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Title: Let’s Get Kraken (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: T, for Tentacles!
Summary: An angel, a Hindu love god, and a little red octopus
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, spinelessness

“Goodnight, little one,” said Ganesh, blowing on a giggling Elias’s head.

“We’re fed and bathed – both of us,” laughed a slightly damp Cherubic tutor, “So we’re off to the nursery.”

“And a good night to you, Blessed Saint Kam,” Ganesh laughed, saluting their infinitely patient angelic tutor as he departed.

And with that, Ganesh kicked off his shoes and collapsed across his couch.

“Hey Gannish dood.”

“Pickles!” Ganesh remarked, not moving from where he lay. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“I ain’t intrudin’, am I?”

“No, not at all.”

“It’s jest, yoo doods are, yoo know, engaged, and wit’ da kid now.”

“The child has just been bedded down for the night, and as for what we are to be engaged in tonight, that is much up to you my friend!”

Pickles grinned and, making himself at home on the couch next to Ganesh, flourished a very suspicious looking cigarette.

“Oh, gods, yes,” Ganesh told him. “And pray do not explain about the ingredients before I partake!”

“Is Charles comin’?” asked Pickles, lighting up his monster spliff.

“Yes, he should be here momentarily.”

“So, yoo bin busy?”

“NEVER run your own religion,” Ganesh warned him. “People expect fucking MIRACLES!” He snatched at the lit joint and took a rather generous drag. “But you know what would go really well right now?” he coughed.



“So go shake some, dood!” Pickles puffed.

“I shall,” Ganesh vowed, sitting up and taking one last drag, “and then I shall NOT MOVE for the rest of the evening!”

“Hey, I t’ought yoo wanted t’ engage,” Pickles giggled.

“You will need to work around me!” Ganesh vowed, disappearing into the kitchen.

As it turned out, someone (it was inevitably Sariel) had once again denuded the stock of olives from the bar, so Ganesh had to make a slight detour to the pantry in order to restock this critical ingredient. Thus it was some moments before he returned to his living room, at which time, presumably, Pickles' joint had undergone a major diminution.

As it happened, what he saw there caused Lord Ganesh to quite nearly drop his tray. It was one of those occasions upon which it pays to have four arms out at the ready, as the cocktails were in the end lowered successfully to the coffee table with a minimum spillage.

“Hey, jaanu,” Sariel, who had just appeared as well, greeted him. “Is the kid in bed, or do we get to play a couple of rounds of bowling pin daddy?”

"Sariel," said Ganesh, pointing mutely towards the couch.

Curious at seeing his partner actually at loss for words, Sariel walked around the couch to see where Ganesh was pointing.

"Oh, yeah, he does that," Sariel told him.

"HE DOES WHAT?" Ganesh squeaked.

"That red octopus is Pickles' spirit animal," Sariel explained, helping himself to a martini and about half dozen olives. "He goes, and, you know, Walks the Earth. Or some shit."

"Er," said Ganesh, sitting gingerly on the couch beside the damp spirit animal and grabbing a martini himself. To his surprise, the cephalopod twisted one delicate tentacle around a thin cocktail glass stem and expertly brought a martini towards itself, where it unceremoniously dumped it over its body.

"He usually does that with beer," Sariel supplied. "Says it keeps him moist."

"Well. Er. I suppose. He is related to Seth," Ganesh allowed.

"Yeah, there is a family resemblance I guess!" Sariel grinned through an olive crammed mouth.

"Are you going to have some martini with those olives?" Ganesh huffed at Sariel. "You know, we had quite gone through an entire Costco jar!"

"Since when does the Lord of Destruction shop at Costco?"

"We have a child now! We must economize!" said Ganesh, plucking off a red tentacle that had writhed over to rest upon his thigh.

"But I hate Costco olives!"

"You've been quite filling your face with them since you got here!"

"But I haven't been happy about it!" Sariel protested.

"Well, at any rate, this puts paid to the evening's scheduled activities," Ganesh noted as he once again brushed off a tentacle that had been crawling up his inseam.

"It does? What exactly were you planning?" Sariel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Er," said Ganesh, now somewhat awkwardly holding two different tentacles in two hands. "Pickles, you see, wanted to engage."

"Seems he's still in the mood."



"But he's..." Ganesh appeared to be running out of hands more rapidly than Pickles was running out of protrusions.

"Now, you can't tell me, growing up in India, you've never seen anime?" Sariel asked.

"I remember I quite liked Gekiganger III."

"You mean Martian Successor Nadesico?"

"I mean WAAARRRRGH!" Ganesh exclaimed as he suddenly jumped to his feet, having evidently been goosed by a cephalopod.

"You're honestly disturbed by this? I thought you told me you were one of the original coauthors of the Kama Sutra?" Sariel inquired, inverting the olive jar to try and tip out the last few olives stuck to the bottom.

"Sariel! I have so far limited my encounters to beings which are possessed of spinal columns!" Ganesh protested, rubbing his bottom.

"Aw. Now, that's kind of prejudiced, don't you think?" Sariel asked. The octopus grabbed the olive jar away from Sariel and deftly plucked out the last few olives for him. "Hey, thanks Pickles!"

Ganesh was standing with two sets of arms crossed, studying OctoPickles. "I wouldn't even know what to...." he said, holding out a hand. "I mean, where's his...?"

"Huh. That's a good question," Sariel agreed.

"Wait! You have never done this when he is in this state either?"

"Well,” Sariel allowed. “Uh. No. 'Cause."

Ganesh frowned at Sariel.

"But I got you to consider it!" Sariel grinned.

Ganesh looked from the octopus to Sariel. "All right. OK. Where is his stash?" he said, grabbing the small bag Pickles had left on the coffee table.

"What are you doing?" Sariel asked.

"First I am going to get most blindingly high. And then I am going to engage in some research for the Kama Sutra."

If octopuses could grin and waggle their eyebrows, the little red octopus would have done so.

Lord Ganesh was very very high.

And also very, very low.

He was in fact, on the floor of his bedroom.

He had quite a lot of arms out. He wasn't even certain he had so many arms. 1-2-3-4-elph-87.... Alas, he kept losing count. And so many wiggly fingers! At least 70 millionty krillion!

He saw feet. 1-2. Yes, he could still successfully count that high.

The feet belonged to Sariel. Who was upside down. And holding an empty Costco jar.

"We're out of olives again!" the angel told him. "I'm going to get some more."

"Er. OK. Dear," said Ganesh as Sariel furled his silver wings to exit the bedroom door.

Ganesh felt a pressure around his ankle. He looked up onto the bed, where his foot was. There was a little red tentacle wrapping around it.

"Whoa! Dood!" said Pickles, his raft of dreadlocks suddenly popping over the edge of the bed. "I jest had da most fecked up dream!"

"I have wigglety fingers!" Gamesh told him, flexing the same.

"Yeah, dat yoo doo, dood."

"Hey, Pickles!" said Sariel, returning with a pitcher and glasses on a tray. "Wanna Margarita?"

"Yeh, shure dood," said Pickles as Sariel sat down on the bed and poured him a glass. "Wut happened t' him?" he asked, pointing to Ganesh.

"Oh, he took a couple puffs of your joint and then started raving about how he doesn't have a backbone."

"Oh, yeh, dat's my special blend. It c'n make yoo spineless. Eww, dood," he said, glancing at Sariel. "Yoo eat olives wit' yer strawberry Margaritas."

"Yeah, I got a taste for it when I was pregnant," Sariel explained, washing down a mouthful of olives with a giant gulp of syrupy Margarita.

"When yoo were WUT?"

"Ah. Er. Nothing."

"I have kazillion bazillion fingers!" Ganesh called.

"Shud we pull da Gannish dood back on da bed?"

"I dunno," said Sariel. "He seems happy there. Hey, wanna watch some anime?"

"Shure, dood," Pickles agreed. "Yoo got any Gekiganger III?"

Sariel clicked on the remote control.

"Geki punch!" said Ganesh.

"I'm feelin kinda dry," Pickles remarked. Sariel poured the remainder of the pitcher of strawberry margaritas over Pickles' head. "Yeh, t'anks dood!"
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:21 am
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