#(Vex is also having a Time but shut up she's totally fine) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zhongster · 1 year

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Hi there! I absolutely LOVE your page! Your stories and headcannons have left me blushing SEVERAL times. Thank you :)

Ahem. Anyways...

I've got this idea in my brain and was wondering what your thoughts on it/would you write a small story about said topic.

So, as you said in your Vax headcannons, he's not shy about his belching abilities until Keyleth comes around, then he's "nervous"

What if, the two of them were made to share a room at an inn or something during one of their quests. She's busy talking to Pike or Vex even, he's alone in the room. WRONG. She comes in as he's just about to start releasing said "monsters" in his stomach. Of course, she wants him to feel better, she's his friend/girlfriend/wife (you decide, lol) so she encourages him to let loose and when he does, he finds out she secretly "likes" it...

I hope you enjoy this idea that now lives rent-free in my brain.

Oh my god dude… this prompt has me on the floor holy fuck. Also tysm I’m glad I’m finding more eructo people that like tlovm/cr 😭

(Post Writing Note: another day another me poking my emetophobia with a stick like an angry bear, that being said: ⚠️‼️EMETO TW: MENTIONS ONLY, WE DON’T ACTUALLY SEE IT (it happens off screen, so to speak) ‼️⚠️)

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

Vax absolutely adored Vox Machina’s post victory ragers and considering the dragon they’d just killed, he found himself drinking with his friends and destroying some poor innkeeper’s tavern. Some hours ago Scanlan had disappeared upstairs with a rather attractive male tiefling to do god knows what and Grog and Pike lay asleep at a table over in the corner. This left only Vax, Vex, Keyleth, and Percy keeping the party going.

As he glanced around the room, looking for his sister (who definitely wasn’t in the process of swindling a nearby dwarf out of several gold pieces), he spotted Keyleth attempting to lead Percy in a drunken imitation of a waltz. The two of them were giggling and stumbling over each other and Vax was of the opinion that Keyleth had never looked prettier.

Vax’s stomach gave a slight groan to which he gently placed a hand over it. It pressed against his shirt, filled to the brim with tavern food and alcohol. A small gas bubble pressed up his throat and came out in the form of a quiet closed-mouth burp.

He decided he’d better make his escape now while Keyleth was distracted. He could go up to their shared room in the inn and empty his stomach of its troublesome gas before Keyleth was even aware he was gone.

He’d only just made it past the threshold of their room when a sizable belch forced its way up his throat. He placed a hand on his chest in slight surprise, he hadn’t expected that one. He wasn’t too perturbed however, this had been what he’d come up there to do anyway.

Wasting no further time, Vax turned away from the door and pressed his hand onto the top part of his overtaxed stomach. Immediately another deep belch rolled up his chest and out of his open mouth. As soon as it came to an end the door behind him flew open revealing none other than Keyleth, the one person he was trying to avoid at the moment.

He hurriedly removed his hand from his stomach and clamped his lips shut. However, once that first burp had come out he now found it a bit difficult to keep the rest from following its predecessor.

Keyleth passed through the doorway giggling and animatedly telling him a story about a Goliath that had just been rude to her and, he thinks, Percy ended up vomiting on his shoes when he attempted to tell the guy off. Vax isn’t totally sure as all of his focus is currently in keeping the rest of the air in his stomach from making an appearance in front of Keyleth. He’d taken to nodding and smiling through her story instead of actually responding.

“And anyway, Percy’s fine. I think Vex took him back to their room” Keyleth finished.

Vax hummed in acknowledgment.

Apparently, despite her slightly drunken state, Keyleth took notice of his lack of verbal response. “You feeling okay?” She asks, raising her eyebrow.

“Oh uhh-“ Vax started before he inevitably lost the battle with his stomach.

The belch that rolled out of him was a long one. Long enough, in fact, that he had time to close his mouth part way through, turning it into an extremely deep closed mouth burp.

Keyleth was just staring at him.

Vax lifted a fist to cover his mouth as he stifled a smaller after-burp, “shit, excuse me I’m so sorry Keyleth.” He apologized.

This seemed to break Keyleth out of the sort of shock she’d been in and she stuttered back to life with an awkward jolt.

She hurriedly waved her hands in front of him, “Nononono don’t worry about it, is your stomach hurting? Do you feel sick?” She asked.

Vax shook his head, “No I’ve just got… a bit of gas I’m afraid.”

Keyleth’s shoulders tightened before she spoke “Oh… well I’m glad you aren’t sick, you can keep going I don’t mind. I just want you to feel better.”

As much as he didn’t want to take her up on her offer it was beginning to seem as though he wouldn’t have any other choice. His body was not reacting well to the alcohol and he began to hiccup. His hiccups never lead to anywhere pleasant. Though they were tame at the moment he knew they would devolve in a few short minutes.

And of course, right on cue, he was wracked with another hiccup that quickly turned into an extremely long and painful burp. When it came to an end he brought an open palm to his chest and gently began to rub his own sternum. That one had hurt. Before he had a minute to breathe another hiccup-burp shook his chest. “Oh god” he wheezed.

He looked up to Keyleth who was staring at him like a deer in headlights and weakly gestured towards his back. She seemed to get the message as she began to roughly bring her palm down in between his shoulder blades. This finally managed to jar the rest of the air that was struggling to get out of him. The belch seemed to go on forever and when it finally ended he was gasping in relief.

“Gods that wasn’t fun,” he winced “thanks Keyleth.”

She seemed to start at the sound of her name and snorted a quick “no problem”.

That’s when Vax noticed it for the first time. There was a light rosy tint to Keyleth’s cheeks that hadn’t been there before. Now, her face usually flushed when she’d been drinking but he’d seen her drunk enough times at this point that he knew this was different.

Her strange behavior since she entered the room was finally starting to click. She was into it. She was actually into his gas.

Now Vax wasn’t one to kink-shame, he was friends with Scanlan after all, but the idea of her being attracted to him in any capacity both excited and terrified him. It almost seemed as though his hopelessly unrequited crush on her might not be so unrequited at all.

Shaking that thought out of his head, the mischievous part of his personality began to make an appearance and he found himself wanting to tease her even more than he already had. Against his better judgement, he subtly gulped down more air and smiled wickedly to himself.

This was going to be fun.

#burping #eructophilia #belching #the legend of vox machina #critical role #vax’ildan #vaxleth

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jesswritesthat · 4 years

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hey babe! i love your writing so much!!! so i recently watched kaguya-sama: love is war and i was wondering if you could do a headcanon of kuroo, bokuto and atsumu where their crush gets sick and they visit her and she drags them into her bed to sleep with them? you can decide how it ends. thank you so much in advance if you do end up writing this! i love you and take care of youself💞

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for this, I’ve never seen Kaguya-Sama but it sounds really cute. Also take care of yourself too and I hope these are okay! Much love 💕

Summary: Bokuto, Kuroo and Atsumu checking up on their sick crush headcanons

>>>>—————————>

Bokuto Kōtarō:

• Has felt like he's been missing something all day but couldn't quite decipher what it was until Akaashi mentions how you're off sick.

• Thats when your phone is bombarded with ‘urgent’ messages inquiring about your wellbeing to the dramatic extent of:

[ Kou: (N/N)! You haven't answered me yet, are yOu StiLl AliVe?! ]

[ (N/n): no ]

[ Kou: Aw, can I have your cool headphones then, since you won't be needing them anymore? 😁💕 ]

[ (N/n): Wow Kou, I'll haunt your dumbass at Volleyball games for that. ]

[ Kou: Even in death, your support means everything to me. ]

• Despite his nonsense he kept updated with you throughout the school day by sending memes in hopes of raising your spirits. The most peace you got was during Volleyball Club time - the Ace too invested to message you at that point.

• At the end though he calls his team for a serious discussion and they're all expecting major improvements on their gameplay ready for Nationals.

But no.

"What can I get (N/n) to make her feel better, this is crucial. I need only good ideas!"

• They all knew about his crush on you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it but you were none the wiser. Even so, Fukurōdani offered what advice they could to their friend because like him, they cared about you too.

• "Akaashi picked up your schoolwork." Bokuto says as he walks into your room, waving the papers and placing them on your side.

"And you didn't think to take notes for me?"

"Nah, I wanted to bring you good stuff."

"Fair point."

• Bokutos likely brought everything he could find once he went home and changed/showered - he's got flowers, your favourite snacks, drinks, medicine and some movies to cure your boredom. Like how much do I owe you???

He's says it's fine though, in return you have to be better by tomorrow.

That's not how it works Kou.

• You're both seated on your bed watching some shitty movie when you start getting a bit sleepy and you just want warmth.

"Can you give me a hug Kōtarō? I just need a hug, I know how weird that sounds..."

• Doesn't even think twice about it, he practically tackles you onto the covers which elicits lovely giggles from you - the potential of him getting sick too isn't even considered, he's just focused on being with you and making you feel better.

• His arms are so warm and they’re beautiful, you forgot how toned he is and you grow so comfortable in his embrace. He’s also really relaxed about it and is calm enough to ramble on normally - except when you nuzzle against him during a cold shiver. Bokuto full on freezes mid sentence, releasing a cautious breath prior to changing the subject.

• It’s obvious he’s content with you though, and surprisingly falls asleep first which makes you laugh. Kōtarō keeps a strong but delicate hold on your body and is subconsciously receptive enough to your every move. You adjusted yourself slightly which stirred him, his voice is much huskier than before due to sleep but remains concerned.

“Can’t you sleep (Y/n)? I can-“

“I’m fine, you’re keeping me warm.”

• With a nod of understanding he’s gone again and you follow shortly afterwards, the both of you unintentionally making the nap a sleepover. Which you only realise the next morning - still in his arms even if the position has changed. You take a few minutes to enjoy it.

• Miraculously doesn't get sick, his immune system must be immortal as he's brimming with energy once he gets up. His radiance is actually contagious as you feel much better in yourself too and his vibrant attitude really motivates you for the day despite being physically exhausted from beating the flu.

• "Your partner is going to be blessed if you bring them breakfast, I mean talk about amazing." You comment as he brings up a plate that he’d crafted in your kitchen, which is surprisingly decent. You suppose he must keep his body fit somehow.

"My crush will have to do for now."

"Wait I - ah, you have a crush on me?"

"Hah, didn't you know? I never tried to hide it or anything."

Kuroo Tetsurō:

• Notices your absence immediately, he's observant by nature but especially where his crush is concerned and he isn't afraid to contact you before class starts.

• "Hey (Y/n), it's Kuroo, are you running late today?"

"Hnn, I'm not gonna make it. I tried but I feel awful - Sickness: 1, (L/n): 0." Already by the grogginess in your voice he can tell you're under the weather and winces at the sound of you stifling a cough.

"Ah geez, go to bed would you? And drink plenty of water, I'll inform the teachers and everything."

"Thanks Tetsurō, I owe you one."

• Will message you at regular intervals throughout the day regarding your health with cute little reminders. You were on his mind frequently, he’s lowkey worried okay?

[ Tetsu: Drink water, and eat breakfast if you can. ]

[ (Y/n): Yeah yeah I have, go learn something. ]

[ Tetsu: Why are you replying? Shouldn't you be sleeping it off - I don't want your germs. ]

[ (Y/n): Sharing is caring. ]

[ Tetsu: Oya? It took a cold for you finally admit you care, so is it gonna take a pandemic to say you love me? 😏 ]

[ (Y/n): 🖕🏻]

• Is actually considerate enough to tell you he'll swing by after practice, and asks if you want anything from the shop so you give basics like water and tablets. Comes equipped with the extra notes he's taken from all of your shared classes and requested papers from teachers in those you don't, so you're not falling behind.

• Aside from the bare minimum you requested, he chucks your favourite snacks on your desk stating that it’s important to keep morale high too. Liar. He just wanted to do something nice for you.

• Checks your temperature despite your protests of not being a child, he only does this because it vexes you and Kuroo finds that cute. As a silent apology for teasing the Hell out of you, he’ll make you some tea and you both get lost in conversation.

• Notices you’re starting to doze off, rest you should’ve had instead of texting everyone - but ensuring everything is fine, he’s about to stealthily exit until your fingers grasp his wrist and tug him back slightly.

"Stay Tetsurō..."

"You'll likely regret that request once you wake up."

"S'ok, it's you."

• The strength you have when tugging him into bed with you catches him completely off guard and he’s actually blushing - doesn’t know what to say but knows he has to at least maintain some composure.

“So uh, never knew you wanted me this badly.”

“Ugh shut up dumbass, I can feel your rapid heartbeat from here.”

“Right...”

• Kuroo goes all shy, you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and are comfortably leaning against his side and he absentmindedly runs his fingers soothingly up and down your arm to settle his own nerves.

• It’s peacefully silent, simply enjoying one another’s company before he hears your muffled sniffles indicating you’ve fallen asleep and a soft smile graces his lips. If you were his, then he’d definitely kiss your forehead, and lips to be honest, but the fact you aren’t leaves him with a disappointed sigh.

• You both end up taking a nap, waking up wrapped in each other’s arms and noses practically touching which startled the Captain - Kuroo literally falling off of your bed with a yelp much to your amusement. Afterwards, he departs suggesting you get more rest, get better soon and he’ll see you at school next week.

• At least that was the plan, which altered with the text exchange the following morning.

[ Kuroo: Sharing is not caring, I wanted your snacks not your sickness! ]

[ (Y/n): RIP us. 💀 ]

[ Tetsu: You owe me one remember? I've got the house to myself this weekend so would you like to suffer together? I have blankets, entertainment and food. ]

[ (Y/n): Beats sniffling alone, I'll bring the tissues and drugs. ]

• So, you went over with a trail of sneezing in your wake and ended up snuggled with Kuroo under a blanket with a variety of games gracing the TV as you skilfully passed around the tissues. Aside from being ill, spending time like this with him was perfect.

• "Sickness: 2, (L/n) and Kuroo: 0..."

"No, Kuroo: 1.”

"How so? You K.O. a sneeze or something?"

"I got to spend the day with you didn't I? That counts as a win in my book."

"Tch careful, anyone would think the Scheming Captain cares~"

"I do smartass, I care about you a lot (Y/n)..."

Miya Atsumu:

• Atsumu wasn't one to act needy in any way, the only excuse for him to contact you in regards to your absence was to do it with a remark and hope you'd elaborate.

[ Atsumu: Yo, are ya ditching me to survive English on my own? That's cold (Y/n) 😭 ]

[ (Y/n): Sorry 'Tsumu, I'm too busy dying to care rn. Have a fun missing me loser. ]

[ Atsumu: Hah you wish, you alright tho? ]

• You're good friends but he's never really expressed genuine concern about you before, not verbally anyway. You thought the final "K" after you'd told him you were gonna rest would be the end of it.

So you were beyond surprised when he rocked up to your house later that evening.

• It took everything you had not to mock him for his embarrassed stature, solely flustered by the fact you'd seen him so considerate. Admittedly you were also exhausted and probably couldn't think of a snarky reply anyway.

• "What's up? Was there homework or - ugh, or something?"

"Huh? Oh I dunno. But uh, I got 'Samu to make you some Okayu, and a Umeboshi Tea since it's good for colds and stuff."

• Totally pestered Osamu all day to help him make you something and had to do stupid favours in return but Atsumu will deny it if you ever ask.

• “I love how you don’t care what you look like when you have guests over.”

“Take your stupid backhanded compliments and shove them up your pretty litt-“ You bite back, flipping him off in the process while Atsumu remains proudly victorious.

“Nah ah, is that any way to speak to the man who brought you dinner?”

“It’s the way to speak to the man whose currently annoying me.”

“You’re welcome, this is revenge for ditching me in class gorgeous~”

• Despite how irritating he could be, Atsumu stuck around for a bit to make sure you ate everything he’d brought and taken the appropriate medication.

• “Oh yeah, I brought that movie you were talking about the other day. Figured it might pass the time a bit.”

“Thank you! I’ll give it back once I’m better - thank you so much ‘Tsumu.”

Your excitement was endearing, and he had to collect himself a bit since admiring such little quirks was out of the question - his crush was bad enough as it is.

“Wanna watch it now? I haven’t got anything to do so I can give you spoilers.”

“Sounds good - and not a word!”

• You spent the afternoon watching the film and playfully wrestling the blonde in order to shut him up whenever he made an attempt to spoil it - he would never, but provoking you was too funny.

• You settle down later on, putting on a mindless tv show for background noise before collapsing onto your bed with groan. Atsumu raising a smug brow at your exhausted state as he threw his jacket on.

• "Wanna sleep with me?" It was innocent, at least you didn’t think much of it then.

"Do I what now?" He was smirking, thankful that your panic left you oblivious to the blush crawling up his neck at the mere insinuation alone.

"Sleep wit- ohh I did not think that through! I meant sleep in my bed, next to me, to help me drift off. Maybe it's the sleepiness or medicine but I really want you Atsumu..."

"Not helping your case at all." Again he smugly responded, dropping his jacket to the floor with a sly smile.

"Stop smirking and just hug me okay? Then you can leave and tease me about this later."

• Atsumu isn't awkward about it, subduing his nerves enough to pull you into his arms as he sits up - dutifully ignoring the butterflies in his stomach due to your close proximity and the intoxicating smell of your hair.

• Atsumu becomes unintentionally soft, his fingers slowly begin to glide through your hair and he hesitates when he feels the hum of contentment you release before continuing. Your whole body just relaxes against his and he subconsciously does the same, not even realising he was this tense around you - was his body always like that in your general presence?

• As you start quietly talking about nothing and everything, he notices a weakness - you’re a lot more open when drowsy and god he wants to take advantage but knows you’ll remember the questions he asked and murder him for it when you’re able.

• Intead he attempts to protect any dignity he thinks he has left with you - jokes on him, it’s absolutely none. You guys are way past that level and he knows it.

“You better get healthy quick, not that I care but English is really borin’ on my own ya know?”

"The people you truly care about must be really lucky to have you 'Tsumu..." The mumble is enough to make him roll his eyes, but he waits until you’re asleep to reply.

"Yeah... you are..."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

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smuckersblr · 3 years

Text

Clueless Part 1

Peter tapped his freshly manicured french nails on the marbled countertop. Italian music was softly playing on the stereo near the fridge, the TV in the living room across from where he stood was playing the muted news. Another attack in Manhattan taken care of by the red robot that everyone is calling IronMan.

Peter huffed and looked over the dieted food for his dad he had just packed for his lunch, and waited for the coffee to be done pouring. “Daddy! Hurry up you’re gonna be late for your meeting!” Peter’s dad, Tony Stark, was a world-renowned businessman/engineer.

And Peter was his ‘infamous child prodigy’, is what Dr.Strange, his dad’s close friend, likes to call him. Peter was the popular kid at school, the one who knew how to dress amazingly enough to be on the cover of ELLE with his famous everyday outfits, the kid that had all A’s and was on the honor roll each year and won many science conventions first place awards; and yet he was still known to be the most liked and admired at school.

Peter bit his glossed lips while examining his manicure, thinking about the dinner tonight that he had to go to with his dad, something about ‘linking up with old friends. Tony came into the room through the arch and was fixing his tie while looking at his watch.

“Pete don’t tell me you made that crap diet food for me today, I’m gonna have a long day of meetings and a burger already sounds amazing for lunch.” Peter scrunched up his freckled nose in distaste at the grease patty his father called heaven.

Peter poured his dad's coffee in a stainless steel coffee cup. “Daddy you know Dr. Strange said that it’s the best way to help if you want to live past fifty.” Tony rolled his eyes and took the packed food and coffee cup anyways. “So now you're going to listen to whatever that man tells you?” Peter pecked his dad’s cheek, rubbing away the gloss smudge with his thumb with a fond smile.

“I’m gonna listen to any man with a Bachelor's degree daddy.” His dad smiled fondly and hugged his son. “That’s my boy.” And before Tony left through the archway to the foyer he turned around and looked Peter up and down.

“You and the girls plan something for after school? Because you know we’re going out tonight kid.” Peter looked down over his clothes for the day. A Versace dual print button-up that reached down midthigh with white shorts. And a white Gucci belt to cinch his waist to show his figure and his white leather Prada pumps with his Speedy Bandouliere 25 to tie everything together.

“We’re matching today and it was Nat’s turn to pick the designer, and I know dad all you’ve been talking about is this dinner.” Tony hummed and sipped his coffee, rolling his eyes at his son’s attitude but, never-the-less hugged Peter and both walked out to the front of their round-about cobbled driveway and both went into their respectable vehicles.

----------

Once Peter rolled up to Natasha’s giant house with the same green patch of luscious grass and beautifully cut bushes around the property with giant gates at the entrance, Peter honked twice, and while waiting he checked himself out in his bedazzled hand mirror.

His curls for the day were in wet-styled auburn curls and his eyes were glossed with a wet shine and blush blended perfectly into his tan skin from his dad’s last business trip in Mexico. Peter smiled at the enchanting memory of mimosas being handed to him on the beach with the sound of waves crashing in the background and oiled pure white skin under the blazing sun and the sound of beautiful Latino music playing at the beach’s bar behind him.

Peter remembered the dream-like Hispanic men lounging around him in swimming shorts and glorious brown skin and bright white smiles. His dad finally enjoyed his time without work or stress at the bar, smiling and laughing with beautiful Latina women.

Peter snapped out of his loving memory when Natasha jumped in the front seat of his white topless jeep.

“Hey Pete, hurry so we can get to Shuri’s house, I don’t want to hear her complain about being late to class.” She rolled her eyes lovingly and looked at herself through the front seat mirror and pushed up her curls.

He snorted at Nat's teasing and pulled away from the curb. “You know that outfit will catch Steve’s eye right?” She looked me up and down with a devilish smirk on her red painted lips, Peter always did admire how she pulled off red so damn well.

Peter looked over at her once they hit a red light. “Every outfit I wear catches that man’s eye, Nat.” Then another burst of laughter came out from both of them.

Once Peter pulled up to Shuri’s house, he already knew she was gonna give them hell for the time.

Peter absentmindedly looked at the time on the jeep, only ten minutes ‘till the bell rings, they’ve got plenty of time. Shuri came in the car with a flourish of the door slamming shut and a huff that came from her lips. While Peter was pulling away from the curb he looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at Shuri.

“What’s got you in a fit S?” Shuri flung a strand of her box braid behind her shoulder in annoyance and sulked in the back with her Prada handbag clutched in her lap. “T’Challa was actin’ lame this mornin’, only because I asked him why he was acting out last night with his friends,” And once Shuri started talking about her brother, both Natasha and Peter tuned in, even when they arrived in the school’s parking lot, the deets on T was always juicy.

“Get this guys I overheard T talkin’ about you Pete and how he’s surprised your daddy hasn’t sent you to a catholic school already because he and his friends think you're easy, then somehow that turned into a convo on how he would totally--and I quote--"Tap that ass".” She said this conversationally while all three of them were walking towards the school with their heels clicking and bags in hand.

Peter gawked and Nat let out a snort. “Okay, but doesn’t he know that Pete is a total virgin?” Nat brought up while Peter was minutely speechless for the first time in forever and then he snapped back to life. “What a skeeze.'' Both girls nodded in resolution and then they split for class once they got into the school’s hallway.

———

At lunch Peter walked to his and the girls' table in the middle of the outside cafeteria with a lime popsicle in one dainty hand, sucking the tip of the icy treat while soaking in the glances he got from his peers. Peter sat with a flourish and waved at the girls in greeting.

“Pete whatcha doing tonight I wanna see if you could go shopping with us.” Wanda leaned forward with her chewing gum on one finger while she chewed on her apple slices.

Peter pouted, “Sorry Wand, I got this dinner thing with my dad and his friends tonight.” Wanda gave a humph and hunched her shoulders. “You know I find it weird how Pete’s dad is an actual DILF and his friends are just as fine.” Shuri brought up, which got the girls around the table nodding in agreement. Peter rolled his eyes and flipped Shuri off when she broke out laughing.

Lunch had just begun but usually, Steve would be right next to Peter with his macchiato in hand. “Looking for your boy toy?” Shuri swirled a baby carrot in the dollop of the ranch she only treated herself to once a month.

Peter grimaced and shook his head indifferently, sucking the treat back into his mouth with an eye roll from his friend's laughter. Peter knew that Steve had it for him and was at his beck and call even if he acted like he was just doing it to be nice.

Peter rarely felt guilty for using his crush to his advantage but he also explicitly told Steve that he wasn’t looking to date anyone. Besides his father would go ballistic on him, he distinctly told him he wasn’t allowed to date anyone, and I quote, ‘until you find a guy who has his own business that I can buy and make sure that I have control over him’.

Peter was drawn out of his thoughts when he realized there was a shadow cast over him. Peter turned and titled his head up, there standing was his saving grace in the hands of his best friend. “One almond milk macchiato with no foam and two shots of espresso for my very beautiful best friend, Peter Stark.”

Sam by Steve’s side made a face and looked at Steve hurt, “I thought I was your beautiful best friend.” Steve ignored him though and smiled beamingly at Peter’s plucked arched eyebrow. “You gonna give me it or are you also my handler.” Nat by his side snorted and shook her head. “Not until you look at my outfit Stark.” Peter rolled his eyes with an apathetic air to him.

Peter didn’t like playing Steve’s silly games, but he still wanted his coffee and he wanted it now. So he let his eyes roam up and down Steve’s body. A Classic Damier Pique polo and nice fitted dusty blue slacks. He wore a smirk on those lips every female seemed to love and his blonde hair was slicked back with a pair of black Gucci sunglasses on his head.

Peter furrowed his brows and glared at Natasha who was pointedly not catching his eyes. “Did Nat tell you we were matching with Louis today?”

“Just took a wild guess, cuz I know she knows what I like on you.” Peter rolled his eyes and feigned a vexed look. “You know I told you I can't have you flirting with me Stevie, I'm not allowed to date.” Steve shrugged his shoulders and handed over Peter’s drink.

“You know you can't keep me away from you, doll.” Sam scoffed next to him and shook his head, walking away from the situation and heading towards the benches where their friends stood.

“You better follow your only source of affection before he decides to not hold your hand anymore when your feelings get hurt.” Peter waved his hand in a dismissive way and turned back to the table.

Steve shook his head, even though Peter wasn’t paying any more attention to him. Sometimes Steve wishes he could just smack the sense into Peter that he would do anything to be with him. Maybe instead of a smack, it’d be a kiss.

----------

At Eleven Madison Park, Peter dined with his father, Rhodey, and Dr. Banner. The bright smiles and charisma felt like second nature to Peter, he was taught great mannerisms by his Nonna and Nonno when he used to stay at their condo in Malibu while his dad was out on business trips.

“Listen, all I'm saying Tony, is that Pete has the credentials to be a part of my branch.” Bruce held his hands up in surrender. Peter sipped the glass of champagne idly, pretending that he wasn’t the face of this conversation.

“Oh trust me, I know my genius son has the credentials to be a part of any big business. But I rather him not work for anyone,” Tony cut a piece of steak with vigor and popped it in his mouth.

“Besides he’s too much like me, he wouldn’t listen to you Bruce, he likes challenges.” Bruce laughed and shook his head, looking over at Peter with a smile.

“The kids gotta start somewhere Tones.” Rhodey pointed out with a raised brow, his eyes going over to Peter where he was cutting a sliver from his seasoned lamb. “Jeez, Rhodes you say it like my son can’t start out big.” Tony lifted his wine glass to his lips with a stubborn glint to his eyes, he always did get protective of his son.

“I never said that-” Rhodey was cut off by a phone's ringtone chiming. Tony grunted and pulled out his stark phone with an annoyed air to him. Rhodey looked over to Peter and gave a pleading look, “I never said that Pete.” Peter laughed under his breath and lifted his champagne flute towards Rhodey in a tribute to his faith in the man. “I know Rhodey.”

Rhodey smiled and saluted his glass back, sipping his white wine and looking over at Bruce trying to not grimace at his meal. “Whoever thought to themselves that, “oh yes lamb's tongue sounds like a great meal to serve” should be in prison.” that got Peter smiling wider and knocked the toe of his heel to Bruce’s shin lightly, playfully.

The rest of the dinner was spent with laughs and more teasing, but soon rolled into business talk like it usually trickled into with every event they go to. But before his dad started going on one of his rants on his current projects, Dr. Banner quickly set his wine glass down from lifting to his mouth and hurriedly said: “Maybe we shouldn’t get into details while Peter is still here?”. The words make Peter stop mid-bite and look up from his plate to see the shifty eyes of one Dr. Banner and Tony Stark. Rhodey seemed just as confused and paused in his own autopilot of taking a sip from his tumbler. But before Peter could try and butt in and demand a reason, the waiter came by and asked if they would like any dessert, to which Peter got distracted by his father shoving a menu of the small assortment of desserts the restaurant served. Tony knew his son had a thing for sweets and got lost in his own world easily once he focused on something else. One point to daddy Stark and zero to the poor spawn of the billionaire.

#winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #natasha romanoff #tony stark #daddytonystark #love triangle #bucky x peter #peter x bucky #peter x steve #steve rogers #bruce banner #inspired by clueless

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aria-writes · 3 years

Text

The Fine Art(s) of Seduction

{Because I am way too proud of this title to let anyone have even a slight chance of missing it.}

“And you’re SURE this will work?” Tegan swallowed thickly and gave his friend an appraising look as he hunched over slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his above-average height.

Tyler nodded confidently and slapped him on the back, grinning, the perfect picture of assured nonchalance and an extreme contrast as he stood next to his bespectacled best bud. “Totally. Chicks dig this kind of… stuff.” He shot one finger gun at Tegan as he elbowed him and clicked his tongue.

“Now come on, just like I demonstrated.”

Tegan tossed a pen to the ground, shakily leaned over to retrieve it by way of bending from the waist with his knees locked, and snapped back upright. A good number of his joints cracked along.

“AHA!” Tadashi threw the door open so forcefully it hit the opposite door with a loud bang as he barreled into the classroom, phonN in recording mode and pad of detention slips at the ready.

“I KNEW... it…” he trailed off, slowly backing up into the wall as his mistake sank in. He had intended to make a clean, swift getaway, but misjudged where the doorway was behind him. The only thing he could do now was to cut his losses and hope all three of them would forget the incident soon enough.

Tyler grinned and waved at him. Well, more towards the phone than Tadashi. “Hi! I’m Wyler Tilliams, and you’re watching Did—”

“...Oh. I thought Axel or Ellie was in here with you. Doing stuff. Against the rules.” Tadashi mumbled sheepishly, slinking back out the door. It was a weak excuse, but it was far too late to recover. He resolved within himself to be absolutely certain next time, and not let his love of laying down the school bylaws get in the way of sound judgement and good sense.

Tyler watched him go, then turned to Tegan and shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, there was a good chance of you hitting your head on a ceiling fan that way, anyway.”

Tegan dropped down into a chair, eyes wide. “What?!”

“No time to waste, onto the next one! Strategy B!” Tyler ran over to him and grabbed him by the arm.

Tegan hastily pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. “But what–”

Tyler shoved a finger right in his face. “DO NOT QUESTION THE PROCESS!”

Tegan bit back a sarcastic comment and sighed. He meant well, but once Tyler was in full Determined Art Kid Mode™, there was no stopping him.

“Come on, come on, we gotta go go go!”

Tegan barely had time to react as Tyler pulled him to his feet and propelled him forwards by pushing him from behind.

“I do not have a speed setting this high!”

~~~~

Viktoria walked out of the main building, swinging her purse back and forth as she walked. She scanned her surroundings for any of her friends. Confirmation output.

There were Tyler and Tegan, over in the corner by one of those circular flowerbeds surrounded by a wall of overlapping stone bricks. She felt her pace slow, the toes of her shoes scuffing on gravel.

Something was different. Off.

They weren’t talking to each other, or laughing, or even nudging each other as you’d expect. They were just standing there, motionless. Calmly. Unobtrusively, even.

Tegan seemed upset? Should she go see what was up, try to comfort him? Or maybe he just wanted space more than anything. No, he was just squinting. Why would he be…

What happened to his glasses?

Viktoria observed the two of them for a bit, but they didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Tyler in particular seemed to stare right through her. She shuddered and continued walking past, then made a wide circle back and dropped behind the other side of the wall once she was sure they were no longer watching her. Being small at least came with a few perks.

Tyler cleared his throat, picking up right where he had left off without missing a beat. “ And then once you drop that line, you lean in all smooth-like, and best case scenario they’re also leaning in—”

“Like this?” Tegan interrupted, his tone quizzical.

Viktoria dared a glance and slowly raised her head and shoulders, startling at the sound of them yelping in unison. She quickly pushed the stems of a clump of orange tulips to the side and was rewarded by the unmistakable sight of TnT dropping to the ground in pain, accompanied by the sound of two dull thumps.

She shoved a fist against her mouth to muffle any potential noises of ausement, but enough air escaped to be audible. Oh no.

Tegan groaned like a water buffalo in heat and rolled over so he was lying facedown on the pavement. “That’s it, Tyler. I’m tapping out for today. Romance is overrated anyway, I have my waifu body pillows to love me.” He gathered his legs up underneath himself and painstakingly got up, then trudged in the direction of the dorms.

Viktoria hit the deck as Tyler slowly rounded the flowerbed and squeezed her eyes shut, willing for him to not see her.

“MISSION FAILED!” Tyler yelled right above her head, and Viktoria shoved her fist against her mouth for the second time that afternoon.

She sat up on her heels quickly and was about to retort when she noticed just how agitated Tyler looked.

“I can’t believe you saw all that!” Tyler squatted down to get on her level. “I am disgruntled! Not that I wouldn't’ve done the exact same thing had I been in your situation, but that is not the point-”

Viktoria plucked a leaf from her hair and let it drop. “Tadpole probably did too.”

Tyler steadied himself with one hand on the dirt. “Who what now?”

“Tadpole… Tadashi.” Viktoria motioned vaguely upwards. “The new security system? Yanno, he has direct access to the security feeds that the cameras are recording, and...”

Tyler groaned as if the news caused him physical pain and let his head hang down, forehead nearly brushing the ground as his free hand moved to his knee. “Wonderful.”

He straightened up and grinned brightly. “Well, hey, now that you know, I guess you gotta confess now!”

Viktoria blinked once. “No.”

Tyler threw his hands up in the air in frustration and annoyance. “Oh come on! Why not? What possible reason could you still have after all that?”

Viktoria took a strand of her own hair and began twisting it between her two palms. “Because if he’s been rehearsing, then that can only logically mean he wants to be the one to make the first move, on his own timetable. Yes? No?”

“Yes, but—” Tyler started. “But I— Ugh!” He slapped his hand against his forehead and slowly ran it down his face with a weary sigh. “You two deserve each other. Ay caramba.”

Viktoria stood, then offered her hands to Tyler, who accepted them after a brief pause and one more vexed glare. “Impossible. Both of you. I expect some sort of compensation in both of your living wills.”

“Yeah, okay.” VIktoria quietly watched with appraising eyes as he dusted off the shoulders of her jacket.

“You know, he’s really lucky to have you.”

Tyler turned towards the direction of the dormitories and shrugged halfheartedly. “Meh. I guess I’m entertaining, I guess.”

He laughed as he pulled open the door. “I said ‘I guess’ twice in that sentence.”

Viktoria turned around and walked backwards through the doorway, then grabbed him by the shoulders as he followed her in. “Hey. Do not sell yourself short.”

Tyler crossed his arms and made a show of noticeably scanning her up and down. “You’re right, that’s your job.”

Viktoria made a strangling motion with her hands, eyes filling with a murderous rage.

“TYLER WILLIAMS YOU ARE D-E-A-D DEAD—”

Tyler maneuvered past her and started running down the hall for dear life, shrieking. “AAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Tag list: @arlingtonssweetheart @sloth707

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finnskeeper · 3 years

Text

Critical Role - Campaign 1 (Thoughts Machina): Episodes 112-115

AKA: THE END IS NIGH

ROFL Scanlan with a 31 Charisma check...God Tier

DO NOT KILL J'MON

Is that a fucking DRACOLICH MATTHEW??

A million plans, none of them work. Peak D&D

ROFL Kiki rolling a 1 on her Stealth check then full on crossed arms Dracula falling into the earth as an earth elemental to escape is so good and I love her for it

VEX YOU HAVE THE GATE STONE. VEX. YOU HAVE THE GATE STONE.

Well that definitely happened

Vax don't go back. If you go back to the door, Vecna will know where the door is!

I love the mental image of ethereal Vex jumping around the sword's location as earth elemental Kiki searches frantically

All of these failed investigation checks - I'm convinced this is why Marisha made a high Int character for C2

Sam what are you wearing on your head?

Cosmic Bear!

Hey there Delilah...

AND SYLAS?

BITCH BYE

Man, Grog seriously needs to stop talking to swords

It's such a trip to hear them talking about Artagan

Marisha in C1: Maybe Artagan will help us! He liked us before! Marisha in C2: If I see Artagan, I'm going to punch him in the face.

"I wish to strangle you until death." Entire table loses it.

"This is so fucked up." MATT YOU DID THIS

Oh god...Liam is doing goodbye stuff.

Oh, this guest PC is cool

Fuck you Delilah!

Hey Sylas got away. Surely that's not going to come back to bite them.

Undead Delilah!! That is terrible and great

Aldor?!? NOOOOO

Oh god...is Lyra okay? WHAT ABOUT ZAHRA AND KASH?

MATTHOLOMEW

Oh...oh no...Kaylie and Cassandra...that is super fucked up

Laura is a WRECK

MATT YOU ARE EVIL

WE JUST FIXED THAT TEMPLE

Okay, but that sundered map is dope

Oooohhh...poor Velora. We can fix that later.

Travis: "Matt, Matt, let's just...call a truce."

LET'S GOOOOOOO....I'm so glad Kash and Z are okay

Aaaaaand they're gone

WHAT BABY, ZAHRA??

Man, it would have been so cool if Matt could have figured out a way to kaleidoscope all of the season's guest stars into the finale. I know it's not feasible, but my nerd heart can dream.

How in the world is there still an hour and a half to go?

"I was gonna save Vax." awww...Scanlan...bud-dee

LIAM STAHP

ROFL bye Arkhan

Oh Kash...I have missed your quirky sense of humor

Uh...Grog? You maybe wanna put that sword down?

Do we really need to think about Sylas right now? You guys just defeated a god. Take a breather.

Oh god...it's gonna happen soon...I'm not ready

PIKE!

Oh here we go...Marisha is already a mess

Percy no...that's not...

Liam has begun his goodbyes....how long can I maintain composure (it's a trick question, I never had it)

MATT'S CRYING...GODDAMMIT MATT I CANNOT HANDLE THIS ALREADY

"I will tell your mother that you say hello." I am now a blubbering mess.

Level 20 baby

"I know it's arcane. Shut up, it's fine." ROFL I love Allura

GROG

I love Matt's face. He was not prepared for this.

ROFL, you pulled the worst card but it's the last ep so we'll just gloss over that and say you're okay. EPILOGUE TIME

Scanlan and Pike HEA? More likely than you think.

Tary!

ROFL Marisha's face when Grog turned himself in...

Man, I was mostly okay until LIAM started crying...

"And every day that raven comes to visit" is such a badass closing line to this campaign. Well done.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

So much more of the fandom makes sense now, as do some of the C2 jokes. My friend is just starting C2, and she posts all of the jokes and nods to C1 and I totally get them now! All in all, I’m kind of glad I watched C2 first, but I am also glad to have experienced C1. Though I do wonder what my reaction would have been to the Artagan reveal had I known who he was from the beginning.

Next up for me is getting caught up on all of the one-shots and smaller sesh stuff like Undeadwood.

#critical role #vox machina #campaign 1 #vax'ildan #vex'ahlia #percy de rolo #keyleth #grog #scanlan shorthalt #pike trickfoot #thoughts machina

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cornfields-and-bad-dreams · 3 years

Text

@failsnail requested Fiona meeting the crazy assholes a bit ago and I finally finished it.

summary: Fiona is new to Los Santos and has a run in with some drunk assholes.

work count :2000

Rating: PG 13

Fiona was new to Los Santos, only been in the city for two days but already she was learning what kinda place it was. She'd come home from picking up some take out to find her apartment door wide open, inside was a mess, all her things thrown about and scattered on the floor. Luckily she didn't have anything of real value, some jewelry was missing as was her laptop, but that thing was so old the robbers had done her a service taking it. Still, Fiona felt extremely vexed to have something like this happen so quickly after moving in. Putting everything back where it belonged she finally got around to eating.

"I hope the rest of the week will be better."

It wasn't.

The rest of the week was just as infuriating as how it'd began. Fiona had to pay out of pocket to get her apartment door fixed, the job she'd moved for fell through, her clucker of a car got stolen, and to round off the week she just happened to be at the bank when some half-wits wearing pantyhose over their heads decided to rob it. Well, try to rob it would be a better description, the idiots obviously didn't know what they were doing and got arrested pretty quickly. Still, though, the whole experience left Fiona very agitated.

It was Saturday night and Fiona had decided to go for a walk, she needed fresh air and the cool autumn breeze felt perfect. The tension she'd been carrying all week was almost completely gone when once again, Fiona found herself in the middle of trouble. Three men had just come out of a bar up ahead of her, the trio was loud and obviously intoxicated. Fiona tried her best to ignore the men as they stumbled down the sidewalk leaning on and shoving each other around, but as all four of them came to meet, the shortest of the men got pushed into Fiona. Fiona fell to the pavement and the three men kept going as if nothing happened, in hindsight, they probably didn't realize what they'd done, but at the moment Fiona felt livid that they'd just ignored her. Getting to her feet she hurried to meet them once again.

"Hey." Fiona grabbed the guy in the middle and spun him around the face her "Are you really just going to walk off without apologizing?"

The man sneered as his two friends watched in confusion.

"What's your problem lady?" He swayed back and forth, unsteady on his feet.

"My problem? My problem is you. You and your buddy there," she pointed at the shorter man "just knocked me down."

"What are you going on about?" The shorter man spoke.

"Yeah, what's this fuss all about?" the third man spoke in an English accent.

"I don't know who you think you are talking to us like that, but you better back off, or else you're going to get yourself in trouble."

"Yeah, tell her Michael." The British one cheered.

"You're messing with Mogar, the Golden Boy, and Rimmy Tim now. So you better beware." Michael continued.

Fiona took a step closer getting right in Michael's face.

"I don't know who you are, but you do not get to shove me down and walk away as if nothing happened."

"Get out of my face." Micheal gave Fiona a shove.

It was at this moment that Fiona's temper reached its limit. Taking a swing she clocked Michael right in the face. The shorter man moved to respond but Fiona quickly stopped him with a swift kick to the crotch. The British one made an odd noise that got Fiona's attention, turning to him he stepped back. Fiona narrowed her eyes at him.

"You better not pull anything or I'm gonna break that big nose of yours."

The man nodded vigorously and moved to help his friends.

"Now let that be a lesson to you all not to be fucking rude."

Fiona turned and left. Leaving the men to recompose themselves. As Fiona walked away the realization of what had just happened settled in. Fiona shook a bit, looking back behind her to see if she was being followed, luckily she wasn't. Fiona finally made it back to her apartment, dead bolting the door she collapsed onto the couch. Steadying her breath she flipped on the TV, it came to life on the news channel, she was about to change the channel when a picture popped up that made her freeze.

"Earlier today three Fake AH Crew members went on an impromptu race through the city, sources say it was Michael "Mogar" Jones, the Golden Boy, and Rimmy Tim, or as they've been dubbed, The Lads."

It was the men, the guys she'd just encounter. Fiona's heart raced, being new to the city she didn't know much about the FAHC but from what she'd heard, they were the top criminals around. Fear paralyzed her as the thought of retaliation crossed her mind. What if they found her? What could they possibly do? Thoughts raced through her head. That night Fiona didn't get any sleep

It was a week later and Fiona was still nervous but kept reassuring herself that nothing was gonna happen, the three were probably too drunk to remember what had happened, and even if they did surely they had more important things to deal with than some random civilian. Right?

Fiona was on her way to work, she'd been able to get a job at a convenience store down the block from her, and was almost there when a car came to a screeching halt in front of her. The car then backed up to be beside.

"Excuse me?" The window rolled down revealing the Golden Boy.

Fiona's heart nearly stopped, she quickly realized that Michael and Rimmy Tim were also in the car. The thought of running entered her mind but seeing as she was on foot and they were in a car, she figured it wasn't a fair chance.

"Sorry to bother you love, but we wanted to talk to you." The man spoke softly and sounded nervous.

"W-what?" Was all Fiona was able to get out.

The back door of the car popped open and Rimmy Tim looked up at her awkwardly.

"We were hoping we could talk with you, maybe drive around a little? If that's okay with you?"

Fiona's mind said no but her body said yes, nodding, she hesitantly got in the backseat with Rimmy Tim, shutting the door behind her. The car pulled out and they were quickly passing her job.

"So," started Michael "We wanted to say sorry for last week."

"Yeah, we were piss-drunk and didn't know what we were doing. We're all very sorry for the way things happened." Spoke the man in the passenger's seat.

"Is that all?" Fiona asked, realizing her tone was a bit accusatory she quickly covered her mouth.

The men laughed and shook their heads.

"No, actually our boss wanted to meet you. Said he had to meet the girl who beat some sense into us." Rimmy Tim replied.

"Your boss? He's the King Pin, right?"

"Yeah, you're not from around here are you?" asked Michael, a hint of a laugh to his voice.

"No, I just moved here two weeks ago."

"Well, that explains why you weren't afraid of us huh? You didn't know who we were." Rimmy Tim was the one to laugh this time.

Fiona chuckled lightly too, the men were much different from their first impression. The car was silent a moment before the Golden Boy spoke.

"I'm Gavin by the way, that's Jeremy, and this is Michael."

"It's nice to meet you."

"You don't gotta lie you know, you're not gonna hurt our feelings." Michael laughed.

Fiona started to calm down, her once tense body slowly relaxing. The four spoke some more before eventually pulling into the parking garage of a large building. Gavin opened the back door for Fiona after they got parked and the three men lead her to an elevator. Getting in Jeremy hit the button for the top floor. Soon the elevator doors opened to a beautiful penthouse suite, stepping out Fiona looked around, it was all so amazing. She'd never been anywhere so lavish.

"You can have a seat on the couch if you'd like, I'm gonna go get Geoff," Gavin said.

Fiona took a seat as Gavin disappeared down a hallway. Jeremy offered Fiona a drink which she politely declined, even if the men were being friendly now, she didn't want to risk it. From down the hall where Gavin had disappeared a loud voice could be heard yelling.

"You actually got the girl?" Fiona could only assume it was the King Pin, Geoff was what Gavin called him?

The sound of several frantic footsteps drew closer and closer until Geoff and a woman appeared from the hall.

"You have got to be kidding me." the woman sighed.

Fiona felt nervous again, the guys had said their boss wanted to meet her, but this didn't seem to line up at all.

"Please tell me you didn't kidnap her." Geoff looked back and forth between the three lads.

"No way, she totally came of her own free will." Jeremy insisted.

The woman made her way over to Fiona and sat down gently beside her.

"Are you alright? They didn't pull anything did they?"

"No, I'm fine." She looked over to Gavin and Michael who were next to Geoff "It was a bit, startling to suddenly see them again, and it was odd to be invited for a drive."

The woman glared at the lads before turning back to Fiona.

"I'm so sorry for them, they're moron."

Geoff came and leaned against the sofa.

"When the lads told us about what had happened I commented that I wanted to meet you, but I didn't expect them to actually track you down."

"We didn't track her down." Michael defended "We just happened to see her and thought it would be good to apologize and see if she'd be willing to come over."

"If you don't want me here I can leave."

Geoff shook his head rubbing at his temple.

"No, you're already here it's fine. I'm Geoff by the way, I don't know if the guys said who I was, this is Jack." He gestured towards the woman. "Since you are here, I would like to say you did a pretty good job handling these three. They can be quite a handful when they're drunk."

"It was no trouble."

The group sat around and talked late into the night, food was ordered, movies were watched, games were played. Fiona could hardly believe it but these hardened criminals seemed more like a family than anything else. It was weird being a part of it with them, but at the same time, it felt right. Gavin had passed out on the couch, Jeremy was in the bathroom, Michael and Jack had returned to their rooms for the night, leaving Fiona and Geoff to clean up.

"You know, tonight was really fun," Geoff spoke.

"It was. Can't believe it was real, to be honest, but it was definitely fun."

"This doesn't have to be a one-time thing." Geoff looked over at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you join us? You'd fit right in and we'd love to have you."

"I don't know, it's a wonderful offer, but I don't know if this is the life for me."

Geoff chuckled.

"Think it over. You can stay the night, by the way, hate to send you home this late."

"Thanks, and I will think it over. This has been the best day I've had since moving here."

"Glad we could be a part of it."

Geoff showed Fiona to a spare bedroom and retired to his room for the night. Crawling into bed Fiona smiled.

"Maybe I don't need to think it over that much."

#fahc #fahc fic #fahc fiona #fiona nova #ah fiona #writing #fanfic #my writing

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loneswaggingranger · 4 years

Text

Does it matter?

By @loneswagger for @pixiethefirecat7

This is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Bruce Banner, May Parker

Summary:

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched away from him.

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.” -

The one where Tony Stark lives with a metal arm, Steve Rogers never became old, and Peter Parker baffles at how incredibly fine they make everything seem. Or, the one where Peter Parker becomes Tony's designated spokesperson. Seriously, what would they do without him? (Nothing, apparently.)

Story under the cut! Hope you like it~

Does it hurt?

He once found Tony shirtless and utterly wasted in the lab, drowning in a sea of one too many shattered decanters, knuckles gone white from wringing that outdated burner phone for who knows how long. Crimson dribbled from calloused palms across scarred flesh, to ripped jeans over to shimmering glass shards littered upon sullied floors.

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched.

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.”

When Peter came home, he expected many things. He expected his dingy little apartment with the wafting smells of May’s burnt bread, imagined snuggling on the couch with her, and watching cheesy soap operas all through the night. He expected those weekly sessions with just him and Mr. Stark in the lab, planning, tinkering and innovating without a care in the world, positively shining whenever Mr. Stark whistled and said, “You got brains, kid.”

He should have known, expectations rarely matched up with reality.

Said notion found him in front of his lunch one day, mumbling, “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“Oh?” A tilted look of concern.

“I just- I never expected this, y’know?” Peter twirled a fork aimlessly between his fingers, eyes trained so hard on his meal he thought it might start sizzling soon. Or evaporate into dust. Whichever seemed possible at this rate. “It’s not bad, I mean, you have a great family and an actual kid now- which is totally cool, by the way! And May - May has Happy now, so the apartment's not that empty anymore, a-and she smiles a whole lot more these days. Which is good, I guess. The Accords isn’t even a legit thing anymore, the Avengers come together to sing Kumbaya every other weekend,” His fingers tightened round the fork. “Everything’s all good, yeah?”

There probably would have been a reply, if it wasn't for the tell-tale thump of approaching footsteps Peter never dreamed of growing familiar with.

“Afternoon, Captain Doritos,” Mr. Stark’s drawl felt appeasing at best, challenging at worst.

Captain Rogers threw a half-glance his way, nodding curtly. He went for the fridge in two large strides, swiping out a carton of milk and downing its contents in one vigorous go.

“Ugh, you’re gross, Cap, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Mr. Stark rose from his seat, lightly tousling Peter’s hair as he went. “Finish your grub and hang in the lab with me later, yeah?” His eyes seemed to soften. “It‘ll be just like old times.”

Old times. Right.

“Also-” Mr. Stark slapped the good Captain’s shoulder, smirking wildly at the vexed ‘Oi!’ that elicited. “If we’re watching anything remotely Disney tonight, I’m going back to Pep’s for the weekend.”

“For that alone, we’re watching Moana, Frozen and Mulan!” Captain Rogers hollered after the retreating metal middle finger shot high in the air, shaking his head once it fully disappeared down the hallway. A bemused look. “What’s wrong with Disney?”

Peter scoffed, grin plastered expertly on his face.

Another thing that didn’t make sense, this song and dance. This parade of concealed emotions, this system of tactical meet-and-retreat, this exhibition of faux jaunt put up for one another. The shake in Captain’s tone, the tremor in Mr. Stark’s arm - almost indiscernible and yet there it was. Always there, each time Peter looked.

Captain’s carton of milk slid into the bin by his feet. “So how was your week, son?”

Peter chewed on his noodles thoughtfully. “Tiring, I guess. Lots of homework. Also-” He made a face. “Son? Seriously? How nineteen-thirties can you get, Cap?”

Captain rolled his eyes, mock indignance in his stance. “Great. I have to deal with two Tony Starks in the team now, don’t I?”

“Exactly,” Peter smirked, drawing out the last syllable slightly.

He remembered piecing uncharacteristically silent calls with his own incessant chatter, so that the harsh breaths pulsating on the other end would finally, finally smoothen out. He remembered resting a hand over Tony’s arrhythmically flouncing heart, coaxing him for a meal, a drink or to just breathe. He remembered whispering to him in a voice so soft yet so firm, “Mr. Stark? Mr. St-Tony? Tony, it’s me. It’s Peter. No one else is here, okay? You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

He remembered the world of hurt his hero went through.

It wasn’t like Peter never asked.

He tried asking during the quiet moments, when he and Mr. Stark were the only ones up at ass ‘o clock, when Mr. Stark strolled into the kitchen for customary morning tea (Pepper said weekends were coffee-free days). He tried asking during the loud ones too, when Mr. Stark was drunk on whatever alcohol he was having, when all the Avengers were in the room, because surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to brag about a good story in front of everyone, right? Wrong. That particular fiasco ended with more than a couple uncomfortable looks, a pale-faced Mr. Stark storming out of said room and a flustered Peter trailing after him with his dozen apologies.

It got to the point where Mr. Stark had to sit Peter down, look him in the eye and say, “That’s it.” His finger, the metal one, dug deep into Peter’s collared shirt. “Stop it, kid. Me and Rogers, whatever happened between the two of us, it’s got nothing to do with you. And we’re fine now. We’re fixed. We watch Star Wars and Harry Potter every other Sunday, for god’s sake. There’s no better that we can get.” The other hand pressed on his arm shakily, a sort of pleading in the motion. “You don’t have to do anything for us anymore. Alright?”

Peter stopped asking after that.

Instead, he made observations. His eyes tracked each subtle gesture of wistful longing between the two, sometimes bordering on spontaneous animosity. Day and night, he made summaries, graphs, charts and fifty-one five-page essays for ten days in a row, writing and writing like he was running out of time.

He conducted interviews too.

Colonel Rhodes shook his head so adamantly when Peter pulled him aside for one of his trademark inquiry sessions, refusing to divulge anything more than a clipped but not unkind, "There’s definitely problems this team hasn't come to terms with yet, but it doesn’t fall on your shoulders to solve them, Peter." Dr. Banner had been much more forthcoming, nodding along to Peter’s mini monologue of observations. He even pitched in some of his own discoveries as to how the two skirted around each other when there was or wasn’t an audience, albeit with a mild warning that some things aren’t meant to be pushed too hard.

Even Bucky once appeared in front of Peter’s room, bouquet of purple hydrangeas and mug of hot chocolate in tow after one particularly brutal sparring session which had ended with one man’s ruptured blood vessel and another’s broken nose. He spent an hour trying to convey that, that was just their way of resolving conflict, their way of getting things out of their system. There wasn’t much that could be done about it. There wasn’t much they could do about it.

Or so they said.

But how many sleepless dawns after patrol had Peter spent - huddled under blankets in front of a glaring screen, scouring his way through Friday’s systems, keying in every code, every digit he thought would lead him to the right answer. Something, anything that he could work with.

Two months, twenty days and twelve hours later, he found it. The answer. Or at least, a part of it.

It wasn’t pretty.

He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew that The Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky, that the man in the video was just Hydra’s brainwashed lackey, that the Bucky he was familiar with would never consent to do anything remotely similar to what he had seen him do. He knew this, and yet some nights still found him jolting awake in a sea of his own sweat; May’s gasps echoing Maria Stark’s dying wheeze, Howard and Tony Stark’s pleas morphing into one, cold unflinching gaze haunting all the moments he fell quiescent.

In the moments that he was restless, however, Peter resumed his search. He ploughed through the frights and horrors and sleepless dawns even more frenetically than he first did, because if he didn’t get to the bottom of this, no one else would. Because he knew there was more than just ‘The Winter Soldier murdered Mr. Stark’s parents’; there was always more.

Because what use was a team, if all its splintered souls did nothing to embrace their blemishes?

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hm?”

“Wanna’ skip out on the theater gig tonight?” Alloyed fingers drummed idly on the lab table. “We could stay in here for a bit, work on those web-shooter combinations. Could order some tacos. Or pizza. Your choice.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Thought it was supposed to be tradition.”

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda’ sick of Rogers' princess movie obsession,” His eyes drifted upwards, thumbs twiddling. “You could go, though. If you want.”

Peter pulled back without missing a beat, eyes widening in comical fashion. “No, are you crazy? Lab night with pizza? When do I ever turn that down, Mr. Stark?”

An honest grin slid across Mr. Stark’s features. “Never.”

“That’s right.” Peter closed his eyes, leaning into the touch rifling through his unkempt locks. “Never.”

It didn’t make sense.

Did you know?

I didn’t know it was him.

Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!

Yes.

Peter watched, and still, nothing made sense.

He’s my friend.

So was I.

It. didn’t. make. sense.

Blinding white tore across the starless city sky in sharp erratic bursts, heated claws threatening to eliminate all in its path with each stroke of rampant rage. Ice-cold rivulets knocked mercilessly against bare skin, freezing the seconds ticking by as raddled sneakers thrummed upon asphalt, each reverberating cadence in perfect harmony with the furious anthem of unvoiced justice pumping through his veins.

Said anthem soared ever the more when the Captain’s door flung open, pounding hard at the seemingly bewildered face meeting his view.

"Peter? What's wrong?" The golden boy scanned him up and down, concern thick in his tone. "Why aren't you in your suit? Did something happ-"

Peter threw the answer up in his face, letting the phone explain everything as he panted over bent knees. The stark silence that ensued spoke for itself.

"Stevie, what's- oh." Him. No, Bucky. "Peter. You're- why don't we all come inside, yeah? Rain's pouring out here." The voice, so tender, not like. Not like him. Not. Him."I'll put the kettle on."

Which was how Peter ended up in one of Bucky's oversized shirts, settled opposite two war veterans, hands cupped round a mug of hot chocolate and eyes cast in a blatant show of quiet outrage.

"Explain," The anthem burned strong in him.

"Son-"

"Don't call me son."

"-this was all on me, alright?" Dejected tone, blonde head bowed over clasped hands.

Good.

“I- we disagreed on the Accords because-”

“I don’t care about that, Captain,” Peter set the mug down, flexing his fingers mechanically. “The Accords was rigged to begin with. Whatever that came after, shouldn’t be put on anyone but Ross, that I get.” He pressed a finger to the cracked screen of his phone. “No Captain, I’m talking about this.”

Captain Rogers stared at him with eyes so blue, but like the sick man in the video pointed out, there was a hint of green in that blue. A flaw.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” The captain leaned back into his seat, where Bucky’s prosthetic arm (that Tony Stark built for him) was stretched rigidly upon. “I thought that by not telling him, I was sparing him from the sorrow. But really, I was just sparing myself. I- I never meant for him to get hurt. And I’m sure, neither did he.”

Oddly, that last sentence was what pushed Peter over the edge.

“Neither did he?” His jaw clenched. “Neither did- are you seriously saying that right now? Of course he didn’t mean to hurt you! If he had any control over the situation, any control of the information that you withheld from him, he would not have done that.”

“I know, Peter.”

“Do you?” He hissed. “Do you really? Do you know the pain of losing your parents, of not knowing what the hell happened to them except that ‘They died in an accident’? Do you know the want, the pure want, to kill the piece of shit that took their lives, that walked free as you mourned their deaths? That ripped them from you, before you even got to know them?” His fists shook in tandem with the throbbing crescendo of his anthem. “Do you know, how Mr. Stark fought for you behind the scenes? How he wrote and rewrote proposals to alter The Accords, only to be rejected by Ross time and time again? How he hired lawyers and sometimes personally went to vouch for the others in the Raft? How he lost sleep at night, how he drank himself into oblivion, whimpering your name, begging me each time not to tell Mrs. Pepper or Rhodes, because apparently, it didn’t matter?”

Captain Rogers stiffened in his seat.

“Do you know?”

“No, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

Bucky remained a stock still statue by the Captain’s side.

Peter sighed, shoulders sagging. Deep breath, calm down. “Sorry.” The lingering pulse of anguish pushed to the back of his mind. “That was uncalled for. Sorry. ”

“Don’t be.” Bucky replied with haste.

Peter made another haphazard gesture towards their object of discussion. “Did you guys ever try talking to him about this?”

“I wrote him a letter.”

“Yeah, and sent him a burner phone, I know.” Peter snapped, tone sharp. “Scintillating ultimatum you gave him, by the way. He broke it in his fists after two whole months of drinking and staring.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, Cap,” His fingers tapped the mug handle almost frantically. “Say that to Tony. He needs to hear it.”

“It’s only two years for you, Peter, but it’s been seven for us. He might’ve- he might not want to hear about this anymore. We’re fine like this.”

“Bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t notice the way you both act with each other. You guys really need to solve this shit,” Peter mulled over his words, before adding, “By solve, I mean talk about it. Not punch the living daylights out of each other.”

Captain Rogers shrugged hopelessly. “We don’t talk about things like this. It’ll just escalate, and then we’d be throwing fists all over again. Might as well get that done without scarring our hearts more than it already has been.”

“Are you serious?” Muted wrath threatened to positively devour the mug in his hands. “Dude, we could have lost Tony in that war. He could have snapped his fingers, and that would have been the last we saw of him. Would you have lived with this then? Not talking about this, because neither of you can stop feeding your very physical ego for one goddamn second? Because neither of you were brave enough to listen?”

Again, the stark silence spoke for itself.

“You need to talk about this.”

“Look, son-”

“Damn it, Cap!” Peter roared, fists banging against the table. “Call me son one more time!” The mad beast reared its horrendous head, yanking his vocal chords to unrivalled heights, fuelled by the heated flames that grew larger and fiercer with each thunderous beat. It fed off the tension, the visceral need to rip, maw and absolutely pulverise anything and everything that it could find.

Reddened eyes, full of tears unshed, reflected one another transparently.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

“Honestly,” He stood, mug left untouched, voice barely over a whisper. “With all due respect, Captain Rogers. You’re a fucking dick.”

Peter left, door slam behind him, along with Captain’s echoed ‘Wait!’ and Bucky’s muted ‘Kid’s got a point, Steve.’

Peter thought that if he found the answer, everything would make sense. Or, at the very least, he would feel better about things not making sense.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

The first night he stopped searching, his phone rang like the house was on fire.

Mr. Stark had been the first to call. Followed by Colonel Rhodes, then Bucky, then Captain Rogers, then Dr. Banner, and then subsequently the rest of what his team was supposed to consist of.

He refused to answer. He didn’t care if his phone burst from being called 24/7. He didn’t care.

Instead, he spent the rest of his time doing what he did best - he looked out for the little guy. He threw himself in front of cars inches away from crashing into one another, saved kittens from trees, taught children how to look both ways before crossing the street, spent time with that tired old man sitting alone on the park bench every week.

And when he wasn’t doing this, he was with May. May and Happy, sometimes, but mostly May.

He did his homework, with May. He had breakfast, lunch and essentially all his meals, with May. He watched those cheesy soap operas he missed, with May. He did all the things he longed to do, mourning the years that he lost, with May.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Maybe it was her firm arms cradling his head, maybe it was her tentative whisper, but there was something about hearing May calling him baby that made a lump form in his throat.

“I don’t know.”

May hummed. “Do you want to talk to Tony about it?”

“No,” Peter sniffed. “Not for now.”

“Okay, baby,” May rubbed the back of his neck in a way that only she knew how. “That’s okay.”

He stopped going for movies and lab nights on the weekends.

bucko (4:03 a.m.) : Hey punk, stevie and tony talked it out for a while. wasn’t pretty but, it was necessary, I think. you’re a legend, kid

coolestdoctorr(4:23 a.m.): I heard what you did. We all needed that to happen eventually. Thank you for being the bravest of us, for acknowledging our flaws and for bringing our team together as best as you can. Take as much rest as you need, and if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to listen. Stay safe, and we love you.

warmachineROX (4:29 a.m.): you did great, Peter. I’m sorry i said you couldn’t do this; those boys really needed a nudge. Thanks for doing what you did. Take care, kid.

so-you-got-detention (4:28 p.m.): Peter, I don’t think there’s anything I can say except I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have talked with him about this 7 years ago. I spent a couple long hours with Tony earlier this weekend. That hardly made up for anything, but we’ll work it out. Things aren’t perfect, we’ll get it better. We have you to thank for that. I know you’re angry with me, which you have every right to be, but know that if you ever need help, just call me. I’ll be there.

he’s stark, tony stark (5:01 p.m.): b at ur place in 5 mins[sunglasses emoji]

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, kid.”

“Steve mad at me?”

“Definitely not.”

“...You mad at me?”

A pause. “Not really, no,” Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his chin, tilting his head towards Peter. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter felt his lips shiver against his teeth, sheen of moist clouding his vision, head bowed low and voice crackling, “It does.”

Arms, one alloyed and the other so very real, quietly rolled themselves round his trembling frame, guiding his head towards the steady rise and fall of his hero’s chest, flesh thumb rubbing slow circles over his back, whispers of soft nothings soothing his hair and eventually, a light peck on the forehead.

They stayed like that for a while, beside Peter’s unmade bed, melancholic warmth emanating like cool salve on an open wound. It was comforting, that lack of sound, that silence that spoke the thousand words they couldn’t.

And then, the patented smirk. “You did good, kid,” His tone, so fond. “Friday probably thinks otherwise, though. She’s a little pissed, I think. Kudos for that, by the way. Real sneaky.”

Purely on a whim, Peter snorted, “Love you too, Tony.”

For a moment, it looked as though Tony might just melt into an emotional puddle of goo. Thankfully, he didn’t; Peter wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath, squeezed Peter closer to his heart, and in a voice smaller than Peter had ever heard, muttered,“Lab night this Sunday?”

Peter, in all his glorious mess of tears and snot, broke into a wobbly laugh.

Always.

#friendly-neighborhood-exchange #this was fun

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corablackstock · 4 years

Text

Ezcabith

Ezcabith was settling into retirement quite nicely. Oh sure, they had been retired for a few decades now, but when one has lived for over a millennium or two, decades hardly felt like more than minutes. No, Ezcabith was still settling after so short a time and was enjoying themselves.

Their hoard glistened in the rising sun and set the cave aglow. Sometimes they would sweep their tail, just so that they could watch the reflected light shift and refract across the cave's walls. Ezcabith had spent the last thousand years out in the world collecting treasure in preparation for said retirement. True, for a dragon it was barely passable, but that had no sway over Ezcabith.

Their youth had been spent travelling the world, then middle age they had been acting as a primary adviser on the dragon council. It was only when one of their colleagues had mentioned retirement that Ezcabith thought of it. A sensation almost like panic rose up in them, and an internal clock began counting down in ominous tones.

They had never really thought of collecting a hoard before. When other dragons had been chasing the ends of the world for a so desired prize, they had just been chasing the world. The had just enjoyed being carried away to the next adventure, and then when they had enough of that they became busy with the council, advising and debating, agreeing or disagreeing with plans, the occasional fight to the death. When one thought of it, it really was no surprise Ezcabith had had no thoughts of retirement. Still, retirement came, and Ezcabith became forced to think about it.

Now, it is known that a dragon can choose any number of items or themes for their personal hoard. One could choose to hoard beautiful people or have a collection of books, weapons, artifacts, anything really. Ezcabith had an acquaintance who collected rocks! Not even gems, just plain old rocks.

Ezcabith was not quite so heathen as ordinary rocks but hadn't known what to collect. They liked knowledge, but books were so flammable. They had collected a few keepsakes during their travels, but nothing that really struck them as a theme. A dwarven helmet, some vampires' coffin, a griffins' skull, a magic mirror, pegasi feathers, a couple other trinkets. Nothing that had a theme, just things that had seemed interesting at the time.

And so came the decision for an old favourite; treasure.

As Ezcabith nestled into the pile of gold coins they reflected that treasure had been a good choice. Gold and gems were so simple to care for. Treasure didn't get rusty like armour or collects dust the same way as figurines. One didn't have to worry about mold or any of the hassle that came with animals. No, treasure was a perfect choice. Ezcabith sighed contently at the thought, laying their head down on their paws to go to bed for the day.

"Hello!" a young, melodious voice echoed through the cavern.

Ezcabith growled lowly, ears pricked up. They shoved their muzzle into the treasure. Maybe if they ignored the person, they would just leave.

"Hello!" The voice called out again, not sounding quite as melodious as before. "I know you're in there, so like, just come out already!"

"Oh my Dragon Slayer!" Ezcabith cursed under their breath. With an exaggerated movement and indignant sigh, the dragon rose from their bed and dragged themselves towards the entrance.

"He-"

"I'm coming! Hold your unicorns!"

There was a sound like a partial puff of air escaping someone's mouth. "Ugh, that's like, totally insulting and, like, soooo offensive! Unicorns are an intelligent species, and to suggest that someone would control and own one now, in this day and age, is completely barbaric! Honestly, what kind of being-"

"Oh my stars, would you just shut up?! It's an expression!"

Ezcabith bellowed as they turned the corner to face their visitor.

A human stood before Ezcabith. A female human, and a young one judging by the looks of her. She had a white, lacey top that stopped at her mid-sector, and then a blue garment known as ‘shorts’ that elongated her legs. Golden curls fell down and framed her face beautifully. There was a crown of flowers woven into her hair.

Ezcabith glowered over their snout at her before asking, “What do you want?”

The girl blinked up at them several times before saying, “Wow, rude much? You could, like, at least say hello first.”

Ezcabith puffed some steam out of their nose. “Very well,” they bit out, “hello uninvited human. You’ve harassed me out of my slumber for the day. Now, what…… do you….. Want?”

Frowning, the girl turned and looked up at the sky. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“Excellent observation! You may also observe that I am a nocturnal creature!”

She was silent for a second before the verbal stream started. “Huh, really? Cause, like all the stories about dragons, take place during the day. Like, the knight or hero or whatever spends the night before preparing to fight the next day, and then get up early to dress for battle. And all our paintings and portrayals show it during the day, although I guess it’s just easier to paint something like that in the day. But still, there’s this one picture that hung up in the great hall and the sun is shining down on this dragon as it rose up in the air and- HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!?! DON’T JUST IGNORE ME!!!”

Ezcabith sighed in disappointment. They consoled themselves with the thought that it had been a valiant effort. Wearily they turned partially back to the girl. “If this is all you wish to discuss, the artistic licenses painters will take, then I have better things to attend to. Namely, my bed.”

The girl puffed out her cheeks at the dragon's response. “You know, you’re not very nice.”

Ezcabith squinted at her. “I’m a dragon. The fact you’re not a pile of ash would be considered charitable at this point.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah, whatever, everyone knows the dragon council made a treaty with humans, like, a hundred years ago, that you guys wouldn’t attack us and we wouldn’t attack you guys.”

“Alright,” Ezcabith actually turned to face her again. “First, I am not a *guy*, I am a dragon. Second, it was a hundred and seventy-three years ago, you really need to know your history child. And third, just given our interactions right now, I sincerely doubt that you’d be missed if I did decide to drown you in flames.”

The girl practically began to glow with self-importance. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she said. “Well actually, I’m Lorelei, the Crown Princess of Obandale, said would be quite missed.” She beamed with triumphed at Ezcabith, sure to have impressed them.

The dragon was not impressed.

“Congratulations. Would you like a sticker? I understand that’s what one gives a child to give them the illusion of accomplishment.”

Lorelei’s eyes bulged out of her head as she gasped. As her face turned red she screeched. “HoW dArE yOu?!?! My family has sat on the throne, for like, a really like time! I totally deserve more respect than that and-”

“Child,” Ezcabith interjected, “I am what you would consider ancient. I’ve seen kingdoms fall and rise. Empires set out to conquer and then fade into nothing but a mere memory. I’ve acted as advisors to Emperors, have parlayed with Kings, even spoken to a God or two. I was alive before your kingdom came to be, and will likely outlive it.”

Ezcabith paused to let that sink in before continuing, “So you see, I really couldn't care less about your lineage, and it does not, nor ever will be, a valid reason alone for you to earn respect. You’ll have to try significantly harder than that.”

Ice practically hung in the air around the princess before she muttered, “This was so not how this was supposed to go.” She closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering a bit more to herself. Finally, she addressed the dragon again. “Okay, fine, you’re like, an immortal being who’s seen a lot of stuff.”

She took a deep breath before smiling at Ezcabith, clearly trying to take control of the situation again. “But like, I’m a Princess! Dragons like Princesses! You’re supposed to want to kidnap me and hold me prisoner and-”

“Who said anything about kidnapping?” Ezcabith asked.

Lorelei looked up expectantly. “Well, I mean, it’s sort of obvious. Dragons kidnap princesses. Everyone knows that.”

“No, everyone does not know that because not every dragon likes kidnapping people, only a few of us do. I could never figure out why. It’s an entirely tedious process with no gain from it. I only ever did it to blackmail whatever nobility was being particularly bullheaded about it. I found the whole thing vexing.”

The beautiful maiden gaped at them in a most ungraceful manner. “But you have to kidnap me!” she insisted. “That’s why I came all the way up here so that you could take me as your prisoner!”

Ezcabith blinked at her. Then they blinked again, and then a third time before saying. “I beg your pardon???”

Lorelei looked at them like she thought they were a dunce. “Duh, why else would I climb up the side of a friggin’ mountain?!”

Ezcabith shrugged their haunches, wings moving with them. “I have no idea! You could have been on a quest for knowledge, or maybe to ask for a boon! Stars, you could have just come up here on a whim to impress some comrades! I was expecting anything but a kidnapping! What kind of person wishes to be kidnapped?!” They shook their head and snorted. It was a nervous tick of theirs when they became flustered.

“I hate my parents, okay!” The Princess threw her hands up in the air. “Okay, there, I said it! I hate my parents, and I need to get away from them! They never listen to what I have to say. They don’t care what I want and are trying to make me live my life on their terms!!!”

Ezcabith forlornly brought their wings up over their eyes. “I’m too old for this.” They sighed deeply before continuing, “See here, even if I wanted to help you, which I do not, I can’t. Kidnapping is frowned upon these days-”

“But not illegal,” Lorelei said eagerly. “Look, I double checked the treaty, and dragons are still allowed to kidnap people!”

“Yes, well, that was just a precaution in case humans tried to attack us again. It’s hardly been enacted since the treaty came to fruition.”

“But you’re still legally allowed to use it, which is what I care about!” Lorelei exclaimed. “As long as you don’t harm me, which you won’t because of the treaty, and you haven’t kidnapped the same royal member in a ten-year span, which obviously you haven’t. So you can kidnap me!”

“But I have no desire to,” Ezcabith reminded her. “Listen, girl, I am retired. I don’t get involved in things like this. Besides, everyone dislikes their parents’ at some point! Just because they caught you sneaking out to a ball or your scholarly studies aren’t what they want, doesn’t mean it’s a good reason to run away and seek out strange beings of power! You’ll just have to turn around and go back home. I’m sure your parents-”

“Are going to marry me off!” Lorelei exclaimed in despair.

“Exactly, I’m sure…….. I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

The Princess was starting to tear up now. “They want to marry me off to some prince I hate, and I’m only sixteen, but they want me to be married by midsummer! And it’s all because they caught me kissing Polly!”

Ezcabith tilted their head. “Who’s Polly?”

“She was,” Lorelei sniffled a little before continuing, “she was my maid. She’s really pretty, and nice, and I like her a lot. But my parents caught me kissing her and they freaked out! They’re really old fashioned, and think she’s corrupted me! I tried to tell them that this isn’t new, that I’ve always liked girls, but that just freaked them out more! So they fired Polly and now they want me to marry Prince Justin, who’s the worst! They are all planning the wedding, and it’s April, so they’re going to throw this wedding together in two months! They think if I marry a guy I’ll suddenly ‘see the light’ and be cured! And they’ve had me locked up so I only just snuck out, and if they catch me they’re going to lock me up again, but this time with a bodyguard! And anyone else I go to will either turn me in or can’t stand up against my parents because they’re the King and Queen!”

By now tears were streaming down the Princesses face. The girl was not a terribly pretty crier, her skin going blotchy and her nose bright red.

She sniffed her nose again before saying, “So that’s why you have to kidnap me. My parents can’t force you to return me! Please, you’re the only one who can help me!”

The Princess became silent, suddenly dragged down into a gloomy mood. She stood before the mighty dragon, waiting for them to decide her fate.

Said mighty dragon had no idea what to do. Their personal policy was to stay out of human affairs. And fairy affairs, those tended to get complicated with all their plotting. And mermaids, who usually spent too much time composing ballads and not enough doing literally anything else. And Vampires, because they brood too much for Ezcabith’s liking. And other dragons for that matter, since, as previously stated, they were retired. Really, Ezcabith just didn’t get involved in other beings problems.

The dragon realized they had gotten off track in their thoughts and tried to focus on the current problem. Runaway princess trying to escape bigoted parents. Bigoted parents who just so happened to be the rulers of the country Ezcabith was currently residing in. That would cause drama, and they just didn’t do drama. Nope, they would just have to turn the princess away.

The Princess who was still crying in front of them. The Princess who, despite it being a beautiful, sunny day, kept shivering when she looked down the mountain behind her. The Princess who looked as pathetic as a wet kitten mewling in distress….. Oh, stars, why did Ezcabith have to think of her as a kitten? Now there really was nothing else they could do.

Ezcabith sighed heavily, already regretting what they were about to say. “Very well, you may stay.”

Lorelei gasped than ran forward and slammed into the dragon, snot still running down her nose. “Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyousomuchthankyouI-”

The dragon sighed again, even deeper this time as the child prattled her thanks. Carefully they lifted their paw and patted the girls’ back. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get you settled in before I come to my senses.”

#urban fantasy #ficlet #dragons #Ezcabith

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the-gunslock · 4 years

Text

Hiver 4 - North, part 2

This is the second of a 3-part story about Amanda and I. This one is about how one dinner changed my life.

The shipwright waits patiently for her friend, observing the multicolored dusk sky passing by. Her work for the day is done, her back and shoulders are sore, and she would like nothing more than to take a shower and spent a whole day off, being lazy. Which, well, she managed to schedule for the next one. The Hangar won’t implode because of her taking a day to herself.

She hopes.

As she massages her thigh where her prosthetic leg connects, she hears steps frantically tapping the metal staircase above. She guesses it’s Hiver and beams at the excitement she always carries herself with. It’s kind of adorable, if she had to admit it.

It’s...

“‘S she like this with everyone?” Amanda thought to herself, realizing how busy she has always been to meet Hiver’s clan and friends.

Her question is left unanswered at the Warlock launches herself down into the metallic beam, barely bothering to hover down. She hits it with a CLANG, waving delightedly and jogging to Amanda’s position. She’s practically bouncing as she greets her crush.

“Ay Hiver. What crazy contraption d’you have for me to see?”

“None!”

“Oh, you found a good hand cannon you want to talk about? That’s fine too.”

“Wrong.”

“...Want me to hug you while you vent about horrible Crucible matches?”

“Three strikes, you’re out! No, I want you to come with me, Amanda.”

Amanda is out of ideas for answers. “Alright then”, she says, putting her palms up in ‘defeat’.

She gets up and holds on to the Warlock, who floats them out of the isolated metal beam. She is curious but at least Hiver’s body language shows it’s not something threatening. As they take the elevator from the Tower down to the city, she ponders over her friend.

It’s funny -- how genuine she was, specially for a Warlock. Most were methodical, or cynical. Rahool, Ikora, Asher Mir, all of them acted in such a way that it made her feel so small in comparison.

Sure, it caused conflicts between themselves too, but people who carried the task of guarding and acquiring knowledge had a way to make civilians (and sometimes even other Guardians) feel so belittled, even if they didn’t mean to. It kind of made them hard to hold a conversation, and the feeling of having to shut up and listen is incredibly frustrating.

Hiver, though... She was intelligent, yes. But also… approachable? Charming? Humane?

The human looked sideways at Hiver standing next to her in the Tower elevator. She had an innocent smile on her face and was bobbing her head side-to-side to some song she probably got stuck in her head.

Tender. Yes. Tender was the word Amanda looked for. A quality that made her a friend first and a Warlock second, in her heart. It was less about teacher and disciple, or Guardian and shipwright, and more about Hiver caring for her, and her helping Hiver. It wasn’t totally like helping other Guardians, though -- Hiver appeared to be going the extra mile to make sure she was doing okay, in between missions to save humanity from obliteration.

“Amanda? Let’s go.” Hiver says as the elevator doors open, summoning her sparrow and climbing on. Amanda holds on to her waist and they blaze into the illuminated streets of the City.

“Hiver, you never really told me where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise. Hold on a little while longer.”

The ride is calm as Hiver takes care not to go too fast or crash into anything. Amanda takes this rare moment where she is on the backseat to appreciate the view of the people around living their lives, the many now-lively buildings that were rebuilt after the Red War, and the street lights passing them by. After a while, she just closes her eyes and buries her face on Hiver’s back, waiting for them to arrive at their destination.

They stop in front of a grassy plaza with artificial lakes, and Hiver pulls up to the opposite sidewalk.

“Amanda? We’re here.”

“Well, anytime ya want to tell me where “here” is and what we’re doing, feel free.” She says, both of them getting off of the Sparrow, leaving it to transmat away. Hiver motions for her to follow. They enter a building with a large, marble-stone lobby. Warm lights bring life to the place, the walls’ corners are lined with lively plants inside long wooden planters.

To the right are a bunch of couches and tables where people are going about their business, talking to each other, reading, eating a meal or working on their holo-tablets. To the left, a balcony with two frames, elegant black shells with white details and trimming. Behind them, intricate, gold and silver metal letters spelling “Luminosity Heights” in a cursive, fancy font.

“Greetings, Ms. Hiver! Welcome back!” One of them says from behind the reception desk.

“Hello, Siegfried, Roy! Authorize a guest, please.”

They quickly update some data on their workstations, and give both of them clearance. Hiver goes up to one of many turnstile doors containing an energy barrier and removes her gauntlets to place her hand on some sort of biometric panel. Once she is confirmed, she motions towards it in a “ladies first” manner and lets Amanda through.

Amanda starts to understand where they are. After the door they reach the vacant elevators and Hiver types the floor number. As they ascend, Amanda leans back against the opposite wall and takes in all of the luxurious, yet somewhat rustic scenery they just went through. The Warlock is straining to contain her excitement, but she just eyes her crush and smiles at her.

The elevator stops, its doors opening. They are now in a smaller room, with an intricate white vase containing a beautiful bouquet of white and blue flowers, sitting atop a black table with silver details.

Hiver goes left and places her hand at another biometric scanner. “Ms. Holliday?” Hiver says, anxious for her reaction.

“It’s… Amanda, Hiver. What is it? What is this place anyway?” She says, a bit impatient from her tiredness.

The door to the apartment opens, letting the moonlight in from the windows at the end of the living room. The white lights turn on soon after the door is open.

“Welcome home.”

Amanda steps in, and takes off her boots. She is in awe of the cleanliness and the decoration Hiver picked for her place. It felt cozy, and peaceful. A nice place to come back to.

“Ahaha! This’s a fine place. It’s -- it’s awesome!”

“Trinity, play Pale Rider, please.” The Ghost obeys, counting “one, two” and starting to play old guitar chords. “Amanda, you can make yourself at home. I’ll take a bath, and then grab you a towel so you can shower.” Hiver says, before entering her bedroom and closing the door.

“Got it, girl.” Amanda answers, giving her a thumbs-up. She rests her body on the couch, spreading her tired legs and enjoying the western-like music Trinity is playing.

She is sitting on a brown, suede-ish couch with three seats with a tree-like floor lamp beside it. In the middle of this room is another black end table in the same style of the one in the lobby. Below the tabletop, many books about various subjects -- fictional stories, archives, journals -- are arranged, some of them untouched, others in a deplorable state; she imagines Hiver didn’t dare damage them further.

The walls are a clean white, adorned with some pictures neatly lined together; mostly simple paintings of plants, and some delicately made drawings of exotic revolvers framed behind anti reflective glass, including the currently lost Hawkmoon and First Curse.

As the song ends, Trinity goes to rest in a little red pillow Hiver got her.

On the wooden television stand, was a wide TV and what seemed to be a game console. Above it, she put up a shelf that displays miscellaneous sculptures of Guardians and enemy units -- particularly the Vex. Amanda remembers Hiver saying she was very afraid of Vex, even though she likes their aesthetics. Levitating on display were coin-like artifacts said to honor the Iron Lords, and two porcelain vases with devil’s ivy creeping down their sides.

Looking at the window on the left side, she sees a small reading nook by the three windows. It was a raised wooden section full of and moss green and beige cushions, easily accessible drawers under it. The walls above have some macrame vases hanging from them. It was big enough to fit two people, or three if they were sitting. Thin, linen curtains separated it from the rest of the living room, and the windows -- as Amanda went to inspect -- gave them a good view of the Last Safe City.

The apartment was not too high, but not too low either. Walking back to the couch, she spotted a marble-top island with chairs, and behind it was the kitchen part of the place. Amanda considers asking Hiver to make dinner. The last time she ate was over four hours ago.

After a while of hearing a hair dryer sound, she sits back on the couch and Hiver announces her presence again. “Back I am!” She says, carrying a towel for the shipwright, who took a moment to appreciate her outfit.

The Guardian had changed out of her robes and was now wearing a thin, white blouse with a black peter pan collar that exposed her slender shoulders with a little bow knot neatly tied under it. On her lower half was a deep blue, ankle-length skirt that shaped well to her hips and waved elegantly as she walked. She had traded her Annealed Shaper boots for much more comfortable black tights.

“Hey, looking good! You warlocks sure know how to be fashionable.” Amanda commented playfully, taking the towel in her hands. Hiver chuckles nervously and blushes.

“I-it’s nothing special. See, my bedroom is at the end of the hallway. There’s a shower there, right next to the door. If you want to borrow some clothes from my closet, you can do it too. They should fit and... I can wash your coveralls as well.”

Amanda throws the towel over her shoulder. “Alright, thanks! Listen, don’t wanna be a prick, but… can I eat something after I’m done? ‘S been some hours since I last ate.”

“Of course! I was planning on making us dinner anyway. No need to rush and, if you need anything else, all you have to do is ask.” Hiver answers happily before disappearing into the kitchen to look for ingredients. Amanda rolls her eyes and smiled at to the Awoken’s housewife-like behavior and wanders to the bathroom.

Everything there was also clean, but made from a grey granite to contrast with the whiteness of the other rooms. The mirror was relatively large and plain, and on the corner of the bathroom was a bluish stained glass shower box with a tub if she so chose to use it.

Amanda stripped herself off her clothes and tools, leaving them on top of the toilet seat to collect later. Locating Hiver’s care products to use, she also spots a small sliding window with three very small vases on them, waiting to be occupied. One of them housed a small sapling; Amanda turned on the shower and smiled, reminding herself to ask Hiver to show what grows from it.

After a much-needed cleansing of her pale, greased skin (Made much more satisfactory by the ludicrous amount of skincare products Hiver has) and some massaging to help her soreness, the human stepped out of the shower and, while she dried off, she had to pick something to wear.

Not wanting to think too much about it, she picked out a random black set from Hiver’s underwear drawer and put it on quickly. Surprisingly, they don’t differ much in bra size. She considers it lucky.

Now, for clothes, she examined every piece carefully, time and again taking them for a closer look. The guardian appeared to prefer comfortable and clean-looking clothes, probably a byproduct of her wearing armored robes and trench coats all the time.

As the shipwright tries on a red sweater that falls off her shoulders, she feels a smell coming from the kitchen. ‘Tomato?’ she guesses, which caused her stomach to express its anger even more. She chose a pair of white cottony pants to go with the sweater and grabbed her things from the bathroom, bringing them to Hiver.

Getting to the island, she sees a plate with steaming hot… toast? Covered with layers of tomato, then melted cheese, and… some herb? Probably a spice… Amanda has never seen something like this.

“Hey Amanda.” Hiver says, not taking her eyes off the kitchen counter. “Help yourself. I’m almost done.”

“Wait, done with what?”

“Dinner.” The warlock responds, shrugging and smiling smugly at her confusion.

“Isn’t this dinner?”

“That’s an appetizer. Or… an entrée, as Ada would say.” She sprinkles grated parmesan cheese over the meal she’s making. Amanda sits down, setting her clothes aside and taking one of the toasts, biting into it and closing her eyes to analyze the taste better. It’s…

“Delicious...” She blurts out without thinking, eyes shining. The Awoken girl smiles in pride while putting the main course in the pre-heated oven, then walking over, juice jar in hand, to take a seat next to her crush. It’s been forever since she’s had a meal with someone.

She picks up a Bruschetta. She doesn’t know the name of it, just the recipe, but she was determined to find out. “We Warlocks don’t just search for Golden Age relics, you know?” She takes a bite out of it, enjoying its salty flavor. She could tell she had done it just right and was happy about it.

“So…” Amanda starts, in the middle of her second Bruschetta. “When did you get this place?” Hiver pours them both a cup of juice.

“This morning, after some days of dealing with bureaucracy and killing stuff to get Glimmer. I got it with most of the furniture, so the price got a little… saltier.” She looks at her kitchen, happy to have a place to call hers. “Still, beats living out of my ship or in Old Earth’s cold, dead debris.”

Amanda nods, mid-chewing a half of the bread, and then swallows. “I’m happy you got it, Hiver. It’s pretty cozy, and… very you, if that makes sense. It’s not bland, but it’s not super fancy-pantsy either. It has a nice feeling to it.” She continues eating the other half as she recalls the sense of style of other Warlocks she met.

Particularly Brother Vance.

“I did my best in making this place presentable to you… but this is not all I have to show, though.”

“My, my, aren’t we full o’ surprises today?”

They hear a ding coming from the counter, conveniently, as the bruschettas are almost over. Hiver’s kitchen counter, shaped like a chicken that she painted a little spades symbol on, has gone off indicating the meal is ready.

“Just be patient.” Hiver says while putting on oven mitts and pulling it out of the oven. Amanda notes that it looks like a… tomato sauce mess. Putting it on their plates, they get to eating.

“Boy, do you like tomato. Not that I’m complaining.” The freckled girl pushes the sauce away from her food, revealing pasta and fried steak.

“Villages around found a way to grow them… really fast. And they’re healthy. You say to-may-to, I say make sauce with it. And everyone’s happy.” Hiver replies with a smile, garnering a laugh from her human friend. They eat the rest of it in silence.

After the main course, Amanda is still curious to see what Hiver has to show her, hurrying her up in an almost coquettish way. Hiver goes to her storage and pulls out one of the Dragon Fruits she was given in the Old Texas frontier.

“Amanda… is this here familiar to you?” She says, bringing it back to Amanda. She gasps, her expression changing completely; Her face is one of shock, her eyes widening immediately. She presses her lips together and takes the pink, prickly fruit in her hands with utmost care, examining it thoroughly, as if it were some sort of jewel. Hiver could sense some change, but not identify if it was good or bad.

The Awoken silently motions to have it back, grabbing a knife from her utensil drawer and opening the fruit to expose its white flesh. She proceeds to cut and push cubes out of the flesh so that she may serve it and give them to Amanda, who is visibly trying to hold herself together, hands with fingers intertwined pressing against her forehead and her thumbs supporting her brow ridge.

“Amanda?” Hiver says, pushing a plate of pitaya towards her. She picks a cube of the fruit and, as soon as she slowly finishes eating it, tears start rolling down her face uncontrollably. She then downs another. And another, and another, each of them bringing a stronger wave of emotion than the last.

Hiver watches silently, holding back her impulse to hold the woman and never let go. She had made it. It was the fruit. And more than that, a part of Amanda’s childhood.

She finishes the fruit, pushing away the plate, and lowering her head to continue sobbing. Hiver starts rubbing her back in an attempt to give her some comfort.

“Do you want a hug?” She offers.

Amanda silently gets up and quickly holds her friend, crying as quietly as she can -- which isn’t much -- on her shoulder. Hiver hugs her back, rubbing the back of her head, and they stay like this for some full minutes, before Amanda regains some of her composure and manages to stumble towards the couch, wiping her tears away.

“How…” She hiccups.

“Eva’s book.”

She turns to look at Hiver. “And… and where did you…”

“Let me grab you some water, this is gonna take a while.”

Hiver then proceeds to wipe Amanda’s tears off and explain her expedition to Old Texas.

“I see…” Amanda says, starting to feel better. Hiver reaches over and softly wipes away her tear trails. “Thank you.”

“I figured it would make you happy.” Hiver says, smiling shyly.

“It did. More than ya know.” The blonde is finally back to smiling, and leans her head on Hiver’s shoulder, sending her into a flustered panic. She can’t let it show. “Sorry Hiver… it’s… it’s late. All that cryin’s made me pretty tired.”

“Want to sleep here?”

“Been too much of a pain already. I should go.”

Hiver sighs. “Amanda, it’s more than a pleasure to be around you. Don’t think you’re bothering me, especially because I was the one who brought you here and did everything I could to make you feel welcome. D’you like this place? Do you want to stay?”

Amanda is a bit taken aback by her friend’s seriousness. “Yeah… it’s good to have someone other than me at home, if I’m being honest.”

“Then please,” Hiver wraps an arm around Amanda’s shoulder, holding her close. “Stay.”

The shipwright revels in the warmth of her friend’s embrace, slowly letting go of the half-painful nostalgia the felt earlier, and smiling softly as she started to doze off. She feels relieved. Before wandering off, the human girl manages to mutter one last sentence, giving Hiver just as much happiness as she caresses her crush’s shoulder with her fingertips.

“‘Kay. I’m stayin’.”

She feels at home.

#destiny 2 #destiny fic #destiny warlock #destiny oc #amanda holliday #hiver the gunslock #oc x canon

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firebirdsdaughter · 5 years

Text

Well…

… What better thing to do when you feel like absolute crap in the morning and it’s starting to get too hot again? DX

Watch Ryusoulger! ^^ Subbed! XD

In no order and w/ many typos bc I am a dumb who stayed up to late and I have a headache. Also it’s almost eighty degrees here and I hate everything:

Aw, Asuna is playing games for snacks. ^^ Definitely think she has a very high metabolism.

This super cute, too, the kids hanging out and playing carnival games. Asuna asking Melto for advice. XD Ah, my babies.

Aw, it’s sweet that everyone claps.

A year’s worth of snacks is that little? I think they might be underestimating Asuna’s eating speed. And mine.

Melto’s pouting bc he feels like his advice wasn’t needed. Aw, don’t feel bad, sweetie, she wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want to hear it.

Okay, this is fine. Could have been… Hm, but Asuna clearly wasn’t afraid at all, and looked annoyed, which is in line w/ her character, and Mori jumped in very quickly—which is what I was hoping for, bc no way you can make me believe Asuna actually needed saving, but it makes sense that someone seeing the situation from the outside would want to assist someone they thought was in trouble. In fact, I’d say that Mori just saved those guys’ lives. Like, pretty sure she’d’ve cold cocked on herself if he had been a little slower. XD

And then he starts fighting them, and Asuna’s just like ‘oh, okay, I guess this is happening now. *shrug*’

Honestly, he didn’t seem to need help, so I don’t blame her.

She knows what boxing is? I mean, not the strangest thing.

Aaaaaand… Crayon the mushroom man makes another entrance.

Every time we watch the opening, I’m reminded that we still don’t know who hooded man is… I mean, they’ve got time, but I’d love some more hints. And while we’re at it… Actually, never mind. I think everyone knows where I was going there. XD

That scene where he approached the brothers is really getting at me, though… Like, not even Touwa has mentioned it? Which makes me very curious/suspicious.

Honestly, I like the troll Minusaur’s design…

Did you two try to call the others?

Kou, you doof! Though I guess he didn’t know Mori was there.

I really like that Crayon has trouble controlling the Minusaurs, it’s a nice touch and usually leads to funny hijinks.

I guess it was the force of the explosion that sent them rolling like that. That’s what I’m going w/. No way a Ryusoulger would get detransformed from rolling down a hill.

Aw, she’s so sweet. I’m love her.

I really like how she can be silly, but also a really cool, strong sort of ‘big sister’ at the same time. Anky Mom raised her well. ^^

Touwa, don’t be so defeatist!

Kou! DX Honestly though, that’s kind of in character for him to so… Hyper-focused, I guess?

Asuna’s face, though! Honey, just grab him by the ear and pull, okay? That’ll shut him up.

Not you, too, Melto! DX Asuna, grab both their ears! Just smack them!

I’m glad the point here is that they were wrong to ignore her.

I don’t so much blame Banba and Touwa there, bc they were just kinda… There? They could’ve called the other two on it and didn’t, though.

I am now going to hyper obsess about a single line in regards to my ‘Banba becomes everyone’s rock’ view. Bc he totally just kind of ‘reground’ the discussion there. XD

Touwa and Banba don’t even go here. XD It’s okay, I don’t think Banba plans on eating anything. He just got up bc everyone else did.

Aw, Tyramigo’s trying to comfort her! You’re right, sweetie. Good to try and be proactive. I say, like a bloody hypocrite.

It might have been wiser to go back in and smack them, but she’s justifiably annoyed at them so it makes sense she wouldn’t.

On the one hand, that drawing looks pretty good from where I’m sitting, on the other, I’m a perfectionist, too. And maybe the issue isn’t that it’s not ‘good,’ it’s that it’s not what he ‘wants’ it to be?

Asuna here w/ the very direct line of questioning.

Don’t tell him that! Though I do appreciate that the whole ‘she says the wrong thing/speaks too bluntly sometimes’ thing is more subtle. Like w/ what she said to Melto before and here. It’s not there all the time.

Other thing I like about this, is that it’s not ‘the girl can’t beat the Minusaur alone.’ It’s that ‘no one can beat the Minusaur.’ Yes, they fare a little better when there’s more of them, but it’s not bc Asuna is a ‘girl’ or at all ‘weaker.’ It’s that this Minusaur is quite strong. It wasted Kou and Melto before, too. Also the fact that it’s just reflecting their own power back at them (multiplied, too, I believe), means that it’s using their own strength against them. So the stronger the attack, the more damage the reflection does. After all, Asuna does absolutely fine on her own later, and even frightens the current General, and it takes three of them and the Kishiryu and some strategy to beat the Minusaur (and some of Asuna’s luck).

A plus mediation, Kou. You guys can discuss this later.

Crayon should really learn to watch his mouth w/ the Generals…

Wyzul’s incurable need for theatrics will become his undoing. By pissing off Asuna.

The fact that Banba does everything just slightly slower than the others, from drawing his sword to charging the Minusaur, just to be that much sexier is vexing and I love it.

Wonder what varsity jacket did to make Mori so pissed at him? Or… Is he a coach or something? If he’s a coach, he needs to be fired, though.

Wait, did art boy offer to punch a dude for Mori so that Mori could fight in an upcoming boxing match, but someone would still punch the dude? That’s so sweet, oh my god. DX

Nah, man, Asuna’s right. I think you’re overreacting a little. I say, like I don’t overreact every day of my life.

I’m sobbing. Anky Mom raised a good girl. Asuna is a princess and a damn wonderful big sis. She’s still dad friend of the trio, though.

Banba is dad friend of the whole team.

Melto is mom friend no matter where he is.

I feel like these three’s reactions are telling of their personalities. XD Kou just takes one to the face, Touwa dodges a bit the ducks for cover, and Banba blocks a little but stands his ground and somehow manages to avoid being hit by… I dunno, sheer power of sexiness?

I think I regret getting used to that word.

This is very much dramatic irony. It’s pretty obvious to the audience that it’s Wyzul—but Mori doesn’t know about Wyzul at all, or that he can shapeshift, Asuna knows about Wyzul and that he can shapeshift, but has no reason to think he’s here. I mean, sure, Minusaur, but Crayon has gotten left to his own devices before. And they haven’t seen him yet. Asuna isn’t the suspicious type, either.

Where they just letting Kou wail on it while they watched. I mean, I guess more eyes are likely to notice something, but it’s just funny.

Ah, it’s her injured wrist, that probably made things harder. It does seem like she makes conscious decisions when to put her whole strength into things, most of the time, w/ only the occasional slip ups.

Hey, not a bad plan, Kou. MistSoul is pretty noncombative.

Yeah, but not all the attacks went through his… You know what, I don’t care. In the positive way. I don’t care for positive reasons.

I love how they just let Kou wail on it again in Kishiryu Oh. Though I guess they couldn’t form anything w/out Asuna and Ankyrose.

Asuna here w/ the princess carry. True knight in shining armour. ^^

The new mecha suit actor is really good. The torch has been well passed. ^^

Also, pour one out for the miniature city set designers and builders! Technically physically possible, whatever! That was impressive! And how many times must they have had to build and test everything. And then there’s the effects. O_o I salute you, folks.

Oh, yeah, and… It’s HAMMER TIME!

Asuna for one of the best big sisters ever award. DX

I love Naohisa and his ‘ah! places!’ reaction to Asuna coming in. XD

They made a sign? And why is Ui wearing a helmet? I’m so confused. But this is so cute, gods love them.

Not all of them are smiling, dude. Banba has to keep glaring, it’s in his contract.

No it, it’s not. But he’s def not smiling yet. One day he is gonna smile, though, and I am going to implode.

Okay, but has DimeVolcano just been wandering the forest giving deadly quiz shows? Is that what’s been happening?

Kinda like how the preview is like ‘yeah, new power next week!’ right off the bat instead of being all ‘mysterious’ about it or something. XD

Okay, who implemented a quiz into a Kishiryu? Why? Why does it rampage if you answer wrong? This seems like poor seal design, Ryusoul predecessors…

And apparently he can talk. They taught the Kishiryu to talk so that it could give quizzes. This seems like a lot of effort.

And the fact that the quiz thing is apparently such a thing that it’s featured in the historical writings that were found by palaeontologists.

Also they got my boys in the house again—I don’t know why I love that so much, but I do—and I just noticed Touwa is holding a mug. For some reason this is so important to mea, I will be including a picture at the bottom

Really curious as to how the quiz scene goes down, bc there’s shots of what seem to be Crayon and Myzul trying it, and shots of the trio trying it, but… What happened to the brothers? They’re there on approach, and there’s a shot in the online preview that seems to indicate they’re there in the scene where they’re talking to DimeVolcano, but they seem to disappear. Very curious what the actual scenario is.

That’s all, folks! Virtual fondu for anyone who read all that. I liked this episode very much, Asuna is wonderful and I love her to pieces. I was a little apprehensive when I first read the summary, but I think they handled it fine. Asuna did get to call the boys out for not listening to her/taking her seriously, which was nice. Sad we didn’t get Anky Mom, but there’s plenty of time for her to come back at some other point. Find it hilarious that Banba insists on sitting w/ his back to everyone during discussions. I am totally over obsessing over minor things, but I’m choosing to interpret that tiny moment (where he was like ‘but first, we need to figure out it’s weakness’) as something to indicate he’s becoming the ‘rock’ of the team. Kinda like Hikari? W/ the whole ‘anchor’ thing? He’s the most sort of… Like, ‘down to earth’? In a way? Like, they all absolutely can focus and be ‘serious’ and sensible about things, but they can also kinda ‘wander off’? Kou, Touwa, and Asuna will rush into things, each in their own way, Melto overthinks, so on and so on. Goodness knows what kind of nonsense Kanaro will get up to. And Banba can be the grumpy, stubborn, often taciturn rock that supports and anchors them. Did any of that make sense?

Bonus:

Touwa holding a mug. Bc it’s somehow funny and cute to me and almost implies the boys came over for lunch or breakfast or something.

Have also remembered my random thought about the possibility of Wyzul masquerading as one of the team this ep. I feel like the new info makes it a little unlikely, but not impossible. They’ve got a hostage, yes, but Wyzul does like to be tricky—case in point, last time they had a hostage. So it’s not impossible.

#Kishiryu Sentai Ryusoulger #Ryusoulger Spoilers #my precious Dino Children #I love five (5) beautiful colourful Dino Knights #Asuna is great #I love her #sad we didn't see Anky Mom but it would be really glaring if they brought back the other two and not her #maybe the actress was busy and they couldn't change the production order for somereason #maybe they're saving her for something else #I like that Asuna's now got a soty of rivalry w/ Wyzul nice touch #dunno if they'll carry it through but I hope they do #after all he's probably gonna be toying w/ feelings again #he's a trickster and a shapeshifter type villain #looking forward to next week #we know Gold is debuting in ep 14 but we've still got eps 12 and 13 before that very curious about them #anyway I really love this series very much DX #I'm in a kind of sucky place rn and it's just been really helping my get through the week #so fight me #I will lose bc I'm a depressed wuss w/ anxiety #but I will fight #XD #(Note: I'm okay I'm working through it—it's just been a little rough for me and other people DX hopefully we'll get through)#^^#Birthday Sentai #Dino Dragon Knights And Their Cat

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lifeofmarvvel · 6 years

Text

The Song Sirens Sing Part 5

Word Count: 3162

Warnings: Violence, Injuries, angst (I guess?? Does this count??), literally it’s mostly pirates fighting

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long since the last update! I got caught up in writing other stuff (Cliche Costume Contest + a few blurbs for those who haven’t read them yet). To make up for it here is an entirely Peter focused chapter. It took me sooo long to write the action scene, so I hope you guys like it!

Series Masterlist

Part 4

Peter’s heart was ripped out. Simultaneously, he felt refreshed and new. They were finally out on the ocean again. Back to regular pirate duties. But his heart was stranded on the shoreline of Wakanda. He left it in the spot he officially met (Y/N). And he knew- oh, man, he knew- that it would probably stay there for the rest of this life.

He sat up in the crows nest, supposedly watching for any other ships or danger. In reality, he got lost in his thoughts. After Shuri deemed him okay, he was sent to bed like a misbehaving toddler and the next day they took off. He wasn’t the happiest around the rest of the crew, but he sure was glad he could get away from everything for the moment. They would be on the water for the next few months, as they crossed the Marvel Ocean again; this time towards Sokovia for a deal with some other pirate ship. Or so he was told. Peter was sure it was going to be a while before Tony trusted him not to run off into harm’s way for a while.

Even the Falcon’s teasing couldn’t bring him out of his thoughts, and the man eventually gave up. No use in talking to a non-responsive sponge. They sat in silence, though Sam paid much more attention than Peter.

Eventually, Sam broke the silence. “Hey kid, you’re kinda scaring me. Usually, you take after Tony and never shut up but I haven’t heard you talk once since breakfast.” He looked over at him. He had curled his legs into his body and wrapped his arms around them, head on top, looking out into the vast blue.

At Sam’s words, he glanced over before looking back. “I don’t feel like talking right now,” he replied.

Sam shrugged. “If it suits you.” Peter was glad when Sam turned back to the ocean. When Bucky walked below deck, he heard Sam start to shout various passive-aggressive comments. It never was a dull moment with those two. But he wasn’t interested this time. Not much was going to get him out of his head.

Little did Peter know, they were not crossing the Marvel Ocean to make a deal. They were crossing to take down a pirate ship: the SS Kaufmann. It was part of a bigger fleet called HYDRA that was up to no good- at least where the SS Avengers were concerned. The fleet was led by a pirate known as Strucker. Originally from Sokovia, he worked on human experimentation, which led to them releasing whatever chemicals “didn’t work” into the ocean.

Over time, the correct combination emerged for what he wanted. But he never knew about it; it was in the ocean, giving all the mers off the coast powers. Thus, the Maximoff twins. There were naturally occurring powers amongst the mers, but the spill brought in scores of them- well, the ones that survived the chemicals, that is.

Strucker had made his getaway on a ship once the government discovered his actions, vowing to become a pirate to not get caught, and it gave him more range over what he could do. Not only could he continue what he was doing, but he could also take down other pirate ships. He particularly chose the SS Avengers. They were after him so they could regain deals that had been stolen by HYDRA. They didn’t know about the other stuff Strucker had done- not yet, at least- and it didn’t matter all that much. There were other groups dealing with that. Currently, both groups were headed right for Strucker, not that they knew. But Strucker had a clue they were, and they were in for quite the treat when they arrived.

Eventually, Tony called Peter and Sam down to the deck. “We’re going to have a crew meeting,” he announced loudly. He turned to Peter menacingly. “And you,” he pointed an accusing finger at him, “are going to swab the deck while we do so.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, even though he expected it. It was hard to build Tony’s trust, and you were screwed if you betrayed that trust. Peter’s case was small in comparison to Stark’s past experiences, but they wouldn’t be on good terms for a long while.

“Fine,” he mumbled, grabbing the nearest mop. The hands filed away, leaving Peter to sulk while he spread the dirt around the bow. The fresh air felt nice and all, but this just rubbed salt into a wound.

A while later, the crew came back out and set back to their regular duties. Conditions stayed same through the next day and a half. Spider-Man and Falcon once again sat in the crow’s nest when a ship came into view. “Sail ho!” Sam called out, swooping out of the nest and down to the deck. Peter, unsure of what happened, quickly crawled his way down.

“Avengers Assemble! All hands to stations!” Captain America called out. The whole crew, knowing what to do, raced around, gathering weapons and cannons, and getting into position. Peter whipped around, vexed and perplexed about the situation.

“Will somebody please explain to me what’s going on?” he called out. The hands ignored him, going about their assignments. Someone shoved a small dagger into his hands when they sped by, but that was it.

Thankfully, Bruce came to the rescue. He gave him a quick rundown about why they were attacking Strucker at the moment (securing a deal) and nothing about the past. He got whisked away, and Peter was sent back to the crow’s nest “for his safety.” Nobody wanted the responsibility if the teenager’s status changed to KIA.

Peter sat down, the noise on the deck and below it shrinking from a roar to an ominous grumble. He knew for a fact Rhodey would be preparing cannons right now with a few other crew members. Falcon, on a fighting top. The co-captains stood on the stern of the ship, looking fierce. Peter could easily see how the names Captain America and Iron Man struck fear into the hearts of other pirates, much like the iron weapon that once struck Tony’s chest.

The SS Kaufmann loomed closer. Their crew ran about, just as busy as the Avenger’s deck. The water churned eerily like it was expecting to feed on one of the two ships in a moment’s notice. The ships drew near each other, expecting a fight to commence any second.

Once the ship’s starboard faced their port, a call of “fire in the hole,” could be heard and cannons opened fire; the SS Kaufmann crew swung over onto the deck of the SS Avengers. A few had cutlasses, some belaying pins, and more.

Immediately, fighting broke out across the deck. Metal against metal, clinging ringing through the air. The crew spread out, defending themselves, all representing their reputations clearly. Sam darted around quickly, using some ropes to swing himself between opponents, looking like a falcon flying through the air. Oftentimes quiet Bruce had made his way onto the SS Kaufmann, turning it into a hulk by slowly destructing it. Who knew he had it in him? And that was just the start of it all. Other Avengers followed him to the SS Kaufmann.

The crew of the SS Kaufmann proved themselves a mighty foe. They kept up with the Avengers easily, strike for strike. Peter peered over the edge. The fingers connected to his non-dagger hand twitched, eager, but no clear opening into the fight presented itself. He waited, eyes sharp and awareness heightened.

The total-cloud coverage cast odd shadows, making the fight look more like something out of a tall tale than a live event. But still, Peter watched. Individual shouts which rose above the grumble made it hard to concentrate on one specific thing. A shout from the stern caught his attention. Stark and Rogers engaged in a two-on-one fist fight with Strucker. Cannonballs sailed through the air, most missing and instead hitting the water. The resulting splashes doused the decks, drawing the fight amidship. Blunderbuss shots rang through the air, running out quickly.

Another shout and he turned towards the bow. A Kaufmann keeled over in pain. Hope slashed her cutlass with precision, taking pirates down as she went. “Remember dead men tell no tales!” someone roared above the noise. “Plow the men down!”

Yet another shout and Peter started to turn. But then a voice called out- far too close for his liking. “Now what do we have here?” it crooned. “Why, it must be the young lad, hidin’ for his life.” A quick glance showed Peter a Kaufmann, climbing up to the crow’s nest.

He was stuck. Dead end.

Thinking quickly, he remembered the dagger in his hand. He placed it between his teeth and swung over the edge onto the ropes. Channeling his inner spider, he raced down, trying to stay opposite of where the Kaufmann headed. “Oh no, ye don’t!” the pirate hollered. His teeth, bright yellow, gleamed despite the low light.

Before he could help it, they were even.

They reached for weapons at the same time. Peter: his dagger. Yellow Teeth: a dirk. The fight looked in favor of Peter. He was younger, more agile and his blade was double-sided, not just single-sided. But then again, the pirate had experience, was stronger, and most definitely knew what was going on. So maybe not.

Yellow Teeth lunged. Peter leaned back. He swayed, and grasped onto the rope tighter. It might give him rope burn later, but what mattered was staying alive. Aim for the fingers, he thought.

Peter lunged. The pirate blocked with his arm. Peter moved downward. The closer to the ground, the less likely to get killed. He slashed at the legs. Yellow Teeth lifted his feet; he moved even with Peter.

Yellow Teeth jabbed at Peter’s thigh. He barely stopped the blade with his own blade. Using all his strength, he pressed against the resistance and lifted both their arms slowly. The pirate’s side now open, Peter lifted his legs and kicked him. He bounced right back. “Now, listen here, laddie. Yer not gettin’ away easy.”

Again, Peter scrambled down. He hung about halfway down now. Still too high. He’d heard the stories of sailor slipping down the crow’s nest and dying. He didn’t want to join those stories.

Yellow Teeth kept just on his tail. They continued to spar, blade on blade. Bit by bit, they made their way down the rope. A lunge, a duck, a block, a swing. It kept on coming and wouldn’t stop. Closer to the bottom; closer to the edge of the rope ladder.

Yellow Teeth pushed. Peter tumbled. One second, both hands grasped the rope. The next, he slipped down. Peter’s heart dropped as he struggled to hold on. No, he thought. No no no no no. He watched the pirate smile, rotten teeth on display. “G’bye, little laddie.”

He raised his foot. Peter- realizing he still had his dagger- raised his hand. When the foot crushed his hand, he jabbed his dagger into it. His fingers, forced off the rope, let go.

Yellow Teeth howled, loud and strong. He lifted his foot, forcing Peter to abandon his dagger. His fingers slipped off it, one by one. Unable to get a steady grip on anything, he fell.

Air rushed through his ears and clouded his senses, dimming the continuous clangs from cutlasses. It enveloped him like a blanket, but instead of warming him, it stung. Peter’s feet slipped from underneath him, turning him onto his back. His stomach turned while he dropped. Farther, faster, out of control. The rope was too far, then all too close. He hit its side and flipped, beginning to turn in circles. Nothing could stop it now.

Somersaulting through the air involuntarily, Peter caught glimpses of the fight. Not much- simply flashes of sunlight on blades or glimpses of the ocean churning. Soon, it blurred together. He didn't know how long he had until impact. Peter braced himself, waiting, waiting, waiting. He must have fallen higher than he thought if he was still falling. Or maybe he was falling in slow motion. (But that seemed preposterous.)

THUD!

Peter hit the deck, pain shocking his senses. He couldn't hear anything but a sharp ringing. Everything was black. Was he dead or were his eyes closed? Did he pass out? He couldn't tell. It was hard to breathe. Peter didn’t even realize he had the wind knocked out of him until he gasped. Did the pain come from the impact or did something break? Again, hard to tell.

It all blurred together. He hoped nobody had their fight make their way towards him- that would guarantee injuries. He laid there, gasping like a fish out of water. Well, a grounded pirate isn’t much different, is it? If the fight ended yet, he couldn’t tell. Nothing stood out.

In the midst of the ringing, a faint cheering arose. His hearing started to come back. Cheering? Who was cheering? Why? Peter had no chance of getting up anytime soon. He had no way of figuring out. How long had he been lying there by now?

“Kid?” he heard, somewhere in the distance. “Hey, Pete, are you alright?” They sounded concerned. They sounded familiar. It almost sounded like…..

“Tony?” Peter gasped, struggling to talk. He still hadn’t caught his breath. Tony continued to ask questions, not that Peter heard any of them. All he could make out was mumbling. Something else broke through, louder than before. “Can you open your eyes? Is that doable?”

Oh. So he wasn’t dead. That was a good sign. Then, Peter realized his eyelids felt heavy. It took most of his remaining energy, but he managed.

The light, which previously had looked dim, now blinded Peter momentarily. He squinted while his vision came into focus. Tony knelt in front of him, and he laid on his side, arm underneath him. Tony’s face was riddled with small cuts and bruises. A frown graced his face, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“You took quite the fall there, lad. I glanced up right when you slipped. Had to have been at least fifteen feet.” Peter grunted in response. “I’m going to try to pick you up now. Is that okay?” Tony scooped him up when Peter repeated his actions.

“Alright, we gotta get you patched up.” With that, he took off for the sick bay.

The SS Avengers had lucked out when it came to time between their visit to Wakanda and the battle. Due to the temporary aligning, the crew had stocked up on more medicine and other supplies than they usually held.

Bruce made sure to work fast and efficiently, and soon enough, all the injured had been treated. All things considered, the turnout was good. No severe injuries besides Peter’s and one crew member who had a finger chopped off by a cutlass. The ship only had a few holes that needed fixing. They had been lucky this time around.

Peter’s arm hand broken in multiple places on impact and Bruce had set it with practiced ease. He sat on a chair, examining the new cast. Pirates are typically known for not being hygienic, but thanks to Wakanda all their medical supplies were brand new. The white bandages- held together by a wooden splint- should have been in a sling. Peter ignored that for the moment, deciding to put it on later.

After the adrenaline had left, Peter got to experience the full pain of multiple fractures. Earlier, his pain had been from the impact as much as the injury- or so Bruce told him. Here he sat, about half an hour later, pain from the impact gone and pure pain from the injury rolling in, with nothing to do about it. Of course, they could just give him some rum, but that just started a debate on whether or not to give a teenager alcohol- even if he was officially a pirate.

“So,” Tony said from where he was standing next to Peter. “You’re going to be on rest until we know it heals properly.” Peter opened his mouth to protest. “No buts! You still have training to complete and it’s been postponed until you have full use of your arm again.”

He had a point. It being Peter’s dominant arm, the list of activities he could do decreased drastically. Silence filled the room, enveloping the space between mentor and mentee. Not stillness, for Bruce worked across the room on his next patient, talking in a low voice. Tony appeared deep in thought, his eyebrows once again furrowed. “Look,” he said softly, breaking the silence, “I’m only going to say this once. Listen carefully. This kind of stuff isn’t what pirates are known for saying, so I’ll give it my best shot.”

Peter, confused about where this was headed, nodded. Tony continued, “I’m sorry about leaving you out of the informational meeting. We might not be here right now if you knew what was going on. That was a bad decision on my part. You deserve to know; it concerns your safety, after all.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Uh, thank you, Captain. Apology accepted.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “Does- does this mean I’m allowed into the next meeting?”

Tony chuckled. “Yes, this means you’re allowed in.”

Silence rang out again, though this time it settled more comfortably. Almost like a warm blanket. “Oh- and, uh- just so you know, I don’t blame you for what happened to me,” Peter looked up at Tony hesitantly. He gave a small, shy smile, attempting to reassure his mentor.

Tony smiled back. “You’ll go far one day, kid. Don’t forget that.” He clapped his hands, then proceeded to rub them together. “I’ve got some captain stuff I need to do.” He gestured over his shoulder to the stairs. “Get some rest.” Peter rolled his eyes but nodded, and off he went. Peter watched for a moment, sighed, and stood up, headed for his quarters.

True to his promise, the following day Peter was included in the meeting. They made sure to go over who Strucker was, why they fought him, and a brief overview of the battle.

“We shrunk the Kaufmann,” Steve explained, “which is good. On the other hand-” The crew threw glances at each other. They had won, hadn’t they? What could possibly be bad news? “-Strucker somehow got away. We’re not sure how. The Kaufmann sunk and his crew is dead. Still, he got away in the chaos. We’ll continue with our plan to attack the rest of the HYDRA fleet.”

Someone said, “Great, all the celebration rum was wasted for not,” to which someone else responded, “Rum can’t be wasted unless it’s not drunk,” but Peter paid it no attention. There were bigger problems at hand.

Fleet? Got away? Oh, boy, were they in for some trouble.

Part 6

Tags: @cinnamon-roll-parker @oreo-oreo-oreo-holland @runawaybat (I’m assuming this is your new url. If it’s not, please contact me) @embrace-themagic

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prototype-zero · 6 years

Text

"I miss my family"

Vex, eagerly tapping her foot, looking around the hall, waiting anxiously for this afternoon meeting to be over with. Percy was not present at this meeting, but Cassandra's strong voice gave Vex the small bit of reassurance she needed to keep her from feeling lost during this meeting.

Before she knew it, she was briskly walking down the halls of the Whitestone castle. Desperate to see her husband, Vex was moving so fast she almost ran into a few servants. She rounded the corner before Percy’s workshop and found his door closed.

Vex blinked. Normally Percy’s door is left open, she thought to herself. She hesitated. Once clarity came to her mind, she knocked on the workshop door.

Silence followed.

Vex was about to knock again when she heard her husband's voice. "Come in."

Vex opened the door. The sunlight peered through the window and landed perfectly on Percy’s pale face. Vex sighed. She hadn't seen her husband all day and seeing him in his natural habitat brought a smile to her face that she couldn't contain.

"Darling", Vex cooed, "did inspiration strike you again?" Vex waltzed into the workshop and plopped herself on the desk so she could see her husband's face. "We missed you at the meeting this afternoon." Vex ran her hand along Percy’s forearm.

"Yes." Percy replied. His face was stern, focused. He didn't move an inch, not even to Vex's casual touch.

"Maybe this time you'll actually finish what you're trying to build" Vex teased as she interlaced her fingers with Percy’s.

There was no response from Percy.

Normally, he would have some witty retort to Vex's teasing, but not this time. This time it was easy to see the focus on Percy’s face. His brow furrowed, his lips tight. Vex noticed he was sweating, which was odd for being in the cold workshop.

"I'll have the servants bring you dinner then?" mumbled Vex, still holding firmly onto Percy’s hand.

A few seconds of silence passed before Percy muttered "Please." He gave his wife a squeeze of her hand and then let go.

Vex sighed again. She loved how, without words, she was able to sense every emotion he was feeling. Something was troubling her husband. Something new. Vex wanted to ask, but she knew she should just let him build.

Vex leaned in and kissed Percy on the cheek.

"I love you, darling." cooed Vex.

"I love you." Percy responded. His voice was softer when he said this.

Vex hopped off the table and walked to the workshop door. She paused for a second, then she pulled the door shut and walked down the hall. Perhaps she would go hunting with trinket today.

The next few days went by slowly. Vex kept herself busy with the usual Whitestone business and hunting. She would ask the servants daily if Percy was eating his dinner, and if he was doing well. The servants would tell her that he is eating and he's been working anytime they go to check on him. Sometimes the door is locked, but he's doing fine, they reassure Vex.

Finally, after a week of this, Vex wandered by Percy’s workshop and the door was wide open.

Vex rushed into the workshop and found her husband with his back faced toward her. Vex briskly walked in while saying "Finished, darling?"

As Vex walked up to her husband, she found him standing in front of an intricate machine that made an occasional ticking noise. Small gears whirred, changing speed and direction in perfect harmony. Vex also started unconsciously counting the ticks and found that the ticks were perfectly spread out. There were nine spokes that moved in unison in a circular motion. Each ticking noise was followed by the movement of another spoke.

"It's beautiful" Vex whispered, "what is it?"

"A clock" Percy said in an exasperated, yet delighted tone.

They stood in silence and just listened to the ticking of the clock. Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....

After a minute of ticking Vex finally spoke "Do you feel better?"

Vex could feel her husband deflate. Percy turned towards Vex and put his forehead on Vex's shoulder. Vex turned, embraced Percy, and spoke "I'll take that as a no?"

"I... I... " Percy stuttered. Vex could feel his lip quivering and hugged him harder.

"I... miss... my family" Percy finally managed to say through the tears that were starting to form in his eyes.

Suddenly Vex remembered that there were 9 total people in Percy's family. Vex could feel a teardrop form in her eye.

"I miss my family" Percy said. Tears poured down his face and on to Vex's clothing.

"I know you do, darling" Vex held her husband's head on her shoulder.

They sat there for a while, listening to the ticking until it slowed to an eventual stop.

Once the couple collected themselves, Percy sat down and reached for a small handle.

"I miss my family" Percy whispered as he turned the handle and wound the clock up again.

#crtical role #perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #My writing #To delete later #This is my first time writing #I've had this story in my head ever since the campaign ended

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ace-pidge · 7 years

Text

Mall Date

It’s still the 20th somewhere in the world I’m sure… XP Here’s my piece for @stargazershiro‘s Positivity Exchange, so sorry I’m late! This is for @yaineart. You gave me a lot of freedom for the ships/prompts so I hope you don’t mind that I went for something fluffy and slightly self indulgent ;;

Have Hunk and Allura taking Shay on her first visit to the Space Mall, hope you enjoy!

Also on AO3

“I bet you’ll love the mall!” Allura is practically bouncing where she’s perched on Hunk’s lap next to Shay. Hunk lets out a soft oof and makes a grab for Allura’s hips to hold her steady.

Shay spares them a quick glance before focusing back on the task of piloting their pod down to the moon that houses the space mall. She’s gotten a lot more comfortable piloting over the years she’s spent with Team Voltron, but it still requires all of her concentration. “You have spoken to me many times about this mall. I am excited to finally see it.”

“Oh it’s great,” adds Hunk, arms now locked around Allura’s waist to stop her squirming, “they have so much stuff, anything you’re looking for there’s a good chance you’ll find. And the food court, ah! Speaking of, I wonder if Sal’s still there…”

“I am not sure I understand. How does one court food?”

Allura and Hunk exchange a look, confused. Allura is the first to catch on.

“Oh! No, Shay, not court as in courting a mate. Court as in… courtyard? Basically an area of the mall with a bunch of shops that sell food.”

“Remember my Vrepit Sal story? I’m sure I’ve told you it before,” Hunk chimes in. He waits until Shay nods before continuing. “Yeah so that happened at the food court in this mall!”

Shay eyes the sprawling building in the distance with suspicion. “Really? Did you not say you were almost apprehended at that time? You said this mall was safe, that does not sound very safe to me.”

Hunk laughs. Allura rolls her eyes at him before reaching out to rest a reassuring hand on Shay’s arm.

“Don’t worry, it is safe. People here are more interested in doing their shopping or selling their wares than causing trouble. Trouble is just bad for business.”

“That is true.” Shay still casts a disapproving glance at Hunk. “It does not matter how many years I spend with you, your habit of laughing at danger still perplexes me.”

Hunk shrugs, grinning. “It’s just one of those human things I guess. Now fly in through here, good, we can leave the pod in there.”

Once they’ve found a spot to park they all head for the wide sliding doors, Shay in the middle with Allura on her right and Hunk on her left. As they enter a disembodied voice calls out “Welcome to Bero Naas Mall. Today’s sales are at: Chuli’s Health Foods, Exuberant Cosmetics, The Cove clothing. We hope you enjoy your stay with us. Happy shopping.”

Shay pauses, forcing Hunk and Allura to pause with her, and listens intently until the message is finished. When the automated message ends she turns to the others and laughs. “That lady must find it so vexing to always repeat the same message every time a person enters here.”

To her credit, Allura manages to hold in her laughter for a few seconds before bursting into giggles. Hunk keeps a straight face long enough to inform Shay that no, that’s not an intercom, it’s just a prerecorded message, before he too starts giggling behind his hand.

As they move together out of the entry hallway and toward the mall proper Shay’s eyes get progressively wider and wider. Allura and Hunk exchange a grin behind her back.

And then they emerge into the wide space of the atrium and Shay gasps in wonder, her eyes roaming everywhere in an attempt to take it all in.

“It’s so… big! And bright!”

Allura nods enthusiastically and claps her hands in delight. “There’s no place quite like the mall. So where shall we begin?”

Shay casts about, looking contrite. “Oh, um. I do not…”

Hunk takes her hand and points toward the escalator. “How about we start on the lower level and work our way from front to back?”

Shay sighs, glad that she doesn’t have to make the decision, and nods at him. “Yes, let us do that.”

“Perfect!” Allura pounces on Shay’s other arm, and they make their way to the first shop at the bottom of the escalator.

The shop is filled with rows upon rows of little datadisks that turn out to have music on them. The shopkeeper rolls their eyes when the three hesitate in front of the sound chamber, unable to figure out how to make it work so they can listen to their picks. The shopkeeper demonstrates how to step into the pod-like chamber and load the disks, pointing out the button to press to start the music.

Allura thanks them, then loads her disk and pulls Hunk and Shay into the chamber with her to listen to it, the three of them barely squeezing in. Moments later an awful sound like nails on a blackboard accompanied by a jet plane engine fills the cramped space. Hunk cries out and clamps his hands over his ears.

“Allura! What the quiznak, this is terrible, shut it off!”

Shay is the closest to the off button and hastily hits it. In the blessed silence that follows it quickly becomes apparent that Allura is cackling .

“Oh my stars, your faces! That was amazing.”

“Princess,” says Shay, a touch of reproach in her normally placid voice, “did you do that on purpose?”

“No actually! I had no idea what that one was.”

Hunk scowls. “I can’t decide if that’s better or worse.”

Shay’s pick thankfully doesn’t burst their eardrums, but there’s an instrument somewhere in the background that makes Allura wince uncomfortably every time it plays so they discard that disk. Hunk’s choice is also blissfully soft but the music doesn’t follow any kind of proper structure, and the unpredictable changes in tempo are making Hunk anxious so they discard that one too.

The next shop more than makes up for the disappointment of the first.

It’s full of beautiful little trinkets from all over the galaxy: pendants of trapped liquid light, little statuettes so delicate they look like they’re made of spun air, circlets of carved flowers whose petals move with even the slightest puff of wind.

Allura squeals at the sight and rushes in, marveling at all the pretty shiny things. Hunk and Shay follow after, and soon Shay spots something that catches her eye and points it out to Hunk.

“Look at this,” she says in wonder, holding up a silvery anklet inlaid with bits of glowing crystal, all intricately carved into tiny alien animals and plants, “it’s real Balmeran crystal!”

“It’s beautiful, Shay.”

“Ooh,” pipes up Allura from behind Hunk, making him jump and squeak at her sudden appearance, “you should totally get that, it’d look lovely on you.”

“You think so?”

��I know so.”

“Come on Shay,” adds Hunk, “today is a you day. Indulge a little!”

“I suppose…”

“Great,” exclaims Allura, neatly plucking the bit of jewelry from Shay’s hand and marching over to the counter, her money bag already out, “it’s settled then!”

The rest of the day passes much the same way; the three of them going from shop to shop, occasionally buying things and explaining things for Shay.

They break for lunch at Vrepit Sal’s, much to both Hunk’s and the old chef’s delight. Sal immediately ropes Hunk into helping him with the lunchtime rush “for old times sake,” a task that Hunk is more than happy to take on while Shay and Allura watch. Hunk and Sal easily together, the banter between them light, as if they weren’t on opposing sides of a war just a few years ago.

When they finally leave several hours later Shay’s shoulders are drooping, exhausted from all the excitement and new experiences, but she’s grinning.

“You were right, Princess, I did love it.” She pauses as a yawn splits her face. “But I do not think I have the energy left to pilot us back to the Castle.”

“That’s fine, Hunk or I can do it.”

Hunk wordlessly holds out his fist to Allura and she mirrors him. Three rounds of rock-paper-scissors later it’s decided that Hunk will pilot the pod back.

They pile in, Shay and Allura snuggled together in the passenger seat, and as soon as they’re in the air Shay pulls out her little box with the crystal anklet, turning the piece over and over in her hands, admiring its every angle.

It really was a perfect day.

#vldpositivityday2k17 #yaineart #hunayllura #voltron #voltron legendary defender #hunk #shay #princess allura #vld #mine #sedna writes

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crtranscript · 7 years

Text

Talks Machina: In the Dark - March 21, 2017

LIAM: It'll be okay, Brian.

BRIAN: IBS be damned, we're back. Trinket's green now, was blue. Not that that matters. I don't see color. Sam, [user] wants to know--

SAM: Wait, we're still doing this goddamned show?

MARISHA: I know.

SAM: Jesus.

BRIAN: For at least...a little while longer.

LIAM: We're taping the next seven episodes tonight. Strap in.

BRIAN: Yeah! [user] wants to know--these questions come from the Project Alpha chatroom--Sam, will Momlan need a new nickname?

SAM: She will. My mother, Momlan, needs a new nickname.

BRIAN: What about--

MARISHA: Momyington?

SAM: Sam-has-crippling-IBS?

BRIAN: No, nooo. What about...

SAM: Momyon?

BRIAN: Nevermind. I have a couple ideas, but they're NSFI. Not safe for Internet.

SAM: Oh. Wow.

LIAM: I like it. I think she should stay Momlan. When's she gonna be on the show?

SAM: Whenever we do the mother's day episode?

BRIAN: She--I would love to do that--she lives across the country, much like my betrothed.

LIAM: Yeah.

SAM: She lives in the same city.

BRIAN: She lives in the same city!

LIAM: Ash shows up once in a while.

SAM: Ooh, what if my mom and Ash started like a game together?

LIAM: Oooh.

MARISHA: [gasping]

BRIAN: Uh, I'd watch it.

SAM: Yeah.

MARISHA: I'd watch it so hard.

SAM: Yeah, that would be good.

MARISHA: That would be so good.

SAM: That would be a good show.

MARISHA: I would--I would love that.

SAM: I don't know--yeah, yeah, she definitely needs a new name. I don't know if it's...Momyon--

MARISHA: Mommy-dearest Darington.

LIAM: Momyon.

SAM: Sure. Sure.

MARISHA: No wire hangers.

SAM: Or just--

BRIAN: Tary-Mom Dary-Mom. Robo-Chai [user]. Robo... Chai.

SAM: Could be Robo-Chai [ch pronounced as in Hebrew].

BRIAN: Robo-Chai [Hebrew pronunciation] wants to know, Liam--

LIAM: Yeah.

BRIAN: Why didn't Vax cash in on that theater date when they were in Va-SELL-heem [sic]?

LIAM: Va-SELL-heem?

BRIAN: Vasselheim.

LIAM: The theater is not in Va-SELL-heem.

BRIAN: I know.

LIAM: So... I don't know.

BRIAN: Why didn't he cash in on the theater when it's not there? That's what they want to know.

LIAM: Yeah. I dunno.

MARISHA: We did in real life. We did it real-lifesies.

LIAM: Yeah, we had a big--

BRIAN: Fun Home!

LIAM: --big Vox Machina date night.

SAM: Oh! We saw--yeah.

MARISHA: Finally made it to the theater.

SAM: We all went out to the theater together--

BRIAN: Sorry I missed it.

SAM: --and saw some quality musical theater in Los Angeles.

LIAM: Oh, quality.

SAM: It was good.

MARISHA: So good.

LIAM: We all wept--

MARISHA: We ugly cried the whole time.

LIAM: --ate good food--

SAM: Yeah, it was great

LIAM: So good.

MARISHA: Yeah.

SAM: Good show.

BRIAN: I didn't go.

MARISHA: You were missed.

LIAM: Yeah, that was by design.

SAM: [whispering] I just got my--I just got my Hamilton tickets today.

BRIAN: Restraining order--

LIAM: FUCK YOU, SAM! SHUT UP!

BRIAN: You did?!

LIAM: NEXT QUESTION!

BRIAN: Do you know how he got those--

MARISHA: Wait, did you really?

BRIAN: Do you know how he got--

MARISHA: Oh, you diiiick!

BRIAN: --those Hamilton tickets? Swallowing swords.

[all laughing]

SAM: It's cavernous. My throat is cavernous.

BRIAN: Hashtag: MyThroatIsCavernous. Sam, Warden [user] wants to know--Ooh, the Warden--when do you think Tary's going to realize how close he's coming to dying? Does someone have to die and not come back before his crippling fear kicks in?

LIAM: Yeah, are you Paul Reiser in Aliens?

BRIAN: Oh, good pull!

SAM: Uh, I'm Paul Reiser in Mad About You.

BRIAN: It's kind of true.

SAM: Uh, I, uh, I think he is scared. Puts on a brave face around the gang, but if Matt ever cuts to him at night, it's just mostly shaking and, uh, and bargaining with death. I think he's super-scared and intimidated and he hasn't really thought this whole Nine Hells thing through. They've talked about it, but I think he's gonna be--he's gonna be pretty worried to go, ah, because yeah, being knocked out underwater is certainly the closest thing he's come to any real danger in his life. Um, and that's probably pretty--pretty hard to take.

LIAM: Oh man, Taryon is me.

SAM: Yeah. Yeah! He has soft hands.

BRIAN: He does, yeah.

MARISHA: Are you saying there's like a chance that Taryon will chicken out?

BRIAN: Are you saying there's a chance?

SAM: Sure, there's always a chance.

MARISHA: That he's gonna bail?

SAM: Maybe I'll roll for it.

MARISHA: Oh man.

SAM: Right now? Let's do it!

BRIAN: No, it'll break the--the thing.

SAM: Let's do it. I'll do it on the floor.

BRIAN: It'll break the floor!

[all laughing]

BRIAN: Dude, Jill [sic] doesn't fuck around with his blogsmithing [sic].

LIAM: Don't fuck us, Jill [sic].

SAM: Jesus, this is heavy.

BRIAN: Don't fuck us, Jill [sic].

SAM: All right.

MARISHA: Yeah, it's gonna cost us like $600 to ship that to the lucky winner.

SAM: Here goes.

BRIAN: Well, y'know what?

SAM: Ten or more, I'm brave enough.

BRIAN: Whoever sends me the--

MARISHA: Ten or more and you're brave enough?

SAM: And I'm brave enough, yeah.

LIAM: Get it.

BRIAN: I can't see from that far.

MARISHA: [gasps]

SAM: Don't tell the people.

LIAM: Noice. So long, Taryon!

SAM: Welp, I guess Taryon's gonna leave next episode, so tune in for that guys. Gotta work on my new character. Let's see here, he's...I'm just spitballing. I'm looking up at the ceiling--he's a pipe! He's a pipe.

BRIAN: He's a pipe.

MARISHA: Mm. Okay. Yeah.

SAM: Nope? Uh, he's a sprinkler! Nope? Ah...ah...ah...oh, he's an asshole!

[all reacting]

MARISHA: Word association.

BRIAN: I've been called worse things. Smart. Marisha--

[laughing]

BRIAN: --I am digging your shoes, Dicegasm [user] says.

MARISHA: Thanks!

BRIAN: Would like to get a pair for my wife.

MARISHA: These are--remember, Laura had some--

BRIAN: What's the brand?

MARISHA: --she has the Zelda ones. These are like the--the NES VANS. They put out a line of the Nintendo VANS...

BRIAN: I'm wearing Star Wars VANS right now.

LIAM: Yeah, nerd, yeah.

MARISHA: Laura has the Zelda ones and these are the Duck Hunt ones!

BRIAN: Those are awesome. Duck Hunt. Okay, Dicegasm, you just made your wife's birthday, or month. Question for Leave-Him Or-Fry-Him.

LIAM: Yeah.

BRIAN: From Reese-master3000 [user]: Vax isn't thinking about marriage, but who would be his best man: Vex, or one of the guys?

MARISHA: Oh, holy shit.

LIAM: Oh, Vex.

SAM: Good question.

LIAM: Vex.

BRIAN: Great question.

LIAM: I mean he's--they're not going down that road, but Vex. Absolutely Vex.

MARISHA: Yeah, would definitely be your best man. Yeah. She would stand behind him.

SAM: What if you had an extended wedding party?

LIAM: Oh, well...

SAM: Let's say three people. Vex is best man, then two others. Two others.

MARISHA: Jeeze.

LIAM: My god. Vex...then it would go, uh...oh man...

MARISHA: This is a hard enough question in real life, I just want to put that out, cause I'm--

LIAM: Yeah, yeah, been there.

MARISHA: --in the middle of it.

SAM: How about that little boy that you took a liking to?

LIAM: Oh, yeah, totally Kynan--

SAM: Sure.

LIAM: --would be my flower boy and he could throw--

SAM: Gilmore?!

LIAM: --uh, Gilmore would be in the wedding party, sure. Yeah.

MARISHA: Really?

LIAM: A hundred percent, Gilmore would be in the wedding party.

MARISHA: 'cause we would like--

SAM: Ring-bearer?

MARISHA: --okay, 'cause Keyleth and Vax would fight over who's standing on whose side.

LIAM: You'd want Gilmore?

SAM: Yeah, who's in Keyleth's party?

MARISHA: Nonono.

LIAM: Right.

MARISHA: But I would--I'd probably want Percy.

LIAM: Let's hash this out.

MARISHA: Wait--

LIAM: Are we going to do the table seating as well?

MARISHA: --who's officiating? Who's officiating?

LIAM: Uh...

MARISHA: 'cause maybe Gilmore officates.

SAM: Wait, wait, wait, before we get to officiating, who's in Keyleth's wedding party?

BRIAN: Gilmore should absolutely officiate.

MARISHA: It depends on who's officiating.

SAM: Three people.

LIAM: I think--I think Allura.

BRIAN: Wait, why does it depend on who's officiating?

MARISHA: Allura?

LIAM: Allura should officiate.

MARISHA: Because they might be in my wedding party if they're not officiating.

BRIAN: Ohhhhh.

LIAM: This is so...

SAM: It's gonna be--

LIAM: ...layered and...

MARISHA: This is so ridiculous.

SAM: --Pike. Pike. Pike could officiate.

MARISHA: Tumblr's just exploding right now.

LIAM: Pike could--Pike could officiate.

SAM: Pike could officiate.

LIAM: That's true.

MARISHA: Oh my goooood!

SAM: Also--oh wait! Captain--the captain we just met.

BRIAN: Captain Jack Sparrow!

LIAM: The universe is folding in on itself.

MARISHA: Yes!

SAM: No! Captain Adella! 'cause a ship's captain--

BRIAN: Oh yeah.

SAM: --can marry people. [Ed. note: this is mostly a myth.]

LIAM: We just met that woman. C'mon.

MARISHA: No, Pike. Pike!

SAM: So Pike's going to officiate and then who's in your wedding party? Y'gotta pick--

MARISHA: Percy.

SAM: Kay.

LIAM: Well, Scanlan hit the bricks, so I'd might've--

SAM: Yeah, he's gone.

LIAM: --had difficulty with Scanlan and Grog, but it'd be Vex, it'd be Grog, it'd be...Gilmore. If I had three.

MARISHA: Vex for...okay, you're taking Grog.

LIAM: Yeah. Oh, so that would be one that we'd have to--

MARISHA: Fight over?

LIAM: Go back and forth on.

MARISHA: Yeah. No, you can have Grog. That's fair.

LIAM: I would let Grog go to Keyleth if she--

MARISHA: No, he talked in your resurrection, that's fine.

LIAM: What is this conversation?

SAM: It's great. It's great! I'm not--this is--I'm so into this.

BRIAN: I'm halfway through all of the stuff I have to do to get ready for my taxes. While you guys were doing that, I was just thinking about my taxes.

SAM: Sorry, Brian.

BRIAN: Oh, you're fine. You're fine.

SAM: Run the show, run the show.

LIAM: We could probably get Doctor--

MARISHA: Uh, Ker.

LIAM: Ker, absolutely!

MARISHA: She'd have Ker.

BRIAN: Ker, yeah.

LIAM: Absolutely, absolutely. We'd get Doctor Dranzel and Kaylie to come and play the wedding.

SAM: Sure.

LIAM: Be awkward, though, because is Scanlan gonna be there, is he not, don't know.

SAM: Yeah, they'll still play the hits, though.

LIAM: Yeah.

SAM: They'll do--

MARISHA: Maybe like Allura, too.

SAM: --an Earth, Wind, and Fire song.

LIAM: Allura.

MARISHA: Maybe Allura for Keyleth.

LIAM: That makes sense.

MARISHA: Eh, it's tough.

LIAM: That makes sense.

MARISHA: Yeah? Yeah?

BRIAN: Question from Kevala-After-Dark [user]: Brian, screw these guys, how's your game going?

SAM: The first question--

LIAM: Yes!

SAM: --to Brian--

MARISHA: Yeah!

SAM: --Foster on the show?

LIAM: I don't know if it's the first.

BRIAN: Jill [sic] asked one a few weeks ago.

LIAM: How is that game going?

BRIAN: My game is going great. We've had threeeee? so far. We lost a person. We lost a player.

SAM: They died?

LIAM: Oh, did Will--

SAM: They died?

LIAM: Did Will Friedle kill somebody? One of the players?

BRIAN: Not yet, but Will's doing some really shady shit that I'm kinda worried about.

LIAM: Not surprised.

BRIAN: I'm excited about it...

LIAM: Not surprised.

BRIAN: ...but I'm worried, Will. It's going really good! Um, yeah we lost Ryder Strong, so now we're just half of Boy Meets D&D.

LIAM: Lost...

MARISHA: Oh, yeah, sure sure sure.

LIAM: ...how?

BRIAN: He's busy.

LIAM: Life in the way?

BRIAN: He has a child. Yeah. You guys know how it is, with the kids.

MARISHA: Yeah, y'know, it's like freshman year of college. Half of 'em go.

BRIAN: Oh, I see what you're saying. Yeah, I was like--

SAM: Half of 'em go?

BRIAN: --freshman year of college, let's see, I burned down the school, uh...

MARISHA: Didn't they do that to you in college, where they were like in your orientation and they were like, "Look to your left, look to your rife [sic] -- right, one of you two--"

BRIAN: Look to your rife!

MARISHA: Rife!

LIAM: Uh, they told me--

SAM: One of those people won't be here?!

MARISHA: Yeah. They did that to me.

SAM: What college did you two go to?

BRIAN: No, they said--no, what they say is, they say look to your right, look to your left, and they say you probably won't see a lot of these people again after today.

LIAM: I'm pretty sure in my--

MARISHA: You will bury them--

LIAM: --acting studio--

MARISHA: --in the back of your [inaudible]

LIAM: --a guy said most of these people will get out of the business.

SAM: That is true.

BRIAN: He did?

LIAM: Yes.

MARISHA: Yeah, it's a douchey actory thing, like I went to an actory, conservatory school that I spent way too much money on, so...

SAM: Oh.

MARISHA: Yeah. That's what they do to you.

SAM: It's funny, 'cause on our first--the first time we played D&D, that's what we all said to each other as well.

MARISHA: Oh yeah, look to your left, look to your right--

SAM: Yeah, half of us won't be here next week.

MARISHA: --won't be here at the end of this, yeah. Wait, that's kind of what happens.

BRIAN: No, it's been fun.

MARISHA: Good.

BRIAN: Uh, we have eight now, so I mean it's like okay, we're fine.

SAM: You had nine?!

BRIAN: With our DM, yeah--

LIAM: Wow, nine?

SAM: Whoa, that's too many.

BRIAN: --we were stocked up like you guys.

[all talking overlapping]

MARISHA: So you're a seven-person party now?

BRIAN: We are, and it's really good. I'm made of glass and fragile and delicate, but I'm level two--

LIAM: You, Brian, or your character?

BRIAN: Well, we all know me. I am as fragile of heart as they come.

LIAM: I don't know if that's true.

SAM: It's true.

BRIAN: I don't either. I find it suspicious.

MARISHA: I learned that by your Punisher shirt.

BRIAN: Maaaan. Lot of love for the Punisher. Can't wait for the show.

MARISHA: You should watch it--you should watch your love for the Punisher on your episode of Signal Boost!

BRIAN: On Shignal Broost [sic]!

MARISHA: Whaaaat.

SAM: Are you hosting?

LIAM: Cross-promotion!

BRIAN: I already did.

MARISHA: It's already out, man.

BRIAN: I filmed it.

MARISHA: Yeah.

BRIAN: Lots of people quit that day.

LIAM: Brain [sic], yours is out? I didn't see it?

BRIAN: It's not out, it's not out.

LIAM: No.

BRIAN: It's not out, no. They have to censor a lot of it, right?

MARISHA: Oh right, oh yeah, no, it's not out. It's not out.

BRIAN: It's not out. It'll be a few weeks.

MARISHA: I think I've seen the rough cut--

LIAM: It's 7% out.

BRIAN: Yeah, it'll be a few weeks.

MARISHA: --that's why I'm thinking it is out.

LIAM: It's--

MARISHA: No, yeah, it'll be a couple more--actually, I think we have pick-ups to film after this episode.

BRIAN: Signal Boost.

MARISHA: That's a true story.

BRIAN: It's a great show. When are you going to host it, Sam? Liam did it, I did it.

SAM: Liam hosted Signal Boost?!

BRIAN: Yeah, same day I did!

LIAM: Sure did, son.

MARISHA: Sure did.

BRIAN: We filmed it back to back to back!

SAM: Has everyone hosted this show except for me at this point?

LIAM: No.

MARISHA: I will say I think you might be one of our number one most requested people.

LIAM: Makes sense.

SAM: I've never even seen the show. [laughing]

BRIAN: Do you remember that guy, Scott Peterson?

MARISHA: That's not true! Hey, you told--you said you watched like the first episode--

SAM: I did.

MARISHA: --at--

SAM: And I liked it a lot.

MARISHA: --and you said you liked it, and you were super-surprised, it was like six weeks after it came out--

LIAM: That's just the thing--

MARISHA: --and then I think you had watched it.

LIAM: --he's a really good liar.

[all laughing]

MARISHA: Yeah, I know! Don't toy with my emotions, Sam Riegel!

SAM: I did see it, I did see it.

MARISHA: I'm sitting here thinking you're proud of me.

SAM: I am proud of you.

LIAM: We are proud of you.

MARISHA: Then watching my--

SAM: I love the show. I think it's great.

MARISHA: --watching my dumb comedy dumbness.

SAM: No, I saw it. It was about you picking your dress for your marriage, I think.

MARISHA: Yeah, my fake marriage--

SAM: Yeah.

MARISHA: --in D&D land.

LIAM: ...didn't that just happen?

SAM: No, I--I think--I think I saw it and I remember it being good.

MARISHA: Thank you.

BRIAN: Well, guys...

MARISHA: That's gonna be on the back of our DVD when it comes out. "I think I saw it and I remember it being good?" - Sam Riegel.

LIAM: Sam Riegel says--

MARISHA: New York Times.

LIAM: "I think I saw it; I thought it was very good."

MARISHA: Yeah.

BRIAN: Poor, poor Alpha chat people.

SAM: I'm horrible. I don't watch anything.

BRIAN: Okay, we gotta get through a couple more questions.

LIAM: Yeah, we do.

BRIAN: These poor Alpha chat people sent all these questions--

LIAM: Sorry, Alpha.

BRIAN: --we're sitting here with our dicks in our hands like a bunch of Tarry-Ons [sic].

LIAM: Especially Marisha.

BRIAN: Zicole [user]! Think of Nicole, except with a Zic.

LIAM: Zic-Hole?

BRIAN: Being professional VO actors--Sam, you're gonna fucking love this question.

SAM: I am the best.

BRIAN: Being professional VO actors, how often do you consider taking roles in the theater?

SAM: Consider taking roles? I'm gonna throw this one to Liam O'Brien.

LIAM: Oh man, I sit and stare at my wall in the middle of the night and think, "God, wouldn't it be so good to be on the stage again except that I want to make more than a nickel a week."

MARISHA: Yeah.

LIAM: Um...

BRIAN: Favorite play you were in.

LIAM: It was the Cripple of Inishman, [affecting Irish accent] same playwright. I played a crippled little Irishaman in a two-thousand seat theater when I was twenty-two. This was in the 30s. [normal accent] Martin McDonough was the playwright. I was the lead in a show in Salt Lake City, away for the first time.

SAM: Theater capital of Utah.

LIAM: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh man. But that's eons ago. No, I mean I love what I'm doing. I love the weird, elven, dorky, robot worlds that we populate during the day. I fuckin' love playing D&D every Thursday night, so. I did miss the theater a lot until I started this show because it scratches--

BRIAN: That itch.

LIAM: --that actor improv itch very well.

MARISHA: Da.

SAM: Yeah, I mean same. Same answer over here. I am a boy of the theater and I haven't done a stage play in several years now. My last one was the stage version of Freakdance: The Forbidden Dirty Boogaloo. We did that on stage for a number of years before we shot the movie.

BRIAN: Timeless classic.

SAM: Timeless classic. And, uh, but no, this--this definitely feels like it's a performance. There's an audience, there's a cast, there's lights, I put on lots of makeup.

BRIAN: Yeah.

SAM: And, uh, and it--it feels like it's a--it's a show. But man, wouldn't it be great to do a show-show? Like a theater show?

LIAM: Yeah.

SAM: Maybe you and me should write a two-man...thing. Like a...like one of those pretentious, like ones where we have a little scene and then one of us freezes and the other one like turns to the audience and says, like, "And that's when I realized my life wasn't getting any better than this" and then we're back in the scene.

LIAM: How 'bout you just get on my body.

[laughing]

SAM: That'll be good too. Or we could just do a two-hour fuckfest.

MARISHA: Or you could do a--

SAM: People would pay like twenty bucks to just watch us just rail each other.

MARISHA: --you could do a podcast that could have more than eight episodes.

BRIAN: You can come to my house after the show and see something quite similar. Did you do theater growing up?

MARISHA: I did! Yeah, yeah, yeah.

BRIAN: I did, too.

MARISHA: I did. Did we--ah my god--

LIAM: And dancing?

MARISHA: --did we all do theater, you guys?

BRIAN: I did 1984, 16-years old, senior year of high school, took me three and a half months to learn all the lines with my dad after school for like four or five hours a day 'cause it's basically a one-man show except a couple other characters, but...

MARISHA: Yeah, yeah, 1984. It's bananas.

BRIAN: That was fun. It was a challenge. I did only comedy in theater all throughout high school and stuff at that point, so it was fun to do a more serious part but I missed--there's nothing like it.

LIAM: Nothing like it.

MARISHA: No.

BRIAN: Nothing like it.

MARISHA: You get the live reaction from the audience.

LIAM: It's like surfing. You get that energy right in your face and it charges you up.

BRIAN: And you can pee while you're in there.

LIAM: Mm-hmm.

MARISHA: Yeah.

BRIAN: Well, that's all the time we have for tonight folks. Uh, I would like to thank Courtney for collating all the answers--the questions we didn't answer from the Alpha chat.

LIAM: We got to, like, two or three, right?

BRIAN: Let's ask one more, fuck this.

MARISHA: Yeah.

SAM: We're doing one more?

BRIAN: Fuck the cat-petting executives and their rules.

MARISHA: Us planning out our bridal party in our imaginary world--

SAM: Was half the show.

MARISHA: --was very important.

LIAM: Blame it on us, Brian.

BRIAN: Marisha, would you consider not--we're gonna do lightning round--would you consider not taking the 18th level of Druid to avoid living longer or would you rather have those sweet 18/20 level abilities?

MARISHA: Fuck that, I'm going for gold, bitcheeeeeees!

BRIAN: What is the one class you would want--never want to play either because of mechanics or personal playstyles?

SAM: Gunslinger!

LIAM: To never play?

BRIAN: Never play, yeah.

LIAM: Bard, because you've owned it.

SAM: Noooo.

MARISHA: Aww.

LIAM: Yes. Yes.

BRIAN: Yeah, that's true, it would be a hard ass to follow.

LIAM: I'm never--not gonna touch Bard, ever. Ever.

SAM: I-I don't wanna do Gunslinger. Guns scare me.

BRIAN: Yeah. Marisha?

SAM: Lightning round, keep going!

MARISHA: Uh, keep going! Skip!

LIAM: Pass!

BRIAN: For Sam: so, this Brian guy, are we talking raw cabbage, stewed cabbage, or the ever-joyful kimchi? Spill them beans. What do I smell like?

SAM: What do you smell like?

BRIAN: Yeah, is it--

SAM: I don't know.

BRIAN: --raw cabbage, stewed cabbage, or the ever-joyful kimchi?

SAM: I don't know--

MARISHA: Oh, definitely kimchi. You're slightly fermented.

LIAM: Kimchi? This mick? I don't know.

SAM: I was gonna say a nice, fresh, fresh-boiled cabbage, Irish-style.

LIAM: Yeah, big crockpot full of-of-of-of-uh, corned-beef and cabbage, yeah.

MARISHA: The amount of whiskey and sad, I say kimchi.

SAM: Okay.

BRIAN: Ash usually tells me I smell like Jameson after you throw it up.

SAM: Oh, nice.

MARISHA: That's what kimchi smells like!

SAM: That's true, that is true.

BRIAN: Well guys, that's all the time we have--

SAM: We've learned a--

LIAM: Oh wow.

BRIAN: If you could ship any prevalent NPCs, who would pair up and what would their combo attack be called and what would it look like?

LIAM: Ship them, what's their combo attack, and what would it look like? What a question!

BRIAN: Two NPCs.

MARISHA: Allura and Kima for the Ceiling Breakers. The Glass Ceiling Breakers.

BRIAN: Nice.

MARISHA: And, uh, it's Allura rocketing Kima into the glass ceiling.

LIAM: Oh, Raishan and Jarrett and it would be the Drugged Deceiver and he would ride on her neck and he would spew opium over all of Emon!

MARISHA: That's great!

LIAM: Go.

SAM: Uh... Viktor and Gilmore?

LIAM: [pretends to vomit]

[laughing]

SAM: And it would--he's--it would--their--they would use gunpowder and--

BRIAN: No. No no no.

SAM: --and it would be called the Black and Tan? I don't know.

[laughing]

LIAM: Fifteen year friendship is over.

[more laughing]

BRIAN: Folks, we have a lot of public relations work to do now...

[still laughing]

BRIAN: ...and fires to put out...

[continued laughing]

BRIAN: Denise has to update her resume...

[moooore laughing]

BRIAN: We'll see you guys next week. Love you. Thank you so much for watching, good night!

#critical role #criticalrolesource #critical role source #critrolestats #critrolesource #talks machina

11 notes · View notes

the-volatility-blog · 7 years

Text

to let myself go; part 3 [gladio×ignis]

(( i may or may not have edited this 1000 times~ <3 ))</i>

“It needs what, exactly? And for how long?” There was a brief pause as Ignis stared vacantly off into the distance, cell phone pressed to his ear, deciphering the reply on the other end. The Regalia had, this morning, simply ceased to stop working - one moment they were driving along just fine, and the next the acceleration had just stopped. No lights, no engine noise, just a controlled steer into a ditch. Ignis, vexed and slightly embarrassed, had called Cindy for a tow to the nearest large city - Lestallum.

“Mm. All right, if that’s what we need to do. ... Yes, absolutely. Just let me know. ... Thanks, and you as well.”

Ignis clicked his phone shut with a sigh, glancing skyward as he tucked it away smoothly in one pocket. “Cindy says it may take a bit. She knows what parts we need, but she doesn’t have them readily available. So after transport and labor, we’re looking at about... four, five days max.”

“What?!” Prompto’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s almost a whole week! Without a car? We’re totally stranded?!”

“In Lestallum, dummy.” Noctis shouldered his friend slightly, sending Prompto off balance and staggering to one side. “Not like we’re lost in the wild. Civilization, readily available food, shelter..”

“... Soft beds,” Prompto muttered thoughtfully, his expression turning from panicked to a little more serene and wistful. “Yeah... yeah, okay, I’m so on board with being stranded.”

"Yes, and lucky for us, we’ve got a connection here.” Ignis tilted his head, glancing sidelong at Gladio, who was perched contentedly on the hood of their broken car. The larger man grinned and lifted one hand in a thumbs-up gesture. “And lucky for you, you’re with me.” Chidingly and with a wink, Gladio reached into his back pocket for his phone. “Lemme give Iris a call, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

The fates had been kind in stranding them in a place with not only a Crownsguard family member but also their butler, and Gladio had to hold the phone away from his ear a few times, wincing at Iris’ outward shrieks of excitement to have her big brother and friends around for a while.

× × ×

Jared was more than accommodating, and happily put the group up in the Leville for no charge while the Regalia repairs were underway. Ignis thanked him profusely, much to Gladio’s embarrassment, to the point where he pulled the other man aside while their room was being prepared to ask him to kindly “cut it the hell out.” Ignis obliged indignantly with a soft blush across his cheekbones. “Just expressing my appreciation,” he muttered, as Gladio eyed him for a few lengthy seconds before a timely interruption from Noctis, interested in the whereabouts of the local fishing shop. Gladio steered the young prince out the front door and out into the square, leaving Ignis alone and in his own head for a bit.

× × ×

Of course they would end up sharing a bed. Why not, right? Prompto and Noctis were the Best Buddy Squad, which left Gladio and Ignis to occupy the remaining bed. To be fair this was commonplace and truly nothing out of the ordinary, and of course Gladio didn’t mind, but his rampant thoughts on whether Ignis minded or not kept him from meeting sleep a little longer than usual.

He was the first to rise early next morning as the sun breached the cloud cover. Nine times out of ten Gladio was the first awake out of the group. Old habits really do die hard - from a young age he had awoken at the crack of dawn to train. Today was no different.

He slid smoothly from beneath the covers as not to disturb his sleeping bedmate, casting a long glance back over one shoulder as he stepped into his familiar grey training sweatpants. Ignis was fast asleep, breathing shallowly, normally authoritarian features relaxed into a rare and subdued peace. Again his gaze lingered for a few lengthy moments before he realized, yes, you are staring you idiot, and with a start Gladio hastily laced up his shoes and hurried out the door for a run.

Stupid cute Ignis, he thought to himself, as he set out at a slow warmup pace across the early morning emptiness of the square. Lestallum was a sleepy morning city that awoke closer to noon and did nightlife better, and Gladio had always enjoyed the solitary respite of an daybreak jog through the winding alleyways and along the palm-lined streets.

So you’re admitting he’s cute; the next thought that rolled through his head. The pace of his run echoed through the narrow streets, footfalls heavy and measured as he went, almost meditative in its own right. Gladio idly wondered when this idea had begun to take root in his mind. He and Ignis had known each other for many years now... at least 5. (Gladio was terrible with details, tending to eschew them for the big picture.) The two of them, working in tandem as an unspoken pair to Noctis as a youth - both his right hand and his left. Where one lacked, the other filled the gaps, training and molding and creating over the years, the prince - no, king - that now slept soundly through today’s sunrise.

He allowed a brief bout of quiet to settle over his thoughts as he cautiously crossed the main roadway and jogged easily alongside the parking lots overlooking the landscape beyond. The street vendors were closed, carts shuttered and abandoned for the time being, and tall palm trees swayed lazily in the warm morning breeze. Gladio slowed to a stop as he turned away from the city to catch his breath and stretch out a twinging hamstring, gazing out over the lots, past the wall edge, over the widened expanse of trees and mountains dotting the horizon.

... Yeah.

And that was all it would take, a simple affirmative. No overthinking, no spending days observing or pondering or weighing his chances or options. It had never been his style to get caught up in the minutiae of things, and he certainly wasn’t about to start. Gladio was nothing if not a man of decisive action, and he stretched a for few moments more in his own silence before he turned, crossing the street once more to finish his jog back to the hotel.

× × ×

He returned to find Ignis fussing with the coffeemaker, Prompto in the shower, and Noctis predictably still asleep. “The kid that slept through a car accident,” he muttered to himself, shutting the door behind him before turning his attention across the room. Ignis had his slim form craned across the table, apparently examining the back of the coffeemaker, a deep frown etched all over his face. “What are you doing?” Gladio was across the room in a few long strides.

“I swear, I’ve tried everything, this thing just won’t... it’s not...” Ignis’ words trailed off as he prodded at the rear of the coffeemaker urgently, the place where the cord met the machine. He had coffee grounds on his face and on his fingertips, a small can of ground Ebony sitting near the edge of the table, forgotten in the stress of the moment. Leave it to a malfunctioning coffeemaker to shake the unshakable man.

Gladio felt a small smile curve his lips. “Dude, your plug’s probably in upside down. Hold on.” He crouched down, reaching under the table and to the outlet on the wall to pull the plug, turning it halfway around and replacing it in its socket. “It’s these old buildings, you can only plug stuff in one way or it won’t work.” Gladio stood up, dusting his hands on his pants. “Give it a go.”

Ignis regarded him skeptically, but replaced the machine’s filter and grounds, pushing the ‘brew’ button. The red light turned on, and a hissing noise wisped from the coffeemaker as it began heating the water inside. The tension visibly left Ignis’ body as he exhaled slowly, adjusting his glasses. “Well. I’ve not encountered that problem before. I’ll have to remember that for the future.” He glanced up to Gladio with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. Just another example why you’re lucky to have me around. Jeez, Iggy, you’ve got shit all over your face.” In a smooth and decisive moment, Gladio stepped around the table to draw up next to the other man, the rough pad of his thumb casually pressing to Ignis’ cheek as he began softly swiping stray coffee grounds away.

He noticed the barely there sharp intake of breath, slight widening of eyes, a wordless anticipatory tension as Ignis stood up a little bit straighter at the gentle ministration. His skin was impossibly soft, and Gladio found himself staring intently at his thumb as it moved, slowly dusting the debris away bit by bit. “Looks like you lost a fight with a coffee grinder,” he murmured softly, his voice a comfortable and heady rumble that bridged the small space between them. And he noticed it when, just scarcely, Ignis made no motion to shy away from the touch but instead leaned into it, the subtle bit of pressure against his thumb, and somewhere in the recesses of his brain he absently hoped his facial expression wasn’t giving away the racing of his heart.

The room suddenly quieted as the shower shut off, and the two of them simultaneously took a tiny step back from one another, faces flushing. Ignis redirected his attention quite intently to the coffeemaker as it completed its brew cycle, and Gladio coughed softly into one fist as he closely sidestepped the other man, passing alongside of him to step out onto the balcony and remember how to breathe. It had been so easy to forget that there were other people in close proximity, too easy.

He sat alone for a few minutes more, collecting himself and taking his time unlacing his shoes; getting his head straight as the room behind him awoke and prepared for the day.

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