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redorich · 3 years

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Hello! Can we get a little something for the hermit canyon AU? I was thinking something Karl centered, maybe they accidentally find his library or otherwise find out about his "travels". They're probably invisible for the whole thing, but do they do anything afterwards? Do they leave little notes and reminders? Would they try to help at all? Or would they push it to the back of their minds and try to forget about it?

Unlike most discoveries made by Hermits, Joe does not find a secret location on a normal surface run. When Etho found the Pogtopia ravine, it was a mystery to him, unsettling and vivid. When Grian found Technoblade's snowy cabin, it was on complete accident, just because Grian needed to explore, to get out of the canyon for a few hours.

When Joe exits the canyon, as he rarely does, he makes a beeline for Karl's library. Time is... not something Joe concerns himself with, but he prefers to constrict himself to the linear travel of the fourth dimension nowadays-- if such a thing as "nowadays" can be said to exist when tangling with time.

Where was he? Ah, yes. He moves quickly, because he dislikes spending more time away from Xisuma's side than absolutely necessary, even if the admin has been having a run of good health days and there are twenty-two other Hermits to attend to the admin in an emergency. He doesn't bother with invisibility, or walking, or other mundane things. Joe simply hovers in the air, flying toward his destination and perhaps fiddling with the tick speed just a little, just enough to get him there faster.

There's a residual feeling of familiarity, like a relationship with an ex-girlfriend which has long since turned sour, near the canyon. There's a whisper there of magic, of gleaming white spires, but all Joe can see is red.

"It's a shame, what they did to this library," Joe mutters with a tsk. Posters of hazy LSD-esque drawings of various time periods and locations line the walls, molding away as red vines climb on them, devour them.

He shrugs. Might as well move on; nothing of value remains here.

To the south is a place Etho has visited only briefly and in passing: Kinoko Kingdom. It's a hotspot of activity at times, and a ghost town at others. Etho didn't even know the name of the place until Puffy reported it. Joe doesn't care. For all that Etho likes to present himself as a cryptid, scaring poor innocent wood-dwelling folk who are just looking for a big fuzzy triclopean spouse, Joe is the one with experience as a cryptid. Let them see him. What are they going to say, "I saw Herobrine"?

He touches down, finally, in front of another library made from mushrooms and wood. Allowing his eyes to flash white for a moment so that he can ferret out the building's secret room, he is both disappointed and unsurprised to see it empty of life. Karl Jacobs, resident time traveller, is not there.

Joe closes his eyes. He doesn't want to have to do this. For decades, there was a place he called home, a place he built from the ground up. It was a place in between life and death, and so he called it the Inbetween.

He opens his eyes, and he is there. It's like walking down a street you've been down a hundred thousand times before; even with your eyes closed, you know where you're going. There are no longer dozens of imperfect copies of himself running around, brainless and waiting to be culled like lambs to the slaughter in order to fuel an affront against nature. Now, there are many iterations of Karl, all wandering aimlessly... save one.

The only version of Karl wearing color stands in an open-air corridor near the courtyard. Even from a distance, Joe can see his chest rise and fall far too rapidly for him to actually be getting any air. (Joe sees everything here, where his eyes are white and cannot be anything but white.)

"Why am I here?" Karl babbles to himself. "I haven't time-travelled-- or did I already forget?"

"You didn't forget," Joe reassures him. It does not have the intended effect.

Karl screams, turning around so quickly that he falls on his ass. He scoots away like a crab missing a leg, scrambling for some distance. "Your eyes--!"

"Come closer," Joe says. "I won't hurt you."

"You're Herobrine!"

Joe exhales slowly. "I was Herobrine. What I am is the only person who can help you."

Karl warily clambers to his feet. None of the other Karls dressed in white pay the two men any mind. "What do you mean?"

"You've got yourself stuck in a dimensional loop of Homestuck proportions, Karl," Joe says. "So did I, when I built this place. It took me decades to figure out how to get out of it, and I knew what I was doing. You don't have that."

"Am I stuck here forever, then?" Karl says mournfully. He waves a hand at the carefree automatons wearing his face. "Will I become one of them?"

Joe takes a few slow steps closer, keeping his hands where the stressed-out time traveller can see them. "I'll take care of things on this end. You won't ever have to come back here again."

Karl sags in relief like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Does the name Eret mean anything to you?" Joe asks. It's a name he's heard from Puffy's lips once or twice, and if her information holds true, things could get much easier.

Karl blinks. "Uh... Yeah? What about them?"

Joe continues. "Dark hair, tall, white eyes like mine?"

"I've never seen Eret without their sunglasses, but I guess, yeah," Karl replies. Of all the things he would have expected Herobrine to ask about, Eret isn't one of them.

"Imagine what Eret looks like," Joe suggests. "Think real hard about them. Imagine them here, in the Inbetween, right in front of us."

Karl has no idea why Herobrine wants him to daydream about Eret (even if their voice is very nice), but if the man is pulling his leg, well-- it's fucking Herobrine, he can do what he wants.

Speaking of that nice voice, Karl hears the voice in question scream out of nowhere. Karl flinches away from the sudden loud noise, before his eyes catch up to his brain and he realizes that he just magicked Eret into existence in the Inbetween.

"What the fuck," Eret says. "H-Herobrine, uh, long time no s-see..?"

"Sorry about that time I kinda tortured you," Herobrine says brightly. "I'm nicer now."

"I doubt--" Eret begins caustically, then remembers exactly who they're talking to and shuts their mouth. "...Why is everything so dark?"

"Take off your sunglasses," Herobrine suggests.

Eret grimaces, but obeys. This place is practically humming with magic, so they just know they're going to get blinded by it the moment they remove their glasses, but they remember what happened last time they pissed Herobrine off.

Wincing, they remove the sunglasses, expecting pain and receiving... nothing. The glint of light on quartz is a bit uncomfortable, but that's a normal human uncomfortable that Eret hasn't experienced since they were a teenager.

Herobrine smacks them on the forehead with his palm. "I take back what I said about 'living with this power for the rest of your life', and all that," he says. "You can turn 'em off now. I'd recommend not turning those eyes back on, though-- at least, not here. It's a little bright, magic-wise."

Eret gapes. All these years, they feared the day they'd meet this powerful man again, imagined what they'd say as they cursed his name or begged his forgiveness... and here he is, giving them exactly what they desperately hoped for but knew they'd never receive simply because he's 'nicer now'.

"Herobrine," Eret says, "why have you done this?"

"Call me Joe," Herobrine says.

Karl interjects, "Joe mama," under his breath. It is with the utmost shock on Eret's behalf that Karl does not in fact get immediately smited into oblivion, merely smacked on the forehead.

"Now you won't forget," Herobrine-- Joe says. "Anyway, I have shenanigans to be up to back in the canyon, so I'll send y'all back now. Those red vines are bad news, and so is their egg, so y'all better take care of that, please. It's really messing your server up."

Karl blanches. "The canyon?"

"Oh, look at the time. Have fun, be safe, bye," Joe says with affected mild disinterest.

Both Karl and Eret have so much to say, so many questions to ask, but they fade away before they get the chance.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #karl jacobs #eret #joe hills #herobrine #me.cpp

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perspective-series · 4 years

Text

Kingdom Perspective (5)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, and unwanted touching/grabbing

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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Roman took his hand back with a grin. “Great! Now, we need to prepare for the dinner tonight. Which means we need to get you some nicer clothes.” He hummed for a moment as he walked over to the lower drawer of his dresser. He kneeled down and opened it, revealing to him an abundance of human clothing he had issued for over the months.

Ever since Logan had gotten his human and he had been begging for one of his own, he had asked the tailors to make him some human-sized clothes as well. Just to be prepared for when he did get his own. And now he could finally use them!

“Virgil, what’s your favorite color?” He asked as he shifted through all the outfits.

Virgil was surprised he was even asked. “Black.”

Roman rolled his eyes. He should have expected that answer, seeing what he had already been wearing when they met. He looked Virgil over and shifted through the clothes. He was trying to look for something mostly black but with just a splash of color. He didn’t want his human to be entirely dreary.

Roman grinned when he came upon a black button-up jacket, black slacks, and a dark purple undershirt. Perfect. He grabbed a tiny pair of black dress shoes as well and stood up, closing the drawer with his foot. He walked back over to the desk, setting the clothes down on the table for Virgil to look at and take. “Here we go!”

“Where did you get those?” Virgil frowned, noticing the ensemble seemed much more human than the medieval world around them.

“Well, sometimes our tailors make the clothes, other times we get them from your world. These ones happen to be from your world.” He had a nice mixed collection in his drawer. “Do you like it?”

“Wait, you stole these?” Virgil climbed out of the cage to come over and inspect the garments.

Roman furrowed his eyebrows at Virgil’s accusation. “Well…” He supposed a human would see it like that. “We didn’t take them from any humans. Our sorcerer takes them from some shops he’s found in the human world.” That’s what he had heard, anyway. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I’m gonna worry about it anyway.” Virgil raised the shirt, looking at it in slight disgust. “That’s still wrong. And humans own those shops, so really you are taking from humans.”

Roman pouted. “Well, blame Logan for that then! He was the one who said his human preferred to wear clothes from the human world.”

“It seems I should blame Logan for a lot of things.” Virgil muttered, liking Roman’s brother less and less. Of course, it was a fair observation clothing-wise. Virgil had hardly been wearing these giant-made clothes a day and it was driving him crazy.

“Yes.” Roman agreed, wanting as much blame to stay away from him as possible. “Now, go ahead and get dressed. I’ll be right back.” Roman grabbed some clothes from his dresser and headed into his adjacent changing room.

Virgil was quick to change into the clothes, not wanting Roman to come back while he was in the middle of dressing. It was admittedly nice to be back in ‘real’ clothes, even if they weren’t his. Of course, it was clear to anyone that these clothes were not his own. The pants were alright but the shirt sleeves billowed past his wrists. The jacket had the opposite problem where his arms barely fit and the buttons wouldn’t close. Huffing about looking like an idiot, Virgil discarded the jacket entirely and stubbornly put his hoodie back on.

Roman came back out, dressed in some formal casual clothes. A black pair of pants with a white top and red jacket. He walked over to Virgil but frowned when he saw the jacket discarded off to the side and Virgil wearing his hoodie. He sighed. “Virgil, that isn’t going to work.”

“Well, the stupid jacket doesn’t fit anyway.” Virgil gave it a kick for good measure.

“It didn’t?” Roman picked up the jacket and looked it over. “Hmm, well, we’ll have to get it tailored later on then. I might have another jacket that’s more your size though.” Roman went back over to the drawer and looked through it once more after putting the other jacket back. He came across a similar looking jacket, also from the human world, though this one was a light grey and had no buttons. Roman stood and brought it to Virgil. “I know it’s not black, but this one might actually fit you.” He held it out to him.

“That’s not gonna fit me.” Virgil argued, knowing just from looking at it that it would be as ill-fitting as the dress shirt.

Roman frowned. “Just try it on. You can’t wear that hoodie tonight.” If Virgil showed up in that, he’s not actually sure what his father would say. But it wouldn’t be good. He set the jacket down in front of Virgil.

“Well why not?” Virgil stubbornly didn’t acknowledge the jacket before him, instead keeping his gaze on Roman.

“This is a formal event. And that hoodie doesn’t exactly scream formal.” Roman explained, lifting an eyebrow.

“This is about as formal as I get.” Virgil informed him. Indeed, it was rare Virgil ever wore a pair of dress pants this nice. Of course, it was also rare Virgil went to any event that could be considered ‘formal’. “I keep the hoodie.”

Roman groaned but what could he do about it? He didn’t want to do something that might make Virgil hate him more. He took the jacket again and looked at it and Virgil. “Fine but at least…” he trailed off as he placed the jacket over Virgil’s shoulders. “There. Does that work?”

Virgil inspected his outfit, trying to gauge what he looked like without a mirror. “Y’know I think that just made it worse.”

Roman looked him over and winced. “Okay, yeah, no jacket.” He grabbed it off of Virgil. “Fine. I suppose it’s just the hoodie then.” Hopefully his father wouldn’t say anything.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to get used to the fact I’m a fashion icon.” Virgil teased, knowing that his fashion sense was equivalent to a flaming dumpster fire. Virgil just preferred clothes that were comfortable, dark, and kept him covered. If they could make him disappear in social settings that was a bonus.

“Okay. Clothes are out of the way and we still have a little time before the dinner.” Roman said as he sat down at his desk. “Time to go over what you can expect from the dinner.”

“...great.” Virgil’s tone was sarcastic. He began fidgeting with his sleeve, already anxious as he began to think of the reality of it all. “Let me guess, there’s like a million etiquette rules I need to know?”

Roman smiled a little. “For me? Yes. But you don’t have to worry about nearly as much.” Roman chuckled slightly before it fell into a sigh. “No, just...you’ll be expected to stay by me the entire time. And you aren’t allowed to speak unless you are spoken to.” Roman started.

“Well it’s not like I’ll know anybody else there.” Virgil pointed out. Or that there would be anywhere for him to go. Virgil could’ve guessed the no speaking rule, but for his own sanity he pretended that was because he wasn’t royalty and not due to the fact he was human. “How...how many people will be there, anyways?”

“Not...too many.” Roman bit his lip. “It’s a special dinner, so only nobility will be there. My father and brother and his human will be there. And I’m sure there will be several lords and ladies and dukes and whatnot from our kingdom…” Roman trailed off.

“I’d say about thirty people at the most.” He answered finally.

“Thirty.” Virgil’s voicebox squeaked as he repeated the number, a hand coming up to grip his hair. “Heh, great.” Even the mention of another human being present wasn’t exactly good news. It wasn’t as though Virgil could talk to them anyways, and it would likely just depress Virgil even further to see someone else trapped here. Still, at least he wasn’t the only one, so maybe he’d get slightly less stares?

“It-It shouldn’t be too bad.” Roman tried to comfort Virgil. “But there is...something else.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck.

“What is it?” Virgil narrowed his eyes, not liking the way Roman hesitated.

“Okay...so...There’s going to be a part of the dinner where they expect Logan and now me, to show off what our humans can...do.” Roman said lamely. “Which means...you will have to listen to me and do a few, uh, commands like before.”

“Oh, hell no.” Virgil shook his head.

“Look, I know but you have to. If you don’t, my father will get angry and trust me, none of us want that.” He shivered just thinking about it.

“Can’t you just say I’m “not trained yet” or something?” Virgil insisted, gritting his teeth even as he said it.

Roman shook his head. “My father doesn’t understand how all this works, much like I did before I spoke with Logan. You won’t have to do a lot though, definitely not as much as Logan’s human. You’ll probably just have to do the basic commands I already taught you.”

“That’s a lot of ‘probably’s and ‘maybe’s and uncertainties there, Roman.” Virgil pointed out, feeling his panic rising. What, now not only would he have to deal with good old social anxiety, as well as the natural fear of a room full of giants, but now he was facing performance anxiety as well?!

“I don’t want to do it, Roman.” Virgil pressed on. “It’s demeaning and stressful and frankly I’d probably freeze up on the spot anyways. You better think of a good excuse for your dad because I’m not doing it.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “But you said you would behave! We even shook on it! Please, Virgil. I’d rather you not do this either but you have to I-” He was cut off by a knock at the door.

“Prince Roman? Your presence is required for the dinner.” A servant spoke through the door. Roman groaned.

“Tell them I am on my way!” He called back out. He heard the servant leave and he looked down at Virgil with slight guilt and pity. “Sorry Virgil but this is happening. It’ll be okay though, I promise.” Roman stood and scooped Virgil into his hands.

Virgil struggled briefly at first, but as soon as he got a glance at the distance to the floor he changed tactics. Virgil gripped onto Roman’s finger, terrified of a fall.

“Don’t you dare drop me.” Virgil warned, although his threat might have held more weight if he wasn’t white as a sheet.

“I won’t.” Roman reassured him before heading out towards the dining hall. He walked a bit slower for Virgil’s sake and made it to the dining area with half the guests still standing and chatting. His father came up to greet him.

“You’re late.” He briefly glanced down at Virgil in Roman’s hands before going back to Roman.

Roman put on a smile. “Yes, sorry father. Lost track of time.” The king hummed but turned away from him and towards his guests.

“Everyone! May I present Prince Roman and his human, our reason for celebrating tonight!” A polite clapping echoes across the hall.

Virgil trembled, feeling overwhelmed already. A few dozen giant eyes peered at him across the room, making him feel especially small. He wanted nothing more than to curl further into his hoodie and die. Of course, the eyes were only the first overwhelming thing about this place. The lights were too bright, the smells were too strong, and everyone was so loud that if Virgil wasn’t so afraid of falling he would have dropped Roman’s finger in favor of covering his ears.

Roman curled his hand a little tighter in comfort around Virgil as he felt him shake before nodding to the guests and sitting across from Logan-who of course was there, probably had gotten there early too-and to the left of his father. As the guests were taking their seats, Roman turned to Logan. “Hey Logan.” He carefully set Virgil down on the table as he greeted his brother.

Virgil felt the table beneath him trembling as various Giant nobles took their seats. He looked up in front of him to finally put a face to Logan’s name. Virgil shuddered, finding the Giant’s calculating gaze already upon him.

“Hello Roman.” Logan returned his brother’s greeting, not attempting to hide his curiosity.

Looking back at the table, Virgil’s eyes widened when he saw a tiny- well, not tiny he reminded himself, just normal sized- figure sat near Logan’s hand. It was another human being! And yet, despite all of this craziness, they seemed almost...calm. Was he okay? Almost subconsciously Virgil began to walk towards him, drawn to the only familiar thing in this mess up scenario.

Patton couldn’t help but openly stare at the other human. It had been so long since he saw someone his size. It almost seemed unreal to him. And then his eyes widened when Virgil started walking.

Roman’s eyes widened as well and he was quick to put his hand in front of Virgil and scoot him back towards him. He looked around to make sure no one saw anything, thankfully, everyone was still getting settled.

Patton winced but knew it was for the best that Roman had done that.

Logan raised an eyebrow at the human’s behavior, realizing that this event might be a bigger disaster than he originally thought.

Thankfully Virgil snapped out of his trance the moment he was touched. He wanted to send a glare back at Roman but knew that it would be in his best interest to listen to all those rules Roman had mentioned.

Despite this, Virgil couldn’t stop gazing across the table at the human curiously, noticing the human was staring right back. Who was he? What was his story? Virgil realized now that he had never even heard his name. Oh jeez, he did still have a name, right?

Patton smiled a bit and waved at the other human when he noticed he was looking at him again. He looked to be doing alright...well, physically anyway. He looked absolutely terrified though. Patton couldn’t blame him.

The king took his seat as everyone settled down to look at him. “Thank you all for coming to this, I’ll admit, bit of a last minute dinner.” Some guests chuckled. “But I can assure you, the food is as good as ever. Now, let us eat!” As if on cue, a wave of servants came out with dishes upon dishes of hot food. Placing it in front of everyone.

Roman nodded to the servant in thanks but he was distracted by Virgil. Remembering that he had forgotten to tell him he would have to eat off of Roman’s plate. Hopefully he’s figured it out.

Patton already knew what to do, of course, and came over to sit between the plate and Logan and waited for the giant to push his serving to him.

Logan did so, portioning out the meat and vegetables accordingly so that Patton got enough and it was easily manageable.

Virgil watched this exchange, eyes widening in realization. Oh, hell no. Virgil turned back to Roman, already shaking his head. He’d rather go hungry for the night, and honestly with all the sounds of chatter and eating around him he didn’t think he could stomach much anyways. This whole scenario made him a bit queasy.

Patton dug into his portion, still watching the other human. He watched as the gears in his head turned and then he turned away from the plate of food. Oh...Patton sighed, remembering the feelings of his first dinner well. Though, at least this human didn’t have to deal with all that grabbing. He shivered at the memories, taking another bite of food.

Roman was portioning out food for Virgil when he noticed Virgil’s behavior. He bit his lip and snuck a glance at his father, who was thankfully busy eating. He scooted Virgil to sit between him and the plate, like Logan’s human was and then leaned down to whisper to Virgil. “Look, you don’t have to eat anything right now but just, like, pretend or something. Please.”

Every muscle in Virgil’s body was tense from being moved and the new proximity he had to Roman, but it was with no small amount of surprise that Roman’s words registered in his brain. If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d say Roman was being almost respectful.

“...fine.” Virgil agreed in a hushed tone, reaching out for a small bit of what looked kind of like a carrot. He nibbled on it cautiously, finding it acceptable.

Logan cleared his throat, wanting to keep attention away from Roman for the time being. “So, father, I overheard our neighbors to the East will be meeting next week to discuss the revised alliance.”

The king nodded, barely looking at his son. “Yes, they are. It should be a relatively simple engagement though.” The king took a drink from his cup before turning to Roman. “So, Roman. How have things been going with your human?”

Roman’s eyes widened but he quickly put on a smile. “Oh, things have been going splendidly. But of course, what did you expect.” Roman fake chuckled.

The king raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you have a few things to show off to all of us today?” The king asked and Roman’s smile became a little more strained.

“Absolutely.”

Virgil gave Roman’s arm a subtle smack.

Roman ignored it as his father nodded at him and turned back to his food. Roman let out a small sigh and leaned down again. “I’m sorry, I panicked!” He whispered. Though, he couldn’t have just said ‘no’ either.

“And what exactly do you think I’m doing?” Virgil hissed, beginning to panic himself. “Think of something because I’m not gonna be showing anything off.”

Roman mentally groaned and stuck another forkful of food into his mouth. This could only end badly.

They all continued to eat as the chatter drifted from different ends of the table. It wasn’t long before everyone had finished eating and the king cleared his throat. The chatter died down and everyone turned to the king. “Alright everyone, time for our formal dinner tradition. Roman? If you would.”

Roman gulped and quickly tried to think of something. “Uhh, shouldn’t Logan go first? You know, save the best for last and all that.” Roman chuckled nervously. The king stared at him for a moment before turning to Logan.

“Alright then. Logan?”

“As you wish.” Logan sighed, pushing back from the table. He walked down the length, past the various overdressed and over eager royals to stand at the opposite end of the table, facing his father. Once there he tapped the tabletop right in front of him.

Patton stood up and quickly made his way over to Logan. Though the table was very long and it still took him a few minutes despite fast walking. When he made it to Logan, he stopped and looked up at him to await the next thing. He was used to this whole ‘performance’ thing, after having to do it for months.

Logan gave him a small smile, purposefully oblivious to the various looks and comments that the crowd gave Patton. He had never enjoyed this particular ritual, although he was never a fan of any meaningless form of entertainment.

Of course, now Logan was faced with a difficult choice. He glanced back to where his brother sat. There were a number of simple enough tasks that Patton was able to accomplish that would amaze the stupid onlookers regardless. Therefore, should Logan demonstrate all of Patton’s skills, in order to go above and beyond and allow Roman’s performance to be lackluster? Or, should Logan keep his routine simple and keep the bar relatively low for the new human?

Then again, it seemed every task Logan thought of would be strenuous on the poor human. Logan sighed, knowing he could only do so much to ease the process along. After all, father still wished to be entertained, and Logan didn’t wish for Patton to be harmed either.

“Excellent work.” Logan finally praised, sticking his hand out for a shake.

Patton waited no time in sticking his own hand out, letting it grab onto one of Logan’s fingers.

Logan shook it gently, then turned Patton back towards the crowd.

“Would you like to say hello?” He asked, turning the command into more of a polite question.

Honestly, no, Patton didn’t. But he put on a smile anyway. “Hi everyone!” He said, waving. Roman couldn’t help but smile at how cute Logan’s human was.

“Don’t forget your manners.” Logan said, giving him the cue to bow.

Patton faltered slightly, not believing he had almost forgotten but he kept his smile on and bowed like he had been taught to.

“Aww!” The chorus of obnoxious cooing made Logan aware that this had done its job. Satisfied, Logan put his palm down on the table.

Patton climbed on, once again with no hesitation.

“Nicely done.” Logan praised softly, holding Patton close to his chest as he walked back to his seat. He sat down, putting Patton back on the table and petting him as a form of praise.

Virgil’s jaw felt as if it would drop to the floor. He was expected to do all that?! He had expected to like, sit down or something and just be a degraded little dog. Did Roman seriously expect him to walk down in front of all those people? What if someone grabbed him! Or pushed the table!

And the other human had done it all so easily. Virgil cringed, watching him get pet like a little prized puppy dog. It was all so...sad.

Patton smiled up at Logan before turning to look at the other human. Waiting to see what he would do.

The king nodded at Logan before turning to Roman. “Alright Roman. Your turn.”

Roman nodded slowly, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do. Welp...this could either work or end horribly. Roman stood up and bowed towards the crowd. “Good evening everyone! I am glad you all could make it. This dinner if incredible special, as you know, I have just received my human yesterday! Having said this, I must admit that he does not know too much yet. But he will in time! I am happy to say though, that he does know a few tricks that we will show to you now.” Roman took a deep breath and looked down at Virgil, smiling sweetly and hoping Virgil would just listen to him.

“Stand!”

Virgil took a deep breath, feeling all eyes turn to him. He tried to tune them out, focusing on the human across from him and ignoring the way he was still being pet. Man that was weird to watch.

Slowly, on shaky legs, Virgil stood.

Roman grinned. Okay, this was good. If Virgil kept this up they might make it out of this. He held out his hand for Virgil. “Shake!”

Let’s get this over with. Virgil turned to Roman, quickly touching his palm to Roman’s before he could psyche himself out of this.

Roman shook his hand gently before letting it go. Okay, they could do this! “And sit!”

Gratefully Virgil collapsed back to the tabletop, breathing a sigh of relief that it didn’t seem like Roman wanted him to do that whole routine like Logan had done.

“And that’s it everyone! Thank you!” Roman bowed towards the crowd.

“That was it?” The king spoke up and Roman froze, grin slipping from his face.

“Well, I uh….” Roman bit his lip. “He is...still learning.”

“Seems like he should be able to do a bit more than just that.” The king said, looking straight at the human. Roman bit his lip nervously. Well, what did he do now?

Virgil gave Roman a warning look, letting the Giant know his patience was wearing thin.

Thankfully, Logan stepped in. “Father, it’s hardly been a day.” Logan reminded him sternly. “It’s impressive that Roman got the human to do anything other than cower. That’s more than you accomplished. You just don’t understand the meticulous details that come with such a task.”

The king stared at Logan for a few moments, on the verge of glaring before he huffed. “I suppose that makes sense. But it was still too short. Roman.” The king turned to Roman. “At least make the thing walk into your hand, that’s simple enough, right? Then you can be done.” The king leaned back in his chair, waiting for it to happen.

Oh...crap.

“Um, well, you see…” He trailed off, looking down at Virgil.

Virgil glared right back at him, growing nervous in the back of his mind. There was no way Roman could really force him to do it...right?

“This is exactly what I was talking about.” Logan huffed. “That is by no means a simple task, it can take weeks, even months, to gain enough of a bond to accomplish such a feat.”

The king ignored Logan. “Well?” He asked Roman, raising an eyebrow. Roman gulped.

“Um, father, I really think Logan is right in this instance-” The king cut him off.

“You told me that you could handle this, Roman.” Roman faltered.

“I can! I just-”

“Then do it.” Roman grit his teeth, looking from his father and then down to Virgil. He let out a sigh and placed his hand down next to the human.

“Climb on.” His boisterous crowd voice was gone.

Virgil froze, the overly loud room quiet for once as all attention was focused solely on him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. Virgil’s eyes were hyper focused on Roman’s palm. It wasn’t that complicated of a request, really. Just a few steps and it would all be over. Virgil would have behaved, the dinner would be finished, and he could at least escape all these prying eyes.

...so why couldn’t Virgil do it?

Virgil took a few nervous, tiny steps in the opposite direction, beginning to tug on his hoodie sleeves.

“Father, this is ridiculous.” Logan broke the silence, turning to the king.

The king ignored his eldest son and continued to watch Virgil like a hawk. Roman bit his lip and moved his hand closer to the human, nudging his legs slightly. Come on, Virgil.

Patton was watching this whole thing, memories of his own experiences coming back to him and was on the edge of his seat as he continued to watch the other human. He hated seeing the poor kiddo like that and something in him just screamed at him to help. He acted on instinct, not thinking as he ran away from Logan and into the center of the table.

“Hey everyone! Uh, wow, dinner sure was great today, huh! My portions were a little small though!” Patton giggled nervously, falling back on his old love of telling puns.

...What was he doing?

Virgil’s jaw dropped, shocked at the human’s sudden interruption. He was far from the only one.

“Patton!” Logan gasped, hurriedly grabbing Patton off the table and holding him close to his chest. Though a few dinner guests were amused by Patton’s uncharacteristic outburst, father was not one of them.

“Logan! What the hell was that!” The king yelled, his attention off of Roman and his human for a moment.

Roman was frozen in shock, just staring open jaw at Patton in Logan’s hands. The human had never done anything like that before. What the heck had gotten into him?

Patton cowered in Logan’s hand, staring wide-eyes at the angry king’s face. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest thing to do...

“I...I’m not sure.” Logan admitted, holding Patton closer and rubbing a finger down his back. He frowned, wondering what Patton had been thinking. Even back when Patton was new he was usually so quiet at events.

Virgil flinched, backing away from the angry king and the rest of the ruckus that seemed to have broken out. Had...had the other human been trying to protect him?

“Well, I hope you plan on punishing him for this!” The king yelled at Logan before turning to Roman and rubbing a hand across his face. “Roman, please hurry this along so we may all leave.”

Roman gulped and looked down at Virgil. He had thought for a moment his father would be distracted enough to not make them do this but looks like they had no such luck. He had no choice at this point, the king was already angry and making him angrier would be very bad. “Climb on.” He told Virgil again. Begging him with his eyes to do so.

Patton shook uncontrollably at the kings words, everything else deaf on his ears. No, no he couldn’t be punished. Not again! He thought he was done with all of that!

“It’s alright.” Logan murmured, his heart aching as Patton became inconsolable.

Virgil processed all that had happened. He really, really didn’t want to get into Roman’s hand. But it seemed he didn’t have a choice by now. He could fight it all he wanted, but one way or another he would end up in Roman’s hands anyways to get back to the room.

Virgil looked up at the terrified human in Logan’s hands, feeling extremely guilty. That human had done that just for him. Virgil loathed the idea of someone else getting punished, but he certainly wasn’t going to let that sacrifice be in vain.

So, with a deep breath, Virgil climbed onto Roman’s palm.

Roman let out a heavy sigh of relief as he lifted Virgil into the air. “Ta da…” He said weakly towards the guests and his father. His father grunted.

“Finally.” The king stood up. “The two of you are dismissed. Please deal with your humans accordingly.” Roman bowed and wasted no time in running out of the dining room and towards his own room.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #giants #human!virgil #human!patton #giant!logan #giant!patton #alternate world #platonic #kingdom perspective #part 5

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leiascully · 5 years

Text

Fic: Baseball Metaphors (7/?)

What can I say except you’re welcome, it’s PG-13, and don’t expect more until the weekend probably.

+ + + +

Between their travel schedule and Ethan and Jenny's various appointments, it's three weeks before they manage to get together for dinner again. Mulder is honestly surprised it even happens. He assumed when they all promised it would be a regular thing that everyone else was just saying it for the usual social reasons. He's never quite sure what to do anymore when someone who isn't Scully enjoys his company. But he dutifully makes reservations at an upscale Latin American place in deference to Jenny's cravings for beef and avocados, and Jenny practically croons as she looks at the menu.

"Oh, Fox, I can't believe you remembered," she gushes. "That's so nice."

"That photographic memory," Scully says fondly, and pats his hand. She's wearing a blouse tonight, silky and pink with one more button undone than her usual office wear, and a skirt that looks like it would be easy to slide his hand under. But he's definitely not counting his bases before they hatch, or however the metaphor would go.

"There was no way I was getting between a pregnant lady and her tacos," Mulder says.

"These are going to be way nicer than the ones we make at home," Ethan says. "Nice job, Fox."

Jenny pats her belly. She's showing slightly now. "I'm sure our little peanut will appreciate that."

"He's so considerate," Scully says. She throws Mulder a melting look.

"Sorry we haven't been able to meet before now," Ethan says, "but big news - we closed on the house. It's officially ours."

"Maybe we'll have you over for dinner!" Jenny says. "After the painters finish, of course. Can't be around the fumes right now." She laughs.

"Of course," Scully says with a gentle chuckle. "Maybe it'll inspire me to redo my apartment."

"I thought you were going to redo your apartment soon anyway," Mulder says in a meaningful tone, nuzzling at her ear.

"Oh, Fox," she says, playfully pushing him away. "You know we haven't worked out all the details yet."

"We've got news of our own," Mulder says, turning back to Ethan and Jenny. "We're moving in together." Jenny claps her hands.

"That's so wonderful!" she says. "You'll have to have a housewarming when you find your new place."

"We haven't even decided whether we're getting a new place," Scully says, smiling.

"You will," Jenny says decisively. "You know when you get to our age, it's just too hard to let someone else into your space, or to give up your own place. A fresh start is better. That way you can work together from the beginning. It all starts with compromise."

"Wise words from a beautiful lady," Ethan says, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"I just know you'll find the perfect place," Jenny says. Her eyes are shining. "And if you need any help, Dana, I actually love looking through the real estate ads. I'd be happy to look up a few places you might like."

"That sounds perfect," Scully says. Mulder nudges her knee with his under the table. She presses back firmly.

Dinner, fortunately, is delicious, because it's accompanied by endless details about Ethan and Jenny's bungalow, their paint colors, the new stove they're having delivered, and the plans they have for their guest room. In the absence of wine, Scully indulges in a margarita or two. Mulder watches her lick the salt off the rim of her glass and remembers the kisses they shared in his car. They haven't talked about it since, but he's indulged in a few reminiscences, alone in his apartment. He picks up a forkful of pickled vegetables and pork from his Cuban plate and orders another margarita for himself.

The meal ends with churros, fresh-fried and glistening with sugar. Scully dips one into the accompanying chocolate sauce and holds it to Mulder's lips. He bites into it, only a little self-conscious. It crunches gently, hot and delicious. He looks at Scully and it's like they're the only two people in the room. Maybe that's where this ridiculous ritual comes from.

It's a nice night, somehow, or nice enough, for a night that doesn't involve watching either UFOs or baseball. He couldn't have imagined becoming anything even approaching friends with anyone who'd ever dated Scully, but Ethan isn't that bad, and Jenny's definitely trying to smooth everything over. He can tell that all this domesticity is still pressing on some sore spots in Scully's heart, but it isn't intentional. Ethan and Jenny just genuinely want to share their joy.

They say their good nights at the door of the restaurant. Mulder puts his arm around Scully and she slips her hand into the back pocket of his nice jeans. He isn't sure whether she's actually squeezing his ass, but at this point, he wouldn't put it past her. When he agreed to play pretend as her boyfriend, he didn't expect either of them to commit to the bit so fully, but it makes sense despite Scully's generally reserved nature. When she goes for something, she goes all in. Rewriting Einstein. Pursuing some kind of accelerated program through med school that he still doesn't understand so that she could join the FBI. Wrangling him and investigating the X-Files. Cuddling up to him at a restaurant as if they're sickeningly in love.

He's seen worse coping strategies for dealing with one's ex and one's ex's new house purchase, promotion, and pregnant pretty fiancée.

"See you soon?" Ethan says, holding out his hand for Mulder to shake.

"We wouldn't miss it," Mulder says. "Or that double housewarming." They wave as Ethan and Jenny turn to go through the parking lot.

"Is this what it's like to have friends?" he murmurs to Scully.

"I'm not sure anymore," she says wryly. "All I have is you."

"I'm not so bad," he says with amusement. "Am I?"

Now she's definitely squeezing his ass. "You do all right."

"You okay?" he asks.

She sighs. "It's srange," she says at last. "On the surface, it seems as if they have everything I've always wanted, but I don't look at Ethan and want to be with him. I don't even know if that life is what I want at this point. I mean, it is, but this job isn't exactly compatible with parenting, and I don't want to give it up, and I don't want to have a family unless I have a partner, which I don't have time to find. My parents loved each other, but I saw what raising four kids basically on her own put on my mother. And Dad missed so much."

"Meanwhile my parents had nothing but me in their lives," Mulder says. "After Sam, I mean. That wasn't ideal either."

"So two to four kids," Scully muses. "I don't think I'm the type for immaculate conception."

"That should be the least of your worries," he tells her, opening the car door for her.

They bicker amiably about the existence of Bigfoot on the way home, a refrain as familiar as anything on Top 40 radio. He parks outside her building and turns to her, trying not to have expectations. But he can't stop remembering the heat of her kisses that fogged up the windows, the weight of her balanced in his lap. She blinks at him slowly in the dark of his car and he thinks she's remembering too.

"Walk me to my door?" she says, and the quirk in her lips makes her intent clear.

"It would be my pleasure," he says, and follows her into her building. He props himself against the door jamb as she unlocks the door. It takes her a second, even though he knows they were at the restaurant long enough for the margaritas to wear off. If she's jittery, it's for some other reason. He hopes it's him. The lock clicks open at last and she tugs her keys out.

"Well," he says, grinning, "good night."

She reaches up and tows him into her apartment by his shirtfront. He kicks the door shut and lets her press him against it as he bends down to kiss her. He does taste salt and sugar flecked at the edges of her lips this time, but what matters is the heat of her and the way her lips and tongue insist on capturing his full attention. He cups his hands around her face. He'd pick her up if he dared and let her wrap her legs around his waist, but as natural as it feels to kiss her, all this is new.

"I think you've earned second base," she says. "For outstanding performance at an endless dinner."

"You sure?" he asks.

"I saw the way you looked at me in that hotel room in Oregon when I showed up in nothing but a robe," she teases. "To say nothing of assorted evidence I've gathered over the last few years, up to and including elevator maintenance. If you're not interested, we can say good night, but I better not hear any more bullshit about method acting."

"I'm interested," he assures her. "It's just that pesky real life and office that we share I'm worried about."

She shrugs. "It's worked so far. I'm not going to tell my therapist about it, but it's worked." She pulls him closer and looks up at him. "If I didn't let Them take you from me, I'm not going to let this take you from me."

"If you're sure," he says.

"I'm sure that I'd rather that you were feeling me up than that we were continuing this conversation," she says, pressing her body against his. "So shut up and put out or get out." She winks to soften her words.

He kisses her again and unbuttons her blouse with feverish intensity, sliding his hand inside to touch the lace of her bra. Her nipples are already hard. He flicks his thumb across them and she gasps against his lips.

"Ah, Scully," he says reverently.

"Couch," she commands, stepping away and taking his hand, and he follows her over. She perches on the arm of the couch, her shirt half-open and her eyes half-lidded. He sits below her and buries his face between her breasts. She laughs, her chest rumbling against his forehead as he nuzzles against her velvety skin.

Scully, in a surprise to no one, has absolutely perfect breasts. They're perfectly shaped, with a perfect weight in his hands, and her nipples are rosy peeking through the lace of her bra. He loves them. He could play with them forever. From the noises Scully is making as he gently squeezes them, that's more than all right with her.

He loses track of time. He's hypnotized by the texture of her, the salt taste of her skin under his tongue. He pulls her on top of him, toppling onto the cushions. She's straddling him and yes, he was right about the skirt being easy to push up. He undoes her bra and pushes her shirt off her shoulders. She slides her arms out of the straps and he has access to all of her. The way she braces herself above him changes the shape of her breasts and he could spend forever just exploring all the things gravity or the lack thereof could do to her body. He wants to get her in a pool. He wants to take her into space. He wants to grow old with her, and fuck, he already knew it, but it's a whole new world.

"Mulder," she says, and her voice comes from far away, but he reels himself in. She slides down his body until she can look into his eyes. "I don't want to stop."

"I hear a big 'but' coming," he murmurs, kissing her.

"But I don't think we should round the bases tonight," she says, her voice brimming with regret.

"You know I hate it when you're right," he says. She leans down, smiling against his lips.

"I know you do," she says. "But you and I both know we're going to have to have more dinners with them. It makes more sense to ration it out."

"Just in case of catastrophe," he says.

"That and I don't want to fling myself into your arms to assuage my regrets about my former relationship," she says. "You deserve better." She kisses him again. "But god, I want you."

"You'll just have to wait a little longer," he says indulgently, brushing his hand down her bare thigh.

"At least until the nursery's painted," she says, rolling her eyes.

"That's third base," he tells her. "Housewarming is home."

"Who put you in charge of the calendar?" she teases.

"I'm kind of in charge of the elevator," he jokes back. "Besides, who knew the way to get you to drop all your inhibitions was to put you at a dinner table with a nice boring suburban couple?"

"That sounds much more scandalous than I think you intended," she says with a smile.

"My scandal level is precisely calibrated," he says. She climbs off him and he sits up. He'll have to address his situation again when he gets home. He's half-amazed he didn't come in his pants like a college boy fumbling around in his twin bed with his first hookup.

"Good night," Scully says, tracing a finger down the buttons of his shirt.

"I guess you didn't get to second base," he says, looking at his chest. Hers is much more appealing. She's shrugged her shirt back on and her breasts are bare inside it, flushed and possibly marked by his teeth.

"Next time," she says. "You don't have quite as much to work with."

"I might surprise you," he says.

"Next time," she says again, and this time it's a promise. She sends him out the door with a kiss and a slap on the ass. He shakes his head in the hallway, only half-believing that any of this is happening at all.

#the x-files fic #xfiles fic #the xfiles fic #msr #mulder x scully #fic: baseball metaphors #my fic #i wanted to squeeze one out for you all #so to speak

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sandersgrey · 6 years

Text

here it is, what you’ve been waiting for

AU in which Persephone is Patton, Hades is Logan, Orpheus is Roman and Virgil is Eurydice. In which Virgil wakes up in the Underworld.

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Bonus. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve. Part thirteen is here.

Word count: 1,371

Ao3 link: here.

@ab-artist @astral-eclipse

Virgil didn't know what he expected to feel. The same? Maybe a little more aware of all of his mistakes? (If something like that was even possible, considering). He had heard a lot about ghost and, while weeping sounded a bit more up his alley, he didn't know about the traditional chains. Sounded a little too dramatic.

It wasn't anything like that, being dead.

It felt like taking off shoes that were two sizes too small after a long, long day of work. Virgil could feel his body (why did he still have a body? Shouldn't it be still in the surface? Oh, God, what if Roman saw-...) tingling with a very strange, but not at all unpleasant, feeling of power at his fingertips. He knew he could do things he had never imagined with it. Maybe it was not at actual gods' level, but there was still something there, a feeling of not quite warmth that nestled in what could be called his bones and ran in his blood. Virgil had travelled many miles by foot when he was alive. He had gotten rides and walked and had seen more new horizons than anyone else he had ever met. (Except, of course, that they weren't new. There is only one horizon and you must follow it. If you don't, then who will?). He had always considered himself someone who was very rarely tied down.

And yet he had never felt so free.

"Where am I?", Virgil said. He had expected his voice to be husky and rough, as it was every morning, but it sounded... well, not normal. As normal as the forest is after a day of rain, everything green and clean for a while, at the best it can look like. He doesn't think it will only last a while.

"Oh, good, you're awake", said a man that Virgil instantly recognized as the god who had brought him here. He tried to sit down, but Logan gently put a hand on his chest and pushed him down until he was back to his former horizontal position. "No, don't move. What your body and soul went through was quite exhausting, I reckon, so you should rest. You're in the Underworld right now. To be more specific, in my room and bed- don't look at me like that, I already said it's not like that, you just were unconscious and I thought it would be best if you didn't wake up alone in a guestroom all by yourself."

Virgil had to admit the thought alone scared him. Logan looked nice enough, though, concern in his eyes and a fond almost-there-but-not-quite smile that the boy had never before seen directed at him like that before. He blushed.

"What exactly did you do? I don't feel dead."

"And you would know exactly how being dead feels like", Logan raised a brow, amused. Virgil smiled. "No, you're not alive, but you're dead in the way humans define death. You're more a spirit now."

"But I have a body."

"And a nice one, at that", Logan said, apparently without thinking, because his face quickly acquired the same color of some of the tomatos Patton had produced for the workers a few months ago. (Patton...). "I mean- yes, you do. That's because you're not a ghost, more a nymph, and they can have physical bodies if they so desire. You're human, or used to be, so it mighr take you a while to learn how to be completely imaterial, if you do want to learn. Not everyone tries."

"Everyone?", Virgil smirks. (You're just like anyone else, a charity case. You've always been the spare, first with Roman and now here, and Roman loved you- how heartbroken he must be now, just because you were hungry and angry and sad? Just because you saw a flew flowers and thought it was enough proof? And now you'll never see him again. Never, and you deserve it.) "So there's a whole ton more of people you found in forests and brought here?"

"Uh- not quite. They're mostly made by my husband", Logan shrugged with a sheepish smile. "He's nicer than me."

"That's difficult to imagine."

(Why did you say that? He's married- and so should be you-)

(But he's blushing. He looks happy. Did no one ever tell him he's nice?)

(Well, then someone must be sure he knows.)

"I'm- I'm not, really", Logan said embarassed. Even the tips of his ears were pink. His skin was pale as marble, the color clearly visible, and Virgil found he quite liked it. "Nice, I mean. You can't be the king and be nice."

"Look, man- can I call you man?"

"Uh- sure?"

"No one I've ever known would have given me food and the option to be here without wanting anything back. Well, there's someone- but he's been away for some time now, and that's still one in a dozen. You're nice. Face it. It's just a good thing about you, like your hair- really dude, how do you get it to stay in place so well, I don't see any gel in it- or your smile or-"

Virgil suddenly noticed he was rambling about Logan's hair and wisely closed his mouth, deciding maybe he should keep it closed for a few years. (It looked like an actual option now that he had all eternity.)

Logan smiled, though. He counted it as a win.

"Thank you, Virgil", he said softly. "That's quite kind of you."

Virgil snorted. "People have used many words to talk about the things I say, and kind didn't use to be one of them."

"Maybe then", Logan conceded. "But you're being kind now. That kind of thing matters."

"Didn't your husband complain about you putting a young man in your bed?", Virgil changed the subject. He had never been good with receiving compliments, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to blush more right now, under Logan's fond gaze.

The god grimaced.

"He was pretty pissed when I brought you here. He thought- well, anyway, I explained everything to him, and I think he's still a little angry, but he'll come around. He calmed down a lot after I told him- well. He didn't mind the bed bit. In fact he's taking care of the Underworld right now so I can stay here for a while". Logan's face brightened up as he talked about his husband in a way that made Virgil's heart clench in a way that he wasn't sure if was painful or not. He knew he didn't want him to stop talking. "He's always like that, even when we're fighting. He would have been able to help you better, I think."

"You did way more than you needed to", Virgil say loyally.

"He would have done more", Logan said with the absolute certainty of a man who has watched a god share kindness as if it were candy for thousands of years. "I think he was pretty mad, though, because he knows you."

Virgil's heart would have stopped if it had still been beating.

"What."

"Well, he's worried I'm trapping you down here. That's not the case, of course, you can come and go as you please, but, as your soul is tied ro the Underworld now, you need to come back at least once a year. I'd prefer if you stayed here, but the choice is yours, if you're willing to choose", Logan shrugged. It was a good way to hide his dread when he thought about Virgil leaving.

"Wait, no, what did you mean when you said he kn-"

"Logan? It's over for today, how is he- oh. Oh, dear." Another god, who had just opened the door, closed it behind him as he walked into the room. His husband held out his hand and he took it with the grace and ease of someone who had done it thousands of times and didn't even need to look to know where his lover was. His eyes never once left Virgil. The boy, in his shock, felt himself longing for the sun and flowers while looking in the quiet warmth of them. "Hello, Virgil."

"Patton", he whispered.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

#alex wont shut up #my writing #fanfic #hadestown au #thomas sanders #sanders sides #part thirteen #here it is what youve been waiting for #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #analogical #romantic analogical #logicality #romantic logicality #moxiety #romantic moxiety

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spoopyacidfairy-moved · 6 years

Text

My Thoughts on the Newest Build

After a long wait, Yandere dev has finally given us a new build, one I can confidently say we have been eagerly anticipating since the first teaser. Throughout the day, I’ve been scouring Tumblr for different people’s opinions, some I agree with, some I don’t, either way, I love seeing everyone so passionate about something so seemingly trivial. With that out of the way, here’s what I think.

1: The Cooking club

Character wise? I’m not too impressed. After the last major update with such big personalities in the Science, Gardening, and Art clubs, I really think the Cooking club is a let down. That doesn’t mean they’re bad, I just wouldn’t bat an eye when stabbing them in the back, which can either be good or bad. The substitute leader-I haven’t learned their names yet-seems nothing more than a gender swapped Amai. They have the same hair, the same eyes, the same personality. The one thing I do like about him is his voice; I think it’s really soothing.

For the other members, I think the only one I really like is Saki, and that’s probably just because I’m biased and will always love the rainbow 12. Her hair was updated, and personally I like the old style better, but it isn’t really an issue. There’s one girl (Ajia I think her name is) who is shockingly similar to Sakura Hagiwara physically. While Sakura’s hair is up in pigtails with flowers in it, Ajia’s hair is in low pigtails, but her hair is also pink, and her eyes are also green. Like Saki’s hair, it’s not really important, I just think she could have been designed a little better. As for the other two, I don’t have anything to say other than “meh”.

I have a couple of issues with their routines. I think the idea of having them walk around school giving food to the other students is a good one, but maybe not first thing in the morning. I think that’s better suited for lunch time, since people will be eating anyways. I think they should be in their clubroom in the morning, preparing the food, then hand it out during lunch time.

Overall, the Cooking club for me is a 5/10

2: The Drama club

The Drama club for me is almost the update’s saving grace. When Yandere dev said a while back that he wanted members of clubs to look similar, I was a little concerned. Yes, they’re easier to spot, but that’s why they have accessories, so they stand out. The Art club, for example; none of them look similar hair and eye color wise, but you can spot them based off of their berets and the fact that they’re positioned in different hallways. The Martial Arts and the Occult clubs are unfortunately victims of looking the same. I cannot for the life of me tell the difference of the Martial Arts club members, and if not for their more detailed personalities, the Occult club would be near impossible. But I digress; the Drama club managed to keep their same color while all looking different. They all have different shades of purple, as well as different hair styles. Hell, Riku has his rose pinned to his uniform, which I thought was adorable.

On to the characters. I love the substitute. He’s like a more approachable version of Kizana.He’s the walking stereotype of a hyper theatre nerd, and I love it. They way he walks, the way he speaks, it’s so over-the-top and extra it just cracks me up whenever I see him.

I also really liked the other members. One seems to butt heads with Kizana quite a bit, and I like that there’s a Drama club member that doesn’t suck up to her all the time. I am in love with Kokona’s new portrait. The shade of her hair was altered a little, which I think looks a lot nicer than the old one.

For game mechanics, I’m a little conflicted. They meet in their clubroom in the morning, then immediately head over to the gym to rehearse. It kind of makes me wonder, “do they really need the Drama clubroom if they’re only going to use it for short meetings?” Then I remembered Yandev saying awhile back that he was considering creating another outdoor club so there are more witnesses outside. Why not move the Drama club outside? Then the Sports club can claim the gym for themselves, and the Drama club will have its own building. If Akademi is as prestigious as it’s made out to be, then I’m sure it has the money to construct another building for its future actors. As someone who’s involved in community theatre, I know firsthand that schools are more than willing to offer their space. If the school doesn’t want to just let the kids use it, then there are a lot of people outside of the school who would use the space. It wouldn’t affect gameplay, but it’s an excuse to add a whole other building.

The Drama club for me is a 7/10.

3: Gema Taku/The updated Gaming club

This seems to be the part of the update you either hate or tolerate, and honestly...I really don’t have an issue with Gema, it’s really Pippi, Ryuto, Midori, and Mai’s updated routines that bother me.

For the latter, I don’t mind the premise of them playing a Pokemon Go type game and wandering around the school, but I think it should be moved outside or on the roof. For one, the outside of the school is empty as shit. Once you move past the gym, you’re free to do whatever you want so long as Shiromi isn’t around. And now that Oka’s been removed and Midori and Mai are now with the rest of the Gaming club, the rooftop is pretty empty. For two, the hallways are getting kind of clogged. I’m one of the rare supporters of having an extremely populated school, but the Gaming club wandering around seems a little too much.

On to Gema. Okay so don’t @ me, but I don’t have a problem with him at all. Sure, his voice wasn’t what I was expecting, but I mean come on, he’s literally a trashy weeb guy; what did you all expect? That’s also why I don’t see anything wrong with his task either. This guy probably doesn’t interact with many females who aren’t part of the club, and if you’re not frequently targeted for bullying or a complete idiot, the bullies seem like perfect goddesses. It makes sense that Gema would be interested in them. Another thing I’ve noticed is that people think the bullies are “too shallow.” Umm, they’re bullies. Sorry Tumblr, but your watering down of these straight up bitches isn’t canon, nor should it be. These are girls who aren’t interested in anything that isn’t trendy or “in”. Of course they’d want nothing to do with an anime and video game obsessed nerd. Sorry to burst your bubble, but the bullies are spot on.

The Gaming club for me is a 6/10.

4: Shin

Let’s be honest; we all saw this day coming. Our beloved Oka-Cola would be taken out and Shin would be her replacement. The one thing that bothers me about him, which goes back to my rant about the club members looking the same, is that he’s literally just a gender bent Oka. I was kind of excited to see Shin as the substitute leader and to hear his lines, but nothing he says I couldn’t imagine Oka saying. There’s just nothing to him. I like his voice, but that’s about all he’s got going for him.

He’s not good, not bad, and he gets a 6/10 from me.

5: Overall thoughts

As I mentioned earlier, we’ve been anxiously waiting for this build for a long time, and I think most of us were let down. I’ve noticed that there’s a bit of a pattern with the major updates. The Photography club was okay, the Science club update was great, the Sports club was okay, and now this one seems to be hated. For the game’s development, I think this is a fantastic build. Two clubs were implemented, and two were updated. It means things are going quickly and smoothly.

I want to address a couple of other things. One, is the hate around Gema’s voice. I do agree it isn’t fitting, but that’s all it is. It isn’t fitting. It’s not the actor’s fault. He could be very talented and could have tried his very hardest, but either Dev gave him bad instruction, or he just wasn’t the right fit. Remember, the game is still in early stages of development. The actor might be replaced. Nothing is set in stone. Which leads me to another thing; the fact that some people think the voices aren’t fitting for the models. These are placeholder models, these won’t be in the final game. Eventually, maybe Gema’s voice will fit his design. Only time will tell.

All in all, I think the update was okay. There wasn’t anything too particularly awful, at least not to me, but I do hope the Light Music club will be better.

The August 18th build gets a 6/10 from me.

Feel free to message me or send in asks about your opinions! All thoughts are valid, and I’d love to hear yours. :)

#yandere simulator #yandere sim #yansim #ys #yan sim

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themushroomfriend · 5 years

Text

The Servant

Michael Langdon x Reader

WARNINGS JUST IN CASE:

some language, a little dominance thing going on but nothing serious, umm. Theres sex so watch out for that :P

Dis some smut. But i got carried away so it takes a while to get to the actual smut. My bad. Just feels so rushed and not authentic in any way when it goes straight to the sex. I’m just making an atmosphere man. Anyway, enjoy weirdos.

You had been sitting in this chair for what seemed like eternity. Langdon had asked for you specifically. You knew why, but you didn’t want to admit that he may know.

You hadn’t been in the bunker nearly as long as everyone else. In fact, Michael had found you outside, in the ashes that remained of the planet. He found you, unharmed, no disease, and perfectly healthy, save for the fact that you looked like a skeleton. The fact of the matter was that you had survived the apocalypse. You weren’t effected by the radiation. You knew why, but he didn’t. Or at least you thought so, until now.

You were by no means a witch. You did, however, belong to a family of them. The only thing you inherited from the long line of witches was immunity. But, you had no idea of this ability until the apocalypse began. It wasn’t triggered until something seriously harmful had entered your system.

So, here you sat, in this creaky wooden chair, nervously tapping your foot against the floor. You didn’t know much about Michael, but you did know he was dangerous. He wasn’t what he said he was. You could feel in your bones he was something different. And you didn’t know why, but you felt that if he knew your lineage, you would be in danger.

Finally, the door opens, revealing Michael. You look up at him, and stand.

“You wanted to see me?” You ask, smoothing out your skirt.

“Come in.” He replies, his tone mischievous. He has a twinkle in his eye. He has something planned.

You follow him into his office, closing the door behind you. He sits at his desk, gesturing for you to sit as well. Hesitantly, you come and sit in front of him.

“I assume you know why I’ve called for you.” He breathes out, folding his hands together. You fail to give an answer, which is all he really needs. He smirks, leaning back in his chair.

“Are you a witch?” He asks, his eyes burning a hole into the back of your skull.

“No.” You say truthfully.

“Then how did you survive the radiation?” He inquires, leaning forward.

“I... my mother put a protection spell on me.” You lie. You aren’t sure why you did, but you feel that him knowing your natural born gift could put you in danger.

“You’re lying, y/n.” He growls, standing abruptly. You flinch a little, surprised at his sudden movement. He’s leaning over his desk, looking down at you.

“I won’t kill you. I know you come from a witch family. I will spare you, but only on one condition.” He demands, his voice commanding and dark. Your lack of response presses him to tell you.

“You will do whatever I say, whatever I want, whenever, however I please or demand. You will be here any time I call for you. If you accept this, I will assure your safety here. If not, I’ll have you killed. Either one is suitable for me so I suggest you pick wisely.” He says, sitting back down in his chair.

You are practically speechless. Be his servant or die. You sure as hell didn’t want to be his servant, but you also knew you weren’t ready to die. You suppose, it doesn’t really matter. Being his slave would be humiliating, but... at least you’ll live. And maybe it won’t be so bad.

“...Alright. If that’s all you want.” You reply. In all honesty you expected a bigger request. You were a servant already, except it was for a group of people instead of an individual. All he does is smirk at your remark.

“You are moving to the bedchamber closest to mine effective immediately. Move your belongings in there and I will call for you when I need you.” He orders, dismissing you as if you were an after thought. You hold in your pride as you stand and leave, shutting the door behind you.

As soon as you are alone again you breathe out, not realizing that you had practically been holding your breath the entire time. You were surprised at his request. It seemed so small compared to what you expected from him. His goal had to be to demean you, devalue you. He knew you came from a line of witches, but you weren’t one yourself. Maybe that had something to do with it. Things could be different if you were born with the full gift.

You rushed down to your small room, gathering what few belongings you had. Everything you owned could be put into a single box, since most of everything had been thrown away in fear of contamination upon you entering the bunker. Your possessions included a few family photos, dried sage, your small pouch of enchanted stones, a journal, and a small metal pin in the shape of a thistle.

You gathered these together in a small box, made your bed, and headed back upstairs to find the new room. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous about everything. Michael was very intimidating. Handsome, yes. But scary. Being close to him was more than passing your comfort zone. The more you thought about it, the more anxious you felt.

You would have to make his bed every day, set his clothes for him, clean his bedroom, everything that had to do with his room was something you had to deal with. It was just too intimate. Someones bedroom is theirs alone, and it felt like intruding. Not to mention the fact that it was his of all peoples. He will probably make messes on purpose just to make you clean it up. You could see that smug look on his face already, staring you down while you cleaned up after him like a child.

You turned the corner, finding the secluded hallway that belonged to Michael Langdon. Taking a deep breath, you walked down to the very end, seeing one door leading to his room, and one not too far to the right. That must be the room. You opened the door to see a bedroom slightly bigger than your old one, and much nicer at that. The sheets were softer, and colored green. The furniture was much prettier as well, with pretty designs cut into the cedar wood. The room was more than you expected.

You sat your belongings down, feeling the soft fabric of the blankets of the bed. The mattress was much softer as well. You felt like you had been living in the medieval era and just found royalty. You laughed to yourself, almost forgetting the circumstances you were under.

“It is almost time for supper. Bring me my meal. I will be in my bedroom.” You hear from the doorway. You turn around, startled by the sudden intrusion. Michael stood in your doorway, seemingly towering above you. Collecting your thoughts, you nod.

“Yes sir.” Is all you say as he turns away, not giving you a second glance. Okay, not a bad start. Just bringing him dinner.

You pull back your hair, pinning it to stay out of your face as you head downstairs into the kitchen, trying to calm your nerves. You saw no cooks, but there was a silver platter on the marble counter top. You peaked inside, seeing a full meal lying there. The smell invaded your nose as you saw a steak with vegetables and potato. This is what he’s been eating this entire time? While you ate little cubes of nothing? You wanted to be furious, but what did you expect? The leader of the Cooperative, the representative, eating the same thing as everyone else? Doubt it.

Sighing, you take the platter and walk back upstairs, careful not to trip. Luckily the dress wasn’t long enough to make you fall.

As you reached the bedroom door, you heard him say “Come in.” before you had knocked. Shrugging it off, you turned the knob and entered, seeing him sitting at a desk at the left. His room was much larger than yours, and fit for a king. you thought your room felt nice, until you saw his.

Without saying anything, you brought him his plate, sitting it in front of him. He doesn’t look at you once before eating. You turn to leave, but he tells you to stop.

“You will prepare my bath while I eat. Make the water as hot as possible.” He commands. Though you feel slightly hungry, and the smell of the steak is swirling in your head, you oblige anyway. You walk into his bathroom, dumbfounded at it’s beautiful design. Everything was sleek and black, with hints of white here and there. The tub was massive as well, and could easily fit two people.

You turned the hot water on all the way, until it began to steam and almost boil. You sat at the edge of the tub, waiting for it to fill, when you saw him enter the bathroom. He wasn’t wearing the coat he usually had on, just wearing a black button up shirt and pants. His hair flowed past his shoulders in an almost angelic way. He looked so perfect, but he was ugly.

“Undress me.” He says casually, with that look in his eye again. That slight smirk. That confident, smug face. You didn’t know how to feel about it. You wanted to punch him but kiss him at the same time. He’s playing games because he knows he can.

You squint at him, unsure why he can’t do it himself. You were definitely embarrassed, you could feel your cheeks getting warm, your pulse quickening. He stood there patiently, expecting you to follow his order. Fine. If you really want to be that way... You think as you stand up and walk to him.

He’s eyeing you as you reach for the first button of his shirt, then the second, and third. You don’t make eye contact with him, just trying to focus on the buttons and not his burning skin. You reach the last button, and push the fabric over his wide shoulders, grazing his arms as you remove it completely. The contact of your hands on his arms felt almost like a trance. It had been so long since you had any sort of human contact., whether that be sexual or just a friendly hug. You glanced at his body, and yes it was perfect. Just like his damn face.

You picked up the shirt and folded it, sitting it on the counter. You looked up at him briefly, seeing that he was staring you down. You visibly blush, turning your attention to his pants so you don’t have to look at him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction he was obviously searching for. You quickly undid his belt, taking it off his waist, and unbuttoning his pants, his zipper...

And you could feel his bulge. His half hard bulge. Was he enjoying telling you what to do? You almost pulled away in anger, but decided against it. Taking a deep breath, you pulled his pants down, but leaving his underwear.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Underwear too.” He says before you can leave. “Are you enjoying yourself?” You finally blurt. You immediately regret you sarcastic tone, covering your mouth. He smiles down at you, grabbing onto your shoulder, beckoning you to get back to your knees.

“Yes I am.” Is all he says, as you feel his hand glide into your hair. Your heart is racing, it’s a power play. That’s all he’s doing. He must get off on it. Though his touch is distracting, and enticing, you swat his hand away.

“If you want me then you need to try harder than that. You can’t win me over that easily.” You say, though you still pull his underwear to his ankles. He’s hard, for sure. And very attractive.

“So you admit you want me.” He suggests, trying to gain control again.

“You’re the one who’s trying to convince me.” You reply, stepping away from him and turning off the water. He smirks at you, naked and wanting. You refuse to look down, as much as you want to. The need to win the argument was slightly stronger than the need for sex.

He doesn’t answer, but walks past you and steps into the tub. After he’s settled, he looks up at you.

“I want you to join me.” He says, bringing his arms to rest at the back of the large porcelain tub. He leans his head back, exposing his neck and wet skin. You aren’t sure if this an order, or a request.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, your voice low.

“I don’t know, do you?” He responds, his eyes closed now.

You decide to just go for it. Why the hell not? You take the pins out of your hair, remove your white apron, and unbutton your grey dress. He doesn’t open his eyes, just lays there smirking. He’s so smug, the asshole. You remove everything until your naked, and you step into the tub. The water is indeed burning, and you wince slightly as you slip in. Your heart is racing, seeing him like this, and the fact that you gave in irritates you.

After you’ve settled into the tub, he opens his eyes and looks at you. He has no shame in looking at your body, and you can see his member twitch a little. He sits up, and reaches for your waist, pulling you towards him.

“Mr. Langdon, what are you-” You start, but are interrupted with a rough kiss. He tastes so sweet, you don’t understand it. Like the smell of a flower dipped in honey. His arms are caressing your sides, pulling your hips to his in silent command. You can feel his penis slightly caress your clit as your legs rest at either side of him. You jump at the sudden contact, and he grasps your back, beckoning you back down to him. His hand slips between your folds, lightly stimulating your clit and entrance, wasting no time in pleasing you.

You let out an involuntary moan, leaning your head against his shoulder. As his finger rubs against you faster and faster, his lips find your neck, nibbling at your skin. He begins to suck, and you can feel an inevitable hickey forming. You grasp at his arm, feeling the old but familiar burning pleasure rise in your clit.

You can’t help but moan in his ear as he drives you closer and closer. His other hand snakes its way to your ass, smacking it hard enough to launch you forward. You gasp at the sudden sensation, but he gives you no time to recover before smacking you again, and slipping his finger inside you.

“Michael!” You exclaim between heated breathes. He only goes faster in response, and you can feel your wetness begin to drip down his hand. His hand decides to leave your rear, finding its way to your neck instead. He pushes you away slightly so he can see your face as he drives you to orgasm. His eyes are wild, hair damp, drops of water decorating his heaving chest. The sight of him alone sends you over the edge as you climax in his hand.

“That’s it, cum for me y/n.” He says confidently. You grasp at his hair instinctively, pulling it as you ride your climax out. You hear him moan a little as you ball his hair in your fist, your hips grinding against his finger, beckoning him to go deeper.

Just as you’ve come down from your climax, he picks you up from the tub, carrying you to his bedroom. He’s still hard, and he wants something in return. He lays you down on his massive bed, and spreads your legs.

“I see you’ve creamed for me.” He states as his head finds its way between your legs, sticking his tongue out and sliding it along your already sensitive clit. You gasp as his arms hook under your legs. You can feel his hot breath enveloping you as his tongue flicks up and down relentlessly. He’s building you up all over again, beckoning for you to orgasm for the second time. It takes almost no time at all for you to climax again.

“Michael I-” You try to warn. In response he pushes your legs higher and further apart so you can feel even more. The moan that escapes your lips is loud as you feel that wave of pleasure go through you. You grab his hair again, and you see he is watching you as you orgasm. You let go, falling on your back as you finish. You see him crawl on top of you as you catch your breath, and you feel his penis graze you again. You wince at the over stimulation, so he brings himself lower to your soaking entrance. You look up at him, your face flushed and your hair a mess. His lips are glistening, and he’s out of breath as well.

“I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re going to orgasm for me again. Understand?” He commands as he pushes himself inside you. All you can do is nod as he begins a gruesome pace, giving you no time to adjust to his length. He’s grunting above you, focusing on you and your body, and how it’s making him feel good. You’re so dizzy from all the stimulation, you can only focus on how amazing he feels inside you.

Suddenly he stops, ordering you to get on all fours. You do so without question, feeling your wetness drip down your legs as he pulls out. You can smell the mix of sex and flowers as you get to your knees.You feel him grab your waist, pushing himself inside you once again. He’s going harder now, reaching that spot that seems impossible to get to. His hand finds its way to your hair, pulling. You hiss at the sudden stimulation to your scalp, but are distracted right away by the growing heat in your lower belly.

You can’t control your moans anymore as he pounds into you as quickly as he can. You hear him moaning along with you, and that sound he makes just gets you further along. He puts pressure on your head, silently telling you to lower your upper body so that your ass is in the air. He keeps his hand in your hair, making sure you don’t move. His other hand supports your waist as his thrusts become more uneven. He’s groaning, and you suddenly feel warm liquid burst inside you. His orgasm causes you to do the same, and you finish together.

He slows down, still going for a bit after he cums inside you. He eventually comes to a stop, pulling out. You hear the wet sound as he does so, feeling more liquid drop on your legs. He puts his arms around your front, sitting you back up. You are both breathing hard, lost for words. He moves away from you so you can lay down. You look over at him, and his face is red. He drops down beside you, looking up at the ceiling

“I told you I’d fuck you.” He says, smirking at you.

“Well maybe next time it’ll be the other way around.” You challenge, shooting him a glare.

“Oh?” He replies, his disbelief apparent.

“Yes.” Is all you say. He’s not as godly as he think he is. He feels godly, yes. But that doesn’t mean you can’t please him just as well. You know how to fuck too. You just let him do it this time...

#michael langdon #smut

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hockeyandstuff91 · 6 years

Text

How did this happen? - Part 10

Word count: 5,233

Players: Tyler Seguin

Other people: Ashlyn (mentioned)

Warning: cussing?

Authors note: Sorry this is so damn long LOL I didn't mean to make it this long but I just ended up writing and writing and writing so here ya go! Also the story about accidentally playing hockey.. yeah its actually real LOL I have yet to play or anything but the story I told towards the end of this part happened like a month ago haha so I'll have to keep you guys updated on that closer to October.. xD wish me luck 😂😂 Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy this stupidly long part! haha

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

(This whole part is Brooke’s POV)

At the end of May Tyler and I had moved all of my stuff back to his house. I had only gotten to live in my apartment for almost 4 months before having to move. That didn't feel too great, it honestly made me feel like I failed, but Tyler told me over and over again that I didn't fail and that shit happened. He was right though, shit did happen and it wasn't something I could control so I shouldn't be too upset at myself.

I had always believed that everything happened for a reason, so this of course was another one of those situations. I wasn't sure yet what the reason was exactly, but I would figure it out eventually I was pretty sure.

I was excited to be living at Tyler's again though, I did spend a lot of my time here anyways. There was a lot more room here than there was in my apartment. Granted I loved my little apartment to myself but it did get lonely sometimes when the boys were traveling and Ashlyn was busy with work.

Tyler had given me the spare bedroom upstairs, down the hall from his. The room that I use to stay in downstairs he had let me turn into my own office space, which I appreciated a lot. I told him over and over that I could fit it all into my room and I didn't want to take up more room than I needed but he had surprised me one day when I got back home after spending the day with Katie and Ashlyn. He had gotten the room completely redone, repainted a really pretty purple color, putting up lots of shelves and bookcases. He had a beautiful desk set up for me to put my gaming setup on, a small couch, chair, and tv on the other wall.

(Because I'm extra I totally made a layout of the office so you can understand what it looks like in my mind 😂😂)

It was the second week of June now and I was planning on going back home to visit for my birthday on the 26th. I hadn't had a birthday yet that I didn't spend with my family, and I knew someday that would come but I wanted one more year with everyone.

I was sitting on the couch with my laptop open looking at plane tickets, another tab open looking at my bank account. I groaned at seeing how low the number was in there now, but thankfully because I left the apartment a month before I thought I was going to have to I still had some in there, but after getting plane tickets it wouldn't be too much.

Tyler walked over wearing just his swim trunks. He sat on the couch next to me and looked at the laptop. "Whatcha doin’?" he asked.

"Looking at plane tickets for my birthday," I said, not taking my attention away from the screen.

"Oh yeah that’s in a couple weeks!" He smiled, it faded after he realized I wouldn't be here for it. "Wait.. but don't you want to hang out with all of us for your birthday?"

"I can do that when I get back," I gave him a half smile, still not looking away from the screen, as I tried to decide what date would be best to go home.

He sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. He didn't say anything else but sighed again a minute later.

I laughed and lifted the laptop off my lap and put it on the coffee table. I turned, sitting sideways on the couch and faced him. "Yes Ty?" I asked, knowing that he wanted my attention. He had been awfully needy lately, which I enjoyed because it was adorable and meant that he wanted to spend even more time with me.

"Nothing.." He said not looking at me.

I smiled, not able to help it. He was so cute when he acted like this. It was like a little kid who wanted attention but didn't want to bother anyone. "Ty.."

"I don't want you to go," He finally admitted, looking over at me.

"I'll only be gone for a couple days," I said. "Four at most."

"Four?! That’s a lot," he said. "I'll be lonely."

I laughed and scooted over to him and wrapped my arm around him. He leaned against me and rested his head on my shoulder.

"Can I come with you?" He asked, looking up at me.

"You- you want to come home.. with me? To visit my family?" I asked, confused.

He just nodded, smiling at me.

I sighed, knowing what I would hear from my family. However It would be lots of fun to have Tyler there though.

"I'll pay for the room and plane tickets and everything."

"Ty.."

"Brooke come on. I want to see where you lived before here," he said, sitting up straight and grabbing my laptop.

I watched as he picked out two plane tickets and I just shook my head. I had learned to not bother trying to argue with Tyler since he always got his way anyways. "Fineeee," I said and he smiled as he booked the flights.

"Good! Now pick a hotel near where you live and pay for it with my card. I'm going to swim with the boys," he handed me my laptop and stood up, walking over to the back door and walked out towards the pool, the boys following close behind him.

I shook my head as I searched a few places that I knew of that were nicer. Thankfully there was still spaces left so I booked a room for us and closed the laptop. I grabbed my phone off the table and texted my mom to expect a guest with me.

Of course Tyler had decided to pick an early morning flight, saying that he wanted to get there earlier since there was a three hour drive from the airport. It was a good idea, but I didn't enjoy having to get up at 4 in the morning to make sure everything was packed and ready to go so we could get there with plenty of time to eat before we got on the plane.

We gave the puppies lots of hugs and kisses before leaving. They were use to Tyler leaving but I had been around so much lately it was weird to them to see me having a bag too.

We made the drive to the airport, checking our bags in and all the other "fun" stuff you have to do at the airport before heading over to see if we could find some food. We ended up settling on going to dunkin donuts and getting a couple breakfast sandwiches to eat while at the airport and we grabbed a couple doughnuts for the plane ride.

It didn't take long to get home, it probably also helped that I totally fell asleep on Tyler's shoulder, which at this point he was pretty use to since it would happen almost every night when we watched movies on the couch. He woke me up when we got to Boston and we walked out, headed towards the car rentals. He had already gotten this all set up, which I was glad about because he knew this city better than I did.

While Tyler was getting everything settled with the car I gave my mom a quick phone call to let her know that we had landed in Boston and would be up there in around 3 hours. The car ride had gone by pretty quickly, I was excited to see everyone, but also nervous as hell that Tyler was going to be meeting my family. I was glad that he had wanted to come though, it would make the trip a lot more fun, but I already knew what kind of questions I was going to get.

We got into town and went straight to the hotel so that we could check in and drop off our stuff before we headed to meet my parents for dinner, Tyler would meet the rest of the family tomorrow at the cookout for my birthday.

"Okay she said room 211," Tyler said as he handed me the spare room key card.

"Okay," I smiled as I started heading down the hallway towards the elevators. I lived in a smaller town, well actually it was a bunch of smaller towns put together into this one big area that people would visit. At first glance you wouldn't expect an area like this to have the main street lined with hotels but it was for sure a tourist area. The winter was good for the town because of how many ski mountains there were, summers were good for shoppers, and the fall was good because of the leaves changing colors. I had never understood it, I found it kind of boring living here. It was absolutely beautiful, scenery wise, but there just wasn't a lot to do. Well when you lived here your whole life it felt like there wasn't much to do, especially since most of my friends lived on the other side of the country.

I pushed the button for the elevator, the door opening up and both Tyler and I walked in, hitting the button for floor 4. It only took a few seconds to get up there before the doors opened up again and we walked out into the hallway. The signs led us to the right side of the hallway as we followed the room numbers down until we found 211.

I slid the key card into the lock and waited for it to turn green before I turned the handle. I walked in, flipping the switch for the lights and smiled. It was a very nice room. Tyler had told me to spend some extra money on it so we got one of the nicer ones since we would be here almost a whole week. I ended up getting one that had a separate bedroom from the sitting area and small kitchenette.

"This is nice!" He said as he followed in behind me, setting our bags by the door.

"Yeah," I smiled as I walked over and opened the door to the bedroom area. I fully expected to see two beds when I opened the door but there was only one.

I turned around to see if this was one of the rooms with another bedroom on the other side but there was no other door over there. I looked at Tyler and bit my lip. There must of been a mistake of some kind because I knew for sure I had picked one with two beds.

"Whats wrong?" He asked.

"Umm.. There’s.. only one bed," I said and stepped aside so he could see into the bedroom.

"Oh that’s okay," he smiled and walked in, turning the lights on in there and checking out the bathroom.

"You sure? Because I know I booked a room with two beds, I could go talk to the lady-"

"Brooke we have slept in the same bed before don't start acting all weird about it again," he said as he came back around the corner.

"Okay," I smiled at him and turned to grab our bags and bring them into the bedroom.

After we had relaxed at the room for a few minutes I got a text from my mom saying that her and my dad were on the way to the restaurant. Tyler and I changed into nicer clothes since traveling all day he had just worn a t shirt and basketball shorts while I had a pair of leggings and a t shirt on.

After changing we made our way out to the car and drove over to where the restaurant was. We pulled into the parking lot, not seeing a car that resembled either of my parents cars I figured that they probably would get here in a few minutes.

"Okay so.." I sighed, looking over to Tyler.

He could tell that I was nervous so he reached his hand out and grabbed mine and smiled at me. His smile always made me feel better no matter what.

"It's going to be okay just breath," he said and laughed a bit.

I laughed with him and nodded "I know. I just wanted to pre-warn you is all. I never dated anyone from around here. Just not really my type of guys, plus I gave up on people around here they were all too flaky for me. All of my relationships, even friends, were pretty much long distance up until moving down to Dallas. So my mom will be fine, but my dad has the whole protective 'who are you and why are you hanging out with my daughter' sort of thing. Granted you'll get it less bad because we aren't together and are just friends, but don't be surprised if he tries to assume otherwise," I rambled, already rolling my eyes.

"It's fine," Tyler smiled, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. He always knew how to comfort me, which I appreciated a lot about our friendship.

After a few minutes I saw my parents pull into the parking lot. Tyler and I got out of the car and walked over towards the entrance, meeting my parents there. I gave both of my parents a big hug and then stepped back to stand next to Tyler. I was trying really hard to not be nervous about this. I mean my mom had heard me talk about Tyler back when I still lived at home and had never met him. He was the reason why I started watching the Dallas Stars in the first place. Then when my dad had found out I started watching hockey he had given me crap for it saying there must be some hot guy that was why I watched, which wasn't true! I love the game of hockey its just a bonus that there are hot guys. It just was a tad awkward because he knew this was the same Tyler as the one he had teased me about and now here I was standing with him about to introduce them. Of course I knew I was being silly to be a nervous about this, but it was going to be okay just like Tyler said.

"Mom, Dad this is Tyler," I smiled "Tyler this is my mom Samantha, and this is my dad Charles."

"Very nice to meet you both," he said and shook their hands.

"It's so nice to finally meet you as well," My mom smiled at Tyler and my dad just nodded.

"Alright lets go in," I said and walked into the restaurant.

The dinner was nice, and after a few minutes I wasn't as nervous as I was before. My parents didn't embarrass me and they didn't ask him too many questions which I was thankful for. It actually seemed like my dad and Tyler got along really well which I was glad about.

"So we will see you around 3 tomorrow?" My mom asked as I gave her a hug bye.

"Yeah I wanted to show him around for a little while tomorrow before we head over for the cookout."

"Yeah I told everyone else to come over around 4ish."

"How many people did you invite?"

"Same as every year."

"Okay," I smiled. We all said our goodbyes and Tyler and I walked back over to the rental car.

"See that wasn't that bad," Tyler said once we were in the car.

"I know. I knew it wouldn't be but I over think things sometimes."

"Sometimes?" He laughed and I shook my head.

"Yes sometimes!" I laughed with him. I was glad that things had gone well tonight. I was just hoping tomorrow would go as well.

We made our way back to the hotel and to our room. Normally we wouldn't go to bed for a while, but we were exhausted from traveling all day. We put on a couple movies on the living room TV and ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours before we woke up and moved to the bed.

The next morning Tyler and I got ready and I showed him around town. We stopped by a couple of my favorite stores before grabbing a bite to eat at a cute local breakfast place. Tyler and I both got french toast which looked so good when they brought it out.

"Wheres the syrup?" Tyler asked, noticing there was none on the table.

"Oh hold on," I said and motioned for the waitress. "Hi can we get some maple syrup?"

"Sure sweetie, let me go grab that for you," she smiled and walked back out to the kitchen for a moment before returning with two cute tiny bottles and set them on the table.

"Thank you," I said and grabbed one of them.

"That’s it?" Tyler asked, picking up the bottle.

"Look at the label silly," I smiled at him.

"Whoa you guys have real maple syrup here?!"

"Yes," I smiled "Real maple syrup exists up here. We also have moose," I laughed.

"Are you sure we aren't in Canada?" He laughed as he poured the maple syrup over his french toast.

"Pretty close actually, we are only like two hours away."

"Oooh that makes sense," He smiled as he took a bite. "Mmm I haven't had real maple syrup in so long, this is so much better than the fake shit down in Texas," he laughed.

"I know we'll have to get some and ship it home before we leave."

Tyler just nodded as he kept eating his breakfast. For the rest of the morning we walked around a couple more shops, stopping at the tattoo shop in the middle of the town, it was owned by a friend and the tattoo artist that had done all of my tattoos so far.

"Brooke?!" Jess gasped as she looked up from tattooing.

"Jess!" I smiled and walked over to the little window that lead into her separate tattooing station.

"How are you? I thought you moved!" She said as she went back to tattooing.

"Oh I did but I'm back for my birthday," I smiled.

"Oh nice!" She said. "I have an opening tomorrow if you want to do your traditional birthday tattoo since you are home," she said, looking up to me.

"You do?!" I figured she would be booked so I hadn't even bothered, plus with the money situation I was in it probably was better that I didn't. It was so tempting though, I had gotten a tattoo every year on my birthday since I was 18. I had only missed one year because of not having a job at the time.

"Yeah, you can set up an appointment if you want."

"Hmm I might.." I said looking over to Tyler.

"Oh! Jess this is Tyler, Tyler this is Jess shes done all my tattoos," I smiled.

"Very nice to meet you!" Jess smiled at him.

"You too! Your work is beautiful by the way."

"Aw thank you!"

"Alright well I'm going to think about it and I'll stop back in later today before we head to my parents and let you know."

"Okay I'll be here," Jess said and we both waved bye to each other.

"You should get one," Tyler said as we walked out the door.

"I know I really want one," I sighed. I loved getting tattoos but the price I did not like.

"Why don't you?"

"Its not cheap, I'm sure you know that very well," I laughed, looking at his arms that were completely covered.

"I know but I haven't gotten you a birthday present yet," he smiled, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"What? Ty no! What is all of this? You paid for this whole trip just for my birthday, that's plenty for a gift," I looked up at him and he just shook his head.

"That's not a gift silly."

"Ty you spend way too much money on me," I sighed and leaned against him as we walked down the street.

"No I don't. Plus I like to, you deserve it for putting up with my crazy ass."

"True.." I laughed "I just feel bad."

"Why?" he asked, looking down at me.

"Because I can't buy you things for your birthday or do any of the things you do for me. That’s not really fair," I said looking up at him, meeting his eyes.

"Your company is enough," he smiled and kissed my forehead.

I blushed a bit and wrapped both of my arms around him as we kept walking. "You're too sweet to me."

"Nah, you deserve so much more."

Tyler had been acting different lately, more clingy and flirty with me. I appreciated it a lot and enjoyed it but I wasn't sure where it was coming from. I wasn't going to bring it up though I was just going to enjoy it while it lasted.

For a half an hour Tyler and I just sat in the grass field that was by the park and next to the small train station that was in town. The train had use to run from here all the way down to Boston back in the day when they would trade things back in forth but now it just ran to the next town over, more of a scenery train ride.

He had finally convinced me to get a tattoo while I was here, saying it wasn't a big deal and he didn't care how much it cost he just wanted to do that for me, to keep the tradition alive, as well as he knew how happy it was going to make it. I had argued with him for a good 20 minutes but he wasn't going to give up. I loved that my friends were always so amazing and got me things when they really didn't have to, but I always felt bad when they would spend money on me because I felt like I could never repay them. They would then always remind me of the great Christmas presents I sound out every year that are hand made and thoughtful, and I wasn't allowed to argue. It seemed like Tyler was going to be added to that list of friends.

"Okay okay fine lets go back and set it up since you wont let it go," I laughed and stood up, holding my hand out for him.

"Thank you!" He smiled and took my hand and stood up. We walked over to the tattoo shop and I set up an appointment with her for tomorrow around 4. She asked if I had an idea of what I was going to get and I told her that I had a paw print from my first dog, Hunter, and I wanted to get that tattooed on my left ankle with the year he was born and the year he had passed.

After we finished there we headed to my parents house, it was nearing 2:30 and we had kind of run out of things to go look at right now anyways. We pulled up, my grandma's car was already here. She always showed up to these things early because she always insisted on helping my mom with making the salads or whatever else she need.

"You're house is great!" Tyler smiled as we walked up the driveway and inside.

"Thanks," I said and opened the door. We walked up the stairs and was greeted by the crazy dog my mom had gotten my dad and I as a gift two Christmases ago.

"Hey crazy!" I laughed and bent down to pet him.

"Aw is this Remi?" Tyler asked as he got attacked with kisses.

I laughed and stood up "Yeah thats him."

"He reminds me of Gerry," Tyler smiled and stood up.

"Remi is actually only 6 months older than Gerry is," I said as we walked into the kitchen.

"Oh no way, that's cool."

"Yeah.. Hey mom, hey gram," I smiled at them both. "Gram this is Tyler, Tyler this is my grandma Cathy."

"Nice to meet you," Tyler smiled and reached out his hand.

"You too," My gram said and shook his hand.

"Wheres dad?"

"He's outside starting the fire," my mom said.

"Okay well I'm gonna head outside unless you need any help."

"No I think we are good in here," She said and turned to grab something out of the fridge.

"Alright we'll be outside then," I said and walked out the backdoor with Tyler.

We hung out in the backyard for a bit, a few family members showing up here and there. The introductions were pretty simple and had been going well. No one had embarrassed me yet so that was good.

I was sitting in one of the lawn chairs under the small tent that was set up to keep the sun off us. It was a hotter day out but not too hot thankfully.

"Happy birthday Brookie," I heard a voice from behind me. I turned my head around and smiled.

"Hey Jesse!" I said standing up to give my older cousin a hug.

Tyler stood up next to me waiting to be introduced to another family member of mine. "Tyler this is my cousin Jesse, Jesse this is-"

"Tyler Seguin, yeah I know who he is," he smiled, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Tyler just looked at me. I laughed "He uh watches hockey, well he plays hockey too. Locally," I said, explaining.

"Oh cool!" Tyler said.

"You did too," Jesse said.

"What?!" Tyler exclaimed looking over at me, his eyes wide and questioning.

I hid half my face with my hand and looked away. "He.. wasn't suppose to know that," I said softly and my cousin just laughed and walked over to talk to my dad.

"You played?!"

"Only for like one season," I said, finally looking up at him.

"How come you never told me that?" Tyler asked as we sat back down in the chairs.

"Well.. I wasn't super great so I didn't think it really mattered?" I half asked half explained.

"No that's really cool that you played. Have you thought of playing again down in Dallas somewhere? There is a womens league there too."

"Oh.. I dunno about that.. maybe," I said, blushing a bit.

"Aw come on I bet you are great," he said. "I can't believe you didn't tell me that thought," he laughed and I nodded.

"I mean I knew that eventually you would find out."

"So when did you play?"

"Last year before I moved to Dallas."

"That’s cool!"

"Yeah. I had wanted to play when I was little but never ended up getting into it for whatever reason. And then when I got older was when I got into watching NHL because of one of my friends, and I actually ended up accidentally getting myself into playing hockey.. only I could accidentally do that," I laughed shaking my head.

"Accidentally? Okay I need to hear that story," Tyler said, leaning back against his chair and watching my face.

"Okay so I use to work at a retail store in town and it was towards the end of the regular season, sadly you guys hadn't gotten into the playoffs. Anyways so I was at work one night with one of the ladies I worked with and we were talking about something and then I made a comment that I was sad. She asked me why I was sad so I told her that I was sad because hockey was over, obviously I watched the playoffs but I wasn't as invested in it at the start because you guys weren't in it. So then we started talking about that but halfway into the conversation I realized she had thought I was talking about me, like I played hockey and the season was over. So I told her no I meant the NHL. She told me that at her other job she worked with a few girls that were on the womens league so she figured I might of been too. I told her no, I would like to play, but I don't know how to skate. So a couple weeks go by and I work with her again one night and she randomly tells me that she had worked with the girl that's on the womens league and she asked her if they taught people how to skate. She said that they did, they got a number of people in that didn't know how to skate and they would be willing to teach me if I wanted and asked if she wanted to get me information from her. So I said sure, thinking it was kind of funny that somehow I accidentally got myself into this but why not go with it. So the next night I worked with her again and she walks over to me and hands me this sticky note with a ladies name on it and her email address and says shes the one who runs the womens league and to send an email about it. So then I sent her an email the next day and she responded telling me that she was on vacation and the season had ended but we should get me outfitted and ready for fall.. So yeah that's how I accidentally started playing hockey," I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous the story sounded but had all happened.

"That is the best story I have ever heard," Tyler laughed with me.

"Yeah it was pretty funny at the time, that was shortly after I had met Ashlyn and she couldn't believe I had managed that somehow. But it was a lot of fun though, I enjoyed it."

Tyler just smiled and nodded. He had that look on his face that he always had when he got an idea. That worried me, knowing him and his ideas, but I didn't dare ask.

The rest of the night went well, lots of really good food, and some cake. Some cute birthday cards and a couple presents. It was a nice relaxing time and everyone had invited Tyler into all the conversations which was nice. After everyone had left Tyler and I hung out for a little bit longer before we headed back to the hotel. I had decided to take a shower before heading to bed. When I walked out of the bathroom I smiled seeing that Tyler was already passed out on the bed.

I walked over to the bed and crawled in as gently as I could so I didn't disturb him. I wiggled under the covers and moved over near him. Before I could even rest my head on the pillow I felt Tyler's arms wrap around me and pull me closer to him. I looked up to see if he had woken up and his eyes fluttered for a second before closing again, going back to sleep. I rested my head on his chest and slowly fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

#nhl fanfic #tyler seguin #alexander radulov #dallas stars #how did this happen #how did this happen part 10 #first person perspective

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zillyeh · 3 years

Text

Storm Season (3/???)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 3545

Content warning: Implications of a less than healthy relationship, baby M*djug

Synopsis: After having worked for Miles for a few solid weeks, an old... friend of Voss' pops up unexpectedly. No not that one, older than that. Well. Yeah actually that one too.

Google Doc

The winter over Delhon snapped hard into the negatives, but that didn’t stop Voss from walking nearly everywhere. The only thing that could possibly do that would be, say, having a car.

Evidently the weather didn’t stop many others either. Bundled up highbloods and lowbloods alike waddled along the sidewalk, hurriedly as possible without breaking their necks on the ice.

Voss, more than anything, wanted to be home. Sure his apartment sucked ass and leaked heat like it was its job, but it was a shit ton better than being outside. He’d be passing by Miles’ cafe on his way, but he didn’t exactly have enough expendable income at the moment to justify it. Yet. God rich people were shit at tipping. Even if he did tend to get better tables.

He had coffee at home, though. He’d be fine. The cigarette between his lips would keep him warm enough.

“Voss?” A familiar voice called from behind him. He almost wasn’t sure he heard right. That couldn’t possibly be… “Hey Voss!”

His footsteps fell heavy behind Voss, catching up to him easily with his longer legs.

“Dosie?” Voss asked incredulously, moving his half done cig between his fingers.

“Hey, long time no see!” Dosiro beamed, adorably bundled up with his teal scarf and dark trenchcoat. He looked almost exactly the same- hard jawed and sharp toothed- though he’d grown something of a beard since Voss last had anything to do with that face.

“H- heh, yeah, wild. Four sweeps now or something? Fleet really eats up your time.”

“Shit, yeah I almost forgot about that- uh, are you just back, or-?”

“Yeah, kinda, been almost a month-” Annoyed trolls hurried past them, both of them having slowed down significantly. “Uh, Dosie, maybe this isn’t the best place to have, like, our reunion-”

“Oh, yeah, right, uh-” Dosiro picked up the pace, putting an overly familiar hand on Voss’ shoulders. “There’s a cafe down the street that I was already- I mean if you’re not busy-”

“Oh I am not busy, believe me.” Voss said, wondering when the hell his luck was going to run dry. “You can take me absolutely wherever.”

Dosiro rushed him to the very same cafe he’d been in with Miles not too long ago. The smell of caffeine and the near volcanic warmth it brought improved Voss' mood almost instantly.

Dosie preferred the table by the window, but furthest from the door. He excitedly threw off his outer layer, still just as curved in all Voss' favorite places- and unwilling to wear anything that wouldn't show it- as Voss remembered him being. Even in his work button up. Voschi was more reluctant to relieve himself of his miserable outer layer. God he needed a new jacket bad, but one even half as nice as Dosiro’s big detective coat would cost money money.

“So, nice to see you again.” Dosiro said, his teal eyes bright with an excitement almost genuine enough to make Voss blush.

“Could say the same about you.” Voss said, a little smile perking up the corners of his mouth. How much of a mess must he look like right now? He sure felt like one, even if his Gilded Palace uniform was the nicest thing he owned. “You look good, D.”

“Aw thanks, Voschi.” Dosiro’s smile was more than infectious.

“Hate to interrupt, gentlemen,” Interrupted a waitress, “But can I get you two something to- Oh it’s you.” The goldblood’s face dropped more than was professional, but immediately picked back up when she remembered who Voss was usually in here with.

“You know you missed me.” Voss said with a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes.

“Usual, then?” She huffed. One of these nights Voss was going to learn her name. He nodded, then paused.

“I’m good on the muffin.” He said with a shrug.

“You sure?” Dosiro asked, an appraising eyebrow raised. “You look like you could use it.”

“Only if you’re paying for this.” Voss said with a bat of his eyes. Dosiro laughed.

“Of course, I forced you in here, didn’t I?”

“Forced is strong, but not incorrect. Muffin then.”

“Great.” Their waitress said through gritted teeth. “For you?”

“Uh, black coffee is fine. Actually I kind of want a muffin too now that you mention it? Whatever he’s having.”

“Oka-”

“Not whatever he’s having.” Voss said, putting up a hand “You’re still allergic to blueberries, right?”

“I- you remembered- yeah, uh, banana then.” The waitress scribbled that down a little rougher than necessary, and forced a smile at the both of them.

“Be right back.” She said, turning on her heel.

“Come here a lot, huh Voss?” Dosiro teased.

“Been here a few times. Never on my own dime though.”

“Right back into dating then, huh?” His tone was still light, but Voss could sense some coolness behind it. Oh what was that? It couldn’t possibly have been a touch of jealousy, not for Voss’ sake. That was never Dosiro’s thing.

“Something like that.” Voss said airily, rolling one of the cream cups on the table between his fingers. Dosiro seemed to expect some elaboration on that. He didn’t receive it. Nor did he deserve it.

“How’s life been treating you down here?” Voss asked instead, taking a real good look at him. “You look both more and less like a cop now.”

“Senior Detective Dosiro Hemoni at your service.” Dosiro said, tipping an invisible hat.

“Oh no shit huh? Congrats, Dosie.” Voss grinned lopsidedly. “I always figured you’d claw your way up the ranks eventually. Would’ve sent you a card or something if I heard about it.”

“Haha, well, wasn’t easy, y’know.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “I, uh, never thought I’d actually see you again Chichi.” Hearing his old nickname made something warm up in Voss’ gut, but not the same way Dosiro’s pet names used to. In a way, it burned.

“Don’t… I, uh wasn’t supposed to come back.” Voss said, looking out the window at the small spits of snow falling from the sky. “I guess I got lucky, if you could call it that.”

“I mean, I’m glad you’re around again. So, uh what’re you doing with yourself these nights? Like, work wise?”

“Oh y’know… Uh, bullshit.” Voss shrugged, leaning his face on his palm. “Met a guy who hooked me up with a… decent enough gig. Waiting tables at some fancy ass place a few blocks over.”

“Oof, you? Waiting tables?” Dosiro tapped his fingers against his chin in a way that was… uneasily familiar. Voss couldn’t quite remember why.

“Eh, I get good enough tips cause I’m cute.” It was… something, even if the clink of silverware and plates rattled his head.

“Heh. That big obnoxious lookin’ place up on Cyan?” Voss nodded. “Well damn, I’ve never actually even been inside. Er, as a customer. You got someone to hook you up with a job in there?”

“This face works wonders, Dosie.” Voss grinned, poking his fingers into his dimples. “You of all people should know how that works.” Dosiro snorted, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. How many times had Dosie smiled and winked to get Voss to drop everything and go looking through files? Evidence? Other people's desks? Probably more than Voss was willing to admit to falling for, honestly.

“But, uh, yeah.” Voss continued, not wanting to dwell on their past too long. “Guy knows a guy… if he’s not the one who owns the place.” He still wasn’t sure on that one. Could be either. Both.

“That’s not a little sus, Voss?” Dosiro snorted, amused but definitely hiding… something. Concern maybe?

Hopefully?

“Aww, worried about me, Dosie?” Voss grinned. “Don’t be I can take care of myself.”

“I- I dunno Voss,” Dosie said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve never known anyone to just give people… well, anything really without expecting something back.”

“Maybe that’s just a you thing.” Voss shot with more ice than he meant to. Ugh, Dosiro had a point but…

Miles was holding out on whatever it was he wanted from Voss. It’s not like he hadn’t considered that possibility, he wasn’t that stupid and infatuated with the man. Though he did have an awfully bad track record…

Dosiro winced, his leg beginning to bounce under the table. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see their waitress. It was so busy in the cafe that they’d be lucky if their orders came tonight.

“Uh, right. Sorry.” Dosiro cleared his throat and sat up a little. “I- I dunno, I just don’t wanna see you hurt. Who is this guy anyway?”

“Who says he’s gonna hurt me?” Voss asked, squinting at him. There was something off about his fidgety-ness. The way he kept pretending he wasn’t looking at his watch. “I can’t think of a single thing I wouldn’t let- I mean, he’s nice, Dosie. Nicer than the fuckin’ Empire, that’s for sure. His name’s Aarika. Rich ass jadeblood.”

“Really?” Dosiro asked, some light that Voss didn’t trust coming on in his eyes. “Like… fish rich?”

“Mhm probably if his hive is anything to go by…” Voss let that one fester, watching that light in Dosiro’s eyes flicker before he continued. “He’s got the prettiest eyes too.” Voss sighed dreamily. Partially to punctuate, partially because thinking of Miles for any amount of time made him feel… Giddy, almost. Clearly this had the opposite effect on Dosiro.

“Voss, listen I know you’re-”

“I’m.” Voss dared, only imagining the places Dosiro would go with that thought. Clearly it wasn’t anywhere nice as he paused and rethought his sentence.

“I know you’re… des- down on your luck.The fleet does that to you. But you’re trusting, and sweet on anyone who’s nice to you. It’s almost your best and worst quality.”

“You seemed to be an awful big fan back in the day.” Voss eyed him with suspicion. And annoyance. Dosiro sighed and glanced at his watch again, then out the window over Voschi’s shoulder. Something he saw made color rush to his cheeks.

“Listen, Voss, you know I care about you, right?” He said quickly, leaning in. “I always have. Which is why we-”

The door to the cafe jingled open, and in entered another, skinnier tealblood, flushed by the harsh cold outside.

“Dos!” He called, catching Dosiro’s eye when he looked over his shoulder. Dosiro groaned and swore under his breath.

“Friend of yours?” Voss asked as the new teal wordlessly invited himself to their table, pulling up a chair to the empty side.

“Voss this is Jug.” Dosiro said, somewhat pained, “My, uh, partner.”

“Jug.” Voss repeated, taking the cold gloved hand Jug so eagerly extended to him.

“Detective Medjug Albath.” Jug corrected. He was uncomfortably… familiar looking. Tall, but probably shorter than Dosiro still, neatly coiffed black hair- though his had streaks of teal at the temples- double spiked horns, skinny but still muscular somewhere underneath his layers. Even down to the, albeit much sparser, dusting of freckles. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror. Aside from the glasses.

“Ex-Imperial Officer Voschi Horjan, if we’re doing the full title thing.” Voss shot an accusatory look to Dosiro, who looked like he could melt into the cafe’s pristine tiles.

“Oh there’s another one of you. Great.” Their waitress returned finally, happy as ever. She slid Voss’ latte and muffin in front of him carefully, Dosiro’s not so much. “Do you need anything, or-”

“No ma’am.” Jug said quickly, sliding his rectangular glasses up his nose. “I’m fine, and might I just say-”

“No you might not. If you need anything else just holler, Mr. Horjan.”

She was gone again faster than Voschi could say “fine.” Jug attentively watched Dosiro pour sugar into his coffee for a moment before turning to Voschi.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He said, undoing the buttons of his coat.

“No you haven’t.” Dosiro shot through a clenched jaw. He worriedly looked to Voss, who had already started to withdraw from the conversation. He certainly wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Me?” Voss asked, pressing a hand to his chest. “Why whatever for?”

“Well Detective Hemoni moans an awful lot about missing having a-” Dosiro shot Jug a look that could melt the snow drifts outside. “Er, a friend in the more stuffy paperwork oriented side of things.”

“I’m sure he does.” Voss said cooly, admiring the cartoony tiger face the barista made in his foam. “You haven’t found another prettyboy to charm in the evidence room after all this time? Or the DA's office?”

“I uh-�� Dosiro opted to tug on his coffee instead of answering. His leg shook under the table, reminding Voss just how bad a liar he was. He’d let it slide so many times…

“Mhm.” Voss hummed, bitterness rising in him even despite the sweetness of his drink. “So were you just walking by here and happened to see us, Detective Albath, or..?” Dosiro shot him a look. One that Voss wasn’t meant to catch, but of course he did.

“Oh, uh yeah, actually.” Jug nodded, an even worse liar. How were these two detectives again? “I wanted to make- to uh, go over some urgent c-case things.”

“Do you do that whenever you see your partner on what could be a date through a window or do you just not have a phone?” Jug swallowed. Dosiro glared at him. Voss waited expectantly, sipping on his latte even though it was still a touch too hot.

“Voss, c’mon…” Dosiro started guiltily. “I- this isn’t about-”

“Dos you fucking suck. What do you want from me?”

“I thought you would have gotten to the point by now, Hemoni.” Jug started, rising from his seat. “My apologies, I can just-”

“You stay.” Dosiro and Voschi said at the same time, not looking away from each other. Voss was definitely winning their stare down. He had more hate in his eyes than Dosiro was capable of.

“Alright, fine, I’ve known you were in town since the day you landed. Happy?”

“What do you think?” Voss should have known better. He should have known better sweeps ago, but he couldn’t help himself then. Fortunately he was a lot meaner now. “I can’t fucking believe- no I can. Of course I can. Because it’s you. What can I do for you, detectives? You have until I finish this.”

“I’m concerned about you, Chichi.” Dosiro pleaded, leg still bouncing under the table.

“Call me Chichi again and I leave immediately.” Voss said, narrowing his eyes. “Chatterbox, what’s happening here?” Jug looked to Dosiro for approval, not exactly receiving it, but not being given any other instruction either.

“We do have, er, concerns, Mr. Horjan.”

“About?”

“Voss before he-”

“You know what, Hemoni? You can call me Mr. Horjan too. I’m starting to like how it sounds.” Dosiro blinked, not used to this much hostility- not from Voss anyway. Jug fumbled for a manilla folder from the inner pockets of his jacket.

“We- uh- caught wind of your… new association with a, erm, person of interest in one of our cases.” Jug said, readjusting his glasses on his nose. Again.

“Okay.” Voss’ intensity seemed to make the poor skittish tealblood even more nervous.

“We were… Um… Well, detective Hemoni thought… that… help… please...”

“Look, Voschi,” Dosiro said, leaning in across the table, lowering his voice. “I mean it when I say that I’m worried about you, you have to know that. This guy Aarika- allegedly- has been seeking out ex-fleets to recruit into his gang. He knows the ones that come back here have to be some kind of desperate-”

That word struck a nerve in Voschi’s scrambled head- so hard that he didn’t even realise he’d kicked Dosiro in the shin until he yelped. Jug jumped about half a mile. Voss’ eye twitched as he leaned back further in his chair.

“Sorry.” Voss said, not even bothering to pretend to be. “Foot slipped.”

“Alright, maybe I deserved that.” Dosiro winced. “And more, I know, but can you listen to me? Please? I cannot stress enough how important this is.”

Voss "relaxed" in his seat, biting the top of his muffin like an apple. Dosiro sighed and took Jug’s hefty file, plucking out a blurry, but still recognizable picture of Miles. Voss actually felt his heart skip a bit.

“This guy, Voss.” He said, tapping the photo on the table. “Amillo Aarika, head of the Divinity Cl-”

“I know who he is, Dosiro.” Voss huffed. “He told me that much.”

“Did he tell you anything el- you said you were in his- no I’m getting ahead of myself.” Even despite Voss’ clear sour disposition he couldn’t help but go straight into detective mode. The restraint he must have had to hold it back this long… He wanted to catch the bad guy more than he gave a shit about him.

What else was new?

“We have reason to believe that- uh Mr. Aarika is also involved in a massive organized crime operation in Delhon.” Jug interjected. “And that, er, you may be in danger, physically speaking.”

“Oh really?” Voss said, turning the photo over in his hand. This was awfully recent… And… in fact… that grey outfit… That street corner...

“There’s no evidence of any sort of, er, trafficking, Mr. Horjan.” Jug nodded. “In fact, the city’s been better than in sweeps in that regard as of late.” Voss was going to shove those stupid glasses into his eyes if he kept messing with them.

“Is he gonna eat me?” Voss asked disinterestedly. Jug was doing an awfully piss poor job of making a potential criminal sound dangerous. Maybe it was because Milo was far more endearing. “Cause I’d probably let him.” Dosiro groaned into his coffee cup.

“Er-”

“Voss, he grooms ex fleets and whoever into… whatever he needs. Drug dealers, thieves, hell we’ve even linked assassins to-”

“Potentially linked.” Jug corrected.

“Ugh, do you think I have it in me to kill anyone?” Voss groaned. Sure he did, but… Being paid for it would take some of the magic away. Plus, since he’d been home? That part of him felt like a completely different person. Escaped when his skull had been cracked apart.

“I know you don’t Voschi.” Dosiro sighed. “You’re… fragile.”

“We, er, may need you to, though.” Jug said, very matter of factly. Voss nearly choked on his muffin.

“Excuse me?”

“Jug, don’t-”

“We have other, more pressing cases to work today, Hemoni.” Jug huffed, some confidence in himself found. “We can’t just sit here beating around the bush all night for your pet project.”

“What do you-” Voss stopped himself, glaring at a guilty, guilty looking Dosiro.

“You want me to keep going along with this.” He breathed. “Oh my god, so much for being concerned about my safety-”

“Voss, please calm down-”

“Don’t you have officers for that? Like actual trained people who are meant to-”

“Mr. Horjan you have to understand that Mr. Aarika- allegedly- has a certain… hold over Delhon’s police department. Contracting outside assistance is, perhaps, our only option at this point.” Voss shook his head incredulously at the both of them.

“Mr. Aarika gave me a job.” Voss hissed. “One that’s far less likely to fucking kill me than outsourced undercover work.”

“That’s his first step, Voschi!” Dosiro exclaimed, frustrated, “What don’t you get about that? He’s not being nice to you because he likes you, he’s being nice to you because this is his game. It's the first step to using you to get what he wants.”

“Oh, what could being used possibly be like?” Voss seethed. “What a horrible new experience for me!” Dosiro opened his mouth to respond, but Jug swooped in to calm him down.

“Mr. Horjan, please, people are starting to… look.” Voss made accidental furious eye contact with their waitress, who promptly turned on her heel and marched to the back.

“And we aren’t asking for much, in all honesty.” Jug continued.

“Aren’t you, though?” Voss hadn’t felt this mad since before he’d gone comatose. Had he ever been this mad, actually? His memory was foggy, but fury like this just wasn’t him. He was a simmer, a pot that never quite boiled over. Not like he wanted to right now.

“No, we just- just continue doing what you’re doing, and report anything suspicious or outwardly criminal to one of us. Take pictures, be nosy… If it ends up being nothing…”

“Which it won’t.” Dosiro muttered. Jug produced a smart looking business card from his pocket, sliding it across the table to Voss.

“Think about it, won’t you? You’ll get as much protection as we can offer, as well as payment, obviously.”

“Hm. No.” Voss threw the last of his muffin in his mouth, washing it down with the rest of his latte. He left that card sitting there as he stood.

“Both of you can shove it up your ass. Together, maybe! You especially can eat shit, Hemoni. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you actually missed me.”

Voss zipped his jacket back up, storming back into the frigid cold air. Fortunately this time he had his rage to keep him warm.

#Zilly drabbles #okay if u read only one of these that im dumping read this one its my favorite #Voschi tag #Voschi Horjan #Medjug tag #Medjug Albath #Dosiro #am i done for now? Maybe. maybe not #who is to say

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gohyuck · 7 years

Text

day one

>>STARTING SCREEN

>>RETURN TO MAIN MENU

Your headset is maladjusted. At least, that’s the most likely source of your current inability to see or hear anything. Tampering with it for mere seconds proves your inference, as everything hits you at once not moments later.

>>WELCOME PLAYER#UDREAM127

There’s light. You open your eyes.

Blink, blink. Everything’s bleary.

>>IF NECESSARY - PICK UP GLASSES OFF NIGHTSTAND

Your glasses are where they always are in your own house. Rather haphazardly you shove them on.

>>IF PERFECT VISION - BLINK AGAIN

Blink.

The first thing you notice is that you’re lying in bed. The sheets are white and the blanket is purple. Not necessarily your favorite colors, but they’ll do. The curtains of the window beside your bed are spread wide open. Birdsong is faint, but audible past the glass.

Blaring screeches from the alarm clock at your bedside drag you out of your thoughts. You wince - even here, in the perfect world, you evidently can’t get a break. Reaching out your hand you smack the nearest surface, hoping that it’s the clock.

No such luck - the table corner is sure to leave a mark in your palm, though. You groan in pain at the same time the sounds from the alarm clock become more panicked. Turning over almost frantically, you turn it off.

Silence.

Thank goodness.

Throwing the covers off, you slide out of bed. Stretch. Your whole body creaks, pops resonating in your ears. There’s a full length mirror on what must be the closet door.

You’re completely naked. Pulling open the door you find what could, if not for its placement in the house and absence of seating, be mistaken for the living room. The clothing selection is massive, and for a moment you’re dumbstruck.

You’d joined the game due to the pressure from your friends, preparing yourself to be immensely disappointed. For the first time, however, you consider that if the choices of something as trivial as fashion are so well thought out, maybe you can have it all in the game.

>>CHOOSE YOUR CLOTHING - WISELY

The “wisely” strikes a chord in you, making you uncomfortable for a split second. You shake it off - it probably means nothing. Quickly choosing clothes, you head for the bathroom. It’s fully equipped, clean toothbrush and unopened toothpaste included. Thankfully. You finish everything you have to, even taking a short shower.

>>CHOOSE RIVINA BODYWASH

Opening the tube, you smell something fainly metallic. It’s gone as soon as it was there, however, and you’re sure you imagined it. No matter - it’s just a game. It’s probably getting close to breakfast for you in real time, anyways - you’ll have to save and leave soon. Pushing all thoughts out of your mind, you squeeze the bodywash onto a nearby loofah, trying to relax.

Why are you so on edge all the time? You chalk it up to stress. Dinner clouds your mind again.

>>CHOOSE NICOTIANA BODYWASH

It’s fragrant, albeit a bit strong. Too strong. As far as you know, however, nobody else is in the house but you, so it doesn’t really matter. You can smell as flowery or as unflowery as you want. You slather it on, worrying, rather, about your morning meal in your real life. You’re hungry. You should just save and come back after eating.

Maybe you’ll just have breakfast here.

You change into the clothes you picked - they’re nicer than any you’ve ever owned in real life. You’re also sure you smell better than you ever have before - maybe your friends really were right. Begrudgingly, you allow yourself to entertain that thought.

Just as you’re about to make yourself a bowl of cereal - basic, you know, but you’re totally starving - the doorbell rings.

You sigh.

The gallon jar of milk returns to the fridge.

The hallway between the kitchen and the front door is longer than expected. Then again, you hadn’t expected a hallway at all. You don’t have one in real life. Pondering this, you swing open the door, only to find yourself face to face with who is quite possibly the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen leaning against your doorframe nonchalantly.

His face is rounded, but jaw is chiseled. His hair reminds you, vaguely, of noodles, but he pulls it off gracefully. Have you ever met anyone pull off a perm gracefully before? You don’t think so. His body is lean, lithe, and relaxed. There are specks of light in his eyes and they, which are framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows, are rivaled only by the soft curve of his lips.

>>SHORT CIRCUIT - IMMEDIATELY

“Um...”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. You pause, only to speak again a second later.

“Uh...um.”

You’ve baffled him with your intellect already. Good going.

Luckily, he finds it endearing... or amusing. You aren’t quite sure. You don’t think you want to know. He pulls a hand out from within his hoodie’s pocket, extending it out for you to shake. You do.

“I’m Mark, your neighbor. I figured I’d say hi, or something.” He’s younger than you initially pinned him as, you realize. His age can’t be too far from yours, older or younger.

“I’m (Y/N). I just uh...I just got here.” You blink. He blinks back, more owlishly than you. “Oh! Come inside. It’s not messy yet since I haven’t really...”

“Messed it up yet?” One corner of his lips turns up, and you, blushing, look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He pushes off of the doorframe, following you in. You lead him to the kitchen.

“Have you had breakfast yet, Mark? I was just about to have some cereal and if you want I can grab a bowl for you, too.”

His cheeks redden just slightly before he gives you the go-ahead. It’s cute, you smile to yourself, that he’s embarrassed about having someone else do something for him, even if they’re just giving him cereal.

“Take a seat at the counter, then.”

“I usually have breakfast before harassing the neighbors,” Mark sheepishly grins as he moves the stool back. “Just woke up late this morning and figured saying hi was the priority.”

“Fine by me. Now I have someone to ask questions to, if you’re cool with it, that is.”

“I’m stealing away your morning, the least I can do is answer some questions.”

You smile, setting bowls in front of both him and you as you take the stool beside him. Natural light’s filtering in from windows all throughout the unfamiliar, but definitely your, house. Not a bad first morning in the game.

“Does everyone live alone?”

Mark chuckles in the midst of inhaling corn flakes and immediately regrets it when one lodges itself in his throat. He coughs and you hurriedly pat him on the back.

“No - it’s just like in the real world. People buy and sell houses and apartments and live with whoever they want. Everyone enters the game, though, alone in a home similar to and in a city similar to the one they’re actually in.” You nod. Easy enough.

“Does this mean you and I live close by in real life?”

Mark nods. “Reppin’.” You grin back at him. “Cool.”

“I didn’t see my phone when I woke up, and I can’t find my laptop. How do I find other people I know and search stuff up here?”

“It’s a virtual reality game, after all. If you ask the AI something out loud, she’ll answer. Like, if you wanted to know where I was because you wanted to hang out, if you go “AI, where’s Mark?” she’ll tell you where I am.”

“Awesome.” Mark’s eyes meet yours, and both of you smile for a moment before looking away. It’s awkward again, suddenly. The presence on your left isn’t unwelcome, though.

“I’ve, uh, that’s the end of my questions. For now. At least.” You move to grab Mark’s finished bowl from him to put in the sink along with yours, but he beats you to both of them.

“You picked a good day to start playing - there’s a kind of neighborhood get together by the woods end tonight, around six. You can meet everyone, ask more questions if you think of any, if you want to. I can knock if you need someone to walk you there without getting lost.”

The last sentence is spoken right as Mark trips over air, grasping at the counter to steady himself so as to not drop the bowls. He slides them into the sink and shoots you an embarrassed smile.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs someone to walk you.” You respond, only teasing playfulness in your eyes. You walk him to the door.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, (Y/N). See you at six?”

“I’ll be waiting for your knock.” You wink, far less flustered than you were fifteen minutes ago. That’s likely due, of course, to the fact that you’ve seen him blush beet red thrice and trip spectacularly once already.

Pink dusts his cheeks as he waves goodbye, jogging down your porch steps to his house next door.

Make that four times you’ve seen him blush.

You check the clock on the wall in the living room. 8:28 AM. You have over 9 hours, and there’s not much, you know, for you to do in game right now.

“AI, save my game, please.”

<<OF COURSE>>

Taking off your headset, you set it beside you. You’re back in your room, willing away the slight sense of disappointment at how drab it seems compared to the game. It’s 8:29.

Cynosure, you’re surprised to say, isn’t as much a waste as you thought it would’ve been. You’re impressed at the thought that’s gone into it.

And impressed that someone like Mark, so adorable but so handsome, so intriguing yet so boy-next-door in every sense of the word, exists.

>>SAVE

>>LEAVE

>>NEIGHBORHOOD PARTY - SIX O’CLOCK

#nctwriters #mark #mark lee #mark scenario #mark scenarios #mark lee scenario #mark lee scenarios #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct 127 preferences #nct dream preferences #nct u preferences #nct mark #mark nct #cynosure

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royalrastafariannaynays · 7 years

Text

It Feels (minific)

It’s opening your eyes that hurts the most.

Moving the next second, you feel some pain from your… knee? And then the tube tugs in your arm, sending shocks from the needle, and you wince. And there’s a cast around your leg, and a splint brace on your wrist, and there’s tape and gauze all over your hands and shoulders and a few places on your arms.

But… opening your eyes hurts more than anything in your life.

Because there, sitting wrecked and asleep in a chair right in front of your bed, is John’s dad.

He’s basically your dad, at this point. Just officially adopted you as his kin a few months ago. You’re on the insurance and everything. He rescued you, and he’s tried so hard to help you be okay.

Now, that’s not the part that hurts.

No, the part that hurts, is that you’re too broken to make it work.

And you’re too fucked up to let him help.

The drugs on your brain are making you feel a little better, pain-wise. But there’s a horrible, messed-up, sinking feeling in your gut that’s not letting you participate with the class and be a good son. That feeling is everywhere. It makes you feel heavier than lead, heavier than weed, heavier than a Sunday morning after the first night in forty where you slept more than four hours consecutively.

It makes you feel like concrete. Shitty, plain, hot under the sun, cracking, old, and messy concrete. While he half-sits in that chair, breathing deeply and just barely snoring. His wrinkles are more pronounced, and he looks… terrible. By the greasy hair, he’s been caking on deodorant to stop from smelling terrible, as well.

The air vent in the room turns on, and you rip your eyes away from Mister Egbert Senior to look around the room.

Everything feels numb.

There’s a card or three on the bedside table. One with a can of shaving cream from John. He must be in class right now. It’s a Monday, right?

There’s also a small arrangement of flowers in a cube vase. It’s got some woody curly branch in it, and a few happy colors of flowers surrounding a single rose. That will be from Rose. It’s… smaller than usual. And less extravagant. It’s this bouquet that almost sets you to feeling like crying for the first time since you opened your eyes.

Rose would have sent it. “We’re glad you’re still here, Dave,” the little card in it reads. And the lily in it is just starting to open, and it’s got a big old sunflower on the side, your favorite, and you know she meant it. Your fucking sister. She’s got all the right tools to show just how much you mean to her.

And it feels a million times worse.

So you tear your gaze from the flowers, as well.

There are two crows hanging out on the window sill, and one of them looks inside and squawks. Are they here for you too?

And just as they squawk, and two more flutter down to join them on the ledge, you hear something fall to the floor.

Standing in the doorway is Karkat.

His eyes are full of tears as he scrambles to pick up the grape soda he dropped, and you watch with wonder as he hisses curses at himself. His little black fingernails and his thick fingers clench on the can, tapping the top so that it might still be okay to drink.

“Fucking,” he grumbles, and it’s the first voice since you blacked out from pain at that mall. “Cost me two dollars and I can’t even stop dropping this ice-cold piece of shit.”

“K–” you start, and you can’t finish. Karkat walks over to your bedside, and he looks rumpled. This kid you’ve had a single class with, who asked you on a date and you turned down, who brought you a candy apple after Halloween because you wanted one, who drove you home from school a few times, who silently held your hand and kissed you oh so softly in the closet at Jade’s New Years party. This kid who’s into football because he needs an after school activity and is your same age and is built like a truck, this guy who you thought was a jock but found out he hates jocks. This guy who’s been becoming one of your best bros.

This guy. Is here?

After what you did?

You gaze up at him in something like shock as he seats himself in the chair you didn’t notice, right next to the bed, with the Letterman across the back of it. You know that Letterman was paid for by the school, and it’s the only coat he owns, and that he’s only good at the sport for scholarships. And he’s so smart, too. And he’s so focused on school and doing well so that he can get a good job to help his dad retire early.

And. He’s here? For you?

He cares that much, about you?

Guilt wracks your body.

Karkat sniffles, and snaps. “What.”

“I…” you try, and it’s croaky and harsh and weak.

Your un-tethered hand scrabbles at your face to push up your shades, but they’re not there. Panic swells in your chest, and you hear the heart monitor spaz a little as you scan the room for them.

“They were smashed in the fall,” Karkat explains, softer than before.

When you look up, his eyes are searingly gentle. Auburn, soft against his olive complexion and angry brown hair.

“Oh,” you try, voice crackling on the single syllable you can get out, and you want to punch something.

Part of you is angry that it didn’t work. Part of you is angry that things still hurt. But most of you is angry at yourself, for doing something so stupid.

Now, you relive in slow motion.

“I’m really glad I got to talk to you again, Dave,” he says.

Exactly how it feels to jump off of a second story outdoor walkway.

First, there was trepidation. That day, going to visit Jade at the Earthbound Trading Co where she worked, you hadn’t even been planning it. But walking out of the mall, you were struck by an urge. Not necessarily to die, no. Though you didn’t know if you would care if the fall killed you. Was the second story high enough to kill? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe if you landed wrong.

And what exactly would be the problem with landing wrong, you thought, as you followed the dull impulse and climbed up to sit on the waist-high railing wall. It was a good distance down, maybe not far enough.

There was a sunburn on the back of your legs that protested the hard surface. It was from laying out by Egbert’s pool for too long. John looked worried when you came inside, but you shrugged and laughed it off. It’s not self harm if you just don’t care enough to remember sunscreen, right?

A car passed below, a nicer car than you could probably ever afford. A family passed behind you, murmuring about you in Spanish like you wouldn’t hear them or understand. You watched the glass doors of the mall entrance, and a cool draft from inside hit you in the face.

And then a security guard caught your eye. Opened her mouth, reached out a hand.

And you pushed off. That’s it, you pushed off. Hoping you would land sideways, at the last minute.

The fall wasn’t long enough to regret it. Though you half hit a holly bush, and half of you hit the ground. Left leg first, shin cracking down the middle and your leg buckling as the rest of you followed. Concrete when you hit the ground. A scream. A screech of tires. Head hitting. Pain, and then nothing.

Until you woke up just now.

Karkat is holding your gaze as you stare at him, unblinking, still looking a bit like he could burst into tears.

“The waterworks, Karks? Talk about overdone,” you tell him, looking at the cast. Or, not a cast, now that you examine it through the blankets. A brace, and… lumps of bandages. So the bone broke skin, huh.

“Shut the fuck up already, Dave,” he tells you, and it’s so final and absolute that you do. You slam your mouth shut, and now you feel like you might throw up.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

It’s Karkat’s turn to close his mouth, audibly shutting off his tongue and you can almost hear his frown. “Do you know how much we love you?” he asks. “How much you would be missed?”

“I do now,” you try, and he hisses again, bites back another snapping retort. You said the wrong thing.

“Was it planned?” he asks, then, and you find yourself taken off guard.

Maybe he knows you regret it enough already.

“No,” you whisper, and that’s it. There’s a choking, firm lump in your throat, and you find yourself struggling to breathe around it. Karkat hands you, out of nowhere, one of those tall, thick hospital mugs with the translucent plastic, and you’re only able to sip from it.

And then, a nurse comes in, smile on her face and way too sunny for the situation. “Sir?” she asks, patiently and a little tired, like Karkat must have been asking them a lot of questions. You know he gets tired of dealing with people, so you don’t blame him. You guess.

Karkat waves in your direction, and you find yourself locking eyes with the nurse. She looks pleasantly surprised to see you awake.

“Oh, with all that blood loss we were expecting at least another four hours!” she exclaims, and goes to the wall behind herself to fetch a chart and pen. “It’s good to see you, Mister Strider,” she says, so friendly and sweet. You try to smile but you’re sure it only looks like a cringe.

The nurse takes your vitals anyway.

And then she changes your bandages. When she rips the first one off, you groan. And the groan is loud enough to make Karkat snort a laugh, and then something you weren’t ready for at all.

It wakes up John’s Dad. His name is Gene. But you’re not used to it yet.

And you stare at him, and he stares at you. And Karkat watches the nurse like a hawk (his father is a nurse).

Even as the bandages are torn away and replaced, and the lady takes your pain levels and writes them down, and tries to ask you questions about how you’re feeling to which you only have noncommital answers, and then says she’ll be right back with your doctor, you stare at John’s Dad.

He looks disappointed, happy, and sad all in one.

When the nurse is gone, you croak and clatter and try to explain.

But he waves you off.

“You can explain when you’re more comfortable,” he says. And relief floods through you. “Or not at all, if that’s what you want.”

The guilt pours back again. Why didn’t you talk to him, instead? The drugs are making you feel dizzy now, and you shake your head as fast as you can to rid the feeling. Hot tip: it’s not that fast.

“I’m just glad that you’re still here, and you’re okay, and you’re going to make a smooth recovery,” he says, then.

You feel yourself look down at your knees.

“The insurance will cover this, except a small amount,” he adds, and you watch his ankles as he straightens in his chair.

Karkat snorts, and then taps your forehead. He finds the gauze there with one hand, pulling on the tape enough to make you (very slowly) reach up to bat it away. “And possible brain damage,” he says, scolding.

Dad scolds him in turn and reprimands him for the obvious lie, while you work up the nerve to just tell him one last thing.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Like a benediction, like it would save you from anything. Karkat shuts up, and stands. He waves, and says something about giving you some space as he leaves.

John’s dad is quiet for all of maybe five entire minutes. It feels like an eternity. With the drugs you’re on, you’re not sure how much time actually passes.

“It’s okay, Dave,” he tells you. And he stands. You watch his hands wring in each other as he settles into the chair Karkat just left.

“I’m just glad you’re still here,” he repeats his earlier sentiment. You feel your eyes well up, now. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Fuck. The doctor will be here soon.

“After all,” he adds, and his voice cracks. “I didn’t even get to spend enough time with my new son yet.”

You’re crying, now.

Sniffling, ugly, like a new baby. Snot isn’t your friend. Dad knows enough not to hold you, but he lays his hand out to your side, palm-up.

It’s so warm and big as you clutch it, so rough from work and it feels so much like a hug. So much like a hug from the father you always wanted. It hurts, how much you needed it. Hurts how much you needed a parent, a guardian, a piece of comfort and stability. And you sob, there, silently through your dry throat. And he cries a little bit too, you think. But not as much.

You’re still holding his hand so tight when the doctor comes in.

Later, you’ve let it go, but John and Jade come to visit. Rose pays a visit herself before you’re released, reading you poetry as a captive audience. And when you go home, Karkat comes by every day after practice to bring you homework and dote on you. You’ll start therapy.

You’ll get better.

And it’s good.

#davekat vent fic #my fics that i write #ficlet #sadstuck #humanstuck #hs #dk #homestuck #dave strider #fan fiction #negativity #suicide cw #my short fics that i write

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mfsmutdump-blog · 7 years

Text

[ It took three years of being signed for the music industry to take its toll on Red. And he didn’t just change physically. He’s not the same sweet, fan-pleasing singer anymore. Several rumors later and Red’s learned how to work the industry–or not care about anything related to it. He still needed to do his job, and he was still good at it, but he was also enjoying the things that came with it. More than he should, probably. But parties were nice, and after-parties nicer. Two hours after his latest performance, he’s with his band mates at a small bar rented for the night. Tonight the crowd was a good mix and Red had gotten a few drinks on top of his pre-show shots. He’s feeling rather buzzed, sat on a couch hearing his voice through the speakers. When he was still new to the biz, he used to be conscious of his own voice, but now he’s past that. ]

A girl was talking to him when he caught a mop of blond hair and a face that told Red the male didn’t belong to this kind of crowd, but really, he couldn’t tell anymore. There wasn’t really ageneral look with the fans these days. Something about the male caught his attention though, and he just had to hear the voice that came with the face. So he comes over, crossing the room in a few quick strides until he was in front of the other, who was a few inches shorter than him.“Having a good time, babe?” He asked in his usual charming manner, assuming the other knew who he was.

+++++

fridays were the stuff of fairy tales. blue supposed there could be a better, less cliched analogy, but it was more or less true. the people were more engaging, the conversations more riveting, and the drinks could only keep gettingbetter and better as the night progressed ( or perhaps everyone was too drunk to notice anything else ) — so it’s small wonder that he agreed to tag along with a handful of his friends. sure, they were headed to an after-party for some hotshot artist he had yet to hear about — he really should keep up with the news — but blue wasn’t about to sit at home on a friday night if he could spend his time anywhere else.

and that was how he found himself navigating through a swarm of bodies, a feat made easier by swaying to the music blaring through the speakers ( it was a good thing he wasn’t averse to dancing ) . pretty soon he has a drink in his hand, blue orbs scanning the crowd. his own friends had disappeared half an hour ago, and he was seconds away from slipping back inside the pit of bodies to let loose when he spots someone headed his way, his easy stride providing the capstone to what seemed to be the best choice he could possibly make tonight. a coy smile works its way onto blue’s lips, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers up at the other. “ i’m doing all right, ” he retorts, “ but i’m pretty sure you can make my night better. ”

+++++

That reply was somehow refreshing to Red’s ears, mostly because it wasn’t accompanied by some reference to him being their favorite person in the world or–hell–even god (as ironic as that statement was). Red gives a smirk if only to reward that innuendo–because that certainly sounded like one, yes? He’s curious if the other was just playing it cool like some fans pretended to do, so he inches closer until he’s directly in front of the stranger, gently pushing some people off to the side in the process. He doesn’t care about anyone saying he was rude–they say that anyway. And Red had started kind. He’s started in this industry very very kind, and look what that got him. The flickering lights bounced off the room and made his alcohol-filled mind ache, but he watches as the colors play on the other’s face, reds and greens seemingly directing Red’s attention to those lips that had just said he could make the night better. “I bet I could,” he replies with ease, running his fingers through his styled, yet messy hair. “Do you want to bother with names first, or not?” A chuckle, and Red lifts his arm to touch the other’s wrist with his fingertips, speaking in a hushed tone, “I don’t normally sleep with fans, but I think I can make an exemption tonight.”

+++++

he’s fully aware that he looks good underneath the stroboscopic lights. this was basic information that he’s played up to his advantage countless times, and he utilises that knowledge now — he was practically pulling out all of the stops. he knows he’s captured the other male’s attention, and all really he had to do now was to keep it. his teethlatch onto his lower lip, eyes widening slightly — the effect being a picture of innocence, and a false one at that, if his previous words were any indication. “ blue, ” he says simply, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. he’s soon humming at what little contact there was between them, and he wills himself to be patient — the night has only justbegun, after all, and they had plenty of time in their hands. “ fans? ” he asks, a slight frown marring the well-rehearsed mask he puts on during nights like these. he doesn’t bother to school his features out of confusion — he’ll work on it later. it wasn’t as if he was going anywhere, and by the looks of it, the taller male wasn’t going anywhere either.

+++++

This one’s definitely got an agenda, Red thinks as he watches the way the other bit his lip, eyes widening in that way that made Red’s head spin, and not from alcohol. “Blue?” Red repeats, and a soft laugh passed his lips at that name. Because look at him, popularly known by the world asRed, and here he was standing transfixed by someone who apparently didn’t know who he was and was calling himself Blue. Yeah, no. He’s definitely got an agenda. But what was it? To sleep with Red? Didn’t he already indirectly agree anyway? He pulls back his hand, because the alternative was to close his fingers around that wrist and just pull the other out of the room and into a quieter space, one where names didn’t matter, just skin. But that’s maybe the alcohol speaking. Or not. Red’s always needed some way to release the pent up energy left over from the night’s show, and being in a roomful of strangers wasn’t cutting it. “Fans,” Red repeats, pointedly, nailing a fact that he was assuming the other was just pretending not to get anyway. “Don’t you know the band this party’s dedicated to?” Not to be prideful, but Red was already used toeveryone knowing him. It’ll be fun to go back to trying to get to know someone who didn’t know anything about him, though. Fans always knew the craziest bit of trivia and spun a handful of theories from the littlest detail, it was crazy. “It doesn’t matter. Call me Everett,” he says, actually using his given name rather than the name everyone else knew him by.

+++++

“ strange name, i know. ” he states, rolling his eyes playfully as giggles escape parted lips, and he can’t help the way his spirits sank as the other pulls his hand away. he doesn’t even attempt to cover up the pout ( it was actually quite adorable, if you asked him ) forming on his mouth. he could barely recognise himself, after all ( well, that wasn’t entirely true, but for formality’s sake ) — it was as if he wasn’t even thinking anymore, all thought processes giving out, his actions and his words going entirely by feel. he knew from previous experience that it would be wiseto simply listen to his gut, and he expected this night to end the way he wanted it to — though he had to put in a considerable of work beforehand, that much was certain. “ i know that there’s a band, ” he replies. “ i don’t really know much about them. i just went with my friends, is all. ” he shrugs then, expression lingering on that of confusion for a couple more moments before slipping back into that easy smile — the one that made him look soutterly harmless. “ nice to meet you, everett. ” he states, letting the name roll off of his tongue.

+++++

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Red states in a warning, and it was more of unfiltered words he didn’t mean to say. He didn’t even have a problem with it, he just felt like he should be in control of this situation and not Blue. He was the celebrity, this was a party for his band, but here he was captivated by a blue-eyed male who pouts at him in such an irresistible way. It’s probably time to admit he needs to be in bed right now, and that’s not because of sleep. This night’s performance was especially draining physically, but all the drinks he’s had to get through that show and all the energy from the crowd left him buzzing. Usually it’s a random guy or girl that’s coming back to his hotel with him, but most nights it’s more drinks that eventually leave him collapsed, and not even on a bed all the time. It would be nice having a little bit of fun to switch things up. He responds with a confident smile, eyeing the other with unabashed interest. “Very nice to meet you, Blue.”Now he attributes that name to the color of his eyes–of their eyes, come to think of it–and he doesn’t think the name’s so suspicious anymore. “So, I don’t see your friends around and I think this party just got boring, yeah? Let’s go to my room.” If it seems like he’s in a hurry, that’s because he definitely was.

+++++

“ i’m not. ” he states matter-of-factly, nonchalance masking how his senses stood in attention at the subtle shift in the male’s tone. it worked him up some, but the other blonde didn’t need to know that — not yet, anyway. he was taking his time, navigating the situation with practiced skill, disinclined to show just how easily he would bend to the other’s will. he supposed everett would find out soon enough, but that would come later, when the only soundsenveloping them were their own. he feels the smile spread even wider across his lips at the look everett gives him — this was easier than he thought it would be. not that he was complaining, of course. he was flattered more than anything else, and goodness knows he was practically preening at the attention. he steps closer to the taller male, eyes scanning the crowd for a handful of familiar faces he knew he wouldn’t find — and whom he would ignore, anyway. “ i don’t see them either, ” he agrees, peering up at the other from behind his lashes, “ but i’m pretty sure i’d have more fun with you than i would here. ” his gaze drops as he traces a single stripe up the other’s arm, only tosnap back up to the male’s orbs when he was done, a corner of his lips quirking up in a slight smirk. “ won’t i? ”

+++++

Red’s not even going to try to play down how badly he wanted to take the other to bed. He couldn’t even blame his own body for responding so eagerly, not when those eyes were staring at him with contradicting signals. Blue looked so innocent, eyes peering behind those lashes like he wanted Red to show him the world, but then when he speaks, and when he touches Red’s arm, it’s a completely different message. A message that Red responds to eagerly with a step closer, one corner of his lips curving to a smirk. “Yeah, you definitely will,” he whispers, lips close to Blue’s ear and he ends his words with an exhale, breath hot against the other’s skin. His thoughts since earlier hasn’t changed except it was stronger now, the urge to slam the other against the wall and have his way with him. God knows Red needed that kind of submission in his life. Full control, nothing less. He’s somehow managing not to touch Blue anywhere, though, and that comes with considerable effort. He steps back before he changes his mind, nodding at someone in the crowd, his drummer, to say he was out. The party’s going to continue without him, but Red now has something else he wanted to do. Cocking his head to the direction of the door, he starts walking without another word, wondering if Blue would really follow.

+++++

the whisper sends shivers down his spine, and at this point he’s not even worried if a crack appears in his perfectly arranged facade. all of his walls would come crashing down soon enough, so what did it matter if the foundations started chipping away little by little? it was a question he didn’t have an answer to. but to be frank, he was toopreoccupied to think of anything besides the man in front of him, the rest of the world turning to background noiseas the other blonde steps closer and ultimately fading away as his breath fans across blue’s skin — alreadyhypersensitive the way it usually was on nights like these. blue watches the short exchange between everett and the other man before trailing after the other without hesitation, admittedly nettled by the lack of contact but deciding not to let his disappointment bleed into his expression and chiding himself for his impatience instead. he weaves through the crowd, keeping close to the taller male — not quite touching ( two can play at that game ) but close enough to show that they were leaving together, and he most definitely does not revel in the envious looks sent their way.

+++++

Somehow Red manages to keep his cool, thanking years of practice in this game of pretense, although the game he’s used to was him playing the good guy that’s not affected by all the shit everyone’s coming up with by the second. This, in comparison, was far more enjoyable, Red taking bigger steps to put a little more distance between them and trying his darndest to suppress a chuckle at the idea of possibly having Blue walk out on his attitude. Well, if he did then it would mean he wasn’t a good match for Red anyway. The way to his room was still a maze, a few turns here and a couple more there, each door a carbon copy of the previous and the next, but it’s easy to spot the number he’s staying in. Stopping in his tracks, he only throws a casual glance back before he fishes for his keycard, swiping it in the slot and opening the door to let himself in, unfazed by the lights and the TV switching on automatically. It’s standard senseless gimicks for him, and he would have sat in the dark waiting for Blue if he had to. In fact that would have been more his style, but he’s not saying no to seeing his catch naked under the lights either. “Stand there,” he said, pointing in front of him as he sat on the bed. “And strip.”

+++++

he’s finding it harder and harder to keep up — the club was packed, and his slight frame made it all too easy for people to crash onto him. it doesn’t help that he hasn’t got anyone to latch onto, and he could feel his eyesnarrow into slits ( mouth forming a slight pout ) as his gaze remains fixed on the male in front of him — who was acting as if he wasn’t even there. if it was anyone else he would have “ dropped their sorry ass ” ( lilly’s words, not his ) , but he finds himself following all the same. he finds that everything is so much easier when they get to the hotel, the lateness of the hour evident in the empty halls — and before he knows it they’re enveloped within the four walls of the taller male’s room. he’s barely had time to take in the surroundings when he hears it — spine growingrigid as his entire body stands at attention. he’s in front of the blonde almost immediately, and he doesn’t even bother to make a show out of undressing — just keeps his eyes locked onto the other’s as he does it. soon enough the cold air’s kissing his skin, teeth catching onto his lesser lip as his brows lift expectantly — he’s waiting.

+++++

It’s safe to assume the other’s easy to submit, what with him still following Red into the room despite that apparent lack of further encouragement from the taller. A smirk grows on Red’s face as Blue does as he’s told (and he’s sure there’s plenty of where that submissiveness came from), eyes following the trail of discarded clothing, taking in the nakedness that was soon in front of him, his own tongue licking at his lip as the only visible sign of his excitement. He’s driven by hormones and alcohol, but where that combination would have led to him already naked and them in bed as soon as the door’s closed, it’s making him feel a little laid back now, although that must have been to do with Blue not making a fuss. Red’s taking his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt as he watches the other like a hawk, standing up as soon as his shirt was fully open so he was in front of Blue. And he’s leaning forward as if to aim for a kiss–only to push back before their lips completely touch, the smile he’s sporting saying Blue needs to be a little more patient (even though he’s been nothing but, has he?). He just stands there, not touching Blue anywhere, and not saying anything. As with most things in his life, he wants this to go his way, and he’s unabashedly doing just that. Pulling away farther, he crosses the room to open a drawer before he resumes his spot, back to sitting down again as he throws a bottle of lube Blue’s way. “Touch yourself for me.”

+++++

it’s quiet, so quiet, but his thoughts are running amok — only to become louder once red licks his lips, causing his anticipation to grow further ( which he didn’t even think was possible at this point ) . he’s learning very quickly that this night would not like be the others, and he already knows that letting lilly drag him out of his apartment is the best decision he’s made in a while. it’s hard not to think that way, really, not when his eyes are fixed on the other’s chest, trailing over every bit of exposed skin. his lips part slightly as the blonde comes near, and he wants to tip his head forward, close the distance — but he resists, and before he knows it, red��s too far away again. he bites back thewhine that threatened to slip past his lips, answering the taller’s smile with the slightest of nods. blue hues grow wide at the other’s instructions, excitement seeping through his veins as delicate hands close around the bottle. he gets down on his knees wordlessly, one slicked finger trailing between his thighs, wasting no time in teasing himself before he pushes in. he bites his lip as he adds another almost immediately, keeping his eyes on red’s for as long as he could. then he’s leaning back on his ankles, hips canting against his fingers — and suddenly he can’t bear to look at the other anymore, head tipping back and eyes squeezing shut as his other hand closes around one of his nipples, rolling the nub between his fingers. his mouth falls open in a gasp as he grazes his spot, and he lets himself push against it for a while — before he looks at red once more, tiny gasps still falling from his lips. “ sh — should i stop? ”

+++++

Leaning back slightly on the bed, Red worked on his jeans, undoing the fly almost lazily as he watched Blue coat his fingers, soon after touching himself as instructed, and once again Red was struck by how easily the other seemed to follow whatever he said. It’s making Red think of something else he could say, something else to kick this night up a notch, to enjoy the complete submission that he rarely saw in anyone, but fuck it, he can’t think straight when Blue’s gaze falls away from his, eyes closing shut as Red could only imagine the pleasure he was giving himself. His own member stood in attention, his body’s reaction to the show he’s seeing in front of him evident in the tent in his boxers, which he’s soon freezing from its confines, not wasting any time to stroke himself, his own moan almost leaving his lips in time with Blue’s gasp. He could get himself off like this, but it’d be a shame not to touch that sweet boy who was so concentrated on touching himself, probably hoping to get a little more attention than that. What a waste it would be if Red didn’t use that entrance the other’s quickly prepared for him. As Blue asks, Red’s standing up, not daring to answer for the risk of his voice betraying him, showing the growing need to be inside the other, and admitting he might be close to losing his control. Because Red would benothing if he wasn’t controlling--that’s what this person–Blue--had to know about him. (Why the other needed to know that when it was clearly just a one night stand, Red had no idea.) “Show me your hands,” he commands when he’s in front of Blue again and, this time, his eyes promised that he wasn’t going to move away. Rather, he’s taking Blue’s wrists, holding them up over his head so he couldn’t touch himself further, and Red pushes him until his back’s almost to the wall before giving him a slight push so he’s turned around, face away from Red. “I think that’s enough playing around, don’t you think?”

+++++

he’s only vaguely aware of his surroundings, mind clouding with pleasure as he pushed back against his fingers — but it’s as if he was attuned to the other male, teeth latching onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he watches the blonde stroke himself. he’s starting to grow restless, hips losing rhythm as they stuttered against his own hand, and he could already feel his release building despite the fact that everett hasn’t even touched him yet. it won’t be long before he comes all over himself, he concludes, and he’d much rather it happened whilst the other male was buried deep within him — so it’s a relief when the blonde tells him to stop, allowing the other to move him as he saw fit, mouth hanging open in a gasp as everett grips his wrists above his head. there’s a whine slipping past his lips as he’s turned around, having looked forward to watching the other male as he came, but the position causes anticipation to pump through his veins all the same — and he’s rocking backward before he realises it, cheeks brushing against the taller’s length. he doesn’t have time to berate himself, not when all he could think about is more more more — and so he tries to make up for it through whimpers and breathless pleas, shifting restlessly as he waited for the blonde to do anything. “ need you, ” is all he says, breathing harshly through his parted mouth, forehead resting on the wall he was pressed up against. “ please. ” he adds, and at this point he knows how painfully obvious it is that he was more than capable of bending to the other’s will, but truth be told he didn’t give a damn.

+++++

he sounds beautiful, red would give him that. it’s like in the hour (that felt more like a full day of pent up sexual frustration) that they’d been together, red’s been treated to a show he’d never forget. and fuck, he’d remember those whines long after blue’s gone the next day, he was almost sure of it. he wouldn’t dare say he’s grown attached to his current plaything–it was too soon for that–but a confusing thought permeates his mind. it’s as if he wants to press the other close to him and whisper soothing promises in his ear. it’s only natural, he reminds himself. blue has thatkind of face. he certainly hasn’t done anything to deserve any promises–or adoration–from red. he’s not gonna let those confusing emotions cloud over his more pressing needs. it made turning the other’s face away from him necessary; all the better to fuck him without having that face burned in red’s mind for days. honestly, he hasn’t got the time for that. what he needs right now is release, something he’s graciously reminded by the soft flesh inviting him to plunge deep and the voice that was showing how desperate the other was for more. holding the other’s wrists firmly over his head, red uses his free hand to stroke himself a couple more times, coating his length with precum before he parts blue’s cheeks and lines himself up. “i don’t think i promised i’ll be gentle.” it’s all the warning he says before he rams in, hand holding blue’s waist in place, fingernails digging into that porcelain skin. and he doesn’t slow down, not even when his own moans fall one after the other, the puckered entrance closing around him and making him squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure. he keeps at it, his goal to reach his climax soon–and then maybe another. his pants come shallow with every thrust, and despite himself he relents to the words, “–fuck. you feel good.”

+++++

there’s a whimper beginning to bubble up from his throat at the other male’s voice, cut abruptly by a gasp as the blonde pushes in — and then his eyes are squeezing shut, hands balling into fists from where they’re being held above his head, teeth latching onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood when he’s not drawing desperate breaths from his mouth. it’s as if his mind has been wiped clean, any and all thoughts shoved away so that all he could focus on was how good everett felt, a jumbled mess of the other’s name and the word more swirling around in his brain. but there isn’t enough room to let those slip through his lips, not when he can barely contain his moans — and he wants to reach behind himself, wrap his arms around the other’s back and pull him in so that blue’s pressed against his chest, but he can’t, and the knowledge that everett was gripping his wrists hard enough to form bruises worked him up far more than it should’ve ( he’s also vaguely aware of the nails digging into his hips, and he thinks that they would definitely leave marks, finds himself wishing that they really would ) . all he could do is rock back against the other — not that he needed to, with the way the blonde was handling him, and he would’ve been perfectly happy with allowing himself to be used if he didn’t have to move in an attempt to rid himself of all the pent-up energy — and he’s turning his head before he realises he’s done it, lids heavy as he does his best to look up at the other. “ want your mouth. ” he hears himself say, and he would’ve scolded himself ( because it wasn’t about what he wanted, damn it ) but he was too far gone to think properly. “ please. want your mouth. ” he sounds wrecked, he really does, and he could easily imagine that he looked like it too, the world swimming in and out of focus as pleasure courses through him.

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