#eh and maybe fun to share even if it does sound like garbage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts

sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

#well yall im #bucket fucker supreme right here I guess #enJOY #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #boba fett x reader x din djarin #din djarin x reader x boba fett #star wars fanfiction #my writing

1K notes · View notes

bastillewolf · 3 years

Text

Kinda Sketchy (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Request: “Can you do a part two of kinda sketchy where they slowly fall in love?”

Notes: Sorry this took me so long, but I had zero inspiration as the request left a lot of questions hahaha. Still fun to write, I hope you like it!

Tag list closed.

Chapter II

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said.

You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated.

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot.”

“He… what?”

“Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-“

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “Who are you talking to?”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

***

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh- give me the phone-“ “Hey!” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!”

“Unless it wasn’t your fault-“ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!” “Rae talks Corpse language, apparently,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“Wait, what?”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!“

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking, you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

@annshit @simonsbluee @majolittlemixgurl18 @redosmo @mythicalreader @gracehaileym @leikarinn @its-bootz @ollwinchester @thehatredofshiprrick @curlyhairedbrock @thatbandchick39 @reddeserths @mitseuul @potenzel @tanchosanke @tooturntashbash @stephn-prkr @missingpuzzlepiece @sweetasphyxiation @goldiefox1 @imrisaluk @chimchimsugakookies @helena-way07 @danny-devitowo @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @cherry-piee @artist-bby @bluewneptune @bratttyaphrodite @eccedxntesiaast @faithneko @thebootythrasher @bethpiercwhy @theeerealpunkin @heartbroken-writer @chisaikuki @realnicoleworld @candystoregirl @derpygiraffe43110 @rintomoj @phantomamethyst @helloitsmeamie203 @falcon-arrows @nvthvlyy @ellomellows @loraleiix @ladolcedea @lunaruss @princess00wifi @pennnyroyalty @cultofandom @easygoingtheatre @crpseclt @thatonefangirlbornonfriday @myherotrashbin @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @martinimom @gummybear123 @sparklingblacktea @lovelynervouskingdom @kingsuals @weeblyheaux @flightsandfantasy @chanelle-jackson @actual-spawn-of-satan @dixielumsden @consumegods @mirandabarry @ikearandl @narwhalsaremagicalbroski @armycandy10 @chillininahottub-withaghost @mitchiesdungeon @yeolliedokai @alyofmusic @qatiee @dzzizzi @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @leilanixx @thefuckthesaurus @hughugh20 @thanossexual @moneybagmara @squintyangel @motheroffae @arossebyanyothername @vacaprincess @jinxedanxrchist @peterparkerspjsuit @chrysanthykios @wildflowerwhore @punkrainbows @justalilsimpsometimes @bunniwritesx @sunnsettee @justxanotherxshipper @alilshit @dekahg @laugh-like-the-moon @sadness-babee @corpsie-bby @corpsesgirl @dead-boys-stuff @roses-and-grasses @sakusawife @byunniebaekhyunnie @lazy-little-me @phantomamethyst @letsloveimagines @polahorvat @sokkas-paintings @possiblyanxioushuman @a-dot-dev @aniyahsucks @choicesstan1 @error-loading-sorry @bi-andready-tocry @agustdpeach @xibrokensunriseix @genjicats @forest-rav3n @devilishducky97 @alyss01 @anacrcarvalho @siriuslystupid @bakugonua @n0t-a-simp @notmewrongb1tch @c00ln3rdz @rolls-and-rolex @namjoons-crabssss @laurenfangirlsout @lickmyleeches @and-claudia @netflix-imagines @bigdickdaddysatan @iambashfulperson @helloitsmeamie203 @peachdoppi @easygoingtheatre @danielle143 @kyky9103 @tayloryorkscurls @v-kouya @jeezkiddo @smokeynaomi @lukoivichi @boiled-onionrings @nerdinthecorner @corpse-husbandsimp @ramdomtails @elebeleb @captainbuckyy @smile-its-psychotic

#Corpse husband #Corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse #youtube fanfiction #among us #e girls are ruining my life #cat girls are ruining my life #never satisfied #white tee #cabin fever #agoraphobia #miss YOU!

308 notes · View notes

bpro-cardstories · 3 years

Text

Akane Fudo SSR ーRequestー

2019 ー SHARED HOUSE [SHARED HOUSE]

"No, how do I say….. We’re also happy that Akane had such fun, you know. We are just a bit jealous, something like that?”

Part 1

ーMagazine photoshoot location.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Here please, you two. The preparations are still continuing, but….. At the moment, we would like you to tell us if anything is different from what you imagined.’

Akane: ‘Thanks, Tsubasa-chan!’

Akane: ‘Ooh…..! Amazing, there are so many sets of rooms!! They’re gonna be everyone’s rooms for “your ideal life alone”, huh…..’

Akane: ‘Ah, look, Miroku! That one over there must be my room, right!?’

Miroku: ‘Yeah….. But there is still a lot of staff running around in there.’

Staff 1: ‘Hey, make this wall stronger.’

Staff 2: ‘Yes! Ah, where do I put the mountain bike?’

Staff 1: ‘That’s it for now, huh. Raise the hammock a bit higher.’

Miroku (shakes head): ‘….. It doesn’t seem to be easy.’

Akane: ‘O-Oh….. Yeah, y-you’re right…..’

Miroku: ‘The bouldering wall, the mountain bike, the hammock and various other things….. There’s no other choice than it being time consuming, huh?’

Akane: ‘Uuh….. When you say it in this way, it makes me feel really sorry…..’

Miroku: ‘Well, since it’s the staff’s job they won’t be angry. It’s just, aren’t they doing too much?’

Akane: ‘Y-You think so…..?’

Miroku: ‘Yeah.’

Akane: ‘No, but, but! This room is one you can definitely only dream of!*’

Akane (chuckles): ‘If you want to move your body, use the bouldering wall; if you’re tired, use the hammock to relax and if you want to feel the wind, take the bicycle outside and then GO!’

Akane: ‘Come on, try to imagine it. Doesn’t it sound super fun!?’

Akane: ‘Tsubasa-chan thinks so, too, right!?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it certainly does. This activity is very like you, Akane-kun.’

Miroku: ‘No, isn’t that too lively by your instinct?’

Akane: ‘Eh, is that no good?’

Miroku: ‘No good, you say….. Well, it is correct that it sounds like Akane. Generally speaking, you’re full of thoughts about wanting to do fun things.’

Akane: ‘Yeah! Ehehe, I’m looking forward to when it’s finished~♪.’

Akane: ‘Miroku, when I start to live in such a room by myself someday, you can come to hang out anytime!’

Miroku: ‘Heh….. Yeah, then I will do so.’

Part 2

ーIn the house with all 14 members.ー

Tatsuhiro: ‘We’ve decided on the assignment of the rooms….. What should we do next?’

Ryuji: ‘Maybe the people in charge of cleaning, bringing out the garbage or food?’

Akane: ‘There are a lot of unexpected things to do in a shared house, huh.’

Ryuji: ‘You may be right. But they’re all necessary when you live together with everyone, right?’

Tatsuhiro: ‘It’s troubling if you shoulder it all alone.’

Akane: ‘But how should we decide the tasks? If we decide them like we did with the rooms through rock-scissor-paper, it’s going to be boring…..’

Ryuji: ‘I don’t mind, isn’t it good even if it’s not exciting?’

Akane: ‘Eh, but, since we’re already here, wouldn’t it be nice for it to be more fun? So, uhm…..’

Akane: ‘Ah, I got it!’

Ryuji: ‘Hm? What are you going to make?’

Akane: ‘Roulette! We decide by a roulette everyday who is in charge of the cleaning or the cooking for example.’

Ryuji: ‘That….. sounds more like an elementary school kid, doesn’t it?’

Tomohisa: ‘Ahaha, you’re right. It’s a good idea I think though. The game feels like it makes things exciting.’

Akane: ‘I know, right!? Wait a minute, I’ll quickly prepare one!’ ___________

Akane: ‘Taーda, finished~!’

Tomohisa: ‘Hee, Akane sure is skillful. You can spin it around smoothly.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘True. Not bad, Akane.’

Akane: ‘Ehehe~, I’m proud of the roulette, you know! Alright, then let’s start~.’

Akane: ‘Ayye!’

Ryuji: ‘I’m on breakfast duty tomorrow….. Don’t you think it’s going to be quite tough to make one for 14 people?’

Tomohisa: ‘Rest assured, I will help you, Ryuji.’

Ryuji: ‘Thanks. But won’t you be busy with your own task?’

Tomohisa: ‘I wonder? I’m….. in charge of throwing out the garbage, huh. I need to properly check later what garbage will be collected tomorrow.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘I’m responsible for the cleaning. It looks difficult, but….. Well, maybe cleaning is easier than rooms like the bathroom and kitchen**?’

Ryuji (shakes head): ‘Aah, those are troublesome, like the toilet or the bath.’

Tomohisa: ‘So, the person in charge of them is…..?’

Akane (laughs): ‘Gyaah~! It’s me!’

Ryuji: ‘No way, your words and facial expression don’t match together….. Why do you look like it’s fun?’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Do you like cleaning those rooms?’

Akane (laughs): ‘Nope, not at all!!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘An immediate reply with a smile…..’

Akane: ‘Ehehe, I mean….. Cleaning is, frankly speaking, a bit of a pain. I’m glad I made a roulette, because we could decide on who’s in charge of the tasks with everyone.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘I see. Well, it was quite the fun. A good feat, isn’t it?’

Akane: ‘Yay, I was praised by Ryuji~♪.’

Akane: ‘Since we have this, let’s make another one!! Maybe a darts version next.’

Ryuji: ‘Heh, then I’m sure it will be your duty.’

Akane: ‘Ah….. I-Indeed…..’

Part 3

Akane: ‘Zzz…..’

Haruhi: ‘…..kane…..Aka…..’

Akane: ‘Ngh….. Zzz…..’

Haruhi: ‘Geez! I said A-ka-ne!’

Akane: ‘Hyaah!’

Yuduki: ‘Ah, he woke up.’

Akane: ‘Eh, eh….. What…..?’

Haruhi: ‘You’re still half sleeping….. Anyways, is your body fine? You were fast asleep in that thing.’

Akane: ‘Fast asleep? Wait, eh!? W-What time is it?’

Miroku: ‘It’s afternoon already. You were awake, but didn’t get up, so we left you as it is. You were oversleeping after all, right?’

Yuduki: ‘Did you stay up late?’

Akane: ‘Ahaha, I did….. The talk was getting exciting, you know.’

Miroku: ‘Ashu-kun?’

Akane: ‘Yes, with Yuta, too….. It’s rare, but I was with Goshi and Kento together as well yesterday.’

Haruhi: ‘Eh, then you were talking with the four of you?’

Akane (smiles): ‘How rare, right? It often happens that those two would go somewhere else already, if it was like always. I wonder if they were in the mood to talk yesterday? I got so happy that I chatted too much.’

Haruhi: ‘How envious! I wished I was also with you~!!’

Akane: ‘Ahaha, THRIVE and KiLLER KiNG having a talk together definitely sounds like fun.’

Miroku: ‘….. Akane, you look happy.’

Akane: ‘Hm? You think?’

Miroku: ‘Yeah. It must have been quite the fun.’

Akane: ‘Ehehe….. Yep, that may be true. It’s been some time since we last had such a talk.’

Yuduki: ‘I see….. That’s good to hear.’

Haruhi: ‘Hmm….. But, somehow…..’

Yuduki: ‘….. Yeah.’

Akane (surprised): ‘Eh? What’s wrong, you two?’

Haruhi: ‘No, how do I say….. We’re also happy that Akane had such fun, you know. We are just a bit jealous, something like that?’

Akane: ‘Jealous…..?’

Haruhi (sighs): ‘It feels like Akane was taken by Goshi-kun and the others.’

Akane (smiles): ‘Eeh? What’s with that?’

Miroku: ‘….. Because the bond between Akane and THRIVE is different from the bond between us four.’

Yuduki: ‘Yeah….. It felt a bit lonely.’

Akane (blushing): ‘W-Wait a moment….. What are you doing! That’s kind of embarrassing…..!’

Haruhi (sulking): ‘Then pay more attention to us, too.’

Akane: ‘Eh~….. P-Paying more attention, what to do…..’

Akane: ‘Ah! Alright then, let’s also do something together with the four of us! Work starts in the evening today, right? We still have about three hours of free time…..’

Akane: ‘Let’s play a game, or go see a movie! How about that?’

Yuduki: ‘If that’s the case, then….. I want to watch a movie, I think.’

Haruhi: ‘Yes, right, right! They are showing an interesting one right now!’

Yuduki: ‘The car action one?’

Haruhi: ‘Correct, that one! If I’m not wrong, the cinema near here should be playing that movie, too.’

Miroku: ‘Isn’t that good, then? It’s a place where it’s easy for us to go to the studio.’

Akane: ‘Great, it’s decided!! It sure has been a long time since we went to see a movie together.’

Yuduki: ‘Yeah….. I can’t wait.’

Akane: ‘Ehehe. Good, let’s get ready and go out!’

END _________________

* I’m sorry, this sentence is more of a guess from the words rather than a translation, because the Japanese here didn’t make sense to me.

** Mizumawari (水回り): This is one is a bit tricky, because there’s no exact English translation for it. This expression is used for areas where lots of water is used in houses. The dictionary gives kitchen and bathroom as examples and those are probably what you associate the most when thinking about house areas with lots of water use.

#b project #b-project #akane fudo #killer king #myps #card:2019

18 notes · View notes

unforth · 4 years

Text

Today in “random shit that got totally away from me,” I just wrote almost 6k of this nonsense instead of anything for Kinktober or my tweet fic. Oops.

So I started thinking about MDZS Harry Potter AUs. Yes, JK is a trash human being but eh HP does still hold a place in my heart so I don't mind putzing with it as long as I never again put another penny her pocket. Anyway, all the HP AUs I've seen seem to be focused on Hogwarts and who'd be in which house, that kind of thing, and it felt all wrong to me because the sects are different schools of thought...that's literally the point...so shouldn't they be different schools? And this is where I took that...this is really more like a fusion than an AU and I've butchered canon and how magic works for both HP and MDZS but oh well, here goes...

(ships: WangXian, SangCheng, Luo Qingyang/Wen Qing, Xuanli until it’s not, Wen Ning/Jiang Yanli, and others)

Wei Wuxian is born a muggle, the child of a witch and a muggle who decide to leave the wizarding world and raise their child without the prejudices and problems that surrounded them and their relationship. However, the world catches up with them, and both die when Wei Wuxian is only 4 years old. He gets kicked into the foster system, and it takes over five years before he's finally brought to a family that seems to be long term - old friends of his mother's and, as he'll learn, old wizarding blood, the Jiang family. Wei Wuxian has shown no sign of being magical to that point but, then, he also had no idea that magic was a thing, and existed outside that paradigm completely. He learns right quick though. His new parents, Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian, are both powerful wizards, and their eldest daughter is already at Jinlin Tower, studying to follow on their footsteps. His foster brother, Jiang Cheng, talks excitedly and sometimes sneeringly about his own expectations of going, and that Wei Wuxian won't be. To say he's jealous would be an understatement, but more than that, he's sorely disappointed, because aside from his occasional arrogance, Jiang Cheng is the closest thing to a friend, the closest thing to family, he's ever had. His new parents are okay, he supposes...certainly better than some he's had...but Yu Ziyuan barely tolerates him and Jiang Fengmian's condescending form of affection isn't much better. Further, Wei Wuxian is old enough that he hears the rumors. People at Lotus Pier whisper that he's actually Jiang Fengmian's child, that JFM loved the witch Cangse Sanren and that he acted on that affection, possibly without her consent. How dark the rumors tended depended on who said them, and everyone made Wei Wuxian wish that he'd never been brought to Lotus Pier, even if he at least was no longer starving.

Anyway. Events unfold, as they tend to do. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng grow close. Jiang Yanli returns from school for holidays and Wei Wuxian quickly grows to adore her. When he's with his siblings he can forget how garbage the rest of his life is, and his hope for the future improves when he accidentally dyes Jiang Cheng purple from head to toe (after JC punched him because he called JC a grape). At first this seems like a dream come true - he can do magic, so he can go to the school! - but as seems to always happen in his life, the good news gets balanced by a heavy dose of bad, as the worst rumor mongers take this revelation as a sign that he couldn't have possibly had a muggle for a father, and their vituperation grows louder, and Yu Ziyuan's behavior grows more abusive.

At least he'll get to leave.

Except going also proves a mixed blessing, as the school is just as much a rumor factory as Lotus Pier is...heck, maybe more of one. The Jin family, also old blood, run the place, and teach according to their own principals. Virtually everyone there is from a long ancient line of wizards, and they all look down their noses at Wei Wuxian for being half blood, and he's bullied a lot, and Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli are bullied by extension, which is even worse. He does his best to keep his head down, but usually fails, since he can accept any amount of hatred heaped on his own head but refuses to stand down if his brother and sister are insulted. His repeated run ins with Jin Zixuan, heir to Jinlin Tower, affianced of Jiang Yanli, and tool douche bag incarnate especially lead to trouble, not because Jin Zixuan himself is so bad...he's a tool douche bag but he's essentially harmless...but his family is less so. His cousin Jin Zixun is especially vile, and the number of encounters with him that Wei Wuxian keeps secret lest Jiang Cheng learn and intervene and experience the same or worse is sizeable.

Still, for all the bad, he's mostly happy at school and it's still better than being at Lotus Pier. Their classmates are from the Jin and the clans that follow them - it turns out the only reason the Jiang are there instead of at their own school is that it's part of the arranged marriage between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli - and while the main clan is full of assholes, their followers include some damn good folk. Wei Wuxian develops an especially close friendship with Luo Qingyang. He also excels at magic, which eventually begins to pay dividends. The first couple years he's there, his classmates have all been doing magic since they were in their cradles and he's racing to catch up, but by the time he's 14, 15, 16, the playing field is more even and those who were cruel to him have mostly been visited by highly unpleasant pay back - if not from Wei Wuxian himself, then from Jiang Cheng or Luo Qingyang.

His 6th year, when he's 17, is a big deal for several reasons. First, Jiang Yanli graduates...and immediately starts an internship at the school's infirmary, ostensibly because she's interested in medicine, actually because no one wants too much distance between her and Jin Zixuan. Speaking of whom, secondly...he's a jackass and a peacock but he has improved with age, and Wei Wuxian can almost tolerate him for short periods of time, especially because his doing so makes Jiang Yanli happy. Jin Zixun is still irredeemable but Wei Wuxian is unsurprised there. But the biggest event is that it's time for the biannual competition between the greatest sects in the world, and this time Jinlin Tower is hosting. Everyone who wants to participate may, and it's basically an Olympics for people in their 6th and 7th years - no one else is eligible. There are competitions in martial arts, wizarding duels, arranged battles against monsters, Night Hunts, races. Each competitor is scored based on their performance, and after each event, fewer people are able to advance to the next round, until the final event is a two-on-two-on-two-on-two battle between the top pairs from each school - Jinlin Tower, Cloud Recesses, Unclean Realm and Nightless City. If two from one school are still standing at the end (highly unusual, generally one is eliminated before the other) then they will fight to determine a final winner, who gets accolades, attention, a mess of flowers, a few medals, at least two marriage proposals...and respect, which is the only one of those things Wei Wuxian gives a shit about.

Wei Wuxian is *determined* to be one of the two - and that Jiang Cheng will be the other. He can think of no better way to show up the haters, and anyway, it sounds fun as hell.

The school year up until the start of the competition, held every spring, is dull dull dull, but finally the long awaited day arrives, and with it come the 6th and 7th years from the other schools and the teachers sent to chaperone them. Cloud Recesses arrives first, punctual to the second, and god are they a snooze fest. Their leader, Lan Qiren, drones on and on during his welcome speech, and his students all stand in lock step and hang on every boring word. When Wei Wuxian has the audacity to yawn, one in particular glares murder at him, and Luo Qingyang explains to him in a hurried whisper that that's the famous Lan Wangji, second son of the family, heir to Cloud Recesses, and widely considered the hands-down favorite to win the entire event.

After them, the Unclean Realm contingent arrives, led by Nie Mingjue, youngest of the current school leaders. They seem very battle oriented, all heavily armed with more than just wands, except for a disinterested young man at Nie Mingjue's side - his brother, Nie Huaisang, Luo Qingyang helpfully explains.

("How do you know all this??" Wei Wuxian hisses.)

("Latest issue of Teen Witch did a profile on everyone favored to win from each school!")

("...oh yeah? What'd they say about me?")

("You weren't in there, dumbass, they profiled Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun.")

("And you trust them to be right about literally *anything* if they think those two are the favorites from here?")

("Shut up, at least it means I know something about the competition we'll face.")

("Will you *both* shut up?" interjected an exasperated Jiang Cheng, "because if not, I WILL curse you for the duration of the welcome...")

Nie Huaisang is fun to watch, because he seems as bored as Wei Wuxian feels, and because he is high enough in the pecking order that no one gives him shit for it. Watching him is even slightly cathartic. But too soon, their school goes to their table - another vote in favor of the Unclean Realm, their welcome speech was short and to the point - and then the Nightless City students step up. Their leader is a sneering youth ("winner of the competition six years ago," Luo Qingyang supplies) named Wen Xu, son of the school's head, because they are so arrogant they didn't bother sending their headmaster. They’re also the only school to send two chaperones, and Wei Wuxian feels an instant connection with the other, an attractive young woman, because the murderous glare she directs at the back of Wen Xu's head is truly a thing of beauty, and grows more intense the longer he babbles bombast, arrogance and stupidity.

Finally, the welcome ends, and the houses share a banquet. There are various "getting to know you" events scheduled, and a prom-like ball halfway through the competition. It’s interesting to see the relative sociability of the different groups as the events commenced. The Lans from Cloud Recesses, for example, keep almost entirely to themselves. They make minimal efforts to mingle but only because they’re expected to. The Nie, on the other hand, are incredibly happy to meet new people, and Wei Wuxian ends up friends with Nie Huaisang almost by accident - there was a bird, a curse backfire, a talking staircase and a gigantic bubblegum bubble involved but the less said in general the better - and it gives him hope for the future. His prospects of staying at Lotus Pier are dim - even if they wanted him there he didn't want to stay, especially after Jiang Yanli leaves for her wedding and Jiang Cheng launches into his duties as heir. Nie Huaisang likes him, and has influence at Unclean Realm, and hints more than once that they don’t share the prejudices of some of the other families since it’s well known they'd been founded by a late-blooming spellcasting muggle. Wei Wuxian is self-interested enough to forward the friendship even if he didn't enjoy Nie Huaisang's company...but he does, and that just makes it so much the better.

The Wens from Nightless City, on the other hand, are a problem. They love to interact...if arrogance, condescension, aloofness and bullying can be called interacting. They don’t even spare members of their own family, and Wei Wuxian saw a lot of parallels to his own treatment at Jinlin Tower in how Wen Ning, Wen Chao's cousin and younger brother of the second chaperone, is treated. Wei Wuxian intervenes more than once to protect Wen Ning - from the other Wens, from Jin Zixun, even from a random Lan once.

Thus do things stand when events finally start. They make for a weird clique - Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Luo Qingyang, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning vaguely shadowing them while clearly trying not to get too close. In events where they can aid each other, they do. In events where they can’t, they at least try not to directly act against each other. Lesser names are quickly eliminated from the competition, and the leader board is mostly those who'd been expected, in part because a lot of clan members go out of their way to support their clans' favorite. Lan Wangji, that second Lan son from Cloud Recesses, leads in points, and that’s extra impressive since the Lan are the only clan that AREN’T cheating to help him get ahead. Lesser members of the Nie routinely act to help Nie Huaisang instead of themselves, which is especially absurd since Nie Huaisang himself seems indifferent. The Wen actively cheat, and are sanctioned for it three times, to forward Wen Chao, Wen Xu's younger brother and their clan's favorite. And the Jinlin Tower contingent strives to put Jin Zixuan on top...and Jin Zixun strives to unseat him.

So, basically, it it’s all a huge mess, especially early on when the entirety of all four schools are involved.

The first of Wei Wuxian's friend circle eliminated is Luo Qingyang. She takes it in stride even though it had been a bullshit technicality and Wen Chao's fault to boot, and immediately begins conspiring from outside the competition to help the others. Things proceed apace, event after event, and despite some obvious attempts by lesser Jinlin Tower folk to sabotage Wei Wuxian, he of course still does well, especially at the magical competitions. He hung on through a dismal showing against a giant dog (his phobia’s triggered and it’s one on one so no one can help him) thanks mostly to an exceptional performance during an transfiguration and enchantment event, that he won easily and to everyone's amazement, even beating the unparalleled Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng is doing well too, not exceptional at anything, but never near the bottom, either, which keeps him afloat, and it helps that he never does anything that sinks himself to float Jin Zixuan or Jin Zixun. The ball comes closer by the day, and the events are spaced farther apart later in the competition to give competitors time to heal and prepare, and as more people are eliminated, the ball becomes the premier talk of the group - what to wear, who to ask, who else has asked who and who has said yes and who has said no, all gossip all the time. Nie Huaisang seems especially invested, even though he hasn't been eliminated...he seems to find it fun, while giving zero information about his own intentions as regard a companion.

Jiang Cheng asks a pretty Lan girl, and is turned down, and Luo Qingyang, and is turned down, and at least three other people, with no success. (Nie Huaisang whispers that this is because Wen Chao has threatened to hurt anyone who says yes to him...Luo Qingyang says it’s because Jiang Cheng is an idiot and a dick.)

Luo Qingyang refuses to say who she’s asking, leaves to do it...and returns aglow, saying that the person she'd asked has said yes...but still won’t say who that is.

Wen Ning mumbles that a Jin girl he didn’t know had asked him, and he said yes, and he supposes it’ll be fine. It troubles all his friends, since he’s actually incredibly sweet, but that anyone at all asked him seems to be a shock, and that anyone else might do so - or that he might ask someone he liked, and they might say yes - both are apparently so implausible to Wen Ning that he won’t even consider it.

Wei Wuxian asks no one. It’s not that he doesn’t want a partner at the ball...he does, he supposes...but he can’t find the motivation. He’s worried he got eliminated during the last event, and he won’t find out until the banquet before the ball, when the final 16 competitors will be announced, and the uncertainty is making him jumpy and anxious. So, he dithers, and he supports his friends, and he messes with their enemies, and he takes a dilatory approach to preparing for the next event (a dragon hunt) that he may or may not have qualified for…

...and then Jiang Cheng takes him aside, like, “dude you’ve got to find *someone*!”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause all of the top 16 need a date!”

“Then you’re boned, aren’t you…”

“So’re you! Anyway, you’re wrong, I’ve got someone.”

“I didn’t make it, a-di...I’m sure I didn’t…and wait, you do? Who is it?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“You’re a damn liar, you ain’t go no one.”

“No, I’m set, but you’ll sure look like a dumbass if I’m right and you need a date…”

And, well, Jiang Cheng has a point...so Wei Wuxian keeps an ear to the ground, trying to figure out who is still available. The pickings are slim...there are a lot of hopeful younger students, but...no. Just no. At least a dozen people have asked Wei Wuxian, but he’s turned them all done, and now everyone seems to be paired...and then a few hours before the banquet, Luo Qingyang grabs him.

“Pssst, I heard you need a date.”

“Why’re you whispering? Is it a secret?”

“Ask Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian can only blink at her, because *what the actual fuck.* Lan Wangji is leading the competition, and he’s gorgeous, and yeah, he has a shit personality, but even so he must have had every single person in the school and every other school tripping over themselves to ask. Further, if there’s one person he will definitely say no to, it’s Wei Wuxian, because ever since that first time Wei Wuxian yawned during Lan Qiren’s shitty speech, Lan Wangji has hated him. During every meet and greet, during every event, whenever Wei Wuxian glances Lan Wangji’s way, Lan Wangji is glaring at him, scowling, like Wei Wuxian is a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe...and yeah that DID happen, it was part of the whole meeting Nie Huaisang debacle, but still, Wei Wuxian has been doing decently, and has tried to be nice to the guy, and nothing. Still, Luo Qingyang is incredibly persuasive when she wants to be, and finally, Wei Wuxian caves, if only to get her to leave him alone. Lan Wangji is easy to find, lingering in the common room assigned to his school, sitting and reading, still in the white robes he always wears (the girls all swoon at his miraculous ability to keep them pristine through every competition, and there are running bets on what it’ll finally take to stain them) and apparently indifferent to the frenetic preparations that those around him are hurrying through.

“Hey, Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji shoots that disdainful stare at him again.

“Heard you don’t have a date for tonight, is that true?”

Lan Wangji shrugs, eyes back on his book.

“You know all the top competitors need one, right?”

Lan Wangji shrugs again.

“So, you wanna go with me or what?”

The book crashes to the floor and Wei Wuxian is amazed to see Lan Wangji...react? To literally anything? Ever? By looking stricken, and surprised, and taken aback, and maybe a little horrified?

“Ugh, fine, well if my proximity offends you that bad...at least I can tell Luo Qingyang I tried.” And Wei Wuxian manages his own shrug, turns to walk away...and a hand on his shoulder stops him. Turning...there’s Lan Wangji, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, long hair swooping about his shoulders, crap is he pretty, no wonder he’s got half the school in love with him, no wonder he only finds flaws with Wei Wuxian, just like everyone else, no wonder--

“Seriously?”

...what?

Wei Wuxian nods slowly and Lan Wangji’s expression softens.

“Thought you and she were a couple.”

Shocking thing the first: Lan Wangji spoke. Shocking thing the second: Lan Wangji touched him. Shocking thing the third: Lan Wangji has paid enough attention to Wei Wuxian to have drawn conclusions about his love life. Shocking thing the fourth: Lan Wangji apparently has a personality of some kind? Shocking thing the fifth: Lan Wangji certainly doesn’t appear to hate him??

Too confused to speak, Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“I would be pleased to go to the ball with you.”

Shocking thing the sixth: Lan Wangji ACTUALLY WANTS TO GO WITH HIM.

The entire common room goes still, apparently everyone else is as shocked as Wei Wuxian, and then they break into congratulatory hurrahs.

“Whelp, good, okay then,” Wei Wuxian manages, still too asea to have any idea what the hell just happened. “Guess I’d better go get ready. You too. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

The banquet opens with Jin Guangshan rising and pompously announcing who the top 16 are - among them, Wen Chao and Wen Ning both have made it, and Lan Wangji of course, and Nie Huaisang, and the four from the Jin are Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian. He’s so amazed he can only stand, and he glances to Lan Wangji...and gets a smile in return??? And what has his day become he has no idea what’s going on!!

After the meal, the first dance is called, and the way people pair off prompts scads of whispers. Jin Zixuan is the obvious one, of course he’s with Jiang Yanli, and neither looks particularly happy about it. Jin Zixuan keeps glancing toward a Nie girl that Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, and if Wei Wuxian didn’t know better (and after the day he’s had, he’s genuinely not sure if he DOES know better) he’d think that Jiang Yanli kept glancing to Wen Ning. Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a smirk as he and Nie Huaisang go out hand in hand, only to have it fade into stunned wide eyed WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKness when Wei Wuxian goes out with Lan Wangji. It’s clear almost immediately that neither actually knows how to dance, but they both know how to fight, and it sort of translates, and things actually go pretty well.

Dancing with Lan Wangji is nice.

Being near Lan Wangji is nice.

The soft timber of Lan Wangji’s voice on the rare occasions he speaks is nice.

The whole evening is...really surprisingly nice. Memories of all the times Lan Wangji looked at him come back...why WAS Lan Wangji always looking at him? Clearly, Wei Wuxian has mixed everything up monumentally, and he’s starting to wonder if Luo Qingyang suspected as much when she sent him on what he’d thought a wild goose chase, but there’s no asking her, because as soon as the floor opens to the general group so everyone can dance, she’s on the floor with Wen Qing, of all people - it hadn’t even occurred to Wei Wuxian that he could ask a chaperone - and the two are staring adoringly into each other’s eyes and Wei Wuxian would think it insane and weird except that once or twice he realizes he’s kinda sorta maybe vaguely giving Lan Wangji a similar look and what even is his life?

They end up kissing outside the Lan’s common room.

Wei Wuxian has no idea what’s going on but he’s not at all unhappy with the turn of events.

The last couple events are incredibly difficult, the moreso because Wen Chao and Jin Zixun have each either collaboratively or independently decided that this is their last chance to try to get their fiercest competition eliminated. Jin Zixuan loses the next one badly, and Nie Huaisang also seems only too pleased to bow out. The other Wens team up against Wen Ning and he’s eliminated, and almost badly injured, and then they move on Wei Wuxian, and he only holds on by the skin of his teeth...and, he comes to suspect, because Jiang Cheng did something, because that’s the only explanation he’s got for why Jiang Cheng is eliminated even though Jin Zixun bombed one of the events. Eventually, the final 8 are chosen…

Wen Chao and some other Wen.

Lan Wangji and some other Lan.

Two random Nies.

And Jin Zixun and Wei Wuxian.

Intent on preparing even though he knows Jin Zixun hates him, Wei Wuxian approaches him. They’re supposed to work together against the other six, after all...but Jin Zixun won’t even talk to him, so Wei Wuxian assumes he’s actually on his own and does his own preparation. That morning, he’s absolutely sick to his stomach. Rumor is that some students have died in the duels before. It’s no holds barred, no spells off limits, even an Unforgivable Curse would be allowed if someone actually knew one. Weapons, sword-flying, everything is allowed. Wei Wuxian has his sword Suibian, his flute and his wand when he joins the others. They all look fidgety, and the only one who spares Wei Wuxian a glance is Lan Wangji, and he looks concerned. They’ve spent time together as they’ve been able, but it’s been little enough, the event occupying most of their time, and Wei Wuxian was in the hospital for a week after the last event with no visitors allowed.

“Be careful out there,” Lan Wangji murmurs to him, giving his hand a squeeze, and Wei Wuxian can only return the sentiment, but he’s not worried. Lan Wangji has led the competition since day one, and leads it still, and everyone is assuming he’ll win, presumably with his white robes still pristine.

Finally, the final duel starts, and Wei Wuxian realizes immediately that it’s so much worse than he feared, when the Wen opposing Wen Chao eliminates himself, and Jin Zixun ignores all foes to immediately turn on Wei Wuxian, and he loses track of what the others are doing because fighting Jin Zixun takes all his focus. Jin Zixun has been training for this his whole life, and he’s a year older, and whereas Wei Wuxian doesn’t actually particularly want to harm him, Jin Zixun’s every action makes it clear he couldn’t care less if he kills Wei Wuxian. It’s as hard a battle as anything he’s ever done, and it’s only when Wei Wuxian stops pulling his punches (he can hear his friends screaming at him that he’s an idiot from the sidelines) that he finally FINALLY wins.

But the cost has been high.

His qi is depleted. His body aches. He’s bleeding from multiple wounds and from the mouth. Suibian has been tossed from the competition area, and his wand is broken, leaving him with only Chenqing. And he’s got no idea who else is left, who might yet be in his way…

...and oh god, is he going to have to fight Lan Wangji? He won’t do it, no matter what…

...and he takes a step back, and Wen Chao’s voice shouts - he must have been lurking, waiting for the end of Wei Wuxian’s battle, knowing whoever won would be weakest and least on guard immediately after - and the word cruciatus echoes across the suddenly silent arena, and Wei Wuxian squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for agony...and it never comes.

He opens his eyes.

Lan Wangji stands before him, panting with effort, his guqin before himself, his fingers on the strings as he uses his own qi to catch the Unforgivable curse and contain it. The effort of it is clearly great; a cough spurts blood from Lan Wangji’s mouth, staining red down the front of his pristine white robes, but he doesn’t give up, and Wen Chao’s expression contorts as he tries and tries to force the spell through Lan Wangji’s resistance...and then it explodes in Wen Chao’s face, and he screams as the backfire casts the spell on himself.

“Wen Chao - eliminated!”

Lan Wangji collapses to his knees, spells evaporating in a swirl of blue motes. His wand falls to the ground near Wei Wuxian’s feet, and he uncertainly picks it up. It feels odd in his hands, but he’s sure he could cast with it.

“Why?” whispers Wei Wuxian.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Who’s left?”

“You and me.”

And this is it - his moment. Lan Wangji is hurt, down, bloody and muddy. Wei Wuxian is exhausted and hurt, but he’s up, and he’s got Chenqing, and he could do plenty with it even if he doesn’t want to use Lan Wangji’s wand...and why wouldn’t he want to use the wand?...Wei Wuxian could get everything he wants, the prize, the respect, the marriage proposals, everything...but Lan Wangji couldn’t let Wen Chao hurt him, and Wei Wuxian can’t possibly, can’t FATHOM, hurting Lan Wangji.

“I’m out,” he shouts to the judges.

“Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian will engage in a wizard’s duel to determine a final winner.”

“I won’t,” Wei Wuxian bellows back.

“Eliminate me,” Lan Wangji whispers, for his ears alone. “I always knew you were going to beat me.”

As if that’s not the craziest shit Wei Wuxian has ever heard.

“You’re the brightest young master of our generation, Lan Wangji...it was always going to be you.” And Wei Wuxian realizes he means that in so many more ways than merely as regards the competition.

Because Wei Wuxian feels so much more toward Lan Wangji than he’d ever imagined he could toward anyone, much less toward the supposedly cold and indifferent and aloof Second Young Master Lan.

“Very well,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. Lan Wangji closes his eyes. “Petrificus totalus!” Wei Wuxian shouts...and aims the wand at his own feet.

And the next thing he’s aware of, he’s in the infirmary, and Jiang Yanli and...Wen Qing and Wen Ning???...are there, and Wen Qing is leaning over him while the other two have a hushed conversation across the room. Six of the seven other finalists are there as well - the self-eliminated Wen didn’t hurt himself badly enough to need the hospital - and Wen Qing is roughly jabbing at a pierced wound in his side, ignoring his grimace and soft protest.

“You’re all idiots, and this is all stupid, and I have no idea why any of the schools sanction this insanity, and you shut your face, Wei Wuxian, and let me do my job…”

He can’t really argue with her. Everything hurts too much anyway.

So Lan Wangji is awarded winner, but given that he spends that night in Wei Wuxian’s arms, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure that he’s the actual winner. He got his respect, too - beating Jin Zixun one on one impressed a LOT of people, and before the houses all leave to go back to their own clans, Nie Mingjue offers him a job post-graduation, and Jiang Cheng gets all offended since obviously Wei Wuxian will be working for him, and Lan Wangji promises to send him owls every day, and Wei Wuxian lies through his teeth when he assures Lan Wangji that he’ll do the same (it’s not a lie because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows he’s not a fraction well enough organized to actually pull something like that off), and Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang exchange tearful farewells...and Wen Ning stays, which is surprising and excellent, and in amazingly short order, things go back to normal…

...except they never quite go back to normal.

Because Jin Zixuan breaks off his engagement to Jiang Yanli, announcing that he’s too in love with that Nie girl who’s name Wei Wuxian still doesn’t know to consider marrying simply to satisfy his family.

And because as soon as she’s at liberty to do so, in front of the entire assembly, Jiang Yanli stalks across the room, grabs the front of Wen Ning’s robes, and hauls him into a kiss.

And because Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng solve the “which clan gets to keep Wei Wuxian” problem by announcing their own engagement.

And because Jin Zixun graduates at the end of the year, and as soon as he’s gone all the Jin who used to torment Wei Wuxian sheepishly apologize and say Jin Zixun made them - themselves or Wei Wuxian - and while he doesn’t forgive them their abuses, he can at least tolerate being their classmates.

And because Luo Qingyang announces that she’s renouncing the Jin clan, and that she and Wen Qing are planning to ride off into the sunset and start their own clan with two well known independent wizards of their acquaintance, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They pointedly suggest that Wei Wuxian go with them.

And because Lan Wangji keeps his promise and sends Wei Wuxian a letter every day, and Wei Wuxian - wonder of wonders - succeeds in replying daily, by giving up on the idea of sending letters and instead sending drawings. Lan Wangji loves the idea of joining the new sect.

And because, after graduation, when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng try to claim him, they find themselves beaten to the punch, because Lan Wangji has already got him heart, soul, body and mind. The two begrudgingly conceded that Lan Wangji can marry him, as long as he’ll continue to be part of all three clans, and help with enchantments and Night Hunts and whatever else.

Wei Wuxian is shocked to find himself so wanted, and does everything he can to satisfy all the claims on him.

It’s a way better life than Wei Wuxian had ever dared to hope for.

And he’s got every reason to think it’s only going to get better and better.

#unforth writes #wangxian #untamed #harry potter #idek how to tag this #or if anyone will read it #but i had fun writing it so oh well #i'll xpost it to AO3 later #the reason i didn't do anything real is that I'm actually kind of fried #did a bunch of construction work on my house #and had to take my mom to urgent care #don't worry she's fine

13 notes · View notes

nobodies-png · 4 years

Note

HC: Xemnas and the other Xehanorts love playing Animal Crossing.

Just because ACNH has been such a fuckin BEACON OF JOY in my life since it came out (even though I have no means of playing lol) i’m adding some general animal crossing Nort headcanons

Master Xenahort :

He’d be a snooty goat, pretty obvious. All of his letters sound vaguely threatening and pretty creepy, but he also sends super rare furniture so it’s not like you can complain that much. Whenever he’s in your town, all of your flowers are bound to turn black for some weird fucking reason. - no one knows if this is a feature or a glitch You have more chances of getting him to show up if you have a heart shaped pond for him to lurk around.

As for Xenahort playing Animal Crossing, weLL. Good luck getting this old boomer figure out how the controls and everything else works. He seems to like Isabelle a lot because “she’s efficient and a cute dog” but he ALSO likes Apollo and his litte “PAH !” catchphrase. Xenahort could have a pretty gothic and aesthetic world if it weren’t for the fact that he struggles with technology. Also also the guy who’d listen to all teh fun facts Blathers has.

Ansem (Heartless) :

A jock/cranky boar maybe. The kind of villager you wouldn’t really give much thought about, he looks a little funky and emo but eh, it’s not a big deal - until you get into his house and see that it’s pretty much chaos. There’s furniture you’ve never seen and are those fucking GLOWING EYES in the background ? You don’t think you wanna know. Exclusively comes out at night when there’s literally no other villager awake and he’s never present during holidays or events.

Ansem wouldn’t even play Animal Crossing, ngl. He has 0 interest in the game and would most likely drop it after 10 minutes. Also why can he only call like ONE person in the attic ? Fucking whack, that’s not how phones work. Spends the entire time complaining about little things he doesn’t understand. Like come on, man they’re just funky talking animals, let them live.

Xemnas :

A lazy wolf. More quiet and lethargic than actually lazy. The guy is pretty quiet the first days UNTIL you start befriending them, then you’ll discover that he’s actually a fucking chatterbox. You can find Xemnas on the beach at sunset just vibing most of the time or at the museum. After having him around for a while, you notice that he’s the only fucking villager in your town that hasn’t celebrated nor told you when his birthday is. His house is pretty minimalist and monochrome.

Xemnas doesn’t exactly “play” the game - he mostly just roams around, doing absolutely nothing or just talking with people while going “Hmmm” Ohhh” “I see. . .” and other noises to himself. Couldn’t figure out how to give Isabelle a seashell on the first days so he just dropped that shit on the town hall pavement and it’s been there since then. Xemnas also never learns the real names of the villagers in his town, he just names them after people he knows and calls it a day.

Vanitas :

Definitely a jock cat, but like, the mean kind. He’s just too childish and energetic to be a cranky villager lol - his catchphrase is probably some shit like “idiot”. Not even a nickname, he just adds that at the end of sentences. Vanitas (or Catnitas :punch: :pensive) runs through the flowers but ONLY when you’re watching, orders the weirdest and most complex coffee just to see if you can make it - and then when you show him that you can, he’s impressed but also angry cause now he has to drink that shit. If you get Vanitas on your town, there’s a high chance that Ventus also moves in right next to him and viceversa.

Vanitas claims that he doesn’t give a shit about Animal Crossing, but his town is impeccable and he WILL kill for the villagers he loves - even if he’d also just try to straight up kill the ones he hates lol. The type of guy who carries around an axe 24/7 for no reason other than aesthetics and to make a Statement (tm). His house is pretty ugly though and he gets mad because he just doesn’t know how to properly decorate it to get a good grade.

Young Xenahort :

Smug goat. Smug goat. SMUG GOAT. The 100% definition of smug bastard - old Xenahort at least had the decency to SEND you rare furniture, but this guy just DISPLAYS it all on his house and MAKES SURE you know how pitiful it is that you can’t have the same things as he does. His house is chess themed and he has a picture of Eraqus somewhere. All of his letters sound condescending and he tries to use really long words to sound cooler, but we all know the truth.

Young Xenahort shares a switch with Young Eraqus so naturally they share islands in ACNH. Eraqus didn’t really mind but Xenahort REALLY wanted to divide the island in half so that they could have their own territory. IRONICALLY, he spends most of the time on Eraqus’ side tidying shit up - because he just can’t help getting mad whenever he sees how messy everything is, with all the fucking fish just laying around because Blathers isn’t there yet. Young Xenahort also insists on only having white roses and is very hellbent on keeping a strict aesthetic.

Terranort :

The snooty lion she tells you not to worry about. Also a bit smug, but not as bad as the actual Xenahort - he’s actually pretty tolerable, when he’s not giving you the cold shoulder. The villager that takes you 207456 years to actually befriend and who only likes super specific and rare items as gifts. It’s really funny to bully him around because he only gets angry and just stomps around all day after that.

Another sad lad who wouldn’t play AC BUT if he DID he’d have some intense lore and one man larping sessions with the villagers. Like, those people who get WAY too into it. And sadly that’s all I got on him because I wasted all of my juice on writing for the other guys who are all technically the same guy.

Dark Riku :

Stereotypical jock wolf - head empty no thoughts, only muscles, sports and a deep seated inferiority complex. If you send him fruit, he’ll send you garbage in return. The only villager who wil SMACK you back with a net if you hit him, but his letters are oddly ??? Pretty nice and normal too ??? Unlike all of his regular dialogue about beating you up at every single game and sport possible in this entire world. Like, calm down, bro. Calm down and have a caprisun. Brags a lot about his “friend Kairi” from another town, which is sad cause she doesn’t. Actually know him. At all.

Like Vanitas, e-boy Riku says he “doesn’t give a shit about some animal AI from a kids game” but he actually does. Sable is BEST girl in his eyes and getting her to open up and share her story with him was a magical moment. The game is super soothing and it calms him down, he’d even listen to those Lo-Fi AC 24/7 streams on youtube whenever he needs to c h i l l.

Xigbar :

Peppy panther, I don’t even have to tell y’all what his catchphrase is. Constantly breaks the fourth wall with little jokes, known to “teleport” - he kinda ends up showing up on every single store and building you enter, as if nothing happened. Sends you VERY specific letters describing shit he shouldn’t knowor stupid jokes and puns. LOVES to gossip about other villagers and gives you that Extra Lore and trivia about them - but whenever you ask others about him, they just Dont Know Anything About Xigbar. Are you SURE he’s in your town, mayor ?

Xigbar would mostly play Pocket Camp because it’s easier than carrying around a fuckin ds or a switch. It’s also less work and it’s a nice distraction from all the drama going around in the real organization. To play ACNH or ACNL he probably leeches off someone else’s console and he’d exclusively visit others’ towns just to fuck with them or annoy them to death by surrounding their houses with pitfalls.

#kh headcanons #mariahmaru #heartcanon mondays #except its tuesday here #Xenahort #Ansem the Seeker #Xemnas #Vanitas #Young Xenahort #Terranort #Dark Riku #Xigbar #im this close to calling this group motherfuckers unlimited or something like that

51 notes · View notes

ordinaryfander · 5 years

Text

The new video sure was something, uh

So, as usual I'm here to brag about the newest video. This time, I'm going to analyze "Dealing with INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS", and it's a long analysis/theory, so be patient with me.

This will majorly center around Remus and "the Others", so beware! (I'm so happy I don't have to call them Dark Sides anymore, it was never fair)

I wrote many points to consider, and each one will take quite a bit. With that, let's begin!

1) So:

[ 1) Remus: Who he is, what he does, why he's there ]

I think we can all agree that his debut was a surprise, especially because most of us were expecting the "Green Side" to be associated with something like Envy, or Greed, since dark green is sometimes associated with money.

However, we got Remus, aka Intrusive Thoughts, which I think is, in my opinion, the best option they could face.

So: he is Thomas' nasty thoughts, the evil, twisted fantasies, and he keeps Thomas' awake at night with dark ideas, he gives him the worst thoughts to deal with, things Thomas is deeply troubled to think of, because as Logan said, his catholic beliefs instilled in him that thought is the precursor of action.

Remus is there, and why is he there?

The fun thing is: I don't think he's there to be "useful". Later I'll explain where I think his Character Arc is going to go, but Remus really doesn't have any reason to be there except that intrusive thoughts are something absolutely everyone deals with. You all have to consider that, even if those are Thomas' Sides, they're also everyone's Sides. We all have Logic, Creativity, Morality, Anxiety, and we all lie (I'll return to that).

And this traits help us live with eveyday life?

But intrusive thoughts? They just majorly upset us, and worsen our view of ourselves, but we all still have them.

However, I'm really happy with this choice, because Thomas is starting to really show what I've been screaming since Deceit's debut: things are not black and white, and he is NOT a completely good person, because NO ONE is, not 100%. We can act like good people and sincerely mean to do good, but we're still gonna have dark, horrible thoughts. And, as Thomas' said, that's ok. Those thoughts don't make you a bad person if you don't act on them, but you should consider a therapist/psychiatrist if they bother you too much. There's no shame in that, too: please, reach out for help, if needed.

[ 2) Remus' relationships with: Roman, Deceit, and Virgil ]

- Remus' relationship with Roman

At 35:50, it's officially and definitely confirmed that Remus and Roman are brothers, probably even twins.

A moment after the Duke disappears, Roman says "I don't like him".

Thomas goes, at Roman: "So, you have a brother?"

And Roman clearly is uncomfortable with it: "Yeah... It's a little like looking into a fun-house mirror. But instead of a giant head, or, like, long legs or a tiny torso... It shows you everything you don't want to be."

Thomas answers: "That doesn't sound like a very funny house"

And Roman: "Yeah... Uhh, whatever, y'know-? (...)"

Roman and Remus obviously don't get along, but we understood that the moment Remus knocked out Roman with that weapon I don't know the name of (sorry rip, don't focus on this :'))

Roman considers himself a dashing Disney Prince, a knight in shining armor, an example of bravery and justice, while Remus is pure chaotic evil. He doesn't care what other people think and his idea of fun and fantasy is twisted, and he isn't afraid of Roman and his sword in the slightest. They're opposites.

Unluckily we didn't get much brotherly interactions or interactions at all, so there's no much to say, but those two have a whole damn lot to work through.

The question that many have been asking is: do Roman and Remus share a room?

The answer is: I honestly don't know. It would be a complete and utter mess that Roman would hate to have to share. Time will tell.

- Remus' relationship with Deceit

We haven't even seen them interacting on screen, but we already know so damn much about it.

WAY BACK in "Can LYING Be Good?", this was said about Deceit:

Roman: "If you really don't want to know something, he (Deceit) can keep our moutjs shut."

And Logan immediately goes "You don't want to believe it. That's where his (Deceit's) power comes from. Things that you want to believe. Things that you wish were true. And things that you wish weren't."

And later:

Deceit is able to shut up the Sides, but he's also able to hide them. That's what he did with Remus, he kept him locked away.

I've always been rooting for morally gray/sympathetic Deceit, but I'll try to stay neutral on this: though, I really believe that Deceit was trying to protect Thomas.

Remus is... A lot, to say the least. He's pure chaos, and isn't useful or helpful (for now) and doesn't even care to be. Deceit, on the other side, really cares about Thomas, and he showed that in many ways: he just cares about Thomas in his own way. Missing the callback of SVS still hurts Thomas after all this time, and I already explained why Deceit tried his best to do what was good for Thomas in court (https://ordinaryfander.tumblr.com/post/183871155711/thomas-shouldve-gone-to-do-the-callback-he).

I also said, tho, that in SVS Deceit was frustrated to no end because the other Sides weren't listening to him.

Look how confused he is at Patton's words.

You know why? Because Thomas thinks what he says. Thomas lies, and Deceit is there to prove it.

But they didn't listen to Deceit, but Deceit isn't like Virgil: Virgil waited lots of episodes to be listened to until he finally ducked out.

Deceit straight up released Thomas' worst thoughts because Thomas had to face in the most hard way that he is n o t a completely honest person. Deceit just got really pissed and went: "You know what? I'm useful, you need me and I'll prove it."

And he just did that. He straight up released Remus, Thomas' worst thoughts, on them. Deceit is the only one who could do that, and you know why he did?

Remus: "Thomas, speaking of knowledge; recently a snake offered me a morsel from the tree of knowledge. He said you're wanting to be more honest and be direct dealing with your issues, no longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you, me!"

Deceit smacked in the face Thomas with Remus, so Thomas could get the point. I think he did. "If you don't want to lie to yourself, at least face who you really are"

About Remus and Deceit alone...

I don't think Deceit really likes Remus. Deceit is kinda goofy, but he's also sophisticated, charming, a silver-tongue. Remus is a stinky garbage man.

Deceit wants to protect Thomas' reputation, Remus would destroy it. Probably Remus likes Deceit (I think he likes everyone, he doesn't care), but Deceit doesn't really reciprocate the feeling. I could surely be proven wrong, those are just my points.

- Remus' relationship with Virgil

Boy oh boy.

Well, the video already said what I could'be said: Virgil dislikes Remus, he doesn't trust him, but he's also not as scared of him anymore like he used to be.

Virgil, at Remus (32:27): "I thought you were some... Horrible illness. Now I can see that you're just a common cold, a mild inconvenience that's gone before you know it."

And Remus looks at him like this:

That's not a evil look. He's soft, almost proud.

He isn't even offended. He just goes "Eheh, you tickle me, emo."

And Virgil has one blink-and-you-miss-it-moment when he genuinely smiles.

I think he did somehow used to like (platonically y'all) Remus, even if he was scared of him. They were still... Friends, maybe, at some point. Deceit and Virgil never had such a kind-of-sweet moment, even if just a few seconds long, and even if the Duke and Virgil still are not likely to get along in general and for the time being. The Duke's phrase about Old Times wasn't a welcomed one by Virgil.

I don't wanna dig in too much else, we already know that Virgil doesn't still trust the Duke. That was just some looks I noticed that stuck with me.

Also, I won't ignore the fragment revelead his name and said: "Of course (I told you, Thomas), I would never hide anything to you." And it cuts right off to Virgil. Eh. Busted.

- How Will His Character Arc Go?

That one is the most important question.

Everyone is gonna believe what they will, but I don't think he'll get... Sympathetic, even? He's just pure chaos.

Maybe his Arc will entangle with a Roman new one, maybe his Arc will entangle with Deceit's. I do hope that Thomas and co. will now value Deceit better, he really isn't that bad... At least, not compared to Remus.

Deceit shut up Logan guys, but Remus straight up murdered him. Even if they can't literally die, y'all really can't close a whole eye on that.

So I just think he's gonna stay around and do mischief, but will surely get some sort of development related to other characters. I'm almost sure he won't get a Solo Arc, surely not for now. However, I'm pretty sure they'll get back to talk how to manage him, and how he can become more useful.

- Conclusions and predictions for the next video

Honestly, sorry this was messier than my normal analysis/theory posts, but I don't fully know how to take Remus yet.

Y'all see, the moment I knew Deceit I made my mind up: he's morally gray, he has a purpose, he has to get credit for it.

Remus confused me in every possible way. He's chaos. I'm sure we won't see him in the next video, but I predict maybe Deceit will be in it, just to look how good of a job he's done.

And that's pretty much it. I hope you all have a good time :>

307 notes · View notes

chaoscheebs · 5 years

Text

Celdic Crew Group Chat Log

So, um, look, I had the urge to type out a fake chat log for Fie, Elliot, and Machias, because they’re probably pretty tight after what happened post Cold-Steel 1/early-ish Cold Steel II. No serious spoilers I can think of, it’s just a roller-coaster of stuff.

Tl;dr their group chats are wild.

------

Fie: you see this is why i’m the only one of us who’s touched a boob

Elliot: Didn’t Machias technically touch one too?

Machias: WHAT WHEN?!?!?

Fie: oh yeah, in the windmill. forgot about that

Machias: WHAT I DID NOT

Fie: you were sleeping. you called me ‘jusis’ and went in for the squeeze. honestly you were doing a pretty good job, i was almost hesitant to smack you awake

Machias: WHAT

Elliot: Man, I still get why you did that, Fie, but did you have to smack him hard enough to make him elbow ME?????

Machias: THAT WAS WHY YOU DID THAT!?!?!?!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!?!?!!

Fie: didn’t seem important

Elliot: Honestly, I thought you knew you were Mr. Hands in your sleep already after all the times *I* elbowed you awake too.

Machias: NO I DID NOT YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!!!! I WOULD HAVE SLEPT FURTHER FROM YOU IF YOU TOLD ME!!!!!!!

Elliot: And let you freeze instead? We knew the risks after the first night. D|

Fie: nah he wouldn’t have frozen, it wasn’t THAT cold. he’d COMPLAIN a lot in the morning tho

Elliot: Oh, yeah, definitely. Especially since we didn’t have his terrifying favorite coffee blend available there.

Fie: lol yeah

Machias: MY COFFEE ISN’T TERRIFYING AND ALSO DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT

Elliot: Machias, it has a *caution label* on it to not drink more than two cups of it and you down the whole damned pitcher! D: D: D:

Fie: it’s honestly kinda impressive, you really are unbreakable lol

Machias: CAN WE GET BACK TO THE POINT ALREADY?!?!?

Elliot: Machias, when do we ever get to the point here?

Machias: . . . DON’T TRY TO CONFUSE ME WITH LOGIC HERE. 8T

Fie: lol

Elliot: *Anyway*, if we were really upset about it, we would’ve said something, but we knew you really missed your boyfriend, so…

Machias: HE IS NOT—I MEAN HE WAS NOT—ARGH THIS IS STILL HARD TO ADMIT NOW

Fie: that’s the other reason we didn’t say anything, you were EXTRA shouty whenever we mentioned him back then

Elliot: Truth. You two going from *loudly* hatefucking constantly to actually admitting you *liked* each other was a long, wild ride. A long, *LOUD* wild ride. D|

Machias: JUSIS STILL TWITCHES HILARIOUSLY WHENEVER HE HEARS “THE DEVIL WENT DOWN TO CELDIC” THANKS TO YOU TRYING TO MAKE US STOP BEING LOUD, BY THE WAY

Fie: so does alisa, she had some choice words about your angry midnight concertos too

Elliot: Oops. She did kinda live above me, didn’t she? I should maybe send her apology flowers someday.

Machias: THAT’D ONLY BE NICE.

Fie: i notice you’re not asking for flowers too

Machias: HONESTLY WE KINDA DESERVED IT. ALSO IT WAS PRETTY FUNNY. SERIOUSLY, SOME STREET MUSICIAN WAS PLAYING IT ON OUR LAST, ER, MEETING AND YOU COULD FEEL THE BARELY REPRESSED ANGER COMING OFF OF HIM, LOL.

Fie: lol

Elliot: Lol.

Fie: so did rean ever realize you weren’t playing unsexy violin ditties because you just love music that much?

Elliot: Not on his own, no. Emma and I ended up talking to him about several things he was, um, overlooking waaaaaaaaaaaaay back before that school festival at the academy.

Machias: OVERLOOKING, MY BUTT, HE HAD TO BE WILLFULLY IGNORANT AT THAT POINT. I’M PRETTY SURE EVEN MILLIUM HAD IT FIGURED OUT AT A GLANCE, HOW DID EVERYTHING AROUND HIM FLY OVER HIS HEAD THAT MUCH

Fie: lol wow way to burn yourself man

Machias: IN MY DEFENSE I’M ALSO BURNING JUSIS AT THE SAME TIME, WE WERE COMPLETE GARBAGE HIDING ANYTHING AND WE ALL KNOW IT.

Fie: true, lol

Elliot: Also in his defense, I was also talking about all the *other* stuff that flew right over his head. Like the fact he kept taking me to *date spots* and also apparently witnessed Laura’s love confession to you, Fie, and completely didn’t notice.

Fie: eh, it was laura. it flew over her head too for a while. good thing she’s kinda cute when she’s clueless, lol

Elliot: It’s terrifying that Machias and Jusis were the closest to having their stuff together out of all of us back then, by the way.

Fie: absolutely horrifying

Machias: HEY

Elliot: It’s kinda true. You two were at each other’s throats for a while there, man.

Fie: and not in the kinky way

Elliot: It’s probably in the kinky way now, tho’. XD

Fie: no doubt lol

Machias: WILL YOU TWO STOP?!?!? BESIDES DON’T YOU TWO HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO THAN RIP ON ME????????

Elliot: Not really; my schedule’s clear today.

Fie: the better question is don’t YOU have anything better to do than stay here and get dunked on

Machias: . . . NOT REALLY I’M WAITING ON JUSIS’S TRAIN TO COME IN

Elliot: Well, there you go.

Fie: aww, you have plans then?

Machias: NOT ANYTHING MAJOR, HE’S COMING IN ON BUSINESS AND I THOUGHT WE COULD AT LEAST SQUEEZE IN LUNCH TOGETHER BETWEEN THAT

Elliot: “Lunch.”

Fie: ‘lunch’

Machias: OH GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER

Elliot: So you’re not planning on finding a closet to fool around in, then~? ;)

Machias: . . . . . . . . . SHUT UP

Fie: this is text

Machias: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!!!! AND HONESTLY, FOR SOMEONE WHO KEEPS TALKING SHIT ABOUT ME BEING A HORNBALL, YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ALWAYS KEPT FINDING SOME DOROTHEE-LEVEL GAY SMUT, ELLIOT

Fie: it’s always the cute, quiet ones lololol

Elliot: Hey, Dorothee knew where it was at, guys; you’re all just mean. :(

Machias: IT ALWAYS SURPRISED ME HOW SHE GOT AWAY WITH AS MUCH AS SHE DID WITH THOSE BOOKS

Elliot: Eh, when it sticks to just text, it’s hard to tell at a glance if it’s “clean” or not without reading the whole thing, and teachers don’t have time for that. Thank Aidios for exploitable loopholes!

Machias: DIDN’T PROTECT ME WHEN YOU GAVE SOME “LITERATURE” TO READ. 8|

Elliot: That’s because it had illustrations; it’s hard *not* to notice when there’s pages like that. Quality art, tho’.

Machias: . . . IT KINDA WAS

Fie: ok, first what book is this, and second why didn’t you share with me

Elliot: Because it got confiscated way back when. It’s out of print now too to boot, dammit. :( :( :(

Machias: RIP IN PIECES, LOVE’S FIRST BITE, PEPPERONY AND CHEASE

Fie: what

Elliot: Machias, get off the orbal net, we’re worried about you.

Machias: ORBAL NET MEMES ARE THE WAY OF THE FUTURE, DAMN IT

Fie: neeeeeeeeeeeeerd

Elliot: Turbo-nerd.

Fie: lord nerdlinger regnitz-albarea of the nerdlinger province

Machias: DAMN IT DON’T START MARRYING ME OFF WE’RE NOT AT THAT POINT YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Elliot: Too late, we’ve called Gaius, he’s gonna officiate the marriage.

Fie: he said ‘fucking finally, next we have to get rean and elliot to be a thing’

Elliot: FIE!!

Machias: HA

Fie: it’s true tho, you need to go kiss your husband already, elliot

Machias: SERIOUSLY, I NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHY YOU TWO NEVER ENDED UP A THING, YOU TWO WERE SUPER-CLOSE EVEN BACK AT THE ACADEMY

Elliot: Rean’s not interested. End of story.

Fie: did you ask him?

Elliot: Don’t need to. If he couldn’t tell I was flirting with him, or notice where exactly he kept taking me, he clearly wasn’t into me like that. End. Of. Story.

Machias: ELLIOT, WE HAVE ESTABLISHED REAN IS A HUGE DUMBASS IN THIS AREA. ASK HIM.

Elliot: I. Said. End. Of. Story.

Fie: ouch, we found a sore spot :c

Elliot: Look, I just… I don’t really want to talk about this, OK? Rean’s never seemed super-interested in… anyone, really, and I doubt I’m magically going to be the exception, and I accept that.

Machias: . . . . . . . . .

Fie: …………………………………

Machias: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Elliot: … you really want to say something, don’t you.

Fie: not saying a word

Machias: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . OK LOOK

Fie: oh boy

Machias: I’D ARGUE YOU’RE THE ONLY PERSON HE’S SHOWN ANY SERIOUS INTEREST IN, ELLIOT. HE TOOK ***ME*** TO THAT DUMB ROSE GARDEN THING FIRST AND I TOLD HIM IT WAS MORE A COUPLE’S THING AND HE STILL TOOK ***YOU*** THERE TOO. REAN IS AN AWKWARD ***DUMBASS*** ABOUT THIS STUFF, ***ASK HIM***

Elliot: Machias…

Machias: BE DIRECT AND ASK HIM OUT. IF HE SAYS NO, HE REALLY ISN’T INTERESTED, OK, FINE, GIVE UP THEN. BUT DON’T GIVE UP BEFORE YOU REALLY TRY!!!!

Elliot: … ha. Man, you really can’t stop yourself from talking, huh?

Machias: HEY, I MIGHT BE A DUMBASS ABOUT THIS KINDA THING TOO, BUT I’M A DUMBASS IN A STEADY RELATIONSHIP. I KNOW THINGS SOMETIMES.

Fie: i can’t believe i’m agreeing with him, but for once, he has a point. do the thing, go get you your man

Elliot: Fie… Man, you guys…

Machias: DAMN, I THINK THAT’S JUSIS’S TRAIN. SEE YOU LATER, GUYS.

Fie: have fun on your ‘lunch date’

Machias: OH DON’T START

Elliot: Yeah, later, Machias. Um… thanks for caring?

Machias: THANK ME ONCE YOU’VE GOTTEN YOURSELF YOUR BOYFRIEND. BYE!!

[MACHIAS has left the room]

Elliot: … he really doesn’t understand how severe that sounds at all, does he.

Fie: nope

#my fic #trails of cold steel #trailskiseki

15 notes · View notes

lumiereswig · 5 years

Note

Do you have any crossovers with/AUs inspired by "Moulin Rouge!"? I know there's a fics list page but my wifi is so stupid slow it never loads so I can never tell.

nope! srry

since u can’t load the fics page im gonna give it all to you right here boo

Lumiere discovers something new, post-curse: Matches

Plumette/Lumiere, pre-curse. Plumette growing up and Lumiere growing close. Lit By The Sun

Plumette/Lumiere, immediately after being cursed: Fire and Feathers

Lumiere meets the prince for the first time: A Showman Through and Through

Plumette/Lumiere as college kids: Modern AU that is not super great but eh i tried

plumiere in love: it’s right here for now (at least until I edit it and make it better)

here’s Scotland

“a maid that has a crush on Lumiere faking being Plumette and trying to seduce him”: hahaha this one still makes me laugh

abandoned ‘kidnapped’ fic—here

lumiere finding out plumette is pregnant: Here.

lumiere sees the baby for the first time: Here. Aww.

“a one shot in which plumette and lumiere go on a romantic tryst about the castle in the days following their wedding 💕”: poor cogsworth

Lumiere is the sexiest sandwich in the palace. Here.

Plumette gets sick, it’s really sad: Right over here, pal.

More plumiere falling in love here.

Tale as old as time, older than that guy, Beauty and Maurice.

garderenza backstory? here it is

So, like: what if Mulan showed up.

“can i please have a crack-shippy fic where everybody is in love with the wrong people.” Here.

figuring out how to be human again. here

lumiere/plumette body swap HERE.

“Movie night at the castle!” As you wish.

a bunch of other maids have a crush on lumiere and try to get his attention: a short fic about trapezes

“A group of poor motherless ducklings imprint on Plumette” QUACK QUACK.

“please expand on that night when Plumette and co. got drunk because of Chapeau’s brandy + wine idea…” I don’t know why I like writing drunk!staff so much but i DO

1991, MEET 2017!

What happened to Gaston? The only Gaston fic I’ll ever write, probably. Here.

He is nineteen. She is younger. Lumiere tells Plumette a fairytale. Lit by the Moon.

“How about a fic were the staff play light as a feather stiff as a board with Plumette as the board.“ what the fuck even is this game i am still confused but on y va, i guess

ATTRACTIVE FARMER MAN AND HIS TWO WIVES

Plumette’s last seconds before the curse takes hold. Laughing Still.

Forgotten. [Ongoing]

Plumiere in the rain. Quick mini-fic. I’ve Seen Fire and Rain

“quick question : how often does lumiere get sick?” Here.

“What if the day the curse was broken the staff go batshit crazy over being able to eat again so they eat until their stomachs hurt. Then Chip starts a food fight by throwing a bread roll at Cogsworth.” THIS HAPPENED?

“A dragon comes to try and eat Plumette” Lumiere is a fire-bender

“crack fic where they somehow discover theyre fictional” this one was so fun to write, lumiere picks up ewan’s scottish accent and hates it

“What about a really cute fic were Lumiere and Plumette fake being sick so they don’t have to work and get to spend the whole day together” poor cogsworth part 2

“Who gets the weird nightmares and who consoles the other at two in the morning because they’re in tears.” Me, because I just want my OTP to have nice things. Here.

”coffeeshop au but its still set in the 18th century“ BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ROUSSEAU, THO??

“Can you write about Lumiere throwing Plumette a surprise birthday party for her?” hey

“Chip wants to be maître d’ someday and follows Lumière around the castle as his little protégé” he’s going to be a better one than lumiere here

“don’t think about how painful the transformation must have been for the servants" do i ever think of anything else. [the answer is no]

“*Whispers in your ear* AMNESIAC LUMIERE” FUCK. HOW’D YOU KNOW I LOVE AMNESIA FICS?? FUCK. ultimately one of my favorite fics. holy fuck

“*Whispers in your ear* AMNESIAC LUMIERE” part TWO, motherfuckers

“Maybe one during the curse where they can suddenly hear the soundtrack around them?“ poor cadenza

“What if somebody after the curse was broken just out of nowhere started playing the Aria. I NEED FEELS” have you thought about horrible things yet today

“The castle has to order in pizza” adam would like to register a complaint.

“Ewan McGregor and Lumiere switching universes" here

”A water balloon fight that gets out of hand?“ SPLASH.

Les Miserabeauty and the Beast. Here.

“Can you do where everyone is turn into a baby” ANGST

STANFOU ROMANCE

“Nutcracker AU?!” aw fuck here

“I Never Really Knew You”—Cadenza & Adam

“He Must Loathe Me”—Chapeau & Plumette

“The Sound of Her Weeping”—Garderobe & Lumiere

“Her Little Satin Slippers”—Cogsworth & Plumette

“Home”—Mrs. Potts & Plumette

“Chapeau’s Charade”—Belle & Chapeau

“Lullaby”—Garderobe & Plumette

“Cake in the Sun”—Lumiere & Stanley

“Like You Used To”—Adam & Garderobe

“Why The Beast Eats Like….That”—Chip & The Beast

“The Boy’s Hand”—Chip & Adam

“The Pink Vest”—Garderobe & Cogsworth

“Draw”—Maurice & Adam

“They’ll Never Meet Again”—Plumette & Garderobe.

“Her Beautiful Maman”—Garderobe & Plumette, in the parents AU. Also: Lumiere & Frou-Frou. Woof.

“have Belle and Adam watch batb 2017?” sure.

“I would love to see their reaction to singing in the rain! It’s my all time favorite movies!! ❤️❤️" 🌧🌧🌧🌧SAME 🌧🌧🌧🌧

“consider the coconut” MOANA CRACK.

“Plumiere goes to Paris?” Prequel fic! [oh là là]

“thy crackest crack of all - batb but adam/belle and lumiere/plumette swap places” lumiere turns into a dragon

“so. um. amnesiac adam?“ FUCK. FUCK.FUCK.

”Mary Poppins would be practically perfect in every way!” Feed the fucking birds

“I should have told you a long time ago.” Plumette wakes up, after their first night together. Fits into the “Lit by the Sun” story.

“This is why we can’t have nice things/you don’t see me”—right after the curse, Plumiere cope with their new forms. Angst?

“Prove It/You’re Drunk.” Lumiere had….a night of it. Poor Cogsworth, the Continuing Saga

“great comet” fic: the candle in the mirror

“I’ve been waiting a long time.” finally a happy!cogsworth fic. Tic toc.

“Batb and Frozen crossover pls“—it’s garbage

The whole palace body swaps. here

“What happens when Lumiere’s family wakes up and realizes they have a son at the palace?” well SHIT ! there’s a prompt

“Chapeau having to relearn and figure out how to play the violin once he’s turned into a coatrack.” Shh.

a cuisinier fic! this fandom doesn’t deserve him

“Batb and Robin Hood crossover!!!!!” fuck

“how about the castle residents plays a giant game of live clue.” Adam would like to register another complaint

Lit by the Stars. Plumette and Lumiere meet for the first time.

“belle catches a cold?” i’m allergic to fluff

“how about amnesiac belle this time?” FUCK

w o w this one’s about plumette & belle sharing plague stories

“Can you do where Lumiere and Plumette babysit Chip while Mrs. Potts is working” cute? ??

Wedding Cake: it’s huge

“lightly read fanfiction.” RIGHT?!

“You should let them watch the classic movie Beauty and the Beast” here

“ plumette x lumière modern spies AU” here.

“cogsworth angst” YOU GOT IT dude

“Hi, could you do some fluff and angst headcanons for Madame de Garderobe and Cadenza please xx” the honeymooners

“Shalalalalala my oh my, looks like the boy’s too shy, ain’t gonna kiss the girl” has lumiere ever been shy in his life ?

“Would you care to write a drabble of the castle redoing Mrs. and Mr. Potts’s wedding because Chip found his mother’s wedding dress and was bummed that he missed it?“ oh hey unrelated: i never dated a christmas ornament

“imagine plumiere first met AFTER they were turned into objects” um: FUCK YES.

“Batb characters in the titanic” too soon, people. too soon.

“Plumiere prompt: A whole new world! new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no. Or where to go. Or say we’re only dreaming.” ok

“a touring theatre group comes to perform at the castle” this is more like a headcanon but it’s long as fuck so it ended up here

“cogsworth discovers he can fly” this is so wrong, this is so right

“Card Tricks”—Lumiere & Chip

“Coffee & Tea”—Lefou & Mrs. Potts

“Lion’s Mane”—Cuisiner & Plumette & Adam

“the characters read some of your fics and their reactions” o fuck. crack.

“Ok, but what about someone slipping Lumiere a love potion meant for Plumette??” kisses

Plumette stargazes; Lumiere dates someone else. Veronique

“ding dong we need more cogsworth- can we have something with him and mrs. potts bonding over all of their dumb kids” ding dong yes yes yes we do!

the villagers get cursed. a trash fic!!!![[[[ongoing]]]

Seating Arrangementsare! important! here.

“cogsworth sharing plumette’s first dance with her at her wedding, and…” I don’t dance.

poly garderenza/belle. i love this bullshit. i ship this

“Bonjour you wrote a fic about Luimere taking care of Plumette when she’s sick, can you write one about Plumette taking care of Lumiere? 💛💛” cough!

The First Untethered Hot Air Balloon Flight: oh, fuck.

garderenza content FEELS

“amnesiac belle?” COMPLETED, BITCHES. fucking ga w w d

“Can we have cogsworth headcanons?? Pretty please mon ami??” Dulce et decorum est.

“Eclipse”—Lumiere & Chip

what if the servants came awake again, in modern days? Here

‘do you remember when we were human?’ Plumiere shit.

A history lesson w/Cogs and Lums. Beware the dust. Album.

GARDERENZA HIGH SCHOOL AU !!!

“Woof”— Belle & Frou-Frou

“Fireworks”—Adam & Plumette

“Amnesiac Mrs. Potts?” Eh.

“a midsummer night’s dream au?” welcome to CRACK CITY [x]

“Plumette has a tragic, existential moment.” Pouf-pouf.

“a touring theatre group comes to perform at the castle. like some kind of magic, they can perform shows that don’t even exist yet” [x]

“I would love if you wrote when Plumette and Lumiere came up with Be Our Guest” BE! OUR! GUEST

“The castle adopts a pet? but not like a cat or anything, like they get a pet komodo dragon or something” welcome to the zoo

garderenza’s glory [x]

“Flicker In, Flicker Out.” The curse takes its toll.

“Who would be into divination? the Supernatural? Spooky Shit™?” HEY THERE DEMONS, IT’S YA BOI.

“If each of the servants could write a book, what would they be about?” The Villeneuve Catalog of Literature, fresh off the presses. [x]

“Cogsworth + Lumiere switch personalities?” i fuckin love a good crack prompt. showgirls!

“Socks”—Pere Robert & Mrs. Potts

adam and belle meet as tiny kids

COLLEGE FACULTY AU FIC

sad maurice fic: :)))))))))

“What do the servants do when they can’t sleep?” Shhhh.

Chip being in town when the curse strikes, here [ongoing!]

Belle gets used to the staff being, well.….human again. “New.”

“Have you ever done a role-swap where Belle was the princess and Adam was the boy from the village?“ CHIP. DON’T FUCK WITH THE TIME TRAVEL. Here.

The useless energy of haunted things. “Freaks of Furniture.” Thanks, JSTOR.

@batbobsession collab w/me called “One Moment”—their part is here, my part is there. The servants and the staff take a minute, right before the battle, to face what they’ve become.

“spooky prompt: What If the castle was haunted the year after belle breaks the spell…sadder prompt: What If the ghost was Adams mom…Worse prompt: or his father” THIS IS NOT THE FUN GHOST-HUNTING I ASKED FOR.

“Everyone says that Adam was under the spell ages, so what if the spell went on for 300+ years or whatever, and a woman hiking through the woods kind of went through what Maurice did with the tree being knocked over…” Fucking!!!! Granola bars!!!!!!!!!!!![x] [Ongoing.]

How desperate I became. To erase. To unmake my mouth, my pulse. / To unlive. “The Writing-Desk.”

“So Very Different”—Cuisinier & Garderobe

“how would the staff and Belle and Adam react to some little kids from the village showing up trick-or-treating?“ Something like this, I imagine.

“Amnesiac Cadenza?” i do fucking love an amnesia ask

“During the curse, Adam begins to see ghostly apparitions of the servants’ human forms.” Dead men walking.

“Spooky prompt: A haunted house in Villeneuve.” i just want to talk to the demons!

“These Two Need More Love”—Chapeau & Cuisinier

“A piece inspired by the song, “A Shoulder to Cry On,” aka, ‘80S MUSIC FICS

“Adam, Belle + staff go to pick out/chop down their own Christmas tree……” Yule fic by me + other people! ho ho ho.

way down in hadestown

The fandom-spanning fic, involving Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who, and Tulio and Miguel.

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said.” Evermore. Thanks Ray Bradbury.

“idk how she got there but Garderobe rules the world.” ❤️

“Oh! How about a story or headcannons of Shane and Ryan doing a Buzzfeed Unsolved Video at the enchanted castle in BatB?” [wheeze] (a FAVE)

“Words”—Garderobe & LeFou.

“what if someone confused the servants with the royals, cuz they dress better than adam and belle?” This happens regularly.

“Pere Robert somehow comes across a Time Turner” ⏳tick-tock⌛️

“Crackfic prompt: Belle is messing around with magic books (AGAIN) and somehow summons dinosaurs.” that’s , uh, that’s chaos theory

plumiere SNUGGLING FOR WARMTH TROPE????

“The BATB characters stumble into The Great Comet” EVERYBODY RAISE A GLASS

“So I’m reading the Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater…..” Here.

“Please give me more singing hair brush!” the fucking hairbrush. Here.

“Please can I have a bunch of adorable hcs where Garderenza are prepping Bassette for their first concert with her singing in it too” that is a hairbrush

arrrrGGHHHH, mateys, that thar be a magical pirates fic, shiver me timbers

“lumiere gets a sunburn” ouCh

“for adelle: maybe the Official Proposal?” Here.

“ what if. an amnesia fic. where they. ALL. Got. A m n e s I a“ —MY BRAND~

“Headcanons for Belle and Adam being the world’s greatest grandparents?” also known as “be a bear, grandpa!”

“Garderenza prompt: ‘You saved my life!’” oh how divine

belle keeps playing with magic and getting everybody fucked

this collab fic with @theteaisaddictive is done! “agathe gets amnesia”

“Whisky and Red Wine”—Lumiere and Belle have a night in.

“AU idea: As belle is leaving the second time, something stops her and she turns and whispers ‘I love you’ before running off.” Can you say “two idiots”?

“ have you ever done any asks about what you think maurice/belle’s mum’s life was like before they had belle???” I AM ALWAYS HERE FOR THE MAURICE SAD!FICS [x]

“something sweet with adam and the plumiere child.” sweet as stolen breakfasts.

“Belle messing with magic again finds one that puts the universe into reverse” this one is straight crack i hope you like it

chip is the middle man for some major lumiworth action

“A traveller stops by for directions […] by coincidence, he’s one of Belle’s *very favorite* authors.” Wow I wonder if the world’s biggest book nerd is going to handle this in a responsible manner [x]

“a man attending a ball at the palace spots plumette, and falls in love with her beauty. she receives an anonymous present of heart-shaped chocolates on her bedside the next day, and assuming they are a present from her dear lover, eats them without a thought. moments later…..” Not exactly this trope but uhhhh it’s a love potion fic babyyyyyyy

#PLEASE REBLOG THIS POST #beauty and the beast #batb #batb 2017 #it's shorter than the other rlly long one #but also uhhhhh h u h looks like i wrote 2 many fics #ooOOps #fire hands candle hands trashdelabra stans #its lumiereswig b i t c h

52 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 6 years

Text

FIC: Stuff of Legends

Summary: Stretch wants to hit up the thrift stores, but if anyone sings Macklemore, Jeff is going home. Seriously.

Notes: I swear, I am getting back to the point. Kind of. Does this series actually have a point, I’m asking for a friend.

Also on AO3 (whoops, fixed it.)

By Any Other Name masterlist

~~*~~

u home?

Jeff paused his show on Netflix and looked at the text curiously. Thomas had closed the store down for the day for renovations, since no one wanted to shop at a book store with hammers banging. An extra day off was bad for his paycheck but good for his stress, and Jeff hadn’t planned on anything more strenuous than taking advantage of the larger television in the living room.

Yeah, he replied. He had no idea what Stretch had planned, but it was bound to be more interesting.

great am on your porch buzz me up

Yep, looked like his Wednesday was about to get more interesting. He stood and stretched before wandering over to hit the buzzer, and opened the door to watch Stretch mosey up the stairs. “Couldn’t you just teleport in?” Jeff asked curiously.

Stretch shook his head. It must’ve been chilly out because he had the hood pulled up on his sweatshirt. With his hands in his pockets and his hood up, he could’ve been mistaken for any student, until you saw the boney knees poking out from the holes in his jeans. “can’t teleport where i haven’t been. see, it has to do with…” he stopped and gave Jeff a narrow look. “what did you say your degree is in?”

“Sociology,” he admitted

Stretch grimaced. “Well, unless you want to add on a minor in physics, let’s just stick with ‘because magic’, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Jeff grinned, “come on in.”

All his roommates were at their own jobs but at least the place was reasonable clean, with only a scattering of this morning’s dishes on the coffee table. The sofa was sagging in the middle and had been scrounged from the side of the road and the only thing on the walls were speakers. The living room wasn’t exactly personalized.

Stretch only glanced around curiously. “nice place.”

“It’s the size of a postage stamp and smells like 4 guys live here,” Jeff said wryly, “but it’s home. What brings you over to this side of town?”

Stretch stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and rocked on his heels. “wanted to see if you wanted to come thrifting with me.”

“Thrifting,” Jeff repeated, “Like thrift stores?

Stretch grinned. “yeah, i love it. we used to go down to the garbage dump back home and find stuff. this is sorta like that only less wet and it mostly smells better. mostly.”

“Okay, but if you start singing Macklemore at any point, I'm going home.

Stretch laughed, “deal.”

“Let me grab my shoes,” Jeff said, almost embarrassed at how eager he was. Most of his friends from college had moved away after graduation, either finding better jobs or moving back in with their parents. Jeff hadn’t had either option and he didn’t mind his roommates, but all of them were more like acquaintances he shared a living space with, not friends. Funny to think that Stretch had been hopeful to have him for a friend, when he had needed one just as much. Besides, Stretch was fun and hilarious and generous and…eh, fuck it, he sounded like he had a crush, but it wasn’t like that, not even a little.

He liked the guy and fuck anyone who had a problem with it.

It took Jeff longer than he meant, one of his shoes had nearly been consumed by the space under his bed. By the time he came back out, he stopped in surprise to see Stretch was backed into the wall by the door, his eye lights wide. By his feet was Ella, his roommate’s cat. She was only sitting there, licking at one paw but Stretch was staring at her warily. The cat looked up at him and meowed, and he actually flickered, like he’d nearly teleported the hell out.

Jeff didn’t have a clue what that was about, but he could get the long version later, right now all he knew was his friend was not cool with this. “Hey, hold on.” Jeff picked up the cat and shut her into his roommate’s room.

Stretch relaxed the moment the door closed, a trickle of sweat running down his skull. “thanks…uh… sorry i don’t like temmies. cats,” he corrected, “i don’t like cats.”

“No problem,” Jeff said, lightly. Stretch seemed embarrassed, so maybe it would be better to ask later. “Let’s head out, you can catch a smoke outside.”

“yeah, thanks,” Stretch nodded and followed Jeff out the door, waiting while he locked it. “we can walk to the thrift store if you don’t mind. it’s close enough that taking the bus would probably be slower.”

“You’re willing to walk?” Jeff teased.

“we are on a quest!” Stretch said loftily. “sacrifices must be made. besides, we can hit up someplace for coffee on the way.” He lit a cigarette the moment they stepped outside, exhaling a relieved cloud of smoke. “c’mon, galahad, let’s find some grails and shit.”

They walked in silence for a while and Jeff waited until Stretch finished his cigarette before he asked, “So are we looking for anything specific?”

Stretch shrugged. “a few things. sometimes i use some odd stuff for experiments. i like to keep my eyes peeled for any of the toys the edgelord collects, too.”

“Action figures.”

“yeah, those. plus, anything else fun for him. like clothes.”

“Clothes?” Jeff asked skeptically. “Edge doesn’t strike me as a thrift store sort of guy.” He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out his t-shirts were custom-made.

“depends on what you find. one time, i found this sweater with a huge clown on it, right? looked like it had been knitted by a serial killer.”

“He wore that?” Jeff said, disbelieving.

“fuck, no!” Stretch laughed. “he threatened to burn it, said it would be in the best interest of humanity to kill it before it tormented anyone else. anyway, i told him if he wouldn’t wear it, i would, so i wore nothing but that for two days.” He sighed happily, lost in memory. “it didn’t survive the second night.”

They passed a coffee shop on the way, and Stretch bought them both drinks. Jeff didn’t bother to protest; he’d tried before and Stretch either became selectively deaf or would talk louder until he was shouting over Jeff’s attempts, so Jeff stuck with his normal form of revenge and left a great tip. Baristas probably loved them.

Stretch fidgeted with his cup, stirring the massive dollop of whipped cream into his frappuccino as they walked. There were plenty of other people out walking, college students and joggers, the occasional person with their dog. They seemed to either be carefully ignoring them, like a celebrity, or sparing them only the occasional stare. They weren’t far from the college and Monsters were common enough on campus. Dogs always seemed pleased to meet Stretch no matter what their Human masters thought, and Jeff wondered guilty if it was for his personality or his bone structure. To his amusement, Stretch had dog treats with him and, once permission was granted, was always happy to offer one to his canine admirers.

He exchanged twitter handles with three different dog owners before they made it to the thrift store.

They hovered outside, finishing their drinks. “You really like dogs, huh?”

Stretch smiled wryly, “they like me, for sure. it’s probably all the excitement of finding a walking, talking version of their favorite snack.”

“But not cats?” Jeff asked, cautiously.

“not cats,” he agreed with a wince. He shifted on his feet awkwardly, tossing his empty cup into the trash can. “hey, listen, you keep hanging out in new new home, you might run into the temmies. they usually keep to themselves, but they’re okay in this universe. i usually remember but i didn’t know you had a cat, it took me off guard.”

“You guys have said that before, this universe.”

Stretch scratched at the back of his skull. “um, yeah, it’s a long story.”

“does involve a long physics lecture?” Jeff asked, swallowing down the last of his own coffee.

“maybe?” Stretch tried. Jeff looked at him. “probably not,” he admitted

“Okay, I’m letting you off the hook this time but you’re going to explain someday.

“i promise,” Stretch said, low.

The words were more solemn than he was used to hearing from Stretch and it made him remember what Antwan had said, the first time they’d had dinner together. That he shouldn’t break a promise that he made to Stretch. Good to know at least that he was serious about telling him.

The first thing he did when they walked into the thrift store was persuade Stretch that he couldn’t ride in the cart. “You’ll get us kicked out before we can even look at the goods,” Jeff warned.

Stretch raised a brow bone at him. “are we speaking from experience?”

“I admit nothing.”

Even without a free ride, Jeff had to admit, it was fun to poke through the shelves and piles of this and that, and soon their cart was piled with a mishmash of bizarreness.

A pen holder that had a pair of monkeys fighting on it that had ‘karate punch!’ on the side, a velociraptor coffee mug where the handle was the dinosaur’s tongue, a picture frame that was pink with glittery hearts that Jeff suspected had once belonged in a teenage girls bedroom from the 80s that Stretch declared would be perfect for their wedding photo. He also had three toasters that were in various stages of broken and Jeff wasn’t sure to be excited or wary to see what became of those.

“someday, i’ll find another clown sweater,” Stretch mourned, “that was some of the best sex of my life. but this will do for now!” He held up a crisply ironed button up shirt that was cheerily emblazoned with pictures of bacon, coffee mugs, and pancakes dripping with syrup.

“It’s perfect,” Jeff assured him. He was fussing with his own haul, which included a book on the best mugshots of all time.

None of the clerks gave them more than a smile; probably they were used to Stretch coming in to rummage. When they went back outside, bags in hand, Edge was waiting in the parking lot, leaning against his car.

“babe, what are you doing here?” Stretch seemed startled, but not particularly upset.

“I bribe the clerks to let me know when you’re here so that I can be assured they’ve hidden the worst of their wares,” Edge said dryly. Stretch rolled his eye lights and Edge’s mouth twitched in a grin. “How do you think I know? You posted on your twitter.”

“oh, i did, didn’t i. i didn’t say which store,” Stretch said suspiciously.

“Process of elimination, you mentioned your partner in crime. What sort of atrocities did you find this time?” Edge reached for the bag and Stretch held it out of reach.

“nuh uh, you can’t look! you have to wait for the wedding.”

“Love, I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say if you got me a wedding present at the thrift store, you will be sleeping in the chicken coop.” It didn’t stop him from sliding an arm around Stretch and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

Jeff pointedly looked away. Yeah, he shipped it, but there was no need to be a creeper about it.

“don’t be such a killjoy,” Stretch snickered. He gave him a smacking kiss back and squirmed away. “but i did find you some of your toys that you can part out and rebuild.”

“At least you found something useful,” he slanted a glance at Jeff. “And you?”

“I found Antwan a throw pillow with Darth Vader on it that says ‘free throat hugs’,” Jeff admitted.

That earned him a faint grin, “So you both found something useful. Wonderful. Get in the car.”

Stretch scowled, “i’m not done, i want to hit up the thrift store over on baldwin.”

“And so we will. Would you rather take the bus or my car?”

He hesitated, and Jeff gave him a beseeching look because seriously, Edge had an awesome car.

“you don’t get to come in,” Stretch muttered. “you’re no fun. you say things are ‘distasteful’ and ‘atrocities to Monsters and Humans alike’.”

“And I will continue my pledge to destroy anything you bring home with clowns on it,” Edge assured him. He popped the trunk so that Jeff and Stretch could squeeze their bags in. “That said, on my honor, I will allow you two to continue your rampage unhindered. I’ll only drop you off, agreed?”

“deal,” Stretch decided.

Jeff scrambled into the backseat, “Onward, my king, in our noble steed! The grail awaits!”

Stretch laughed and even Edge grinned, though he shook his head.

“You’re more like Don Quixote and Sancho than Arthur and Lancelot,” Edge chuckled, climbing into the driver’s seat, “but you’ll do.”

“drive, rocinante,” Stretch commanded, “behave, and later i’ll give you a ride instead.”

“Giddyap,” Edge murmured and pulled out onto the main road. Jeff pretended not to hear him, grateful for the wind on his face and the presence of friends.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #underfell #underswap #by any other name #keelywolfe

34 notes · View notes

p-artsypants · 6 years

Text

No, You Go First (4)

What is this story anymore? I have no notes! It’s writing itself!

FF.net | Ao3

—

It was amazing how stubborn vikings were. Astounding, really.

It had been several weeks since Astrid’s accident in the ring, and yet the whole village seemed to forget that she was a great dragon warrior just prior to her incident.

Hiccup arrived at the forge one evening, after a full day of work, only to pick up his sketchbook. “Evening Gobber,” he greeted.

“Evening lad!” Gobber smiled with a keen look in his eye. Hiccup didn’t dwell on it and made his way to the back room.

But what awaited him there surprised him, to say the least. “Astrid?”

Indeed, the young woman was sitting at his desk, reading a book. Nothing of his, thankfully. Her arm was still in the sling and her hair was tied up sloppily, since she only had one arm to use.

She looked at him, bags under her eyes and skin pale. “Oh, Hiccup. I didn’t think you worked today. I’ll get out of your way.”

“No no,” he waved her off. “You’re fine, I’m uh, I’m just grabbing this.” He took his sketchbook and put it under his arm. “Uh…why are you here?”

“I’m hiding.” She said softly. “My mom has me up everyday doing household chores. She keeps saying that I’ll recover just fine, and I’ll kill the next dragon…but like, she’s also trying to train me to be a housewife.”

Hiccup hugged the sketchbook to his chest. He still wasn’t used to this version of Astrid, the side of her that had taken to speaking openly with him, despite his reputation.

“Sorry for dumping all that on you.” She added with a shrug.

“Hey, it’s cool. I’m used to people throwing garbage at me.” He grinned.

She returned it before it fell away. “But you’ve been off the hook since the eel thing.”

“Eh…kind of. Instead of outright ‘get off my lawn, pipsqueak!’” he yelled, “It’s more like, ‘careful, Hiccup. Don’t push your luck.’”

“I don’t follow.”

“People are just being passive aggressive with me now, instead of outright nasty.”

“Which would you rather have?”

He shrugged. “Neither, that’s why I…” hang out with Toothless, was what he was going to say. “That’s why I hide.”

She hummed. “Since they’ve gotten passive aggressive with you, they’ve gotten nasty with me.”

“Oh Astrid…”

“I try to buy cloth and thread for my sewing lessons and Haggard goes, ‘this cloth is only for good girls that kill dragons, you get the scraps’. And when I try to buy food for my cooking lessons, same thing, ‘You get yesterdays bread. I don’t sell my apples to failures. Only real vikings deserve my potatoes.’ If my arm wasn’t in a sling, I’d…I’d…” And just like that, she lost all her fire power. “My dad won’t even talk to me anymore.”

Hiccup frowned. “That sucks balls, Astrid.”

She managed to smirk. “Well, I’m glad we agree. What did you do? When you were...at the bottom?”

“Well, as the chief’s son, shop keepers were never really rude to me...because they never knew if I was buying for me or for dad. But they weren’t always friendly. I tried humor, tried turning my reputation from ‘Hiccup the complete screw up’ to ‘oh there’s Hiccup being silly again...’” he sighed. “It didn’t work. Honestly...I just took it. I know that’s the worst advice ever but...it’s all I got.”

She groaned. “Well, thanks anyway.”

“And you’re not at the bottom.” He added. “Before this eel thing, before my dad gave me a job...I had no one. Sure, dad tried to be there for me, but unless it had to do with killing dragons, he couldn’t care less. Gobber was pretty okay, but I think he tuned me out most of the time...and even when he tried to make me feel better, he only ended up making me feel worse. And he always tried to discourage me from my inventions.”

“I can see why...” Astrid muttered.

“But...then you came along. You were someone I could bounce ideas off of, someone who I could just...talk to, you know?”

She nodded, meeting his eyes.

“So, I’m just trying to say...even if you feel like you’re at the bottom, you still have me. I think you’re amazing.” He blushed at his confession, but smiled regardless.

She returned it. “Thanks Hiccup. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Hiccup held his breath as a dangerous thought came to his mind. He had already shared Toothless with his father, and therefore, the most powerful, ferocious, dragon-hating person on Berk. But now, because of Astrid’s incapacity, did she hate them as well? Well, he might as well find out now. “Hey, so what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. I was planning on hiding back here.”

“Want to hide with me instead?” He smiled uneasily.

—

Astrid followed Hiccup through the woods, off by Raven Point, she noted. Passed her old training grounds where the trees bore the wrath of her axe. Passed the flat rock where she and her father used to go camping. Finally, they came to a cove, nestled in the quiet sanctity of the forest.

“This is my sanctuary.” He began, halting in movement. “My dad comes here sometimes, but I really only share it with one other, and now I will share it with you.”

This puzzled her, because as far as she knew, he didn’t have any friends. “Who?”

“Do you have any weapons on you?”

“What?”

“Any weapons? Because you’ll have to leave them out here.”

“Uh, yeah, I have my knife?” She took it from her belt and handed it to him. He placed it on a boulder for safe keeping.

“Okay, just…don’t freak out, okay?”

“No promises…”

Together they descended into the cool air of the cove. Hiccup noticed that the fire pit in the little shack was empty, and by extension, his father was absent.

“This is…nice.” Said Astrid with a peaceful sigh.

“Oh…just wait.” A nervous tremor shook his voice, as he scanned the area. “Tooooothless…” He sang.

A pair of rabbit like ears popped up from behind a boulder by the water. Then suddenly, a large black dragon was bounding towards them.

Astrid shrieked.

Toothless skidded to a halt, tilting his head.

“No no no, it’s okay!” Hiccup assured, reaching out for both of his friends.

“Hiccup! What!?” She pointed a finger at the dragon.

Toothless slunk closer, his nostrils pulsing.

“This is Toothless…he’s my friend.”

“You…you have—ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?” Her voice echoed in the cave. “I can’t believe this. You really are a dragon sympathizer! And all this time…those tricks! Those were all from him, weren’t they!?”

Toothless recoiled slightly, his pupils wide.

“Astrid, would you listen to me?” He said patiently.

Seeing that the dragon was not currently a threat, she simply huffed and rested her good hand on her hip. “Fine.”

Toothless lowered himself to be scratched, and purred contently.

“So…do you remember that night that I said I shot down the Nightfury?”

“Yeah?”

He gestured to Toothless.

Realization dawned on her as she gasped. “You mean that’s a…you really did?”

“Why does no one believe me?” He said, mostly to himself. “Yeah, and…he was injured. I saw him in pain and just…I couldn’t kill him. So I let him go. He couldn’t fly, so I just took up taking care of him…and now he’s my best friend.”

Toothless wiggled in excitement over the declaration.

“Everything we know about dragons is wrong. They’re kind, loyal, and intelligent creatures. Toothless showed me. And, I tried to tell you…in a way.”

“You…did…” She agreed, hesitantly. “You said they were capable of other feelings, but I…I didn’t imagine this.” She gestured to the dragon who had rolled over on his back.

“Neither did I. Not until him.”

“Wait,” she began, “you said your dad comes down here sometimes?”

“Yeah…”

“So…he’s okay with this?”

“Yeah…he wasn’t in the beginning. But I told him I couldn’t kill Toothless, and that’s what got me out of dragon training. And once I came up with the eel thing, he was…willing to let me keep Toothless in my life. He said I was safer with him around even. You know, from other tribes and stuff.”

“I can see that.” Astrid amended. Slowly, she reached out her good hand and laid it on Toothless’ snout. The dragon vibrated in excitement.

“So, you want to go for a ride?”

“What?”

“You, me, Toothless, a sunset cruise through the clouds?”

“I…” Was she seriously considering this? Hiccup, who had been the weird, near outcast of the village, and a Nightfury, the most horrible dragon she’d ever heard of. And yet, he gazed at her with warm, friendly eyes, and waited patiently. “Yeah. That sounds…awesome.”

He climb up on the saddle and offered a hand down to her. Carefully, she climbed on behind him, wrapping her good arm around his waist.

“Hang on tight.”

She tightened her hold and nodded against him.

“Alright Toothless, let’s take this leisurely, shall we?”

Astrid held her breath as the dragon crouched, his wings unfurling at his sides, and then leapt, the land falling away rapidly, and her stomach left behind.

She was shouting, “Oh gods! Oh!” And her fingers dug into his chest.

“It’s okay!” He assured, his hand resting on top of hers. “Are you looking?”

“Is it safe!?” She screamed back.

“Yes!” He laughed. “Even if you fall, Toothless will catch you. Don’t worry!”

Carefully, Astrid peeled her eyes open and looked around, taking in the world around her. Clouds surrounded them, like sailing on a ocean of fluff. She raked her hands through the billowing whiteness, only for it to dissolve around her fingertips.

“Clouds are made of water…” she said aloud. “I had no idea.”

“It threw me for a loop the first time too.” He agreed, reaching his own hand out.

“I would have spent my whole life thinking they felt like cotton.” She laughed. “We’re the only ones who know this.”

“Kind of fun, huh?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I took my dad up here too, during the afternoon.”

“Really? Stoick the Vast on the back of a dragon?”

“Crazy, I know. It took him a couple of weeks to consider it, but once he was ready, we took a lap around the island. Maybe an hour’s flight at most. He liked seeing the village from above, said it made him feel like a true guardian of Berk.”

“You flew over the village during the day? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“We were far enough away that no one would be able to see us on Toothless’ back. Who knows, they might have thought he was a bird instead.”

Toothless warbled, not appreciating the insinuation.

Hiccup laughed lightly and urged Toothless higher passed the clouds. Up where the air was clear, and the stars twinkled against the inky sky. Where streaks of color rippled in the wind, dazzling greens and vibrant blues.

“Wow…” Astrid whispered in his ear. She hugged him a little tighter, and rested her chin on his shoulder. “This is amazing…”

“Yeah…” He whispered back, more at her touch than at the sky.

She shivered a little.

“Are you cold?”

“A little…”

“Do you want to go back?”

“No way!” She protested. “I’ll just scoot closer.” And she nuzzled against him.

Hiccup couldn’t keep the ecstatic grin off his face.

For a while, they flew in silence, the wind speaking volumes for them. After a while, Hiccup turned back towards home, and they saw the flickering lights that decorated their home.

“Gorgeous…” She said again. “If you ever want to bring me up here again…” She began, letting the suggestion hang in the air.

“Whenever you want, just say the word.” He insisted.

“Thank you, Hiccup. You…you’re the best.” She rested her forehead on his shoulder to hide her blush. What was this? She couldn’t be developing a crush on him, could she?

Would that be so bad? Sure, he wasn’t exactly manly by most definitions, but he was always kind to her and did his best to make her feel better. And despite her failure in the ring, he still treated her as an equal. Maybe it was because he understood, or maybe he was happy she hadn’t killed the Nightmare.

They looped around the island again, darkness encroaching on all sides as the sunset faded and the torches from the village hid behind trees.

“Hiccup?” She asked, honestly. “Would you still have been my friend if I had killed the Nightmare?”

What a loaded question. He thought for a moment and questioned her right back, “would you still have been my friend if you were a raging success? Would you have still continued talking to me afterwards?”

“I…I hope so. It wasn’t my failure that brought us together in the first place.”

“True,” he agreed. “It’s just…food for thought.”

“I like you Hiccup, eels or no eels. Failure or not…you just get me, you know?”

Hiccup was lucky that it was so dark out, or else she’d easily see how red his face had become. “I think you get me, too.”

“You’re my best friend, Hiccup.” She declared. “Hope you can live with that.”

“I’m your…? Really?” He turned to glance at her.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“No, not really. I didn’t think I could be anyone’s best friend.”

“Yeah, well, tough beans.”

He laughed, his shoulders jostling. “Okay okay…thanks Astrid. Unfortunately, Toothless has already fulfilled the role as my best friend…but you’re a close second.”

“Beaten by a dragon,” she scoffed, shaking her head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He muttered back.

The punch that nearly knocked him off of Toothless was well deserved, to say the least.

Finally, they landed back in the cove. The moon was just a sliver and reflected in the bay.

The duo were surprised by the fire going in the little shack as Stoick reclined in his chair. Toothless bounded over to him, begging for scratches.

“There you are, you over grown lizard!” Stoick greeted happily, complying with his pleas.

“Oh, hey dad.”

“When you didn’t come home after work, I figured you were with Toothless…I didn’t expect Astrid to be here too.”

Astrid hunched her shoulders, folding her good arm over the injured one. “Hello chief.”

“Astrid,” he greeted with a nod. “What’s wrong lass? You look guilty.”

“I…” She glanced to Hiccup, seeing him gesture her on. “I just assumed…everyone else in the village hasn’t really been…fond of me lately.”

“Ah.” Stoick nodded. “I see. Still sore about the match, ah?”

“Yeah.”

He stood, “well, as Chief, I try to keep a totally unbiased opinion about everyone in the tribe, no matter their faults or failures.” He stood in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “And in my totally unbiased opinion, you are a viking. You fought bravely, even without a weapon.”

“That’s what I said!” Hiccup chirped.

“And he’s right,” Stoick continued. “It’ll sting for a while, but we vikings are a proud, stubborn people. Soon enough, someone else will make a mistake and everyone will be mad at that instead.”

“I don’t like that idea…”

“Look, the chief and his son are on your side. Just worry about healing, and everything will be fine.”

Astrid wiped her cheeks quickly, hiding that she had become emotionally undone by their kindness.

“Hiccup, why don’t you walk her home?”

“Ah, yeah, I can—sure!” He laughed nervously. “After you, m’lady.”

Once they had departed from the cove and headed into the woods, Hiccup leaned a little closer and spoke softly. “Are you up for a little teenage rebellion?”

Her cheeks lit up at the insinuation. “What do you have in mind?”

—

They hurried through the dark, hand in hand as nerves frayed and heartbeats pulsed. They shouldn’t be doing this. If they were caught, there would be steep consequences.

“Are you sure about this?” Astrid asked with a giggle. Even in her anxiety, she was thrilled.

“Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun.” He urged. “But we have to be quiet.”

The Kill Ring was unguarded, as the watchmen circled the village every hour. The cage on top was open as well, allowing villagers to spare down there as they wanted between training.

“Alright, they’re heading up towards the Great Hall, we probably only have a half an hour before they come back around.” He met her eyes. “Ready?”

“You’re insane, but yes.”

Quietly, the duo made their way over to the entrance and slipped inside.

“Would you like to do the honors first?”

“Okay…which one should I pick?”

“Totally up to you.”

Astrid nodded once and made her way over to the lever on the far side of the ring. With a tug, the ballasts raised and the doors opened. The Nadder, who had up until that moment been sleeping, chirped curiously and peeked out.

“That’s it…that’s a good girl.” Astrid said soothingly.

The Nadder recognized her from training and squawked.

Astrid hushed her softly. “It’s okay…it’s okay…” She spread her arms so the dragon could see she was unarmed.

The Nadder curiously sniffed her, apprehensively waiting to be struck, but it never happened.

“Okay,” said Hiccup. “Now reach your hand out, and turn your head away.”

She complied, and just stood there rigidly.

Ever so gently, the Nadder touched her nose to her hand and exhaled a warm, smokey breath.

Astrid relaxed, and looked up to the dragon with fondness. “Hi there,” she whispered. Then with slow moments, she scratched the dragon under her chin and watched as she fell into a puddle of rumbling goo.

“That’s a good girl,” Astrid cooed.

Next, Hiccup opened the cage for the Gronkle, and likewise, it blearily stumbled out of it’s cage. Hiccup approached it carefully, hands outstretched. “It’s okay…” From behind, he gave it a little push. “Go on, you’re free.”

The fat dragon wriggled in happiness as her pupils dilated. She gave Hiccup a little nudge and then took off, buzzing off into the woods.

The Nadder watched as she left and chirped happily.

“You can go too,” Astrid urged. “Get somewhere safe.”

But the Nadder stayed by her side, just watching with anticipation.

Hiccup opened the cage to the Zippleback and the Terror, and both hesitated before taking off into the woods as well.

“Alright, one left,” Hiccup nodded. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Astrid frowned, her hand hovering over the door. “Do you think he’ll remember me?”

“He might…but I’ll be here, and so will the Nadder. She won’t let him hurt you.”

Nodding once, she agreed and pulled the lever.

After all the ruckus from the other dragons, the Monstrous Nightmare was very much awake. But he did not burst forth in flames and smoke. Instead, he stomped out, and scanned the ring in the faint light of the stars, his gaze falling on Astrid.

He hissed, coming closer dangerously, but Astrid stood ramrod straight, not to be frightened. He sniffed her, sensing her fear, but did not attack. Finally, he nudged against her bum arm and took off into the night.

“Wow…”

“Yeah…crazy…”

Astrid patted the Nadder fondly. “You should go too girl, it’s not safe for you here.”

The Nadder squawked in protest.

“I know we just met, but I don’t want you to get hurt anymore. There’s a nice Nightfury in the woods you could be friends with, if you want.” She knew the dragon probably couldn’t understand her, but she said it anyway.

Finally, the dragon took the hint and flapped off, leaving a heavy feeling on Astrid’s heart. “Would have been nice, having a dragon like you.”

Hiccup smiled at her, “well, Toothless will just have to take you in.”

They began to depart from the ring, but a light by the entrance stopped them.

“The guard!” Hiccup whispered, before grabbing her arm. Quickly and quietly, he hurried over to one of the cages and hid, pressing her between himself and the wall.

“Hiccup…” she tried to wiggle free.

“Shhh…” He hushed quietly, peering between the crack in the door.

“Oh gods…they’re all gone?”

“Looks like it. I bet it was a prank by those Thornston Twins.”

“Yeah…sounds like something they’d do.”

Hiccup held his breath as they came closer, their light reaching into the cages. He pressed himself closer, and looked to Astrid in apology. Their noses were almost touching.

“We’d better tell the chief.”

“Alright…he’s not going to happy about this…”

Hiccup kept her pressed against the wall until the light of the fire faded. Then he relaxed. “Okay, we need to scram.”

Astrid fisted his tunic in her hand and spun him to slam against the wall.

“Ow! Why would you do that!?”

“That’s for man-handling me!”

“Sorry I just—“

She cut him off by swooping in and pressing a rough kiss to his lips. “And that…is for everything else.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hiccup.” She winked before running out of the arena.

Oh gods, what had he gotten himself into now?

#how to train your dragon #httyd #fanfiction #hiccstrid #no you go first #hiccup #astrid #toothless #romantic flight

29 notes · View notes

blah-blah-stranger-things · 6 years

Text

The Monk (Chapter 1/2)

The Party plays D&D at the cabin, and the damn place is too small for Hopper not to overhear.

My first Stranger Things fic. Hope you enjoy! ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260926/chapters/32891049

Chapter 2

"Ok, nerds, prepare to be awestruck. This is what, 7d6 fire damage, one per level, plus - "

"First of all it's per caster level, you're multiclass. Second of all the spell is capped at 5d6, so even if - "

"That's such bullshit! So your girlfriend gets to incinerate everything in the room and I'm stuck taking potshots?"

"It's not bullshit, Mayfield, it's the rules. You're the one who insisted I help you pick out an ability set for a Zoomer, and that meant multiclassing. Lucas, a little help here?"

"Hell no. I'm recusing myself."

"Smart move, Stalker."

"Pah. Your glorious red mane is clouding his judgment. It's always better to min-max."

"...what the hell does it mean to min?"

"No - min-max. Not you, the word max. As in 'maximum.'"

"A min-max lecture coming from the bard..."

"Oooh, burn from Will the Wise!"

"7d6 fire damage?"

Hopper rubs his temples. The boys all laugh in response to El's quip, a helpful reminder as to why he's allowing all this in the first place. Socialization. It's good for her. If it's not safe for her to wander around town yet, at least she can enjoy herself with friends now and then. It's nice, he reminds himself. Worth a few hours of wanting to stab his eardrums through with a pen.

With anything, really, but the pen's handiest, and likely more effective than rolling up one of the case files in front of him and making a play for deafness-by-papercut. Callahan's handwriting is hard enough to parse without a litany of nerdspeak assaulting him from behind. Somehow this Dungeons & Dragons shit is even worse than the stereotypes had led him to believe. Jesus - when he was Wheeler's age he was fixated on a very different pair of Ds, that's for sure. Granted the thought of him thinking of El that way...

Hopper rubs his temples again.

Ok - the file. Thief only took items from the Valentine's display, so definitely a crime of opportunity. But in Callahan's interview notes from the -

"Woo, sneak attack! Multiclass that, asshole!"

"The guard goes down with a sickening groan. But when you move away you open yourself to an attack of opportunity from - "

Focus, Jim.

...right. Shopkeep said it happened after the doors were locked, and there was no sign that any of the locks had been tampered with, which suggests an inside -

"INSOLENT FOOLS! FACE THE WRATH OF ARIYBAR THE PROFANE! SOON, YOUR FLESH WILL ADORN MY HALLS AND YOUR ENTRAILS El stop looking at me like that, this is supposed to be, like, intimidating."

"Sorry. You're adorable."

Four dramatic groans.

- an inside job. Or else, uhh... what was he thinking about again? Right - or else the shopkeep is a dope or a liar. He skims the list of employees. Let's see - Carmichael, Hayes, Daniels... wasn't it somebody by the name of Daniels he locked up overnight just last week for -

"Pew pew! Pew pew!"

"Dustin that's not what Magic Missile sounds like."

"It could be."

"That's lasers. It's anachronistic."

"Oh so you're saying they didn't have sound effects in medieval times?"

"Anyway, while the bard and ranger are distracted by this fascinating conversation, Will you manage to get past the gnome to the door. Inside is a short hallway with a door at the end and a passageway off to - "

Hopper grinds his teeth. Ok. Maybe better to save the critical thinking for later. There's got to be some good old-fashioned paperwork around here somewhere. God knows Flo spends enough of her time berating him about it. He lights a cigarette, shuffles papers until lines requiring his signature manifest. Time off request for Powell - fine. Signed. Office supplies requests... let's see. Coffee's an office supply, right? Eh better safe than sorry. Oh, and he brought home all that extra tape for El around Christmas, after the, uh, mishap with the first round of present-wrapping. Is he out of staples? Not that he ever staples things, but they're fun to flick into the garbage can on slow days. Could probably use -

"Oh shit guys that's gotta be where the princess is. I have dibs when she decides to throw herself into the comforting arms of her rescuer."

"Dustin you're a halfling. If she throws herself into your arms you'll both fall over.

"Screw you."

"You open the door and there she is, golden hair shimmering in the sunlight pouring through the fortress window. Her room is tiny, with only a bed and a small wash basin, but even if it were enormous your eyes would be drawn straight to her. She's as beautiful as the rumors said, and though she looks nervous at first she soon greets you with a grateful smile."

Hopper closes his eyes and his forehead twitches. Office supplies. Think about office supplies.

"Fear not, m'lady! Your heroes have arrived to see you safely back to - "

"So, like, is this it? Campaign done? I know we get a reward back in town, but I kind of figured this Profane guy would have a treasure trove or something. He had that whole side business with the cursed amulets, he must have earned - "

"Hey, Zoomer, shut it. You're killing the mood."

"'Actually,' the princess interrupts, 'he did mention something to one of his lieutenants about a store room behind the bookcase in his study...'"

"Now we're talking. Lead the way, blondie."

Envelopes. Probably need some of those. Hopper snuffs out his cigarette in an ashtray.

"Cure light wounds, anybody?"

"Me please."

"Coming right up... 13 HP for the mage."

"Thanks Will."

"And I'll dispel the bookcase too, in case it's booby-trapped. Lucas, can you check for - "

"Already on it. Ohhhh, natural 20 ladies and gentlemen. Hold your applause, please."

"You make a mockery of the variety of traps both magical and mundane that guard what you soon confirm is a chamber filled with gold coins - more than you can possibly carry. They sparkle in the light from Dustin's glowing lute."

"I wink at the princess."

"Jeez Dustin."

"What? I didn't do the growl, that's called character development."

"Fine. She smiles shyly back at you, smoothing the folds of her elegant silver-patterned dress. Meanwhile - "

Hopper's hands slam down on the tabletop before he can stop them. "Ok," he says, with a tone so measured he considers it downright admirable, "that's it." He pushes himself up out of his chair and turns to see six startled faces looking up at him from the living room floor.

"...uh... what's it, exactly? Sir?" Dustin asks after a moment. "I wasn't going to... I mean - uh - I know there was some real sexual chemistry building there between me and the princess but we don't typically roleplay the... I'm going to maybe stop talking now anyway how's the paperwork going? Going good I bet, I bet you aced every page, sir, bet you really showed it who runs that office oh god I didn't stop did I."

Hopper blinks. "What - no. No, that's not what I - Jesus." He rubs his forehead. "I just have to say - this story makes no sense."

Four pairs of eyes glance nervously at Mike. El looks at Hopper, taken aback. "Dad!"

Wheeler himself narrows his eyes, and Hopper sees hints of the anger that exploded that night last October. "Excuse me?"

Hopper raises his hands defensively and addresses his daughter. "I'm just being honest. Friends don't lie, right? Look think of this as a learning opportunity," he says, turning his head back to Wheeler, "a chance to get better, right?"

Mike crosses his arms. "What, exactly, doesn't make sense about it?" he challenges in the way only angsty teenage boys can.

Hopper sighs. He really should just leave it.

He doesn't. "First of all, this whole fortress arrangement. The brilliant villain puts a half-dozen guards in his great hall but has nobody actually watching the princess's room? Not to mention his piles of gold? I mean speaking of gold - what is this guy's motive, anyway? Clearly he's a hoarder or something since this room is filled with cash but Jesus, if he's interested in padding his retirement fund why the hell didn't he try to ransom the girl back to her rich prick of a father? And the amulet side gig, for god's sake, if you're trying to make a mint selling trinkets why make them suck people's life force? That's not exactly a great long-term business strategy, when every product you sell screams 'I'm an evil asshole.'"

Lucas and Dustin share a mildly disturbed look. "...how much attention has he paying this whole time?" Lucas mutters.

Hopper ignores them. "And the princess - you said at the start the only reason she was out in the field instead of in her guarded ivory tower or whatever was because she was badly claustrophobic. You expect me to believe she's been kept in that, quote, 'tiny' room for a week and yet a few seconds after you open the door she's smiling and offering to show you around and playing footsie with the hobbit over there?"

"Actually, sir, technically I'm a halfling; Hobbits are specific to Tolkien's universe whereas halfling is a more generic - "

"I don't care," Hopper replies emphatically. "And I was going to just let it go, whatever, it's just a game and you're just a kid and bound to make a few mistakes now and then, except then you talked about her dress, and that was a step too far. The elegant silver embroidery shining in the light from mini-Dylan's glow-in-the-dark axe."

"Yeah, it's not technically glow-in-the-dark, it's imbued with a Light spell, which takes is luminescence from - " Will elbows Dustin and the boy stops talking.

Will's a good kid.

"One of the key pieces of evidence," Hopper resumes, circling around the back of Wheeler's little board set-up like he does with perps in the interrogation room, "that pointed your little band of misfits to Eeriebear's fortress - "

"Ariybar," Dustin mumbles.

" - to the ogre's fortress, was - "

"Actually he's a gnome."

Hopper's hand slowly fists and he offers a smile as he feels a vein throb in his neck. "Thank you, Dustin." He returns his gaze to the back of Wheeler's head, who's still sitting with crossed arms and hunched shoulders. "Now if I recall, that bit of evidence was a sizeable piece of torn cloth, covered in mud, found caught on a broken fence post in back of one of these amulet shops. Isn't that right," he asks the witnesses. Uh - other players.

El is glaring daggers at him, but Max nods cautiously. "Yeah, that's right."

"And why was that a clue?" he asks, crossing his arms, too. "Anybody?"

"...because it was from the princess's dress," Will answers shyly after a moment.

"It was. Now, it's just barely possible that your Dungeon Leader failed to mention - yes, fine, Dungeon Master, and if you interrupt me one more time Henderson you're never going to find out what it's like to get through puberty - that Wheeler just failed to mention that there was a giant tear in the princess's dress, though you'd think it'd be a detail the halfling horndog here would've been interested in. Or maybe there's just so much material on medieval dresses that nobody'd notice if a little went missing, what do I know. But! What'd you have to do to figure out it was part of her dress?"

"It has a unique pattern," Lucas replies.

"Right. But you couldn't see that, at first."

"No - we... had to wash it."

"And what exactly did the Dungeon Master say when you washed it?"

El's eyes flash for a moment, and she glances guiltily at Mike before answering slowly, "That... the embroidery wouldn't return to its original shiny color no matter how much we scrubbed it."

"No matter," Hopper says, pacing back around to Mike's front, "how much," he punctuates, "you scrubbed it. So what happened? Did the villain go to all the trouble of creating a new dress exactly matching the pattern of the old one? Did the dress somehow only get dirty exactly where it tore? You were only a few hours behind the villain at that point, and it hadn't rained since the day the princess was kidnapped, so there's no way the scrap got muddy after it was torn.

"It makes no sense," he concludes.

He takes a deep breath, smirking triumphantly.

...God, he's an asshole.

The realization comes as soon as he stops talking. Jesus. The kids are just trying to have a fun time, and here he is critiquing Wheeler like he's a suspect. The two are hardly best buds, but they've settled into a comfortable detente after their confrontation the night El closed the gate, and at the end of the day Hopper's fond of him, is consistently impressed by Mike's patience and generosity when it comes to El and her idiosyncrasies. God knows El's crazy about him; Hopper's certainly not winning any points with her, spouting off like this.

He scratches the side of his nose - as close to embarrassed as he ever lets himself look these days - and after a moment works up the willpower to turn to apologize.

But instead of the angry or hurt or humiliated look he expects to see on Mike's face, there's a half-smile there instead. An appraising smile. A devious smile.

"Suddenly, the light reflected from the coins grows more intense, and for a moment you're all blinded, a sound like the chime of a high-pitched bell ringing in your ears. Roll Will saves."

It's a moment before anyone speaks. "...what?" Lucas says, finally.

"Roll Will saves."

Hopper, left hanging, feels a little lost, and looks at Will. But after a moment everyone, not just Will, is rolling one of those damn multi-sided dice, and reporting some numbers that hold no meaning for him.

"When the light fades, you find yourselves frozen in place. The coins have vanished; sinister circular runes line the chamber in their place. And where the princess stood moments before now stands Ariybar, cackling loudly.

"'You fools! You really thought a great Illusionist like myself would choose to confront you in a contest of brute force?'"

"Fuck me," Dustin says, dragging his hands down his cheeks.

"Hey," Hopper warns, glancing at El. He knows it's almost certainly futile to try and safeguard her vocabulary at this point, but he's at least going to pretend to qualify as good adult supervision. Granted, the way El is staring at Mike with a proud smile on her face, Hopper isn't sure she even heard.

"What the hell is going on?" Max demands.

Wheeler shifts his attention to her. "'Ahh, yes. Where are my manners. Welcome to my ritual chamber. I've spent years perfectly attuning it to the outer planes in anticipation of this day.'"

Lucas tightens his hands into fists. "What happens today?"

"'Today, I finally bring my master home from exile. Today, he will take his place as the rightful king of this wayward nation.'"

"You don't mean - " Will begins.

"'Oh, I do. Today, the Tyrant returns.'"

Everybody gasps as though this means something. Hopper just looks bemused.

"'Through the amulets, I've gathered enough vessels to activate the ritual. Once I begin, everyone who has come into direct contact with one of the cursed tokens will become subservient to the Chosen One - the Tyrant's secret offspring. Then it's simply a matter of channeling their life force here in this chamber, and my master will walk the earth once more.'"

"Wait - wait wait. The Tyrant was a human, you're a gnome. You can't be his offspring... right?" Lucas makes a face.

"'Oh, no. Not I. I spent many years trying to discover his offspring's identity. Imagine my surprise when I learned she herself was unaware of her parentage,'" Mike says, turning his attention to Max.

Max looks at him blankly, before her eyes widen. "Wait - me? But I'm... my character's an orphan. My father died in a - "

"'In a fire, yes. Not entirely untrue; when the Tyrant was banished, a great fire swept across the capital.' Max, you feel a strange tingling in your spine, like some kind of dark energy is running up and down your body."

"I draw my bow," Lucas says with a scowl.

"Can't move."

"She won't help you," El says, her voice certain but her eyes shooting Max a questioning glance. "Um, duh," Max confirms. "My dad sounds like a real asshole. I'm not channeling anything."

"'As I expected. Reports of the Zoomer's exploits suggested someone with views that diverged significantly from her father's. No matter. I'll simply Dominate you after the ritual begins.'"

"Excuse me?" Hopper interjects.

"What? - oh, god, no," Mike says, blushing, "it's a - it's a spell."

"Though hypothetically with the control it gives you it'd be possible to use it for stuff like - " Will elbows Dustin again. (Good kid. Jesus.)

"Where is the princess?" Will demands, surprisingly forcefully.

"Uh - right. 'Her? She's insignificant. I needed a way to get the Zoomer here, to the chamber. When I heard she had fallen in with the king's favorite errand boys, it was simply a matter of contriving a circumstance that would cause the king to send them my way. The princess is currently resting comfortably at a farm not far from here. After the Tyrant returns I see no reason not to release her.'"

"We won't let you get away with this," El says, her eyes narrowed. For a moment Hopper's afraid he'll need to make a run for the tissues, but nothing falls over of its own accord or flies across the room.

"Ariybar cackles as the glyphs along the wall turn a sickly green. 'There's nothing you can do to stop me. You're trapped, and I have everything I need to complete the ritual. You should feel privileged, to witness the dawn of a new era!'"

Will grips his knees tightly. "What can we do? Can we move?"

"Nothing but your mouths."

"Does anyone have any spells prepared that don't have somatic components?"

El shakes her head.

"Stupid goddamn multiclassing," Max mutters.

"Uh... Feather Fall?" Dustin offers, presumably unhelpfully given the unenthused responses from the others.

"Well. This is it. We're finally, truly doomed," Lucas says, leaning back with resignation.

Max grunts. "This sucks. It's unfair! It's an impossible situation."

Wheeler gives a half-smirk. "Well... maybe there's one way you might be able to pull through."

Will leans forward. "What is it?"

"Well... there was someone who figured out Ariybar's ploy. So it's probably safe to say he didn't get caught."

Dustin frowns. "Who? We're all..."

Hopper scratches his chin. All the kids are accounted for. Was there some other ally they mentioned he's forgetting about? That weird carriage driver with the beard? No, he was killed by that jello cube thing. (Jesus, this game is weird.) Seems kind of lazy to let one of Wheeler's characters solve the problem at the eleventh hour, anyway. Who could...

It's at this point he realizes they're all staring at him.

"Uh - what's up?" he asks, afraid he already knows the answer.

"He doesn't even have a character sheet," Lucas points out.

"We can use some default stats," Wheeler says, pulling open one of those massive rule books.

"Uh - kids, I have a lot of work to do - uh - for instance there's case files, and... ordering, uh, staples..."

"Please Dad?" El asks, eyes wide. "You're our only hope."

She doesn't always call him Dad - it's something they're both still getting used to - and he's very aware it's no accident she's using it now, which only makes it more irritating that he already knows it's going to work.

"Fuck me," he says under his breath.

"That's the spirit, sir," Dustin says as Hopper drags one of the kitchen chairs out into the living room.

#mike wheeler #eleven #jane hopper #jim hopper #will byers #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #mileven #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #lumax

16 notes · View notes