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beevean · 2 years

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Thoughts on Dawn of Sorrow?

Dawn of Sorrow is a good game! It has pretty much all the qualities of Aria of Sorrow, but in a longer, more fleshed out experience.

The plot is a nice continuation of AoS’s, a little meatier. Soma is now the target of an evil cult who wants to resurrect the Dark Lord, and there are two candidates that are set to kill him: Dmitrii, who can copy abilities, and Dario, who can control fire (one of those is much more interesting than the other...). Dmitrii dies not long into the game, even though Soma didn’t try to kill him, leaving Dario as the last one to defeat. So far pretty standard... until you get to the Good and Bad Endings.

The requirements for the Good Ending are... weird. Equipping Mina’s Talisman to not become Dracula, that makes sense and it’s super easy - in fact, if you don’t do it (maybe because you forgot about its existence lol), Arikado will spell out the solution to you in the Bad Ending, and it’s just a matter of reloading the save file after a cutscene. This is not the problem. To avoid the Normal Ending in the first place, you need to kill Aguni, the fire demon that fused with Dario, and to do that, you need Paranoia’s soul to enter mirrors. Okay. But to get to Paranoia, you need to have the Axe Armor, the Killer Clown, and the Ukoback, because there are gates that can only be opened with those Souls. Why? Why those souls to get to Paranoia? And if you don’t have them, back to grinding you go! The game doesn’t even hint at the fact that you need Paranoia until you get to the final boss room! And only if you kill Dario, Arikado reveals that you have to sever the connection between Dario and Aguni. At least the souls in AoS made sense! This is just padding.

On the complete opposite hand, I adore what they did with Julius Mode this time. You can unlock it as usual by beating the game, but much more interestingly, you can unlock it by getting the Bad Ending, the one where Soma succumbs to his nature and becomes Dracula! You didn’t equip Mina’s Talisman, Celia kills her in front of Soma, and welp will you look at that, watching his loved one die in front of him for the third time is enough for Dracula’s spirit to overwhelm poor Soma. And you play as Julius, Alucard and Yoko as a twisted version of Castlevania 3 (rip Hammer), where you have to go and kill your former friend/protagonist :( the concept alone hurt me more than having a hand in killing Shanoa in the bad ending of OoE.

My heart is in pain :(

(Celia here has a great moment though. "Yay, I shall kill the beloved one of the Dark Lord to awaken him! He'll be grateful to me :D wait why are you mad at me for killing your beloved one". Also she literally gets yeeted before the final boss. She wasn't the brighest bulb lol)

Soma as a character has really grown on me. A seemingly normal student, one that is somewhat aloof and only has one friend-maybe-girlfriend, who discovers that he’s the reincarnation of the Dark Lord himself, and now he has powers he barely understands (although in the good ending of AoS he seems to have embraced them lol), and he makes new friends but they all seem to be on edge around him, and he has to accept that if he succumbs to his real nature his Belmont friend will come to kill him... That’s a lot to take in. Poor guy even felt guilty for not becoming the Dark Lord, and Arikado had to remind him that he's just a normal human being :( I guess that at least the beginning confirmed that, as long as he doesn't use his powers, they'll become dormant...

(the other characters were fine, but I’m... not sure of what happened to Hammer. His obsession with Yoko is not funny.)

The castle... wait. We’re not playing in Dracula's castle. What kind of Castlevania-less Castlevania is this??? D: first you change the artstyle to something more anime, then you remove the castle, clearly the series is ruined forever!!!1!

Anyway, the... With Light headquarters? are just as well designed as the castle in AoS, maybe more on the bigger, labyrinthine side, but once again it was easy to orient myself. I noticed that this time there are no optional areas like in AoS - there was one dead end in the form of the Silenced Ruins, but you need to go there for the Bat Company soul. Funny how the GBA game, which you would expect to have memory limitations, has extra areas while the DS game doesn’t. The closest thing to an optional area I've found is the lowest connection between Subterranean Hell and Wizardly Lab: you need the First Class soul to traverse a spike pit, and you find a connection with the Lost Village, some items, and some very creepy unique enemies in the form of the Homunculi, which explain what exactly the cult has been creating in this lab... Love world building like this <3

(Oh, and nice C1 reference in the Silenced Ruins, haven’t seen one in a while. It’s funny how AoS does the whole subverting of expectations by replacing the Giant Bat with Balore, but in DoS it’s all played unironically lmao.)

I know that the souls are grindier than in AoS, which kills the replayability that the fomer game was known and loved for. But... I’m an impatient spoiled brat who suffered in AoS already, so I hardly felt the difference 😂 I’m also glad that this game introduced the idea of ranking souls based on how rare they are.

DoS also makes the souls a little more complex. If you have multiple souls of the same type, the power levels up, up to 9: this is pretty nice for the easily farmable (and usually weaker) souls. But you can also go to Yoko, and let her infuse one of your souls with a certain weapon and upgrade it. I rarely used this mechanic, but it can be useful depending on your playstyle, and I appreciate the choice. Sadly this means you can’t simply find the best weapons in the game like in AoS, rip Claimh Solais :(

Speaking of souls, some of them are really interesting. The Puppet Master soul pretty much replaces the Mist in SoTN, but can I just say that astral projecting using a doll is a sick power in on itself? It’s like what I expected from Ghost lol. First Class is absolutely *chef’s kiss* Taking down Death with the Guilliotine was pretty funny. And I absolutely annhiliated Menace with the OP combo of Death + Abaddon :D

As for the whole Magic Seal mechanic... well, I had to play a hack that removed them, due to me playing on an emulator. The mechanic seems to be somewhat unpopular, and by the time I got the 5th Seal, yeah, I could see why. Let’s just say that it screams “early DS game” and move on. The other uses of the touch screen, such as clearing the ice blocks and solving the labyrinth puzzle in the Guest Room, are far more inoffensive and I didn’t mind them.

I had a few issues with the controls, though, which is odd as AoS went without a hitch. Namely, the Flying Armor. It falls too fast, and sometimes it doesn’t even activate during a jump. Climbing the Condemned Tower was pretty annoying ngl. In general Soma feels stiffer than in AoS, especially in his jumps - nothing game breaking, but I feel the difference.

The bosses are good, a step up from AoS’s, which were also good but a little basic. Dmitrii was especially fun, he reminded me of Copy Mega Man lmao. (I also didn’t expect to tackle Karasuman right after him, good thing he’s just of a pushover as he was in SoTN lmao) Some of the bosses are creepy af - Gergoth, looking like a rotten dinosaur; the Pupper Master, which is just demented; Menace, which is only slightly below Belzeebub in terms of “what in the sheer fuck am I looking at”.

(I’m a bit sad that Death snubbed me, though. C’mon, man, you’re fighting the reincarnation of your boyfriend! You really have nothing to say? :( )

The game is good looking. I’m aware that I sound like a broken record, but look, it’s not my fault Castlevania games have consistent graphics quality D: this being a 2005 DS game, it has far less 3D effects that were included in PoR and OoE, but I guess that it makes it a little more timeless? When the 3D appeared in the Pinnacle, though, it stood out much more, because man is the view so good <3 Of course, you can’t talk about the graphics without mentioning how the general style was changed from gothic to anime and... eh. It’s not the end of the world, but I can see how fans could be irritated. Soma looks good in anime style (although I mourn the loss of his glorious fur collar), and it’s still not as cutesy as PoR, but yeah, I’m glad OoE corrected itself.

(it is a little weird how the portrait want to look cuter, but then parts of the game are creepy af - The Abyss is straight up nightmare fuel, with its heavy hell/Satanic imagery, wow)

The music absolutely benefits from a less crunchy soundfont, and it’s just as good as PoR’s and OoE’s :) I did not expect a track named Dracula’s Tears to sound this funky lmao. Platinum Moonlight is oddly relaxing, with a sweet piano solo. Condemned Tower fits the ascending to Gergoth's lair and the lurking darkness beneath. Demon Guest House is vaguely unsettling, fitting for this elegant yet haunted side of the castle (there are kids' toys here, who grew up here?). Subterranean Hell is anything but hellish, in fact it's quite pleasant to listen to. The Pinnacle is yet another climax-y track for one of the hardest areas in the game, and it's so good when you're outside and you see the 3D scenery. In the Dark Night is one of my favorite boss themes in the series, shred that synth man! Scarlet Battle Soul is a great competitor, though, pumping you up for a fun fight. The Holy Trinity is back in great fashion, and I think it's the first time since Symphony of the Night that one of them has reappeared?

So I guess the final question is: do I prefer AoS or DoS? I honestly expected worse. I would maybe put AoS above DoS due to the excessive grinding in the latter, the less intuitive way to avoid the Normal Ending, and yeah I can imagine how annoying the Seals are in the original game lmao, but I can’t say DoS is a huge step backwards. It has higher highs and lower lows, but not in an extreme fashion. I had fun :)

#castlevania #dawn of sorrow

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jeeperso · 2 years

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D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft Edition, Har-Akir arc, part 1

Poom: "You are not getting me into a dress.” "Hammer pants it is.” Irost: “But how else are we going to sneak you into the palace? Gorbash? That color would be atrocious on him!” Nyx: "Rats, no secret dress-up party then.” Marshal: “You're not the one who had to be vac-metallized in gold.” Jonni: “I have a sexy plan.” Gorbash: “You always have a Sexy plan or a violent plan... or a sexy violent plan.” Irost: “Is it going to be the ghoul pit all over?” "Just as long as the plan doesn't involve peanut butter. I'm still picking pieces out of my ear, I said we should have used creamy instead of chunky.” OOC: I'm forgetting, who is Kat? OOC2: Hairless Tabaxi. Part of a Polycule with three Kenku. OOC: Okay. "If... If I dress up like a naked cat.. does that still count as being furry?” “Only if you shave. But I’m pretty sure that’s offensive.” "You ever seen a dried Illithid? It’s not pretty.” Jonni: “I’ll search the ladies.” "Ah. It’s glowing... That is ominous and foreboding... and a good sign.” "If I do not see you hacking off Nima's fingers, it is not illegal.” Gorbash: “Ah revisiting old memories... like walking on broken glass.” Gorbash: “I'm honestly surprised, usually we have to slaughter or humiliate at least one before things realize it’s a bad idea to bother our caravan.” "Oh we got all kinds of fun. I mean mummies are the big thing but we have Chimera, Manticore, Jackalweres, all sorts of nastiness.” “Genies?” Jonni asks lasciviously. Poom: "What are you, trying to collect the whole set?” Jonni: “If by set you mean every willing woman in the multiverse, then yes.” Azathoth: "Poom! POOM! Follow up on the obvious plot-hook!” Nyx: "Azathoth, no breaking the 4th wall, we just got it fixed after the other campaign broke it.” Nima: ”By the way, help yourself to one of my wares.” She throws a crude totem shaped like a monkey at you. “It's the latest thing, Nima's fantastic totems. Each one is wholly unique and totally yours forever.” Poom: "Art is in the eye of the beholder. But this...this is from its butt.” Nima: ”You know Acheron? That realm of endless pointless conflict.” Yogsothoth: "The 4chan message boards?” Nima: ”Well, each one of these totems is connected to a cube in an endless chain of them, which will be the resting place of the owner after death. And every time I make a new one, a chunk of another plane of existence is ripped out and transported to Acheron.” Marshal: "Edition Wars start this way…" Poom: "Sounds environmentally unsound.” Nima: "Very much so." Nyx: "Why the hell do you make these totems then!?!” Gorbash: "Fun and Profit, I would guess?” Nima: "In theory, but actually no one is buying them. Despite my insistence that they are extremely valuable. But mark my words, I will jam these things down people throats. Literally if I have to.” Gorbash: “So you point us at a tomb, we clear it out and give you the corpses, and then you give us the ring we want. Seems reasonable, with attempted deadly betrayal chances at mostly acceptable levels.” Nima: ”THAT'S A DICK MOVE JONNI. NO ONE LIKES A NARC JONNI! OH AND TELL WILLOW I SAID HI WHEN YO U SEE HER.” Nima: "What did I do to any of you? Aside from laugh at your friends boundless stupidity?” Jonni: “You set up his boundless stupidity!” Edmund: "It was a calculated risk, not stupidity!” Gorbash: “If that risk was calculated, then you're bad at math.” "... You know. Those monkey totems were kind of interesting.” “Your boundless stupidity is showing, Eddie.” "It is against the code to defenestrate a comrade…" Marshal mutters, pointedly not looking at Edmund, but his spectral watchers nod vigorously. Gorbash: “Resist urge to immediately murder local authorities.” The guards head off. After they do, a small skeletal raven lands on Jonni's shoulders with a note in its beak. Irost: "Hey! They have tweets here too!” "After we get that signet ring I say we find a way to cast a tracking spell on her, then hunt her down later after we have gotten everything off the list from around here.” Gorbash: “Best revenge is living well and all that. Nah I can't say that with a straight face, but it is a dish best served cold so bide your time.” Jonni: “Yeah, I know. You realize I’ve been good today? I was gonna polymorph them.” Gorbash pats her head. "And I'm proud that you didn’t." “I don't want to end up a raccoon, once was enough.” Nyx turns her hat of disguise into a giant, over-sized top hat then pulls it down over herself to hide inside. The purple cat bows, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Katastrophes, priest of Oru, who orders the heavens and all beneath.” "I'm not scared, I just don't want to look at that outfit on someone hairless any longer.” Poom already knows all the best exits. Jon: “And I am suddenly very willing to commit… what’s the technical term for murdering a cleric?” Poom: "There's a technical term?” Behind him Jonni mimes casting fireball to Kat with a big questioning smile. "The term is devout dissention I think. Its how you get new groups formed...Better not though... We don’t want you associated with new groups of a church. Being known as a Sect Maniac will do you no good.” Gorbash mutters about getting blood stains out of wood. Poom: "I know a few ways…" Katastrophe: “Ladies and gentlemen we are gathered here to get through this thing called life. Electric word life it means forever and that's a really long time... wait this isn't the right script.” “Just do the short version.” You notice the silverware is missing from a few carts. “It’s okay, we stole that in the first adventure.” Gorbash: “Well to be fair we're probably going to be looting at least one tomb to the bedrock before we leave.” "My father is the famed architect, Katonahottinrouth.” “Please stop.” "And my mother is Katenthecanary.” Marshal: ”Just like the greatest and most terrible of theives, the Bretonnian Imperial Museum.” Gorbash: “Well we'll just sell the stuff off, not brag about how enlightened we are while displaying our ill-gotten gain.” "Oh no, Kat is pun-blind!” "A blessing be upon her, yes.” Nyx: ”So...who wants to make a bet as to the odds of the Black Scarab being in the same tomb as wherever Nima sends us?” Gorbash: “The odds of that happening are incredibly unlikely... so almost certainly.” "No, this feels like a beheading sort of domain.” “Would that kill you?” "You'll understand if I do not wish to find out, but likely yes.” OOC: Well, hope [GM] wasn't struck by a meteor or something. Night!

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft

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mournfulmelodysblog · 2 years

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Woodrussy and His Very Long Day

Chapter 10.4: Woodrussy and His Very Long Day

Undead!Gneeze is here….fuck. Only Elle can see into this darkness, only she has Devil’s sight. We all hear “You let me die” furiously on repeat. She sees him grab his hammer and begin to swing. The Captain asks “Elle sweetie, is that Gneeze?”. “Yes honey, and he is really fucking mad”. He leads Elle behind him and goes to Dodge. Gneeze goes to aim at Woodrow and threw Shield up as it connects. Woodrow starts yelling about how crazy this is. Mogo casts Channel of Divinity to get their spell slot back. Elle is up and charges at Gneeze with the Flyxblade. She misses with all three hits, even with high chances none of them hit. She goes to turn back and as she is returning, Gneeze shoots necrotic damage into her. Making her former attached arm fall right back off with sword in hand. She screams “What the fuck, not again. My armmm” and is able to grab her sword with her other arm. Woodrow casts Haste and gets ready for any future attack. “Charlie, do you have Daylight or can you dispel this shit?” Woodrow screams into the void. UwU tries to squeal but it comes out as a hoarse squeak, she needs a cough drop. She tried to use echolocation. Gneeze runs up to Elle and smashes hard into her and slams her into the side. She can’t see him currently and she is badly injured. The Captain fumbles around to push something onto Elle’s stomach. Its a Superior Potion. Gneeze is behind us and comes in overhead to smash Charlie. Woodrow can hear Shield being thrown up but Gneeze is able to break it. Gneeze gets a good hit in and Charlie tries to brace into UwU’s leg. Gneeze goes to grapple Charlie. Gneeze has Charlie pulled up close and Mogo is up. Mogo tries to use Command but it fails because he is immune to Charm. Mogo uttered “Drop it” and made eye contact with Gneeze. Mogo is not seeing Gneeze, it is the shape of Gneeze but to them, it looks like some humanoid creation. It looks very fuzzy and his face is off. It cracks a large unnatural smile. Charlie casts Psychic Bond, he yells that Elle should have done this. He connects all of us. We all keep talking through it. Mogo is explaining that it doesn't look how Gneeze is described, it looks “smokey”. Elle doesnt know what to do and Woodrow says to just lead everyone else since she can see. Elle can see fairly well where everything is. Woodrow asks how bad Charlie is. He says he is okay, on a scale from 1-86 and he's a 66. It could be worse I guess. Elle tells him to aim for the legs, don’t hit Charlie who is grappled. Woodrow goes to swing. Woodrow misses his shots. He's so close but he keeps hearing Gneeze bouncing over it. Woodrow says he is lucky he can’t see. The dog tries to bite Gneeze’s ankle. The dog bites down and Charlie drops but Gneeze is able to catch him. Titan was able to get the first hit. Woodrow tries to use Arcane Jolt but it doesn't work. Mogo recounts to us what just happened.

UwU knows everyone is behind her. UwU is able to punch through but it felt like punching through water and smoke. It just reformed but it was a hit. UwU goes to hit and accidently hits Charlie and he groans. UwU tries to hit again and it evaporates and forms back. Something is definitely wrong here. Gneeze who is still holding Charlie and he is going to make a run for it. He starts trying to barrel through us. Gneeze starts whispering in Charlie’s ear. Woodrow wasnt able to hit. Elle tries to run but she misses, she does only have one hand to be fair. The Captain gets the swing in and we here “Sentinel, Bitch” and hes locked into place. The Captain is able to hit, two miss but one hit. Charlie says “It wants to go home”. Gneeze turns over. Mogo goes to cast Dispel Magic. They are trying to see if Gneeze has something magical wrong with him. It does fail. Charlie goes to reach his hand up and shoots Magic Missile. Elle uses the Superior

potion and prays to Flyx. She starts rambling about everything and her says to name her three biggest issues and he can see what he can do. She says her arm: He says she can fix it herself, she has done it before. She says to restraint Gneeze: He says he could but he wont. She says okay can you help Magical Darkness: He says he could but he wont. She begs him to do anything and he says he will see what he can do.

Woodrow yells and asks if Charlie is okay. He said he is at 60. He yells for Elle and she jus says she is doing rough as hell. He stumbles over to her. He gives her a ring meant for Mikayla and UwU. Mogo gives him a squawk and goes “You promised!”. Its a big ring so he puts it on her thumb. It gives her “Warding Bond” with him. He then yells to open up, the Captain cant see shit but he slowly turns his head to where he thinks Woodrow is. He said that is his line…ANYWAY, he gives Elle a potion. Woodrow goes back to attack and casts Arcane Jolt which also heals Elle again. He yells at her for not to fuck up this chance and use Sneak Attack. UwU tries to hit but misses all of them. We hear a faint conversation between Charlie and something else about “No no I can’t, well maybe”. He yells “Guys I am about to planeshift” and we all panic. The Captain goes to swing on Gneeze. It hits and he is back to being Sentineled. Gneeze says “He doesn't like this very much”. Coming from the darkness, tendrils go to grab the Captain. He pulls him back. He is screaming “What the fuck, What the fuck”. Elle screams that she is going to have to kill a bitch now. Mogo tries to banish Gneeze and it starts wrapping around it and dissolves. The darkness lifts and we can see again. Charlie starts weaving a magic spell. He casts planeshift and Elle tries to cast Counterspell. He dissolves it and everyone rushes in to grab Charlie. The Captain is still restrained. Elle, UwU and Mogo grapple him to go. Elle says he will need support and she can at least teleport back. We all get pulled into his planeshift.

Mogo is the first one to open their eyes. They hear wildlife in the distance, its humid and they smell wet dirt and forest. They are on their side. They notice they are in an overgrown rainforest type place. Its later in the day and not much longer until night. Melody wakes up flatbacked, she is sleeping under a canopy of leaves and sees the last of the light under the tree canopies. The last thing she remembers is going back to her room and going to sleep. She was startled awake to the sound of an explosion and then went unconscious. Charlie bolts upright and he is in the middle of all of us. We are in a curricular pattern around all of us. He can tell Mogo is awake and can tell everyone elses thoughts. Elle wakes up, laying on Psychic Hand and it looks rough but its there. Woodrow wakes up and his head is thumping. He goes “What the fuckk”. Mogo goes “theres dirt” and he goes “I see”. He takes note of everyone else. UwU is still trying to wake up. Woodrow helps Elle up. Woodrow also notices Melody. UwU wakes up and knows shes woken up in weird places, but never a rainforest. She immediately throws up. Mogo sits up and just bile dripples down their face like a baby. Elle goes to give UwU the neverending water to clean her up. They all start noticing really old scrambled egg in her hair. UwU never noticed and neither did Charlie. Woodrow uses prestidigitation. Melody just says “Hey”, cool as a cucumber. “Are you Melody or are you Melody”? and Charlie asks what does that even mean. Mogo just says “I dont know but there is dirt”.Elle says there sure is. Elle returns the ring. We hear “The Captain” very faintly. Woodrow, Mogo, Charlie, and Melody try to help figure out where we are. Mogo goes that we are in a rainforest and its humid so not the best roll. Woodrow knows we arent in Arteria. Charlie notices that this isn't nature we aren't familiar with, that we could be on another

side of the world. We don't seem to be on an island. Melody notices we are in Kathis, this is her home plane. She doesn’t tell the group she recognizes this location. She knows it is furthest south from when the party originally came to her village a year ago. She does recognize the area. Charlie says he doesn’t know why we are here. Woodrow just explains what happened but Charlie knows he was dominated to plane shift. Woodrow explains the whole Gneeze backstory such as his body changing because of his death and how Mikayla is his daughter. Elle says we don’t need all that right now. Charlie asks UwU if she knew this before getting with Mikayla but she says no one really tells her anything. She then asks what happened with Gneeze? He isn’t here. Mogo and Elle did notice that Gneeze disappeared before plane shifted was casted. We don’t really know all the details, just that the smoke blew away when it was hit with Banishment. Charlie mentions how its really dark and can tell it was really powerful but Charlie has never met Gneeze. He says how could have been killed if he had those abilities? Woodrow explains that we saw him killed by LeStrange, who is a rakshasa. That we saw his soul sucked into a gem. Charlie says that still doesn't make sense what just happened. Woodrow explains that Gneeze was a warlock to that fiend, that was his patron. Maybe his soul is being controlled? They try to figure out answers, Elle suggests calling the Captain to check in on him and also see if Gneezes body is still in the tombs. Woodrow starts ascending up to find where we are. Woodrow is flying through spider webs and notices some familiar things. He isn’t able to find anything super distinct. He does notice we are in a valley with big mountains and rainforest area. Elle suggests someone Polymorph into a bird and scope out the area. Charlie polymorphs into a giant owl to scope out the area. Elle messages the Captain. She asks if he is alive and all good, he says he is but he asks what happened. She gives him the rundown. He says that if she was behind them all going, she really does care. She says not to tell anyone shit about that, he says he wont but he will tell Flyx (who is already listening in and says he knows). He says he will figure out something and to be safe, Elle mentions that she will try not to die and he says dont put that in his head. Woodrow asks Melody if she remembers anything from the night before. He asks if she remembers leaving the comedy show? She does and then he tells her what we found before the Gneeze encounter. Elle mentions it was like a shadow creature that resembles Gneeze. He asks her why she left the show and she said she wasnt feeling it. He asks Mogo what he was able to scry on. He says he heard conflict, like she was interrogating someone. They heard the words “Tell me what I want to know” . Elle brings up that this has to be correlated. One, why would Gneeze want Charlie to come here specifically.? Two, how is Gneeze showing up and Melody having memory lapses correlated? Three, we dont know where Gneeze is and if he even came with us. Woodrow is asking why they would want to break the mirror. Woodrow brings up it could be LeStrange involved since Gneeze is involved. He uses detect magic on her items to see if he notices anything messing with her. He is picking on her magical items, he notices that she is a sorcerer. She is the Divine Soul. That means someone in her lineage had relations with an angel. Woodrow finds it interesting since she is a tiefling. UwU uses Detect Evil and Good. She notices Elle’s aura little fireflies flicking because she is elven, same with Woodrow because he is fey kind. Melody has an aura that is not common. A completely neutral aura, something powerful neither celestial or fiend. Her aura looks unstable and flickers in and out. UwU notices her own aura, she notices this little buzzing firefly because of Flyx. She can also detect everyone's alignment. Mogo is chaotic good, Woodrow is neutral good, Elle is chaotic good, Melody is neutral but sometimes it can be lawful evil. UwU is chaotic

good but she also jumps through chaotic neutral. She looks at Charlies and it is borderline Neutral good and lawful good. Charlie says up north that there is a village and that we could get there in an hour or two. That we need to move before the darkness. He thinks we should just make our way there. Woodrow says if we fly, he can carry Mogo and Melody and Charlie can Polymorph into birds and carry everyone else. Melody still has not mentioned that she knows where we are at and there are creatures that will give us a disadvantage. Elle brings up how come she didnt mention it before and then where exactly are we. She doesn't answer the first question but she says this is her home, Cathis. Woodrow and Elle recognize it from the time we came here with Akira and where she first became a patron. She says that there are creatures that can fly after us so our idea isnt the bed. On foot would be the best idea. She said she doesnt feel like dying. here are a lot of creatures that can cloak like flying snake creatures and on foot, there are huge creatures that are nocturnal. They are insectoid and alot in number. She asks if we want to be safe in the village or die out here, she is offering to teleport us all. Melody casts teleport and sends us to the village. We teleport a large stream, not large enough to be a river. Theres a fog rolling in so we dont see the village at the moment. Melody is leading the way with Elle in the back. She is looking for it but she isnt quite seeing the village but her foots hit something solid. She notices she is walking on charred ash colored planks. It throws Woodrow off guard who is following behind her. Woodrow notices that it should be wood but something is off. He tells Melody to back up slowly and that we all should. Elle starts walking backwards and Elles foot hits something solid too. She relays the message and slowly turns around. It is a perfectly cylindrical thing, it is a deck. We see side railings and see it disappear into the smoke. Elle turns on Ghostly Gaze and just noticed how big it is. Elle tries to walk around the ship. She sees the full ship, about 20 feet apart. She notices alot of masts with many crates. She sees that everything there is completely solid, even the crates and such. Woodrow goes to fly up but not too high because of the creatures. He flies up looking for a flag.He notices it all looking charred and black still. It looks familiar and Woodrow and Elle figure it out. It is the Lionen ship. That ship was half eaten by the mimic ship and the other sank. Mogo and Melody dont move and UwU says “what the fuck is wrong with all of this”? Charlie asks us if we are dead, Elle says she highly doubts it. Elle hears a loud thumping sound and starts frantically looking around. She can hear heavy footsteps of seven distinct people. She hears scraping sounds and heavy footsteps getting closer. She can see coming from fog and from the outline is a large Lionen. Another member, another, a goblin creature. They are slowly walking towards the party. We hear three more. Woodrow says to try to talk to them.

Elle starts saying “Hey hey chill out, what’s up guys?”. They all stop in unison. Melody knows who it is, it is Captain Lenwood. The man who gave her a job on the ship. Melody almost goes up to him but Elle stops her. Melody notices that nothing about them looks natural and the details look wrong and off. He is completely black, the same color as the ship. Melody relays the info to everyone else as she backs up. Woodrow says we should fly away and Melody says that isnt a good idea. Lenwood says in a super raspy scary voice: “Where is the woodrow?” Mogon casts Command “I would put that down if I were you” but it doesn't work. He cracks an unnatural smile and lowers the sword. Glenwood rushes forward to hit Elle and gets two good hits on. Woodrow flies down 30 feet. Woodrow casts False Life, the dog jumps in at Glenwood. It hits but it dissipates and reforms back, same to the Gneeze we just fought. Woodrow uses the last

he can to heal. Another crew member aims for Elle and hits her again. Charlie claps his hand together and casts Haste on Elle. Melody used Inflict Wounds. Another crew member goes to hit Elle and both hit, it is so bad right now.UwU tries to use Fury Of Blows but misses all of her hits, these ones are just as hard to hit. One keeps looking for Woodrow. Elle gives herself the superior potion, she calls her Fey. She tries to make it hit but it misses. She aims and hits it successfully. Mogo casts Spirit Guardians and they look like little poop emojis but it misses. More of the members hit Elle and slowly aim for her HP. Woodrow was able to magic missile all seven but the dog missed. Charlie also was able to magic missile five of them. UwU misses her hit. Elle misses her first two hits but hit again with the Feyblade and cuts fake Lenwood’s face off. Mogo goes to heal Elle and helps her out, she was at 3. One of the members hits Woodrow and another small hit. He is currently grappled but the rest are prone because he fell down from the sky to get closer to everyone else. He is able to get some shots in. Another member goes after Elle and gets another hit in. Charlie uses a magic missile and is able to hit all three. Elle gets hit again and now she is down. Melody tries to pour a healing potion down her throat. She uses a superior potion. Melody also casts Cure Wounds to help give her more back.

Another crew member drops on Elle and since she is prone, it takes an attack. Her spirit guardian disappeared because it needs concentration. Mogo, UwU, and Charlie see it come down and then it stops before hitting Elle. It cuts back and starts aiming for UwU. UwU goes to hit and gets one in. He evaporates back in right after. Elle gets back up and starts going in with the Feyblade. She gets three solid hits on it but misses with the Hexblade. It goes after Woodrow and gets a hit in. Mogo tries to hit by misses. UwU gets targeted by another member. Woodrow goes to use Arcane Jolt on UwU. We all keep trying to whittle them down. UwU got one down. Woodrow got another one down. Elle tries to but misses alot.Melody shot Firebolt hurtling towards the last creature and as it hits and evaporates. Everything around her starts disappearing and she is left alone in this large expanse. Fog is everywhere and she is by herself, she can see her breath fog up. It is cold with black marble. She doesnt know what to do, just stands there.

Everyone else sees her shoot with three eldritch blasts while dropping her staff. It then evaporates and the construct around us starts becoming black smoke. It starts settling around us. It looks like darkness around us. The fog has lifted, we are in the middle of a village. It is empty and abandoned. We start looking around and there have been no signs of life for a very long time. There is growth everywhere. Woodrow starts looking around and realizes that we have been here before. It is the village where we were previously with the Akira incident and meeting Brick. We also saw Melody here for the first time but we didnt get to know her until the ship. We see that it seems there hasnt been life here in a very very long time. We all just stand here unsure what to do next.UwU asks Melody why she isnt more concerned about her village and when she answers, Elle can tell right off the bat that isn’t Melody we were just fighting with. She answers that with the stress of everything, there is alot to unpack. Elle cuts off her Psychic Whispers link and tells everyone that she thinks Melody is doing the thing again. We notice Melody start becoming visibly annoyed so Woodrow deflects and starts outloud asking everyone if they need helped. Mogo goes up to Melody and asks if she needs to be healed, they are not sure why the link ended for them (lying, what a king). They offer their hands out and Melody

puts her hands in there unsure what is happening. Mogo casts a calming spell to help her seem less irritated. Woodrow keeps thinking and we all start to bring up how this makes no goddamn sense because we were just at this village not super long ago. Even if time moves differently in this dimension, it doesn't seem right because Melody is the same. We even saw Brick like a few days ago. Charlie starts piecing together some information and all the clues we have. He says that it has been mentioned before about Ancient Tief, this very old ancient language that is basically incomprehensible to understand. Its the same writing on the necklace Woodrow has of his brother. He says Ancient Tief is a language connected to a group he believed to be a myth. The Banished. The story goes that there was this group that was incredibly advanced, decades before anything would even follow. They had more powerful magic then is even possible currently. Ancient and strong but one day they did something to anger the gods. So they were wiped from existence and nothing was to be left of them. We start theorizing its possible this village is connected to the Banished but how does Melody fit into this? Time could move differently in this dimension but that would make her millions of years older and that doesnt seem to be the case. All of this is linked to LeStrange who we last knew took Gneezes soul into a necklace and stabbed through his body. Also the ship and crew mates were something of Melodys past. We also are able to feel a connection, weak but still, with the Captain. How far could we really be from our dimension?

Going back to Melody. She hears footsteps approaching her. It is Gneeze in a clean white linen shirt (very off brand). He looks at her and says “We have a lot to talk about. Follow me” and she decides to go along because what else is there to do? We see it is getting darker outside and realize we all need to rest because everyone is out of spells and low as hell on health. We start heading for the houses to lay low for the night and to barricade away from whatever creatures could try and attack us. We dont notice but Melody slipped away somewhere.

#dnd dndshenanigans

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yourplayersaidwhat · 2 years

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I just started playing dnd, I have for a very long time, but finally. For context I was playing as a hill dwarf cleric, my brother (quite a bit younger, he like bebe) is a human paladin. My dad was dming for this 'practice round' we are in a simulation pretty much.

Dm: okay uhh so a goblin just materializes in front of you

Me, getting to roll first: I will use my warhammer!

Dm: roll those dice

Me, hopeful: okay! Aaaand... I have a 13.

We went through the learning process of how to calculate hits and non hits, I hit the goblin. I was full of hope, and I thought that I would be able to obliterate all enemies. I thought.

My brother: can I use my big sword? *he rolls a 19 or something crazy*

Dm: okay so the goblin is sliced in half, he is dead. Another one materializes.

Me, hoping i can get my brothers luck: okay uhhh I will use my hammer again! *I roll. A. 3. I rolled. A. 3.* awww

Dm, laughing: okay you miss and hit yourself. Roll for damage. *I then roll a 6* okay how many health do you have?

Me: 12. So now it's a six.

My brother, also laughing at me: I use my sword again! *he rolls a 20*

Dm, amazed: he just, explodes into a red mist

My brother celebrates whilst I sob, but this is just the beginning.

Dm: alright, let's go with something harder. An ogre spawns in. It attacks *my name*. *roll*, and that's a hit. 15. You take... *rolls again*... 5 damage!

Me, panicking while I cry: uh uh uh I can run 25 feet away, then use bonus slot to heal?

Dm: uh yeah sure

We go through the learning of spells, about how the fuck they work

Me: okay I think I got it. *rolls a 2* two points of health! I'm going to die!

My brother: let's use the sword again. *he rolls 15* does it hit?

Dm: uh yeah thats... Plus your bonus... (Like 6 or something) good job. The ogre/troll attacks *brother*...*he rolls* ah... A 4... Its blow just bounces off of your armor

I'm stressed as fuck now, I'm literally tears from My eyes crying

Me: I guess I use my throwing axes. *I roll... 1.* oh no...

Dm: okay so that's like 5 damage.

Me: I'm almost dead! Twice! and *brother* is full health!

My brother is wheezing now: i-i use the sword. *rolls* 16! Does it hit?

Dm, sighing: yeah. 3 points of damage. He's almost dead.

We then try to figure out how many heals i can do, and what spells i can cast

Me: okay so i can cast two more bonus actions! Uh heal please

Dm: okay sure. *I roll* that's 3 health.

Me: okay that's good i guess

My brother: okay I hit him with the sword *rolls a 12 or 13 or something* yay

Dm: that's a hit with the bonus. He's dead. I think it's time we finish now, it's getting late and you have school tomorrow.

I'm sobbing, my brother is rolling his die for fun and is regularly getting 20's

This was a couple of weeks ago, so the exact are a little blurry. That's the gist of it though

#shit my players say #dnd #rpg #submission #shareable #long post #clearly the dice hate you

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jinpanman · 3 years

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All I Want Is You(ngi)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: pg15, fluff, established relationship

warnings: alcohol consumption

summary: Yoongi takes his baby out to sing karaoke the night before Christmas with the two Seoks. It’s a riot with drunken caroling (read: hollering) but he's so in love that he doesn't care.

a/n: My part of the SNOWLLAB with a super lovely bunch. Pls do yoself a favor and read everyone’s stories when they drop cause I promis it’ll be amazing. <3 A big thank you to Willow for pulling this crew together. A big thank you to Willow for the prompt inspo. A big thank you to Willow for creating the banner. A big thank you to Willow for beta reading my lil story and fixing up all the lil pieces and praising me….. So basically this is one big love letter to Willow. Thanks for being the best and most amazing little holibean 💙💚

sequel: Will You(ngi) Marry Me?

Here he is now, currently regretting his inability to ever say no to your whims as he watches you skip with a couple of slips and twisted ankles along the way to the front of the small darkened room and snatch the mic off its stand. You’re bent over the karaoke machine, clumsily swiping the screen to find the song you want. After several more swipes, you squeal excitedly... and then he hears it. The reason for your excitement. The all too familiar jingling of church and sleigh bells elicits an embarrassed groan from him. You turn to face your small audience and after taking an unreasonably deep breath, you close your eyes and sing.

“I… don’t want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need…”

“Sing it girl!” Hoseok cheers, thrusting a newly opened glass bottle into the air.

“Aaall I want for Christmas…”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT Y/N?!” Hoseok shrieks over the music.

“...iiiiiiss YOOOOUU...NGIII!!!” You hunch over to belt out the last note and your hair falls over your face but he doesn’t need to see you to know your features are scrunched up in order to sing past your lung capacity.

Yoongi very much wants to curl in the corner to hide from your unabashed love, but alas you, Hoseok, and Seokjin would never let him live it down, so instead he sits there trying (and failing) to fight the shy smile that overtakes his features. Even as the music grows louder, Yoongi can hear Seokjin laughing and slapping Hoseok’s thighs on the other side of the booth.

Oh god. It was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea to have agreed to go out to karaoke with Seokjin and Hoseok, but you had begged and begged him and he was but a weak man when it came to you.

“I should have remembered it’s never a normal holiday with this crew.” He moans into his hands.

A hand roughly pats him on his shoulder. He peeks through his fingers to the portrait of a grinning Jin, now beside him. The man extends an unopened bottle of alcohol out to him.

“You sure you don’t want a drink, man? I know you drove but I don't mind chauffeuring you both home and taking a cab from there.”

“Nah, I’m good. We can’t both be stupid drunk when we get home. We might burn the house down then you’d have to waste even more money to come collect our bodies.”

Jin snorts at his remark. “Touché.”

The two of them lay back against the bench cushion and watch with horrified amusement as a wobbly Hoseok makes his way to you. The rambunctious (and very buzzed) duo up on the little stage drop to their knees and Yoongi balks at the way the two of you obscenely shake your butts to the very cheery tune of Mariah Carey’s biggest holiday hit. Sober Hoseok was always a delight. Even Yoongi didn’t mind busting out a few moves every now and then with him. Drunk Hoseok, though, he was a different animal altogether. Insatiable, he was, and he was the perfect hype man for drunk you.

Yoongi makes eye contact with you and now that you’ve got his attention, you reach out your free hand towards him and beckon him over with the curl of your finger. His heart goes a-hammering away without his permission. Yoongi, a fool in love, lets himself be pushed out of his seat and like a man lost at sea, he’s pulled closer and closer to the siren who sings the song meant to be his undoing.

Except that the siren is you and your slurred singing is not at all alluring or seductive. He smiles at your pitiful attempt at fluttering your lashes at him. Despite your inability to entice him with your song and your sensual form, he still jumps overboard. He jumps and dives headfirst into the ocean that is your freely given love. All for him. Even a horrendous, throaty snort does nothing to unwind the unintentional spell you've cast on him. He faintly hears the two men squealing like children behind him, but all he can hear, all he can see is you.

“Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is you! Yoongi, baby!”

He can’t help but giggle at the way you serenade him, with your terribly exaggerated airy voice, but he loves it all the same. He loves you and all the surprises and jolly that comes with loving you.

Both you and Hoseok giggle at each other as Yoongi and Seokjin try to guide the two of you out of the building. Hoseok clings to his partner but his free hand is held tight in your grip, much to Yoongi’s chagrin. You’re both so wobbly and walking together is no help to either him or Jin.

It’s definitely gotten chillier and Yoongi is grateful that you didn’t forget your winter coat tonight. You’re bundled and cosy beside him, with the hood wrapped snug over your head. Your eyes are still glassy and your breathing hasn’t quite recovered from your exuberant singing competition against Seokjin, but that’s okay. You know Yoongi will take care of you. That’s the only reason why you were able to let go so freely tonight anyway, and he takes pride in knowing that you trust him so entirely. He hoists you up into a more comfortable standing position and nods to Jin.

“Merry Christmas, hyung.”

“Merry Chrysler, Yoongichi. Drive home safely!”

Yoongi grimaces and mutters under his breath but Jin merely smiles bigger. With a final wave, he pulls a swaying and incoherent Hoseok close to his side and they walk to their awaiting cab. He would have waited until they got into the car, but you’ve started blowing raspberries on his neck. While he normally wouldn’t mind having your saliva on him, he can feel remnants of soggy pretzel bits flying out of your mouth onto his exposed skin and that is more than enough to kill what could have been a flirtatious mood. He pushes your head away, eliciting a squeaky whine.

“Ah, stop. That’s gross. C’mon, let’s go home.”

It wasn’t too much trouble getting you in and out of the car, but now that you have arrived home, you refuse to step inside your house. You cling onto him like a lifeline, as if you’ll fall to the ground and drown in the air that surrounds you.

“I don’t wanna go home yet, Yoongiii. I feel soooo gross!” You whine, heavily emphasizing on how gross you felt.

“That’s why we’re gonna go inside and shower, baby. So you’re not gross.”

“Oh my goood!” You sob into his shoulder. “You think I’m gross!”

Yoongi sighs and looks into the night sky, pressing his lips tightly together into a forced smile. You continue to wail out in the open and he all but clamps your mouth shut with a press of his finger against your lips.

“Do you wanna go for a walk instead?” You immediately shut up and nod eagerly. “Okay, let’s go walk, honey.”

He knows you’ll complain about the cold in a few minutes, but he’ll deal with that future Y/N when she arrives. They’ve walked a short distance around the complex when he suddenly feels a drop of cold wetness against his cheek. He looks up and notices the flakes of white falling from the sky. He squeezes your hand and points your interlaced hands up.

“Baby, it’s snowing.”

“Oh, shit it’s snowing! Okay.” You perk up at having heard that and untangle yourself from him. “Shit. Let me, let me uh, wait. Here.”

Before he could even begin to guess what you were about to do, you plop yourself right onto the cold grass. You shriek at the burst of cold against your legs but like the diva you think you are, you don’t get up and instead pose for him. Your hands are positioned entirely too close around your face that your eyes are barely visible and your skirt is hiked so far up your hunched legs that he can see your panties. You’re wearing those adorable brown bear ones he knows you think are the most comfortable pair of undies you’ve ever owned. Cute.

“Okay. I’m ready. Always gotta be ready for the camera.”

The noise that comes out of his mouth is entirely uncontrollable and he all but melts at the sight of you. The fairy lights your landlords put up around the apartments shine brightly in the night and illuminate the flakes of snow that fall from the sky. It’s a beautiful sight, but you shine the brightest. The light hovering above you highlights your subtle cheekbones and the combination of the falling snow and lights creates a sort of glowing halo around you.

You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person he has ever laid eyes on.

The most beautiful and also the most extra because of course your first instinct would be to pose for him. That was how you met, after all. He had been out practicing street photography a few years ago when he bumped into you. You had the decency to be politely curious why he was taking pictures of strangers and after he shared his project, you agreed (even though he never asked) to let him take pictures of you. You started posing immediately and even walked around the block to pose with whatever you found interesting, whether it was the wall of a building or a newspaper stand. He probably loved you then. He definitely loves you now.

It’s too bad he doesn’t have his camera with him. His phone will have to do, so he pulls it out, angles himself and the phone at just the right spot, and takes several shots. Your eyes have shut close again, the trickle of soft snow cascading down onto your face and hair. Oh, the way his smile only widens as you bat your eyes in an attempt to blink the snowflakes away. He waves his phone and you suddenly remember what you were here for and you smile for the camera. Smile for him.

“Sit down and take a picture with me!” You pout and pat the space next to you.

Who is he to say no? Several very blurry photos later (because what’s the point of getting drunk if you weren’t going to take blurry pics?), you were finally done with the cold. You cup his face and kiss his pink-tipped nose.

“You’re cold, Yoongi. Let’s go home.”

“Mmm… Let’s go.”

He takes your hand in his and tucks both your hands inside his coat pocket, knowing full well that you have a coat of your own with its own pockets. It’s true, his face is somewhat numb from the cold of the night, but he is quickly heating up wholly by the warmth of your shared love that the two of you have nurtured and tended to together.

“I hope you had fun tonight, baby.”

“I always have fun when I’m with you, Yoongi-poo.”

“So… what do you want most for Christmas?” He wonders if you’ll accidentally spill what you really want for Christmas but not even drunk you would sell yourself out to him.

“Didn’t I literally just sing ‘all I want for christmas is Yoooongiii’? Did I not make it clear enough?”

His lips spread into a bright upward curl and he giggles at the way you stare at him as if he was stupid for even asking such a question. As if it was obvious what you wanted. Of course, he knew you would say that. He honestly just wanted to hear you say it again. And... oh no. Now you’re singing again. Hollering, more like. Ah, well. It’s only for one night. He pulls you closer beside him and sings along with you, albeit in a much quieter tone.

Your apartment is back in eyeview and he pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s only a minute left until Christmas. He continues to watch the time pass by the seconds until there are only fifteen seconds left before midnight.

Then he starts counting out loud, in a teasing lilt that he knows is sure to pique your curiosity.

“What exactly are you counting down to?” You ask, puzzled.

You’ve sobered down quite a bit now, and you were ready to go sleep. He ignores you though and continues to count. By 5 seconds, you’ve stopped walking, although you’re still mumbling about how rude it was of him to ignore you. He reaches up to tuck your hair back behind your ears to get a better look at your face. Your stupidly beautiful face.

“I’m granting your Christmas wish in three… two… one... Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

He cups your face. It’s cold, and he makes a mental note to make sure to warm you up with a bath once you’re home. You gasp a second later and wrap your arms around him, staring up at him with a wide grin plastered on your face.

“Ohmygoddidyoubuymeapuppy??!!!”

He snorts and it’s out of sheer self restraint that he doesn’t go on an hour long tirade on the terrible idea of buying animals as holiday gifts and how he refuses to ever partake in it. He instead channels that energy into squishing your cheeks together so you don’t say anything else that could potentially ruin the mood he’s trying to set.

“Baby?”

“Whuh?”

“You make me really happy, you know that?” His voice softens up and he gently rubs your cheeks with his thumbs.

Your wide, wide eyes are still staring at him, unblinking, but he’s been under the scrutiny of your ridiculously lubricated eyes for long enough that he’s unbothered.

“And even though you’re still kinda loopy and you definitely spilled beer on me tonight, I still want you to know…”

He pauses for dramatics and chuckles when your hands fly up to grasp his hands that still cup your face.

“Yes?” You plead with him to carry on.

“I love you. I love you so much my heart is fit to burst.”

The soft inhale of breath is not lost on him and he grins at you. The sweet smile and blush that quickly overtakes your features is easily the best gift you could ever give him this Christmas.

“Oh my god. I think my heart just nutted.”

He snorts and sighs in defeat. Right. Only you could say something like that and still make his heart leap.

“I love you too. Can we go home now, though? My butt’s cold.”

“But I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he teases.

Before you could ask what the best part was, he draws your face to his and presses his lips against yours. The warm exhale as you part your lips for him comes as a welcome surprise. You giggle into the kiss and pull him closer against you.

“You just kissed me,” you whispered as if he had committed a scandalous act.

“Baby, I always kiss you.”

“You’re right.” You grab hold of his hand and walk briskly towards your home, tugging a smiling Yoongi behind you. “Let’s go home so you can kiss me some more!”

a/n 2.0: HELLO THERE FRIENDO. how are you. happy holidays or i guess, happy day if you’re reading this in like, the summer time or something :”) thank you for reading this. did you like it? penny for your thoughts? (i will give u a pretty one forreal) isn’t yoongi the sweetest most amazing boyfriend eveerrrrr plz gush over him with me PLS

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

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Sonic Boom - S3E1

Episode title: Friendship 101

Word count: about 3000 words

Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!

(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)

[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]

[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]

Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).

He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.

Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”

The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.

Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).

Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.

And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…

...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.

And that was, obviously, when the show really began.

[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)]

[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.

The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]

[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]

Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.

Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.

“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile.

(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)

Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”

“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”

General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.

“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”

“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.

“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.

Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”

Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.

He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”

Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.

“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.

Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that.

Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”

The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.

“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.

The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails.

Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.

After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.

“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.

Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”

Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.

“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.

“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.

The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”

Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.

And he was not feeling good about it.

He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…

“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”

A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.

Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.

The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.

Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…

[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]

Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.

“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh.

“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”

Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.

“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.

“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.

The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.

Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”

“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”

There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.

Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”

The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm.

“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.

“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.

“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.

“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”

“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.

Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”

“Of course!” Amy chirped.

Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”

Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.

The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.

The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”

“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.

Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy.

“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).

Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention.

Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.

Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.

[Voice Actors:

Roger Craig Smith

Colleen Villard

Travis Willingham

Cindy Robinson

Nika Futterman

Mike Pollock

Kirk Thornton

Wally Wingert

Bill Freiberger

Original creation by:

Evan Baily

Donna Friedman Meir

Sandrine Nguyen

Bill Freiberger

Takashi Iizuka

Writer/editor:

Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse

Thank you for watching reading.]

#sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #sticks the badger #i really really hope this new format was a good idea #i just had some very clear ideas about this fic that couldn't be expressed in the usual medium of character actions and dialogue #because sonic boom is very different from the sonic games and often uses camera and music-based references #(i may not roll credits every time though- just thought i'd give it a shot haha)#anyway!#i also wanted to ask: is there a particular way people would like me to use for replying to the wonderful comments i get in the tags?#because i want to let the people who take the time to leave comments know how much i appreciate it #but i'm not sure how to go about that #any suggestions?#and finally:#next time...shadow's going to show up! i can't wait to write him #as always #thanks so much for reading!#:D #sol's fanfiction

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

Text

guess who’s back, back again

it’s time to talk about the place Dean and Sam visit in 14x20: Moriah. Yes, the -

Mirror Universe.

A very specific title for a company that creates facial recognition software.

[My deepest gratitude to @goth-dean for quickly spitting out these screen caps for me. Also -

say THAT, bestie.]

Hop on this cursed ride, after the cut!

I hope we are all now at the point where we are aware that SPN uses narrative mirrors regularly as part of its story telling structure. Just in case we aren’t aware of this, we do quickly get a bit right when Sam and Dean arrive at the Mirror Universe, when a man on a scooter appears and we get the following script -

DEAN: Nerds.

SAM: Takes one to know one.

DEAN: What?

SAM: You. Come on, man. You're always calling me a geek, but you know every word to every Led Zeppelin song -- backwards and forwards -- you can discuss in detail every major rock drummer between '67 and '84, and... you watch "Jeopardy!" every night.

DEAN: Okay. All right, yeah.

***thus further hammering in the point that this episode is absolutely using narrative mirrors.

But who are the mirrors? To find out, we have to go back to a scene from 14x19: Jack in the Box.

Cas arrives with the following news:

CASTIEL Sam. Dean. There's news. Dumah was manipulating Jack into doing those things. She told him it would please you.

***manipulation is an important theme to remember.

Dean does not care. He is still grieving and angry about Mary’s death.

***this is also an important theme to remember.

Dean reveals to Cas that they locked Jack in the Ma’lak box. He notes that Jack even agreed to it.

(and he is. the entire plot line in the first part of this episode is about manipulating Jack to say yes and get in the box).

Now, please jump ahead with me to this specific scene in 14x20 where Chuck tells Dean, Sam, and Cas one of them has to shoot Jack with his stupid little gun.

Cas wants Chuck to restore Jack’s soul. Chuck says he can’t, then he adds this (glancing btw specifically towards Dean).

***What Jack did = Mary’s death.

Cas keeps arguing but Dean is resigned -

[sorry for that atrocity spelling]

Since when is there no other way? This is manipulation. Chuck is manipulating Dean. Just like Dumah, and then Dean - in turn, manipulated Jack.

Jack is a Dean mirror in 14x20.

Don’t believe me? Have this BONUS:

So now that we have established this, let’s go back to the first part of 14x20 where we have the following chaos in the spn writer’s room Mirror Universe workspace because no one can lie.

Please look at what they specifically named the news anchor in this scene.

Why Jack? Can’t be because he is a Dean mirror amirite? Can’t be.

Also, they specifically add this. He’s always loved her.

Who at this point has said I love you to Dean (even if indirectly), but hasn’t heard it back?

12x12: Stuck In The Middle With You

[source]

Who would want to hear the I’ve always loved you?

Just to hammer in this point the scene cuts to -

This is what Dean should have said to Cas in season 15. I am once again asking why they did this. Why bring this dialogue into an episode about mirrors and narrative parallels, an episode where the characters cannot lie. Why do this? Why name the anchor Jack? Why Mirror Universe?

WHY?

I posit to you it’s EITHER

1) because the original intention was for this to be mirrored narratively in the finale

2) someone wanted it in the finale but knew that wouldn’t happen so they put it in here to show what could have been.

Dabb wrote this btw he wrote this in here. Dabb I am once again asking for a minute of your time.

“You’re reaching though,” (Jim Gaffigan voice). SPN doesn’t parallel dialogue THIS blatantly.

12x12 again:

[source] Does it?

You and me both, D.W.

***if we consider that Chuck also represents the irl network, and Chuck is manipulating here, it’s even worse isn’t it...

Anyway, that’s what I’ll be thinking about the rest of the day. Grab a tin hat and come join me.

P.S.

I humbly accept.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #hellerism #my spn meta #season 14 the season of prophecy and regret

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sunel0 · 2 years

Text

Something Dark Is Waiting in the Woods: Chapter 6

You can read it on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Kira Yukimura, Nogitsune (Teen Wolf), Dread Doctors (Teen Wolf)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magical everyone but Theo, Possession, Background Relationships, Murder, Minor Character Death, they kill the DD okay it’s fine, Familiars, Human Familiars, Under-negotiated Kink, or more like not negotiated but they are both into it, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Denial, Familiar Bond, Aged-Up Character(s), They are in university

Words: Chapter: 6507/Total: 39253

Chapters: 6/11

Huge thanks to @amatchinwater for beta-reading!

***

Stiles couldn't remember much of what happened after that. He thought that maybe the demon used some sort of sound wave thing to make the Doctors let go of Stiles, and then he was near Theo, his wolf form almost invisible in the shadows of the trees to the side of the road, on the dark ground, the Doctor near him also out of commission, and then they were home, and Theo was bleeding, and the demon did something to him, and then Stiles blacked out completely.

The kind of teleportation the demon used his magic for wasn't something witches could normally do. Stiles, for one, couldn't.

When he came back to, he was on his bed, not in the living room where there was probably a bloody stain on the floor.

His head felt like it was being hit with a hammer repeatedly, even after it had already broken his skull. Like he had been hit by a car and then it backed up over him again. Not even a car, but one of those asphalt pavers. Slow and nice and flat.

In short, he felt dead but still very much suffering. Which was unfair. No-one should suffer when they are already dead. Especially not Stiles. He wasn't that bad. He didn't deserve this.

He tried opening his eyes, but there was light, so he groaned and closed his eyes agaun, because that made his life a tad bit better.

He smelled coffee, and then there was some shuffling and some clinking, and then the bed dipped next to him.

"I know you're awake."

Stiles hummed noncommittally, and his voice wasn't even there.

"My question is, are you you now?"

Stiles cracked one eye open again, and this time it almost didn't feel like someone tried to put a nail into the back of his skull. The key word being almost.

There was a cup of coffee and a glass of water on the nightstand, and a plate with what he guessed was another absolutely terrible sandwich.

He couldn't understand why he was so surprised yesterday to figure out that Theo couldn't cook after having had experienced his sandwich-making skills. This guy was hopeless.

He was kind of afraid to taste the coffee, and he also didn't really want to check what it was going to do to him right now, so he was grateful for the option of water. It was hard to fuck up water. Not impossible, but hard, and Stiles decided to hope that Theo wasn't that hopeless.

He sat up slowly, propping himself against the headboard, leaning his head against the wall. Its coolness helped a bit with the headache, a welcomed relief, if a small one.

"Yeah," he said finally.

Well, more like croaked. He could barely call it talking, really.

Theo seemed to understand something, because Stiles could feel the cold glass being pressed into his hand.

It felt like it weighed a ton, full of lead instead of water, but he managed to lift it to his lips, his eyes shut again, and took a sip.

That helped more than anything else did so far, and he suddenly realized that he was unbelievably thirsty this whole time, so he drank the whole glass.

Then he tried to fill it again, but his magic was so drained, he didn't think he could spell a nightlight right now, and he could do it when he first got the first spark of magic.

All of him felt drained like a cut lemon after a week in a desert.

He felt like he would have felt better if he were dead. Because apparently he wasn't, which was a consolation.

"Are you sure?"

Stiles opened his eyes just a bit to look at Theo.

"Guess you'll have to figure this out."

Theo nodded slowly, taking this as an answer, a slight worried furrow to his brow, his thigh pressed to Stiles' calf.

Stiles sighed and reached to the side to grab the sandwich in his hand. He wasn't about to risk turning his head, so he wasn't looking, and it took him a couple of tries.

He knew it was important to eat something even if he didn't have any desire to put anything into his stomach.

"What time is it even?"

"Around noon. I woke up like an hour ago."

Stiles sighed. Another day without research and homework and work and…

He threw his eyes open, his brain exploding with pain immediately, so he had to squeeze them shut just as fast again.

"What about the Doctors? Were they… are they… are we…" he screeched.

That was the best way he could describe his voice.

Theo interrupted him:

"I'm pretty sure, considering how whatever you did back there sounded, you fucked them up bad, they will need time to recuperate. So we should be okay for now. My ears are still ringing a bit."

"Okay. You'll have to explain that to me later, but I'm going to trust you for now, since I did save your ass yesterday."

He heard Theo chuckle.

"You did."

There was a strange note to Theo's voice, one that Stiles could only interpret as him being weirdly touched about the whole thing. He guessed that one would be, though, so it was probably normal and to be expected, actually.

"So now, talk. You have no choice."

Theo sighed.

"Are you sure you can take it all in? There's a lot."

"I'm going to make you retell me everything again if I can't comprehend it right now."

Theo chuckled again, his voice dropping lower than usual:

"And just how are you going to do that?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have literally no options. It's not like you live in my house, eat my food, wear my clothes… You know."

"I wear Liam's shirts. And you allowed me this without asking him first, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to get him a couple of new ones and say sorry. Liam is chill. And I got you your own ones, too."

That was a lie, Liam had hardly even known chill, but he was still an adorable puppy and wouldn't mind enough not to forgive Stiles easily. And Theo didn't know it.

"Now – talk, Theo."

At least this time he didn't do whatever weird thing happened back in the car before it broke down on them and the Dread Doctors appeared.

Fuck, he will need to pick the car up. It had probably been towed away by now. Fuck. More appeared with no work being done.

Theo breathed in deeply.

And then he talked.

Theo wasn't kidnapped, exactly. He went willingly, and Stiles honestly believed that this was what happened more often than not in kidnappings, but Theo insisted that he wasn't kidnapped. They wanted to use him for their side experiments. They always targeted someone easy to lure in with a promise of strength, better younger, someone who wouldn't be missed much, for whom there would be no big search.

They kind of made a mistake with Theo, because he had been very little, and it was weird for him not to come home, so after that they sought out only teenagers and young adults.

Anyone older had too few chances of survival.

They all had the same ultimate goal of creating the most dangerous, most vicious and immoral creature possible, all-powerful and destructive. Theo didn't know how they came to it, but that they did explain. So they were fitting different parts together like a Lego, trying to see what would yield the best results.

Theo was the first success in their new line of experiments with mixing supernatural creatures together, so they kept him. They always did keep the ones that survived at least as long as they proved to be useful or until the experiments ditched them.

Then they became just a novelty decoration in the lab, put into formaldehyde like two-headed lambs.

Theo wasn't the only child they took in his town. They also took his sister. Or more like Theo lured her to them, and then watched her freeze to death in front of him, because they wanted something from her heart, and they were also interested to see how it was going to fuck him up.

At least that was how he remembered it. He didn't remember pushing her in or something, which Stiles privately thought wasn't necessarily a one hundred percent guarantee that this didn't happen.

He was the Surgeon and Geneticist's toy. The first in his line of production. Genetically modified through several operations, so he wasn't exactly a werewolf. Apparently, if Stiles had had any experience with real wolves, he would've noticed how much smaller Theo was. Being half-coyote did this to a person.

They used him to lure in more people as soon as they could safely let him out into the public without the risk of any kind of public services getting involved.

Not that it was a super long wait. After they moved a couple of times, it was absolutely safe. His parents didn't put up much of a search, Theo didn't think they would've at the best of times, and they especially didn't after the loss of their precious golden baby girl, their hope and light in life, Theo's older sister.

And Theo had done that ever since. Went into what passed as shady teenage-oriented places, acted cool, figured out which one of them would go with him, and took them to the Doctors.

And they did their thing. Most of the kids died, and even those of them who didn't, naturally wouldn't be super kind to someone who brought them to what easily might have been their death. Well, maybe there were a couple of people who found it cool, but still.

It was just his luck that were-creatures were hard to do anything with, otherwise Theo would've already gotten all possible ulcers and stomach shit from all the junk food he had lived off of for like fifteen years, Stiles thought. Because this was the only way he could imagine this going. Even when Theo lived with fake parents in a real house and went to school, Stiles didn't think those hired actors cared that much about him.

Theo was fine with the whole set-up. He didn't mind it, he got to help sometimes during the operations, which probably meant that he had learned a lot of incredibly strange and specific anatomy details that Stiles was very intrigued with but didn't ask.

Their main idea of their experiments on and off for what seemed to be a long time was to get a person possessed with a demon and make them become one. Merge. Except it was apparently tricky as hell to find a person that can hold a demon, then get a demon, then make the demon to possess the person, and these demons were usually very weak and small, because the real deal ones were hard to summon, unless they came naturally. And really, very few people actually survived the possession even by a small demon, so eventually the Doctors figured out that maybe they should try with something more sturdy than a feeble human. Something that they did their best to make the least vulnerable. At first, they tried to make specimens (the word Theo chose, not Stiles), but they weren't that stable on the best of days, so eventually they figured they should try with something they knew was stable.

And that was when Theo ran. He wasn't supposed to know, but they used to be humans once as well, an extremely long time ago, so if Theo was quiet enough for long enough, sometimes they would forget he was there or assume he had left somewhere and just talk. They conversed primarily in Old French between themselves, so it wasn't very clear, but Theo had lived with them for fifteen years and took French in basically all the schools he went to that offered the class, as long as he was going to school. He had learned some things. And he also knew that when he heard his name not directed at him, it meant trouble. Usually, those were just some experiments to check how far they can push him and his body. But they seemed to be getting bored of that, and Theo needed to be used for something. Otherwise what was his point? He was getting too old to use as a bait for new kids, so this was the best way to use him.

And then Theo also heard the words "demon" and "experiment" and he decided he didn't want to know anything else.

He shifted and he ran, and ran, and ran.

Theo said that he just thought he was running to California (because apparently that's how good his spatial awareness and feeling of direction was, that running from Utah to Cali by backroads and fields and forests, he still knew where he was running) because of nostalgic reasons, but it turned out that the magic started speaking, and the longer he spent in his full shift, the stronger in became. So it was kind of an accident that he felt it strong enough to find Stiles. It also didn't help that he apparently was born in a town literally less than an hour away from where Stiles was born, and Stiles had been choosing his best options for school not longer than a couple of hours from his father, so both of their home towns and Stiles' campus were six hours from each other on a bad day.

And that was it.

That was Theo's story.

Stiles mulled over it, and although he didn't think that Theo – staring into the wall distractedly, his hand moving in a little pattern on the bed sheet – needed to be called out, but Stiles had a feeling that Theo went for California because this was the last place he felt like he was at least somewhat at home. He didn't know if he was right or if Theo realized this, but that was what Stiles would have done probably. He would've felt so lonely and without a place if he were in Theo's situation, he was sure he would've sought out the place that felt like comfort last.

But this actually explained why the Doctors wanted to take Stiles with them immediately. He had a very clearly fairly powerful demon inside of him (which Stiles didn't understand how they could tell from just looking at him, he didn't do anything extraordinary before the last mad gambit) and he was very clearly alive, so potentially useful for them.

He didn't even know he could die from possession, not really, there was nothing more than "there are cases…" in all the books he had read so far. According to Theo, he could actually die. But maybe since the demon chose him, and this demon probably knew what he was doing with this, Sties was fine at least for now. His guess would be that the death was normally caused by the demon not wanting to be there, and his one seemed to be chill.

"What happened to those who did merge – Jesus, that's such a dumb word – in the end?"

Theo blinked a couple of times, coming back from wherever he got lost in his head, and looked at him, confused. Stiles repeated the question.

Theo scrunched up his face in distaste.

"Their body couldn't handle the magic, and they blew up. It's even harder to find magical people so their body is at least somewhat comfortable with magic, so yeah, that's why most of those cases went bad."

Stiles nodded. Another reason for Theo's illegal adult figures to want to get to him.

Wait.

"Blew up?"

"Yeah, that was a whole nightmare to clean up every time," Theo said in a mildly exasperated tone, as if discussing a dog pissing on a carpet.

Stiles drew in a huge breath. Okay. This was alright. Everything was fine.

They were truly fucked though, weren't they, huh.

Stiles rubbed his forehead.

"How long do you think it's going to take for them to get back on their bullshit?"

Theo shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm not sure. Last time something screwed with them this way was a sound cannon during one of the protests or something, I don't remember, and they were out for a couple of days. But I'm pretty sure yours was worse, considering my ears are still ringing, to be honest," Theo smirked, a bit weakly, but still.

It was better than the glossy stare into nothing and the empty distanced expression he wore while explaining everything to Stiles.

It did make Stiles feel warmer somehow.

It was nice to see Theo acting like himself, even a bit. Considering all of their previous interactions, it must've been hard for Theo to talk about himself honestly. It felt like it was hard.

Stiles hoped he was honest. He didn't have the energy to feel paranoid anyway, so he was going to take it. It made sense. And also explained a lot about Theo and his general… attitude.

They both needed so much therapy, it was impossible.

***

Since the holidays were now ending, Stiles started to freak out about the fact that he didn't do shit, not for school, not for work, and he also had the demon issue still to figure out that hadn't budged even an inch, and now there was the additional bonus of feeling the Dread Doctors closing in on him.

And then there was also Theo. But Theo was kind of the extension of Stiles now, and Stiles caught himself actually kind of feeling himself, even after such a short time, so figuring their situation out felt somehow less pressing for a second. In the way how one would put therapy after everything else in their life because it didn't seem urgent. Even if it was.

The same evening, sitting in the kitchen and watching Theo somehow manage to butcher up a frozen pizza, swearing loudly at it, Stiles was actually thinking what it meant to have a human familiar. He still felt too weak to do anything, really, so his brain finally just didn't have enough energy to run away, and he could think only about one thing at a time. And he didn't want to think about the demon.

His magic was exhausted. He was pretty sure he also had to dig into Theo's strength to pull all of that off, including apparently partially healing Theo, but Theo couldn't tell either. He had been mostly out of it since before Stiles agreed to take the demon's help. The Surgeon had started the injection they used to get rid of the unwanted subjects, and Theo said it was actually kind of a miracle that Stiles got to him in time.

Stiles' body was also exhausted, he still felt like he had been hit by a truck several times over, and then it got stuck on him and had to roll its wheels in his dead body just to get out of the mush of him.

So now he was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for another horrible meal because of course they couldn't order in, Theo, what do you think, that I'm rich, no, go learn to be useful around the house as well, not only in crazy scientists' labs.

And Stiles was thinking.

He remembered when Theo said that Stiles was not going to be able to date anymore. Really, how many people would be actually, honestly, fully chill with someone like Theo living with them full time, like a familiar would? Because he was objectively hot, (which might cause some worry) and annoying as hell, finding ways to demand attention without actually demanding attention, which Stiles has learned even in the short time Theo had been living with him.

Stiles guessed the collar was also a part of it. Being annoying and attracting attention, that was. Because while Theo did take it off when they went out and still hadn't had it on when he brought Stiles the breakfast, now Stiles could fully enjoy the little jingling sound of the metal ring on it.

He might as well had had a little bell on him, Stiles could swear. Like a kitty. Or a cow.

Anyway, Stiles didn't think there would be that many people to be willing to deal with his whole situation, and even then, and this was all before other variables in the equation, such as Stiles being willing to deal with them, and them being willing to deal with Stiles himself as a person, and them working out all together.

So, in short, Stiles might as well bury his personal life, if he was being honest, not that there was much happening at the best of times. Like a couple one-night stands here and there, but nothing serious most of the time.

How much weirder would all of this have been if he had a long-term relationship? Or even, if he had one of those that are kind of long-term, but not completely there yet.

That would surely be a whole other level of a disaster.

But now it would be just him and his insufferable familiar. How lovely. You could put them together with his father into one of those "all families are different" social ads.

But maybe Theo was right. He himself was destined to the same fate now. Maybe they should help each other out. Two bros chillin' in a hot tube jerking each other off 'cuz they are magically bound together.

Was it… ethical, Stiles guessed was the word he wanted to use, though? Doing something like that with someone who could feel his emotions and whose emotions he could feel? Although not super clearly, but still. With someone who Stiles could kill by accident by attempting too big of a spell. Someone Stiles was legally responsible for.

Maybe. He still wasn't sure what the laws said exactly about their case.

Although really, either way those laws worked only in the magical society. If Theo chose to go live into the non-magical world, he could be completely fine. It would be harder for Stiles to cut ties.

Stiles wasn't sure if familiars could get away from their witches. Or exactly how the bond worked on their side. Because on Stiles' side he had to kind of remind himself that Theo was actually a full-grown separate adult, and not his responsibility to feed and clean and take care of. Not even because of the bond itself, because it wasn't as disruptive as he had thought it should be, but because of what he had been taught growing up. Stiles was sure that a lot of it was all the books he had read about people finding their familiars.

But setting all the ethical questions aside, he would say that in absolutely normal circumstances, like meeting in a club or something, he would probably at least consider trying to hit something off with Theo. He was objectively hot (Stiles had a thing for jocks, he had to admit it to himself, even if he would rather strangle himself then admit the same thing to Lydia, who loved pointing out that he would have had a crush on Jackson if he wasn't so pissed he was dating Lydia herself. As if she thought Stiles couldn't have had a crush on both of them, which Stiles wasn't going to point out to her; in his defense, like basically everyone had a crush on Jackson at some point in some form or another, from Danny (an admission pulled out if him only when heavily drunk to the extent of believability claiming not to remember anything the next day) to freaking Liam, who was the straightest person Stiles had ever known, who managed to have a friendship crush on Jackson). He had pretty eyes. He kind of tried to take care of Stiles as best as he could.

Stiles had some very low standards, didn't he?

Although that smirk had something going, too.

Stiles looked at Theo reading the back of a nuggets pack with a very concentrated expression on his face, his lips twitching like he was that close to starting to read out loud. He definitely was handsome. Then Stiles looked at the trail of smoke starting to leak out of the oven and up to the ceiling.

"Watch out for the fire alarm," he said, sipping his coke. Theo swirled around, his expression switching to something almost hysterical in a second, and jumped to the oven, swearing.

Anyway, yes, Stiles' standards were low, but this wasn't the point right now either. Because Stiles refused to think about the actual issues.

The point right now was whether he would fuck Theo in a normal situation. And the answer was most likely yes. He didn't know if Theo would be interested in him in a normal situation, but Stiles would be absolutely down.

Or however Theo preferred it. Stiles was fairly easy to convince to do a lot of things.

Stiles' eyes slid down Theo's back, ignoring all the loud swearing, stopping on his ass, not super defined in Stiles' sweats, but it was clear that there was totally something to define.

Still not as good as Stiles', because Stiles knew he had a great ass. But anyway.

Yeah, Stiles would volunteer to do that as well.

Theo turned to Stiles with the frozen pizza in his hands, his face a portrait of the deepest annoyance known to man, not even a rich white woman whose dog pooped on her new white carpet right before a party where her oldest rival was going to be at could even begin to comprehend the annoyance Theo was feeling.

"Well, you made a crisp, congratulations!" said Stiles.

The pretty eyes Stiles thought about moved from the giant round piece of coal to drill into Stiles with what looked like a barely contained rage temper tantrum.

"I've noticed."

"Just making sure."

Theo groaned angrily and went to throw the peak of his cooking craft into the trash, although Stiles could tell that he would have loved to throw it at Stiles. Or just throw it. That's why he took out the nuggets as well. This was a good decision. Theo was learning. They were making progress.

That was great, but then again Stiles had better things to consider right now.

But what if Theo wasn't into guys? Stiles thought about it for a second and dismissed the idea. It was probably presumptuous of him but remembering basically the first thing Theo had said to him, Stiles considered this not to be an issue.

What if he wasn't into Stiles? This wasn't the question Stiles was answering today.

Stiles had to admit, the freaking collar (it was jingling so much, how Theo coped with it, with his superior hearing and stuff? Did he secretly enjoy it? The additional annoyance tactic?) did do things for Stiles as well. He had never actually explored this side of sex, but he did have some thoughts and possibly even a couple of desires. He should explore more kinks.

Theo grabbed a small red box of what Stiles knew looked like salt from one of the cupboards.

"I wouldn't use that," he said, barely enunciating.

Theo stopped and threw a glance at him over his shoulder.

"Why?"

"It might or it might not turn you into a frog. Mason isn't exactly sure."

Theo looked at the box.

"And you have it in the kitchen why exactly?"

Stiles shrugged, briefly wondering if werefrogs existed.

"Well, we all know what it is and don't touch it, so it's fine."

Theo rolled his eyes and grunted something Stiles couldn't make out, turning back to the stove.

What was Stiles thinking again? Ah yes. Right now would be a great time for kink exploration, wouldn't it?

There was always a chance Theo would appreciate some of the kinks as well. Maybe he was trying to subtly show this with the collar. Eggplant emoji, droplets emoji, winking emoji.

Or maybe he actually just liked it. Maybe there was nothing to it, he just found an accessory he liked and wore the shit out of it.

Some questions weren't meant to be answered.

He also knew that he should stop playing your local friendly home therapist and just roll with it, it's not like he could really tell Theo what to do.

Theo was turning over the nuggets on the stove this time, and it seemed to be going fine. Except if those were going to be frozen inside.

Which was fine, he was learning and everything, Stiles was planning to be patient with him.

Stiles' phone vibrated on the table, and he picked it up.

It was a message from Scott informing him that Roscoe was secured and all three of Stiles' roommates were on their way here. Stiles asked Scott to pick up spare car keys from his father and do something about Roscoe on the way here, hoping she was still there.

She somehow was, and even deemed it possible to turn on again, so Scott was driving her now.

Stiles switched to a food delivery app, choosing what he wanted to welcome his friends back with, considering he still didn't tell them about Theo and the fact that he still hadn't found a way to exorcise himself, and now has three very creepy steampunk dudes possibly coming after him at any moment.

When put like that, Stiles did have an extremely eventful holiday.

He texted Mason, who was the least likely to be driving, what they wanted for him to order, and then got a response from Liam's phone saying that they had grabbed something on the way.

With the amount they normally ordered, there would be enough for Theo as well, so Stiles wasn't really worried.

He put his phone down.

Theo put the plate with nuggets onto the table with as much force he could get away with without shattering it.

"Bon Appetit," he grunted, throwing a fork at Stiles and throwing himself into the chair down across from him with another one.

Stiles didn't really mind the fact that Theo decided they needed to share the plate. Nuggets were individual items.

He did, however, mind another thing.

"Aren't you going to add like some ketchup or cheese sauce or ranch or something? Since we are being eight-year-olds right now."

Theo stared at him.

Then he visibly gritted his teeth, stood up and took out basically all of the condiments out of the fridge, dumping all of them on the table.

"Here. Take your pick."

"You are cleaning everything up though, you remember, right?" Stiles picked up some sort of hot sauce that for some reason didn't have a label anymore and wasn't in its original bottle, but Stiles somehow still knew what it was.

He didn't even remember where it came from. By the time he opened the sauce and decided that there was such a small amount left, he could dip the nuggets straight into the jar, Theo had already finished half of the nuggets and was moving a speck of the breading around the plate with a sad expression.

"If you hadn't fucked up the pizza, you would've had more food. Stop pouting."

Theo threw his fork away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, like a sulking toddler.

"I'm a werewolf, I have higher metabolism, I need more food!"

Stiles nodded, completely understanding, slowly dipping one of his nuggets into the sauce.

"Then cook some more, there's still stuff in the freezer."

Stiles didn't think it was the best option, of course, but werewolves must be sturdier in terms of how their stomachs reacted to food (because God knows Stiles was going to regret eating this tomorrow, he's twenty-three, he's not young enough for this anymore), and Theo had to start with something, and it was a start.

Plus it looked like werewolves had bottomless pits for stomachs, and Stiles wasn't willing to provide for it.

"Why can't we just order something?" asked Theo with an intonation that clearly indicated that he was seconds away from sliding off the chair and starting to kick and scream.

This was literally like dealing with a toddler.

"Because you don't work and don't have money to order."

"I kind of didn't have the time to do anything, you know, when there are three eldritch horrors after my ass."

Stiles scrunched up his face at Theo's choice of words.

"They're literally nowhere near eldritch horrors. Stop exaggerating. Just some classic, fucked up scientist. Nothing much," he bit his nugget and chewed slowly.

Theo rolled his eyes at him, because apparently, he actually was a toddler.

How fun. To have a toddler as your familiar. Jolene had literally nothing on Theo.

They continued to sit in an annoyed (form Theo's side of the table) and mother-of-ten-under-eight-including-twins-and-triplets levels of tired (from Stiles' side of the table) silence. Stiles ate his nuggets at a snail's pace. They were pretty evenly defrosted and generally fine, so that was a win. The sauce was old and not as spicy as he would like, but still okay.

It was a lot of progress in comparison to the night's peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Stiles finished his nuggets, and no sooner than Theo put the last freshly cleaned fork onto the drying rack, they both heard the front door open.

"We're back!"

"Where's the puppy?!"

"Stiles!"

Theo's head snapped in the direction of the sounds, and by the pattern of his breathing Stiles guessed he was smelling something.

Maybe new people, like dogs did, but most likely it was the takeout.

Then it seemed to click.

"Wait," Theo half-whispered, "you haven't told them?"

Stiles shook his head.

This was going to be fun. He glanced at Theo quickly, making sure that this time he wore Stiles' and his own clothes only, nothing Stiles borrowed from Liam for him. The light pink hoodie Kira got Stiles, and he had never worn because it literally blended in with his skin, looked perfect on Theo, since it was a bit big on Stiles, and this was annoying. It was Stiles' hoodie, why did it look so good on Theo?

Liam busted into the kitchen, freezing into place immediately, his eyes round, when he saw Theo.

Theo's eyes were fixed on the bag in his hands.

Mason ran right into Liam's back.

"What…" and then he was also standing stock-still, staring at Theo.

Scott came in as well, not smashing into anyone. At least one person in this house knew how to walk like a human.

"Stiles, where's the wolf?" Of course, Scott would be the most interested in seeing the new pet. "Oh. I didn't know you had guests over!" Scott smiled his adorable puppy smile. "I don't believe we've met, I'm Scott."

Stiles was pretty sure that if Theo chose to come closer, he would try to shake his hand. Or even hug him. Stiles shuddered at the thought. They all weren't ready for this kind of a relationship.

"I'm Theo," said Theo, not even looking up from the bag.

Stiles rolled his eyes at him. It's like he hadn't eaten anything since Stiles found him. Like Stiles had been starving him.

"Liam, give him the bag, please, or he's going to jump you when you move, he's being a wild toddler today."

Liam set the bag onto the table carefully closer of Theo, and Theo immediately got into it, plopping onto the chair.

"Good thing we got more than we need," said Scott good-naturedly.

"Is that a collar?" asked Mason.

That made Theo look up from the food in his hands. He smirked, glancing at Stiles for a second, and then turned his head to the side, making sure the collar was more visible, rising his chin up a bit.

"Yeah, Stiles put it on me because he owns me now."

Mason's eyes grew even larger, jumping to Stiles now. Liam and Scott also stared at Stiles, completely confused.

Stiles rubbed his forehead. At this rate he was going to rub a hole in there. Self-made lobotomy.

Maybe then, with direct access to his brain, his life would get easier. Maybe he'd be able to look in there and figure out what was wrong with him that he got himself into all of this.

"That's not technically a lie, but he chose to wear it himself. I did put it on him, though," he watched his friends now, Liam looking mildly horrified. "Remember how I got possessed recently? Well, apparently it screwed with my magic so much, I need a whole ass human familiar. He got stuck in his wolf form, so I got him a collar, because that's what you do for a familiar," Stiles stressed the last part, sending a glance Theo's still smirking way. "And then I accidentally got him back into his human form, and he still is wearing the collar for some reason. So yeah, say hi to Theo, he's living with us now, until I die from being possessed."

Theo finally took a bite of the burrito he had lovingly rescued from the bag, seemingly unbelievably satisfied with himself.

"Also, don't believe his act, we just ate, he's just acting like I'm starving him here."

Liam took another chair, sitting down as well, fishing out a sandwich for himself.

"Where is he going to sleep?" He asked.

Theo smirked wider, but before he swallowed enough food to be able to talk, Stiles interrupted him, already sensing some more bullshit:

"With me, I guess. Oh, and he had to borrow some of your clothes, I washed everything, it's on your bed."

"Why did you need Liam's clothes?" Mason asked.

He and Scott also sat down, looking at Theo with curiosity shining in his eyes bright as day.

Theo somehow got Stiles' phone to him and was doing something on it with one hand.

Stiles wasn't sure if he had shown him the password, so he didn't know if the phone was unblocked at all.

"He didn't have anything of his own. Also, Theo has been a great asset in looking for some answers, although we still didn't get far," Stiles was going to give them all the updates in one swoop, so maybe they wouldn't be able to focus on his possession because of how distracting Theo was.

No, that, apparently, wasn't going to fly here. All the faces around the table fell and turned to Stiles.

"So you don't know how to get rid of it?"

"No idea."

"Okay," said Scott. "Tell us where you got so far, and we're going to try to figure it out from there."

Stiles nodded, sighed and began explaining to them what little answers he had so far.

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #sdiwitw #my fandom #my writing stuff

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drowningbydegrees · 3 years

Text

This started as a pwp praise kink idea. The praise stayed, but the pwp did not. Perhaps I will give it another go, but in the meantime, have 4,000 words of emotional hurt/comfort instead I guess. 😅

Read on AO3

Geralt is what Jaskier cheerfully describes as "forever years old" when he discovers that okay, maybe he is just the littlest bit affected by… actually he’s not sure what one would call this. He’s not even sure if it’s specifically what was said or just the act of being spoken to like a person in a vulnerable moment. Either way, it’s more than a little unexpected, but that’s not actually the problem. After all, everyone finds themselves unraveled by something a little unorthodox now and again, and in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t really all that weird.

No. The problem is that he learns it at exactly the same time Jaskier does, and it would be embarrassing enough if the bard were just some accidental bystander. But no, Geralt couldn’t get that lucky either. It’s very definitely in response to Jaskier and that is nothing short of mortifying. Whatever longing Geralt might privately harbor, Jaskier has never given any indication that it might be a mutual feeling, and so their companionship is very definitely not Like That.

It's a perfect storm that leads to this discovery.

The contract is a disaster in every sense of the word. Somehow, after all these years, there’s still some tiny part of him that allows for optimism, that remembers a time when he thought he could be a hero. There’s no room to be an idealist in his line of work, but the opportunity was right there. The monster was just an unfortunate curse to break. There were people who might be still alive to save. Stupidly, he let himself believe that this is the kind of contract he always hopes for, where just this once no one has to die.

But of course, that isn’t how it goes. The creature is worse for his meddling, leaving the man underneath tortured by a few seconds of horrified lucidity before the curse consumes him again. The creature dies by Geralt’s sword and as its blood drips from the blade, the witcher takes in his surroundings. It’s dark, but Geralt does not need to see to recognize a graveyard made up of all the people he failed.

Even Jaskier is subdued, largely silent on the walk back to the village. He’d had the good sense to stay out of the cave, or else maybe it was just too dark. Whatever the reason, if Geralt is granted any small mercy in this whole debacle, it’s that Jaskier is not in there among the dead, that he did not become another life the witcher couldn’t preserve.

The villagers are understandably as dismayed as Geralt is, and he makes for an easy target. He tolerates the shouting and cruel accusations. He stays Jaskier’s hand when the bard tries to come to his defense. They’re grieving people, desperate to shed the weight of their loss, and he can bear it.

The innkeeper does not turn him away at least, though Geralt suspects it has something to do with the very pointed look Jaskier is giving the man. It matters little if it means he can bathe in peace and fall into a miserable sleep and just… start over again tomorrow.

Death clings to Geralt like a film he can never quite wash from his skin, but oh how he tries. There’s an echo of blood and ichor that he just can’t shake, and by the time Jaskier comes to bring him clean clothes, he’s rubbed his forearms red.

Whatever scene he’s expecting, whatever reproach he anticipates, it never comes. He’s too strung out to put up much of a fight when Jaskier eases the washrag from his clenched fist. Jaskier gives him an uncomfortable smile that would be hilarious in some other context, waving awkwardly at Geralt’s head. “I’m just going to, ehm, your hair is sort of-”

“Covered in blood. I know,” Geralt fills in the gap in that sentence tersely. It’s not pity, not from Jaskier, but it drifts too close for comfort and the witcher doesn’t know what else to do but lash out. That’s not fair either though, and once Geralt has taken a breath he relents. “Get on with it.”

Jaskier does. Quietly even, which would seem suspicious or worrisome under normal circumstances. Geralt just happens to be too worn down to do anything but count his blessings and appreciate the silence as Jaskier works the tangles (and who knows what else) from his hair. He tries to close his eyes, but every time he does, it plays out behind his eyelids, forcing him to wrench them back open again.

“It’s not your fault. You do know that, right?” Jaskier’s voice is soft, and really, Geralt must look truly miserable for him to forgo their usual playfully scathing banter. “You did everything they asked of you and then some. There was nothing else left.”

Geralt doesn’t reply because what can he say? What could possibly wipe the memory of this colossal failure from his mind? It’s a gift of some sort that Jaskier doesn’t press Geralt to respond. He just hums a quiet tune while he painstakingly washes the mess out of the witcher’s hair.

“It wasn’t enough,” Geralt says very softly when he dredges up the will to speak. Jaskier’s thumbs rub down the nape of his neck, and he bows his head to it in silent surrender. The comfort is unearned, but he’s blank enough to crave it anyway.

“That’s not on you, Geralt. It’s like you genuinely don’t have a clue how... good you are. I mean, you’re a grumpy pain in the ass for sure, but still. You were good to the villagers even if they didn’t do a damned thing to earn it. You’re sweet to children and pets and...to me.” Jaskier suddenly seems very close, so near that when he speaks, his warm breath flits along the shell of Geralt’s ear. “I know I get on your every last nerve, and you haven’t turned me away. You might do it with a lot of scowling and insults, but you… are still very good to me.”

Geralt’s breath catches on what is definitely not a whimper, but what he’d probably classify as one if literally anyone else had made that sound. He’s been brought so low and Jaskier sounds so honest. He could have maybe gotten by without notice, but in the bath with Jaskier's hands in his hair and on his skin, there’s really no passing off the sound he makes as anything other than the desperate, needy thing it is.

“I punched you the first time we met,” Geralt points out, because he’s right on the precipice of something and urgently needs to back away from the edge. He tries glowering at Jaskier over his shoulder, but it turns out to be a grave mistake. Geralt is used to weariness and disappointment in the muted way he feels them. But this is a fragility he doesn’t know how to contend with, the brittle surface cracking when Jaskier gazes back at him like he’s anything other than a monster.

“I… probably had that coming,” Jaskier mumbles. Though Geralt has stopped looking, he can feel the shift in Jaskier’s posture suggesting that he’s sheepishly ducking his head. It’s an out of the ordinary thing, Jaskier owning his foibles, but Geralt doesn’t even get the opportunity to wrap his head around that before the bard swings a hammer at whatever defenses the witcher has left. “You’re good to me when it counts.”

Geralt doesn’t believe a word of it, but here and now he wishes quite desperately that he could. He longs to trust the warmth that slides like honey down his spine and settles at the base of it. He wants so badly to be what Jaskier names him as.

In retrospect, it’d probably be less humiliating if it were a sex thing. Jaskier has a penchant for oversharing and probably wouldn’t bat an eye. But it’s not as straightforward as that, even if the praise Jaskier wraps Geralt up in leaves him wanting. This is more, a bone deep sort of yearning that sits like a brick behind his breastbone, heavy and terribly misplaced.

The notion sneaks in that Jaskier just might see through him. He might recognize that despite the veneer of indifference Geralt puts out into the world, tonight the witcher is one stray thought away from a breakdown. He protects himself the only way he knows how, shrugging out from under where Jaskier’s hands have come to rest on his shoulders. “I don’t need help. Get out.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s brows furrow with concern. Frustratingly, the bard’s hand smooths over Geralt’s hair. Even more frustratingly, it’s a fight not to lean into the touch despite everything.

He snarls because it’s safer than the shaky thing in his chest, the thing that clings to the idea that there’s a version of the world where he is worthwhile. “Get. Out.”

Jaskier holds his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised and that’s all the more maddening.

Jaskier gives him space, to bathe in peace and then to irritably crawl into bed. It’s only when Jaskier must think he’s fallen asleep that the bard curls up around his back, nose pressed to the nape of his neck. He hasn’t earned the comfort he’s being offered, but cannot help himself taking it anyway.

They do not speak of that night again.

*****

They do not speak of it, but Jaskier thinks about it an amount that is probably just a bit inappropriate. He recounts the punched out sound Geralt made at something so simple as a little well deserved absolution. He commits the little shudder of Geralt’s shoulders under his hands to memory. But most of all, Jaskier aches at the way Geralt had snarled about it, so convinced of his own unworthiness. This bridge isn’t Jaskier’s to cross though, so he secrets away the desire to do so and satisfies himself with whatever small kindnesses Geralt will tolerate.

But tragedy is rarely a one time occurence, even in an easy life. And Geralt’s life is anything but easy. It’s only a matter of time before everything comes down around his ears again.

It’s not even a hunt this time, not a monster but a mage. It’s just a spell gone wrong, and there was nothing Geralt could’ve done to contain it. They were too close, and Jaskier is pretty sure the only reason he even made it out in one piece was that Geralt shielded him with some sign that protected him from the worst of the blast.

Now, spotting Geralt’s still form among the rubble, it’s clear to Jaskier what his safety cost the witcher. He picks his way across the rubble as quickly as he dares, fighting to keep the fear from his voice. “Geralt?”

“Ngh.” It’s a reply, if not much of one, but it’s only Geralt when blinks blearily at him a couple of times and scowls that the terror Jaskier feels begins to settle.

He doesn’t know what to say. Jaskier is tempted to crack a joke and make light of the situation. It’s how he copes. It’s just that, they weren’t alone in this building, and judging from the quietly defeated look on Geralt’s face, the witcher is already thinking about that.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal.” Jaskier holds out a hand to Geralt, but he ignores it as he staggers to his feet. “But it’s not all hopeless. Because of you, they can’t ever harm anyone else again.”

“Shut up, Jaskier.” Geralt’s expression shutters, but Jaskier doesn’t need to be able to read the witcher’s emotions to know he’s thinking about all the people that outcome isn’t good enough for. As hyper sensitive as Geralt’s senses are, Jaskier can’t help but suspect that the rocks aren’t enough to hide what’s buried within the ruins, so he tries to steer Geralt back towards their camp. There’s nothing else they can do in this place but mourn.

“Are you okay to walk?” Jaskier doesn’t like the idea of leaving Geralt here to get help, but he also doesn’t want to inadvertently make things worse.

“I’m fine.” Geralt takes a step and then another. They’re wobbly, but he does manage to stay upright.

“You sure? A building exploded with you, you know, in it.” Jaskier is sort of sorry for pressing even before Geralt glowers at him.

“I said I’m fine.” Geralt repeats himself, and there’s no progress to be made pressing any further about it.

Jaskier knows better than to offer his support despite the fact that Geralt is limping at his side. If the witcher is not actively falling over, his attempts to help are likely to be ill received. He tries very hard to ignore it, even if it makes his heart twist up in his chest, but that all flies out the window when they finally come to a stop at camp, where the ground beneath them is dry dirt rather than grass and leaves, and there’s no missing the blood sluggishly pooling at Geralt’s feet.

“Geralt. For the love of- You’re bleeding. Sit down.” Jaskier grouses, more irritated at himself for not noticing than anything else.

To his shock, Geralt sits without complaint, though Jaskier suspects that is more out of exhaustion than any sudden desire to be cooperative. With a pained hiss, Geralt works to rid himself of his armor while Jaskier gathers supplies, so maybe he means to cooperate after all. That’s either very good or very bad.

Very bad, Jaskier decides, grimacing at the deep gash in Geralt’s side beneath where his rib cage ends. It’s not a clean cut the way a claw or a blade might be, probably a product of part of a building dropping on him.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathes out, kneeling to try and staunch the bleeding enough to properly stitch it back up.

“I’m okay Jaskier,” Geralt insists. That he’s gritting his teeth on a low moan when Jaskier presses on his wounded flank is… not really helping his case.

“Great. You can continue to be okay while you sit there and let me stitch this up.” It comes out a little more tartly than Jaskier had meant, but Geralt doesn’t even seem to notice.

He does, however, sit still. That Geralt is quiet while Jaskier threads a needle isn’t out of the ordinary. But Jaskier looks at the witcher’s face and finds a great deal more than weariness there.

Jaskier lets it go at first, the task at hand more pressing. It’s only when he’s on his third stitch and Geralt is still staring miserably out towards the trees that he gently chastises the witcher. The expression isn’t an unfamiliar one, and Jaskier hates it every time. “Stop it.”

Geralt’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t look at Jaskier. “Stop what?”

“Insisting on taking on burdens that aren’t yours to carry.” There’s a needle in one hand and blood on both of them, so the tactile methods he’d usually use to soothe are no good. Jaskier tries words instead, already knowing they’ll be rejected. “It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was a great deal less awful than it might have been because of you.”

On the bright side, Geralt doesn’t immediately snap at him. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s actively stitching the witcher up. Geralt doesn’t even look at Jaskier, but his expression is stormy and tense. Jaskier bites his tongue for another couple of stitches before he decides this is a sort of misery he can’t leave alone. So, he tries again. “When we first met, you really didn’t like me. And I know you’re making a face. Stop it. Just because I ignored the fact that you found me aggravating doesn’t mean I didn’t recognize it.”

“I’m making a face because you said that all past tense.” There’s a note of what might be humor there, and Jaskier doesn’t even care if the joke is at his expense under the circumstances.

Jaskier huffs out a fondly exasperated breath. “That’s very rude, but I’m going to let it go this time because you’re bleeding all over my hands. My point is that you gave me - someone you actively disliked - coin you didn’t have to spare.”

Geralt is quiet for so long that Jaskier thinks he might actually be listening. He probably is even, but his reply is too close to their usual banter, like he can’t stomach the idea of having a conversation that matters. “With songs like that, it seemed like you could use all the help you could get.”

“Oh, haha. Very funny. I realize it wasn’t my best work.” He’s trying, really, and it’s hard not to deflate in the face of Geralt’s resistance. Jaskier stares down at his current task and that could be the end of it. But the last time they went down this road still haunts him, and Jaskier is determined to try again, hopefully without being run off this time around. “Okay, if you’re going to be like that. In the last village, you let a little girl hire you to check her closet for monsters.”

There’s a clear sense of suspicion in the way Geralt narrows his eyes at Jaskier, but all the witcher says is, “Why would I turn down a paying contract?”

“Geralt.” Despite everything, Jaskier is pretty certain he’s never loved anyone in his life as much as he does Geralt right now. “She paid you in rocks.”

“They had value to her.” It’s endearingly defensive, but Geralt is justifying himself rather than running Jaskier off, so the bard counts it as an improvement.

Regardless, it’s not the message Jaskier is trying to get across. “I know. But you can’t exactly get provisions or a room at an inn with a pocketful of pebbles. And then there was Goose Hollow. You snuck that woman’s payment back into her kitchen.”

The witcher’s nose crinkles in distaste. Jaskier knows why he did it, but Geralt seems to feel the need to remind him anyway. “She’d just lost her husband to that kikimore and she had a baby on the way. I could make do without. Not sure she could’ve.”

“Right. You’re absolutely right, and that’s what I’m getting at,” Jaskier says, giving up on the idea that Geralt might have at least enough sense of self worth to reach this conclusion on his own. That’s clearly not the case, so Jaskier opts to connect the dots. “These are things you acknowledge, things you act on, because you are kind.”

Annnnnnnd there it is, the point at which Geralt can’t pretend he doesn’t understand what Jaskier is trying to communicate. He growls, shifting like he means to get up. “Fuck off.”

Jaskier pinches Geralt’s hip, well below where the bruising from the wound stops. “Do. Not. I have a needle literally stuck through you. You’re a good person whether you acknowledge it or not, so stop being dramatic and trying to flounce off just because someone said something that clashes with your self loathing.”

The scowl doesn’t leave Geralt’s face, but by some miracle, he does settle. “Oh, I’m dramatic?”

Bowing his head to hide a smile, Jaskier goes back to work. He wishes he could stay made for even a moment, but there’s just nothing for it. “What with the growling and glaring and stalking needlessly off into the trees or whatever nonsense you were planning? As someone who is personally very well versed in dramatics, yes.”

There’s no scathing or witty retort so it would be easy to assume Geralt is ignoring him when Jaskier is met with silence, but the bard knows better. It’s subtle things, an evening out of Geralt’s breathing, a shift in his posture, and though the seconds drag out, stretched like taffy, he’s not surprised when the witcher says very softly. “I didn’t know you’d noticed.”

And oh, that hurts. Not for the sake of Jaskier’s own feelings, but for the fact that Geralt could share shitty tavern food and too small inn beds and miles of open road for so long and still not recognize that he matters. “Of course I noticed. I always notice you.”

“I don’t think the rocks are going to make for a very interesting song,” Geralt says, and while his tone is clearly meant to convey sarcasm, his gaze is soft and searching, and oh to hell with it all.

“For fuck’s sake. It’s not for a song. I notice because I love you, you absolute twit.” There’s that strange, wounded sound again. The one that makes Jaskier want to wind his arms around Geralt’s shoulders and draw him close. Last time, that had been the preface to Geralt shutting him out entirely, but it doesn’t happen this time. Geralt hardly seems to notice when Jaskier rises after tying off the thread. His whole body goes stiff when Jaskier succumbs to the urge to embrace him, but somehow this time Geralt doesn’t immediately pull away.

With bated breath, Jaskier waits for the awkward stiffness to become a full blown retreat, because surely Geralt does not want his feelings, but the demand to be let go of never comes. Surrender is a quieter, subtler thing than any resistance Geralt put up. It’s a gradual release of the tension holding him bow string taut in Jaskier’s arms, a furtive embrace as Geralt’s hands find their way to curl loosely in the back of Jaskier’s chemise. With a sigh Geralt’s head drops to rest against Jaskier’s shoulder.

Jaskier is prepared, he thinks, for that to be the end of it. There are no strings attached, no conditions riding the tails of his affection. That Geralt didn’t immediately turn him away, that the witcher relents enough to let Jaskier be a source of comfort is enough. Geralt sags a little bit against him and Jaskier commits the feeling to memory, idly smoothing his hand over Geralt’s hair.

It’s still there when Geralt pulls back to look at him, eyes wide with something Jaskier might describe as wonderment.

“What?” Jaskier doesn’t give himself permission to hope because that’s not what this is about, but his heart takes off anyway, hammering away in his chest.

“You weren’t afraid of me, even though the only point of reference you had was the stories.” There’s a question in the quiet words Geralt speaks. And Jaskier does know what he means. Rumors of the Butcher of Blaviken were far reaching, and Jaskier had no way of knowing the accuracy of them. So why?

“Well, you’re not nearly as scary as you think you are,” Jaskier says lightly, and then, because the question is there, but Geralt looks afraid of the answer, he adds with a sheepish smile. “Also, you were the one person not throwing food at me, so that was a point in your favor automatically.”

Geralt says nothing at first, but his mouth turns unhappily downward. Jaskier expects annoyance or anger, is used to those things, but this is more akin to grief and he doesn’t know what to do with it. In the wake of it, Jaskier is almost relieved when Geralt speaks again.

“You learned how to do this because we travel together.” Geralt gingerly pries one of Jaskier’s hands from his back, laying it delicately over his wounded side, and no. No, that last point was definitely easier to address. They should go back to things he can make jokes about.

“So what?” Jaskier says, though it comes out more like a croak. And his chest might as well be split open on the faint smile that coaxes from Geralt.

Curious. Jaskier can feel Geralt’s thumb sweep back and forth across his chemise, almost like the witcher is nervous. “You hate blood.”

He’s already said the most terrifying part, and he doesn’t know what Geralt thinks, but the witcher hasn’t left. So really, Jaskier wonders, what is there to be frightened of? “It would be very unfortunate for the both of us if something happened to you.”

“That’s not… I don’t think you’re hearing me,” Geralt mutters, mouth slanted off to the side.

It won’t do. Jaskier has no wish to be a source of frustration when he’s trying to be a comfort, so he lets himself smile and brushes Geralt’s cheek with his knuckles. “I’m sorry. Would you tell me again?”

Jaskier barely gets the words out before Geralt’s lips are brushing, feather light, against his. It’s over as abruptly as it started though Geralt lingers with his forehead pressed to Jaskier’s and his hand cradling the bard’s cheek. “I notice you, too.”

He could live in this moment, Jaskier thinks, just sat here knowing he’s not alone in the things he wants. The circle of Geralt’s arms is a lovely place to linger, so Jaskier lets himself have it even as he says, “In case you missed it, I’m done if you’re still feeling the need to go stomping off in the woods to fume.”

Geralt rarely laughs at anything, but the amused snort Jaskier gets for his trouble is close enough. Even better is the kiss that follows, slow and sweet and full of promise. “Well, someone very obnoxious and very... dear told me it was dramatic, so I thought I’d maybe stay here with you instead.”

You can find the rest of my Witcher fanworks here. <3

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt whump #emotional hurt/comfort #Guest starring Geralt's egregious lack of self-worth #mentions of blood and injury #In which life is hard and Geralt would very much benefit from a hug #conveniently Jaskier would also like to give him one #my fic

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.

“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“

“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”

“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”

She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.

Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”

Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”

“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”

“You’re too young to have this energy.”

Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”

“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.

“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.

“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.

“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”

“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”

Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”

She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.

It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.

And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.

She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.

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

The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.

The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.

Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.

“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.

“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”

“But I still don’t understand it though.”

“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”

“Meanie!”

A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.

Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”

“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’

Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”

“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”

Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”

Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.

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

The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.

“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.

“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”

“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.

“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.

“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”

Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.

“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.

“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”

“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”

Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.

“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”

“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.

Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.

Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”

As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.

Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.

Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.

“You like Sakura.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”

“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.

Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”

“Oh shit.”

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

“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.

“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.

“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.

Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”

Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”

“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”

“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”

“Ramen and…..karaoke?”

Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”

“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”

Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”

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

Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.

“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.

“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.

“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.

“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.

“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”

This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.

And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.

When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”

“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”

Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”

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

“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.

Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”

Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”

He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”

The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.

“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.

Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”

Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.

“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.

“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.

“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”

“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.

Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”

She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”

“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.

“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.

“Turn around…” Naruto sang.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.

“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’

Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.

Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.

“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”

Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”

Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”

Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”

In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”

“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.

“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”

“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”

Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”

She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.

“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.

“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.

She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.

“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.

“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.

“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.

The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”

“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.

Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.

“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #kakasaku #narusaku #anime fanfic #fanfic #sasusaku fanfic

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cellard0ors · 3 years

Text

Fic: Little Bit Hot, Little Bit (Bitter) Sweet

For @peachworthy ,who asked about Link's ennui when it came to his bachelor party and its lack of strippers. (Warning for infidelity)

"So, what was that about?"

Link and Rhett are back in their office, gathering up their things. The Mythical Crew has already checked out for the day, leaving the two lifelong friends alone and Rhett is looking at Link inquisitively after posing this question.

Link, not meeting his eyes, is idly adjusting the zipper on his laptop bag, "Don't know what you mean."

Rhett rolls his eyes, "Of course you do. You got all weird when we analyzed that one organizational pic. The one for the bachelor trip. Why? Was it cause I got another point?"

Link hasn't redirected his attention from the bag, so Rhett presses on, "I can't help that I smoke you at these things, man."

"It wasn't that," Link cuts in neatly, words practically overlapping over Rhett's, "It's..."

He shrugs helplessly, "Silly."

"It ain't," Rhett argues, "Not if it bothers you this much, so," he gestures to him to continue even as he says, "Go on..."

Link sighs and finally looks away from the bag, putting it to one side. He sits on their couch and flaps his hands," Look, I was just thinking back on my bachelor party and how it wasn't that big a celebration and it just-? I don't know...brought me down? It's just that there are a finite amount of things you can experience in your life and I guess I just've been feeling like I missed out on a lot."

"... because you didn't have strippers?"

Link levels Rhett with a look at that, but Rhett counters with his own, "Look, bo - we both got plenty of time left. Is that it? This some kinda midlife crisis thing? Cause I know Lily's going to college has left you feeling a lil'-?"

"I'm not having a midlife crisis," Link returns in a slightly waspish tone, arms crossing, "I'm simply recognizing things I missed out on "

"Link, if...if you want to go to a strip club-?"

"Christ," Link hisses with a surprising amount of annoyance - so much so that Rhett bristles at it, surprised and hurt until Link drops, "I don't want that. I just-? I want-?"

His voice drops in volume, soft and sad, "I just want to feel special."

Rhett blinks in shock. He opens his mouth, closes it. He's at a complete loss on how to answer, which a relatively new experience for him. Luckily, Link is more than up for filling in the silence, "Ain't like I need a stripper for that... albeit someone taking off their clothes for my enjoyment is a nice benefit, but..."

Rhett just stands there. Looming above Link, thinking and silent and Link shrugs again, rubs his palms over his knees, "Been married for forty three years... getting to damn near fifty and I don't regret a second of it, but it's-? It's nice, y'know?"

He sighs and tips his head back so it rests against the couch, eyes closed, "It's nice now and again to think of yourself as... attractive. Special."

The silence stretches out and Link shakes his head, "Man, just-? Just ignore me. I'm talking crazy, I'm talking-!"

Link's words are cut off by the sound of music coming from their blue tooth speakers. It takes him a minute to recognize it and when he does, his head shoots upright lightning fast, eyes wide, because it's ZZ Top.

It's not the kind of tune they normally listen to, but as Billy Gibbons starts singing for someone to give him all their loving, Rhett starts shaking his hips.

It's overly theatrical and he's toying with his shirt, lifting up the hem this way and that and Link bursts into giggles. Is his friend serious?

Apparently he is, as he starts making 'come hither' motions to Link and Link, still laughing, shakes both his head and hands, because no way is he going to get up and dance with this lovable idiot.

Rhett, undeterred, shifts his attention to his shirt again – whipping it off in one smooth motion before raising it one handed above his head, spinning it in crazy circles.

Link, seeing now exactly what his pal’s intentions are, begins to hoot and holler, clapping as if watching a real strip show. Rhett makes sure to toss the shirt at him and Link catches it easily.

He fawns over it dramatically, fanning himself and going as full ham as he can. Rhett’s nose scrunches up and he bends over laughing, clutching at his knees a moment before tossing his long hair back, a near perfect replica of a professional stripper tossing back her locks around during a routine.

He spins on his heels and kicks off his shoes clumsily before turning back, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off with as much skill as he did the shirt.

Once again, he tosses the discarded article of clothing at Link, who this time tosses it aside as if it’s an annoyance. There’s Rhett, in his boxer briefs and socks, shaking his booty at Link and it’s – without a doubt – one of the greatest things Link has ever seen.

Absolutely hilarious and silly and just the thing to snap him out of his blues.

As Link starts pretending to ‘make it rain’, Rhett dancing within the fake flurry of bills, he wonders idly if Rhett is going to climb upon his lap.

If he’ll embark on some faux lap dance or try to find something that he can work as a pole, but instead Rhett backs up and Link can’t help but snort, pumping one fist as he brusquely cheers, “Back dat thing up!”

Rhett stops again, chuckling, and Link breaks down as well, the two losing themselves to laughter. Link suspects at any moment Rhett will stand upright and resume a more conservative mien, but instead Rhett literally waggles his ass near Link and Link can’t help but pretend to spank him.

To be fair, he kind of really did spank him in that video they did – what’s so different about this?

Well, it turns out it is different, because when Rhett unceremoniously seats himself upon Link’s lap, his back to Link’s front, things are...not exactly the same.

Okay, so, yes – they did this in that same video – however, in that video, it had all been for show and Rhett hadn’t been…so…fully seated. Much less…grinding.

He’s grinding joyously on Link’s lap, completely unaware that this has just gone a wee bit too far, because yeah, the heat of him? The feel?

…oh boy.

Link’s…’not so’ little Link notices. And then some. Rhett’s rocking against him in perfect sync with the thrumming bass of the song and it’s been awhile since Link has felt this kind of special. Both he and Christy have been busy with this or that and this is…ahhh…

Rhett really works himself downward, creating a fantastic friction between his ass cheeks and Link’s burgeoning erection and Link closes his eyes tight, ready to speak up when Rhett knocks back against him some, tone throaty, “This working for you?”

“Rhett…” Link chokes out and Rhett, having yet to clearly recognize any troublesome signs, just gives him the sauciest grin, “Thinking it’s working for me. Working up a good ol’ sweat – might have ta take this act on the road, see if Jes-!”

“No,” Link grunts, because…he can’t think about that right now. He can’t think about anything. Instead, he grabs a firm hold of Rhett and does his best to halt his movement.

Rhett makes a questioning sound and then? Then he flushes. His cheeks grow fully crimson, green eyes wide as he pushes back just that little bit and he lets out a quiet, ‘Oh.’

Link nods. Rhett stops his movements completely. Link sits there in horrified humiliation, waiting for the hammer to drop, but then? Then Rhett does something completely crazy.

Crazy, immoral – absolutely nuts.

He…starts moving again.

This time with…intent.

He circles his hips and rocks backwards and Link lets out a choked sob, confused and betrayed and yet…unable to deny himself. His grip moves to Rhett’s hips and they’re surprisingly full. They fill up his sweating palms perfectly and Link can’t help himself.

He curses and prays to God equally as he locks down on Rhett and thrusts up. His rapidly swelling dick reaches its maximum hardness and – even through all the layers – he swears he can feel that sweet spot between Rhett’s cheeks – feel that hidden spot, that entrance, that-!

Link’s head knocks back on a full throttle moan and Rhett is not helping as he swallow thickly, muttering his own curse and…moving again.

Rhett is moving again.

And then so is Link.

They start working against one another – Rhett bearing down, Link thrusting up and the air fills with the sounds of their thick, heavy panting – whimpers and moans and Link knows his grip on Rhett has to be bruising and he wants to ease up, wants to relax it, but he can’t, he can’t.

He can do nothing but chase after this vicious, hungry pleasure and it’s like a beast inside of him has been awoken. It snarls and bears its fangs and bears down on its prey with full force.

What had started off as stupid fun has turned into a charged, erotic moment beyond comprehension and Rhett gasps Link’s name, gasps nonsensical things – filthy things.

And when Link hears something along the lines of ‘can practically feel you in me’ he loses himself entirely. With a sharp cry, his body releases – his cock throbbing with endless ecstasy as wet, hot heat fills the front of his drawers As his cock exerts itself, spilling his seed, balls pulsing and it’s so good, so good, so good.

It takes him awhile to recognize he’s chanting this helplessly into Rhett’s back as he thrusts up into him. As he cums and cums and he’s never had a climax like this.

One that leaves him blind, deaf, and dumb to everything. But then -just as wonderfully as the spell washed over him – it washes away.

And he’s cold.

And he’s ashamed.

And he’s…fuck.

The fact his next thought is that he wants more just makes him feel even worse and then Rhett slowly peels his fingers away from him.

The force Link used to hold Rhett in place is horrifying to him and he wouldn’t be surprised if Rhett never forgives him for it, if it wasn’t for the fact that – when Rhett rises – he’s clearly aroused.

His own underwear is tented by his obviously full cock and he turns to Link and licks his lips, eyes bright and hot as he husks, “Be back.”

Rhett disappears into their shared bathroom and Link has no doubt about what he’s doing in there. Not that Link is going to wait around to find out. He immediately springs from the chair. He springs from the chair and flees – flees because that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Nothing like that was ever, ever supposed to happen and his whole body is still humming with the afterglow of pleasant release and yet his eyes are burning with unshed tears because – what has he done?

What did he do? What did they do?

He just wanted to feel special and now?

Now, he feels nothing.

#rhink fic #snippet #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

And Everyday was Overcast.

Part One : Hammers and Nails

Billy needed someplace to go when the grave was desecrated.

When his eyes unglued themselves, peeling off eyelashes in their wake, when the earth was overturned, torn and left hanging like shreds of old fabric; Steve had been there. By some miracle he had been consumed like he always was, sat thinking by a plot that had grown yellow flowers to blanket Billy in his eternal sleep. And maybe it was those small visits sheltered between morning runs and eight hour shifts stocking the horror section that Billy had come back.

From the grave. From the brink.

The Earth started vibrating, spidery cracks turning volatile, and Steve was met with ocean blue. Red rimmed eyes locked on his face, hands reaching and gripping. Nails digging in as Steve wrapped Billy's grime covered shoulders in his own jacket. Rubbed the chilled skin of his arms, looked in his eyes, and took him home.

Someplace Billy could wash the day from his skin.

The blonde haired boy who had turned from human to creature and back again deserved something more than what he was left with. He deserved warm meals, and sunshine on his skin, and soft bed sheets that opened like a celestial sky when Billy felt like shelving the enormity of what he had discovered. What waited after death.

Steve wanted that for him.

Not happiness, not closure, exactly, but something close to it.

At the root of it all, Steve knew Billy should feel safe. Welcome and warm and comfortable, in the house that Steve’s father had built for his mother all those years ago when she was plump and round with child. Steve felt like his father that day as he carried the last box over the threshold and took in the rigid, tense line of Billy’s shoulders.

He let the moment rest. Let it breathe, as his father always instructed. “Do you think you could feel safe here, Billy?”

The air sat heavy. Cold and wet and warm, somehow, like the morning after a night of heavy rain. Billy sucked in a sharp breath and pivoted slowly, face reverent, as if standing barefoot in a cathedral among gods and heroes. Met with divinity.

Instead he got Steve.

Just Steve, trying not to stare at the lone curl hanging over Billy’s forehead when he offered a tight, controlled smile. “It’s fine.” Billy said, only.

Steve tore his eyes away. Focused on the second story banister to stop his gut from falling through the floor. ”Fine? As in, I would rather eat my own toenails than live here, fine or, like. It's okay, I don't mind it here, I might even like it someday, fine?"

Billy adjusted the strap across his shoulders. “It’s just what I expected it would be.”

Steve shook his head. “What’s that mean?”

"Relax, Harrington, it's." Billy turned again, eyebrows scrunched together. “Its. Pastel. And huge. Obscenely decorated—“

”My mom had it professionally done before they—“

”It was built for a happy family with lots of kids. Lots of love, but now it's. It feels. Lost.”

Billy had started saying things like that.

Heavy, saturated, impossible things that left Steve scrambling. Wishing for the intelligence to absorb the meaning rather than question it. Steve rested the box at the foot of the stairs and offered a smile to the second story. Runoff for the pools of blue that looked on.

"That's a lot of adjectives. I can get you a hotel, maybe. Or an apartment. I could cosign, I know they gave you a pretty penny and you could probably afford your own, but. I could. I would." Steve said harshly. "For you. I would."

"It's fine here. It's okay."

Steve felt like a science experiment. Egg boy with three heads and ten legs or something. Suckers on the tips of his thumbs, the way Billy studied him. Steve counted the freckles on Billy's nose--one, two, three, four--trying to stay afloat.

Dinner was made every night though Steve never saw it happen.

The cookbooks sat alphabetized over his mother's antique bar cart on that little periwinkle blue shelf. He'd come home, every night, at six on the dot, to a set table. The mixing bowls were always clean and put away, counters wiped and ingredients stored neatly on the shelves his pantry, but the wooden spoons spelled it out for Steve, still shifting from dark to light as they lay drying on the dish rack.

"You don't have to make dinner, you know." Steve took another bite of Salisbury steak, furious that it tasted so good. Like love soaking into his skin.

Billy shook his head. "I want to."

"I know, I'm saying it's okay if you decide not to, one day. Like if you get caught up reading. Or if you can get Max to drive you to the history museum, or if you--"

"It's the least I can do."

Steve hated that. He let his fork clatter to the table. "I'm not expecting repayment for this."

"I'm not a freeloader."

"And I'm not an asshole." Steve deadpanned, lifting a finger that sewed Billy's smug lips together. "Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever you were thinking, with that clever glint in your stupid blue eyes."

Billy cracked his knuckles, clearly fighting a smile. "Never thought you noticed the color of my eyes, Harrington."

"Yeah, sure." Steve stood, gathering the plates and forks and knives from the table, his own eyes counting primary threads. "Can see those things from space, Jesus." He finally looked up, at Billy's curiously pink face.

Pink lips, cheeks, nose.

Steve gripped ceramic. Swallowed against a swell of guilt. "You don't owe me anything, Billy. I like having you here. I want you here."

Billy gave a simple, controlled nod.

Steve got used to it.

The shack wasn't built until the doctor told Billy that he'd probably wouldn't remember all of what happened. The big things would stick out, neon greens and blues against the forest head, but Billy shouldn't be too hard on himself if the important things got thrown away.

And some of those jagged little pieces were there. The bad things. Anger and hatred, both for self and world, left hanging on the cliff of who he was now. Everything that had formed Billy Hargrove--the person he was, the person Steve had pretended not to notice--were packed away. Soft, silky emotion covering knives left dull and rusted in their drawer.

Billy remembered like flashes of lightening across the summer sky--sudden and then gone. Here and away. He remembered Hawkins high and Max who'd grown six inches in three years. Dustin who had been wearing that stupid shirt when the mall burned down.

And Steve.

Always Steve, sat next to him. A foot away at first and then holding his hand, later, when Owens said Billy should be kind to himself. Gentle.

He wasn't.

And he didn't come out of his room for three days after that, after the wall was placed in front of him. The crack under Billy's door always keeping Steve at bay. Trapped behind the starting line. He paced around on the carpet, lifting his fist and letting it fall again, never breaking up the silence.

Billy was crying.

Billy never cried, anymore, but he cried that night and Steve felt helpless. Pathetic and stupid and useless, locking himself in his father's study and trying to formulate a plan, just like Owens had told him to when the sun fell on a world without Billy Hargrove and then suddenly rose again, set anew.

Set crooked when Billy stormed from the hospital room, slamming doors that echoed like rolls of thunder in his wake.

Figure out a way to help him.

Sterile, eerie white walls stared back at him as Steve shrugged his shoulders on the third day, aluminum hospital chair groaning beneath his weight.

I'm not sure how to do that.

You don't have to do anything. Owens said. Just help him get the emotion out. Let him write, draw, sing, dance, whatever he needs to assist in telling us his story.

Potato casserole and red wine bore witness to Steve's leap of faith. Billy turned away from the novel he had tucked under his arm when Steve got home from work that day, eyes curious. "Spit it out, Harrington."

"I'm not sure what you--"

"You've been giving me the side eye since you got home." Billy turned the page in his book, still managing to read both it and the room as he urged, "Tell me what's wrong."

And nothing was wrong, and.

Everything was wrong. Steve leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Do you want to come with me to the art store tomorrow?"

Billy frowned. "I don't need anything from the art store."

"It's not always about what you need," Steve reasoned, patting his mouth with a napkin. "We could get stuff you want. That's all, just pretty things. Nice things. It could be a treat."

"Paper and scissors are considered a treat?" Billy cocked an eyebrow. "I do love touching shit, it's one of my favorite hobbies."

Steve scrubbed at his mouth, swallowing down against a big, fat, crooked smile dripping with affection. "C'mon, it'll be fun. We can get whatever you want; clay, oil pastels, acrylics--"

"I wanted to check out the library tomorrow."

"You go everyday, blue, you're a regular bookworm."

"So?" Billy demanded, taking another bite of casserole. "I like to read. Just 'cause you can't doesn't mean the rest of us have to hold back." He grinned, low and slow. "Don't let your jealousy turn you into a tyrannical landlord, pretty boy."

"God, you're the absolute worst."

Billy turned back to his novel. "The art store will just inspire me to paint nudies."

"So paint them." Steve challenged.

Bait. Hook and line.

"You gonna pose for me if I let you buy out the joint?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe once, if you look at the easels while we're there."

"No shit?" Billy leaned forward, biceps flexing in his cutoff as he stuck a polaroid of a smiling blonde woman between the pages of his novel. "The fuck is this about, Harrington?"

"I'm worried."

"That you'll take me to a crafts store and I'll put you out of house and home? Reasonable concern, I guess."

"About the diagnosis, dipshit. About you." Steve gulped down the rest of his wine. Made sure every last drop had seasoned his words before any were said aloud, where they might do damage. He let the glass rest on the table between his fingertips, stem rolling from pad to pad. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You haven't been the same since--"

"I got hijacked by a space demon or crawled out of my own grave?" Billy shrugged, picking at something in his teeth. "Be more specific."

Steve fiddled with the handle of his fork. Hand picked his words. Refined the meaning. "Yes, and. Both."

Billy didn't say anything for a while and the room finally settled. Falling fast asleep, thick with inertia and silence until the book was opened once more and Steve went back to digging through his casserole, picking at the spring onions.

Letting the moment breathe.

Until, finally. "I feel like I could crawl out of my own skin."

Steve tripped over himself to get those blue eyes on him once more. "That's understandable--"

"I feel fucking useless." Billy snapped, voice cracking in two, and. Suddenly Steve couldn't look at him. Couldn't bare to see his face. "I'm trying to replay what happened. Every second, I'm trying to figure out why. Why me."

Steve counted the primary threads in the table cloth. One, two, three. "You can't go on asking yourself questions like that."

"I can do what I--"

"It wasn't your fault, Billy. Any of it."

"I'm not talking about the Fourth of July, I'm talking about. Death. I'm talk about what comes before and what comes after and how they're the same." Billy turned the page in his novel furiously, eyebrows scrunched together. "I never thought they'd be the same. It's like I've started over."

Steve couldn't possibly understand, but.

He watched pools of blue scan the page. Took measured breaths, never pushing until Billy was ready to share more. Until he tossed the book on the counter and sighed, head buried in his hands. "I don't understand how I got here."

"Easy," Steve whispered. "That's easy. You were born from love--"

"My parents aren't in love anymore."

"But they were, once." Steve shook his head. "When you were made. They loved each other, and they loved you, and your life was full of love that never made sound but it was still there." Steve willed Billy to look at him. Willed the skies to turn blue again.

They didn't.

Billy sighed, low and slow. "Did love bring me here again?"

"I guess so."

"Who's love?" Billy demanded, leaning forward into the table and crushing his novel where it lay against light oak tabletops. "Who loved me enough to bring me back here? To wish for me."

And.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to say. Lines he wanted to map out, directions that lead from A to B and back again, but it didn't seem useful. Didn't rest important, as Steve took the novel from its place on the table and smoothed worn pages, tucking the polaroid in its place. "I'm sorry things feel weird for you." He said softly.

Billy grabbed the book, staring down at his casserole. "'S not so bad, I guess."

And, for Steve, that wasn't good enough.

Billy worked mostly in charcoal. He painted nightmares, and doorways into the past, delicate, swirling lines telling a story that made Steve's heart ache to see. To hear, with every drag of material across fruited canvas'.

Steve asked him about it, once. Over dinner, with the lights turned low. "Why do you paint such horrible things?"

And Billy had smiled. Bright and true. "How's that?"

"Y'know. Black scabs and eyeballs melting out of skulls and sliding down the ridge of people's faces, and--"

"It's what I see." Billy replied, voice soft. Measured. "It's what follows me around."

So Billy spent every hour locked in his shed, curls tucked over a growing body of work. Fingers turned rotten with charcoal soot as he made sense of what happened.

Steve liked to watch him work.

Liked to see the tension ease more and more from the strong shoulders that travelled beside him up the stairs each night. Steve felt the dig of each pencil in the crevice between his ribs when Billy finished masterpiece after masterpiece.

Still, it wasn't enough.

Along the ridges of creation, therapy lay half buried in the sand. It was state mandated, that Billy go and learn how to deal with the things charcoal couldn't straighten out for him. Like the nightmares, and the migraines that kept him from eating dinner at the table when June gave way to July.

Steve worried. Constantly, fervently, but Billy refused to go, always wiping his hands on the powder green apron Steve got for him at the art store, and insisting, "This is a form of therapy." Billy gestured around the room. To the mountains of loose sketch papers and half finished canvases that lay strewn across every surface. "This is how I cope."

And it was.

And it happened the same way every time.

Things got bad for him and Billy would disappear into his shed. Steve would come home from the office to find that his mother's prized Thomas Kincaid collection had been replaced by Billy's work. It was haunting. Sick and twisted and so, so beautiful.

He found himself standing and staring at it for hours, eyes tracing over the swirling lines of purgatory.

It made Steve feel helpless, but.

Still, Billy refused to go. Still, he buried himself in his work. Still, he painted himself into a hole.

The path toward recovery was littered with charcoal drawings until it wasn't.

Until Steve came home one afternoon to find Billy talking with a little boy who had his throat cut open.

#harringrove #psychological horror #idk man i just needed to get the words OUT #for Lis <3 #happy birthday honey bee

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thcweasley · 3 years

Text

Magical

PAIRING : Fred Weasley X Y/N

SUMMARY : After war, Fred trying to make things back to normal again

WARNINGS : none? shitty fluff

WORDS : 1.6k

A/N: i reposted this cos something went wrong lmao.

Im not sure why i really like the whole idea of Fred X Muggleborn!Reader lmao. i know its autumn in most places, but its been super duper hot here lately. Also this might not be 100% accurate of how things supposed to go, but i just got an idea after watching what not to do at the beach. so I hope you enjoy anyways.

AND THANKYOU FOR THE LOVE ON MY LAST FIC OMGGG. Yes ill upload the 2nd part soooooonn!! so don’t you worry~

“Lets go lets go!!” Fred said clapping his hands, signing you to move faster.

“yeah yeah” you mumbled.

It was a month after the war yet everything didn’t seem to falls back to normal. The fact that you almost lose Fred in the battle haunted you. Even though he was still standing in front of you now, present and healthy. Still you couldn’t seem shake off the image of him dying in front of you. At the time everyone was so sure there’s nothing they can do to wake him up.

“I didn’t know you’d be this sad to see me dying Y/N” He managed to let out a laugh.

Fred insisted you both to go to the beach today. You’ve told him once that going to the beach with your family and friends was probably you favourite memory of growing up. Before everything, before Fred, before Hogwarts, before Magic. So he thought itd be fun to relive your memory with you, no wand, no spell, no magic, just the two of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this? I thought you don’t like muggles activities” you asked him swirling around your wand in front of his face.

He grabbed your wand and put it away from you “Yes of course no magic, beach day! Now move your feet before I carry you into the car myself”

“I can’t believe you actually rent a car” you looked at him in disbelief.

“Well I want it to be perfect for you” he laughed under his breath. “Look at this” He pressed a button and suddenly the roof of the car starting to fold. “Just like magic!” He grinned, causing you to laugh.

“oh what did I do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend” you leaned on to the driving seat to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“I honestly don’t know Y/N” He moved one of his hand onto your waist “But I know how you could reward me without any magic involved” He squeeze your bum lightly.

“Focus on the road, Weasley” you rolled your eyes smiling, Slapping his hand away as moving back to your position. His laughter filling the car

** Fred had taken you to a pretty cool beach. quite crowded too He found a spot and lay some towel so you can sit down.

You both lay down on your towel. Watching the clouds moving, enjoying each other arms. when suddenly someone dis-sand his towel right beside Fred and walk away.

You both sat up immediately, coughing.

“what the hell is that?” you said, with an annoyed tone, looking over to Fred. Wondering why he hadn’t say anything.

You saw Fred rubbing his eye. “you okay?” you raised an eyebrow. Confused

“uhh.. i think there’s sand in my eye” he said still rubbing his eye.

You grabbed his hand. Stopping him from rubbing his eye. “don’t rub it..” you said soothingly. “open your eyes”

he tried to open his eyes, failing. “what do you mean? I cant do it!”

“hey.. calm down” you giggled. You put your fingers between his eye, and open his eyes. You keep your fingers there to stop his eyes from blinking. you blow air in front of his eyes. Hopefully can remove sand from his eyes. “now blink”

he blinked a few times. And then look up at you. He realised how close your faces were. He held your cheek in his palm. Leaning in to kiss you. His lips warm and smooth pressing against yours.

You just smile against the lips, enjoying the moment. Until you heard a loud smack coming from Fred’s direction, causing you to pull away from him. A volley ball hit Freds head.

“sorry mate!” some guy shouted behind him. and running towards you both to pick up the ball.

“yeah no worries” he managed to force a laugh. You dropped your head to the side. Looking at his annoyed face.

“you okay Fred?” you asked him. resting your hand on his head.

“yep.. umm.. lets go for a walk”

Fred grabbed your hand, dragging you with him as he ran towards the bridge. He sat on the bridge and patted the space beside him, signalling you to sit beside him. “come on!” he smiled widely.

“Do you want ice cream?” Fred broke the silence.

“sounds great” you said as you want to get up. But he stopped you.

“wait here I’m going to guess your favourite” He scrambles to his feet and kiss your nose before walking away.

As you watched the clouds moved, you can hear the waves and some kids running around. Looking all around you, remembering the reason why you like going to the beach so much. The salty air, the sun and now you’re with the man you love the most. It couldn’t be more perfect than this.

Suddenly Fred appeared beside you. Handing you your ice cream with your favourite flavour. “here you go ”

“awwww” you looked up at him and peck his lips. “thankyou..”

You were enjoying your ice cream when suddenly Fred groans. You looked up at him and follow his eyes direction, you saw some boys running away laughing. You looked back at him. now he’s touching his head. “dumb kids” He muttered

“Oh god!” you said in shock as soon after you pulled his hand away from his head. His hair covered with ice cream. then suddenly bursted out laughing.

Fred groaned again “you think its funny?” he narrowed his eyes at you. Fred’s hair, he always sensitive with his hair.

“sorry..” you grinned. You reached your handbag and took your wet tissue. “I don’t know that your mouth moved on to your hair” you giggle lightly. Start wiping the ice cream off his head.

“It’s those lil git” he clenched his teeth.

You giggled lightly, its funny how frustrating this day has been for him. “what do you want now? Go home?” you smiled at him.

“yeah..” then he instantly added “sorry” he bitted his bottom lip.

“Its okay, Let’s go home” you grabbed his hand and ran towards the car.

“my hair, it’s so sticky” Fred said once you got inside the car.

you smiled “its cute though, smells like ice cream.”

“it is not..” He said as he started the car

“whatever” you stuck your arms out the open window, holding it straight like the wing of a plane. But then suddenly you felt a cold flickers of water land on your face making you yelp in surprise at first and then groan loudly.

“Rain?” Fred questioned, painful annoyance in his tone.

You both turned your heads up to face the sky and suddenly the droplets are falling down faster and faster, making you flinch every time it hits you. Within ten seconds, the water is hammering down.

“why it doesn’t work!!” Fred pressed the roof button rapidly. Hoping the roof would start to close itself. “Merlin!” he ran his finger through his hair.

“Hey calm down focus on the road” You replaced his hand with yours, until finally the roof closed itself.

But then suddenly the car stopped. You could see the lights on the car also went off.

“hey, we’re in the middle of the rain why the hell would you stopped?” You laughed not knowing what was happening.

“well this really a cherry on top. What a nice day” he said, sarcastically.

“wh- what happened?”

“I don’t know. Merlin, I really wished I have my wand with me” he muttered. “wait here” he said as he got out of the car.

You took out your phone. No signal what a nice day.

You got out of the car. You saw Fred was standing in front of the car. Muttering loudly. You shook your head, and ran towards him, hugged him from behind. “im so sorry Y/N I have no idea how muggle car works I don’t know how to fix this” He said as he turn himself around to face you. To his surprise you greeted him with a big grin on your face. “Why are you smiling?” he asks suspiciously, raising an eyebrow

You placed a hand on his cheek. “I was wondering… have you ever been kissed in the rain?”

Fred finally recognising the playfulness in your voice. His frown soon eases up into something less harsh-looking. “I haven’t actually,” he breathed

You closed the gap between you two, kissing him passionately. You feel the water soaking through your clothes as you’re pressed your lips on to his lips as the freezing water dripped down on you both. You grab onto his shirt, starting to shiver. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been happier. Because finally, after a whole month of anxiety, you can just focus on whats happening right now.

You finally separate lips, both catching on your breathes.

Fred strokes a stray raindrop off of your nose. “sorry, this is the worst date ever” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t think so” you pecked his lips smiling widely, he smiled back.

“are you being sarcastic with me?” he raised his eyebrow playfully.

You shook your head smiling. “For a magic-less day, it was quite magical” AAHAHA im sorry guys this was super cheesy. but.. should we make a part two where we give fred weasley the reward he deserves?

MY OTHER WORKS follow me / send request / talk to me! im lonely (if u send me anonymously maybe click here) my collaborative ford anglia playlist Christmas with the Weasley playlist

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #Mine #harry potter imagine

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