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sturnswrites · 3 months ago

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the couples menu

bsf!chris x fem!reader

⤳ fluff

⤳ you and chris have been best friends for forever, but after an unexpected comment at your favorite diner, you both start to question how you really feel for each other.

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The diner buzzed with its usual evening crowd, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation creating a comforting background noise. You and Chris had been coming here for years, ever since high school. There was something safe about this place—the worn vinyl booths, the sticky tabletops, the flickering neon sign outside that read “Best Pie in Town.”

Chris sat across from you, lazily stirring his Pepsi with his straw, his head tilted as he listened to you recount the latest chaos from your day.

“And then,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis, “he just walked away! Like he didn’t just spill an entire coffee on me. No apology, no offer to help. Just gone.”

Chris leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “That’s wild. Honestly, I think you scare people sometimes. Maybe he thought you were gonna yell at him.”

“I do not scare people,” you protested, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, you definitely do.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Chris!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got that whole fiery thing going on. It’s intimidating.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they twitched upward.

“Anyway,” he said, leaning forward, “did you at least get a new coffee?”

“Of course. I wasn’t about to let him ruin my day and deprive me of caffeine.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual endearment, but you quickly brushed it off. Chris had always been like this—teasing, affectionate, comfortable. You had been best friends for, well, forever. It didn’t mean anything… right?

Before you could spiral too much, the waitress appeared at your table with a laminated menu. She was probably in her forties, with kind eyes and a warm smile that felt like an invitation to trust her.

“You two are just the cutest,” she said, placing the menu between you.

You blinked, glancing at Chris, who looked equally confused. “Uh, thanks?”

“I thought you might like to see our Couples Special,” she continued, gesturing to the menu. “It’s perfect for lovebirds like you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Couple,” Chris finished quickly, holding up his hands. “We’re not a couple.”

The waitress looked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced, but she just smiled knowingly. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She walked away, leaving you both sitting there in stunned silence.

Chris was the first to break it, a laugh escaping his lips. “Well, that was… something.”

“She thought we were a couple,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Can you blame her? We’re here all the time, we’re laughing, having a great time. We probably do look like a couple.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had been doing lately whenever he was around. “You’re not seriously saying we should just go along with it.”

“I’m saying,” he said, picking up the menu, “ten bucks off dessert isn’t a bad deal.”

“Chris!”

“What? It’s practical. Plus, free dessert.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way of making things light, even when your stomach was doing anxious flips.

The rest of the meal went on mostly as usual, though you couldn’t shake the lingering tension from the waitress’s assumption. Every so often, Chris would catch your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips, like he was amused by the whole situation.

When the bill came, the waitress gave you another warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hope you two have a lovely night.”

Chris thanked her, his voice smooth and easy, but you felt like your face might catch fire.

Outside, the evening air was cool against your flushed skin. You walked side by side toward Chris’s car, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping just short of the car.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the serious look on his face. “What’s up?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting yours. “Can we talk about tonight? The whole ‘couple menu’ thing?”

Your stomach twisted, heart beating faster and faster. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “It just… it got me thinking. About us.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? Like, why does everyone always assume we’re together?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess we spend a lot of time together. People just assume.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I think it’s more than that,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the way we are around each other. We laugh, we tease, we’re comfortable. I don’t blame people for thinking we’re a couple because… sometimes, I think about it too.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. Your voice came down to a whisper from the shock you were feeling. “You… what?”

He sighed, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Years actually. And tonight just made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “Chris…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he rushed on, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just… I had to tell you. Even if it messes things up, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I can’t keep moving on wondering what could be between us.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a confusing mess of shock, joy, and fear. Finally, you took a shaky step forward. “Chris, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I feel the same way. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve tried so hard to move past it because I never wanted it to be the reason that I… lost you.” as you swallowed hard unsure of what he was going to say next.

His eyes widened, hope flickering across his face. “You mean that?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I mean that.”

Relief washed over him, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything,” he murmured into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “If anything, you made it better.”

He smiled, his eyes shining as he leaned his forehead against yours. “So… are we a couple now?”

You grinned, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I guess we are.”

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think I could ever let you go.”

And just like that, everything between you and Chris fell into place, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

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still don’t really know what I’m doing but this was fun to write 😛

⭒ margot

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 9 months ago

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Isaac explained his type to Maya with great details, as Maya asked him to do. Taut model-like physique, hairs on his legs curled up but his upper body smooth with not even a scar, with classic Anglo-Saxon feature that makes the guy can pass as some Victorian era young nobility. His eyes should reflect the depth of his thought and looked like an English pond in the summer, calming and clear. Soft-spoken, matched with his grace and gentle movement that won't ever indicate any sort of danger or threat to anyone that come across him. Isaac wanted his ideal man to be lefty, just because it's unique, and at last, he wanted his man to be fully devoted to him and him only. Maya listened intently while Isaac revealed all that as he's busy typing his work, not even taking a glance to Maya. But once a sultry, manly voice coming out from the bed behind him where Maya supposedly lounged around, Isaac instantly turned around and found himself surprised

"Maya???"

"Well....yes, but not really, as you can see,"

"H---how? W--why? What the fuck is happening here?"

"I enjoyed your company a bit too much. Like, I'm so tired dating these dudes trying to find my Mr. Right when I have an incredibly smart, kind and attentive best friend like you that beat most of those crusty men I dated. So I said, fuck it, I'll be your man,"

"Have you heard how insane that sounded like, and how is this situation totally not something you encountered everyday? Like.....for starter, how the fuck you--"

"It's actually simple. Turns out my family have this kind of power that skipped generations that reemerged with me right after that last eclipse. The said power bestowed us the capacity to change physical form of ourself and the people that we exchanged bodily fluids with. In other words, not only I can change myself, I can change you too since we fucked that one time when we were still sophomore,"

"That....is wild. And I don't want to be involved in any of this. Please just change back, okay?"

"Oh cmon, you literally are having a boner while talking to me now. You like this, you want me, and I definitely want you to be my man. I mean, just imagine how crazy the sex we can have now that I can mold you into any of your wildest dreams too,"

"Maya, no. You are not thinking clear. What the fuck is this desperation? I cannot be your man, and you cannot throw away your life just like that for me. I'll hate myself for that, it makes me feel selfish,"

"Desperation? This is me being kind to you. I cannot help but notice how you've been dating not a single person since we graduated uni. You are certainly lonely so this is me---"

"What is that insane gaslighting you are doing? Stop all of this madness and for fuck sake, change yourself back. It's so jarring looking at you like that. You will always be Maya for me, whatever form you take,"

"No,"

"Okay, whatever. If you want to continue being a nuisance, please sort yourself out. Just.....walk around the neighborhood and clear your mind or something,"

"No,"

"Maya--"

"No, don't call me that! I'm no Maya. Gosh, I hated to do this, but freeze,"

And just like that, Isaac froze in his place with no way of moving a single muscle whatsoever. Then, Maya grabbed Isaac's head and chanted some intelligible words before letting it go as Maya goes back to the bed while waiting for the spell to unleash its full work. Like a breaking ice, Isaac's frozen body started to be able to get back moving and pulsing. It started from the fingertips, that gets thicker and hairier as his finger and both of his hand turned calloused from heavy workout while his feet stretched his wool socks and enlarged to a decent size 13. As blood started flowing once more, the veins in his arm thickened while his legs bursted with muscle and blond hair in an otherwise lanky former runner legs. This built his physique is turning into clearly doesn't belong to a runner. As the pumped blood causing the arm to swole closer to 19 inches, it also affected the shoulder that becomes rounder and sturdier. The long sleeve he worn earlier of course already tattered to pieces while his pants already ripped due to his now incredibly muscular thighs. As the change spread across his neck and torso from the top, his lower body parts perfected itself into a sick v-taper that leads to a snaking 7 inches perfection stuffed into a tight white briefs that left nothing to the imagination. His tiny waist contrasted heavily with his massive back and shoulder, showcasing an insane dedication to his craft which is clearly bodybuilding. When the whole body parts below his neck completed its transformation, he's now a towering 6'6" muscle beast, clearly looking down on most people including the rendered-in-awe Maya. Is this Isaac's deepest desire? Turning into a massive bodybuilder? The power she used on him is to unearth his deepest desire, so having a boulder cannon for a shoulder is clearly part of his deepest desire then? How is his final look going to be? Babyfaced brutal beast? Matured daddy? All will be revealed in the next couple seconds as the transformation move upward

His jaw hardened but his face turned into more square-like, with dirty blonde facial hair framed the angular jawline. From the way his face remained clear and not much visible wrinkle formed, this is definitely a young guy, probably the same age like Isaac's current age, but he can be wrong though. As the lips turned into a smirk, Maya knows that the change is almost complete and that smirk indicated that he enjoys what he sees so far. As Isaac eventually able to move, he's practically no longer Isaac, but an entirely different person altogether. Maya ensured that this new version of Isaac, Maya named him Rod, would be falling head over heels for Maya's new look

"Theo," Rod said in his gruffy voice

Well, that's a good name....

"Why are you not spreading your ass in bed already? You know I have to get back to work later at 1, time is tight so I need to breed inside you ASAP before having my lunch and then get back to work,"

Maya is in shock......Isaac's deepest desire is to be an assertive alpha or something? And it dawned upon Maya, or Theo now, that he cannot acted like brats or said no to Theo's order. Is this part of his desire too????

"You are always one hell of an obedient boy, that's why you're my favorite cum dump. Now say aaaaaa-----

#male transformation #reality change #magic transformation #magic tf #male tf #boyfriend #male muscle growth

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namicakes · 3 months ago

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Hiii Can I ask Levi Ackerman or Megumi Fushiguro who's s/o is their polar opposites?

y'know? their s/o's like extrovert and sunshines and cupcakes while he was like all grays and dullness

Of Shadows & Sunshines.

Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader

Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

Note:( Fluff fic, Levi's in modern au. I kinda indulge myself in this fics because I am someone who loves the odd things in life, a very random person, and a very extrovert fella.)

Fushiguro Megumi

The first time Megumi Fushiguro met Y/N, he was baffled. She was like a burst of sunlight piercing through the gray clouds he’d grown accustomed to—bright, playful, unreserved. And he, well, he was used to shadows, to quiet places and serious thoughts. Y/N was the polar opposite of him, and yet, for reasons he couldn’t fully grasp, her presence felt… comforting.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Megumi, in his typical fashion, was brooding under a tree, book in hand. He wasn’t one to draw attention; in fact, he thrived in the art of going unnoticed. But that day, Y/N happened upon him, her arms full of a dozen shopping bags, her hair wild from the wind, and her smile brighter than the sun itself.

“Oh, hey there!” she said, plopping down beside him without a second thought. She dropped her bags unceremoniously, tilting her head with a curious grin. “What’s with the gloomy vibe? You look like you’re studying the meaning of life.”

Megumi blinked at her, unsure of how to respond. “I’m… just reading.”

She peered over his shoulder, her face lighting up with fascination. “A mystery novel? Oh, I love mysteries! The thrill, the suspense…” she paused, looking him up and down with a teasing glint in her eye. “But you don’t seem like the thrill-seeker type.”

“No,” he said plainly, slightly bewildered by her energy. She seemed to have an endless supply of it, her aura buzzing with liveliness.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence—Megumi reading his book, and Y/N rummaging through her bags. She pulled out a tiny stuffed cat with bright blue eyes and handed it to him with a grin. “Here, I found this in one of those claw machines. I thought you might like it. You know, to balance out all that seriousness.”

Megumi took the stuffed cat reluctantly, feeling the softness of the fabric against his palm. It was strange, yet… oddly charming. “Thanks,” he said, his voice a bit softer.

Y/N beamed at him, and that was how it all started. One little stuffed cat and a sunny afternoon that changed everything.

Y/N was like a whirlwind, sweeping into his life with her boundless energy and unapologetic enthusiasm for the oddest things. She adored colors—her clothes, her notebooks, her accessories, all a riot of hues that seemed to light up any space she entered. Megumi, who preferred a palette of dark blues and blacks, couldn’t understand how someone could wear so much color without feeling overwhelmed. But Y/N carried it effortlessly, as if the vibrancy matched her very soul.

One day, she convinced him to go to an art exhibit with her, an exhibit famous for its interactive, color-splashed displays. At first, Megumi felt out of place, hands in his pockets, trying to look inconspicuous amidst the vivid chaos. But Y/N was in her element, her eyes bright as she pointed out every little detail with such joy, he couldn’t help but be drawn in.

“Look at this one!” she said, tugging his hand toward a wall filled with a hundred tiny mirrors reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. She laughed, taking a photo of their reflections, the playful colors bouncing off their faces.

He found himself smiling despite himself. “You know, I don’t usually do this sort of thing,” he murmured, glancing at her. “But… it’s not terrible.”

Y/N nudged him playfully. “Well, I’ll make a rebel out of you yet, Fushiguro.”

And he couldn’t help but laugh, a soft sound he rarely allowed himself. Y/N had a way of disarming him, of peeling back the layers he’d carefully wrapped around himself, making him forget, just for a moment, that the world was anything but bright.

It wasn’t just her color or her brightness that made Megumi fall in love with her. It was the way she saw beauty in the smallest things, the way she embraced life with such vigor and joy that he couldn’t look away.

She loved taking pictures of odd things—a lone dandelion on the sidewalk, raindrops on a spiderweb, or even his frowning face whenever he realized she was snapping a candid shot of him. “You always look so serious!” she’d tease, giggling at his usual scowl.

But it was in those small moments that Megumi began to understand just how much she meant to him. He realized that he loved the way she noticed the beauty in what others overlooked. She’d sit for ages, watching a butterfly in flight or admiring a colorful storefront display, talking excitedly about things he never would have given a second thought to.

He loved the way she’d burst into laughter over silly jokes, or how she’d pull him along on spontaneous adventures—like the time she convinced him to go stargazing. They’d ended up lying in the grass, looking up at the night sky as she pointed out constellations, her voice full of wonder.

“You see that one?” she whispered, pointing. “The one that looks like a heart?”

He followed her gaze, though all he could see were scattered stars. “I think that’s just wishful thinking, Y/N.”

She laughed softly, rolling onto her side to face him. “You’re probably right. But sometimes, wishful thinking is enough.”

Megumi met her gaze, his heart beating a little faster. Maybe, he thought, wishful thinking was enough for him too.

As their relationship grew, they found a unique balance—a harmony between his steady calm and her effervescent joy. Megumi grounded her, gave her a safe space to rest, a place where she didn’t have to be endlessly cheerful or “on.” And she, in turn, brought him to life, her vibrant energy weaving color into the otherwise gray world he lived in.

She’d bring him gifts—little trinkets and silly souvenirs from her adventures. One day, she handed him a small snow globe with a tiny fox inside. “To keep you company,” she said with a grin. “Since you seem to like foxes.”

He didn’t tell her that it was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him, nor that he kept it by his bedside, where he could see it each morning.

Their dates were simple but memorable—picnics in the park, late-night walks through the city, or quiet afternoons where she’d curl up beside him with a book of her own, her head resting on his shoulder. They didn’t need words; just being together, feeling each other’s presence, was enough.

But there were also days when he’d let her into his world—the quieter, shadowed corners he often kept hidden. When he had nightmares, she was there, stroking his hair, whispering reassurances, her gentle presence a balm for his troubled mind.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know,” she’d say, her voice soft but unwavering. “I’m here for you.”

And he knew she meant it. For the first time in his life, he had someone he could rely on, someone who loved him without conditions, without fear.

Their life together became a beautiful mix of contrasts—a blending of shadows and light, of quiet strength and boundless joy. Their apartment was a reflection of them, filled with small reminders of their adventures together. Y/N’s colorful plants filled the corners, while Megumi’s books lined the shelves, an odd yet perfect combination of their worlds.

She still teased him endlessly, sneaking little notes into his pockets, drawing funny doodles on his calendar, and taking candid photos of him whenever he wasn’t paying attention. But he didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it—every bit of it. Her presence softened his edges, brightened the darker parts of his life, and filled his heart with a warmth he hadn’t thought he could feel.

One evening, as they lay together on the couch, Y/N’s head resting on his chest, Megumi felt a rare surge of contentment, a peace he’d only ever found in her presence. He looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” she asked, glancing up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Nothing,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her a little tighter. “Just… I love you.”

Her smile grew, lighting up her entire face. “I love you too, Mr. Gloomy.”

And as they lay together, surrounded by the life they had built, Megumi knew he’d found something precious, something he would hold onto forever—a light that would guide him through any shadow, a love that was both his strength and his joy.

Levi Ackerman

In a world where cold grays and muted tones painted the backdrop of Levi Ackerman's life, she was an unexpected burst of color. Y/N was a bouquet of pastels in a sea of monochrome, a song hummed under her breath in a silent room, a gentle chaos he could never have imagined wanting to keep close. But that was the irony of it, wasn’t it? Levi Ackerman, the man who could navigate the darkest corners without a stumble, fell in love with the bright, unabashed spirit of Y/N.

Levi met her on a rainy day, a day where the world felt as if it were washed out, color leached by the storm. He was finishing a particularly long shift, rain dripping from his dark coat as he ducked into a quiet cafe, hoping for a moment’s reprieve. But as he stepped in, he was met with the sight of her—a girl leaning against the counter, umbrella in hand, with a pink raincoat and matching rubber boots, every bit as bright and out of place as he was dark and muted.

She was taking a picture of her coffee cup, her phone angled just so, a soft smile on her face as she seemed to capture something only she could see. Levi found himself oddly captivated by the sight. There was a warmth in her gaze, a gentle energy, and before he even realized it, he’d spent the next fifteen minutes watching her in silence.

When she finally looked up, her eyes locked with his, and she gave him a small, inviting smile. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Levi felt his heart skip, just once.

It was enough.

The days that followed found him gravitating toward the places she loved—quiet cafes, local markets, small parks where she would sit on a pastel pink blanket, taking pictures of the flowers. Levi, ever the silent observer, watched from the edges, trying to puzzle her out, trying to understand what it was about her that fascinated him so.

They were opposites in every sense. Levi’s life was built on efficiency, on order. His apartment was a fortress of monochrome, clean and spartan, with barely a trace of warmth. And yet, somehow, he found himself drawn to Y/N’s world, one brimming with pastel colors and playful chaos.

She collected toys—small trinkets and dolls that Levi, at first, thought were the very definition of clutter. But when he saw her arranging them with care, dusting them off one by one, he realized there was something almost reverent about the way she held them. Each toy had a story, a place in her world, and he began to see them through her eyes—not as clutter, but as pieces of her heart, each one filled with a unique charm.

It was the first time Levi had seen beauty in something so seemingly pointless.

One day, after much consideration, he found himself at her doorstep, a small teddy bear in his hand. It was simple and gray, a gentle compromise between their worlds, but when he handed it to her, her eyes lit up with a joy that left him breathless. She hugged it to her chest, then hugged him, and Levi knew he was lost.

Their relationship became a blend of contradictions—a careful balance of shadows and pastels, of Levi’s quiet intensity and Y/N’s playful energy. Her apartment, with its walls adorned in light pink and delicate fairy lights, became a sanctuary he never expected to find himself in. Every time he stepped inside, he felt a strange sense of calm, a warmth that wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

She loved taking pictures, capturing the odd moments in life that most people overlooked. Levi, who could barely stand being in a photo, found himself becoming her favorite subject. She’d catch him in quiet moments—pouring tea, gazing out the window, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of her hair. At first, he’d grumble, scowl even, but she’d only laugh, assuring him that one day he’d see the beauty she saw.

And, over time, he did.

He began to cherish the photos she took, even the silly ones. They were moments of joy captured in small frames—snapshots of a life he hadn’t known he wanted. His heart softened with each one, the edges of his world brightened by her light.

Their relationship grew like a secret garden, each moment a petal, each memory a vine that intertwined their lives. Levi loved the mornings spent in her little haven, the scent of her flowery perfume lingering in the air as she prepared coffee for them both. They would sit together, he with his stoic silence and she with her gentle chatter, filling the spaces he couldn’t.

There was no singular moment when he realized he loved her. It happened gradually, like ink seeping into fabric, coloring everything from the inside out. He fell in love with her laughter, with the way she looked at the world with such unyielding optimism. He fell in love with the way she respected his need for silence, but filled it with a warmth he never knew he’d craved.

Her kindness was like a balm, softening the edges of his heart, filling the cracks with a love he hadn’t thought he deserved. She’d bring him tiny gifts, odd trinkets that she thought he’d find amusing—a small cactus for his windowsill, a bookmark with a quote she thought he’d like, a little keychain of a cleaning bottle she’d said “looked like him.” He never thought he’d enjoy receiving such things, yet they became treasures he kept close.

Every time he felt himself falling deeper, Y/N’s world caught him. And he let himself fall.

Living with her was both chaotic and beautifully simple. Her room was a symphony of pink and white, organized yet vibrant, decorated with soft pillows and delicate trinkets, each one meticulously placed. Levi, always the neat freak, never thought he’d be comfortable surrounded by so much color, yet he found himself helping her dust her toy collection, or adjust the fairy lights she adored. He was meticulous, she was creative, and together, they created a harmony that made him feel alive.

He loved watching her take pictures, capturing the fleeting beauty of life’s smallest moments—a flower, a butterfly, his own hand reaching for her. Sometimes, she’d hand him her phone and ask him to take a picture of her with a new toy, her eyes shining with delight. He’d grumble about it, but she knew he’d do anything for her.

Their worlds merged seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. She brought light into his life, softening the harsh edges, while he grounded her, his quiet strength a constant she could always rely on. She showed him that love didn’t have to be loud, didn’t have to shout to be real—it could be found in quiet moments, in shared silences, in the warmth of a pink-hued room filled with laughter and warmth.

One evening, as they sat together in her room, her head resting on his shoulder, Levi looked around at the pink walls, the fairy lights casting a soft glow, her toy collection carefully arranged on the shelves. And he realized that this was his home now, not the empty apartment he used to live in. Y/N was his home.

With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he whispered the words he’d held inside for too long. “I love you, Y/N.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide, a smile blossoming on her lips. “I love you too, Levi. Even if you are a bit of a neat freak.”

And as she laughed, her voice filling the room, Levi felt something he hadn’t felt in years: a sense of peace, a certainty that this was where he was meant to be. In a world softened by pastels, his shadows finally felt at rest.

Levi Ackerman, the man who had spent his life in shades of gray, had found his heart painted in hues of pink. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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project-sonadow · 11 months ago

Text

happy hour drabble # 2

Sonic had been dragging his feet all day. It was Monday again, which meant there wasn't much to do at Speedy's. Count the change, polish his roller skates, clean the fryers. That was his routine. By the end of his shift, it felt like there were lead blocks stuffed in his socks.

One of his coworkers gave him a strange look when he hung up his hat. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," the girl replied. For some reason, her eyes looked sad. "Get some rest tonight, won't you, Arthur? We can't have you calling out; you're our best skater!"

Sonic raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask what she meant by that, she disappeared out the back door. Though her voice was muffled now, he could still make out her last request: "And don't forget to lock up!"

Rolling his eyes, Sonic twirled the keys in between his fingers and shook his head. This wasn't his first rodeo! After switching out his skates for his regular, non-wheeled shoes, he left the restaurant with his laces still untied. The door closed behind him, and he locked it with a soft click.

Shadow was waiting for him in his usual spot. The headlights on Shadow's motorcycle illuminated the dark parking lot with warm yellow light, and its engine filled the air with a weighty hum. Sonic hopped onto the back of the bike in one swift motion, and then wrapped his arms around Shadow’s waist like he'd been waiting to do it all day.

"No detours tonight," Sonic said. "I'm bushed!"

Shadow glanced back over his shoulder and was greeted by a mess of wild brown-and-blue quills. "Fine," he said. "That disaster you call a coat would give us away in an instant. Save your strength so I can fix it before bed."

If Sonic replied, it was drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle's engine as it roared to life. Sonic rested his head against Shadow's shoulder as the dark hedgehog drove them back to their apartment. The cool air felt nice against Sonic's fur as the wind whipped through it.

Soon, they arrived. Shadow parked the motorcycle in front of their apartment building before the two of them got off. Only then, under the bright white streetlights, did Shadow see the red flush on Sonic's cheeks. Without so much as a word, Shadow stepped forward and pressed the back of his hand against Sonic's forehead.

"Uh?" Sonic blinked. "Sh-- Lance? What're you...?"

Shadow dropped his hand from Sonic's forehead. "You're burning up," he said matter-of-factly. Then, he took Sonic's hand. "Come. Let's go inside."

Sonic let Shadow lead him up the stairs as he processed what he'd just said. "Wait," Sonic said as Shadow pushed open the door to their apartment. "I'm sick? But it's Monday!"

"Correct."

After both of them were inside the apartment, Shadow shut the door. Now, Sonic's face was screwed up like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. "That doesn't make any sense," Sonic was saying. "I wasn't sick last Monday, or last last Monday, or--"

Shadow interrupted, "It's possible our minds aren't the only things that remain intact throughout time."

Sonic frowned, "So, someone's germs from the last loop are making me sick in this one?" He paused to think about that for a second. "That's not good, dude. That means..."

"Any consequences will persist regardless of our current place in time," Shadow finished. He was frowning now, too.

"Great," Sonic said, even though nothing about this was great. "Well, there goes my Plan A."

"And what was that?"

Sonic grinned, "'Run straight at the bad guy and hope for the best'!"

Shadow pursed his lips and sighed. Loudly. With agitation. "That's always your plan."

Sonic opened his mouth to reply, but a sneeze cut off whatever snarky remark he had prepared. His grin faded as he remembered how tired he was. Talk about a buzzkill! Next time he saw Tails, he'd have to ask him to make a shrink ray, so he could fight off germs with his fists.

Shadow shook his head as he watched Sonic's ears droop. "Go. Sit," he said. "I'll take it from here."

Sonic wanted to argue, but Shadow’s stern brown eyes made him feel funny. “Whatever,” Sonic muttered as he averted his gaze. “Just don’t take too long. I can’t promise I’ll stick around if you do!”

In truth, Sonic wasn’t going anywhere. Now that he was free from the constraints of his 9 to 5, and the horrors of capitalism were held back by the immutable strength of their apartment door, he was left with nothing to distract him from his fever. He shuffled into the bathroom and plopped down on the stool, waiting for Shadow to come in with the dye.

He sniffled. His bones hurt. He scratched his head, irritated. This never would’ve happened to world famous superhero, Sonic the Hedgehog. It was only because he was disguised as some random punk that he’d gotten sick.

“I seem to remember your fox friend recounting a tale to the contrary,” Shadow suddenly said. He’d appeared in the doorway, dye in hand. “Something about you and Arabian Nights…?”

Sonic waved his hand. “That was different,” he said.

Shadow popped the lid off a bottle of brown dye. “Oh? Is that so?”

Huffing indignantly, Sonic replied, “Yeah. That time, my worst enemy was a super powerful genie. This time, it’s customers!”

Shadow lowered his head. Sonic could’ve sworn he saw him smile. “Hold still,” Shadow said, his hands freshly gloved up and covered in dye. “I’ll be quick.”

Regardless of the truth of that statement, Sonic was physically, mentally, and emotionally incapable of holding still. He tried. Of course, he didn’t want to squirm around like a worm in the rain. But he couldn’t help it! Just like he couldn’t help but tap his foot against the linoleum, his claws clack-clack-clacking against the tile as he did so. That was, until one of Shadow’s hands moved to the back of Sonic’s left ear, and Sonic froze.

Sonic felt Shadow rub the dye into his fur. He felt his claws brush gently against the softest part of his ear. And Sonic stopped thinking about how lame it was to be sick. He didn’t worry about holding still. His heart fluttered in his chest and his eyes closed, totally focused on how good it felt to have Shadow’s fingers in his fur.

Shadow paused, having noticed the strange shift in Sonic’s behavior. But there was no time for him to lean forward and investigate, because a gentle pressure was now pushing against the palm of his hand, urging him to continue.

It was Sonic, leaning into Shadow’s touch.

Shadow nearly choked, but he managed to keep his composure. He isn’t feeling well, Shadow reminded himself. That’s all this was.

And yet, when Shadow resumed styling Sonic’s quills, he wasn’t thinking about covering up all the blue spots anymore. Instead, he focused his attention on just that one spot behind Sonic’s ear. He didn’t know why. Maybe he pitied Sonic. As the Ultimate Lifeform, he would never know how it felt to be ill.

Sonic leaned deeper into Shadow’s touch. His tense shoulders relaxed. His job, their mission, the time loop–none of that mattered anymore. Somewhere inside his chest, next to his heart, a soft rumbling began. Purring.

Sonic was purring.

Abruptly, Shadow stood. He turned away from Sonic, so he didn’t see him blink his eyes open sleepily.

“Shadow…?”

“That’s all for now,” Shadow said stiffly. “Count yourself lucky. If not for your… illness… you would’ve been sitting there for much longer.”

And then he exited the bathroom, leaving Sonic sitting there as the last of his purrs quietly faded away.

#project writes #sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgheog #happy hour au #hehe :)c

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vodika-vibes · 5 months ago

Note

Happy 500!

I would request a sapphire with Rex in autumn, a season of change, Rebels Era time frame.

Thank you!

Forever Is A Long Time

Summary: Years after the end of the Clone Wars, you and Rex have managed to make a life for yourselves on your grandparent's old farm. Autumn always brings its own challenges, but that’s not always a bad thing.

Pairing: Rebels!Rex x Former Jedi GN! Reader

Word Count: 934

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. You have been warned.

Prompt: Sapphire - Wise Love

A/N: Full honesty, I've never seen Rebels, so I decided to play around with everything. I hope you like it!

You think you love autumn.

You love how the world bursts into a wild array of colors, how the miserable summer heat settles into something tolerable, and how everything is pumpkin or apple-flavored.

Lazily, you stretch your arms over your head, able to feel Rex’s shirt creep up your thighs as you reach up, though it falls back into place as your arms fall back to your side.

Speaking of Rex, where is he?

You turn your head away from the window that looks out at the orchard, to focus your attention deeper into your home. He hasn’t gone outside yet, though you know that he plans to work on his speeder today. Your handsome Captain seems to think that having a working speeder will make the harvest easier.

And he’s right, it will.

But you’re not going to tell him that.

“Rex?”

“Back here, mesh’la!” He calls from the back of the house.

Curiously, you push away from the kitchen counter and follow his voice through the halls until you reach the back hallway which leads to the mudroom.

“What are you doing?” You ask as you settle on the bench that was built into the wall, your head tilting to the side as you try to figure out what, exactly, he’s working on.

He glances at you, a grin on his face, “What? You can’t tell?”

You scrunch up your nose at him, and then glance at his project. It’s some kind of electronic device, based on what you can see. But what you don’t know about computers and mechanics could probably fill several archives. “I give up.”

“You didn’t even make a guess, cyare.” His voice is dancing with amusement, and you make a face at him.

“Oh, I dunno…Is it a comm?”

“Close, but no.” Rex focuses on it for a moment longer, snapping a few pieces together, “It’s the old radio that your brother gave you.”

“The radio he broke in a fit of temper? That radio?”

“The very same.”

“Huh.” You move off the bench so you’re able to lean on Rex’s shoulder to peer at his project, “Why are you fixing it?”

“Because it was broken,” He replies simply.

You nudge him gently, “Come on, Rex. It’s been broken for years.”

He glances at you and then sets his tools on the ground so he’s able to tug you onto his lap. You release a startled noise as he settles you comfortably on his lap and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

His dark eyes scan your face, and you aren’t able to stifle your soft giggle as you reach up and press your hands against his cheeks, your fingers gently brushing his beard.

Rex’s eyes crinkle with the strength of his smile, and his arms tighten around you, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” You reply, grinning widely.

He tugs you into a gentle kiss that turns into several gentle kisses, pulling even more delighted laughter from you. When he kisses you like this, you feel like you’re back at the start of your relationship, all those years ago. When he was a Clone Captain, and you were an Archivist at the Jedi Temple.

“I saw you looking at the radio the other day,” Rex says lightly, “So I decided to fix it.”

“You did?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “What? You think after all these years I can’t tell what you’re thinking?” Rex teases lightly.

“Of course you do,” You murmur in turn. “I was considering throwing it away, though.”

“Well, now there’s no need.”

“Rex,” His name is a laugh, “We have so much stuff.”

“Well, seeing as neither of us had any stuff when we were younger, I think we have just enough.” He adjusts you on his lap and focuses his attention on the radio again, snapping a few more pieces back together, before putting the whole radio together and standing it up.

And then he flips the power switch, and soft music fills the hallway.

Familiar music.

You recognize the tune immediately, it's the song that was playing the day that Rex confessed to you. The song that was playing when he proposed. The song that you danced your first dance to.

“Well now,” Rex grins at you, “Seems like fate.” Gently he nudges you to your feet and then stands up to tug you into his arms. “May I have this dance?”

You beam at him, “You can have all of them.”

He spins you in the narrow hallway, before pulling you flush against him. His expression is soft and warm and for you and you alone.

“Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs as the pair of you sway to the soft music, “Is this what you expected from life?”

“No, I didn’t.” You snake your arms around his neck, “But this is so much better than I expected.”

“That right?”

“I’ll spend forever in your arms,” You whisper to him.

Rex chuckles, “Forever is a long time, cyare.”

“And I’ll happily spend every minute of it with you.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, “You spoil this old clone.”

“Well, someone has to.” You reply against his lips.

His grip tightens around your hips, “Do we have plans for today, cyar’ika?”

“Nothing that can’t be put off for a couple of hours.”

“Good.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing, and then carries you into your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him as your giggles fill the home you built with Rex.

Forever might be a long time, but in your opinion, it’s not nearly long enough.

@bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

#star wars #star wars rebels #vodika-vibes 500 event #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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lunarubra · 3 months ago

Text

Tommy Shelby x Jaseh Jesus

The familiar scent of herbs, tonics, and flowers enveloped him the moment the bell above the door chimed, announcing his entry. It struck him like a memory made tangible—sharp, alive, and unrelenting. Since returning from the war, he had avoided this part of the suburbs. Once, he had known it as intimately as his own heartbeat, every stone and shadowed alley etched into his mind. Back then, he could have navigated it blindfolded, when the world still felt certain.

In the haze of opium or the pit of his lowest moments, his feet had nearly carried him here more than once. Each time, some primal part of him would snap awake, dragging him back to Small Heath—the only place that felt safe, even if it wasn’t. Alum Rock was a chapter he had sealed shut, or so he told himself. And yet, here he was, standing at its threshold, the air thick with a fragrance that felt like both a balm and a wound.

The woman behind the counter was busy tending to an older customer and didn’t spare him a glance. It was as though she sensed his presence and dismissed it, deeming him unworthy of her attention. She hadn’t changed—or perhaps she had, but not in any way that softened the sting or stopped his heart from skipping a beat.

Her unruly curls were shorter now, though still as wild as he remembered, only more carefully tamed. She wore one of her signature dungarees, pockets bulging with the odd collection of treasures she always carried: herbs picked on her way, spare coins for beggars, and he was sure there was also her trusty pocket knife he had taught her how to use.

“Twice a day, Mrs. Smith—once in the mornin’, just as you wake, and again at night afore you settle,” she said, her voice steady and clear.

That voice stopped him in his tracks, freezing him in place as though under a spell. It was both achingly familiar and strangely foreign, like an old tune he’d forgotten or the soothing touch of a balm he’d long needed but stubbornly avoided.

“Thank you, dear. God bless you,” the older woman said, her voice heavy with gratitude as she gathered the remedy and laid down a few coins. The payment was swept into the till with practised ease.

“Now don’t forget, Mrs. Smith,” she replied kindly, “come back in a few days, and we’ll see if that cough’s eased up. And take things slow—rest as much as you can.”

The older woman nodded, murmured her goodbyes, and shuffled out, deliberately avoiding his gaze. He wondered if she, too, sensed the tension in the air, the kind that clung to old wounds and refused to heal. She slipped past him as though unwilling to disturb the fragile moment, and in her absence, silence settled over the shop.

Still, he couldn’t draw her attention. It was as if she, too, wanted to delay this moment, the same moment he had evaded for years. Perhaps she couldn’t face him either, unwilling to touch a wound that had never truly scarred over.

He stepped to the counter, feeling the air grow heavier between them. She didn’t turn. Instead, she kept her back to him, busily tending to the shelves lined with jars of herbs, seeds, and strange things he still couldn’t name or understand.

Under his gaze, he saw her back stiffen, her shoulders tensing as though she felt the weight of his presence. Then, slowly, she let out a sigh—soft, resigned, inevitable. When she turned to face him at last, her expression was unreadable, but her voice carried the weight of years.

“Hello, Thomas.”

“Hello, Jasie.”

I wanted to share this little snippet from the first chapter with you all! It’s going to be a while before I publish anything since I plan to finish writing the entire first part first. But I’m already in love with this new OC and couldn’t wait to introduce her. Feel free to let me know what you think with a comment or a reblog!

#jaseh jesus x tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 7 months ago

Text

Aftermath au: Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual.

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…”

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before.

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…”

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy.

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question.

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying.

“What’s going on?

Not going to believe what?

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor.

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?”

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?”

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes.

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation.

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat.

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

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dan-the-womans-blog · 7 months ago

Note

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Hi! Could you please write a Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher one-shot with a mix of fluff and angst? I'd love a story where the reader has been friends with Billy and Stu since childhood and has always been the glue holding them together. Despite the chaos of high school and the mounting tension in Woodsboro, the reader has managed to keep a sense of normalcy and happiness in their trio.

However, the reader starts noticing disturbing changes in Billy and Stu's behavior—late-night disappearances, strange conversations, and an unsettling intensity in their eyes. The reader confronts them, leading to a heated argument where dark secrets are revealed. In the aftermath, the reader is torn between the fear of their actions and the deep bond they share.

The angst peaks when the reader decides to distance themselves, hoping to find clarity and safety. But Billy and Stu, realizing how much they need the reader, come up with a plan to win back their trust and prove their loyalty.

I'd love to see a blend of intense, emotional scenes with moments of tenderness and vulnerability. How does the reader navigate their fear and love for Billy and Stu? And how do Billy and Stu cope with the possibility of losing the one person who truly understands them?

Thank you so much!

---

Of course i can write this for you anon, i love writing ansgty stuff, i live for it, i hope it is up to standard!

Title: Haunted Hearts and Healing Shadows

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The old, creaking playground echoed with laughter that had long since faded, now replaced by the whispers of autumn leaves. You, Billy, and Stu had grown up here, your friendship forged in the crucible of scraped knees and shared secrets. This playground, once a sanctuary of childhood innocence, now stood as a silent witness to the tangled web of your lives. From carefree days to the tumultuous years of high school, you had been the glue holding your trio together. But lately, the edges of that bond had started to fray, and an unsettling darkness loomed over your once inseparable friendship.

High school in Woodsboro had its own set of challenges, but you had always found solace in the company of Billy and Stu. Your dynamic had always been unique—Billy with his brooding intensity, Stu with his wild charisma, and you, the calming presence that balanced their extremes. Together, you managed to create a bubble of normalcy amidst the chaos of adolescence. However, as senior year progressed, the changes in Billy and Stu became harder to ignore.

Billy's eyes, once filled with a deep, contemplative warmth, now held a flicker of something darker, something you couldn't quite place. Stu, ever the life of the party, had begun to wear his manic energy like a mask, his laughter sounding more forced, more desperate. They started disappearing at odd hours, their conversations becoming hushed and secretive. You told yourself it was just the stress of impending adulthood, but the pit in your stomach suggested otherwise.

One night, after a particularly tense evening at Stu's house, you couldn't take it anymore. The air crackled with unspoken words as you confronted them in the dimly lit basement. "What's going on with you two?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it's not."

Billy and Stu exchanged a glance, a silent communication that only deepened your unease. "You wouldn't understand," Billy finally said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Try me," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

The floodgates opened. Dark secrets spilled forth—tales of manipulation, of violence, of a thrill that transcended the normal teenage rebellion. Billy's voice was cold, detached as he spoke of their actions, while Stu's eyes flickered with a twisted excitement. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down as the weight of their revelations crushed you.

"You did this?" you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "How could you—how could you involve me in this?"

Billy stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "We did it for us, to protect what we have. Can't you see that?"

The words hung heavy in the air, a cruel irony. They had done this for you, for the bond you shared, yet it was that very bond that now felt tainted, corrupted by their actions. You stumbled out of the basement, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You needed distance, space to process the horrors they had confessed.

The days that followed were a blur. You distanced yourself, seeking refuge in the familiar yet now alien corners of Woodsboro. You grappled with your feelings, torn between the love you had for Billy and Stu and the fear of what they had become. Nights were the hardest, the shadows in your room a stark reminder of the darkness lurking in your friends.

Billy and Stu, for their part, struggled in your absence. Billy's stoic exterior cracked, revealing a vulnerability you had rarely seen. Stu, usually so effervescent, became subdued, his manic energy replaced with a hollow emptiness. They realized, perhaps too late, just how much you meant to them—how integral you were to their very existence.

Desperate to win back your trust, they devised a plan. It wasn't grand or elaborate, but it was heartfelt. They showed up at your house one evening, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear. "We need to talk," Billy said softly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

You let them in, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. They apologized—not just for their actions, but for the pain they had caused you. They spoke of their need for you, how you were the light that kept their darkness at bay. Billy's hand trembled as he reached for yours, while Stu's eyes, filled with a rare sincerity, mirrored your own turmoil.

Tears flowed freely as you listened, your heart aching with the weight of their confessions. You could see their vulnerability, the cracks in their carefully constructed facades. They weren't asking for forgiveness, not entirely; they were asking for a chance to make things right.

In that moment, you realized that despite everything, you still cared deeply for them. The bond you shared, though damaged, was not beyond repair. You agreed to give them another chance, but with conditions—honesty, transparency, and the understanding that they needed to seek help.

The path to healing was not easy. There were nights filled with nightmares and days of strained silence. But there were also moments of tenderness, of genuine connection that reminded you of why you had loved them in the first place. You saw glimpses of the boys you had grown up with, buried beneath the layers of pain and darkness.

The resolution was not a fairytale ending, but it was realistic. You forgave, but you didn't forget. Trust was rebuilt slowly, brick by brick, as you navigated the complexities of your relationship. And while the shadows of Woodsboro still loomed large, you found solace in the small moments of light—those fleeting instances of happiness that reminded you of the strength of your bond.

In the end, your discovery was a testament to the resilience of love and friendship. It was a demonstration of navigating the fine line between fear and forgiveness, of finding hope in the darkest of places. And as you stood between Billy and Stu, their hands in yours, you knew that while the road ahead was uncertain, you would face it together, bound by the shared shadows of your past and the healing light of your future.

Leave a note if you'd like, it doesnt really matter how, if not thats fine too!😊

#scream franchise #scream #scream 1996 #scream movie #billy loomis #stu macher #scream angst #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis angst #stu macher angst #idk what else to tag #scream fanfic #scream fandom #scream fanfiction

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cookiesupplier · 8 months ago

Text

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Forty-Four

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd as usual, enjoy!

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @faceless-mirror @missduffsblog @tamtam-elizabeth @witchyweeb34 @tearfallpixie

@wild-child-7747 @shilohrosechicken @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @embracethereaper42 @emmmm127

@sunsshinesunny @spicywhenspeaking @dontdiganothergravetoday

If you would like to be added to this tag list please see THIS FORM

Their drive to their next destination was just as full of laughter, this time less about their day, and more devoted to Ricky surrounding his argument that he couldn’t possibly be vegan anything, thank you very much. He ate far too much meat, it just wouldn’t work. That was about the time that Talia decided that if they were going to be testing her tonight, it was about time she could try to test them just a little bit too, and she was going to. That was where the remark came from next, she was sure.

“Well, Rick, if you aren’t vegan anything, how could Chris possible get to enjoy eating you then.”

Looking out the window so calmly with a little knowing smile as her tattoo flared, whether the origin was Chris, or Ricky, who could say. The silence in the car, aside the traffic they were driving through, was telling as far as she was concerned, she very much had their attention dying down from the laughter and the jokes.

“We both know Spookie wants to swallow something.”

She only glanced over to Ricky then when she heard the choked sound in the back seat.. Giggling slightly, Chris having not expected that.. Obviously. Perfect. If she thought she was able to catch both of them out, however, she seemed to have to think again with the mischievous look in Ricky’s eyes as he pulled up to a set of lights. As he focused on her at that moment, the smirk on his lips,

“Oh, Sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the only one that wants to swallow, desperately.”

Damn you, Richard Olson. Mostly because as she felt her tattoo tingle again, she knew they likely both felt it too. Talia could only console herself that it had also flared up before, but it didn’t change the fact that it had given her away, just as it did them. She longed for the days when the only tip off to give herself away was the state of her face. With how warm her skin felt, she felt like she might as well be lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Bright and ruby red, she didn’t have a doubt about it. Though, with Chris sitting behind her, and Ricky had to pull his eyes back into the road as they started driving away, she had some reprieve from them looking right at her.

They didn’t have much further to go after Talia tried to tease them, Ricky was sure she was probably a bit grateful for that, or miserable as she didn’t have a lot of time to calm down. Either way, Ricky was pulling the car into a small little park with other vehicles.

“No, way, really Ricky?”

That was what he got from Chris in the back seat when he saw where they were, and Rick just grinned wide,

“Why not, trust me, just trust me.”

Ricky climbed out of his seat and got out of the car, walking around the front quickly to get to Talia’s door so he could help her out. Yes, yes he was aware she could get out of a car just fine on her own, but now he would admit, he wanted to see her reaction. That was what was going to seal the deal whether this place was going to be a good idea.

Mini-Golf.

She did a double take, her eyes going a little wide before she looked at him, a bit quizzical.

“You aren’t friends with me on my socials, and I made them private after Grace’s live, how have you been stalking my accounts…”

Smiling a little.. Before then, they both said at the same time, him confirming her guess,

“Ava.”

He had been attempting to try and figure out something fun to do, and he wanted it to be fun, not just sit around boring, so, of course, he wanted it to be special to them as people. They could do hang out, other days normally, but there was something about a first date you just wanted to remember… and with Talia, Ricky had so much to make up for.

“I asked her for help, however I didn’t want her to just tell me where to go. I just wanted her to give me a guide, so, she sent me to your personal Insta, and this, this, was what I came up with.”

Ricky sighed as he glanced towards the building behind her, it was an indoor mini-golf course, admittedly specifically designed to play at night. Black Light Mini-Golf, his hope was it was exciting, and different enough that she wouldn’t be triggered, and still enjoyable for her. As he turned back to Talia now,

“I know you used to love it, and I know your family ruined it for you. You deserve to have fun memories again, Sweetheart, but if you say the word, I’ve already looked it up, there is a movie in the park event tonight that is going to start soon. I have some blankets, we can all snuggle up and have a fine time.”

He didn’t want to pressure her into playing. Ricky had seen the way she talked about the wonderful memories she used to have about mini-golf, how she’d played with her grandmother before she passed, and then how after she did her family had just destroyed everything about it. Every chance they got, it had turned into a mockery, and they’d turned into something, pathetic, and cruel towards her. Ricky thought it was about time it became fun for her again.

Holding his breath as she looked into his eyes, Ricky for the life of him couldn’t tell how she felt about his choice. Whether she was upset, about to scream and cry, or whether she was overjoyed, she just was looking at him for a long moment. As much as he wanted her to be happy, really, what he wanted was her to be safe, and okay. If what made her happy the most was for them to leave this very moment and never come back here, he’d do it, in a heart beat. He’d fucked up enough already with her, he didn’t want to keep going,

“Talia, I-”

Next thing he knew, she was stepping closer to him, and pressing her lips gently to his cheek, with the softest whisper,

“It’s perfect, thank you, Ricky.”

As she leaned back then, she had this shy smile on her lips, and he could just tell she was biting the inside of her lip. It made him want to reach up and pull her lip from her teeth and kiss her properly, not some kiss on the cheek, but he swallowed, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t. He knew that he’d only get all kind of distracted if he did, and the whole rest of their night would be derailed. As much as he was sure that Chris probably wouldn’t mind the detour either, at all, Ricky meant it, what he said, Talia deserved those fun memories again.

“Alright, Sweetheart, come on then, let’s go get our putt putt on.” Ricky reached to take her hand, smiled to her before glancing to Chris, raising an eyebrow, grinning as he got the picture when he took her other hand in his so they could all head into the building together. Once they were inside, Ricky paid, already calling ahead and making sure it would be fine if they just turned up and didn’t need to book. Seemed, as long as they weren’t a massive party, and they didn’t have to provide catering of any kind, they were free to roam. Sure enough, they headed out to the course.

Talia absolutely lit up at everything in the course, giggling like crazy as they played through the different holes in the course. It was such a silly little thing, and she couldn’t explain why she felt so giddy right then, but she did. It wasn’t just that she was here, but who she was with. That were having a completely wonderful time, she, was having a completely wonderful time. From the deranged looking clown under the black lights, to the freaky looking dinosaurs, and then there was the iconic windmill that you couldn’t forget.

Just because they were inside, didn’t mean you could forget the windmill, it was always electric powered anyway. Not to mention, the black light effect made the colours blur like streaks of neon paint in the air as the turbines blades spun even more dizzying. As she stood at her ball, biting her lip, she felt hands curl around her hips, causing her to shiver, especially with the way she’d semi hiked up the skirt of her dress. She didn’t know who it was at first until he was leaning against her back, leaning close and whispering low against her ear,

“Be sure not to miss, JellyBean.”

She didn’t mean to, but the low timber of his voice had a roughness to it, and in the semi-darkness, even with all the bright colours around, it had just the most distinct effect. The tiniest moan slipped out from her at the sound of Chris’ voice.

“Spookie.”

She could feel the way his lips curled into a smile against the shell of her ear, and she had to bite her lip a little more to stop herself to make any more of a sound. Soon as she did though, she felt another hand on her, fingers gripping her chin firmly, directing her to look at Ricky, his thumb gently prying her lip from her teeth.

“Now, now, Sweetheart, none of that, or we can’t be held responsible for what we’ll do, and the date isn’t over yet. You wouldn’t want to disappoint us by ruining our fun, now, would you?”

Whimpering as she shook her head. No, no, she didn’t want to disappoint them, at all.

Her score on the windmill hole was an utter disaster. Utter. Disaster.

Ricky better be driving them directly home, all Chris could think about was getting home, home, and his hands on both of them. Seeing the way that Ricky was with Talia, was the hottest fucking thing in the damn world, if he was honest. If he wasn’t going to get his mouth, hands, anything involved with at least one of them tonight, he was going to need some serious alone time because damn. His only other option was going to be an ice-cold shower and really, and he had to deal with that enough on tour, thank you. Hell no.

It was safe to say that when Ricky pulled over at another food truck to the side of the road, Chris groaned,

“I’m going to kill you, Olson..”

Ricky just smirked over his shoulder,

“We are almost home, don’t you want dessert?”

Before Chris could even reply though, Rick was already climbing out of the car, and Chris huffed, he was going to be impossible, but he supposed it was only fair. They’d had something for Chris, dinner, something for Talia, mini-golf, dessert could be for Ricky, how could he complain? Ice-Cream sundaes.. And yes, there were vegan options. Rick had thought of everything. Chris got the Banana choc brownie vegan sundae.. And he’d admit it, it was good.. But it wasn’t until he was walking back to the car, sucking on a spoonful of sundae that he heard a groan from Ricky… and glanced over at him.

He had a dumb founded look on his face, staring at Talia… the moment he looked at her, it wasn’t hard to tell why.

Fuck. She was getting them back for all their teasing tonight, and then some. Talia had gotten a strawberry ice-cream sundae… She had gotten a strawberry ice-cream sundae, and it had real strawberries on it, which she was staring Ricky down as she wrapped her lips around the plump fruit, biting into it slowly. Chris felt the groan that came from his best friend and soul mate.

“Fuck.. Can we go home, now, Rick?”

If that question wasn’t rhetorical, he was going to kill him, hear that, kill him.

“Get in the car.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky olson fanfiction #original female character #soulmates #fanfiction #miw band #soulmate au #ricky olson fanfic #chris motionless #chris cerulli #chris cerulli fanfic #fic: every rose has its thorns

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praetorqueenreyna · 1 year ago

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Summary:

soare cu dinți - “sun with teeth.” A day that is invitingly sunny and bright, but deceptively cold. What if in ACOTAR when Nesta set out to rescue Feyre, she succeeded in getting through the Wall?

So excited to be able to reveal my fic for the @acotargiftexchange! I was Secret Santa for @sadiebluewin, who requested a Neris fic. I hope you enjoy it, I had so much fun writing this!!

You can find this fic on AO3 here, or continue reading below.

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

Nesta hated the faerie lands. She hated the trees that whispered a mocking prayer over her head, wishing for her to stumble and fall. She hated the unfamiliar animal noises that rang through the darkness. She hated how one moment she seemed to be in a warm spring day, and the next a bitter winter’s night. Her days traveling through the faerie realm blurred together until she had no idea how long it had been since she had left the mercenary at the wall and entered this hellscape alone. Throughout that time, she never allowed herself to be afraid. Instead, she was angry. She rode on her fury like a wild stallion, doggedly moving through the forest that tangled in her hair and pulled at her clothing. Feyre was somewhere here, in this horrible place, and she was going to find her.

A snarl rang out, closer than the other animal sounds. Nesta froze, scanning the trees around her. She now appeared to be in a deciduous forest in the middle of autumn, her vision obscured by trees covered in leaves the color of flames. The growl came again, closer this time, from her left. That was all the warning she got before a monster leapt out of the trees and tackled her.

She didn’t scream as she fought and writhed against the beast. It was too close and too fast for her to get a good look of it, she only observed it in flashes. A hint of matted fur here, a patch of scales there. More pressing were the sharp yellow teeth that snapped in the air, itching to rip her throat out. Nesta put out an arm to push the thing away, only for those teeth to sink into her flesh. Now she did scream as drops of her own blood began to rain on her face. She instinctively pulled, howling in pain when the monster tightened its jaws on her forearm. Her free arm uselessly beat against its side, but she might as well not have bothered. This was the end. She was going to die.

Suddenly, the beast collapsed. Its grip on her slackened and it sank onto her, a dead weight. It flopped to the side and freed her, allowing her to view her savior. Her first thought was that he was not human. He was too pale, too graceful, too cruelly beautiful to be anything other than one of the High Fae. His bright red hair blended in with the fall colors in the background, as if he had simply stepped directly out of one of the tree trunks. He wasn’t looking at her, instead preoccupied with drawing a sword from the flank of the monster and wiping the thick green blood away with his sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a conversational tone, still giving all his attention to the sword. As if he were too good to even glance her way. Despite him saving her life, everything about him pissed Nesta off.

“None of your business.” She pushed herself to her feet with her good arm. The sudden change in position made her lightheaded, and she wondered how much more blood she could lose before she passed out.

“Considering you’re on my land and I just saved your life, it very much is my business.” He finally was looking at her, scanning her with cold eyes that seemed to find her wanting.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She made to take a step forward, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She resisted, and the pressure increased, pinning her in place. Refusing to show any deference, she huffed in annoyance. “My sister was taken by a beast. I crossed the wall to find her.”

“You came here alone?”

“Yes.” Nesta was tired, and she needed to tend to her arm. She hadn’t looked at it yet, but it throbbed painfully every time her heart beat. “Can I go now?”

The faerie hummed, but didn’t answer. He glanced over her, noticing her injury for the first time. “I can fix that for you.”

“No.” Nesta was no idiot. The faerie would offer to heal her, in exchange for her body, or her soul. She’d be trapped in his clutches for all of eternity, and she’d never find her sister.

“You’ll die if I don’t.” His tone indicated he didn’t care one way or the other. “Then I’ll have to find a way to hide your body. It’ll be a whole thing if the High Lord discovers a live human in this court. Far easier to fix you up and have you walk out.”

She didn’t want to go with him, but she was running out of options. She had clutched her injured arm against her chest, and already the front of her dress was soaked in blood. “Fine. Just promise that I’ll be allowed to leave alive. Soon, not in one hundred years.” Everyone knew that the fae couldn’t lie.

His mouth twitched into what could be considered the beginning of a grin. “I promise.”

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

The faerie led her to a surprisingly small cottage that reminded Nesta of the one they had only recently been able to leave. The interior was minimalist, barely furnished for a single person. From what Nesta knew, the High Fae were greedy materialistic assholes. She was expecting some kind of luxurious castle, adorned with the riches this fae had stolen. Uneasy, she wondered what else she had taken as fact about the fae was also untrue.

“Sit down, human,” the male ordered.

Nesta bristled. “Don’t talk to me like that. My name is Nesta.” He acted like he hadn’t heard, gesturing to a chair with a dismissive wave of his hand. Nesta chose to remain standing. With a long-suffering sigh, he approached her and reached for her arm. She jerked away in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to heal you.”

“No. No magic. Get me some first aid supplies. I’ll do it myself.” Nesta didn’t trust the faerie as far as she could throw him, and she certainly didn’t want him laying his hands on her.

“Fine.” He brushed past her to sit at the dining room table. In front of him was a bottle of liquor and an empty glass that hadn’t been on the table a moment ago. There was also a roll of white bandages, a towel, and a bowl of faintly steaming water. The male dropped down into a chair and poured himself a generous helping of the amber liquid. With him thus occupied, Nesta approached the table warily. With one eye on the faerie, she rolled up her sleeve to assess her wound. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought, once she used the towel soaked in hot water to dab away the blood. The beast’s teeth had left ragged holes in her flesh, but the bone wasn’t broken and she could still move her hand. As she wrapped the bandages tightly around her arm, she asked the question that was burning on her tongue.

“Who are you?”

“I am Eris Vanserra. My father is the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Oh fuck. Not only had she been found by a powerful High Fae, but he was the son of a High Lord? Nesta was in a lot more danger than she had thought. Keeping her voice neutral, she asked, “Is that where we are? Autumn?”

“Yes. There are seven Courts in Prythian: Autumn, Spring, Summer, Winter, Dawn, Day, and Night.” He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. Nesta was offended, even though she knew nothing of the faerie realm.

“When I crossed the Wall, the forest…changed. Sometimes it was night, then day. Spring, then winter. How could that be if I was only crossing one Court?”

Eris shrugged. “Prythian is hostile to humans. It’s very possible the forest was messing with you, bouncing you between different Courts.” He took a thoughtful drink. “That would explain how you ended up here though. We’re hundreds of miles from the Wall.”

Nesta wanted to scream. If this damned realm was capable of transporting her anywhere, how could she ever find Feyre?

For a few hours, they talked, Nesta having resolved to find out as much as possible about this land and her new host. When she asked why he was staying in such meager lodgings if he was some kind of prince, he had shrugged and said that most of his family was away, and he was the only one who was able to occasionally come back. When pressed for details, he stopped answering her questions. He also wouldn’t give her a good answer when she bluntly asked why he hadn’t killed her yet.

“I’m bored. You’re the most interesting thing that has happened in a year.”

Her next question was interrupted by a huge yawn. It felt like she hadn’t slept in days. Eris dismissed himself and disappeared through a doorway that presumably led to a bedroom. At some point, he had magically replaced the couch in the living room with a small bed. Nesta didn’t like the metallic scent of magic that clung in the air, but she was too tired to put up a fight. She sank onto the bed and fell asleep immediately.

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

She stabbed him that night. Nightmares filled with gnashing teeth and Feyre’s screams had her sitting bolt upright, pale and sweating. She dug through her cloak to find the iron dagger she had bought from the mercenary, clenching it in a clammy fist. Suitably armed, she crept into Eris’s bedroom, swathed in the cold light of the moon. Asleep, his harsh features had softened. Before she could look too closely and lose her nerve, she drove the dagger into his thigh. Like a striking viper, his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. His eyes were open, and he looked annoyed. Nesta struggled, fully expecting him to rip her in half. Instead, he pulled out the knife and dropped it on the floor. Then he swung his bare feet out from the bed and frogmarched her out of his room, barely limping.

“Iron doesn’t do much to us, sweetheart. Next time, try ashwood.” With a slight shove, he released her and closed the bedroom door in her face. There was a dramatic click when the lock slid into place. At a loss for how to proceed, Nesta returned to her bed.

In the morning, Nesta began to walk. She struck out in a straight path through the forest, keeping track of her progress by carving an “X” on the trees every few yards with the iron dagger that had been cleaned and left on the dining room table. Eris accompanied her as an irritating shadow. She would have insisted on going by herself, but she was terrified that setting out on her own would mean that she’d be transported somewhere else, miles away. With the fae at her side, the land seemed to cooperate; she stayed within a grove of oak and maple, a crisp chill note in the air.

In the evening, she returned to the cabin. Eris had mentioned that most of the forest’s creatures were nocturnal, leaving her to make the decision for herself. While she loathed her companion and yearned to make more headway through the realm, she was a realist. There was no way she could fend off another one of those monsters by herself, especially not with her injured arm that throbbed painfully every time she moved it.

They settled into a routine. Each morning, Nesta would awaken and begin shuffling around the kitchen. A few minutes later, Eris would emerge from his room, fully dressed. It didn’t occur to Nesta until a few weeks in that Eris likely woke up before her, but waited in his bedroom until he was sure that she was awake as well. Nesta had no idea where the food in the kitchen came from, but it was always fully stocked: fresh fruit and vegetables, pastries still warm from the oven, ice cold decanters of water and juice.

Sometimes, when they stepped outside, Eris would give a piercing whistle. A chorus of howls answered him, and a fleet of gray shapes streaked through the trees towards them. The first time it happened, Nesta had been sure that Eris had grown tired of her and had summoned a demon to kill her. Instead, the shapes had flashed past her to Eris, coalescing into a flock of a dozen baying hounds. They wound between his legs and jumped up to lick his face. He was a lot less intimidating covered in dog slobber and trying to fend them off with an amused grin. They were being taken care of somewhere else, apparently, but were always ready to come when Eris called.

At first, Nesta refused to even acknowledge Eris during their exploration. She was focused on her mission of finding Feyre, constantly scanning the treeline and searching for signs that her sister had come through here. It was lonely. Nesta had never truly been alone. Through everything, there had always been Feyre and Elain. She began to ask Eris questions about Prythian, safe questions that she could pass off as a way to learn more about the land to aid her in her quest. When he answered those, she began asking questions about himself. She learned that he had six younger brothers. That even though he was the eldest, he wasn’t necessarily going to become the next High Lord. That she was the first human he had met since the war. That he had already been over 100 years old when the war started.

Eventually she began talking about herself. About her mother, her father, and Elain. And Feyre. She told Eris about the years in the cabin, and everything Feyre had done for them, culminating in her sacrificing herself to a fae beast. The riches and return to status that had followed was because of Feyre, Nesta was sure of it. Even from her prison in Prythian, she made sure her family was taken care of. Despite how they had treated her.

“Why were you such a bitch to her then?” Eris asked, holding aside a tree branch for Nesta to duck under it.

Nesta had long stopped being insulted by Eris’s blunt language. She found it refreshing. By now she had learned that the fae could lie, but Eris rarely did. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I think…I think I was trying to drive her away.” She paused, bracing herself on his arm to take a large step across a creek. “She would have been better off on her own. Without us. I wanted her to leave and force our father to step up and take care of us.” A sigh. “It was stupid. Father was broken, and Feyre would never have left him.” It had been so easy to blame everybody else when they were in the grip of poverty. Now, Nesta only wished that she had done more. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

Eris didn’t look disgusted with her. Instead, he spoke slowly, considering. “My youngest brother was always the best of all of us. I hated him for it, sometimes. That we had all been through the same things, and he was still good.” He gave Nesta a wry smile. “He did leave us, though. He’s better off now.”

“Where did he go?” Nesta asked, but Eris turned away from her and wouldn’t answer.

That evening, like every evening, he told her to sit down so he could examine her wounds. Every other time Nesta had refused. Now, she sat at the table and held her arm out on the bare wooden surface. If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. He unwrapped the bandages, exposing the gouges that the monster’s teeth had left behind. It hurt like hell, but Nesta bit the inside of her cheek to keep from whimpering. She was ready to yank her arm away if he tried to use magic. He didn’t even try; just wiped down the wounds and rewrapped them. His hands were warm, almost too hot to be comforting. She told herself it was that searing heat that made her feel his touch for hours afterwards.

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

Months passed. Nesta didn’t realize how fond she had grown of Eris until he started leaving the cabin for a few days at a time. He wouldn’t tell her where he was going, but she assumed it had to do with his role as the High Lord’s son. The first time he left, she was overwhelmed by an aching loneliness that took her breath away. She missed eating breakfast with him, and their trips through the forest looking for Feyre. She missed his stupid smirk and making fun of him for needing to use magic for everything. His smokehounds had learned to come when she called them, but even their company wasn’t enough to ease the pang of her solitude. Though she would die before ever admitting it, she began sleeping in his bed when he was gone, curled around one of his pillows with the youngest of the hounds pressed against her back.

She had never felt this way about a man. Not even Tomas, when she had been prepared to marry him. Reminding herself that Eris was not a man, and that he likely viewed her the same way he viewed his dogs, didn’t help. It didn’t matter anyway. As soon as she found Feyre, she was getting them both out of here.

The search for her sister had continued every day. After one of his trips away, Eris had returned with two horses, increasing their search radius by miles. Even now Nesta didn’t know what exactly she was searching for. Especially since it was possible that the forest had dumped Feyre and her captor at the other end of the continent, far beyond where Nesta could travel in a single day. Her arm was getting better, but she could still barely move it. If she tried to go off on her own, she’d surely be killed. The next step of her plan was working up the courage to ask Eris to accompany her.

For now, they explored Autumn. Nesta could almost forget her mission and the danger that she was in, riding horseback next to Eris, chatting as they trotted through the woods. A glint of silver through the trees caught her attention, and she made a beeline to its source. It was a gorgeous pond, still and smooth, filling a crater in the bare rock. Eris dismounted and knelt next to the water’s edge to examine it.

“It’s a hot spring,” he exclaimed after sticking his hand in the water. “I never knew this was here.”

Nesta followed his lead and dipped her hand in the pond. It was comfortably warm, like bathwater. She hadn’t known such a thing even existed. “What makes it hot?”

“Volcanic activity under the surface, usually.”

To Nesta’s alarm, Eris began undressing, pulling off his boots and socks. “What are you doing?”

He gave her a look like she was an idiot. “Going swimming.”

“Is it safe?” Nesta was too proud to admit she didn’t know what volcanic activity was, but if it had the power to heat the pond she didn’t want to find out what else it could do.

“Probably.” He stopped as he began unlacing his tunic. “Are you coming?”

“I can’t swim.” Nesta could feel herself turning red at the admission. “You go on, though.”

“Oh.” Eris thought for a moment, then changed tactics and began rolling up the legs of his pants. “We can just wade in the shallows, then.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll hold onto you the whole time, you won’t fall in. I promise.”

Faeries could lie, but Eris didn’t. Not allowing her mind to wander, Nesta took off her own shoes and stockings. She gathered her skirts up in her good hand so they bunched up around her thighs. Eris took her by the elbow and guided her into the water. It felt wonderful, soothing and warm, the smooth bare rock heaven on her bare feet. Tiny fish whizzed by them in the crystal clear water. Eris was right next to her now, one hand on her arm and one on her waist. His scent, which at first had been overpowering and threatening, now comforted her.

“Aren’t you brave?” he murmured, right in her ear. Nesta slipped, flailing inelegantly as she tried to catch her balance. Eris moved to catch her and managed to keep them both upright. She had dropped her skirts and was now waist-deep in the pond. In his effort to save her, Eris was now clutching her tightly against him. They were both soaking wet from her splashing. Instead of being annoyed, he chuckled. “Clumsy, too.”

“I am human,” she retorted. Instead of mocking her, Eris regarded her closely. One of his hands came up to brush a few damp strands of hair away from her face. Her breathing stuttered, her heart beating so rapidly she could feel it in her fingertips.

“Yes you are.” The back of his knuckles skimmed across her cheek, her jaw, her neck. “I never knew humans could be so…” he trailed off, and then instead of finishing his sentence, he kissed her.

Nesta had been kissed before. Just never like this. Eris kissed her like he had been fasting and she was a decadent meal he could finally indulge in. In that moment, Nesta forgot everything: her wounded arm, Feyre, the fact that she was in a land that was actively trying to kill her. Eris pulled back too soon. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” With a forwardness she had never possessed, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers.

At some point, they had to leave the hot spring. Eris used his magic to dry them both off, so they could comfortably lay down in the grass. Nesta found herself half on top of Eris, lazily kissing, her injured arm folded between them.

“Will you finally let me heal this?” he asked, lightly touching the arm in question.

“No,” Nesta answered against his throat.

“Stubborn woman.” Eris hooked his fingers under her chin to bring her lips up to where he wanted them.

During a break for them to catch their breath, Nesta sighed. “I’m never going to find Feyre, am I?”

“Probably not. We’ll keep looking though.”

“I just wish that stupid beast had said where it was going.”

Eris sat upright. “It talked to you?”

Nesta sat up as well. “Yes. It said that since she had killed a faerie, it would take her and keep her in Prythian forever. A life for a life.” Reliving the moment that that horrible monster had burst into their home and taken her baby sister was too painful, and she had never told Eris the full story of what had happened.

“And what did the beast look like?” Eris was staring into her eyes intently, with a much different energy than he had had a moment ago.

“Like a mountain lion mixed with a wolf. With elk antlers.”

Eris cursed and rose to his feet. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” He pulled Nesta up as well. “I know where your sister is.”

The air left Nesta’s lungs. “Take me to her.”

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #neris #nesta/eris #nesta archeron/eris vanserra #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #fanfic #my fic #acotar gift exchange #I HOPE U ENJOY GIFTEE #I LOVE FAIRY/HUMAN ROMANCE

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greyias · 1 year ago

Note

22. playful teasing from the blossoming romance prompts?

Pairing: Gale x Tav (pre-relationship) Words: ~4600 Notes: More self-indulgent fluff, takes place the first morning/second day. A follow-up to this previous piece, but can be read on its own.

Gale woke with a crick in his neck, an ache in his back, and an all-too familiar gnawing deep within his chest. A groan escaped him as every bone and muscle protested the hard ground that had been his bed. He had a few choice words for the many scribes who extolled the virtues of sleeping under the stars, nestled in the ample bosom of nature’s beauty. He would take a proper mattress any day.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, its golden rays starting to chase away twilight’s dim gray hold over their camp. He’d never been much of an early riser, candles usually burning low into the night as he’d get lost in one text or another — and the comfort of his tower back in Waterdeep afforded him the luxury of the simple things: an actual bed, linens, and the ability to snooze well into the morning hours. A twinge of protest in his lower back chased any thoughts of trying to close his eyes and catch a little more sleep, so he resigned himself to face the day.

Pushing himself to a half-upright position, that unnatural, ever-present hunger churned with a renewed vengeance. It hadn’t been sated in days, and it certainly wouldn’t be assuaged by any worldly meal. Absently, he brushed his hand against the ache, only for his traitorous stomach to voice complaints of its own with an insistent gurgle. Well, it seemed everything was just going to complain today.

Scrubbing the grit of sleep from his eyes, he slowly shuffled toward the campfire. Despite the late summer date, a chill still clung to the pre-dawn air and the warmth of the fire beckoned now that he’d abandoned his bedroll. It had burned low overnight, and Gale could make out the silhouette of one of his newfound companions tending to the dying embers. Faint light danced off scale mail, glinting underneath the deep blue and silver tabard embroidered with the tenets of a paladin’s oath to devotion. It seemed Aravyn had risen early enough to change from the fine yet travel-worn sleep attire she’d worn in the evening. If she’d managed to change into her armor already, he had to wonder exactly how early she’d woken up.

She glanced over her shoulder at his approach, and he suspected the keen sense from her elven lineage had picked up the sound of his footsteps in the quiet of the morning — not that he’d been trying to be particularly stealthy. In the dim light, he could just make out her quirking a brow in amusement at his approach, but she kept her voice pitched lower, likely in deference to their still slumbering companions. “That is quite the windswept scholar look you have going on today?”

Gale blinked, trying to parse that statement before raking a hand through his hair and encountering a wild tuft sticking straight up in the air. He attempted to smooth it with his fingers and hoped the slight reddening of his cheeks could be blamed on the morning chill. “Yes well… not all of us can wake up looking freshly groomed and put together, can we?”

“Contrary to popular belief, not all of elven descent awake fresh and pure as morning dew.” She gently stoked the fading embers, trying to prod the struggling flame back to life. “Even we must contend with bedhead and morning breath.”

“I will respectfully keep my distance in that case.” Despite his jest, he still shuffled closer to the sputtering flames, although the embers did little to provide much warmth. “So if you do not wake up perfectly composed and dressed for battle, I take that to mean you’ve been up for a while then?”

Aravyn gave a small shrug as the returned her focus to the struggling flames. “My sleep was a little restless. Too many thoughts swimming about, not to mention our unwanted guests.”

“I was going to blame our accommodations, but that is a valid point.”

“Not used to roughing it?”

“I’ve camped among the elements many a time,” Gale insisted, “but sleeping on rocks have never done my back any favors.”

She wrinkled her nose, glancing back at him. “You set your bedroll up over some rocks?”

An exasperated sigh escaped him. “I was intending a broader condemnation of the unyielding nature of the earth itself, rather than implying I selected the most jagged plot to sleep.”

“I don’t really think the ground is going to listen to any constructive criticism you offer.” From the suspicious way her lips quivered as she pressed them together tightly, Gale gathered he was being teased.

“Perhaps not.” He eyed the way she continued to gently prod the logs with her stick, and while there was nothing wrong with a light touch — certainly a clumsy oaf could push the smoldering logs apart and smother the flame, but there was a far quicker and more effective way to achieve this particular goal. “Here, allow me.”

With a murmured incantation, he conjured a small bolt of fire and let it loose at the embers she was still trying to coax a proper flame out of. The kindling popped and crackled before the fire roared back to life. There was once a time that he could have made the whole thing come alive, take a shape of a dragon that would roar in delight. And maybe even would have, just for a little extra show.

“I could have done that,” she protested.

“Why didn’t you then?”A small huff escaped her, and he just managed to keep from smirking in response.

“Not every problem needs to be solved with a magical solution, you know.”

“Yes, but now we have a nice fire.”

“We still would have if you’d been a little more patient.” Another huff, and this time he couldn’t stop the smirk from blossoming, or adding a little poking of his own.

“But this allowed us to reach the desired outcome much more expediently.” The gnawing void in his chest may have spoken to at least some of the wisdom of her statement. Still, old habits died hard, and it was easier to feign exaggerated indignance than to indulge in too much self-reflection before the sun had even fully risen. “Honestly, wasting time poking it with sticks is borderline arcane masochism.”

Her brow arched as she quietly echoed, “Arcane masochism?”

“There’s no reason to abstain from magic merely for some misbegotten sense of character building?”

“Are you about to tell me to go to hell again?” For a moment he thought the question might be serious, but the glitter of mirth in her eyes gave her away.

Despite himself, the corner of Gale’s mouth twitched at the reminder of his darker musings from the previous night. “I wasn’t really planning on it — but perhaps that’s just my hunger talking. Clearly sustenance is in order before my temperament grows any darker.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” She held up a finger, as if telling him to wait, before delving into one of the nearby bags where they’d gathered all of the provisions from their group’s scrounging the day before. After a few moments of rustling around with some quiet mutterings, she produced a plain strip of dried meat for him, with the flair of a subject presenting a prize catch to their lord. “Here. You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

“Hilarious.” Gale eyed the meager rations with the air of a man facing his imminent demise.

He wouldn’t have to deal with such indignities if he still had the power to summon an extradimensional space with a fully-stocked larder that could even put the one in his tower to shame. Even a Heroes' Feast wouldn’t go awry — not that particular spell had ever been part of his domain of magic. And would disappear in an hour. He really was desperate, wasn’t he?

Gale was stalling. Out loud he added, “I seem to recall us having a conversation just yesterday about you not inflicting your culinary masterpieces on others.”

“Yes, but this is different,” Aravyn insisted.

“How?”

“I haven’t boiled this piece of jerky.”

“That statement is not nearly as comforting as you mean it to be.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

"Yes, your generosity truly knows no bounds.” His tone was as dry as the piece of jerky he accepted with great trepidation. Rather than eating it right away, he just stared at it glumly. “What I wouldn’t give for a proper Waterdhavian breakfast right now. Almond cakes, buttered buns, oh, gods — some strong coffee would not go amiss either.”

“Oh, coffee…” A wistful, borderline indecent sigh escaped the half-elf. “What I wouldn’t give for a mug of the Smilin’ Boar’s finest roast.”

“The Smilin’ Boar?” It was Gale’s turn to quirk an eyebrow.

“Oh, it was this old tavern that got turned into a cafe back in Baldur’s Gate. The menu took, let’s say, some creative liberties when naming their dishes, but they served the best coffee inside of these cute little mugs shaped like a pig’s head. Or at least it was the best coffee in the Bloomridge District.”

The Bloomridge District — now that was interesting. If memory served, that was one of the wealthier neighborhoods in the Lower City, with some of the estates there threatening to rival the opulence of the Upper City itself. If he factored in the fine leather and golden embroidery from her sleepwear the night before, Gale was starting to suspect that whatever her past, their troupe’s little paladin hadn’t been born to the life of pauper.

It was an intriguing puzzle these little details presented, and it just a little too tempting for him to resist plucking those loose threads and trying to weave them into a larger fabric of knowledge. He peered past the thoroughly unappetizing slab to appraise her with renewed curiosity, an investigator sizing up an intriguing conundrum. Breakfast (if it could even be called that) could wait — this enigma required his full concentration.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” she asked.

“I’m looking for inspiration.” He waved the desiccated mystery meat product absently in the air. “Tell me more about this creative menu.”

“Oh, you know. They had things like ’Sow’s Delight’ and ‘Three Pigs in a Blanket’. It’s all a little raunchy for such an upscale cafe, but considering they reused the signboard from the old tavern…” She trailed off, as if hoping that maybe his attention had wandered, then seeing it had not, cleared her throat. “Well, the original tavern incarnation didn’t cater to quite the same clientele.”

“You’re really building this up,” teased Gale.

“The sign featured a smiling boar.”

“I had gathered that much.”

“…mounted atop a sow.”

The loud guffaw that erupted from Gale took them both by surprise, and he quickly glanced around the camp to see if he had accidentally woken any of the late risers. Mindful of his manners, he lowered his voice once he managed to contain himself. “That is positively delightful. If by some happenstance our merry little band winds up in your hometown, we must visit this charming little cafe.”

“That’s a long way to go for a cup of coffee.” Aravyn pointed out. “If you just need something bitter to sip on, I could try boiling some tree bark or mushrooms.”

“You do know that there are other ways to prepare food and drink than merely boiling everything into an unpalatable pulp?” Gale countered, still holding the unconsumed jerky almost at arms’ length. “Although at this point, I can’t say whether that would help or hurt this allegedly edible morsel.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re seeking distraction from that rather than inspiration.” Her teasing lilt was as sweet as honeyed wine but contained just a little too much levity to be believed as completely innocent. “Go on, just pretend it’s a Sow’s Delight.”

He wasn’t sure how, but she’d managed to make the bland piece of meat even more unappetizing. His lip curled involuntarily as he valiantly tried to banish the image of said sow’s delight and its causes, and took the daintiest of nibbles from the edge — and nearly gagged.

Aravyn beamed at him with the widest and most innocent of smiles. “Inspired yet?”

“Thoroughly.” Face contorting, he forced himself to swallow the salt-cured leather. “However, I do think we need to fill our larder with something of a bit more sustenance.” And flavor. Never forget flavor.

“We do have quite a few mouths to feed.” She tapped her chin, considering. “I’m not sure how far we’ll be able to stretch our current rations.”

“Well, perhaps if you ask everyone else to picture two pigs rutting, it should give us a few more days.”

Aravyn’s cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, as if only now realizing her perhaps unintentional double entendre, before her lips curled in a smile that was caught somewhere between apology, mischief, and mirth. “I don’t know. It somehow got you to take a bite.”

“I… you—” Gale sputtered. While not for the first time in his life, it had been a long, long while since someone had rendered him at a loss for words.

Dawn chose that moment to crest the horizon, its warm glow highlighting the faint spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. The deep flush there lingered, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. The image had a certain endearing, almost innocent charm that was captivating. An unexpected stirring in his chest skipped just a single beat, but it was enough proof there was maybe something in there beyond the rot chipping away at him.

The impishness edge of her grin softened, hovering on the edge of something warmer. That moment, that stirring, lingered with a tension that seemed to crackle like the kindling had.

“I guess I need work on my sales pitch.” Aravyn rubbed the back of her neck, a little flustered.

“Maybe start by avoiding porcine copulation.” Gale said, though his gaze lingered on her smile a beat too long before he redirected it to the sparking flames. Clearing his throat, he grasped for a fresh conversational thread. “You know, while scavenging yesterday, I couldn’t help but notice those ruins up on the cliffs.”

“Yes, they did look rather… crumbly.”

“That is a way to describe them, I suppose.” He stole a glance back in her direction to see her lips pressed together, whether in amusement or deep thought, he couldn’t tell. “Their structural integrity aside, I can’t help but wonder what sort of secrets they might hold.”

Aravyn tilted her head, considering yet also dubious. “I doubt we’ll find any coffee there.”

“I have other needs aside from coffee.” His tone was light even as the dark, necrotic orb in his chest twinged once more. He resisted the urge to massage it — best to not draw attention to his condition, especially with a group of strangers he’d not even known a full twenty-four hours. “The whole place has an air of mystery to it, don’t you think?”

“I mean, a little.” She slid a considering glance in the far distance where said ruin lay. “Although I think it it may just be a chapel. I’m not sure what you’d expect to find there.”

“Yes, but a chapel to who? Aren’t you curious?”

From the furtive way she averted her gaze, he could tell that her curiosity had been piqued. “I thought you were eager to find a cure before the ‘wee ones’ got too hungry. I think we’re more likely to find that at the druid’s grove those tie flings mentioned. Or at the every least some fresh vegetables.”

Gale tried not to make too much of a face that that, but some adding some roughage to their diet was probably not entirely uncalled for. “Yes, yes, fresh produce is nice and all. But it’s hard to resist a good mystery, is it not? Just think of the secrets those old walls could hold, magical relics even.”

Perhaps that was giving away his true intentions too strongly, but as she began to chew her lip in consideration, he could tell she was losing the war. “You could say they’re almost on the way we were being directed. It would only be a little detour.”

“That’s the spirit! Besides, how long would it really take to poke our heads into an old church?” He waggled his eyebrows with a conspiratorial flourish. “Who knows, it might even shake loose some ideas rattling around in our skulls about what to do about our larger problem. Give the ol’ noggin something to do besides house our new guests.”

Aravyn scrunched up her nose in distaste at the description. “I’d rather not be reminded on how much they're.... squirming up there."

“Ah come now, just imagine them as hairless spiders giving your mind a massage.”

“Is this revenge for the Sow's Delight?”

“Perhaps.” To his credit, he managed to not sound too smug, but they were rapidly getting off topic. Time to veer the subject back around, although bury the lede lest he come across overeager for the expedition. A spot more innocuous chatter should do the trick. “But regardless, those ruins don’t look too massive. Should be a quick in and out. And even if we don’t find any fun arcane toys to play with, there might be some dusty tomes in there to add to my collection. My personal traveling library is rather paltry at the moment.”

The indelicate snort that escaped her echoed nearly as loud as his earlier burst of laughter. “I thought you said last night you already had enough books to fill a shelf or two.”

“If I’m being completely honest,” he was certainly threading the needle on that particular phrasology, but no matter, “I may have embellished slightly the amount of reading material on my person. It was only a satchel’s worth when I was snatched up by that ship.”

“You only had a satchel filled to the brim with books on your person when you were unexpectedly kidnapped by mindflayers?” There was just enough dubious sarcasm laced in her tone, he wasn’t sure if he should take offense. Probably best to forge past it.

“Well, should our luck prevail, we’ll find a veritable enchanted horde, but barring that, I’ll settle for uncovering a few tomes. Never been much for religious reading, but you never know what knowledge you may find.” Ever a hand talker, Gale instinctually went to rub his hands together in eagerness, but the feeling of dried meat smushed between his palms gave him pause, making him glance down in confusion at the half-flattened jerky. With a small huff, he futilely tried to reshape the pulverized snack as he forged on. “And you never know, perhaps we’ll find a musical score or hymn to expand your own repertoire?”

Aravyn tilted her head in that unique way of hers, as if she were trying to examine him from a different angle. “I’m not sure why I would need that.”

“Apologies, I just assumed after your performance last even—”

Gale caught himself as she flushed again, this time a deeper shade of scarlet as she averted her gaze once more. “Ah. I… guess you heard that.”

Sensing that he might have stepped into a sore subject, a bit of diplomacy was probably in order. “I may have caught a few notes.”

Her gaze was still firmly fixed on the campfire, the glow from it and the dawn seeming to accentuate the color in her cheeks. “Yes, well… it was the first time I had played since I was a child. I’m afraid it showed.”

“I was under the impression that the lute was a difficult instrument to master.” The smile he offered was meant to be encouraging, but the sentiment was likely lost as her eyes were firmly fixed on anywhere but him. “That you had done so as a child speaks volumes.”

“I wouldn’t—I wasn’t a master by any means.” She gave a small, awkward half-shrug. “Certainly not talented enough to pursue it beyond a hobby. Scholarly pursuits are far more practical and likely to pay the bills.”

A nearly imperceptible undercurrent of bitterness ran underneath that confession. None of the details shared quite meshed with the reality before Gale, and once again those frayed threads just begged to be picked apart a little more. A rounded education made sense for a privileged upbringing, but in his experience, rote book learning was rarely a sure path to fortune. Probably not best to lead with that, though.

“I would be the last person to discourage the pursuit of knowledge,” Gale said, “although it seems a shame your creative passion had to fall to the wayside because of it.”

The embarrassed, almost shuttered expression gave way to surprise and her startled gaze finally met his, before flitting away once more. “That is kind of you to say but… I’m not sure I’d count yesterday’s attempt as anything particularly creative.”

“Come now, it wasn’t that bad. You certainly seemed to be enjoying it before, well…”

“Someone suggested a violent and gruesome end to the performance?”

“Pshh,” he waved a dismissive hand in the direction of Lae’zel’s tent, “a little culture won’t hurt this lot.”

“It’s more than a little generous to call that noise ‘culture’.” A dry humor laced those words. “We should probably let yesterday’s mistakes be erased by the dawn.”

The urge to prod, poke further and try to trace those threads to their source was strong. Just as a careless hand could smother the fledgling flame of a dying fire, so too could a clumsy nudge undo delicately laid social groundwork. Trying to wrest secrets not meant to be thrust into the light of day was a recipe for disaster. Of that, he knew far too well.

It would be far wiser to let matters lie. For now.

“I feel like you are being a little too harsh,” he said, “but I can also tell when a subject changed is required.”

“Thank you.” The words came out almost as a breath, but they still rang with gratitude. A small victory, but well earned.

“However, I do admit that you have piqued my curiosity.”

Her brow crinkled. “I thought you were changing the subject.”

“I am — to you, my friend.” He meant to emphasize his point by pointing directly at her, but once again forgot he was holding his inedible breakfast, and wound up using the desiccated meat product as an impromptu pointer.

Unintentional as it was, the absurdity of the visual was apparently what was needed to deflate the remaining tension, and she tried to cover her smile with her hand. “Me?”

“You have to admit, you present an intriguing conundrum. You claim education took precedence for you for financial reasons, and yet now walk the path of a paladin.” He tactfully left out the part about her musical proclivities. “That’s a curious progression.”

“I never claimed I was a good scholar.” The breath of laughter that escaped her had a hint of that same self-consciousness from before. “I was always a little better at wielding a sword.”

“That can be very lucrative work itself.”

“Depends on who you ask.” Something in her inflection gave him pause. Her expression darkened for a fraction of a second, and then melted back into a pleasantly neutral facade so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“And yet something brought you here,” he tried once more.

“Oh, you know that one already.” The glint in her eye and that impish curl to her smile let him know he’d walked right into something again. “Same as you: mindflayers.”

“Very funny.”

Her eyes crinkled as her smile blossomed further. “I like to think I have my moments.”

“You do realize this is not diminishing any of the intrigue.” As Gale shifted to steeple his fingers for emphasis, he once again had to catch himself mid-gesture, still holding that thrice-damned scrap of petrified mystery meat. He resisted the rising urge to hurl the horrid thing away in favor of making his point. A point he most definitely had.

“I think you’re building up more mystery to the situation than there really is. My life has been pretty mundane, especially when you look at the rest of our motley crew. I’m afraid I’m very boring in comparison.”

“I’m starting to suspect your self-assessments might be more than a bit biased.” He shook his head. “But! Our acquaintance has been brief. So, who am I to judge?”

A particularly bright beam of sunlight forced them both to squint, and the dawn’s growing light crept over the rest of camp. Around them, the first stirrings of life broke the relative quiet — a loud moan about someone needing to turn off the sun, shuffling footsteps, and a murmured curse or three.

Aravyn looked at the untouched jerky still pinched between Gale’s fingers. “Well, go on then. Might as well eat up before the others descend. Can’t imagine you want more of an audience for choking that down.”

“Ah, yes.” He grimaced at the fate he had managed to put off until now. “Sustenance.”

As she watched expectantly, that endearingly elfin grin threatening to spill over, Gale steeled himself. He endeavored to banish the lingering images of phantom hooves and porcine faces in flagrante delicto, and shoved the entire strip of jerky in his mouth. He chewed valiantly through what now tasted distinctly like old saddle leather, with about the same consistency. With visible effort, he managed to swallow it down and fixed her with the most aggrieved expression he could summon.

She returned it with a grin radiating playful delight. “As they say, ‘waste not, want not’.”

“The eponymous ‘they’ may want to rethink that particular axiom,” he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It did nothing for the lingering aftertaste. He wasn’t sure even the highest proof alcohol would get rid of that.

“Must you both make such an insufferable racket so early in the morning?” Lae’zel grumbled as she stalked over with a scowl. “You sound like a pair of foo dogs with a bad case of interplanar indigestion.”

Gale was extremely proud of himself for managing to keep a straight face. “Apologies. You must forgive our zeal, as we were just discussing the merits of the local cuisine.”

“That is far more enthusiasm than I can bear at this hour.” She rubbed at her eyes irritably. “Especially over something as pointless as a culinary debate.”

There were a few more choice gith words uttered Lae’zel’s breath before Aravyn oh-so-helpfully produced another piece of jerky for her complaining companion. The friendly effort at first seemed to yield only a withering look, before the offering was accepted with far more grace than Gale had been able to muster.

The githyanki seemed much less bothered by the meager fare, and chewed it in contemplative silence as the other two members of their merry band roused and joined them at the campfire. Gale tracked Aravyn as she cheerfully inflicted more of the tasteless rations on a bleary and unsuspecting Astarion and Shadowheart. Their grumbling complaints echoed his own, but somehow that relentless cheer managed to win over in the end. Astarion’s exaggerated eye rolls, Shadowheart trying to hide spitting out the jerky, only for Lae’zel to loudly call her out.

It was an unremarkable, entirely mundane moment, yet something still stirred within him. A resonance that touched beyond even the ever present void behind his ribs. Like he was witnessing another kind of dawn, and they were all on the cusp of cresting a brand new, unseen horizon.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #gale x tav #(pre-relationship)#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 tav #oc: aravyn #greyfic

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hexpea · 6 months ago

Text

Ch. 12 - Iris The iris symbolizes faith, courage, hope, and wisdom -- its name derived from the Greek word for 'rainbow.' AN:TW: drug use

You led Naoya through the winding corridors of your family's estate, a masterpiece frozen in time compared to the Zenin estate. The shinden-zukuri style was evident in every meticulously crafted detail. The hallways were adorned with sliding fusuma doors that featured delicate hand-painted scenes that depicted Japanese folklore. Soft ambient light filtered through the shoji screens, casting a warm glow on the tatami mat flooring beneath your socked feet. Being back home brought you a certain sense of nostalgia, the scent of fresh wood bringing you back to your childhood.

"This way," you murmured, guiding Naoya toward your bedroom.

As you entered the room, Naoya's disdain collided with the traditional atmosphere of your room. The minimalistic interior, though lacking in the opulence he was accustomed to, radiated an understated grace. "This is it?" He scoffed in a voice full of derision as he glanced around the nearly empty room. "Where's the comfort?"

You suppressed a giggle at his incredulous expression. "Welcome to the Kamo estate," you replied with a teasing smile. "Where tradition reigns supreme."

His eyes narrowed as he took in the room once more. "It's like stepping back in time," he remarked, his voice laced with contempt.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Our family takes pride in preserving our heritage," you explained. "The Kamo estate has remained virtually unchanged since the Heian era."

Naoya's expression shifted from disdain to disbelief. "You mean to tell me we'll be sleeping on futons the entire weekend?! ...How quaint."

You nodded with a teasing smirk. "That's right."

Naoya let out a snort. "Your family's living in ancient times," he muttered under his breath.

You chuckled at his reaction, finding amusement in his discomfort. "It's not so bad once you get used to it," you reassured him, though your own apprehension about the upcoming nights on the thin mats lingered in the back of your mind. You knew Naoya was going to complain the whole weekend about it.

"So, Y/N," he began, quickly changing the subject, a trace of irritation in his voice, "do you know of any nightlife around here? Places where I can actually unwind? Or is this entire city stuck in a time warp?"

You couldn't help but shake your head with a small smile. "I never went out much before I got engaged to you, Naoya, let alone when I was married to Naohiro. I'm afraid my knowledge is very limited on that."

Naoya groaned, the prospect of being confined to the Kamo estate seemingly unbearable. "I can't fucking believe I'm stuck in this ancient place with no escape! There must be something around here." He got out his phone and began to do some Googling.

A mischievous idea crossed your mind, and you suggested, "why don't we ask Daisuke? He used to be quite the partier in his twenties."

Naoya scoffed, dismissing the idea immediately. "Daisuke? Please. I doubt he knows of any places worth my time. He's practically an old man."

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. "Daisuke's only thirty-eight, Naoya. You might be surprised. Besides, he knows Kyoto better than anyone. Let's go find him and see if he can't point us in the right direction."

Naoya grumbled under his breath but allowed you to tug him along. It didn't take you long to find him in his room tending to one of his few bonsai trees. He was meticulously clipping some of the branches when you walked in.

You greeted him with a warm smile. "Uncle, we're wondering if you could recommend any places for Naoya to unwind. You know, some nightlife options."

Daisuke glanced up from his meticulous work, his eyes narrowing at the mention of Naoya's name. "Unwind, you say? I doubt he knows how to do that without causing trouble."

Naoya crossed his arms, a defiant smirk on his face. "I can handle myself just fine, Kamo. Your bonsai guru here probably never had a wild bone in his body."

Ignoring Naoya's remark, Daisuke turned his attention to you. "Nightlife? Well, Kyoto's changed a bit since my days, but there are still a few places worth checking out. I'll jot down some names for you, Zenin." He moved swiftly to the table in his room, kneeling down to write down a list on a small notepad before tearing the sheet off and standing up.

Naoya grunted, reluctantly accepting the list Daisuke handed to him, crumpling it in his fist as he took it. "I doubt I'll find anything worthwhile in this ancient city."

Daisuke shot him a pointed look. "Respect the traditions, Naoya. They've been around much longer than you."

Rolling your eyes at the exchange, you decided to change the subject. "Thanks, Uncle. We'll let you get back to it."

As you walked away, Naoya muttered under his breath, "old man and his trees. What a waste of time."

You walked back to you room from there. When you got to your room, you noticed that the attendants had finally brought your luggage to your rooms. Naoya wasted no time in rooting through his for more casual clothes in order to participate in his upcoming night of revelry.

"Naoya, leave my uncle alone," you scolded him gently, watching as he continued to rummage through his belongings. "And remember, in ten years, you'll be pushing forty, too." Naoya shot you a cold look but chose not to respond, instead focusing on selecting a set of clothes. As he prepared to change, you decided to broach the topic of his plans for the night. "So, are you really planning on going out tonight?" You asked, trying to hide your interest.

"Obviously," Naoya replied dismissively, as if the idea of not indulging in his usual festivities was absurd. "I'm not going to let a weekend away from Tokyo mess with my routine."

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to extend an unexpected invitation. "Can I come along?" You found yourself blushing, the fear of rejection, as if it even mattered coming from him, too much for you to handle.

Naoya raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your unexpected request. "Why the hell would you want to come?" He retorted, a tone of disdain in his voice. "It's not your scene."

You folded your arms, determined not to let his arrogance dissuade you. "Why not? I want to unwind, too, Naoya. Besides, I remember how much fun we had that night a few weeks ago. It might surprise you, but I can handle a bit of nightlife. It's like you said, why would I want to spend my wedding weekend sober?"

His eyes narrowed as he shot you a skeptical look. "That was a one-time thing. And I'm not interested in a repeat performance."

You rolled your eyes at his predictable response. "Relax, Naoya. I'm not expecting a repeat of our last escapade. I just want to have a good time and unwind a bit."

He sighed in frustration, realizing that arguing with you might be more trouble than it was worth. "Fine, but don't expect me to babysit you. You're on your own. And we're definitely not repeating anything from last time."

You smirked, seeing through his attempt to assert control. "Sure, Naoya. I'll find something to wear, and we'll see how much you can handle."

"Quickly, or I'm leaving without you," he warned, a hint of impatience in his tone as he began to undress.

You chuckled, heading to your suitcase to pick out an outfit. As you sifted through your clothes, Naoya finished dressing and stood to watch as you continued rooting through your things. He glanced at his watch, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Come on, Y/N. Time is ticking," he urged with an irritated expression.

Rolling your eyes, you selected an outfit and held it up. "How about this?"

He glanced at it briefly and nodded in approval. "Good enough. Now, hurry up. We're not here for a fashion show."

You rolled your eyes at his impatience, accustomed to his brash demeanor at that point. You proceeded to get undressed without a second thought. Naoya, however, found himself in an unexpected dilemma. His eyes involuntarily fixated on your form as you stood in your underwear, the sight stirring his dormant desires for you.

He quickly averted his gaze, a surge of frustration coursing through him. "You really don't care, do you?" He muttered under his breath, his voice laced with both desire and disdain.

You shot him a pointed look, unfazed by his comment. "Why should I? We've seen each other naked before," you retorted nonchalantly. And it's not like you don't do the very same to me...you thought.

Naoya's jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain composure, his mind battling against the conflicting emotions swirling within him. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to parade around like a slut," he remarked sharply.

Your expression hardened, a flash of anger igniting in your eyes. "Watch your mouth, Naoya," you snapped, your voice cold and firm. "I won't tolerate your disrespect."

Naoya's anger flared at your defiance, his ego wounded by your rejection of his authority. In a swift motion, he grabbed you by the arm, his grip tight and unforgiving, as he pulled you closer to him.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" He hissed, his tone dripping with venomous authority. "You're going to learn your place, Y/N. You're going to learn to obey me."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough grasp, his words sending a shiver down your spine. With your resources back at the Zenin estate, you were unarmed to defend yourself against his aggressive nature. You were physically strong, but you knew he was stronger. Despite the fear bubbling within you, you refused to cower before him.

"I'll do as I please," you retorted defiantly, your voice trembling with suppressed rage.

Naoya's grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Not anymore," he growled, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "You're going to be my wife, and you will do as I say."

You felt a surge of anger coursing through you at his arrogance, but you knew better than to provoke him further. With a deep breath, you forced yourself to remain calm, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "Let go of me, Naoya," you asserted, yanking your arm from his grasp with a determined force. "Neither of us wants this marriage, so let's just leave each other alone. I won't tolerate your attempts to control me."

Naoya's lips tightened into a thin line, his jaw clenched in frustration as he reluctantly obeyed, releasing you with a sharp exhale. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine.

"Hmph," he grunted, his gaze locked on you with resentment.

Ignoring his hostile glare, you focused on slipping into your dress, the fabric clinging to your skin as you struggled to get the zipper up your back. Frustration welled within you as the zipper stubbornly refused to cooperate, your fingers fumbling with the delicate mechanism.

Naoya's patience wore thin as he watched you struggle with the zipper, his irritation bubbling to the surface. With an exasperated sigh, he moved towards you, his steps heavy with frustration. Without a word, he grabbed you by the waist and forcefully turned you around to face away from him, his grip firm and unyielding.

Your heart raced as he suddenly pulled you closer, his proximity sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With one hand, he pushed your hair away from your back before settling it against your waist. His touch was rough, his fingers pressing into your skin with an intensity that bordered on painful. Despite the discomfort, you couldn't deny the heat that bloomed in your cheeks at his proximity. With a grunt of frustration, Naoya aggressively zipped up your dress, his movements rough and hurried. His hands lingered at your waist, his touch possessive and demanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

"There," he muttered curtly, "let's go."

His abruptness caught you off guard, leaving you standing there as he turned away without a second glance. You hurried behind him, fixing your hair along the way as you followed him toward the front gates of your estate.

As Naoya walked outside, you followed closely behind. His demeanor seemed more agitated than usual. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone while you pretended to adjust your dress while subtly eavesdropping on his conversation. His voice was hushed, but you strained to catch every word, your curiosity piqued by the secrecy of his tone.

"Yeah, it's me," Naoya muttered into the phone, his tone curt and businesslike. "I need a favor. I'm in Kyoto for the weekend, and I need to...unwind." You frowned at his choice of words, a nervous sensation settling in the pit of your stomach as you realized the true nature of his intentions. "Yeah, that's right. I need something to take the edge off," he continued, his voice tinged with impatience. "You know what I'm talking about."

Your heart skipped a beat as the realizationdawned on you. You panicked slightly, a subtle hint of interest alongside your usual disgust for his unfortunate habits. You continued following, slightly jogging to match his wide steps as he hurried toward the front of your estate.

"Just tell me where to meet you!" Naoya snapped, his frustration palpable even through the phone. "I don't have time for games!"

You recoiled at his aggressive tone, the reality of his true character becoming clear once again despite his brief tender moments of comforting you on the plane ride. Despite his rarely charming facade, Naoya was nothing more than a manipulative, entitled brat, willing to stoop to any level to satisfy his selfish desires.

After a brief exchange of information, Naoya hung up the phone with a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with anticipation. He turned to you, his expression masked with a false sense of nonchalance as he gestured for you to follow quicker. "Come on, Y/N. We're not getting any younger," he quipped as he sped up even quicker. He halted in his tracks when he realized he didn't know where he was going. "Where do you keep your damn cars?"

You rolled your eyes at Naoya's impatience, leading him toward the estate garage with an exasperated sigh. Inside, Naoya's expression shifted from annoyance to mild disbelief as he scanned the row of basic luxury cars, none of which met his expectations for a night out.

"Boring, I should've expected..." he grumbled under his breath.

You suppressed a smirk, shaking your head as you gestured toward a black BMW M4 that was tucked away in the corner. "That's Daisuke's car," you mumbled, grabbing the key from the hook by the door. "It'll have to do."

Naoya raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he turned to you. "Can you even handle driving this?" He chuckled lowly, his tone dripping with condescension. "Or are you going to scratch it like you did my LFA?"

You shot him a withering glare, your own patience wearing thin as you resisted the urge to snap back at him. With a deep breath, you ignored his taunts and climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a determined resolve. As Naoya put in a certain address into the GPS, your eyes widened in alarm as you glanced at the screen. "That's a seedy part of town, Naoya," you remarked, your voice tinged with nervousness as you pulled the car onto the road and began carefully driving down the street.

Naoya grumbled in response, his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he clenched his jaw. "I know," he muttered, "it's where I'm going to pick up the coke."

Your heart skipped a beat at his casual admission, your cheeks flushed with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "Speaking of...coke..." you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced at him every few seconds while driving. "Can I have some?"

Naoya's smirk widened at your request, amused by your sudden boldness. "Well, well, it looks like I've brought out the rebellious side of the Kamo's precious princess," he remarked with sarcasm as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, biting your lip nervously as you waited for his response. Despite your apprehension, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the prospect of indulging in something forbidden with him.

Naoya chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Sure, princess," he replied, his voice laced with mockery. "We can share some. But don't come crying to me if you can't handle it. I'm not going to babysit you."

You bristled at his condescending tone, a surge of defiance coursing through you as you met his gaze head-on. "Don't worry about me, Naoya," you retorted sharply. "Need I remind you of my technique? I think I can handle it...and if it becomes too much, I'll just flush it out of my system."

Naoya's smirk faltered slightly at your confident response, his eyes narrowing as he studied you intently. "Fine, suit yourself," he replied curtly, his tone betraying a hint of begrudging respect. "But don't say that I didn't warn you."

As Naoya finished speaking, you pulled in front of a dark set of office buildings, the ominous atmosphere immediately making the hair on your arms stand up. Naoya wasted no time, swiftly getting out of the car and disappearing into the shadows to meet with the mysterious figure. You watched nervously, biting the inside of your cheek as you awaited his return. Minutes felt like hours as you sat in the car, your heart racing with fear and anticipation.

Finally, he emerged from the darkness, a triumphant smirk plastered across his face as he brandished the baggie of cocaine like a trophy. "I got it," he declared proudly, his voice tinged with excitement. "Let's get this night started."

You swallowed nervously, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for the baggie. Naoya pulled it away with a teasing smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Not so fast, princess," he chided playfully. "I'll be the one in charge tonight."

You suppressed a sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that his ego would always come first. With a forced smile, you nodded in agreement, silently cursing yourself for getting involved in his reckless escapades once again. He shoved the baggie into his pocket and plugged in one of the clubs from Daisuke's list into the GPS and instructed you to get there. You complied without protest, driving through the dimly lit streets of Kyoto with a sense of unease gnawing at the pit of your stomach.

You expertly maneuvered the BMW into a tight parking spot, your hands steady despite the lingering nerves that prickled at your skin. As you paid for parking, your eyes darted around the unfamiliar surroundings, taking in the neon lights and pulsating music that spilled from the entrance to the club. Naoya, his excitement palpable, wasted no time in grabbing you roughly by the arm, pulling you toward the entrance with an impatient urgency. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden aggression, but swallowed your protest as you shot him a warning glare.

Once inside, the sensory overload hit you like a wave, the cacophony of music and flashing lights overwhelming your senses. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, the pulsating beat of the music reverberating through your bones. The club itself was a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and crowded dance floors, the walls adorned with neon signs that flickered with a hypnotic glow. People of all walks of life mingled together in a chaotic dance of bodies, their laughter and shouts blending into a symphony of chaos. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension as you followed Naoya deeper into the heart of the club. It was a side of Kyoto that you'd never seen before, a raw and untamed world that existed beyond the confines of your sheltered upbringing. This was your home like you'd never seen it before.

As you navigated through the throngs of people, Naoya abruptly pulled you to the side, his grip firm and possessive as he led you away from the prying eyes of the crowd. You opened your mouth to protest, but Naoya silenced you with a steely glare, his lips curling into a smirk of triumph. "Do you want this or not?" He demanded, his voice low and commanding as he produced the baggie of cocaine from his pocket, holding it tantalizingly close to you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you nodded nervously, your eyes locked onto the baggie in his hand. Despite your reservations, the allure of the drug was too powerful to resist, a forbidden temptation that promised to drown out the chaos of your thoughts.

As Naoya smirked at you, the neon lights dancing on his face, opened the baggie, the faint scent of the drug mingling with the sweat and alcohol that permeated the air of the club. Licking his thumb, he then placed it in the baggie, ensuring that the powder coated his skin before shoving the bag back into his pocket. With a firm grip on the nape of your neck, he pulled you closer, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as he held your head still. His eyes locked onto yours, a predatory gleam dancing in their depths as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Ready, princess?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. "This is gonna be one hell of a ride."

With that, he pressed his thumb against your gums, the powder transferring onto your flesh with a tantalizing warmth. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cocaine's roughness scratched against your sensitive gum-line. Naoya's thumb left your gums and he sensually licked the residual powder from it, his eyes never leaving yours. Within a few minutes, you began to feel the effects, a rush of euphoria washing over you like a tidal wave. The world around you blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations, the pulsating music fading into the background as you became lost in the intensity of the moment.

Naoya's smirk widened into a wicked grin as he watched the drug take hold of you, his fingers trailing lightly against your jawline as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Feel it yet, princess?" He taunted, his voice laced with a cruel edge that made you shiver. "Or are you too much of a fucking lightweight to handle it?"

You let out a shaky breath, your body humming with pleasure as you leaned into his touch, craving more than you should for the intoxicating sensation that only he could provide.

"Fuck you, Naoya," you whispered hoarsely, your words slurred with the effects of the drug. "I can handle anything you throw at me."

Naoya chuckled darkly and rubbed some of the cocaine onto his own gums. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. The drug took hold of you with an intensity that bordered on intoxicating, filling you with a sense of euphoria that eclipsed any sense of inhibition. As he pulled away, he murmured into your ear about how long the high would last, his words barely registering in the haze of pleasure that enveloped your mind. You nodded absentmindedly, your senses heightened and electrified by the rush of adrenaline that pulsed through your veins.

With a sly grin, Naoya disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to your own devices in the midst of the pulsating chaos of the club. You took a moment to steady yourself, the world spinning in a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations as the cocaine took full effect. Determined to make the most of the night, you decided to head to the bar and order a drink, the burn of alcohol mingling with the lingering warmth of the drug in your system as you allowed its effects to take hold. Each sip sent a thrill coursing through you, the combination of substances heightening your senses to a dizzying degree.

As you mingled on the dance floor, the music pulsating through you like a second heartbeat, you lost yourself in the music. Every movement you made felt fluid and effortless, a motion that carried you away on a wave of pure ecstasy. You felt alive in a way you'd never felt before, the weight of your responsibilities and obligations fading into insignificance as you surrendered to the hedonistic pleasures Naoya was well-accustomed to.

Dates: June 22-23, 2018 - Naoya and Y/N head off to a club in Kyoto where Y/N decides to try a little something new.

#naoya zenin x you #zenin naoya x you #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya zenin x y/n #zenin naoya x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #naoya zenin #zenin naoya

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rattlyglitch · 20 days ago

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Protector of the Beasts Ch 3: The Uses of a System

Wild Kratts Fanfiction

Summary: Riley tells Martin everything about the system that she calls Paw Print that proves how powerful it is.

An old wooden door creaked open giving way to an even older looking interior. At first glance the room seemed to be empty with the occasional flicker of some kind of faint light. But as soon as the main light that lit up the room was turned on the room showed a large area to its left was something that looked similar to a large black printer that had a white paw print symbol on it with a glowing blue outline and what looked like glowing blue veins on it.

To the right of the room were multiple computer screens that were turned off to its right. Riley stepped into the room first and looked around before allowing Martin to enter. “If you want to look at the system you can. I just have to get these computers up and running” Riley said before sitting in a computer chair and getting to work.

Martin carefully went over and inspected the contraption trying to see if it would have any kind of label about what it did or if there was a screen to show it. What Martin was glad to find though was a place where a hard drive could be inserted. He cast a gaze to Riley to make sure she wasn’t looking before quickly putting the drive into the system’s hard drive port that faced the wall. Perfectly hidden from being seen.

“So Riley, what exactly do you know about the tech? So far me and my bro have just heard how it helps national parks and wildlife preservation areas but we haven’t heard much else.” Riley turned to Martin with a look of excitement on her face and a wide grin.

“I would love to tell you about it. You see I’m not exactly sure who the creators of the ‘animal system’ are but what I do know is that they did an amazing job at making it. This thing can scan any type of animal or insect and have them put down as a name in their database and it’s possible to change the name if you want to and it can do other things.The only thing is I’m eighteen and technically only people who are twenty-one or older are supposed to be allowed to use this. So before I tell you anything else you have to promise me you won’t say anything about me using this.”

Martin raised a brow. “Why would you not be allowed to use the system?” Riley turned to Martin with crossed arms and shrugged. “Can’t tell you unless you promise not to tell anyone I help run the system. So if you want information you’ll promise.” Martin gave a hesitant smile. “I’ll promise but if it puts you or your grandparents in danger then the promise is off.”

Martin’s response seemed to be good enough for Riley. She typed something into a computer and a picture of the system’s inside workings pulled up. Martin quickly snapped a pic with his creature pod before hiding it in his hands. Riley turned to face him and smiled.

“You're free to take pictures. I'm not trying to hide anything just so you know. Basically though the system or as I like to call it Paw Print scans the DNA of any living thing. Any type of animal or insect can be put down as a name in the database and it’s possible to change the name if you want to. It also can find the ancestral tree of an animal that it has in its database.” On another screen Riley pulled up a picture of a rabbit named Zoe with a tree symbol, a house symbol, a symbol of fruit, a skull, and a box that had four lines with dots at the end of them.

“Take this rabbit for example. The tree symbol is her family tree, the lines are her current stats and any medicines or injuries found on her, the fruit symbol is the food that she eats mostly, the skull is for if she’s found to have died anywhere, and the house is to signify if Paw Print has found where her home is. The only thing it can’t detect are sicknesses. If we check the tree symbol then it’ll show us where the rabbit descended from.”

A simple click on the tree picture and the image of the rabbit sorted itself out and soon it showed a tree with a male rabbit at the top that descended down to Zoe and the four other rabbit’s. “Paw Print is pretty new but for some animal’s we’ve already started to get their family trees. It only detects a creature's trees though if the ancestors are found in the forest. As you can see Zoe and her siblings don’t have a mother, only a father. That’s because her mother hasn’t been found yet.”

Riley walked over to the machine with a smile on her face and typed something in. A sticker shot out of the machine that looked like the paw print logo on the machine. Riley looked over it before giving it to Martin. “Since you're so interested in the tech, I thought ya might like that and I forgot to mention it can print things out as well.” A smirk came across Riley’s face. She may have been in the room but her mind was somewhere else definitely. She was only brought back by the admiration for the machine in the room.

“I seriously love the bigger picture of this machine so much. You see, Paw Print here isn’t the full system actually. She’s part of a larger system. I don’t know what the larger system is like but it holds all the data that systems like Paw Print here gathers data and sends it to the larger thing. The smaller machines gather data like paw prints that lead to a larger animal.”

Riley sighed and her smile fell as she walked back over to her computer chair. “You’ve heard the normal part of Paw Print so now you get to learn the reason why people that are at least twenty-one are only allowed to use it.” Riley looked around the room nervously as if checking for hidden cameras before looking at Martin with a serious face.

“You really can’t tell anyone I’m in charge of Paw Print here. People who are twenty-one are supposed to be the only people using it because Paw Print doesn’t just take all the data of animals, it scans and stores people as well.” Martin guessed his expression made the question he had already known because Riley answered it immediately.

“Yeah, pretty shocking how a computer can do that. It doesn’t name a person but if anyone walks into the camera’s view it can tell whoever has the system every bit of information you saw that Zoe had except for where their home is. My grandparents only put Paw Prints cameras in places that are no trespasser designated areas and deletes any data on others who might get caught on the cameras.

Paw Print also doesn’t have access to any personal information unless the person it scans is part of the database already. That is where the having to be twenty-one part comes in. Whoever owns a system has to put their own personal data into Paw Print to make sure they’re of age and responsible enough to have a system and keep track of who to talk to if Paw Print needs maintenance done. Anyway that’s pretty much all Paw Print can do.”

Riley looked at Martin and snorted before bursting out into laughter. He knew the expression he had was probably more absurd than before but it had a good reason to be that way. Everything Riley had just described was a lot. “Y-you ok?”

Riley asked, trying to calm down her laughter. “Y-you’re fahahahace is going to get stuck that wahay.” Martin definitely made it worse cause now Riley was wheezing while gripping her stomach and trying not to fall out of her chair. “This is a lot! How are you able to not even freak out over this?!” Once Riley was able to calm down and only let out the occasional giggle she shrugged.

“I guess after freaking out over it several times before you kinda get used to it. I know how you feel though. Paw Print is a system that the creator should be proud of. So very very proud.”

////////////////

“You boys, be safe alright and come back anytime and tell Jimmy we say hi.” That was the last thing said to Martin and Chris before they left back to The Tortuga. It wasn’t far from Holly Forest and the walk was nice. Chris talked about everything that Mrs.Susan and Mr.Haidar had told him about the trees. He found out they even hosted a tree climbing competition and scavenger hunts sometimes during the summer whenever there were a lot of campers visiting.

“I’m guessing from the sound of it you definitely want to come back?” A grin came across Chris’ face. “Oh Martin, how could you ever have guessed?” he asked sarcastically. “Anyway what did you find out from Mrs.Susan and Mr.Haidar’s granddaughter? Also did you manage to get the hard drive into it?”

Martin presented the hard drive to Chris showing it in his hand. “I hooked it up but I’m not sure exactly what all I got. What Riley told me was probably a lot more than what’s on this hard drive. I also got some pictures of what she was telling me. I’ll explain everything once we get back to The Tortuga.” Martin didn’t talk much during the walk with Chris but his brother seemed to have plenty more things he had learned about Holly Forest.

It was expected by both brothers though for it to be chaotic inside The Tortuga but surprisingly it was peaceful. They may have seemed exhausted but Jimmy, Aviva, and Koki were interested in hearing about everything that had happened. “The animals were taken to several trusted shelters and are being looked after currently. They're all out of the worst of it” Aviva explained what Martin asked where all the animals were.

Once everyone was settled it was a long story to go through and Chris talked some about the Holly Forest before Martin got to talking about Paw Print. The others were all as awestruck as Martin was when he first heard when he had told them almost everything about Paw Print.

“There’s so much that could be done with a system like that. The fact that it even has a bigger system though where even more data is kept. It’s like The Tortuga’s system but times three! Do you know how big that must be?" Koki asked.

“We could find out so much about every animal and find out what kind of injuries they have probably so much quicker and be able to understand if there’s any dangerous kind of chemical that can’t react with another so much easier. Our scanners aren’t even as advanced as those seem" Aviva pointed out clearly impressed.

Both were obsessed over the idea of the tech. Aviva had been looking over the internal parts of the system and Koki was trying to figure out what kind of coding could have possibly been used to make a machine that great and have that much sorting ability.

Jimmy was interested as well. What Martin had told Jimmy seemed to leave him as surprised as the others but he was far more interested in what Chris had learned from Mrs.Susan and Mr.Haidar and hearing how they were doing. The Tortuga was a buzz for awhile and it wasn’t until the evening that it started to slow down.

Jimmy and Martin were playing video games in his room and Chris was watching while Aviva and Koki were talking more about the system which they had even started calling Paw Print. It was several games later when Chris left to get a snack that Jimmy asked Martin the first question he had for the Kratt Brother since he returned.

“You mentioned Riley was the one who talked with you about the whole system. I was wondering if you knew how she was doing.” Martin looked at Jimmy out of the corner of his eyes. He seemed a bit unsure of his own question that he had asked.

“As far as I could tell she seemed to be doing fine. She had a deep love for the tech she showed and beforehand she was wild and rambunctious. She had been out shooting a bow somewhere before being called over by her Jeddo.” Jimmy seemed to relax after what Martin had said, seeming relieved. “Why were you wondering though? Do you know her?” Jimmy tensed up a slight bit before nodding.

“Yeah I knew her once. She was a close friend of mine.”

ao3 WK fic

other chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

#Riley #jimmy z #chris kratt #martin kratt #wild kratts aviva #koki wild kratts

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silver--scar · 11 months ago

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Listen Up, New Kid

Part 1

South Park. A little mountain town located in the state of Colorado, infamous for its... many wild events.

What a perfect place this family picked to live in.

After many hours of packing and unpacking, boxes being passed around between many adults, a little boy weaved between them to make his way inside their new, two-story home. The house was a bright shade of red, but inside was a gaudy tint of purple. A new paint job was definitely due.

The boy continued his way up the stairs, following a mover into his new bedroom as they set a box down with the other pile. It was pretty vacant, nothing too special in size. Normally, most kids would be excited to be in a new place, or saddened to leave their old home behind, but this empty room only added on to the sense of unexplained loneliness to the kid. And even he didn't know why.

Walking up to a window, he scanned the outside area from this new vantage point. Snowy, lined with similar looking houses that may have well been copied and pasted, each a varying color.

One can only imagine what happens next in this little town.

"Sweetie? Hon, you all dressed?"

A knock and the sound of his mother's voice interrupted his thoughts. He moved away to stand in the middle of the room, the door opening as his parents let themselves in. "Hey, champ!" His dad greets. "How do you like your new room?" The boy glanced around one last time. He really didn't know what to think. It was nice, he supposed? They just moved after all.

His mom and dad shuffled awkwardly as they tried to move the conversation along. "I know it's a big change for all of us, but... do you remember why we moved to this quiet little mountain town?"

He blinked, a dart of confusion crossing his mind. He didn't like the way they worded that sentence. They only moved because they wanted a calmer life from the city. He can remember the stressed arguments of his parents in their bedroom long ago. Well, he can't recall why they argued. Surely the cramped lifestyle was the straw for them to move. He can vaguely remember his mother making a comment about it here and there.

His mother's voice snapped him out of it again. "Uhh, sweetie, we want you to have lots of fun here. Why don't you go out and make some friends?" She suggests. "Right, get outside and play, son. Like, like normal kids," his dad added on. "We've got some money for you on the kitchen counter, sweetie. Just, be back before it gets dark."

They walk on back downstairs as their son gives a small wave behind them. Whether they see or not, it didn't matter. After a moment of getting himself situated, exploring his home, grabbing the bits of change on the kitchen counter, and narrowly avoiding his dad forcing him out of the house, he stands on his front lawn. It seemed quite calm for-

"You shall die by my warhammer, Drow Elf!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"I banish thee to the forest realm!"

"No way! I banished you first!"

The boy turned to the direction the sound came from as he walked out to the sidewalk. From there, he could see two kids playing some sort of game of pretend. They both wore makeshift costumes, an elf and some sort of warrior. He couldn't quite place it. They were engaged in a battle, hammer and sword swinging around until the blond warrior fell the ground with a meak sound. From there the other child just started wailing on him. It honestly made the newcomer watch on with shock. He had to stop it.

He quickly ran forward as the little kid yelped and cried for help, delivering a surprise punch to the bullying elf. He stumbled back, either from the pain or being ambushed, a glare of annoyance in his eyes. "Hey, no fair, that's cheating! I'm gonna tell my mom!" The elf whined before scurrying off.

So much for first impressions in this town, but that wasn't currently on his mind. The boy knelt down to help the other, careful not to touch a bruise or welt. The blond child huffed for a moment as he dusted himself off. "Thanks, kid. I didn't realize he had a health potion."

He took a second to scan the newcomer with a smile now on his face. "My... my name is Butters the Merciful. I'm a paladin. I live right next door to you. We should be friends!"

Oh. A friend! That was pretty easy.

Before the kid could speak, Butters took a step back down the sidewalk as he pointed down the road. "Now that we're friends, you should speak with the Wizard King. He's been talking about your arrival. The Wizard lives this way, in the green house over there."

He leaned over Butters's shoulder, noticing the house he spoke of in the distance. He could also see the top of a cardboard tower in the backyard. That must be where he would be led to.

Butters didn't wait for the boy to follow. As they walked together, he sent by a flurry of questions to the new child. Where he was from, where'd he live before, why he wore his hair the way he did. It honestly made him feel a little dizzy, to be honest, trying to at least get an answer in or even remember them. Now that he thought about it, where was he from?

"You don't talk much, do ya? That's okay, I can talk enough for both of us," Butters chirped as they approached the house. A relieved breath escaped the boy, both for the onslaught of questions to stop, and the fact that he wasn't much of a talker to begin with. Thank goodness for that.

The door to the green house suddenly opened, revealing a portly kid in stitched robes and a blue wizard hat which was definitely compensating for something. Already, the boy could feel a sense of indignance and disgust from this wizard, even from the way he looked at the newcomer while Butters did an obviously scripted announcement for them. "So, you are the new kid. Your coming was foretold by Coldwell Banker," the chubby boy greeted. "I am the Wizard King. But the time for talk is not nigh. Let me show you my kingdom."

The trio moved to step inside. It was a quaint little home, furnished with love and looked after with care. "Oh, who's your new friend, Eric?" A woman cooed as she was sat on the couch, but the wizard rudely marched past her. "Shut up, mom, not now." The new boy tried to offer a polite hello but was promptly grabbed by the wrist and dragged off by Eric when he faltered. "Don't talk to her. She's not part of the game."

Jeez. So much for hospitality.

They make it through the kitchen and out to the backyard, the sliding door revealing the area. It took the kid's breath away from how grand it all seemed. "Welcome, to the Kingdom of Kupa Keep!" The wizard boasted.

A giant tent stood at the back against the wooden fence, with even larger cardboard walls that resembled castle walls surrounding it. Dummies were darted on the lawn towards the right, and a sandy pen settled on the left housing a gray cat that just sunbathed calmly. There was no way the wizard set this all up by himself.

Of course, the trio wasn't alone. There was another set of kids in the backyard with them. The new kid could tell just by their outfits that they had set roles within this complex game of make believe. Eric and Butters showed him around, introducing him to the other players. A knight was sat off by a table 'cleaning' a wooden blade, while a freckled ranger was sat by the pen, trying to coax the cat to come closer so he could pet it. And stood by the entrance of the 'castle' was a shorter boy in a wrinkled dress and a poofy wig which sat over the hood of his jacket. It was a bit of a weird sight for the newcomer, but it wasn't like it bothered him.

They all stop by the opening of the tent, Eric standing in the middle between the princess named Kenny and Butters. "You have been sought out, new kid, because humans everywhere are in great danger," Eric explained as he struck his staff into the ground. "I heed something from you, and, in return, I am prepared to allow you into my kingdom. I know you are very excited. It's time for your first quest, but first, please tell us thy name..."

The boy felt his eyes widen. He couldn't lie, he was pretty excited. His first day in South Park, and he was thrown into the midst of an important battle. And it all starts when he gives a name. It had to be a good one. Creative but not too unique that he felt like a main character. So many possibilities!

"What was that? You said your name was 'Douchebag'? Is that correct?"

What?

The boy scowled. He didn't even utter a breath yet! He opened his mouth to retort as Eric was cupping his ear to listen, but the wizard quickly leaned back with a smug smile. "You sure you want to keep the name 'Douchebag'?" He interrupted, Butters snickering behind his hand off to the side.

This was impossible. The new boy decided it was not worth arguing with Eric. He had a sense it would've been pointless. With a quiet scoff, he glanced off to the side and accepted his fate.

They continue to explain the game some more to the kid, all the way from classes, to weapons, how they fight, and the precious, all powerful, Stick of Truth. An object the humans must guard in order to win the war, which was sat atop a velvet pillow inside the tent, hidden away from the wrong hands.

Well, it was after the newcomer recieved and delivered many bruises during training when things started going wrong. There was a sound beyond the fence of the backyard. Chanting, yelling of other kids. It was growing louder.

"ALARM! ALARM! ALARM! The elves are attacking!" Butters cried out. Eric cursed under his breath as he shoved past the newcomer to witness the attack himself.

"Man the gates! Don't let them through! Clyde, guard the Stick of Truth while we defend the fortress!"

"Aye, aye!"

"'Aye, aye'? We're not playing pirates, Clyde!"

The new kid rolled his eyes. While they were busy arguing, he got to work. He saw this as a chance to prove himself to the others, and maybe gain an opportunity to change his god awful name, Douchebag. Brandishing his wooden dagger from his choice of the thief class, he sprinted forward to help Butters, who was losing against a kid because he "didn't want to make them feel bad". He sent a rough stab to the elf's back while they were distracted. A shrill squeak left the elf as the cardboard crumpled and scraped against him, whirling around with a face of anger. "You can't just do that!" He complained, but Butters scrambled back to his feet and struck his hammer against the elf's head. The young elf quickly crumpled with a groan while blood poured from his head. The new boy would be lying if he said he didn't feel queasy at the sight, but he had no time to focus on this haphazard way of fighting.

The battle between humans and elves continued until an elf ranger called for a retreat. The invaders ran away, and the ones that were knocked out weakly stood to their feet to join their teammates. Eric began a taunt as the backyard became empty again, doing a childish dance as everyone regrouped.

A victory. His first victory. The newcomer couldn't feel any more proud for holding his own in this new way of playing dress up. It was dangerous, but there was a thrill to how real it all felt. Maybe it'll all be smooth sailing from here on out.

"It's gone."

Everyone looked to Clyde the knight. Even Eric was quick to pause in his celebration.

"The Stick of Truth. The elves got it."

An uneasy feeling rose in the air. At first, the boy couldn't tell why, but one quick look made it clear. Eric looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. The new kid took a subtle step back. He knew this wasn't going to be pretty.

"THAT WAS YOUR ONE GOD DAMNED JOB, CLYDE! TO GUARD THE STICK OF FUCKING TRUTH!" Eric shrieked in Clyde's face. There was a pause as the wizard king paced around before he waved his staff in front of Clyde, nearly smacking him in the face. "Clyde, you are hereby BANISHED FROM SPACE AND TIME!" The knight stared with his mouth agape, struggling to find some sort of word. "Wh-What? NO! You can't do that!" He huffed out with clenched fists. They continue to argue, with Butters adding unneeded comments until Clyde stormed off, tossing his helmet away with frustration towards Scott the ranger. He yelped as he nearly dropped it on the snowy ground but held it close to his chest while everyone watched Clyde leave.

The boy felt bad. It was a hectic fight for everyone, and they were severely outnumbered. Keeping the stick safe was slim to none. However, he was snapped out of his thoughts as Eric continued to vent his frustrations. He was saying something about getting the Stick of Truth back and gathering the rest of the human army, but the new kid only caught on to the last bit. "-go out into the neighborhood and find my greatest warriors. Tolkien, Tweek, and Craig. Give me your phone. I'll text you their pictures to your personal inventory device."

Ugh. The last thing he wanted to do was give Eric his phone number, but after witnessing the entire bout with Clyde, he didn't want to exactly meet the same fate. The newcomer dug out his phone, let the wizard do his thing, and quickly snatched it back. A nasty glare was sent his way by Eric for a single second before he waved the new kid off. "Beware, Douchebag. The lands outside are full of marauding drow elves, monsters, and sixth graders. Be sure you are well equipped. Now go! And send my warriors here!" Eric turned to reorganize his backyard with Princess Kenny and Scott before he added, "And take Butters with you! He needs the experience!"

And now, the new boy was alone.

He looked around, taking in everything that has happened the past few minutes. It was a lot to process. South Park was certainly starting to live up to its infamous name, and this was only with the children of the town. Who knows what will happen when he meets everyone else?

Shaking the thought away, the boy walked over to Butters. He gave a small wave, and just like he assumed, the paladin spoke for him. "Wha-? You want me to come with you? Okay! Lead the way!" He chirped, springing to his feet as he holstered his hammer. Together, the two kids left Eric's home to explore South Park in its entirety, with the new kid in the lead.

He was ready to get the stick back, to make friends, to hopefully settle in his new life of living in South Park.

This was a fresh start for the newcomer. The new kid named Ashton Roscoe.

-----

(Yeah, this is gonna be a fanfic between my oc and my sister's Tootsy. Like I mentioned in a previous post, it'll all mainly be a TFBW story focusing around them two rather than just retelling the game's plot. And like I mentioned in another post, I'm not all that good at writing fanfiction, but I'm gonna do it anyway. Hope you guys like it if you are interested :D)

#south park #new kid south park #silvergrade ocs #sp new kid #new kid sp #south park new kid #sp oc #south park ocs #south park oc #sp ocs #south park original characters #south park original character #ashton roscoe #south park fanfiction #fanfic #sp fanfiction

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