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snarkwrites · 4 years ago

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ssw | embry call; he looks down. she looks up.

NOTES:

I preface with the following.. I am not a medical professional. I have never had any kind of amnesia, temporary or otherwise. So.. yeah. Anyway.. the tldr here is this idea came to me and it’s weird and i didn’t know what to think of it at first but honestly, having written it out now I kind of like it? And I think it’s gonna be a short series... kinda? Allow me to elaborate.. normally, for the ssw prompts I use like 3 or four six word sentences as ideas / parts of the oneshot, etc but with this one, I think I’m going to use one for each part because I did that with this one and I like the way it came out? Since I had four other equally good prompts chosen for the doc I started with him, I’m just gonna use the rest of those to kinda continue this? To an extent?

Anyway, enough rambling.

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ].

Inspiration / prompt used here was He looks down. She looks up.

FANDOM/CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OC, Merisa.

WARNING:

Amnesia tw. Injuries mentioned very vaguely. Beyond that, I guess mutual pining / a kinda slow burn and mentions of a jerk soon to be ex boyfriend.. Embry and this original character are both adults, approx 23-24 years in age just in case anyone’s wondering...

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The last thing I remember is hitting a water pocket. My head bouncing off the steering wheel. The sound of metal groaning and glass shattering before everything went totally black.

And now, upon awakening, everything is foggy... At first,I can’t remember my name, where I was going or where I came from. I can’t even remember what day or year it is.

When I really started to come to, everything hurt. From the roots of my hair all the way to the tips of my toes. I grimaced as I pulled myself up in bed. My stomach was growling. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room and the scent of bacon frying only worsened the pronounced hunger I was feeling.

“Where am I?” I muttered to myself as I gingerly made an attempt to slip out of bed. But the second my bare feet connected with aged and cold wooden floorboards, the mild pain I’d been feeling only intensified. When the door to the room creaked open quietly, I was just getting back into bed.

The man standing in the doorway didn’t spark a shred of recognition. God do I wish he did because I like to think that if I even have a type, he has to be it. He kind of looks like a man you’d find gracing the cover of the cheap erotica I read.

At the realization that I’d just remembered something, even if it was something insignificant, I was laughing softly at myself and shaking my head about it. I took a deep breath.

“Uh.. hi.” I muttered finally, just to break the silence and the sudden thickening of the air around us.

He hadn’t broken his gaze or made a step into the room. When I spoke up, he jumped a little as if I’d startled him. My brow raised and I tried again. “Do I know you?”

“Not likely. Not well, I mean...” the guy answered after a second or two of hesitation.

I blew at a strand of hair fallen down in my eye. Dragged my fingers through my hair as I mulled it over. “Okay, let’s try this… How did I get here?”

“How much do you remember?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me. Avoiding the question I’d asked. I swallowed hard and really tried to think. Trying to grasp at anything, any shred of a memory.

I remembered the sound of metal groaning. Glass shattering. The icy chill of water as it lapped at my feet. Feeling like I was about to die at any second. My brows knit in frustration and the guy was at my side in seconds. Sitting hesitantly on the bed near me. Close but not close enough for my liking somehow.

I pouted about it for a second or two and pushed it to the side, taking a deep breath. ��I was in a wreck, wasn’t I?”

“Mhm. You almost died, actually.”

“I thought so. Okay, now it’s your turn.. Where am I?”

“You’re in La Push.”

The words stirred little bits. Fragments of memory. An older woman with a kind but aging face. The smell of bourbon and a man with long black hair shouting at another woman. Stepping forward like he was going to shove her at any second. A little girl crouched out of sight behind furniture until the older woman picked her up and carried her out. And I knew without knowing somehow that the little girl was me.

I grimaced. Both in confusion and irritation that I couldn’t remember more. Because whatever I’d just recalled felt like it happened a lifetime ago and not recently.

How old was I?

“You remembered something, huh?” he asked, studying me quietly. A look of concern on his face.

“I think… But it doesn’t answer anything I’m wondering at the moment.” I sighed and took a deep breath. Asked another question after a few seconds that seemed to drag on forever. “What’s your name?”

“Embry.”

Another random trivial memory surfaced. The woman was there again. Introducing me to a group of boys who were all dirty from playing in the mud. I strained to focus. Honing in on the fact that she introduced me to the group as her granddaughter. My name was Merisa.

I cheered a little in triumph, forgetting for just the briefest of moments that I was literally a breathing ball of pain at the moment when I shot up off the bed to pump my fist in the air. Embry’s hand caught on my hips and he managed to keep me from crashing to the floor.

He smiled. A smile so bright that it seemed to bring light to the dullness of the room we were in. A smile, I found myself thinking, I’d give anything to see again.

“Easy. Whoa. The doctor said you’ve got some pretty gnarly injuries.” Embry scolded as he looked down at me in concern.

I nodded. Excited when I opened my mouth and started to babble about remembering my name. Remembering my grandmother and possibly growing up here in town. And on the heels of the happy came the sad.

A casket. A graveside service with gray clouds overhead and a fine mist of rain. Feeling numb and empty. Angry for some reason. This had me frowning. Shaking my head sadly.

“She’s dead.” I muttered the words. Deflated. Numb all over again.

Embry watched me like I was a landmine waiting to be triggered, his brow raising as if something I’d remembered was wrong but he didn’t dare tell me so. Sitting up like he was on high alert. Like he wanted to move closer. To attempt to offer comfort. But he didn’t dare.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I raised my hand and stopped it midway. Taking a few shaky breaths. The night of the accident came flooding back, the gaps filling themselves in as it did. I’d been crying when I left my mom’s funeral. Trying to call my grandmother. But I remembered that she was at a tribal meeting and she didn’t keep her phone turned on during tribal meetings. I must have taken my eyes off the road for a second, tops. The car hit a water pocket and went off the road. Hitting trees and flipping over a time or two before settling at the bottom of a steep hill. Next to water. Someone was pulling me out of my car. I recognized in an instant that Embry had been the one to pull me out. I remembered that he volunteered with fire and rescue.

I went quiet as I finished telling him what I was remembering. Wiping at my eyes.

And then it hit me. I didn’t really know Embry well but I did know of him aside from the fact that he pretty much saved my life the night of my accident... He was also the quiet kid down the street. One of the boys my grandma introduced me to that day.

“I do know you, actually.” I smiled at him softly, wiping at my eyes. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t mention that I knew he saved my life.

“Yeah, but not well. Kind of why I figured you’d have a meltdown when your grandma asked me to sit with you while she was out.” Embry muttered quietly. Leaning in just a little. His hand raised. A thumb rolling over my cheek as he wiped away another tear. Our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat.

“So we’re at my grandma’s. My old room.” I looked around at the room again and it felt right. From the books piled on my desk, an erotic novel turned face up and open where I’d left off reading to the posters tacked up on the wall. A contrast to my apartment I realized as soon as I started to remember the fact that I lived in Seattle.

I racked my brain trying to remember whether anyone there would be worried or missing me. I felt like there was someone waiting back there, but at the same time, I felt like maybe being here was better than being there.

Like whoever it was that might be waiting was someone I wanted to get away from.

“Greg called.” Embry spoke up after a second or two. He dragged his hand through long black hair as he held my gaze. A slightly irritated look on his face at even mentioning the guys name. “He wanted me to make sure I didn’t forget to tell you.” Embry chuckled at this, going quiet again.

When he said the name Greg, the mental image flooded my mind and my previous thought about someone waiting in Seattle proved correct. Greg was my boyfriend and honestly, he was a bit of an asshole. Uptight and moody. A bit on the controlling side under the guise of ‘this is for your own good’. I immediately started to remember a huge fight we had because apparently, he wasn’t happy about me coming back to the reservation for my mom’s funeral. Leaving him. But he refused to come along with me because to quote him “It’s not my type of thing.” and “I’m not good at emotional stuff, Mer.”

I grumbled and shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to talk to that bag of dicks.” I muttered, brushing it off. More concerned with my own current situation than I was with calling Greg to check in. It wasn’t as if he’d magically care enough to come anyway, he hadn’t come back with me for my mom’s funeral. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth because I remembered several instances in a rush. All of them were me, giving up something I wanted because Greg insisted on it.

,, Christ, why am I even with this mega asshole? I mean.. My grandma lives next to the literal embodiment of sex...” the thought had me perplexed because I didn’t remember enough to really pinpoint a good reason. Something told me that may or may not be a blessing in disguise. From the little I was able to recall about Embry, I found myself wondering why I wasn’t with him or someone like him instead.

Seattle must have changed me a lot. And apparently, not for the better. Why had I even left La Push to begin with?

And then I remembered.. My mom met another guy and we wound up moving to a military base in Seattle. And we moved around so much that I never really got to spend much time with my grandma because we were too far away to make the trip back and too broke to afford it. So leaving La Push hadn’t ever been my choice.

“Yeah, he seemed like an asshole.” Embry muttered, his gaze settling on his legs. The tension between us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe. My breath actually caught in my throat for a second or two and desperately, I tried to come up with something to say. Anything.

“I smelled food…” I muttered quietly. Looking down just as he looked up after I’d said it. He chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to mentioning you’re hungry. Your stomach’s been growling for a while now.”

My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip, nodding. Embry stood and eyed me for a few seconds. “Do you think you can make it?”

“I don’t know..” just the thought of even trying to stand again given my amount of pain had me tensing a little. Quickly and gracefully, Embry grabbed hold of me, scooping me into strong arms. Carrying me down the hallway and into the dining room. He sat me down in a chair and made his way into the kitchen.

He came back out a few minutes later with a plate full of food. I eyed it hungrily and he sat down, taking a sip from a glass of orange juice. I dug into my food and more than a few times, I felt the weight of his stare. At one point, it prompted me to look up and meet his gaze, both of us laughing.

“What?” I asked, swallowing the bite I’d just taken.

“You act like you haven’t eaten in years.” Embry replied, giving me a teasing smirk as he spoke.

“I haven’t eaten anything this tasty.” I replied, wiping at my mouth because I felt syrup on the corner. “Sorry, this is good. So good.” I groaned through another big bite. Promptly almost choking.

With a chuckle, Embry reached over, patting me between the shoulders until I stopped coughing and when our eyes met again, he teased quietly, “Can you stop trying to die on me?”

I gulped. Getting lost in his eyes and almost not managing the nod I gave in response. “Yeah.” I muttered quietly. That tension I felt before only grew thicker. Mostly to ease it and try to keep a conversation going, I took a slice of bacon and held it out to him. “C’mon. Eat a little. I feel bad, sitting here pigging out and you’re not eating.”

He eyed me and took the bacon. Biting into it as he answered, “I ate earlier.” and shrugged it off.

The door to the house opened and my grandmother stepped inside. Dropping everything to rush over and give me a tight hug. I hugged back just as tight. “Ouch yikes.. Grandma…” I muttered. She laughed sheepishly, pulling away. Looking at me and wincing as if she felt my pain.

“At least you’re alive.” she mused. “You can stay here while you heal. I’d rather you stay here while you heal.”

I nodded, happy to agree to it. If I were to go back to Seattle, I didn’t see Greg being much help at all. Besides, I thought to myself, La Push is home. I never wanted to leave to start with.

Embry was silently making his way towards the door and my grandmother stopped him. “Thank you for sticking around today, Embry.”

“It’s not a problem. If you need me, I’m right down the road.” he answered, giving my grandmother a smile. As he said it, we locked eyes all over again. I shuffled my feet. But I didn’t look down or away. I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

Almost as soon as the door was closed behind him, my grandmother turned her attention to me. Lecturing me about my choice in men. Filling me in on the fact that apparently my ‘lover’ couldn’t be bothered to come and see that I was safe or even alive but damned if he wasn’t calling every ten minutes demanding me to call him back. Irritated because my grandmother apparently told him at one point if he wanted to talk to me so badly, he knew where I could be found. “He’s a bum.”

I sighed and nodded. Dropping my gaze to the glass of orange juice in front of me. “I know. I wish I could remember what the hell made me choose him…”

My grandmother eyed me in concern. After going through a long list of questions, noting the ones I had trouble recalling easily for my follow up with the hospital, she sighed. “At least you remember enough. And you’re still with me. If I lost you that night…” she paused.

I got the feeling that she wasn’t good at emotional things either. But unlike Greg, she did manage to show she cared in her own way.

“But you didn’t. I’m going to be alright.” I reassured her and she nodded. When the phone rang, we shared a look at let it keep ringing.

“If you want to talk to him, Merisa..”

“I think I’d rather focus on myself and healing for a change. Getting my whole memory back. I get the feeling if I talk to him, it’s only going to stress me out.” I admitted after a long pause.

The phone went silent.

My grandma cleared away the dishes and found the crutches that the doctor had given me to use in the aid of getting around. Then she went over all the things the doctor told her about my injuries and the healing process.

“What about my memory?” I asked, curious. Anxious to know what I might be up against. Grateful that I remembered the most basic things about myself that I kind of needed to know.

“The doctor thought you might have some memory loss. I believe he said it would be short term because of the side of your brain the injury occurred in? With a little time and patience you’ll be fine.” my grandmother slipped an arm around me and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “Maybe the parts you don’t remember clearly are a blessing, yeah?”

I eyed her, considering what she said. She might not be entirely wrong…

“Embry’s always been a kind young man. Quiet. Respectful.” my grandmother mused after a few seconds of quiet. I gave a soft laugh and muttered, “Yeah. He seemed like a good guy.”

I won’t bother lying.. I hope I see more of Embry while I’m staying here at my grandmother’s… Something tells me I definitely will...

#embry call #embry call x oc fanfiction #embry call imagine #embry call fanfiction #embry call x oc imagine #embry call imagines #embry call fanfic #embry call x oc fanfic #my writing ; embry call #my fanfiction ; embry call #my oneshots ; embry call #my fics ; embry call #my imagines ; embry call #// amnesia tw #// vague injuries tw #// embry is an adult here fyi.#// pt 1 of 4?5?#// i haven't quite decided yet. i do know i yearn to write fluffy filth for this somehow

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purplecatghostposts · 4 years ago

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Fucked Up SAO AU Thoughts: Team Getting To Know Each Other Edition

- As stated before, other than knowing each other’s Twitch Names and knowing well known things about each other, the team doesn’t really know each other

- Before the ResCas (Resonance Cascade), they all sit down and find out the basics- basically the kind of stuff you’d put in an introduction (Name, Age, important stuff, etc.)

- Gordon: Oh, and one fun fact about yourself

Bubby: My fun fact is that I would rather gut myself then tell you a fun fact- leave the ‘Fun Fact’ shit back in the first day of middle school where it belongs

Gordon: ...you must be fun at parties huh

- They don’t all get along right away to say the least. At first Tommy seems to get along with everyone but uh-

- Coomer, upon seeing an NPC that has a similar character model: *Getting ready to punch them* MY CLONE

Tommy, who doesn’t want to kill any of the NPCs: DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE

- Yeah there’s a bumpy road of getting to know each other while also being stuck in a video game.

- Benrey: Maybe we should play uh... One of those party games to get to know each other. Never Have I Ever or some shit

Bubby: Absolutely not

*Not even five minutes later, the team is playing Never Have I Ever. Bubby is sulking but playing along.*

- Benrey: I have a plan to speed the process of the game up

Gordon: I’m all ears

Benrey: Okay, hear me out but first off, we all need to start seducing all the NPCs

Gordon: I am no longer all ears, what the fuck

Benrey: Bro... Bro I said hear me out-

- Tommy being born on Leap Day is canon to this AU specifically for:

Benrey: Wait hold on... So you’re like, five

Tommy: I’m 32

Bubby: *Smirking* Oh sorry, you’re eight, our mistake

Tommy: It doesn’t work like that-

Coomer: Our little Tommy~

Gordon: And here I thought I was the youngest of the group!

Tommy: *Sharply inhales* You’re all dead to me.

*Cue the rest of the group wheezing*

- Benrey of course makes the connection of, “So your last name is Freeman... And everyone wants a feet cam for you... So I guess you could say you’re...”

Gordon, who knows where this is going: please don’t-

Benrey: Gordon Feetman?

The nickname sticks in the group a little too much for Gordon’s liking

- There’s a lot of adjustment issues to being in the game too, everyone has their own major problem with it

- Coomer is heavily worried they won’t make it out- either by dying or that they could possibly be stuck in the game forever (I.E. “If you could be stuck in any video game... What video game would you choose?” Conversation still happens but it’s a bit different). However, Coomer has trouble raising these concerns and instead covers it up by charging head first into battle and having “boundless confidence”

- Benrey has trouble sleeping at night because his dreams are either surreal or he has none at all and Benrey hates that. Benrey attempt to skip sleeping- “We’re in a video game, why do we even need to sleep”- but forgets that it’s their new reality and he only has so much time left before he passes out because of it (This likely happens at the worst possible time). Not to mention, as first person to get down to one life left, Benrey has a lot of anxieties about actually dying that don’t help.

- Bubby is still claustrophobic as hell and given Half Life has a bunch of vents the team needs to climb through, he’s constantly tense but won’t say a word about it because he’s kinda embarrassed about it. To the rest of the group, it’s like Bubby always has a stick up his ass but they don’t know why- is he just always snappy? It takes them a while to figure out but it’s a sudden “OH” moment that finally makes everything make sense.

- Tommy takes the reality of the game to heart and wants to help these poor NPCs who just keep dying or who don’t want to travel too far from where they’re spawned in because they’re scared and it’s just kinda hard. Half Life is a pretty dark game, a lot of Scientists are left behind or stuck in Black Mesa and Tommy kinda has to come to terms with the fact that he can’t save everyone. Tommy has to focus on the people he can save- his team of people who can escape the game. Doesn’t make it any less hard but it helps.

- Gordon takes on a role of Leader of the Team and does everything he can to make sure everyone’s gonna make it out. He stresses when they get hurt and especially when they lose a life and kinda takes it as a personal loss. Gordon so badly wants to escape the game but not without everyone else who’s stuck here. Not to mention, once Darnold and Forzen join the group, two NPCs who only have one life unlike the rest of them, his stress level goes up. He wants to protect them all, even if it means he has to make personal sacrifices

- For each of these, the group decides to sit down and talk about it- no beating around the bush, this is a life or death situation, dammit. And because of it, there’s a bond that forms between them. They gotta have each other’s backs- take care of each other, because who else will?

- Benrey has minor trouble with the Sweet Voice because it tends to flare up when they’re feeling intense emotions and Tommy is starting to pick up on what it means- no- no Tommy do not translate what pink to blue means I beg of you-

- Bubby has similar trouble but with fire. Yeah. He keeps accidentally catching things on fire because Coomer is far too attractive when he’s punching aliens and openly admitting to being arrested for assaulting a homophobe at pride parade

- Gordon’s mildly annoyed with Benrey at first because they keep making jabs at him specifically and calling him Feetman and he just doesn’t really get them at first. But damn, Benrey’s kinda cute and funny sometimes and oh shit they just took of their helmet and they’re kinda hot oh s h i t Gordon likes Benrey-

- Coomer’s trying so hard to flirt with Bubby because he’s exactly his type but they keep sounding like platonic complements and Coomer can’t seem to outright say “Bubby, I have feelings for you” because it keeps coming out with stuff like, “Bubby, I- I think you’re very neat!” so instead he just keeps watching him lovingly set things on fire from afar, oh he’s so stunning, isn’t he?

- Tommy watches all of them fall in love with each other and trip over each other like idiots- ha, good thing he’s not doing that. Though it is really cute when Darnold starts going on and on about potions and is taking with such passion or when Forzen’s eyes light up when Tommy finally manages to show him what a bayblade is and oh gODDAMMIT-

But yeah this team cares about each other a lot and they also mercilessly tease each other like they should

#SB Speaks #SB Rambles #Fucked Up SAO AU #man I need a better title #long post #*slaps AU* you could fit so much found family in this!#death m #Im going berserk with this and I apologize

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sassaetcie · 4 years ago

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The Ashes of the Oven : Silver x Idia as a play with Lilia as the main actor - 2

heyo it’s the second part, enjoy

Scene IV

One of Diasomnia main building's balconies

LILIA, aside: Ah everyone, everyone in this small area has fallen asleep again! They say ignorance is bliss, but I guess, so is sleep. Sweet, sweet children, rest well, dream well, for your dreams may be a fragment of this poor reality, or reality may be a fragment of dreams. What an old man I am, again and forever! Is this wind cold? Warm? Lukewarm? Is my skin dreading this poor, stuck, motionless tredging wind? Or is my blood fearing for such an eternal, limited, foe? Ah! Who comes! Who may you be, student of my dorm... my fellow!

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Oh, sir Lilia. I apologize, I heard something and thought it was... some intruder creeping toward our balconies.

LILIA: Do not worry, this is small potatoes. You can go back, there is nothing but myself here. What is your name, if I cannot recall it at all? I am an old, old, chap, after all.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Oh, nothing of great matter, I'll be going back to the dorm.

LILIA: Please, do, young one. But indeed, your name may not be that much of a matter. I see you are diligent, and know immediatly of your susbtance. Would it have been easier with your "name", or any word at all? I wonder, I do not think so. For these words are after all, Words. And words are words upon everything, and yet everything might as well be a lie.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Do you mean my name is truly worthless, in the end, sir?

LILIA: All of our names are useless in the end, young one! Would you be called "Rose" and yet be fast, talking a lot, crushing flowers, including roses? Why would you wear such a name? Isn't that a blatant lie? Look at me, Lilia Vanrouge! Is there something red in me, on this fae body? Even the compass is not a compass! It cannot lead us anywhere, it barely leads us nowhere! But pray, go and recover through slumber again, my lad. You will be exhausted tomorrow, won't you? Your poor little thing.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Y-yes, I'll take my leave... Good night, sir Lilia.

LILIA: Good night, child of the world.

Scene V:

Night Raven College coliseum

ASHTON VARGAS: Morning, youngsters! Won't spend a lot of time asking you how went your weekend cause it would be a waste of time on your potential, and a waste of time on the developpement of your MUSCLES! We're still in a exam period, so you better prepare! No, Idia, Azul, no running away, we're just doing boring exams... Well, the magical ones! And even if we didn't, you shouldn't waste your youth like this! Muscles and exercices are important for your health and body, as well as a healthy diet and...

IDIA: Yeah, yeaaah, I know... Can we just get to the exams already...

AZUL: Indeed, we may be losing time on our youth like you said so well, Mr Vargas. Wouldn't that be sad if we were to spend more time than expected on this exam?

ASHTON: Oh. Yeah, that's true! Well, I'll let you chose your teams as long as you don't just gang up as dorms or age... I may be tough to harden you up, but I won't stand for these kind of things! If you're just beaten up, you won't get anything from it!

SEBEK: SIR, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY GANGING UP AS DORMS???

ASHTON: Well, if you chose to team up with Silver, you won't be teaming up with Lilia and Malleus, you see?

SEBEK: But! BUT!

SILVER: Sebek, just calm down... you are going to bring too much attention upon Diasomnia at this point... And if you're... you are worried about Malleus... you can still team up with him to protect him, I'll be with someone else, or maybe our old... maybe Lilia will be okay with me.

LILIA: Oh, I shall be going with someone else, young ones. Pray do not pay attention to me, Sebek, go and follow Malleus, if you will.

SEBEK: Lord Malleus!!!!! Wait for me!!! You cannot wander too much, I am sorry!!!

SILVER: So... what will you do, old man?

LILIA: I will be going with little Cater and Mr Clover. Who knows, maybe we will end up fighting you and Idia, fufufu?

SILVER: Wouldn't that make your team full of third-years students, though?

LILIA: Why, maybe. Maybe! But Trey nor Cater are as powerful as Idia, certainly, fufu. Wouldn't he be the perfect partner even there? Go and fly to him, who knows whom might end up with him otherwise. Wouldn't that be sad if he were to end up alone because people wanted to team up out of affection or strategy only, and not because of both? Although, I cannot fully blame them for that. We are, quite always young down here, or up there, aren't we?

SILVER: Mhh, yeah, you are right, I guess. It is not like I can team up with someone else while being sure they know how to act as a team, anyway... I will be going.

LILIA, aside: Well, well. I guess the story really is going as planned. How gratifying! I could really see myself as a god if it were to keep going. I wonder, I wonder, what is the good choice? The lie, the right investment? Is this compass showing the North, or the South? Is the North the North? The South the South, the south, south the? There is no such thing as a clock in our life, but this huge, or invisible Compass.

Scene VI:

ASHTON: So, everyone has formed their teams?

STUDENT(S) FROM A TO X, FROM H TO D: Yes, sir!

ASHTON: Okay, anyone to move forward? Or we gotta make the whole stuff harder and call people randomly? Come on, gather up some courage, you have nothin' to fear! Everything gonna be alright.

CATER DIAMOND: Heeho! I would like to begin, showing the way to the younger students and all, you know~!

ASHTON: Cater? Surprised but not disappointed! That's the way to go! So! Who's in your team?

CATER DIAMOND: Lilia Vanrouge and Trey Clover! Of course we won't be fighting first years, that would be really cruel and lame~!

ASHTON: Yeah, would be unfair although we shouldn't underestimate the youngsters. Someone to take up the challenge?

LILIA: Do not underestimate the young ones, indeed. Would this dear Silver tries to fight us? Since he knows me, dorms interwars could be interesting, don't you think so?

ASHTON: Can't tell, these kind of things really aren't for me! As long as you fight in the rules and all... What do you think, Silver?

SILVER: Well. I have only one partner, and I don't... do not know if Idia Shroud would be okay with fighting three people instead of two.

IDIA: I don't care... If I'm with Silver, we should be in synch enough to fight three people who don't really have a lot to do together...

TREY: Huh? Did something happen between you two?

CATER: You really don't pay any attention, do you, Trie~?

ASHTON: Enough chatting! Everyone, get away from the arena! Time to fight and muscles to shine!

SILVER: En garde.

LILIA: Oh, no need to be so formal, young one! You will not have time to say such things in war... but it is pleasant to hear and witness such fantasy.

IDIA: Then, take that!

TREY: Come on, Idia! Why would you use tree spells when you know that we are so good with fire?

SILVER: Thanks for the smoke, here I come.

CATER: Eeeeeh! A light shot...! Don't blind me eeeeeh!

LILIA: Let me add more fumes to hide this quite too vivid light!

CATER: Ehhhh... I can't see any of y'all, now~! That's not funny... and that's unfair!

LILIA: Nothing is unfair in battle, young one. You should not have underestimated two partners, after all. Hm? What's that? Oh, oh, an ashen ground. How interesting... Our steps do not make any sound anymore... Or sound does not come anymore.

TREY: Huh oh, I feel like Idia had predicted that.

IDIA: Gyehehe! Take thaaaaaat!

CATER: Aaaaaaah!!!! MY LEGS ARE FROZEN~!!!

LILIA: I guess you had planned on making an whole quiet floor and freezing it right after. How interesting... Let me burn down these fake grounds.

SILVER: Idia, step back, wherever you are. The fumes will get worse if the old man really burns down the whole ground... concrete aside.

LILIA: Huhu, concrete aside? Wouldn't that be fun to burn down, though? I wonder what kind of toxic fumes would get out. No one can help you in this smoke, young ones!

TREY: You're getting creepy, please, stop, already. We don't want to trigger something in Idia... or anyone else...

CATER: Come and help me instead of playing the bad guy, Lilia~!! If I'm down that means I can't use our main diversion anymore!

LILIA: Why would you think I am merely playing now? I may have been tagging along all this time, come on. Someone must have fun watching us diving! Burn, slowly burn. What will these flames reveal?

SILVER: Old man, stop. I don't know what you're on, but I beg you to stop. This isn't going to end well if you keep

IDIA: Uuuh... I'm going to suffocate... I'm going to suffocate.

SILVER: LILIA! STOP!

LILIA: Aren't these red flames pretty? Look at how much they burn, they eat away the whole world. What can we build over this burned ground, I wonder?

IDIA: I'm going to suffocate. Suff.suff.suff.SUFF.SUFF.SUFF. Stop with the flames already! Fucking stop! Stop!! Just hit me with ice if you want, but no more flames, please!

CATER: Lilia, stop, come on~! This isn't funny anymore, don't mess with Idia, we don't know what he can doooo~!!!

IDIA: I should have guessed... I should have guessed that you would never agree with me being happy with Silver! Gehehe... i was so fucking naive, of course no one would like me to take away their preciouuuuus family!

TREY: The fumes are melting away... What is going on?!

CATER: Haha, I don't like this feeling of déjà-vu...

LILIA: Ahh, finally. Well, I guess I should present you Idia... once he has overblotted.

SILVER: LILIAAAAAA!

LILIA: Oh, pray, do not try to kill me, this would be useless. Won't you save your... boyfriend, is that the word I am supposed to use now?

IDIA: Huhhh... No matter how much I try... these flames just stick to my skin... Soon this won't be my skin anymore... I'm sorry, Ortho, i'm sorry... why do you have to be caged with a fucking useless and ridicule and selfish and awful and pathetic brother? I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

CATER: What do you want us to do, Lilia?! Holy fuck, I can't even tell anymore what's going, why would you do something so careless and stupid, not to say dangerous?!

LILIA: Why, to help him, of course.

CATER: Eeeeh~ You're that kind of bitch who thinks they knows everyone's pains and act as if you could heal everything without anyone's help?

LILIA: Oh, young one, I apologize. I want your help, as well as Silver's help and Trey's help. I promise everything will be alright.

TREY: I... strongly disagree with your method. I wish I could just slap you right now but now there are too many people watching. It's because of people like you that we keep having so many troubles... you're so young and yet you act like some kind of patronizing parent... But hey, better wait for the overblot to stop first. I'll slap you later. Any idea to help Idia?

LILIA: Well, Silver will be the main actor here. He is, after all, the "Prince Charming".

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia x silver #lilia vanrouge #diasomnia

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jd-loves-everyone · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1: Lee Minho

At the age of 12, the school's yearly talent contest was probably the less exciting thing about my life, unlike what most of my peers thought. Not that it was boring but, considering I didn't have anything I practiced and/or was confident enough in to show off, I just felt slightly bad for all the dreams crushed at that damned event.

I could practically smell the sweat and tears (thankfully not literally) that would be spilled on the raised wooden stage as me and my friend, Maia, entered the auditorium.

Maia, my friend since the beginning of that year (not quite my BEST friend yet, but maybe ONE of them), with what I thought was an unmatched talent for musical theatre, was sat beside me.

She was supposed to be behind those giant puke green curtains, getting ready to take the award home. But because of a twisted ankle, she was unable to (something she cried about for at least a week, unlike what I would've done).

Even in that moment I couldn't understand why she'd want to even come see the contest, considering it would only hurt her more. But I didn't question it, and instead continued to make meaningless conversation with her about our day, as parents and children began to fill the space.

The show began shortly after the (way too long) speech from the principal about how we should all enjoy the show and have fun and all that.

I somewhat space after the disappointment that was the first girl, I feel some pity for her, being the first one to perform must not be easy. I did want to comment with Maia on it but she seemed to be in her own dimension, as I could also see the thoughts going through her head at 100 miles per hour, so I zoned out.

I remember seeing a boy with an exceptionally beautiful voice, which both me and Maia nodded along to and clapped extra hard for (even if when had been politely clapping for every participant, we gave it a LITTLE more effort that time), and I can recall little less.

There apparently were a lot more students participating that year, because the show to drag on forever and move slower than a snail, which quickly got pretty boring. I returned my attention to the brightly lit stage when seeing Maia sit a little straighter in her stair out of the corner of my eye in anticipation.

The contestant announced was "Lee Minho, the Dancing Gem."

'That's a bit much.' Was what I was planning to comment to Maia, before I saw the look of admiration in her eyes and the bittersweet up turn of her lips.

"You know him?" I asked instead. Her whole demeanor changed as she energetically turned to me.

"Do I know him? Who doesn't?! He's the most talented dancer in the district, I can guarantee you. My teacher watched him dance at a competition once and said that he had the potential to win at least a few national awards at just 13. That has to count for something." She declared passionately, waving her arms about.

I hummed a quiet (and unsure) 'we'll see', before turning towards the stage once more as the spotlights focused on the centre as the thick curtains parted slightly to let the next competitor through.

Upon first glance, there was nothing too special about his appearance. He was of average height, with somewhat broad shoulders covered by a white shirt, long legs dressed in ripped blue jeans and sneakers on his feet. That plus the usual straight black hair in the usual hairstyle really didn't make him stand out much. But god, was his face enough to make him stand out.

The best way to describe it was, pretty. He was just too pretty to be real.

He had double-lidded cat like eyes, a sharp and thin nose and a not too sharp nor too soft jawline. The most curious thing about his appearance was what I like to call a 'cat smile', a smile where the corners of the lips turned upwards while the rest remained in a straight line. It all just seemed to work. I could already imagine my mother saying something like 'Either puberty came earlier for him or he's gonna be a model when it does' and at that moment, I couldn't agree more with the imaginative comment.

'The beauty of simplicity' is as close as I could get to making justice to his features.

"You seem very focused now compared to earlier." Maia commented cheekily, making me blush. I couldn't even formulate an answer (to the clear jab at my ego), too caught up in wondering about truthfulness of it. Did he catch my attention more than the others? Obviously yes (not that they could really compare to him). Do I find him undeniably attractive? Hell yes. 'Oh god. I think I just got my first crush.'

I momentarily pushed those troublesome thoughts aside, instead focusing on the performance. And thank god I did, I soon realized I would've hated to miss even a second of the stunning act.

The way he moved was captivating in its own way. It looked natural, almost effortless, but it was also easy to tell that a lot of strict planning was involved, every move was flawless and not a centimeter out of place.

It was mesmerizing to watch, the charisma radiated from him in waves from the beginning all the way to the end of the performance.

When it ended, I became aware of the flabbergasted expression I had on my face, jaw slack and eyes wide in awe. It was too much for my young brain to fully comprehend. And maybe it was my, still recovering, brain playing tricks on me, but I swore he locked eyes with me as he bowed respectfully, throwing one of those cat-like smiles in my direction before exiting the stage. Probably didn't happen.

Well, if I THOUGHT I had a crush just by looking at him, I was sure of it after seeing him dance. That and I had just discovered my new passion.

"Dude, my teacher was right. He is SO much better in person." Maia commented lightly, turning my way. She was only met with my wide eyes and flushed cheeks as I realized...

"I have a crush on Lee Minho... And I really wanna learn how to dance." Maia blinked owlishly at my declaration, before bursting out into laughter.

"Oh, you got it bad huh. Well, maybe you can talk to him after the show." She said teasingly, holding back from letting her lips spread out into a wide cheshire grin.

"Oh please. I'd just be bothering him." My blush darkened, mentally dismissing the idea immediately. Like he'd care about what I had to say.

"Come on, why not? I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Maia said, genuinely this time, as I looked at her doubtfully.

The show was over in no time, as I pondered about whether or not I should actually go and talk to my new found crush, as Maia pestered me to do so.

The awards were given out, Minho winning first place (which came as a surprise to no one), the other awards going to people who frankly weren't that great but it wasn't like the whole selection was anything extraordinary. They were the best of the worst you could say, mediocre at best. But who am I to judge, they were just kids, but I guess my standard rose a little too high after Minho's breathtaking and heart-shatteringly captivating performance.

I eventually relented, getting up and stomping with a newfound determination to the main school hall where everyone had gathered after the show, looking around.

The hall was filled to the brim with parents and students alike, chatting lively and congratulating each other (some simply for participating).

It was hard to make out anyone's face clearly in the ocean of people, but nonetheless I tried my best to look for the star of the night, despite the nerves and anxiety sizzling in my gut.

I finally caught a glimpse of him as he was leaving the hall towards the outside of the building, probably hoping to not be bothered as he probably had already been bombarded by questions and praises all night. I stood there, in a slight moment of hesitation. 'Maybe he went outside because he wanted space, I really shouldn't bother him.'

I, mentally, shook that thought out of my head, if I wanted to talk to him it had to be now or I'd never do it.

I began walking toward the door leading outside, pulling it open with probably more strength than necessary.

As I stepped outside, I saw the boy of the night, sitting on the stone stepped right outside the door, looking up at the tall buildings surrounding the school.

Upon hearing the door slam closed, Minho turned in my direction to see who had just stepped outside, a stern but subtle furrow in his eyebrows.

"Hey can I bother you for a few minutes?" I spoke with surprising confidence, that even I didn't expect.

Due to his seemingly annoyed facial expression, I thought the answer might've been a no, but his eyes widened as he carefully took in my features, what looked like recognition flashing through his eyes. It was hard to tell what it was exactly because of his calm, maybe even cold, expression. I might've missed the changes if I wasn't paying close attention to his face (which got harder and harder as I looked at how his eyes seemed to spark like stars. Which was honestly, unfairly distracting.

"You don't bother." He finally spoke, patting the stone next to him, for me to sit.

"We'll see about that in a few minutes." I said jokingly as I sat next to him. From the corner of my eye, I could see a slight, microscopical upturn in his lips. A break in his mask, perhaps.

"I... I know you've either heard this too many times already, or if not it's gonna sound really weird but... I-I... Just wanted to say that..." I tried my best to get the words out, but it got nearly impossible as I felt his curious eye on the side of my down turned face.

"You know what? Forget it. It's not even that--"

"Important? I think it is, if this hard to get it out. Come on, don't leave me hanging now." He cut me off with a light chuckle, a gentle and encouraging smile on his lips when I turned towards his voice at the interruption.

"Well... It's kind of silly but... I just wanted to say that... I sort of, fell in love with dancing because of you. Watching you perform really, ignited something in me. And I think I really just meant to say thank you for giving me something to be passionate about." As I finished I started rubbing my arms, it seemed like that temperature had dropped a few degrees. Or maybe it was just the contrast of the chilly night air with my blushing cheeks.

At his silence, I slowly lifted my head to gage his reaction. I found shock written all over his face, the last crack on his emotionless mask making it shatter completely. I also found that the expression he wore was absolutely adorable, making me unintentionally let out a small giggle, which seemed to make him snap out of whatever trance he had been under. It also seemed to ease the tense atmosphere that had built up around us due to his previous lack of reaction and my own nerves.

He looked as if he was holding back a smile of his own, but it broke through his facade as he turned towards the buildings once again, their lights reflecting in his eyes.

"You were wrong you know? No one has ever said that to me before and it's not weird at all either. It's actually really touching. I never thought I had that effect on other people, I just thought all of them felt a sort of enjoyment at watching me. I never imagined I could move someone's emotions like that." He admitted chuckling, his eyes seeming to hold a new, beautiful shine to them.

"Well, now you know." I said awkwardly, fiddling with my sleeves. His stare was just a bit too intense for me to handle, making my blush darken (if possible).

"If you're serious about dancing, maybe you should join the dance club. I'm part of it, so I could help you out if you need it."

"Oh no, I don't know if that'd be a good idea. I would just be slowing you down." I said, furiously shaking my head in denial.

"It's no problem at all! I'm actually thinking of becoming a dance teacher when I grow up so, helping YOU helps ME." He smiled cutely.

'Why are you so damn cute?!'

"If it really isn't a problem, I guess I could try at least one class. Just to see if I like it. But I don't promise that I will!" I gave in after looking into his pleading eyes and (adorable) pouty lips. The contrast between his expression at that moment and at the beginning of our conversation was almost enough to give me whiplash. I preferred this expression much more.

We continued to talk for what seemed like an hour, though I couldn't be sure.

I did, in fact, join the school's dance club and stayed in it all the way up to high school (which wasn't covered by our school so we had to move, luckily we went to the same one, something I very anxious about).

In the dance club, I realized that it was a good idea for Minho to become a dance teacher. Under his guidance, I quickly got used to my new hobby, which soon turned into passion. He made everything seem easy and simple, and moved in a way that highlighted the precision of his moves.

I didn't think he could improve his dancing anymore, but he proved me wrong, as it had become usual, by continuing to win various awards which only got bigger and bigger.

As my love for dancing grew, so did my crush on him, as I got to see more of his 4D personality, and met his 3 adorable cats: Soon-ie, Doong-ie and Dori. I was even there when he got Dori, so I was pretty attached to the cat. (To all of them, as they were just absolutely adorable).

I've also experienced his slight... change in personality. How he became flirtier, how his compliments became bolder and how he became touchier. I tried not to think much of it, but I couldn't help but be hopeful, as those compliments weren't directed at everyone.

It only served to fuel this hope further when Hyunjin, a younger (and very handsome) dancer joined our highschool's dance club, since then we only seemed to get closer.

The moment I realised that my feelings for Minho were more than a meaningless childhood crush was actually a chain of events, not exactly one moment. Sometime after Hyunjin had joined the dance club.

It was time to go home after a long afternoon of practice, most other students had already left, bit me, Hyunjin, Minho and a few others had stayed behind to slowly pack up and tidy up the room. I was picking up my duffel bag, ready to head out, when Hyunjin called out to me. I walked over to where he, Minho and a couple other guys were gathered.

The others looked as if they were up to no good, which had me kind of curious, but I didn't dwell on it and instead turned to the one who had called me over. He also seemed odd, fiddling with his fingers nervously, his cheeks pink from something other than exertion.

"Hey. What's up?" I asked, hoping to snap the boy out of his little bubble. Seeing him like this wasn't usual, and was pretty entertaining to watch, but I didn't that snapping him out of it was the better option.

"H-Hey! Uh, well, I--" Deep breath.

"I was gonna ask you if you'd, maybe, want to go have coffee with me? Today, perhaps?" He managed after calming down, looking ready to be rejected. (Apparently. Would anyone actually reject him? No. So why was he so scared that I would?)

"O-Oh, I mean, yeah, I'd love to." I immediately felt a pang of guilt in my chest. 'What about Maia?' I thought. 'But it doesn't need to be a date, I could just try to tell him how awesome she is.' I thought, slightly bitterly, I did want a date with Hyunjin, but as my (best)friend, Maia was a priority. (Just spending time with him wouldn't hurt either).

As I accepted, Hyunjin got a small, shy smile on his face, his blush getting even darker. The boys around him laughed, patting his back. I caught a glimpse of Minho's face, his eyes were wide, jaw slack in disbelief. I brushed it off.

"Should we get going? It might get late--" I started, before being interrupted by Minho.

"Actually, she can't go today. She needs to... Help me with my cat! Yeah! I need some help with Dori!" It was clear he had made it up, but considering it was extremely out of character for him, it must have been important so I relented.

"Sorry Hyunjin, I'm gonna go with Minho. Raincheck to another day?"

Hyunjin nodded, somewhat sadly, as Minho basically dragged me out of the room by the arm as I tried to wave everyone goodbye.

Once we were out of the building, we settled into a comfortable walking pace towards the bus stop, as I texted Chan saying that he didn't need to pick me up today.

The bus ride was mostly silent (which was unusual), save for the small talk each of us tried to make. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but not exactly wanted either.

As we were walking down his street, nearing his house, I decided to finally ask the question that had been bugging me.

"Do you REALLY need my help with Dori? I mean, I know she likes me better, but it's still manageable right?" I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked as if he'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"She doesn't like you THAT much. But I'll admit, that wasn't my actual intention." He said sheepishly. I was finally able to put 2 and 2 together, even if it was highly unlikely.

"Wait. Were you jealous?" The question made him hesitate as he was unlocking the door to his house.

"Uh, I... You know. Uh, you know what, I don't even REALLY know why I did it anyway." He sounded sincere enough, so despite my curiosity, I dropped the subject as he seemed genuinely torn.

"Welcome. My parents won't be home until later, so we're alone for now." He walked in, taking off his jacket as I put down my duffle bag, already heading towards the living, where the cats would most likely be.

As I approached the room, I could already hear them scratching at the door and meowing loudly. I opened the door, petting Soon-ie and Doong-ie as I passed them, heading towards the window on the far end of the room, Dori's favorite spot because of the heat the sun provided when it hit.

And there she was, laying in the last remains of the already setting sun. And with no signs of injury or anything to be worried about whatsoever.

"So, what exactly was wrong with her?" I turned to Minho as he entered with a teasing look, already anticipating his answer.

"I told you already, didn't I? I lied. Not sure why though." He walked to where Dori was sat, reaching to stroke her head, making her purr in delight, as the others also got closer to their owner at the chance to get petted. In response, Minho sat down next to the newest kitten, as Soon-ie and Doong-ie tried to climb onto his lap at the same time. This made him giggle, trying his best to satisfy every one of his "children".

It was like the world froze or slowed down in that moment.

The best was to describe the way Minho looked at that moment would be angelic, but even that wouldn't cover it.

His dark hair shone in the sun, looking too soft to resist, his dark eyes gazed fondly at his pets as a beautiful, peaceful and joyful smile broke out across his face. The sun framed the scene perfectly, making look picturesque, and suddenly I wished I had my camera with me at that moment to truly capture it in all its beauty.

I realized that the difference between our first meeting and then, was humongous, in the best way possible. He had become so open to me and so... Lively and relaxed. I loved the change.

That was the moment when I realized that my crush for Lee Minho was not going away anytime soon and that it wasn't just a silly childhood crush that would disappear in 2 weeks to a month. It was there, in my heart, to stay.

"You gonna just stand there looking weird? I know you love looking at my face but..." He directed that heavenly smile toward me as he spoke.

On that day, not only did I realize the extent of my feelings for Minho, he also realized the nature of his feelings for me.

#Lee Minho #skz #stray kids x reader #skz minho #lee know #minho #to all the boys i've loved before #stray kids #skz x reader #skz x you #to all the boys #fanfic #kpop #kpop x reader

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ca1e70-deactivated · 5 years ago

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a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years.

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid.

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best.

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever.

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment)

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair.

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going.

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

#theres probably so many more i mean #ive been on parp for at least 5-6 years now #ive been on cherubplay probably the same amount of time #and my memory is totally shot to fuck but these are just what i know ive done in the last YEAR #or thought were wild enough to remember #i put it under a read more bc frankly its really fucking long #and i dont want this to represent me entirely #these are also heavily situational based and not like. emotion or reaction based much?#some of them are #i guess i could rename this to like. things ive done on parp #but theyre technically still headcanons a lot of them can coincide with whatever #so theyre not very specific situations #anyways #this took me an hour

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fluffyseapancakes · 6 years ago

Text

A Heart of Vibranium

So this was a prompt and I was going to write a short fic to it, but then everything went black and the next thing I knew, I had written over 2,000 words. I’m putting it into a separate post for personal formatting preferences so here’s the monster of a fic that poured out of my brain.

ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶦⁿᶦˢʰ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵒᶠʳᵉᵃᵈ. ᴵ ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᶦᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ, ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᴵ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ.

Prompt: I wish you would write a fic where : the reader is around the same age as Peter and has a father/daughter kind of relationship with Tony Stark. One day, the reader calls Tony ‘dad’ and gets all embarrassed so Tony tickles her to get her to say it again

____________________________________________________

You didn’t want to brag, but your life was pretty freaking awesome. Sure your parents died in a mysterious accident and you basically had to teach yourself how to control the powers you somehow were born with, and a giant dickbag tried to kidnap you to use you as a weapon, but the moment when Iron Man foiled his plans and took you under his wing, it changed your life forever.

It was a big surprise when you found out that Peter Parker was the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, especially when he went to the same school as you and was in some of your classes. Meeting all the Avengers was absolutely nerve-wrecking, but thankfully everyone accepted you and treated you like their little sister. You and Peter quickly teamed up and started frequent prank wars in the tower which almost always ended with you two on the ground getting tickled to pieces by the disgruntled Avengers. Tony usually just stood aside and watched the situation unfold with an amused smile on his face.

You respected the hell out of Tony, and if you were honest, you were a little intimidated by him. It amazed you how Tony had gone through so much horrific trauma in his life and somehow he was incredibly successful and was the superhero that everyone depended on. You strived to be like Tony and you trained endlessly to learn how to use your powers and you kept your grades up in school. You barely had time to be a kid and Peter often had to drag you out of the training arena to go get ice cream and play video games. Every time Tony praised you on your progress or patted you lovingly on the head, your heart soared and it motivated you to work harder. The Avengers were concerned that you were working too hard for your age and might burn out, but Tony had faith in you and praised you as often as he could. As the mentorship went on, your bond with him grew and you learned to trust him with your life.

This week was going to drive you insane. For some reason, all your teachers scheduled their most difficult exams back to back with each other, you had three major projects due, and you had to fit in eight hours of training everyday. All your notes were sprawled on Peter’s bedroom floor and you tried to focus on reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream but you could barely understand Shakespearean English, Peter was humming happily as he worked on some chemistry problems.

“I give up,” you groaned, throwing the book down in defeat.

“Thee wanteth to passeth the exams thee not?” He swiveled around in his chair and looked at you with a grin.

“Huh?”

“You want to pass the exams don’t you?”

“Yeah, but not really for my sake. To be completely honest, I don’t care about school, I’m doing this for Tony,” you sighed, glaring at all your notes in distaste. Peter nodded with understanding and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I get it, I do a lot of things for Mr. Stark that I don’t actually want to do, but I don’t want to disappoint him.”

A silence fell upon the room as you tried to focus on history homework instead but your brain refused to retain anything from stress, you punched the textbook and your lips started to tremble from frustration. Peter had a concerned look on his face and he smiled softly. “Want to hear something stupid I did the other day?”

“What?” You whispered, your voice trembled ever so slightly and Peter winced at how vulnerable you were.

“I accidentally called Mr. Stark ‘dad,’” he laughed embarrassingly. You chuckled softly and shook your head.

“What did Tony say?”

“He said he saw me as his son, so he didn’t mind that I called him that.”

“Well that’s good,” you smiled, “I would absolutely die if I called him my dad.” Your phone pinged and you saw that Happy had texted he was ready to pick you up. You quickly gathered up your assignments and shoved them haphazardly into your backpack. Waving goodbye to Peter, you walked out the door and into the waiting car.

During the whole ride home, all you could think about was having Tony Stark as a father. Your parents died when you were very young, so you didn’t know what it was like to have one. Tony was probably the closest to a father figure you had, next to Steve and Clint. He taught you how to control and use your powers, gave you good life advice when you hit a roadblock, got you over-the-top birthday and Christmas presents, and gave you the support and stability that you desperately needed. You knew, deep down inside, you wanted Tony to be your father and the Avengers to be your family, but you were scared that they were going to reject you.

I’m a dirty orphan that no one wanted, you bitterly thought, staring out the car window and watching the Stark Towers emerge from a distance, Tony will kick me out if he ever knew how I felt.

As Happy pulled the car up to the entrance, you got out and headed to the main living room where everyone usually hung out on Saturday afternoons. You pressed the respective elevator button and shot up the tall building. Quickly the elevator stopped at your floor and as soon as the doors opened, you heard the laughter of your friends flood throughout the room. You smiled and followed the laughter, entering into the living room you saw that they were all surrounding the table playing Cards Against Humanity. Tony turned his head and smiled brightly when he saw you come in.

“Hey Y/N! Perfect timing, we’re about to start a new game once I crush everyone on this round.”

You smiled and threw your heavy backpack onto the couch, “Hey dad, I’m just gonna grab a snack then I’ll play,” you strolled to the kitchen to hunt for some chips. You realized that everyone had gone dead silent and you turned around to see surprised expressions on their faces.

“What? Do I really look that tired?” You joked.

“No Y/N…you called Tony your dad,” Steve had a soft smile on his face but he was watching you carefully to see your reaction. You felt like your heart had stopped beating and your tongue turned into a dry sponge.

“Oh that,” you chuckled forcefully, “that was a dare Peter made me do…to see your reaction…”

Tony slowly got up from his chair and walked over to you, you felt tears of shame threatening to fall down your cheeks as he crouched down and looked at you in the eyes.

“You don’t have to be ashamed Y/N,” he said softly, he reached out his hand and tucked a couple strands of hair behind your ear, “I don’t blame you, you lost your parents and you’ve never had someone look out for you until now.”

You hung your head and shrugged, “I’m sorry I called you that and I completely understand if you want me to leave,” you whispered.

“Why would I do that?” Tony sounded genuinely surprised and suddenly pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you very much Y/N, mentoring you and Peter are the greatest things that’s happened to me and I see you two as my own kids.”

You wrapped your arms around Tony’s neck and closed your eyes, breathing in his usual scent of aftershave that’s always comforted you. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried silently into his shoulder, he rubbed your back and patiently waited for the tears to slowly stop. You sniffled and was embarrassed that you had soaked his shirt, but you continued to hold him tightly.

“Since we’re technically your family, you can call me dad if you want,” he whispered in your ear, you smiled and finally unwrapped your arms and parted from the embrace. Tony looked at you with adoration and wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

“Are you done moping around now?” He playfully joked, poking at your belly. You jumped at the touch and giggled, shaking your head.

“Only if you’re done being sappy,” you sassed back, Tony’s eyebrow went up and suddenly he had you pinned down on the ground. He lightly straddled your legs so you couldn’t escape and dug into your belly. You squealed and tried to squirm away, but he had you securely pinned down. He went from torturing your belly to gently squeezing your sides, high pitched laughter poured out of your mouth and you could hear the Avengers laughing along with you. A couple snorts were mixed into your laughter and eventually you started screaming as Tony started to squeeze your ribs, suddenly he stopped and kept his fingers firmly placed on your bottom rib.

“Y/N you’re one smart girl, if you count each rib in Latin I might give you a break,” he winked at your breathless face, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes twinkled with happiness. Everyone laughed at the ridiculous game and started placing bets on who would win. Your brain was still foggy from crying and laughing, but you vaguely remembered Peter quizzing you for the Latin test. You’ve never seen this playful side of Tony before so you decided to play his rather unfair game, you nodded at him in agreement and slowly he wiggled his fingers on your first rib. You threw your head back in a fit of giggles and searched your brain for the answer.

“ūnus,” you barely managed to giggle out. Tony grinned and moved on to the next rib, for some reason that spot was particularly sensitive and you let out a loud squeal.

“D-Duo,” you stammered, and for what seemed like hours, you counted each of your ribs in Latin and Tony moved to the next one and tickled it with more intensity than the ones before. Your brain was turning into mush and all you could focus on was laughing and trying to squirm away.

“Vīgintī ūnus.”

“Vīgintī duo.”

“Vīgintī trēs.”

Tony finally attacked your last rib, everyone was cheering you on and you were utterly exhausted. You wracked your brain for the Latin number for 24, but all you got was a blank. Come on Y/N, it’s literally the number 20 with 4, it’s not that hard. You shrieked as Tony teasingly tweaked at the rib and his other hand lightly dug into your belly.

“Well Y/N? It’s now or never,” he laughed, he sounded joyful and almost childlike, which was unheard of when it was about Tony Stark. Sure he joked around and played games often, but he never let out a genuinely happy laugh even when he was a child. All the Avengers smiled at this rare sight and wished that laugh would never go away.

“Vīgintī…,” you said unsurely, screaming as his fingers found their way to your bellybutton and started to very lightly trace around it.

“Vīgintī what?” He teased, suddenly dipping a finger inside your bellybutton and wiggling it around, you bucked hard as an electric-like shock traveled into your spine and down to the tips of your toes. Hysterical laughter erupted from your mouth and you felt like you were going to burst. You were ready to surrender and admit defeat when suddenly the answer fought its way through the jumbled mess in your brain and appeared as clear as day.

“Quattuor!” You screamed, Tony pulled back from his torture and you gasped for breath, you could hear the Avengers clapping for you as you tried to recover from the tickling.

“I knew you could do it,” Tony smiled, slowly helping you sit up. He ruffled your hair and gently pinched one of your bright red cheeks. You swatted his hand away and grinned.

“You sound like a dad already,” you teased, completely entranced by the liveliness in his eyes, usually they were filled with fatigue and sternness, but the Tony Stark you were seeing now was completely different from your mentor Mr. Stark. You loved this side of him and you wished that he could stay this happy forever.

“I’m so lucky to have you as my daughter,” he wrapped you up into another hug and you snuggled into his chest, your ear rested on the arc reactor and you listened to its gentle hum.

No matter what people say, your dad certainly does have a heart. A heart of vibranium.

#avengers #reader x tony stark #tony stark #peter parker #tickle fic #tony stark dad #ticklish!reader #prompt #reader insert #iron man #spiderman #dad!tony #dad!tony x daughter!reader #tony stark fanfiction

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ofindcmitability · 5 years ago

Note

the umbrella academy au ( landon )

+ @frcmashes @geminislegacy @chosenlonely @enflamedxtouch

on the 12th hour of the first day of october 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. this was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

will always thought of himself a proper freak. actually to be more proper, a second-generation freak. his father being the first and one of those children born on that date.

funny thing about jack. he started up the evil league of villains. not their actual name, no, but might as well been. there was klaus mikaelson, kai parker, katherine pierce, (so many freakin k’s) and of course, malivore. all of them provoked some kind of terror, they were all mass murderers and all that. but malivore was by far the most mysterious, no one even knew his true name. funny enough, they all had kids too. sort of, at least. there was klaus mikaelson’s daughter, ironically named HOPE. kai had his two nieces, twins ran in his mother’s family and he and his sister jo had melted in childbirth. legit, MELTED. while she had an affinity for ice, her twins were somehow born with her brother’s flames. they melted her. katherine pierce had a daughter named nadia but will had only met her a handful of times, she was a bit older then the rest of them, and onto much different things then listening to her mother (her mother, will would note, who looked younger then her). then there was landon kirby. the newest edition to their supervillain parent club.

hope knew him a bit, she told him as much. said landon could be TRUSTED. the thing was though, will struggled with the whole trust thing. he trusted the twins and hope with his life, and with the plan to FLEE. a plan they had been building towards since 3 years ago when they realized they couldn’t escape their parents otherwise. if landon allowed it to slip that they’d been planning a runaway there would be hell to pay. hell for will, that is.

klaus mikaelson had a kill count larger then some towns populations, but he would never allow harm to come towards his daughter. kai would come after the twins with an axe if the mood striked, but that was because he was a psychopath, it was without actual malicious. then there was jack, who had malicious in every mood he made. they didn’t know though, not the extent of it. will couldn’t allow them to know, to try and help. he couldn’t let them risk themselves for him. he’d rather run away and never turn back.

what he didn’t need though was some loser ruining this plan.

“he needs us!” hope insisted to him, and well fuck him when hope mikaelson set her mind to something how was he supposed to say FUCK NO and expect not to be punched for such efforts?

“i don’t even know the kid, and you don’t know either.” will pointed out (and he was fairly sure this was the third time they had this discussion). “how could we trust him? he’s an unknown entity.”

“to start with on the many reasons you need to hear me out, he’s not a kid. he’s my age.” a single year older, woopty doo (though, somehow, hope having that extra year and experience made her their impromptu leader, among other reasons.) “he’s been through hell and i... i actually knew him a long time ago.” he’s been through hell and she didn’t rescue him. those were the words will read in what she spoke. hope mikaelson and her damn hero complex. “we could trust him, he could-”

“okay.” there was no getting in her way, will could see it. it was a uphill battle and he would LOOSE.

plus there was something nice about seeing that satisfied smile upon the shorter girl’s face.

“so you must be will then?” ugh, he hated socializing. though will reminded himself, he’d be practically living with landon if all went according to plan. better start getting used to him.

“yeah, thats me.” he nodded, and then landon offered his hand was that something people did? ( yeah, he didn’t have much experience with people beyond the trio of girls and super villains. )

“you’re supposed to shake it.” landon prompted, though he seemed almost unsure of saying so himself. will stared for a moment, hesitant. then, he reached, and he gave it a light shake.

landon chuckled. it was a bit awkward, yes, but it was... wasn’t horrible.

then, he heard lizzie saltzman let out a proper GROAN. “why does your hair have to look so much like a sponge?” she asked of landon, only for hope to slip a hand into hers and instantly the girl soothed. she was nervous, will could tell. he knew lizzie saltzman well. she’d been his first and only crush, his first kiss. and maybe there would have been something if she wasn’t so horribly in love with hope mikaelson. hope mikaelson who returned her affections and became an absolute mess when lizzie turned on the charm.

they were cute, and will was happy for the girls. though he and josie did sometimes make barfing sounds when they were being lovey dovey to the GUG degree.

lizzie would flip them off.

fuck, will didn’t know what he’d do without them. he didn’t know who he’d be with only jack’s influence, without the girl’s he called his family. and now there was someone else part of that family, someone else to protect. and protect them, he would.

“so tomorrow they’ll be leaving to rob a bank.” hope began. “i overheard my dad talking about it. that is when we move.” they had to be gone when it happened, whether it was love or possessiveness, the kids were all too aware their parents wouldn’t be happy with them leaving.

when hope said the words ROB A BANK. it didn’t mean an actual robbery, but rather an outing. their parents were hush hush on the horrible deeds they commited, so lizzie in her greatness decided ‘yeah, they’re probably robbing banks. ski masks and everything.’

so yeah, robbing banks.

“so, i uh, i know i’m the new guy,” a groan from lizzie, a chuckle from hope and an eye roll from will himself.

“we really are prepared for this,” josie piqued in. “and if you don’t think you could handle this and need to stay behind that’s fine but--”

“wait wait,” landon interrupted, a chake of his head. “not what i was getting at, i was moreso gonna say we should ya know... prepare.” prepare, and it was said in such a way that landon had been through this before. huh. “maybe we could make back backs and hide them? hope filled me in, that we have money-- but money won’t last forever and we should prepare. food, blankets, lighters, everything that we might need and could carry with us. i mean... we will be on the streets, roughing it. and it’s better then being here, but still. we need to be prepared for it.”

“oh my god, you were a trashcan baby.” classic lizzie saltzman, truly. still she was probably right. landon spoke like he had all too much experience in the narrative of it.

“guess you didn’t tell him everything,” will had figured hope would fill him on it.

hope gave a shrug. “i was meaning to, it just didn’t happen yet.”

“okay, so what am i missing?” landon asked, bewildered.

once more, josie spoke up. “her name is penelope. she’s second-generation just like us... and she’s going to bring us to our dad.”

alaric saltzman, their savior. a man who wanted to be in his daughter’s lives til their uncle stole them away on a whim. according to josie, he contacted the twins three months ago. that was when the plan fell into play. alaric had resources, and since his daughters were two fo them, he did all the research he could. apparently he was in touch with something called THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY, and they would protect them. all of them. they just needed to get the destination pick up point first.

so it went remarkably well. they did actually pack, because the journey to the umbrella academy would be a few days and they were on foot. he knew the girls well but landon... landon was a constant surprise. it was weird, having pleasant surprises by someone. landon was all sorts of weird but... will found himself enjoying it.

it was their third night, and tomorrow they would arrive. at least, according to josie’s calculations. for the past two nights they had managed to boy two motel rooms, and yes he kept sharing with landon. landon who snuck, of all things, candy into his bag. who kept asking will if he wanted any. and will, who always said, sure.

then josie checked how much they have left and apparently it worried her. she wanted to be safer, spend less. thus, one room this time. the three girls squeezed into one bed together (poor josie, will thought, or maybe poor lizzie and hope. unable to get it on with josie right there). but it left he and landon to share a bed. funny thing was though, will hadn’t shared a bed with someone ever before. and when a tired landon rolled onto him he hadn’t had the foggiest what to do. so, he fell asleep, and hoped that upon waking up the situation would resolve itself.

it did not.

they were snuggling. and it was... nice. actually. really nice. huh.

“disgusting.” that was a voice whispered in his ear, one that sounded remarkably like jack. except it wasn't in his head, oh no- a knee was his chest, forcing him down--- making him stay. then jack was reaching over and no no no--

the thing was, about jack. he was remarkable in many ways. knew ways to kill so many people, knew how to use so many weapons, but when it came to it his power was basically his favorite thing.

death touch.

his hand clasped landon’s throat, and landon’s eyes flew open. and will--- he’d known landon less than a week. it was stupid, they were barely even friends. yet, as the life drained from his eyes, will felt like the world was ending. no more stupid jokes, no more awkward pauses or candy. no more offered candy. no more landon.

will SHRIEKED.

he heard the sound of the sound of one of the girls falling off the bed, and then jack was jumping back because there was FIRE and will--- fuck, was he sobbing? he’d never done that before. not even on jack’s worst days. he’d never shaken like this before, unable to stop, unable to breathe---

“will.” hope said, taking his arm and pulling--- but no, he couldn’t leave landon’s body-- no-- “will!” hope said again. his eyes connected with hers and the sight of her felt so damn blurry. the world was fucking spinning. “give him a moment.”

a moment? a moment? for--- a large GASP, came from the boy before him. landon sucked in air as if he hadn’t breathed before, well, this WAS his first breath after dying.

“oh my god.” landon’s blue eyes connected to his, and despite the fire, despite the death, despite it all, he smiled.

“hey.”

“hi.”

epilogue i’m too lazy to write: wll uses his own killer touch to knock jack out, (hope fought him for a bit btw, she has preflex). they make it to alaric and the umbrella academy. it’s not happily ever after, but it is better then it was before. and will has landon now. he’s happy.

#answered #drabble #major character death tw #child abuse mention tw #child abuse tw #c: landon kirby #c: hope mikaelson #c: lizzie saltzman #c: josie saltzman #c: jack #wrckhvck

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letstalksymphogear · 5 years ago

Text

Symphogear, EP.7 (Cont.)

“i have not now, nor ever, liked this creepy ass church elevator.”

“kanade please get out of my head, just because im hungry doesnt mean you have to tell me every time i am”

Hibiki finishes getting a full body X-ray. She’s fine.

“that anime protagonist immunity is really kicking in well!”

“by the way, your wife is here! and she’s looking mighty miffed., as opposed to me, mighty milfed.”

“you dont strike me as a mother figure but ill play along for now”

“i just hope miku’s okay...”

“oh, she’ll be fine! see, i’ve seen these kinds of plots before. big secret revealed, another lover is shown, the victim watches as they’re thoroughly cheated on, and they get to lik-”

“please stop breathing”

Genjuro’s wasting away again in Margaritaville. Looking for some daughter to adopt. SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT THERE’S A, WOOOOMAAAAAN TO BLAAAAAAAAAAME, BUT HE KNOWS

XYLOPHONE RIFF

THAT’S IT’S ALL HIS FAULT

XYLOPHONE RIFF

“i hate it when he gets like this. jimmy buffets not a good look for him.”

“for once you and i agree. seeing the commander sulk like this like a middle aged perma-tourist is genuinely miserable”

“hey homies! im back and i brought some bitches! oh, jesus, why does this place smell like mistakes in miami?”

“its me. im sorry. every time i feel like i failed as a dad, my anti-dad energies manifest. imagine every midlife crisis rolled up into a single ball, smacked into the face for eternity. thats the depth of my pain for failing this girl.”

In a moment of positivity, the friendship between Tsubasa and Hibiki is cemented.

> Tsubasa has joined the party.

“FRIENDSHIP!”

“fweindship.”

“uuuuhhhhh... dadship? yeah thats close enough.”

“WE’RE ALL GOOD FRIENDS!”

“ya tiddies are ringing again, better go get it”

Ryoko also points out that Hibiki’s relic is fusing with herself at an alarming rate. This is important to keep in mind.

Meanwhile, at night.

Miku is posing in the motherly “you done fucked up, where have you been young lady” position. A cold scolding is coming.

“.........................hey miku......”

“you can come in. are you worried im gonna bite? you suplexed a car. that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”

“miku, i.... i wanted to tell you.... but.... the plot wouldn’t let me, miku....”

“should’ve told the plot to fuck off anyway. now you’re gonna live with that. you’re sleeping... on the bottom bunk.”

“b.... b..... b...... b.... b...... bottom bunk...?”

They slept separately that night. God, this is so stupid. All of this is so goddamned stupid. “I’m so mad at you even though you saved my life.” This is just so. AUGH. THIS IS DUMB. KANEKO WRITE BETTER ANGST THAT MAKES SENSE THAT ISN’T THIS.

Meanwhile, far away from this garbage...

Chris, having been evicted from Fine’s McMansion, wanders the streets of mumblemumble aimlessly. Don’t be fooled by her new fancy dress. Basically, she’s a combat-competent hobo.

“no food. no home. no victories. this sucks. whyd you do it, fine? we coulda been great together. but no. ya fired me. now i look like im prancing the red light district with a highly advanced superweapon around my neck.”

“no... hibiki’s to blame. ever since that genderbent little mac showed up to fight me, it’s been all downhill. fine thought me a laughstock because i couldnt take out her oversized boxing gloves, and now she beat me while i had nehushtan. god... i wish i never met that damn hamster faced chubby cheeked nerd.”

“wait, whats that crying”

Chris spies two kids talking to each other, one of them crying. Chris immediately makes an assumption, believing the big bro is bullying his sis.

“hey! stop nicking her lunch money, twerp”

Chris currently is a firm believer of corporeal punishment.

But the sister deflects the blow. Chris can’t even defeat children right now. Truly, this is a record low for her. You know you blew it when even kids are schooling you on basic morality. She then tells the little girl to stop crying, ironically mirroring her brother.

The infamous double T-Pose maneuver. Chris, you might as well get a shovel and start digging your own grave.

“i keep doing bad things badly, and now im doing good things badly... when fine said i was bad... did she just mean im not talented?”

Chris, finally, does a good thing and helps these kids find their parents.

“yeah. hibiki saved a kid when she got her gear. guess what? bam! im saving two! that’s fifty percent more kid per kid saved. take that, weirdo.”

The kids call her out on Chris singing unconsciously, and Chris gets flustered over it. Dawwwwww.

Chris manages to get them to safety to their Dad...

...while brutally lying about it, making Chris look like a predator. There’s a very crushing irony at play here, given who Chris used to serve.

“ugggggggggggggggghhhhhh hes not even gonna payyyyy meeeeeee why the fuck did i dooooo thiiiiiiissssss”

“hey, you know. you kids have a really nice relationship with one another. care to give me tips on how to be an empathetic human being capable of making friends?”

“maybe we’re born with it”

“maybe its maybeline”

“maybeline...”

Meanwhile...

A cold wind blows through Lydian Apartment 69-L. (I don’t actually know if that’s their room number, I just made it up.)

“jesus take the wheel, because i’m jumping out the passenger seat to save this current wreck of a relationship”

“miku please i saved your life, doesnt that count for anything”

“you already killed me the moment you lied. also im taking the bottom bunk so i dont have to see your face coming down the ladder.”

“miku you cant hide in this depression den forever. i know i hurt you and im sorry for it, but please understand i literally couldnt do it. you saw there were punches and violence and stuff... i didnt want you tied to that...”

“what was that? i cant hear your apologies over my incredibly loud snoring. SNOOOOOOORE. SNOOOOOOOORE. SNOOO- fuck, i just swallowed my spit, fuck”

“i hope this cocoon of displeasure you’ve made for yourself lets you erupt into a butterfly of acceptance so i can fly with you again.”

“......thats not fair. you cant say those beautiful metaphors and get away with it. let me be mad... sniff... let me be mad...”

Sadness wafts in the den of lies Hibiki has been forced into.

No music plays. There is only heartbreak, and woe.

In the midst of this pain...

Ryoko loredumps about how the Symphogears work and are immune to the noise on her blog, ‘hornyonmainforscience.org’, her hybrid science journal slash kink zone. It’s mostly a recap with some pretty good soft techno beats in it.

“i made a custom brew of red bull, five hour energy drink, coffee, and cream. i call it gamer girl piss.”

“damn. that’s some good piss.”

She muses about how Hibiki has managed to break the limitations of her Symphogear, making her a totally unique specimen. Wait, where have we heard this before...?

Hey... Ryoko... let’s just... cool it a bit with the Hibiki pictures... come on...

Ryoko touches upon the Custodians and the Curse of Babel. We ain’t touching that shit until later, because that’s another shitfuck box of crazy just ready to jump us in a dark alleyway to rob us of our wits.

Back to Lydian:

“miku whats the answer to the first three multiple choice questions”

“B. A. D.”

“oh, thanks. huh, BAD.”

“yeah. you are.”

“mmm. taste likes dissapointment. just like my life.”

“hey table for two haha get it cause there’s two chairs and miku for the love of god, please, forgive me”

“ive surgically removed my eyes and drew eyelashes over them with sharpie so i dont have to see your bird bangs.”

“thats very rude to both me and my hair. also, wig.”

Even Hibiki’s meal is judging her. Mainly for not eating it. Fucking look at this. God, that looks amazing. Fuck, why did I write this while I was hungry.

“miku you cant do this forever. i might die and youll end up crying on my tombstone going ‘oh god, why, oh god’, and really, i cant live with myself if that happens. mainly because id already be dead by then”

The Anime Janai crew show up to break some icebergs with a goddamn sledgehammer. As the self-aware Gods of this realm, they got very tired of this poor display of angst, and have decided to directly intervene.

Nevermind. They came for her kneecaps, and they most certainly got them.

PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU. END THIS GARBAGE PLOT THREAD.

“look. imma lay down the facts. yall are gay. yall are in love. yall are angry for the wrong reasons. its nobody’s fault here but the writer. so please kiss and make up. pretty please.”

“kaneko... you fool... we all know what the original sin is. its your hack writing making this stupidity in the first place. let the pencil go, asshole!”

They bring up the fact that Hibiki isn’t doing her work and wonder if she has a job on the side, which isn’t allowed by the school. Miku gets annoyed and bails, with Hibiki running after her. Unfortunately, Miku runs faster...

“oh god miku not the rooftop whatever you’re thinking just dont do it! please!”

“no. i came here to angst, since this is the Maximum Angst Zone.”

“i..... okay! okay, that’s fair! rooftops are the perfect place to look sad while getting proper air ventilation, thats fine”

It really would have been better played if it was played off that she felt hurt not because of the lie, but because she felt like she could have helped her better having known the truth, and it being a self-loathing sort of scenario for not being there better for her and not fully understanding the risk at play.

But no, instead, we get this.

youtube

Absolutely obliterated. A heart ripped, shredded, and sent to the Shadow Realm.

The episode ends on that note, but has a post credit scene.

Naked. On an old timey telephone. On a computer. Wearing stockings and long gloves.

The main antagonist of the series, everybody.

She’s talking the best English possible to some random-ass American when suddenly bursting through the scene is none other than:

“I WANT WORKERS COMPENSATION YOU BITCH, BEFORE I UNIONIZE YOUR NAKED ASS”

“AND I WANT A GOOD REFERNECE FOR MY FUTURE EMPLOYER, AND ALSO A SEVERANCE PACKAGE SINCE I’M FUCKING HOMELESS”

“i paint my eyelashes with mascara made from the tar of freshly carbonated corpses manufactured through noise, what on gods green earth compels you to think id give a rats ass about you?”

“so you never cared, huh! you’re just a nasty naked hedonist trying to- trying to- what the fuck are you even trying to do?!”

“i want to live the dream every spicy little fossil like me yearns for.”

“I WANNA FUCK GOD!”

“how- what? what? how do you even- what? are you- do you want to be the pope? is that it? does the pope get to fuck god? are you- is this a larping thing? you’ve really been into larping lately! i don’t like this!”

“youve never read the old testament, have you. ass out, pussy bare, hips up and barefoot. that’s how god’s always liked it.”

“now get lost, punk. you tipped off my hand to genjuro and now you being here is going to ruin everything. if you still feel any semblance of devotion, eat one of your own bullets and call it a day.”

“it’s 2012 bitch, if the mayans dont get you, I WILL”

“what god gives, He takes away, and so do i. i built you from the ground up. your relic, which was good for jack shit on you. the nehushtan, which you failed to do anything with except zap a couple hundred people. stop wars? you’re a walking war, waged by me, for me. and your cartridge has just run out of bullets.”

“uh oh! hand’s acting up again! better bail before i send you back to smacktown where all the bitter little shittalkers like you strut around spending their lives being useless as hell.”

“ah fuck, im not dealing with no manos: the hands of fate bullshit again”

“and guess what else i got on motherfucker”

“i see the union efforts have officially been busted. understandable, have a nice day ma’am”

“LEAVE.”

“I’M GOING, I’M GOING”

#symphogear #symphogear season 1 #anime #recap #comedy

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babyboyoonie · 6 years ago

Note

Do you do requests..? :o Can I ask for a teacher/student forbidden relationship? But like.. Yoon is the student?

Sure anon ❤️❤️❤️

Disclaimer: since I have to remind people so often I’ll leave this here. This is fiction. Don’t take it seriously. Appreciate our works and our way to love the boys and next pls. 🤧

Here we go!

Hoseok tastes butterscotch on the tip of his lips; imagines the aroma of cherries all over his taste buds as he yearns for a forbidden fruit too far away for even a glimpse of their pretty face.

“You do realize it’s like, your last night as a free man right?”

Suho’s dramatic voice cuts Hoseok’s delusions of bleached blond locks on his pillow and petite hips between his hands, for him to grab, to manhandle however he desires. Hoseok’s so fucking pathetic, God.

He huffs out a breath, chuckles low in his throat and kicking his friend in the shin.

“I just love how you make it seem like the dude’s getting married. We all know Seok—he’s gonna party even though he has morning classes to teach.”

Junhong knows him way too well for Hoseok’s liking. Chances are that he also caught the mooning looks Hoseok’s been throwing the petite figure that’s been sitting at the corner of the club. Little flower seemingly protected by a bunch of men that throw dirty looks to anyone getting too close for their liking.

Ugh. He chugs down his drink.

“I would not.” Hoseok totally would, and they know it, if the blank looks they were throwing his way were anything to go by.

He shrugs, a wide smile stretching his lips as he rips his eyes away from the person he can’t even guess the gender from over here. Can’t even see their face for God’s sake. But hey, does it really matter?

His burst of energy is contagious, it seems, because there are a bouquet of amused grins following his. Content, pure enjoyment, if only a tad bit colored by that sweet craziness that comes with tip-toeing on the edges of being drunk.

“To your promotion man,” Junhong cheers, sliding an arm around his shoulders and raising his questionable drink with the others. Hoseok knows better than to ask questions.

“Cheers!” It’s a cacophony of his friends screeching. Hyungwoon sliding into a suspicious high note, Suho staggering on his feet before he jumps on the table, and Hyerin cackling her ass off—Hoseok seriously considers asking the bartender to cut her off. But—but no. They’re here to look over her in case something happens. That’s what best friends do.

Hoseok knocks back the remains of his drink, not quite drunk, but not totally sober either. He stares at his empty glass, licks his lips, the slight burn of alcohol sending another bout of excitement into his blood. And he’s gonna stop there, because everybody and their grandmas knew Jung Hoseok couldn’t handle his liquor to save his life. Lest he do something as stupid as try to talk to that sweet flower when he’s oh so clearly off limits.

Ugh, again.

A light haze settles over him, and his already low inhibitions break slowly the more time passes; the more he laughs, the more his friends speak nonsense and wild around like they were teenagers again. And so what if the late twenties meant getting more serious and have a different outlook on life? Hoseok didn’t think so. Was persuaded there was no such things as suddenly shifting around just because one neared more their thirties and had a job they were going to keep forever. Yeah, he was going to start teaching as a college professor tomorrow. First things in the morning—

—But…he was still himself. Fun-loving, dance-addict Jung Hoseok. Not quite willing to jump into stupid things like in his younger days; but not bitter either…like one would think for someone with such a heavy string of failed relationships. The thought makes him grimace. He jumps on his feet, shrugs off the heat and the veil of drinking that tried to settle over his brain. “‘m gonna dance,” he says out loud, announces more like, determined.

Junhong stops trying to get Suho out of his boots—what the fuck—to grin up at him wide. Mischievous. Here we go—“You gon’ try and get that cutie huh?”

“Shut up!” He laughs, rolling his eyes; unable to stop himself from blushing. Heating up at the thought, images vivid yet sweetly blurry printing themselves on the back of his eyelids. Hoseok’s heart’s so weak. Falling so easily, so strongly. It’s a fire that lights up suddenly and burns whoever had the bad luck of being the target of his ephemeral adoration.

But it tastes different, this time. Cherry eternity. Hoseok’s so weak. Can already imagine himself picking flowers with an angel he only caught the pale skin of and a petite figure looking like it’s been sculpted to be broken good. So good.

He tilts his head on the side, hazy and shameful but not really. Giving up, somewhere, steps leading him to the bar. Just at the edge of sliding in the mass of grinding people that try to make it pass as dance. Successful, no one pays head about anyone’s business in the dim lights of the club. Hoseok’s at the edge. Going to pass the lines of beings sat at the bar stools and knocking back drinks like water. Aims to forget his sudden obsession with fire and heat and touching people that aren’t this pretty wildflower—

It happens in a second; just a flash. He kind of stops breathing for a while.

The angel sitting at the bar looks equally ethereal as he looks uncomfortable. Upset. Curled, little body on the stool; long fingers playing nervously with the hem of his shirt. And goodness, and goodness. He’s shaking. Just slightly, almost imperceptible, but Hoseok’s firing way too fast toward him to not see it.

To realize that, perhaps, the shaking may be of anger. Directed rightly to the large hand itching higher and higher on his thigh; from the sleazy man probably in his forties that’s leering down and dirty at him. Swallowing up his personal space.

Hoseok’s shaking too. Vivid, as if he had seen a ghost. Barely glances at the most certainly pretty face he’s been itching to see all night. His eyes are frigid, he knows, as much as his blood’s boiling. Fake cheery smile and voice way too high for it to be totally natural. “Aw pumpkin…Making friends without me?” The pout that forms on his lip’s well studied. Used again and again and honed perfectly for quick change of masks.

Hoseok’s good at that. Knows the act he puts on’s perfect enough for two; but he wavers. Wavers when delicate fingers intertwine with his, a soft and spring-like smell taking over his senses as a warm body melt into his. Hoseok gets—Hoseok gets distracted. Looks down, slowly, smile still carefully joyous, and he sees. Finally. He sees.

And, Lord, Hoseok could cry. How did they make boys so pretty?

Boys with such pretty lips? This one…has a very, very pretty pair of lips. All pink and soft-looking, glistening with a red tilt that could be cherry chapstick as much as the vivid red drink the boy’s been nursing. It forms a sweet, relieved little grin as he looks up at Hoseok. “Never, honey,” he whispers, and Hoseok hears angel weeps at the angelic music that forms his voice. “He was just leaving, wasn’t he…?”

The creep had since long retreated his wondering hand. Nurses it close to himself, gaze unreadable, sobered up from his previous inebriated state. Finally, he breaks out into a leer as he gets up. “Whatever,” he shrugs. Downs his drink under Hoseok’s half still spell-bound and enamored gaze at the boy beside him, and half chilly at the older man. He throws them a last, knowing gaze, stumbling away with a very loud—“at least someone’s tapping that jail-bait ass.”

Wow. That was just a whole other level of creepiness right there. Hoseok shudders.

And then, it’s just the two of them. Not really. Not with the hundreds of body pressed against each other not so far from them. Not with his own friends probably wondering where he ran to; and the darling boy pressed against him—so little and warm—with his army of friends that would most certainly have hoseok’s head for being so close. It’s not just the two of them. But the boy’s smiling up at Hoseok. A little sheepish, a lot sweet. Cheeks a pretty shade of pink, but perhaps it is just Hoseok’s wishful thinking. At this instant, it’s only them.

“I’m—I’m legal. I swear.”

Hoseok blinks. And then laughs. A stifled, quieter version of his usual laugh, but not less filled with mirth. Kind of fonder, a lot relieved. Thanks fuck. Hoseok was going to fucking cry and go back moping and morose with his friends had the boy not been of age. He’s thirsty and with a huge heart boner for a little man he’s been mooning over all night—but he’s not that much of a creep.

He swallows the rest of his laugh, biting his lip, inching closer down. The boy’s lips part, and Hoseok’s eyes can’t help but follow the movement. “Well, hi, legal. I’m Hoseok.”

“You’re the worst,” the boy bursts out with a laugh, the hand still tightly intertwined with Hoseok’s squeezing tightly. His laugh stretches his cute little mouth to expose lovely gums and oh, oh. He’s so cute, Hoseok’s on the verge of tears again. “I’m Yoongi.”

Yoongi. Little, giggly and starlit-eyes man’s called Yoongi. Doesn’t look away from Hoseok, a little smile still on the corner of his lips. Bright something, illuminating the dark club, sitting pretty on his snow face and turning Hoseok’s legs wobbly jelly. “I,” Hoseok mutters, grip tightening around the little man’s shoulders. “please don’t hesitate to punch me in the face if I do something you dislike.”

“You’d have to do something else other than look at me from the other side of the room first, big boy,” the air turns a little thin with Yoongi’s whisper. Cheeky baby. Low voice tingly, oh so pleasing. Then heavier, as he looks up at Hoseok again. Cat-like eyes turned into bedroom eyes. Head tilted and mouth parting again, inviting. Hoseok could bite those lips and feast upon them until his damn last breath.

Yoongi doesn’t lean away, when Hoseok leans down down. Light body balancing between the hands that seize his hips, blooming flower, night sky in his eyes and millions of promises on his lips; vivid youth colored red delight, he’s so tiny between hoseok’s hands—yet so /powerful/. Aura wrapping in waves all around them, pliant for Hoseok, but a fire-like something in the corners of his grin that assures he could knock him flat if he ever wanted to.

And so, and so—

Later that night, when Hoseok’s towering over Yoongi’s quivering, raw-kissed and bitten body, filling him up to the brim and swallowing his every breath and moans—he silently congratulates himself on not getting punched once.

—

Hoseok has classes to teach like, right now. Right this instant. Has already written his name and raised his head to beam up at this new class. He has a class to teach. But he kind of wants to die, right now.

He spent the whole night and morning wondering how to keep the precious boy that curled in a ball on Hoseok’s chest, like a heat-seeking kitten. Didn’t have to try that hard, to his utter amazement. Yoongi has his number saved in Hoseok’s phone over breakfast. Doesn’t speak much after waking up, but he’s darling, so so darling. Lets himself be maneuvered and manhandled without a sound, seems to actually purr when his hair’s played with and—so easy to get along with. Hoseok feels like he’s known him for years. Grew up with him playing and staring at his cereals for an hour before eating it. It feels like an old memory poking his head in the present, to come in the bathroom and see the sleepy little man brushing his teeth slowly with Hoseok’s spare brush tooth.

Yoongi hadn’t need to do a whole lot for Hoseok to be utterly and completely smitten. And so, and so. The whole night and morning were spent with Yoongi-filled thoughts. Regretting not accompanying him this morning to spend more time with him.

Now—

Hoseok’s not sure it would have been a good idea.

He stares at the blanching, eyes-widening man sat not so far from him, and kind of dies a little.

Yoongi just had to be his student didn’t he?

#yoonseok #prompt #ask answered 💗#teacher/student au

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specialmindz · 6 years ago

Photo

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“*Sigh* Why...why do you do this? You know that’s not right.”

“...I’s ready to go Daddy...”

“No. No you’re not.”

“I’s ready to pay in da’ snow...”

“We’re visiting the king,” said Gaster, taking Papyrus’s boots and putting them on correctly.

He should be doing this himself.

“The king in the snow pace?”

“No.”

“He building a snowman?”

“NO.”

“alphys is sick baby bro,” said Sans opening a cabinet. “so i have to help dad work for the next few days. the king volunteered to babysit you for a while-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY?!”

“no pap-”

“HE GONNA SIT ON DA’ BABY!”

“papyrus…”

“YOU GOTS TO TELL HIM I’S NOT AN EGG BIG BUTHER!”

“what...?”

“You gots to tell him I’s not an egg! The king be reeeaal tall and stuff so when he sees a tiny skelly baby such as myself, he only see mah bald widdle baby head and he probably think ‘wowie, I find-ed a tiny widdle egg on mah doorstep! I bet there be a baby chicken inside...I bedder sit on it, or is gonna get cold-”

“you’re wearing clothes bro.”

“Yeah, but he can’t sees em’ cause’ he too big...Imma draw a smiley face on my head. Where the markers be?”

“You’re not allowed to have markers.”

“Dat don’t mean I doesn’t need em’. Baby is NOT a butt-plug.”

“what’s a butt-plug?”

Gaster sighed, already exhausted. He didn’t want to bring Papyrus all the way to New Home, and he wanted to leave him there even less. King Asgore was the Underground’s only hope of escape at the moment...the only solid one at least. He was Gaster’s safety net of sorts if Sans turned out to be unable to teleport his brother past the barrier. Without the king, the royal scientist would be an even bigger nervous wreck then he was now, but no one else was willing to watch Papyrus and there was no way on earth the little troublemaker would leave them alone while they worked.

Picking up the baby bones with his wingdings so as to avoid being bitten, he looked the infant in the eye. “His Highness is very lonely Papyrus,” he said gravely. “and what’s worse is he doesn’t know the full extent of your horrendous behavior. That means he’s going to be spending a lot of time with you rather than simply leaving you to play his lost children’s video games; that being said, you need to be kind to him. If he dies, there will be no one strong enough to wield the human souls and break the barrier, understand?”

“Ooooh! Fluffy Buns gonna pay wit da’ baby?!”

“yep, so be nice to him bro. no hitting, no biting, no tearing anything up-”

“Okay, okay. I’s gonna be nice and quiet and just read books like a good bae.”

“NO BOOKS. Do you hear me? NONE. Do not read him ANY stories. He can read to you, but do NOT read to him, do I make myself clear?”

The last thing I need is an hour-long phone call from the old fool trying to find the right words to tell me how to raise my child.

Gaster got a lot of those from the queen long ago if he remembered correctly and they annoyed him to no end. Not just because she took forever to get to the point, but because she refused to even consider the possibility that HER kids were the ones that needed a talking to. In her eyes, it was always Gaster’s fault, not her precious Asriel or Chara.

Even though Papyrus spent most of his time around those two and I’M always working, it’s still somehow more likely MY influence, right.

I do wonder though, whatever happened to the old hag?

I know she abandoned her husband and the kingdom, but where exactly did she run off to?

“I can pay wit da’ snails?”

“You’ll do what he asks you to do.”

Papyrus blew a raspberry in the scientist’s direction, splattering him with drool.

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“have fun baby bro, and tell me everything when you get back okay? maybe if you’re reeeeally good, the king will help you get into daycare!”

“Absolutely not,” said Gaster, placing the baby bones under his arm. “sending him to daycare is out of the question with its current management.”

“huh? why? what’s wrong with undyne’s mom?”

His father shook his head. “I know the woman who works there personally. She uses her child’s temper as a tool for suing parents who leave their children at the daycare she now runs. Whenever Undyne throws a tantrum and hurts someone there, her mother accuses the parents of child abuse, claiming that despite Undyne’s reputation, the children keep trying to play with her because their parents order them to. She has the king completely convinced that they’re getting their kids hurt on purpose so they can sue her. It’s a complete lie of course, she used to work at the lab pulling the same money-grubbing stunts until I fired her.”

And this was BEFORE the Underground was such a poverty pot.

No doubt she’ll try to use Papyrus somehow, wretched woman…

“Her husband fought and died in the war and so Asgore not only sees her as a lover of children who does everything in her power to enrich their lives, but also sympathizes with her. He sees her as a single-parent with a troubled child living in a bad economy and thinks she’s selfless and kind, when in reality she’s as greedy as they come.”

“well...she can’t go doing that forever and ever and ever though right? even if everyone’s poor, the king will eventually figure out she’s lying. he can’t believe the ENTIRE underground’s out to rob her.”

Even if everybody IS poor, he should know he’s being punked. Not EVERYONE is gonna gang up on ONE person, especially if they need that person to watch their kids.

“He’ll figure it out eventually, yes...but for now, Papyrus needs you. He’s better behaved when you’re watching him anyway; now I expect the beakers to be in place by the time I get back Sans-”

“Nyeh? Snas not gonna tellyport da’ baby?”

“nope. dad wants to make me do all the prep work and use your trip to asgore’s as an excuse.”

Gaster rolled his eyes and left the lab. There was no point in retorting, Sans would never understand how lucky he was compared to the other children in the Underground. Unlike them and himself, he wasn’t a victim of poverty and no amount of arguing on Gaster’s part would rid the boy of the entitled attitude that came with living comfortably.

Lazy ungrateful brat...he really thinks every kid sits on their ass all day while their parents work. Preposterous. Back in MY day, we used to work in mines and factories at his age and both places were messier than the Nursery. We spent most of the money we earned on medicine just so we could work more and he’s complaining about setting up a few beakers...?

“I thought Sans Serifs made up for their lack of strength with superior intellect, but clearly I was wrong. Damn that Charles Dickens and his god-awful Oliver Twist novel! If Sans hadn’t gotten ahold of that book-”

“To be, or not to be! Nyeh hee hee!”

“That’s Shakespeare.”

“I has look-ed upon all da’ universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me.”

“And that’s Lovercraft.”

“Waz Lovecafe?”

“Dr. Seuss for adults; you know what it is, you just quoted it.”

“Is mac and cheese?”

“YOU JUST QUOTED IT.”

“Yeah, but maybe I read-ed it off the box?”

“I highly doubt any form of Kraft Mac and Cheese would put the words ‘horror’ and ‘poison’ on their box,” said Gaster tightening his grip on the baby bones. The spring platforms were dangerous in Hotland when you were carrying things. It made him (and a lot of other people he imagined) wish that the elevators were better maintained as good food was only really found at the Resort or in Snowdin. That meant people who lived in Waterfall not only had to brave the harsh climate of Hotland, but also somehow carry their groceries back home across the springboards if ever the elevators were to break down, which was often...and today.

“WHEEEEEEE! DO A FLIP DADDY!”

Despite the overpopulation problem, there just weren’t many people who knew anything about complex machinery. Some monsters knew about the compromise Asgore had made with the humans long ago, but most did not. The deal was if he worked together with them to destroy the Horrors, they would refrain from mass genocide and settle for the monster’s self-imprisonment within Mt. Ebott. The king, in his cowardice, took the agreement and kept it secret from all his people, aside from the handful of Boss monsters he needed to raise the barrier itself...Boss monsters that had to put the barrier up from the outside in order to get it to work, which resulted in their destruction. His Highness, claiming the reason for the team up was because the Horrors posed a bigger threat to the earth, was left with weak monsters of all sorts with different backgrounds. None were prepared for Mt. Ebott. They weren’t a group of scientists, engineers, or soldiers, they were simply confused citizens who were one day told to gather inside a mountain by their king before being sealed inside and fed a bunch of lies.

There’s no one left down here who knows how to fix the elevators except me now, thanks to Papyrus. Asgore’s lucky I was already in here before this place was sealed, or he’d have quite a problem.

It would’ve been nice if he could go back to what he was doing BEFORE the monster came to Mt. Ebott and began piling work on top of him. He wanted and had been studying the strange climate changes within the mountain, trying to hypothesize if the volcanic activity had anything to do with the strange weather and if the source of all magic really stemmed from the Earth’s core, or if it was just a chemical reaction; but it had been so long since he’d seen his notes, he doubted they hadn’t already been chewed up by the hellspawn under his arm. Luckily, skeletons had the lifespan of a monster, and Asgore not only knew about the lack of educated monsters in the Underground, but was doing something about it, putting emphasis on certain subjects in schools and introducing the students to daily logic puzzles so that the next generation would be more tech savvy. It would take a while, but by the time most of the children in the Underground reached adulthood, most of them would know the basics of at LEAST electrical engineering and be able to fix those damn elevators.

If Sans didn’t have one hp I’d absolutely enroll him, but I need someone to watch Papyrus and he’d most likely be killed by one of those bratty school children. He’s too shy, small, and weak to be near anyone immature...I can’t risk it. Especially when I’m so swamped with work.

“It almost makes me want to try again...make a new clone and split it in half, this time the RIGHT way...but if I make another mistake, I’ll have FOUR children...”

“Nyeh?! You’s gonna make more babies?!”

“Absolutely not.”

“I wish to have a widdle sister. Not like Snas, I mean a REAL sissy-”

“Sans is the closest thing to a girl that will ever come near you, and I can say that with the utmost confidence.”

“Undyne a girl...”

“You heard what I said.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“What?”

“Snas say, when he do dat, I’s supposed to say ‘who there.”

“...”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Who there?”

“Stop that.”

Opening the door, Asgore greeted the two with a warm smile. “Welcome Gaster, I’m so glad you decided to bring your little one in person rather than having Sans simply teleport him here.” He bent down until he was eye level with Papyrus. “You’re looking adorable as ever Papyrus, it’s nice to see you too! You look like you’ve gotten a bit bigger since we last saw each other, ho ho ho!”

“You too.”

“PAPYRUS! I’m so sorry your Highness-”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he means well.”

“NYEH HEE HEE!”

Handing Papyrus to Asgore, Gaster frowned as he watched the baby bones snuggle into the king’s chest...a tactic the infant usually used to distract the people he was trying to steal from.

“Get your wingdings out of his pocket. I told you to behave yourself!”

“He’s only curious my friend! I remember when my little Chara was still alive, they used to go through everything-”

“Where all da’ monies at? You’s a king aren’t you? You’s supposed to be wich!”

“Ho ho ho, you’ve got your brother’s sense of humor I see!”

“YOU’S NOT FUNNY!”

“We’re gonna have such a fun day!”

“ERRRNNN!”

“Alright, I’m heading off. I’ll return for Papyrus as soon as you call me,” said Gaster turning to leave.

“As soon as I call you?”

“Correct. When you reach the point where you no longer wish to watch him, give me a call and I’ll pick him up. One, two days would be nice, or whenever you feel like your life is in danger-”

“NYEHHHHHHH!”

“Ah! Oh dear, it’s alright little one, I’m sure he was only joking,” said the king, bobbing the infant up and down in his arms.

“He’s not upset. He’s only crying because that’s what babies do when their parents leave for work, or in my case, to go shopping. Papyrus will do what’s expected of other babies, as long as you’re watching him, in order to convince you he’s a normal infant…despite his exceptional talents. If he gets hungry, simply leave him by himself and he’ll fetch his own food, in fact, leaving him to his own devices is probably the best thing to do in general, especially if you’re at a loss.”

“Leave him by himself? That’s madness! I know he’s not a monster Mr. Wingdings and so should thus be raised differently, but my house is built for large creatures…my cabinets may as well be closets in his eyes! What if he gets into my cleaning supplies? He could be poisoned!”

“I’s going straight for da’ soap!”

“NO you’re not. He’s not your Highness. Remember, he’s a natural born liar and unfortunately, another trait he shares with his brother is he’s very attention-seeking.”

“Is you seeking mah foot up yo’ ass? Cause’ dat’s what it sounds like douche Daddy…”

Gaster didn’t respond. He simply turned and left, leaving behind a very confused and concerned king.

“We’s gonna read a book Fluffy Buns? Daddy said I could read alllll the books I wanted while I’s here…”

“Um…s-sure…” said Asgore, carrying the Horror into the living room. He sat down into his chair and watched as the baby bones used his wingdings to grab a random book from the shelf, all the while struggling to shake the uneasy feeling that had been steadily growing within him since he picked the infant up.

He was familiar with Horrors…he had fought them in the war after all, but he had little to no experience with their children. Apparently, the majority of baby bones were supposedly more intelligent than monster babies, though it did differ with each infant and had a lot to do with their typing. Verbal Fonts, which is what Papyrus was if he recalled, were the first to learn language and so were able to hold entire conversations at a very young age; entire coherent conversations. While other children struggled with multiple lisps, Verbal Fonts would speak clearly and be careful to only alter their speech enough to sound cute and maintain the love of the adults around them.

An intelligent infant is a dangerous thing…combine that with Papyrus’s ability and my love for children in general, and I’m at even greater risk.

I must be very careful of what I say…

“So Papyrus, if I recall correctly, each time you’ve visited my home you’ve crawled straight for my children’s room to play. We’ve never really gotten to know one another, have we?”

Papyrus stopped flipping through the book. “Nyeh?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself little one?”

The baby bones looked at his book and then back at the king as if he were unsure of what to say. For a moment Asgore thought he wasn’t going to speak at all; perhaps talking to Papyrus like an adult wasn’t the best idea. Gaster DID say he tended to act like a regular baby in front of others…

Did I make a mistake?

“*Ahem* My name be Papyrus and I’s two years old,” said the baby bones holding up two fingers. “I enjoy cuhwering, long crawls on da’ beach, and my big Buther’s company…his peasants I mean, he not own a company.”

“Heh heh ha ha!”

“As for my own endevors, I help the Underground by selling cheap affordable drugs to junkies so they overdose and die…or I WOULD do dat, if SOMEBODY would stop cutting off my supply.”

“…”

“Dat someone be YOU Fluffy Buns…”

“…I would appreciate it if you’d get out of the drug trade Papyrus,” said Asgore averting his eyes.

“Well I would appeciate it if you’d stop fuking wit my job security, NYEH!” Papyrus threw the book he was holding onto the floor. It didn’t have any pictures, so it was basically useless.

Not something meant for babies anyway.

“Dis book suck! Where da’ pictures at Fluffy Buns? You get dis from the weird part of the library?”

“Seriously Papyrus, about your job-”

“One time I went to the library to get some books for Snas, and I found a book just like this…cept’ it wasn’t like this, it was all soft like a blankey!” exclaimed the tiny skeleton hugging his Highnesses beard.

“Papyrus.”

“Dis book was weird as hell Mr. Buns! I open it up and it had zippers and buttons in it! BUTTONS! Who puts buttons in a book? They didn’t do nothing either! I undid the zipper AND the buttons and there no pockets or nothin’. What dat spose’ to teach the baby? How that edgy-cation-al? I thought it would at LEAST have pockets with stuff in em’ but it didn’t have CWAP!” yelled the baby kicking his tiny legs.

“…”

“I talked to Dirt-Butt about dis and he said the book was a met-a-phor about life. He said is supposed to teach you that life is full of disappointment and people who look for free hand-outs deserve to BE disappointed-”

“What? No!” cried Asgore horrified. “The book you’re describing is most likely a sensory book. It’s a book that acts as a toy for-who is this ‘Dirt-Butt?’ Why would he say something like that to you?!”

What kind of-

“…I thought it was deep.” Papyrus picked the abandoned book back up. “Dis a meta-book too? What it mean?”

“It…it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a book about snails.”

“I think it mean…exercising yo’ ima-gin-ation be more important than relying on someone else’s. Dat’s why it don’t gots pictures. Is saying ‘exercise your ima-gin-ation and make yo’ own pictures. Make your own books wit pictures so OTHER peoples can enjoy them. Give back to da’ community.’ What you think Fluffy Buns?”

“I think it’s a book about snails.”

CA-CLACK!

Papyrus dropped the book again.

“…”

“I liked dat book, is easy to read.”

“You didn’t read it.”

“There was dis one meta-book I find-ed that I still can’t read dough. Is hard like dis one, made of wood, but it had weird stuffs inside dat was scratchy and rubbery and foamy and-”

“That’s another sensory book. Babies are supposed to touch the things inside the book to learn what they feel like.”

“Even the dead kitty?!”

“Dead kitty?”

What?

“There be a page inside that say ‘kitty’s are soft, feel how soft the kitty is?’ and there be fur sticking out page! I touched it and it was real fur Fluffy Buns! Someone squished a cat in a book and put it on the shelf!”

“No.”

“They squished it flat like Undyne…”

“No, also don’t talk about Undyne’s chest like that…it’s not nice.”

“Why not? She do! I ask her one time, ‘hey Fish-Lady, where your boobs be? Yo’ muder gots boobs, so where yours?’ and she go, ‘I don’t know, I think they ran away while I’s sweeping. My mama keeps hers in a hammock cage thing so they don’t get away, but she never bought me one cause’ she cheap.”

Asgore rubbed at his temples as if trying to will away a headache. He didn’t know if it was Papyrus’s seemingly boundless energy, continuous change in subject matter, or lack of listening skills, but the boss monster was feeling more and more drained as the conversation continued.

He expected a Verbal Font to be a chatterbox of sorts, but he didn’t expect it to physically affect him. It felt as if his mind were currently running a marathon whilst leaving his body behind.

Perhaps I’m just getting old, it’s not as if Asriel didn’t ask a million questions when HE was younger after all…though he wasn’t anywhere NEAR as bad as this. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised however, toddlers are one thing, but babies are quite another; they know even LESS about the world around them. Everything is new and exciting for a baby, so of course a Verbal Font like Papyrus is going to want to talk nonstop about even the smallest of occurrences.

Peeking through his fingers, the king watched Papyrus chatter on, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

Stars above, I can only imagine how tired Mr. Wingdings must be on a regular basis. Perhaps I’ve been pushing him too hard with all these demands…as important as they are, his children should come first.

“…So I say, ‘you needs boobs Fish-Lady for your footure babies! Erybody knows muder milk be the most nutritious!’ and then she did dat thing where her eyes get real big and her voice get loud and she scream, ‘OH MY GOD! WHAT IF SOMEONE STOLE MY BOOBIES WHILE I WAS SWEEPING SO THEY COULD HAVE FREE MILK?! WE MUST CAPTURE THESE VILLAINS AND BRING THEM TO JUSTICE!”

Asgore brought his hands down. “Was this last week?”

“Nyeh? I don’t know, why?”

“Because I got a lot of complaints about Undyne last week. That’s why.”

“Then yep, probably, cause’ she and I went around asking people bout’ her boobs and she beat up lossa people. The ones who laughed. She said only bad guys laugh at the unfor-tune-ate.”

“That’s,” the king groaned pitifully. “That’s not a good reason to assault people…”

“Is good enough for her.”

“I CAN SEE THAT,” said Asgore loudly before quickly catching himself and correcting his volume. “How about I make us some tea?” Getting up, he sat the baby bones on the chair behind him and headed towards the kitchen, a tactic he often used whenever he was in an uncomfortable situation, however he didn’t miss the glare the little Horror shot him on his way there.

“Babies don’t dwink tea! Babies dwink MILK! Dat’s why Undyne’s boobies be so important! Why you no listen?”

“I’m listening…”

“No you’re not, you weave right in da’ middle of mah story!”

“You’ve told many stories already, why not take a break?”

“A bake? I don’t need no bake! I gots to pactice my font daily or I’ll be weak when I gets big!”

His Highness glanced over his shoulder, placing a full kettle of water on the stove. “I see…so these stories of yours are a way for you to practice your lying without suffering any severe long-term consequences. I suppose it’s safe to assume then that most of what you’ve said about Undyne’s…rampage, is entirely false?”

“I doesn’t remember ERYTHING she say, or the EXACT words she used, but I’s still telling the tooth. I’s a good bae, ya’ know? I help Undyne when she was feeling sad about not finding her boobies even dough I didn’t have to. I told her mah Daddy could make her some new boobs wit his science and then she was happy, all cause’ of me.”

“Your father eh? So if I call your father, he’ll tell me the same thing?”

“Yep. I aspect so. He the one who solved da’ mystery of the missing boobies too! My Daddy a hero even dough he suck.”

“Right.” The king stood in near the stove watching the kettle, he was torn between going back to the living room and hiding in the kitchen. He WANTED to keep listening to Papyrus, but he was tired and the infant’s loud high-pitched voice was becoming unbearable. He wasn’t sure how much helium Gaster was pumping into that baby’s room, but it sounded lethal, which was too bad because one of the few things Asgore took pride in was the fact that he was a much better listener than his wife. He loved her, but he was all too aware of her awful tendency to jump to conclusions before hearing an entire story and how much pain it could bring others, so he made it a point to do better. To BE better. It was almost like a secret and silent competition of sorts where he would struggle to become the prince’s favorite parent…though it was embarrassing to admit and deep down, he knew it wasn’t right.

There was even a shameful time when he went overboard and blamed her a bit for their children’s deaths, though he NEVER said anything about it verbally. As king, he had to work most of the time to maintain the Underground, especially considering the shape it was currently in, which meant TORIEL was in charge of watching the children throughout the day. He didn’t know exactly WHEN Asriel left for the human village, but there was a time when he suspected it was while his wife was supposed to be keeping an eye on them. The idea should have made angry or sad, but instead he only felt an embarrassing sense of triumph that he hated himself for.

That is, until Gaster set him straight one night at Grillby’s.

“Don’t be a fool. Your child left in the middle of the night; it was no one’s fault, much less your own, unless you make a habit out of watching your offspring sleep.”

“How can you be so sure? We don’t have cameras around our house OR the barrier.”

“Common sense. Her Highness homeschools them in the morning so it’d be impossible to leave at that time and had the prince left in the afternoon, it would have taken him hours to traverse his way down the mountain due to the unfamiliar terrain and to even FIND the village. He’d only be able to reach it by nightfall when most of the humans sleep.”

“I…I see.”

“You’ve spent most of your life in the countryside, you must know what it’s like. The small villages that dot such places usually comprise of farmers…an early to bed, early to rise type of people. There’s little to no chance that there’d be enough of them awake to swarm your son, unless he left in the middle of the night and arrived at the village in the morning. Blaming yourself is irrational behavior, as is drinking away your day at the bar.”

“Y-You’re right…thank you.”

“…Then I tell Undyne to use her cute voice cause’ my stink Daddy don’t look up from his papers, but she still scu it up. She go ‘peas mister science man, can you make me some new boobies? I needs em’ for my wife and kids.” Papyrus shook his head. “Stupid Fish-Lady, I told her she stupid too. Wives don’t need milk, BABIES need milk, but she call me a clown fish and told me to shut my cwap mouth. ‘You doesn’t know ANYTHING stupid baby! I saw my mama use milk for her coffee and big people LOVE coffee, so he gonna feel bad for mah wife and kids and give me boobs for a bargain!”

“…I’m curious as to what your father’s response was.”

“Daddy told her dat she took after her muder and to ask HER where her boobies were.”

Asgore nodded, though the baby couldn’t see him.

Ahh, the old ask-your-mother response. I remember using that many a time.

If he recalled however, it never ended well. Passing uncomfortable situations like that onto his wife proved to be...problematic, as the queen was stubborn in her ways.

“I do hope you didn’t bother that poor woman Papyrus.”

“Nyeh? Poor?” Papyrus looked confused. “She not poor! Undyne’s muder wich! I knows cause’ she gots vases with no flowers in them. I asked her why that be and she said it was none of my beeswax and to not come in her house when the door be locked…I think she sold Undyne’s boobies Mr. Buns, but I can’t proves nothing…I think dat’s what Daddy was trying to tell us.”

“I assure you, she did nothing of the sort-”

“Can I borrow yo’ boobs Fluffy? You doesn’t need them no more right? You give them to Undyne?”

“I don’t…I don’t have those things,” said Asgore, wincing as he heard the pitter patter of tiny boots headed towards the kitchen.

“You look like you do…” said the baby peeking around the corner.

“WELL I DON’T.”

“But you look like you do…hey, what chu doing?” asked Papyrus tilting his head.

Picking up the infant, Asgore began carrying the Horror towards the room he was currently renovating. “Why don’t we go play a game while the water’s boiling, hm? I’m sure you’d rather spend time playing than talking to an old man like me. I’ll even play with you! How’s that sound?”

“Annoying…”

“Ho ho ho!”

As his Highness began to set up the game counsel (something that had to be done every time his children played a game), Papyrus glanced around the room, the previous conversation forgotten. Nothing had really changed since he’d last been in here…in a sense anyway. Chara and Asriel had always been very competitive and it continuously resulted in the destruction of everything in the area except the game counsels they were using. The place itself was a mess of broken toys like the Nursery, but there were scorch marks every which way and bits of splintered wood from destroyed furniture. To his right he could see something that may have once been a table of sorts, so he imagined the princes might have been eating and gaming in the same place; a practice he THOUGHT their mother had banned long ago due to the stains on the wall from food that had no doubt been thrown in a rage after one of the children’s gaming sessions.

Despite spending so much time together, the two had personality traits that contrasted greatly with one another. Asriel was a coward and Chara wasn’t.

That being said, the little goat monster had a tendency to use underhanded tactics to win games when he saw he was losing, such as complaining to their mother about Chara killing Yoshi so he could keep his high score in Mario, or pretending to “accidently” pull his controller out of its socket so his loss wouldn’t count. It infuriated Chara, who was much more mature when gaming, and it often led to violent fights and ultimately their games being taken away for a week or so while the king and queen had the game room repaired.

As a baby that valued courage more than most, Asriel’s behavior disgusted Papyrus, but he stayed quiet about it while he was over. After all, the baby was a guest and no one was perfect. He suspected that Asriel’s parents and environment in general played a big part in feeding his friend’s cowardice, that and monster babies weren’t like skelly babies. They didn’t seem to have the natural instinct Papyrus had to try and grow up properly. They weren’t born with a sense of discipline or ambition; In fact, from what he DID see, all monster babies did was sit around and wait for others to do things for them. He knew because they didn’t change when they became toddlers or even children like Asriel. They still spent all day playing for fun and making demands instead of practicing their magic or trying to intentionally learn new things.

“They spoiled.”

“Hm?” Asgore turned from the counsel and looked around. “Yes, I suppose we did spoil our children a bit. There are times when I wonder in fact, if they’d still be alive if I had been stricter with them…made them afraid to leave the house without permission.” He chuckled and sat on the floor next to Papyrus. “Then again, children will be children and Asriel shared his mother’s stubbornness. He’d of left no matter what I threatened him with.”

Papyrus took up a Gamecube controller and glanced doubtfully at the king. “You know how to pay dis game, or is you gonna be an old person da’ whole time?”

“Excuse me? I set up the game-box didn’t I? Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean ALL technology eludes me young man!” Turning on the game, they watched through the cinematics until only the title screen SUPER SMASH BROS MELEE remained with the words “PRESS START” fading in and out at the bottom.

“…”

“…Why isn’t it starting?”

“See dat button in the middle of the controller there?”

“Which button?”

“The only one in da’ middle. The one that say ‘start.”

“This one?”

“Pess it.”

Asgore pressed the start button and they were taken to another screen with multiple choices that immediately made the infant regret keeping quiet about the choice of game.

“So this is that Super Smashing Fighters game you all love so much! Look at all these options…since I’m a ‘noob’ heh heh heh, I think I need some training…what does ‘1-P’ mean?”

“Go to ‘VS. Mode.”

“Alright…oh. Oh I see,” said Asgore as he was taken to the character screen. “Going straight to the game are we? You’re like Asriel it seems. You don’t want to give me a chance to learn how to play, you just want to win.”

“No Fluffy.”

“You wish to take advantage of my old age and lack of understanding.”

“No. We’s gonna fight as a team. Pick yo’ peoples.”

“OH! OH I KNOW THIS MONSTER! IT’S PIKACHU!”

“Pick yo’ peoples.”

“How do I pick Pikachu?”

Taking the controller from Asgore, Papyrus hovered over the yellow mouse and pressed the ‘A’ button. “You see dis button Mr. Buns? See how it gween like a stop light? Think of dis button as the ‘yes button’ If you want something you use the ‘yes button’ to get it. The red button here be the ‘no button’ if you don’t want something, you pess the ‘no button’ kay’? Cause’ red be a bad color dat means STOP like a stop sign.”

“What?”

“Use dis to pick stuff and dis to go back.”

“Oh alright.”

So as to avoid more annoyances, Papyrus went ahead and made the proper arrangements for their team battle, choosing Kirby as his character.

“Dis game needs more babies…”

“Papyrus. Papyrus look.” Asgore pressed a button on his controller. “He’s got a little hat, ho ho ho!”

“…”

“Aren’t you going to dress up your pink guy?”

“He don’t get clothes till he eat you.”

“Oh my goodness, there’s a princess in the game! Papyrus choose the princess, I bet she has nice clothes…oh no wait, be Pichu! That’s Pikachu’s baby right? We can be a family of fighters!”

“Pichu sucks.”

“But we can be father and son and-”

Papyrus quickly changed his character to Pichu and put Princess Peach and Kirby in the other two slots as their opponents. “Okay, there. I’s Pichu. We pay now?”

“Does he have any-”

The baby bones changed his costume.

“How adorable! This game is so very very cute! I don’t see why Tori had such a problem with it…maybe she didn’t know about the outfits? She had a habit of making mountains out of mole hills that woman…how do we proceed?”

Pressing ‘Start’ they made it to the stage selection screen where, thankfully, the king immediately chose the one with the giant pokeball on it, having apparently recognized the object from an old video series his children had found miraculously intact at the Dump.

As the game began, Papyrus’s annoyance faded a bit as he watched Asgore test out the controls without asking about them. He may not have known much about technology, but obviously his battle instincts transferred into the game, as he seemed to instinctively know not to distract Papyrus during the fight…that is…until he noticed their opponents where no match for the Horror.

“How do I catch you?”

“Nyeh?”

“How do I catch Pichu? Every time I throw these pokeball things at you they turn out to have someone in them already. Where are the empty ones, or how do I empty them out before catching you?”

“DON’T CATCH DA’ BABY!”

“You’ll be safe in the pokeball. It’s part of a grand strategy-”

“Dis not Pokemon! Dis MELEE! You just supposed to kill da’ pencess and the pink bae-”

“What? Killing?! This is a FIGHTING game Papyrus, we’re supposed to be JUST fighting, not killing!” His highness grumbled in frustration as the princess sent him flying into the abyss.

BOOSH!

“Is just a game Mr. Buns.”

“There are more important things in life than winning, child. Don’t-DON’T YOU PICK UP THAT HAMMER PAPYRUS! Did you not get in trouble for using such a thing in real life?!”

BOOSH!

Once again, Pikachu met his end to a frying pan.

The baby bones patted the king’s arm in an attempt to comfort the agitated monster. “Don’t be mad Fluffy, you do bedder next time!”

“What? I’m not angry! I’m not angry and that’s not the point!”

“You are. You’s mad cause’ the pencess be kicking you in your asshole.”

“She’s not-she’s not beating me, I’m letting her win because she’s a woman. It’s not good to hit women Papyrus, that’s not how a gentleman behaves!”

“Liar. She kick yo’ ass and now you’s mad.”

“I’m NOT angry. There’s nothing to be ANGRY about! This isn’t even a real GAME child! I told you I didn’t know how to play, so I need training. This game doesn’t count, it’s merely a learning experience!”

“A learning ah-sperience?”

“Quite.”

“Hm…then perhaps during dis game you can learn to be less of a bitch.”

“…”

“…What?”

“I’m calling your father.”

“Nyeh? Why? What I do?”

“You’re using naughty words and doing naughty things.”

“Ohhh, you wanna cry to my Daddy cause’ you feel embarrassed and you wants time to get good.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You wanna send baby home so you can pactice.”

“Absolutely not!”

REEEEEEEEEE!

“Oh look, yo’ tea be done! Now you can go to da’ kitchen and peetend mah Daddy just called to check up on things!”

“PERHAPS HE WILL CALL!”

CA-THUM!

As Asgore stormed away, slamming the door behind him, Papyrus crawled over to the prince’s toy chest to scavenge for new crayons to take home with him.

It was unfortunate that Asgore and Asriel were so very much alike when it came to anything competitive, but that didn’t mean he and Papyrus couldn’t get along in general. He had had a good time talking to the king and even though he was mad, the infant wasn’t worried in the slightest. His Highness was upset, but he wouldn’t stay that way forever. Despite the fact that he was definitely going home, he knew he and the king would play again some other day and the baby was looking forward to it.

And as for Asgore himself, he decided allowing Papyrus to ingest a bit of soap wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry for the wait, I had a computer error that erased ALL of my progress. Even if I did make the one month deadline, this still should have been done earlier, so I made it longer as compensation.

Also I finished another chapter of Fonttale 3, so there’s that too. I hope you all have a good holiday with your loved ones and remember to cherish them while they’re still around.

On another important note, I’ve no idea who drew this, but appreciate it’s existence. I tried looking it up through reverse image searching, but after it showed me a ton of results and I clicked on one, Norton freaked out and warned me that it had just blocked something...so if you want to know who drew this, reverse image search is NOT the way to go, otherwise you’ll risk your shit. Just thought I’d warn people who don’t have computer protection.

#Fonttale #Fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Papyrus #Baby Papyrus #Gaster #Sans #kid sans #Asgore #a bit of deltarune

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zankivich · 6 years ago

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Teacher’s Pet: A College AU Chapter 9

It’s important that y’all know that I’m half way past drunk while posting this and thus cannot be held responsible for spelling and grammatical errors. I hope you like it. Please give the feeds of backs if you’d like.... Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Shawn’s performance quickly took precedence over everything. He was spending sometimes six or seven hours a day in the practice rooms just going over songs and writing and practicing. He would come home late at night and crawl into bed only to toss and turn with a lyric in his head, or a bridge that wasn’t sitting right. It didn’t occur to you that a recital would mean so much until he explained that there was talks of scouts being there this year. It had all come out during a late night cuddle session when his body was refusing to shut down, so you stayed up with him.

“So, there’s potential for you to get discovered at this thing? Like maybe actually do music?” You asked.

He sighed and shrugged his incredibly tense shoulders.

“Yea, I guess so. I mean the internet’s a crazy place. I book shows regularly around here on my own. I’ve got a decent following on soundcloud and youtube. It could… it could become something. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s scary.” You hummed running your fingers through his curls.

He was lying against your chest naked besides his underwear, but his whole body seemed to be locked up with anxiety. He really seemed to need the reassurance.

“It’s what you want though isn’t it?” You asked.

He peered up at you, lifting his head from your chest and staring at you with lost eyes.

“Huh?”

“Like if you could choose right now, to fully dedicate yourself to it, and just go for it. Would you?”

He licked at his lip in thought. “It makes me happy. It’s what I wanna do forever.”

You smiled. “Well then, you’re gonna do it. You’ll be scared shitless right now, and you’ll sit in my bed when you can’t sleep, and you’ll take out all of your frustrations on me sexually, and then you’ll just go out there and do it. Because it’s what you want. And i know that you can do it.”

He peered up at you finally taking a deep breath and seeming to come out of his head for a little bit. His eyes told you just how truly scared and nervous he was, which just meant it mattered to him a lot. You ran your hands up and down his back in a soothing rhythm willing his body to relax as he settled into your body again.

“Will you still love me, even if I fail?” He asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

“Even if I’m broke and have to move in here with you?” He teased smiling for the first time that night.

You grinned. “I’m in crippling debt for probably the rest of my life, but sure until they kick me out, you can be a lump in my sheets.”

“K. I love you.” He mumbled reaching up to kiss your forehead.

You eagerly returned the sentiment.

“I love you too.”

The stress didn’t get all that better, but having his family around seemed to help him cope at least. You could tell that letting them down was something he seemed to worry about often, and there was this really beautiful, but troubling thing about his relationship with his mom. He loved her terribly, that much was obvious, but it seemed like he had very specific goals for his life and that they didn’t align with what she wanted for him. He never talked about it though so you didn’t pry. But it became all the more obvious when she showed up at your office for lunch.

“It took me ages to find this place,” She gasped walking straight into the middle of the room. “I don’t know how these kids do it.”

“Mrs. Mendes!” You exclaimed jumping out of your seat. “H--Hi. Um what are you doing here?”

She smiled holding up a bag. “I brought food. Shawn told me you liked In-N-Out.”

“Shawn told you that, did he?” You smiled reaching for your phone.

Sure enough there was a text stating 9-1-1, here comes mother. You still made a note to kick his ass later.

“Yea, I figured we could spend some time together. Shawn thinks I come off a little intense, and you seem really important to him, so I want to make a good impression.”

You softened at that because you weren’t made of fucking stone, and mother’s loving their son’s was just sweet as all hell.

So, you both sat on the love seat and you did everything in your power not to remember how many times you’d blown Shawn on that very couch but your cheeks still got red anyway. Jesus take the wheel, truly.

“I just wanted to say, because I didn’t get a chance to at lunch the other day, that I think you’re lovely. You’re intelligent and sweet and obviously deeply involved in human rights and what not. Shawn’s never had someone in his life quite like you. And I can tell it’s having a wonderful impact on him.”

You bit anxiously at your burger wondering if it was a Canadian thing to spill every gut and feeling you’d ever had in general conversation, or if it was just a Mendes thing. Maybe it was the whole world, and you were the defect.

You do your best to be honest and sincere because it’s your boyfriend’s mother and you actually don’t want her to hate you.

“I wish you could see the greater impact he’s had on me. I don’t really get around much outside of my department so there’s not a lot of people in my life to notice the difference but...he makes me extremely happy. I--I’ve never felt anything like it before. He’s a special human being and he means a lot to me.” You murmured hands and eyes on your food. “I’ve been so focused on my studies for the past five years that I haven’t really taken the time to enjoy my life. He makes it impossible not to.”

She sniffled and you peered up in horror thinking that she was going to cry. There was definitely something there, but she managed to keep it together.

“Well… that’s just all a mother wants to hear now isn’t it.” She smiled. “Thank you, dear.”

“It’s no problem. I’ve kind of fallen in love with him, so I’ve decided to keep him for a while.” You grinned.

She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze and it felt kind of like acceptance. You ate beside one another for a while in comfortable silence. It wasn’t so bad. She didn’t hate you, and think that you were absolutely wrong for Shawn in every way. At least she wasn’t telling you that anyway. So you felt like things were good. And then she showed you embarrassing pictures of Shawn as a child and they were even better. It was a look, truly.

***

The night of the performance was weird because you couldn’t touch him. It was in the middle of the huge performance hall on campus. There were faculty and students and families everywhere. So, when he left to go backstage it was without a hug or a kiss or anything. (There was definitely pre-performance, celebratory sex; you weren’t a monster after all). You were left to sit between his mother and his little sister waiting for the lights to go down. It was scary to know that everything he’d been working up to since you’d practically met was gonna come out on stage that night. But ultimately performing seemed to be so transformative and therapeutic for him, that you weren’t worried in the slightest.

The beauty of a liberal arts school is the music department was well funded and supported. The students who were performing that night were talented as fuck, and it showed with every person who got up on stage. Curious about what musical producer might be the lucky one to sign your boyfriend, you peered around the room in fascination. Your eyes landed on Roger, the student from your class who was barely passing and seemed to hate Shawn--and anyone who cared about basic human rights--with a passion. He stared right back at you and it sent a chill through your spine. Aaliyah said something about the person performing, drawing your attention back to her, and by the time you looked back to Roger, he was gone.

You didn’t have time to think about uber creep because before you knew it they were introducing Shawn to the stage. He was wearing a floral shirt, because you told him that he looked hot as fuck in them--which he did, and it was french tucked into his jeans. Tan France was doing wonders for his wardrobe and for your sex life. He looked like he belonged up there.

“I’m Shawn Mendes. This first one is called ‘Nervous’.” He smiled.

You noticed that one of his housemates was on stage on the drums with him as they began as they began to play together. He searched through the crowd as he played and sang, a smile lighting up his face when his eyes finally found his family and you. It was another new song that you’d only maybe heard bits and pieces of, but he rocked the hell out of it, quickly coming alive on stage. The people before him had done ballads and orchestra numbers, and very exquisite pieces in terms of style, but Shawn was just playing music that everyone wanted to hear, and you could physically feel the room shift from his presence. It was beautiful to watch.

Warmed up and finely tuned, he slid into his next song with ease. He performed the song from the club after your fight, Like To Be You, and In My Blood. Just as you expected he got lost in the music, and there wasn’t a person in the whole entire room who wasn’t vibing. When he finished, everyone stood and clapped giving your man the standing ovation he deserved. He was perfect and wonderful and deserved all of the praise in the world. If there were people who performed afterwards you didn’t notice because, he was the only thing on your mind.

You: You’re an icon. Everyone loved it. I’m proud af.

Shawn: Thank you. That was insane! I feel like I could do 20 more songs

You: After tonight, I have a feeling you will

Shawn: Sheesh. Come back stage?

You: Are you sweaty and disheveled?

Shawn: Of course

You: Omw

Backstage was a whirlwind, people running around getting ready and practicing in the middle of the hallway. Shawn was standing with his friends, the biggest smile in the world upon his face. When he spotted you, everything else seemed to be forgotten because he was snatching you up in his arms and pressing his lips firmly against yours in front of everyone. You let it slide because this was his night, and you wanted him to have the world and the stars if he asked.

“Are you gonna leave me for all your fangirls when you get signed?” You murmured wrapping your arms around his waist and peering up at his tall form.

He captured your face in his hands and kissed at your nose and lips making a smile appear.

“Never.” He whispered.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that?.” You grinned hugging him closer.

The affection between the two of you must of been stifling because his friends were quickly scoffing and moving away. But, Shawn was sliding his hands up and down your back and giving you these smiles that just fill your heart with warmth. How could you not want all of the PDA in the world with this man.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. You wouldn’t believe the inspiration you’ve given me. Every song I’ve written lately is about you or inspired by you.”

You reached up onto the tips of your toes to kiss him again.

“Good. You can give me writing credits whenever you’re ready.”

He laughed at the sound was absolutely glorious. All the tension in his body had faded and he just looked happy and sweaty and puppy like. That thing that had been pulling you to him since the day that you met only seemed to strengthen as if it was a string that was pulling tighter and tighter. You didn’t want to be anywhere else than right by his side, and you couldn’t believe that everything about him could make you as happy as it did.

When the rest of the performances were over, you both made your way outside to go visit Shawn’s family. It was on the way towards the doors that he got stopped, some guy in a business suit reaching his hand out to him. You stood as far away as was socially acceptable while still being able to hear. Business suit guy gave Shawn a card and clapped him on the back and it seemed like the stars were aligning. You didn’t even get a chance to go freak the fuck out before two other men were doing the same thing. By the time Shawn made his way back to you, his face was glazed over with a look you’d never seen before, and he didn’t seem to have the words.

“Well….What did they say?!” You asked practically bouncing where you stood.

He shook his head still in shock. “Atlantic. Universal. Warner Brothers.”

“They all want to meet with you?”

“Y--yea.”

If Shawn was frozen you were the exact opposite jumping up and down like a wild banshee and screaming in his ear. He didn’t seem to believe that any of it was real, but none of that mattered. There were celebrations to be had dammit.

You dragged him outside where his family was waiting and had to share the news yourself. There was this beautiful moment where they all kind of four way hugged him and he couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t show anything other than complete and total elation. Everything was perfect.

You had made reservations for his favorite restaurant, this steakhouse he took you to for your one month anniversary, and you were in charge of driving the vehicle, with his family in the back seat and Shawn in passenger. He held your hand the whole time, fingers intertwined against the center console while conversing with his family about the show.

When you all got out of the car, he pulled you into his side and kissed at your hair. Affectionate Shawn was the best Shawn.

“I’m so happy, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” He whispered in your ear. “My hands are shaking.”

You took both of his hands in yours and squeezed feeling the tremors in his fingers.

“Just enjoy the moment. You’ll want to remember it later.”

He nodded looking to make sure that his family was far enough ahead before leaning down to your ear.

“When we make love tonight will you let me do that thing that I like?”

You rolled your eyes pushing your boyfriend away from you playfully.

“You’re such a harlot. We’ll see.” Which meant yes. Yes. And maybe once in the bathtub.

At the dinner table they spoke nothing of their love making, but that didn’t stop Shawn from showing you more attention than was even necessary. When he wasn’t leading the conversation he was playing with your fingers or nuzzling his face into your neck like the giant puppy he was. And even when you were all talking as a group, he would specifically make eye contact with you when you spoke, his face all smiles and general cuteness. A lot of it had to do with the incredible amount of stress he’d put himself under the entire week before. Now that it was all over, it was almost like a high. Even if three of the biggest labels in the industry hadn’t approached him, he’d done what he’d set out to do and you had been beside him the whole time.

It was while sitting at the dinner table that your phone started to buzz. You ignored it at first because Aaliyah was telling a particularly funny story of Shawn once attempting to get into Hogwarts by creating a video application that unfortunately could not be sent due to the fictionality of the school. It continued to buzz though by the time they started playfully bickering about who had more embarrassing things to say about the other. You finally took a moment to peer down and check it. It was from an unknown number and there was no text to the messages, so you had to open your phone to see the image.

The first picture was Shawn reaching for you excitedly backstage. The second was you hugging him back and smiling at him. The third was the moment when he kissed you. There were shots of him holding your face in his hands. One of you with your arms wrapped around his waist while he kissed your cheeks. Whoever had taken them was close enough to make it indisputable. It was you and Shawn engaged in clearly non-platonic behaviors.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the world seemed to take on a different color. Your ears felt stuffed and you couldn’t really hear or focus on anything besides what was in front of you. Someone knew. Someone knew and they had every intention of using it against you. Maybe against Shawn too. It was your greatest fear--besides like drowning and dying unfilled and actual fears. It was the things that had haunted you since the moment you saw him. But when you were with Shawn, he made it impossible to stress or to worry or to not love him with everything in your being. The world felt like it could be conquered when you were together, like it was yours for the taking. This was a huge burst to that bubble because the world wasn’t that way at all, and being together still went against a lot of rules.

“Babe?”

You looked up taking a deep breath as you did, seemingly having forgotten how to breathe as Shawn finally got your attention.

“Sorry. Sorry, uh what?” You mumbled closing your phone.

He raised an eyebrow immediately catching on to the fact that something was astray.

“Everything okay?” He asked. “You kinda blanked out for a sec.”

You looked around the table and noticed that everyone was staring you with varying levels of concern. You tried to smile, hiding the phone deeper between your thighs as if it would make the incriminating evidence go away.

“Yea, no I’m fine. I actually just need to go to the bathroom, so I’ll be right back.”

You moved to get out of your seat, hoping that you could sneak outside and do some investigating when Aaliyah jumped out of her seat.

“Me too. I’ll got with you.”

Dammit.

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” You nodded.

Shawn sent you another look that was inquisitive and nervous, but otherwise let you two go.

Aaliyah was kind of the coolest teenager in the world, and you two had really hit it off during the last couple of days. She seemed to trust you, which was really heartwarming considering she didn’t owe you anything, and she too seemed to pick up on the odd energy that you must have given off at the table.

“You don’t have to be nervous about Shawn or anything.” She explained as you made your way into the bathroom.

“Nervous? What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just saying, my brother’s never acted this way with any girl before. He’s never introduced a college girlfriend to the family. You’re...important to him. And he’s kind of like an all or nothing sort of guy, so don’t be afraid of him pulling away or anything. The guy’s obviously head over heels.”

It had nothing to do with the situation at hand and yet it still managed to slow your heartbeat. She had no reason to want to comfort you, or to care about the nature of your relationship past making sure her brother was okay. And yet, here she was following you to the bathroom just to make sure you weren’t hyperventilating.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of an icon?” You asked.

She smiled, and it reminded you so much of Shawn it was incredible.

“No, but I like that one. Tell that to my brother, so he knows I’m the best.” She smirked.

“I promise, I will.”

In the bathroom you sent a text to the mystery number to see just what in the hell they wanted.

You: Okay. What do you want?

Creepy asshole: To make you both suffer

You groaned hitting the switch to turn your phone off. There was no point in arguing over text message with some creep who had zero intentions of being rational.

Back at the table, Shawn’s eyes followed you as you sat down. They were soft and worried and it made you wanna cuddle him instantly.

“Everything okay?” He asked, voice lowered so it was only directed at you.

Telling Shawn that someone had caught them backstage would only ruin his night. He’d worked so hard to finally get what he wanted, and an innocent kiss backstage shouldn't ruin that for him. So you chose to keep it to yourself for the time being.

“Yea, I’m okay.” You murmured rubbing your hand reassuringly up and down his arm. “Your sister’s an icon though.”

He raised his eyebrows peering over at Aaliyah who was all smiles and innocence.

“What could you have possibly done to my girlfriend in the span of ten minutes?”

Girlfriend still sent all of the feels straight to your heart. Especially considering girlfriend might be all that you were once they threw you out of your master’s program.

Aaliyah smiled. “I can’t help it that I’m kinder and smarter and more loveable than you bro, it’s just something you’re gonna have to deal with.”

You chuckled and he looked at you with incredulous eyes at the slander his sister was dealing out.

“Babe you recognize you’re supposed to love me more on the basis of principle right? Don’t let my sister trick you. She’s actually a monster.”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out at him and he returned the sentiment because they were apparently both children despite one being twenty-two years old.

“I’ve got plenty of love to go around.” You promised holding his hand once again.

He hummed intertwining your fingers and kissing your forehead. “And yet somehow I want all of it.”

He was close enough that you could lean your chin on his shoulder and whisper in his ear.

“It’s yours.”

He turned so that your eyes could meet, both of you reveling in the weight of the statement. It was true. He didn’t have to ask for anything because you were already willing to give him everything. And so even though you were terrified of the future and what might happen, it didn’t nothing to affect your love for him. He would always have your heart. There was nothing anyone could do about that.

Taglist:

nevermindmisha

@alltoowhalee13 @glader-groupa-sub8

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes Imagine #Shawn Mendes fanic #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes smut #Shawn Mendes au #Shawn Mendes angst #shawn peter raul mendes #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes college au

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queens-floyd · 6 years ago

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Drummer Girl pt. 5/Holiday Special

Masterlist

A/N: the beginning is eh angsty but it gets really fluffy ;) it’s a “Christmas special” a day late. Oops. Also I’m sorry to the people in the tag list I forgot to add one on pt. 4. Forgive me!

Roger Taylor x OC

Warnings: Language, alcohol

Lavender’s POV

It was that time of year again. Christmas Eve. Honestly, I haven’t had a real Christmas since my dad left. Before, we would throw parties and have feasts, see all my cousins and relatives, it was my favorite holiday. After that, we stopped going to family gatherings all together. They didn’t want to see us and we didn’t want to see them. My mum’s side of the family lived in another country and since my dad left, we couldn’t afford to visit them. My mum and I tried to celebrate Christmas as much as we could, but times got hard and eventually we stopped the traditions completely seeing we both started working and earning money was more important than celebrating.

Now, I’ve completely forgotten what it’s like to celebrate Christmas. It’s just a normal day for me. I ordered take out from one of the last stores open and enjoyed my lovely alone time. I ended up felling asleep on my couch with some half eaten chow fun on my chest.

I slept peaceful until I felt some sort of ball hit my head. I sat up suddenly expecting to have spilt my noodles all over myself, but I wake up in a different sofa... in my old house. I look around to see who threw that ball and I see two young children sprint past me. I look around some more and I see dozens of people, adults and children. I shake my head and realize these are all my relatives. There are lights and food, so much food, and a giant Christmas tree by the window I would use to practice guitar. I sat there in confusion for a while til a voice pulled me out. I felt a hand on me and I flinched.

“Oh honey, you’re finally awake.” The voice says. I look over and I see my mum.

“W-what? What is h-happening?” I said shaking. She is here. Right here in front of me. Touching me. I feel tears well in my eyes. “Mum?” I say shaken.

She looks healthier from when I last saw her. More full of life. Her beautiful long hair was curled and put up into a messy bun and her makeup is how she would do on holidays. She was wearing a gray wrap dress and low black heels. She looked so beautiful.

“Honey, are you okay?” She says looking concerned.

“I think she’s just disoriented from taking such a long mid day nap.” A voice behind her says. A hand reaches to her shoulder and a face all too familiar appears. A face that I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“D-dad?” I say, not caring that nothing makes sense.

“You shouldn’t be napping kiddo. It’s Christmas and your cousins wanna play with you.” He says laughing. Kiddo. He use to always call me that and I absolutely hated it. Now, it is so relieving to hear it come out of his mouth. He is wearing the ugly Christmas sweater I bought for him when I was eight. It was the first time I bought something on my own.

I jump up and hug both of them tightly. Just to make sure they’re there. They both are shocked at first, but they hug back tightly.

“Woah there kiddo, you’re gonna put out my back.” My dad says. We all laugh and hear one of my aunts call everyone over to open presents.

As I walk to the tree I see the feast of food layed out on the table. My mouth waters. I haven’t eaten food like this since forever. My mum was a great cook and we would always cook together before she got sick.

We got to the presents and my parents handed me a large, wrapped box with little reindeer on the paper and a big green bow. I took it and they smiled widely as I opened it. I tore the paper and underneath there was a suitcase.

“Well, go on open it! We hope it’s what you like.” My mum says.

I unlatch the two latches and slowley open it. Right as it fully opens all other sounds drown out and a loud ringing is heard. Then banging. Then more ringing. It sounds like the doorbell to my apartment. A few more rings and bangs, everything disappears. I rub my eyes and when I pry open my eyes again, I see I’m still on my couch with noodles all over my pants. I was all a dream. I sigh as I hear the doorbell again, then a few pounds at my door. I slowly walk over to my door, upset at whoever woke me up. I go to unlock the door when I hear muttering from behind the door.

“Come on she isn’t home. It’s Christmas Eve she’s probably with family...” a voice says

“One more time then we’ll leave”

I open the door to reveal the four infamous members of Queen and Mary. All of them understandably surprised and Roger with his fist up, about to pound on my door.

I look at them wide eyed not expecting this sudden arrival when they all shout out, “Merry Christmas!”

“Huh?” I say really, really confused.

“Uhh she might not celebrate Christmas...” John says from the back. They all look guilty and slightly cringe at themselves.

“Oh no, I do.” I say, “well, I did...”

“You don’t look like you’re celebrating” Freddie says. I look at myself in my week old pajamas, noodle stains on my pants.

“Well I don’t celebrate anymore.”

“Why not?” Brian says as I step aside for everyone to come in.

“No one to celebrate with I suppose?” I shrug and go to clean up my mess.

“That’s sad.” Freddie blurts, “Well now you’ve got us, and we are taking you to a Queen Holiday Extravaganza! And I am not taking no for an answer.”

“Okay...” I say hesitantly.

“Excellent! Let’s go find you something to wear!” Freddie says as he he waltzes into my bedroom.

“Freddie! Don’t go in there with out her permissi- ugh!” Mary says as she looks back at me sympathetically and chases after him.

I look around and John and Brian are examining my guitar collection. Then I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around and it’s Roger with a large box wrapped in little reindeer wrapping paper and a large green bow. It looked vaguely familiar.

“I got you something... I thought the boys got you something as well, but I guess they didn’t get the memo.” He said rubbing the back of his neck.

I laugh and shake my head, “you idiot, you shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” I lightly punch his arm and take the present. Honestly, I was really happy and greatful for this gesture. I haven’t gotten a Christmas present in a very long time, so this really meant a lot to me. I rip open the gift and open the cardboard box inside. I remove the tissue paper and see a t-shirt. I pull it out and it is probably five times too big for me. I peek out from behind the shirt and raise my eyebrow at Roger. He is wearing a huge smile on his face as he motions for me to flip the shirt. I flip it and the first thing I see is his face, prominent on the front. It shows all the boys and the word ‘Queen’ and their logo. On the shirt there is a big red heart drawn over his face and smaller hearts around it. I glare at him again and he is doubling over laughing. I go over to attack him when he holds up both his hands.

“Woah woah woah, there is one more thing in there.” He says trying to defend himself.

I look back to the box and toss the remaining tissue paper. I pick it out and see that it’s Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ on vinyl. I look closer and see the signatures of Roger Waters and David Gilmour.

“Oh my God. You didn’t” I scoff

“I think I did” He says crossing my arms and peeking at my astonished face.

I let out one more loud laugh and tackle him to the floor in a hug.

“Roger!” I screamed at him as he held me on top of him. We were both laughing hard, “how did you know?”

“Well, when I was doing your laundry after your whole... incident, I stumbled upon all of your Pink Floyd memorabilia. You seem to take a liking to another Roger who isn’t me.” He says offended.

I laughed and hugged him once more before rolling over next to him on the floor. I hold up the record to examine it once again. “This is awesome. How did you manage to get this? It hasn’t even been released! And how did you get them to sign this?”

“Did you forget? I’m famous, love. I met up with them and that Roger is apparently a fan on this Roger. They wanted Queen to take a listen, ya know from one band to another.” He says turning over to me. I tackle him into another hug.

“Ok I found a dress for you Lavender!” Freddie yelled from my bedroom, “it took us ages to find a suitable dress in that mess you call a- woah” all the attention shifts to me on top of Roger and I jump off of him quickly, elbowing him in the stomach in the process. He groans in pain and John, Brian, and I snicker at him.

“Well, whatever was going on needs to take a break because we need to be at this party by 6:00 and it is currently 6:15. I do like to be fashionably late, but at this rate we’ll miss the good booze so... chop chop love birds.” Freddie says as he tosses me a small red dress that I haven’t worn in ages.

I hold it up to reveal the tiny fabric, “Uh... this will definitely not fit me. Can’t I wear some jeans and a shirt?”

“Squeeze yourself into it love, it’s a Christmas Banquet so you must present yourself nicely my dear.”

“Whatever.” I say rolling my eyes to squeeze myself into this dress. I somehow get my body into in and look at myself in the mirror. I could care less what I wear as long as I can drink alcohol in it. I put on a leather jacket and motorcycle boots and walk out of my room.

As soon as I walk out all the attention is on me. Roger’s mouth waters and I throw my pajamas shirt at his face.

“I brought you some booties Lav,” Mary says handing me some heeled boots. I cringe at the sight of heels knowing from experience that alcohol and heels don’t go well together, “don’t worry they’re more comfortable than they look.”

I sigh and stick the on and get use to the new height.

“Very well. Should we go?” Brian says.

We leave accordingly out of my apartment. Freddie and Mary holding hands and Brian and John close after. I grab my purse and start to exit. I feel Roger come up behind me,

“You looks spectacular Lavender.” He says close to my ear. His hand rests on my hip and gets too low. I glare at him while he has a nasty smirk on his lips. In my quick temper I punch him in the gut as he doubles over in pain and groans loudly.

“Try that again drummer boy and next time I’ll aim lower.” I say grabbing my purse and walking out, “Merry Christmas my friend!”

“Damn.”

Bonus:

The party was quite fun. The most fun I’ve had in a while, in fact. I got a handful of glares here and there seeing my close affiliation with Queen, but I could care less. I danced with all the guys and Mary and I drank my usual amount, so I was quite drunk and I dance with a few random men. We all had fun, Freddie got his attention, I got my drinks, Roger found a good looking blonde, things were good.

At one point I was apparently getting too close to this one bloke and Roger had to pull us apart.

“Come on man, he was pretty good looking to me!” I whined at him, “how come you get to have women rubbing themselves at you and I don’t get to have one dance with a guy I choose?”

“You’re drunk. You can thank me later.” He said.

“Uh oh!” Freddie yelled from across the room. He runs over close to us, “I spy two little hotheads under my special Christmas decoration.”

We simultaneously look up and see a mistletoe.

“Shit.” I say. Roger looks at me with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna force you.”

“Well I am. It’s the rule.” Freddie says taking a sip of champagne.

“Fred! Come on you know she doesn’t...” Roger keeps complaining at Freddie as I look around and pluck a drink from a random person’s hand as I mutter a quick ‘sorry.’ I down the whole drink quickly. I grab his face mid-sentence and place a chaste kiss on his lips. He quickly catches on and deepens the kiss for a few seconds and puts his hands on my hips as I pull away. Freddie cheers and everyone follows along. His hands are still on my hips and looks at me shocked and slightly impressed.

“What? It’s not like you haven’t kissed half the people here.” I joked at him. Many people in the crowd nod including Freddie and Brian.

“It’s true. I know!” Deaky says from the edge of the room. Everyone shares a quick laugh and disperses back to the party. I attempt to walk away as Roger grabs my arm.

“Hey, we’re not gonna be weird about this right?” He says

“I’m not weird about anything. But, no. It’s fine, it was just a mistletoe kiss. No harm done.” I say grabbing two shots from a passing waiter. Roger looks at me as if I were going to give one to him.

“Oh these were both for me.” I say downing both, coughing at intensity of the liquid, “...strong” I say between coughs.

“That’s what you get for double-fisting Freddie’s special tequila, love.” He said laughing at me. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. And just letting you know, you are a marvelous kisser.” He says pinching my butt as he walks away. I was so ready to knee his balls, but I was busy choking on “Freddie’s special tequila.

“I’ll get you back Taylor!” I wheeze at him.

“Sure you will. Merry Christmas!”

Tag List: (some people it wouldn’t let me tag) Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

@isabella-bby @overcastskeleton7 @childishslytherin @2ptonpt @cosmiclunas @rain-must-fall @anamcg317

#bohemian rhapsody #queen #ben hardy roger taylor #brian may #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #drummer girl

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chancellormatt · 6 years ago

Text

Voltron Rewrite Episode Seven - Outside the Box

Prince Lotor watches as a shuttle lets out a group of alteans into the hangar. Behind them, is the opening the displays an elevated view of the colony. However, none of the alteans give more than a glance in that direction. They have eyes only for Lotor. The new group of alteans is just the latest in a series of arrivals, and they soon join the larger mass of alteans standing directly in front of Prince Lotor. Lotor smiles as the new group arrives. “...alteans...my friends. You have shown great bravery in following me on this journey in the name of justice and duty. Together we will save the universe from this false Voltron. Some of you have already taken the first steps into this dark conflict, and regrettably have been lost. They will be remembered, and avenged...” He pauses for effect. “...but before any one takes one more step there is someone you should meet. You’ve already all already been introduced to my honorable mother. Now...it is time for you to meet my father.” With that Prince Lotor turns to the far end of the hangar, where a door opens. Emperor Zarkon steps out into the light. He strides over, drawing the eyes of every altean in the hangar. He steps up beside Lotor, then takes one step further, as if to show who is really in charge. “...I am Emperor Zarkon.”

The begin to mutter amongst themselves with confusion, and what looks to be fear. “I understand you have heard stories of me.” Zarkon says. “Stories from your ancestors no doubt, of the man who destroyed altea. But these are lies that were spread ages ago, deceiving even your own forefathers. I am not here to destroy but to rebuild. I am going to crush this pathetic imitator Voltron. If you serve me faithfully, as you have my son, then once I am done, I will grant you a new world. One where you will not have to hide from outside forces, or fear from invading enemies. If you fight in my name, I will grant you something no other being in the universe can: a new altea.” The alteans fall into a stunned silence. Lotor gives his father a questioning look. Zarkon nods slightly. “I understand this may confuse many of you.” Lotor says. “That it may conflict with what some of the stories you were told by your parents, or grandparents, or great grandparents.” Lotor says. “But you must understand that this is the final test. Where does your faith lay? With old stories told second or third hand, whittled and distorted by thousands of years? Or do you trust in me? In us? The ones who rescued you, and have given you everything?” The alteans seem to hesitate for a moment. Then, at the head of the group, Luca speaks up. “Hail Lotor, and his father Zarkon!” This seems to break the alteans from their moment of pause. Slowly they all begin to repeat the chant, until the whole of the alteans are repeating it. Lotor smiles, satisfied. Zarkon turns away. “You see boy? I am capable of a subtler hand. When it suits me.” Zarkon says the words in a low enough voice that it is only heard by the two of them. “Thank you. For playing along.” “Just do not forget who’s shoulder this falls upon if it fails. You may have your toys, boy. Just make sure I am not forced to step on them.” With that Zarkon walks back out of the hangar, leaving an uneasy looking Lotor, with a crowd of chanting alteans behind him.

*** Keith lands the Black Lion on the field just in front of the Galaxy Garrison base. He lets out a sigh of relief before getting up to exit his lion. The other Paladins do likewise and they are met with a small crowd of family members. Hunk is practically tackled by his very worried looking mother, with his father follows suit. Pidge is lifted into the air by her mother, who clutches her tight enough that is seems she might break the diminutive girl. Lance virtually disappears under a small mob of extended family. “Princess are you hurt!? Are you well rested? Is there something I can get you?” Coran sputters out, upon rushing out to meet Allura with Romelle in tow. “I’m fine Coran. Just...drained.” “Well have no fear, I’ve got just the thing for that! An old family recipe…” Keith shakes his head at the display, and turned to Shiro approaching, with Commander Iverson trailing shortly behind. “Hope everyone wasn’t too anxious while we were gone.” Keith says, nodding to the cluster of families. “I think everyone’s just glad you’re back.” Shiro says with a smile. “Finding out about that other robot that beat you guys up sure isn’t helping me sleep any, though.” Iverson puts in. Shiro gives the man a stern look. Iverson only shrugs. “Everyone knows about that already huh…” Keith says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tried to keep it under wraps, but news travels fast, I’m afraid.” Shiro sighs. Keith nods distractedly, while his eyes scan the crowd. “Looking for Krolia?” Shiro asks. “Yeah.” Keith admits. “She...busy?” “Unfortunately. Just about all the Blades left the moment they heard about Zarkon and this new Voltron. She really wanted to stay here for you but…” “...duty calls.” Keith nods. Despite this, he sighs. “It's probably anyone’s bet when they’ll be back...” “You sound tired. Some rest might do you some good.” “As great as that sounds right now, I think the Garrison is gonna want to talk about what happened.” “Well I can talk to Sanda, maybe she won't mind giving you guys a few hours to-” “Lieutenant Shirogane!” Sanda’s voice squawks over Shiro’s communicator. “I see your space lions are back. Well tell those kids and all your other Coalition friends that we need to talk. Now.” Shiro sighs. The other Paladins, all close enough to hear, look up with dismay. Keith closes his eyes for a few moments, then nods. “Tell her we’re on our way.”

*** “...empire is now mine, as is rightfully so. You are now mine. There will be no discussion. I am in charge once more, and forever.” The video of Zarkon’s message to the Galra plays across a screen in the briefing room. Sanda pauses the video after that last line and turns to face the Voltron Coalition side of the table. “When was this broadcasted?” Keith asks. “Yesterday, so the Coalition communication team you left here tell me.” Sanda explains. Keith nods. After no one seems to want to speak up, Sandra goes on. “The way this war was described to me is that the enemy, The Galra, were fractured. Broken up into separate factions that were dangerous, but lacking focus that central leadership would provide. You also claimed to have one other major advantage, that being the Voltron weapon. Now, if I understand it correctly, both of those factors have now changed. The Galra have gained both a leader, and their own Voltron.” “That is...all technically true.” Keith says reluctantly. “Does someone want to explain this to me? How an enemy you were supposed to have beaten just came back even stronger?” Sanda asks. There is an exchange of looks on the Coalition end of the table. “We...don’t really know.” Keith admits. Sanda sighs. “You realize how this puts me in a difficult position don't you?” “I don’t. All I see is more reason than ever to fight the Galra Empire.” Keith says stubbornly. Sanda raises and eyebrow. Allura takes the opportunity to speak up “It's true that that Galra have a leader again, but they are also in a transition of power. Until Zarkon has solidified his hold on the empire, it will be vulnerable. This is a potentially bad situation, but it also could be the prime opportunity to end this fight.” Keith gives her a thankful look. “Well that’s all well and good, in theory, but let me lay it out for you kiddos...” Sands says. “You want us to join a fight where you are now undeniably the underdogs. Where we would be thrust into a battle that would leave us hopelessly outnumbered, against an enemy that has a battle machine even stronger than yours.” “You’ll have to fight them sooner or later.” Keith replies, without much strength. “So you say.” Sanda says dismissively. “Our stance of not getting involved will remain until you show us something to change our minds. As it stands, you haven’t even gotten us the Balmeran crystal we were promised yet.” Keith’s eyes fall. Allura also is lacking a reply. Shiro looks as though he is going to say something, when Keith speaks up again. “We’ll get the crystal.” He says looking up with surprising calmness. “We just need time. This war is taking all the resources the Coalition has, so we’ve hardly gotten the chance to get it for you. But that being said. I have to wonder...if you really want your Atlas up and running so much, how confident are your really that the Galra aren’t going to find you?” Sanda’s eyes narrow. “You know that there are some who want to kick you off our planet? They think the danger of having you here is too great. You may lead the Galra back here sooner or later…” “What!?” Hunk cuts in suddenly. “Most of us Paladins were born right here on earth! You can’t just send us away from our home! “I really hope I don’t have to.” Sanda says deadpan. Hunk sits back looking disturbed. The other Paladins also look worried. Keith only stares at Sanda. He does this for several more moments, before finally standing up. “You want to leave us to fight this war alone? Fine. We’ll make do. Earth is just one planet. But if you ever want that crystal don’t you dare threaten to keep my friends from their familie.” Sanda meets his gaze. Eventually she gives a short, curt nod. “Our arrangement will remain unchanged....I’m not the bad guy here Keith. But this situation is volatile. It's my job to keep it from exploding in our face.” “Let’s see if you still feel that way when the Zarkon comes knocking.” Keith says turning away. “Is that it? Are we done?” Hunk asks. “Yeah. We’re done.” With that Keith leads the Paladins and most of the Coalition members out of the room. Matt and Shiro linger in the room a bit longer. “That was cold, Sanda. Stone cold.” Matt says, shaking his head. “I’m doing my job Holt. Something I doubt you know much about.” She replies sharply. “Annnnd with that I’m out of here.” Matt says standing up. “I’d say I missed your frosty personality Sanda, but I haven’t.” And with that he left. “Think I’ll take me leave also. Duties to uh...take care of.” Gunderson shuffles awkwardly out of the room. Shiro and Sanda are the only two remaining in the room. “...I thought you said you’d try to spin this.” Shiro eventually says. “I tried Shiro.” She sighs. “I really did. But the council saw this for what it was: A complete and utter disaster.” “Is there any way we can convince them otherwise?” “You want my advice? Cut the head off the snake. Fast. That girl knew what she was talking about. If you don’t put this Zarkon in the ground before he gains momentum...well I don’t think any involvement from Earth is going to change anything at that point.” “That’s easier said, than done.” with that Shiro gets up to leave himself.

***

Keith waits outside along with the other Paladins, as Shiro exits the briefing room. “Well that didn’t go well.” Keith says. “Not really.” Shiro admits. “Did I make everything worse? With what I said?” “No.” Shiro shakes his head. “You held your own in there admirably. It was a bit of a no-win scenario. Sanda’s playing tough, but she really doesn’t have as much say in this as you’d think.” “Well neither do we…” Keith shakes his head, and glances at the other Paladins, who are to his surprise, all looking at him expectantly. “Go on guys.” He nods. The Paladins give quick goodbyes and head off to different parts of the Garrison base. “Look at that.” Shiro smirks. “What?” Keith asks. “They were looking for your permission. They’re staring to see you as their leader.” “Glad something good came out of two of our greatest enemies coming back and kicking our butts halfway across the universe.” Keith says sarcastically. “You sure you don’t want to get some rest yourself?” Shiro asks. “I think I’m all right…” Shiro tilts his head, as if having an idea. “Hey Iverson,” Shiro calls over to the man who is starting to make his way down the hall. “They still got my old hoverbike laying around here somewhere?” “Somewhere in storage, I think. Why?” Iverson replies. Shiro gives Keith a look. “Think you’re up to a race in the canyon for old time’s sake?” Keith smiles widely. “You’re on, old man.” Shiro groans. “Is it the white hair? It's the white hair isn’t it…” he reaches up as if to touch his scalp, but falls short, as a result of his missing arm. “...you sure you can ride like that?” Keith asks. “Afraid to loose to a guy with one arm?” Shiro replies. “Not a chance.” “Let’s stop wasting time asking questions then…”

*** “Hey guys I’m-” Hunk starts to say. “Oh honey!” Hunk’s mother grabs him and ushers him inside the family apartment. Hunk’s father sits at the dinner table while his aunt and uncle are working on something in the kitchen. “There he is!” Hunk’s uncle says. “Oh dearie, is he alright?” Hunk’s aunt asks. “I’m fine act-” Hunk is plopped down at the table, and a bowl of steaming stew is soon placed in front of him. “You had us terrified!” Hunk’s mother says. “When we heard about all that nasty fighting out in space, well…” “Quite the scare kiddo.” His father puts in. “Guys I’m really fine.” The others stare. “I mean...some rough stuff happened...but we came out alright.” The adults share a collective look. “Hunk…” His mother says, with tired eyes. “This thing...a war in space? It's all too dangerous. I don’t...we don’t want to hear one day that you just won’t be coming home. Please tell me you won’t go out there any more.” Hunk looks down into his food, but doesn’t seem very hungry. “I did tell them that I was thinking about leaving…” His mother looks hopeful. “...but I can’t just abandon them right now. Without me they can’t form Voltron. They…” His mother goes back to looking crestfallen. Hunk sighes. “I can’t leave yet...but I guess I could see about finding someone else....someone to pilot the Yellow Lion.” Hunk looks like the words came with great difficulty. “Thank you Hunk.” She smiles. The rest of the adults visibly relax a bit. Hunk only sits back, looking uncertain.

*** Allura walks inside the warehouse, flanked by Coran and Romelle. “Really Princess, after everything you r-” “I’m fine Coran.” Allura replies firmly. Coran sighs. “Very well. I suppose I just wish that I was still out there with you and the Paladins. All this waiting around is bad for my heart.” “Well hopefully that will be possible once the new castle is completed. How is that coming along.” “Ah yes…” Coran says rubbing his mustache. “Well I have to say these humans aren’t half bad at construction work.” he notes a half-constructed engine that is bigger than any of them are tall. “It's still many weeks if not months from completion, but still, impressive. Although I really must thank Miss Romelle here. She took more even more late nights than I did helping get those plans in working order. Without her, I’d probably still be translating those plans by myself.” “Really? Romelle that’s commendable.” Allura notes. “I’m only doing my altean duty.” The girl replies, look at her shoes. “I truly appreciate it…” Allura says, smiling. After a moment her smile falls and she looks distant. “Princess?” Romelle says uncertainty. “I’m fine.” Allura puts her back up. “But there’s something we should do.” Coran and Romelle look at her confused. “There were two more alteans that we captured before fighting the other Voltron. I intend to find out if they are willing to listen to reason where their comrade was not.” Coran and Romelle both nod with determination. Allura activates her communicator. “Ryder? Let me know the moment those prisoners are awake. I’m going to want to speak to them…”

***

Lance kicks a soccer ball around with his niece and nephew, just outside the Garrison base. His family sit at lawn chairs and benches they have set up, and there is food cooking on a grill. Lance tries to execute a fancy kick of the ball, but accidentally slips and ends up face planting. Lance only laughs it off and continues kicking the ball around. Eventually he waddles over to a chair and plops down between his Grandma and sister Veronica. “Man where do they get all that energy?” Lance says panting. “Just wait until you get my age.” Lance’s Grandma chuckles. She is knitting something. “What are you talking about grandma? You’re the liveliest person I know.” “True.” His Grandma shrugs. “But I’m special.” “Guess you got me there…” “From what I hear, Lance turned out pretty special himself.” Veronica says nudgin Lance in the arm. “I mean sure, no one expected much, even after he followed in my footsteps and joined the Garrison. But hey, he went and became a space, hero, defender, whatchamacallit.” “Paladin.” Lance corrected. “I’m a Paladin of Voltron.” “And we’re all very proud…” Veronica reaches over, pulling Lance into a hug that is more headlock than embrace. “Hey, quit it!” He says wriggling out of her grip. Their Grandma only chuckles. “Maybe now that you’re some big shot spaceman you can finally bring home a girlfriend eh?” Lance blushes. “I dunno if I’d count on that…” “Whaaat?” Veronica says exaggeratedly. “No bragging about all the girls fawning over you? No bold claims of being a ‘lady killer?’ Not even one your classic pick up lines? Is that really you Lance? Or did you get replaced by an alien out in space?” “I don’t-” Lance hesitates. “Okay maybe I do do that…look, just don’t worry about it. Maybe I’m…” He winces. “Maybe I’m not the ladies man I pretend to be.” “Ouch.” Veronica says with surprise. “That must have been hard to admit. Who hurt you little brother?” “Shut up.” He says sitting back in his seat. “So there really isn’t any special someone?” Lance’s grandmother asks, with a raised eyebrow. Lance sighs. “...I guess I really thought Allura was the one for me. But...well that didn’t go over so well. A friend pointed something out to me. Basically she said I was only falling in love with the idea of Allura, without really knowing her. I’m starting to think she was right. But...where does that leave me? Did I ever really know Allura at all? Have I just been going about this the wrong way the whole time? ” Veronica chuckles. Lance shoots her a dirty look. “Hey I’m kind of baring my soul over here.” “Sorry.” She says still smirking. “It's just that...you’ve kinda been doing this since we were kids.” “What do you mean?” Veronica clicks her tongue, and shakes her head. “Do you remember that girl from back when you were in...fourth grade, I think...anyway, her name was Sandy or Sammy or something like that.” “Sandra.” Lance corrects her. “I remember.” “Ah good. Then you’ll remember that you thought Sandra was the most beautiful girl in the whole world. You said that. Multiple times.” “I know.” Lance says with a grimace. “Man you really just followed her around everywhere. She had you completely wrapped around her finger. It was annoying to be honest-” “Is this going to have a point?” Lance cuts in. “I’m getting there little brother. Anyway, so you thought she was the best thing since sliced bread, and would do just about anything for her…that is up until you found out she’d been bullying your other friend.” “Lydia.” Lance recalls. “That’s the one. Lydia. As soon as you found out what was happening, you walked right up to Sandra and let her have it. You told her she was the ugliest hag to walk the earth and that you’d rather spend a million years with a real friend like Lydia than another second with a jerk like her. Of course you went on to chase after a bunch of other girls that you would say were ‘the most beautiful in the world.’ Most weren’t as bad as Sandra. Most.” “And the moral is…what? I’ve got bad taste in women? Allura isn’t like Sandra. She isn’t a bully. If anything she’d too nice for me to be worth her time.” Veronic smile coyly. “Well Lance, the thing about that story, is that there was one detail you never quite figured out. And that’s that Lydia was totally in love with you.” “What!? No we were just friends.” Veronica sighs and shakes her head. “That poor girl…Lance did it ever occur to you that she followed you around just as much as you followed Sandra around?” “She didn’t…” he hesitates. “...really?” “Yup.” “Why didn’t she ever say anything?” Lance asks with shock. “Probably because the girls you always chased were nothing like her. That’s also probably the reason she eventually gave up on you and drifted away.” Lance blinks. “...huh. What ever happened to her anyway?” “Think she was engaged last I heard. Lucky her.” “Yeah.” Lance sighs. “So the moral is that I only cared about whoever was the prettiest girl around, and ignored the one person that actually gave a dang about me. Thanks sis. Good talk.” “Oh I don’t know about that…” His grandmother finally chimes in. “Huh?” His grandmother smiles. “Who did you side with in the end?” “Well Lydia of course. Sandra was a bully.” “So which one did you really care about? The pretty one you were chasing around? Or the one that was your real friend?” “I...guess maybe...I didn’t notice which one was really important to me.” He seems to consider then shakes his head. “Dang this is really starting to mess with my head.” “So I guess the question you need you ask yourself is...” Veronica says.”...do you have a Lydia today?” “Nah.” he dismisses immediately. “I’m not a kid anymore. I think I’d know if someone secretly had feelings for me...”

***

Pidge sits on the couch of the Holt apartment. She flicks her finger across a handheld table looking frustrated. The dog Bae-Bae sits in her lap and gets the occasional scratch from Pidge, but otherwise she remains focused on the tablet. Her father, Sam sits at the kitchen table looking over a report, while her mother, Colleen is cooking something. The door pops open and Matt walks in, along with N-7. “Nice of you to join us Matt.” Colleen says, without looking up. “Sorry I was late. Can N-Seven stay for dinner?” N-7 waves over to Colleen. The woman smiles and nods. “Of course. Does she…” “She’s fine actually. But it's more about the company anyway right?” “Of course…” Colleen says, pretending to understand. Matt’s eyes fall on Pidge. He smiles and walks over to plop down on the couch next to her. N-7 takes the seat on the other side of him. “What’s my baby sister up to now?” Matt asks, looking over Pidge’s shoulder. “Just...trying to figure this out.” Pidge replies, not looking up from the tablet. “What is it? Computer code? Secret communications relay? Multilayered cypher?” He squints at the screen of the device. “...just regular notes?” “I’m...trying to figure out this situation with Zarkon. How he’s alive, I mean. Figured writing out all the possibilities might help.” “Did it?” “No.” Pidge admits. “We saw him die. You can’t just...come back from that. Lotor should be gone too. But they’re both back. With their own Voltron. It doesn’t make sense.” “Maybe he faked his death.” “And let his empire fall into the hands of his son? Doesn’t sound like Zarkon. And what’s the motive?” “Lotor could have been in on it. Maybe it was all part of a larger plot.” “To do what? It's not like Lotor suddenly turned on us. If anything he seemed content to keep working with us right up until we found out what a real dirtbag he was.” “Maybe...it was to buy time? For Zarkon to make his own Voltron?” “That...seems to be what they want they want us to believe. But that’s got issues too. For one, as far we know there were only ever two trans-dimensional comets. But even if there were another one, it still doesn’t make sense why Zarkon would let his empire fall to ashes while he used it to make his own Voltron. He loves control and domination, and making sure everyone knows it. Hiding in the shadows has never been his M.O.” Matt thinks for a long moment. “Could they...be imposters?” Pidge thinks about it for a moment. “I...guess. But Probably not. Their Voltron is definitely real, and who else would have the power and skill to both make and fly a new one?” “Hm.” Matt says sitting back thoughtfully. “Yeah. Pidge says tossing the tablet aside. “It's going to bug me until I figure it out. I hate not understanding things.” “That’s what makes a good scientist.” Sam pipes in. “It's also really annoying sometimes.” Pidge sighs. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out sooner or later.” Matt says. “In the meantime, I’m good with relaxing for a bit. Fighting a war is exhausting.” He reaches and arm over N-7’s shoulder, and she leans into him. “Speaking of things I don’t understand.” Pidge mutters. Bae-Bae barks in apparent agreement. “Ah Pidge, the ways of romance were once a mystery to me too. You’ll get there one day.” N-7 nods in agreement and gives her a thumbs up. Pidge only turns away and wrinkles her nose. “I don’t have the slightest interest in getting all lovey-dovey with anyone.” Matt only shrugs. N-7 rests her head against his. Pidge makes as if she is avoiding looking at the two, but her eyes occasionally flicker over to the pair. “...how did ‘this’ happen anyway?” She asks eventually. “I’m interested in that too.” Colleen chimes in. “Yeah let’s hear it.” Sam also joins in putting aside his reports. “Well N-Seven tells it better…” N-7 shakes her head and pokes Matt in the chest. He sighs. “Alright alright. We first met on an asteroid in the Terunthium Belt. Our rebel cells were meeting to do some joint operations. We hit it off pretty quick, both of us have an interest in computers and whatnot. We were mostly just comrades in arms at first. But fighting the same battle for so long you get close. It wasn’t long before she totally had a thing for me.” N-7 pokes him. “Alright, alright. It was a mutual thing. But we didn’t talk about it. It was one of those things that just hung there, unspoken.” “So what changed?” Pidge asked, still feigning disinterest. “Well, it all started when were raiding this Galra facility on Ruvfa-Four. Me and N-Seven were hacking their servers, when a bunch of soldiers busted in. They weren’t supposed to be there, so we were caught off guard. I took down the first two, but I couldn’t stop the third from getting a shot off with his gun. He would have nailed me in the chest. But N-Seven threw herself in the way of the shot. After I finished beating that guy senseless, I made sure she was alright. A little to the left and she wouldn’t have been. I asked her why. Why she would take that shot for me...” “What’d she say?” Pidge asks, leaning in, clearly gripped. Matt smiles wistfully. N-7 nods for him to continue. “...she said that she did the math, and that risking her life was worth it to make sure that I kept living. That's when I knew. With her sitting there, looking up at me, a hole busted in her, I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to live without her. And that’s exactly what I told her.” N-7 squeezes his hand. Matt smiles at her. “Awww.” Colleen says. She leans over and whispers to Sam, “What exactly is…” “I don’t know, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.” Sam whispers back. “So you just...knew?” Pidge asks, with disbelief. “Yeah.” Matt says simply. “But...that doesn’t make any sense. How can you just know something like that. There’s so many variable, so many things to consider you can’t just-” “-Pidge.” Matt cuts her off. “Coming from someone who thinks a lot like you, sooner or later you have to stop thinking. Just take the leap. You’ll just get in your own way otherwise.” Pidge sits back folding her arms. “I still don’t get it.” “You will.” Her mother says with a wry grin. Pidge avoided her gaze. “...but thanks N-Seven.”Pidge says eventually. “For making sure my dumb-genius of a brother didn’t get himself killed.” N-7 nods enthusiastically, and shooks Pidge a pair of thumbs up. “Being in love changes a person.” Sam ponders. “You get to see things from a different person’s perspective. Learn to think outside your own box. You might scoff about it now but-” “Think outside the box.” Pidge repeats, blinking. Sam pauses. “...uh oh. I know that look.” Pidge picks back up her tablet and scrolls through it. She smacks herself on the forehead. “...I’m an idiot.” “What?” Matt asks. “I was thinking too inside the box. If Zarkon really died, and Lotor really is still trapped in the quintessence field...then there is one thing that explains all of that.” She bolts up out of her seat so fast Bae-Bae has to scramble not to get thrown by the action. “Quick, dad! Where’s Slav!?” “Slav? He locked himself in one of the boardrooms the moment he heard about Zarkon and the new Voltron. Something about working out the numbers.” “I need to see him asap!” “Well I guess we could see if- “Hold on now!” Colleen cuts in. Everyone in the room turns to her. “Dinner is almost ready.” She says in a steel voice. “But Mom, the fate of the galaxy could be at stake!” Pidge objects. Colleen stares down her daughter. For several moments no one speaks. Finally Colleen gives in, with a sigh. “Dinner will be here when you get back-” “Thanks mom! Come on dad!” “Duty calls.” Sam shrugs, getting up. “You just better be back here before my casserole gets cold.” “Wouldn’t dream of anything else, dear.” With that, Pidge and her father vanish out the front door.

***

Keith turns on the engine of his hoverbike and it hums to life. Shiro does the same to his own, which is situated right next to Keith’s. The pair of them sit on a ridge leading into a canyon. “Same route as always? With the knife-shaped rock as the finish line?” Keith asks. “Course.” Shiro replies, twisting his throttle experimentally. The engine purrs and Shiro grins. He makes as if to reach for the other handle, but his missing arm makes that impossible. He hesitates for a moment, but shakes his head. “You...sure you’re good for this?” Keith asks. “Course.” Shiro says nonchalantly. Keith nods after a moment and turns to face forward. “Ready when you are.” Shiro closes his eyes and takes a breath. He opens his eyes. “Now.” Both hoverbikes take off, kicking up a cloud of dust in their rocketing forward. Shiro takes the lead quickly, and Keith pushes his hoverbike to keep up as they race down the ridge. “Try to keep up!” Shiro calls back, gunning his engine. Keith smiles and pushes his hoverbike even harder. They shoot along the ridge, with Shiro maintaining the lead. They come to the spot where the canyon grows narrow, and Shiro goes for the spot where they cross over. Shiro goes full speed, leaping across the narrow gap. Keith, however does not follow. Instead he zooms past, further down the ledge where the gap grows wider again. There a sharp rock grows out of the of the ledge. Keith guns his engine and goes full speed towards the rock. His bike shoots up the rock, using it as a makeshift ramp, and he sails across the wide gap in the canyon. His hoverbike comes down on the other side, in front of Shiro’s bike. “Try to keep up, old timer!” Keith says, speeding ahead. Shiro laughs, gunning his own engine. The ridge opened back up onto the top of the canyon. Shiro uses the wider space to pull up next to Keith. Both race forward, neck and neck. The cliff is up ahead. A few dozen feet from the bottom is a sharp vaugly knife-shaped rock, marking the finish line. The both push their hoverbikes to the max, rocketing over the cliff. For a moment they fly over empty air. Then, gravity takes hold and both hurtle toward the ground. Keith and Shiro both keep their hands on the hoverbikes’ handles. The ground gets gut wrenchingly close. Both pull up at roughly the same time. Keith smoothly handles the landing, his hoverbike jetting back up just in time to avoid a crash. Shiro however, with only one arm has trouble fully pulling back on the throttle fully. As Keith shoots past the Knife-rock, Shiro’s bike dips a little too low and scraps against the ground. The hoverbike shakes but Shiro manages to regain control. Barely. He races past the knife-rock a moment later. Both pull their bikes to a stop a couple dozen feet farther. “You alright?” Keith asks. “I’m fine.” Shiro laughs half heartedly. “Just one more thing I’m not so good at anymore…” He looks distant for a moment, but then looks up and smiles. “Guess this means you can finally say you’re a better pilot than me, eh?” “Don’t say that.” Keith shakes his head. “If you had another arm you’d be riding circles around me.” “Maybe.” Shiro says uncertainty. For a moment they both only stare out at the rocky plains. Dust devils spin along the stony surface as a gust of wind picks up. “...you know we miss you out there, right?” Keith says eventually. “I know but...it's better if I stay here. I can do more on Earth than I can up there. Especially now that you’re in charge of Voltron again.” Shiro smiles reassuringly. Keith looks down. “...I don’t know what I’m doing up there, man. I’m trying it's just...hard. I’m no good at leading. I don’t have your talent as a leader Shiro. Even if you aren’t a part of Voltron anymore we could really use you up there. Focusing us. Helping...helping me figure out everything I’m doing wrong.” Shiro studies him. “Keith...you wanna hear a little secret?” “Huh? Uh...sure?” Shiro looks both ways as if someone might be listening, then leans in for good measure. “...I never had a talent for being a leader.” “What!?” Keith exclaims. “What are you talking about? You did an amazing job leading us in Voltron for an entire year. Basically everything fell apart when you disappeared. Even before Voltron, you were known to be a great team leader at the Garrison.” “Oh sure I got good. Eventually.” Shiro admits. “But you know I had my first command taken away from me? Kept expecting all my teammates to ‘keep up.’ By the end of my first week leading a fighter squadron, none of them could stand me. Sound familiar?” “....really?” Keith says with disbelief. “Really.” Shiro nods. “You can ask Sanda sometime. She was the Commander that had to deal with the delinquent kid that didn’t know how to follow orders.” “You? A delinquent?” “Didn’t you ever wonder what I saw in you when I first asked you to join the Garrison? Besides your natural flying skills, I mean. I saw a bit of my younger self in you. I knew that if a stubborn rule-breaker like me could become a model pilot, you could too.” “...huh.” is all Keith can say. He sits back on his bike, shaking his head. Shiro chuckles. “You know the only difference between you and me when it comes to being a leader Keith? Experience. It took me years to figure out the difference between leading others and just trying to order them around. And that’s something I think you’re already figuring out.” “More or less...maybe on the less side.” Keith shrugs. “Maybe. But you’re learning. And you’re going to keep learning. Because that's the only way you’ll get good at it. You don’t need me to tell you how to be the best leader you can be, because only you can figure that out. Everyone does it differently. It's up to you to figure out how you’re going to bring out the most in your team.” Keith doesn’t say anything, but after a moment he does give the slightest of nods. “...this doesn’t mean I’ve given up on you coming out there with us. When we figure out a way to end this, I expect you to be fighting right by our side, finishing off Zarkon and all his other cronies. ” Shiro only shrugs. “Dunno how much good I can do without another arm…” Keith frowns at the stump that once supported Shiro robot arm. He opens his mouth as if to say something, when his communicator squawks to life. “Guys we need to meet! Right now! I’ve got some good news finally!” Pidge’s voice says over the communicator. Keith pulls it off his belt and holds it up to his face. “Hang on Pidge, what's going on?” “Zarkon, Lotor, and this new Voltron! I think i figured out where they all came from!” Keith and Shiro share a look. “We’ll be right there.”

***

The Paladins, Shiro, and the other leaders of the Coalition all gather in a boardroom where Pidge and Slav stand in front of a chalkboard covered in mathematical equations and other writings. “Alright guys here’s what we got: Zarkon should be dead. We all saw him get killed by Lotor. It doesn't make any sense that they somehow faked his death. “Yes, I calculate a ninety nine, point-eight percent chance Zarkon really died that day!” Slav puts in. “And then there’s Lotor himself, who should be lost inside the Quintessence field, yet now is inexplicably free. On top of that there's this….other Voltron. Dark Voltron I guess.” Pidge continues. “Nah that seems like a mouthful.” Lance cuts in. “What about...Darktron? Yeah I like how that...sorry.” Pidge cuts off glaring at him to continue. “So this...Darktron-” Lance snickers. “-also came out of nowhere. As far as we know there was no other trans-dimensional comet with which another Voltron could be built besides the one Lotor used to make his Sincline mecha. None of these things add up. It can’t be an illusion, at least not Darktron. So what’s the explanation?” No one replies, so Pidge goes on. “The only explanation is that Zarkon really did die, Lotor really is still stuck in the quintessence field, and they never made a new Voltron.” “I...thought we ruled out an illusion.” Keith says confused. “We did.” Pidge smiles. “That because we really did fight Zarkon, Lotor and those other Dark Paladins in their own Voltron.” Everyone else in the room looks confused. Pidge smiles even wider. “...how is this possible, you might ask? Well-” “They’re from another reality!” Slav blurts out. “What!?” everyone exclaims. Pidge cringes. “I was building up to that.” “You were taking too long.” Slav replies. “Fair enough. But yeah, these guys must be from another reality remember the one we slipped into when we found that other comet.” “Oh yeah, you mean the one where Alteas went all evil and took over the universe?” Hunk recalls. “Yep. It's like that, but instead of alteans taking over, it's a reality where Zarkon never lost Voltron.” “I calculate an eighty-four point-five percent chance that this is the case.” Slav adds. “That must be why Lotor didn’t seem to recognize me…” Allura realizes. “That would explain that much, yeah.” Pidge agrees. “Wait, if they’re from another reality, then how’d they get here?” Lance asks. “Voltron is made of that same comet that brought us to the other reality. They must have figured out a way to use their Voltron to pass over to ours.” Pidge replies. Keith sits back, seeming to take this new information in. “This...certainly clears some things up...but does this really help us? Are we any closer to beating them, just because we know where they came from?” PIdge smiles at this. “I actually think so.” “Go on.” “Well as far as we can tell they came here alone. Think about it. First they were putting alteans from the colony in robests, and now they’re taking over whats left of the galra empire.” “So?” “So, if that Zarkon had the full force of Darktron at his command, shouldn't he have been able to take his entire universe? You’d figure he was coming here because he decided to take over another universe. But he didn’t bring an army through with him. It's just him his paladins, and Darktron.” “If that’s true then…” Keith consideres. “...then they probably didn’t come here by choice. They...probably had to. They might have been running from something in their old reality. Which means…” his eye widen. “...they were beaten. They aren’t invincible.” “My thoughts exactly.” Pidge smirks. Keith laughs. “You’re right Pidge. This is good news.”

***

Prince Lotor walks inside the corridors of the moon base. He accesses a door, that opens into a room where Zarkon and Honvera stand in front of a holographic display. It shows a diagram of a teleduv, along with several mathematical equations, and energy frequency readings. As soon as Lotor sees the display his eyes widen with shock. “What are you doing?” Zarkon turns around scowling. “Did I send for you boy?” “Is that...what I think it is?” Lotor says, ignoring his father’s comment, and staring at the display. “It's not of your concern.” Zarkon says, turning back around. “Mother is this really what I think it is!? Are you going to try it again!?” Lotor exclaims. Honerva doesn’t say anything for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “The first time...it was just too much power at once. But these alteans...they could make the difference. Splitting up the power among them, then back into Voltron...it may just work this time.” “You can’t be serious!” Lotor says with horror. His expression turns to anger. “You’re going to repeat the disaster that tore our universe to pieces!? And probably kill all those alteans in the process, if not this universe too? For what!? For pow-” Zarkon whirls around, grabbing Lotor by the neck, and forcing him against the wall so hard it shakes. “I don’t recall asking for your permission son of mine.” Zarkon says in a low voice. “I am in command here. I have waited over ten thousand years for this, and I will not tolerate resistance. Not even from you. Do I make myself clear?” Lotor stares at his father defiantly. Zarkon squeezes harder on his neck. “...crystal.” Lotor chokes out. “Good.” Zarkon drops Lotor to the floor, where he gasps for air. “Now get out of my sight. I have work to do.” Zarkon turns away. Lotor rubs his neck, and looks up at Zarkon with scorn. “Right away, father.” Honvera watches her son leave, concern written on her face. “Honverva. The calculations.” Zarkon urges. “Of course my love.” Honvera turns back, and they continue their work.

#voltron #voltron season 8 #season 8 #fix it fic #fixitific #plance #pigdance #keith #lance #pidge #hunk #allura #shiro #lotor

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mrsevans1328 · 6 years ago

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#10: “Are you upset with me?” //Shawn Mendes Fic

Request: @cave2687

Summary: Reader and Shawn have been having some issues lately. Shawn has been very distant with Reader. Will they make up and stay together? Or is this the beginning of the end for them?

**Note: Hey everyone, I’m sorry it took me so long to get this posted. I’ve been having a rough time lately, and honestly haven’t been in the mood to do pretty much anything. But I promised you guys I would get these written, so I’m trying to push through. Also, this story-line hits close to home for me, so it was really difficult to write certain parts of this. I hope you enjoy! Love you all xxx

Word count: 4,167

Prompt Masterlst

“I Want you close to me, I want you close, I want you closer.

But when you’re here with me, it’s hard to tell just what you’re after.

You say you want all of me today,

But tomorrow’s not the same. My feelings never change.

What do you want from me? What do you want, huh?

I need to know, if this is mutual,

Before I go, and get way too involved.

I want you bad, can you reciprocate?

No I don’t want to have to leave, but half of you is not enough for me.

This inconsistency, what does it mean? You have me questioning,

The way you act and take it back. Do I mean anything?

Just tell me honestly.

You say, you want all of me today,

But tomorrow’s not the same. My feelings never change.

What do you want from me? What do you want, huh?

I need to know, if this is mutual,

Before i go, and get way too involved.

I want you bad, can you reciprocate?

No I don’t want to have to leave, but half of you is not enough for me.

Are you playing me? Is this a game?

When you show up late, say love at 2 am.

Then you tell me you can’t stay. Oh, yeah

What do you want from me?

Baby, oh I need to know, if this is mutual,

Before I go, and get too involved.

I want you bad baby, can you reciprocate?

No I don’t want to have to leave, but half of you is not enough for me.”

The last chord fades in the room, your fingers still gripping the neck of your guitar while you wait nervously to hear y/bf/n’s reaction to the song you just wrote. As soon as you finished it, you called her and asked to sing it for her, knowing she will give you the honest truth.

“What’s it called, y/n?” she asks through the other line, you phone sitting next to the sheet music you have spread all over the bed in front of you.

You chew on the corner of your lip in thought, “I haven’t decided 100 percent yet, but I’m liking the name Mutual.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but this song is honestly one of the best you’ve written. I just hate that you are going through this in order to have the inspiration for it.” Y/bf/n says after a few minutes of silence.

You sigh, the thought of Shawn’s recent behavior causing you to have major anxiety. He’s been very distant with you. Coming home late, going right to sleep and leaving before you wake up in the morning. You try to talk to him, but he never seems to be interested in conversation, so you gave up trying. You’d spend many nights awake, unable to sleep, trying to figure out why he’s acting like this. Making yourself sick to your stomach with thoughts like “Maybe he doesn’t love me anymore, and doesn’t want to tell me”, or “Maybe he’s cheating on me, maybe he found someone better than me.” Even just thinking of the possibilities makes your eyes water and throat clog up.

The front door closing shut, breaking you from your little pity party. Shawn’s home early, ish. It’s almost midnight, but he normally hasn’t been getting home until around 2 am. Maybe even later.

Scrambling to clean up the scattered papers on the bed before Shawn reaches the bedroom, “Hey, he just got home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” Y/bf/n answers with a quick “Sure,” before you say bye and hang up.

You just manage to get the papers shoved under the bed and sit back on the bed with the guitar on your lap when the bedroom door opens, Shawn walking in. You try to act casual, like you have been sitting there just fiddling with your favorite guitar, a cherry red acoustic, plucking random chords.

“Still practicing?” It’s been forever since you’ve heard that raspy voice that when he asked you that question, you didn’t know how to react, shock coursing through you. When you and Shawn first met, you were a back-up dancer for Taylor Swift on her tour. You two hit it off pretty easily, being only a few months apart from each other in age. Shawn’s tour manager wanted Shawn to do more dancing in his opening performances for Taylor, but Shawn couldn’t dance to save his life. So you agreed to teach him to dance for his next tour, if he agreed to teach you how to play guitar. One thing led to another, and now you have been together for 2 years. Your anniversary is tomorrow, or rather today since it’s past midnight at this point.

Finally finding your voice, you manage to stutter out a reply of, “Oh.. uh, ye-yeah. Got n-nothing better to d-do.” Frowning at your own actions, you scold yourself for stuttering. You only stutter when you speak to people you aren’t comfortable around or don’t know that well, or when your anxiety is high. He’s your boyfriend, he shouldn’t feel like a stranger.

Peeking at Shawn, you notice his body stiffen at your stuttered words, taking mental note of the small crinkles between his brows before they vanish, as if they were never there to begin with. After a few moments, he continues to change clothes, acting like nothing just happened. It hurt to think that he didn’t care enough to ask what was wrong.

You feel the back of your eyes burn with tears, but before you can let them spill, you stand and put the guitar back on the rack hanging from the wall of the room. “H-How’s the album c-coming along?” You ask, trying to make small talk, the tension in the air suffocating you.

“Huh?” Shawn raises an eyebrow before realization hitting him, “Oh, the new album. Um, its fine.” Shawn’s sentences are choppy, cut short and dry. The lack of emotion in his voice causing your fragile heart to squeeze in your chest. You take that as your que to stop talking, his disinterest in the conversation obvious.

“I- uh, I’m gonna go watch a movie or something in the living room. That way I-I’m not bothering you while you sleep..” Your voice trails off at the end, not knowing what to do or say anymore. You see him sink onto the bed, giving you a small grunt in reply. As you’re walking out the door, you turn the light off for him and mumble under your breath, “Happy anniversary.” a single tear slipping down your cheek. You weren’t expecting him to reply, even if he could hear you, so you don’t bother to stick around waiting for one.

“Such a great start to what is supposed to be a happy day,” you think to yourself while you wrap your favorite blanket around yourself, silently crying yourself to sleep with y/f/m playing softly in the background.

~Shawn’s POV~

I woke up to my alarm at 5 am, a big day ahead of me. I sit up in bed and look over to see y/n’s side still made, no sign of her anywhere. I frown, wondering why she didn’t come to bed last night after her movie. Getting dressed quickly, i make my way to the living room, finding her curled up on the couch in her favorite blanket, the main menu of y/f/m rolling on repeat on the tv. She must have fallen asleep during the movie last night. Walking over to where she’s laying, I pick up the remove and turn the tv off before turning to y/n to carry her to bed where she will be more comfortable. As I pick her up in my arms bridal style, I notice her eyes are slightly puffy, and her cheeks look flushed. Upon further inspection of her face while I take her back upstairs to our room, I see the bags under her eyes and the smeared makeup. Was she crying? Is that why her makeup is smeared? From wiping under her eyes? That would explain her puffy eyes and slightly red cheeks. Why was she crying?

I set her down softly on her side of the bed, tucking her under the covers and sitting on the edge of the bed gently, careful not to wake her. Moving her hair from her face, I lean down to kiss her forehead. As I sit back up straight, I see a corner of a paper peeking out from under the bed. My curiosity getting the better of me, I bend down and pull the paper out fully to see it’s not just paper, it’s sheet music. Skimming over the music written in y/n’s easily identifiable handwriting, it seems to be only part of a piece. Kneeling down next to the bed, my hand reaches into the dark space, searching for more sheets. I pull out everything I can find and lean my back against the side of the bed, checking to make sure y/n is still asleep before shuffling the papers around on the floor in front of me like pieces to a puzzle, trying to put the unnumbered pages in the correct order according to the lyrics.

Once I have them all in, what I’m assuming is the correct order, my heart breaks while reading through it. Did she really feel this way? Is that why she was crying last night? Because she thought I didn’t love her anymore? My stomach sank and the thought of her crying herself to sleep over me. How could I not have noticed? How long has she felt like this? So many thoughts were running through my mind at once, causing my head and heart to ache at the same time. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed, I’ve been so busy the last month trying to get things prepared for today that I’ve made her feel unloved.

With a new determination fueling me, I jump to my feet after putting the sheet music back where I found it. Leaning down to kiss y/n’s forehead one more time, I whisper to her sleeping form. “I’m so sorry babygirl. I’m going to make this up to you, I promise.”

Checking my phone, I mentally curse at myself for losing track of time. I have 15 minutes to get to the dance studio on the other side of town. I rush out the door as quietly as I can, dialing y/bf/n as I pull out of the driveway, hearing her pick up on the third ring.

“Hey, meet me at the dance studio.”

~Y/N’s POV~

You wake up around 8:30 am, your eyes dry and head pounding from crying yourself to sleep. Rolling over, you notice you aren’t on the couch anymore, but in bed with your blanket still wrapped around you. Confused as to how you got here, you sit up. Shrugging, you figured you got up last night to come to bed and don’t remember. You trudge downstairs to take something for your headache and eat something. Popping a bagel in the toaster and pulling out the cream cheese, you hear your phone ringing from the coffee table in the living room. You race over to pick it up before the calls ends, the blanket around your neck flapping behind you like a cape.

“Hello?” Forgetting to check the caller ID in your rush to answer the phone, you had no clue who was calling you this early in the morning.

You hear the unforgettable voice of your best friend on the other line. “Hey, Alex wants to run over the choreography for the music video today. She wants everyone at the studio by 5 for warm ups. She has a few meetings today, which is why it’s so late. I was thinking I could come over at around 12:30, we can go grab lunch, then go shopping to kill time?” Y/bf/n says cheerfully. She has always been more of a morning person than you.

“I don’t know, Y/bf/n. I’m not really feeling like doing anything today. I’ll be at rehearsal, but im not feeling up to shopping.” You chew on your lip, another anxious habit of yours.

“Please, Y/n. We haven’t hung out in a while, I miss you. Plus, shopping will help you feel better. It’s practically therapeutic.” She all but begs, and you can even hear the pout in her voice, knowing she’s giving you the puppy eyes.

You sigh, feeling your resolve slowly fade. That’s all she needs, knowing she’s won and cheering by herself. “I’ll be over in a few hours. Don’t forget to pack your dance bag.” Saying your goodbyes, you hang up and go back to making your breakfast.

~Skip to 12:30~

You hear a car honk twice outside, your signal that y/bf/n is here to pick you up. Grabbing your dance bag, keys, and phone, you walk out the front door, making sure it’s locked behind you before climbing into y/bf/n’s car.

She leans over and gives you a hug, then lets you buckle up as she pulls out and heads towards town. “Have you heard anything from Shawn today?”

You roll your eyes, even on your anniversary, he still acts as if you don’t exist. “He was gone when i woke up this morning, like normal. Haven’t even gotten a text.” The mention of him forgetting your anniversary instantly puts you in a bad mood. “Can we not talk about him while we are out, please? This is supposed to be helping me cheer up, not reminding me why I’m upset to begin with.”

Y/bf/n glances at you out of the corner of her eyes, focusing on the road. “Sure, where do you want to eat?” Already heading towards your favorite fast food place.

“As if you have to ask.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Pulling out of Chick-Fil-A drive through, you have the biggest smile on your face. You love their spicy chicken sandwiches. Who would have thought to put pickles on a chicken sandwich? Only Chick-Fil-A. As y/bf/n drives in the direction of the mall, you dig out her sandwich and fries for her so she can eat and drive at the same time. Digging into your own food, you practically moan as the deliciousness melts in your mouth.

Once the car is parked in the mall parking lot, you two finish up your food before heading inside, throwing your trash out on your way in.

“Where to first?” You ask, stopping in front of the map of the mall they have posted at every entrance. Looking to y/bf/n, you see her grin evilly and instantly get nervous. “Oh no.” You barely make out before you are dragged into the first store you see.

~Skip to 3:45 pm~

“Are we almost done? The studio is on the other side of town and I’d like to have time to stretch before warm ups.” You whine at y/bf/n, tired of shopping already. It’s never been one of your favorite things to do, but you agreed to it because y/bf/n knows how to manipulate you, in a best friend sort of way.

“Just one more store, then we can leave.” She says, pulling you into one last store. This shop had a lot of really nice dresses, shoes, tops, skirts, accessories, etc. Basically anything you need for a formal/semi-formal event, this place will have it. Y/bf/n absolutely loves this place, and even though you aren’t exactly a big fan of shopping, even you had to admit they have a lot of nice dresses.

Deciding you might as well kill time while you wait for y/bf/n to finish her escapade, you walk around, checking out dresses and shoes. Fingering through a rack of cocktail dresses, you come across this black strapless dress. It had a heart shape bust with a lace overlay. A thin silver belt separated the bust from the skirt. The skirt had multiple layers of thin black tool that gave it some volume, the very bottom layer being soft silk against your skin so the tool doesn’t scratch and irritate you.

All in all, the dress is stunning, so you pull it from the rack and run off to find y/bf/n to show her. Finding her by the shoes, as if she can sense you coming, she turns around and sees you holding up the dress, proud of your find.

“OMG, that is gorgeous! You have to try that on!!” You and y/bf/n gush over the dress while you scour the shelves to find shoes to go with it. She manages to find the perfect pair of silver sparkly heels, and you two dash off to the dressing rooms.

As soon as you put the dress on, you fall even more in love with the dress. You walk out to show y/bf/n and her eyes practically fall out of her head. “You are getting it, I don’t care how much it costs.”

“I don’t even have any reason to buy it, it’s not like i’ll be going out on a hot date any time soon.” You remind her, getting upset again.

“You are buying the dress, even if I have to take you on a date myself! Now go change so we can pay and get out of here.” With a playful eye roll, you turn back to the changing rooms and put your other clothes on before heading to check out and leaving.

By the time y/bf/n pulls up to the studio, its 4:30. Both of you jump out of the car and rush inside to get dressed and stretched out before 5. When you walk in, everyone else is already there and either chatting or stretching. You say your hellos and walk into the locker room, changing into your dance clothes, not having to worry about your hair since you put it into two french braids after your shower this morning.

Leaving your bags in your normal lockers, you and y/bf/n walk out to the main studio and start stretching, chatting with some of the other dancers. At 10 minutes before 5, you guys all start running through warm ups. Doing pieces of old routines to get your muscles moving and loose. After a few warm ups, someone suggested running through the routine for the music video before Alex gets there, most likely running late in her last meeting seeing as it was almost 5:15 and she still wasn’t there yet. You all get into your starting positions, waiting for the music to start. Once the music does start, you notice its the wrong song.

You recognize the song as Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur (A/N: if you click this link, it should take you to a YouTube video that shows the choreography that I’m referencing. if the link doesn't work. then open YouTube and search “Say You Won't Let Go (Dance Video) - James Arthur | @ besperon Choreography”.) and look around confused. When the other dancers start moving, you instantly notice the choreography, it’s your choreography that you used in your audition for Taylor Swift’s Tour, the one you met Shawn on. Speaking of Shawn, he walks out of the men’s locker room, a headset mic taped to his face, and he’s singing the lyrics while moving to stand with you in the middle of the studio floor, the rest of the dancers moving around you two in time to the song.

By the time he got to the second verse, you had tears in your eyes. He stopped singing, but his voice still filled the room, probably a recording. “Dance with me?” Shawn asked, a smile on his face as the rest of the dancers moved to the walls of the room. ( A/N: She starts dancing with Shawn at the 1:30 mark of the video until the end)

Your body moves on it’s own, the choreography committed to memory from the multiple months you worked on this piece and practiced, you’d probably be able to dance this piece in your sleep. After the choreography was done, Shawn continued to sing the rest of the song, holding you close, both of you with tears in your eyes.

As the song slowly fades, everyone else in the room starts to cheer. “I’m so so so sorry for how I’ve been acting. I wasn’t meaning to make you feel abandoned or unloved. The truth is I love you more than life itself. My absence this last month and a half was because of this. I spent extra hours in the studio, recording my own music, but also working on this song. I would get up at 4 am every day so i could come here and learn the choreography. We both know I’m not the world’s best dancer, which means every chance I got, I was running over the work. I was so focused on making sure this was perfect for today, I guess I neglected the woman this was all for. And I am so sorry, baby.” Shawn was full on crying by the end of his small rant, his hands on your waist. Your heart was swelling, he didn’t forget your anniversary. He put so much effort into making sure today was as special as possible. He learned the choreography to your audition, the audition that landed you a spot on Taylor’s tour. The tour where you two met.

Because of your mental tyrade, you forgot to say anything, tears falling freely down your cheeks. But for the first time in a long time, they were out of happiness, not pain.

Shawn wiped your cheek, the simple motion pulling you from your own thoughts, his own chocolate eyes watching you closely, “Are you upset with me?”

Unable to speak, you pulled him into a deep loving kiss by the back of his neck. When the kiss was finally broke, Shawn had a soft smile on his face, relieved you weren’t mad at him for his behavior.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small red box. “I know I’ve been a crappy boyfriend to you lately. And I don’t deserve for you to forgive me so easily. But if you allow me, I promise to show you what love feels like. I promise to cherish every moment with you. I promise to never take you for granted. And I promise to one day make you my wife. But only if you promise to do the same. So, what do you say?”

Shawn opens the small box to display the most beautiful promise ring. A thin silver band holding a delicate treble clef, and in the corner a small diamond stone. In complete awe, your y/e/c eyes flick between the man standing before you and the beautiful ring in his hand.

The biggest smile plastered itself to your face and the words, “I promise,” fell from your lips. Shawns lips instantly found yours in a kiss filled with love and passion. He slips the ring on your hand and the room erupts into cheers once more.

“One more, surprise, we are going out for dinner to celebrate not only our anniversary, but also this wonderful moment,” Shawn explains, placing a small kiss to the top of your hand.

“Shawn, I don't have anything to wear. All I have is my dance clothes that smell like body odor now and the clothes i wore here.” You explain just as you see y/bf/n walk into the room, holding your dress and shoes you bought at the mall. “Oh, I hate you both,” You say playfully, giving Shawn one last kiss before running off to the locker rooms with y/bf/n to get ready, suddenly thankful you put your hair in braids earlier so it will be wavey when you undo them. Y/bf/n helps you get ready, making small talk while she does your makeup that she brought with her and explaining that she recorded the whole thing for you. You ask her to send it to you and she agrees. Once you’re fully dressed and ready to go, y/bf/n gives you a hug, and you walk out to see Shawn in a simple tux.

His jaw drops when he sees you. “You look gorgeous, y/n. Ready to go?” He kisses your cheek softly and takes your hand in his, leading you out the door and to his car that you just realized was only a few parking spots away from where you and y/bf/n parked.

“Oh, and by the way, Happy Anniversary baby.” Shawn kisses you one more time, a soft and sweet gesture before opening your door.

~~THE END~~

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