Nude bra and panty set, rough terry robe, her trotters shoved hastily into stiff penny loafers with the leather heel folded down, probably on the wrong feet. Adrenaline still thrumming, the bites on her back starting to itch. And he’s standing there lit by candle flame, his eyes like bryophyte on oak bark.
What if she lets him kiss her? It’s the split second thought of jumping off the cliff, of turning into traffic—l'appel du vide—she could just lean forward and sweep her tongue across the pillow of those lips. He’d have her on her back in thirty seconds, those long sweeping fingers three knuckles deep, she knows this intrinsically, can smell it on him like he could smell the crazy off Monty Props.
Gross misconduct, a career in tatters, but the urge is so compelling she has to squeeze her fingernails into her palm until the pain distracts her.
“Scully?” he says, bending his knees to get a look at her eyes. His face is open, gentle. He’d be a generous lover, irritatingly eager to please. Probably masochistic.
“Sorry,” she says, stepping away slightly, averting her gaze from his. She spots the Georgetown hat he wore on his run, a powdery white ring of dried sweat an inch up the canvas like a high water mark.
“Listen, I’d be freaked out too,” he says, and she’s finding his compassion off-putting. She doesn’t want him to think she can’t handle this. She remembers the few cadets at Quantico that tried to help her over the obstacle course wall. It rankles.
“Where’d you get the candle?” she asks, looking for a distraction. A Pottery Barn pillar in a roadside flophouse—where did he get the damn thing?
“Over there,” he gestures vaguely to an end table. “Scully, are you okay?”
He rests a heavy hand on her shoulder, squeezes.
One more mental flash of her sitting astride him, pinning him to the bed with her eyes.
“Yeah,” she breathes, finally looking up. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
She lets him tell her about his sister. Follows him into the void.
the process of ghost and soap getting married is an… interesting affair
of course, initially they just elope without the ceremony and fanfare because neither of them have the time nor the particular want to make getting married a huge deal, but then soap and ghost’s mothers catch word that they had gotten married and nearly demand they do something, at the very least, for family
(they both find out because price somehow manages to let the whole thing slip not once, but twice)
it takes convincing but eventually ghost and soap concede and plan a small ceremony just to appease the families (and they’re both momma’s boys, so how could they say no in the end?), and while everything goes mostly according to plan, there are a few things neither of them had accounted for in having their respective families in the same place at once, never having previously met
the mactavishes, for the most part, share similarities with soap in that they are also talkative and incredibly outgoing. the rileys, decidedly, do not share these. save for beth, and joseph, who is just happy to hang around other kids his age, and in the beginning it makes things just… slightly awkward. and painful. everyone tries their best but it just isn’t the same in comparison with how soap had wormed his way into ghost’s life and heart within their own dynamic
thankfully after the proper reception things seem to settle and balance out, common topics are discovered, and finally ghost and soap can breathe without worrying something would go horribly wrong with their families not liking each other
(however, in the moment they lacked the foresight of the consequences of their siblings becoming friends—being that there would now be far more ammo for bullying both ghost and soap in every which way possible)
heating goes out in stark tower so peter and tony have to huddle for warmth together with angst and fluff due to the fact peter cant thermoregulate please
Sorry it’s not a fic fic. SFW!
x
Peter says he’s the one with bad luck, but Tony’s luck is infamous. The backup power system is due for regularly scheduled updates between 2AM to 3AM. Despite checking for weather patterns that evening, a late-night thunderstorm takes a southern turn at the last moment. Lightning strikes the tower, and the power goes out.
The main doors won’t even open, nor the ones to the lower parking garage. It’s his own fault for creating a security system that would shut the Tower up tighter than a Venus fly trap at the first sight of tampering, even if that tampering came from Mother Nature herself.
Tony goes to fix it because who else could? Systems are fried, and even after hours of effort, he’s barely made progress. He’s going to have to go out on the roof to assess the damage more closely. 45 degrees is warm for fall in New York, but 1100 feet in the air, the wind whips the collar of his jacket and stings his eyes—and the pouring rain doesn’t help.
He’s soaked to the bone when Peter finds him. Tony barely recognizes him beneath a comical amount of clothing layers. He looks ready for an Arctic expedition. At the sight of the kid (who is spending the break between college semesters at the Tower), Tony is relieved at first—an extra set of hands would be perfect. But one glance at the panicked brown eyes peeking out above a wool scarf tells Tony that something is very wrong.
“I’ve never told you this or anyone this because there’s never really been a need, I mean, the suit has built in heaters and anytime I’m too cold I just go inside or wrap up in one of those blankets MJ is always getting me for Christmas, but—“ “I appreciate the context but give me the abridged version, Pete, I kind of have a situation I’m trying to deal with.” “That’s just it, Mr. Stark.”
Who could have expected Tony to know that the only thermoregulation spiders are capable of is behavioral? Peter could bask in the sun—if it were out. He is already sheltering—but his shelter is growing colder by the minute.
“Blankets worked okay at first,” Peter says, watching Tony pace brainstorm in the penthouse. “But the sun has been down for hours and I’m so cold, Mr. Stark. I tried running, jumping jacks, but I’m not able to generate enough heat, and—look.” Peter holds up his hands and the fingers are white and bloodless.
Instinct makes him reach out and take Peter’s frigid hand between his own. Even though he feels cold too, he is blistering in comparison. Peter groans at the warmth, a pleasured sound that makes Tony’s stomach flip.
He lets go, reluctantly.
They spend the next twenty minutes brainstorming to no avail.
“We could start a fire? I see your expression, but it would be a very controlled fire. Surely I’m capable of—alright, you’re right. Fuck, kid. Maybe we need to just evacuate you. We can’t go out the front door, but you swing us somewhere warmer.”
“‘Kay,” Peter slurs from beneath the blankets where he has been silent for the last five minutes. He’s no longer shivering. “I’m g’na be late for school, though.”
Tony knows hypothermia when he sees it. If Peter’s cognitive functions are being affected, then his decreasing temperature is becoming dangerous.
Tony begins to peel off his wet clothes, hands shaking. It’s the cold he tells himself, not fear. Not terror that he could be watching Peter’s life slip away before his very eyes.
“I hope you can forgive me, kid, but we’re about to get closer than you—well, than you probably ever wanted to. You can hate me in the morning, at least you’ll still be alive.”
He scoops the kid up—Jesus he’s heavy, probably from being solid muscle—and takes him into the bathroom. The smaller the room, the easier it will be to keep warm. He fills the claw-footed tub with blankets and saves Peter for last.
The kid is too out of it to even acknowledge being unwrapped like the world’s most convoluted Christmas present. Tony leaves the kid’s boxers on, feeling like enough of a creep as it is.
Into the tub they go, Peter plastered against him back-to-front. Tony drags more blankets hastily pulled from his bed over them, tugs the kid’s hat down lower over his ears, and just holds him.
He ducks his head against the crook of Peter’s neck and just breathes, warm breath fanning over his skin.
Maybe he prays, though he’s maybe prayed a lot in his life, and he hasn’t seen much proof that anyone is listening.
When at last Peter’s entire body begins to shiver again, the relief Tony feels makes tears sting at his eyes. Beneath the blankets, he runs his hands up and down the kid’s arms, working to generate more friction. Eventually, the young man in his arms stirs.
“Wh’re are we?” Peter mutters at length, nearly causing Tony to jump out of his skin.
Tony laughs a sigh. Peter shivers harder for a moment, and maybe that isn’t all from the cold. “Bathroom. Enclosed space would help trap our body heat in. My body heat, I guess.”
Peter hums. “You’re so hot, Mr. Stark.” A moment of silence, then: “Oh my god, you’re warm. Warm. Not that you, I mean, you look great. Uh, Mr. Stark, are you naked?”
Tony blinks. “Body heat, best way to warm you up without burning down the tower.”
Peter clears his throat. His cool fingers wrap around Tony’s arm, pulling his embrace tighter. “I—guess we should stay like this then. Until sunrise, at least.”
#113 from this prompt list. Check out my masterlist here!
This is a Technoblade x GN reader!
This will not really follow what actually happened in the dreamsmp roleplay but I hope you enjoy it all the same!
Y/N finds out about the Butcher Army and attempts to put a stop to their plan.
Y/N’s POV
L’Manberg was quiet today… Too quiet. I hadn’t seen Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, Ranboo, Ghostbur or Philza around all day. Ever since Tommy’s exile I was sure that I spoke to each of them at least once a day for 15 minutes or longer. Tommy was ripped away from me, from L’Manberg and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to the boy that had become my brother. I had no idea the debate that raged on between the boys and Dream and by the time I was clued in it was too late. He was gone.
I sighed as I strolled down Prime Path, heading toward the new L’Manberg. I kept my eyes peeled, looking for a sign of any movement. Any life. Anyone. Suddenly, a tall tower I had never seen before was in the center of the square caught my eye. “What the-” I muttered, jogging toward it. As I got closer, I began to hear voices. I caught a glimpse of Carl tied to a post and I broke in a full sprint.
Well I found the boys I had been looking for all day. Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, and Ranboo stood on the outer edges of the stage dressed in bloody aprons. Philza stood outside his front door, watching what was happening. Ghostbur stood off to the side of the stage with a blue sheep. There was one more person that was standing on the stage. Technoblade.
Technoblade and I have had an interesting relationship ever since he joined the server. I had been really good friends with his brothers and when they were banished from L’Manberg, it broke my heart. I spent a lot of time giving them supplies and intel about the things that were happening under Schlatt’s control. Wherever I would visit them, Techno would always throw flirty remarks my way, leaving me flustered. One time I decided to throw one back at his, causing him to blush like crazy. The next time I went over, Techno asked me on a date. I accepted, of course and ever since then the two of us had been a couple.
I stood by him through a lot of important events. I helped raise Carl. I helped him farm wither skulls. I had been there with him when he spawned the withers and blew up L’Manberg. He and I spent many days looking for a place to build his “retirement” home and then many days then building said house. We spent a lot of time together and I really did love him.
“What the hell is going on here?!” I demanded as I stomped on the stage. All eyes snapped to me as I stood there, fuming on the stage. “Y/N” Tubbo began nervously, “You shouldn’t be here. Quackity, I thought you took care of them!” he hissed to his partner in crime. Quackity rubbed the back of his neck, “Oops. I guess I forgot.” I crossed my arms across my chest and glowered at the four boys. “That doesn’t answer my question of what is going on here.” I hissed out. Tubbo cleared his throat and nervously looked to his feet. “An execution…” He whispered. I was silent as I soaked up Tubbo’s words. “We made a list. A list of people that threaten the peace of L’Manberg. Techno is on that list and then to make sure we have that peace, he must die.” Tubbo finished.
I stared at him with an eyebrow raised. “Really? You think that this is going to solve your problems?” I questioned, “You know he has all of his cannon lives. If he dies, when he comes back you’re going to have to pay full price for what you did to him… You really think this is a smart play.” Tubbo gave me a half shrug while the other three stared at each other. “He had to pay for what he’s done,” Fundy spoke up. I let out a laugh and shook my head, “He did exactly what he told you he was going to do. You knew how much he hates governments and yet you literally formed one in front of him… If anything it’s your own fault.” I informed them with a shrug.
I brushed past Tubbo and made my way to the cage that sat in the middle of the stage, the two right next to it. “Hey there.” I greeted my partner with a smile. Techno mirrored my smile as he gave me a small wave, “Fancy seeing you here. Whatcha doing?” I asked, swinging my bag off my shoulder, looking for my pickaxe. “Oh, you know… Being executed.” He claimed nonchalantly. I giggled at his casualness as I brought my pick out of my bag. I was about to swing my pick to break the iron lock that kept my boyfriend contained in a one by one block, but a hand landed on my shoulder stopping my motions.
“Y/N! You can’t do this! We, the Butcher Army, have made a decision! He must die!” Tubbo whined. I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand off of my shoulder, “I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it” I announced turning back to the cage that housed my boyfriend. I brought my pick up and swung at the iron lock, instantly breaking it causing the cell door to swing open. “NOOOOOO!” The four boys screeched. They rushed forward, trying with all their might to push the pink haired man back into the cage, but the two of us were too strong for him.
The two of us easily pushed the four boys off of us and to the ground. They stayed down, a bit dazed allowing us to make our escape. I grabbed my boyfriend’s hand and ran toward where I saw Carl tied up. With ease, Techno hoisted himself up onto his cherished horse as I untied the prized horse from the post. I handed Techno the reigns before jumping on the animal myself. “Stop! Prisoner!” I heard the voices shout from behind us. “Let’s go Carl!” Techno shouted, giving the animal a swift kick sparking the horse into action. Carl whinnied and began galloping at full speed down the prime path. “NOOOOOOO!” the four voices screamed, fading out of earshot as we rode off toward Techno’s retirement home.
I let out a breath of relief as Techno’s home appeared in my field of view. Carl came to a stop right outside the front door. Techno quickly hopped off of his pet and tied him to his post. Techno then reached up and helped me off of the animal. The two of us locked eyes as we stood there. I let out a giggle at what had just happened. My laughter caused Techno to laugh as well. “I cannot believe you did that” He admitted, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning his forehead on my own. I let out a content sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’d do anything for you,” I admitted. His brown eyes stared into my own lovingly. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” He mumbled, leaning down and pressing a kiss onto my lips. I let out a giggle, immediately kissing back. “Well I know one way.” I mumbled against his lips.
Techno pulled back slightly and raised his eyebrow. “And that is?” “Well considering I just betrayed the L’Manberg president, I don’t think I’ll be welcome in their land anytime soon… So you could let me crash here for a while.” Techno let out a chuckle and pecked my lips once more. “Of course,” He hummed, “You’re always welcome here.” I gave my boyfriend a soft smile at his response. “Thank you” “Anytime.”
We stood there for a few minutes before a shiver ran down my spine. “I’m cold” I claimed with a pout on my lips. Techno let out a laugh and rolled his eyes, “Of course you are. Come on, I’ll make you something hot to drink.” Techno let go of my waist and turned toward the front door. “You’re the best” I hummed, reaching forward and intertwining our fingers. Techno brought our hands up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand. “I know… You’re pretty okay too.” He teased, opening the door. I let out a gasp in mock offense, “Excuse you?!” I exclaimed as the two of us made our way to the kitchen, “I literally just saved you from the Butcher Army and this is how you repay me?” Techno led me to a seat and sat me down before turning to the stove and began making my drink, “In that case. I guess you’re pretty cool too… Ya know… For butchering their plans….”
There was a silence in the kitchen before laughter came bubbling out of my mouth. “I can’t believe you just made that pun!” I laughed, holding my stomach. Techno threw a smile over his shoulder as he worked. “I figured you would like it.” The laughter slowly died down as I took deep breaths to calm myself. Techno set my favorite mug down in front of me before sitting down beside me. His arm wrapped around my shoulder and a kiss was placed upon my temple. I smiled as I brought my own mug to my lips and took a sip. I let out a content sigh as I rested my head on my boyfriend’s shoulder. “I could get used to this,” I admitted, turning slightly to look at my love. Techno gave me a gentle smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on the top of my head before pulling me closer to him. “So could I”
There you go! I hope you enjoyed!! If so, please be sure to leave a like! Maybe even a reply or a reblog telling me what you liked about it!! Until next time!
A short drabble about sea grunks having an average adventure, written in honor of their birthday.
Even before they got attacked by the Cthulhu beast, it had been a pretty average morning on the sea for the Pines twins.
Wake up at the crack of dawn (Ford) or closer to late morning (Stan); eat breakfast; reset the spell to ward off the vengeful leprechauns who might still be after them for stealing their treasure in case they’d figured out they were chasing a decoy trail by now; do a little late morning fishing, while keeping an eye out for that golden fish Stan was sure he’d seen swimming under their boat last week, and which he was hoping laid golden fish eggs or something; finally notice what time it was (Stan) and head inside to make lunch.
Just another normal day.
Stan was examining their supplies, trying to decide if it was worth breaking out some of the canned hamburger meat and throwing together sloppy Joes instead of making them eat fish again, when he was knocked skiwampus by the boat being yanked to a halt; as he struggled to regain his balance by grabbing onto the table, a vicious, blood-curdling roar came rumbling through the air from outside.
Stan sighed, and wondered if the kraken was back. In one swift motion he grabbed the spare harpoon they had hanging over the door, and stepped out to see if Ford needed help dealing with it.
It wasn’t the kraken.
It still looked like some kinda big octopus monster, though, with a mass of writhing tentacles where its face should be, and a bulbous head in the back just like an octopus body. The rest of it, at least as far as the torso, was kinda like a human’s but a little bigger (about the size of a baby whale), with slimy-looking green-brown skin and a pair of big, wrinkled, wet wings sticking out of its back. Whatever this thing was, it had grabbed onto the back of their boat, and was looming menacingly over Ford as Stan stepped outside.
“...and you are now my prisoners!” he bellowed, as his piercing golden eyes landed on Stan. “Surrender your weapons now, puny mortals, and I might be merciful!!!!”
“Yeesh, did we trespass on his territory or something?” Stan asked, leaning on the harpoon.
Ford shrugged with one shoulder, since he was trying to write in his journal at the same time. “He didn’t really say; he just jumped onboard and started threatening me.”
“Huh.” Stan looked up at the beast. “You the lord of this part of the ocean or whatever?”
The beast blinked-which looked pretty weird, his eyelids went sideways instead of up and down like humans-before nodding vigorously. “Yes! I am the lord of this part of the ocean, and you must surrender to me now, or else suffer my wrath!!!!” He slammed a fist down against the side of the boat, making it rock up and down so hard he had to scrabble to keep his balance. Stan coughed into his fist to hold back a snicker.
Ford tilted his head. “I could have sworn this was still the primary territory of the Manatee-Merfolk Alliance. Are you sure you haven’t made some kind of mistake?”
“What part of prisoners did you not understand?!” the beast demanded, spreading out his wings and shaking them as his tentacles writhed angrily. “Give up your weapons, now-all of them!!!!”
“...You sure you want that? It’s kind of gonna take awhile-”
“NOW, or I crush your boat in my mighty fist!!!!”
Stan glanced at Ford, who rolled his eyes and nodded. With a small sigh, they began disarming themselves.
********
...A minute passed and they were still at it.
Ford’s pile of weapons was almost as tall as he was, mostly consisting of long-range weapons like guns, but with a few vials of poisons and some handcuffs thrown into the mix.
Stan’s pile was more proportionate, but the number of places that weapons were produced from (including a smoke bomb that he’d somehow managed to keep tucked under his beanie) was frighteningly impressive.
The monster watched their progress with increasingly wide eyes; finally, as Stan produced another set of brass knuckles out of a secret pocket sewn onto the inside of his coat, he spluttered, “...Where were you keeping those?”
Stan just grinned shamelessly. “Trust me, sunshine, you don’t wanna know.”
“Okay, I think that’s everything,” Ford said at last, indicating the pile of weaponry.
“Yeah, well, I’m still workin’, gimme a minute.” Stan produced a switchblade, and tossed it onto his pile. Then, in a brief sleight of hand, he snatched another one from the pile and pretended to draw it out of his coat to toss it on next. “Hey, tentacles-face-ya think you could bring us back by Wednesday? We got a Zoom appointment ta keep, and our niece and nephew hate it when we’re late.” Another sleight of hand allowed him to scoop up another weapon.
“That’s not how this-now see here!” The monster drew himself up to his full height, nearly falling backwards off the boat. “You guys-you puny mortals are my prisoners! And as such, you need to understand that this is not a joking matter! I could squash you both like sea slugs if I wished! I’m all-powerful, an eons-old abomination whose very name would send you into madness if spoken aloud! So you better start quaking in fear and begging for mercy like proper captives!!!!”
Stan looked at Ford. “Sounds like we’re his first.” He looked back at the monster. “You’re doin’ great, buddy-good job on the whole threatening schtick.” He offered a thumbs-up, while using the other hand to snag another weapon that he pretended to produce from another hiding spot.
Ford winked at him, and looked back at their ‘captor.’ “Is this some sort of coming-of-age ritual for your species?” He produced his journal again, pen poised. “Very clever move, by the way, threatening our boat to get us to disarm ourselves. In the future, though, I would suggest that you try taking one of us hostage first, in order to create maximum-”
“STOP IT!”
The monster abruptly started pounding his fists against the side of the boat, nearly tipping it over before instead pitching him all the way onto the deck. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO-I’M YOUR-IT’S NOT FAIR-!”
It took Stan a moment to realize that the angry noises leaving his mouth (?) were accompanied by the sound of frustrated sobs.
He hissed through his teeth, and shot Ford a guilty look.
“...Oh boy. Looks like we got a little one here.”
********
Stan crossed the boat and crouched down in front of the weeping monster, putting a hand on his back and rubbing the spot right between his wings.
“Deep breaths, in and out. You’re not gonna get anything done like this, so just take a bit ta calm down, okay?”
The monster hiccuped and coughed, shrinking in on himself in a way that was painfully familiar to both of them.
Ford knelt down at his other side. “Maybe if you tell us why this is so important to you, we can provide some assistance?”
The monster shook his head and buried his head in his arms. “I just wanted-hic-to show my friends I could catch the Pines twins all by myself,” he croaked.
The two old men looked at each other in a mixture of surprise and slight alarm. “...You know who we are?”
That was finally enough to get him to sit up, wiping his eyes with his tentacles. “You kidding? Every creature of the seas knows who you are! You’re the guys who beat up krakens and steal gold from leprechauns and then you and your boat vanish without a trace! You’re the coolest cryptids ever!”
It took both of them a moment to digest that. By the time they did, though, they were grinning in equal delight.
“We’re cryptids?!” Ford asked, eyes practically brimming over with overjoyed tears.
“Yeah! And people at school were sayin’ you’re just a myth, but I knew you were real cuz my uncle saw your ship up in the Arctic last winter, and I was gonna capture you and bring you to class to show everyone how wrong they were and then I’d be famous and they’d stop calling me a weird runt all the time!” After a second his wings drooped, and he stared miserably down at the deck. “...Guess it was pretty dumb of me to think I could catch you all by myself.”
Stan put a hand on his shoulder. “...Kid...as much as we wanna help, we can’t just be your prisoners. We got our own lives ta get back to.”
“Plus, neither of us is able to breathe underwater,” Ford added.
The monster sighed, and pulled a strip of kelp from around his neck, turning one of the leaves until it was facing him. He squirted a stream of black ink from one of his tentacles, and dipped the tip of another one into the ink and used it to trace something that looked like a bunch of gobbledygook to Stan onto the leaf. “Humans...don’t...breathe...underwater.”
Awww...he’s a super nerd, just like Ford and Dipper!
That gave Stan an idea.
“Hey.” He nudged the monster. “What about a picture of us instead? Along with genuine proof of a close encounter?”
The monster’s head jerked up. “A picture?! Like with one of those weird magic boxes you humans carry around sometimes?!”
“That’s the one.” Stan grinned. He looked at Ford and jerked his head towards the cabin; his brother took the hint and headed for it, returning with an antique Polaroid camera that Ford had been experimenting on, but still took good pictures.
The monster’s tentacles began writhing around his face like they’d come to life, and he let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement.
“This is the greatest day of my life!!!!”
********
It took a bit of staging and directing and trying out different angles, but eventually they produced a set of photos that appeared to be of an eldritch abomination in training being attacked by, and bravely fighting off, the ferocious monster hunter Pines twins (hopefully nobody would think to ask how and why the monster had managed to get these pictures taken).
Then, while Stan took them into the cabin and soaked them in a special substance Ford had invented that would render them waterproof, Ford sat on the prow next to the young cryptid enthusiast and offered tips on future hunting adventures, comparing notes with him on some of the creatures they’d both seen. He also (with permission) took a few samples from the monster, including a long strip of skin (“Make it look like a wound I got in the fight! Man, this is gonna be so cool, Yog-Sothoth is gonna eat his heart out! Possibly literally!”) and some of the ink from his tentacles.
When Stan came back with the photos, he also handed over one of his spare brass knuckles that had lost a corner. “Have another souvenir, kid.”
The monster’s tentacles lashed out and wrapped around their faces in what felt like a really weird version of a hug before pulling away, leaving them covered in some of the slimy stuff they were coated in.
“Thank you so much! I really really hope the leprechauns don’t catch you-if they come this way I’ll make sure to eat some of them so they won’t!” He waved at them joyfully as he dived back into the ocean and disappeared.
********
After a moment Stan wiped his face on his coat sleeve.
“...Well, that happened.”
He turned away and began gathering up his weapons.
“Such a strange mixture of childlike innocence and barbarity,” Ford mused as he pulled out a jar and gathered the slime into it for yet another sample. “His culture must be fascinating-I almost wish he would have taken us with him so I could have seen it.”
“You would’ve drowned before you could gather any data.”
“...You don’t know that.”
“He literally didn’t know that humans can’t breathe underwater, Sixer. Not gonna happen.”
He ignored Ford’s sulking and kept cleaning, while musing to himself over the possible monetary opportunities being a couple of cryptids could bring...
It isn’t on AO3 cause it wasn’t all that special so enjoy
@hiddendreamer67 thanks for the prompt
Roman wasn’t sure how well this would go over with Virgil. It was just, Virgil had been so down lately!
Patton and Logan had been distracted with Janus and Remus lately, they were coming around the commons more and it made Virgil visibly uncomfortable. Roman absolutely wasn’t enjoying his brother's company and Janus was an asshole so he refused to apologize first.
So the anxious trait had been hiding in his room when he wasn’t hiding in Romans room with him. Roman appreciated Virgil’s efforts to comfort him about the newest additions to the team, but Virgil was ignoring his own problems by focusing entirely on Roman.
Right now Virgil was hanging out in Roman’s room, hiding from Patton who had begun knocking on the Dark And Stormy’s door. They were currently watching The Little Mermaid absentmindedly while occasionally throwing one of Romans stuffed animals at the other. Roman had cried again earlier, while Virgil reminded him it was totally okay to cry, and now they were winding down.
Virgil was propped up against Roman’s side and was tapping on his thigh in the 4-7-8 pattern. Roman definitely appreciated it but he was okay now and had been for a bit, which both of them were aware of. The tapping was probably for Virgil's own benefit.
“Hey Virgil?” Roman asked, pulling Virgil more into his arms.
“Mmm?”
“I know I keep freaking out,” Virgil went to cut him off but Roman rushed out, “And that is okay and allowed. I was just, well you haven’t in a while?” he finished.
Virgil raised his eyebrow, “Do you want me to cry more Ro?”
Roman shoved him, “No, I just meant, Ugh. You are also doing poorly right now, I know so cause I’m not stupid despite what many beleive, but you aren’t letting anyone help you. And correct me if I’m wrong here Emo Nightmare, but I don’t think you’re letting yourself feel bad right now.”
“I… I’m not, I’m not avoiding my feelings Roman, I’ve tried that before remember?” Virgil added on at the end, trying for wry and funny and landing more heavily on scared and avoiding.
“Virgil I’m not saying you’re gonna, y’know, again. I’m just worried. I think it’s safe to say these additions bring up bad memories for you, and you don’t have to tell me. If you aren’t comfortable talking about it that’s fine. I just want to help.” Roman sighed and stood up.
“I know you don’t like surprises Virge, so I’ll just show you.” Roman then pulled a small, black kitten out of the imagination. “I figured this might help you if you ever felt bad but couldn't talk about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “If you don’t like it that’s fine I can put it back in the imagination, I just--”
Virgil picked up the kitten and pet her for a moment before placing her on the ground. He then tackled Roman with a hug, “Thank you Ro. You, you didn’t have to do that! I love her so much.” He cried into Roman’s shirt, “Does she have a na-name?”
“Nah stormcloud I figured you’d wanna name her.” Roman smiled, while he pet Virgil’s hair and the cat, which had taken to sitting directly next to them on the floor.
Virgil sniffed, before hugging the cat close to them, “You should help me name her, since she’s yours too.”
Roman nodded, before leaning back on the ground and pulling Virgil and the cat on top of him. “How about… Frankenstein's Monster, Franky for short? She can be your monster!” he laughed.
His aim held steady through the light cast between branches and leaves, he scoped in on an event taking place in a nearby village; the inauguration of a new chief after the passing of it's previous leader. It was a sizable affair, one he'd taken meticulous effort in planning not out of desire to please his overseers who'd assigned him this task; but because he had to. It had taken weeks to set things up in just the right way, at the perfect, narrowly available time slot where he would be able to act suspicious without getting caught and not run the risk of someone setting his designs into motion before the actual event took place. He'd had to fabricate an entirely new persona to infiltrate; but that was usually more fun than exhausting.
And truly, nothing could go wrong this time. Not with the amount of preparation and planning he'd put into it, as heartless as his assigned pieces sometimes felt. When he fired his canon, expertly aimed at not a person but one of the focal decorations hanging above in the stretching forest scape, it would set off a chain reaction that would instantaneously box the crowd in by paralyzing them in place via magically modified gas bombs, like living, conscious statues. From there, of course, he'd pick off those at the head of the ritual -- first the village shaman who conducted the ceremony, then the chieftain's wife, followed by their son, and of course the clan leader himself. He'd only been assigned to kill the man, but Khada Jhin was a benevolent demon. What sort of cruel entity would leave a widow to raise a child all on her own, or a child without a father? Surely it was a mercy to kill them all. More importantly, it met his preferred numerical quota.
Of course, he hadn't been accounting for the possibility of someone disturbing him. When he realized that someone was sharing the high branches of the willow tree he was cloaked in, he'd been mid trigger pull.
Whisper fired her first shot off into the far distance, missing his target entirely and spooking a tree full of marsh birds that synchronized in their obnoxious screams and wing flaps. It startled the nearby townsfolk, enough for panic to ensue, but Jhin hadn't the time to lament over this as he bristled and flailed about in an attempt to keep himself from falling into the swampy marsh below. It didn't work, as he had to think quick to catch his hand canon-- and thus leave himself without any hands to grab on to branches. A loud, sloppy splash broke through the algae as he plummeted into murky depths, emerging not a few moments later simply covered in the muck and looking about as livid as one would expect him to, given the circumstances. He glared his one eyed glare up at the woman, distressed wordlessness soon evolving into a shriek of,
"YOU VILE WOMAN." Up at the blonde. He was not worried about anyone else catching on; they were far, far enough away from the panicking villagers to cause any kind of stir.
-can't turn around to look at Kurt. So they star walking, and Sam gets increasingly worried that Kurt isn't there and that Sue lied to him. They reach the edge of the underworld and the doubt becomes too much for Sam, so he turns around. There's his husband, just about to step into the light. They're both frozen. Sam sees the look on Kurt's face. It isn't disappointment or anger, it's sadness. "Sam", Kurt manages to whisper. "Kurt" Sam sobs. He tries to run to Kurt, but he's been fading away-
Duuuude this makes me so sad, damn did not expect to get so emotional over an au
