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sidespart · 3 years

Note

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough.

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning.

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman.

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder.

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time)

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back.

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound.

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit.

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff.

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE) from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor.

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling: “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly.

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton.

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc, and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue.

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ.

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

#sanders sides fic #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #Loceit #Platonic Loceit #janus sanders #SANDERs sides #YEAH THIS ONE ALSO GO AWAY FROM ME #i might write some of these scenes up properly or draw them out #this was fun #fake fic meme #sidespart writes #Anonymous

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faustonastring · 4 years

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Thanks for sending in a request @myocriontogowata ! I hope you like it! :)

My request are open!

Main six with an mc with wings!

Asra

Oh god, oh no, nonononononononononono, he did something wrong didn’t he, something went wrong, why do you have wings, how does he fix this, oh god, oh no.

It’s not that he doesn’t find them beautiful, trust me he does, it just reminds him that you will never be who you once were, you will never be the same, and he beats him self up about it, he’s never been more angry at him self, maybe if he were more careful, maybe if he were to listen then just maybe-

He has to teach you to conceal them, even if it pains you, people in vesuvia give you enough dirty looks, without the wings, if they were to see them...they won’t be enhanced by their beauty like asra is. They’ll be scared. Well most of them will. It’s just comon knowledge that people fear and dislike diffrent, what they don’t understand, so it would be for the best if they just didn’t know.

Plus not seeing you with wings all the time is comforting for asra, and don’t worry, over time he gets used to it, and tries to teach you cool tricks you can do with them, like fly, and other cool stuff,and when the time is right, he stops dreading them, he always thought they were beautiful, and now he can finally admit to it.

Nadia

She senses some weird energy coming off of you, she just can’t really pinpoint what it is, but she does know one thing for sure. She finds it enchanting. She finds you enchanting (more enchanting than her ex husband that’s for sure)

When she notices your wings, she’s shocked, she immediately wants to know why, how, if some one did this too you, does it hurt, if there’s anything she can to do help, to fix it f your unhappy with it, but she reminds you how much she loves them, every day.

She doesn’t mind if you don’t conceal them, the only time she advises you too is not have them out when a lot of people are around, or during important meetings, she doesn’t mind, but she fears other people will. And that just won’t do.

If you’re ever feeling self conscious about it, she’ll lay you down, bring you some tea some snacks and tell you everything she loves about them. She loves them. Because she does. It reminds her that your uniquely hers. And she loves that

Julian

He doesn’t notice anything strange about you. Malak in the other hand does. Julian brushes off Malak’s very loud worry. He’s always like this with strangers. But it doesn’t stop. It just gets worst. And worst. And worst.

When he walks in on you with your wings out, he panicks. More than usual. A lot more than usual. “Why-why do you have wings....can you fly? Is this some sort of trick or something...can you fix it? I might be able to help-“ (don’t let him help)

It takes him along time to get used too...which may or may not upset you at first, (it depends on how sensitive you are, really) and if he does he immediately takes it back and tries to cheer you up, asra also scorns him not matter how well your taking him brushing you off, which also seems to get through to him

Once he gets over the initial shock, he’s fine. He starts to get used to them too! (Character development at its finest!) and if you don’t believe him, he’ll tell you every reason why he loves them, he’ll write you poems, essays, books, just filled with reasons why he loves your wings. And why you should love them too.

Portia

She’s heard a thing or two...or three or four, about you. Gossip spreads far in vesuvia, but it’s pretty far fetch, don’t ya think. Some normal walking talking breathing human beings has wings, here in vesuvia? That’s crazy! Unless

When she finds out she very excitedly yells “ I knew it” and immediately picks you up, hugging you, spinning you around in circles, she’s just so excited! Her lover has wings! Wings! “Wait wait wait wait, oh my god, can you fly???!?!” (Is a little disappointed if you can’t fly, but she thinks it’s cool nonetheless)

She wants to know everything about them, if you can change their color, can you fly, can you make them grow shrink, do you have to do bird stuff, etc etc, (also warns you to not keep them out around pepi for to long unless you’re okay with getting attacked)

on that note, she encourages you to keep them out more often, so what if people stare, she wants every one to know cool you are! How lucky she is! And if your worried about any one hurting you don’t worry, she’ll protect you. She may look small but she is powerful.

Muriel

I feel like I say this almost every time, but I case you’re new (hehe heeey,) but he already knows. Every problem that asra has run into with you, with bringing you back, he already knows about, because he was the one asra ran to for help. He always will be if were being honest.

Just because he knows, that doesn’t mean he’s seen them. But he wants to. And is speechless when he does. More speechless than usual I should say. He wants to talk. To tell you how beautiful you look right now. How much he loves you, no matter what, but the words don’t come. So he’s just left there. Staring in awe.

He tells you, very shyly, that there’s no need for you to cover up your wings when your with him in the forest. No one will see you. Except for him. And he most definitely doesn’t mind. As long as your comfortable of course. And if your back hurts from hiding them all the time, he’ll gladly give you the massage if your life time!

He stares at them a lot. They’re Just so beautiful. You’re so beautiful. He a,ways thought he couldn’t have ‘nice or pretty things’ that he wasn’t worthy of those things, but here you are. His worldview starts to shift. Slowly. But still shifting.

Lucio

Like Julian, he doesn’t notice. It could honestly take him years to notice, he’s not the most....uh....smart observant person, if you know what I mean...

But when he does finally notice, he’s doesn’t beleive it. How? How could you be doing this? How did it take him so long to notice?! Can he do that? He wants wings too ya know! But most importantly, he wants to ask you one very important thing: “did you fall from heaven because you look like an angel ;)”

Role your eyes as much as you want, but he was being serious! He’s almost certain that you’re his guardian angel. Here to protect him, and help him learn and grow from his past mistakes. And if you tell him your not he won’t believe you. He also wants you to keep your wings out all the time. He wants every one to see his angel in all their glory.

Tells you to never listen to what any one says about your wings. Their appinons? They don’t matter. Only his. You’re unique. The most unique jewel in his collection. His angel. And don’t let any one tell you other wise.

Thanks for reading, (again not my best work so I can rewrite some of it if you’ll like!) I hope you enjoyed!

Next headcanon: main six with an mc that acts like a grandma!

Request are open!

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fieldfullofbangtan · 5 years

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bts imgn: taking care of them when they are drunk (friends)

holy poop this is my first ever imagine and it is WAY too long im gonna try to make it shorter in the future lol

(also im taking requests! so send emmmm)

requests are open!

✎ masterlist

SeokJin

Jin would call you at 3am asking you to pick him up from a bar. You knew that the boys sometimes went out to grab a drink but this time Jin was alone which was weird. He didn’t- or couldn’t say much more than just “(Y/N) please can you come pick me up? Im at the usual place...”.

When you got there he sat outside on a bench napping, you had to pretty much carry him to the car. He crashed at your place cause you thought him getting drunk might be because of some fight he had with the others. When he woke up he explained.

“Did I puke?”

“God I hope not...” you say worried looking around.

“Sorry... The bar had a drink called unicorn poop and it tasted like cotton candy and I think we all had one too many so the boys left without noticing I went to the bathroom...”

Just as he finished that sentence the front door busts open and 6 men run inside looking scared shitless. When they spot Jin on the couch they all sigh in relief.

“Thank god...”

( vv him being groggy af in the morning vv )

Namjoon

Namjoon can drink, everybody knows that. He is usually the one who acts the most sober and takes care of the others. But you’re not that bad of a drinker yourself. A few cocktails and a few shots is no biggie. So when you all went out one night Jin and Suga had to bring the lightweights home because they were all basically asleep 2.5 hours in.

You and Namjoon were just beginning though. After another 1.5 hours of dancing and drinking your feet started to hurt and the music was getting too loud. You walk around to try to find Joon but he is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly somebody hugs you from behind. Getting ready to headbutt whatever creep is behind you, he says

“Can we go home now pleaaaase”

You laugh at how dorky Joon is being. He’s only like this is he’s wasted. He becomes a 9 year old boy who has abandoment issues.

“Sure but you will need to let me go cause I can’t move when you are hugging me like this” you say as you laugh.

“Fine...” he says as he pouts.

The club is walking distans to their dorm so you decide to just walk with him and crash there. The 15 minute walk is filled with corny dad jokes, waves of compliments and occasional deep thoughts. You even have to save him from walking into a few lamp posts and poles.

Waking up at their dorms the day after you see a message on your phone.

Namjoon 9:30

- we had to leave early for practice this morning but we left you some Doenjang soup. thanks for a fun night out and if you tell anyone about how drunk i was last night you are no longer allowed to borrow my clothes. ily :)

(vv you are yoongiiii vv)

Yoongi

You hear someone knocking at your door at 12pm. The smart thing to do is grab a frying pan and hide in the closet, but this is not the first time something like this has happened. Yoongi has a tendency to drink when he is feeling down and with the holidays coming up, the possibility of him not being able to spend it with his family usually gets to him. The sloppy, barely audible knocks also point to it being a drunk Yoongi.

Opening the door he is looking at his feet, hair covering his face.

“Come in...”

“Im sorry you always have to deal with me when I’m like this...” he mumbles.

He couldn’t really talk about it with the others because they are most likely just as upset or stressed. It would just end in 7 grown men drinking their sadness away together.

You don’t say much. You grab a beer, a bottle of water and a few blankets from your couch and drag him with you up to the roof of your apartment buildning. Thankfully it’s not freezing cold out and your hoodie plus a few layers of blankets is just enough to warm you. You sit down on the ground, not too far in the distans you can see the skyscrapers of Seoul and above you a clear, star-filled sky. This is where you always go when you feel down. Nothing can make your problems seem small better than skyscrapers and stars.

Yoongi reaches for the bottle of beer when you swat his hand away.

“That is for me.” “This” ... you give him the water bottle ... “is for you”.

Yoongi sighs but takes the waterbottle and opens it to drink some.

The rest of the night you talk about everything and nothing, you make him promise to call you if he ever feels bad enough to repeat this and when the clock reaches 3am, Jin calls and convinces Yoongi to go back to the dorms. He hugs you goodbye and holds you a little longer than usual giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you (Y/N), I owe you”

Hoseok

Partying with J-hope always ends badly. He has a lot of fun without alcohol, so imagine him drunk. Yea he has way too much fun. He will dance too hard and spill someone’s drink, which leads to a fight. Maybe hit on someone’s girlfriend, which leads to a fight. Once he thought some other guy was Jungkook and playfully slapped him on the head, when the random dude turned around he pointed at someone else, which lead to a fight.

Usually the others can calm situations like that down, but in your case when drinking with hoseok alone, the goal was to stop those situations before they even started.

“Heyyyy that guy looks like Donald Trump” Hoseok slurrs.

“What? Who? Nobody here it over 30...” you look around confused.

“Him over there! With the orange hair!” he says amused.

“Hoseok Donald Trump has orange skin not orange hair boi get your disses right”

“HEY, HEY DONALD!!” he yells at the guy.

“HOSEOK WTF” you whisper-shout as you cover his mouth.

The guy and his entire entourage looks at us confused as Hosoek waves happily at them.

“Why are you always trying to get beaten up????”

Jimin

Jimin sometimes drink too much and it can be because he feels a lot of pressure and alcohol can help relieve that. You followed them to Japan, their first world tour destination, to see the show and they were able to book you a hotel room in the same hotel as them.

After eating dinner with all of them in Joon and Yoongis room they all wanted to sleep earlier because of the concert the next day but Jimin and Jungkook said you could hang a little longer with them by the bar.

Jungkook left after one beer but Jimin stayed with you. When you finished your first drink Jimin was already on his third. You could notice that he was feeling the alcohol because he smiled a little bit more and spoke a little less clearly

“You have a long day tomorrow Jimin, I think you should go to bed” you say slightly worried about his hangover tomorrow.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be able to sleep anyways...” Jimin says with a sad smile.

“Hm?” you look at him for an explanation.

“My anxiety hits the roof right before a concert, I have so many people I need to make proud and I will never be good enough for them...” he drinks what’s remaining in his glass. “I never feel like I’m enough compared to the others, you know?” his eyes start tearing up.

Your heart sinks and you pull him into a hug. “Don’t be stupid, everybody loves you and all your flaws. They don’t expect you to be perfect, they expect you to be human.” You grab his shoulders and push him up from your embrace, staring at him. “Your gonna go to bed, do your best tomorrow, and even if you mess up or don’t think you did well enough, you will still be loved by millions. I promise.”

He smiles and nods, he grabs your hand from his shoulders and says

“Comon’, let’s go to bed”

Taehyung

Taehyungs drunk stages are -a little extra hyper-, to - yelling alot-, to -wearing his shoes on his hands and telling everybody his deepest darkest secrets-, then waking up and remembering nothing.

In this case during you night out, he had told you some hella weird stuff like him having an ice kink, him having a sex dream about you, and that he likes whipped cream more that anything in the world...

This definitaly scarred you since you see Tae as a brother so you felt like giving him some payback. Since he crashed at your place you knew exactly how. You went into the kitchen and grabbed an ice cube, you walked to the counch where he was sleeping and started to rub the ice cube against his face.

“Mm- Huh?” He opened his eyes and stared at you slightly disturbed.

“Good morning taeee ~” you sing.

“Why the ice cube...” he looked at you suspiciously.

You just stared right back at him smirking.

“Oh no... what more did I say last night...”

Jungkook

Jungkook can sometimes be a bit of a lightweight. Now he can drink beer or wine just fine. But if its mixed drinks or shots, the boy can and will blackout.

“SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT EVERYBOOODY”

“Jungkook it’s 10pm... there’s like 13 people in this club...”

“Comonnnn pleaase just take a shot with me....”

He has already had a beer and three shots and you don’t feel like carrying his unconscious body back to the dorms. You know you would get yelled at by the others since you promised them to take it easy with the maknae. But knowing drunk Kookie, he is not going to let up.

“Fine. I’ll take shots with you right after I use the restroom ok? Wait here.”

He nods happily and starts to do something on his phone. You make sure he is not paying attention and go to the other end on the bar. The other bartender looks at you waiting for your order and you ask him to fill 2 shotglasses with water as you point to Jungkook. He nods and chuckles a little. Probably not his first time getting asked that.

You see him pat Jungkook on the shoulder as he points to something, when he is distracted the bartender replaces the two shot glasses nearest him with the glasses with water. He tells Jungkook nevermind and retreats.

“Ok let’s do this!” You tell him coming back from the “restroom”.

“WOO!” he yells as you clink your glasses together and drink the water.

“Wow I must be drunkk cause that tasted like water!” he says happily and starts to drag you to the dance floor.

“I’ve got a long night ahead of me...”

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arctic-rising · 6 years

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A Dark Descent - Chapter 1: Contact, Part 6

(( Previous << Lore Navigation >> END)) ((Author’s Note: Wow, this took so much longer than I thought it would to get it published. To be fair though, I was a little focused on graduating haha. However! Now that it’s summer I should be able to work on this a lot more frequently.)) ((Warnings for battle violence and vomiting)) ((Pinglist: @ashenbicornwhale @jedicreed-fr @prancingcapricat @serthis-archivist @blight-nymph @guardianitefr ))

Adrenaline kicked under Jack’s scales as he channeled his elemental magic. The swirling energy inside made him feel light and airy- the mana fueling his confidence as he soared into the dark sky. Astra cut past buildings on swift wings, allowing a volley of arrows to draw the attention of the spectral fiend to her. It let out another deafening roar and reached towards her, however the young archer was faster.

Jack edged closer to the disoriented spirit, his heart pounding. Despite the creatures sluggish movements, he didn’t want to take the chance of the spell missing. If this worked, they could make a quick escape unscathed and head back home. If it didn’t, well...

‘Windsinger be with me,’ Jack prayed, and took another deep breath to meditate, calling upon his natural element. He focused his magic; twisting it into a spell. He could feel the mana curling into a tight coil in his ribcage, ready to be released.

The pearlcatcher darted towards the massive ghoul, and the monster swung its head to face him. Dust and shards of bone fell from its jaws, it’s skeleton littered with arrows and clusters of ice. The horrible whispers grew louder again when it moved closer, however the chill of fear wasn’t able to catch Jack this time. His own built up magic combated the ethereal fright, and he roared as he let loose his spell.

The wind around Jack whirled and twisted, picking up and gaining a green hue until it formed a minature whirlwind. The elemental magic slammed into the monster; the creature rearing back as the winds pulled hard enough to snap its skull loose from what remained of its spinal cord. Astra cheered as it fell backwards, its hands clawing at broken ruins in a futile attempt to keep its balance. “Let’s go!” Jack called to Astra. She nodded, and the two of them soaring away from the immeadite danger.

~+~

By the time the two pearlcatchers had escaped from the Ghostlight Ruins, the sun was setting. Buildings and statues casted pitch black shadows, and the Sea of a Thousand Currents glittered in the fading light. Jack took a deep breath, taking a moment to look at the scene before him.

“That could have gone a lot better,” Astra grunted. Jack glanced at her to see her sit down to rifle through her bag before pulling out a red potion. “Thanks for coming with me Jack. I don’t think I want to know what could have happened without you,” she said, popped the cork and downed the drink. A long scrape on her muzzle began to heal, and dark bruises against her hide became lighter.

“Oh, uhm, yeah. You’re welcome,” Jack said. “I uh, I’m glad you let me- huRK-” Jack had to stop mid-sentence and quickly keel over his pearl as black ooze built up in his throat. The liquid splattered onto the pearl and almost immeaditly hardened, the oilslick substance gleaming in the sunlight. Jack was reduced to coughing once the majority of the ooze was out of his system, and he felt Astra pat his back.

“You alright? That was a lot of mucus...” Astra asked. Jack nodded weakly, taking deep breaths. He carefully tilted his pearl in his claws to try to get the black liquid to cover the majority of the sphere so it could harden in a smooth layer.

“I have not fought anything like that before. I don’t, er, I don’t go hunting often,” Jack explained once he got his breath back.

“You what?” Astra asked. Jack cautioned a glance at her and saw her wide eyes and long ears standing straight up in shock. “You’re telling me that you volunteered to go to one of the most dangerous places in Sorienth and you have little to no battle experience?”

“Well-well you, ah, said that you were going there and I-I-I, uh, felt bad because it sounded like you were, uh, going on your own and-and you mentioned that you had not been there before and, well, you bought me that parchment and-and-and-and” Jack rambled, his nerves making his mouth run. He shifted and curled in on himself instictually as Astra stared him, her jaw hanging open.

“You,” Astra pointed a claw at Jack and he snapped his maw shut. “met me a month ago, offered to go with me on an extremely dangerous outing after you barely knew me because I bought you paper.”

Jack nodded meekly.

Astra huffed, smiled, and laughed. “You’re weird. I like you,” She wrapped him in a partial hug, squeezing him between herself and her wing. “Comon, let’s go find an inn and dinner. I could go for some salted crickets...”

Jack blinked at her, confused and surprised. He quickly trotted after Astra, keeping pace with her even as his bruises and cuts stung in protest. He carefully held his pearl with his tail, the tacky mucus already turning an opalescent grey.

~+~

The cool breeze of the Windswept Plateau was a welcome feeling on Jacks scales as he soared home, his bag loaded with trinkets, books, and empty potion bottles. Astra had insisted that they try braving the Ghostlight Ruins again, but this time they weren’t going to run away from the first sign of danger. Even after facing off with one of the more deadly spirits, It was still terrifying in Jack’s humble opinion; he almost got his whiskers torn off by a Tatterwing Carcass.

“You know, you really didn’t have to get that close,” Astra laughs over the wind.

“You would have been bird food if I didn’t distract it! It would have taken your throat out!” Jack protested. Astra twirls in the sky, her wings glinting under the sunlight.

The two of them landed at one of the nearby crossroads that lead to the southern gate of the Kingdom. The bamboo grew taller and taller as they made their way into the Reedcleft Ascent, the winds rattling the plants together to make meaningless melodies.

The streets of the Kingdom of the GuidingWinds were as busy as ever. Dragons of all elements and statuses wove together to form an endless river of scales, feathers, and fur, vibrant, and dull all at once. Jewelry chimed, fabric shifted, metal clanked, and claws clicked on the cobblestone roads as Jack and Astra wove into the crowds. When they reached the outskirts of the Center District, Astra turned to Jack.

“Are you busy in two weeks?”

“Uhm, no, I do not believe so. Why?”

“The royals are throwing a celebration for Princess Kima. She’s going to be an offical adult and my parents are dragging me along because they’re important and it’s expected that I show up because I’m related to them, and I don’t want to go alone,” Astra explained. “Would you like to come with me?”

“I, uh, uh, erm,” Jack stuttered. “I am not a royal, or have high standing. Would I even be allowed inside?”

“We can bring plus ones. I think,” Astra bit her lip. “Look, I’ll ask dad but would you come with me to it? Please?”

Jack sighed. “I, well. Sure- yes, yes I will go with you if I’m allowed.”

Astra grinned. “Okay! I’ll find you when I find out. See you later, Jack!”

He waved goodbye as Astra darted off to the Inner District. Jack huffed and mulled over the recent events in his life, fiddling with his pearl as he made his way home.

The cemetary had remained the same when he left it. The dark iron fence was still slightly crooked, the weeping willow still sagged over his den, and the stone markers atop the graves were still partially sunken in the soft earth. Jack felt the tension leave his muscles when he stepped inside his home and went about making a fire. One thing still bothered him though, a small thought that kept pulling at his attention as he settled down to finally, finally write a letter to his parents.

The warmth from the crackling hearth helped soothe his sore body, the light flickering over his feathered quill and blank parchment. Jack carefully removed his birdskull headdress; the beads and bones clicking quietly as he stared at it.

“Why did I hear that ghost speak, and Astra didn’t?” Jack murmered under his breath.

The mask stared back, shadows dancing along the crown and orange feathers as the firelight played off of the beads.

He sighed and placed it on a nearby shelf. Shaking his head, he picked the quill back up and dipped it into an ink well.

Dearest Mother and Father; It seems that the universe may have more in store for me than the quite life that I had hoped for.

#book 1 - chapter 1: contact - part 6 #WHOOP WHOOP first chapter's done!!!! :D #lore archives

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the-uptake · 5 years

Text

The Uptake, The 704. 3|0|0|-. Book 1, Chapter Eight, Part Two. (Part 1)

Necrophilic incest and body horror tw’s.

“Slaggit, Gale,” Torber called out after, beyond concerned as he he tried to catch up from having been stricken dumb. “What’d you even want from meeting me like this!”

Galen motioned to the folding chair and small card table in the middle of the enclosure, insisting it be Torber’s rightful dining arrangement. The light was best there on this floor, the streetlight filtering in from outside through an open space in what was supposed to be the floor above. He’d already tossed down the hoodie on the countertop in what appeared to have been a test setup for a kitchen space.

“I, I. I needed t’see you, ‘Nite. Nn, needed t’talk t’somebody’d get it.” He noticed Torber pacing and sighed. “Comon. Eat. I, I know ya. Y’don’t even eat lunch half the time ‘cause y’get caught up in the yards.”

“…Always known me too well,” Torber conceded, ravenous. He ripped into the bag and fished out the bag fries while he set out the burger. He refrained from elaborating that much of his time in the yards in the past months had been searching tirelessly for Galen. Through a mouthful of pickle and onion and deliberate calm, “But really, man. How y’been holdin’ up? What happened t’you?”

He could hear Galen digging around in the doorless cabinets above the counter, could see his silhouette, but had less than a clue what his brother was digging for. The crinkle of packaging. The sound of plastic jugs getting pushed around. He hated that the veil of darkness lent so much to his imagination.

“Been better.”

Torber could hear him open a bottle and take a drink, and the faint smell he picked up left him thinking Galen was drinking.

“Forgive me f’eatin’. Ss, stomach’s been gnawin’ bad at me all sss, slaggin’ day.”

«Oh god.» “S–” Torber cleared his throat and washed down his food with the soda, to break through his voice cracking. “It’s only fair we both eat.” A weak offering, as he wasn’t even sure how–or whether–to quash Galen’s apologizing for eating. “Y’sure y’don’t want any?” He held up his cup.

The sound of Galen swallowing in the dark was the only response he got for a moment.

“…Positive.”

Cardboard packaging tore, and something rattled, then Torber saw Galen clap a hand over his mouth as to swallow pills. Galen slouched at the counter with a heavy sigh.

“…Y’still eatin’ junk, yeah,” Torber fielded, shakily grabbing for a few fries.

“…Ss, s’all I eat now.”

The elder distilled inside himself before he could no longer stand not asking.

“Wh– whatcha over there eatin’? There’s two chairs over here…”

“Don’t ask. Y’still eatin’.” A long, uncomfortable silence, wherein both were too hungry to keep themselves from tearing into their respective meals at opposite ends of the space. “…Got somethin’ for ya.” Without waiting for a response, Galen walked over to the table, his heavy boot-clad steps reverberating through the cement floor space. “S’a sorta lemonade-from-lemons kinduva thing, how I happened on it, but.”

He removed his right glove and slipped it into his back pocket and took a seat, then made a gesture like a tired, washed up magician demonstrating to the awestruck child that with a bare arm he could not possibly have anything up his sleeve. As he ran his hand along the tabletop, his features tightened in concentration, and a residue began to accumulate. The smear offered a weak reflection. Utter entrancement rapidly replaced all Torber’s fears in that moment, and he leaned in to stare, his hand hovering holding fries that couldn’t quite find his mouth.

“Nonmetal, I burn off. Gut chews it all up. Metal, though? …I sweat metal now.” Galen lingered on how he’d learned the next part, heart heavy from the past few months. “My body’s streamlined t’ingest metals. Everything I eat’t ain’t a metal, it’s there t’make my stomach able to, well, able t’stomach it.”

The toxic nostalgia shuddered out of him and he concentrated on his demonstration, holding his hand slightly off the tabletop. Slowly he drew it further and further away as he gestured mystically, letting the excretion build up alongside the cathartic adrenaline-dread that invoked it flow out of him. A solid but irregularly shaped block of metal took form beneath his palm. When Galen withdrew his hand, Torber could out a faint outline of what looked like some kind of crystal formation.

“Been tryin’ t’experiment with bein’ more creative with it, maybe get t’where I can pass it off as art.” Galen broke the now hardened creation from the table with a flat snap and set it before his brother. A sulfurous, salty musk wafted over along with it. “A solid hunk of pure copper, Torb. S’worth somethin’, right? I can provide for us again.”

A fry fell from Torber’s mouth. Stupefied, he could only gawk at the gift before him. That hunk of metal had to represent easily twenty creds on its own, to the right buyer. Even more, if the receiving end was impressed by a pleasing presentation. It certainly explained why his brother was casually wearing gloves, at least. He’d always had an issue with sweaty palms. Yet, to be able to do these things–at what cost to his health? Really, the undertaking Galen was implying wasn’t all that far off from what stalkers risked on a daily basis diving in the yards–just flashier, more freakish. Was his brother even human anymore? He noticed the ghoul picking the vestige-smears off the table and eating the resultant flakes, and stared absently. Galen stopped when he noticed he was being stared at, and glanced up to give him a smile jammed with self-consciousness.

“Th– that was disgusting, yeah? That, th– that just came outta my body not two minutes ago, an’ I just, just, j– ate it?” He laughed weakly, wincing into his tics. He’d never given it a second thought before. But then again, he didn’t really eat in front of people like this. Had he really grown so accustomed to his condition, that the lines had been blurred between edible and already-eaten? “Ugh.”

“–Gale.” Torber stood and came over to sit next to him on the edge of the card table. Some deep-seated dread within him still couldn’t shake that this figure which had beckoned him might simply be a mock echo of his brother. The duality beguiled him. “Y’ain’t disgusting–”

“–Y’ain’t seen how I get.” The ghoul grabbed Torber’s hand and in the dimness guided a few fingers to feel his features as he spoke of them. “Buncha teeth’ve fell out. My right eye’s all slagged up. Not t’mention how bad my skin’s crackin’ apart…” He got really quiet and held Torber’s hand to his crusty, pale chest, letting go for Torber to linger there himself to mull over an apparent lack of heartbeat. “…Y’should probably wipe off y’hand. Not sure what it’d even do t’human skin.”

Torber stifled his skincrawling fear best he could of not knowing what coated his fingers, and he calmly reached behind him for a napkin and wiped it off. Sweat, saliva… Close up, he could tell now that rotten smell had been Galen. Yet… He began to build a little nerve. It had been difficult to separate the demonstrative gesture of having had his fingers drawn into Galen’s mouth as anything but intimate. He had to tell him now. He had to. Galen was miserable, and Torber knew this was more than him needing Galen. They needed each other.

He grabbed a fistful of the collar of Galen’s threadbare, stained tank, and dragged him closer. Mere inches apart, urgency thickened his terror.

“I have always felt close as hell t’you, man. This don’t change a thing. Y’not dead t’me. Y’just…” a jolt shot through him, recalling the clammy, tepid feel of Galen’s pulseless chest, “dead. Y’not disgusting. Y’not a monster. An’ y’certainly not ugly.”

Completely disregarding the possibility the saliva was dangerous, he pressed his lips forcefully to Galen’s; electricity in the act throttled him past the overwhelming taste and smell of soap. Galen melted into shock and confusion, brows knitted ever so slightly as he tried to make sense of it, and both their eyes drifted shut. Torber was first to break away, self-consciousness setting in without warning. He looked Galen in the eye again and stroked the scruffy back of his head firmly, reassuringly, with his free hand.

“Y’beautiful, ‘Lena. Always thought y’was beautiful.”

Beautiful. He could stomach it all until that word. Then the appellation swung a right hook to his head. Galen shoved his brother off of him, clicking back into reality with the cognizance who’d just kissed him. How had he gotten so lost in such a simple act of intimacy that even for a fraction he’d forgotten the other participant was a guy, was his brother? Was he really this touch-starved? The ghoul rose and backed off to pace a bit, clenching his hands in his scrawny undercut.

“Y, y’gay, Torber? Y’like guys? …Y’like ME?”

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Standing, Torber approached Galen while still giving him space.

“I… know it’s weird. But y’deserve t’know how deep I feel f’ya. Don’t expect y’ta feel the same.”

Galen slumped down on the bare mattress off a ways in the floor, facing away from him half-fetal. Nothing made sense.

“Then what did y’expect?”

“I, I don’t know. I just… I miss you. I don’t wanna… I can’t lose y’again…” Torber looked at the silhouette of the bed in the dim light, trailing off at realizing how much of a stressor his last remark must have been. “–Chouaaaay that’s a big mattress, man. Don’t think I ever seen one that big.”

Galen turned to glance up at him over the shoulder, dully, anxiously welcoming the change of subject. His brain was a clump of wet yarn, being put on the spot to sort all this out.

“It is pretty big, yeah? Think it’s a queen. Found it in the back end of the lot. Same with lotta the other junk I dragged up in here.”

Torber laid down next to him, and put a hand to his shoulder.

“I lost a lotta sleep while you was gone.”

«Me, too.» Galen bristled at how short the reprieve had been, but still welcomed it somehow, relinquishing the wheel to his older brother for what was otherwise too much for him to process. “It’s… hard gettin’ used t’havin’ an empty bed when y’shared one with a sibling all y’life, yeah?” He pushed himself into Torber’s contours, and took his arm around him. “…It don’t bother me y’gay, ‘Nite.”

“Didn’t think it would.” Torber calmly stroked his brother’s stiff, stringy hair, and drifted into thought. “…I ain’t dreamin’ this, yeah?” The words got a little stuck in his throat. “…I… don’t know what y’are anymore… ‘At’s okay, though.”

A weak chuckle trickled out of Galen as he leaned his scalp into Torber’s hand.

“Yeah. Folks don’t usually eat a pack a batteries, n’chase it with detergent. Let alone that thing with the metals…”

“This is kinda cool.” Torber smiled, nestling his face against Galen’s neck. “Y’know, Orpi an’ Ruti would think it was real cool, in a gross kinda way.”

“Vana’d probably scream she’d wanna puke just t’voice how cool-gross it was.” Isolation bristled him into a depressed stupor. “…Just shut up and hold me.”

The demand was met, the two pressed tightly together on the mattress. Torber just couldn’t stay quiet, though, and Galen knotted up all over again the instant he started back up.

“Y’oughtta come back… I’m positive they’d get it. Imagine y’usually under that hoodie, any rate.” Torber sighed, oblivious as he overstepped Galen’s bubble by letting his fingers wander from Galen’s hair to gently running a knuckle along the scarring of the ghoul’s cheek. “…Please…”

“I told ya. Y’ain’t seen how I get. Nobody gets how I get. How I am now ain’t nothin’ compared to that.”

“I don’t blame ya for what happened on ‘Piphany.”

Galen pulled away and deadweighted into the mattress with a huff, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

“…I get too heavy t’even move.” It was an ordeal to spare his brother every imagery he could, but the impulse to be as candid with Torber as he’d been with him been lit a fire in Galen, and he did his best. The thoughts were fumbling, and the words did an even greater disservice to the condition they were meant to describe. “…I swell up real bad…”

Suddenly, Torber understood it wasn’t so much a mental state Galen described as a physical one, and he sat up, increasingly concerned. He couldn’t even wrap his head around the description he’d just been fed.

“Wh. How d’ya take care of y’self when y’like that?”

“I sleep it off.”

“What if somebody came across you? Can y’defend yourself?” Contrary to his composure, his voice continued to build in concern and volume. “What if y’other eye gives out? You’d be blind!” Torber grabbed him and shoved him backwards supine on the mattress, and forced him to look him in the eye with his good eye. “Please come home. We can take care of ya.”

“Y’don’t get it! Y’can’t take care of me! An’ y’might be able t’find some kind of attraction in how I am right now, but y’really would puke if y’saw what this hunger turns me into!”

Wet eyes reflected in the dark over Galen, and a drip fell on his chest.

“I don’t believe you.

Galen shoved Torber off him and leapt to fly to the cabinets. As he scrambled for something, everything got knocked over. Desperation overcame him. He had to snuff this pleading once and for all.

This wasn’t what he wanted from this encounter, not at all.

“I was hopin’ I wouldn’t hafta dip into this f’a long time, an’ this definitely ain’t what I kept it for.” The ghoul held it up, and the angular surfaces of the amber glass glistened. “I found it in an abandoned medical buildin’. Liquid mercury. Got some other metals in it, but it’s near pure. ‘Bout fifteen pounds worth. …Didn’t get like this eatin’ slaggin’ batteries. Y’wanna see how slagged I get? How slagged I really get? Don’t get much worse n’it does with mercury. It’s already liquid. Cuts right through me. Don’t even hardly digest it first.”

Torber shot up on the bed, frantic to grasp what was transpiring in the near-darkness.

“–Gale, don’t. Y’don’t gotta prove a thing t’me. Y’don’t gotta–” The elder cut off when he heard the cork pop out, and he saw the bottle go to his brother’s lips. “Gale–” He reached out vainly in horror, forced to watch having driven his brother to poison himself.

For how heavy the bottle had been, it only took about three solid chugs for Galen to drain the bottle dry. The liquid saturated every surface, every tissue, that it touched. Within seconds the tics and tremors began. The bottle fell from his hands, glass shattering the uncomfortable silence. The stuff sank right to the bottom of his gut. Breathing heavy, he took labored, deliberate steps toward Torber. His motor skills were rapidly deteriorating, but if he put enough thought into each step…

Torber scrambled back, convinced that breaking the bottle had been anything but accidental, and he scrambled to his feet. Galen pursued, though slowly.

Out into the empty air. Good. Torber would see better that way.

Galen could already tell the bloating had begun, his neck tight.

“This what, hat–t–t– a din, dinky lil’ bott, bottl’ll, lll, do do to me. An’ my hunger can, can drive me. Drive me t’eat hundreds a pounds this shit, hit, it. IT.” He evened his stance, as steady as he could get, and glared at Torber.

The edemic masses blistered up around his thyroid, clustered tight flushed a deep bruised purple, marred with wiry dark veins. As each swelled to a certain size, they fell translucent, the orange of the low sodium lights granting an even more disturbing appearance to his liquefying necrosis. His skin wept quicksilver.

“LOOK AT ME!”

His mouth had swelled in much the similar fashion, his gums and tongue having absorbed more than enough to spur a reaction just from the contact of the act of ingestion, and he curled his lips to bare his bloating gumline and shifting teeth.

“T, t, tell ‘e I ain’t ugly. T, t, t, t, t– this gh’retty. ‘T, tractive. YEAU’IFUL.”

The inarticulate, distended words held just as much venom as the bottled Galen had just inhaled. Drool poured uselessly from the corners of his mouth as fluid retention tightened his mucous membranes. When Torber stumbled on a rock and cried out, Galen screeched at him, a horrid, rasping, pleural, metal-rending sound, as his entire body reverberated its contents. Torber fell back against the chain link fence, and tangled up the fingers of one hand up in the wire lattice behind him, to shield himself with the other. He tried in vain to hold back tears as his terror kicked his legs in the mud with his utility boots, unable to gain traction.

“It’nhhh think tho. –Get out.”

Torber couldn’t stand fast enough to satisfy Galen. The creature’s spasms and twitches only magnified his mercurial anguish.

“GET! OUT!”

As Torber finally managed to scramble up the fence to escape, Galen watched him sprint. His brother looked back, just once. To make sure he hadn’t been chased.

«Little shit, y’better run.»

Galen didn’t stand there long. He shambled back into the shadows as his condition deteriorated further. If he’d had his faculties, he would have likened the gaps in his mental processes to Swiss cheese. He slumped himself into the calming, chill frame of the bathtub. A long, gurgling sigh sprung from him as the swelling started squeezing his breath from him. The entire place was trashed, and he was soon to be just as bad off. He could smell the bits of food Torber had been interrupted from finishing off, and the characteristic smell of the copper which he’d sweat-sculpted for him.

“Get… ow… wwww…” he whispered to himself again, suddenly too upset to hold it back any longer, hands to his tumescent throat as his lungs wheezed shut.

A few weeks later, Galen started out from the construction site to satisfy a craving which he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but which he knew the site could not remedy. A box sat just inside the fence at the gate which surrounded the complex. He approached it and brought it back inside. Crouching over the mattress, he opened the box to find a cake. Well, what resembled a cake, anyway. He almost made a face at someone having given him real food, but his sense of smell told him otherwise. On an impulse he stuck a bare finger in it, to find it wasn’t icing, or cake. His fingertip stopped just half an inch down. He smelled his finger, and his head fell to one side as he stuck it in his mouth to suck it clean.

“Caulk.”

He smeared a little of the half-cured caulk away to determine what it had covered, exposing a styrofoam block. The bizarre craft project had a single candle planted atop it, and was sprinkled wish nuts and washers. He pulled the card from where it had been taped to the inside of the box lid. Upon reading it, he couldn’t stop the drool from running, and fell sniveling fiercely from his crouch onto his butt.

||I didn’t forget. Miss you.||

««« Back to Part 1

#cyberpunk #biopunk #dystopian #body horror #the uptake #the 704 #704 #galen miner #torber miner #300 #three oh oh blank

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