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leviathans-watching · 1 year

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om m.list ━ individual characters (bros)

[back]

lucifer

lucifer watching you sleep

reunion w/ lucifer

open affection with lucifer

lucifer x witch!mc

random texts with lucifer

your heart’s on my horizon - 1.8k

“And you don’t know what kind of curse?” Lucifer runs a hand through his hair anxiously. You stir slightly but still do not wake.

“We’ve got it narrowed down. Nothing too harmful, at least for demons, but the main concern is that we’re not sure how it’ll interact with a human. We’re just waiting for MC to wake at this point.”

Lucifer crouches down, examining your face closely. At least you don’t look like you’re in pain. Removing a glove, he presses the back of his hand to your forehead. It’s as he’s doing this that your eyes flutter open, taking him in.

“MC?” he asks panickedly, and Diavolo hurries closer, leaning over you as well. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m more than alright,” you say, sitting up. “Now that you’re here, Lucifer, I’m perfect.”

haunted & holy - 2k

“We’ll always be together, right?” you asked, clasping his hand softly.

“Of course,” Lucifer replied with ease, flipping your hand over so he could hold it for real. “Nothing in this world could ever take me from you.”

Oh, how those words played in his head when he fell, your tear-stained face the last thing he had seen. Your hand, reaching futilely for him, even as you were pulled back by several other angels.

can’t afford to lose you any longer - 2.3k

stepping into the hall, he clicks on mammon’s contact, holding his phone to his ear. it rings several times, but just as he thinks it’s going to go to voicemail, his younger brother picks up.

“lucifer!” mammon says. “oh thank god. i was just about to call ya!” mammon’s voice is loud, nervous. something is definitely wrong. why would mammon be calling him?

“what’s the matter?” lucifer asks, a bad feeling unfurling in his chest.

“it’s about mc,” mammon says, grave. “they got into an accident, and are in the hospital. i was gonna call ya sooner but satan said i should wait ‘till the doctor told us what was goin’ on.”

“what? mammon, what happened? are they okay?”

mammon hesitates. “they’re not in any immediate danger,” he hedges, and lucifer growls. “okay, okay. they’re in a coma, caused by the exertion of magical energy-”

“magical energy?” lucifer exclaims, but mammon barrels on.

“-but it’s estimated they’re not in any danger,” mammon continues, “we just don’t know when they’ll wake up yet. ‘pparently some lower-level dirtbags got brave due to your absence and decided to ‘purify the devildom once more.’” lucifer could hear the disgust in his voice.

mammon

playing pool with mammon

school play lead!mammon

“for you my dear? anything.”

getting overwhelmed by yelling/fighting

modeling with mammon | part 2

mammon with a chubby/fat mc

roller skating with mammon

mammon and sick!mc

painting a mural with mammon

dancing at the royal ball with mammon

rejecting nightbringer!mammon

meet-cute with mammon

It’s mammons bday again

swirl with mammon

mammon's birthday

random texts with mammon

selfish, for once - 18k

Mammon… is not what you were expecting. Instead of some horrific creature, you’re met with a pretty normal-looking guy, all things considered. Sure, he’s got horns and wings, but that’s it. Oh. He has abs, too. So horns, wings, and very prominent abs.

“My name is MC,” you say bravely, looking very intently at his eyes, which are an inhumane blue. “And I summoned you. I wish to make a pact.”

“A pact?” Mammon squawks, confusing you. “That’s what you were tryin’ to do?”

You raise a brow. “Yes?”

Mammon curses, slipping into the rough tones of the underworld. “A goddamn pact. Shit.” Shaking his head roughly, he fixes you with a hard look. “Hate to break it to you, Sweetcheeks, but you fucked up.”

“What?” You squint at him. “No. No way. I followed all of the instructions perfectly.”

“And there’s your problem. Whoever told you that was a pact spell was lyin’ to you.” Mammon seems genuinely distressed, and you feel very out of your element.

“Well then, what kind of spell was it?”

Mammon winces like he was hoping you weren’t going to ask. “It’s a, uh, binding spell. We’re bound together now. Our souls are, for a lack of a better term, intertwined.”

chaos causer - 10k

Alone for the holidays? Mad at your family? Hire me to ruin the night.

I am a human magic user that has recently had a lot of time open up to me with nothing to fill it. Why not use this time in a meaningful way? I asked myself, before dismissing the idea. I’m a young adult willing to pretend to be your date for any holiday dinner or party.

Thanks to my magic, I can play any age, except child (for obvious reasons), and have no problem changing my appearance as need be. I am a skilled actor and promise to sell my character well. Your satisfaction is guaranteed.

I revel in causing chaos and making things worse.

I require no payment aside from the free meal. This offer is available to anyone in any of the three realms, as I have experience dealing with an assortment of humans, angels, and demons. Do NOT contact me with unsolicited offers or services.

home is wherever I’m with you - 1.3k

"let’s get out of here,” you say one day, in the wake of an explosive argument between the brothers that left mammon nearly in tears.

“what?” he says, tilting his head towards you. “just- drive?”

“yeah. we’ll come back eventually, but let’s just go somewhere that’s not here.” mammon doesn’t look quite convinced, so you double down, pleading with him. “i’ll take all of the blame and everything. please mammon, i just want to explore some.”

“lucifer’ll kill us.”

“not if he can’t find us,” you say with more cheekiness than you feel, making mammon snort half-heartedly. “c’mon,” you wheedle, “just the two of us, complete freedom, no tasks, no chores-”

“fine,” mammon agrees, and you grin. you feel impulsive and wild, the wanderlust already taking over. “let’s do it.”

liminal spaces (in my heart) - .9k

you and a handsome stranger keep meeting in the oddest of places. mammon x gn!reader

Golden - 4k

“MC. I know you want to do something for Mammon’s birthday.”

“How do you-”

“All-seeing time lord, remember?” His tone held a note of humor. “Anyway, I have a plan. There is a car in the parking lot of the school, that has swimming suits, a picnic, and everything you’d need for the beach.”

“Diavolo’s?”

“Yes. Now, as a responsible person, I shouldn’t be suggesting you skip school, but I also know Mammon is deeply upset, and the sooner you head out the better. You will know the car when you see it. It is by the back of the lot.” Barbatos gave you a small smile.

When everyone forgets Mammon’s birthday you can’t let it slide. With the help of Barbatos, you take him to the beach for an afternoon that hopefully makes up for everyone else’s forgetfulness.

angry at all the things i can’t change - 1.9k | part 2 - 3k

ask from @/dexpairs-blog: Hi! If that’s ok could i request MC not hiding their preference for Mammon (in general, not just romantic), and when they’re asked why they say that they relate to him since at home they’re treated the sale say his brothers treat him and want to make him feel loved.

Five times you give Mammon the love and care he deserves and one time you make sure the other brothers get what’s coming to them.

levi

nervous!MC asking levi out

getting overwhelmed by yelling/fighting

playing scary games with levi

drinking with levi

misunderstandings with levi

levi’s fkn hot

levi's bday (yr 3)

satan

seeing snow with satan

domestic morning with satan

comparing now

spring walk

asmo

mc wanting to learn about asmo’s interests (fem!reader)

‘ruination’ with asmo

asmo x goth!mc • part 2

meeting asmo at the club

dancing with asmo

like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love

*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!

beel

beel with a mc who works out with him

beel concerned about mc’s appetite

mc not being scared of beel

getting overwhelmed by yelling/fighting

tipsy!reader telling beel you love him

beel winning you a teddy bear

seeing the sunrise with beel

giving beel candy

should have known better w/ beel

human world buffet

stupid handsome boys

“just stay with me”

love thy neighbor - 7k

Before the boxes can fully tip over, you feel the top one getting lifted, a tanned arm entering your vision.

“Whoah,” the stranger says, and you shift the boxes remaining, moving them out of your way. Without the box that had been on top, it’s much easier for you to get a handle on everything. “Careful there,” he continues once you’re finally able to see him, and you have to adjust where you’re looking because seriously, this guy is way taller than you expected.

Or, living next door to a demon.

belphie

belphie doesn’t like sleeping with you

showing him constellations

what might be memory feels like flesh and bone - 1.4k | part 2 - 1.1k

He was blinded by his rage, his grief, and the only person who had made an honest effort to help him out was you, you who he had so easily turned on once he had gotten what he wanted.

It was hard, Belphegor was learning, facing and owning up to his own mistakes.

He did not deserve your kindness.

Yet you offered it to him in quiet moments, and in soft movements.

And he could only comply, ensnared by the soft feeling of your fingers on his cheekbones, collecting any wayward tears.

#obey me #obey me game

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animesmutandpurefilth · 1 year

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Toji fushiguro/reader gun play

He’s so hot omg

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Toji knows you’ve always been a bit of a flirt, a brat, a slut as some would say. Especially at parties.

He’s protective but not overbearing. Dominant and territorial but not controlling.

It works perfectly for your little game. You pretend to be super into some random guy, sometimes even one of Toji’s coworkers, he’s got a bunch of hot ones, and just wait for him to get ticked off enough to shut it down himself.

He always does without fail.

It’s a silent game, you’ve never actually discussed it with him despite how many times it’s run its course, but it always yields the same results: Toji’s dominance. With that, his degrading tongue and his brat-taming nature.

He’s perfect.

And fuck, he’s all you can think about as you rest your hand on the racing heart beat of some random at this equally random party. You don’t care for either really. You're only here to mess with Toji.

“Wow, you’ve got a really strong chest, you must work out a lot.” You say in that shitty bimbo voice you love using at these scenes. Not even comparable to Toji’s build, you scoff internally.

“You think so, babe? You haven’t even seen the half of it.” The random flexes his biceps. “Why don’t we cut the chat and go back to my place?” It’s hilarious to you, almost as funny as the guys thinking you’re genuinely easy. You smile fakely and tap your foot impatiently, waiting for Toji to take his queue.

“And do what?” You flutter your lashes, “You gonna show me what you can do with all that strength?” You purr and his ego inflates tenfold.

With a drag of your freshly manicured nails along his arm, mind you that Toji paid for, the black-haired man storms over. He’s ready to shut it down.

He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and yanks you away from the other man, “Get over here.” He hisses through his teeth.

“Yo, I was talking to her, bro.”

“I don’t give a shit, you’re the third guy she’s preyed on tonight.” He growled, shutting up the other man and you smiled cheekily until he turned his glare to you.

“You wanted some attention, huh?” He said, dragging you away to a quieter spot. “Look at me when I'm speaking to you, brat. Now answer.”

“It’s true.” You say with falsely innocent eyes and a smirk lingering in the corner of your lips.

“Tryin’ get fucked by some other dick tonight, is that it? Tryin’ prove to everyone what a cocksleeve you are, is that it?” You melt under his words. You fall in love with the way he puts you in your place.

“And if I was?” You tease dangerously.

“I’ve got to teach you a goddamn lesson.” He grabs your wrist and drags you with him outside. He waits for a taxi before taking you back to his place, it’s your favorite. You never leave without stealing some article of clothing from him.

You walked around the kitchen before he snuck behind you and lifted you off the ground. He takes you to his bedroom and throws you on the mattress. It creaks under the weight of you being tossed on the bed. The sound brings back only lovely memories, Toji’s made sure you’ve become very familiar with it.

“You remember our safe word, Y/n?” He asks through his grinding teeth. He hasn’t gotten over your transgressions.

“Yes, sir.” You say crawling on your knees to get closer to him. He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger lovingly.

“Perfect. Now I can treat you like the cock slut I know you are. Everyone must know you are with the way you act.” He snarled.

He pulls your legs until they’re hanging over the edge of the bed, in the air from his grip on your ankles.

“I bet I don’t even have to prep you, just stick it in your slutty pussy.” He pulls your legs over his shoulders and smacks your thigh to hear you yelp.

He presses his rosy tip against your dripping entrance.

“I was right. You’re lucky, I’m feeling nice enough to fuck you stupid tonight. If I was mean I wouldn’t give you even a taste of what your needy cunt wants. You don’t think I’m mean, do you?”

“No, Toji, not at all.” You say shakily with tears forming in your trembling eyes, begging for him to fuck you already.

“You desperate whore.” He whispers and shoves his cock in all the way.

“You’re gonna learn that you're my fucktoy. You listen to me.” He raises his voice, making your cunt throb around him.

“Yes, yes!” You choke out and he slams into you. You’d be stupid to think he was fucking you for your pleasure. No.. not during a punishment, but it still feels so good. His thick cock stretches you out until you're molded just for him. Something about the way he calls you a dumb brat angrily as his heavy balls slap your ass with every rough, selfish thrust.

“Did you really think any other guy there could fuck you like this? Make you submit this fast?”

You babble out an unintelligible answer as he rams into your cervix mercilessly. He flicks your clit until your moans become louder and he continues asking for an answer all while calling you his stupid little brat.

He digs into his pocket at his pants hanging off his waist and pulls out his gun. The sleek black one that looks sexy as hell in his hand.

Your eyes roll back at the sight. Toji knows how to rip the best orgasms out of you.

The adrenaline makes your legs tremble, your lungs tighten and your heart beats only for him.

He presses the barrel against your pounding carotid and begins questioning you with his cock warming in your clenching walls and his tip resting against your bruised cervix.

“You think you deserve to cum? You think you even deserve to be fucked for the way you were acting?”

“No, Toji, not at all.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, I’m yours!” You yell as he slams his pelvis against your ass.

“Disobey like today, I’ll shove this up your cunt since you like it so much. Or even better, I’ll make you suck it like the slut you are. Maybe make you do that at those parties you like so much, huh? You’re getting tight thinking about that, y/n.”

You moan desperately as he continues to fuck you, harder and faster with the barrel staying pressed against your neck. You let out breathy gasps he loves. He uses you like a toy for his own climax, ruthless and unforgiving in his pace.

“Fuck!” He curses as he cums inside you with a twitch of his cock.

“You think you deserve to cum too?”

“No, no..” You mutter out what he wants to hear. He chuckles and swirls his thumb around your clit.

“Cum for me.” He demands and you do at his words with a scream and your vision goes blurred as your climax overwhelms you.

“What do you say?” He says and your legs shake uncontrollably.

“T-Thank you for letting me cum.”

He lowered his gun then set it to the side. “Alright, we’re done for now. Time for aftercare, pretty girl. I know you need it.” He wiped the tear away from your eye lovingly and you leaned into his touch. There was nothing in the world quite like being Toji’s favorite cock slut.

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hellmouth-manor · 5 months

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I'm going to walk into the ocean I'm so sad || Kamiya || Trial 4.4 || Re: A lot of people honestly.

It was hard listening to everything being said, silence on Kamiya’s part in between his own statements and a look of regret painted on his face. It hurt to know he had done everyone this much wrong, especially when his intentions had been nothing but good, at least in his eyes. It caused him to let out a deep breath as he looked over to Touji, trying to offer the smallest smile he could muster, it wasn’t a smile formed by joy, more acceptance.

“--Ya… Ya keep blamin’ her but I’m the one who killed first, man. She was scared, we all were. A person can only take so much fer that, yeah? It’s why she set up the trap. I’m the one who was too stupid t’ think b’fore leapin’ in this case. If I had done anythin’ t’ think fer a second, then I could’a saved them all. I-I didn’t stop t’ think fer a goddamn second about a plan t’ save ‘em that wouldn’t risk ‘em. When I saw ‘em there I just… I panicked, bro. I… Can’t speak fer anythin’ outside the trap, but she didn’t get me killed… I’m the only one t’ blame fer the shit I did, as unintentional as it was, bro.”

This all was heavy, and something which caused him to shake his head in response to his next question.

“I was alone. I ran off t’ find the first aid, ran all over the place tryin’ t’ remember where the fuck I could get it at. Ya can confirm with the demons that I was alone when I did that, I had t’ call ‘em t’ give me one. If I had remembered when I was by Mirai, then maybe… Maybe I could’a actually done somethin’.”

Then came Hibiki’s words, ones that caused his look of regret to only increase, the man who Kamiya viewed as his closest friend, like a brother to him in this case… It caused him to let out a laugh, devoid of any joy that he often presented, there was nothing to feel positive about in this case, he knew what he had done.

“...I haven’t lied once t’ ya bro, everythin’ I said is what I think happened. I don’t know how t’ make it more clear but… I haven’t been coverin’ fer Nono. If she did kill someone this is news t’ me… I really think Minami got killed by the shit I did somehow, I had no idea what happened. Ya saw how I reacted when she dropped dead there. I was just as fuckin’ confused as you guys were… B-But with Mirai, that one was me. I didn’t mean t’, but it was me.”

Then again, when someone was destined to fail the outfit of a hero would never fit, he’d always been afraid of ending up like this, someone who truly amounted to nothing in his life… Someone being disappointed in him wasn’t exactly a new feeling, but, someone who he cared about as much as he did Hibiki hurt even more than anything else, it caused him to nod along, frowning in response.

“...Be disappointed if ya want, man. But I haven’t lied t’ ya man. I haven’t covered fer her once in this, I just… I genuinely believe I’m the one who did all this… If ya hate me though, it’s chill. I ain’t gonna hold a grudge ‘bout this all, man.”

But, as Ruby spoke Kamiya turned his gaze toward her. She had every right to have this anger, this rage forming inside her, and Kamiya had no grounds to dispute that. It was a moment of silence on his part, before returning a gaze to her, a look of regret in his eyes as he nodded to her, fully accepting whatever she would do in the future.

“...When I’m a demon ya can beat the shit out of me whenever ya want. I ain’t gonna stop ya. I know what I did… I ain’t lyin’ an’ I know I hurt ya guys, I ain’t gonna ask fer forgiveness… I-I just… Don’t want ya guys t’ get hurt anymore, okay? Eli was there an’ saw everythin’ an’ if he’s… If he’s sayin’ I wasn’t there when Minami got attacked I’d believe him on that. I sure as fuck didn’t know, or, try t’ cover fer that though, I was the reason Mirai died though. I told ya guys we’d find the killer while we investigated, right? I… I-I was so confident I killed her, ‘s why I tried t’ lighten the mood ‘round ya guys too… I knew this would be hard, an’ I wanted t’ at least make some’a the final memories’a me alive not… This… But if yer angry, an’ ya wanna get back at me, I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

This all hurt, it was a heavy feeling in his chest, but, listening to Micah, then to Nike he shook his head, it was starting to get really tiring hearing one specific thing, one thing that everyone was so focused on this entire trial. And for a moment the endless patience that Kamiya had been showing snapped, he didn’t mean to raise his voice, but, in a moment of desperation it was important to make his voice heard.

“I. HAVE. NOT. BEEN. COVERIN’. FER. HER! DO I GOTTA YELL?! I’LL FUCKIN’ YELL IT AS LOUD AS I CAN. IF I’M WRONG IT’S NOT ‘CAUSE I’M COVERIN’ IT’S ‘CAUSE I’M FUCKIN’ STUPID OKAY? YOU ALL FUCKIN’ KNOW THAT!”

“She texted me ‘bout the trap, minutes before shit happened t’ warn me not t’ go there! That’s all it was! I rushed in an’ fucked up afterwards! I didn’t think! I didn’t think fer a goddamn second, I just wanted t’ get that trap disabled so that no one would walk int’a it! That’s all it fuckin’ is! I don’t know what happened to Minami! But when ya kill one person an’ someone else drops dead moments after it’s hard t’ not blame yerself! –Also! Lay the fuck off of Eli, ya know how fuckin’ much he went through there? I get yer pissed, I understand it! But get pissed at me! I killed Mirai, I didn’t mean t’ but I sure as fuck did that! Bro was just in a bad fuckin’ spot, an’ he’s tryin’ t’ cope, he lost people too, lay the fuck off him, please.”

Then came Alou’s suggestion, one that caused his eyes to go wide as he shook his head, deciding to be as blunt as possible about this all.

“I confessed t’ avoid anyone random dyin’. If anyone even thinks t’ do shit like that I won’t forgive ya, I’m serious on that. At the end of the day I’m a murderer, I genuinely do not know what happened t’ Minami, it could have been me, or, it could have been Nono. I really, really don’t know. Please just stop actin’ like I’m some villain, ‘cause I’m trying to do right by confessing. As I said, I already accepted I was gonna die, so, just please let me do one thing right in my goddamn life.”

#ch4 #trial #kamiya

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Two

A/N Little insight on Daniel’s friendships for chapter two :)

Daniel turned up the radio on his drive down to the beach, the summer wind blowing through his dark hair in the convertible and he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. It wasn’t unusual for him to visit the beach since the start of summer but, as he pulled up in his brand-new car, spotting his two best friends across the sand, he leaned on the horn. They glanced over, huge grins coming to their faces as they jumped up from the sand and rushed over to greet him as Daniel drove onto the sand in the lineup with a few other cars.

“Hot dog, Daniel! This yours?” Zach gaped, grabbing the side of the car to peer inside.

“Yep! Christian came back from college yesterday and gave me his old wheels.” Daniel said proudly, tucking his sunglasses into the neck of his shirt as he turned off the car and hoped out.

“She’s a beauty!” Jack tisked, running his hand over the shiny red paint.

“We’d have been the top guys in the school if you got this a year earlier!” Zach said.

“That’s true. Maybe you’d have been shoved in less lockers.” Jack punched his arm.

Daniel only smiled over at his friends as he pulled his surfboard from the backseat and they headed back to the spot that Jack and Zach had set up on the sand.

“Did you talk to your brother about the strawberry milkshake girl?” Zach asked as they all sat down in the sand.

“Yeah. He doesn’t want to help me though.” Daniel shrugged. “He said he’s going to be too busy at his new job.”

“Big deal! Zach and I got a job just down the street at the diner, but you don’t see us shutting you out.” Jack scoffed, resting back against his surfboard with his hands behind his head.

“Christian hasn’t found his soulmate either then?” Zach asked.

“Nope. He says he’s not interested in that anymore.”

“Probably just gave up searchin’.” Jack shrugged.

“I don’t understand how. I’m so excited to find my girl.” Daniel said.

“Nah, it’s not all rainbows and sunshine, bro.” Jack assured him, pushing his sunglasses down his nose to peer at his best friend over the top of them. “They know how to punish you once they got ya.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked hesitantly.

“His bird’s been eating all his least favourite foods ever since he called her fat.” Zach explained.

“Hey! I did not call her fat!” Jack snapped. “I told her that her dress looked tighter and she took it the wrong way.”

Daniel smothered his laughter behind a bitten lip and he looked down at the sand.

“Now she’s eating everything she knows I hate until I apologize and buy her something pretty.”

“So buy her something.” Daniel said. “You have a job now.”

“It ain’t that easy.” Jack propped himself up on one arm to look at Daniel. “You can’t let your chick have the upper hand. How’s that gonna look on me?”

Daniel and Zach both rolled their eyes.

“Honest truth!” Jack said in defence before flopping onto his back again in the sun. “She’ll get over it. Not like she can leave me. I’m her soulmate.”

“At least don’t make it miserable.” Daniel said.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get through his head!” Zach agreed.

The boys were silent for a moment, Daniel and Zach sharing small smirks and disbelieving headshakes at their friend’s ridiculousness. Daniel looked out to the ocean, the usual beach crowd dotting the blue waters of the Pacific and over the golden sand. He smiled peacefully and stretched himself out too, resting back against his surfboard.

“So what are you planning on doing then? Just going to hop from restaurant to restaurant until something lines up?” Zach asked him.

“I dunno.” Daniel shrugged, staring up at the blue sky. “I was hoping Christian could guide me.”

“What if you don’t find her?” Jack suggested, an idea that Daniel never liked to think about too much.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Daniel shut it down quickly. “I refuse.”

“But it could. 3 billion people on earth. She could be anywhere.”

“Jack’s right.” Zach agreed.

“You guys are not helpful.” Daniel tisked. “Maybe I’ll just chill at your diner with you and hope for the best.”

Jack and Zach exchanged silent glances before both looking away again.

“What?” Daniel frowned.

“She’s not going to fall on your lap.” Jack chuckled.

“Connie did with you.” Daniel argued.

“Because we were already dating and were really good for each other. We probably altered the universe or something to make each other our soulmates with how perfect we were.”

“Oh, sure, you lot are so perfect.” Zach laughed under his breath.

“Watch it.” Jack smacked his arm.

Daniel looked over at his friends with a smile before turning back to sky, lost in his own mind, “I’d know how to treat my girl right.”

“Don’t doubt it.” Zach agreed. “If you were any sweeter and more polite, you’d be a girl yourself.”

Jack erupted in loud laughter and Daniel only rolled his eyes at their teasing banter.

“And who cares about who has the upper hand?” Daniel said after a moment.

“Everyone.” Jack scoffed. “Your girl’s gotta respect you.”

“And you gotta respect her back.” Daniel added.

“Sure thing, bro.” Jack shook his head slightly, as if to just let Daniel believe what he wanted.

“What, so you’re saying you don’t respect Connie?” Daniel retorted, sitting up to look down at his best friend.

“I respect her just enough to get me some good back seat bingo after a date.” Jack winked, clicking his tongue cheekily.

Daniel rolled his eyes as Zach smirked back his laughter.

“Are we surfing now or not? I came all the way out here.” Daniel asked impatiently, tired of hearing about his best friend’s strange ways of treating his girl.

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses.” Jack grumbled, pushing himself up off the sand. He paused in a crouch, his eyebrows furrowing as his tongue grazed his lips as if trying to taste something before standing up with a disgusted shout. “Goddamn! This girl’s tryin’ to kill me!” Jack spit onto the sand almost too close to Zach who shuffled aside. “Tomatoes?! The worst food! I can’t take it!”

Daniel and Zach watched him rush off towards the water, both laughing at how his bare feet kicked up the sand and his angry shouts echoed over the beach.

“How do you like the taste of sea water, Connie?!” Jack shouted to nothing before plunging his face right in the in coming tide.

“This guy creates more problems than he solves.” Zach snorted as he and Daniel gathered their boards and headed towards the water after their friend.

#daniel seavey #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic #soulmate au #🍓#jack avery #zach herron

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themockingcrows · 4 years

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Companionship Through Circuitry Ch 7: Data

Bro/Hal THIS CHAPTER IS NOT SFW cw: voyeurism, masturbation

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942408/chapters/65171512

With a letter received, Bro's long standing questions about Dave finally get an answer, though it may not be the one he hoped for. And when the wasteland is quiet, and an AI is murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, what's a guy to do but respond...?

It was a solid week before Bro left that ramshackle town in the dust, debt repaid as he could get it, and blood spattered boots pointed North. On the off chance that he had mail, he checked in with the next town not far away, and poked his head into the courier station.

“Anything for Strider?”

“Strider?” said a short, gruff looking man as he sized up the long, lean figure ahead of him in the strange sunglasses. ...Eh. He’d seen odder things out here, surely. “Let me check.” A perfunctory glance at the post boxes, and he was heading around the corner to the mail bag, rummaging for bundles.

Bro tapped his fingers on the countertop idly. He didn’t expect anything, really, but it made it easier to pass the uncertainty by at least checking. Anyway, on the off chance he had something, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it anyway.

“Ah, yes, we’ve got something for a Strider. Ambrose?”

Bro felt his stomach tighten into a steel knot as he saw the thick envelope in the man’s hands, stamped URGENT in bright red letters, and addressed in Dave’s familiar handwriting. He felt light headed, and it took Hal’s eyes flickering in front of his own to make him focus again.

“Er, yes, that’s me. Sorry, was miles away there for a second. I didn’t… I didn’t think anything’d actually be here,” he said, not reaching for the envelope.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s here,” the man said, setting it down on the countertop for him to take. Ambrose stared at it as if it were a bomb before reaching for it, and tucking it into his shirt.

“Thank you kindly,” he said. For once, he didn’t have a letter to send at this station, having written his peace while healing before. He walked across the small town as if in a daze, taking in the sights and smells both pleasant and unpleasant till he found a run down building with a shop out front selling different locally grown items as well as procured items. Bro could smell the tobacco before he could see the cigarettes, and was already feeling around for caps to secure a few.

Why are you shopping instead of reading your letter?

“I’ll get to it,” Bro said, tucking most of the cigarettes away after bumming a light off the shopkeeper. It tasted musty, unpleasant, but it was better than nothing. Not enough, but better than nothing.

You’ve waited this long for a reply and you’re going to put it off? Hal asked, astounded. Aren’t you the least bit curious?

“I’m sober, I’m sore, I’m tired, I’m kinda hungry and my balls itch. Curiosity can wait its turn,” he muttered around his cigarette, more agitated than he could write off with simple annoyance at being pestered.

Truth was, he was terrified of the envelope that was burning a brand against his abdomen, stiff edged and fat with pages. Scared of every inch of paper that lay within. Scared of the still slightly uncertain way Dave wrote his name down compared to his own, as if it were foreign. He smoked till the heat of the smoldering end got too close to his lips, then flicked the entire thing down to the ground and rubbed it out beneath his heel. The last thing anyone needed out here was a fucking fire.

If you’re putting off reading your letter because you’re needing a drink, I’d recommend having the drink so we can read.

“Excuse me, did you just say ‘we’?”

Are you going to remove me when you read your letter? I’m aware already of what your situation is, more or less. I would like to know what he has to say, this Dave of yours.

Ambrose hesitated slightly, and sighed an exhale out through his nose.

“When I read it, I’ll leave you on. But keep your goddamn comments to yourself, you hear me? I don’t want an audio chorus goin’ on while I’m tryin’ to do everything.”

Consider my lips sealed. Hal was quiet for a moment before he probed once more, Are you excited about being closer to the goal?

Ambrose blinked. “How close are we?”

Another few days if we do a quick clip. A week if we go slow. Longer if we keep making stops.

“What about my current pace,” Ambrose asked, knowing he wasn’t as quick as he was pre-injury yet. That would take time. Healing always took time, the bastard.

Your current pace is just fine.

“Besides, should I be askin’ you that question?”

What question.

“If you’re excited. I mean, it’s your body we’re headin’ to right?”

If it is still in one piece, still in place, then yes. I’m quite excited.

“What’s the first thing you wanna do once you’re in a body?” Ambrose asked, glad to have the conversation change direction from the letter that still pressed against his stomach like a threat.

Slap you as hard as I fucking can, for various sundry reasons.

“Okay, dumb question. What’s the second thing you wanna do once you’re in a body.”

It would ruin the fun if I told you everything ahead of time, Hal said coyly. Wouldn’t you just like to know?

“What’s your body gonna look like, anyway? Gonna be all jacked, bigger than me? Big as a mutant? Lift cars over your fuckin’ head?”

Most likely my body will look like a normal humanoid. The specifics are uncertain to me, I’ve never been inside of it to my knowledge.

“...If it sucks, there’s always the Furb-”

I hate that thing, and I hate you.

Bro smirked. “C’mon. It’s useful and you know it.”

I’m aware of what you’re doing now. There’s no fooling me. Open your letter, Ambrose.

The smirk died on his lips, and he ran a hand through his hand, fingers scritching at his scalp, dislodging little bits of dust that clung to the tips from walking the road. He patted his shirt, felt the outline of the envelope… and instead of pulling it out, turned and walked out of town, due North.

What are you doing?

“Travelin’, what does it look like?” he asked. “Wanna make good time, so you can go ahead and slap me.”

Do you mean to put off reading your letter till I can physically force you to open it?

“Nah, I ain’t gonna wait that long. I just don’t think I could sit still any longer. I’ll read it tonight, once I’m settled down.”

...It’s not a bomb, you know. It’s just a letter.

Ambrose rolled his eyes as he walked. “I know. Like I said, I’ll read it tonight.”

Yet, that night came, and he didn’t read it. Nor did he read it in the morning as he ate a cold can of beans, nor as night fell the second night. Instead it remained in his shirt, beneath his folded hands as Ambrose rested by the fire, preparing to go to sleep with Hal perched on his face. It took four days before he finally took it out of his shirt by the firelight and carefully opened it with his pinky finger, ripping the paper as cleanly as possible.

He unfolded the paper and clenched his eyes shut instinctively, unprepared to read what it said.

...It’s okay, Hal said. Open your eyes and read, Bro.

“I am, gimme a second. Eyes were dry,” he muttered, blinking exaggeratedly a few more times before glancing over the paper, rubbing the side of his head as he did so. ...Hal was right. It was okay.

While not filled to the brim with excitement at hearing from him, and not dripping with praise or familial love, there was a pleasant rapport contained within. As well as an apology for not writing sooner. Apparently he’d secured a second job where he lived and was saving caps. It was rough work, but he wasn’t just another body there. He had responsibilities, long shifts, and then long periods of having fun and exploring the new neck of the woods he lived in.

Bro was swept into Dave’s world with not just words, but pictures. Within the envelope had been shoved several carefully done drawings, some highly detailed and some cartoony and shittily drawn with his other hand to get the point across and throw a gag or three in. They earned a chuckle, and a smirk. Kid was improving. The last page of the letter said he would be checking for mail like usual, and would be trying to write ahead of the curve as Bro predicted, judging by his path.

...And that was that. No condemnation, but no forgiveness either. No comments on his near death. No questions in return. Bro scanned the pages twice more before setting them down and patting the ground with his fingertips.

Was it not what you were hoping for? It seemed pleasant to me, Hal said. Your spawn is talented.

“Mm. Yeah, he is.”

You didn’t answer the question.

“I guess I just.. Expected more,” Bro admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get a reply, now I’ve got one. And he didn’t address any of the shit I brought up. Does that mean he’s still pissed at me?”

People don’t tend to spend money and time and effort mailing people they hate, pointed out Hal. I believe your assumptions are incorrect. An option is that he is still processing everything you said, but didn’t want to remain silent.

The iron knot in Bro’s stomach finally, blessedly, began to unwind its barbs from within him in relief. That was a theory that was believable. Maybe it was just him being overly hopeful, but he needed that hope right now.

“Maybe.”

If things were as bad as they seemed, as well, this could be a way of building a relationship with you.

“Are you programmed to be part therapist? The fuck, a guy gets one letter and suddenly it’s time to play psychologist,” Bro murmured, grunting as he rolled towards his bag and rummaged for paper and pen.

Writing back already?

“Yeah. Gonna keep it up, if it’s not gettin’ on his nerves. Won’t write this one as urgent, though. Give it time to get there. After all, should be pickin’ up at the next station after gettin’ your body and heading back.”

Back?

“Yeah. Back home.”

With you?

“Who else? Got big plans once you get your body aside from knockin’ me into next Tuesday?” Bro asked, pen flicking across the paper as he began to write.

Hal didn’t respond right away. Instead he watched Bro write for a few minutes before speaking again. Are you asking me to go home with you?

“...Well. Yeah, I guess. If you wanna be formal about it.”

Why.

Of course he wanted reasons. Bro wet his lips briefly.

“...Becauses I think travelin’ with you is alright, and I imagine it’d be more fun once you’re not sittin’ on my face,” Bro said, slowing his writing to a pause before doodling in the margin, aimless shapes as he thought. “Because I think I’d actually miss you, if you took off once we got that far, after all this shit we’ve already been through.”

You like me, Hal stated rather than asked.

“...Yeah. I like you.”

You wish for me to remain with you.

“Yeah.”

...Once I get my body, would you touch it?

Ambrose blinked. “...Uh. Maybe.” So he knew about that kind of shit, did he? Made sense, to a point.

Why not yes?

“It’d depend on what you wanted,” he admitted awkwardly. Was he being propositioned by an AI? That was a new one. “Rule number one of havin’ bodies: you don’t go touchin’ ones that don’t belong to you without permission.”

Would I have permission to touch you?

He had to think for a moment. Would he be down for that? With a bot? It’d be weird, considering he didn’t know what kind of body they were going to be working with, but he supposed there was always a possibility for adjustments and customization as needed moving forward. Surely the body hadn’t been designed with that kind of functionality in mind, but…

“Yeah,” he decided. “You’ve got permission to touch me.”

Hal’s eyes flickered into his field of vision again, blinking slowly a few times before fading out.

I’m not certain how to touch you, when the time comes. I require data.

“You propositionin’ me?” Bro asked with a slowly spreading smirk.

I would prefer to know what to do when I’m able to do so properly, Hal explained. Then, again, I require data.

“And if I give you data tonight?” Bro asked, pushing his letter away and rolling to his back. “What’s in it for me?”

A better time when I have my body, since I’ll be able to touch you myself.

“You never said if I’d be able to touch you back,” Bro pointed out, reaching down to undo his belt buckle. “And mind keepin’ an eye out while we handle this?”

You will be safe, promised Hal. ...And you have permission to touch me.

“Two dudes touchin’ each other. Sounds gay,” hummed Bro as he flicked his pants open enough to slide a hand in, giving himself a feel and a gentle squeeze to start warming up. “So what kind of data you want, specifically?”

I want to know how best to touch you, Hal explained. The data I require would be how you enjoy being touched.

“Wanna be the best at touchin’ be, huh?”

You could say that.

Bro moved his hand steadily a few times till he was settled at half mast, then shimmied his pants a little lower, freeing himself to the cool night air. He glanced down, and was amused to see Hal’s eyes flicker into view again, this time not fading away.

“Gimme a second, it’s not quite there.”

It’s already pleasant to look at.

“Remind me to teach you some dirty talk, dicks aren’t pleasant to look at,” snorted Bro, continuing to work his fist till he shivered and finally rested at full size against his own palm. “There we go..,”

I take it you’re giving me the data already?

“Yep. Take notes. Slow to warm up, but once the motor purrs it’ll go all night,” Bro hummed, closing his eyes. He’d done this thousands of times in his life, but rarely with an audience, and certainly not one in recent memory. Fuck it’d been a while. He remembered to keep his chin down so he’d be in view of the shades properly, letting Hal look to his heart’s content as Bro’s fingers played over his length familiarly.

Tell me what you would do to me, once you’re able to touch me, Hal said softly, voice a purr from the shades. Bro smirked a bit, enjoying the sound as he closed his fingers into a fist and began to slowly pump himself. Though he was still a little uncertain of the specifics, it was easy to think of how he’d behave with a human partner. Might as well just proceed that way mentally, and figure out what was different when the real thing was on display.

“Well. Let’s see… Prolly warm you up with a bit of kissin’ first, some hands on explorin’ to see what you had to work with. Then I’d run my hands along your body, make sure you felt every inch of me on your skin,” Bro said with a relaxed sigh. Fuck, this was something he’d needed for a while it seemed. A bit of tlc and privacy. ...Well. somewhat privacy.

And if I were beneath you?

“Want me to pin you down, huh?” he asked, fist moving a bit quicker as his mind played out the scenario. “Well. Prolly already warmed you up so you’d be ready for me, by then. Work you open nice and easy till you’re beggin’ for it, bite your neck while I slide on in. Get those thighs nice and far apart for me. Keep on goin’ till I’m good’n deep.”

There was no clarification on Hal’s part about how that might not work, about how he might not be compatible. Instead, there was a soft beeping coming from the shades, like a pulse monitor going off, faster than his own heartbeat.

And if I were begging for it, by then?

“I’d let you have it. Mostly,” Bro said, working his fist a bit faster, but not going all the way down. Instead he fisted the top of his length and went about halfway down, squeezing more towards the middle before working back towards the tip. “Probably work you over with about half of what you got a taste of, before goin’ any further. Make you really lose it before hammering ya.”

The pulse beeping sped up again, a constant pace in Bro’s ear, and he adjusted his own hand to go along with it, hissing softly under his breath as he started to work his whole length again.

And if it were me touching you, like you’re touching yourself right now? If it were my hand instead of yours? Would you find that pleasant?

“Long as it was warm,” Ambrose chuckled breathlessly, unable to help himself but go quicker. It’d been too long, it felt too nice, and with his imagination running wild there was too much fuel feeding the fire. “You’d need a firm grip, I like that most. More towards the middle than the tip. And nice even strokes…”

I think I preferred to imagine you inside of me, to the touching, Hal said suddenly, the firm pulse beeping seeming to mimic Bro’s pulse now that he was letting himself have what he wanted. You said before the engine could last all night. Would it do the same with me if I wanted it?

“Till you were walkin’ funny the next day,” Bro promised, gritting his teeth slightly. It felt too good, it was warm, the voice in his ear was still a purr and his imagination was filling in all kinds of gaps. He just hoped the real deal wasn’t a letdown compared to his lofty imagination.

Come for me, Ambrose.

That did it. Bro let out a soft sound and tensed, shielding the tip of his dick with his opposite hand to catch the mess for easier cleanup. The pulse sound slowly settled in his ear before disappearing entirely, leaving him with the sounds of the wasteland in his ear instead. He opened his eyes finally and saw Hal’s blinking at him before they flickered out of sight, leaving him with the night view from behind the shades as usual.

He exhaled another sigh and sat up to clean up.

“I think I needed that. Been feelin’ pent up for a while,” admitted Bro.

Would you enjoy doing that with me more often?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like doin’ that with you, it was nice.” Bro felt, briefly, like he was finishing a date up. There was no second cleanup, but it did make him wonder… “Is there anything I can do while you’re like this to make you feel nice?”

Feeling doesn’t really occur in this state. The closest would be electricity, and that could be dangerous for my stability.

“No electrostim then, got it,” he chuckled. Bro took a glance towards his letter once he was cleaned and tucked away, and shook his head, tucking it back into his bag. He’d work on it tomorrow, the mood was definitely not there right now. Not after that. “But there’s nothin’ you’d like, nothin’ I can do?”

Just speaking with me is good. I’ve recorded data fo-

“Recorded? You just mean data-wise, right? Not actual recording, right?”

Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies.

He guessed it was fine, if Hal recorded him jerking off. Not like there was anyone to share it with, and even if there was, he’d be able to write it off as being narcissistic to a point. Record himself to use for getting off later. ...Okay, now the idea was intriguing to him. He’d have to see if Hal would allow him to see video files sometime…

I’ve recorded data for the future, when I have my body. I would like to use that data once I’m accustomed to the controls.

“You propositionin’ me again? Want a hot date once you’ve got your own bod?”

Yes! I want to experience what I’ve learned first hand, and see if all of your talk is as good as it sounds.

“I can promise I’m not just talk. I can’t promise I’ll be able to do all that to you right away,” Bro warned. “But we’ll see what we’re workin’ with soon enough, I suppose.”

If I lack genitalia will you make me some?

Bro was quiet for a minute, just sitting there, trying to think of what in the world he’d gotten himself into. “You want me to make you a dick if you don’t have one.”

Yes. I want to use what I’ve learned, and that is what I’ve learned with.

He reached up to rub his eyes beneath the shades, just holding his face for a moment before sighing. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Right. Uh.. sure. I’ll try to figure out how to do that, if you’re needin’ something. We’ll figure it out.”

I can’t imagine my body is a tin can, Dirk was working with advanced technology. Surely this will work.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. You’re lucky I ain’t got nothin’ against bots.”

Robosexual.

“...Sure.”

They sat in an easy silence for a while, the fire flickering and Bro watching out over the wastes. He felt more relaxed than he had in ages, despite part of his mind now focusing on how to built a robotic dick that had some kind of feedback function. There had to be some kind of research with bots, with ‘droids, that had that kind of functionality. Hell, might even turn into a side business: sex modifications for droids and bots.

That’d make for a hell of a letter to Dave. Actually, so was telling him in general about Hal coming home with him. He could hear the teasing already.

“Hey. Hal.”

Yes.

“Do you want me to tell Dave about you comin’ home with me?”

Of course.

“Or would you rather write him yourself, once you have your body.”

Hal was quiet for a moment. You would entrust me to write to your spawn?

“Yeah. If you stop calling him my spawn. I think he’d like to get to know you, once you’re not just sittin’ on my face, and I don’t think I can easily mod to Furby to hold a pen.”

If you even tried, I’d zap you immediately.

“See, can’t even if I wanted to,” Bro said, lifting his hands upwards and shaking his head, giving a shrug. “My hands are tied by the system.”

Bro.

“Yeah?”

...I’m actually quite excited, to get my body. Not just for the reasons we discussed so far tonight. I’ll finally be able to see what Dirk left for me.

“...If it’s not there, we’ll figure somethin’ out,” Bro promised. “And if it’s damaged, I’ll do my best to figure out how to fix it.”

I’ll be able to run diagnostic scans once I’m able to connect, I should be able to tell you how to fix things, or even fix them myself. But Bro, I wanted to ask a favor.

“Yeah? What, aside from beatin’ my meat, do you want me to do for you?”

I would like to find other vaults, before we return to your home.

“Vault huntin’, huh? What for?”

I need to find other instances of Dirk’s work.

“You got it. We’ll hunt down whatever scraps of him and his work you need.”

It felt easier to promise than Bro assumed it would. It felt genuinely good.

#Bro Strider #Lil Hal #Homestuck #my fic

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packsbeforesnacks · 4 years

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A Case of the Moondays || Noah & Winn

TIMING: Monday, February 3rd, 2020, Evening LOCATION: Main Street Arena PARTIES: @noah-kalani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn scents a boy on the first (not) date. Noah growls. WARNINGS: Boners.

Winn wasn’t a cruel coach.

He’d run the boys ragged on Tuesday, sure, but cancelling Monday’s practice was what a good bro would do — partly because teenagers couldn’t handle their baby hangovers, and partly because he knew they’d be behind on their work and could use the time to catch up. (Would they? As if. But never let it be said he didn’t try.) If he were in their position, he’d be nominating himself for Coach of the Year for that show of sympathy.

There hadn’t been too much carnage from the party, other than some (overly) concerned moms calling him up and asking why on God’s green earth their little Timmy had taken even one sip of the devil’s water. But Winn had spent half his lifetime charming the pants off of mothers, who were all too eager to forget his “transgressions” when they met his pearly whites and warm handshake and “aw, shucks, ma’am, those wily teens” routine.

He’d spent his afternoon meeting four or five moms at one of the back tables in the Arena’s bar area, and each came out of the meeting with a glowing review of their son and an afterglow from the thrill of talking to Winn Woods: Lady Killer. They didn’t need to know he wasn’t strictly bangable; it was like crushin’ on the pool boy. Would never happen, but it was nice to let ‘em dream. But, God, he needed a fuckin’ drink, and he knew exactly what twink to hit up.

He fired a text off to Noah and ordered the first of (hopefully) many drinks. The bar was dead on a Monday, so Big D was more than happy to make his tips off Winn’s wallet, and Winn was more than happy to talk to a pretty (if, and this was a goddamn shame, unattainable) face. Worst case scenario, Winn would have to lean into becoming the newest barfly.

It was safe to say Noah Kalani wasn’t exactly known for his “good ideas.” No, Noah was usually the first person you’d call when you needed someone with unprecedented durability who wouldn’t ask too many questions.

So, when the text came in from Winn asking to redeem the ‘one free shot between friends’ coupon that had been extended that weekend during the Super Bowl, Noah fired off a “sure thing” before even stopping to think about it. And, normally, he wouldn’t. It was just two bros doing bro stuff, after all. (Right? Yes, right.)

But this week there was a catch that made everything all the more difficult for Noah. Because this week was a full moon week. And maybe for a normal wolf that wouldn’t be such a big deal, but for someone like Noah? Well. He could feel it in his chest. The ache. The urge. The need to just fucking hit something. Not to mention he was already bracing himself for the immense change he was going to experience this weekend having a shapeshifting supernatural organ that was trapped in a body that wouldn’t, no couldn’t, accommodate it. But it was too late to think about that now, his body propelling him towards the only other lump in this bar.

“Hey.” Noah nodded Winn’s way, sliding onto the barstool next to the other man. And it was weird, how something about looking at Winn made Noah calm down, his (interesting?) scent soothing his already oversensitive nose, quelling the wolfy-ness lingering underneath his fragile human skin. “Soooooo I don’t usually drink on Mondays, but I did promise you a shot. So, here I am.” He flashed a cheeky smile at the other man.

Noah wasn’t taking forever to get over to the Arena, but it was long enough that Big D had started passing Winn glasses to dry off, ignoring Winn’s protests of “I am a paying customer” and cartoonishly mumbling something about kids these days having no respect for their elders.

His protests, as Big D knew from the weeknights after practice that Winn whiled away sitting at the bar and beating his head against his readings for class, were mostly token. There was an unspoken agreement between the two: Winn could loiter if he helped out occasionally, and Big D wouldn’t bug Winn once Winn got in the zone. After all, it wasn’t as if Winn had any place better to be.

Winn’s ears perked up a bit as he heard the mechanical whoosh from the glass doors, Noah bringing in a rush of midwinter chill with him as he entered the Arena. Something tickled Winn’s nose as he handed the last of the glasses to D, but he mentally shrugged it off — weird smells popped up in White Crest all the time, and, as he reminded his furrier half, Winn couldn’t chase down every mail truck.

Noah slid in beside him, making a token greeting and beaming at him. “Nice to meetcha sober, Noah. I don’t try to get smashed on Mondays, but a cooldown beer? Yeah, I fuck with that.” Winn laughed, a small rumble at the back of his throat, and clapped a hand down onto Noah’s back. “But you did say shots, and I hold a man to his word. What’s your poison?” He gestured broadly to the alcohol behind the bar — a pretty standard collection, as far as Winn’s experience went, though there was a bottle of Maker’s Mark near the top shelf that was calling his name. He had some manners, though. Boy buying the shot gets to pick the booze, least as far as the first shot went.

“Well, I guess by proxy I’m fucking with that too today.” Noah threw out with a smile, eyes already scanning the selection of alcohol behind the bar. He wasn’t a fancy drinker by all means. No, Noah was more of a “what can I get the most of for the least amount” kind of dude (his drink of choice could usually be described as piss water, but people his age rarely drank for the taste right?).

But Winn though.

Well, Noah scanned the other man for a few seconds, trying to figure him out. He didn’t look like he wouldn’t be able to hold his own with some ‘piss water’ of his own, but something inside Noah screamed at him to make a better choice. And maybe it was the fact that Winn was older than him that sparked this internal struggle, or maybe he just needed to grow up and order something nice for a change. Either way, he waved the bartender down, mind made up.

“Can we have two shots of Tito’s for starters Big D?” he asked, figuring vodka was a respectable choice for a shot, especially since it wasn’t Tequila. “So, what’s happened with you since I last saw you, like what… 24 hours ago?” Noah asked with a smile as he watched Big D pour the shots and slide them over to the pair.

“Aw, shit. Fuckin’ Tito’s? I haven’t had a swig of that in a minute. Solid choice, bro.” If Winn was being completely honest with Noah, he’d admit that he hadn’t had a shot of Tito’s since the last time he’d done body shots or, more accurately still, the last time his body had been used for body shots. Much as he felt no real shame for his days being the vessel for many a packmates first “legal” drink (was there a better way to ring in being legal than drinking a shot off your bro? no, there was not), he got the impression from his one-and-a-half interactions with Noah that that revelation might fry the younger man’s brain.

He paused as Big D slid them their shots, glanced at Noah, winked, and threw back the shot with practiced ease. Becoming a werewolf hadn’t fucked too much with his alcohol tolerance (if anything, Winn could hold his liquor better), but his enhanced sense of taste meant that the booze would always burn, just a little, even if it was the smoothest shit this side of the Mississippi.

He smacked the shot glass down on the counter, earning a glare from D (one time he’d asked, “What are you doing, kid, tryin’ to shatter them? Fuck’s sake.”), and considered Noah’s question. “Felt bad I didn’t have much time to chat last night, man. But I chaperoned this party, swiped some choice barbeque from another party, and then passed out in a food coma. Pretty lame, right?” He snorted. “Oh, and then today I got lovingly chewed out by the local MADDs for not keeping a laser sight on their sixteen year olds. I mean, I don’t know about you, man, but they’re lucky their kids aren’t more like me when I was their age. And, hey, least they’re involved enough to know when their kids’ve been drinkin’, I guess. How ‘bout you, dude?” He leaned his head lazily on his hand, eyes bright and attentive (he hoped) on Noah.

Noah couldn’t help but beam slightly at Winn’s praise. Even for all his hesitation, his choice was apparently paying off. Maybe this was a sign he should get the good stuff more often? Or at least he should buy Winn the good stuff more often. That is, if they were going to make this a regular thing… God he hoped this would be a regular thing.

Focusing on the shot set before him, though, Noah almost missed the wink that was aimed his way as the older man threw back his liquor, his motions taking a slight pause. It wasn't like this was the first time a man had ever winked at him (no, he’d been winked at a BUNCH of times) but this was the first time that… Well, it felt weird. But good? In a way that didn't make a whole lot of sense to him at the moment. Which was probably why he should just take the shot and go on with his life before he overalayzed it to death. Okay. Okay.

Downing the liquor in his glass, Noah placed his down (albeit more getly) next to Winn’s, waving at Big D. “Two more please,” he grunted out, the burn still tickling the back of his throat. “Don’t worry about it, dude,” Noah said with a playful shrug. “Sounds like you had a busy night, and a full belly. The lamest of lames.” It was punctuated by a smile, one of his nicest and most genuine ones. But it didn’t last long as Winn started talking about his experiences with the mothers of his players.

“Ooooohhhhhh yeaaaah, that sounds rough,” Noah started as Big D placed the second round in front of them, “but looks like they didn’t cut you up too deeply.” He nudged the other man as he took the second shot and downed it. “Been alright. Floated around to a couple parties after you left with the boys. Went to work this morning, helped the vet cut off some balls. You know, the usual.”

“Haha, yeah? They couldn’t withstand my charm, clearly,” Winn said, dry as a desert. He had to admit… It was nice to just grab a drink with someone again. Sure, he had friends… or, at least acquaintances. Blanche, for sure. Ricky, though not for nearly as long and… well. Miles was a wolf, so they were bros for life, obvi. But Blanche couldn’t go out to bars yet (and, ‘sides, she’d probably think he was uncool to hang with?) and any hangout with Ricky could be (mis)interpreted as a second date and he didn’t want to make things weird. Miles… Well, he seemed, like, busy?

Noah was a new face, and a chill one, and he was buyin’ Winn a second shot, so, y’know, no complaints. Winn downed that shot, licking the residual vodka from his lips before he started again. “You make it over to Ricky’s at all? ‘S where I got the ‘cue. Ricky’s got some great meat.”

He inhaled deeply, something catching on the back of his throat. His eyes darted for a second to the sliding doors, but, no. No one had come in. Exhale. Somethin’ was buggin’ him. It was the same smell that Noah had carried in with him, he thought? Another subtle inhale through his nose, trying to both pay attention to whatever Noah was sayin’ and run through the possibilities in his head of where the smell might be coming from. Or what it was, even. His eyes flickered around the bar, and back to Noah. No. Could he be? Winn leaned forward, “to listen better” he’d say, and inhaled again. Noah smelled fresh, in the most basic sense of the word — clean, mossy, a little bit woodsy? But there was something under all of that that Winn couldn’t quite put his finger on. If he could just get closer…

Ricky’s got some great meat. Noah couldn’t help but snort at that comment, middle school lizard brain still finding puns like that funny, and not like… true in, like, the really gay way. Because that was definitely a crisis for another night.

“Yeah, I made it over for a few hours, talked to all the guys for a bit. Saw you get some of your own Ricky Cordero special.” Noah winked at Winn. Because, yeah. He’d noticed. And it didn't matter to him that those two were close. Not one bit. Because he wasn’t like other jocks. He was a Cool Jock, okay?

Watching, though, as the other man went curiously silent, Noah cocked an eyebrow as the other inched closer and closer. Wait. Was Winn smelling him? Blanching a little out of embarrassment, Noah discreetly (or not so discreetly) raised an arm, nose instantly going to his pit. No, that wasn’t it. Not that it would have been anyway, he knew, Noah wasn't insane about hygiene but he at least had the common decency to shower off the sweat and the vet building smell before he came out.

Feeling his heart start racing, he said, “Don’t know what you’re smelling, but I swear I showered before I came, dude.” Noah raised his hands in his defense, Winn’s head practically inches from Noah’s tanned chest. And if Winn was any type of supernatural, Noah was sure he could heart his heart beating out of his long sleeve, button down, Henley-esque shirt. That he was now noticing was unbuttoned really, really low and my god he was showing too much skin for Winn, wasn’t he?

Winn racked his brain, trying to figure out what Noah could’a meant when he said that Winn got a “Ricky Cordero special.” “Oh, you mean when he slapped my ass?” Winn asked, nose twitching. Closer… “Ricky’s jus’ like that, bro, y’don’t gotta anythin’ to be jealous over.” He was not thinking about the words coming out of his mouth.

Noah smelled almost like… a wolf? Fuck, what. But he wasn’t a wolf. Trust Winn to know, he’d had to dude in his damn lap! He would know if he had a wolf in his lap, he’d had plenty there, and he knew how they smelled, and Noah did not smell like them. Or like Miles! But… But…

He leaned farther forward, dimly aware that Noah had noticed him leaning forward. But, shit, if he was a wolf, then the only person he really had to be ashamed around was Big D and, eyes darting to the left, yeah, D had gone into the kitchen. The barstool creaked as it started to come forward with Winn, Winn eyeing Noah’s neck and chest, where the scent was the most concentrated.

He could hear Noah’s heart beating fast — huh, save that observation for a later time — as Winn approached his target. And Winn could appreciate an admittedly nice chest, but that wasn’t his goal. His nose hit the base of Noah’s neck, Winn took a deep breath… and everything went to shit.

“Fuck,” Winn said, tipping forward and falling into Noah’s chest, into Noah, and off of his stool. Like a domino, Noah tipped back, and Winn barely had time to throw his hands out behind Noah’s head to prevent him from cracking it open on the tile.

“Damn it,” Winn said softly, but, well, since he was here. Deep inhale. There was something off about Noah’s scent. He knew it. There was something of the wild there — maybe he’d just been fucking around with a wolf for a while and didn’t know it yet? But, no, this smelled like… a part of him?

Not for the first time, Winn wished he could just ask César… and, fuck, Winn was still on top of Noah, hands behind Noah’s head, nose in the man’s neck, and, if he was being honest, his mouth on the man’s collarbone. Winn’s legs were astride Noah’s own, bodies lined up nearly one-to-one. And… well, shit, this was about to get awkward, wasn’t it?

Noah huffed at the assumption that he was jealous, eyes rolling playfully. Winn probably didn't know, but Noah could most likely get Ricky to slap his ass too. You know if he wanted to. But before Noah could even think to respond, a certain chain of events unfolded before him.

First, there was the fact that Winn was now so close that Noah could feel the other man’s breath on the skin of his neck as he fought to hold back a shiver. Something deep down within him wanted this, wanted this to keep going wherever it might lead. But again, now was not the time, nor the place, to be having a big gay crisis.

No, now was the time to have another crisis of sorts. One where he really just needed to know what the ever living fuck Winn was doing with his nostrils jammed so far into his neck he probably could smell what he had for dinner. But, wait. Was he… scenting him? The thought hit Noah like a freight train as the dark thing that lived down deep inside him howled with approval. Scenting. Pack. Fuck. That was a werewolf thing, right? Holy shit, did he just befriend an actual werewolf? All on his own?

Noah didn’t have time to really contemplate this singular thought as Winn tipped them both over with the force of his curiosity. And Noah had been hit before. Hard, some might even say. But there was nothing like having a huge, bulky man push you over on a barstool when you were least expecting it, especially when Noah’s own body absorbed most of the fall for the both of them.

“Shit,” he wheezed as he just laid there, mind focusing mostly on getting his breathing in check, his lungs feeling as if they’d had every ounce of oxygen knocked out of them. And this wasn’t the first time Noah had had a large man on top of him. Oh, no no no. Noah was a football player, and this thing was more or less normal in his realm. What wasn’t normal was the amount (or lack thereof) of clothing between them, and the actual press of flesh on flesh. Fuck, he really should have stuck with the cable knit sweater.

“So uh. If you wanted to, uh, get me under you, dude,” Noah started after a few more seconds of silence, still laying there stock-still, trying not to look at Winn (or, the top of his head). Or, you know, think about the fact that the man was basically making out with his collarbone at this point, “uh, there might have been better ways to go about it. Preferably one that didn’t cause me bodily harm.” Humor. It was the best Noah could do in the moment, and he hoped it was enough to break the thick tension that was now hanging in the air.

You know, thinking about it rationally, from his spot down here functionally making out with Noah’s collarbone, Winn could think of times in his life where he’d fucked up worse.

There’d been that time in the Chi Alpha mug party with the dick marshmallows when he’d been a sophomore. Or that time he’d literally fallen down the side of a mountain during initiation one year — and thank fuck for werewolf endurance or he’d probably be toast. There were plenty of times in his life that he could look back on now, lying on top of Noah, that, maybe, he should’ve felt, y’know, more embarrassed about at the time. Shame wasn’t a foreign emotion to Winn, much as he liked to joke that he was as shameless as they came.

But he was blushing scarlet now, especially when Noah joked about Winn wanting to get Noah under him. (And, really, again, Winn needed more time to think about the other man’s heart rate when he wasn’t scrambling for ways to explain why he’d been literally smelling Noah.)

“Uh,” he tried, “I’m sorry, dude. Guess my tolerance is a little lower than I remembered.” He huffed out a laugh, breath dusting across Noah’s exposed neck.

And, wow, this close up, he could really see the tendons in Noah’s neck. Curse the full moon, but Winn really wanted to bite into that neck right now. Not to hurt Noah, ‘course, but something a bit more… primal. And, alllllright, time to get up, before Winn started making his (secondary) intentions extremely clear to the other man — jeans or no.

But the thing was, the wolf didn’t want to move. He felt himself growl lowly, and no. No, like the dumb dog he was, he just stayed there, hands gripped tight in Noah’s hair (Christ), and took another deep breath of the man, once again left to wonder what the fuck was under the very, very human smell of Noah. He wondered, absently, if this is how some of his packmates had felt when he’d roughhoused with them, before they’d told him their secret, if there had been something different about the way that Winn smelled that had told them that he belonged with them.

And, dammit, down boy. Distract. He started talking, low, into Noah’s neck: “Okay, so, clearly I was lying about the drinking thing. I… don’t have a good explanation here for ya, man. Just gonna have to ask you to, uh, trust me that this isn’t as bad as it seems? And, like, I know it seems pretty bad, but I swear to you that I didn’t mean to hurt you or end up here.” He gulped, pushing onward. “But... I need you to do me a massive favor and push me off of you, ‘cause I don’t think I can get off of you right now? You’re gonna have to make the first move here, so. Please help me out here, Noah.”

He whispered one last, “Please.”

I’m sorry, dude. Guess my tolerance is a little lower than I remembered. Noah may have been a barely-there, C-passing jock at times, but good lord he was he not that dumb. There was definitely more to this. So, so, sooooo much more to this, especially as the other man turned an even deeper shade of crimson, grip starting to become tighter in Noah’s hair. (They’d have to talk about that little action in the future.)

Trying just to breathe, Noah laid there for a moment, irrational thoughts streaming through his consciousness as every second passed. The wolf in him wanted to growl at Winn, gnash his teeth, and bite whatever flesh he could find, a stiff payment for knocking him over and holding him veritably hostage.

But there was also a side of him that felt the rush of blood pooling in places it should not be, Winn’s hot breath on his neck bringing back those sexual feelings he sadly hadn’t given into in a long time. Feelings he shouldn’t even be having in the first place seeing as how it was a very male appendage that was making its appearance against him.

As always, Winn brought him back, the pleading in his voice distracting Noah from each and every shiver that was tingling down his spine. (God, he was going to need to work on being well, less, excitable in his neck area.)

The fucking asshole couldn’t move? What the fucking kind of fucking excuse was that? A lame one, his inner wolf growled. And Noah couldn’t help but agree, his anger fueling his next actions.

Because yes, in retrospect, he probably could have done everything a lot gentler, but Noah Fucking Kalani was no fucking pushover, that was for sure. Making the swift choice, Noah braced, the one season of wrestling he did in freshman year really kicking in as he swung his legs up. Bracketing them around the other man, Noah rolled them both swiftly and efficiently landing to where he was on top, his own hips pinning the other to the floor, Winn’s body hitting the tile with a soft but satisfying thud.

Sitting there (and ignoring the large dick in the room), Noah just let his breath come in a soft pant as he studied the other man, searching for words. But there was only one thing he had to say right now. He leaned down. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?” he whispered. His big brown eyes narrowing, almost daring Winn to tell the truth.

Winn winced as Noah flipped him, grunting softly at the roughness of the maneuver and the ways in which Noah was now pressing down on him. The wolf was shocked into silence, into submission, and, frankly, so was Winn.

He looked up at Noah, the other man panting, looking at Winn with a curious gaze, like he was waiting for Winn to say something, do something. But what? Winn whined slightly, before he got annoyed at himself for whining. C’mon, Winner. Do better.

His big “problem” throbbed unhelpfully in his jeans, but he could almost ignore that, especially when Noah said the w-word. And leaned in. And whispered. Alright, so, a healthy mix of everything, then. Great. So, two, maybe three, options here, right?

Option the first: Noah was a Hunter, which seemed… unlikely, though his dick had led him astray before in that regard. Hunter wouldn’t’ve let him get that close. Wouldn’t have even hesitated to put a bullet in his chest, a hand around his throat, whatever. Hell, coulda used the shot glass for it. He blamed Jules for at least one of those options ‘causing him to groan low, in the back of his throat.

Alright, option the second: Noah was a wolf. Vaguely unlikely. He knew what non-pack wolves smelled like, in the broadest sense. And even if he didn’t, the smell underlying Noah’s normal scent wasn’t fully wolflike. He knew that now, having been, well, immersed in it was probably the most accurate?

Third… Weird human?

He pushed his hips up experimentally, testing how tightly Noah had him down, and found it was firm — but not absolute. Winn briefly considered bucking Noah off of him, but didn’t want that to be taken as somethin’ it wasn’t, considering that would mean grinding up and into Noah’s ass.

Instead, he looked into Noah’s brown eyes, searching for an answer, before he slowly, calmly, nodded. There was somethin’ about the show of force, the calm sureness of Noah’s whispered “werewolf,” that made Winn want to bare his neck, offer himself up to Noah — stupid, he knew, that was barely a thing that his packmates had even jokingly done.

Even knowing that, he turned his head to the side slightly, neck on full display, an acceptance that he’d been beat. An acquiescence to answering Noah’s questions, if he had any. But Winn let out one growl, though, to let Noah know that Winn could still fight back, if he needed to.

Staring at Winn, Noah’s eyes were trained on the other, looking for even the slightest of movements, wolfy instincts he barely knew he had ablaze inside him. He wanted proof, proof he wasn't crazy. Hell, even proof Winn was a weird motherfucker who was just trying to seduce him so he could later stuff him in a hole and wear his skin like a robe (and on that thought, Noah probably needed to stop watching psychological horror movies before bed).

Feeling Winn test his grip, though, only made Noah tighten it, mouth set in a line. Winn wasn't getting out of this without answering the question. No matter how aroused Winn was, or how much Noah was thinking that if this was happening in different circumstances… but they weren’t. They were happening here and now, with Noah pinning down a guy he'd practically just met on the tiled floor of a bar and accusing him of being a werewolf.

To which apparently the answer was yes. Winn was a werewolf. Noah sucked in a sharp breath. Fuck. Winn was an actual werewolf. The moon was only a few days away and here he was, a puny slightly-powered human pinning down a full-grown fucking wolf. Fuck having the upperhand right now, because he was going to die tonight, wasn’t he? But then Winn turned his head, the soft part of his neck and consequently his jugular on display. There was something in the action that sent a tingle through Noah’s spine, the younger boy losing his grip a bit subconsciously.

Well, that was until he heard it, the low rumble that sent him spiraling back into the darkness. No, that deep animalistic voice spoke to him. No. This would not do. Tightening back to his original strength, Noah gave in and did something he'd never done before. He growled back.

Did… Did Noah just growl at Winn?

What… the fuck. What the actual, like, flying fuck? That was a wolf growl and, Winn sniffed the air as subtly as possible (hah, fat chance, Winner). Noah smelled… more like a wolf now? (And, alright, Winn would self-examine the way in which the growl nearly made him whine, again.)

“What… are you?” Winn ventured, eyes locked on Noah.

Which, of course, was when Big D, who had managed to stay out of the fucking room while this series of increasingly nonsensical events had occured, made his presence known with a loud cough. Winn, slightly too roughly—sorry Noah—shoved the younger man off of him and stood, grateful that the bar came up to hide his waist, and what was below it, and laughed uncomfortably.

“Big D, have I ever told you how grateful I am that you’re my bartender? That you let me stay here even when I’m not drinking? How I’d do anything for you?” The bartender quirked an eyebrow, gestured to the man still on the floor, gestured to Winn, gestured to the trays stack of damp glasses he’d brought in from the back. And, yeah, okay, Winn could get the message.

“I… think you should go, Noah,” he said, staring into Noah’s eyes with a calm surety, trying to transmit ‘Look, things are complicated, but we can talk about this later.’ with just his mind, knowing that there could be so many things going through Noah’s head right now, and that, in a way, it was Winn and his dumbass wolf’s responsibility to answer any questions, but… Later. He’d figure it out. Later.

And with a whoosh, Noah was gone.

#wickedswriting #para #Noah #A Case of the Moondays

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caandlelit · 5 years

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sure ive been yelling about oblivious dabi since i first made this blog but hear me out; oblivious hawks.

dabi is head over heels and flirting obnoxiously with the hot as hell number three hero turned double agent and hawks has no goddamn clue,,,,,he meets the rest of the villains

and wonders why they look at him terrified like hes in danger when he laughs at dabi who is tryin so fucking hard to woo him and screaming on the inside when hawks' dumb chicken brain doesnt even register that hes being hit on,,, just hawks being terrible at romance

and way way later when dabi has met rumi and comes over one night while shes there, after hes gone she goes /dude/

and hes like what

and she says 'he was flirting with you all night man i thought u were into him the way u go on about his face but u just brushed him off bro' and hawks' mind just screechs to a halt like what.

hawks: wait are you..flirting with me?

dabi: *stares*

dabi, kicking a chair: have been for the past /year/ thanks for noticing, /bitch/

#dabihawks #hotwings #dabi #hawks #hawks bnha #hawks mha #miruko #rumi

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xxforsaken-angelxx · 4 years

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=> Sweet bros, hella moirails

xxforsaken-angelxx sollux sollux

hortiicultured That 2ound2 Urgent Ye2 Hello. ii am o2ten2iibly awake.

xxforsaken-angelxx its not dont wworry or not like, bad urgent

hortiicultured Good Urgent?

xxforsaken-angelxx lets go wwith that yeah

hortiicultured ii thiink ii'm awake enough for good urgent. Do You Need Me IIn Per2on? becau2e ii miight need a biit to be pre2entable. ...And Coffee.

xxforsaken-angelxx no its fine just listen

hortiicultured lii2teniing.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...look im sorry but i am just so goddamn ovver the moons pale for you an youre killin me right noww

hortiicultured Oh. ... one moment plea2e.

> Apparently the incentive to finally get up from your desk is to go dunk your head in cold water so you can be absolutely sure that this isn't some half asleep hallucination and you're not about to make a complete fool of yourself. > ...yep, it's still there.

Okay. 2orry. Um. ... you're. Really?

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah really like im not expectin nothin but youre all gorgeous an swweet an all the soft shit is hard on my pusher i wwanna fuss ovver you so bad

hortiicultured you're one to talk, 2ayiing thiing2 liike that. II Ju2t Thought...Well To Be Hone2t That You Ju2t Weren't IIntere2ted IIn Quadrant2 At All.

xxforsaken-angelxx i mean im normally not to be fuckin frank but i got it real bad for you like i dont got anything against quadrants really ivve just kinda nevver quite felt like this

hortiicultured god, and here ii ju2t. II Diidn't Want To Compliicate Thiing2 And II Know How II Can Get, And. ...ii've probably been horriibly obviiou2, haven't ii?

xxforsaken-angelxx a little but i wwouldnt a wworked up the nervve if you hadnt been so i dunno not a bad thing

hortiicultured II Gue22 Not... ii wa2n't even. really thiinkiing anythiing would come of iit. But You've Been Under 2o Much 2tre22 Lately And II Really Ju2t... Wanted To Make You 2miile. that would've been enough. But You Do Thiing2 To Me When You Get Exciited And IIt'2 Completely Unfaiir.

xxforsaken-angelxx sollux no offense but thats the cutest thing thats evver been said oh my god

hortiicultured no 2hut up.

xxforsaken-angelxx like its wworkin im smilin but youre so cute?

hortiicultured Would IIt Be Completely Wiigglerii2h Of Me To 2ay "No You"?

xxforsaken-angelxx yes but thats the opposite of a problem

hortiicultured eheh. God II Don't Know Why II Thought II Could Pretend. ii've been 2iighiing over you for periigee2 and iit ju2t keep2 gettiing wor2e.

xxforsaken-angelxx see like logically i kinda kneww that but thats still like immensely flatterin

hortiicultured Can't Let You Do All The Flatteriing Around Here, Can II?

xxforsaken-angelxx ...can i like hug you or somethin i wwanna hug you or somethin

hortiicultured ...yeah. Ye2. ii'd liike that.

xxforsaken-angelxx :o)

hortiicultured ...Hone2tly II'm Ju2t, 2o Reliieved?

xxforsaken-angelxx are you? like i am too but howw so

hortiicultured you're not the only one who'2 been wantiing to fu22. And II've Been Feeliing 2o Fuckiing 2appy Lately IIt'2 Kiilliing Me.

xxforsaken-angelxx ok admittedly right noww that in and of itself feels really sappy an also i do not an wwill not knoww wwhat im doin so if you get any ideas i promise i wwill be happy to oblige

hortiicultured 2ee what ii mean??

xxforsaken-angelxx hard probably

hortiicultured You Have No IIdea How Much II've Wanted To Ju2t 2ay II Adore You. everyone alway2 giive2 you a hard tiime for the drama and edgy affectatiion2 and ii ju2t thiink iit'2 2o fuckiing charmiing?

xxforsaken-angelxx oh damn

hortiicultured Not Beiing Able To 2ay Anythiing Ha2 Been Ju2t. The Wor2t.

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah yeah really an i think you wwere dealin wwith that for a good bit longer you poor bastard

hortiicultured your piity ii2 a balm to my bruii2ed pu2her, thank you.

xxforsaken-angelxx haha youre a real miracle though yknoww that?

hortiicultured You Tell Me.

xxforsaken-angelxx i keep feelin like the luckiest guy in the wworld tonight wwhen you say you care about me an evverythin

hortiicultured ii'm not goiing to be able to 2top blu2hiing for a moment toniight, am ii?

xxforsaken-angelxx no but its only fair cause i cant either

hortiicultured Damn You.

xxforsaken-angelxx wwe are stuck in this hell together noww

hortiicultured ...ii do, though. God2 Know II've Waiited Long Enough To 2ay IIt. you've been 2o good to me, here...

xxforsaken-angelxx im uh glad you think so i do try

hortiicultured II Would Have Been Mii2erable Otherwii2e.

xxforsaken-angelxx i like tryin to make you happier, as it turns out

hortiicultured turn2 out you're pretty good at iit.

xxforsaken-angelxx so are you frankly

hortiicultured II'm Hone2tly Glad To Hear That.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...ivve kinda thought you wwere relaxin to be around for a wwhile noww that i think about it evven if i nevver thought about it in a romance wway

hortiicultured ii've triied to be... II Gue22 II Couldn't Really Help IIt. but... even iif you weren't iintere2ted, 2omeone need2 to make 2ure you relax on occa2iion. IIt'2 Ju2t Niice To Be Able To Be Open About IIt.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...you're so swweet it is nice though

hortiicultured when diid you fiigure iit out...?

xxforsaken-angelxx this sounds dumb typin it out but like a feww wweeks ago

hortiicultured II Mean II Wouldn't Really 2ay 2o. ii'm ju2t a hopele22 romantiic.

xxforsaken-angelxx ill definitely givve you romantic

hortiicultured Well. maybe not 2o hopele22, eheh.

xxforsaken-angelxx you at least got this far

hortiicultured Yeah. ii don't really thiink ii could 2ay ju2t when iit wa2? IIt Ju2t...Kiind Of Happened Along The Way.

xxforsaken-angelxx i dunno it sounds all nice that wway

hortiicultured iit gue22 iit ii2 kiind of niice. Be2iide2 The Piiniing.

xxforsaken-angelxx the pinin part is plain terrible but that part just kinda strikes me somehoww

hortiicultured ii gue22 there ii2 2omethiing about iit. But, Heh. iit'2 much better beiing on the 2ame page now.

xxforsaken-angelxx much better

hortiicultured IIf... We Both Want Thii2. ii'm goiing to tell karkat... God Know2 He Kept Hii2 Piitch From Me For Long Enough. but ii thiink iit 2hould be up to you iif we make iit publiic.

xxforsaken-angelxx thats fair admittedly though i dont see a reason to tell much of anyone else like if anybody wwe like asks then wwhatevver but id kinda like to keep things privvate

hortiicultured Yeah. ii'm all riight wiith that. ...II Thiink II Kiind Of Liike The IIdea Of Keepiing Thii2 2iide Of You To My2elf.

xxforsaken-angelxx honk i cant argue wwith that

hortiicultured eheh.

xxforsaken-angelxx youre a menace already

hortiicultured You're A Fiine One To Talk.

xxforsaken-angelxx im a clowwn its in my blood you got no excuse

hortiicultured 2econdhand clown expo2ure. IIt'2 Termiinal II'm Afraiid.

xxforsaken-angelxx damn just as i thought

hortiicultured nothiing to do for iit.

xxforsaken-angelxx nothin but sufferin

hortiicultured And Terriible Joke2.

xxforsaken-angelxx hilarious terrible jokes

#ooc #logs.txt #hortiicultured

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m0llymauk-tealeaf · 5 years

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Sweet and Sour (Kiribaku Fake Dating AU) Chapter 1

Hey, I hope you guys enjoy this! I’m tryin out something new by posting my more for fun writing on here.

REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED!

Bakugou slammed the front door of his house shut, kicking his shoes off and throwing his sweat soaked shirt to the floor. It was eight, almost nine at night, and he had just gotten home from a two week mission on the other side of the country. He was exhausted, wanting nothing more than a warm bath and approximately seventy-two hours of sleep.

He’d stripped down to his boxers by the time he made it to the bathroom, his phone in his hand. He started his ‘relaxing music’ playlist (which mostly consisted of nineties and early two-thousands emo music), yanked his boxers down, and stepped into the shower. As soon as Bakugou turned the tap, the loud, annoying noise of his ringtone smacked him like a giant hammer. Groaning, Bakugou stepped out of the shower and answered the call.

“What?” He spat.

“Hey Katsuki, how are you?” His mother asked.

“Fuckin’ tired.”

“Are you back from your big mission yet?”

“Just got back. Was about to take a fucking shower, but *someone* had to fucking interrupt me.”

“Don’t talk that way to your fucking mother, Katsuki. Have some goddamn respect.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Why did you call me?”

“I need you back home for the twentieth.” It was currently the seventeenth, but yeah, he’d *totally* be able to make it back home in that short about of time. “And I expect you to bring a date with you. Someone cute. Haru’s gonna be back too, and he’s bringing a date. I do *not* want him and his family fucking showing us up, alright?”

“Alright.”

The line went dead with no warning or goodbye. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. *Why* did it have to be Haru? *Why* couldn’t it have been some friend from middle school that he *didn’t* care about or remember that much, and not his first fucking boyfriend?

He needed a date. Yeah, the abrasive, angry, asshole would definitely be able to get a date. Well, there was someone he could probably ask…

He had one chance. He picked up his phone to make another call.

___

Kirishima stretched his arms above his head, twisting his neck from side to side before plopping down on his bed with a protein bar. He’d been apart of the small team of heroes chosen to save the son of a politician who had been kidnapped by some… overzealous, to say the least, protesters. He’d just gotten home.

Kirishima scrolled through social media as he munched on his bar, enjoying the little bit of free time he was given. His eye was caught by a picture his friend Jirou had posted on her Instagram. It showed her girlfriend’s hand with a beautiful ring proudly displayed on her ring finger. The caption under it said, “She said yes!” Followed by a ring and a bride emoji. Seeing the picture, he couldn’t help but think of a certain man…

Kirishima jumped, dropping his phone on the floor as it rang. He reached over and grabbed his phone, quickly checking the caller ID.

’Bakugou Katsuki’

“Hey,” he said as he picked up the phone. “Not like you to call. What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“So, this is really fucking embarrassing, but uhm… my parents are having some party or something, and I need to bring a date with me when I go, so… do you wanna pretend to be my boyfriend for a few days? I’ll pay you if you do.”

What? Was this a dream? It had to be a dream.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Fucking hell, Eijirou, I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I don’t have to see my ex with someone else while I’m fucking alone!”

“O-Oh, uhm… okay?”

“I’ll pay for all your travel and everything, just… do stuff that a boyfriend would do, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m trusting you, Ei.”

His heart fluttered as the blond hung up. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Act like he was in a relationship with Bakugou. Pretend to love him. As if he had to pretend.

Kirishima’s little, gay heart felt like it was about to swell and explode. He was going to smother Bakugou in love while he had the chance. He’d probably never have this chance again, so he might as well take advantage of it.

He needed to tell Kaminari.

Kiri: “Kaminari. Dude. Bro.”

Kiri: “Do I have something to fucking tell you.”

Kami: “Did Bakugou suck your dick on the train ride home?”

Kiri: “NO but it’s almost as good.”

Kami: “Spill the fuckin tea, bitch.”

Kiri: “Bakugou kinda sorta asked me to be his date to an event with his family? But he told me to fake it?”

Kami: “Excuse me?

Kiri: “Apparently his ex’s gonna be there and he didn’t want them to see him alone bc they had another partner.”

Kami: “Alright tell me when he sucks your dick.”

Kiri: “KAMINARI STOP”

Kami: “Kay Imma go tell Sero bout this night night”

Kiri: “Goodnight”

Kirishima took a deep breath, then placed his phone on the table beside his bed. His mind was filled with thoughts; Thoughts of Bakugou, the time they’d be spending together, all the possible ways he could try to sweep the blond off his feet. Would that even happen? Was Kirishima good enough for him? Bakugou wouldn’t have asked him to be his fake boyfriend if he wasn’t good enough to be his real boyfriend, would he? God. Thinking was too hard for him at the moment.

But how would Bakugou react to his feelings? Would he be able to take Bakugou rejecting him? What if he decided he didn’t want to be friends with Kirishima anymore because he had feelings for him? Was that a stupid thing to think? Would that happen?

Kirishima glanced over at the alarm clock on his bedside table every few minutes; 11:27 pm, still thinking of Bakugou. 11:32 pm, still thinking of Bakugou. 11:43 pm, Bakugou. 11:51 pm, Bakugou. 12:00 am, Bakugou. 12:10 am, Bakugou. And on. And on. And on, and on, and on, and on. Here Kirishima was, stressing about Bakugou, while Bakugou was probably asleep. He’d probably been asleep for hours.

___

Baku: “What kind of flowers does Kirishima like?”

Kami: “Uh idk? Why do you wanna know?”

Baku: “I can’t just let him pretend to kiss me without giving him fucking flowers, dipshit.”

#kiribaku #bnha #mha #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #fake dating au

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redvelvetreel · 6 years

Text

Red Velvet Reel 6.5: Cele-BRAT-ion!

[Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: WELL THEN. Now that they’ve got Swapfell squared away, time to get Undertale to toe the line.

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans) & Classic (Undertale Papyrus) & Comic (Undertale Sans)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Meeting up in a (sports) bar! Everyone talks a lot and never shuts up! (More) Stupid Fellverse posturing and antagonism! Lots of headcanons! Culture clash!

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: 1 more part left for this installment! <3 Thanks so much for sticking through this with me!! ;w;

Underswap Papyrus – Stretch Underswap Sans – Blue Underfell Paprus – Edge Underfell Sans – Red Undertale Papyrus – Classic Undertale Sans – Comic

“No.”

Edge abruptly returned to the table, gesturing over his shoulder incredulously as he stared at Red.

“Huevón!” Red slammed his fist into the table, smiling broadly. Everyone jumped, but there was a note of admiration in his voice, “Whatta bitch! Hate that guy! The fuck! Congrat-fuckin’-lations!”

“What does that mean?” Edge hummed in absentminded agreement, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms restlessly, “Así no más? They let it drop, and we win?” He didn’t wait for Red to answer, shifting with nervous energy. “Ugh, we’re so out of practice, and they’re so weird about it!”

“Rrrelax, Ñaño.” Red shrugged nonchalantly, an easy smile on his face, “Do what we do. Wait ‘n see ‘n fuck ‘em up if necessitated, yeah?”

“Yeah...” Edge didn’t look convinced, but he sighed as Stretch put an arm around his shoulders. His mouth quickly quirked into a smile as he put his arm around his husband’s waist, sounding pleased, “You were fantastic! Truly a ‘charm’ offensive!”

“BOSSASS, Stretch!” Red’s smile stretched even wider as he banged his hands down again, pointing at him approvingly. “Ya healed Pup! Goddamn! Then tell lil’ bastard to fuck off with a hug!”

“Black didn’t know what to make of that!” Edge sounded gleeful, a mischievous sparkle in his socket as he turned to Red with a smirk. He kept his arm around Stretch’s waist in an unusually public display of prolonged affection, so he must have been really impressed. “I thought he was actually going to accept out of spite!”

“Hell yeah!” Red gestured that his mind was blown, “Lil’ bastard ain’t know who he’s fuckin’ with! Stretch’s rock solid!“

Edge scoffed, “He’s soft by choice, not lack of ability- as I’ve told you hundreds of times!”

“Whatever,” Red drawled, resting his chin and looking bored, “Yer biased as fuck. Damn! Now I wanna fuck somethin’ up! Ya any good to rumble, Stretch?”

“Of course he is!” Edge looked insulted, “You think I would marry someone who wasn’t?!”

“Ah, yes,” Classic leaned back and played with the straw in his drink absently, “You two like to talk about not so good things like they are very good things, even though they absolutely are not.”

“I’m not taking any shit from you!” Edge’s demeanor snapped into something more hostile as he turned towards Classic, pulling away to point at him dramatically. “What the fuck were you thinking?! You tryin’ to get me dusted?!”

Classic’s eyes bulged out of his sockets, spitting out the mouthful of his drink on the table, “Hah?!”

Red pointedly leaned over, holding a napkin daintily as he dabbed at the spot. He cleared his throat, pitching his voice higher in obvious imitation of Classic, “Let me just-“

Blue jabbed him in the ribs hard enough Red hit the table with a bang, “Knock it off, asshole! Haven’t you had your fill of violence and arguments yet?!”

“Nope!” He answered petulantly, throwing the napkin in Blue’s face. “And you hush up, backstabber!”

“Me?!”

“Yeah!” Red gestured at the door with palpable frustration, “Ya cain’t speak ‘gainst me till after they gone! Ya tryin’ to get me killed? Yer bro’s hubby?! Yer own goddamn fuckin’ sobrino?!”

Blue blanched.

“No?!” Red sneered, turning away with disgust, “Then shut up ‘n listen fer once in yer fuckin’ life!”

“I-“ Classic gestured at himself helplessly, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about?!”

“I just told you!” Edge let out an angry huff, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s a Fellverse thing! Magic is everything to Fell! If I can’t use my magic, I’m weak! If I’m weak, I can’t protect nothing I got!”

“Yeah!” Red crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his brother with a sour expression, “Then everythin’s up fer swipin’, includin’ Honey ‘n the brat! S’when whose backin’ ya up gotta look real dread! If y’ain’t look united, then y’ain’t shit! So they don’t got not reason to hold back, ya dig?”

Classic looked almost queasy, “Black and Slim would never-“

“I don’t fuck with chance!” Edge slammed his fist into the table, looking angry, “I don’t know where they stand or what they want, so I had to make myself clear! My...” Edge glanced at Stretch, drawing a line with his finger.

“Line in the sand.” Stretch did not want to be drawn into this at all. He sat down and slid over to his old spot as unobtrusively as possible.

“Of course, now you’re helpful!” Edge still complained loudly, shaking his head. He was mostly talking to Classic, but made sure to look at Blue too, “At least wait until mi hijuepu enemies are gone before you are questioning me! And! Por el amor del Ángel, don’t ever ask me to apologize! Carever-“

“Ojo!” Red’s voice took on an oddly stern tone, “Ain’t no need t’be nasty. If they ain’t gonna help, they gonna sit pretty ‘n stay outta it, right?”

The Fell monster didn’t look the least bit abashed at all the incredulous looks. Which was maybe to be expected, but was still incredibly surreal. Red scolding anyone, let alone Edge, about their language?

“Yeah?” Red prompted again, moving his hand in impatient circles. “Baby Blue?”

“Ok.” Blue nodded quickly, still not quite able to meet Edge’s eyelights, “I won’t get involved. ...Sorry.”

Stretch didn’t like this- he wasn’t sure what Edge and Red were trying to prove against Classic and Blue, of all people, but he knew he couldn’t say anything. Even if it seemed excessive, Edge was acting out of a sense of paternal duty and insecurity. Especially after those impassioned lectures of being publicly supportive, he wasn’t sure what he should do...

“Class-“ Red started to say, only to be cut off by a sound that was equal parts distressed and irritated.

“I don’t want to answer!” Classic shook his head, a stubborn set to his unsure smile, “I can’t give you my blanket approval- because I do not approve! And I cannot condone the use of such forceful methods!” He sighed heavily, looking tired, “You could have handled things with Slim much, much better, Edge! You didn’t need to escalate it to violence- and just because Stretch healed him doesn’t mean it didn’t happen! I think if you just-“

“Papyrus,” Edge leaned on his hands, an undertone of frustration to every punctuated word, “I’m not asking for your permission- I’m going to do whatever I feel is necessary to keep my baby safe.”

Comic cracked one socket open, but didn’t entirely drop his pretense of sleeping, “Don’t you think you’re worried about the wrong guy?”

The Fell monsters exchanged a look. “Nah, ‘cause the Lil’ Tyrant gave in, ‘n so they gave us an out.” Red put his face in his hands, worrying at his sockets restlessly, “They’re ‘duty bound’ to be ‘not enemies.’ Honor ain’t mean nuthin’ back home, but them Swapfell’s’re different ‘bout that shit. Sides, Puppydog ‘n us got history.”

“Oh?” Comic closed his socket with a nonchalant shrug, “Guess honor’s not for chumps, and his goody-two shoes act is believable.”

Equal parts impressed and annoyed, Red’s grin was razor sharp, “Point is, esfinge, that we know Fell, ‘n we know what they’re gonna do. The real concern’s both of yas.” He pointed at both of them with the same hand, “When shit hits, what’cha gonna do?”

Edge crossed his arms over his chest, eyelight bright and focused, “I just need to know if I need to protect Pancake from you.”

Classic put his head down into his hands, muffling what sounded like a frustrated scream. Which, fair enough- Stretch has no idea how he would handle being on the receiving end of this. Just as quickly, Classic was sitting up again, looking like he had just come up with a brilliant idea.

“How about a compromise?” He asked brightly, “I know you know that I would never, ever purposely hurt your babybones! And I absolutely would never ever want to inadvertently cause them harm!”

He crossed his arms, looking torn, “But I can’t just sit here while you maim, humiliate, or otherwise fight with someone just because they make you nervous! That’s a terrible way to handle feelings of anxiety, and will undoubtedly lead to more problems than it solves! So, let’s just not!”

Edge tilted his head, looking cautiously curious, “Not what?”

“Not stay! Let’s just leave! You can tell me you don’t feel safe, and I will escort you out to make sure no one lays a hand on you or Pancake!” Classic held up a hand at the dubious expressions he was receiving, literally waving concerns off, “Let me finish! That way, you can stay physically safe and feel safe, too! And it will still give you the ability to rectify bad behavior- if these people won’t respect your wishes, then they are probably people you don’t want around Pancake right now anyway.”

Classic puffed out his chest with a broad smile, “If it makes you feel better, I can also guarantee I will do my best to find a solution while you are not there! You see, I am very good at conflict mediation, and very stubborn! And Sans is very good at getting out of situations he doesn’t want to be in, so he can guarantee a quick retreat!”

“So...” Edge’s expression soured, “You want me to flee-“

“He wants to be your bodyguard.” Stretch cleared his throat, still not sure if he should comment, but it seemed innocuous enough. “Hustle you out of danger until the coast is clear.”

That changed their attitude. Edge finally sat down next to his husband, arms still right over his chest as he looked at Red. “Bodyguard.”

“Maybe.” Red drummed his fingers on the table, “Switch it. Y’ain’t gotta get your claws dirty, good, ‘n he’s pretty reliable. ‘N tall...”

“I am all of those things!” Classic agreed with a proud toss of his head.

“It would never work with Fell.” Edge started cracking his knuckles, looking down at the tabletop, “They wouldn’t-“

“Ain’t no Fell!” Red whistled loudly to get get his brother’s attention, “Puppydog ‘n Lil’tyrant ain’t no challenge no more, d’fuck else ya worryin’ ‘bout, huh? Ghosts?”

For whatever reason, Edge flinched at that. Hard.

“Edge.” Classic’s voice was gentle. “I won’t let you down.” He slipped off his mitten, holding his pinkie out with an unusually solemn expression, “I promise I won’t let Pancake get hurt under my watch.”

The Fell monster sighed, long and weary, but hooked his own pinkie back, “I’ll let you try. If I need to get involved afterwards, I will- but fine. I’ll let you try first.”

When he made a move to pull back, Classic kept his hand in place. “Sans!” He hissed to his side, jostling his brother with his elbow, “You too.”

Comic took his sweet time sitting up and reaching over to hook his own finger around Edge’s finger. “I’ll back Pap up, and getcha out. If I need to.” He said simply, expression carefully neutral. Well, that was about what Stretch expected- Red didn’t look surprised either.

Comic pulled back a moment later, resettling himself on the cushions with a sigh, “But you should know who your friends are by now.”

“Yes, fine, friends-“ Edge tried to shrug the comment off, but it clearly bothered him enough he felt the need to justify himself. “But I can’t take the same risks as if it were just me.” He managed to keep himself from touching his scarred socket, but he picked at the scars on his knuckles absently, “Friends can still hurt you, even if they don’t mean to- sometimes they’re even worse than enemies. If I’m wrong-“

“Yeah, well-“ Stretch cut in with a cough, putting a discreet arm around his husband’s waist, “We do what we gotta do to protect ourselves and the people we love, right?” Edge didn’t give him much of a reaction, but didn’t resist as he was tugged a little closer.

“We never actually toasted Pancake yet, did we?” Blue was unusually hesitant, still chastened from earlier, but clearly desperate for a topic change. “We should!”

“Yes!” Classic clapped his hands, looking absolutely delighted, “A toast for the baby! And, because I know how much Edge values action over words-“ He opened up his STAT menu, withdrawing 200 g from his gold pouch. “I will fund it!”

“Hell fuckin’ yeah-“ Red perked up immediately, moving his mug to his new spot with magic, “Gonna get chumado as fuuuuck-“ He poured the remainder of Black’s drink in his mug, and moved Slim’s glass closer.

Classic put the gold on the table with obvious flourish, pushing it in their direction, “A gift from us- mostly me, but this is technically everyone else’s money, too- to you... all! Happy impending babybone’s birthday!”

“I-“ Edge looked surprised for a moment, touched and guilty and confused rolled into a too open expression, before he buried it down with a devious smirk. “How very generous!”

He curled his hands under his chin like a cartoon villain, tone innocent in a way that could only be deceptive, “I can only wonder how you’ll top this at Pancake’s shower party! I’m looking forward to see what kind of unique and lavish gift you’ll bring, ‘Uncle Classic.’”

“Uncle?!” Classic’s expression lit up, eyes becoming large hearts as he gasped dramatically. “I get to be Uncle Classic?!”

“If you want,” Stretch barely managed to suppress a relieved sigh, glad everything seemed to be much less tense, “Unless you wanna be called something else?” He glanced at Blue and Red, but neither seemed to be particularly bothered by sharing that title. “We were thinking ‘Sir’ might be fun too, like a knight or something-“

“Wowie, Sir Papyrus!” Classic’s eyelights positively sparkled, “I’ve always dreamed of being a knight!” He shook himself free of the sparkles- literally, although Comic didn’t seem to mind having some on the top of his head- before continuing earnestly, “Of course! I cannot let Pancake down! I will get them the absolute best present of them all!

“Because! I am great at a good many things, especially creating artificially high standards that are difficult to reach! By everyone, sometimes including even me!” Classic smiled broadly before his face became incredibly blank, “What event is this? A baby what?”

“A baby shower! It’s a human tradition!” Blue perked up and launched into a long, detailed explanation Stretch started to tune out immediately. This was more of what he had been hoping for the entire evening, honestly- he was relieved everyone finally seemed to be getting along again and having a good time.

Well, almost everyone. Edge always had a tendency to lay his acting on a little too thick when he was preoccupied, and there was stiff tension to his spine. Stretch would be looking into that at the end of the night. (Early tomorrow morning?)

For now, though, he was content to enjoy warm conversation with good company and this delicious honey mead.

[Part 1 ] [Part 2 ] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5 - Here! ] [Part 6]

#underfell papyrus #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #underswap sans #classic papyrus #comic sans #skelepreg #spicyhoney #redvelvetreel #fanfic #gosh the grammar is really bad sometimes dfjkdfhhd i gotta stop posting at like 1:30 am :c #but thats the only time i haveeeeee oTL

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skeletonsgrim · 6 years

Note

Dude you cannot tell me that a big sweetie like you is bad with kids. How?? Would you mind elaborating a little bit? D:

* well, it’s a bit more complicated than just bein’ ‘bad with them’, if i’m bein’ honest. and it’s a bit twofold, as well.

* ... ya gotta understand, Dings, Paps, ‘n i were on our own by the time I was 8. Dings was 4, and Paps was 2. so sure, i ended up raisin’ ‘em... but it’s not like i was skilled. i did the best i could - there was an orphanage in the Capital, but... it was huge. they did their best, but there’s only so much time to go around, y’know? and when our parents died, it was part of kind of a crisis Underground - a lot of monsters lost Hope within the span of about 7 months, and... Fell. so there were a bunch of kids suddenly put in this system...

* so, we had a place to sleep ‘n basics for food, but outside of that it really was just us takin’ care of one another. i fucked up a lot - discipline was never my strong suit - but i started taking on odd under the table jobs to earn money, to get them some new clothes and what better food or treats i could - we wouldn’t have a normal childhood, but i wanted ‘em to at least know they were just as loved as anyone else, y’know?

* ... i was pretty bitter up in my preteens, too, at... the world, our circumstances, at havin’ to see my brothers curled up on one mattress, unwillin’ to sleep till they saw i was back from whatever odd job i had scrabbled together. we rarely spoke of it, but we were all terrified of losin’ one another just like we lost our parents within days of one another... ‘n because my HP took such a hit ‘n never recovered, they wouldn’t sleep till i was back ‘n safe, readin’ ‘em a story or some science theories, dependin’ on who had pick for the night.

* ... when we got older, i, uh... never actually properly finished high school. the orphanage was damned unbearable by that point, ‘n because we had one another, the kids ostracized us a lot - really got to Paps ‘n Dings, ‘n gave me a hell of a lotta trouble trustin’ other kids. so i dropped out ‘n worked my ass off, got us a studio apartment, ‘n we moved there together. still, we were poor. couldn’t afford to get Paps ‘n Dings new clothes... ‘n they got crap from it. when i went to their school to pick ‘em up with a couple surprise cinnabunnies since i got my break early, i, uh - got chewed out.

* couple of the parents put two ‘n two together ‘n realized i was the one raisin’ them. said i was a terrible influence, lettin’ Paps grow up to be a dreamer, ‘n encouragin’ Dings to chase after obscure scientific theories. said too that i was treatin’ ‘em badly, that takin’ ‘em outta the orphanage only made ‘em suffer for not knowin’ where the next meal was comin’ from, for “showin’ them that dropping out was a valid choice”, ‘n more...

* ..... it got worse after that. i had to make sure to pick ‘em up everyday, because if i wasn’t there to chew out, they’d turn on Dings ‘n Pap. ‘n don’t get me wrong, they were in their teens too, ‘n could take care of themselves - but i had already put ‘em back enough, y’know? they already faced crap. they had friends, too, but i just... couldn’t let that be added onto their shoulders. they’d keep it from me, i knew, tryin’ to look after me in return.

* later on, they always said they never blamed me, but... what can i say, i can’t help but figure i coulda done something better.

* in the end, we made it out alright - ‘n by the time Dings was finishin’ the equivalent of high school, i had started studyin’ on the down low, pursuin’ science ‘n mechanics - i had been doing more ‘n more jobs in the field, and a professor noticed my work - after needlin’ me about joinin’ classes but hearin’ why i couldn’t, she basically helped me do a nightschool/correspondence equivalent in exchange for bein’ her lab assistant on weekends. she still paid me for it too, ‘n wouldn’t hear otherwise. i owe a lot to her...

* ...... anyways, i never was quite able to get over all the shit from our childhood. i was always pretty bad with ‘kids’ as a whole, though individually i can manage alright. but... i dunno, even once i was an adult, i really only knew how to handle family - i’d freeze up whenever i was left with some other kid.

* i, uh, curse frequently when i’m with close friends or riled up, literally parkour pretty damn dangerously to travel around and did that even before the void incident, and have no goddamn idea what the hell is age appropriate.

* i might’ve set one of the lab assistant’s kids up with an experimental magi-chem set when they asked me to keep an eye on them while they stepped out for an hour...

* i’m pretty sure my skull is still ringing from the chewin’ out i got for ‘what they might’ve done’ or ‘how they could’ve hurt themselves’ -

* - i mean, i - ‘n my bros - learned by experimenting, but... that’s not really a well-accepted route, apparently.

* and nowadays... the effect i have on kids ‘n what i’ve seen...

* ................

* .... i try to avoid causin’ any problems.

#grim sans #skeletons grim #about grim #long post #woops #he's fucked up on the topic #;v;b #very literally panics bc 'oh god what the hell do i do with this small being'#'EVERYTHING I DO IS DANGER'#'OR VOID'#'FUCK'#astertale

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odderancyart · 6 years

Text

On a Never Resting Sea

Chapter XI: A Sea’s Star Sky

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Razz, the heir of the Beobyrian Empire, is on his way home from a diplomatic mission as his ship gets attacked by pirates. Suddenly he finds himself taken as hostage, and it doesn’t seem like the pirates are planning to exchange him for a ransom anytime soon. How annoying.

Warnings: violence, death, blood, hostage holding, kidnapping, prostitution

Razz was fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The light purple vest he was wearing had slipped up a bit due to his inability to keep his fingers still. Honestly, he was surprised the pirates hadn’t taken his very extensive wardrobe of purple clothes as well as his jewellery. The colour was worth three times its weight in gold – much more than a couple of the necklaces they’d stolen.

This was one of the reasons they wanted Trima. Trima was the only place in Natéa where the snails purple was extracted from could live. No one knew exactly why, it was just how it was.

Also, his boots needed a polish, he realized. The black was turning a little grey…

He was stalling. Razz was stalling and he goddamn knew it. This was very unqueenly, he told himself. With a deep sigh, he squared his shoulders and forced himself to walk toward Red’s cabin. He had made his decision. So be it he couldn’t take Red as his spouse, but he was still in love with him and pretending otherwise would only make him unhappy. That was one of the few things he had learnt from the fairy tales the storytellers who sometimes came to the castle told. At the time, he had huffed. Love wasn’t for him, and neither was he interested in it.

That felt like an eternity ago.

But even if he couldn’t pursue Red further than something fleeting, temporary, he would do it. Perhaps the love would go away. Perhaps not, but then he would at least get to feel it – if Red felt the same, and why wouldn’t he, Razz was great? – and he could think back at it when he was home and ruling his realm and empire. After all, if they didn’t have sex there would be no actual consequences coming from it. And they wouldn’t have sex, it was as simple as that.

Nodding, content with the explanation he gave himself, Razz breathed deeply as he stood before the cabin door. Raising a fist, he forced himself to knock. Hard. He didn’t breathe when footsteps came from inside and the door opened. With sinking soul, he found himself face to face with the cook. The elemental seemed to raise an eyebrow – even if it was hard to tell with his kind – before grinning(?) and turning around.

“…It’s for you, Red,” he said, stepping to the side. Red was sitting by a small desk, a gun in his hands and tiny parts in front of him. The pirate looked up, a grin appearing on his face as he spotted Razz. The elemental looked between them, seemingly amused. “…I’ll leave you alone.”

“thanks, grillbz, yer th’ best,” Red replied, shoving out his chair and standing out. ‘Grillbz’ left.

Razz’s soul was pounding as he stared at the other. Trying to remember how he had been planning on doing this. Whenever he heard about something like this at home, it was like something from the stories. The Court always did everything over-the-top. He too, obviously. But as it was he didn’t really have the resources for it. How had he been planning to do this?

Razz dragged in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure when he had stopped breathing. Tilting his head, Red stared at him with concerned eyelights.

“is everythin’ alri-“

Interrupting him, Razz blurted it out, “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND IF YOU FEEL THE SAME I WOULD LIKE TO PURSUE SOME KIND OF RELATIONSHIP.”¨

He breathed deeply again, standing tense and anxious in the now complete silence. Red was staring at him with wide sockets. His mouth was hanging open. Swallowing, Razz waited for him to say something.

The air felt thick, almost hard to breathe while they stood staring at each other. Razz forced himself not to look away from the other. The beats of his soul felt heavy. Swallowing, he closed his sockets for a moment, wondering whether he should say something more.

The sound of footsteps reached him, and he slowly opened his sockets again. Razz found himself face to face with Red, and the other was smiling brightly. His sockets widened. Did that mean- Before he could finish the thought the other bowed forward and pressed a skeleton kiss to his cheek. Razz’s soul made a somersault.

“i’d like tha’,” Red said, taking Razz’s hands in his. It was warm. “very much.”

Red’s soul was pounding in his chest as Razz’s face lit up. The other looked so goddamn happy, and it made his entire body feel tingly in joy. He hadn’t ever actually expected Razz to love him – not that he had expected to fall in love himself, either – but now when he knew the other did he just wanted to kiss him. The empress’ smile was as bright as Zanã during a cloudless day and his eyelights shone like stars. He was stunning. Smiling, he lifted a hand to Razz’s cheek, and held it. The bone was warm. Almost soft. A great contrast to his own bones, which was rough and hard after a life working hard outside.

“can i kiss ya?” he asked, unsure whether the other would think it was okay. Razz looked hesitant, but then nodded once, seeming determined.

Smiling wider, Red leaned down toward the other and pressed their teeth together. Razz’s movements were insecure, a bit clumsy. Nonetheless, it was the best kiss Red had ever had. This chaste kiss was a thousand times better than every bodily intimate but emotionally distant kiss he’d shared with Blueberry or the other countless whores he’d visited added together.

Their fangs scraped together as they parted. Razz’s cheeks were flushed slightly and he was smiling. Beaming, even.

“I CAN’T MARRY YOU,” Razz suddenly said, and the warm atmosphere broke. Red froze, a memory flashed through his mind.

“i know,” he replied, despite the sinking feeling in his chest. Stars damn it. The Plan. Razz was in love with him, they were almost there. Fell and Undyne would want to proceed with the plan soon, and that’d mean Razz’s downf-

A clattering stopped his thoughts right there, luckily. Blinking, he realized Razz wasn’t standing in front of him anymore. He spun around in alarm. Razz was standing by his desk, twisting the gun he’d been working with in his hands. It wasn’t loaded, but fucking hell. Everyone would kill him if they got to know he’d let Razz close to a weapon. His pulse slowed down slightly when he realized Razz was only studying it. The other looked up, seeming curious.

“THIS GUN LOOKS ODD,” Razz observed, turning it again. “I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE LIKE IT, AND BEOBYRA’S GOT THE BIGGEST WEAPON PRODUCTIONS IN NATÉA.”

Chuckling, Red stepped closer to him. Their arms were touching slightly, and his soul fluttered. They could do that now, at least when they were alone. Nodding, he moved his phalange over a small bone and an ‘R’ on the barrel. Undyne had taught him to write his name when they first met, and he signed all his guns with that little symbol.

“tha’s ‘cause i built tha’ one,” he explained. “’m th’ master gunner on sarynthia ‘n’ i also build all our guns. they're better than even yers.”

“THAT’S CONFIDENT OF YOU TO SAY.” Razz raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Then he blinked. “WAIT. WHO TAUGHT A BASTARD SON OF A WHORE – NO OFFENCE – TO BUILD GUNS?”

Snorting, Red took the gun from the other’s hand, spinning it on his fingers absentmindedly. Razz stared at him as he did.

“none taken,” he assured his… lover? “’n’ no one. i taught myself. nearly blasted my head off mor’n once, but what can ya do? normal guns aren’t tha’ hard to make, but mine are a lil’ more complicated ‘n’ easier to blow up if ya do ‘t wrong.”

By now, Razz’s sockets were huge. Tilting his head, Red chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“what?”

“YOU FUCKING TAUGHT YOURSELF TO BUILD GUNS BETTER THAN OURS?”

“well yeah. not everyone’s got fancy smanchy private tutors ta teach ya everythin’ ya need ta know, sweetheart. if my bro or i wanted ta know how ta do somethin’, we taught ourselves. our uncle ‘n’ sala’s – ma’s – cousin were busy tryin’ ta make sure we didn’ starve ta death. not tha’ they knew a lot either. street rats don’t tend t’ do tha’,” he pointed out.

A wide grin stretched over his face at the disbelieving expression on the other’s face. His soul felt slightly warmer and he stood a little straighter at how impressed the empress looked.

It was nice. Especially coming from someone who knew and could so much as Razz did.

Razz leaned over the railing, letting the freezing wind hit his face. If he ignored the shouts of the crew, if almost felt like being at the beach at home during wintertime. The prow of the ship had quickly become one of his favourite places and he’d even like to climb out on the bowsprit and sit there like he’d seen a few crewmembers do – for example that fire girl, Fuku, who always were climbing around despite how people yelled at her to get down – but that’d be stupid. He had no wish to fall into the ice-cold water and get dragged beneath the ship and crushed or drowned. He liked to live.

Shivering slightly, he dragged the fur-edged coat hood over his head to keep in the warmth. Perhaps it was time to go inside. Razz smiled slightly at the low sun washing them in the soft, chilly light of a winter afternoon. When he turned around to go down beneath deck again, he realized that the captain was standing alone for once, leaning toward the railing as well only a few meters away. It reminded him that he still did not know why he was still here. Why they hadn’t demanded a ransom yet and returned him to Beobyra where he belonged.

Well, time to get some answers.

He marched over to her, informing her about his incoming presence by letting his heels clack unusually hard against the wooden deck. She hardly glanced at him but her grin grew wider. Toothier. Undyne had fucking sharp fangs, that was for sure. Without bothering to acknowledge the hand she raised slightly in greeting, Razz crossed his arms and glared at her.

“WHY AM I STILL HERE?” he asked without preamble. She raised an eyebrow.

“What do ya mean, Majesty?” she replied, staring out at the waves rolling over the sea’s surface. “Why you’re still on the ship ‘cause I haven’t thrown your annoying ass into the ocean yet? You need to clarify.”

Razz froze at the rude reply. He threw a quick gaze to the same place before scowling and waving his hand before her face to get her attention. Finally, she actually looked his way, and his glare got more vicious.

“WHY HAVEN’T YOU EXCHANGED ME FOR A RANSOM YET, CAPTAIN? I DEMAND TO KNOW,” he explained, despite knowing that she had understood him perfectly the first time. Shrugging, she didn’t answer. Seemed to wait for him to leave. He didn’t.

After a short while during neither of them spoke, Razz cleared his throat and asked again, “WELL?”

Suddenly, Undyne’s expression grew still and cold. Probably because she realized he wasn’t going to give up. An almost terrifying grin replaced the teasing one that had been there only moments before. Against his will, Razz felt himself flinch slightly.

“Listen here, Majesty,” she said, towering over him. She was even taller than Fell and therefore, when she covered the sun, the entirety of Razz’s being was covered in shadow. He had to narrow his sockets to be able to see her, with the sunrays surrounding her almost like an aureole. Like a demon who had stolen an angel’s glory.

“You’re not here on vacation, and I’m sure you know that perfectly well. The reason why you’re still here will anger you. Extremely much. You’d probably be livid if I told you and I would be forced to lock you into your cabin again. Permanently. But no matter if I tell you or not, you will know why you’re still here once you’ve fulfilled your purpose. This gives you a choice here. Either you know now, and you won’t be allowed out of your cabin again. Or you stay ignorant and get to smell the fresh air and enjoy the sunlight meanwhile. So, which will it be, Your Majesty?”

Razz stared at her, feeling fury bubble inside him. He clenched his fists hard, claws digging into the bone. The piercing, triumphant stare she gave him let him know that she was completely serious. She would lock him into the cabin for the Mother knows how long if he demanded to be told the truth. He couldn’t take that again. He’d go insane. Gritting his teeth, Razz glared at her, letting all his hatred shine through. Her grin only widened.

“I DON’T NEED TO KNOW, CAPTAIN,” he slowly hissed out through his fangs.

Those were the hardest words he had ever spoken, and his soul was pounding hard in fury. Undyne nodded at him, once. Then she turned back to the ocean again, basically sending him away. Like he was some common servant. Razz’s fists clenched harder, he was pretty sure he was drawing marrow by now, and he stormed away toward the mast. There was no fucking way he was going inside now, cold be damned.

He leaned toward the mast, clutching his coat closer around him. Night was falling and the already low temperature was sinking. Winters this far north were dark. More moon than sun. Razz’s breaths turned to vapor as he blew into his hands for warmth and he hummed the music box’s old melody. Slowly he felt some of his anger dissipate. Most of it was still there though, making his soul pound and his fists clench. The powerlessness he felt was almost as astounding as awful.

The sky turned dark, and he shivered where he was standing. Still grinding his teeth, he watched the crew work, watched Undyne leave without throwing more than a glance his way. He saw the first stars on the sky being lit. He unclenched a hand to hold up toward one of them, grasping for it. Razz stared at the second star of night. The small, trustworthy, purple glow in the middle of a midnight blue void. Without blinking, he wished.

Razz wished that he’d get to go home soon. He wished that his brother was alright. Then, just before turning his gaze away to seal his desires, a small, quiet, sudden thought came to him. He wished that he’d get to be happy, and that Red would get to be happy. His soul pulsed to give weight to the last, almost shy wish. To give it the strength it needed to reach the Mother so she may grant it if She found him worthy. Then he quickly turned his eyes away from the sky above and from the second star. Now he could only hope.

Closing his sockets for a while, he swallowed. Ice was beginning to form at the tip of the fur, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to go inside. The waves almost drowned out the sound of the crewmembers still on deck, and when he breathed deeply he could almost feel Her comforting presence in the world. Razz wanted to believe She would make sure everything ended well, and therefore he did believe. Normally the Mother favoured those who took care of the matter themselves, but She was merciful and kind. She would know he had no power over his situation. She would guide him home.

Razz’s soul had calmed down into a rhythmic beating and he loosened the grip on his cape. He was shivering violently, yet felt no wish to leave for the warmth. Leaning toward the hard wood, he opened his sockets again. The sky had darkened now. The process was fast during midwinter. Hundreds of stars dotted the void above. Soon it’d be thousands. Millions. Billions.

Laughter woke him up from his thoughts, and he blinked, turning his gaze down from the night sky. Over deck Red and another crewmember walked. They were both grinning and talking in each other’s mouths. The crewmember caught his gaze and waved, which made Red turn and wave as well. Razz’s soul skipped a beat at the happiness on his he-wouldn’t-say-lover’s face. When they came up to him, he smiled. The anger he had felt was almost gone, just like the day.

“what’re ya still doin’ out, razz?” Red asked, sounding slightly concerned. His grin had softened into a gentle smile.

Taking a deep breath of the now freezing air, Razz didn’t answer. He didn’t really have a good answer to that, and if you couldn’t give a proper answer you shouldn’t answer at all. When the pirates didn’t get a reply, they shrugged.

“we’re on guard duty,” Red explained, showcasing the blankets in his arms. “lookin’ fer enemy ships. wanna join us in th’ crow’s nest?”

“Unless ya’ve got a problem with heights,” the crewmember added. Razz shook his head, feeling slightly offended. Of course he didn’t have a problem with heights. For one, his private balcony shot out over the rock edge with at least a hundred meters free fall beneath. He had also been in much more dangerous situations.

He had tasted his brother’s cooking once, after all.

Slightly annoyed he hadn’t chosen to wear trousers today, he followed the pirates as they climbed the shroud. The rope was frozen beneath his gloves, and Razz watched in almost awe how they didn’t seem bothered to touch it with their bare hands. He wasn’t wearing his thickest gloves, since he hadn’t originally planned to stay out this long, but it was still a lot more protection than they wore. His skirt and underskirts fluttered around his legs whilst he climbed. The stars spread wider and wider above him the higher he got and his sockets were wide in amazement. The sky was so much brighter than he had ever seen it before.

Even at his own ship, he hadn’t left his cabin during night. At home, the lights from the city and castle dimmed the sky, and even when out on the meadows their torches and campfires prevented them from seeing this. Now though, with no other sources of light than the moon and stars above, they truly shone.

When he reached the top of the main mast, where the Crow’s Nest was placed, Red held out his hand to help him up. He smiled softly, allowing Red to help him despite being very capable of getting up himself, which he pointed out and made the pirates laugh. The crewmembers who had been sitting here before wished them good luck and a boring next few hours before climbing down. They had already vacated the nest before Red and the crewmember had reached it. Which was lucky, because it was cramped with three people in it. Five wouldn’t have been possible.

Red distributed the blankets evenly, and Razz hurried to bury himself in them. He shook from the cold. The other two were thickly dressed as well, even if they did not wear any gloves.

“razz, meet sam,” Red suddenly said, gesturing between him and the crewmember. “sam, razz.”

“Do I get to call him Razz too?” ‘Sam’ asked, smirking slightly. Razz sent her a half-hearted glare. He was getting tired.

“No,” he replied shortly, quieter than normal. It felt wrong to speak loudly. Which was probably for the best, because even his quiet voice multiplied its volume in the silent night. After a moment of hesitance, he continued. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Sam grinned at him, and nodded. She seemed pleased as she spoke again, “Same to you, Majesty.”

Razz watched the stars as the pirates began to watch for ships. Quietly, he hummed the ancient, comforting melody again. The tunes hopped up and down and travelled through the night like pixies. He nodded his head with the rhythm, smiling at the sky. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad to be here. A hand caressed his cheek.

“don’t fall asleep, sweetheart,” Red said. As he did he threw a quick, nervous glance at Sam, though. Razz’s sleepy mind wondered why. “ya may be warm beneath th’ blankets, but ‘t’s still dangerous t’ fall asleep ‘n th’ cold.”

Immediately sitting up straighter and blinking the sleep away, Razz berated himself. What did he think? He knew exactly how dangerous it was to fall asleep. The risk was great to freeze to death in your sleep. He nodded at Red. The other sat down next to him. Close enough for his body warmth to leak through the thick layers of scarves around his neck and reaching Razz.

Razz leaned into Red’s side. It felt like the right thing to do. And it seemed to be. Red’s smile softened and Razz’s soul fluttered at being so close to the other. He felt happy.

“how many star stories do ya know?” Red eventually asked.

“Many,” he simply replied. Astronomy was another subject he had studied. Razz had loved it and been sad once he had to stop in favour of political studies.

“show me.”

Razz showed Red every constellation he knew, giving a small explanation for each one. The Archer. The Ice Horse. The Swordfighter Aní. He drew the lines of the Iron Miner and in the Great Tiger and he told him where to look for the Bear, and the Lovers, and the Scarred One, and the Last Standing. Eventually Sam joined them as well, watching in fascination. In return, Red showed Razz the tales he saw in the sky.

They were different, just like the stories that were told in Beobyra and Peosana were different. Red told him about the Starcrossed, the Dancers, the Great Stag. The Oak Tree and the Diamond Smith were next, and Razz could see them almost as clear as the one he had grown up with. Last, Red smiled and pointed.

“’n’ tha’s th’ assassin, who hunted th’ followers o’ a dangerous warlock, ‘n’ tha’s one o’ our greatest heroes, captain manat.”

Chuckling, Razz nodded, and saw. The fact that Red had saved just those until last was noted.

“What did they do?”

“The Captain saved both our people and the people of Elawain from destruction,” Sam said seriously, smiling toward the stars as well. Red nodded in agreement as she continued. Her voice was deep and slow as she spoke, “In a tale as old as time, a terrible being lived in the Mountains of Diantha. A great beast, who ate stars for lunch and light for dinner. The entire world was dark when it lived there. In the deepest cavern of the highest mountain, it slept every day. Every night it flew over the darkened sky, devouring the stars and leaving only blackness behind. But the stars weren’t enough for it. It burned our farms, burned our holy forest. Ate everything it came across. Our people fled for their lives, but not everyone found shelter. They were devoured, just like the stars.”

She told a tale about a merchant’s child getting blessed by the gods to save them. About how they climbed the largest mountain and came down covered in bronze blood, refusing to tell anyone what had happened, but the body was gone and the Beast did not return. Lastly, she told him how the Peosanira would tell tales about the Captain for a long time, to remember them, remember the Beast, and remember History.

Sam fell quiet again, and Razz nodded slowly. It was not a tale that would have become very popular in Beobyra. Too little about the actual heroics. No Beobyrian would have stayed quiet about the battle like the hero of this story had. But as it was told by a Peosani, who considered this her own history and knew it as fact, he found himself spellbound by her words. She was a lovely storyteller. In fact, he wondered if she hadn’t been the one to sing during Carai Zalû.

Red asked for a Beobyrian story as well, and Razz told him one he knew well. A children’s tale, to be truthful, but it had always been one of his favourites. The story about the Ice Horse, the first of the Beobyrian Icicle horses, and how it had turned the tides of a seemingly lost battle by causing an avalanche. It had saved an entire town from Northern invaders. No one really knew what lied north of Beobyra, it was too cold for anyone to live there. Yet there were myths of warriors covered in the white fur of a Snowy Bear coming from there. No one knew whether they were true or not, but they were who the Ice Horse was said to have defeated.

Eventually, the guard shift came. Razz almost stumbled as he climbed down, half-asleep already, and Red had to hold him up half of the way to the cabin and his bed.

“yer hummin’ again,” Red suddenly said, and Razz looked up at him with half-lidded sockets, confused. “yer always hummin’ tha’ one melody. what ‘s ‘t?”

“Nothing,” Razz replied, yawning widely. “It’s a family song. You’re-“ he stumbled, and grabbed Red’s overcoat to keep his balance. An almost frozen hand on his shoulder kept him upright. “You’re not family, you can’t hear it.”

“hm,” Red simply hummed as they reached the cabin. “well, this ‘s yer station, treasure.”

Razz took a step in before stopping. He turned back to Red.

“Treasure?” he asked curiously.

“yeah, ‘m a pirate. pirates love treasures. and yer th’ most precious thing on th’ ship. treasure.”

“That’s stupid,” Razz mumbled as he managed to sit down on the bed, wondering whether it was worth it to undress. Due to his sleepiness it took a while for him to realize that if he didn’t, he’d be cooked alive in all these clothes inside. He scowled slightly.

“i can avoid t’ use ‘t?” Red offered, but Razz shook his head and smiled slightly, still half asleep. He dragged the coat of his arms. The door squeaked as it began to close.

Just before it did, he spoke again, almost dreaming already, “I like it.”

Red’s warm chuckles still echoed in his ears once he finally could crawl in beneath the sheets.

Red was missing. Well, not really missing, Razz just hadn’t seen him for the whole day and he missed him. They’d been meeting each other so much it was weird not to. He stopped to ask a crewmember where he was, upon which he got an almost gleeful gaze in return for some reason. But he did also get an answer, so it didn’t really matter. Following directions, he walked toward the Captain’s Office.

Hopefully Undyne wouldn’t be there. He had no wishes seeing her again, ever. Voices reached him as he saw a door with golden letters writing out ‘OFFICE’, but he couldn’t make out what the people speaking was saying. Razz scowled when he recognized the captain’s voice. Apparently, he wasn’t that lucky. Once he’d almost reached the door he realized they were arguing. He lifted his hand to knock and interrupt them, but then he blinked and froze. He was quite sure he’d heard his own name.

Unable to say no to his curiosity, he pressed his ear against the door. With the wood multiplying the voices, he was able to make out what they said. That was Red’s voice, and Fell’s, and Undyne’s. All of them were in there.

“I REALIZE THAT IT’S CRUEL, BUT THE PLAN NEEDS TO BE FOLLOWED,” Fell’s dry voice said. There was some shuffling inside. “AND ANYWAY, WHAT HAVE THEY EVERY DONE TO US?”

“C’mon, treasures. It’s the Royal Treasury, that’s bigger than any amount of money we could possibly gather on our own,” Undyne added.

Razz’s sockets widened and he felt his soul skip a beat. Royal Treasury? They couldn’t mean- He held his breath. Splinters dug into his bone as he pressed his head closer and his soul was now beating erratically in fear for what he was going to hear.

“yeah, i know, ‘dyne,” Red said, sounding a bit sour. Razz closed his sockets. “t’s all fer th’ beobyrians’ riches. tha’s why ya want me t’ seduce razz. ‘n’ why we’re kind o’ a couple now-“

The rest of the words were drowned out by the swishing in his ears. Razz blinked, then shook his head slightly. No. It couldn’t be true. He swallowed, and swallowed again whilst what he had heard was processed by his mind. He felt tears spring into his sockets. How could he had been so stupid. How could he had thought that Red loved him. The other was a Peosani, a pirate, a bastard, a criminal. Completely without honour. He sucked in a deep breath. Razz sagged against the door. Red didn’t love him, he just wanted his riches. Beobyra’s riches. Of course he did. Furiously he wiped away the tears which had begun to flow down his cheeks. A spark of anger flowed through him.

How dared he. How dared Red play with his feelings like this? His sockets twitched in fury as he clenched his fist. His soul continued to beat hard and fresh tears escaped, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care. His mouth felt dry as he let out a furious scream and hit the door as hard as he could with a closed fist. The room fell quiet.

Footsteps. Then the door opened. Three faces stared at him in horror, and Razz clenched his jaw as he stared straight at Red. The other opened his mouth to speak, but Razz didn’t let him.

“I trusted you,” he hissed, stepping forward. He was trembling in both fury and sorrow as he walked around the room, glaring at everything. “But that was stupid of me, wasn’t it? You’re a pirate. The worst scum of Natéa. I loved you, but you only wanted my money and power, didn’t you? You never cared about me.”

“razz, treasure, i-“ Red began. His sockets were wide and the eyelights had shrunk to pinpricks. Razz spun around, fast as lightening. Red shut up.

“DON’T YOU DARE,” he said, voice breaking a little at the first word. He grabbed the first, best surface, and gripped tightly. The wood squeaked in protest, and in the corner of his eye he saw how Undyne looked like she was about to say something, but Fell grabbed her wrist. Razz continued, lower, but not quiet, “Don’t you dare call me by my name, or some pet name. It’s ‘Your Imperial Majesty’. Don’t you fucking dare call me anything else.”

Crimson tears gathered in the pirate’s sockets, but Razz didn’t trust it for a moment. Red didn’t care for him, it was all an act. A good one, but an act nonetheless. He stiffened, forcing his hand to unclench. Standing straight and schooling his face into emotionlessness, he turned his gaze away from Red and stared straight at the captain and quartermaster.

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I refuse to stay a single moment longer than necessary on this wretched ship. And since you won’t let me go home, or live on my own, you’re taking me to port. I will go live with that prostitute. Blueberry. I’d rather stay at a brothel than here.”

Again, Undyne looked like she was about to protest. Fell stopped her, seeming solemn, “WE WILL ARRANGE IT.”

Razz forced himself to breath calmly as he nodded, even as his soul tried to escape his ribcage by pounding violently. Forcing himself not to glance at Red, he turned around to leave. In the door, he stopped.

“And if you send him to my cabin again,” he said, jerking his head the pirate’s way, “I cannot promise I won’t hurt him.”

#on a never resting sea #nrs. pt. 11 #welp #this is 5355 words #editing didn't help #swapfell #underfell #undertale #sf sans #uf sans #uf papyrus #underfell undyne #underfell grillby #nrs #my writing

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blatherkatt · 7 years

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Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 13: Two Months Slip By

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of abuse and neglect, blood (minor), Dave has a lot of scars on his arms that are not from self harm but i wanna warn ppl anyway, substance (alcohol) abuse, (drunken) mentions of war and death, description of Alternian bigotry; Illustrated

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Slowly, uncomfortably, with the grace of a cat forcing itself into a too-small box, routine settled in. Time passed.

The routine was simple enough: Five out of seven days of the week, Dirk, Rose, and Rachel would be away most of the day. Dirk would drive Rose to school and drop Rachel off…somewhere; no one but Rachel herself seemed to know what Rachel actually did in terms of a job. Rose, acting on Roxy’s advice, gave Dave a bit more space, which he mostly used to continue holing himself away. Still, he began showing up and joining the rest of the family for dinner, most nights, albeit saying very little. After school, Rose would talk with Kanaya. Karkat usually tried to spend time with Dave during the day when the rest of the family was absent, sometimes with Kanaya tagging along.

Dirk and Rose switched between dealing with dinner, and often Dirk would just pick something up on the way home. One night, somehow, the conversation drifted to the invasion. Rachel, hitting the wine a bit heavy, had started talking about The Good Old Days, making both the trolls visibly uncomfortable, but Rose was too curious to tell her to stop, and Dirk could rarely bring himself to be harsh with his mother when she got like this. She was lonely, he knew, and it was hard to hold it against her. Even when she started talking about Derek.

“He wasn’t always such a…he wasn’t always so bad,” Mom cut in. “I mean, he was always pretty intense, yeah, but he was, he was good once, he could be sweet and he cared, and…”

“Okay, sure,” Rose said, the disbelief in his voice matching Dirk’s own private thoughts on the matter. “I believe that about as much as I believe you used to be considered frightening.”

“More ’n frightening, Rosie,” said Mom, with a grin. “I was a fucking terror. Used to — they used to all gossip, ‘bout that Rachel Lalonde, how she’d kill you before you even knew what hit ya, just, bam, dead! That was my job, picking ‘em off from a distance, and I’d sometimes have ‘em so scared that all you could see of ‘em was the big horns pokin’ out behind whatever cover they could find.”

Karkat gulped. Mom sighed and leaned back, swirling her glass. “Ramona had her own way of dealing with ‘em, but she scares just about everyone, enemy or not, and of course Derek’d be leading the charge for everyone fighting up close, with Benji always right on his heels.”

Dave coughed. Dirk flicked his eyes over, but Dave quickly recovered after taking a sip of apple juice.

“We had a system,” Mom went on. “Me and Ramona and Derek were young, but everyone we’d managed to get together in that mall trusted us to take charge, because we were good at it, and we only had a few people die during that whole six years. We were quite the little oddball family, we were…” Mom chuckled humorously, looking at the dark red wine in her glass with a heaviness in her eyes. “Would y’look at me,” she said, “nostalgic over a damn war.”

Dave shifted again.

“Why?” Karkat said, breaking through his own obvious discomfort at the topic. “It sounded like the fighting was fucking awful!”

“It was,” Rachel sighed. “But…but we were a family, the four of us.” She snorted slightly. “Well, five if you count Ben, I guess. We all lost our parents, although I never did get the story behind what happened to the Strider boys’ folks, they never talked about it, but. We were all kids — well, Ramona was more of an adult, and she already had Roxy, but still — we, we all had each other, and we were doing okay, even if it was a war. And then…and then, and then, just.” She took a sip of her wine. “Then poor Dave died, and with him gone, everything fell apart…”

“Um,” said Kanaya.

“Wait, what?” said Karkat.

“Okay, Mom,” Dirk said, “I think you’ve probably had enough wine for tonight.”

Rose was about to add her own comment, when Dave spoke up. “She isn’t talking about me,” he said, softly. Mom shook her head.

“Nooo, not you, baby,” she said. “Derek’s li’l bro, he was named Dave. We named you after him.” She blinked, then looked at Dave. “You know about him?” she said. Dave nodded.

“B-uh, I mean Br-fuck, Dad talked about him sometimes when he was drunk, yeah,” Dave said. Dirk narrowed his eyes. Something about the way he stumbled across that sentence felt like he wasn’t getting the full story, but for now Dirk let it slide. Roxy’d said to be patient, so he’d wait for the rest to come out when Dave was ready.

Instead, he turned to Mom. “We have an uncle?”

“Had,” she said, rubbing at one eye as though fighting back tears. “Had, sweetheart. I never - I don’t talk about him, I know, I’m sorry, I shoulda mentioned him before…he was…he was such a good kid, he didn’t deserve what happened to him at all, and he died and…ugh.”

She took another long sip of wine. “When I was about three months pregnant with you two,” she said, gesturing at Dave and Rose, “s’ when it happened. And…and poor Derek, he was never the same after, he wouldn’t let me in anymore, and, and I don’t know what I did wrong, nevermind if he loved me or not, I couldn’t even get through to him as a friend afterward. And when you two were born, and one of you was a boy, I thought, I, well, might as well name one after Dave, maybe help save his memory? Maybe it was a bad idea, Derek went real quiet when I suggested it, I don’t know…”

“What the fuck is an uncle,” Karkat whispered to Kanaya, a bit too loud. Dave snorted quietly.

Rose tapped her fingers gently against her leg. “Why haven’t you mentioned him to us before now?”

“I don’t like thinking about him, honey,” Mom whined. “It makes me — it’s so sad, he was such a— he was such a good friend, and he did so much to help us all out in the mall, and he didn’t, he didn’t deserve what happened to him at all.” She was actively weeping, now, tears cutting messy trails through her makeup and landing in her wine glass.

“I really think you’ve had enough to drink, Mom,” Dirk said, as gentle as he could manage.

“There’s not enough booze in the world to drown all my sorrows, hun,” was her reply.

“And now you know what I mean when I say I’m all Bro’s got,” Dave said.

He’d just finished answering some questions Karkat had had regarding the ‘uncle,’ Dave’s namesake. Rachel’s story had been…hard to follow. Karkat still felt pretty fucking strongly that Strider didn’t deserve Dave by a long shot, but he guessed he could kind of understand why Dave felt like he had to stay. It was a shitty reason, sure, but guilt was a bitch like that.

“I still think it’s a pretty dumb thing to say,” Karkat grumbled, “and you really don’t fucking owe anything to some asshole who got himself killed before you were born, but whatever, sure, fine, you’ve got some weird obligation because family. He’s got that other guy, though, doesn’t he?”

Dave snickered, catching Karkat by surprise. “Yeah, I can’t believe his full name’s fucking— uh, shit, nevermind, forget I said anything,” he said, hurriedly.

“No, what? Where were you going with that?”

“Nowhere, man, it was stupid, don’t worry about it. C’mon, man, lemme have some fuckin’ secrets. Fuck knows you’re private as hell, you don’t get to read my diary and keep yours under lock in Fort goddamned Knox. Gotta at least let me catch a peek if you wanna know anything else.”

“Fine,” Karkat said, sitting down cross-legged with a grunt. They were in Karkat’s room, Dave laying on the floor with his legs awkwardly propped up on the bed. He looked fucking ridiculous, especially when he tried to twist to look at Karkat.

“What?”

“Fine, as in fair trade you fucking imbecile,” said Karkat. “Go on, ask me a question from my weird human diary, whatever the fuck that is. Go on, hit me.”

(No, pump biscuit, this was not a pale thing, shut up. It was some sort of weird human diary swapping ritual, or something. Nothing pale about it. Besides, Dave had sort of revealed that whole thing about getting caught with his phone a while before, and Karkat still felt sort of weird about the one-sidedness.)

“Well, uh…shit, okay, been wondering this for a while. I know you’re like, a space refugee and shit, but I don’t really get why, so. There’s my question, I guess, why’d you come to Earth?”

Karkat took a deep breath. Okay, he should’ve seen that coming. He could probably back out, right? He could just say that wasn’t something he wanted to talk about?

Except, Dave had opened up to him before, and it was obvious he wouldn’t open up to anyone else. And…Okay, yeah, maybe he did have a very slight pale crush, and if Dave was so determined to pale flirt with him, then so be it.

He took a long, thoughtful pause, before finally asking, “How much do you actually know about the hemospectrum?”

Dave tipped his head. “Are you leadin’ up to something, or are you tryin’ to change the subject? Cuz if you don’t wanna answer, man, you can just fuckin’ say so—“

“Dave, if you really haven’t realized by now that if I wanted you to stop asking, I would have told you to shove it up your waste chute, then you haven’t been paying attention. Trust me, I’m asking because it’s relevant.”

“A’ight.” Dave shifted. “Uh, hemospectrum, lemme think…it sure is a thing that fuckin’ exists.” Karkat groaned. “I know it’s about your blood, right?” Dave continued. “How it’s all in weird colors and some of y’all are really weird about it?”

“It’s not just a ‘weird thing,’ you culturally insensitive ignoramus,” Karkat said gently. “It’s everything on our planet. Your blood color has everything to do with who you can be, not to mention how long you’ll live and what you’re capable of. Different colors tend to have different abilities, psychic powers and so on, and the higher on the hemospectrum you are, the longer you’ll live and the better off you are in society. At the bottom are rust bloods, and at the top are the super rare fuschia bloods, who compete for the position of Emperor or Empress. Usually Empress, honestly. I’ve never heard of us having an Emperor.”

“Okay, and?”

“And under the old Condesce, culling was really common and the spectrum was super harshly fucking enforced. Highbloods could kill lowbloods with no punishment, and anyone who was deemed too weak could just be taken out, end of discussion. And then the new Empress took over, and started making changes. They’ve been implemented slowly, which is probably good, but it’s clear she was always intending on moving this way. No more culling, highbloods have to treat lowbloods with more respect, those who are better off should try to help those who need it, and so on and so forth.”

“That…that sounds pretty decent,” Dave said. “So, wait, then, if the new head honcho’s doin’ tryin’ to set things right, why are so many trolls running away from Alternia?”

“Because a lot of the highbloods there are really not fucking happy about these new changes.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. They’re taking things into their own hands, claiming the Empress is weak and seeking out ‘cull-bait’ themselves. The Empress is doing everything she can to stop them, but it’s a really big fucking planet, and there’s a lot of highbloods and even some midbloods who are doing this shit. She hasn’t been able to catch all of them. And even the ones who aren’t actively hunting lowbloods and cullbait, they’re just as awful to those people as they’ve always been. You have to understand, Dave,” Karkat said, his eyes serious, “highbloods live a really long fucking time. A ton of these bastards have been around way longer than the oldest lowblood, and they’re not willing to change. So, yeah, Alternia’s been getting better, but at the same time it’s also gotten a lot worse, because it’s so dangerous and so many other people in power besides the Empress just don’t care enough to enforce any of her reforms. She’s doing all she can, but it’s too dangerous.”

Dave was silent a long moment. “So…where do you fit into all that mess?” he asked. “Are you a, uh, a rustblood?”

Karkat snorted. “Wouldn’t that be nice,” he grumbled. “I’m…Look, this doesn’t leave this room, right? It’s just between us?”

“Shit, yeah, man,” Dave said. “I figured that went without saying. I mean, this conversation’s gotten absurdly fucking personal, and you didn’t go blab my fuckin’ sob story about Bro breakin’ my phone to anyone, so I figured we had a kinda understanding about this shit anyway? But yeah, sure, my lips are sealed.”

“Okay,” Karkat said. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried his best to steel his nerves. “I’m a mutant, Dave.” Dave tilted his head, but said nothing, waiting for a better explanation. “I’m not on the hemospectrum. My blood’s the same color as you humans’, apparently, which was fucking surreal to find out about.” Dave nodded, started to say something, then thought better of it, and let Karkat continue. “I’m not supposed to fucking exist. I’m the most pathetic of cullbait out there, might as well have a ‘Kill Me’ sign flashing over my head in giant, flashing neon letters for all to see.

“And what’s worse is my eyes are starting to change. Like, you thought I was a rustblood, and for now I can still hide as one, but eventually they’re going to be bright ass red, same as yours, and when that happens I’m royally fucked. I’ve been hiding basically my entire life, sitting in my hive practicing hiding whenever anyone looking to be in a particularly bad mood came by, because for all my bluster about being a big tough guy, the fact is I’m not much of a fighter. Not when I’m up against foes five times my sides with optional chucklevoodoos or mind control. Hiding’s the only chance I had, and…and in the end, that wasn’t enough, because some asshole in my neighborhood tipped off our local cullbait hunters that there was a hemoanon in the area, and they were sniffing around and getting too close to my hive, and I had to tuck my tail firmly between my legs and retreat, snivvelling and grovelling, to Earth, because all my friends had already come here and they couldn’t protect me.”

“Holy shit,” Dave said softly. “Dude, holy shit.”

“And the worst part,” Karkat said, “The worst part is that as much as I hated always having to hide and how cruel all the people there were, I…I miss it? I mean, it was awful, I know that, I know that Earth’s an objectively better place and I’m way safer here even if I did get grubnapped by a terrorist, but —“

“But it was home,” Dave said.

“Yeah. That’s a weird word for it, but yeah.”

Dave shifted a little closer, not touching Karkat at all but now sitting upright next to him. Silence filled the space for a long moment.

At long last, he said, “We really are just two assholes in the same sinking ship, aren’t we? Got our leaky-ass bowls and empty cans out, scooping and bailing away, but this shitty boat’s goin’ nowhere but down, and I ain’t brought my floaties.”

Karkat snorted. “You really do have some bizarre ramble for every occasion, don’t you?”

Dave grinned.

For all her disdain over the alien who seemed to know her brother better than she did, Rose would concede one good thing about this whole messy process of familial integration: Kanaya was a fascinating conversation partner. She had a lot to say about her job, about her own life on Alternia, and in particular about Aunt Ramona’s books. Rose took to speaking to Kanaya on a fairly regular basis, often settling in to do so as soon as she got home from school (homework could wait until later; she had a guest, after all!).

“—and I am still adjusting to some of the differences between our rainbow drinkers and your vampires,” said Kanaya one day, while they discussed one of Aunt Ramona’s books which Kanaya had particularly enjoyed. “Particularly the difficulty with daylight, as on our world, it’s quite the opposite. Rainbow drinkers are said to be very fond of daylight, and indeed to be quite luminescent!”

“I suppose their being diurnal makes sense, since trolls are nocturnal,” Rose commented, “but, luminescent, really? I suppose they’d have to hunt in the day in order to not be spotted by prey if they’re literally glowing.”

“Well, some stories show them being able to turn it off,” said Kanaya. “Still, the occasional bout of confusion aside, I did really enjoy Fangs for the Memories. I was a bit uncertain, at first, with how Sinestra was being a bit manipulative to keep Alicia doing her job, but it did come out to a very fitting conclusion, I thought.”

“Vampires being manipulative is fairly standard fare in literature concerning them,” said Rose. “They have some aspects of their portrayal in common with the Fair Folk, although they’re hardly a creature you’d expect to see in such places as those inhabited by the Lords and the Ladies.”

“I have noticed that,” said Kanaya. “It seems we have tricksters in common, but such beings seem to be more common in your folklore, whereas on Alternia those who win by wit rather than by skill and natural power and wisdom tend to be geared more toward children,” she said with a wince. “They’re generally regarded as escapist fiction, but it seems you humans love it at all ages.”

“Well, it’s only natural for a species that survived on wits to have such a fondness for the witty,” Rose said.

“I’m glad of it,” said Kanaya. “Although I am a bit confused about how Alicia supposedly outwitted Sinestra just by hiding within her own home? The door wasn’t even locked, and the book mentioned many times how Sinestra is very physically strong, and yet she couldn’t come inside?”

“She wasn’t invited,” Rose said. “That’s another bit of folklore that vampires share with the Fair Folk. It ultimately boils down to both being very closely adherent to following rules, which means that a vampire cannot enter a building they have not been invited into. There are of course dozens of loopholes they can use, but none were available to Sinestra, and so she was forced to wait out in the rain, until she sincerely apologized for that whole mess with the werewolf. Quite a fair bit of retribution, I’d say, as well as a nice shifting of the power dynamics.”

“That’s an odd weakness to have.”

“Oh, there’s all sorts of mythology we have about inviting things in,” said Rose. “Vampires, fairies, the devil. In more xenophobic tales, you have the dangers of offering hospitality to dark forces we cannot understand, trying only to be kind, and being rewarded with death or worse for our foolishness. Yet, to add confusion, other stories warn against failing to offer hospitality, and being punished for crossing beings which could so easily destroy us. Still others caution against taking shelter under the wing, sometimes literally, of a being that could destroy us. “Will you walk into my parlor,” said the spider to the fly,’ and all that.”

“That sounds like a fantastic way for the fly to get itself eaten alive,” said Kanaya.

“Too right,” said Rose, “And the fly knows it. But the spider is charming, he acts sweet and offers her flattery and gifts, and she is drawn in…and inevitably eaten. Charmingly dark little poem, that one.”

“I fear I can relate to the poor fly,” Kanaya winced. “I’ve had my fair share of mistakes in that regard…Still, what an odd thing to have so many stories based on.”

“What can I say? We’re a curious lot,” Rose said.

“Curious?”

Rose scooted slightly closer to Kanaya, and winked gently as she added, “There’s something so deeply intriguing to the thought of inviting some strange, mysterious being from worlds unknown into your home. The danger only makes it more…exciting.”

Kanaya blushed slightly, and gulped. “Yes, well,” she said, smoothing the wrinkles on her skirt, “I suppose, that’s, um…Hm. Didn’t you just finish telling me a human story about how flattery is to be regarded with caution? I’m not the one in a stranger’s house, here.”

Rose chuckled. “‘Sweet creature,’” she quoted, “‘You’re witty and you’re wise!’ And just as dangerous to me as I might be to you, I would think. You may have come into my parlor, but it’s still we who have asked in a mysterious stranger from worlds unknown. And a very lovely one, no less.”

“I don’t know whether to be charmed or terrified,” said Kanaya, coy.

“I’d say —“ Something crashed in the basement, interrupting Rose and bringing a scowl to her face. “God dammit, Dirk,” she muttered. “We may have to finish this tomorrow, I’m afraid. I need to make sure my dear brother hasn’t blown one of his robots and/or himself to smithereens.”

“Oh, dear,” said Kanaya. “Best of luck, then. I’d be glad to chat again any time, so long as you promise not to trap me in any spider’s web,” she said with a smile.

Rose smiled back and winked.

It was a little over halfway through May, Dirk was driving himself and Rose home from school on what was his last day of the semester (Rose still had another week), and he was fucking exhausted. Three hour finals were an absolutely monstrous concept. As soon as he got home, he was going to collapse on his bed downstairs and sleep like the fucking dead.

That plan was, to his irritation, derailed as they pulled up on the gravel driveway to the sight of Dave on the roof. He was looking at Karkat, who was standing below and shouting up at him. Kanaya was standing near Karkat, with her head cradled in one hand.

“Just do that fucking bullshit flicker thing already!”

“Not with my — ow, Jesus, you fucking furball, I’m trying to — my arms are full of angry animal here, Karkat, I’m not going to risk breaking my fucking LEGS, Jesus Christ he fucking bit me, ow ow ow, fuck!” Dave shouted back. “Just — motherfuck, ow ow ow, just go dig a goddamned ladder out of the garage or something! Preferably before Dirk getsssssshit he’s home, fuck, fuck, fuck ow goddamned cat —!!”

Dirk, halfway out the car door, exchanged an exhausted look with Rose. She shot him a look of mixed amusement and sympathy.

Dirk sighed and closed the car door behind him, Rose following close behind as he strode toward the trolls. He gestured up at Dave, his eyebrow crooked in a question.

“Jaspers apparently got himself trapped on the roof,” Kanaya explained, as Karkat continued shouting at Dave, who had gone quiet. “Dave somehow got himself onto the roof to rescue him, except apparently Dave is now also trapped up there.”

“He says he can’t do the fucking flickery teleport thing —“

“Flashstep,” Dirk said, interrupting Karkat.

“Whatever, fine. He can’t flashstep because the cat keeps attacking him?” Karkat said, incredulously. The statement was highlighted by another yelp from Dave.

“Makes sense,” Dirk said. “It’s not really teleporting, just moving really fast. You gotta be really careful about how you do it between different elevations, and it’s asking for trouble to attempt a jump from that height with both hands full. Especially if what you’re holding is being really distracting.”

“Should we get the ladder out, then?” Rose commented dryly. “I’m sure you could handle it, but you are so tired, after all.”

Dirk didn’t let himself react to the barbed comment. “I can handle it,” he said. There was a tree near the wall by Dave; it was an easy matter to use it and the wall to bounce up to the roof. Three quick flashsteps and he was next to his brother, who reacted with a jolt.

There was blood visible dripping down his hands and seeping through his shirt sleeves. Cat really had done a number on him, then. Dirk sighed, too tired to fully register the way the soft breath made Dave stiffen, and took the cat from him. Jaspers, upon realizing he was no longer being held by Dave, but instead a human he considered more trustworthy, settled down and let Dirk carefully shift him to his shoulder.

“Meet me in the kitchen,” Dirk said, before carefully flashstepping down the same way he’d gotten up. Back on the ground, he handed the cat off to his sister, who cradled the animal, stroking his fur soothingly. Dave, after a moment’s hesitation, turned around, stepped backward off the roof (eliciting a shocked gasp from Kanaya and a worried yelp from Karkat), easily caught the windowsill leading into his own room on the way down, and pulled himself in.

Dirk hurried into the house, making a beeline for the hall bathroom. He’d need the first aid kit, for sure; Dave’s arms had gotten pretty beat up, from the look of things. He arrived in the kitchen just as Dave came silently down the stairs. Dave was fidgeting, shifting his weight from foot to foot and clenching and unclenching his hands.

“I never left the house,” he said, quietly. “I’m—I’m sorry for being up there, but I didn’t leave the house, I swear, I got up there from my window, and, the cat wouldn’t stop meowing and I felt bad for him, and —“

“Good,” said Dirk, quietly, “I’m glad you never left the house. That’s not really important right now, though. Let me see your arms.”

“…Am I in trouble?”

“For trying to get the cat off the roof? Of course not,” Dirk said. “Give me your arm, though. Gotta get it cleaned off. Cat scratches have a nasty tendency of getting infected.”

“Oh,” said Dave, “fan-fucking-tastic.” He still hesitated a long moment before holding his right arm out; Dirk took him by the wrist and gently pulled him toward the sink (and couldn’t help but notice the white scars crisscrossing his skin underneath the fresh wounds, nor could he ignore how worryingly thin Dave’s arm seemed. Dirk had to take a deep breath to force down the rush of anger toward their father to keep focused on the task at hand). He ran a cloth under the water for a moment, then carefully wiped the blood away from Dave’s wounds. They weren’t as bad as they’d looked on the roof, but Jaspers had definitely done a number on Dave. As gently as he could manage, Dirk toweled off Dave’s arm, and reached for the bottle of disinfectant.

“This is gonna sting a little,” Dirk murmured, dabbing the disinfectant on one of the wounds. Dave nearly jerked his arm out of Dirk’s grasp. “Sorry. I’ll be fast,” Dirk promised, and Dave nodded numbly. Cleaning finally done, Dirk started bandaging each scratch (and the one bite on Dave’s wrist).

“Really keep an eye on that one,” he said, gesturing at the bite. “Bites are even worse when it comes to cats, you can’t be too careful.”

Dave nodded mutely. Dirk was vaguely aware that the others had come in, and that Karkat watching him with an odd expression. He paid the troll no mind.

Dirk inspected Dave’s arm one last time, and, satisfied, said, “Other one,” releasing Dave’s wrist.

Dave hesitated even longer this time, and his hand shook a little as he offered it. When Dirk grabbed his left wrist, Dave flinched away hard.

“Hey, you okay?” Dirk asked, concerned.

“Y-yeah,” Dave mumbled. “Sorry, it’s, uh, reflex.” He offered his arm again, and Dirk tried holding it a little higher up this time.

As he was cleaning off and bandaging the wounds, Dirk noticed a particularly bizarre looking scar running up Dave’s left wrist; it had marks like the wound had been stitched shut, but they were messy, haphazard, and the skin all around it looked…off. Pinched and warped in a way that looked uncomfortable. Dirk nodded his head toward it.

“The hell happened with that?” he asked.

“Um,” Dave mumbled, “Got caught off guard once, and my hand got cut, and, uh. I wouldn’t stop bitching about it, ‘cuz I was worried about losing my drawin’ hand, an’ shit, so Br- fuck, uh, Dad called in a buddy of his who stitched it up. It took a really long time to heal, even stitched up, and, uh.” He shrugged. “I still can’t use it much. Wound up fucking it up worse with stitches, so good job on me for complaining, there’s a self goddamn fulfilling prophecy for you. Can’t hold a fuckin’ pencil with it anymore, or anything smaller’n a sword hilt, really.”

Dirk paused. “…Shit,” he said softly. Then, louder, “Well, when you’re off house arrest, I can talk to Mom about it. There’s no guarantee, but I’d imagine that might be fixable with surgery. Once we can get you into a doctor, it’s worth a shot.”

“….You think so?”

“It’s possible.” He put on the last bandage, then made another once-over. “Alright, that’s the last of them,” he said. “Again, keep an extra eye on the bite, infected cat bites are not something you wanna ignore.”

“……Got it,” Dave said, softly, rubbing at his wrist. “Can I…”

“You can head upstairs if you want. I just wanted to make sure the scratches got cleaned.”

“Thanks,” Dave muttered, and darted upstairs. Karkat, after a long, hard look at Dirk, followed after.

Dave settled into his room after the cat incident, more confused than ever. He’d…really been expecting that to be it. Dirk’s expression taking Jaspers down from the roof had been the one Dave had long since learned to recognize on Bro as the ‘you’re about to get your fucking ass kicked’ face. When he was pissed enough to actually look the slightest bit pissed, that’s when Dave knew he’d crossed the last line, but.

Dirk had said he’d done nothing wrong.

He’d been gentle. What the fuck.

Dave sat on his bed and stared at his arms. He’d been assuming he’d be taking care of the scratches on his own, same as he’d always dealt with his own wounds, that he’d have to figure out where the first aid kit was kept in this house without bleeding everywhere or worst case scenario make do with toilet paper. He’d not been expecting Dirk to call him downstairs not to be punished, but to patch the wounds up.

What the fuck.

Maybe no one here was going to hurt him. Even if he fucked up.

No, that was too optimistic, probably. It was probably just because he hadn’t actually broken any rules. Couldn’t let wishful thinking take him on too many flights of fantasy, or he’d wind up all kinds of fucked. Be off in fuckin’ Narnia while the Witch of the West is happily taking over the big green city, except the city would be Dave’s ass and ‘taking over’ would mean ‘beating the shit out of’.

Still, it was….weird.

(Despite his best efforts to keep himself realistic, a tiny, rebellious spark of hope flared up, warmer than anything he’d felt in a long time.)

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #kanaya maryam #rose lalonde #longpost//#look they looked at each other and smiled and bonded a little im allowed to put this one in the davekat tag #fanfic #fanfiction #calmvsstormfic #calmvsstormchapter #katt does a writing #homestuck #hrRRGHGHHG i odnt like this one im bad at writing flirting #ive never flirted in my entire life #rose the spider and the fly is not a romantic poem stop that #stop!!!!

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princesiddie · 7 years

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Because you keep answering so well I'm going to keep sending prompts Imagine Sidon was taken away and used as "Ransom" because evil things are evil. Link comes in all happy and sees a council arguing, crying, and some pacing. He asks what's wrong and theyre like Sidon's gone- and link is already off to find him and like nopenopenopenope they touch my shark husband they get a stab stab -Noodle

FUCKIN man go ahead i goddamn love asks broand FUCKIN.G LINK LOSES HIS SHIT but in the lowkey link kinda way he does where he just ignores everyone else and wont stop trying to Do The Thing (in this case find and save sidon) unless u physically hold him down so yeah once he hears who might be keeping sidon and where they might be hes Already Gone he probably doesnt stop all day or all night (except for one (1) time like half an hour frm the domain so he can privately have a big ol panic attack about not having been able to keep sidon safe and sidon getting hurt all bc of him and all the Youre Not Strong Enough Youre Not Brave Enough You Cant Protect Him Youre Barely A Hero kinda shit tht u feel after ur bf gets kidnapped fr randsom by yr enemies) and then eventually zelda ? catches up to hm bc she heard abt what happened and she Knew link would go all tunnel vision w tryin to save sidon all by hs damn self and hes like Leave Me Be I Can Do Ths Im Fine and then promptly almost passes out from exhaustion + stress + hunger (hes been walkin literally since he left the domain man) and zeldas like You Fucking Idiot Let Me Fucking Help You For Once Now That I Actually Can and im not sure she can convince him to come back to the castle with her so he can rest and have a meal but she does at least convince him to set up camp for the night and at least eat something and get just a few hours sleep (which he does but very begrudgingly bc What If Theyre Killing Sidon Right Now Zelda) and then in the morning she helps him come up w like an actual plan for getting sidon out (bc hs original one was Stab Them All which is very infeasible and would probably get him and/or sidon killed) which helps calm link down a little bit but for the most part hes still so strung out and on edge that hes constantly pushing for them to walk Just A Little Faster and is kinda permanently picking at hs face (which is a nervous tic of his now , i guess ?? ¯\_(:0)_/¯)

#asks

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krycek-asks · 7 years

Text

Luis' Story Time: The first time I got a hug from Steve Fuckin Rogers

Or "Two times Luis hugged Steve and one time Steve hugged first." Originally written for @thelittleblackfox , a Luis' feel good story (If you make it to the end of 2k+ words coming out of Luis's mouth there's a gold star in it for you) (Sorry no 'read after the cut' when posting from my phone ha!) "The first time I stood in front of Steve Fuckin Rogers man I smiled so wide I felt my cheek bones crack, and I couldn't stop yo! I said somethin stupid like 'it's nice to finally meet you bro' or 'heard a lot about you brah, but like only the good stuff ya know?' Like there's any legit bad stuff. And he just smiled into that aura of kindness that radiates all around him, and that shit is gold yo, my prima Leticia is in tune with the spirits and she says the good ones are gold, literally, like they radiate gold and what could be more good than Steve Fuckin Rogers holding his hand out to you? I get into that golden warm haze and pull that dude in a for a hug and jeeeezus have you felt that guero's biceps? Practically gave myself a concussion on the dudes pecks. Course I told him that, a brotha likes to hear all his hard work ain't goin all under appreciated, and Scott's just standing behind him nodding at me all 'Right? Right? I toooooold you he was awesome' but silent talkin like with his eyes. And Steve Fuckin Rogers is the humblest dude you will ever meet, duckin his head all shy teenager or whatever age he's frozen in since that magic potion he drank or gamma ray or whatever made him wander the earth all ageless 'n shit, like the world's most buff vampire but instead of hiding from the sun and drinking blood, he shines that light right through you and eats like six burgers at a time as though his life depended on that shit, like he'd turn to ash without twelve million calories a day. So of course I introduce him to my tío Pepe's taco stand, ain't no safer place to discuss a job AND chow down on life giving suadero. Best salsa in town too. Just about closed the place down early that night with the sheer quantity of taco consumption yo! and everyone fallin all over eachother tryin to get Captain America a jarrito or a napkin or whatever. Of course Steve Fuckin Rogers pays for everything we ate and more. He can be a happy dude man, well when he's eaten anyways, dude is the definition of 'have a snickers' most of the time. Anyways so a couple months later and I'm helpin Scott do some serious ass swear to god legit Avenging. I mean I've met Norse gods and kissed Black Widows but nothin could prepare me for the awesome presence of the Winter Distract You With My Awesome Darkness While I Slice You Soldier saving me from some shit eating alien monsters with nothin but the butter knife or whatever the fuck he pulls out of all those secret little pockets in that kick ass black leather number he wears. 'Course he's just Bucky outside of the fight, like that dude could be 'just' anything ya know? Like who else appreciates how to properly braise leeks or fold butter to get just the right amount of lamination in a goddamn croissant huh? Bucky that's who. Anyways he's Steve Fuckin Rogers life partner or whatever, no need for labelling amongst friends ya know, so when the Winter Soldier gets his last filleting knife lost in the slobber of the most persistent of alien dickweeds and we're staring down the short track of our lives into the dripping maw of death it's Steve Fuckin Rogers who comes in at the last second to save the day, his glowing aura alone shredding that hell hound into shadowy fuckin bits that blow away in the breeze. I mean really it was that kick ass shield made of Infinitum or awesomium or whatever, but you hear me dawg. There was a group hug after, well it was more like I wrapped my arms around a single super being - those two were like melded into one yo, my arms barely got half way. It was beautiful. Tears were shed bro I ain't afraid to admit it but I'm sensitive like that. Daddy ain't afraid of feelings. So me and Scott start hangin around the Avengers club house more often and it is so tight yo! They got ping pong, Xbox, indoor outdoor pools, fuckin Nordic spa quality steam rooms ya know what I'm sayin? Like breathing eucalyptus through every pore in my body is a religious experience, and all this in midtown Manhattan yo! Stark knows how to treat his buddies right, get 'em back in fightin form asap. We'd do midnight ramen with Clint, Scott'd hang with Bruce around his lab exchanging science knowledge like they were playing poker or somethin, I'd hang with Nat and play Boggle or Scrabble but my girl she cheats in other languages I'm sure of it! But whatcha gonna do, call Black Widow out on some Eastern European word for yak's milk? 'sides she lets me use my chilango 'cause deep down she's a real sweetheart. Brunch Roulette with Bucky on Sundays - we pick the trendiest restaurant we can find that day and proceed to order everything we can stand, acting like real buffs, legit Michelin Four Star reviewers or whatever gets the staff jumpin. Dude loves cuisine and can talk about the thousand ways to cook over fire while slicing a tomato without even looking, nothing snags on my mans knives, keeps those muthas sharp ya know? But Steve Fuckin Rogers is a whole other story yo, saddest dude I have ever met when he ain't got no fight to plan for, and you can only run in one spot for a certain amount of time until you wear that floor down, or like literally break your shoes or somethin. And it ain't like he's havin a hard time adjusting to modern digital life, and dude seems happy enough eating whatever Buck puts in front of him, even gets this close to a smile when he can drag himself outside the clubhouse to join us for Brunch Roulette and makes the staff fall all over themselves if they fail to fill up Bucky's water when asked or turn his creme brûlée into scrambled eggs. I mean seriously yo, my abuela can make a perfect flan in her sleep and some of these posers can't tell the difference between a creme caramel and a Cadbury Creme Egg. But if left to his own devices he starts lookin through old photos from his Known Associates box or old sketchbooks from his apartment in Brooklyn from the dawn of time, aka the Great Depression. Tony calls them his Sad Souvenirs, and that golden aura? It just fades yo, like it's still there but limp or something. Bucky told me over mimosas, best ever wake up juice on the market by the way! He told me he tried to hide the Sad Souvenir box once, but Steve Fuckin Rogers just sat at their breakfast bar making houses out of an old bicycle card deck and they just kept fallin over and he'd get sadder and sadder and smaller and smaller until Bucky couldn't take it anymore and asked him to help open a pickle jar or some shit and put the Sad Souvenirs back while he was occupied being 'helpful'. I heard that story and thought of my cousin's girlfriend's brother's neighbor's dog's vet's husband out in Red Hook - dude owns a sandwich shop, best cubanos you can get bro! It was the pickles that reminded me of that heaven on a bolillo. But what does a sandwich shop have to do with Steve Fuckin Rogers you ask? Nothin bro, 'cept it's next to a pawn shop owned by a hundred year old dude named Frank that used to know my homeboys from back in the day! More to the point he knew Sarah Rogers, the living saint herself who used to walk the halls of the TB wards like the superhero she was, took care of her little slip of a boy and smacked down anyone who dared breathe wrong in his direction. Scott said he overheard Nat tellin Clint that she'd overheard Tony talkin on the phone to some Commando named Morita's kid about stories his dad told him about Steve Fuckin Rogers back in the day. Seems like the poor kid lost his mom to the very disease she'd been savin people from all those years ago, and he used to sing her favourite songs in this strange language but would shut up when caught out by his soldier buddies. Kept lookin in all the churches they crashed in while marching through the mud of war for rosaries too, but not just any rosary though he'd pray pretty hard regardless but he was lookin for something all specific like. Seems Tony's dad Howard sent some dudes out to try and track down Sarah's shit that was left behind at the sanitorium where people go to get better but mostly just pass on, but never found nothin. Scott said Nat said she asked Bucky about the singing but he wouldn't say a word about it, just laughing it off as though the Cap couldn't sing. But it got me thinking - so what if Howard Starks minions couldn't find anything? They weren't from the 'hood ya know? You gotta know people, trust 'em, if they gonna give up somethin precious. So I put the word out at Franks pawn shop, you know if they come across anything, or know who to ask. Well, a few weeks later I got a call from old Frank himself. Seems he remembered a neighbour of Sarah and her son who'd been in the same TB ward as Nurse Rogers but had survived! Attributes it to Sarah giving her something before she passed on, and she kept that stuff for her son Little Stevie, and don't you know Nat won't let go of that nickname even under threat of death, But Little Stevie turned into Captain America and drove a plane into the ice and never came back to Brooklyn so she passed Sarah's stuff down to her daughter then to her son to his daughter until Franks great granddaughter puts the word out and that's all she wrote man! Except it ain't cause the Cap came outta the ice and now I had to convince him to come out with me to Red Hook yo! And the quickest way to get Steve Fuckin Rogers to follow you is with the promise of the best cubano sandwich he's ever had in his life. Don't forget he's a food vampire bro! And dudes most relaxed after he's eaten his four sandwiches and a box of Girl Guide cookies from these niñas who set up shop outside - little hustlers know a target when they see one! Between the two of us we bought three cases to bring back to the clubhouse. But there's one more mission we gotta complete, so I say I wanna say hello to an old friend and we go into Franks place and don't you know Steve Fuckin Rogers recognizes Frank right away 'Hey Frankie!' he says like it's been a week or something, well I guess it hasn't really been that long for him being frozen most of the century and all. Frank gives some Brooklyn salute or somethin then gets right down to business sayin 'I guess you're here for your mothers things' The confusion on my poor mans face! Lookin from me to Frank back and forth until Frank takes mercy on him and pulls out what is now and forever known as the Happy Crying Souvenir box. It's got Sarah's rosary, a song book in Latin and one in Irish or something and a letter, a letter for Little Stevie and you know I teared up at that point yo, I said I was sensitive! But I was smilin' and Frank was chattering away about how he'd found this stuff and the golden aura starts to fill the place and I'm suddenly swallowed up by it, biceps crushing my neck but all gentle like, like being embraced by a huge warm teddy bear made of concrete, that's what it's like to be hugged by Steve Fuckin Rogers, and he just says to me in this super legit old school gangsta voice I have only ever heard in The Godfather, 'Thank you, Luis. An stop callin me Steve Fuckin Rogers' And when I get released and can finally take a breath I take his massive hand, look him in his eyes and say, 'Anytime Little Stevie' and dude just shoves me like a Saint Bernard pushing over his little chihuahua buddy, and it goes on like that and when we get back to the clubhouse brandishing cookies and happy stories from the hood we turn that shit into a party. Bucky was so happy he made me chilaquiles from my ma's secret recipe, as though you can keep a secret from Slice 'n Dice Barnes. I even got a kiss from Nat and one from Barton too, though dude was on a pretty crazy sugar high from all those cookies so he totally denies it. And that's the story of the first time I got a hug from Steve." ⭐️

#Luis and his stories

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