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putridsexobject · 3 years

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(Male) Shadow Monster X (Female) Reader (NSFW) (Part 2)

Warnings: Mature, Smut, Teratophilia

Word count: 3212

It doesn't return for a long time. A month has passed already and my previous state has returned full-throttle until I'm drinking 10 cups of coffee daily just to keep my head from collapsing into my cereal bowl. When it gets so bad that I wonder if I should use heavy-duty sleeping agents again, it appears. Its presence mute but identifiable by the air turning cold around it like a radiator polarity. Goosebumps prickle on my skin, stirring me from my very much needed nap. My thinking is sluggish but once I realize what's happening, I feel the wisps of its hands, brushing ever so slightly against my face.

"Wait!" I say. It stops in surprise before collapsing into a puddle of smoke with a hiss, probably thinking I were objecting again. "No! Don't go!" I call out to the darkness, sitting up in bed, "I-I want to stay awake...I want to see you." The darkness says nothing. I huff dejectedly, shoulders slumping. I slide down into my pillows and sit in disappointment. Until a figure steps out of the darkness and I see it in much more clarity despite the dark of the room. It's skin is matte black, permanently etched with shadow. There is no feature on its visage to be highlighted, not even ears or hair. It was like a mannequin had just climbed out of a chimney, covered in soot. Its skin so smooth it's statuesque, as though carved out of marble. Despite its apparitional nature, its body ripples with sculpted muscle in a skinless manner (resembling an anatomical portrayal of the human muscle at subcutaneous expense). It stands at a little over 7 feet, strings of mist like incense steaming off its skin as though it had just been put out of fire. The smoke-like body of substance is a grey compared to its vessel blacker than nothing. It has no eyes, not even hollows where they should be, yet it stares straight at me, taking in my eyes for the first time.

I hesitate on speaking, soaking in the shock of it, but once it had passed, I instead choke on awkwardness, a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue. "W-What...are you?" I ask, noticing a slight uneasiness in my tone. "I mean...what have you been doing to me? I haven't slept that well in, like," I scoff lightheartedly in an attempt to put my nerves under my sway, "forever," finalizing my inquiry with an instinctive grin. "I...give you...peace. And take away...bad things." It says each word as though with careful consideration, its voice uniform to its shadowy form; dreamy yet raspy, faint and low like the hum of an air conditioner. And broken, with soft edges, trailing off with a gentle blowing sound. "You can talk?" I exclaim in disbelief, eyes widening in surprise that it actually responded. It startles at my raised voice, a piece of its shoulder letting loose a fervent stream of smoke like blackboard erasers banging together to release powdered chalk. It doesn't answer for a moment, but then slowly bows its head once, in a preemptive manner. "Well...thank you," I say amicably, smiling to my eyes with genuine gratefulness. It merely stares; a blank unreadable slate. Silence ensues once again as I sit thinking of what to do next. "You...can touch me if you want," I say, awkwardly clearing my throat a little, "I don't mind. It's actually, uh, nice." It inclines its head slightly to the side, as though in recognition of my words. And slowly it starts to walk towards the bed, it's skin vibrating like the ripples in a river.

I feel a shudder start in my chest and echo down into my core as the air turns cold as it comes closer, unaware of the effect. It reaches the side of my bed and stops, before reaching out its fingers to set them against my thigh in a non-perverse action. I swallow in anticipation at how tortuously soft its touches are. I can't bring myself to fear this harmless thing that's been my walking melatonin inducer, can't even begin to feel anything other than this growing knot of arousal despite the objection of my shame. I see its hands clearly in the orange light: no fingernails, just wispy ends like a flame. It smells like an icebox, but also comforting, like the inside of my closet; dust, laundry detergent, and books. It runs into the crevasse of my inner thigh, probably unassuming to it having such an arousing effect. I spread my leg open on instinct, my quickening heartbeat pounding in my sex in excitement of such close proximity with its cold fingers. It tilts its head down at me in fascination. I look up at it from under my eyelashes, curling my toes and lifting my hips a little so that its fingers accidentally brush against the fabric of my night shorts. It seems to take it as an initiative to further its physical appraisal because it crawls into the bed.

Despite it's huge stature, it barely makes an indentation on the mattress. It looks like a right beast crouched with its shoulders hunched over. It curls over, its left knee against its chest, and begins to shamelessly runs its hands over my legs again, stopping ever so often to look up at me as though making sure I was still okay with it. "W... arm," it whispers hoarsely, the soothing, yet haunting sigh of its voice sending chills up my spine. I scoot closer to it, bending my knees, its hands limply pulling away as it shuddered, clearly unnerved by how close I was. I reach over and tentatively run my hand against its chest, feeling the smoothness and firmness like rock. It trembles uncontrollably in an excited fashion, smoke shaking off its vibrating body in messy curls. "Do you like that?" I ask curiously, unable to ignore the swell of pride in my chest at its strangely adorable reaction. It ducks its chin in a perfunctory way, and snakes it's hand over mine, pressing it harder against its chest, in response, a quiet blowing sound emitting from no known orifice. I continue the travel of my hand down the smooth contour of its chest, lower and lower, tracing the mound of muscle of its abdomen. I let my fingertips settle on the divet between the end of its abs and the swell of its pubic area, shifting into perverse curiosity.

Its broad shoulders fold over and smoke hisses off even more, like disturbed dirt. Flattening my fingers against the area where a human male's cock should be, a protuberant mound like a Barbie doll. A sharp whistle cries out in appreciation, before turning into a low humming like a car left on added with the muffler oozing gas. I smirk and bite my lip as its body convulses and it opens its thighs to allow me easier access. It throws its chin back to reveal its mouth for the first time. It's a slit across its face like a dog, a long wild tongue coils out of its maw in a loose ebony ringlet as though it were panting to match, jaw unhinging widely to reveal a collection of overcrowded fangs like upside down pear-shaped onyx gemstones coinciding with its dark complexion.

I pinch my fingers together, pressing my fingertips flat into the area to massage it in a circular motion, exerting a considerable amount of pressure in my excitement. The experience is foreign; rubbing a smooth hardened area to get the monster off. But as I continue my rapid massage, the waxen plot expands, like molded clay. Until an artificial cock emerges, just as monstrously intimidating as its host. It drips small puffs of smoke in loops out the top of the head, like some abstract version of pre-cum. The base isn't veiny like a human's, but smooth, the shaft sinewy and hard. I shudder at the sight of it, awed by this strange thing, and enjoying the alien texture as I wrap my hand around it and gently squeeze. I push forward onto my knees, tucking them in under me as I scoot closer in between the enigma. One of his long legs is bent lazily on one side of me, tilted open, the other hanging over the side of the bed. He leans backwards on his elbows as I quicken my pace, occasionally swiping a thumb over the tip to clear the string of smoke flowing out of it. And when I drop my head down to suckle the mushroom-shaped tip into my mouth, pursing my lips around it before opening and rolling my hot wet tongue over the sleek skin, then running the smooth underside of my tongue over the smoky discharge, he whistles in a decibel so high the neighbor's dog starts its howls again.

He bucks his hips into my hand, his cock throbbing in my hand like in one of those cartoons. I pull away from his cock and smile smugly, teasingly slowing my pace to a stop until he stops his wild humping and stares at me with what would probably be a pouting expression. "Needy, aren't you?...First time?" I ask devilishly, enjoying his desperate little twitches into my loose grasp that he attempts to stop. He says nothing, his expressionless face simply looking at me in response before he pushes off his hands and leans forward into me, his size terrifying, especially swollen burly with muscle. He pulls his unfurled leg from the floor and matches it in the position of the other, around me, as he pulls me into him by the hips. He looks down at me in the silence, before pressing his mouth area into my lips sweetly. I'm struck dumb as I feel his tongue dart out and wetly trace the outline of my lips, before withdrawing. My surprise quickly diminishes as I close my eyes and lean up into his mouth, opening my lips to grant his tongue entrance.

He tastes the inside of my mouth, pressing into the soft tissue of my cheek a moment before it entwines around my tongue, clicking his razor-sharp teeth against my own. I enjoy the absolute closeness of him, pushing forward and reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck before he slowly pulls away, a string of saliva connecting our mouths. He backs up and moves his hands from my hips to my thighs, lifting my rear up gently so that it's perched in his lap. When the thick of its cock is only a few inches away from my clothed sex is when he slides his fingers into the hem of my shorts and looks up at me in question. I push myself slightly into his cock, encouraging him to remove them. He runs his hands up my body before running them back down my sides until his thumbs hook under the elastic of my shorts and underwear, slowly pushing them down to my knees, never breaking contact. I lift my legs up as he pulls them off completely, the cool breeze on my newly exposed parts sending shockwaves of pleasure through my sex.

I chew on my bottom lip and watch him through my eyelashes. He opens the gape of his own mouth and lets his tongue slither out like some biblical serpentine metaphor for the lustful sins it were about to commit. He moves with unhurried grace and speed, descending his head in between my legs; the distance taken is astonishing as he lifts the lower half of my body up with surprising strength so that his mouth can reach me, determined to show me what he learned.

I feel his cold tongue prod my clit, rolling and pressing it with the tendril. I jerk my hips forward into his mouth. Not able to grab onto his head because of the distance, I settle on curling my fingers tightly around the sheets. "H-oly...shit," I gasp out, furrowing my eyebrows upwards and letting my mouth fall slack in a mute pleasure. He traces my slit with the tip of his tongue, swirling and flicking with brute force as though he weren't a novice to the pleasure of a human.

Before seeping his tongues back in between my folds, swirling around in my arousal to taste me. He prods my entrance, dipping slowly into me. I clench the sheets so hard my knuckles turn white with strain, my face twisted in pleasure mid-moan.

I feel my body shake, waves of lust coursing through me as I try to breathe through the pulsating bliss. His tongue lengthens completely inside me, first reaching so far it grazes my cervix then shortening to curl, hitting my G-spot. My toes press into my feet as the pleasure explodes through me, shattering me into a million pieces. I cry out and lift my feet onto each of his shoulders, pressing my toes so hard the nails graze his skin."F-uck!" I whine out, my eyes tearing up in pure unbridled ecstasy. He pulls his tongue out of me with a wet pop like a suction cup, only to slam it back into my with an unforeseen ferocity. It all builds up into this aching pulsating ball inside me, all my muscles tensing, my insides tightening around his tongue. I freeze, breath stifling and eyes rolling back into my head as an orgasm washes over me. He doesn't stop his violent lovemaking with his tongue, grabbing my hips and trying to take as much of me into his mouth without accidentally biting me.

My back arches as I let my hands lay limp around my head. I come down from my high, the monster slowly pulls his tongue out, giving me a final swipe up my sex as he straightens his back to its full length, hovering over me like a skyscraper. I must look like a mess; panting, chest heaving, cheeks flush, and strands of hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. He tilts his head again, reaching over to lightly stroke my cheek, over my heaving chest, and down my tummy before laying down onto me, putting most of his weight onto his elbows as to not crush me. He curls his back so that his face is in mine (barely), slipping his tongue between my lips as he wraps his hands in the pits of my legs, bending them to my stomach as far as they can go with my wet sex pressed against his stomach. We continue kissing for a few minutes, I slip off my shirt and wrap my arms around him, his chest pressing lightly against my nipples to create a delicious stimulation. His hand slides over to fondle my breasts in between his hands, kneading them like dough, before rolling the swollen nubs and reaching his tongue down to swirl around the bud. After a minute of this, he slips his other hand down in between my thighs and with slow strokes in my wetness for lubrication, pushes a finger inside me. I arch my back up, pushing my hips down as I slowly ground my sex against his hand, shoving my mouth back against his as I moaning into his throat.

I buck my sex into him furiously, signifying his finger isn't enough. He pulls his finger out and places it back in the divet of my leg, as he lines himself up in between me, folding his legs in half under him. He slowly pushes into me, leaning back over me to study my face and see how I react. I press my lips together, muffling a small grunt as his large girth stretches me. "A...Am I...hurting...you?" He asks evidently concerned as he cocks his head. I look up at him, smiling, "No, no, it's okay...just...a little big," I laugh. He stares back in response and then affectionately wraps his hand on the top of my head and around my waist, pulling in my body, small compared to his giant one. His chin is pressed against the side of my head, muscular body protective around my own. He's slow and sweet in its thrust, allowing me to get used to his size as it pushes deeper and deeper inside me, until at last it's to the hilt, nestled as far as he can go, that he stops. Waiting until it feels good for me. I buck up my hips and whine a bit, "More!" He listens and begins his sweet fuck. Slowly rocking back and forth, each swing forward slamming inside me in a way that feels like I'm tingling all over, pulling out almost all the way before slamming it back in.

I clutch his back and moan freely into his stomach. The room is filled with the sounds of my heavy breathing, his windy coos of appreciation, and the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh.

The familiar wave of euphoria builds up quickly inside me, a hotness so vehement I clench my teeth to quell the rushing of blood in my ears, and it crashes even quicker, my moans in unison with his rapid thrusts. I feel him tense above me and shake violently, like sand sifting through open hands. His skin so pleasantly cool against my hot burning flesh. He emits a broken whistling, as though choking on his saliva, and spills a liquid inside me so cold it was like Icy Hot gel shoved inside of me. I squeeze my thighs around him to make the feeling last as long as possible, squeezing so hard as though I could morph his body into mine to create some abominable ball of pure unfiltered pleasure.

His muscles relax as he curls over me to put all his weight on his front hands, stomach heaving in exhaustion. After a minute, when both our breathing has regulated, he slips off the bed to leave. I immediately sit up to grab onto its hand and jerk it towards me. "Stay? Please?" I ask, doing nothing to hide the desperation in my voice. He does nothing but turn his head to stare for a while and then look down at my hand pathetically clutched around his. My stomach churns and I feel my face flush, nervous that I'd made an idiot out of myself. I slowly drop his hand and place it on my knee, looking at the floor awkwardly. But then he tilts its head (for the thousandth time) and placidly approaches the edge of the bed, leaning down to pinch my jaw in between his fingers and kiss me in his messy animalistic way, before setting his knee onto the bed and then the other, deepening our kiss. Until he's back in the bed with me, trapping me in a cage of his limbs, and finally breaking our kiss as he turns to his side and holds me into his body in such a passionate need, "I...won't go...if you...don't want me to." The faint of his humming consoling me into a peaceful slumber.

#Mature #smut #shadow monster x reader smut #shadow monster x reader lemon #x reader #shadow monster x reader #monster x reader #female reader #fantasy #monster lover #monsters #monster #lemon #expophilia #terat0philliac #monster smut #monster love #shadow monster #love

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fictionplumis · 3 years

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I see your “Roche is secretly a half-elf” and raise you “Shrodingers Roche”.

Half the things he does is just so Aen Seidhe that when it gets to the point where he’s forced to cooperate with the Socia’tael for the benefit of everyone, like we all want to happen, the elves are just like, “Okay, he has to have Elder Blood. Humans aren’t normally like that, especially humans like him, who revel in violence, murder, and bloodshed. I mean, he doesn’t know who his father is, so...”

And then Roche turns around and says or does something that contradicts the theory completely and all the elves throw their hands up like, “Nope, he’s a dh’oine.”

-- Roche likes being up high places, both because there’s a tactical advantage but also because he just does. He’s a Blue Stripe, he knows how to climb a tree like a Squirrel, and yes, sometimes he will do it just to sit in the damn tree because at least there he has some peace and quiet sometimes and can observe the surrounding area better.

-- He hates jumping through the branches chasing down some Socia’tael member who won’t do the decent thing and just let themselves be shot from the trees by a crossbow or come down themselves to get their asses handed to them in a proper fight. Fuck that. He will drag that elf from the tree by their ankle on sheer principal to kill them on the ground. You know, the only sensible place to fight.

-- He’s really good with a bow. Ves is better than him with a crossbow and is quickly catching up to his skill with a regular bow, but for the moment he can still outshoot her if they’re both using traditional bows. His aim is also damn good with a crossbow for a human, Ves is just better.

-- Hates using a bow. Just fucking hates it. Iorveth or someone will preach about the benefits a bow has over a crossbow and Roche will go, “Oh yes, well my opionion is,” then he flips the bird and leaves to go shoot shit with his crossbow. But of course he would rather use a sword, or a knife, or just straight up start fucking people up with his mace because who needs poise or grace when you can just bust their skull in with a mace?

-- When he explained how the Blue Stripes were so hard to ambush without Roche figuring out their location seconds before the ambush, what he describes sounds oddly like he’s tuning into the feeling of the forest. He claims it’s a feeling, like the trees are holding their breath, like there’s a charge in the atmosphere, a drop of pressure on a beautiful sunny day before a bad storm. And what human can feel the natural world around them that strongly and not have a drop of Elder Blood there?

--Then they watch him pass up five different medicinal herbs on his way to pick some poison mushrooms that aren’t deadly if cooked, but will cause mild stomach pains nonetheless. And Roche is like, “It’s fine, because it’s food that doesn’t kill anyone and doesn’t cut into our rations. Who cares about some mild abdominal cramping? Ves goes through that once a cycle and she’s fine. My unit never complained about them before besides the one person who died before we realized we needed to cook them, but no one liked him anyway.”

-- He likes looking up at the stars, which Iorveth found particularly endearing. Of course, as a Commander and someone who travels a lot, Roche would need to know how to navigate by them, but laying on his back at night looking up at them twinkling overhead isn’t navigating, and Roche even knows some of the lore behind the constellations, even if the lore he knows is heavily changed to fit human beliefs when they had once been elven stories.

-- Roche can identify the Guiding Star and knows that it’s part of a ladle, but he doesn’t get how it’s a ladle. He can’t see the ladle. He finds the star because he recognizes the pattern of the other stars around it but they don’t look like a fucking ladle. And he knows those three stars over there are the belt of a hunter but that does NOT look like a hunter with a bow. He cannot for the life of him understand how some people saw those dots in the sky and went, “Ah yes, that looks like an archneas.” Don’t try to show him and point it out star by star, don’t try to draw him a picture and explain it, he won’t get it. He doesn’t see it. He thinks people that do are a little touched in the head.

-- His ears are sensitive.

-- He claims that’s pretty normal for humans and they aren’t even slightly pointy.

-- When he wants to, he can move incredibly silent and blend in well with the forest despite being bright fucking blue. There is a kind of grace about him, too. All of those things are too well done for most skilled humans.

-- He’s big. He’s bulky. He has to try at being silent. Body hair. Also he would rather not fight with grace, he’d rather just wail on someone with his fists and taste blood in his mouth.

-- He rarely dreams, and when he does, they’re intense.

-- All the dreams he has can easily be explained by PTSD.

-- Roche does actually find peace in being in nature. When he’s alone. When he’s not looking over his shoulder for threats. And he’s very good at just being in the middle of the woods and doing things. It’s something he never admits to anyone because it just never really comes up.

-- If given the choice between being in the middle of the woods, or in a city with a fucking bed and roof over his head, he’ll pick the bed ANY DAY.

-- He’s actually a very clean person if given the choice. He likes baths, especially hot baths because they ease his aching muscles. And he prefers his clothing looking nice and neat, like he just stepped out of the Vizima palace.

-- He doesn’t complain about going weeks covered in blood, sweat, dirt, shit, and gods only know what else. He’ll complain about having to scrub it off his clothes, though.

-- He’s fucking TOUGH. For a human, he’s survived some extreme shit and kept on trucking. He can take a fall, he can take a hit, he can nearly be burned alive by a dragon and then buried under half a foot of rubble and get up and be pissed off that his uniform is scorched and he broke three ribs. Socia’tael have seen him take arrows and just keep coming.

-- He aches a lot. Muscles, joints, especially his wrists from using a sword. All that jumping after the Socia’tael and fighting his way out of every situation has taken a real toll on his body. He often wears compression gloves under his studded ones to help with the pain. He claims that age is a factor because he’s not a young man anymore, but Elder Blood would staved that off for a bit longer. Time will tell on that one, whether is pain his lifestyle or age, and if he lives long enough for his age to give much of a hint.

-- And a random thing that screws up the whole idea he might have Elder Blood, this poor man can’t carry tune for shit. Can’t even hum on key. He’s fucking awful and so he just WON’T because his biggest weakness is doing something minorly embarrassing.

So the question becomes, is Roche a half-elf, a weird human, or are humans just sometimes like that? Until they know for sure, all are equally likely and valid.

#rorveth #vernon roche #iorveth #half elf roche #witcher 2

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hyuneytoast · 3 years

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Hearts of Roses || Scene 2

⇢𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 》 “Don’t forget about the thorns.”

In which you stumble upon Wonderland and the Prince of Hearts. How you end up in Wonderland is something explained as complete nonsense, but also quite simple; Just a key and a door. What if it’s not easy to return from Wonderland, though? A locked door and a lost key; now surely that’s not so bad if it weren’t for the Queen of Hearts’ threatening intentions.

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 》 Prince of Hearts!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader, Fantasy AU, Alice in Wonderland AU, Stranger to Lovers, Fluff, Slight Angst

⇢𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 》 Explicit language

⇢𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 》(Let me know if you want to be added!)

@danyxthirstae01 @sailorhyunjinz @rapilne @peachy-maia @hyunj1nn133

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 || 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 || 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽

II.

You stumble pass the door, feet being met with, in a way, familiar grounds. Once again, towering mushrooms and a dense forest greet you. The sunlight filters through the canopy and casts itself messily around. You let your skin soak the soft warmth as you stand there for a good solitary minute. Were you really returning? Should you continue to be here? You have no clue, but you can confirm that Wonderland and the people you’ve met have never once left your mind. A good excuse for your terrible lack of sleep last night too. It’d be a shame too if you weren’t to show up when Hyunjin asked you to with evident hope, right?

“Returning, I see? Seems like Wonderland has turned you into a madly, vulnerable fool now,” An unforgettable voice laughs in amusement. Your eyes scan each branch in search of the cat-like acquaintance.

“I’m not always in a tree, you know. I’m over here~”

In front, a grinning figure slowly appears in front of you, now sitting upon the grass. And hell, even considering the magical hole you dug yourself into, you doubt you’d ever get used to his “tricks.”

“Hello again, Minho.”

“I’ve been expecting you in the back of my head.”

“You’d know I come back?”

“Of course! I was watching your goodbyes last night ’til I spent this morning in dread, listening to two idiots speak about you.” Minho crosses his arms against the back of his head while falling slowly aback, laying in the green.

“Who?”

“That’s not important; your life does not depend on knowing so therefore I have no need to tell. But I do must say, one of those idiots are waiting for you. Ah yes, our dear prince is disgustingly waiting for you with heartening patience,” He frowns with closed eyes, faking a gag.

“O-oh. Well—”

“If you desire to be pathetic like him, I suggest you begin wandering off at this very second in the opposite way.”

The cat boy and his irritating habits of interrupting and insisting you to leave makes you let out a low, hopeless sigh. “Now? I still don’t know my way around or where exactly to go. I don’t think wandering around aimlessly is… the wisest decision either.”

“Now surely you didn’t fully think that thought yesterday, did you? If I remember clearly, you left with a smile. Besides, reasons like that, Y/N, make everything more fun! Surprises here and surprises there!” Minho cackles before is resting figure vanishes out of sight.

You frantically look around, but all fails when you find yourself permanently alone once again. “Whatever,” You grumble.

And just like that, your feet move aimlessly in an unknown direction, the opposite of where you went with the dark rabbit, Changbin, yesterday. Wandering and wandering, and deeper in the forest you go; no sense of direction but surely a sight of wonders. Once you get a taste of something, you go back for more. That is very much like your current situation. Not like you actually have a choice though since you have no clue of how to get back on your own.

Tickling below your knees, the breeze creates a rhythm having the tall grass swaying back and forth and your hair gently dancing along too. Incredibly huge butterflies prance along, wings glistening like the day’s sky. You admire the mushrooms from enormous to tiny. Perhaps you poke some of their squishy caps too, smiling to yourself at the fun feeling and aspect. Is it wrong to say that in an unknown somewhere full of mysterious madness, your soul still manages to be put at ease? Maybe it’s the magical atmosphere, or the forest’s serenity that you could never experience in the city. Perhaps it’s both that isn’t so wrong either. An escape from a harsh world; such an opportunity practically pleads you to blissfully wander day by day.

Against the lush green and patches of dirt, a trail of bright red splatters and puddles trail ahead to the left. Appearing to be too colorfully reflective to be considered blood, thoughts immediately recall last night’s encounter with the prince. Red paint! Your feet reroute you along the crimson trail. Curiosity taking over each inch, not to mention, the doubts of possible dangers awaiting at the end. You hear a cheery hum as you walk around a huge bush of roses; similar to last night’s but wilder, more lush. Your eyes meet with a familiar individual that just may have made your heart skip a beat without a warning.

“Y-Y/N?” Hyunjin marvels, mentally sighing in joyous relief.

“Hi, Hyunjin.” If Minho were here, he’d certainly wouldn’t hesitate to mock, or maybe even smack, the grin upon your face.

“Oh how brightly I am shocked to see you have returned very much sooner before my eyes than I have expected,” The boy rambles with a smile he can’t hold back, fumbling to settle the red-dipped paintbrush and palette on top a giant, flat stone.

“Yes, it seems that yesterday was more than enough to convince me,” You respond rather sheepishly.

“Quite happy to hear that as much as I now know I can keep my promise. Now, um, kindly, asking, may I?” Despite the nervousness mixed in with his soft tone, Hyunjin eagerly holds his hand out (which you notice is decked with a few silver rings), but still patiently waiting for a response.

You nod, placing your hand in his large one, cold skin sheltering yours. He gently tugs you around the stone and tall rose bush, revealing a part of the forest containing the most mushrooms you have seen so far.

“What about your paint?”

“That, my dear, can surely wait longer than all of us in Wonderland combined. Besides, you mean far more than all my replaceable paint.” He flashes you a smile while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Now when was the last time you felt like… this? Felt like whatever this is that you’re feeling. Your words stuck in your throat and all confidence shying away; A desire to bury your heated face in the comfort of your blankets along with tying your hand with Hyunjin’s, never wanting to let go of such simple yet heart bursting touch. Oh god, Y/N, calm down—

“Y/N?! And our dear prince, Hyunjin? Why, what ever are you doing here?”

The two of you snap your gazes to the ringing voice on your right, a red-haired male standing under tall mushrooms with a covered basket in hand. He cocks his head to the side, giving off a few rushed blinks.

“Bang Chan, lovely you meet you once again.”

“Likewise, Y/N!” He flashes you a grin and a small wave.

“Ah, my dear friend! You have caught us as I was making my way to reveal Y/N the garden!”

“The garden? Oh, the garden! Yes! What a sight to behold once you get there, like a rainbow palace that makes me promise you won’t regret the adventure!” Chan gives a small clap before waving his basket. “Not a similar treat, but I was on my way to deliver a few things to Felix.”

“Felix?” You question the slightly familiar name, but you can’t recall encountering him yesterday’s tea party.

“Yes, Felix!” Chan chimes as if he was just asked one of the most precious questions. “He’s one of the most beloved bakers in Wonderland, role done at the castle’s kitchen. A dear friend to many as well, hard not to be friends with him if I must say.”

“Yes, yes, but let’s not forget about me,” slightly whines Hyunjin. “And correction, hard for you to not be friends with everyone. We’ll visit Felix and I’ll make sure you meet him, Y/N. But that shall be for another day when the sun hangs as now, we mustn’t waste any more time. Farewell, Chan!” Still holding your hand, he tugs you forward to where you previously left off.

“I’ll be sure to see you again, Chan!” You glance over your shoulder, giving him a bright face.

“Farewell!”

Small conversations fill up the time that’s basking under the tattered sunlight, feet now walking on a stone trail where the forest seems to set clear into a field. Who knew venturing to a garden could grant so much little details about a person? The two of you would exchange questions that were yearning to be answered. He’d ask you about the different opportunities in your world to your favorite things, like flowers and colors. You’d ask the same, along with your curiosities of his royal heir. Turns out, he’s the next in line for the throne and his favorite color is red. Turns out, he dreams of someday owning a dog.

Little things like that.

“I’m assuming this is it?” Stopped in the tracks, you stand before a stone archway supporting dark wooden doors with black iron handles. Green vines ravel around the tall arch and stone walls, small pink blossoms appearing every here and there.

Hyunjin releases your hand, clapping joyously with crescent eyes. “Yes, we have most certainly arrived!” He steps forward, pulling the door out and gesturing towards the opening. “After you, my lady!”

“Thank you!”

You make your way pass the entrance, now entering a world splashed with even more vibrant colors. Blossoming trees stand tall, small shrubs dotted with warm-colored flowers, and bushes branching high wrapped in every color a garden could possibly hold. Few smooth stone benches are neatly placed throughout and behind the stone trail that’s willing to take your around the base of the garden, willing to show you as much as Hyunjin is. Intaking even further little wonders: The small bright caterpillars resting on leaves, red birds chirping their melody, sapphire-blue butterflies visiting, and flowers consisting of either loosely flared petals or neatly compact ones. Even the gentle breeze puffing through makes the garden more alive as it slowly sways.

The sight alone leaves you breathless. Leaves you breathless as it should for being such a lush garden you’ve never thought you’d ever see. Like one that jumped out of a fairytale book. Like one that has been experiencing an everlasting season of Spring.

One step after another and many more. A reaching hand, pointing out to a branch holding small white flowers, petals in a formation of a star.

“I insist you smell this one, it’s one of my favorite scents.”

Fingers gently wrapping around the branch, you pull it slightly down in your face, nose up against the blossom that it tickles your skin. The scent is soft, but still rich in a sensual sweetness. With a helpless smile, you turn to Hyunjin’s face which is rather quite closer than you recall, catching you a bit off guard but still leaving you to maintain composure.

“I see why it’s one of your favorites, it smells very pleasant.”

“Indeed.” His hot breath is felt against your skin, brown twinkling eyes adoring into yours, but only to be pulled away as a hysterical laugh booms from outside the walls.

“Fucking hell,” Mutters Hyunjin who has nothing but disappointment plastered upon his face. “Why must the world be so cruel when all I want is to show you peacefully around.”

“It’s okay, I certainly don’t mind. Unexpected company or not, I am without a doubt enjoying myself here,” You assure the boy, lightly patting his shoulder.

The dark doors open with a small creak, the iron handle given a clinking sound. The garden is now accompanied by three, the extra uninvited guest standing and peering at the two of you, face offering no emotion. The man’s finger scratches the side of his head of disheveled black hair. He stands tall, wearing what seems to be a spade card of seven draped over a black attire.

“Your majesty, I kindly expect to be informed about this situation here,” The stranger speaks huskily, face remaining still as stone.

“I assure you not to worry. I am spending the day with a very good friend of mine, nothing in the absurd. Now, what has had you sent here?”

“The Queen demands a fresh bouquet of fine red roses for tomorrow’s banquet, and with such the finely wild roses here, I bound to return to the castle after picking them.”

Hyunjin chuckles, hand slipping down to grab a hold of yours. “Quite a coincidence! You may go ahead as my dear friend and I were actually preparing to leave.” A lie. Definitely a lie since Hyunjin planned on staying for at least an hour more of telling you tales about the flowers. “Let’s go, Y/N,” He whispers in your ear, which most certainly doesn’t raise any suspicion from the newcomer or any confusion from you at all…

He leads you to exit the garden, hand gripping yours gently but firmly, and footsteps noticeably hurried, nervous one might manage point out. The other male just moves his head, fiercely glaring over his shoulder right into your eyes. That there just shares an anxious shiver down your spine. Everyone seemed more than friendly, or that is, until he approached. The intimidating sight disappears as Hyunjin closes the door behind, now letting out a sigh. A sigh of what? Relief or panic, perhaps both Hyunjin might answer.

Continuing to pull you forward back to where you previously came from, you quietly clear your throat, asking, “What was that about?”

There obviously was something off in the atmosphere once the strange man dressed as a card entered. The short visited garden due to the cold glares and insisted exits, a nervous undertone from your friend.

“I deeply apologize, darling. I did not plan on getting your hopes high only to leave so soon. I’m sorry for any uncomfortable feelings.” He sighs once again, head hanging low. A purposely dodged question, but an uttermost sincere apology to note.

You were itching to ask the question once again of what really had happened, but peering at him and taking notice of the frown that never left his face, you knew better than to. Looking slightly down with eyebrows knitted, he’s clearly deep in thought, and if only you could, you’d even see the worry dancing around in his eyes. Aside from this, something in the air already told you it’d be best to leave the conversation as is. So, to your unfortunates, you push all your questions of concern to the back of your head.

“It’s not a worry at all. Though the time was short, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this happy. So, very much, thank you, Hyunjin! This day still doesn’t fail to come to my appreciations.”

“A relief to hear that, so thank you. If you ache to see more as much as I, perhaps I could take you somewhere else? There’s a lovely river not too far; dozens of rose bushes remain untainted. I could take you there if you’d like. Maybe we could paint too.” He returns your gaze, his frown washed away, but bites his lip from nervousness. “B-but, if you’re not comfortable with that or want to go home, I-I can take you, it’s n-not a problem!”

“No, it’s okay, I promise!” A guilty pleasure: Hearing his stutters and seeing the tips of his ears burning red; It’s adoring to be the most honest. “I’d love to visit the river with the roses you speak of.”

The clouds faintly hang above in the soft pink and purple hued blue. There wasn’t all day left, but like dangerously piling berries in a basket or collecting more flowers than your hands are meant to hold, there still was time to stretch and spend until the last ounce.

And with all worries dissipated, he looks at you with a tender smile and crescent eyes.

And once again, such a look from him doesn’t miss to make your heart flutter.

“AH! So, the truthful words you dare to spill, my own son with such a girl! And despite being cornered in the garden, you dare not to get a hold of her?” Shrieks a high-pitched voice followed by frenzied giggles, all echoing off the castle’s marble walls.

“Your majesty, it did not seem the wisest choice at the time! Making such an impression that has a chance of failing? Why, the prince wouldn’t even let me approach her from several feet away! And—”

“You never fail to surprise me, always going about and missing opportunities like a mad fool with only a crooked mind. Especially when you bring me this news! You’ve outdone yourself, surely!” The Queen bursts out in even louder cackles, her head thrown back against the throne. The man of a seven spades card stands before her, hands fumbling around and nervously chuckling, unsure if he should join in on the laughter and unsure of his next move. The Queen then snaps, straightening her posture, leering with eyes that could nearly tear the guard apart themselves.

“YOU GODDAMN PRICK!!!” Everyone standing within the throne room flinches, which the Queen proudly notices. “Look! Look! I can promise next time will be worse if this girl isn’t in my grasp by the next four weeks! I can’t have the prince abandoning his duties and own throne like this nor does she even belong here. I truly cannot let my Wonderland given to her just like that!”

Every word is spit out with passion. Sinisterly passion. Pure insanity from the Queen of Hearts.

“Perhaps she isn’t as bad as most of us assume, your majesty. Perhaps! You should at least get to know of her and her capabilities,” Suggests the seven spades guard whose trying everything in his strength to not tremble under the intimidating gaze.

“I will gladly take your opinion, but I do have a request or two.”

“Yes, what ever is it you’d like me to do?”

“Follow them. Follow her! I’d like to know everything possible, from her effect on the Prince to how she even got here. But! You hollow-minded fool, please do be most utterly discreet about it.”

“As you wish, your majesty.”

#hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin oneshot #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz ff #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz x you #hwang-hyunjin-x-reader #hwang hyunjin

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themorethingschange · 3 years

Text

Teaser for Ep 12: The Great Imagination Adventure

Remus can't sleep. Virgil can't make him sleep. But he can keep him company. And sometimes that's enough.

Characters: Brotherly Remus & Virgil

Words: 978

Warnings: mentions of dissociation/unreality

Notes: Have a fun little bit that doesn’t quite fit anymore in the episode with the change in POV but was too good not to share <3

—

Remus blinked tired, heavy eyes, pinching the soft skin on the inside of his elbow. The sharp pain helped a little, but not by much. He was still exhausted.

His hands were a little shaky as he dug a finger into an exposed patch of dirt, sending a tiny spark of awareness into the soil. There wasn't much there, dead leaf matter, some uninteresting rocks, good, healthy soil. He sent a little more power out, and found something that sparked his interest.

A spore. Some kind of mushroom, from a species that Remus was unfamiliar with. Frowning a bit, he poked at it, focusing around it.

It wasn't dangerous, that much was certain, and it was not parasitic, so it wouldn't hurt the forest around it. It didn't seem to need anything to flourish in this environment. It was new, carried over from the mother colony by the wind or by animals. All it needed was time to grow.

Remus looked around. It probably wasn't the best idea to do this little trick with how tired he was, but now that the curiosity had sunk in, he found he really, really wanted to know what this strange little mushroom would grow into.

He held out his hand, summoning some of his power and forming it into a small, sheer bubble, glowing the same sickly green as the glow in the dark stars Thomas had once stuck to his ceiling. Carefully, he manipulated the bubble until it encased the spore.

“Whatcha doing?”

Remus bit back a yelp, whirling around and crushing his bubble in the process. “Virgil!” he hissed. “You fucking asshole, why would you sneak up on me like that?”

“I assumed you saw me,” Virgil said, looking confused. “You looked right at me, trash panda.”

Remus swallowed hard.

He didn't remember seeing Virgil just now.

Was Virgil even real? Or did he fall asleep accidentally, and start dreaming again?

“Rem?” Virgil said, suddenly much closer than before. When had he gotten closer? “You feeling okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,” Remus said quickly. He couldn’t just ask Virgil if he was real—if he wasn’t, wouldn’t he just lie?

And if he was real, he’d start asking why Remus didn't know that he was real.

“Uh huh. So it's like that, huh?” Virgil asked enigmatically. Remus gave him a side eye as he sat on the ground next to Remus.

“What were you doing?” he asked abruptly. When Remus looked confused, he twiddled his fingers, gesturing at the ground. “You were doing a trick, right?”

“Oh!” Remus looked back at the dirt. “Just a timelapse bubble.”

“Of what?”

“Mushroom. Didn't recognize it, wanted to see what it looked like.”

Virgil waited. “Well, go on,” he prompted. “Let’s see what it looks like.”

Remus blinked. “Since when do you care about fungus?”

“Just grow the damn mushroom, trash panda,” Virgil said, playfully exasperated, nudging Remus with his shoe.

Bewildered, Remus called another bubble, successfully capturing the spore within it without interruption. He concentrated, breathing out once before he began spinning his finger clockwise around the bubble.

At first, nothing happened for a few moments. Then the ground began to shift slightly, until the tip of a moonlight pale cap began to emerge from the dirt.

Remus felt Virgil move a little closer as he kept concentrating, kept spinning time inside the bubble. The mushroom was soon joined by a smaller cap, emerging from the same thin stalk. The two heads continued to grow, the stalks and caps becoming thicker and wider as they matured. The mushroom actually gave off a faint light, not enough to illuminate the area around it, but enough to draw both sides complete attention in the darkness.

“Pretty,” Virgil murmured. Remus frowned, turning his finger one last time.

His tenacity was rewarded, as the mushroom suddenly bloomed, sending out a cage-like skirt from the underside of their cap in a shocking shade of yellow, so bright it illuminated both sides faces as they gasped in surprise and delight.

Remus quickly ended the trick, eager to keep the mushroom from decaying. It was so pretty and bright.

“Okay, that was cool,” Virgil said, his voice hushed. Remus grinned at him. “Curiosity sated?”

“Yep,” Remus said, his jaw cracking on a giant yawn.

“You can go back to sleep if you want,” Virgil said. Remus shook his head, even though the motion made him a little dizzy.

“Don't wanna,” he said, only slightly slurred, closing his eyes for just a moment. Virgil sighed.

“Alright.” There was a slight rustle of movement, and then a soft, heavy weight fell over Remus’s shoulders. He wrenched his eyes open, staring down at the purple plaid fabric covering his arms. He looked back at Virgil, who suddenly looked a lot skinnier in just a long sleeved black shirt.

“Don't want you to get cold,” he said in response to Remus's unasked question. Remus shrugged, slipping his arms into the warm, warm sleeves, inhaling the scent of ozone and hot air that always clung around Virgil.

Logan said that it was unlikely that any of his waking dreams would affect all five of his senses—that if he checked, one of them would tell him if the thing he was experiencing was fake.

The thing that might be Virgil looked and sounded like him. It had given him it’s hoodie, and Remus ran his fingers along the cuffs. It certainly felt and smelled real.

He didn't think that he could get away with licking Virgil to make sure he tasted real. He was just going to have to go on faith.

Well, if this Virgil was a hallucination, at least it was being nice about it. He mentally shrugged, scooting over on the ground until he could bump against Virgil’s shoulder.

This maybe-hallucination felt safe. And that was really all Remus needed at the moment.

#mirror virgil #mirror remus #mv updates #mv extras #writing #mirror verse #sanders sides #sanders sides fic

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clickingawayatatypewriter · 3 years

Text

Waiting Rooms

- - (long post warning) This is a list of waiting room ideas/inspiration for you! It includes waiting room examples and portal examples- a “portal” being the doorway from your waiting room to your DR. Know that a waiting room isn’t necessary! It’s a place where you can take a breath before entering your Desired Reality, where you can edit scripts or just take a breather for a moment.

1) Childhood Bedroom

This waiting room is something more nostalgic, familiar. This is a bedroom from your past. Having spent the more carefree years here, you feel the tension bleed out of your shoulders, dissipating, and then gone.

You can still recognize the battered old notebooks on your desk, those glittery lisa frank gel pens. You crack a smile. This table is a bit too short, the chair definitely so, but you sit anyways. You open one of the little notebooks so find one of your scripts, holding every detail you wished to remember. If you don’t script, it simply holds a few recollections and details from your DR. This brings a true smile to your face.

This Waiting Room feels like a warm hug. It feels like sneaking out of bed to listen to the TV from the hallway, like drinking warmed milk when you can’t sleep, like holding stuffed toys close to your heart. You curl your toes into the floor and stare up at your popcorn ceiling.

From here, all you need to do to get home is select your DR from the pile of old notebooks before you, then step out your door. Don’t worry; on the other side is a portal to your Desired Reality, and you are going home.

2) Office

The office is a bit dim. The curtains are half-pulled, allowing the hazy light of early morning to filter through. It illuminates the dust flying through the air. The desk is sturdy, the chair comfortable, and the typewriter old.

In the drawer at your desk, there is a pile of folders. Take them out, examine them. Inside is the uniform lettering of your script, as if typed from this same typewriter. Go ahead and read them, decide where you're shifting to tonight. Again, if you don’t script, these are simply recollections and details about your Desired Reality.

Once you have picked the reality you wish to shift to, put the files back where you found them and walk to your window. Take the curtains and gently close them. When you open them again, you will find a portal to your Desired Reality in place of the glass. Step through, now. Go home. You can do this.

3) Old Library

Your waiting room is an old library, as vast or as cozy as you’d like. The shelves are lined with every story you could possibly imagine, every script you’ve written and every notebook you’ve yet to fill. Take one from the shelf, relax in the plush chair by the window. There’s a table next to it holding- is that a quill and inkwell? Edit your script to your liking. When you are ready, dump the remaining ink onto the floor. It will expand into a portal leading to your Desired Reality. When you are ready, simply step through. You are entirely capable of doing this, and you will go home.

4) Heavenly Cloud

This Waiting Room is in a sky-like realm, with clouds in place of dirt and no earth in sight. Perhaps there are walls with huge, gaping entrances; beds of the softest satin; smooth stairs that lead up and down and nowhere at all. Everything is tinted your favorite color. You can see just fine, as if the sun is shining all around you, but there is no sun in sight. You may bask in this soft glow, feeling the cotton softness of the cloud beneath your feet. Can you taste that faint petrichor at the back of your throat? Hear the sprinkling of rain somewhere in the distance?

Here, you are weightless- jump from cloud to cloud as much as you’d like, and know you will never be lost. As you leap across this strange sky, you find that the clouds you’d thought were empty are actually holding sparkling portals in their centers. You can see your Desired Reality in them. Jump through when you’re ready to go home. It will be waiting for you.

5) Greenhouse Maze

The Greenhouse is a labyrinth you never seem to lose yourself in. There’s ivy crawling up the wrought-iron framing, spanning across the fogged glass. The flowers here are soft to the touch, and their aroma danced around you, calming. You can hear your footsteps as you walk, and you know that you are safe.

Every corridor holds a different marble bust or statue. As you draw nearer to them, you realize that they are people and memories from your Desired Reality. Perhaps they are your Desired Self. Examine these marble carvings, touch the stone on which they rest. There, you’ll find inscriptions and secret openings leading to passageways underneath them. These each lead to their own Reality- you decide where you’ll go tonight. You hold all the power you need. Go home, now.

6) Mythical Forest

This place drives away all worry, replacing fear with a content serenity. The sky is dark, but the mushrooms and bugs all glow in the dark, illuminating your way. There’s bioluminescent algae in the ponds, flowers that look like fire lining your path, and rainbow caterpillars that sparkle like disco balls.

As you walk along these old stones, you pass different portals in the form of fallen trees, hollowed out roots, and dark caves. Upon taking a closer look, you find scrolls holding the information you need nearby each portal, carved titles and inscriptions labelling where each one leads. Take your time deciding where you’d like to go, edit your script how you’d like, then go home. I believe in you.

Gratitude! 🥀

I do hope that you all enjoyed this list of Waiting Room inspiration. I might make a post about my own waiting room later on, but as of right now I’m a bit tired from making this great long post. Happy shifting, my loves!

A quick note: thank you so much for liking and reblogging, if you do that! Be sure to send gratitude to the universe, and to yourself. Know that you are powerful! You are perfectly capable for achieving all that you wish to. I believe in you!

#if you're reading these tags #go drink some water #go do it now #i know you aren't hydrated enough #go get ur sips #or else #>:(#reality shifting #scripting #waiting rooms #desired reality #waiting room #wr #dr #desired realities #waiting room inspiration #long post

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hajimewhore · 3 years

Text

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 3.2k words ➷Humor, slight angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, shenanigans ofc, i missed oikawa ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ✈Part 7

Hajime nearly chokes, wiping the ‘potion’ dribbling down his jawline, he presses the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the disgusting concoction from exiting his gut.

“...How was it?”

You try to pat his back sympathetically (he’s gagging now), but you’re the one that insisted he try the mystery remedy first, and you cautiously pull your hand away as he shoots you the most menacing glare he can while he’s coughing into his palm.

“It was made with weird mushrooms and fucking plants, how do you think it tastes?”

Terrible, you guess. And the effects were supposed to be instantaneous, according to a recipe dropped in one of the posts you found… not that you expected it to work.

“Ahh, and nothing happened.”

You rub your jaw semi-thoughtfully, before catching the look on Hajime’s face.

“Uh, Hajime?”

His expression is glaring, not unlike someone scheming for revenge. But that’s silly, Hajime wouldn’t blame you for the potion not working, right?

“It probably didn’t work because you didn’t try it with me.”

It seems he would, realization sets in as Hajime closes in on you, and you panic,

“I think it didn’t work because it was someone bullshitting!”

“Don’t you want to swap back? Just drink it!”

“You’re just mad, get away from me!”

You trip on your feet, stumbling into the kitchen table. It scrapes the tile as your hands clutch for purchase on anything that’ll help you get you away from the madman behind you, but the tablecloth you’ve grasped at isn’t much help seeing as you swipe it off the table entirely. You’d be impressed that all the plates and the flower-filled vase stayed perfectly set on the table from your impromptu magic trick, if it weren’t for Hajime assaulting you.

You cry out as if you’re being brutally attacked (you are, technically–just with plant juice), and Hajime takes you by the jaw and tilts a cup of the swirling cocktail to your lips, sloshing rather unappetizingly in the glass. If the thing had an aura, it’d have a thick gray cloud fuming from it.

“And why would I be mad?”

“Because I made you drink a potion I found on a weird thread even though it was totally suspicious and completely untrustworthy!”

You confess to your sins, the thread was actually some sort of troll that promised the reader would swap bodies with their favorite celebrity, and you cast it aside for the likelihood of that never happening, it was probably a scam to get some gullible teens to drink essentially dirt.

And you admit that initially you thought it would be funny to prank Hajime, jotting down the recipe and conveniently leaving out the celebrity bit, but in your excitement to scheme you forgot Hajime doesn’t take too well to pranks at his expense.

Not without retribution at least, and you find yourself grappling at his wrists, attempting to turn your head away from the glass.

He eyes you with a too eager grin,

“You should try it, really, it might work.”

It didn’t.

It was disgusting.

You have learned your lesson not to trifle with Hajime, and you're no closer to finding a solution to your problem.

You slump onto the kitchen table, feeling especially abused and violated by the plant paste you regretfully crafted.

“That’s number one on the list, what’s next?”

Hajime rests his elbow on the table, chin in palm as he scrolls on his phone.

“Bonk our heads together so hard we pass out and hopefully wake up in our own bodies?”

You suggest. Who knows, it could actually work.

“No thanks, I’d rather not wake up the same way but with a concussion.”

The second Hajime turns down your cartoonish suggestion, his phone lights up and buzzes, signifying a call.

You glance at his phone, “Tooru’s calling you?”

“Fuck. I’ll just ignore it,”

The moment he sets his phone aside, the kitchen door bursts open, presenting none other than Oikawa Tooru, entirely expected given the situation and the fact that Hajime’s parents are still at work.

“Tooru?!”

You blink in surprise, and Tooru frowns at the sight of the two of you together.

“I knew you were ignoring me!”

“What the fuck Shittykawa, who said you could come over?”

Hajime grimaces, forgetting to stay true to your personality in his surprise. Tooru’s brow ticks at the catty response to his entrance.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan, using his terrible nicknames! I didn’t think you’d ever use it on me either, but here we are!”

He folds his arms across his chest, and Hajime covers his mouth.

Shit, he let that one slip in his initial shock.

“Besides, this is Iwa-chan’s house, and I say I can come over! You two have been ignoring me all week and coming up with the shittiest excuses—”

“Oikawa—”

“No, let me finish!”

He huffs, looking more serious than you’ve seen him outside the court. Judging by his posture and the worry in his brows, you can tell he’s been stressing himself lately. You bite your cheek, knowing full well you and Hajime were the root of the cause.

“Both of you have to go to the dentist when the office is closed, really? Iwa-chan studying for a test that’s not for another week, please! Give me a break. Not to mention, every practice you play like shit Iwa-chan,”

It’s not shit, you’re just not Hajime’s usual, because you’re not fucking Hajime. You want to argue, defend yourself and Hajime, but you keep your lips sealed.

“You act like a total weirdo, you hardly talk to your own teammates and friends, and you–”

He turns to Hajime, technically you, scowl ever present.

“You always run off with him after school! And don’t even pretend like you’re not having lunch with him too, Kunimi-chan saw you eating alone together by the art building–ditching me, yeah?”

He’s fuming, and his hair is moving in every direction accompanying his wild, frantic gestures.

The guilt starts piling, and you’re starting to regret yours and Hajime’s way of handling the situation.

To avoid uncomfortable situations and messing up, you thought the best method was to steer clear from everyone entirely.

Clearly that’s backfiring, but it’s too late to erase those actions now.

“Not only have you two spent all week lying to me, you’ve been completely ignoring my calls and texts all weekend too!”

Tooru pauses, rant seemingly over, but neither you or Hajime feel inclined to speak yet, too caught off guard by the outburst, and unsure of what you can say to remedy the situation.

Tooru drops his arms at his sides, glancing away from the two of you, biting his lip. Your shoulders tense when you feel the atmosphere around him drop significantly.

“Are you guys mad at me?”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

You forgot he had feelings.

“Oikawa, it’s not that, I swear.”

You speak first, and Tooru looks to you with an expression that almost breaks your heart right there. Brown eyes glossy, lips in a thin line as if he’s trying to keep them from turning down into a frown, he looks genuinely displeased.

“Are you just sick of me? Are you tired of hanging out with me? I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but if it makes you guys that upset I can stop, I’ll be better.”

In any other context you may quip with a ‘you could stop this whole time?’, but the joke wouldn’t sit right, and Tooru looks entirely too on edge, fingers tapping at his sides restlessly.

Tooru’s always been the type to stay true to himself, unabashedly and unapologetically. He knows he’s flawed, has learned to accept his shortcomings as a person. But here he is before you and Hajime, willing to cast aside his pride for the sake of your friendship. It only serves to guilt you more, considering it’s based upon the lies you’ve built up.

“I promise we’re not sick of you, we just… had something come up that we had to deal with. It’s been really stressful, I’m sorry.”

You don’t particularly care if it’s too out of character, it’s what Tooru needs to hear.

Risking a glance at Hajime, you see he’s shaking his leg and biting his lip, a few of his nervous tics, he’s contemplating something heavily.

“And you can’t tell me? You always tell me when something is wrong.”

Tooru eyes you suspiciously, and it’s true, usually you can tell Tooru anything. But this isn’t something believable, and you and Hajime both decided it’s best kept a secret.

“We can’t, but it’s nothing you did. Don’t worry about it, we’ll start hanging out soon, like we used to, we just have to deal with this ourselves.”

And you hope you’ll be able to, it’d be nice to go back to normal. You did miss movie nights with Tooru and Hajime, and you miss having lunch together on the rooftop.

Tooru thinks for a moment, you see the gears turning in his head, eyes focused. He glances to Hajime, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, still tense on the other side of the table.

Tooru’s contemplative gaze flicks to you, as if he’s had some sort of revelation.

“Did you get her pregnant?”

WHA—THAT’S HIS REVELATION?

“You asshole, shut up!”

Hajime’s choice first words.

“What?! No, no, fuck no!”

You blush heavily at his wild accusation, and Tooru looks visibly relieved.

“Oh, thank god. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, necessarily, and I always kind of expected it, but this is just too soon.”

He laughs airily, as if he doesn’t feel the weight of his words like you do, heavy on your heart. Does everyone have that assumption? That you and Hajime would one day be together like that?

“We’re not even dating, idiot.”

Ouch. Hajime’s adamant refusal jabs at you, and you try to ignore the ache that claws at your chest. That may have stung a bit, but you certainly won’t admit it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be ignoring me like that.”

“It’s ‘cause we swapped bodies.”

You whip your head to Hajime, physically ripped from your disappointment, too shocked he’d blab the truth to Tooru and expect a reasonable outcome from it.

“Hah. Hah.”

Tooru doesn’t even entertain the explanation, arms crossed and eyes disinterested, accompanying the dry laugh well.

“It’s true.”

You hope Hajime knows what he’s doing.

“Funny, and I didn’t think you’d be in on it Iwa-chan, looking so surprised like that.”

Tooru doesn’t even look skeptical, or remotely fazed, as if he doesn’t want to be tricked into falling for something so blatantly stupid.

And normally, he’d be right to, but in this case, you and Hajime were unfortunately not kidding.

“I just didn’t think Hajime would openly admit that without talking to me first.”

You shoot a glance at Hajime, as if to convey ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’, but he merely shrugs in response.

“And you’re a real prankster today too. What’s gotten into you guys? Seriously, are you mad at me?”

Tooru is starting to look a little peeved, visibly doubting your words of encouragement from earlier.

“We’re not mad. We switched places. We woke up last Sunday in each other’s bodies. That’s why we haven’t been ourselves, and that’s why we’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Hajime continues with his explanation, as if Tooru would be any closer to believing it.

Which he isn’t.

“That’s not even possible, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re Iwa-chan, supposedly. What’s something that only he would know?”

Tooru crosses his arms smugly, staring at your body, who is ‘supposedly’ Hajime, as if he’s got you two in checkmate.

This can’t be good for Tooru, but it’s definitely going to be good for you if you’re getting in on a secret.

“Alright. You swore me to secrecy for this one,” Hajime doesn’t hesitate for one second, “that time at the volleyball banquet last year you saw a girl with a ‘nice ass’ in a ‘super mega tight dress’ and wanted to hit on her, but when you tapped her shoulder, she turned around and it was actually Y/N–”

Now this is very interesting news to you.

“H-HEY, STOP TALKING–”

Hajime side steps Tooru’s attempt to cover his mouth,

“And you pre-gamed before the event so you drunkenly admitted to me that you’d still tap that but she’s practically your sister and that’s gross but her ass looked so–”

“I get it okay! How do I know you’re not just fucking with me and broke the secret pact we made?!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off and glares at you, but you’re giving him the widest, shit-eating grin.

“I knew that dress looked good.”

“Enough games already!”

“What about the time in elementary school where you and I went to a volleyball match and you had to–”

“ENOUGH, enough, I believe you, okay!”

Tooru relents, red-faced and practically sweating from his nervous panic.

“I wanna know about the time in elementary school where you and Hajime went to a volleyball match and something happened.”

You put your hand up, wanting to know the juicy details. You thought you and Tooru told each other everything, but apparently there’s some missing gaps in that ‘everything’, and you’re very eager to learn.

“We made a friendship promise and he swore me not to tell anyone but because of the circumstances, he had to—”

“I said I believed you already, stop trying to out me!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off at the best part, every time.

He taps his foot with a huff, bottom lip twitching into a frown. Hajime gives him a smug look, staring back combatively, as if Tooru will attempt to call out bullshit again (he won’t).

You’ll have to remember to ask Hajime about the middle school incident at a later date, but right now,

“I’m sorry we kept this from you, and sorry I kept ignoring your calls, Tooru. We didn’t know what to do.”

You interrupt their staring contest, wrapping your arms around Tooru in a tight hug. You’re the tallest you’ve ever been, and it’s weird to hug him when you aren’t yourself, but you missed your best friend.

“Uh…”

Tooru awkwardly pats your back,

“I was kind of lying before because I thought you guys were trying to shame and humiliate me, but this is really weird and I actually might believe you now.”

“Asshole, that’s all it took?! And stop hugging him like that, it's freaking me out!”

Hajime slaps Tooru on the back, yanking you by the back of your shirt to pull you from the hug.

He grumbles something indecipherable under his breath, contemplating whether he should even say anything,

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

He gives Tooru an awkward, much gentler slap on the back, before slinging his arm around Tooru in some sort of half-hug gesture.

“I-Iwa-chan! It really is you in there!”

Oikawa’s fake tears spring to life as he bends down to wrap Hajime in a hug, who struggles like a cat wanting to be released.

“Get off me!”

Tooru pulls back, wiping a tear from his long lashes,

“I’m still really upset right now, I really thought you guys hated me! So if you could please shower me with adoration, that’d be lovely.”

Tooru spreads out his arms, a pathetic expression on his face that Hajime doesn’t buy for one second.

“Tooru! I love you! You’re the best Tooru, your jump serves are great! Your setting is unmatched! You’re my bestest friend!”

You cheer him on, Hajime is balking that you’d even entertain the idea of doing that in his body, let alone acting on it, but Tooru eats it up with gleaming eyes.

“Quit feeding his ego!”

It’s your turn to be scolded by Hajime, but you just stick your tongue out at him sheepishly.

“He deserves it?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! He didn’t do anything, and we were being bad friends.”

“I’m on your side,”

Tooru slings an arm around your shoulder and gazes down at Hajime, who’s more aggravated now than when he was drinking straight plant paste.

It hadn’t bothered him too much initially, but having to crane his neck up to glare at Tooru is sparking some caveman urge deep inside Hajime to absolutely throttle him.

“Out. Get out of my house.”

“Technically, this isn’t your house–OW, Iwa-chan, that still hurts!”

“Newsflash Asshole-kawa, girls can hit too!”

They can, and you let Hajime prove his point.

“So,”

“If it’s something about aliens, I don’t want to hear it.”

You interrupt Tooru before he can spew something definitely about aliens.

“I wasn’t going to bring up aliens–though it’s a very valid cause you definitely need to consider. I was actually going to ask if you have any idea how long you’re gonna be like this?”

You give Tooru a tired look, and Hajime just ignores him entirely, tired of glaring no doubt.

Tooru’s been lazing around, attempting to ‘help’ you and Hajime, but you doubt he’s accomplished anything aside from scrolling through the same threads you’ve looked through. You’re willing to bet he researched for a minute or two before losing interest, abandoning the task in favor of looking through Karasuno’s and Shiratorizawa’s match history.

“If we knew, we’d tell you.”

You respond, since it seems Hajime isn’t interested in replying.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Tooru props his elbows up on the couch, pausing whatever volleyball match he was watching to drop his phone on his chest, “I saw this foreign family comedy once where the mom and her daughter swapped places, but they had to show each other selfless love and understand what the other goes through to swap back.”

Tooru gasps in additional realization before turning to Hajime, “Iwa-chan, are you her mom?”

The look Hajime gives Tooru is enough to put him in a grave and send secondhand chills down your spine.

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me again! Your hands are pointy and jabby now, it’s hard to get used to.”

Ignoring that,

“Hajime and I already understand each other, we have to put up with you all day.”

“True,” Tooru is completely unbothered by that comment, “I did see a romcom where the two main characters had to kiss at the end, they ended up swapping places like that.”

You don’t like that he casually suggests this with such an innocent look on his features.

“That sounds stupid, watch better movies.”

Hajime grunts out, and you’ll admit that kissing Hajime would be nice, but under normal circumstances preferably. You don’t particularly want to kiss yourself as Hajime.

“I appreciate all your knowledge in films that have body swaps in them Tooru, but this isn’t a romcom, or a movie.”

You sigh, and Tooru hums thoughtfully.

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sits upright with ease, sliding off the couch and pocketing his phone,

“Anyways, I’ve got more practice to do. I’ll try not to be too hard on you tomorrow, now that I know you’ve swapped with that brute over there. Ciao!”

Tooru ducks out of the living room and out the Iwaizumi household before Hajime can assault him, and good thing, he probably would’ve had some bruises from your ‘jabby’ and ‘pointy’ hands.

With Tooru’s quick escape, you’re left contemplating whether that suggestion would actually work or not, risking glances to Hajime across the room.

A/N: not me ending a chapter on a juicy bit again afjknddm, anyways im posting this at an ungodly time but i hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android @cuddlesslut @bumbledunce

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi hajime fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 6/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

accompanying art piece by @monochromegee! check it out here!

~~~~

The more Steve thinks about someone being stuck on the other side, the more he has his heart set on doing something about it.

He hadn’t been a hero to anybody last time they were dealing with the Upside Down, too caught up in his own troubles to do anything useful, and it had cost him the love of his life. He was going to guarantee that he stepped up this time. With more time to think, he defines a plan, “I think you’re right, I think we should get ahold of El. That way we can at least figure out who to go to next.”

“Okay, well, that sounds great and all that you have a plan, Steve, but you’re not calling anybody with this burnt up phone, and I’m pretty sure this is too time sensitive to write a letter.” Robin motions to the broken phone where it still hung from the base.

Steve thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers, “The neighbor would let us borrow hers.”

That’s how they end up in the elderly neighbor Dorothy's half of the duplex, Robin entertaining her in the living room with any random story she could think of, and Steve in the hallway a little ways down, talking low so the unsuspecting neighbor can’t hear what he is saying. To get in, they’d just told her that Robin's phone had just been cutting out, but Steve needed to call his sick mother until they could replace it.

Of course that isn’t true, he instead dials the number Joyce left for all of them to get in contact with her if need be, “Mrs Byers?”

On the other end, he hears a lot of noise in the background, at first worried about a repeat of last night, until the sounds made themselves clear as not doomsday static, but business. There’s a television turned up loud, noise from the kitchen like someone was cooking, talking carrying from a distant conversation, before Joyce’s gentle voice cuts through it, “Hi, honey. How have you been?”

He skips the formalities, trying to be fast for the sake of whoever is trapped, and to get it out before the neighbor got bored of Robin and started snooping, “I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, Is everything alright, Steve?” There’s a hint of concern in her voice he has to swallow before he decides what his answer will.

He decides just to rip the bandage off in one go, “Can you put El on the phone?”

Instantly her demeanor switches. They both knew Steve had no reason other than an emergency to want to talk to her daughter, because the other kids would have done it themselves, don’t need Steve as their messenger anymore, “What is this about?”

“We think there is someone in the Upside Down.” He hears her cover the receiver, and call to El in the next room, a hint of urgency to her tone. There was the sound of the phone being passed between two people before El's small voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hello?”

He again skips a proper greeting, full of too much nervous energy to worry about being polite, “Is there any chance at all that someone could still be in the Upside Down?”

It takes her a second to respond, but her answer is firm, “The gate is closed.”

“I know, but do you think we could’ve closed it on somebody?”

“Why?” She sounds unsure of whether or not she should trust him, so he explains to her, “The phone rang and Robin said it sounded like a bunch of static, and like someone was talking but she couldn’t hear them. It blew up like it did before when Will called.”

There’s a long pause and whispers in the background, like she’s being coached by Joyce, and her answers comes slowly, “Without powers I can’t help. But I have an idea.”

Another pause and her mother takes the phone back, “We’ll come back to Hawkins and figure it out, Steve. See what you can do until we get there.”

The line goes dead before he can thank her or ask how long he could expect to wait, so he sighs and hangs the phone back up. When he returns to the living room, Robin stands up from the couch and the neighbor asks politely, “How was she?”

He furrows his eyebrows, has too much on his mind and has to remember the cover story they came up with before he can answer, “She’s alright. Thank you, Dorothy.”

They’re halfway to the front door when she stops them, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you two, I have the city’s number if you need it.”

Robin smiles politely, “What for?”

“Well, that streetlight outside. It’s been flickering on and off these past few nights, I thought it would be bothering you two being right outside your window and all. I know it’s been driving me up the wall.” She chuckles, not realizing the significance of what she just said to them.

They exchange a look between themselves, both having gone a little pale.

Robin recovers quicker, so she forces a smile back onto her face, significantly less genuine this time, and steers Steve outside with a guiding hand on his back, assuring the neighbor before shutting the door in her face, “That’s alright, Dorothy. We hadn’t noticed actually.”

~~~~

This end of the neighborhood is so poorly lit, but Billy can’t afford to get cornered like this.

He’d taken off from the area around duplex apartment, leaving behind the big monster and running until he finds more street lights, though in a poor backwoods town like Hawkins, only a select few streets nearby downtown or the rich neighborhoods were taken care of, so it’s not until he’s all the way at the other end of the street, almost by the intersection to the next neighborhood, that he finds another dull and flickering street light.

It’s then, looking up hopefully at the dull, flickering light that he realizes this area is somewhat familiar to him, though it's still much farther out than his usually traveled routes between Cherry Lane and Loch Nora.

When things were normal, Billy was so bitter about leaving his home, so he hadn’t bothered getting familiar with the entire town. If it was out of his way, it wasn’t his problem, Hawkins was only ever supposed to be a temporary home for him anyways.

Even now he still wasn’t acquainted with the area, because over here past the neighborhood where he found Steve and Robin is the dark zone, where the storm clouds are thicker and the fog covers what little light there is in this place, and he normally wouldn’t dare stray over this way.

Right now though, there’s a monster that’s already tasted his blood on his heels, so it doesn’t really matter where he ends up.

He follows a long dirt driveway towards that one streetlight, beacon of hope that it was, when suddenly it hits him. This is the Byers’ house.

If there were literally anywhere else for him to go right now other than that house, he’d go there, guilty memories he’d been mostly forgiven for still sitting heavy in his heart, if not just because now all the people he’d hurt that day were still living without him, making new memories and probably remembering his as that same asshole that barged into the Byers family home that night.

But, he’s not out of the woods just yet to be picky, because there’s a trail of blood from his injured arm leading the monster to this exact spot, and that is a monster that already had the taste of his flesh. He’d have to take whatever he could get.

The second he opens the door, under the twisting vines and ash and mold covering almost everything in the house, it’s obvious that this isn’t the same house he’d burst into two years ago, none of the floral couches and knitted Afghans and Merry Mushroom canisters that made for that warm, homey feel of the place that had made Billy feel queasy when juxtaposed with what he’d thought was happening in that house before Steve apologized for lying, and he for kicking Steve’s ass, and gave him a new explanation that was, as he now knew, still a coverup, but didn’t seem so predatory.

Now there were all leather arm chairs, dirty work boots by the door, and empty beer bottles on the kitchen counters. He could tell from the way this house is decorated alone, at least if he imagined it without all the rot and death, that this house had been bought up by some unhappy old man, and he almost wants to be bitter, that he’s going to die in a place that looks like the embodiment of the unhappy future he was damned to even if he made it out of this hell, until something catches his eye.

On display hooks, positioned perfectly atop the mantelpiece, there is a proudly displayed shotgun.

Billy almost trips over the clutter-covered coffee table running to go get it, a feeling like hope in his chest, but when he pulls it down, his heart sinks a little. He can tell from the weight that it isn’t loaded, it’s just some old bastards trophy.

He worries for a second that it isn’t even a real gun at all, but a snarl from the other side of the door reminds him it doesn’t matter if it shoots, it’ll still bludgeon. A weapon is a weapon.

Still, he quickly turns the place over, clearing off that coffee table, feeling along the underside of the mantel for a hidden box, and digging through the side table drawers, in there finding old pills and candy wrappers, spare change and, in the very last place he looks, a box of shotgun shells.

He grabs it, but he doesn’t have time to be relieved, because on the other side of the door, there’s a snarl accompanied by a scratching sound, and he knows that that thing outside is taunting him. Trapping him in so it could toy with him before finally killing him. But he’s not going to let that happen, not now.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed down here, but he had been hurt and starved and damn near froze to death, and he had still survived. All this time it had been for himself, to prove he could do it and maybe, just maybe someday reach the other side, but now he had a purpose. Now he knew his Steve was right there, just out of his reach. He can’t give up now. He won’t.

He takes the gun into the kitchen, where he’ll have a minute if the monster does lose its temper and break in early, sliding to the floor with it so he’s level with where the monsters face would be once it turned the corner, gritting his teeth and lowering the barrel of the gun, his good hand shaking badly as he tries against his nerves and the bite making him weaker to load the shells in both barrels.

At the same time, just as he expected, the monster decides it’s done playing with its food, hitting into the door until the hinges crack and it swings open at an off angle. Billy curses under his breath and tries to load faster, in his panic accidentally catching sight of the bite wound on his arm, and it’s bad. As in, he can’t believe he’s still conscious right now bad. But he tries not to think about it and just locks the gun back in, cocks it, and aims it straight in front of him.

His hands are shaking so badly he’s not sure he could actually fire the gun or hit the monster even if he did, but surprisingly, he doesn’t have to put that theory to the test, because the monster never comes around the wall. Claws scratch into the damp carpeted floor in the room parallel to the one he’s in and eerie chitters and growls fill the disturbingly quiet air. Billy always wondered if that sound was them communicating, or if they were mocking him. Making his skin crawl so he’d let his guard down, be afraid as they tore him to shreds.

But then it just stops again. The house totally silent except for the monster's horribly ragged breathing, and then it leaves. Retreats right out of the front door, and from the rustling sound that carries from outside, back into the woods.

Billy breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, tilting his head back against the wall, exhausted. Above his head he notices a cross, just a little golden thing dangling right above his head, and he laughs bitterly. Some blessing this is.

Because, while he didn’t get viciously eaten alive, for which he supposes he could be grateful in some ways, here he still was, after so many days he couldn’t count them anymore, he was still trapped and alone with monsters hunting him. Now suddenly throwing Steve and his friend into the mix, and he’s got himself the perfect mix of hopelessness and heartbreak and dread making this all the harder.

With effort, he stands again, this time not making the mistake of leaving his weapon behind.

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and his arm really starts to demand his attention. It stings like nothing he’s ever felt before, a horrible sensation that makes his whole arm feel painfully numb. He just hopes the medicine in this house hadn’t succumbed to the elements like most things he scavenged for tend to anymore.

By some miracle, the old man who bought the place up still hadn’t finished unpacking, and right at the bottom of a cardboard box full of old towels is an almost completely preserved first aid kid, fully intact other than a couple of rotten bandages, but those wouldn’t be of much use to him right now anyways.

He tries to remember the rules his dad had taught him the first time he cut too deep, rules which he’d later passed down to Max when she was being nosy after witnessing a fight, following him around while he was trying to get his face to stop bleeding.

Clean it, medicate it, bandage it.

Normally when he was telling it to Max, he’d tack on to the end to go get help if she was bleeding more than a bandaids worth, but that’s not really of much use to him, so he pushes his sleeve up, grateful it had already been rolled up some and hadn’t been torn, and assesses the damage.

He can’t see any bone, which is good enough news, but he can’t see much of anything else from how badly he’s bleeding, which is not so good. He can’t even get a fair judgement of how bad it is with all the gore covering the actual wound, so he walks to the sink to wipe some of the blood away.

The water quality down here varies from day to day, not that he’d ever drink the stuff, he’d a thousand times over raid a monsters den for a single water bottle than put that stuff in his body, but sometimes he’d test it just to check if it was clean enough for him to try and wash away any of the dirt and blood on him.

Sometimes nothing would come from the faucet but disgusting black sludge. Today he was lucky, the water, if you could even call it that, cloudy and speckled, but not unusable. Besides, he would rather get some weird alien infection in his arm than bleed out anyways.

Max’s watch is caked in gore so he quickly runs it under the water too. It’s probably going to fry the stupid thing, and the thought of its familiar ticking being gone does admittedly make Billy a little uneasy, but he’d rather return the watch broken than stained with his blood.

Because that’s really his biggest goal. To keep surviving and make it out of wherever the hell he is so he could give Max back her watch and Steve back that stupid bandana he probably didn’t even notice was missing, and his dad back his jacket. Shove it in the asshole's face and tell him, ‘Here’s your jacket back you old bastard. Mind the blood stain on the collar and the tear in the shoulder. I fucking missed you, dad.’

He's able to get the bleeding to stop with rags, and once the wound is clean, he slathers the bite in as much polysporin as he can find, mostly to mask the heavy smell of blood lingering on his skin that would act like a beacon for the monsters miles away until this hole in his arm heals. He finds clean enough bandages and wraps it until he can barely move his wrist, tugging his sleeve back down over them. He decides not to clean up all the blood, so there was something to distract them from finding him once he leaves.

Healing is supposed to be the hardest part, and Billy had always thought that was bullshit- the hardest part was the betrayal when his dear old dad cracked his bones and left bruises on his skin when there are real monsters out there in the world that don’t give you a hug and an apology when it’s over- but now he knows for sure that isn’t true.

The most important thing is finding Steve again, and figuring out why he couldn’t see or touch him, and could only just barely hear him, but could feel his presence, almost tangibly.

Billy steals another two boxes of bullets, keeping the gun close at his side, and he sets back off for that duplex.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #robin buckley #tw blood #tw gun mention #ej writer #story by ej!#so excited to get this chapter out #because look at that amazing art!!!

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istoleyoursnacks · 3 years

Text

Brunch Time!

I’m posting this on a Saturday night, but it doesn’t matter! Any day is great for brunch, but Sunday brunch is the best, right? Whether you're making the yummy foodies to wake up both yourself and your family (or just yourself like me!), Or if you happen to treat yourself by going out for an omelette, a skillet, or even eggs and pancakes! But a good homemade breakfast/brunch hash is a great way to get everyone out of bed and around the table!

I have a basic hash recipe for you that involves a heaping cup of love. For first time cookers, it's a great thing to get under your belt, and once you feel you've mastered the few ingredients in your pan, you can start adding things, taking them out, and really play around with hash. My hashes are almost never the same (unless I'm being kinda lazy or sick. Sometimes even just the base hash is good enough). You can find it below, as well as a variant or two! Please note that with this hash, I do not use pre-shredded potatoes. I chunk mine into bite-sized pieces!

So, for the very basic hash, I typically use:

1 russet potato OR a couple of handfuls of the small potatoes that come in the one pound bag to equal a russet. Make sure to clean your potato. No need for the extra helping of dirt. Peeling it is optional, but I typically don’t.

Part of an onion OR one shallot. A shallot is a more subtle onion that doesn’t have that sharp taste, and definitely won’t make you cry when you cut into it!

Peppers. Depending on what you want in there, I at least start with a green bell. You can add as many as you want after. I throw in part of a green and part of a red for color.

Butter! They say to use olive oil to be healthier, but let’s face it: butter-fried potatoes are the BEST. Vegan friends can use a hot-temperature oil like canola.

Mushrooms. You can get them pre-sliced, or you can get button ones to slice yourself. Either way, use the stems! They’re edible!

Some kind of meat. This is optional, especially for the vegan/vegetarian friends, but I love a meat in with my hash. You can use leftover steak from the night before, ham steak, bacon, pancetta (which is an italian-style cured bacon/ham. It may be more expensive, and if you can’t tolerate a lot of salt like me, give it an extra rinse in your strainer before adding), etc.

Note here that if I say just butter, you can assume I’m saying butter/oil. :)

So! Here is how I make my hash to make sure it’s cooked all the way! Crunchy potatoes that are underdone are... well, you won’t make the same mistake twice. It has a distinctive crunch. I’ve heard that people used to eat potatoes raw once, but a: I don’t know if that’s actually true, and b: I was very young when I heard this. But anyway! Melt your butter (if you’re making it for two, use 1 Tbsp, use 2 for four people, etc) over med-high heat (my stove is electric, so if you have numbers, I use between 6 and 7. Get that pan nice and hot!). While the butter melts, chunk up your potato(es) to bite sized pieces or smaller if you want, then add to the pan when you start hearing a nice sizzle from the butter/oil. Give the potatoes a nice stir to coat with the butter, then let it be for a minute or two while you slice and dice the onion. If you plan to use pancetta, add it with your potatoes. It needs time to render. If not, then just wait with your meat until the end. Add your onions, then give that pan a stir. Then slice and dice some peppers, then add to your pan. By this time, you should be a: smelling wonderful things from your pan, and b: start to see a nice light brown from your potatoes! Toss in those mushrooms next, then let it sit for a few minutes, stirring occasionally. Let them turn a nice brown, then add your meat that isn’t pancetta or bacon. Give it a nice warm up, and get some fry marks on there if you really want to.

Ta da! You can serve it with a nice egg on top (I fry mine over easy to let the yolk run in there), put some cheese on if you like, crank some pepper, and make some toast!

That was the basic hash! Below are a couple of nice variants! Also, don’t be afraid to experiment with different spices. I give you some tools to help you, but I also encourage experimentation! That definitely doesn’t mean put dried basil on your tongue and see what it tastes like, or trying a teaspoon of vanilla (spoiler alert: vanilla extract is gross). But use this and then try new things/ spice combinations.

Mexican hash:

Add a poblano pepper to your pepper mix, use chorizo, tomatoes, add some chili powder, garlic powder, cumin, and then (if you really want to get fancy!) some pinto, black, or light red kidney beans! Top it off with some hot sauce, salsa, sour cream, and cilantro (but only if you like it!). If you don’t have those specific spices, taco seasoning will work as well. I personally don’t use the pre-made stuff cause it has so much salt in it. If you use chorizo, add it right away with your potatoes, and use a half amount of butter. Chorizo will release an oil when you cook it down, so it will mingle with the butter nicely and you won’t end up with a greasy mess. (hint: use your toast to help mop up that lovely oil on your plate! ;) )

Mediterranean hash:

Add some greens in there! I like using spinach to get juuuuust to the part where its wilting, but kale works here too. Use garbanzo beans (chickpeas), olives, maybe some dill or za’atar seasoning (you can find this blend in the spice aisle of your grocery store. It’s a blend of sumac, oregano, thyme, and sometimes marjoram. If you can, give it a whiff at the store. It’s a very lovely smell.) Tomatoes would go well in here too. Top with feta cheese!

If you make something else and love it, share it with me! I’d love to hear about what you came up with! Also thank you very much for letting me share these with you. Happy brunching!

-Snacks

#foodies!#how to #breakfast hash #snacks' guide to food

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kaeldra · 3 years

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六 (Six)

Summary: The Wizard is skilled in many fields, but the domain of growing and raising things almost solely belongs to Hikari. Even so, he gives it a shot for her sake and the results are... not quite what he had hoped. She loves him anyway.

Another entry in the Hikari and the Wizard: A Hundred Words series! Once again it is very very late, but what can you do. Also once again it is very very out of order, but I do not care. Enjoy!

This fic can also be read on Ao3!

As wide as the scope of the Wizard’s skills is, he is not particularly adept at growing things.

It’s a bit ironic, considering he’s married to a farmer. He understands the principles, of course, and gets to see Hikari’s methods first-hand. She has such success with her various crops, and so he takes diligent notes. He pays close attention to the temperature of the soil when she plants the seeds, how much water she gives each seedling, and the exact shade of the fruits when she deems them ready for harvest. It’s a bit frustrating when he asks her how she knows all of these things and all she can do is shrug, telling him it “just feels right” with an apologetic smile. He supposes that this is Hikari’s own type of magic, one that he may never understand.

That doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

She pours her soul into her farm, and while he does his best to assist her by collecting eggs or pulling stray weeds he finds in the plots, his efforts pale in comparison to hers. Of course he knows that he will never be able to match her in farming ability, but he wants to make a gesture for her in her own language, so to speak. And so he hatches a plan to secretly grow an assorted bouquet of her favourite flowers and give them to her as a gift.

The Wizard realizes he’s lucky that he occasionally goes down to Marimba Farm to buy Hikari’s seeds as he’s walking there one sunny afternoon. No one blinks an eye as he makes his way across the river and into the shop, exchanging a few simple pleasantries with Ruth before stepping back out and realizing that he doesn’t know where he’s going to plant them. Certainly nowhere around their home -- Hikari knows every inch of her farm by heart, and she’ll immediately notice the turned earth where he’s planted them, let alone when they start growing.

Perhaps he can go back inside and ask Ruth if he can rent a small plot of their land to grow them on? He quickly dismisses the idea, knowing that if he does he risks someone seeing him tending to the flowers and telling Hikari before he’s had a chance to give them to her. He’s not sure if he could be charming enough to convince the sharp-tongued farmer anyway; she’s kind enough to him when he comes by on errands for his wife but it’s clear that she would prefer Hikari’s company any day.

So he goes to the only other place he can think of: the depths of Fugue Forest. While he still doesn’t exactly enjoy the Witch’s company, he can admit that they have come to a sort of understanding in which they tolerate each other’s presence for Hikari’s sake. Ever since she had rescued her from her unfortunate amphibian state and subsequently brought her assorted blackberry sweets, the Witch has developed a bit of a soft spot for the young farmer. She just happens to think she has poor taste in men.

When the Wizard finally shows up on the Witch’s doorstep (having collected a Fugue mushroom on his way to give her, just for good measure) and explains his situation, the hag has the audacity to start laughing. Absolutely cackling. He stares at her with an unimpressed glower, and she finally replies as she gets her breath back in gasps.

“You? Grow flowers? In my garden, of all places? I mean, I know you’re still all googly-eyed over her, but this is just too good,” she lets out another giggle, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d willingly get dirt all over yourself, and for a girl no less.”

The Wizard sighs, supposing she’s a tiny bit right. If someone had told him a few years ago that this is what he would be doing today, he would have suspected a head injury. Even so, he can’t let her have the satisfaction. He simply levels a steely gaze at her.

“You didn’t... answer my question. Can I use your garden... or not?”

The Witch shrieks another laugh as if he’s said the funniest thing she can imagine, and the Wizard winces at the volume.

“You’re serious! You’re actually serious!” She slaps her leg in amusement. “Sure, fill your boots! It’s not like I use it much, and it’ll be hilarious watching you get yourself all muddy trying to care for the things. As long as you don’t expect me to do anything,” she adds with another snicker.

And so the Wizard begins making daily trips through the forest to the Witch’s house. Again, he thanks the Goddess for his good luck that the forest is not an unusual place for him to be and it doesn’t cause any suspicion on Hikari’s part. He does wish he didn’t have to deal with the Witch herself -- whenever he visits to care for the little seedlings, he can feel her amused gaze on him from her kitchen window, and occasionally she’ll even lean out and heckle him before going back to whatever it is she does all day -- but all things considered, it’s not so bad.

That is, until he notices the seedlings are starting to die off.He had originally purchased a rather large amount of seeds, causing the witch to cackle at him again when she saw just how carried away he had gotten.

“You’ll have more than a bouquet with that many seeds! You can start your own flower shop instead of telling fortunes!” She had squealed before devolving into another fit of giggles.

But now he’s starting to worry if he’ll be able to pull together enough blossoms to give Hikari at all. It seems every day there are fewer and fewer plants left, and he feels a pang of dismay every time he has to pull up a withered set of leaves.

After weeks of careful tending, he’s left with just a handful of sad-looking flowers. He counts them as he plucks them gingerly from their stems, doing his best not to damage them. Six. He managed to grow six flowers out of the dozens of seeds he bought. It’s definitely not what he had hoped for, but he still wants to give her something and he figures it’s too late in the season to start more seeds now.

He carries the little bundle home, half wondering if he should just give up entirely and find a different sort of gift. Standing outside their front door, he runs through a list of possibilities. He could cook her a nice dinner. He thinks he remembers her mentioning some new calves she saw at Horn Ranch the other day, and considers asking Cain if he’d be willing to sell one. But before he can settle on an alternative, the door opens and warm light spills out into the evening air.

“There you are! I was getting worried when you hadn’t come home,” Hikari says, relief evident in her tone. Her eyes drop to his attempted bouquet, then bounce back up to meet his own startled gaze, full of questions. “What’s this?”

The Wizard rubs a hand on the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. He feels like a child presenting his mother with a piece of macaroni artwork.

“These are... for you. I tried to grow them myself, but they aren’t... as beautiful as I hoped. I hope you like them... anyway.”

Hikari’s face breaks into a blazing smile, and she reaches forward to take the offered flowers. Before he can so much as blink she’s scrambling around in the cupboards for an appropriate vase.

“You grew these on your own? They’re plenty beautiful, I love them. Thank you,” she kisses him softly before turning back to her task of arranging them.

Somehow, her deft hands manage to make the six little blooms look purposefully minimalistic in their vase. They sit proudly on the kitchen table, and Hikari admires them with glowing eyes.

“I never knew you had such a green thumb,” she says later, tucked into his side on the couch. “Maybe I should get you to help me with growing my flowers next season.”

He knows she’s joking, that she doesn’t expect him to actually take her up on it. But he finds himself attracted to the idea. Caring for the little plants was relaxing, in its own way, and of course he’ll use any excuse he can to spend time with her. Even having been married for a few seasons now, that impulse hasn’t gone anywhere.

He squeezes her close, feeling content despite his fumbled attempt at a gift.

“That... sounds lovely.”

#Harvest Moon #Animal Parade #Harvest Moon Wizard #Wizard #fanfic #Harvest Moon fanfic #once again full of CHEESE #I hope u like it #kael writes #Hikari and the Wizard: A Hundred Words

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crystalgirl259 · 3 years

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The Flame and the Dragon Ch18

Chapter 18: The Truth

Kai stumbled as he carried the bundle of clean sheets and thick curtains in his arms while balancing a bucket filled with bars of soap, clothes, and oil polish. Despite taking him back to the castle and tending to his injuries, Cole still gave him punishment for breaking his promise and left the castle grounds. Cole only told him to clean the Lord's room and as a reward, he would let the brunette go for a ride on Flame, who was being pampered in the stables by the staff.

Immediately, he dreaded the job but the thought of seeing Flame sent a wave of joy through him.

Kai chuckled to himself. He couldn't deny it was nice being able to spend time with Cole without having to worry about setting off his temper or arguing with him, but if Cole thought he would be that easy to win over, he was sadly mistaken. His eyes lit up at the challenge until the weight of the objects in his arms brought him back to reality. He groaned in annoyance as he reminded himself of the task at hand. When he found Cole's room again, he was surprised to find the door open and the room empty.

He set the items on a clean-looking spot and dug out the bucket, oil varnish, and a half-melted cake of soap.

He dumped the soap in the bucket and filled it with water from the bathroom, and poured a generous amount of varnish into the water. Supplies in hand, he turned to his opponent and glared. His eyes darted from the dusty furniture to the smudges on the wall, the glass, and furniture scattered across the floor. Fortunately, the sheets had done their job, the couches and chairs were free of dirt. He set the bucket on the floor and fished out the leather gloves the servents had given him and slipped them on, refusing to risk cutting his hands.

Carefully, he gathered the scraps and put them in a pile out of the way until he could figure out what to do with them.

Fortunately, none of the pieces were too heavy or large, but the tiny scraps littered the floor. Dropping to his hands and knees, he meticulously scanned the floor until he'd moved every visible scrap to a harmless location. He sighed and fell back on his knees, pulling off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. Not wanting to ruin any more clothes, he slipped off his jacket and placed it on a nearby chair. He tied a clean cloth around his mouth to keep away the dust.

He grabbed the bucket, the rags, and the rest of the equipment and began attacking the layers of dust covering the furniture.

Painstakingly, he dug into each crevice, leaving a glossy trail in his wake. By the time he finished the furniture, the dust and holes caked the rag, making it useless. He fished out another cloth and attacked the walls. He growled as higher smudges mocked his height and stretched on his toes, scrubbing the black smudges, fiercely. His arm screamed with each stroke. When he couldn't bear the pain, he finally receded and switched hands letting his sore arm fall limp at his side.

He exhaled deeply in liberation an hour later from exhaustion.

His eyes wandered from the pale spots on the wall to the smudges on the floor. Groaning, he dunked a thicker rag in the bucket and carpet and brushed with passion. He stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, his arms ached with stiffness. When the last smudge faded, leaving bright blue in its wake, he threw the destroyed cloth in the bucket and struggling to lift it. His muscles screamed at him until he dumped his burden in Cole's bathroom sink.

Free at last, he rewarded himself by collapsing in the nearest piece of furniture which turned out to be the bed.

He sighed in relief and let gravity sink his body into the softness of the bed, his arms liquefying with numbness when he tried to move them. His legs dangled over the bedside. A smirk of victory crossed his face. Now all he needed to do was replace the sheets and he was done. He lost count of how many hours he'd been working. For all he knew, he'd been asleep most of the morning and it was already late afternoon. He wasn't sure he cared anymore.

Finally, his body gave and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

"Damn, did you do everything?" A voice suddenly said. Kai's eyes popped open. He jumped in surprise and whirled around just in time to see Cole standing in the doorway balancing a tray of food in his hands. His eyes scanned the room from top to bottom, raising an impressed brow. "You did a nice job."

"Thank you." Kai smiled as he stood on his feet, stumbling slightly from the heaviness of his body. "I still have to do the sheets before I can see Flame, right?" He asked hopefully. Cole frowned and gestured towards the window. Kai's heart sank. Darkness had already crept across the sky, and the last traces of sunlight were the deep purple and reds of dusk. "That's impossible! I only lied down for a few minutes!" He protested, his eyes unintentionally drawing him to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass.

"You must've fallen asleep," Cole concluded, looking around the room again. "Not that I blame you, you certainly did more than I expected."

"Damnit! All that work for nothing!" Kai cursed and pressed his head against the glass hard enough for the sound to echo. Cole almost laughed at the teen's mild tantrum.

"Now you will have the entire day to spend with your horse, and it's supposed to be nice tomorrow." He said as he sat the tray on the table, strolled over to the teen, and gently grasped his shoulders. Kai was taken aback when he was pulled from his position and guided towards the table. He took a seat in a chair that was far too big for him. His stomach sang with glee at the sight of the food Shade must've prepared for him. The thick aroma of spices and meats caused his mouth to water.

"Now eat before it gets cold, otherwise you'll give Shade a heart attack," Cole said, motioning for the teen to eat up. "Besides, I know for a fact you haven't eaten since yesterday and you're much too thin as it is." He teased and Kai surrendered, his eyes widening as he took in what Shade had prepared. A large bowl of thick tomato soup with a plate of bread spread with garlic and herbs and mushrooms boiled in butter formed the appetizers. A whole hen baked to a golden brown and dressed with chestnut and hazelnut stuffing formed the centerpiece.

A separate plate of roasted eggs, potatoes sprinkled with parsley and a plate of biscuits sat next to it.

A bottle of light blackberry wine and two jeweled encrusted goblets completed the meal. He wasted no time, and dove for the closest thing he could find. Devouring the soup, a biscuit, and the spread toast, he moved onto the mushrooms. He ate half the chicken before Cole grabbed his hand and offered him a goblet of wine.

"Slow down before you choke." He commanded. He swallowed a mouthful of food and blushed, mortified by his bad manners.

"Sorry, I guess I was hungrier than I thought." He apologized, taking the goblet. He sipped the wine, noticing Cole had not moved except to stop him. "Aren't you going to eat anything?" he asked, concerned. Cole's eyes widened. His face too confused to respond as if he'd never been asked such a question. "Here, there's more than enough here for two." He suggested, offering the plate of mushrooms.

"I... I don't need to eat."

"But... you do eat, don't you?"

"I can, I just don't need to."

"So, in other words, just because you don't need to do something, you don't do it?"

"Exactly."

"That sounds boring," Kai commented, taking an empty plate and set one of everything on it, then filled the second glass with wine. Cole opened his mouth to question the action only for Kai to place the plate and goblet in front of him. Cole stared at the food with confusion, then back at the grinning teenager.

"Did you not hear what I just told you?"

"I heard you, but you can still eat and Shade's food is delicious, I can't eat all of it and he'll be crushed if we throw some of it out."

"I just told you, I don't need to eat." Cole snapped, biting back his annoyance. "If there's no point to things, why do them?"

"Haven't you ever just done something for the sake of doing it?" Kai interrogated, trying to keep his voice civil. "If not for any other reason than because you can, or to have fun, or to try something new?" He asked and to emphasized his point, he picked up the plate and held it closer to Cole. "When was the last time you actually tasted something? I'll bet one bite and you won't stop."

"Why does it matter?" Cole replied harshly, snatching the plate away and setting it back on the table. "If I don't need something, then what's the point? It's such a waste if something isn't done for a purpose."

"It's not a waste! It's not poison and besides, you not eating means it will go to waste and your staff would've worked hard for nothing." Kai scolded, gesturing with a swing of his hand to address everyone who wasn't in the room.

"I adore my staff, thank you very much, but I doubt my lack of appetite bothers them," Cole answered in a dry tone. "They still eat, though I fail to see the reason why, and regardless, they have always found other ways to entertain themselves in the past." He snarled. Kai's brow narrowed but he had a mischievous smirk on his face.

"But not what they want to do, so everyone else is denied their wants solely because you have nothing better to do but wallow in your room? No wonder you're so grouchy all the time, you must bore yourself to death."

"You really don't know when to bite your tongue, do you?"

"Well spare me for trying to bring a little sunshine to the doom and gloom you call your life." Kai protested, getting to his feet. "I just don't understand you, you have an entire castle here, people who adore your company, and all you do is lock yourself in this room and break things! It's like you purposely go out of your way to make yourself miserable and everyone worries themselves sick because of it." He glared and Cole was on his feet in an instant, anger in his eyes.

"I have my reasons and they are none of your concern nor anyone else's." He countered harshly and turned left. Using his smaller stature to his advantage, Kai cut in front of him, forcing Cole to look at him.

"It is my concern and everyone else's when everyone worries about you." Kai protested passionately. "All the time I hear everyone worrying over you and wondering why you've never left your room; the last two weeks, all they did was ask me what happened to you, and ever since I arrived here, I've been wondering what I did to make you so angry with me!" He blurted out. Cole's expression dropped. The anger from before had vanished, leaving Cole's face a mask of neutrality.

Kai froze and bit his lip as an awkward silence passed between them.

His eyes hadn't left Cole's but he felt himself shaking slightly beneath that gaze. Finally, Cole shook his head, a line formed on his lips.

"If you're referring to the incident in the ballroom, you can relax, I'm not angry at you for that; our... conversation just brought up a few bad memories and I overreacted and your rudeness did little to soften my temper so we were both at fault and it's done." He replied and Kai wobbled a bit, almost sick with relief, but another question came to mind. He opened his mouth to ask, but he bit it back. The rift between them was already large enough.

"What is it?" Cole ordered, curiosity softening the command.

"Nothing," Kai replied, lowering his gaze.

"You wanted to ask me something," Cole observed. Kai didn't look up until the tip of the dragon's tail curled beneath his chin. Cole's arms crossed over his chest, an amused smile crossed his face as he leaned over to meet Kai's eye level. "I know from past experience what happens when your curiosity isn't satisfied, so ask." He said humorously, but there was forcefulness as well. Kai had never been afraid of Cole before the previous night, and he wasn't now, but the knot in his gut twisted.

His voice felt like it vanished.

He froze in place, enthralled by the desire to see what was beyond those emerald depths but the fear of adding another layer to the barrier between them was equally as strong. As if sensing the teenager's dilemma, Cole's expression softened. "Whatever it is, I promise I won't get upset." He added. The statement broke the enchantment. Kai closed his eyes and exhaled a breath.

"Is that your family?" He asked. Completely blown away, by the statement Cole's face dropped to one of flabbergasted silence

"What do you mean?" He asked in a breathy voice, releasing Kai from his grip. His tail curled nervously at his feet. Kai swallowed, almost too afraid to ask, but knowing it was too late, his eyes wandered to the painting on the other side of the room. The cloth had been removed when he changed it and now it was open and visible beneath its glass case.

"The painting over there, are they your family?" He asked with concerned eyes, silently praying he hadn't unintentionally tread into forbidden territory. Cole didn't answer, but the look of conflict on his face spoke for him. He was torn between anger, anguish, and something else. Kai opened his mouth to apologize but Cole raised a hand.

"Don't apologize, you were only curious." He said quickly, silencing any apology. Cole swooped past him, quickly strolling to the balcony, and braced himself on the table where the candle rested. His claws sank into the table as he gave a heavy sigh.

"It's alright if you don't want to say anything." Kai blurted out quickly, his mind racing for some way to repair the rift he knew he'd increased. Cole shot up and the second his eyes met Kai, the teen looked at the ground. "I won't pry into your private life."

"It's not that!" Cole said quickly, hoping to remove the young man's unwarranted guilt. "You've done nothing wrong, it's just something I've come to accept; I know I can't change it no matter how much I wish I could, so I've just accepted it." He explained, turning his back to Kai, who looked at him with wide eyes. Realization at their misunderstanding dawned on him, and he shook his head, turning his attention back to the painting then Cole.

"Are you talking about the curse?" He asked, without thinking. Cole shot up, completely astounded by the statement. He knew the boy knew who he was, but he was forbidden to speak of the details nonetheless.

"I read it in a book," Kai explained with a small smile. "The librarian gave it to me, it's my favorite book." He explained, trying to stifle a laugh at the jaw-dropped expression on Cole's face. "I didn't believe it at first, but it told about this castle, the prince who lived here, the sorcerer who cursed him for no sin other than wanting to protect his kingdom; I wasn't even sure it was real until I saw you for the first time and I later found out Zane wrote it."

"I don't believe this," Cole muttered as he collapsed in a nearby chair, his face a mask of pure shock.

"It wasn't that difficult to figure out, everyone does a horrible job of hiding it every time I ask about it, how dense do they think I am?" He explained with a laugh.

"It isn't that, they can't tell you." He explained, noticing the cute look of confusion on Kai's face. "It is part of our curse, no one can reveal the details of it or how to break it to an outsider; Zane is the only exception because he wrote it down." He laughed to himself at the irony.

"Wait, you mean you knew about it?"

"Yeah, who do you think gave him permission to do so?" Cole laughed, standing up. He hooked a hand around Kai's arm, pulling him to his feet with such swiftness their eyes met again. "I was joking at the time, I'm glad he took me seriously."

"Yes, but that still doesn't answer my question." He replied. "Is that your family? You don't have to tell me about them, I just wasn't sure; they look a lot like you, so I just assumed." He added gently. Cole's face was unreadable as he let Kai go. His eyes darted back to the painting of the happy family safely locked away behind the glass, carefully taking in every detail.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked his voice stoic and his eyes absent of emotion.

"Because I want to get to know you." He answered honestly. His eyes and voice held true conviction, not a flicker of doubt. "The real you, not the character I read in a book or the façade you put up to keep people away, I want to know the real Cole." He said passionately. Finally, Cole closed his eyes and shook his head with a small smile at the boy before him. He walked past Kai with a commanding aura. Kai's gaze followed him until he saw Cole had stopped in front of the painting.

His claws gently glided over the glass and gently caressed the cheek of the girl in the painting.

"My mother was the sweetest person you'd ever meet." He sighed sadly. "She had a heart of gold and a temper to match, do not mistake her though, you would not wish to anger her in fact, those who did often wish they hadn't but she was fair in her discipline; all children in the kingdom she considered her own and it was her personal duty to help all the orphans in any way she could; there was not a soul you could find who didn't love her and I doubt there was anything about her you couldn't love."

"She sounds so kind."

"She was a firm ruler, a tough woman, and a very strict parent." He smiled and, for a moment, Kai swore it was the smile of a child longing for his mother. "My father loved us with every fiber of his soul but he was always willing to sacrifice his own time and happiness for the good of his kingdom." He continued. "He didn't sit around and let officials do the work for him and when something needed to be built or when there was a battle, he was there; he always said a King is only as good as the people who follow him and he never asked his people to do anything he himself wouldn't do." Cole paused for a minute to chuckle at the memory.

"That's a good thing to teach."

"That was the first lesson he taught me; respect for my people." The Dragon Lord smiled at the memory. "I hated it when I was younger; always having to go into town and work, but my father was firm with me, especially in his discipline; despite his duties, however, he always made time for us, and every day, he'd take my sister and I horseback riding or he'd educate us on what it meant to be King; he wasn't there as much as I would've liked, but I also understood his reasons." He sighed heavily.

Kai felt his heart jump as he heard Cole speak, never before had he spoken so kindly, so happily.

It was like he was living a dream and nothing else mattered. He stood up and strolled over to his side.

"They sound wonderful." He smiled, recalling his own parents before they passed away.

"They were."

"Is that your sister?" Kai asked, gesturing a hand to the young girl in the image. Cole didn't answer at first. Instead, he knelt down to meet the eyes of the girl.

"I loved my sister the most, even though she was adopted." He replied.

"She was disowned by her original guardian, but it didn't matter to me or my parents; she was my sister and she meant the world to me, I adored her and she looked up to me and I promised her I'd do anything to protect her." His voice was bright with adoration that Kai swore could only rival his own love for Lloyd. "She was so young." His voice faded to a whisper as his forehead pressing against the glass. "She did nothing wrong." He mumbled. His claws clenched, scratching the glass.

"Neither did you," Kai added, with a small grin of understanding. "Is that why you lock yourself away here? To punish yourself?" He asked and the dragon hybrid looked up. Fierce emeralds bore straight into concerned ambers. The younger held still, not pressuring him but waiting for an answer.

"Why are you so persistent?"

"Why do you avoid answering me?" Kai persisted, his glare hardening. "Am I correct?"

"It doesn't matter," Cole huffed before he turned around and started towards the door, his tail wrapping around Kai's waist gesturing for him to follow. Kai dug his heels into the ground, wincing as the scaly appendage tightened. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. Cole tugged on him, but the stubborn teen remained firm, refusing to back down. Finally, Kai slapped the appendage away and glared at the king. Cole winced, more shocked than angry by the strike.

"What is the matter with you?" He demanded harshly, moving to grab the teen, but Kai evaded his talons, refusing to let time repeat.

"Why is it so hard to answer me?"

"Why does it matter?" He growled at the teen's boldness, his tail whipping at his side, filling the room with loud smacks every time it struck something. "Go back to your room, Kai, you're done here." He ordered, pointing to the door.

"I am not leaving until you answer me!" He shouted and Cole saw red. Before either of them could react he roughly grabbed his upper arm and pinned him against the glass, but not hard enough to hurt him, only immobilize him.

"You are the most stubborn person I have ever met!"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you! Now let go of me, this instant!" He yelled as he wrenched his arms, but Cole harshly tugged him closer, making him wince.

"You know nothing about me!" The dragon hybrid snapped, shaking the teen slightly.

"That's exactly my point!" Kai argued, clawing at the man's talons with his free hand, in a weak attempt to earn release from his captor's grip, digging his heels into the ground. "You only tell me about everyone else, but you never say anything about yourself! And when I ask you why you stay here, you change the subject or avoid it? Why! You did nothing wrong! So why are you punishing yourself for a crime you didn't commit?"

"You think I don't know that!" Cole exploded, with such force that Kai went silent. Slightly afraid of the mad anger in the Lord's face, Kai stopped his resistance, paralyzed. He put up no resistance as Cole forcefully pulled him closer. "I know I did nothing wrong! I know there was nothing I could've done! Is it better knowing I could do nothing but watch as my entire family vanished right before my eyes and I could do nothing to save them? That I could do nothing to stop the monster who stole them from me from turning me into this repulsive creature? Yes, I'm well aware of that!"

A disturbing silence fell between them, disturbed only by Cole's heavy breathing.

Slowly, regaining his composure, Kai's gaze softened, and his voice civilized.

"So you are punishing yourself." He concluded in an expressionless voice. He'd braced himself for a blow, expecting Cole to strike him, or yell at him once more, but he did neither. Instead, he responded in the last way Kai expected him to. He laughed. Low pearls rolled off his lips like small dark chuckled, before finally erupting into a triumphant burst of hysterics.

"You think I blame myself for that?" Cole mocked, still laughing. "I'd have to be a damned fool to even think that? Why should I when I know the real culprit?" He asked, breathless from laughing. The Dragon Lord then released him and with a shove, more powerful than he intended, threw the teen back into an armchair he'd backed himself against. Kai hissed at the treatment, but his eyes never left Cole's. Cole strolled across the table, bracing himself against an opposite chair, his head hung low as he continued to laugh.

"You really want to know?" He asked with sadness. Regaining himself, Kai nodded, suddenly alert.

"So persistent, fine I'll tell you." Cole chuckled darkly and his voice drifted off. "I stay here because it's easier this way; it's safer, keeping everyone at arm's length so they can't abandon you because they can't stand the sight of you and they can't insult you or turn you away despite all you've done for them because you're a monster; I've done nothing wrong, but still the world rejects and repulses me; I've long accepted I'm a monster." He explained.

Bitter sarcasm drenched his retort with venom.

Each anguished word, poisoned with a frightening familiarity, all while Kai absorbed each brutal word.

"I just don't like being reminded what I already know." He concluded. "It's just safer this way."

"You fool!" Kai protested in a tone so sharp, Cole shot up. Kai's eyes were locked on the floor, his hands balled into fists at his sides and his frame shook violently with rage. "You're a fool, Cole!" He exploded.

"How dare you!" Cole erupted, rage and betrayal in his voice. He was a fool for accepting sympathy.

"Yes, I dare!" Kai countered, stepping forward until he was face to face with the hybrid. "How dare you just give up!" He paused, voice shaking with anger as he tried to find the right words. "You were betrayed, shunned, and abandoned, I don't blame you for that! But how dare you give in to those accusations! So what?! Just because a bunch of heartless traitors shun you and tell you you're a monster that automatically makes it true? When do you ever listen to anyone but yourself!?" He demanded angrily.

Cole's talons ceased the teen by his shoulders and lifted him off the ground, growling with rage.

"You know nothing! You don't know anything that I've been through! You have no idea what it's to be shunned and hated for nothing! You have no idea!" He bellowed so loud Kai was sure the whole castle shook. Kai flinched at the words, not by the harshness in the man's accusation but by its inaccuracy. He shoved the man off him, so hard, Cole was taken aback by the force and stumbled backward. His legs hit those of the armchair and he fell back, but before he could forget, Kai braced his hands on either arm, pinning the man beneath him.

Stunned by the sudden action, Cole froze, paralyzed by the ferocity and gravity in the intense gaze.

"You think I don't know what it's like to be hated? To be shunned and mocked through no fault of my own? Do you think I don't feel something when I see the way people look at me and whisper about me as I walk by? You don't think I know they think I'm a freak! Just because everyone agrees I'm some brazen youth whose only purpose in life should be to marry some pompous aristocrat, live in a gilded cage, and raise spoiled children until I croak means I should accept it and do it?" His shaking grew work as he spoke.

Passion and rage consumed him, and he narrowed his eyes, biting back the tears threatening to fall.

"At least I don't give up! At least I don't just give up and accept what everyone thinks! Because they're wrong! And I know they are! Even if they all agree, even if everyone and everything thinks you're something doesn't mean you are, right? Even if they drill it into your skull, even if they convince you you're a monster or a freak! That doesn't mean it's true!" He finished screaming, his entire body shook violently. Without bothering to wait for a reaction from the stunned Lord, Kai pulled back and turned to leave, knowing he couldn't keep himself in control any longer.

He didn't get far.

In a flash, Cole blocked the man's path with his wings, carefully placing a talon on his shoulder, and gently turned him to face him, but Kai refused to meet his gaze.

"Kai, wait!" Cole called softly. When the teen looked up, Cole's eyes widened. Tears streaked the teen's face like transparent rivers. Droplets accumulated on Kai's chin until they finally dropped to the floor or dampened Cole's claws.

"What!" The teenager snapped, harshly, furiously rubbing away the signs of his weakness. Even with tears falling from Kai's eyes, fire blazed in them. Those same indomitable eyes he adored, at first sight, blazed with so many emotions at once. Anger, anguish, sympathy, disgust, hurt. It was hard to tell who they were for or what emotions were directed at whom. Frozen at the sight before him, Cole moved a clawed hand to catch the tears, unsure how to react.

The Lord gently brushed his chest, wondering why his heart suddenly felt like it sprang free, and why hit hurt when he saw the tears, he tried so hard to force back fall.

"Kai, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." He choked, sincerely. Kai froze at the sudden apology, barely feeling the leathery wings wrap around him. He found Cole staring at him, guilt and remorse glazed his features. His eyes softened when they met his gently demanding the truth "Are you speaking about me or yourself?" He asked and Kai moved his arm to wipe away his tears before responding.

"Both." He replied. Just then two arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight, warm embrace. Cole gently brushed away the remains of his tears, careful not to prick the delicate skin with his claws. Unable to resist, he carefully leaned down and gently kissed the remaining tears away. Kai froze when the king pulled back, his face crimson. His voice died in his throat, unsure of how to respond to the sudden gesture, even as his finger subconsciously brushed the tender area the kiss left behind.

Cole smiled at the reaction and gently stroked the kindred spirit's soft hair hoping to calm him before gently whispering.

"No one has ever cried for my sake." He whispered as he embraced the boy tighter, enjoying the warmth Kai's body radiated. Relishing in the comfort, Kai leaned his forehead against Cole's chest, the soft material of Cole's shirt brushed against his cheek, cushioned by the lean muscles beneath. Cole wrapped his arms and tail around his waist, his wings wrapping them in a cocoon of bliss. Kai finally collapsed, emotionally exhausted, his body felt heavy with bliss.

The Dragon Lord followed his example, taking the teen with him, fell back into his chair.

His body felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted from his being and the loss of such a weight had left him immobile with peace. Cole hummed as he gently running his claws through the silky brunette locks, not caring whether or not Kai heard him. The teen smiled as he faded in and out of consciousness and exhaustion started to take its toll on him. Cole closed his own eyes, letting his hand fall limply at his side...

****************

When he opened his eyes, Cole couldn't recall where he was. He closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment, gently brushing his claw through his black hair. He looked down, feeling a heavyweight on his chest. He almost jumped up in surprise when he found his house guest curled against his chest like a cat. Once the memories returned, however, he calmed himself down and smiled. He had to admit, Kai looked adorable while he slept.

So peaceful and innocent, without a care in the world.

The opposite of the fiery, strong-willed spirit he was when he awoke. Cole decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. He carefully gathered the teen in his arms and carried him to his bed. He brushed aside the veils with his tail and gently placed the boy on his side, pulling the comforter over him. His eyes fell back on the half-eaten tray of food on the table. He tested it with his finger. It was cold but not enough to be inedible. He paused for a bit when he heard a stir behind him.

"Cole?" Kai called half-consciously. Kai rolled onto his stomach and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blearily looking for the other man. He found him by the table gathering the food and goblets from before.

"I'm just cleaning up," Cole said over his shoulder. He watched as Kai rolled over and sat upon the bed, kicking off his boots and letting his jacket slip from his shoulders. Perhaps letting him sleep in his clothes wasn't such a good idea. He left the plates on the table and strolled over to the wardrobe, searching for something light. His eyes darted to something bright on the table. Closer inspection revealed the garment was a folded pile of red silk glowing like a hot beacon among the dark color scheme.

He snatched up the garment and let the slippery material fall open, revealing an angel-sleeved robe that fell to the knees.

The size indicated it was much too small for him but saw it would fit Kai perfectly. His sharp eyes caught a white note in the pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes skinned it over, instantly recognizing Harumi's handwriting.

For Kai, since he'll probably need it.

His jaw clenched and his face reddened as he crumpled the note in his hand, reminding himself she was too valuable to kill. He could just hear the implication. What the hell did she think they'd be doing? Cole purposely chose not to answer that question. He took a breath and composed himself before placing the garment over his arm and exiting the wardrobe. Having grown used to his dragon scales, sleeping in his clothes no longer bothered him.

When he returned, he paused for a moment.

His eyes drank in the delicious sight of his house guest stripped to only his pants. Cole smirked, licking his fangs at the delicious creamy-caramel skin, briefly wondering if it tasted as sweet as it looked. Deciding to take advantage of the situation before the teen returned to full waking, he slowly strolled over to him. His tail grabbed the blanket as Kai climbed back into the bed. Kai growled, half exhausted, annoyed, and yanked the comforter.

Cole won the small war, the younger being too tired to argue.

When he noticed Kai's eyes starting to brighten, he waited until the teen turned to glare at him. When Kai did so, he held out the robe to him, smiling. Kai blinked in confusion as the slippery material fell into his hands.

"It isn't very comfortable sleeping in your clothes," Cole answered the unasked question. chuckling slightly at the boy's confusion. Realization caused Kai's eyes to bulge and he looked at Cole, then robe, then down at himself. Kai instinctively pulled the robe to his chest, his face scarlet as he glared at the smirking king.

"Cole!" He howled, more from mortification than anger.

"Relax, you can change in the bathroom." Cole smiled, gesturing to the door next to the wardrobe. With as much dignity as the teen could muster, Kai stood up, still clutching the robe, and disappeared into the bathroom. He released a sigh of relief seeing that it was clean. Chuckling, Cole returned to his earlier work, glaring down at the chicken bones, empty plates, and goblet. The wine bottle had been resealed, but the second goblet was still half-full and small amounts of appetizers littered the smaller plates.

"It would be a waste," He agreed, gathering all the food onto one large plate and stacking the dirty ones. He grabbed the half-full goblet, debating its fate. Dumping it would be a waste, but he couldn't return it to the bottle either. His eyes narrowed at the tempting liquid. He couldn't recall the last time he had wine. Hadn't Kai said something about seizing the moment?

"Oh what the hell?" He finally decided, raising the goblet to his lips. A mixture of richness and a sweet woody tang ignited his senses. His eyes flew open. The small sip turned into a large gulp, then another, then another, determined to capture the burning the liquid brought him. He gorged himself until every drop was gone from the goblet then wrenched it away to breathe. "God, I'd forgotten how good this stuff is." He said loudly as if buzzed by the minimal alcohol.

He wiped his mouth on his shirt and turned to the appetizers.

He scooped up a biscuit and took a bite. It was cold and the butter had hardened, but the combination tasted divine. He downed the other half in one gulp, unable to resist the pleasure it brought to his taste buds. He grabbed another appetizer, this time, a piece of bread with the garlic and herb spread and bit down. The bread tasted harder than the biscuit but the pasty spread had softened it, the sharpness of herbs leaving a bittersweet desire for more.

He swallowed the delicious treat before eating another one, deciding to savor the taste before it was gone.

Potatoes dripping with garlic butter went down thick and creamy. Next was the stuffed mushroom. Juice trickled down his chin and the rich, stuffing crunched in his mouth, savoring each bite until he could stand it no longer and swallowed the rest. He licked his lips and fingers, determined to capture the remains of the taste before opening the wine again and downing the rest of the bottle. The taste of berry juice flushed his senses while the sharp brisk of alcohol burned his throat.

He gulped the juice, not even bothering to stop as his lungs screamed for air and his throat burned.

He pulled the bottle from his lips and gasped as the final drop went down. He was buzzed from the ecstasy of the experience. He wobbly placed the empty bottle on the tray and carefully got to his feet. The buzz of drunkenness beginning to slip away as his body cleared his system of the alcohol.

"I told you so." A familiar voice chuckled lightly. The Dragon Lord almost dropped the bottle. His heart plunged into his stomach as he whirled around, just in time to catch the wide grin on Kai's face as he leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were brilliant with triumph and his grin nearly split his face, alerting Cole he had seen the entire scene. Ignoring the blush on his face and the large bruise on his ego, Cole got to his feet and glared at the teen.

Kai said nothing.

He removed himself from the door and walking back towards the bed, the red robe he was wearing perfectly molded his form and leaving nothing to the imagination, but Cole barely noticed. His blush worsening and his glare hardening as Kai's grin spoke more than a thousand voices. Kai sat on the bed and smiled at him, daring him to counter him.

"Go to bed!" Cole finally snapped, plopping down on an armchair. Kai smiled and shook his head...

#The Flame and the Dragon #beauty and the beast #ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago harumi #ninjago shade #ninjago neuro #ninjago nelson #ninjago echo #lavashipping

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5lazarus · 3 years

Note

Hi Lazarus! from the hurt/comfort prompts: “Hey, just look at me. Breathe.” Thank you!!

this story got completely out of control, but I vomited up 2.5k words from this prompt! thank you for sending it! I had a lot of fun with this little story, and while I don’t think I managed to bring it to a successful resolution, it taught me a lot about pacing!

to recap, you inspired a whole story idea with the first hug prompt you sent me. I was thinking about what Hawke & friends must have gone through, escaping Kirkwall, and how utterly miserable and emotionally shattered every single one of them must have been. what would that emotional catharsis have looked like? then ellie-elfie sent me a few prompts, which I looped into the story you inspired here, and then ended with this. I posted it on AO3 as Catabasis, though I realize I stopped the story before they go back underground. Thanks again for inspiring this. This was a lot of fun!

The warm wet of the woods washes away the ash of the last of Kirkwall. Merrill winds them through the muddy woods. She makes them take their shoes off to confuse their tracks, despite Anders muttering about hookworm and Varric’s hatred of dirt, and routinely casts a spell to shift the leaf litter back over their prints. “It’s going to look like elves were travelling, if they’re looking at all,” she says. “Not four humans, a dwarf, and Dog.” Dog barks merrily at the mention of him and Fenris shushes him. “In Seheron, we had caligo lagoenae,” Fenris says. “Can you do something similar?” “Fenris, I don’t speak Tevene,” Merril says shortly. Hawke puts their hand on her shoulder. She is still irritated over the grammar argument in the cave, and Hawke knows she has refused to learn Tevene as a point of principle. Bethany’s said that the best way to learn old magic is to read the magisterium’s journals. Merrill has said the only elves who know Tevene are slaves and slavers, and she would rather not. She continues, “Do you know it in Common? Or is it a spellword?” Fenris snaps, “Don’t patronize me,” and now it is Anders’ turn to step in and diffuse the situation. “I can work up a fog,” he says. “But you’re better at nature magic than I am, Merrill.” They don’t bother asking Bethany, because Bethany is best at curses and massively destructive rift spells. Hawke smirks to themself. Their family always makes a splash, wherever they go--good thing Merrill knows how to cover it up. Merrill weaves and thickens the humidity of the already cloying woods into a thick fog. Bethany summons a small flame and leads them forward, Fenris at her side, checking for signs that his underground left. Aveline sighs. “Creeping through the forest with a thick fog, as if that’s not suspicious.” She shakes her head. Fenris made her change into a light leather armor and leave her guard’s uniform behind. She looks close to the worn woman that Hawke met, all those long years ago, with the security of Kirkwall of her back. She still clutches her sword. Hawke is sorry they made her throw away the Amell family shield. They cannot help but suspect Fenris took some pleasure out of ordering Aveline out of her uniform. They’ve wanted to do the same for so long too, but they know the only way to balance their friends is to step out of the way. Aveline is an idealist, perhaps even more than Anders is; she finds her disillusionment in her own way. Hawke mutters a curse as they step into a particularly noxious puddle of mud. They’ve pushed her further down it, certainly. “Dunno how you stand this,” Hawke says. “The mud. The bugs. Fungus. Do you ever think you’re going to get infected with, like, mushroom people?” “Mushroom people,” Varric mutters. “That’s a good one. Better than lizards.” “No, really,” Hawke protests, scraping the mud of their feet on a tree. Merrill, irritated, waves a hand and the mud hardens and falls off. Hawke blushes: right, that’s a very clear mark a person was there. “Sorry. But, we’ve all seen some strange things in our time in Kirkwall. Amulets that turn into strange witches who can turn into dragons and eat darkspawn. Trees that turn into angry men-spirit-elf things that guard tombs. An actual ancient elvhen god, living in the sewer.” “You know, it’s not so clear Xebenkeck was one of my people’s gods,” Merrill says testily. “She is referred to as both a Forbidden One in our lore and a Forgotten One in the Chantry’s interpolation of the Tevinter text, and--” “Pedant,” Hawke says fondly. “But given all the weird shit we’ve had to fight, I feel like we’re due for some mushroom people springing up on us.” Merrill says, “That’s not how the Fade works. This is land still roved by the People. Think about it like a garden. A good Keeper prunes back the rot and the overgrowth, and leaves space for growth. And burns it out, when necessary. Kirkwall hasn’t had a good Keeper in a long time.” “Or First,” Fenris says nastily. Merrill says, “That demon took Marethari, Fenris. Not me. And if you’re not able to understand that, I don’t understand how you’re able to tolerate Justice and Anders and not what I did with Audacity.” “Because Justice isn’t a demon,” Anders says angrily. Merrill sighs. “I haven’t the time to argue Chantry propaganda with you. You can lead a halla to the water, but you can’t make him drink. I don’t understand how you can hate the Circles and still impose the way they shape the Fade--” “Oh, come off it, you’re worse than Velanna,” Anders says. “Even you have to admit, that time Hawke dragged us into the Fade, that demons mirror Andraste’s teachings on the seven deadliest sins.” “Only because Andrastians outnumber us now,” Merrill argues. “Because when I dream with my clan, we see spirits inherently different--which implies that there is no set form, as you say. What’s the line between Justice and Vengeance, anyway? Between Pride and Fortitude, Audacity and Courage? Fenris, you must have seen how Seheron feels differently than, say, Minrathous, or Kirkwall, or even Wycombe and the Friendly Homes. Where the Fade touches the Waking World--” “They’re going to go on like this for hours,” Varric says. “And I don’t understand shit. Sunshine, why don’t you ever join in?” “Both of them are far too proud to be fun to argue with,” Bethany shrugs. She pushes the lick of flame over her head and nudges it onward. It warms her tired face. Hawke thinks that she looks like their mother, as beautiful as her too, and Leandra would be furious to see the mess their children had made of their lives, on the run again. But she would be happy that they were alive. They troop through the forest, wet and muddy and irritable, and eventually even Anders runs out of things to argue about. Hawke grows comfortable in the smell of Merrill’s petrichor spells. Though the mud is admittedly unpleasant, they like the feel of wet grass sticking to their feet and legs. The woods are loud, Merrill’s magic feels like a hug from her herself, and they feel like they may just get through this. The ground grows rocky as they climb into the Vimmarks. Varric, though he hates inclined surfaces, argues that it is safer to stay in the mountains and follow a winding path past Ostwick rather than risk crossing them and skirting so close to Starkaven. “Prince Charming won’t think we’ll go up,” he says. “Trust me. One thing Sebastian knows about me, is how much I hate hiking.” They set up camp in rock shelters Merrill picks out. She knows this part of the route better than Fenris. Rain sets back in at night. Hawke wonders if Merrill inadvertently summoned it, with her fog spells. It is hard to gauge what a mage can do, because their friends regularly do the impossible. Varric has plucked arrows out of the air, Fenris can pass through walls like a lyrium-infused ghost, and Aveline took down the eldritch horror of a rock wraith in the Deep Roads. The feel of the caves is fantastic. The air tastes good, somehow, fresh and hungry, and the walls are inscribed with runes, layered through the ages. Some of them Merril can read, and she and Fenris sit down with a notebook and they go over them together, Merrill saying the words aloud and Fenris trying to write them down. Anders sits next to Hawke as they watch them. They are all tired, but the tension has been easing the further they get away from the city. They are not sure any of this can be resolved, but right now, they are too tired to fight. “Has Fenris been teaching you his dialect?” Hawke asks. “Merrill tries with me, she’s very particular about it. Says my accent is adorably shit.” Anders says, “Justice knows Elvhen. I--sometimes I know it when he says it, sometimes I don’t. It’s easier when the Veil is thinner, but gives me a headache.” “Huh. So spirits speak Elvhen.” Hawke turns to Bethany. “How does that work?” She is the Fade expert, out of the trio, though Bethany disengages with grace whenever Merrill disagrees with her. Bethany shrugs. “Dunno. Maker’s first children? Anecdotally I’ve heard that elvhen mages are more susceptible to the Harrowing--” “That’s not true,” Anders interrupts, “that’s because of templar bias and the way they’re discriminated against--” “Let me finish, Anders,” Bethany says, irritated. “As I was saying. There seems to be a stronger pull between elves and spirits, and Merrill thinks is has to do with Dalish cosmology, though that wouldn’t make sense because Orsino--well, no one has actually studied it. And now no one will, not with what’s happening with the Circles. If they don’t just kill us all.” “Fiona won’t let that happen,” Anders says, face hard. “The Liberati have enough of a majority to push for a vote.” Bethany snorts. “Didn’t know you were that engaged in Circle politics.” “I voted,” Anders protests. “Until it was no longer useful for me.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hawke says. “I’m gonna go talk to Varric instead.” The days proceed much like the rest. People talk. Hawke listens. They learn that Isabela, Anders, and Merrill have all met the hero-wardens of Ferelden before. Merrill comes from the same clan as Warden Mahariel, though Sabrae split before the Blight. Anders still corresponds with Surana, who lives in Amaranthine to avoid the stress of warden politics and to support Warden Tabris, who Isabela hooked up with in Denerim. Isabela also slept with the Left Hand of the Divine, they discover, and the King of Ferelden’s lover. “Though we couldn’t talk him into bed with us,” she sighs. “Though Zevran and Tabris and I really tried. He just--I think he got overwhelmed by all the anatomy. Poor boy.” Hawke snickers. The days go on like this, aching their way through the Vimmarks. These are the paths the Dalish take, and escaped slaves, and occasionally mages. They find marks of all three groups overlapping, though Bethany casts enough obfuscation hexes to keep them from intersecting that she collapses in her bedroll at the end of each day, shaking. Likewise cleaning their tracks begins to take a toll on Merrill. She withdraws into herself, focusing on relentlessly hiding their trail, and not even Varric can get her to laugh. “I’m tired,” she says. “And I need to focus. Please stop.” Hawke decides they need a rest day at the border of Hercinia and Wycombe. Fenris knows a cave system that will take them directly to his friends from Clan Lavellan, who promised him refuge the last time they saw him. He claims it will only take two days, but it will be two days without sunlight, and Hawke remembers how depressed Varric got without the sky. They camp in a treehouse built into a grove right below the mouth of the cave. Everyone is quiet, for the most part, curled around the fire. Aveline hums as she patches a shirt for Isabela, and Anders goes through his medicine bag to reassure himself they have enough to heal them through to Wycombe. Varric stares into the fire. “When I write about this,” he says, “I think I’ll keep this for myself.” “Why?” Bethany asks. He purses his lips, thinking. Hawke wraps their arms around Merrill, who is already half-asleep, and enjoys their friends. It is always fun to watch Varric think, he’s the cleverest out of all them, except maybe Merrill. Merrill buries her face in their arms, and they look down, concerned. She is upset, and there is nowhere private to ask why. The fire casts shadows over his face. Varric looks old. They all do. It has been a hard month. He says finally, “Because there’s no romance in it. No one wants to read about the Champion and their friends all fighting, and not really coming to any consensus besides that they want to stop fighting and be safe. There’s no moral in it, nothing uplifting. Just that people fight, viciously. That we make mistakes we can’t fix. And we just have to live with it. It’s not compelling. Not like our story in Kirkwall, which is more about Kirkwall. Who are we without the city in the background? I don’t know. I think I’ll end it in the docks. Or maybe with us watching the city burn. So people can assign us closure. Choose their own happy ending, because I don’t know what ours will be yet.” Isabela says, “Nothing special, just pieces.” She stretches again. “Keep talking like that and you’ll end up a Qunari. Our story doesn’t need a moral, Varric. That’s not how life works.” “I know that,” he says. “But that’s not the point. The story isn’t life. So I can make it work however I want.” Merrill pushes herself up in Hawke’s lap and whispers in their ear, “If they all start arguing again I will either scream or cry, I haven’t decided yet.” The journey has taken its toll on her. Hawkes examines her closely and sees the shadows like smudges under her eyes. She’s paler than usual, and she starts shaking. Hawke inclines to the edge of the treehouse with their head and quickly they move as far as they can from the others. Bethany looks at them questioningly, but they shake their head sharply. Mercifully they are left alone. Bethany is a good sister. She knows exactly when to look the other way and cause a distraction--and that she does, wheedling Varric to read a piece from his book. As the others laugh at the mess Varric has made of them, Hawke turns to Merrill. They ask, “Are you alright?” The fire casts light into Merrill’s eyes like a cat’s. When she looks at them, her eyes shine and Hawke cannot help but remember how otherworldly she is. She bridges both worlds, the Dalish and the human, but sometimes the old magic wills out. Merrill says, “Clan Lavellan doesn’t like me much. Because of Marethari. I don’t get along with their First. And I’m not sure how their Keeper will respond to me.” “Then they’re idiots,” Hawke says, “and we’ll keep moving. Send Aveline to resupply in town, and move onto Rivain. Dairsmuid or Llomerryn, or that Dalish town Isabela talked about.” Merrill is shaking harder now. “No.” Hawke takes her hands, but she pulls away. “I wish it were that easy, vhenan. But there won’t be anywhere to go. Not with the Dalish. Because of me.” “Hey,” Hawke says. “Just look at me. Breathe. That’s not true. Look at me.” Merrill’s eyes flash back to blue. “We got this far, okay? And I’m okay with--I didn’t grow up as nomadic as you, but I can do it. It could be fun. I liked moving, as a kid. Bethany and I are used to it. And if we can get another ship, well, that’ll make things easier. And you know Isabela’s going to get us on a ship at some point. I know everything is changing. If the Divine calls that Exalted March...well, you remember what that dragon lady said.” “Asha’bellanar,” Merrill corrects, lips twitching. “And it was a prayer to Mythal that revived her, there’s something in that.” Hawke sighs. “Well, you remember what she said.” They close their eyes and focus on the words, which has haunted them since--partly because the delivery had been so terrifying. They quote, “‘We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment...and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.’ And, well, we’re lying up in the sky right now, so I think we’re doing alright.” Merrill smiles despite herself. “How do you remember that?” she asks. “I don’t even remember it like that.” “Varric wrote it down,” Hawke confesses. “And it sounded so cool I memorized it. It’s good advice.” Merrill turns to the fire, where Aveline is holding a book with a luridly pink cover over the fire while Anders and Isabela cackle and Varric jumps, protesting. She says, “I know I shouldn’t have let Keeper find out about Audacity. She thought I was weak, but I knew her pride, I knew her arrogance. And her fear, since Tamlen died. I should’ve written to Mahariel, who could’ve convinced her. Or gone to the Applewood--but I didn’t. And though I lost my clan, I still have you. My aravel.” She gestures to their friends. “Walkers of the lonely path, who never submit.” She smiles sadly. “I think I fell into that abyss, Hawke. And now I’m starting to float up.” Hawke takes her hand and kisses it. Her nails are bitten to the quick. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” they say. “Can you teach Anders that spell?” “No, vhenan,” Merrill shakes her head. “It’s--it was part of my duties as First, to clear the tracks of the aravel. I can’t teach a human that. I love you all, but that is for myself.” They accept that, and all the ways Merrill pushes herself too hard, and hand-in-hand they get up and rejoin their friends at the fire. There is a touch of mania to the conversation. Everyone is utterly shattered, but they do not want to go to sleep. No one knows what the next day will bring, and they are clinging to the routine they have set up. Hawke blinks and pretends that they are at the Hanged Man for a moment, but the bar has run dry, so they are all stuck being sober and chummy with each other. It doesn’t work. It feels dishonest, and the woods smell too good. Finally, Aveline takes charge. “We need to rest. Especially you, Merrill. Those spells couldn’t have been easy. We’ll get up before dawn and head out then.” Fenris speaks up. “And Clan Lavellan will hide us, for however long we need.” He looks at Merrill steadily. “First Lavellan promised me that. They will not abandon their vhenallin. And she owes me a favor, anyway.” Varric says idly, “There’s a story in there.” Bethany groans. “Not more stories, please,” she says. “Aveline’s right, we do need to rest. This part’s nearly over.” She banks the fire to keep it burning low through the night and they set up their last camp before the descent. Hawke is struck by the faith they have in them, going through their nightly routine. They have been two weeks on the road, camping through the woods, and though they have spent it mostly at each other’s throats, they have made it through. So little has been resolved, and there is still so much unknown. As Flemeth predicted, they stand balanced on the precipice of change, and they know they are about to launch themselves off that cliff. But they have their friends to slow that crash, and by this point, who knows? Maybe the witch will turn them into a dragon. Settling into their sleeping roll, Hawke cannot help but grin. They faced down the Blight, the long march to Kirkwall, the Deep Roads, their mother’s death, and the start of a revolution. What could possibly happen next? They whisper to Merrill, “I feel like this world is dying. It’s monstrous.” They smirk. “Monstrously exciting. Can’t you feel it? A new world is trying to be born.”

#catabasis #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #fanfic #hawke #merrill #anders #fenris #aveline #dog #varric #bethany #hawke/merrill #anders/fenris #musetta3

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jomiddlemarch · 4 years

Text

Anna

“I know it’s box wine but it’s good. Well, it’s actually really good if you consider how cheap it is and there was a 2-for-1 special, so you should try it, you really should, Kristoff,” Anna said, so emphatic the red wine she’d poured into a freebie plastic cup from a random ball game (Phillies? Who knew?) nearly sloshed out and over his hand. Her two braids swung wildly under the blue paisley bandana she’d tied over her head like the cutest babushka in the world, ostensibly to keep her clean during their move-in. She had smudges on her cheek from scrubbing the windows and the knees of her denim overalls had turned black, but at least her hair hadn’t gotten dusty. For a small studio apartment, it had a truly impressive amount of dirt—the windows had been filthy, the oven was streaked with grease, and the fridge had nearly made him faint—and he was going to vet school, no stranger to strange manure. They’d done their best and it was looking much less disgusting but they’d earned a round of drinks and it seemed like what they had was box wine. He took the plastic cup and gently tapped her smiley-face mug, then took a gulp. It wasn’t bad and the second swallow was pretty nice.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to work so hard to convince me. I’m not your fancy-pants sister, I don’t need a vintage and a bouquet,” Kristoff said. He drank again, more like a polite adult human being and less like a parched animal at a trough. Was it rich and oaky? It didn’t taste like cardboard and it wasn’t too sweet or too vinegary. “It’ll go good with the pizza—meat lovers and veggie. And yeah, I got extra peppers, no mushroom for you.”

“Two pizzas? Just for us?” Anna asked. Kristoff’s friend Sven had loaned them his pick-up, but he hadn’t had time to help load it or bring the furniture and boxes up the three flights. Kristoff figured paying for the gas and the first round of beers the next time they got together would be an adequate thank-you.

“We didn’t hire movers and the leftovers will be breakfast. And we have to celebrate—moving in to our first place, survivingmoving in and that couch of yours—is it made of lead under all that corduroy? Anyway, we can get back to your budget tomorrow,” Kristoff said.

“You make a fair point,” Anna said. She was maybe a little tipsy, definitely flushed, and she needed a few slices in her before she had anymore box wine. She twirled around as if she were wearing a ballgown and laughed delightedly. “I can’t believe it’s all ours! I feel like a queen in a palace!”

Kristoff was about to say Babe, look around or Cool your jets because the studio apartment was just this side of a dump and he was going to be squeezing his over 6 foot frame in a double bed because that’s all that would fit in the so-called “sleeping alcove” and trying to cook a double batch of chili on a two burner stove, but Anna was so excited and happy and it was their first place, just theirs, within their measly budget with enough left-over for 2 pizzas and box wine. Anna’s sister Elsa might turn up her nose at it, accustomed to the gingerbready Victorian out in the country she and Anna had inherited from their parents, but he and Anna wanted to be together, in the city, close to his vet program and her new job at the newspaper and they’d pulled it off.

“A dancing queen?” he asked, tapping his phone. ABBA filled the air and Anna’s bright smile got sweeter as she started to shimmy. Kristoff leaned back against the small Formica countertop and watched, memorizing the moment. Memorizing Anna.

#kristanna #modern au #the menzingers #anna #kristoff #anna x kristoff #the-spastic-fantastic #romance #humor #fic #from song lyrics #amy adams #is my live action anna #fic on spec #gift-fic #frozen 2

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

Text

(A little fic where Billy and Steve are dating and they’re toting Max and Lucas off to a date in their own separate cars)

“You nervous?” Steve asks, shifting his eyes over to look at the boy sitting next to him.

One Lucas Sinclair is currently sitting in the passenger side of Steve’s BMW, rolling his eyes at the older boy. They’re en route to The Hawk -seeing as the mall was destroyed by some otherworldly creature brought about by the government and the Russians that of course Steve knows nothing about- for Lucas to go see Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome with Mad Max herself.

It makes Steve smile just thinking about two of the little twerps having a date like this.

“No.” Lucas says on a scoff. “I’ve been out with Max before.”

“Yeah, but this time you two are gonna be alone. In the dark.” He lays it on real thick, enjoying picking on Lucas- maybe a little too much.

Steve isn’t blind to the blush that pushes past the boy’s dark skin.

“Uh huh, while badass dudes beat each other up. So romantic.”

Steve laughs.

“C’mon, this is Max we’re talking about. Billy’s sister? She probably loves all that rough-em up stuff as much as Billy does.”

Steve could go on, but doesn’t think doing that with a 14 year old is the best decision here. Sometimes he forgets he has to pick his words carefully when he’s around the lot of them. His filter has had quite the work-out in the past year.

Lucas’ face twists into a rather intense look of confusion.

“What… Billy likes to watch people get beat up? Or Billy likes to... get beat up?”

And now it’s Steve’s turn to blush. Hard. His filter is blaring sirens at him, making sure he doesn’t give the boy any more information than he needs to know. In fact, Steve thinks he doesn’t need to know any more information at all.

Change the subject change the subject-

“Be careful.” Steve blurts out, his mind racing through what he’s trying to say but his mouth not following quite as fast. Lucas gives him another weird glance before he can explain. “No funny business, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t want your boyfriend getting mad.” Lucas says with more boredom in his voice than irritation. The words confuse Steve though and he looks over to Lucas for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

“Huh? Billy?”

Lucas nods in response, looking at Steve like he’s dumb for even having to question it.

“I’d be more worried about Max if I were you.” Steve admits. “She might rip your arm off if you try something she doesn’t want you to.”

Steve had dated a girl like Max in the past. Back at the end of Freshman year. She was a Sophomore and after she broke up with him 3 weeks after they became official, Steve had the thought that she might have done it just to take pity on him. Or maybe as some kind of dare.

But either way, when they went to the movies and he tried to reach his arm around her shoulders, she pulled on it so hard she almost dislocated it.

Steve shivers at the memory.

“Seriously?” Lucas asks. It sounds like he doesn’t believe Steve even for a second. “But Billy is like, shredded.”

“Yeah…” And if they get into a car crash or something, Lucas can thank himself for putting the image of a shirtless Billy Hargrove into Steve’s head. All that soft, tan, flawless skin. Those toned pecs, the healthy layer of fat that just covers his gorgeous abs, that wicked V of his hip bones as they reach down to... he has to shake the images off before he gets too far away from his current position. “But Billy won’t know anything unless you get caught. Max, on the other hand, can fend for herself. I’ve seen her put you in a headlock at least twice before.”

“Max wouldn’t actually hurt me though!” Lucas is adamant. It’s pretty cute.

“Sure, maybe not. Still, though, I’d rather have an angry Billy than an angry Max on my hands.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re-”

Lucas cuts himself off and when Steve looks over at him, there’s an even deeper red tint pushing through his dark complexion. Steve can’t help but smirk at the boy’s extreme discomfort. It’s endlessly hilarious to both him and Billy that the kids are so terrified of talking about the idea of them having sex. Lucas just clears his throat, shifting in discomfort.

“Kissing him.”

Steve guffaws, laughing even harder when he sees Lucas pouting and huffing.

They pull up outside of The Hawk and see Billy and Max on the corner, clearly getting under each other’s skin. Steve parks and sighs at the sight.

“Already going at it.” He says with a shake of his head.

He loves Billy. They talk about it late at night. And after they fuck. And when they get drunk, and when they get high, and when they’re at the quarry and the sun is setting and things are soft and special. And he loves his fighting spirit too. He can understand being irritated to hell and back because of these kids. But sometimes, when Billy is still complaining about El scratching his new record in her excitement to play her favorite song, or Will scuffing his boots while running through the house, or Max being ungrateful for Billy driving her everywhere, all while Steve is licking at his neck in an attempt to turn him on? Sometimes Steve just wants him to calm down for a second. Especially to let him get his dick up.

They step out of the car, walking up to the bickering siblings. Billy is bent down a bit to get more on Max’s level as he speaks to her heatedly. Steve can just barely make out the words Billy is saying:

“-touches you, hell if he so much as looks at you wrong, you tell me. Alright? And I’ll kill him.”

Steve and Lucas stop next to them and Max is able to roll her eyes before the two even notice their dates have arrived.

Billy’s eyes slide over to Steve, who just gives him an unamused look. Billy straightens his back and clears his throat.

“And it’ll be a quick and painless death.”

There’s an almost nervous look that falls across Billy’s face at being caught threatening the boy. Bless him. Max, on the other hand, has her arms crossed with what Steve is pretty sure is the biggest shit-eating grin on the planet right now. It’s kind of funny, especially next to her semi-nervous brother.

“What was that you were saying, Billy?” Max asks, looking up at him with a smug smirk.

“I was sa-”

“Does that same thing apply with Steve?” She turns her mischief-glinted eyes over to the new boy in question. “Sorry Steve, but you can’t touch him and if you look at him wrong, I’m going to have to kill you.”

Steve is chuckling at the girl and her guts.

“You’re a little shit.” Billy grumbles at his sister, smacking the top knot she’s bundled her hair into. She smacks his arm soundly in response.

“Why don’t you and Steve go run off into the sunset already? We have a movie to catch and I don’t wanna be around when you two start sucking face.”

“Shut up, you brat.” Billy hisses. “Steve and I can do what we want. Just because you guys are so immature you can’t handle that we fuc-”

“Ugh! Gag me with a spoon.” Max covers her face with her hands. “You’re so gross, it’s embarrassing!”

“Embarrassing, huh?” Billy asks, placing his hands on his hips and letting a devious smirk fall across his lips.

Uh oh. Steve knows this isn’t going to be good.

“You know, Lucas…” Billy starts, voice sickly sweet and eyes promising nothing but poison. “I have a lot of dirt on Max, if you ever wanna know some real embarrassing shit.”

Oh no.

“Billy,” Max’s tone of warning is low and threatening. “Do not-”

“Max is obsessed with the Muppets.”

Here we go.

“Billy!” Max looks up at her brother, scandalized.

“She still watches Sesame Street every morning.”

That one almost gets Steve. He smiles a bit at hearing it but keeps his chuckle down.

“Holy shit, stop!” Max is yelling now, looking like she’s about to punch him.

Billy is clearly getting enjoyment out of this, smiling a thousand watt smile at a very nervous and confused looking Lucas.

“She gets combination pizza but takes everything off of it because she likes the taste it leaves behind without actually eating all of the mushrooms and peppers.”

“Billy is allergic to bananas!” Max blurts out immediately.

Steve knew that. But it’s the look that Billy gives her- a terrified glare with the promise of murder running through it -that leads Steve to believe there’s something more to this story.

Max is holding her own, though. She’s staring up at Billy as he glares daggers, eye contact in lock with utter commitment.

“He’s known since he was a kid but he wanted to impress a boy so much that he shoved a whole fucking banana down his throat at the boardwalk and then immediately broke out into hives.”

Holy shit. Steve didn’t know that.

“Wait, really?” Steve can’t help but butt in here, because he hasn’t heard this story before. Billy looks over at Steve like he’s simultaneously begging for mercy and promising slaughter. “How old were you?”

“15.” Max supplies the answer. “He was babysitting me when it happened.”

“You’re so fucking dead.” Billy’s voice is gruff.

“He knows all the words to every song on that ABBA album with the helicopter.”

Steve is going to burst from holding in his laughter. He knows Billy likes ABBA but wow...

“I will murder you.” Another promise.

“I caught him singing Dancing Queen into his hairspray bottle a month ago.”

Steve’s heart pulls a little at how cute that one is. And how hysterical the image is.

“Max makes out with her poster of Ralph Macchio.” Billy spits back.

It sounds like Lucas is silently choking.

“Billy tried to do the Risky Business slide and broke his nose on the ground.”

Oh my God.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself. The siblings start to argue like it’s what’s pumping oxygen through their lungs. Steve is still trying to wrap his head around Billy dressed like Tom Cruise sliding around on his socks and dancing around in his underwear. He himself attempted that when he first saw the movie. He split his chin on the ground.

I wonder if he’ll get upset if I ask him for an encore performance…

Steve comes to when he feels someone smacking his arm. He turns to see Lucas, who is looking at him with extreme concern on his face.

“Uh…?” Lucas starts, looking back at the bickering siblings who are now yelling about… peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?

“Uhhhh…” Steve mirrors. Eloquence incarnate, that’s what Steve Harrington is.

“Max?” Lucas tries to call out.

It feels like whatever they say at this point will fall on deaf ears. There are a lot of rolling eyes and exasperated groans in between pretty heavy sibling bickering. Steve’s not even sure what they could still be mad about at this point.

Steve gives a semi-terrified look to Lucas, who mirrors it back. With a raise of an eyebrow on both of their parts, they come to a silent conclusion before both looking towards their dates.

“Billy?” Steve calls at the same time that Lucas calls out “Max?”

“What?!” Comes the synchronized response.

And who says they’re not similar?

“I love you.” Lucas and Steve chorus together, looking at their respective partners.

It’s then that a rather hearty blush falls over the once arguing pair. The two of them fall silent, their scrunched up faces falling into shock, mouths open and eyes a little wide and cheeks so pink it’s adorable.

Look at his sweet face-

The moment is over in an instant, however. There’s a flash of red hair as Max rushes forward, smacking Lucas’ shoulder with little force, but still threatening enough.

“What the hell! Why are you getting all sappy on me when I’m obviously in the middle of a fight?” She yells into Lucas’ unassuming face.

Steve would be worried if he didn’t have his own problems to face. Namely one blue eyed, blond haired problem that is descending upon him like a tornado.

“Shut the fuck up Steve this isn’t the time!” Billy is yelling, grabbing at Steve’s shirt. Steve throws his hands up into the air immediately, submitting to the rage of his boyfriend. He knows this isn’t the time to pick a fight.

“Alright, alright!” Steve is exasperated. In a second he’s being pulled away, watching Max drag Lucas into the theater by the front of his shirt, grumbling about how they’re “going to be late for the damn movie” and “you better buy me popcorn after this” and “my brother gave me money for the tickets, shut up, Sinclair.”

Steve tunes into his own boyfriend now, who’s also still grumbling about his “stupid boyfriend” who “butts his head into my business” and “you’re real damn lucky you’re so pretty, Harrington.”

And in a flash, Steve is being pushed bodily against Billy’s blue Camaro. His vision is a little swirly as he watches Billy check their surroundings before shoving their lips together in a kiss that makes his knees go weak. A couple seconds later he’s being shoved into the car and Billy is in the driver’s seat and they’re speeding off to some undisclosed location, hopefully to fuck on the hood of the car.

(find it on AO3 here)

#harringrove #lumax #billy hargrove #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #stranger things #stranger things fix it #stranger things 3 fix it #humor #funny #fic #btw #lumax is a dumb ship name #sorry huns ♥#they're cute but wow the name is awful

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eights-of-spades · 5 years

Photo

Supply and Demand 12/31

It was not entirely clear what Taji Tumet sold out here, except she did it without having to pay into the licensing structure of the Eorzean Alliance and without fear of inspection by Idyllshire's non-existant law enforcement. Nothing looked to be of much value at first glance; the sacks had the texture of sand when poked, and a half-open crate bearing the stamp of 'ARUN ALCHEMICAL' only showed a top layer of rocks. The rest was just scrap lumber. The Xaela had just finished a loud and frankly nonsensical conversation with a goblin, who was reassuring her that windsails would be available the end of the next span, and that no, he did not want to buy dirtsponges. "But these mushrooms are very good," Taji was insisting, palms flat against the counter, leaning over it and flashing plenty of teeth at the smaller creature. "Very fresh. You like VEGETABLES don't you."

Eight was ‘blending’. Also known as overdressing for any occasion. His favorite pastime that didn’t include drinking or stealing things. He was incognito as your run of the mill adventurer/craftsman. The miqo’te sauntered up to Taji’s counter, resting his elbow on the stall’s top as he grinned in a way that clearly said he was up to no good. Looking between Taji and the goblin she was trying to pawn some mushrooms to. The goblin and Taji. Back and forth. “Best dirt sponges you’ll find outside the Shroud. Have you ever had one? They’ll make your braincage explode with flavor.” He declared, making the mind-blown gesture with the hand he wasn’t currently propped up. “I came here all the way from Southern Thanalan just to buy them. Good thing you don’t want them now I can have them all to myself.”

Taji visibly brightened at Eight's appearance, flashing him an appreciative lopsided grin that was indistinguishable from any other threat display but for the excited twitching of her feathered tail. "Gobbies already have many eatplants..." The creature protested in between audibly ragged puffs through its mask. It seemed somewhat impressed to be addressed directly by such a fine specimen of engineering, though - Eight could have easily passed for any of the magitek technicians that came to the area to assist the goblins restore Sharlayan technology. "...Did this one really fly all the way from sand castle to buy these?”

“...Yeah, did you?" Taji asked him, curiously, fingers splayed over the side of her mouth to render the question inaudible to her hapless customer. She banged her fist against the table and gestured to the withered purple fungi, "And these will flavor your eatplants. Buy them. Buy them. Three hundred gil. Buy them. I'm supporting your business, you should support mine! Else I will ask this fine gentleman where he docks his airship."

Ma’sae remained leaning rakishly against the counter, plainly enjoying the spotlight as he seemed to have both Taji and the gobbie eating up his performance. He picked up one of the mushrooms tossing it up into the air before catching it and turning his hand over to show the tiny beastman. “Of course! The shroud doesn’t do business with outsiders like you and me, friend!” He declared to the Goblin. “But this fine lady has product for all! Best taste, best prices. Fairest trades. Now while I said I was going to buy them all myself, I would feel terrible if I sent you off without even a few after telling you how great they are. Too cruel, too cruel.” He declared as he set the mushroom down on the counter in front of the prospective buyer. “Go on, get what you need for you and your loved ones. They’ll thank you. I’ll buy after you.”

The goblin had begun babbling to itself as it set a money pouch on the counter and pushed it towards the dark-scaled purveyor without committing to letting go of it - plainly nervous at Taji's cheerful threats to revoke her business. Ma'sae's reassuring pitch had it looking at the basket in a new light - and so the jinglyshine was exchanged, and the goblin waddled off happily with a few additions to its stew. >

"Thanks for your participation in the food chain!" Taji called out after it, swiping the money pouch before Eight could get to it and tossing it up in the air. She tracked its motion up in the air with the angle of her shoulders, and it landed in her hood. She turned to the other Keeper and beamed at him. "Two hundred and ninety-eight gil," she informed him. "Family discount! Especially if you haven't bought Starlight gifts, yet? Lux loves reminders from the Shroud!"

Eight snorted and picked up one of the mushrooms, wiping some of the dirt off of it before he took a bite. He immediately made a face and set the bitten mushroom back down on the basket where he had retrieved it from. “Nope. I still hate mushrooms.” He declared cheerfully. “Nah, not gonna buy any but you’re welcome for the extra sales. ANOTHER BUT. I will in the future. How do you feel about custom orders.”

Taji paused at the question, tracking the motion of the mushroom he had just put back. Her grin lessed by several degrees; her eyebrows settled unevenly over the scandalized squint of her eyes. "You think you can just come to my place of business and bite my wares? Do I come to your warehouse and randomly drink out of your potion bottles and fill it up with water to disguise what I've done?!" She did. Taji just reached over to yank the offending item out of the basket and finish the job, finally answering around a mouthful of bitter fungus. "What kind of order? I didn't think you were interested in my line of business, but--" She swallowed. "You wouldn't be the most unlikely customer I've had."

Eight grinned and waggled his thick brows as he was scolded. It was just a stupid mushroom. “Listen, what I’m bringing here is gonna be worth more than an entire turn’s worth of fungus.” He promised as he leaned further onto the counter to lower his voice. “What’s a mage’s prize possession. The thing they value more than even their stacks of books, stuffy robes and fancy sticks.”

Taji gave him a dubious look, finishing the rest of the mushroom in a series of thoughtful and unladylike bites as she considered the riddle. 'Hats' seemed like the right answer, and she mimed flicking up the brim of some feathered monstrosity she currently wasn't wearing. "Their heart," she said instead. "Even if they have nothing else, they've still got one last thing to barter away."

“Great, that’s good.” He declared, pointing a finger gun at Taji as though to indicate she’d shot the target dead-on. “But I can’t sell them an extra heart for double the dubious decisions. But what’s almost as good as an extra heart…” He began, then decided maybe this wasn’t the best game to play with Taji. She had an artist’s spirit and a bard’s mind. She’d come up with something from way out in the far fields and he’d spend all day dragging her back. “Soul crystals.” He answered for her. “Crystalized knowledge and intuition to let them unlock unknown potentials.”

Taji slammed her hand down on the table, sending the entire thing shuddering - but it had been heavily reinforced by steel to withstand even the most energetic of xaelic monk gestures. "Aetheric fungi," she declared, apparently agreeing with him. This was the good thing about Idyllshire - they could talk about such things out in the open without fear of having it carry to the wrong set of ears. "The fastest path to reincarnation. Yeah. As good as selling an extra heart. Or charging them for removing theirs and hiding it away somewhere." She propped her elbows on the table, plainly intrigued. "...You're bringing me some? Are you -- err." Eight didn't actually read the reports, and Taji wasn't convinced Jyhun was honest about what they'd recovered from the corpse.

Eight lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Here’s the problem. Lots of people want them, almost nobody has them.” He explained plucking a mushroom and setting it down on the countertop. Then a few carrots as well. “One mushroom for all these carrots. Doesn’t work. Only one gets it. Not a huge problem because mushrooms can be grown.” He dropped a few more onto the counter as well. Mostly just making a mess now rather than actually illustrating anything useful. “Now what’s say we could grow soulstones.”

@exmhachina

#ma'sae #eight #taji #supply and demand #the start of something terrible and wonderful #and probably very illegal

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