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pot-of-terv · 3 years

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Disclaimer: This starts soft but very quickly goes to a place I did NOT expect it to go so, just, be prepared. I guess there were some things my muse just couldn’t leave untouched :_D There’s also an additional drawing in there somewhere among the text. The ending is kind of a cliffhanger (dun dun duuun... part three is coming!!) but it’s happy (hurt/comfort y’all, MY BRAND)!

Also I have to say- oh my goodness this ended up having over 2,000 words and I’ve never written a fic this long! This feels pretty amazing but also, very scary, because as you know I’m a Finn so English is not my first language and this far I’ve stuck to just writing itty bitty things. Writing a story with multiple parts is also new to me, so wow, actually, thank you PuzzleJune for making me challenge myself in fresh and exciting ways 🥺

tw: breakdown

PuzzleJune2021, Week Two: Space (Quiet)

It is mesmerising. Intoxicating, even, Atem muses as he reaches up to rub his own sleep-soft face, eyes never leaving the still sleeping figure beside him. He shifts to lay on his side, slowly, with deliberate movements, trying to not disturb the quiet of the early morning.

Watching him sleep like this... I can feel the bed move when he moves and his warmth whenever he's close enough. I never had that before, he thinks and his heart clenches. I have it now.

Yuugi snorts in his sleep and Atem can't help but smile. That boy... no, that young man, has been through so much, too much, and yet he still sleeps so soundly. It's nothing short of incredible and the pharaoh wonders if he's ever met anyone more deserving of respect and admiration. Their journey thus far has only lasted for a couple of years and during that short time, the former spirit of the Millenium Puzzle has had the first-row seat to witnessing Yuugi's strength, his growth - how he slowly but surely had begun to trust himself.

Atem turns his gaze away from Yuugi and mulls over that thought. It hurts him somewhere deep in his core to remember how little worth Yuugi had seen in himself during those first months after Atem's consciousness awakened. He touches his chest where his heart is and leaves his hand there, feeling the slow rhythm beating under his palm.

That feeling of self-doubt could as well be his own, for he did think he was Yuugi for a while back then. It's a troubling realisation and he frowns at the ceiling. Despite not having any memories, how many of those insecurities had been Atem's own that he subconsciously reflected towards Yuugi's heart and by doing so unknowingly meddled with Yuugi's self-image as a whole? Objectively he knows that his emergence helped Yuugi gain confidence even though he didn't remember those first few times Atem took his place, but subjectively...? Atem's brows knit tighter together and he balls the hand that rests on his chest into a fist.

To call these thoughts troubling is an understatement. Suddenly Atem feels uncomfortably restless, he can't keep still, he needs space, he has to move. But moving would mean leaving the warm blankets and the even warmer form next to him and risk waking him in the process.

His chest feels so tight and it aches in a way Atem hasn't felt in millennia and he squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and with one swift movement pushes the blankets off of himself, sits up and rolls to the side to plant his feet onto the floor. The wood is cool under the bare soles of his feet and that sudden feeling makes him pause for a moment. He releases the breath he was holding.

It's almost funny how he already feels better. He glances over his shoulder to see if he had woken Yuugi up but the other youth seems undisturbed, still fast asleep. Relieved, Atem stands up... and doesn't know what to do. It's still practically night time and the house is silent. Mama Mutou and Grandpa will be getting up in one to two hours and Yuugi much later than that if his previous findings are to be trusted. Normally he would happily snooze the morning away with Yuugi but he doesn't want to go back to bed, the restlessness still buzzing under his skin even though that unpleasant tightness in his chest has ebbed and is now just a nuisance instead of actual, painful anxiety.

He turns around to face the bed so he can take another look at Yuugi, properly. A glance wasn't enough. Will never be enough, he realises all of a sudden. I want to be looking at Yuugi, and only Yuugi, forever. How can his heart feel so big and full but so small at the same time?

Atem is overwhelmed, not yet used to the absolute link between his feelings and his physical senses, and he lifts his hand once more to his chest, almost desperately grasping his shirt and pressing his fist against his heart, to feel the beat of it, and the warmth of his body.

He has this body now and he should be so, so thankful for it, but at this moment he can only feel guilt. He loves Yuugi but has still put him through so much and he knows, oh how he knows, that the trip to Egypt broke him. Atem had felt Yuugi mourn him weeks beforehand, felt his grief he so valiantly tried to conceal - too bad their bond at that point was the strongest it had ever been and Atem knew. It took everything in him to keep on going, to keep on telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this was how he could repay Yuugi's kindness and let him go on with his life, let him be free. He had heard the modern phrase “if you love them let them go”, and wouldn't that have been so grand? To prove his love in such a poetic, profound way?

All that in spite of Yuugi's feelings screaming at him that to be separated was the last thing he wanted.

Atem chuckles, a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite having shared such an extraordinary bond, communication had never been their strongest point, duels usually excluded, and talking about their feelings was not an exception. Still isn’t. They both had just kept on doing what they thought was the best for the other and in the process ended up wounding each other in ways that Atem isn't sure he can ever truly understand. Yesterday he had come down to the kitchen to find Yuugi folding laundry, eyes puffy and red, yet when he talked he sounded so happy. Atem had left it at that because there's nothing he could do when confronted by that smile that can put even the Sun in shade.

Slowly he realises that he's been staring at his partner for such a long time that it must be bordering on creepy. How did he get here from that warmth he first woke up to, from that love he so deeply feels for Yuugi? Why hasn’t he thought about these things before? It's like all he has in his head are questions with no answers to calm his mind. It's only been a week since... since it all should've ended, but didn't, all because of Atem's selfishness. Selfishness... and love. His own heart had broken when his life points counted down to zero and he saw the utter hopelessness he felt surface in his heart reflected right back at him on Yuugi's face. The memory of it is still so strong that he has to grit his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling.

He hadn’t been able to stand that expression, to stand the knowledge that he was the cause of it. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough. The pride he had felt toward Yuugi's skill was completely overshadowed by the grief that hit him in waves, his legs feeling like lead as he slowly walked to Yuugi, his own voice distant to his ears as he offered words of consolation and praise. Empty words, they were, he knew it then and he knows it now. How could he ever leave this person who had gone through so much for him, because of him, who had loved him so fully, who had risked it all to be there for him in his quest to regain his memories even when knowing that the price for that would be too steep to consider if Yuugi ever stopped to do that?

Atem had never wanted to leave. He had learned to live again, to have friends, and grow as a person, no matter how minuscule that growth might have been. Yuugi had been him and then Yuugi had become his world. There's no other way to explain it. As much as Atem had longed for his memories, for those people he loved and lost all those thousands of years ago, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another family. Even when the prize would be to regain his first one.

But he had to. He had thought he had to.

Yet when he was just about to take the last step, he had faltered. Had wondered - does it have to be this way? What if there's another choice he could make?

And the gods had answered him. He didn't have to beg, he didn't have to fight, he just had to ask.

Just ask.

It had been so simple, in the end, so effortless. Of course, Atem asked for that third choice - or didn't really even ask, he didn't dare, he wished for it, his heart on the verge of breaking a second time. He had been painfully aware of his friends behind him, holding their breaths, waiting for the end. Atem felt their feelings wrap around him like a cloak and he bore the weight of it, accepted it, as he couldn't quite believe that it would be that easy to stay. So he had wished.

And that wish had been granted.

And now he is here.

Standing in the middle of the floor in Yuugi's room while Yuugi sleeps, hands closed into fists, both grasping his shirt now, holding back tears that threaten to spill forth. Wondering why did he even put Yuugi through all that, when in the end, it was for nothing? Oh, he thinks, oh, how it hurts. His own shortcomings, his own pain, the pain that he had caused others. Especially the pain that he had caused Yuugi. He hadn’t deserved it, he never deserved something so cruel and insincere as Atem's decision to leave had been.

A sob wrangles itself up and out of his mouth, he's not able to stop it in time and that breaks his resolve. He sways on his feet as tears force their way out and streak his cheeks, fall into his shirt and seep into the fabric as he hiccups and tries half-heartedly to stop it. He shouldn't be crying, not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself - he should be the one to take responsibility, to carry that burden without a hitch. But, the thing is… at this moment, he’s no longer the prince-then-pharaoh from 3000 years ago. He’s no longer the amnesiac spirit occupying the Puzzle. He’s not the King of Games.

At this moment, he’s just a 16-year-old boy who is desperately trying to deal with every responsibility he’s imagined are only his to bear and failing spectacularly. So he cries, and cries, and he can no longer see with how blurry his eyes have gone. He prays Yuugi won't wake up to it, he just has to suffer through it and he'll be fine. Crying is fine, actually. He would laugh at himself if he could - aren't tears an actual luxury, after all? He wasn't able to cry his own tears with his own body before, but now he can.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Atem's heart drops into his stomach - oh no, now he's woken up - then another on the other side, then a tug, and Atem follows blindly. He's guided back to the bed and coaxed to sit down where a warm body presses against him and he's enveloped in an embrace.

Atem finds that he can't talk, he tries to draw breath to get the words out but sobs are the only thing he can produce and finally, he hears a voice call his name. It's so soft and warm and loving that Atem somehow feels worse and buries his head into Yuugi’s shoulder, his chest heaving and he almost wails from the struggle of it.

“Shh, other me. Cry it out. It helps. I know.”

He listens to Yuugi and does just that. It’s not easy to give up the reins but with Yuugi by his side, he finds the will to allow himself to succumb. He clutches his partner's shirt, holds him and is held in return, and lets himself cry. Lets his tears come like he's never done before and faced with the force of them, he feels like there's no end to it.

But there is an end. After a period of time that feels like an eternity, his sobs subside, his tears slow down, and he feels like he can finally loosen his hold of Yuugi's shirt to let blood flow into his fingers again. His nose feels snotty and he's sure there's no dry spot left on his partner's clothes and somehow that thought makes him laugh.

“See? All better now,” Yuugi murmurs against his temple and presses his lips there. That sign of affection almost makes Atem's eyes well up but he squeezes them shut, refusing to start crying all over again. He feels drained and empty and he's pretty sure he should be ashamed. He had woken Yuugi up and made him comfort him without asking but all he can feel is gratitude. Gratitude and love and endless adoration.

“Aibou,” he sniffles, voice congested and raw. He means to thank him but his throat closes up, yet Yuugi seems to catch his meaning.

“No need,” the shorter of the two says and Atem can feel his smile against his skin, “it's okay. You're okay, we're okay, everything's okay.”

Atem wants to argue but finds no energy for it. And - as he thinks about it, he realises that Yuugi is right.

They're okay.

He wraps his arms properly around Yuugi and squeezes, sighing softly. His mind is comfortably quiet now and he presses his ear against Yuugi's chest, listening to the beat of his heart (his heart's heart?) and feeling his own fall smoothly into the same rhythm. It's natural, it's right.

“I think,” he manages to croak out, “that we need to talk.”

Yuugi holds him closer and nods before pressing his face into Atem’s hair.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved, “we sure do, other me.”

#ygo dm #yugioh #puzzleshipping #puzzlespace #puzzlejune2021 #puzzlejune #puzzlequiet #atem #yuugi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #fanart #fanfic #this bad boy can fit so many headcanons and projection in it #i am in the possession of the crybaby beam and i'm not afraid to use it (for real though. my agenda is to Normalize Boys Crying)#(no i will not be taking criticism)

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noirbriar · 2 years

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FFXV AU: Ruin

Surprise! Its not the usual AU! I have zero reasons for this. Absolutely no reason at all but to procrastinate in the middle of work.

note that this is a FFX and FFXV crossover, mostly heavy lore usage.

prompts: ( magic )

TW: Death and related mentions

——

A sea of white uniforms clamours up their shores. The army of white death descends upon them. His mothers blood taints his beloved sisters beautiful dress as his brothers falls, one after another. The wailing of destruction and whistling bullet fills the air until nothing remains.

His people then forced to kneel before the invaders.The submission of the young and frail makes anger bubble from within Nyx. Yet he stays his hand as a gun points to his head and towards several groups of his kinsmen, and to Selena. The Galahdian forces are given a cruel choice.

“Will you submit to the Empire? Or would you have your people choose death?”

——

“SELENA!”

“Big brother, help-”

——

“Oh no, I killed him!”

“You didn’t Prom, don’t worry he’s breathing, look!”

“Noctis, do NOT-“

A smack across his cheek and Nyx gasps.

His sudden awakening into reality startles a group of boys back, a raven haired one quickly pulling the blond Niflheimian behind him. Before Galahdian finds himself facing the edge of a sword. Several swords in fact, as a group of dark uniform soldiers began to crowd around him.

This, this does not seem right. Where is the Niflehiem army? Why are these weirdly dressed Lucians surrounding him? Is it night? Why is it so quiet, and dark? Is this place some odd ritual ground?

It was awhile before the edge of a katana draws nearer to the skin of his neck. Its master began to address the strange man before them.

“Who are you?”

“Nyx. Wh-where am I? Where’s my sister? Where have Niflehiem taken her and and my people to?! ” Nyx finally realises something is wrong when he notices he is all alone and begins his barrage of questions. Desperate for answers as he gets up from the dirt ground on shaky limbs. The soldiers around him keep their blades poised around him, alert and on guard.

His question stuns the Lucian group, as they pause to let his questions sink in. In their confusion, a strange and flamboyant man turns to look at another with a silver horned crown in his hair oddly. As if Nyx’s queries are illogical and unusual.

“Mister…Nyx…where do you hail from exactly?” The man drawls out curiously and slowly, as if afraid to spook the panicking galahdian even further.

“Galahd, of course! We are in the middle of a War, so tell me where are my people now!”

This earns him another weary pause from the Lucians which is really starting to grate on the Galahdian’s nerves. Each sharing a look with one another. Nyx is this close to taking out his kukri and get away but he soon realises he had nothing but his clothes and beads on him. Until he notices his kukri is in the hands of the guard with a stern mien and armed with an elegant katana drawing closer to his neck and drawing blood.

“Mister Ulric. I must say its either you have been dropped on your head by some strange power or you are delirious because you are on scared Lucian land known as Angelgard, and-” The dramatic man takes a breath, to ponder or deliberately on purpose, Nyx has no idea and his patience runs thin.

“And WHAT!?”

“Mister Nyx. Galahd has fallen and disappeared more than 150 years ago.”

Nyx stops breathing as a monstrous cry resounds from a distance and his head aches.His feet crumbles along with his heart at the mournful cry resounding into the night.

——

Nyx does not remember much other than fragments of memories.His tribe was attacked and his sister was missing.That is all he knows. The Lucians realising that they have a amnesiac man in their hands took sympathy and welcome Nyx into their fold. The King himself have kindly filled the shaking and confused Galahdian of the past 150 years as they leave Angelgard. Away from the approaching disaster. Literally.

Turns out Niflheim did try to conquer the Isles but for some reason, the entire Niflheim army had failed to return. Later, a creature had emerged from the Isles’. A Bismarck looking creature the size of a continent. In less than a fortnight, it had decimated Niflheim and all in its path. A monster neither good nor evil. It devours armies. It consumes the lands. It slaughters the Astrals. It is hungry, always hungry.

Nyx knows the monster from old grandmother stories as a child. A Calamity born from sorrow and grief. The people of Eos today call it Sin. A creature that is born from the result of the endless war that tore Eos apart.

Galahd never worshipped the Astrals. They never have and never will. The islanders had stuck to their own faith religiously. His people pray to the dead for guidance and wisdom instead.

With the Astrals gone, the Crystal is not enough to dispel the Starscourge. Now the world is forever doomed in an eternal night. Yet the Lucians and the Oracles are hoping that the rumoured ways of Galahd can shed light on how to stop the beast and the endless night. As the fallen King who was rudely awaken in his prison remembers, Galahdians have once guarded ways to create gods. Maybe they can create hope too.

Nyx unfortunately, does not remember any of his religious studies or the old ways. His head throbs if he tries. However, deep down his empty soul, his heart yearns to return to his homeland. The lost Galahdian chooses to follow the entourage of Lucian royals seeking for a solution, and together with them, to the ruins of Galahd. Maybe he can find his answers there.

To find reasons of why he had survived when his people had not.

——

Turns out the truth is darker than Nyx remembers. Little by little, as they make their way into the heart of the Galahd Ruins, fragments of his memories return. As they Fight their way past the fierce aeons of the land, guardians of Galahd’s secrets, and uncover the missing piece of history lost in time. There, in the ruined city, they are buried in the ground, bodies melded together into the earth by magic. Ancient symbols and arrays marks the tomb of Galahd in a funeral rite. A power dances with the light across the bodies in eternal unrest. Tendrils of magic keeps the human sacrificial pillars untouched and untainted. A ritual to defy death.

Nyx did die. Exactly 150 years ago. On this very land.

Galahd does not exist on Eos any more. Now nothing left but rubble and ruins and a dream. Its people massacred in the war. Her people choosing an undying death over servitude. In order to protect Galahd forever, they will dream and allow their dream to be an armor, a cocoon to protect the memory of their home. Sin is this very collective souls and their will. Not unlike the Ring of Lucii hosting the souls of past Kings of the Lucian bloodline.

Selena, who had dedicated her life as a priestess for the spirits, could not bear the grief and loss. In their final moments, Selena and the surviving Galahdians had fought back. They called upon the old magic of their blood, summoning the sorrow of the perished ones, all in a final attempt to change their fate.

She made whats left of her brother into her aeon, her guardian, to preserve the memory of him. Now he is a part of Sin. Its core.

Although now a part of Nyx’s spirit had woken up to a broken world instead. A World of Ruin. To the sounds of screams and the cries of his people. To the sobs of Selena. The souls of his kin singing sadly, their voices ringing in his ears endlessly.

This is no magic. It is a curse. One that his sister is crying for to end in a prison of their own making.

Or is it him? Nyx does not know.

——

A/N: Did I make Selena the final boss in this AU? Yes.

#ffxv au #ffxv #ffx crossover of sorts #nyx ulric #selena ulric #prompto argentum #Noctis Lucis Caelum #regis lucis caelum #ardyn lucis caelum #world of ruin?#sin

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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A Beach Day to Remember {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author’s notes: made it just under the wire for this week’s writer wednesday :) it’s a bit different from my usual writing MO, but I honestly had a blast with it and I’m decently pleased with how it turned out, actually. I wrote this late at night while I was half-asleep lol so sorry if it’s a little all over the place! thanks, as always, to @autumnleaves1991-blog for hosting & @clydesducktape for helping out! it’s such a great and fun weekly tradition!

warnings: fluff. humor. romance. beach fun. chair wrestling. a quick lil makeout session (nothing explicit).

no tw’s :)

word count: 2.2k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @safarigirlsp @babbushka

By some miracle, you’d convinced born-and-raised country boy Clyde Logan to accompany you to Miami Beach for a week. A whole week, you couldn’t believe it.

And...he actually bought a pair of swim trunks. Sure, they were a West Virginia Walmart buy, but hey, he bought a pair; you’ll take what you can get.

Who was this man and what has he done with Clyde Logan?

He’s never really been to the beach before, Mamma Logan didn’t like bein’ in the sun too long and Pappa wasn’t about to cross her, so this was his first time.

Your family used to vacation here every year, so you were relatively familiar with the notoriously rowdy town. The first evening and night consisted of you showing a wide-eyed Clyde around Miami’s bustling night life. But, when the sun came up the next morning, he was revving to get down to the beach.

You had to talk him down a bit there at first, convincing him to eat somethin’ for breakfast before spending a whole entire day in the sun ‘cause if he passes out, he’s on his own getting back to the condo.

“I’m gon’ go get changed fer the beach!” He says excitedly, clapping his hands together and doing a little jog over to the dresser the second you two get back from your sidewalk cafe breakfast.

You smile at his enthusiasm, trying to remember the last time you saw him so openly excited and smiley. After only a few moments of thought, you realize that you’ve never seen him quite like this before. But, you’re certainly taking a liking to vacation Clyde.

Both Mellie and Jimmy requested plenty of photos of, and this is a direct quote, “Clyde’s long, pasty-ass legs in swim shorts”, and you’re nothing if not accommodating...

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, you quickly say “Smile!” and snap a picture of him in his leaf-pattern hunter green trunks. He frowns, striding over to where you’re standing.

“Hey now pumpkin, who’re ya sendin’ that off to?”

You giggle, typing out his sibling’s contacts into your messages. “Nobody...”

His eyes widen when he sees Jimmy and Mellie’s names. He tries to grab the phone away from you, but as he takes it, his palm accidentally nudges the little ‘send’ icon.

“G’damnit! I fuckin’ sent it to ‘em!”

You’re cracking up as he frantically tries to somehow un-send the message, despite you trying to repeatedly convince him that there’s literally nothing that can be done at this point; the message is permanent.

Almost immediately, the replies begin to pile in and Clyde quickly puts a hand over his face as your phone chimes continuously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“‘m never gonna hear the end ‘a this when we get back home.” He groans. “Now they got that picture forever and they’re never gonna stop showin’ it...Oh ma god, they’re gonna put it in our weddin’ slideshow, a-and our future kids ‘re gonna see it, and it’s gonna be shown at ma funeral...”

You laugh, shaking your head as you put your hands on his bare, freckle-painted chest. “Hon, I really wouldn’t worry that much about it. It’ll all blow over in a little bit, I promise. Plus, I now have evidence that you actually came to the beach with me. I have a feeling our future kids won’t believe me when I tell them this story someday.”

Clyde starts laughing, running his hands down the curve of your body before landing on your hips. He pulls you in for a kiss, moving his lips gently against yours.

Your face scrunches when he starts licking into your mouth and the bitter taste of zinc overwhelms your taste buds.

“Mmmm, mmm, Clyde?”

He pulls away, brows furrowed.

“Did you put some zinc on your lips?”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away bashfully. “Oh, yeah, I did. ‘m sorry, I forgot ‘bout that.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I love you.”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead this time, rather than your lips.

“Love ya too, pumpkin.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clyde’s like a kid at a candy store when he gets down to the beach, quickly putting the cooler down on the sand and dropping his chair down next to it. The sunglasses sit just above the bridge of his zinc-whitened nose as his head moves around to drink in the sights unfolding before him.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him, setting your beach bag down with the cooler before beginning to set up your chair. But your man quickly jumps in and insists on unfolding the chair for you even though, as you’ll soon find out, he has zero idea how to operate a folding beach chair. To be fair, it was one of those older-fashioned ones that had sustained quite a bit of rust.

“Now, how in the world...?” He grumbles, trying to unfold the stubborn thing. He tries just about every method he could think up, at one point he was trying to use his flip-flop equipped foot to aid in the unfolding process, but he still cannot get the damn chair open.

Eventually, a curious (and very entertained) bystander comes over and helps the two of you out with your chairs, and both of you thank them profusely before finally beginning your day at the beach. Clyde remains standing, continuing to look around at all the things happening on the beach while you lay back and open your book to begin reading.

After a bit of sunning time, you and Clyde head down to the water. You keep your feet in the cool water while he stands further in, little waves crashing mid-calf. He finds a nice shell and runs up to put it back at your little setup while you stay and watch as the natural push and pull of the ocean slowly buries your feet in the sand.

Suddenly, a flesh arm comes on your back and a metallic arm scoops behind your knees, lifting you up as you squeal.

“Clydeeee!”

He laughs, rushing into the water while holding you bridal-style, water splashing up all over both you and him with each of his massive strides. As soon as he knows he’s deep enough, he starts swinging you back and forth.

“One...Two...”

You’re in a fit of laughter, playfully hitting his chest. “Noooooo! Stooopppp!”

“Three!” Clyde tosses you into the blue-green water of the Atlantic as you screech, a big splash accompanying your collision with the surface.

You emerge a moment later, quickly rushing up and jumping into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the water. He laughs when he resurfaces and splashes you in the face teasingly, to which you respond by doing the exact same thing.

“No more splashin’!” He says, chuckling to himself at the irony of his exclamation.

You laugh, splashing him one more time. “You’re the one that started it, you goof!”

“Now, let’s not play the blame game, pumpkin.” He smiles jokingly, then wraps his arms around your torso, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Both of you spend a bit more time in the water before heading back up to your chairs to dry off in the sun and re-apply sunscreen. Clyde ends up falling asleep, a few shells he found in the water spread out on the top of his thighs as he snoozes.

Only about fifteen minutes later, you look over and put a hand over your mouth to cover the giggles that come when you see that one of the shells has sprouted some legs in preparation for an escape attempt. The creature begins crawling and he starts squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation, clearly beginning to re-awaken from his early afternoon slumber.

When his eyes blink open and he looks down, he gasps, launching backwards in his chair. Unfortunately, the old-school beach chair already struggles to hold his massive form, so when he jumps back, the chair gives out and breaks clean in half, sending Clyde back into the sand.

The poor crab is thrust into the sand, but it’s alright, quickly crawling back towards the ocean. You immediately stand up, trying not to laugh too hard until you know he’s completely alright.

“Oh my fuck...Clyde! Are you okay, hon?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “’m alright, though I can’t say the same for this here chair, though.”

You giggle, helping him sit back up in the sand. When he’s fully sat up, he’s still smiling and laughing, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I owe the condo owners a new beach chair.”

A full, active day at the beach has you pretty fucking exhausted when you two finally head back up to the condo around four in the afternoon. You take a quick cat nap while Clyde showers, then you hop in and wash off the day’s sunscreen and sand.

While you’re in the shower, Clyde rifles through his duffle and pulls out a little velvet box, popping it open to expose the glittering diamond ring that sits on a little pillow. He smiles at the sight, knowing that tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask you to be his forever.

He’s been waiting for the right moment for a short while now, and after the fun y’all had at the beach today and the sunset beach walk he’s planning to take you on before your fancy dinner reservations later this evening...he can’t think of a more perfect time to do it.

You step out of the bathroom and Clyde scrambles to quickly tuck the ring box into his khaki pants pocket. He smooths his hands over the fabric before standing up, face breaking out into a wide smile when he sees the beautiful sundress you’ve got on.

“You’re so beautiful, pumpkin.” He says, smiling as he walks up to you, hands on your hips. “Always so, so beautiful.”

Your expression stretches into a bright, genuine smile as you get up on your tiptoes for a kiss. “Thank you, Clyde. You look awfully handsome yourself this evening.”

“Oh, well, thank ya, darlin’.” His cheeks grow red as he looks down for a moment, shoving his hands down in his pockets. “So, do ya wanna go on a sunset walk ‘fore our reservations?”

You agree, and the two of you head back down to the beach. His fingers fiddle with the little box in his pocket as you walk along the beach. Soon, you reach an old lifeguards stand, painted in brilliant mint green and flamingo pink colors. The ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ paint is still visible, even after some seeming wear and tear to the outside of the building.

The sun’s touching down on the horizon line as he guides you up onto the old structure’s small front deck, and you lean over the railing together as the sun sinks down.

Your head turns to look over at your beloved boyfriend, admiring the way the sherbet sky reflects off of and compliments his alabaster skin. God he’s beautiful, you think to yourself for what has to be the millionth time in your three years of dating Clyde. He’ll forever be the most beautiful man in your eyes.

He turns to you then, standing up with a shaky hand reaching out to take yours. “Uh, Y/N, there’s somethin’...somethin’ I wanna do ‘fore we head off to dinner.”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sure, hon. Are you alright, though? You’re shaking a bit.”

“’m alright, pumpkin.”

Clyde nods and then, he sinks down onto one knee, wobbling a bit as he adjusts to the new position. He steadies shortly after and then, he pulls the box out of his pocket and opens it up, exposing the ring he spent hours picking out for you.

You’re in shock, hands over your mouth as he smiles up at you, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-I knew when I first met ya that you were gon’ be the woman I wanted to s...spend the rest of ma life with. Y-Yer so funny ‘n kind ‘n so, so beautiful; yer just...yer perfect, p-pumpkin.”

You feel the tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes as he continues, tears now running down his cheeks as well.

“I love y-ya more than life itself, Y/N, an’ I...I wanna spend the rest of ma livin’ days on this planet by yer side. Will ya...will ya marry me?”

Time seems to stand still for Clyde, then, his nerves overwhelming and overtaking his entire being. The seconds between his final word and your response are some of the longest and most anxious seconds of his life, but damnit, they were well worth it.

“Yes, Clyde, yes. O-Of course I’ll marry you.” You say, smiling as he stands to pull you in for a passionate kiss.

He’s overjoyed, really, heart racing but in the best possible way. You said yes. You’re gonna be his wife, his Mrs. Logan.

“God, I love ya.” Clyde whispers against your lips, pulling the ring from its place on the delicate pillow. “I love ya so, so much, Y/N.”

“I love you t-too, Clyde.” You smile, holding your left hand out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you immediately pull him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to marry you, hon, can’t wait to become Mrs. Logan.”

He grins widely, pressing another few kisses onto your lips.

“Mrs. Y/N Logan, ma beautiful wife, ma forever partner.”

You nod, sniffling softly.

“Your forever partner.”

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

Never gonna happen

(Looking at the art deity @cacodaemonia ‘s work for inspiration to help me through the next chapter of Time To Say Goodbye and I couldn’t stop giggling at this one. And suddenly this one-shot was written. Poor Mose xD )

The bar is crowded with souls from every corner of the Galaxy and none which one should be turning one’s back on. In the corner of the room, Mose tips the food on his plate into his big mouth while Zev’sonya leans back in her chair and takes a big swallow from her glass of hard liquor.

They are between work, and also between crews as the previous one made the mistake of heavily hinting to her how many credits they could get by visiting one of the blood farms with Mose.

So, yeah, Zev’sonya is in a foul mood and of course that means some moron has to appear and try his luck charming her.

Her initial reaction and instinct is to tell the idiot to go away before she cuts him, but one glance at his face makes her change her mind. Instead of scowling, she puts on a smile. Instead of threats, Zev’sonya nods for him to take the seat next to her.

Mose chews and watches them with a slight frown.

The idiot introduces himself as Dannian or something. He offers to buy her a drink while he does a poor job at trying to map her body with his eyes and hating her layers of clothing for making it difficult. Zev’sonya keeps her smile on and pretends not to notice.

And soon she accepts the offer from this Durian-guy to travel back to his planet with him as his guest, on the one condition that her friend got to come along as well.

While Durian-guy tries to act like he’s perfectly fine with having a Hutt join them, Zev’sonya gives her sweet smile to Mose, who returns it with a faint narrowing of his eyes in a silent question.

Zev’sonya takes the hand Durian-guy offers her and lets him help her to her feet before looking back at Mose again, still smiling. “You coming?”

Sighing, Mose puts his plate down. “Yeah, yeah…”

She knew he would. He always does. He’s the one soul she can trust.

On the ship, Mose stays in the back, in the shadows, while Zev’sonya allows the Durian-guy to cozy up to her. She giggles at the lame jokes he delivers and swoons at the lies he serves her.

The planet they land on is quite beautiful with sleek, golden buildings and a warm, red sky. The air smells like sugar. They walk to an impossibly tall tower where servants scramble to obey Durian-guy’s every whim, just like he said they would and Zev’sonya knew they would.

Mose keeps quiet and remains in the background, but he follows.

Though, unease flutters across his face later, when Zev’sonya appears in a slinky dress that had been brought to her room for her to wear to tonight’s big dinner in the tower. He’s clearly worried she’s lost her mind.

Zev’sona gives Mose another sweet smile and lets Durian-guy place his hand on her bare back as he guides her over to the seat next to him. Mose shakes his head and eats.

It’s in the middle of the night when the door to Mose’s room slides open and Zev’sonya sneaks inside. “Mose…” She whispers.

Mose frowns without opening his eyes or getting up from where he’s sleeping on the floor. “What?”

“We have to leave.” Zev’sonya continues, keeping her voice down so no one else will hear her. “Now.”

Mose opens his eyes and stares directly at her. “What did you do?” His voice is an odd mix of resignation and wariness, but he doesn’t sound surprised. At all. Like he was expecting this.

Zev’sonya can’t help it, she grins, too pleased with herself not to. “Relax. He’s fine. I didn’t put a finger on him.”

“What,” Mose gets up and sighs, “did you do, Lorda?”

“You didn’t recognize him, huh?” Zev’sonya says as they leave the room. “Well, I did. I saw that guy’s face on a propaganda bulletin thing last month. Durian is a prince on this planet and a huge player in the slave trade.”

They pause in the shadows as two guards walk by before Zev’sonya gestures for Mose to follow, which he does, and they actually manage to sneak out of the building undetected.

“I just thought him having so many credits from his business deals, he wouldn’t mind sharing them with us.” Zev’sonya states gleefully, feeling the weight of all the jewellery and other valuables in her countless pockets. “He was only too happy to show me where he kept all his treasures. Not exactly humble or smart.”

“A prince, Lorda.” Mose growls. “You decided to rob a prince. On his home planet. Without an escape ship or a back-up crew.”

Zev’sonya makes a face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“We talked about this.” Mose sighs, shuffling along after her as she scouts for a ship to steal.

“You need to learn to get a little more fun out of life, pateesa.” Zev’sonya grins, then lights up as she sees a small and fast ship that is perfect for them. “Ah hah. That one.”

“What I need is to sleep through a night without having to flee for my life…” Mose mutters.

Snorting a laugh, Zev’sonya slices the computer lock on the ship’s door and it slides open to let them in. “You want a straw? I mean, since you’re set on sucking the fun out of things?”

“No, I just want to get off this planet before they start shooting at us.”

Zev’sonya gets into the pilot seat and starts awakening the ship from its slumber. It’s fairly easy and soon they are heading towards the safety of space. She glances back into the passenger seating area outside the cockpit door and grins at Mose. “See? You worry too much.”

Mose huffs, unimpressed, and merely tries to get his big bulk comfortable between the narrow path between the row of seats at opposite sides of him. Few ships are designed for a Hutt body and this small craft is clearly not.

Zev’sonya is about to reassure him that they’ll land and sell the ship and get a better one as soon as possible when a beeping sound draws her attention. She turns forward again and the smile on her face fades when she sees the multiple dots on the radar following them. “Oh.”

Mose stops fidgeting and stares at her. “What?”

Zev’sonya clears her throat. “I think he found out.”

“Here we go…” Mose sighs. “Are we in trouble?”

Frowning, Zev’sonya flips some switches and pushes some buttons, pushing the engine to the limit to reach top speed. It helps, but not for long. The dots on the radars increase their speed as well and soon they even start catching up. “I wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘trouble’…”

“What word would you use?” Mose demands.

“Uhm…” Zev’sonya glances to the left when a warning shot is fired by the ship. “That things might get a little… interesting?”

Mose mutters something rude in Huttese.

A second shot comes dangerously close to the ship and Zev’sonya snarls angrily. They want to punish her for stealing stuff Durian-guy can afford losing three times over? Fine. But they do NOT get to shoot down Mose for her idiocy. She gets up and runs out of the cockpit, running across the seats to get by Mose to reach the narrow, circular opening in the floor that will lead her to the ship’s weapons. “Take over the controls. Keep up the speed and be ready to dodge. I’ll get on our guns.”

“What do you-No, wait, get back here! I can’t…” Mose blurts out as she goes by, but then the ship shakes as a third shot clearly comes too close for comfort.

“Do it!” Zev’sonya shouts as she climbs down the ladder and then rushes over to activate the weapons.

There are about seven or eight ships pursuing them and it is quite satisfying seeing them scatter like startled birds when she starts firing at them.

Mose is a skilled pilot, just rarely fits into a cockpit, so he keeps them going while Zev’sonya convinces the ones following them it would be wise to simply let them go. It takes quite a bit of persuading, whatever Durian-guy is paying them must be a lot, but eventually they decide they’ve chased them far enough and the risk isn’t worth it, so they turn and head back to the planet far away in the distance.

Cackling satisfied, Zev’sonya climbs back up the ladder. “We’re good.”

“You’re sure?” Mose asks, his upper torso in the cockpit as he has his hands on the controls while the rest of him is still in the passenger area.

“I’m sure.” Zev’sonya says, hopping up on the chairs to make her way towards the cockpit without stepping on his tail. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Mose replies, then sighs and slumps a little. “Because I’m stuck.”

“Really?” Zev’sonya blinks, surprised, then steps off the chairs and on to his back, ignoring his soft grunt of annoyance, gingerly walking up to where she crouches down and can see the door frame is digging into his sides.

“Really.” Mose grumbles.

Caught between feeling guilty and the urge to laugh, Zev’sonya clears her throat and heads back into the ship again. “I’ll go see if we got some grease.”

She finds some by a panel where somebody had been doing repairs or maintenance.

It takes a bit of time and effort, plus all of her might pulling on his arm, but finally Mose, after one careful inch after another, finally slides free with a loud schlurp. He exhales with relief and lets go of Zev’sonya’s hand so she falls on her back with a startled squawk.

Laughing up at the ceiling, not begrudging him a little payback, Zev’sonya revels in her smugness at their success. “I told you; you worry too much.”

Watching her, Mose shakes his head a little. “I feel so bad for the one who ends up marrying you, Lorda.”

Sitting up with a heartfelt scoff, Zev’sonya speaks with utter certainty: “That, pateesa, is never going to happen.”

There is absolutely zero chance of her agreeing to something so stupid. That kind of love isn’t real, the only one she will ever trust is Mose and marriage is for naive idiots.

Not going to happen.

Never.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Zev'sonya #Mose the Hutt #Mose has the patience of a saint #and Zev has impulse control issues #foreshadowing #someone PLEASE take the internet away from me

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Crown For Two {2}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Previous Chapters: {1} |

Chapter Two

You were running around in a whiteout snowstorm. There was no way to see in front or back of you. Your hands were your eyes, and even they were doing a pretty lousy job. A strong gust of find flew you to the right, then to the left before it hurled you forward. It sent you so hard to the ground your entire body shook from the fall. It was the most challenging feat to get back to your feet, and when you did, another gust of wind sent you into a pole.

As you gripped it, you held on for dear life and prayed that somehow you’d made it through this. As you held on, you recognized that none of this felt real. It felt strange. The pain you were in was real, beginning with the throbbing in your head, the burning of your muscles throughout your body, and even the tightness all through your entire being.

When your hands gave out, you began falling to the snow-covered ground. Before you made contact with the ground, a pair of strong arms caught you and pulled you into their body. As soon as they did, you felt like the storm around you disappeared. The howling wind slowed, the blinding snow stilled, and the bone-chilling cold turned to instant warmth. Once you’d adjusted, you looked up; your eyes trailed over a strong, defined jawline, smooth skin, and piercing blue eyes.

You recognized this man. Although you were watching his lips move, you didn’t hear anything. No words, only the sound of white noise. Your fingers touched his lips, then slowly traced his cheek and down his jaw, but you felt as if you weren’t touching anything at all. That was when his voice came into focus.

“I will protect you. I will keep you safe.”

He looked as if he meant it, looked like no matter what, come what may, he would keep his word. Suddenly a strong blast of wind began pulling you from him, but he held on tightly to you. Even when the wind picked up, he wouldn’t let go. Thanks to the heavily falling snow that fell over your clasped hands, after a few moments, you felt your grip slipping. Panic filled you but looking at him; he looked as calm as ever.

“I will always find you.”

With that, the wind took you away, pulling you into a dark abyss. That was when you screamed, jumping up while flailing your arms and legs. It took almost a minute to realize your surroundings were no longer snowed out and dark. Slowly you calmed yourself, then dropped back onto the bed. Once you’d caught your breath, the sight above you had your eyes bugging. With your arms pressed to the bed on either side of you, your jaw dropped.

Above you was a white ceiling with embossed and engraved drawings etched into it with an enormous golden chandelier dangling in the center. You nudged your head back slightly to take in the golden decorative border that ran around the canopy of the bed. That was when the headboard caught your eyes. Cream tuffets that were embellished with gold-framed the Brocard design of the cream and deep turquoise headboard. Slowly you sat up, and the intricacies of the posts of the bed came into view. It looked like someone had hand-carved and painted the golden designs onto it. You wondered how long it had taken and just how much this cost.

The more your eyes took in as you scanned the room, the wider they got. Turquois, cream, and gold seemed to be the theme of the room, and it was all done so exquisitely well that you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty around you.

“Oh my god.”

Looking to your right, you examined the comfortable looking settee and the large vase and the decorative plant and flower mixture it held.

“Where the hell am I?”

There was no way this was the inn. The last you remembered, there was nothing but wood there. You slid to the edge of the extra-large king-sized bed and placed your feet on what you expected to be cold marble, but it was warm. Heated floors, you thought to yourself.

You stood, but sudden dizziness had you dropping right back to the bed, clutching your head.

“Ouch!’

Feeling pain, your alarms went off. You didn’t know what had happened, where you were, or why you were in pain. You could hear footsteps approaching the door, and your panic rose exponentially. You quickly scanned the room looking for anything you could use as a weapon, worried you were held in some creepy eastern European rich man who wanted you to participate in round four of the human centipede experiment.

Seeing nothing in your nearby vicinity, you zeroed in on a large vase across the room on a cream and gold dresser. Gathering whatever strength you had, you staggered toward the dresser, damn near crashing into it. As you gripped the edge of the dresser, hoping to stabilize yourself, it was then you realized that what you wore was not yours. It was some dainty nightgown that looked like it could have belonged to Mari Antoinette.

The footsteps got louder, and you grabbed the vase. It was a lot heavier than you’d anticipated, and you had to half sit on the dresser even to hold it. As soon as the door opened, there stood a middle-aged woman in a blue skirt suit with a white scarf around her neck that was tied in the posh way the rich usually did them. Not giving her an opportunity to make a move, you flung the vase at her with all your might. As it collided with a chair not too far from you, it shattered with such loudness it started you and the middle-aged woman.

“Dear me!”

With that, she slammed the French doors shut. You heard her heeled footsteps scurrying away. Though you didn’t feel any stronger, you decided not to wait around for someone else to come back. You staggered across the room to the doors that were just slammed, making sure to avoid the shattered pottery on the floor. You hadn’t missed all the pieces because you felt the sharp stab of a shard enter your foot bottom.

“Fuck!”

You hopped, then collided with the door. Your dizziness returning tenfold. Taking a few seconds for the room to stop spinning, you then bent to access your foot. Being on one only made your balance worse. You quickly pulled the shard from your foot and ignored the gush of blood that came from the wound. It would take hours for any bleeding from the foot to be life-threatening. You needed to get the hell out of there.

Flinging open the French doors, you walked out into an opulent sitting area with several dark blue and white chairs decorated around the room and a roaring fire against a wall.

“What the fuck!”

Ignoring the equally beautiful room as the one you’d just left, you staggered toward the door of that room. Once you flung that open, you entered into a large hallway with a long corridor. The walls were impressively decorated with plenty of photographs and paintings, and the ceiling above you had more of that embossed and engraved design. It was then you continued walking at a much faster pace. You could have been going toward danger for all you knew.

“Ma’am!”

You looked behind you and saw the same woman from before, but now she had two men that were dressed in suits, and the three of them were dashing toward you. In true survival of the fittest instincts, you took off running as well. If someone was chasing you, you ran. You didn’t stand there or ask questions, especially as a black woman. Turning the corner, you continued to run on shaky legs and with blurry vision without knowing where you were going. Glancing back, the three were still chasing you and shouting for you to stop, but you didn’t.

When you turned around, you ran smack dab into someone carrying a trey. As you collided with them, the trey went one direction and the individual another, still you didn’t stop. Thanks to the collision, your dizziness had returned, slowing your steps, making them sloppy, shakier, and zig-zagged. You knew you were seconds from blacking out, but you pushed yourself more.

“Stop, miss, stop!”

Everything sounded muffled. Suddenly you heard a louder sound break through the muffled and mumbles mess. You looked back, and the three pursuers had stopped. When you turned back, you ran into a hard body, but you didn’t fall. They held you firmly. You peered into familiar eyes, eyes that were filled with concern and alarm. His mouth was moving, but you heard no words. With his eyes seared into your memory, you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

-Henry-

Every five minutes or so, his phone rang or sent off a notification. Every five or so minutes, he pressed silent on every one of them. This has been going on for the last two hours. He’d sat in the sitting area first as the doctors accessed her and tended to her wound. For that hour, he was able to do some work. Though his mind was somewhat occupied, he had to put on the façade, he was his usual self.

After the first hour, he’d moved to the bedroom suite to sit beside the bed. The doctor reported that you were suffering from delirium, a common diagnosis for someone who’d suffered a concussion. His orders were for as much rest as possible in a low-stress environment. When Dr. Alfonzi emphasized a low stressful environment, he’d wanted to roll his eyes. What was more stress-free than where you were right now?

Now alone having answered over fifty emails and messages, he’d found himself with a sliver of downtime. Heaven knew how long that would last. His eyes drifted to your still form in the bed. You were securely tucked underneath the covers. You looked peaceful as if you hadn’t been through possibly the most harrowing experience of your life. The only outward evidence of that experience was a patch on your forehead that concealed the nasty gash he knew was there.

Slowly he scanned your face, taking in your beautiful and exotic features. The shape of your eyes, the flare of your nose, how well defined your lips were, and how supple your skin appeared to be. His fingers itched to touch your cheek again as he had in the bar. At the thought of the bar, your first meeting, he drifted back to the memories and fondly smiled, remembering your friendly banter, the ease of the conversation, and all the relaxation he felt with you. It was rare for him to even begin to let his guard down to let anyone in, but with you, for those two or three hours, he was tempted to as he’d never been before. he even told you a few things he wouldn’t have told anyone else.

Sighing, he pulled his eyes away, but his head quickly went to the debacle in the halls of the palace. He hadn’t expected to see you when he turned the corner, but he wasn’t disappointed. To be truthful, he’d thought about you on and off during all his morning meetings. The plan was if he had time in the evening, he’d check on you. When you passed out into his arms, the nightgown you wore captured his attention. He would have questioned who the hell put you in it, but the sight of peeks of your skin underneath the flimsy material held his attention instead.

As he carried you back to your room, he had to work extra hard not to look down and skim your body or the darkened areolas he’d glimpsed. When he slipped you back into the bed before the help placed the covers over you, he saw a peek of your backside that sent his hips thrusting forward quickly. The memory of it had him changing his position in the settee before getting up altogether to pace your room. He’d chosen it without giving it much thought. It was the first one he found. Now he felt you probably could do with a different one.

Your moans startled him, bringing him out of his thoughts. As he approached the bed, you turned your head from side to side as your moans became more and more audible. It didn’t take long for him to wonder if your carnal moans sounded like this or if they were different. He shook his head while mentally chastising himself for the thoughts, then focused back on you.

When your eyes opened, he did his best not to appear intimidating. It was a common comment among the feedback that was sporadically collected from the citizens. Your eyes focused on him after quickly scanning your surroundings. When you realized he was there, you quickly shot up and hurried back to the headboard. He noticed the covers remained across your lap, leaving your upper half exposed to his eager eyes. Groaning, he closed his eyes.

“Calm down,” he said as he motioned to the covers.

He waited a few moments, hoping you’d understood what he meant. When he opened his eyes, you held the covers over your chest but also held the lamp that was on the bedside table in your left hand. Raising his hands into the air, he took a step back.

“Let us not do something brash, Y/N.”

Confusion flickered across your features, and for a split second, you lowered the lamp but rose it again.

“How do you know my name?”

Raising his eyebrows, he thought of how to breach the topic. “We met in the bar. Do you remember?”

You scrunched your face, looking away to your right. He wondered if you were also suffering from memory loss.

“You sat beside me and arrogantly tried the Mistletoe Bomb that you could not even finish and had me finish it instead.”

“It was disgusting. Wait, I do remember.”

He nodded but kept his hands in the air, hoping the action gave you peace of mind.

“Good. What else do you remember?”

You bit your bottom lip then stared at the sheets on the bed. You remained silent for about a minute, then you spoke.

“We—talked. Then—we almost—did we--,” you stuttered then shook your head. “Then I left. It was cold, a lot colder, and the snow was heavy. I could barely see, it was next to impossible, and the wind it took me everywhere. Then—I don’t—I don’t know.”

You looked at him again with even more confusion in your eyes then before.

“Yes,” he began before he cleared his throat. “I am afraid the wind must have blown you into the street right before my car came along. It seems we accidentally hit you.”

You looked as if you were trying to remember, but you sighed and lowered the lamp to the bed rather than back to the side table.

“I am awfully sorry, Y/N. My driver did not see you until it was too late. He swerved, but we still collided with you due to the drift over the snow. When I got to you, you were unconscious, so I brought you here to receive medical care.”

Your eyes shot up to him then.

“Medical care? Am I in the hospital? This doesn’t look like any hospital I’ve ever been in.”

He cleared his throat, lowered his hands, then rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that bringing you here would make it next to impossible to keep the truth of his full identity hidden.

“That is because you are not in the hospital.”

“Then—where am I? have you dragged me somewhere and locked me up for your sick perverse pleasure?” As you said the words, you rose the lamp again, ready to throw it at him.

Again, he rose his hands. He knew you didn’t know that the lamp wouldn’t do anything if he really were a threat.

“Perverse pleasure? Are you implying that I would find pleasure in you?” He leaned against one of the posts as he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and kissed your teeth.

“Of course you would. I know I’m a dime piece.”

Understanding the terminology, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I agree.”

You didn’t speak right away, you stared at him, and he wanted to know what you were thinking so badly. This was the third time he’d seen this look, and it ticked at his curiosity to know you more. He cleared his throat and straightened himself.

“I assure you, I have not whisked you off to hold you captive for any pleasure than your health and safety.”

You took him in for a few moments but kept the lamp raised.

“Where am I?”

“My home.”

Your eyebrows rose as you looked around the room. No doubt, taking in all the luxury around the room. He knew the question was coming.

“Home? What kind of—where the hell--,” you began before you were interrupted by a knock at the door.

He sighed, then spoke. “A moment, please. Come.”

“Your highness,” Audrina began as she gave a brief curtsy. “The physician brought the medication for the patient.”

She approached, holding a tray that held a lone bottle. Once she was close, he took the bottle, thanking her.

“Hold the fuck up.”

Audrina paused with her eyes wide open, taking you in. Pinching his lips, he tried to stifle the laugh that was ready to escape.

“Good word, such language.”

Snorting, he released a chuckle.

“Me? You just said, highness. What is that? Why did she call you that?”

You gasped loudly with your eyes the size of saucers. “Oh my god. Are you—are you--.”

“That is all, Audrina, thank you.”

She nodded, gave another curtsy, and walked from the room. Once the doors were closed, he approached the bed slowly and cautiously. He didn’t want a lamp to the face.

“I was not entirely forthcoming with you the night in the bar,” he began.

“You lied about who you are?”

“No, not completely. My name is Henry. I evaded telling you what I did for a living. Goodness, I guess I will just come out with it then. I am Henry, but I am also—Prince of Brexendor.”

Your face was stuck in a mixture of shock and horror. Now more than ever, he wanted to know what you were thinking. A minute ticked by, then two, and each minute that passed, your expression became more and more pronounced.

“A—you’re a—p-prince?”

There was another knock at the door to increase his frustrations. He didn’t respond right away, he watched you, waiting for you to speak, but another knock came before your words did.

“Your highness?”

He sighed then told them to enter; in walked Dr. Alfonzi . He bowed, then approached the bed.

“How is our patient?”

Their eyes trained on you, but you didn’t speak. Dr. Alfonzi looked at him, unsure of what to say.

“Your highness, unfortunately, I am going to have to ask you to step out so I can talk with the patient.”

He nodded. “Of course. Will it be all right if I came by in an hour or two?”

You didn’t respond for quite a while, but you slowly nodded as he began to turn. Dr. Alfonzi bowed again as he passed him and walked out of the room. Once he entered the sitting area, McArthur stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness, is the lady well?”

“We go. We have to make it across town to the magistrate,” he said instead of answering his question.

Once he was in the car, he went over the documents in prep for the meeting he knew would take everything out of him. Every time he encountered Prime Minister Lancaster, the exchange always left him agitated and in need of a drink and solitude. There was something about the man that went past his defiance and terseness that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Your highness. I hope you extended my apologies to the lady for hitting her with the car,” McArthur inquired.

“Does it matter? When you saw us in the bar, you made it clear you thought I should not have allowed her to stay. Had a change of heart?”

“As your driver, protector, and friend, I was simply looking out for your best interest, sir. Outsiders have proven themselves as untrustworthy in the past.”

He nodded as he remembered the incident he was referring to, then cleared his throat. “I did not get to apologize for you, but I made sure she understood it was an accident.”

He stared out the window at the falling snow and his country. That still didn’t feel natural to say. Yes, it was his country of birth, but everyone wanted him to now look at it as belonging to him. he wasn’t ready yet. It still felt too soon. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize when McArthur pulled up to the Magistrate buildings. After taking a few deep breaths in an effort to steel himself, he walked out, ready for yet another contentious meeting.

As he passed his constituents, they bowed or curtsied, showing their respect for the crown and him. He nodded his head to each of them, an equal show of respect. A monarchy was nothing without the people it governs. It was the first lesson his father had taught him.

“Your Highness,” Prime Minster Lancaster addressed once he was a few steps away.

He watched the older man bow deeply. When Lancaster rose, he saluted him as the respected soldier he was, as well as Crown Prince. He took the man before him in not in any rush to give him the approval to lower his salute. Sometimes he liked to remind the man he was in charge and not the other way around.

“At ease, Prime Minister.”

Lancaster clenched his jaw and stood to his side, granting him access to the conference room. He listened to the quiet council of Alton, his royal advisor, as he gave notes about the meeting as everyone filed into the room. Once they stood before their seats, waiting for him to sit first, he did just that. Finally seated, he banged the gavel against its golden holder.

“Let us begin,” he said, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

This time of year, the many plans and discussions involved Christmas and the year’s many festivities. When it came to talking about those festivities, money was always brought up. He was all about keeping traditions alive because Brexendor was made of traditions, but he also believed that it had to seek to advance itself in order for the country to survive another turn of the times.

Brexendor was considered a very wealthy place, and there had been many who had tried to usurp its wealth, thinking it was a weak country only to find out that Brexendor was not only wealthy but powerful and strong with one of the best defense systems. He’d spent years in the armed forces learning all the ins and outs of said defenses, all in prep for the day he would take the throne.

Every time he brought up plans to modernize Brexendor, Prime Minister Lancaster always objected, citing that changing now would wash away the countries rich history. When he made this argument, he always appealed to the many elders who held other important magistrate seats. Once that happened, he knew his argument would fall on deaf ears, and with the instability that was already present in the monarchy, he couldn’t risk shaking their faith in him. Not right now.

After discussing other matters that were essential to Brexendor’s flourishment, the meeting came to an end. When he got into the car, the glance at his watch told him as expected; it was a meeting that took up the majority of his evening. He had to figure out a way to bring the other magistrate members to his side in order to get things done. Lancaster was old. He had no idea what it would take to keep Brexendor a superpower as the world changed with even more modernization. He knew he was right.

By the time he got back to the palace, it was almost ten o’clock. He’d missed dinner, but that wasn’t what he cared about. He dismissed his immediate staff, assuring them he could tend to himself for the evening, and proceeded to his room. Before he took too many steps, he stopped knowing that his room was in the opposite direction from yours. Glancing at his watch again, he tried to decide if it was a good idea to visit you at this time. He knew the palace had eyes, and he knew he would be noticed going into your suites at this hour. Not wanting to set tongues wagging, he sighed and proceeded to his room.

Tomorrow was another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 4 years

Note

I’ve been wondering, how do you become a vampire in the DL universe? Do you have to like drink their blood, I saw somewhere that if a human stays around a vampire too long they become one (like humans become ghouls in the demon world?) but how long does that take.

Hi anon, Rejet really isn’t consistent with their lore, like at all, but here’s what I know:

I think the best explanation for the process of a human becoming a vampire is in Shu’s HDB ending 2. In that ending, Reiji stabs Yui but as her heart is still beating, Shu is able to revive her as a vampire by giving her his blood (although admittedly she ends up partially paralyzed and mostly blind due to being injured before she became a vampire). While ingesting Shu’s blood was the trigger, Yui tells us that she was able to become a vampire because she’d had her blood repeatedly sucked by Shu (and the phrasing heavily implies if not outright states that it’s also because she had sex with him).

However, Yui also becomes a vampire in Laito’s Ending 1, without needing to drink his blood to trigger the process, although, she does get his blood on her lips in the Dark 4 chapter (so I guess she did drink it at one point?). It’s also worth mentioning that in this chapter, Laito mockingly asks her if she thinks she’ll become a vampire just from consuming his blood (thus implying that consuming a vampire’s blood alone isn’t enough), so this does confirm that for HDB at least, a human must have prolonged contact with a vampire in order to turn into one (and this comes up later in Laito’s route too).

From this, I’d surmise that, yes, a human becomes a vampire through repeatedly having their blood sucked, and that although this is a gradual process, it can potentially be sped up via ingesting the vampire’s blood (as from Laito’s route, it doesn’t sound like this is important but I don’t think Shu’s ending 2 should be ignored either).

As for a timescale, I’m afraid the DL games are frustratingly vague. I did a bit of digging but the only thing I could find was Yui mentioning Laito’s Dark 9 chapter that just months ago, she’d been at the church with her father. Now this isn’t the best indicator but from this and the structure of the routes, I’d guess it takes a couple of months for a human to fully awaken as a vampire (although this could depend on their level of exposure to vampires). If anyone knows of anything more conclusive than this then please let me know!

One really odd point that I think I should at least mention is that in Laito’s HDB Maniac Epilogue, he says that the day Yui will awaken as a vampire is drawing near but he doesn’t know what form she’ll take as vampires aren’t the only species that are active at night. I’ll be honest, I have absolutely no idea what he’s getting at here. I know in his Ending 2 it’s revealed that some of the previous brides have become his familiars, so maybe that’s what he means (I sincerely doubt he’s referring to the other demon clans given that they hadn’t been introduced at this point and it would also make zero sense). Regardless of his meaning, this never comes up again and I have no idea why Rejet included it in the first place

I’m not sure whether the rules changed for More Blood, as I really don’t like to think about Karl repeatedly having to drink the blood of the Mukami brothers for them to become vampires. That being said, this is Karlheinz we’re talking about so maybe the normal rules don’t apply to him and he was able to turn the Mukami bros through magic and/or simple ingestion of vampire blood.

I can say with confidence that in DF, the whole Yui being able to awaken as a vampire thing got retconned, and that in the later games, Yui cannot become a vampire because of her heart belonging to a founder (this is mentioned in Laito’s DF Maniac Epilogue, as he says that normally humans become a vampire after having their blood-sucked, as is canon in HDB, but for some reason Yui hasn’t awakened as a vampire even though she should have done by now).

Sorry this got so long but I hope it answers your question anon!

#dl lore #long post #hdb spoilers #reply #I could probably have done more research for this but I'm tired and I have a lot of irl stuff to do so hopefully this is enough #hope you're all doing okay!#I tried to proofread but it's well past 2am so I'm just going to post this

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

Text

thermodynamic equilibrium

there’s a fucking mouthful for ya. Fire and Ice (subscorp)... sorta hurt/comfort but in a gruff old guy ninja way??? idk I love these fuckers. Unedited and like, I didn’t bother messing with italics because I am, as you may have gathered, painfully lazy. Sequel to Heart and Fire.

Broken Timeline

The furs-covered bed, broad and expansive, was plenty of room and then some for the Grandmaster. The “and then some” was occupied by his recently-returned lover, Hanzo Hasashi. Kuai Liang slept peacefully next to him, one arm tucked under Scorpion’s neck, with the man’s face pressed close into his chest, hands curled up somewhere between them, protective. Their bodies sprawled next to each other, entangled from earlier exertions and, since neither had been willing to part, there they stayed, chill against hot, pale against nut brown. We are truly balanced, then, aren’t we? Sub-Zero’s dreams drifted in and out of the sensible, as dreams did, leading him down the paths of old memory and then into uncharted fog, the future, perhaps. It was only when his dreams began to prickle and scorch that he stirred.

Hanzo did not stir. He lay motionless, making nary a sound. His body, however, was heating up at an alarming rate, rather like a fever. Sub-Zero awakened to the touch of scalding flesh upon him. He breathed deeply, seeking the cool, quiet spot, deep in his spirit, the place whence his ice would be summoned. They had done this before, many times, during Scorpion’s recovery. Takeda had graciously agreed to continue his post as interim Grandmaster of the Shirai-Ryu while Hanzo made the arduous trek back to true, thriving life. It was Kuai Liang’s pleasure to be the catalyst for this, despite Scorpion’s vehement protests.

Carefully, he wrapped his chilling arms tighter about the other man’s compact frame. Scorpion was tense, coiled like a spring, and the heat was becoming unbearable. Once more, Sub-Zero took a breath of cool night air, warmed by the braziers which burned low in his chambers, slowed by curtains and furs, but otherwise pure and unhindered. Hanzo pushed away from the grip instinctively, some part of him recognizing potential danger—either via memory or training. Kuai Liang redoubled his efforts and slowly began speaking to his friend. At first, he said little other than “you are safe” and “it is not real—whatever you are seeing is a dream”, which soon evolved into gentle declarations of adoration, protection, and deep, abiding affection.

By the time icy kisses began raining over Scorpion’s face, the man was awake and breathing hard, no longer fighting against Sub-Zero’s arms but pulling himself closer, clinging to the man like a life raft. His heart hammered violently in the confines of his broad chest and he was sweating hard, the droplets beginning to vaporize in the heat that his own body was producing. The shivering started soon after as Kuai Liang’s grip began to chill him to the very center and he finally, finally relaxed.

“That was interminable,” he growled irritably, nestling closer to Sub-Zero with a shudder he could not hold back. Still their limbs were entangled and so they stayed even as he shifted. “I do not know how much longer I can stand these… spells.”

“You have suffered great trauma, Hanzo, and loss,” Kuai Liang reminded him, reaching down to pull more furs up and over the two of them. He considered removing himself from the equation and sleeping atop them, holding Scorpion through their warmth, but it was clear from the way the Shirai-Ryu Grandmaster was laying that he did not want him to go anywhere.

“I have suffered these things before,” snarled Scorpion.

“And you slept alone, then, struggling through it on your own.”

“I did not sleep.”

“Even worse, my Fire. You must recover yourself; your clan needs you, but they do not need one who refuses to do that properly.”

Scorpion stiffened. Sub-Zero knew just how to speak, what to say, and when, to slide deftly under the fiery ninja’s skin and prick him deep and thoroughly. He was right, of course. Long years as Grandmaster had taught Kuai Liang much, but he had learned even more growing up in the chilly ranks of the Lin Kuei, battling not only external foes, but internal in the form of his resentful brother, Bi-Han, and others who hardly deemed him worthy of the name Tundra, much less Sub-Zero.

My love has proven them wrong, he reminded himself, so many times over, I cannot count. It will do so again. He held Scorpion gently now, shifting back to peer into those white, inscrutable, wraith’s eyes. He missed the gentle, doe brown of Hanzo’s—the color that was wholly his and no one else’s. It was flecked with gold and glowed with inner fire Sub-Zero could not begin to describe, only to appreciate in gestures bordering on the worshipful.

Kuai Liang was content to rest in the silence, but he did not close his eyes, opting instead to continue watching Scorpion’s face. The man’s features were so refined and sharp that every twitch of a muscle seemed to change his whole countenance. Perhaps it was long years of knowing the man without his mask, but Sub-Zero thought his features were beautifully sculpted to tell any viewer with half a mind precisely what he was thinking.

Many seemed to miss these cues and ended up on the wrong side of Hanzo Hasashi’s hellfire temper. Even Kuai Liang himself had felt the heat, more than once, but rarely without purpose and always to good ends. He recalled their first serious conflict with relish and fondness. He had proposed the unity of their clans. When Scorpion had responded with expected hostility, having only recently began the road to rebuilding the Fire Gardens and the Shirai-Ryu, Sub-Zero had merely stated he would reiterate his proposal when he, Scorpion, had “cooled down”.

This had, naturally, caused Hanzo’s ire to rise to a fever pitch and the battle had been glorious. Kuai Liang still bore a few scars from it and he noticed that Scorpion did, too. They were well-matched and what had finished it, what had saved them both from unnecessary pain, was Sub-Zero’s powerful arms, closing around Scorpion’s body, holding tight, and deep freezing him. “I will cool you down, then,” he had said, speaking it into the Shirai-Ryu ninja’s ear as the man lost consciousness.

Once again, it was this same technique which was helping to pull Hanzo Hasashi out of that space of nightmares and hellscapes which was the subconscious, unconscious mind of a survivor of Netherrealm’s deepest pits.

“I will bear these scars for the rest of my life,” Scorpion said, staring into Sub-Zero’s eyes, daring him to argue. Nodding, Sub-Zero brought his lips to the man’s forehead, laying them there gently, without urgency, drawing back as he pleased.

“I know you will,” he said quietly. “Your body and mind are a tapestry of your story—we are all stories, but some of us are … page-turners.”

His smile was soft, just as gentle as the kiss he had offered up. It softened Hanzo’s expression marginally and Kuai Liang felt himself breathe a mental sigh of relief. He was afraid it would come to blows, as it sometimes did. Likely, now, they would speak a while, talk of the past, of the future, of the present, and then perhaps make love before drifting off once more.

Their athleticism had not waned in their time apart, but upon Sub-Zero’s insistence, they were taking it relatively easy on the intimacy front. He knew it frustrated his companion, but the last thing he wanted to do was prolong Hanzo’s recovery time because they had been a little too ambitious. He didn’t mind having the man around. Ideally, Scorpion would simply retire, leave the Shirai-Ryu to Takeda, a very worthy successor, and come to live with him at Arctika, permanently.

He knew there was more of a chance to see Lord Raiden’s hair.

“Takeda is a worthy man,” Hanzo whispered hoarsely, dropping his gaze, wishing only to talk now.

“You trained him well,” said Sub-Zero, his compliment not a hollow one. He had seen the Shirai-Ryu fight and they were all proficient and dangerous, as assassins ought to be, but Takeda was on another level entirely. Perhaps it was his innate telepathy that gave him an edge, but without training, it would otherwise be useless.

“He is a son to me,” stated Scorpion almost too flatly, as if he, working so hard to conceal his emotions regarding Takeda Takahashi, had overcompensated and utterly drained the statement of its life’s blood. Sub-Zero understood. He tightened his hold a moment. “I know I have no right,” Hanzo continued, “as he is already the son of another, but his firstborn bears my name, so I am responsible for him.”

“He is responsible for himself, as every Earthrealm warrior should be,” Kuai Liang returned, “and besides, no Shirai-Ryu is alone, are they? You are family.”

“I do not like the separation,” admitted Hanzo, his voice barely above a whisper once more, afraid to admit this aloud, too. “I feel I am… failing them, weakening the clan.”

“You have added to your ranks, my Fire—Jacqueline Briggs is more than a competent kombatant. She makes Takeda a better man and he makes her a better woman; they sharpen each other as lovers must do. They are the ideal for your clan and family.”

Struck by the passion of Sub-Zero’s speech, Scorpion looked up again, reading much and more in his companion’s features, but still not quite able to discern whence this fervor had come. His heart was even beating faster, which it never did. A kryomancer’s heart was almost always on low, relatively speaking. This alarmed Hanzo, but he said nothing, content to see what would come next.

“You are family,” Kuai Liang repeated, “and… I desire to… also be part of your family, Hanzo.” He paused, pursing his lips and considering, but never, ever breaking eye contact with Scorpion. The man was not unlike a beast, at times, and dropping one’s gaze was absolutely a sign of weakness—something he could not afford right now, if his wishes, his deepest, most pure desires were to be fulfilled. “Do me the honor, if you would, Grandmaster, of being mine… permanently, in blood and covenant, forever.”

It was not a question.

And it need not have been. Scorpion expected force and vigor from his lover and this was precisely that, and then some. His surprise came from the fact that the proposal had followed yet another of his episodes, each one of which he considered shameful and a mark upon his honor. Every single time, he had vowed in blood that it would be his last. Each time, he knew Sub-Zero knew better. Did he hate this or love it about the man? He could not decide.

“An alliance,” he grunted. Kuai Liang laughed, a hoarse sound, but not without joy, not by a long shot. He squeezed Hanzo tightly once more and buried his face in the man’s hair, breathing deep the scent of the one he loved more than his own life.

“Yes, you silly fool, an alliance,” said Sub-Zero, still laughing and once more drawing Scorpion to him, this time pressing their lips together, long and slow. The heat of Hanzo’s mouth and the chill of Kuai Liang’s mixed somewhere in the center of complete comfort and the beginnings of tantalizing satisfaction. The conclusion would arrive hours later in breathless gasps and the sound of each other’s names, spoken with reverence and gravity, the spill of their love preceding deep, restful sleep until the rosy fingers of dawn caressed them and they arose to the winter wonderland of Arctika and a new day.

#cc #cw #subscorp #thermodynamic equilibrium #mortal kombat #mk #sub-zero #scorpion #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #shit's gettin gay fellas

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

Could you do #28 indruck? Or maybe OT4?

#28 was: Mermified. I went with Indruck. Hope you like it!

The rocks on the window start the night he moves in.

He writes it off as an anomaly, or perhaps kids from the town deciding to toy with the new resident.

After three nights in a row, he’s beginning to understand why this house was such a bargain. Yes, it’s a lovely houseboat for one on the Pacific coast, offset from much of the neighborhood for privacy. But every night, small rocks and shells will hit your window, disrupting your already tenuous sleep schedule.

It can’t be a human, because his bedroom faces the ocean, and he’d hear or see a boat or paddleboard or whatever else they used to get there. For awhile he assumes it might be a ghost; his last apartment was actually haunted by a miner who died from the Spanish Flu. They got along rather well, as he didn’t manifest often and Indrid was always careful to leave him offerings or tokens of respect on days like his deathaversary.

But after scoping the house top to bottom, using a Oujia Board, and just politely asking if there was anyone there who needed to talk to him, he’s disregarded that possibility.

And tonight, he’s made the mistake of sleeping with the window open, meaning the chunk of bull kelp hit’s him square in the face.

“Oh for goodness sake.” He sits up, sticking his head out the window to glare at the waves.

The waves glare back. Or, more accurately, a face sticking out of the waves does.

“Do you mind?”

“Yeah, I mind a whole fuckin’ lot.” The man swims right to the side of the house, locomotion too smooth for there to be legs beneath the water, “I mind because this whole area is under my protection, and this big fuckin house is gonna fuck up this cove.”

He knew there were merpeople along this coast, he just wasn’t expecting to see one up close. Or for it to be so grumpy.

“I’ll have you know I asked for multiple modifications to this house before I moved in. It is designed to have almost zero impact on the marine environment.”

“Uh huh, sure.” The merman crosses his arms, “you ain’t just sayin’ that to get rid of me.” A flash of yellow light under the water.

“Well, technically, I am. I would prefer to not have you hurling things at my window every night because you think my leaving is the only way for your patch of ocean to be safe. A strategy, I take it, that worked on my predecessors.”

“Yep. Most left after a couple of days.”

“Most probably had more places they could go. I do not.”

“Ain’t my problem. Never shoulda let them start buildin’ here in the first place; wrecks havoc on the forest.” He glances towards open water, tips of giant kelp just visible in the moonlight. He sounds tired.

“How about this: you keep an eye on this cove, and if you notice any issues directly caused by my home, I will leave. But if not, you stop throwing things at my window.”

“Fine.” The merman turns, makes to dive under the water, then spins around, “but if I catch you tryin’ anythin’ funny, next time I’m throwin’ a shark through the window.”

The next night brings welcome silence at his window. The day after, however….

“What are you doin’ here, anyway?”

“Good afternoon to you as well.” Indrid doesn’t look up from his drawing; a benefit of being born with odd, future seeing abilities is that he isn’t startled by the merman’s appearance (said abilities don’t function well when he’s sleep deprived, which is why he didn’t see the merman’s initial appearance coming).

“I mean, y’all can build houses wherever you want up on land. Why live on the water?”

“Because I find it peaceful. I have limited luck living in cities, and have grown used to isolation.”

“Don’t humans have to have jobs? You ain’t left here except once to get food.”

“Spying is impolite.”

“So is livin’ on someone else's turf without askin!” The merman raises out of the water, and Indrid finally gets a good look at him. He has dark hair, mismatched eyes and, just visible, a row of fins like those of a leafy sea dragon dotting his lower back. Ironically, his build is one Indrid finds attractive, a mix of muscle and fat that undoubtedly would feel nice to hold. Were it not for the complication of the tail.

“I am an artist. I draw for a living, hence my ability to live out here. And nobody told me there was a merman living around here, so I did not have the option of speaking to you ahead of time.”

There’s a huff of annoyance, and he barely moves his drawing out of the way of the splash as the merman disappears.

Three days later, he’s once again sitting on the back deck when he hears, “You ain’t seen an injured seal around, have you?”

“No.” He looks up, finds the merman looking thoughtful as he scans the waves and shoreline, “ah, what does it look like? What color is it?”

“Smallish, speckled grey. Got caught in a net and all torn up gettin loose, but I can’t find it.”

“I will keep an eye out. Should I signal you if I see it?”

“Hmmm….yeah, that should work. Maybe hang somethin’ bright' on that line?” He points to the clothes line.

Indrid closes his eyes, focuses on the futures.

The merman sniffs, intrigued, “somethin smells good.”

“It’s my lunch. It ended up not quite being what I wanted, you are welcome to try some.”

The merman grabs the take-out bowl of soup, sipping from it gingerly. His face lights up, and then he gulps the remainder down.

“Damn, that was good.”

“It’s french onion soup. I can bring you more in the future if you’d like. Also, odds are good you’ll find the seal you seek on the beach about a mile that way.”

The merman blinks, “Shit, really? Thanks man.”

“You are welcome.”

The merman hesitates, a flash of white, barely visible in the daylight, zips under water, “Uh, name’s Duck by the way.”

Indrid smiles, “Indrid. Good luck with your search, Duck.”

Duck smiles, bright and friendly as the beach on a hot day, “Thanks.”

--------------------------------------------

Indrid awakens with a cry of alarm. It’s only a nightmare, not even a bad vision, and yet he’s so rattled sleep becomes an unreachable goal. Hoping the night air and lapping waves might help, he drags a blanket onto the back deck, laying down with his back to the water. The nightmare pursues him still, setting off a dozen related memories and fears in his mind until he’s shuddering, trying not to cry.

A cool hand touches his hair and he freezes for a moment before another gasp pushes from his chest, the images flooding his system too much to ignore. The hand continues down his back a ways, then starts at his head once again.

“Why?” He says, not even sure who he’s asking it of.

“Helps the seal and otter pups when they get upset. Thought it might help you too.” Duck replies, “I was doin’ a night round and heard you yell. Came to make sure you were okay.”

He wants to say thank you, but the words are weighed down by the realization of how long it’s been since anyone did such a thing.

“You...pet the pups? Doesn’t, doesn’t that make it difficult if they are eaten by something?”

“A little. Sharks got as much right to live as they do, but still, sometimes they need comfortin if their parents are out huntin. Not my job to protect ‘em from predators. I’m just the keeper of the forest. Means I look out for the animals, the plants. Nature does most of the work for me; lot of my job boils down to makin sure humans don’t fuck everything up.”

“It is a habit we seem to have.”

A pause, Duck’s fingers playing gently with his hair, “Not all of you.”

Indrid rolls over and Duck rests his arms on the deck, soft blue flashes coming off his tail.

“Will you tell me more about what you do?”

“Sure.”

Duck talks and Indrid listens until finally his eyes droop closed. He wakes up hours later, a bit chilly but with the blanket drawn around him. He wonders how he avoided falling into the water in his sleep. Until there’s a soft splash as his nighttime gaurdian slips back into the waves.

---------------------------------------------------

“Ta dah! No, wait, stay over here. That’s a good boy.” Duck proudly circles the large ray he’s herded near Indrid’s boat as Indrid sits down to draw. Over the last few weeks, he’s brought the human more and more items to include in his illustrations, after Indrid mentioned he was working on a pictures for a book about marine life.

It started with brightly colored shells or seaglass left on his deck, then Duck would ask for mason jars or bowls to help place a fish safely where Indrid could sketch it. Lately, he’s taken to shepherding larger sea life where Indrid can see it; seals, otters, rays, even a shark. It’s almost as if he’s showing off, and Indrid notices that his tail flickers bright green whenever Indrid flaps his hands with excitement or thanks him for his help.

Duck visits him every day, even on days when there is no drawing to be done. They talk, or eat together, and Indrid has even hung a hammock out so they can talk well into the night without him accidentally rolling off the deck or Duck having to watch over him until he wakes. Duck can only be out of the water a short time, but he’ll join Indrid on the deck to sun himself, tail bright green and leafy at the “V” that marks the tip of it. When Indrid asks about the lights, Duck explains that they’re tied to his emotions, something to help merpeople signal to each other even in the darkness or murkiness of the ocean.

Indrid buys a kayak, paddles out into open ocean with Duck as his guide, the merman eagerly showing him his favorite places, introducing him to wildlife, and generally mooning over him whenever he thinks Indrid isn’t looking.

The mooning is mutual, of course. Duck is funny and kind, easy going now that he knows Indrid is not a threat to his beloved kelp forest. He’s also painfully handsome in Indrid’s eyes, but the futures show scant chances for Indrid to admit this fact without torpedoing the relationship.

Their laying side by side on the deck tonight, dusk creeping across the sky. In the fading light, he notices Duck’s fins flashing between white and green.

“Are you alright, Duck? You’ve been rather quiet tonight.”

“Uh, um, yeah? Fuck. Uh, you remember me tellin’ you about my friend Aubrey?”

“The one dating the human surfer girl?”

“Yep. They, uh, Aubrey said they finally worked up to kissin. I never heard of mer kissin’ a human and likin’ it before, usually we do it on dares when we’re young and foolish.”

“You seem to be going somewhere with this.” Indrid rolls over, smirking at the future he sees.

“No, uh, fuch, uh, I mean, would, would you ever wanna try it?”

“With any merperson, or just you?”

“Me.” Duck says softly.

Indrid leans in, cups the back of his head to draw him into a kiss, salt and sun mingling on his lips as Duck moans. Sun-warmed skin caresses his back as Duck pulls him closer, and a cool, smooth tail hooks over his ankles.

“Indrid, I, I really, really like you.” Duck whispers, kissing a line along his cheek.

“I really, really like you as well, Duck.” Indrid runs a hand along his side, watches his tail light up bright blue at the touch.

“Can, can we try bein’ together? Like Dani and Aubrey are?”

“Of course.” Indrid grins, then gives a muffled laugh as Duck kisses him once more, rolling atop him, wiggling happily as the kiss deepens, Indrid teasing his fingers along his fins to make him whine.

Then the mer gasps, dropping into the water and coming back up panting.

“Shit, that was close.”

“You were out too long?” Indrid shifts to his stomach

“Yep. Can’t blame me for gettin’ distracted, and honestly I’d fuckin pass out if that’s what it took to kiss you again.”

Indrid bends down, kissing him softly, “no need for such drastic measures yet. But I agree it would be nice to have, ah, dalliances that can last a bit longer. I’m sure we can think of something.”

They try filling the bathtub with seawater, but can’t get Duck to it. Indrid opts to swim, but he’s not a strong swimmer, and any beaches where they could be half in and half out of the water are either too well-traveled or made out of sharp rocks that hurt them both.

They have some success when Indrid lays on his side, facing the water, to touch himself, moaning Ducks name and telling him just what he’ll do to him once he’s able as Duck frantically kisses him, tail flashing blue and purple.

But after night after night of longing looks, too-short embraces, and kisses at odd angles, he decides enough is enough.

------------------------------------

“Why have you come, young man?”

“I wish to make a deal. There’s something I need you to enchant.”

The man grins, cat-like and hungry, “Very well. But it is going to cost you.”

--------------------------------------

Duck circles the patch of kelp he’s checking for the tenth time. He can’t focus, should just go home and rest, but he needs to keep occupied so he stops worrying about the note he found on the deck two days ago.

Duck,

Have a problem that needs solving. May be gone several days. Don’t worry, it will be alright.

Love, Indrid.

In spite of the reassurance in the letter, he’s terrified that Indrid might be hurt. Might have left him entirely.

An unfamiliar shape flits in the corner of his vision, and he turns.

“Holy fuck.”

“Good afternoon to you too.” Indrid grins, swimming to him a bit gracelessly with mottled black and red tail. The red and black fan of fin on his lower back flashes bright green for a moment.

“Indrid.” Duck says with awe, not quite believing his eyes even as his tail curls around Indrid’s own.

“Indeed. I, ah, found someone who would help me. Help us.”

“Are you, uh, stuck like this?”

He shakes his head, “No, I have a charm” he holds up his wrist to reveal a small cord, “I can go back to being human as needed. But I, ah, I can no longer see the future. I...that was the trade for this.”

“You gave that up just for me?” Duck cups his cheeks, brushes their noses together.

Indrid grins, “Yes. After all, whatever the futures may hold, whatever I can no longer see coming, does not matter half as much as the future I’m holding right now.”

#indruck #mermay fills #mermaid au #indrid cold/duck newton #duck x indrid

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kingofthecon · 3 years

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@flynnfletchr Stanford was doing that thing where he tried to pace a hole into the floor of their hotel room and it had become aggravating thirty minutes ago. "Ford." The slightly older twin didn't seem to hear his younger brother and continued pacing in the same spot - arms behind his back as he mumbled about whether or not he still had time to come up with a different project for the science fair. The answer? No. Not unless he could come up with something in less than twelve hours. "Ford. Please. I don't wanna knock you unconscious but so help me I will if it means we both get some sleep. It'll be fine." Stanford Pines looked towards his twin who was laying flat on his stomach at the edge of the bed with his arms beneath his head. The scowl he wore read as 'try me', and caused Stanford to slow to a stop. He looked bent out of shape, almost miserable and Stanley Pines didn't understand why. They went to several science fairs and Ford was always a shoe-in for first or second place. Maybe that was the reason why? The teenagers from Danville were competing in this particular contest of dorks and though Ford appreciated the friendly competition and the challenge that came with trying to one up the boys each year, it was clear that Ford didn't like it when he lost to them. He wasn't exactly a sore loser, but he wasn't a gracious loser either. He would put on a front, accept whatever place he'd taken, and then go back to the drawing board to hopefully come up with something even better to showcase his intelligence all while grumbling under his breath and talking like an actual super villain. Who uses the words RUE THE DAY in a legitimate conversation? "For one, you literally don't have time to come up with something else for this thing unless you decide to make a Mentos and Cola volcano using a Styrofoam cup cause that's what I have on me, and I don't think that'll even win a first grade science fair project. Secondly, you're a genius in a room full of geniuses. If you're that desperate then I can probably steal or sabotage someone's project for you which--don't look at me like that, I just wanted to make sure you weren't too far gone which brings me to bulletin three. Everyone knows that you have a high IQ. The highest IQs. The tallest mountain in the world of IQs. You don't really have to prove yourself so just relax." "Stanley, you don't understand. Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher have an extensive history with their creations. I'm just a kid from Jersey who came out of nowhere." "Sixer, everyone loves the underdog. Besides, you three practically share the limelight at these things. You guys are top brass. Nothin' wrong with a little friendly competition to keep the blood flowin'." "Stanley, you're supposed to be on my side!" "I am on your side. One hundred percent. Otherwise I would have shoved you into the hallway so I could get some semblance of sleep. Instead I'm trying to talk you out of coming up with a list of junk you could make in the next like, eleven hours. You created a functioning robot girl complete with artificial intelligence and everything. You've skipped like, a hundred of these fairs to perfect Stannabelle." "She's an android and that is not her name." "The point is that you'll probably have even Tony friggin' Stark or Bruce Wayne lookin' your way. I mean, that's part of the reason why you chose this particular science fair, right? Who knows. Maybe once you're outta West Coast Tech you'll get picked up by Stark Industries or Wayne Enterprises? Oh, what about Star Labs?" "That's why this has to be perfect!" With a whine, Stanley rolled over and allowed himself to fall out of the bed. He wasn't on the floor long; rising to his feet he made his way towards the closet where the robot girl was sitting in her charging station. If anyone looked at the bot they would believe it to be a human with Stan and Ford as her big brothers. Stanley crossed his arms and presented to Ford his own creation. "Earth to nerd. The kid's perfect." "She sounds like I installed a Speak & Spell as her voice modulator." "Okay, so you missed something when you programmed her. Just, I dunno, take apart the TV if ya gotta do somethin'. Just...you need to relax. It'll be fine." He pat the android on top of her head and closed the closet door before flopping back down on the bed. "Just...you know, do it quietly? Some of us wanna walk around the Expo and sneak into places they shouldn't." "You're going to get us kicked out." "Probably yeah, so make the most of it. I'm goin' ta bed. Try not to stay up too late. Night, nerd." "Night, pain in my side brother who occasionally makes sense when it's convenient for him." "Too long. Try again." With that Stanley pulled back the covers and spread out for sleep leaving Ford to figure out what to do. He'd brought extra parts and equipment in case something went wrong so...like Stanley had suggested, he began to work on fixing the voice modulator with parts around their hotel room. ____________________________

Morning arrived way too fast and was thus slept through meaning that Stanley woke around noon. His awakening was accompanied by a terrified scream as a face way too close to his for comfort came into focus as he opened his eyes. He rolled off the bed in his attempt to get away and orient himself with his surroundings. His fall came with a one man laugh track which caused Stanley to zero in on the culprit. "Are you alright, Uncle Stan?" a little girl with the too expressive for what should have been a robot's face asked him. Stanley, a little unnerved with the realistically human sounding voice looked passed her and towards his twin who was far too proud of himself. "Peachy," he answered as his twin tried to hide his laughter behind a six fingered hand. Stanley pulled himself up so that he was kneeling against the side of the bed. More awake and aware now he realized what this meant. He turned to Ford and he grinned at him while patting his "niece" on top of her head. "This is great! So ya managed to fix the voice issue. Good job, and nice to finally meet you, kiddo." "My designation is not "Kiddo". I am Alpha 001 - SP." Stanford had such a proud look on his face while Stanley just slow blinked at the two of them before he began moving around the room to change into his clothes for the day. "Okay, but I'm calling you Allie for short. "But my designation--" "--Is a mouthful. No one is gonna call ya that except for the uppity geeks who want to sound professional and use big words all the time. 'sides, when someone has a long name like that people usually give'em nicknames. For example, Stanford over there tends to go by Ford while I, Stanley, go by Stan or Lee." The little android was silent for a moment, most likely computing the information she'd received or something before she finally nodded her head in understanding. "Very well. I will accept this as a secondary form of address. "Excellent! You've really outdone yourself, Sixer. Allie's perfect! Though I hope you slept. Anyway, I'mma go walk around the place and get breakfast." A look to the clock had him groaning. "Or brunch, apparently. You two should get ready for later this afternoon. I'll meet you at your booth or whatever." Once completely dressed with his hair and teeth brushed, the younger twin made his way from the hotel room and sighed as he headed towards his destination. Though he was happy to be here to support his brother, he didn't really feel as though he belonged. There'd been a few times in the past where he'd gotten mistaken for his brother, but once they realized the mix-up and asked him questions pertaining to his brother's project Stanley had only succeeded in making a fool of himself. He wasn't smart. He was barely above average and in a turn of crazy events he ended up being made fun of. It reminded him of the bullies back home in Glass Shard Beach, specifically Crampelter and his cronies, but back then it was never this...bad? This humiliating? Though it didn't happen often, it did happen enough that he hated coming to these things. He'd never tell his brother though. Stanford had been teased all his life for his Polydactyly and for being the smartest person in any room. Stanley could bite the bullet of being the odd one out for a change, especially when it only happened once every year or every other year. Stanley hummed to himself as he entered the elevator which went from hotel to convention center. He rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet the balls of his toes as he mentally counted the floors as they lit up. Once the doors opened and he stepped out he found himself tripping over something. He blinked as he stumbled out of the elevator. A part of him wondered if he'd tripped over some nerds project garnering the reaction of, 'oh shit!' and 'at least that'll knock out one of Ford's competitors. When he actually looked at what he'd tripped over, however... "What the heck are you s'posed to be?" He crouched in front of the teal duck bill beaver tailed...thing, and poked at it to make sure that he hadn't hurt it. "You lost and tryin' to catch the elevator, little guy? Or are you a girl? whatevenareyou?" He moved to pick up the creature just to make sure with no regards for safety (the creature could absolutely bite him after all), but his love of animals outweighed his need to be careful.

#flynnfletchr #—Swindler's Folly #► Mystery Hack #Science Fair/College AU #Maybe?#—X-0vers #Loooooooong Post #In My Head He Trips Over Perry and Perry Makes the Sound #x'D #Stan Is Just Like #Whazzat?!

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everykindofnerd13 · 4 years

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“Are they.. did they really... oh my god...” Suga sighed, exasperated and shook his head. He sat back against the wall, watching his little crows, proud, but still baffled. The whole team had come out for a sleepover. Kazuhito and Kinoshita were already fast asleep in the buried under blankets. Tanaka and Noya had pulled the remaining members into a circle of Twenty Questions, not that it really mattered, they were barely playing, it was more like a circle of conversations. Noya, Tanaka, and Asahi were pulled deep into a conversation about something or another, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Ennoshita were also talking while Tsuki and Yams played Uno, Suga was talking with Daichi before he started to observe his little crows.

Suga had been watching as Kageyama and Hinata had completely blocked out everyone else in the room. Hinata was curled together in Kageyama’s lap, their fingers intertwined, while they spoke in hushed voices, Hinata giggling every once and a while, and a rare genuine smile graced Kageyama’s lips.

“They’re so... blissfully unaware of the world around them...” Suga muttered, drawing a giggle from Daichi.

“We all get like that sometimes Kou...” Suga sighed but nodded, settling back against Daichi’s chest.

“Dai... what am I gonna do with my baby crows?” Daichi laughed, rubbing Suga’s back.

“What you’ve been doing baby,” he confirms, leaving a kiss on Suga’s temple.

“But... what about when I... we... when we leave?” Daichi’s breath hitched and he looked at Suga sadly, while Suga stared right back at him.

“You’re gonna stay in touch,” he muttered in response, looking back at Hinata and Kageyama, “you’re gonna be supportive, and you’re gonna do your best, okay?” Daichi asked, tilting Suga’s head to look at him.

“Of course, and we’ll... we’ll go to some of their games right? When we can?” Suga was staring at Hinata and Kageyama sadly, thinking about he, Daichi, and Asahi leaving in just a few weeks.

“Course honey, we’ll be living together too so it’ll be easier...” Suga nodded sadly, still very obviously sad that he wouldn’t be able to play with his favorite boys any longer.

“Dad! What did you do! Why is Sugamom sad!?” Nishinoya exclaimed, shooting up to run over to the third years.

“I didn’t do anything!” Daichi shouted, and Suga just laughed while he rubbed at the tears accumulating in his eyes.

“I’m fine Noya, I’m just being blubbery about graduation,” he explained, which brought the whole room’s mood down. No one wanted to think about what would come after Highschool. Other than their Volleyball careers.

“It’s okay Suga~Senpai!” Hinata exclaimed, clambering over to the third years, “I’ll make sure to call you every week! And Tobio and I will fill you in! I’ll even try to get Tsukki and Yams to join in!” Kageyama flushed when Hinata called him by his given name, but didn’t stop him. This caused basically everyone but Hinata to snicker amused, while Kageyama came up behind Hinata to wrap his arms around him, making Suga think of how clingy Daichi was when they had just started dating. Hinata immediately fell back into Kageyama’s embrace, melting against his chest the same way that Suga did Daichi.

“Every week Hinata?” Suga asked wearily, hoping he wouldn’t be intruding on Hinata’s schedule.

“As long as you have time! So do I!” Hinata grinned and everyone smiled fondly at the first year. He was too busy looking at Suga though.

“That’s genius,” Nishinoya confirmed and bumped his arm against Hinata’s. Kageyama dipped down to place a soft kiss against Hinata’s shoulder, and everyone else just sorta nodded recognition.

“So it’s settled! Mom doesn’t have to be sad because Hinata is gonna call him every week!” Nishinoya jumped up and ran over to the deck of uno cards forgotten on the floor. Everyone gathered around and they actually interacted while they played cards. The whole time though, Suga couldn’t take his eyes off the newly together first years. They were being impossibly adorable.

Hinata was sitting between Kageyama’s legs, playing Uno, while Kageyama sat out. He had his hands around Hinata’s waist, pressing soft and unhurried kisses to Hinata’s shoulders and neck every OC e and while, it wasn’t like he was trying to be discreet, because he didn’t have to be, he wasn’t trying to seduce Hinata, he was just basking in the option to affectionate with his boyfriend around other people. It was the cutest thing Suga had ever seen. And he had seen a baby and puppy playing together in the park last week.

Hinata seemed content too, he was leaning into Kageyama’s touch but his head was slightly tilted to give Kageyama room to kiss him every once and a while. His free hand was rested on Kageyama’s arm, rubbing gentle cirlces in the taller first year’s wrist. Suga smiled and put down his card, he wasn’t really trying to win, more just playing to play, and he had the feeling that’s what everyone was doing, well, not Nishinoya and Tanaka, but what could you do?

Later that night, everyone was laid out on the living room floor about to slee when Noya suddenly spoke up.

“Who out of all of us would be the prettiest girl?” He asked out of the blue.

“Noya- what?” Asahi asked. Noya giggled a little.

I dunno, I was just thinking about all those genderbend arts on the internet, and like, based on our features, who would be the prettiest girl?” Tanaka sat up to laugh loudly.

“Oh my god Noya! That’s such a high-thought!” He pointed out and Noya punche dhim in the arm.

“No really though!” He exclaimed. Suga sighed and sat up to pull the cord on the lamp.

“I guess we’re doing this,” he said to everyone in the room. Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata were already up, ready for this ridiculous conversation.

“I think it’d be Hinata,” Noya said simply, pointing at the first year.

“What? Why?” He asked, once again leaning on Kageyama, oh lord they were gonna be in the honeymoon phase for WEEKS at this rate.

“Well, Hinata, you have red curly hair, light freckles, a round face, and you’re short, plus you’re eyes are like milk-chocolate brown, so yeah, you’d be a pretty girl.” Hinata scrunched you his nose in that cute way he did when he was thinking.

“I think ‘Yama would be the prettiest girl,” he said, pointing at his boyfriend over his shoulder. Kageyama huffed and laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“You’re only saying that cause he’s your boyfriend,” Noya complained. Hinata shook his head quickly and Tanaka nodded, actually pulling himself closer to the first years.

“Actually, he makes a valid point, Kageyama has naturally tan skin, raven black hair, midnight blue eyes, plus lets be honest, if you feminizes his features slightly, as they do in genderbends, he would have pouty lips,” Tanaka poked his Kohai in the cheek while the boy’s cheeks turned bright red.

“And his hair’s board straight naturally! It’s like, he’s perfect no matter what!” Hinata exclaimed which made Kageyama blush even darker and push Hinata away before laying back down on his stomach and hiding his face in his hands.

“Oh, is the king embarrassed?” Tsukishima teased from his mat next to Yamaguchi’s, one hand absentmindedly threading through his boyfriend’s hair.

“No! I’m just-,” Kageyama took a deep breath, “I think it’d be Hinata or Tsuki,” he pointed out as he sat back up.

“Tsuki?” Yamaguchi asked as he sat up.

“Yeah, he’s got fair skin, blonde hair, glasses, seems like what straight guys would like in a woman.” Noya, Hinata, Tanaka, and Yamaguchi all basically laughed their asses off. Suga couldn’t help but giggle too.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” Tanaka asked, and Kageyama just shrugged.

“I wasn’t ever really attracted to anyone before Shoyo,” he said simply, but Hinata went bright red.

“Awww, Kageyama’s first crush was our one and only Decoy!” Noya exclaimed, ruffling both first year’s hair.

“So... like, no one, not even anyone on TV?” Noya asked after a moment. Kageyama shook his head.

“I only realised I was gay when I realised I liked Hinata, it wasn’t like I some guy in a magazine at a salon and thought that he was pretty, I just, like Hinata,” Kageyama explained, which made Suga and Yamaguchi coo.

“Awww, so you’re like... Shoyo-Sexual?” Suga asked and Kageyama and Hinata lit up bright red. Noya, Tanaka, Tsuki, and Yamaguchi all laughed loudly.

“Hey guys, you can’t deny that having your gay awakening to your current boyfriend is pretty cute!” Suga said, swatting at the second years.

“Yeah, plus, you told me yours was Gajeel, so...” Suga trailed off.

“Hey! So what if I have a thing for guys who could lift me up and snap me in half,” Noya pointed an accusing finger at Suga, “YOU GET IT!” He shouted. Suga went bright red, cause yeah, he definitely had a thing for Daichi’s arms, but there was no need to call him out on it.

“Whatever, I like this conversation but real quick,” Tsuki interrupted, “I think Suga would make the prettiest girl, not only does he have fair skin, anyone would go for silver hair, his eyes are very nice, we all know that Suga would be like Kiyoko but more energetic,” Tsuki said, pointing at his Senpai. Suga blushed and grabbed at his hair, pulling it down to look at it.

“That’s true! Suga~San has natural platinum silver hair!” Hinata exclaimed and Suga groaned, falling back.

“No! But the thing is, you don’t look old, or anything, you just look like a... like a model or something!” Hinata defended, pointing excitedly at Suga. The third year couldn’t help but blush profusely. Daichi chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to Suga’s temple.

“Blaaaah!” Noya fake-gagged.

“Gross!” Tanaka exclaimed, “Mom and dad are kissing!” Daichi picked up a pillow to throw at Tanaka.

“The other second years and Asahi are sleeping!” He whisper-shouted.

“Anyway, back to the discussion of Gay Awakenings™, I’d like to know your answers.” Tsuki said pointedly, leaning back against the wall and pulling on Yamaguchi’s shoulder to wrap an arm around him. Suga giggled softly and looked around at everyone.

“Who goes first?” He asked, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on a clearly flustered Hinata, “How about you Hinata?” He asked with an innocent and evil smirk on his face.

“Mmmmm!” Hinata groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. He popped back up after a minute and looked at everyone with a bright blush on his cheeks.

“When I was younger, my mom would always leave random anime playing on the TV, one of them was... Free,” Tsuki snickered, knowing exactly where this was going, “and I...” he groaned again, hitting his forehead on the floor in embarrassment, “I had a huge puppy crush on Haru!” He said into the floor. Suga covered his mouth as he laughed silently. Of course Hinata had a gay awakening to someone who looked just like his current boyfriend.

“Awwww! Haru! But he looks-,” Yamaguchi stopped to stifle a laugh instead turning to look at Kageyama.

“You two are absolutely disgusting,” Tanaka complained, rolling his eyes. Noya side-eyes him.

“Tanaka, you realised you were bi because you couldn’t figure out if you thought Flynn or Rapunzel was more attractive,” he pointed out, jabbing a finger at his bestfriend. Tanaka flushed, casting his gaze to the ground.

“Hm, I actually don’t know what all of your sexualities are...” Suga pointed out, a finger on his chin as he tried to remember.

“Ah! I’m pansexual!” Hinata said easily, like he had nothing to be afraid of, which felt amazing to Suga. He hummed and smiled at his Kohai.

“Oh, I’m Bi, you know that,” Tanaka said simply as well, earning himself a flash of Suga Smile™.

“I’m Gay, cause well, yeah, only Sho,” Kageyama muttered, and Suga flashed him another grin. Yamaguchi spoke up next.

“I’m- well I don’t really know, I really love Tsuki, duh, but I thought Yachi was pretty cute when I met her, and it’s not like if I weren’t with Tsuki I wouldn’t consider dating someone non-binary, gender fluid, or anything like that, so I don’t really know...” Suga shook his head softly.

“That’s okay Yama, I didn’t realize I was full-on homosexual, men are cursed-blessings, rainbow leds, gay until second year, so it’s okay to not know,” Yamaguchi smiled back at Suga, and of course, that made Suga melt inside.

“I’m pretty sure I’m Demi?” Tsuki said after a moment, “I dunno, I can’t imagine being with anyone but Yams, but that’s just because rove known him the longest and he knows me the best out of everyone here, we’ll plus I’m extremely attracted to him, but you get it,” Suga nodded in understanding and then turned to look at Daichi.

“Oh, me now?” He questioned before clearing his throat, “Uh yeah, I’m gay, rainbow leds and all that,” Hinata burst out laughing at Daichi’s words but they all nodded in recognition.

“You ever realize that like... we’re all, so gay? Literally everyone I’ve met through volleyball so far as been LGBT...” Hinata pointed out and Nishinoya started laughing.

“Wait but you’re right!” Suga cheered, looking bewildered at Hinata.

“Is there anyone... like... fully straight that we know in volleyball?” Tanaka asked after a moment. Everyone started thinking.

“That Terushima guy?” Noya suggested. Tsuki and Kageyama both tensed before both growling.

“Definitely not,” they both gritted out through their teeth. Hinata and Yamaguchi made eye-contact and giggled before sitting up to kiss their individual boyfriends. Terushima has been... VERY FORWARD, with flirting with them at the last match. Kageyama and Tsuki both pouted a little and scowled at the ground.

“Ah! So he flirted with our baby crows... I see...” Suga growled under his breath and Noya and Tanaka laughed a little at his reaction. Daichi chuckled and rubbed his boyfriend’s back.

“Anyway, Uh, is Atsumu straight?” Kageyama shook his head aggressively and glared at the ground again. Hinata giggled.

“Ah, no, he was flirting with me a bit a while ago,” he laughed, “But I’m pretty sure that he has something with Sakusa now...”

“So is there anyone?” Noya asked after a couple seconds.

“Hm, I really don’t think so...” Hinata muttered. Suga laughed.

“Well, then we can agree that in volleyball, you are gay until proven straight, ha!” He joked, and that made everyone else giggle a little too.

“Okay but speaking of people flirting with Hinata, how many people have flirted with you Hinata?” The redhead flushed bright red, he couldn’t help it, he was definitely hit on a lot. Kageyama cast his glare to the side.

“Is our decoy a heartbreaker?” Tanaka asked after a moment and Hinata picked up a pillow to throw at him.

“Shut up Senpai! I’m not a heartbreaker!” He exclaimed, annoyed then got a little shy, “Everyone seems to think I’m worth flirting with...” Kageyama turned to poke Hinata in the side.

“That’s the thing, you’re a small, adorable, round faced, excited cutie, so all the big tall guys are like... totally into you and your personality,” Kageyama pouted, gripping Hinata possessively to his chest, and while it was cute, Suga hoped that it wouldn’t evolve much.

“We both know that you’re the only one for me,” Hinata chuckled, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. That’s when Suga realized it wouldn’t.

“You guys are disgusting, and I’m gonna quit life.” Tsuki grabbed Hamaguchi and pulled him down to cuddle while he decidedly went to sleep. Yamaguchi giggled and sat up slightly to mouth a goodnight to all of his friends before snuggling up under Tsuki’s chin and going to sleep as well.

“Anyway, if I were to count how many guys have flirted with me while I’ve been playing volleyball...” Hinata held up a hand and started tapping his fingers while he counted. He got to 6 and looked at Suga then pointed at Kageyama, as if to ask, ‘Does he count?’ To which Suga nodded. Hinata nodded back and kept counting. Hinata got to 12 and closed his hands.

“Twelve!” He exclaimed, and Suga watched Kageyama’s arm tighten a little again. He giggled but soon turned serious.

“So, Hinata is being hit on by other teams, that means we’ve got to keep him near us, which shouldn’t be hard considering Kageyama,” Daichi muttered, a hand in his chin, that’s when Suga realised.

“Oh my god! People are trying to exploit my baby crow! Gah! How did I not realize!” Suga smacked his head and Daichi immediately grabbed his wrist.

“Stop that it’s fine, anyway,” Daichi was cut off by Nishinoya.

“I’m small and cute and excited! Why does Hinata get all the guys?” He grumbled. Tanaka laughed.

“Because Hinata isn’t chaotic.” He answered simply, but before Noya could retaliate, Daichi spork over both boys.

“Alright! Bed time! Seriously! We have practice tomorrow!” Tanaka and Noya both grumbled but curled into their mats while Hinata pulled Kageyama up onto the couch with him and they also curled up. Daichi rolled his eyes, pulling Suga down to his mat with him and pulling him close to his chest.

#daisuga #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #haikyuu!!#karasuno crows #kagehina #shoyo hinata #tobio kageyama #yuu nishinoya #azumane asahi #ryuunosuke tsunashi #kei tsukishima #yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu au #sleepover #tsukiyama

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this-writer-d · 5 years

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Zero Eclipse is Ymir’s love song to Historia - analysis and thoughts

So I listened to this song repeatedly and decided to analyse the lyrics, because I’m weak for YumiHisu and this song gives us so much content to work with. My main theory is that this song progresses chronologically following the events of Ymir’s story. It starts with Ymir as a titan, then to Ymir hearing about Historia, meeting her, falling in love with her, them revealing their secrets, then finally Historia reading the letter and possibly hidden events afterwards. Please remember these are just my personal interpretations and I in no way claim all of this is canon. A lot of the meanings are obvious but for some we’d need confirmation, which we will never get.

[Verse 1] I had wandered the walls forever But came upon a way for my return Heard your name in a conversation Your kindness I’d yet to learn Life has been like an endless nightmare And now your light it leads me home again Is it fate to be smashed to pieces? If you go we go together / For…

Ymir wandered around Paradis for a long time, eventually finding Reiner and his team and eating Marcel, thus turning her back into a human, her “return” to her humanity. ‘Heard your name in conversation’ is clearly referencing when Ymir overheard the cultists talking about Historia. She literally heard of Historia through them, and sought her out. She clearly had her own intentions but didn’t know what type of person Historia was, but she would eventually learn. I think for both of them, life was a nightmare. This seems to especially point at Ymir though, as her entire life up until meeting Historia was difficult and filled with anguish. She went from an orphan to being in a cult, to being paraded through the streets, stoned and mocked, and then turned into a titan as punishment. Her being a titan has been mentioned as being in a nightmare. Historia means so much to Ymir that she reminds Ymir that she is human and that she can still be good despite everything she has been through. The last part confuses me, because despite all their promises, they still separated. I still firmly believe that Isayama decided to make Ymir do something totally out of her character to suit his plot, because Ymir would never have gone where Historia couldn’t follow.

[Verse 2] Now you are a part of me I will defend and honour thee Jealousy will get me into trouble Since I met you kid my blades are double!

Historia becomes incredibly important to Ymir, so much that Ymir considers Historia a part of her. She feels so strongly that she will defend and honour her, and she also feels jealousy regarding Historia (most likely when not receiving Historia’s attention), but she knows that’ll only cause conflict. Since getting to know Historia, Ymir’s “blades are double” meaning she fights harder and probably has something to actually defend/believe in. Historia becomes something Ymir cares enough about to want to fight for.

[Pre-Chorus] Sad am I to never hear you sigh Of ecstasy And fingertips You’re trembling We share a kiss Our worlds eclipse

Now this part has me shook. I have two interpretations here. One, this is either Ymir sadly lamenting the fact that they never managed to enjoy these things (a.k.a have sex), or, the fact that she herself won’t experience them again. If it’s the latter, that means Ymir has heard Historia’s sigh of ecstasy. ‘Fingertips’ is very clearly alluding to sex, and ‘trembling’ the orgasm. It’s admitted that they’ve kissed, too. This part fills me so with much emotion like damn. If it’s the former, then Ymir genuinely wanted to have sexually intimate moments with Historia, because aside from just loving her intensely, she definitely is attracted to her physically. ‘Our worlds eclipse’ is a fascinating line, because I think that could mean that like, they both have such intense issues that they eclipse each other into total darkness. Their problems could cause more problems between each other, but, they didn’t. It could also perhaps allude to the fact that they both suffered similar types of trauma.

[Chorus] You’re bigger Bigger! Why do you hide? I will shiver Shiver! It’s suicide! But if there’s no desire To get back out alive You’re a zero!

What Ymir means here, to my understanding, is that Historia is better than what she thinks she is. “Bigger” as in, worth more. She asks why Historia is hiding, because she did. She hid her true identity. ‘I will shiver’ could signify either Ymir’s own fear or her anger. I’m leaning more towards anger, considering the ‘it’s suicide!’ that Ymir actually says to Historia. She very much hates the fact that Historia tries to die meaninglessly, and she tells her that if she doesn’t want to stand up and live as herself, then she’s nothing. But Ymir also tells her that she can stand up, because she’s bigger than just dying senselessly for people that don’t matter.

[Bridge] You’re bigger Bigger! Why do you ride? I will shiver Shiver! Into the fire! You just get out alive! We’ll let our worlds collide We are bigger!

This part is slightly different, in that I think Ymir is asking Historia what her true desires are. I interpret the ‘shiver! Into the fire’ part as Ymir’s feelings for Historia. Historia is like a fire, bright and hot, that lights her way and keeps her warm. ‘our worlds collide’, as in Historia being the Reiss heir and Ymir just being some random orphan from Marley. They both had such vastly different lives, and yet that all comes smashing together. Ymir then tells Historia that she’ll survive and make it out alive, and then it changes to ‘we’, Ymir telling her that they are both better than their circumstances, better than what the world tried to make them. Ymir includes herself into the argument that things will get better, because she has also been through the exact same struggles.

[Verse 3] Close my eyes and I see the fallen They threw the stones to make us go away It was only the face of anger and kindness It lit my way Ain’t no picnic to be abandoned It led us here. We had to share the pain Is it fate to be smashed to pieces? If you go we go together / For…

So, I’m not entirely sure what the first line is referring to. It could be when Ymir was at the wall, and she closed her eyes as people were being turned, but she could still see them in her mind. The next line is very obvious, though. Ymir was paraded through the streets, and what did people do? They threw stones at her. Why? To make her “go away”. Her and all the people in the cult. ‘Face of anger’ could refer to the faces of all of those people that condemned Ymir, whereas the ‘kindness’ is Historia. I think both are what fuel Ymir to stand so firm, the memory of those angry faces, making her refuse to let anyone decide her fate again, and then Historia’s beautiful, kind face that gives her love and hope, and makes her want to survive and fight.

[Verse 4] Now you are a part of me I will defend and honor thee Did you think that you could die a hero? Our awakening means less than zero!

Here Ymir asks Historia if she really thought she could die a hero. The last line could have two interpretations. One, their awakening, in the grand scheme of things, means nothing to their world and the people around them. Though their personal growth and bond is important, it isn’t so much for their situation. Two, their secrets revealed to each other changes exactly… nothing. Historia accepts that Ymir is a titan shifter. Ymir accepts that Historia is a Reiss. They both don’t even hesitate to accept the other and there is absolutely no hard feelings between them when the truth is revealed, because they’re both relieved to have it all out. So between them, the truth doesn’t mean anything. It’s just the truth.

[Chorus 2] Black sugar Keep it Up ‘till the dawn You’re the trigger Killer Eye of the storm! But if there’s no desire To get back out alive You’re a hero?

Black sugar… I had to google this. I assumed it was just black sugar, and it is. It’s a common ingredient in Asian cooking. It looks similar to brown sugar too and is healthier than processed sugar. Black sugar contains molasses, plus potassium, iron, calcium and other minerals. However, Ymir is not talking about actual black sugar lol. What this actually means, is addiction. Urban dictionary: “A specific brand of coffee or espresso that is so good that it can be compared to an addictive drug such as crack”. Now, my interpretation then is that Ymir is implying that she’s addicted to Historia, and she then proceeds to tell Historia to ‘Keep it up all night’, to keep being so alluring. Historia is the trigger and a killer, who completely owns her heart. Historia is the eye of the storm. Historia is an incredibly important character and important for the conflict that she is unfortunately right in the center of. She is a Reiss, and so there is a storm around her that Ymir is caught up in. When we get to the last bits, though, I get the sense that Ymir is trying to tell Historia that she’s addictive, dangerous, capable, important, but that if she has no desire to stay alive, she’s a hero? She’s telling Historia how amazing she is and how much impact she has, and mocking the fact that she thinks giving up with turn her into a “hero” when she’s already so awesome.

[Verse 5] Make a promise that I cannot regret As long as I can see you but in secret I’ll never I’ll never forget my feeling, no! I’ll never I’ll never Learn how to let you go

This promise is either when Ymir said they should marry, or the promise that they would live for themselves. What draws my eye is the word ‘cannot regret’. Ymir says she regrets that she could not marry Historia, not that she regrets that she asked her. It could very well be the other promise they made, but I interpret this to mean the proposal. The next line, though, also has me confused. If we go with the theory that this song goes in chronological order, then it feels strange to suddenly jump back into the past. If it is, then this could mean that they snuck around in secret to spend time together, however the ‘but in secret’ feels like a requirement, and Ymir doesn’t strike me as a character that would have wanted to keep her relationship with Historia secret. So whatever they do when they see each other, it needs to be done in secret, but why? Another theory is that perhaps this is indeed chronological. With that theory, that means verse 5 is Historia reading the letter. The ‘I’ll never forget my feeling’ part and the next parts, could very easily be from a still alive Ymir (in some form be it actually or through paths, whatever) or, switching to Historia’s POV following the letter.

This was really fun to cry about, listen to and analyze lol. If anyone has anything to add or correct, please feel free to! Let’s break these lyrics apart and figure out what’s really in them (besides just them being in love lol)

#yumikuri #yumihisu #zero eclipse #snk #ymir x historia

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tenorbox0-blog · 4 years

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Modifying the world will take heart.

The three years since hentai flash games's original release, I have thought about this nearly every day. Its luxurious style gracefully captures its own spirit of rebellion and breathes life to its own lively combat system. The evocative, slamming sound track perfectly encapsulates the e motion of every minute. The down-time spent Tokyo together with your pals delivers you nearer to all these, and invigorating your combat for what is appropriate. These properties feed right to some fearless story that unapologetically puts its foot down towards the injustices which signify our own culture. Even the extended version, free online sex games, brings the heat all around. But beyond an array of fantastic gameplay refinements and characteristics that improve an already-rich RPG includes a momentous fresh narrative arc hammered over the initial storyline and paid down in full at the end. 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#video games #video game #games #mobile games #android games #pc games #online games

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serenlyss · 5 years

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The Night is the Hardest Time to be Alive (And 4am Knows All my Secrets) Chapter 1

Rating: T for violence and character death (only in nightmares, though, no real death!) Pairings: Ritshou Summary: Ritsu doesn't sleep much. He knows it probably isn't healthy, but he avoids sleeping anyway, because if he sleeps for too long he starts to dream, and those nights are seldom pleasant. Luckily, he isn't the only one with a habit of staying up far too late. Crossposted to AO3

Chapter 2

"The night is the hardest time to be alive, and 4am knows all my secrets." - Poppy Z. Brite

So I really love the headcanon I've seen pop up about Shou just sometimes appearing at Ritsu's window unannounced and letting himself in, and I also love the headcanon of Ritsu staying up late studying/dealing with insomnia. In this case, the insomnia is caused by Ritsu's nightmares stemming from the World Domination arc and other traumatic events he experiences after awakening to his psychic powers. It gets a bit dark at places but I just wanted to write these boys bonding over shared trauma and being there for each other to help them heal. It was really fun to write and ended up turning into a three-shot somehow, so more to come! Hope you like it!

Ritsu doesn’t sleep much.

His brother knows, in vague terms, how Ritsu tends to stay up later than him, studying and working on homework. In his head, he knows it’s probably not healthy for him to run off of as little sleep as he gets, but he likes the nighttime. It’s quiet, peaceful. At the early hours of the morning, it’s almost like time stops completely. No meetings, no plans, no school. No stress.

He hums, setting his pencil down on his desk and stretching his arms over his head. The pencil rolls a few times before catching on the edge of his open math notebook, and he watches it with boredom. He’s working on problems that are a chapter ahead, figuring that if he has time to waste, he should use it responsibly, but the motivation is quickly draining from his body. He glances at the clock. It’s half past midnight, which is still early as far as he’s concerned.

Ritsu doesn’t sleep much.

He knows it probably isn’t healthy, but he does it anyway, because if he sleeps for too long he starts to dream, and those nights are seldom pleasant. Bad memories haunt his dreaming hours, turning innocent images into nightmares of his own creation. Sometimes he finds himself in the alley by his school, facing down an evil esper while his brother lays, unconscious, on the shattered asphalt. Other times he’s deep in Claw’s seventh branch headquarters, trying to drown out the panicked thoughts that tell him he’ll never make it out again. On the really bad nights, he dreams that he’s standing in a post-apocalyptic Seasoning City, one where Suzuki Touichirou succeeds in his plans to conquer them. In these nightmares, he stands over his brother’s lifeless body, beaten and mangled. There’s no one else around, just Ritsu, forced to stare into his brother’s tear-filled, blank, dead eyes.

Then, once in a blue moon, he finds himself in the top of a radio tower he’s never been in, only seen from the outside. He’s supposed to be down on the pavement, fighting Shimazaki, but instead he’s glued to the cracked tower floor, watching powerlessly as Suzuki Shou confronts his father for the first time. These are the worst nights, the one where he has to watch Shou’s father beat him into submission, where Touichirou brutally grinds his own son into the dust beneath his foot as he cements himself as the world’s strongest human being. Ritsu has no way of knowing how the events of their fight had really gone down, and Shou doesn’t seem keen on revealing it, but the dream always ends the same way. Touichirou pins Shou up against the wall by his throat, squeezes him until he can’t breath anymore. He watches as Shou squirms and gasps for breath, digging his fingernails into his father’s hands until they draw blood, but Touichirou never flinches, and Shou never gets away.

Ritsu stands, his feet glued to the cracked tower floor, as Shou falls limp and the life drains from his eyes.

On his desk, Ritsu’s pencil snaps. He jumps, startled, and as he does half a dozen small objects that had been suspended in the air falls with a clatter to the ground. He winces, realizing that his powers has spilled out in his anxiousness. He hadn’t meant to let his thoughts wander. He sucks in a deep breath, threading his fingers into his hair and leaning his elbows on his desk, eyes fixed on the faux wood beneath him. It’s only a dream, it’s not real, he reminds himself, but he doesn’t feel any better for it. He never does, despite how much he knows it’s true. When his dreams bleed into his waking hours, it makes them feel all the more terrifying.

He lets out the breath he’s been holding in a long sigh, pushing himself to his feet. He picks up the cracked pencil, dropping it into the trash can by his desk. Bent spoons were one thing, but he never could find a way to fix what he’s broken. Then he moves around his room and replaces the little things that had fallen to the floor in his brief explosion: a few books from his shelf, his water bottle, the case for his retainer. Then he moves to the window and cracks it open. His room feels too stuffy, too cramped. The fresh air comforts him somewhat, and calms the erratic thudding of his heart and head. He leans his forehead on the thin sill, letting the cold of it chase away any drowsiness he might be feeling.

“Ah, you’re still awake after all!”

Ritsu’s head jerks up in surprise, and he feels his whole body go tense. It takes him half a second to place the voice as Shou’s, the same time it takes for his gaze to focus on the redhead now hovering half a foot away from his window. He’s wearing jeans and a graphic tee-shirt as though it isn’t past midnight, his legs crossed in midair and his hands clasped over each knee. “W-what are you doing here?” Ritsu sputters, mind rushing to find any explanation for Shou’s sudden presence at his house. “It’s late, you know, most of us are trying to sleep.”

Shou just grins in response. “Well, obviously you aren’t one of them,” he points out, gesturing to him with an open palm as though that proves his point.

Ritsu blinks, glancing down at himself, and realizes that he’s still wearing his school uniform, minus the button-up blazer. He has a plain black tee-shirt on underneath paired with his black uniform slacks. He’s barefoot, seeing as he isn’t allowed to wear shoes in the house, but Shou can’t see his feet from where he’s floating. “Er, I’ve been working on homework,” he says, “but you didn’t answer my question. Why’re you here as ass-o’clock in the morning?”

Shou laughs aloud in surprise. “Dude! I’ve never heard you swear before! That was awesome,” he exclaims, and the glee on his face makes Ritsu’s cheeks warm with embarrassment. He floats right up to the window, grasping the sill with his hands and straightening his legs out below him. “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

Ritsu frowns. Shou still hasn’t answered his question. Was something wrong? “Uh, I guess. Just… be quiet, my parents and brother are sleeping,” he answers with uncertainty, backing up a step from the window as Shou comes a bit too close. He usually doesn’t mind when people get close to him, never having been a very distant person, but Shou’s acting just a little strange, and Ritsu isn’t sure what to think. He makes enough room for his friend to slip in through the open window, watching Shou lower himself quietly onto his bedroom floor.

Shou shivers, tugging his jacket a bit tighter around him. “Thanks, man, it’s cold out,” he says, slipping his hands into the pockets. He looks around with a calm but interested expression on his face, taking in Ritsu’s tidy bedroom. “Nice place. It’s cozy in here.” His eyes drift from the bookcase on the wall to the doubt bed pushed into the corner, then to the desk beside the closet. He takes a few steps toward it. “What kinda homework are you doing?” he asks, as though showing up in the middle of the night at Ritsu’s window was a completely normal occurrence.

Instead of calling him out for it, Ritsu just replies, in a voice that sounds partly dumbfounded and partly amazed at Shou’s comfort, “Math.”

Shou wrinkles his nose, peering down at Ritsu’s notebook for a moment before turning away. “Booring,” he accuses. “Why don’t you try doing something fun instead?”

Because it’s almost one in the morning, Ritsu’s brain supplies, but he doesn’t say that. He has a feeling Shou won’t really acknowledge it, anyway. “It’s due tomorrow,” he says instead. It’s a lie, if an insignificant one, but it’s easier to say than “Every time I try to sleep, horrible nightmares make me wish I’d never closed my eyes.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “I just don’t want to get a zero on my assignment.”

Shou hums, raising an eyebrow at this, and Ritsu doesn’t meet his gaze. He’s fairly certain his friend can see through his white lies, but if he does, he doesn’t bring it up. “Hm, still lame. It’s not like math is gonna matter once we graduate high school, anyway, right? Maybe you should just go to sleep.”

Ritsu’s stomach clenches, and he tries not to let it show on his face how much he wants to do anything but that right now. Especially not after his near-panic attack not two minutes ago. “No, I really do need to finish it. I can’t let my grades slip,” he insists, sliding back into his desk chair stubbornly. He reaches for his pencil, but his fingers find nothing to grab. Oh, right. He sighs, pulling open his desk drawer and pulling out a second pencil. “You can hang around if you want, I guess, but you probably won’t find anything interesting to do.”

“Whatever you say, you try-hard,” Shou says flippantly, brushing off Ritsu’s fabricated concern for his grades. He does another lap around Ritsu’s bedroom while the older boy re-focuses on his math work, then sits down on Ritsu’s bed when he’s seen it all. Ritsu still can’t figure out why he’s here, and it’s stealing his focus away from what he actually wants to work on.

Despite this, he eventually falls back into an easy rhythm, mind filled with numbers and formulas. The monotonousness of the work takes his mind off his nightmares and diverts his stress from something he can’t face to something he can. Doing math is much easier than facing the source of his insomnia, after all. He relaxes slowly, the tension fading from his shoulders and the knot in his stomach unraveling so he can process his thoughts again. He goes over the PEMDAS order of expressions on his mind, as a refresher. Parenthesis first, then exponents. Multiplication and division are easy, addition and subtraction are even easier. The simplicity of it is charming. Math never changes. Math isn’t complicated. You can do math the same way every time, and it will always work. Ritsu wishes there was something like that that could chase away his bad memories.

“What kind of math is this, anyway? I don’t think we’re even working on stuff this advanced yet,” Shou says from over Ritsu’s shoulder, and with a start he realizes that Shou has slotted himself into his space, his hands gripping the back of Ritsu’s chair and his face hovering half an inch from his ear. “I mean, I’ve only been back in school for a few weeks,” he continues, oblivious to Ritsu’s surprise, “but I know we’re not this far in yet. Your teacher assigned this?”

“Christ, Shou, you scared me!” Ritsu accuses, feeling heat rush to his face. His shoulders are very tense again now, his grip on his pencil tight, and he has to visibly relax himself before he ends up snapping two pencils in one night.

Shou stifles a laugh at this, as though his distress is somehow funny. “Sorry, sorry. You got into the zone so fast, though, I didn’t think you would actually forget that I was here. I’m just curious.” Still, there’s a hint of guilt in Shou’s gaze, and he backs off in response to Ritsu’s tense posture.

Ritsu bites his lip. He hadn’t meant to make Shou feel unwelcome. “Sorry,” he mumbles, glancing down at his desk. His thoughts are overflowing. “I think… I might be a bit of a mess.”

The confession slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He puts down his new pencil, running a hand through his hair and pushing it away from his face. I shouldn’t have said that, he laments, regret quickly replacing his guilt and then some. He leans back in his chair, gaze moving up and tracing the shapes on his popcorn ceiling. Eventually it tips all the way back, until he’s staring at Shou upside-down. He feels silly, but he doesn’t stop. It’s easier to look at Shou like this, when he feels like meeting his friend’s gaze will open the floodgates of things he isn’t sure he’s ready to put into words just yet.

Shou falls quiet for a moment, staring at Ritsu with an expression that isn’t easy to name. He looks somewhat surprised, eyebrows raised into tiny arches above eyes that are filled with the emotional weight of some sort of epiphany. His mouth is part way open, as though it frozen mid-word, but he quickly closes it, swallowing thickly. He breaks eye contact with Ritsu, suddenly very interested in the books on the opposite wall. “Yeah, me too,” he murmurs in the softest voice Ritsu has ever heard from the rambunctious teen.

The quiet empathy of Shou’s revelation is oddly comforting to Ritsu, reassuring him that he’s not the only one who feels like he’s barely keeping it together. He sits up, spinning around in his chair so that he’s facing Shou head-on. “Really?” he asks, leaning forward a bit too eagerly than he wants to come off. “I’m surprised. You always seemed so calm to me.”

“I could say the same for you,” Shou chuckles, tilting his head to the side as he looks at Ritsu. His light blue gaze is surprisingly soft, catching Ritsu off guard. He sits up a little straighter, sucking in a shocked breath, but as quickly as the moment starts, it’s over. Shou glances away, breaking the trance, and falls quiet.

Ritsu swallows, feeling as though his throat has gone dry. He blinks, taking a moment to let his stalled thoughts catch up again. What was that? His heart is beating noticeably again, but rather than feeling like he’s on the verge of panic, this feels… new. Exciting, almost.

“How’s school?” he asks, his voice coming out slightly breathless despite his best attempts as he tries to divert his own attention away from himself. “You’ve been going to Hanazawa’s school, since it’s close to your mom’s place, right?”

Shou nods with a thoughtful hum, leaning back on his palms from his seat on Ritsu’s bed. The odd moment is gone. “It’s alright, I guess. It’s, uh, kinda weird to be back in school after so long, though,” he admits. “My dad never really cared whether or not I ever went, but mom’s a different story. She makes sure I’m out the door in time.” He laughs softly at this, an easy smile coming to his face at the mention of his mother. Ritsu’s tries not to dwell on his mentions of his incarcerated father, focusing instead on the rest of his answer.

“Is it nice, living with your mom again?” he asks, curious.

Shou nods once more. “Yeah, it is nice. It’s hard, too, though. She’s always been really supportive of me, but I know she’s also kinda afraid of me, at the same time.” He leans forward, and doesn’t meet Ritsu’s gaze. “She gets uncomfortable when I use my powers around her, I’ve noticed. She never brings it up, but she gets this look on her face, like she’s scared I’m going to do… something bad.”

Ritsu frowns, leaning his chin on the back of his chair as he listens. “Why is she afraid?” he asks softly, hoping he’s not pushing farther than Shou’s willing to talk about.

Shou doesn’t seem annoyed or uncomfortable, though. “Probably for the same reasons why she left my dad,” he says. “She didn’t like the way he used his psychic powers to make other people listen to him. She was afraid he’d turn them on her, so she left before he could. I think she’s worried that I’ll turn out like him, even though she knows we’re not the same. I think it’s just going to take time for her to adjust to living with me again.”

Ritsu doesn’t answer right away, glancing down at the floor. He can’t relate to Shou’s dilemma, as much as he wants to understand what he’s feeling. “Is that why you came here?” he asks instead.

“I just… needed some space. Time to think, and figure out what I can do to assure my mom that I’m not the same as my dad is. Er, was.” He pauses for a moment, then reaches out a hand, sending tendrils of his aura snaking to Ritsu’s bookshelf. A book slides itself out of its nook and floats in Shou’s direction, hovering over his lap. “I inherited these powers from my old man, but there’s also plenty of stuff I got from mom, too.” The book opens by itself, pages flipping rapidly. “She wants me to grow up kind and gentle, with a good heart. So, even though I don’t really want to go to school, I’m going to go anyway, and I’m going to learn everything I can, so I can show my mom that I can be a good person.”

Ritsu cracks a smile, soft and sincere. It’s nice to see Shou have such earnest ambition again. “So you figured showing up at my house at one in the morning unannounced was the way to go, then?”

Shou laughs, to Ritsu’s relief, tipping his head back in amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be awake,” he admits. He runs a hand through his slicked-back hair, casting a sideways glance his way. “But, uh, I figured if anyone would be willing to put up with my nonsense, it would be you.” He swallows as he admits this out loud, breaking eye contact with Ritsu. His face flushes pink, for reasons Ritsu can’t determine, his fingers lingering in his hair for a moment before his hand drops back to his side.

Ritsu finds himself speechless, and not for the first time that night. Out of everyone Shou could have gone to, he decided to put his faith in him? “I dunno about all that,” he says after his swirling thoughts clear again, flipping back around in his seat to hide his own blush from Shou, “but I’m up late most nights, anyway. I don’t mind if you come keep me company sometimes.” His picks up his pencil and glues his eyes to his math textbook, as though if he stared at the numbers long enough it would dull the beating of his heart and cool the heat in his face. He hadn’t realized just how much trust Shou has in him, even after everything they’d gone through together to make it this far. It was simultaneously overwhelming and pleasing to Ritsu that there was someone who trusted him enough to confide in him about his struggles. Maybe if Shou could do it, Ritsu could too.

His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of Shou’s cell phone in his jacket pocket, which Shou whips out and frowns quizzically at. Then his eyes widen in horror. “Uh oh, mom noticed I’m gone. This is gonna be trouble,” he groans, holding the phone up to his ear.

Ritsu doodles absentmindedly in the margins of his notebook, trying his best not to listen in as Shou explains where he’s at and promises to come home soon. Their conversation is short and to the point as Shou assures his mother that he’s quite alright and hasn’t been kidnapped, and it only takes a few minutes for Shou to hang up again. He quickly stands up, heading over to Ritsu’s open window. “Gotta go, pray for me as I face my mother’s wrath,” he says in goodbye, clapping his hands together in a universal gesture of prayer.

Ritsu suppresses a snort of amusement. “Good luck,” he calls, turning to offer Shou a parting smile, but he’s already gone, cold wind blowing in through the open window and replacing the warmth he’d left behind.

Ritsu sighs softly, standing up and making his way to the window. He pokes his head out briefly, but Shou is already nowhere to be seen, presumably making haste to soothe his mother’s frazzled nerves. He slides the window shut again, turning the lock shut. Maybe he’d leave it unlocked from now on, at least until he decides to go to sleep. Then he walks back to his desk, sits down, and gets back to work on his math practice.

The clock reads one-thirty.

Ritsu doesn’t sleep.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #ritshou #fanfic #insomnia #emotional hurt/comfort #nightmares #let these boys be there for each other and comfort each other #this is going to have like 2 more chapters probably #how did this become a series #oh well #enjoy #serendipitousfics

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writingwitchly · 5 years

Text

A Potter never accepts a defeat

Word count: 1,8k

Warning: NONE OF THAT HERE, THANK YOU

A/N: For my gem wife, @beaubcxton. Darling, this is my idea of that special date they never got to have. I hope you like it, tho it’ll never be as good as anything you write, but the angel that is @hermione-who fixed it with her magic. @reggieblck calling you too, sweetie <3.

Pairing: Jily

***

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

He had kept trying, trying, trying.

He was on the right path.

***

The trees’ naked branches were perfectly still, the castles’ cavities as silent as the approaching Christmas holiday allowed. There was no wind, and thank Merlin, because James Potter was about to ice on spot, even inside the dormitory.

His eyes scanned the grounds, the earth muffled under the thick layer of last night’s frozen rain, and he smiled a goofy smile. He tore his gaze from the window, and swung around to get his muffles before sprinting down the wooden stairs. His hand grabbed the last newel post, almost ripping it from its place, to facilitate his change in direction as he zoomed toward the exit.

The common room was warm from the crackling fire in the chimney, the regular murmured conversations and ocasional laughs formed a pleasant buzzing. James thought that the place had never been this wonderful. But today, everything was.

“Where are you running to?”

Peter’s sarcastic question hung in the air, but it did not matter. Everybody knew the answer.

Caught in his excitement, James didn’t notice Marlene’s sideways smile as she shouted at him to right his glasses, nor did he hear Kingsley's imprecations as they nearly collided before the Fat Lady’s portrait. He didn’t laugh at Remus’ hot chocolate mug almost ending up on the floor as he suddenly appeared in the hallway, nor did he take time to stuck his tongue out to a very flustered Filch -- “No running in the corridors, you duke of limbs!”

In less time than it would have costed Sirius to enrage Professor McGonagall, James’ boots were drowned in the outside snow, his eyes frantic behind his glasses in search of a spot of color among the whiteness. A red spot, to be precise.

“Good morning Potter.”

She was to his right, a foot behind him, grinning like a four year old who’d just won a game of hide and seek.

His heart skipped a bit.

“‘morning Evans.” His tongue was as numb as the rest of his body.

The clarity around made her cheeks look like a rose’s petals, and James sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her red lips.

Her smile widened as she stepped forward. “You almost look decent today.”

He wanted to answer. Really. Something witty maybe. But he could have opened and closed his mouth a thousand times, nothing was going to come out of it.

Merlin, she was gorgeous.

Lily gently tilted her head, amused by the boy’s lack of his usual readiness. “Are we going to stay here for long? I’m becoming an ice cube.”

James shook his head, and premorously offered her his arm, making her laugh.

They began their stroll in silence, her looking at the sky in innocent distraction, him holding her as close as he could without being awkward. The way was empty, except for a couple of squirrels that seemed eager to follow them while rolling in the snow.

The temperature was not as low anymore, and the boy assumed it was because the sun was on its way to the roof of the sky. Or was it because of the growing heat on his face?

If she had been there to watch the scene -- which seemed to come right out of a Peynett drawing -- Euphemia Potter would have told her husband that ‘They look very much in love.’ After an amused look from Fleamont, she would have added ‘The squirrels, of course,’ and then hid her malicious smile -- the one Sirius had taught her -- behind her handkerchief.

But the Potter parents were not here.

It was just the two of them, on a date, finally.

James and Lily.

And the squirrels, of course.

“So, Potter...” He glanced sideways at her perfect profile. Her words, when out of her mouth, turned into graceful clouds. “Justify yourself for making me skip my saturday morning visit to the library when it’s below zero outside.”

The first draught of the day sent chills running down his spine. Or maybe it was her grip, tightening delicately.

James cleared his throat.

“Reading too much isn’t good for your eyesight, you know.” She couldn’t hold back a snort, one of those she used to offer him when he widely flirted with her, but she was ready to decline. Except this time she hadn’t. “It’s true! Plus, it’s not good for your mood, breathing book dust all day long. You’d turn into a red headed Moony. We don’t want you to wear unmatching sox and become addicted to chocolate, do we?”

Her laugh was a bubbly hint of spring in this early stage of winter. James could have sworn she sounded like flowers blooming.

“So what should I become addicted to, Potter?”

The mischievous glint in the green of her eyes was something that had only very recently appeared, in the last months.

He was going to fall back into muteness, embarrassed by what this question could mean. After all, he assumed that it was what she wanted: to have the last word.

But a Potter never accepts a defeat.

“Learned to be tricky, didn’t you?”

“Yes. From a real expert.” Hadn’t she been so close, James could have thought he’d daydreamed about her wink. “So?”

What could he do but smile?

“So you talk too much, Evans. I say you should make your feet work more and your tongue rest.” Lily raised her eyebrows, and her look followed the direction in which he was pointing. “See the bridge? Shouldn’t be more than thirty meters away. The last to get there is a-”

But she had already sprinted forward, ready as she always was to win a competition, the two squirrels trailing behind her with happy squeaking.

It took James a good fraction of second to stop gazing at the flames of her hair against the white landscape, and to move from his position. She had gained some advance, but he could make it before her easily.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

He felt the air burn in his lungs, his muscles awakening after a week without Quidditch practice, and the adrenaline shooting him forward like one of Dumbledore’s spells. He heard her broken breathing, some meters before him, and pushed harder on the ground, his boots making the snow creak like broken shell nuts.

He was not more than three meters away from her…

Her inhaling waves were stressed.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

Two meters…

She glanced behind her shoulder, and let out a high-pitched cry of surprise.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

One meter…

Anybody else would have surrendered, preferring to let their heart recover a normal beat instead of winning a stupid race.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

When they were just a few bounces away from the river, James gave one last effort.

But, right when he could have bypassed her, his legs slowed down, and a moment later she was perched on the first of the three stone stairs that started the bridge.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

But a Potter knows to choose the right victory.

Holding her ribs, bent in two, struggling to inhale any air in between her chuckling, she was the best view James had ever had the chance to see.

“Nice run, Evans.” He was quicker than her to stabilize his breath, obviously. His hair was ruffled, he pushed his glasses up with a finger that would have been all sweaty, in another season. “Let’s see if you can do it again, shall we?”

“Shut up, Potter.” She muttered. “You talk too much.”

He bursted in a loud laughter, and stepped forward to offer her his help.

Had the squirrels not been there, maybe nothing special would have happened that morning. But the little animals found themselves right on the spot where James’ feet was set to land, and he lost his balance in an attempt to avoid them at the last moment.

He was going to fall sideways, but Lily was fast in catching his arms, pulling him near her. They found each other nose to nose, close enough to inhale the same air.

James’ heartbeat had climbed up to his ears.

“Look.” Lily whispered with a shy smirk. “I’m taller than you.”

Her eyes were magnets that attracted his.

“Only because you’re on a step, Evans.”

This was his very breathless attempt to cool his nerves down.

There was a pause. They didn’t notice the icy wind anymore.

“I’ve dreamt of this for quite some time, you know.”

“What? Being taller than me?”

“No.” She leaned forward, and James’ mouth became incredibly itchy. “This.”

Her lips were as soft at the snowflakes that were falling from the sky, sprinkling their hair with Nature’s pureness. The skin of her face brushed against his, her hands getting lost in his hair.

He had dreamt about it countless times, inflicted his wild imaginations to his friends for years, depicted the most hopeful scenarios, but nothing of what he had pictured was worthy of being compared to this moment.

Eyes closed, James kissed her back, circling her waist with his hands, tenderly pressing her body to his. A cherubs’ choir had set up a grandiose show in his mind.

On the border of the path, the two squirrels had stopped chasing each other. Their little eyes were fixed on the young couple, their muzzles shaking, as if in approval. One of them even seemed to sketch a malicious smile.

James felt Lily’s cold wrists on the back of his neck, her smile against his.

It was evident that the snow was falling, now, that they should probably head back to the castle if they didn’t want to be buried.

But before that...

“What do you think about this, Evans? Want to withdraw your affirmation?”

He was referring to the time she had told him he was probably awful at kissing.

A lost sun ray reflected in her white teeth.

“I guess you’re an ok kisser, Potter.”

“I know r- What? No. No way. I am an outstanding kisser. You were just too amazed to realize it.”

Her hum of indecision got a smile out of him.

“I’m really not sure, Potter. I think you’re just average.”

“And I’m telling you, you’re wrong.”

“Oh, really. Then what? It’s my word against yours.” Lily whispered.

She was teasing him, and it turned his inside into a big knot.

He could have shrugged, rolled his eyes.

But a Potter never accepts a defeat.

“I say have the right to a second round, to prove you wrong.”

The squirrels turned their back on the river and sped toward their tree, leaving the place entirely still. The mass of clouds above them separated, letting the sun bath this white parcel of the world, the wind sat down, waiting to see.

As James’ mouth found Lily’s again, the winter seemed to hold its breath.

#jily #hpwriters #hpwritersnet #marauderseranetwork #umfleur #james potter #Lily evans #jily fic #jily fanfic #fluff #***writing

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