Bastille Animal Imagines

Fish Food

So I have some big news.
1, my favourite two skaters are in contention for medals at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics (Boyang Jin 🇨🇳 and Javier Fernandez 🇪🇸), and 2, my very first ever Bastille fiction, "Blame: Book 1", reached 1k reads! I can't believe it's been less than a year, and how that many people have read my book!
THANK YOU SO MUCH! 💖

Kyle's POV

"So," Dan coughed as we awkwardly stood in front of the Vancouver Aquarium.

"So," I mocked his socially awkward tone, standing right beside him.

"Socially awkward now, are we?" Will smirked as he flung his arms around mine and Dan's shoulders.

"Who knows?" I shrugged and looked at Dan, who was now on his phone, scrolling through Twitter for something to retweet about.

"Oi," we should head inside," Woody pointed out. "We look fucking shady standing here," he mused.

"Then..." Will mumbled, "LAST ONE TO THE TICKET STAND HAS TO PAY FOR ALL THE TICKETS!!!" He screeched and started to have a head start for a sprint.

The rest of us gasped in shock and offence as we urged our own bodies to start running too, trying as hard as we could to catch up to Will. People all around either stared in puzzlement or laughed at us for acting so strangely. I didn't give a fuck though, since the band gave me those looks all the time in general.

     I managed to catch up to Will, but instead of taking the glory of winning, I grasped his wrist and put him into a hold. Of course, I wasn't going to let anyone win that easily.

     "TRY ME BITCHES!" I cackled as I threw Will to the pavement, then tripping Dan and Woody using my strength of quick feet and reflexes.

     I sprinted to the lineup and managed to beat the others there.

     Guess your prank backfired on you, Will...I smirked as he was the last one of the band to make it to the booth's lineup.

     "Fuck you, Kyle..." the three panted with exhaustion.

     "No problem," I grinned and turned my back to them as we waited for the next fifteen minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~

     "Fishies!" I squealed with joy as my finger pressed against the cold glass.

"Fish is the preferred plural word to use-"

"No one cares," Woody stood on his toes and flicked Will in the forehead.

"I care," he muttered as he took a step back from the fish species' habitat.

     I rolled my eyes at Will before I directed my amused gaze to the fish inside. I believe these were called angelfish, if I was correct. It wasn't like there were other fish in the world with such a small size and a massive sail fin on their triangle shaped bodies.

     "They're kinda cute," Dan chuckled.

     "They're adorable," I beamed while my hot fingers creates a small print against the glass.

     "But don't think about eating them," he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

     I flipped a finger at him. "I'm not a fucking house cat, Daniel," I pushed him.

     "In my mind, you always will be."

     "Holy moly!" Woody exclaimed quietly.

     "What?!" Dan and I snapped our heads to look at the drummer.

     "This...this is fucking brutal!" Woody pointed through the glass, at the centre of this cylindrical tank, where a quite large angelfish was swimming around.

     It took my eyes a long time to adjust to seeing inside the tank. Though I regretted trying to see what Woody saw and pointed out to Dan and I. Literally just in from of the three of us, that damned fish was swirling around a half eaten, smaller version of itself. I cringed at the bite marks in the skin of the deceased angelfish.

     "Is...is that fucking possible...like, for an innocent fish..." Dan stammered and pulled back from the glass. I've never seen a man so shaken.

     "Oh, that's normal," Will shrugged a smile.

     You're fucking weird, Will.

     "NORMAL?!" Woody shook our bassist by the shoulders. "Does that dead fish look normal to-"

     "It happens a lot if there's too much competition for food, or if there's not enough food to go around. The angelfish are literally cannibals to each other if it's a bad day."

     "C-cannibals..." I repeated the creepy word.

     That's fucking morbid if you ask me.