and Monty had proved too strong to ignore and she let the temptation take over💜. Tysm

I really enjoyed writing this, so much so that I had to split it up into parts XD. I will put the second part up soon(once I complete it that is)

hope ya’ll enjoy it. requests are always open.

WORDS: 1389

MASTERLIST

“Ok, babe. I’ll call you tonight. I can’t afford to go late on the first day of school”

“No, Soph, you call me in break time ok.”

“Ugh, fine. I love you but I really got to go now”

I hung up smiling about how much my boyfriend cared for me. We had been together for a little more than a year and it was going great. He was a little possessive but that’s because he loves me. Right?

I ran down the stairs excited for my first day at Liberty high.

“Morning, mom. Hey dad”, I said kissing both of them.

“Here, have your breakfast and then we’ll leave”

“Have a nice day, sweety.”

“Bye dad”

I walked into the massive property of Liberty high which was crowded with noisy teens. I looked around, there were the cheerleaders, nerds, punks and the jocks. Ugh.

I never really fit in with most of these groups. I am friendly but I’d rather be alone. But I had promised myself to make friends.

I looked around and spotted a boy and a girl talking, they seemed nice.

“Hey, I’m Sophie Miller. I’m new here, can you please tell me the way to the counsellor’s office”

“Hey, I’m Hannah Baker.”

“I’m Clay Jensen. Well I was just heading there to take the new students on the school tour.” He laughs.

“Well then you can give me a little preview” I said before we bid goodbye to Hannah and headed towards the counsellor’s office. Wow. Its gonna take some time to memorize all these hallways.

The day went by well, I had a few classes with Clay and others with Hannah, so I didn’t have to put in the effort of socializing.

I sat at their table during lunch. They were so sweet, and we talked about random stuff while they told me a little more about the school.

As soon as the bell rang, we all moved towards our next class, when I realized that the next class, I had neither Clay nor Hannah with me. They showed me towards my classroom before going off towards their own. I walked in slowly, almost as if I was walking into a dense cave. I walked slowly to a bench at the end of the class, satisfied that I had caught the attention of nobody, or at least that’s what I thought.

I managed to get away from the “new girl introduction” bit successfully. Since it was the last class of the day, I went out towards the parking lot wondering where my dad was.

Things went on quite smoothly for the next few days. By smooth I mean little to no social interaction except with Clay, Hannah and a few teachers. It felt nice, like I could fit in, that I did not need my boyfriend as a barrier between me and the world. Jake (boyfriend) had asked me to call him at least 5 times a day. It was getting a little annoying, but I had to, after all he agreed to me going away to another town. It was the least I could do for him.

It had been almost a week in school and it is safe to say I still don’t know anyone other than Clay and Hannah, I mean I did make efforts to make friends but it seemed as if everyone had their friend groups filled already.

“Honey, I’m so sorry but you’ll have to walk to school this week”, my dad told me as he was getting ready to catch his flight to go on a business trip.

“Don’t worry dad, I CAN walk to school. It isn’t far” I chuckled.

Monday morning came soon, I got up realizing that I had to walk to school and so I had to be quick. But after all I’m as slow as a sloth bear. I ran, literally ran out of my house without breakfast, racing with the wind. God, I’m going to be late.

“Hey, careful.”

In the haste of getting to school on time, running like a mad-man on the streets, I did not realize when I bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking, so sorry.” I said sweating and almost at the verge of freaking out. “I didn’t see, I don’t- I’m sorry”

“Oh god, shhh, quiet”, that someone clasped a hand over my mouth with the other slowly rubbing up and down my back. This somehow immediately calmed me down. I looked up to meet the eyes of this kind stranger.

I looked into his deep hazel colored eyes, and I felt something. Something, that I can’t explain. Something I haven’t felt before. Something that was nice. I was so lost in his eyes that I did not realize that I had literally been gawking at him.

“You’re a weird girl, aren’t you” he laughed.

I snapped out of my bliss and gave him a confused smile.

“And a pretty one” he added, sending more shivers down my spine. His smile was so confident, so sweet yet almost like a smirk oozing with arrogance.

“Why are you walking to school today? Do you need a ride?” he asked.

I was shocked he knew as much as he did. And I guess it was written all over my face. He added “I go to the same school. I’ll give you a ride, it’s not very safe to leave you unsupervised right now”, he laughed.

He walked over to a jeep parked near the sidewalk and sat confidently in the driver’s seat, sure that I would follow him. And I did. I don’t know why I did it but I did. I sat down in the passenger seat.

“I’m Sophie. Sophie Miller” I said mustering up the most confidence I could and smiled at him.

“I’m Montgomery. Montgomery De La Cruz. But I prefer Monty” he said mimicking me. But I wasn’t offended, in fact I smiled at him wider than before. “Monty” I said softly.

The entire ride we spoke about tons of things. I’m not saying we had many things in common in fact we didn’t but it did not feel awkward. Also did I mention that that he was the hottest person I’d ever seen (still is). I hadn’t gotten the chance to see him that well considering I was near-freaking out over stumbling into him but when we reached school and he got off the car, the radiation of the morning sun hitting his skin in all the right places making him look more godly than he did before, had taken my breath away. Wow.

My feet carried me to class, my hands carried my books, physically I was in class but my mind could focus on nothing but Monty. His voice echoed inside my head; his soulful laugh made me smile like an idiot without realizing that I was in class.

“Miss Miller, is there something that you want to share with the class, so that all of us can laugh”

My face turned red at the teacher’s voice and I shook my head. The bell rang before she could go any further. The entire day, I barely payed attention to any class, my brain flooded with images of Monty (funny how I could imagine him in ways I’d not even seen him).

I absent mindedly walked out of the school towards home, still smiling wide. All of sudden a car pulled up next to me. The window rolled down.

“You know you can’t just ditch me, today morning was certainly not a one-time thing” he said smirking.

“N-no I was-“

“Oh God, just get in sweetheart” he laughed, the nickname leaving his lips effortlessly.

***

It had been a week and my dad was back home but I still drove with Monty to school. We had gotten incredibly close, I went to his games and we spent a lot of time together after school, gaming, listening to music, I even tutored him while he failed to teach me baseball. But the most wonderful time was when we sat together and talked about random things. Monty had gotten me to feel so good about myself, I had become more confident. It felt nice.

We were jamming to some music while riding to school when my phone rang.

Jake.

MASTERLIST

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

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Post-Extermination Cleanup (1/17/2021)

Hey look it’s a chat log that has nothing to do with that event I’ve been logging for the past few weeks

Alastor helps dig out @usedhearts Sir Pentious’s airship after it got crushed during the annual extermination, and totally overexerts himself in an effort to show off. Sir Pentious gives Alastor a tour and plans what ship repairs are needed. They talk about their deaths, play a violin duet, and somehow manage to act incredibly gay without either one noticing the other one has a crush. “How incredibly gay?” you ask, and I answer: at one point they just start smelling each other’s perfume/body wash and neither one thinks this is weird. Radio waves interfere with gaydar.

usedhearts

🎩 I WAS PLANNING TO REPAIR THE WAREHOUSE SO THE SHIP WOULD NOT NEED TO BE MOVED AS IT IS REPAIRED!

🎩 BUT HERE IS THE LOCATION TO CLEAR AWAY THE DEBRIS! [location info lmao]

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Wonderful! Is now a good time for me to come over?

usedhearts

🎩 IT IS! I AM AT THE HOTEL, AND I WOULD LIKE TO BE THERE TO SEE YOU DO IT, SO COULD YOU COME GET ME FIRST?

🎩 I HAVE NOW REALIZED THAT DOING IT THAT WAS MAKES ME GIVING YOU THE LOCATION OVER THIS OBSOLETE! L-O-L

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Ha! Glad to have it anyway. I was actually just about to ask whether you were going to be there or if you were just going to trust me to clean off the debris unsupervised!

🎶 I’ll be right over! And I’ll bring brunch!

usedhearts

🎩 OH, YES, THANK YOU! I HAVEN'T EATEN YET TODAY!

🎩 I WILL AWAIT YOU WITH BAITED BREATH!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 And a hearty appetite, I hope!

🎶 And for my next magic trick, I’ll be silently appearing half a foot behind my audience! In three, two, one...

Alastor

Guess who is now, as promised, six inches behind Sir Pentious. And menacingly whispering “Ta-daaa~”

In order to get six inches behind Sir Pentious he had to position his feet to straddle Telly’s tail. It’s honestly not a very intimidating stance.

Sir Pentious

And there goes his hood in surprise! Even when he was expecting it, he was still done a startle.

"OH!" He laughed after, turning to see Alastor. "GOOD MORNING, ALASTOR!"

Alastor

Alastor comes *this close* to receiving a broken nose. Luckily, he was expecting the hood fwoop. "Good morning!"

For a split second he was desperately tempted to just lean forward, wrap his arms around Sir Pentious, and plop his chin down on his shoulder... but no, no doing that. Instead he stepped back and held up a box. "And here I am with brunch, as promised!"

Sir Pentious

Well, if Alastor wasn't, Telly would then! He turned around enough to be face to face and then hugged him, letting out a little snakey purr.

"It's good to see you, I missed you!" Was that weird to say? Friends missed on another right?

He pulled back and cleared his throat. "YES, WHAT'S ON THE MENU TODAY?"

Alastor

Oh! Okay. Hold on, he's going to melt into the hug. If he hugged back tightly enough it would crush the butterflies in his stomach right?

Apparently not, that *I missed you* made them multiply. "I missed you, too."

Stepping back felt like trying to rip his own arms off. Impressive enough that he succeeded, absolutely astounding that he did it without demonstrating any pain. "I hope you're not sick of eggs—I made a frittata! Just a lazy, simple thing, I'm afraid." This lazy, simple thing was stuffed with pesto chicken and two different kinds of cheese and even a tomato he'd shanked a man in an alley for in order to get it fresh. Never trust Alastor when he calls food simple.

It also, as it happened, had been *his* frittata, until suddenly he'd discovered an opportunity to pass it on to a snake who needed it more than him. He'd carefully trimmed off the part he'd already eaten in a way that disguised the fact that it wasn't a whole piece, devoured the scraps, and hurried over. He wasn't about to waste time making more food when he could just hand over the food he already had.

Sir Pentious

Oh his eyes are big! They are Big and Wibbly, as he stares at that frittata!

"It looks delicious! Oh, thank you, Alastor!" He took it, almost reverently, and sat on his coils to just....start eating right there. He's eating fast but somehow still savoring it! He's making some very happy snake noises, and when he finishes, he's coming back to give him another hug!

"It was delicious, thank you!" He pulled back, but ran his hand down Alastor's arm to hold his hand. "Did you get fresh tomato? It didn't taste dried!"

Alastor

"Any time!" Just look at him eat. Was the poor man starving? Maybe he should have made a new one, it would have been a little bigger. He was considering whether he could teleport in some toast when he got hugged again and forgot what he was thinking about.

"Er—yes! Straight from the living world, I think! Either that or there's a *very* good greenhouse hidden somewhere nearby, but it certainly tastes like mortal realm quality, doesn't it?"

Sir Pentious

"It did! It was so tasty, I haven't had a fresh tomato in--" He pauses and thinks, his face scrunching. "Well, I can't even remember when!" He laughs a bit.

"Did you want some tea-- or, rather, coffee? I know you don't like tea. I figured we might have a cup before we head to the warehouse?"

Alastor

"I've got something of a knack for tracking down the good ingredients! Most of them, anyway—I haven't scared up any tropical fruit for you yet, but I'm keeping my ear to the ground."

He waved off the offer, "Don't you worry, I'm taken care of!" He opened a portal and a handy travel mug dropped through—the coffee he'd been having with brunch. "But if you want to make yourself some tea before we go, I'm more than happy to wait!" He bowed with a dramatic flourish. "Today, I'm at your disposal, my good Sir."

Sir Pentious

Telly's eyes widened again at the sight of the mug. Oh, how convient! He laughed. "I sssee! Putting that french press to good use then?"

He went over to his hot plate, turning it on as he filled the kettle. "And here I was hoping that perhaps I could con you into trying some more tea." He giggled again.

Alastor

"I most certainly have! Let me tell you, it's kicked up the quality of my breakfast a notch or two!"

Alastor found a counter to lean against. "As I said, I'm at your disposal. If you want me to try some more tea..." he placed a hand over his heart gravely while a solemn military march played faintly, "then I'll endure this trial with quiet dignity and grace." His audience laughed at him. "Anyway, this coffee's got to last me the rest of the day!"

Sir Pentious

"Perhaps just one cup? I made this mix just recently and find it quite delicious, even without honey!" He hummed as he too leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to whistle. When it did, he poured the hot water into a prepared pot, and settled on his coils to wait. This pot, however, was clear glass, letting the petals and tea inside be seen, as well as how the water changed color.

"It's a blackberry jasmine tea, with a dash of sweet vanilla!"

Alastor

"Better make it a small cup, I don't want to waste your fancy tea if it turns out it isn't to my tastes." And he didn't think it would be, but he wasn't going to be so rude as to not even try it.

He watched the pot, fascinated by the gradual color change.

Sir Pentious

Telly seemed to know the perfect time to pour it-- probably from how often he made tea-- and poured a full cup for himself and only half of one for Alastor. He slid the cup and saucer over towards him-- the cups matched the pot, clear glass with gilded gold edges.

"I think you may like this, as it's more bold and bitter than some other teas I've made." He took a sip without adding anything and sighed happily.

Alastor

"Thank you!" He sipped it, then considered it in thoughtful silence. The invisible audience murmured among itself like judges debating an Olympic gymnast's score.

"Well—I don't think I'd pick it off the menu myself, but it's not bad," he finally said. "It tastes the way a flower garden smells! It suits you."

Sir Pentious

He smiled, taking another sip. "I try my best. I'll find a tea that you actually like yet!" Telly moved closer, sitting on his coils again.

"Alastor, may I ask you something? I'm curious."

Alastor

"If you don't, rest assured that the fault lies in the nature of tea itself and not in your diligent efforts."

He gave Sir Pentious his full attention. "By all means!"

Sir Pentious

If Alastor was expecting something profound, he'd be sorely disappointed. "Why do you like coffee?"

Alastor

A shrug. "I like the flavor!" If Telly was expecting something profound... "Plus, it helps me focus. Like adjusting a telescope's knobs to get the blurry edges of the moon to sharpen. But isn't that why most folks like their morning coffee?"

Sir Pentious

His tongue sticks out a moment and his head tilts. "Perhaps! Every time I drink something with caffeine in it, all it does is make my brain scream, which is why I avoid it!" He shrugs and 'stands', offering his arm to Alastor.

"Shall we head to the warehouse now, my good sir?" He smirked.

Alastor

"Just means you have to be sharp under your own efforts, doesn't it?"

He accepted the arm. "We shall! Shall we be traveling *my* way?" He held up his free hand, ready to open up a portal.

Sir Pentious

"Yes! Absolutely! I'm looking forward to going through one of these portals and not getting pummeled by a giant tentacle monster!" He laughed, thought the sound was a _little_ forced. Also his Scent for the day was also jasmine and blackberry. He was doing a matching thing.

Alastor

"There's going to be no pummeling on *my* watch." For a moment, his tone was unusually serious. "Today, the giant tentacle monster is going to be making up for sins against airships past."

He contemplated their route, then moved his arm from being linked with Sir Pentious's to wrapping around his waist. "Remember when you took me for a dive? You're going to want to get a grip on me that tight. And probably to keep your eyes closed. The view can be... nauseating."

Sir Pentious

Telly glanced down at his tail, the eyes that remained ever open. "That might be...difficult."

But his arm wrapped around Alastor's waist, and he pressed close to his side, his claws even going so far as the latch onto his coat. "Alright! I think I'm ready as I'll ever be!"

Alastor

"Can't blink them?" Tsk. "Well! Try not to look to hard!"

He resisted the urge to take a scenic route, mentally called for a portal, and tumbled them into it with a little push off the ground like kicking off from the side of a pool. For a moment, they twirled through a dimension of stale air and distant roiling shapes, dead eyes tracking their movement, cacophonous inhuman music playing from every direction—

And then they were out the exit portal. The experience lasted under two seconds. Take 1 point of psychic damage.

Sir Pentious

Just the small amount of time they were inside that....whatever it was, had Telly's mind reeling when they exited. He held tight to Alastor even after they were out, blinking owlishly and trying to keep his tea and frittata down. He took slow, deep breaths, and stilled the shaking in his limbs.

"W-well, you weren't kidding about that, were you?" He laughed, the sound weak, and he closed his eyes (on his face) a moment.

Alastor

"They're wonderful folks once you get to know them!" Not that that was much comfort right now.

Alastor was used to it, but he remembered the first times he'd glimpsed that dimension. He pulled Sir Pentious into a hug—physical grounding was probably good—and played the oldest popular song he could think of off the top of his head, "If I Ever Cease to Love." Hopefully Sir Pentious would recognize it from when he was alive—maybe—perhaps the song was too American?—but even if he didn't, it was still a sound far more familiarly human than the noise in the dimension they'd left behind.

Sir Pentious

He didn't recognize it, no, but it was comforting all the same. He stayed clinging to Alastor until the trembling subsided and the nausea faded. Telly took another few deep breaths as he slowly pulled away, though his hand moved to grip Alastor's shoulder.

He shook his head and then looked at the warehouse-- his expression soured instantly at it, half rubble with half his airship still trapped inside. His mind reeled at how much work it would take to fix it. He'd _just_ gotten it back in order, too...

"It's a pity that the angels didn't just....leave it be. I made sure all the Eggs weren't anywhere near it, that the area around it was empty and abandoned, but noooo, they still had to just...._destroy_ it." That was probably more venom in his voice than Alastor had ever heard-- a real, seething hatred.

Alastor

Alastor squeezed Sir Pentious's shoulder in turn. "What do the jailers care about breaking their prisoners' toys, especially when they're only coming into the prison to execute us?" He shook his head scornfully. "Do you know what all this senseless damage and destruction says? They're scared of what you can make. As they should be."

Sir Pentious

His tongue stuck out, and his face scrunched up as he surveyed it-- the Eggs hadn't noticed them yet, and they were still scrambling over the rubble, clearing it little by little. There were only about two dozen of them here, which probably said more about how many he'd need to replace than anything.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it was simply collateral damage. I _tried_ not to advertise that this was were I was hiding my ship this year."

Alastor

"Well, if they're not scared, then they're stupid and ought to know better!" He laughed. "So! What's first? Get all the warehouse pieces off of all the ship pieces?"

Sir Pentious

"Yes, that seems best! Let me get the eggs off of the debris before you start." He moved a bit away from Alastor-- just so as not to make such a loud noise right by his ears-- and then put two fingers in his mouth to whistle. It was loud, sharp, and shrill, and the Eggs immediately stopped and turned, en mass, toward him-- before swarming towards him. They all babbled over on another and Telly sighed, hands on his hips.

"YES, YES, HUSH NOW! MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, ALASTOR IS GOING TO CLEAR THE REST!"

They Eggs all turned in unison to stare at Alastor, half confused and half looking just Not Happy. "Mister Bossman?" One stage whispered to Pentious. "Are you sure about letting HIM help?"

Telly sighed and rolled his eyes (all of them). "I DO NOT HAVE THE TIME TO EXPLAIN MULTIVERSE THEORY TO EGGS. HE'S NOT THE MEAN ALASTOR, HE'S HERE TO HELP, NOW _MOVE!_"

He shooed them off to a clear area a small distance away, and the Eggs obeyed, though many still stared at Alastor as they wandered off.

Alastor

"Just tell them the mean one is Alastor Number One and I'm Alastor Number Two! They should get that—that's how the eggs work, isn't it?" He laughed and turned toward the ship.

He was going to regret having such a small breakfast *and* opening several portals and quick succession—he was well below peak energy even before he got started. Still, he had enough in him for some magical manual labor—he'd be starving at the end, but he'd still be on his feet. "This is going to take a bit of concentration, so I'll be back with you when the show's over. Play a round of cards or something."

He cracked his knuckles and surreptitiously jammed one claw into the palm of his hand. His eyes went wide and blank and filled with static as he connected his mind directly to his usual inhuman partner, and he got to work.

The tentacles dangling out of the massive portal above the airship looked slightly uncanny and unreal as they worked, but they didn't look nearly so mind-meltingly horrifying when framed by normal reality rather than the monster's home dimension. Alastor stood stock still for long minutes as he conducted the creature; the only parts of him that twitched were his arms and hands, moving as though he was puppeting a marionette or playing a piano. First the big pieces were picked up and tossed outside (or, occasionally, dragged into the portal for who-knew-what purpose); then the small ones, delicately plucked up and settled on the warehouse floor by the large suckers or the thin tips of tentacles.

Alastor didn't speak and didn't break his concentration for a moment until he felt the airship was sufficiently clean. Then he cut the connection. As the tentacles withdrew into the closing portal, his shoulders sagged and he stumbled a step back. That took more out of him than he'd anticipated. He didn't know when he'd last been connected to the monster for that long.

He turned toward Sir Pentious, trying not to let his fatigue show. "How's that?"

Sir Pentious

Telly watched with rapt attention-- not too the monster that had once destroyed his ship and was now cleaning and clearing the debris from it. No, he was focused on Alastor, watching ever twitch and movement-- and thus, caught the sagging. Instantly, he was at his side, a hand on his back and the other holding his arm. Telly's tail slithered around behind Alastor, gently bumping the back of his knees to try and get him to sit.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, face creased in concern, the hand on Alastor's back starting to rub in slow circles. "That looked like a lot..."

Alastor

"What? I'm f—" The tail bumps the back of his knees and his legs immediately give out. He flailed with a sound effect like a bookcase falling over as he went down—oh, now he's sitting. Okay. This was fine.

So much for trying to act cool and unaffected, though.

"... As I was saying! Perfectly fine!" He folded his hands primly in his lap.

Sir Pentious

Telly smiled, a bit rueful, and nodded. "Yes, perfectly fine." His hand was still rubbing Alastor's back, though.

He turned to look out over the space, now open and much cleaner, the half of the warehouse that still stood and the half of the airship inside, now exposed.

"It looks good. Now the Eggs can get started on rebuilding the warehouse-- they're much faster at building things than cleaning, that's what they were designed for, after all." He turned his head, hand cupping the side of his mouth as he shouted.

"NOW GET BACK TO WORK YOU SLACKERS!!" The Eggs, of course, burst into motion.

Alastor

The back rub was somehow half soothing and half incredibly grating, highlighting as it did how vulnerable he must seem at the moment. He endured it for only a few seconds before the buildup of unpleasant stimulation had him squirm away from the touch. "Anything I can do to help with the rebuilding efforts?" He said like some kind of a person in any condition to be rebuilding anything.

Sir Pentious

Telly pulled back his hand, setting his hand on his hips instead. He looked out over the Egg Bois and their work and then shook his head.

"No, they'll have it in hand soon enough. But I could give you a tour of the surviving half of the airship, if you like?" He turned to smile at Alastor.

Alastor

"I would absolutely love a tour!" He hopped to his feet and steadied himself as he momentarily almost blacked out—that wasn't visible, right? "Does the surviving half happen to include the kitchen? I realize you had brunch not too long ago, but it's about lunch time for me!"

Sir Pentious

He didn't touch, not again, but his hands flashed out to hover around Alastor as he hopped up-- just in case. At the question, he ran through the mental blueprint of the ship, his tongue stuck out in concentration.

"The bridge is fine, as is my organ, and the kitchen and my bedchambers are right below those, so I should think so! Though, the furnace was in the back...." He frowned. "I do have an old wood stove in there, though, I'll have some of the Eggs gather some things to burn."

He whistled again and called over four of the Eggs, sending them off with instructions before offering Alastor his arm again. "That's settled, let's get you that tour!"

Alastor

"Oh, the organ survived!" He beamed, what a relief. "Well, the ship will pull through all right then, won't it? Just like admitting someone to a hospital after a terrible accident—it doesn't matter how badly mangled she looks from the outside, she'll survive as long as she didn't damage her internal organs!" Studio audience laughter. Alastor thinks he's hysterical.

He looped his arm with Sir Pentious's and summoned up his cane. "Lead away!"

Sir Pentious

He started to slither toward the exposed, open part of the warehouse and ship. He didn't move fast, setting a leisurely pace. Before long they would get to the bottom floor-- just a lot of machinery. And that was when Telly realized...

"Shit. The ramps are gone."

Alastor

Alastor elbowed him lightly. "Have you forgotten who you're with?" He was sure had enough energy left to summon up a temporary ramp.

Sir Pentious

"We'd only need one up to the second floor-- The one from my bedchamber to the bridge should still be there." He's Trying to not look worried about Alastor. And he failed, he looks very worried.

Alastor

"Not a problem! Just let me know when you need me to summon it up! It'll only last a few seconds, so don't let me forget myself and strand you up on the second floor when I go home, hah!"

What's that look for? Alastor's fine! No weakness!

Sir Pentious

"Now would be good, the kitchen is up there too. The Eggs can find their own way up, they always do."

Alastor

*Kitchen.* Oh, that was an appealing place to start their tour. "Well, in that case!" He tapped his cane sharply on the floor. The light disappeared, leaving their surroundings illuminated in a strange blueish glow—and with the lights out, a glowing neon ramp appeared out of thin air. Shadows were good for all sorts of tricks. Alastor gestured grandly up the ramp. "Shall we?"

Sir Pentious

Hold on he's going to need to take a moment too look at the FUCKING NEON that he now was. Well, that was SOMETHING. After that moment, he just started up the ramp, Alastor still on his arm.

"This is so odd looking, but it's....beautiful..."

Alastor

"Isn't it just?" He was looking at Sir Pentious as he said it. His eyes and yellow stripes practically gave off their own light in this darkness, didn't they. "Simply gorgeous." It had been so long since he'd seen *any* Sir Pentious in light like this...

Hey, pal, whaddaya staring at? Eyes forward. "And it's great for parties, too!"

Sir Pentious

The body eyes stare right back at him. They know your sins, Alastor.

"Yes, I'd think so! I doubt you'd like the music but this lighting reminds me of those 'raves' that the kids have noawadays!" How did he know about raves? Who knew. He slithered all the way up the ramp and then blinked at what the neon did to his bedroom. That was....interesting.

Alastor

Everyone's a critic.

"Oh, I've been to one or two! Can't stand them!" He gave Telly an impish grin. "Did you know some of those places are so crowded that you can run the turntables for *five minutes* before security can make it through the crowd to kick you and your Cab Calloway records out?"

No need for the ramp anymore? Alastor dismissed it with a wave, and the strange lighting with it. The fatigue hit him like a basketball to the stomach. Oh, that left him less energy than he'd expected. Good thing he'd had the foresight to pull out his cane.

Sir Pentious

Telly blinked as the light changed back, and then laughed loudly. "Well, one would think they'd enjoy some Cab, at least you can properly dance to that!"

He surveyed his room, humming a bit. "First thing's first, I'll need to get the wall and ramp rebuilt. I don't want to leave this ship again until it's fixed." Now that he was back, he realized just how much he'd missed it. "Then the plumbing, the tanks, get the power back up...."

Alastor

"You want the walls in *before* you have plumbing?" He shrugged. "All right, if chamber pots are your thing..."

Sir Pentious

"A wall can be put up in an hour, plumbing will take the entire rest of the day. And I won't be able to sleep with a big hole right into my bedroom." His face scrunched and he shrugged. "The kitchen is through here, though." He pointed at the door across the room.

"Let's get some food and then I can get out my blueprints, really assess what all needs to be done and in what order..."

Alastor

"An excellent plan!" He's practically dragging Telly toward that door, don't mind him, deer in starvation mode coming through.

Sir Pentious

"Oh no, everything in the ice box has probably gone bad." He moved with Alastor, opening the door for him as they moved from hardwood to tile. "But hopefully the pantry is still intact and filled? There should be cans of food in there, along with other non perishables..."

Alastor

"I'm sure there will be something we can make a decent lunch out of!" He plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs to wait for Sir Pentious to survey his supplies.

Sir Pentious

He's more than willing to let Alastor rest as he opens the pantry to dig through it. "Well, we have the usual staples, beans and rice, some cans of various soups. Dried fruits-- oh! And some jerky." He pulled out the bag of dried meat with a grin.

Alastor

"Toss it here!" He held out a hand.

Sir Pentious

Toss! The bag goes sailing towards Alastor as Telly grabs a couple of the cans, a small bag of rice, and a similar sized one of beans. "Nothing fresh though, unfortunately." He lays the spoils on the table.

Alastor

He opened the bag and stuffed three pieces of jerky in his mouth at once as he surveyed their haul. "What do your spice stocks look like? They'd have survived the power going out." He just kind of assumed Telly had spices.

Sir Pentious

Oh he looks a little embarassed but slithers back to the pantry. "Hmmmmm....Salt. Pepper. Some basil....garlic powder...a bit of rosemary, onion powder...."

Alastor

The fact that the first item worth noting was *salt* was somewhat alarming. Even at that, when Sir Pentious trailed off, Alastor waited for a moment for the rest. Oh. Oh that was it.

"... Well! It's better than nothing!" He considered the options, ran through his mental recipe list, guesstimated how long it would take him to make the few options available, and reluctantly settled his gaze on the pre-made soup cans. Desperate times.

"All right, this will do for lunch," he muttered. "But for dinner—" he set the rice, beans, garlic and onion powders, and bag of jerky in a pile by themselves, "—I'm going to make some red beans and rice that would get me disowned by both sides of the family and half the state of Louisiana. So don't tell anyone about it. Unless it turns out amazing."

Sir Pentious

"I swear, I won't," Telly said with a giggle. "Maybe you can provide me with a list of spices and I can stock my pantry accordingly, for the next time."

Alastor

Was Sir Pentious planning to have Alastor over that often? (Don't get your hopes up too high, buddy.) "I'd be honored to suggest a shopping list! But, for now..." He plucked up a soup can disdainfully. "Is the stove ready to burn?"

Sir Pentious

"Oh! Let me see if the Eggs came back with the wood." He slithered from the room for a few minutes. His voice echoed as he ordered the Eggs bring up what they found and then, in they marched, carrying armloads of wood.

"Starting a fire shouldn't be too difficult, I'll just find the matches...." The Eggs set most of the wood by the stove, and shoved some into it, as Telly looked around for his matches.

Alastor

All right. Time to be vertical again. Heave-ho. Alastor rummaged around for a pot and a spoon to stir with while Sir Pentious got the stove going.

Sir Pentious

He discovered the the matches, and then some alcohol and an old rag. He tore it into strips, dousing them in the alcohol before tossing them in among the wood. Telly lit the match and tossed it in and there was a loud FWOOM as it ignited. He coughed a bit as he closed the stove's door, locking it in place.

He waited a few moments to see if the chimney was working-- and it was. No smoke filled the room, thankfully.

"Shouldn't take long for it to heat up."

Alastor

The soup was probably pre-cooked, so he only needed to put it on the stove long enough to heat it up, right?

While he waited, he asked, "So. Wall and ramp, plumbing, tanks, electricity... What all is it gonna cost to get this bird back up in the air? I don't just mean money-wise—time, labor, materials...

Sir Pentious

A deep, long sigh and he frowns. "A _lot_." He slithered toward the door. "Let me grab the blueprints, I'll be able to get a clearer picture with those."

After he left, there was an odd amount of silence, and then a KA-THUNK that sounded like a safe opening. And then he's back in, carrying a leather tube under his arm. "Here we are, let me get these out."

Alastor

Alastor quickly moved the pantry supplies off the table to make room for the blueprints, then stood near to watch their unveiling.

Sir Pentious

He undid the top of the tube, tapping it lightly to get the blueprints out. Some looked far far older than others, and Telly quickly plucked out the newest looking set, putting them on the table before gently coaxing the rest back inside. He set the tub next to his tail and spread out the papers.

Which clearly showed that much more than half the ship was gone-- more like 3/4ths, and Telly's throat constricted a bit. He cleared it with a cough and taped the front end of the drawing. "All of this is intact-- this is the most important bit, so that's good. There's a lot of one of a kind equipment on the bridge that is all fine..."

Alastor

Alastor leaned over to look, passing off his spoon to his shadow to keep stirring the soup. "So you're not going to need as many finicky, fancy parts, I take it?"

Sir Pentious

"Not as _many_ but there were quite a few things that were of my own design that I now have to rebuild from scratch." His eyes flicked this way and that on the paper, and he removed Hatty, tossing him over to the counter to sit. Telly began to rub his hands over the top and back of his head as he stared.

"This is going to take _eons_," He whispered.

Alastor

Alastor looked at Sir Pentious's dejection, and then at the blueprints. He took a seat across from him. "What can I do to speed up the process?" he asked. "Steal supplies? Conquer a better warehouse? Teach all my ghosts to weld sheet metal? Clone eggs?"

Sir Pentious

He was quiet for a long moment as he thought. "First, we can't kill any more of my Eggs, I'll need them all working round the clock to make any sort of headway. Rebuilding said cloning machine is first thing after the necessities. Getting a source of steel, brass, copper, perhaps some silver and gold. Hardwood and softwood, both of high quality. I'd rather not piss off any suppliers, so no stealing from them. The warehouse will be fixed soon enough, probably within a day or two. Some extra hands would be good, though, if your ghosts can carry large loads...."

He trailed off and rubbed a hand over his face. "That's not to mention how many personal hours I'm going to have to sink into it, rebuilding things like the boiler, the engines, and then redesigning things..."

Alastor

The man who was going to conquer Hell was too down and out to risk so much as stealing a bit of metal? He was in more dire straits than Alastor had thought. "Sure, not a problem, they can carry the loads—my ghosts *and* my many-limbed friend!"

He watched helplessly as Sir Pentious rubbed his face. "But surely I can help with more hauling heavy loads around? Don't get me wrong, if that's what you need, you've got it—but isn't there more I can be doing to help out?"

Sir Pentious

He's quiet for another moment before his head lifts and a thoughtful look crosses his face. "Well....considering you're an accomplished Deal Maker, maybe you'd be able to wrangle better deals from the suppliers than I normally would-- I'm half convinced they upcharge me just for the fun of it." His face scrunched.

"Though I understand if you'd rather not use your reputation for that sort of thing...."

Alastor

"You've got it!" His expression brightened at something he could help with. "We'll have to be clever about it, of course—a little subterfuge here, some cross-universe acquisitions there—because once people know I'm making orders on your behalf, things get *much* harder for *you,* my friend." He flung an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulder and winked conspiratorially. How did he do that, a second ago he was on the other side of the table. "But we're a couple of clever villains, aren't we? I'm sure we can get the supplies you need without tipping our hand."

Sir Pentious

His own expression brightened right back at Alastor's, and he smiled. He leaned into Alastor when he put his arm around him. "Sounds good. We are clever, we can make this work!" He felt a lot more optimistic, all of a sudden! Well, that's nice! "It'll still take a lot of time and hard work, but that will help a lot."

Telly grabbed the blueprint container again, grabbing a few pencils from the side pocket to start scribbling over the blueprint, already making alterations and modifications on the design. "Don't forget your soup, Alastor. Can't help me fix all this on an empty stomach." He winked.

Alastor

"As if I could forget lunch!" He'd totally forgotten lunch. He looked at his shadow, which held out the soup pot and shrugged at him. Alastor took it by the handle, found a soup spoon, and plopped back at the table to eat it straight from the pot. "What all needs changing?" he asked, leaning forward to read the blueprints upside-down. "Angel-proofing it? Say, I think the airship seems vulnerable to attacks from above, don't you? Especially collapsing warehouse attacks.”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, it does need upper reinforcement. That's definitely one thing I'm adding. It was far too fragile. Also more automated defenses that would trigger when registering angelic power...." He hummed and tapped his lip with the pencil.

"Maybe I can prototype that one weapon I was thinking about when we were on Okkylk..." He nodded a little. "Fairly sure angels can be hurt by their own weaponry...."

Alastor

"Careful—once someone manages to hurt an angel, all of Heaven's going to be targeting them to make sure they don't tell everyone else how to do it. Might be better to lay low and accept a few more smashed airships until you're sure you've got something that can take *all* of Heaven out."

All suggestions of caution aside, he was beaming with glee. "Do you really think you've got something that can take out angels, though? We've had black market angelic weapons down here for eons, if all it took was chucking their own spears back at them someone would have managed it by now! There's few beasts humans won't find some way to hunt, after all!" He pantomimed firing a rifle—a gunshot and a startled elephant trumpet rang out. "You must have something with a little more oomph to it?"

Sir Pentious

His hand perched under his chin, Telly's face looked downright dastardly with evil glee as he grinned. "I do, Alastor, I do indeed. You see, Valera told me that she has Angelic and other magical weaponry in her home, and that got me thinking: perhaps these weapons could simply have their energy siphoned and used to make.....perhaps a ray gun?" He started to cackle, first softly and then gaining in volume.

"It's so simple, one would think I would've come up with it before, no?" He settled but his grin still stayed. "Though, that does lead me to another request for you: I would like to learn more about magic, so as to better make this device, what would you say to teaching me?"

Alastor

Under other circumstances, Alastor would wonder how an angelic ray gun would have better odds of injuring an angel than an angelic bullet gun.

But under *these* circumstances, Sir Pentious was wearing an expression fitting on any silent movie dastardly villain and letting out a megalomaniacal laugh that should have won awards, and if he'd told Alastor that this ray gun could cut the moon in half and cause God to spontaneously shit His britches, Alastor would have agreed.

"*Well,* now!" He considered the request, rubbing his chin. "Some things that I know, I can't teach you—it simply isn't *for* you, it's something you only get the right to learn through your ancestors. Other things won't be much use to you, if step one is 'make a deal with so-and-so' and you're gunning to usurp so-and-so's whole chain of command. But the rest?" Another thoughtful pause. "Sure, I think I know a thing or two that might be useful to you."

Sir Pentious

"I would love to learn whatever you have to teach me, Alastor. I've been curious about magic for a while, but it seems so opposite my technology that I hadn't bothered-- plus, considering how terrible this universe's Alastor is to me, that put me off it too. Now, though, considering I have you, well, it seems the perfect opportunity to start." He chuckled, looking back down at the blueprints. He started sketching again, humming softly.

"Just think of all the new things I could make combining my technological skills with magic...."

Alastor

"Oh, I *do* think of it." He used to fantasize about the sort of doomsday weapons Sir Pentious could make if he had a little magic in his machines. "It's really gonna be something, isn't it?"

Sir Pentious

"Oh I hope so." There's a sort of dreamy cast to his voice, and his smile is wistful. "Things I could only dream of....maybe bring back a few scraped projects..."

Alastor

"*Oh?* What kind of scrapped projects?" He'd barely eaten yet. He scarfed down more soup as he listened. (Tastes like preservatives and salt.)

Sir Pentious

"Hm?" He looked up, having gotten distracted by the blueprints again. "Oh, just things that weren't aerodynamically sound for the airship-- maybe trying a crack at another dual sea/airship..." He shrugged.

Alastor

"Careful with the pipes." Studio laughter.

Sir Pentious

His face fell a little at the crack, and his eyes slid back down. His tail curled around the leg of his chair and he looked back at the blueprints, merely nodding at Alastor's joke. "Yes, certainly." His hand shook a little as he continued to make modifications, his grip a little too tight on his pencil.

Alastor

Alastor's smile wilted slightly. He tisked. "What a terrible comedian I make, don't I? Misjudge a little lighthearted ribbing and it comes across like a knife between one's ribs! My apologies, Telly!" He reached across the table to put a hand on his wrist. "I didn't intend for that to sting. No more death jokes."

Sir Pentious

At the hand on his wrist, he looked up, maybe a little too suddenly, and his breath made a sharp, but soft, intake. An apology from Alastor, any Alastor, was still a strange thing to hear. But his smile returned, smaller, but genuine and he nodded. "Thank you...I would appreciate that-- my death was, as one could assume, quite traumatic."

His eyes unfocused and his face went a bit slack. "My ship crashed, I told you that much but-- I survived the crash itself. Not for long, but long enough to....suffer.... I was pinned under pieces of my ship, my legs were crushed, everything inside...._hurt_, and I was....blinded. My eyes got--" He swallowed. "It was terrible. Dying slowly from bodily trauma, all alone, blind, under tons and tons of metal and glass...."

His breath hitched, and his hand covered his face. "I....I'm sorry, I just need a moment...I didn't mean to--" He took another deep, shuddering breath. No tears, but obviously that was only because he was trying very hard to keep them back.

Alastor

Alastor was completely silent as he listened (a rarity), focused entirely on Telly’s face. When he’d finished, Alastor gave his wrist a comforting squeeze. “Buried alive. I can’t think of many worse ways to go.”

He was silent for a moment; but then he said, “Mine was a lot faster than that. The gap between the wound that killed me and my arrival in Hell was non-existent. Lucky for me, eh? No lingering in pain?” He chuckled weakly. “I was... on a hunting trip. It was deer season. Dead of winter, too—shouldn’t have been out, really, but I was desperate to get a kill. I saw another man out there hunting—we’d actually crossed paths a couple hours earlier—but when he saw me, he must’ve only gotten a glimpse of me through the trees and thought I was a deer, because he fired immediately. I didn’t get a killing wound, but it was, you know, it was still a bullet wound. It was enough to knock me to the ground.

“When he came up to me, I was sure he’d realized his mistake and was coming to give me first aid. Instead, he looked down at me in naked terror, and then pointed his rifle right at my forehead. I guess he’d decided he’d rather get rid of the witness and go home than let a hunting accident ruin his Tuesday.” He played that gunshot sound effect again. This time, the sound seemed to hang in the air dolefully, slowly fading out into dead silence. “I died on my back with my arm trying to shield my face.”

Alastor squeezed Sir Pentious again. “I know yours, now you know mine. That’s fair, right?”

Sir Pentious

As Alastor spoke, Telly uncovered his face, listening intently, and his face started to scrunch. "How....how terrible." The words repeated in his mind, something about them sticking and then it struck him.

"'Get a kill', do you mean a deer? Or something else?" His head tilted, curiousity coloring his expression. "Though, if you don't wish to speak of it, I understand," He added hastily.

He let out a little hum. "Well, it really is no wonder that neither of us had a particularly gentle death, considering how we are now."

Alastor

Alastor gave Telly a wry smirk. “Well, you’ve painted me into a corner, haven’t you? If I *don’t* answer it, that’s just as good as admitting I was out there hunting for something worse than deer, isn’t it?” He scoffed. “I tell you, what’s the point of trying to get clever with ambiguous wording if someone’s just going to ask you to clarify? Some days it just doesn’t pay to tell half truths, you’ve either gotta commit to the truth or to a lie and not split the difference.”

He sighed heavily. “Well, since you asked, I suppose I might as well say this much, but no more than this: the only reason that man survived the day is because he shot me first, and he’ll probably never even know it. And that—that *is* funny. I can laugh about that! But I can’t laugh about much else from that day. I don’t blame you for not laughing about yours.”

Sir Pentious

Telly smiled in return, and nodded. "It is a little funny, yes." He took Alastor's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you for being honest with me, I truly do appreciate it, and I appreciate you."

He looked at Alastor's soup. "It's getting cold, you should eat." He returned to his modifications, humming a little more. "Why is it whenever we're together we end up spilling our guts to one another?" He laughed softly. "Not that I mind it, it's....refreshing, talking so openly about things like this. Trusting someone. It's nice."

Alastor

Telly just had to tack on that *I appreciate you,* didn’t he? Maybe if Alastor shoveled soup into his mouth he could drown the butterflies in his stomach.

“You know, I’ve got this theory—don’t quote me on this—but just a theory that, despite all our grousing and griping about each other, humans actually like humans. And we all go a little stir-crazy down here, not having any humans we can trust. Almost all the trustworthy ones went upstairs and the few that landed down here learned to hide it real quick. So the moment we find someone who doesn’t immediately make us regret a half second of vulnerability, we scramble to put all our eggs in that basket before the bottom of it has a chance to fall out. How does that theory sound?”

Sir Pentious

Telly listened and his face went on a kambucha girl style journey, before he ended it with nodding.

"Yes, that does make sense. Especially for ones who have been in Hell as long as us. Decades and decades, you jump at the chance when you find someone to trust." He smiled, rolling a pencil between his hands. A flip seemed to switch in his mind and he let out a small 'oh'.

"I should survey the pipe damage to get the water running. I can hook it up to the city line, as long as the filters are in place and fine. It would be nice to have water. Would need to cap off any broken pipes before then...."

Alastor

That, and no other version of Sir Pentious had ever given Alastor a reason to regret honesty—and Sir Pentious was the one person Alastor *wanted to know him.* But say that and it invites questions about Alastor’s *local* Sir Pentious. You don’t have to worry about half-truths if you just say nothing at all.

And they’d looped right back around to another opportunity to make a pipe joke. Alastor valiantly restrained himself. “There’s a high priority repair. Without water, it’s going to get pretty unpleasant around here pretty quick. I suppose when you’re in the air you’ve usually got big tank for your water? Do you recycle your water supply onboard or do you land to refill before you run dry?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, a tank for when it's airborn. Don't need to land it to refill though, it has an extendable pipe that I can deploy to connect and refill anywhere. Most of the water has a double use of cooling the machinery after it goes down a drain from a bath or tap. Anything from the.....toliet, gets put into a seperate tank that can be drained in a similar way to the the water intake. That's certainly the first tank getting repaired." He made a face.

Alastor

Extendable pipe. “*Like a giant straw.*” This concept delights him. “The eggs don’t need to use the toilet, do they? At least not much is going in that tank!”

Sir Pentious

"No, thank G--" He stops from saying that and his face scrunches again. "Thank ME, they don't. They don't need to eat, drink, or breath, either. I'm the only one around here who--"

He stops short and makes an even more scrunched face. "WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THIS, I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY BOWEL MOVEMENTS."

Alastor

“Talk about *spilling our guts* to each other!” A toilet flush and more studio laughter. “I know we’ve been doing a story-for-a-story thing, but I doubt you want to hear about mine, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t reciprocate this one.”

Sir Pentious

Telly can't help but laugh at that, his arms on the table and his face buried in them. "YES, PLEASE, I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THAT!" He lifted his head and giggled a few more times. He sighed softly.

"Alright, I need a moment to go siphon some of the Eggs to get started on capping the broken pipes." He stood and slithered out, leaving the door open after him. He loudly called for the Eggs and set them to work before returning.

"I wish I had the PA system working, having to go out and yell for them every time is exhausting."

Alastor

There, that was the sort of laugh Alastor wanted to get from him. One of *many* sorts of laughter he wanted to get from him.

Alastor pointedly cleared his throat. It carried a sound like the amplified rumblings of someone fiddling with a megaphone. “You say you need to get a PA system working?”

Sir Pentious

"Oh!" He laughed again. "Yes, that would be something of your area of expertise, wouldn't it?" He shrugged. "I would love your help, but first the power needs to be fixed, so that it could be properly tested. Though perhaps you could help me with speaker placements on the blueprints?"

Alastor

“*Telly.*” He arched his eyebrows. “You think I need the *power?* To get the *PA system* to work? My *friend.*”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed, shaking his head. "No, I know you don't! But _I_ would need it for it to work once you leave!"

Alastor

A shrug. “Fair enough! But as long as I *am* on board, let me know if you need to yell anything else at your eggs.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, that reminds me, you wanted to see the bridge, didn't you?" He stood and started to gather the blueprints on the table, and then his case of them. "I have a work table up there too, and that's where the PA system's main hub is, if you wanted to take a look."

Alastor

“Absolutely!” He devoured the rest of his horrible soup—he’d need that energy if he was going to play with the PA system—and then hopped up to follow Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious

Telly made sure to grab Hattie before he left the room-- couldn't forget him! And then slithered back into the bedroom. Moving around the bed, he opened another door to a ramp up. "Right this way!"

Alastor

Alastor paused for a moment in the bedroom—goodness, how many doors did this room have? It was Grand Central Station in here—then followed him up the next ramp. He wished he had a chance to get a better look at Telly’s bedroom, but... well, that would *definitely* be weird to ask.

Sir Pentious

And Telly's already halfway up the ramp, slithering and shivering at the cold metal. "I must get the heating back up soon too, it's far too cold in here for ssssomeone coldblooded."

Alastor

Alastor stopped abruptly on the ramp—he *intensely* disliked the combination of cold and airships and snakes—but he forced himself to shake off the awful feeling that had wormed into his gut and continued to follow Sir Pentious up the ramp.

Finally, at the top, he got himself to speak again: "We're in a tin can in Hell with no roof over us. The rooms closer to the hull are probably going to feel like ovens, aren't they?" Like being in a locked car with the engine off.

Sir Pentious

"Yes, unfortunately for you. It'll feel nice to me though." He laughed. He reached the intricate double doors that led to the bridge and paused the appropriate amount of them for a dramatic reveal before flinging them open.

"AND HERE WE ARE! THE BRIDGE OF THE GREAT SIR PENTIOUS'S AIRSHIP!"

....Which was currently filled with broken glass. Looks like the windshield would need replacing wholesale.

Alastor

There was nothing sadder than a dead bridge on a crashed airship, was there? It didn’t do much to lift his sudden morose mood.

All the same, he played an enthusiastic round of applause for the big reveal. He summoned up a couple of his ghosts to sweep aside the nearest glass so Sir Pentious wouldn’t have to slither over it.

“You know, you’re the only one I know who would make the inside of a giant war machine look like the kind of place you’d want to set up a cafe table and have a coffee!” He admired the scale motifs on the wall as he walked further onto the bridge—until he caught sight of the organ. “Well—*hello there,* beautiful. I don’t think I’ve seen *you* around the neighborhood before. New in town?” He propped himself up on it with an elbow. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dangerous place like this?”

Sir Pentious

"Well, I often say that if one cannot make something functional AND beautiful, what's the point?" He laughed, giving a nod to the ghosts. He didn't know if they would respond, but he still had manners.

"It helps that this warship doubles as my home. If its decor was bland it wouldn't be a very good place to live, in my opinion." He waited for the ghosts to clear the path to the organ, and slithered over to it.

"I see you've met my pride and joy." He lovingly stroked the dark wood and metal of the instrument.

Alastor

"I can't stand a conqueror without style. What's the point, indeed!"

One of the enthralled souls gave a dazed nod back. The other looked away. Rude.

"Why, you *should* be proud of her. Amongst all the instruments of destruction, here's an instrument that's wholly different—but no less capable of bringing down the house!" He pressed one of the keys. Nothing happened. "Oh, right." No power.

Sir Pentious

"Yes, she is glorious-- makes it wonderfully fun to score my own battles!" He laughed, stroking his fingers over the keys. He frowned when no sound came from Alastor's press.

"Ah yes, the bellows can't function without Eggs running it." He nodded solemnly. Then he grinned as he slithered to the side of the organ, pressing his hand to a wooden panel. "Fortunately, that's not the only instrument here."

The press of his hand unlocked the panel and he swung it open, revealing a set of three violins. "Do you play, Alastor?"

Alastor

“Score your own battles?!” Alastor slapped a hand over his dead heart. “Oh, you would have been a hit at the picture shows before they added sound! You mean to say you play *while* you’re in battle?” He could swoon. That’s the single most wildly attractive thing he’s ever heard.

He laughed, “The bellows are still powered manually? How marvelously medieval! I would have thought you’d put this thing on electric power!”

His smile stretched even wider when he saw the violins. This instrument had trap doors. Trap doors that hid even more instruments. Move over, Erik Le Fantôme. “*Do* I *play!* You may never hear me at the opera house, but there wasn’t a *fais do-do* in Louisiana where I wouldn’t have been a welcome addition! *You* play?”

Sir Pentious

He laughed, a long cackling one, pulling out a violin. "Do I PLAY? Why would I have these if I didn't!" Telly tucked the violin under his chin, plucking it a few times to make sure it was in tune before grabbing a bow. He took a breath and pressed the bow to the strings and began to play. The number was quiet recognizable, the first notes giving it away as the Phantom of the Opera.

(( the version he's playing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYwqBCskfsM

Alastor

"I don't know—decoration? To coax guests into playing for you?" He picked up a violin himself, hoping to show off—but before he got a chance, Sir Pentious took off; and Alastor sank down onto the organ's seat, eyes wide, spellbound as he watched and listened.

Only when he'd stopped did Alastor speak up. "You know, I've always wanted to hear you play Phantom. I just thought it was going to be on this!" He nodded at the organ.

Sir Pentious

"I often do! It's a good piece to just play on anything." He grinned, settling down into his coils. He set the violin on his lap and stroked it.

"When I was alive, I had a Stradivarius! One of my most prized possessions! Music was one of the few things that my family encouraged!" He chuckled. "Can't get that quality down here, but I hunted these down. They're very precious, which is why I keep them with the organ. Generally, if something survives a crash it's the bridge, and that's why I keep all these here."

Alastor

"If you can play it this well on violin, I can't wait to hear what else you play it on!" He studied the violin he'd picked up, as if he could judge its sound quality just by looking. "Is the entire organ near the bridge, pipes and all? Or were some of them spread out to the parts of the ship that got destroyed?"

Sir Pentious

"Some of it is here in the front of the ship, but some of them were damaged or destroyed, yes. Usually I have the pipes running throughout the ship, so that the sound of it can be heard anywhere-- it helps keep the Egg Bois' moral up, hearing me play!" Was he preening and puffing a bit, proud of himself? Why yes, yes he was.

Alastor

As he should be! "And heard from miles around, I'm sure! I suppose those are going to need repairs, too?"

Sir Pentious

"Oh, yes, they will. Unfortunately, that will have to be left until more vital things are replaced." He looked very sad about that, and gently pressed a silent key on the organ. And then he blinked, looking at Alastor as a slow, sly grin came across his face.

"Unless, I had someone I trusted to help handle the delicate sort of repairs an organ would require. Perhaps someone with a vested interest in musical instrumentation...."

Alastor

Alastor blinked at that. “Well, now! Do I have a vested interest? Sure! But do I have adequate skill? My instrument maintenance capabilities cap out at re-stringing the violin and emptying the spit out of a trumpet. *But*...” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not qualified to rebuild the pipes myself—but if someone else made the pipes and all I had to do was install them... I could also check with the souls I’ve got enthralled, see whether any of them ever worked on pipe organs?” He let out a long, thoughtful sigh. “What all do you think you’d have me be doing?”

Sir Pentious

"Oh the Egg Bois would be able to handle the actual building and repairs, I wouldn't have you doing physical labor, that would be preposterous!" He chuckled. "No, what I had in mind if giving you the blueprint for the organ's pipes and making sure the Egg Bois don't fuck it up, as they are wont to do. So, you'd be supervising! And then, you probably have if not perfect pitch, then damn near it, correct? Tuning it all is a hell of a job, and one I would gladly take your expertise for."

Alastor

“*Do* pipe organs need to be tuned?” He looked bewildered by the suggestion. “I... sort of assumed you just set up the big tubes and let them do their thing! But—sure, that makes sense, doesn’t it, even trumpets need tuning and they’re just big metal tubes too. I suppose a pipe organ has to have some tuning slides somewhere, doesn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes! Though it's mostly with the reeds and the sizes of the pipes. Usually I'd go through a few weeks of testing and hearing it out before I would feel it's ready to actually play, but someone else who knows music as well as I do would certainly speed up the whole process." He gave a little shrug. "Most pipe organs also never get moved or regularly have parts of them destroyed, so I am in a bit of a unique situation."

Alastor

“Fair! I suppose you’ve also got air pressure and such to worry about. Temperature?” A shrug. “Well, you’re right, I do have impeccable pitch—but you’ll have to show me the ropes before you set me loose in the pipes!”

Sir Pentious

"Once you tune the first pipe, I'm sure you'll catch on fast with the others, but I will be sure to show you how to it beforehand." He smiled brightly, and lifted the violin in his lap to tuck beneath his chin. "Would you like to duet, Alastor? I've never had the chance to play with another violinist."

Alastor

“*Never?*” He was aghast. “Ever? Then by all means!” He quickly started to tune the one he’d claimed. “What song?”

Sir Pentious

"Well, not since death, no." He shrugged, letting his bow drag down the strings, letting out a ringing note. "Perhaps more Phantom? I know almost every song from that."

Alastor

“Sure!” He enthusiastically raises the bow and violin. “Now, you’ve already covered the main theme wonderfully. Usually I’m partial to ‘Music of the Night,’ but... no, not that. For two violins, a *duet* would be more appropriate, wouldn’t it? What do you say to ‘All I Ask of You’—we take turns on playing the main melody and playing a harmony line?”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, yes, that sounds lovely!" He smiled wider and started playing. His eyes (on his face) almost shut to enjoy the tune, but he kept them open instead, to watch Alastor play.

Alastor

Since they’d launched straight into it, Alastor let Telly take the main melody first for Raoul’s parts, improvising a harmony line to compliment it. It was lucky he was as familiar with the song as he was, because less than half of his attention was on his own playing; most of it was on Sir Pentious, the look on his face, the grace with which he played. He barely remembered that they’d agreed to take turns in time for him to switch to the main melody for Christine’s part.

Sir Pentious

He swaps almost effortlessly to the backing melody, weaving harmonies around Alastor's playing. It's clear that he kept up with practicing through all the years since he'd died, so much so that he was able to be absorbed into watching Alastor play with an intense sort of focus, soaking in every detail. When Raoul's part came back around, he slid back into the main melody, and he smiled.

Alastor

He was *good.* Even after hearing him play Phantom, Alastor hadn’t expected him to pick up an improvised duet so easily. Part of that was no doubt thanks to the fact that Alastor himself had been attending improv jam sessions with total strangers for the better part of a century, he knew how to compliment and enhance another player—but this was not jazz, and if Sir Pentious had been terrible even Alastor wouldn’t have been able to cover that up.

But he most certainly was *not* terrible. And Alastor wished he’d picked a longer song.

Sir Pentious

Telly fell into the back and forth of the duet with such an ease that he even started adding flourishes-- unnecessary, yes, but he also wanted to show off for Alastor. And it was for Alastor, every extra movement of his fingers, ever added note and vibrato, they were all for him. Maybe he was putting a little too much passion behind it for being only friends, but caught up as he was, he didn't find it in himself to care about how appropriate or not it was.

Alastor

Alastor was showing off no less. This symphonic style wasn't his forté, he was more of a fiddler than a violinist, but by God did he plan on playing like he did this every night if his afterlife. He'd started the song still seated on the organ bench, but by the end was on his feet, swaying with the music... and if he'd gotten any closer to Sir Pentious, they'd be risking smacking their bows together as they played.

Sir Pentious

The end of the song came, and with a final flourish, he stopped playing. He set the violin on the organ's bench and took a few deep breaths, his face giddy and his body feeling light. Telly laughed a little and took Alastor by his upper arms, grips tight but happy. "That was fun!"

Alastor

The fact that Alastor hadn't put his violin down before his arms were grabbed was probably the only thing saving him from pulling Telly into an embrace and proceeding to ruin everything. He laughed as well, breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurt. "Goodness gracious, you're—you're *good* at that! I can't believe you haven't played a duet since the 1800s! What other talents are you hiding?"

Sir Pentious

In that moment, breathless and smiling and so close, Telly desperately felt the urge to kiss Alastor. The only thing that saved him was Alastor's voice, and he blinked and pulled back a bit, though his hands lingered on his arms.

"Well, you know about the perfume making, I think. And the tea mixing. And now the violin playing...." He ticked them off on his fingers, though he couldn't even play at seriousness. "I'm not sure if there's much else I could surprise you with!"

Alastor

"Hold—hold on, you make your own *perfume*? *Did* I know that? I noticed how often it changes, but I just thought you had a collection!" This was an entirely new discipline as far as he was concerned.

Sir Pentious

"Oh! I guess I can. I could've sworn I told you about that..." He thinks for long moment, head tilted. "Hm, actually I think I told Valera! Apologies, then."

He laughed and turned his wrist towards Alastor's nose, letting him get a whiff of what he was wearing today. "Gardenia and lilac! And yes, I make them myself. Always found that others made floral mixes too strong, decided I'd like something subtler. Florals are my forte, but I can mix most any kind of perfume."

Alastor

Don't mind him as he shuts his eyes and takes a much deeper whiff than necessary, like some kind of creep. "... *Lovely.*" Okay, that was enough lingering. He smiled crookedly. "So, if I wanted to talk to someone about getting some of that gasoline perfume we discussed..." Studio laughter, he's kidding.

Sir Pentious

He laughed as well, giving a shrug. His arm moved from where he'd rested it on Alastor's shoulder to slide around his waist instead. This was fine, right? He'd touched Alastor like this before, it wasn't weird right??

"I could, actually, but gasoline has such a strong smell you'd be better off just dabbing it on by itself!" Another laugh.

Alastor

That was very fine and Alastor was going to immediately tuck the violin and bow under one arm so that he could slide the other around Telly’s shoulders. “Oh, *well* then.” He shrugged. “What’s the point if it doesn’t come in an overpriced fancy little bottle? I’ll stick to the fragrance I’ve got.” (Which was, for the record, a combination of shampoo and body wash that probably had some kind of name like “ocean breeze.” It was a recent change. Probably very faint, since it had been... a bit since he’d showered. Oh god he should have done that before coming over.)

Sir Pentious

Too late, Alastor, you mentioned fragrance and now he's leaning in to Smell. Blelelelele.

"Oh! That's nice. But if you do want another, proper, fancy bottle level fragrance, do let me know. I would love to make some fragrances for you." He grinned, and gave another blelelele that tickled Alastor's cheek. And then he realized he'd just essentially _licked_ Alastor and he sat up straighter. Thank God he couldn't blush.

Alastor

Pay no mind to the way he leaned into the lick. He told himself not to read into it, it was just a snake thing. "I've never been much of a fragrance person, but... I'll keep it in mind. I've got to see you at work on this newest hidden talent of yours sometime, don't I?"

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I think you do! And my tea mixing, but I'm afraid neither are terribly exciting." He gave a shrug.

"Oh yes, the PA system is over there." He pointed across the field of glass still as of yet uncleared.

Alastor

“Right!” That was what they’d been here for. Not music. The music was just a bonus. A beautiful bonus Alastor was going to be thinking about for weeks. “Then shall we?”

He handed off the violin to his shadow so it could stow them both away where they belonged, and let his enthralled souls clear a path to the PA system. He kept one arm around Sir Pentious as they went.

#usedhearts #chat log

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