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thelavendersquid · 1 year

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No Words Needed

In which Caleb fails his intimidation check and the Nein use their squishy wizard as a distraction. Critickle role fic!

Fandom: Critical Role (The Mighty Nein)

Words: 2,938

AO3 link

A/N: Listen, I ship Caleb with laughing and being loved and I simply could not handle the silliness of him hanging upside down by his ankles without doing something about it. So here’s my take on an alternate version of the rope trap scene in episode 50.

“You do not want to tangle with the spirits I command!” Caleb snaps his fingers as he says this, summoning both his cat and four floating globules of light into existence in front of him. The swoosh of his hand to cast comes out a bit harder than he intends, and he can feel himself swing side to side with a bit more intensity. His coat falls down even further and he chokes on the end of his sentence, coughing as both his coat and a bit of dislodged dirt from the cavern ceiling fall right onto his face. Frumpkin lands sideways on the ground a few feet away, letting out an indignant yowl. Somewhere to his left, Caleb can hear Beauregard fail to stifle a snort.

There’s a tense pause. Then - cackles. The pack of kobolds are nudging each other and pointing at the slowly swinging Caleb, hooting and hollering with laughter. In between the kobold cackles, Caleb can hear the muffled chuckles of his friends.

This is unfortunate.

Caleb reaches up quickly, trying to push his coat back down. Unsuccessfully. It slumps right back down in his face.

As he does this, the armored kobold leader turns to look at the pack over his shoulder, a crooked but sharp grin appearing on his face as he waves his shortsword towards the slowly swinging prey right in front of him. There’s an almost-palpable electric excitement crackling in the air. Caleb can barely hear the words he speaks next, but he recognizes them - he’s too disoriented to tell if it’s through his spell or because they’re in Common, but it doesn’t really matter. They make his blood run cold either way.

“Get large food! Go!”

Immediately there's a whooping battle cry that rings throughout the cavern, and with a swoosh Caleb feels himself swing backwards wildly as several kobolds leap forward, their claws finding purchase on his body. He grimaces and brings his hands up to block, readying himself for an attack.

There’s a flurry of movement to his left as the rest of his party is spurred into action as well. Caleb hears Fjord summoning the falchion with a whoosh. Nott nocks an arrow into her crossbow swiftly and lifts it up, ready to fire. Beau is in a battle-ready position instantly, lurching forward.

The kobold leader spins to face them, shortsword out. “No touch food! We eat you next, huh?”

It’s at this point that Caleb’s focus is yanked away from whatever his friends are doing - by a sudden, startling, feeling on his side. He’s halfway through the hand motions for Fire Bolt - aiming for the rope in hopes of burning through it to free himself - but he drops his hands on instinct, trying to swat away the kobold that is currently using it's back feet to cling onto him while it digs around in his book holsters. The kobold only clings on tighter, and its tiny, sharp claws prod deeper into Caleb’s ribs. Caleb chokes on a yelp and squeezes his eyes tightly shut.

He had forgotten about this particular sensation. It's been years since he felt it, and a large part of him assumed that he would never feel it again - that he would never be allowed to feel it again. He had put it out of his mind, locked the memory away in one of the many dark corners of his mind.

But here, with the kobold nails scratching against his sides, there’s no ignoring it.

Those claws really fucking tickle.

And Caleb is possibly even more ticklish than he remembers.

He clenches his hands into fists and bites down on his tongue. He needs to keep that particular bit of information out of his friends hands.

The kobolds are really scouring his form now - digging through any and every pocket and poking and prodding around his holsters and down his legs all the way to his ankles. Their nails are sharp but they no longer hurt - they’ve moved on to a far worse feeling. One that has Caleb squirming side to side in a desperate attempt to get away and forces him to bite down hard on his lip to keep a snort at bay. Scheiße, this is not good. He needs to get out of this rope.

Suddenly Caleb feels a firmer poke in his ribs. He yelps without thinking, and looks over to see…oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

A larger kobold, wearing a mischievous grin. Jester. Right next to him, eyes bright, and one finger held out in his direction.

Caleb opens his mouth to say something - and promptly closes it again, swallowing a gasp that feels a bit too much like a giggle for his liking, as a kobold pokes a particularly sensitive spot next to his holsters. He bites his cheek. He do it. He can brace against this.

Jester giggles at him and turns to the small cluster of kobolds watching her in awe. “Little me’s! C’mere, c’mere!” She wiggles her fingers in the air - an action that has Caleb flinching even though it's not directed at him (yet, his mind helpfully supplies, and he shivers). The kobolds scuttle forward, looking curious but still hesitant. Jester repeats the action, wiggling her fingers rapidly through the air and pointing towards Caleb. Wiggling, pointing. The kobolds creep closer still. Caleb squeezes his eyes shut at the last second.

And promptly opens them again with a shriek he can't manage to stifle, as ten tiefling claws scribble over his exposed side.

Jester’s laugh completely blows her kobold cover. She turns back to the actual kobolds - who have leaped back, snickering, at this sudden noise - and gestures for them to join her. They jump forward and land right on Caleb, claws out and wiggling, mimicking Jester’s movements. Jester, still laughing, dives right back into tickling up and down Caleb's sides, around to his stomach, and up towards his ribs.

And Caleb cracks. Laughter bursts from his throat and he dissolves into cackles. “Jehehehehe-ster! Bitte, nohohoho, dohohohon’t!

Jester just giggles along. “But Cay-leb! This is so much fun!” Her claws never stop moving. And Caleb can’t stop laughing. He’s swinging side to side, desperately searching for purchase along the wall, reaching for the ground, anything to get away from all these claws.

No luck. The rope around his ankles keeps him firmly suspended, and as the dozens of claws from both kobold and tiefling scribble and wiggle and poke and prod over every inch of his body, all Caleb can successfully manage to do is laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And find himself hoping beyond hope that this will never end because it’s quite possibly the most fun he’s ever had.

A screech leaves his lips as he feels a sudden pinch to his hip - and he immediately takes that thought back as he looks over to see Beauregard grinning at him, hands poised over his hips. Nope, no, there's no way he’s making it out of this alive. He’s going to die. Of laughter or embarrassment, he's not yet sure. Possibly both.

Beau can’t hide a laugh at the look on Caleb’s face when he sees her. Then her hands are flying up and down his sides with terrifying monk speed, pinching and squeezing and seeking out every possible ticklish spot with horrifying Cobalt Soul precision. And Caleb’s vision goes white. His brain feels like fuzz and static. He’s gone, lost in a world of mirth, where there is nothing but laughter and ticklishness and more laughter. He gives up trying to bat Jester and the kobolds away and drops his arms down, covering his face.“Bitte, Jehahahahahester, bitte, plehehehehehahahahaha-ease!” He doesn't know whether he's begging her to stop or keep going.

Luckily for him, Jester does not take any time to find out. She, Beau, and the kobolds all lock onto the newly exposed spot at the same moment, and the next thing Caleb knows there are at least fifty fingers and claws in his armpits. His laughter, impossibly, kicks up another notch and his face feels like it’s going to crack in half from how wide he’s beaming. That's it, he is quite sure this is how he’s going to die.

But he can’t quite bring himself to wish it would end.

A few feet away, Fjord, Nott and Yasha have slowly lowered their weapons and are watching this show with puzzled looks. Caduceus lowers his staff, a smile on his face. “Well that's nice.” He beckons to the nearest kobold. “Hey. Do you have a bag? I can fill it with food if you do.” The kobold scuttles over, carrying a large sack, and the soft glow of Caduceus’ magic lights the interior of the chamber as he fills it with food. The kobold’s face shifts into a look of amazement as it reaches out, tasting a piece.

There’s a sudden screech - blending into the sound of Caleb’s own cackling laughter ringing in the chamber - as the kobold leader leaps forward, slapping the hand away. Caleb stops fully paying attention around then - as someone’s fingers find their way onto his neck and another set worms their way beneath his chin and he’s lost again to silly giggles - but he barely makes out a conversation happening between Fjord, Caduceus, Nott and the kobold leader. He thinks he catches the words ‘gator skins’ - but it’s hard to tell when his own skin is being merciless attacked with scratches, pokes and wiggling fingers and his brain is still laughter mush.

An eternity later (exactly thirty-eight seconds, Caleb’s mind fills in), a whistle cuts through the laughter. Fjord’s gruff voice follows. “Mighty Nein! C’mon, we’re done here. Let’s get moving.”

Jester slows her fingers to a crawl - but does not pull them away, which is almost worse - and turns to Fjord with a pout. “Aww, but Fj-ord! We're having so much fun! Aren’t we, Caleb? Aren’t we, little me’s?”

The kobolds don’t respond, just continue their wiggling and tickling over every inch of Caleb they can reach, chirping and grunting to each other. And Caleb, still lost in giggles, could never hope to respond himself.

He does, however, notice Beau pull her own hands away - thank the gods - and rest a hand on Jester’s shoulder. “C’mon, Jes. We can finish tickling Caleb senseless later. We don't need the rope, he's easy to catch.”

Jester heaves a sigh but pulls away. Beauregard reaches up with a shuriken and cuts the rope, leaving Caleb to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He rolls onto his back, still laughing, as about half the kobolds run, cackling, back to the pack, carrying coin and other various supplies they’ve stolen from him. Several others remain, claws still wiggling against Caleb as he rolls side to side on the ground with his arms wrapped around his sides in an attempt to shield whatever he can manage.

Jester shoos them off. “That's enough, that’s enough! Go on, go, go.” The kobolds scatter away from the laughing wizard quickly, before turning to watch Jester almost reverently from a short distance away.

Caleb throws his arms over his beet-red face, gasping for air. Jester bends down over him, still wearing that ear-to-ear grin. “Caleb! You’re really, super ticklish!”

Caleb says nothing, still shaking with residual giggles. Jester giggles along and takes hold of his hands, pulling them away from his face. Caleb groans and turns his face away from her, attempting to hide it in the dirt floor. Jester just giggles again and dips forward to lay on top of him, giving him a one-sided hug and a gentle kiss on his cheek, which sends his face flushing red again.“Did you have fun? Because we sure did!”

Caleb rolls over to face away from her as soon as she sits back up. His giggles are trailing off but that pesky, wide grin stays persistently on his face. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath. “‘Fun’ would not be the word I’d choose, but…scheiße, Jester, you certainly have a talent for torture.”

There's a sudden skittering sound from across the room as a few of the kobolds that had been watching their large kobold goddess suddenly rush towards her and the exhausted wizard. Caleb flinches on instinct. But the claws aren't tickling anymore. They’re copying Jester's actions - resting their hands on his and leaning in to lick his face. It doesn’t tickle - but it’s so silly, and Caleb can’t help but laugh despite himself.

Jester squeals at this sight. “Aw-eeee! Look, they love you Caleb!”

Caleb bats the kobolds away. He still has not managed to stop smiling. “Ja. Maybe. Anyway, we need to get moving before they decide to - ah, eat me.”

“Aww, no, they won’t eat you, will you?” Jester is now cooing at the kobolds that are still trying to snuggle around Caleb. She turns back to Caleb, flashing him that bright, mischievous grin. “They were definitely probably going to do that before though. I definitely kept them from eating you.”

“I might have preferred that, actually,” Caleb mutters. He’s pushing himself up from the ground. Still attempting to cover that persistent leftover smile that dances underneath his beard, as he looks up to find Beauregard staring at him.

Beau gives him a smirk. “You made a great distraction.”

Caleb shoots her a glare - aware that it's dampened by his still-present smile - and opens his mouth to snark back. Before he can say a word Fjord steps forward, frowning. “Yes, a great distraction. Other than being loud enough to summon every other monster in the area. Let’s get moving before either they show up or these guys decide to eat us after all.”

Caduceus, who Caleb notices is already walking down the tunnel ahead, chimes in over his shoulder. “Nah, I don’t think they're going to eat us anymore. We made a deal.”

“Yup. Yeah. Yup. A deal, that we did.” Fjord is still eying the kobolds warily. “Anyway, let's go.”

Jester pushes herself up, away from Caleb, and turns towards Fjord - calling over her shoulder, “Nugget, come on!” Nugget bounds over, stopping on the way to give Caleb a slurp on the face. Caleb splutters on another laugh.

Beau helps Caleb the rest of the way up off the ground, giving him a smack on the back that sends him staggering to the side as he walks away. Caleb turns to give her a look of disbelief - but he’s still smiling, scheiße - and she just flashes him a grin. He settles for a shake of his head and turns away to catch up with the others.

Jester, it seems, is now eagerly interrogating the kobold leader about the worm and the army following it, while Fjord and Yasha wait next to her, looking impatient. Nott, off to the side, catches Caleb’s eye. She’s clearly biting back a smile and she gives him a look he can’t quite decipher. Caleb averts his gaze quickly and hurries to catch up with Caduceus.

Caduceus looks over as Caleb joins him in the tunnel ahead. He gives the wizard a warm smile. “Ah. Have fun? That looked nice.”

Caleb brushes himself off, carefully avoiding eye contact with the firbolg. “Ah, um…no…but I’m happy to have provided a distraction.”

Caduceus chuckles. He catches Caleb’s eye anyway as Caleb straightens up, and his smile grows even warmer. There’s a knowing glimmer in his eyes. “Alright then.”

Jester comes bounding up then, closely followed by Fjord, Nott, Yasha, and Beau. She rushes up to Caleb, all bright, toothy grin and fingers jabbing into his side, which has Caleb jerking away, yelping. Jester giggles. “This is so great, Caleb! We can have tickle fights now!” She flashes him another bright grin. Caleb just stares at her, fighting for his life to keep his face stoic.

Jester, undeterred, turns to Caduceus instead. “Right, Cad? We can have tickle fights!” She gives his side a quick jab and is rewarded by a flinch away and a soft chuckle. Jester looks absolutely delighted at this - and Caduceus looks pleasantly surprised himself as he gives her a soft grin.

Caleb steps a few feet away from this and watches the two of them for a moment, before giving a glance behind him at the rest of his friends. They’re looking right at him. Definitely talking about him. He looks away quickly, feeling his face heat up again.

There’s a sound next at his side, and Caleb turns to find Beauregard walking quietly next to him. She gives him a nod. Without returning it, without saying a word, he reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. And with a quick snap of his fingers, poof - his vision drops into Frumpkin's.

Beau places her hand over his on her shoulder. It’s warm and gentle and affectionate in a way that Caleb is barely familiar with - and if his emotions weren't dulled by being inside his cat, he might be tempted to say something.

But he’s not there. He’s watching through Frumpkin’s eyes as the kobolds whisper amongst themselves and two start following after them. Soon enough he’ll have to say something to the others, let them know about this new development.

But walking there, hand on Beauregard’s shoulder, her hand firmly on top of his, vaguely aware that up ahead Jester and Caduceus are starting a tickle fight all of them are sure to be dragged into, Caleb can catch his breath, calm his mind, and be grateful that, in this moment, no words are needed.

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gemwing2010 · 11 months

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The Cuphead Show: Dreamstones Edition Sneak Preview 4

Kaichi, the Cup Brothers and the girls arrived in town and had entered an eyeglasses shop, standing at the counter to speak with the clerk working there. The clerk is female anthropomorphic flathead screwdriver wearing glasses, white gloves and a yellow shirt while her handle acts as a skirt.

“Let me get this straight. You mean to tell me these two boys here couldn’t get a cookie jar from a sleeping old man?” The screwdriver lady questioned with a frown while looking over Elder Kettle’s broken glasses.

Before either anyone could respond, the glasses break in half, making the girls cringe.

“Um… yes, sounds about right.” Natty confirmed awkwardly.

“Look, lady, can you fix ‘em or not?” Cuphead asked impatiently and annoyed.

“Cuphead!” Katie scolded.

“Of course. But I don’t like your tone. Hmph!” The clerk scoffed sternly.

“We’re terribly sorry about that, ma’am.” Lexie apologized. “He’s just a little anxious that we need to get ‘em fixed as soon as possible.”

“Patience is a virtue, miss. This will take time.” The clerk stated. “And next time, be sure to teach that cup in red to show some proper manners and respect.”

She turned away and hopped over a large magnifying glass to look over the glasses. Cuphead blows a raspberry at the clerk as he wiggles his finger at her until Lexie scoldingly lowers his hand down and gave him a look that screams, “Be on your best behaviour.”

Suddenly, loud and upbeat music started to fill the air, much to the group’s surprise and confusion. Meanwhile, the clerk just looked annoyed as she turned to them in accusation.

“Kindly turn that down. I hate music!” The clerk snapped.

“It wasn’t us.” Kaichi shrugged.

“We’re not playing music.” The Cup Brothers added.

“I think it’s actually coming from outside.” Katie spoke up as she motioned at the door, which suddenly opened, revealing a young girl who is about the same age as the Cups danced in.

She is an anthropomorphic light yellow chalice a golden-coloured edge and handles as well as an orange and white striped straw similar to Mugman’s. She has a small golden nose, round eyes with eyelashes and a tiny beauty mark under her right eye.

Her attire is a black shirt similar to the Cup Bros’, only hers has a white collar, a light blue skirt, white bloomers, white gloves and orange Mary Janes.

The chalice girl happily dances into the store as she moves sideways with her arms.

Chalice Girl: When you’re feeling

You gotta spread that sunshine all around

She then jumps onto a rolling ladder as she sang.

You gotta turn that frown upside down

And sing across the rainbow

Landing on the counter, she happily tap danced across it, much to the confusion of the clerk. With a big smile, the chalice girl takes the clerk’s hand and spins her around, causing the clerk to suddenly smile, seemingly having a change of heart about music.

Now, the chalice girl skids across the counter until she stops, tap dancing some more. She dances and spins around in a circle. She lays forward on the counter and uses her fingers to tap on Cuphead and Mugman’s heads like drums.

The chalice girl now slides across the counter while laying forward on it while the clerk happily wags her finger to the beat, much to the humans’ confusion.

Chalice Girl: When the world is saying no

Don’t waste your time feeling low

The chalice girl spins the glasses stand and stops it with her finger. The clerk then taps the stand with her back a pair of sunglasses on the chalice girl, who happily stands up and waves and jumps off the counter.

The chalice girl dances some more while clicking her heels. She then dances backwards with a big smile on her face, looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Chalice Girl: Click your heels

Go Go Go!

And dance across a rainbow!

She spins around and dashes off with glee, leaving behind some confetti and sparkles before the door slams shut.

Lexie, Katie, Natty, Kaichi and the Cup Brothers were left speechless and confused by what had just transpired. Meanwhile, the once stern and g formally music-hating clerk was happily waving wagging her finger while cheerily humming the chalice girl is song in the background.

“What the heck was that?” Cuphead asked.

“I have no idea…” Natty answered, lost for words.

#The Cuphead Show #Cuphead #Mugman #Ms. Chalice #OC’s #My persona #Friends’ OC’s #Cuphead Fanfiction #Sneak Preview #Renew the Cuphead Show

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

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♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

Woozi/Lee Jihoon : A Simple Walk to the Park

You didn't want to leave this day regretful.

And what better way than to spend the summer finale with your boyfriend, Jihoon?

You knew that over the summer, Jihoon had the opportunity to do many fun things with his members. He was very happy and you were glad that he got to go on so many adventures and healing trips with his best friends that had been there for him all of his life.

However, as his beloved, you only got to spend so much time with him. Even now, as you were walking toward his universe factory located in the middle of a bustling city, you wondered whether or not he'll be up for a little walk to the park.

Well, even if he didn't want to spend time outdoors, you could probably just hang out with him in his studio. Jihoon considered that place his second home and the place that he felt most comfortable in, so most of the time, you assumed that he'd be there.

Jihoon, on the other hand, was bopping his head gently to a song that he was in the process of finishing. The instrumental was created by one of the musical production groups, Prismfilter, and he thought it sounded nice, like a gleaming day under the cloudless sky, sitting under a blooming tree, on a bench, feeling the summer air, and gazing at the tiny birds that flew across.

Even with all of these idealistic scenarios sparking in his head one by one, he couldn't find the right words to describe it. He wanted to select beautiful words that could represent his heart and connect with the listeners, but the more he thought about it, the harder it became for him to find a word.

Another idea bloomed in his head and he reached for his phone. To find inspiration, sometimes he'd be thinking of someone or something. For a beautiful sounding song, he had to be looking at the most beautiful person he knew; you.

Just as he was about to pull up a picture he took of you about a month back, when you two went on a date to a puppy cafe. He smiled without realizing it as he found the picture of your holding a cute puppy while scrolling down his photo gallery.

His door swiftly opened with a small screech and Jun peeked his head inside with a light, puerile smile. Jihoon jumped, startled by Jun's sudden entrance.

“Y/N's waiting outside for you, they want to go on a walk or something,” Jun delivered, pointing his thumb backward, gesturing that you were waiting outside.

“Oh, okay, I'll be right out...” Jihoon replied, quickly turning off his phone.

When he left the studio, you were outside the building, waiting for him. You swung your leg back and forth, kicking the air, and stared up at the sky. Jihoon had checked the weather in advance and found out that it was going to be hot with a bit of breeze, so he wore a cap and casual clothes.

“You wanted to go on a walk?” He asked as he approached you, his voice gentle.

He was happy that you came to see him. On this sunny day, in front of you two was a large road of passing cars, roaring. He was dying for a quiet, peaceful time with you, the person he found the most resplendent.

“Yeah, if you don't mind,” You said, turning to face him. “I wanted to spend a part of the summer with you. You know, this year won't come around again.”

You sounded moderately nostalgic. Jihoon thought that it was a good idea and quickly complied with a slight nod of his head. He smiled. “I think that'll be fine. I wanted to see you anyway.”

You chortled, feeling your heart soften because of his honeyed words. You two began walking down the busy streets, your arm hooked in his. As you two walked, you gradually brought your hands into his, interlocking your fingers with his.

Jihoon tried to contain his gleeful smile and slowly hid away your hand into his shorts pocket. You smiled softly and turned to him as you two approached the park.

“Weren't you busy?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “You didn't call me today so I was thinking that maybe you were caught up in a song.”

Jihoon cleared his throat and glanced at you before turning forward again. “I do work a lot but that doesn't mean I don't have time for you. I like doing things simply like this but if you ever want a fancy dinner, you can call me.”

You chuckled looking down at the ground, feeling shy at his romantic reply. Even in these busy streets between skyscrapers, it felt like you two were walking alone.

With little conversation, the two of you arrived at the park, and immediately, you broke away from his hands to head over to the children's playground. The playground was empty, surprisingly, but you figured it may be because of the hot weather that people decided to stay inside instead of coming out to play and getting baked under the sky.

“Hey, Jihoonie!” You called out for him upon entering the children's zone. You jumped onto the swings and sat down with a pure smile. “Come over here!”

Jihoon was skeptical but everything about that smile could make him give in. He knew that it was foolish but he also knew that he could do anything for that smile of yours. He just loved you so much.

His face looked like he despised the thought of being on the playground with you but his legs began walking toward the playground and before he knew it, his bottom was tucked tight on the swings.

Jihoon had his arms around the chained swing hangers. You didn't swing high but instead swung side to side while gazing at Jihoon with lovey-dovey eyes.

“What...?” Jihoon finally asked, chuckling a little. The way you were looking at him was making him a bit nervous. “Why are you just looking at me like that while swinging sideways?”

“You look handsome, Jihoon,” You replied with a cute grin that didn't fail to flip Jihoon's heart upside down. “I was just thinking, when Autumn comes, would you like to try out pumpkin picking with me?”

“Sure, why not? If that's what you want.”

Jihoon's answers were simple, slipping out of his heart and mouth. He watched as you continued swinging side to side, growing far than coming closer, each time making his heart pound.

“Jihoon,” You said softly, your voice growing distant then ending up closer again.

“What?” He asked, expecting that you were going to say something mischievous, bad, or completely unexpected.

“I like you, a lot.”

Jihoon smiled because even though the two of you were already dating, those words were still enchanting to hear, even if Jihoon had trouble saying it back. “I like you too.”

He tried to reply with ease but he had to look away out of shyness. Seeing your boyfriend's cute response to your love confession, you couldn't help but smile.

“Thank you for loving someone like me,” You said. You stopped swinging back and forth and leaned toward him while still on the swing.

Jihoon humbly shook his head. “No, thank you for loving someone like me. Not everyone can deal with me. I'm a fool for music and I'm an idol.”

You smiled and replied with your whole heart, “You're a very simple guy. I love you. You make me happy.”

Jihoon smiled.

You weren't even finished talking yet but your eyes locked and before you could continue saying what was engraved on your heart and mind, Jihoon beat you to it.

With a slight twinkle in his eyes, Jihoon finished what you wanted to say in the softest tone, “Sometimes, happiness is simple.”

Jihoon knew that love was complex but with you, it seemed so easy. There was no need for anything complex or fancy. He, a simple person, was your happiness.

And you, who seemed like a dream, was his happiness.

-----------------

a/n: once again the photo has barely any relevance to the story lmao + Water sports TTT was so fun to watch, I could feel their happiness from the screen!! I loved it so much and smiled and laughed a lot because of it but I wanted to see some more Jun, feels like I didn't see him a lot.. anyway I'm excited for drunkteen again next ep :D + this imagine was high-key based on woozi's "simple" because that song is still freaking gorgeous to my ears

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sebstanseabass · 3 years

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 15

WARNING: Mature scenes ahead!!! ;)

A/N: Future u, i hope ur ok

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The moonlight glimmered among the stars in the now pitch-black skies, fighting off against the bright lights hanging from above the tent. Bucky's digression to topics regarding his real family (or lack thereof, I think) never wore off, clearly avoiding talking about, dare you say, "the real stuff." But the classic "favorites" section of a date was indeed a delight. You had already covered favorite films (his was The Truman Show, while yours was Forrest Gump; but you also talked about other films that you both shared a liking to — Pulp Fiction, Me, Myself & Irene, Dead Poets Society, The Godfather, the Harry Potter series, Inception, and of course, any films that star the legendary Tom Hanks), favorite music to listen to (you both loved vintage rock and roll), and so much more favorites and would you rather and what ifs and if you weres. But you mostly talked about films — an in-depth discourse on their themes, writing, and cinematography (things you never thought you'd be able to talk about with anyone).

"Have you ever thought about shooting films?" Bucky asked.

You were now lying down on the blanket-covered ground, bodies upside down-like: your forehead aligned with his chin, and his chin aligned with your forehead, as if characters from The Fault In Our Stars.

"I did." You replied. "But I wanted to focus more on photography."

"Why?"

You turned your head, your breath fanning the side of his face. "There's something about the stillness of moving things, of people around me, beautiful people that strikes me as fascinating."

He hummed, closing his eyes. He was saying something, about how art, in all kinds of medium, connected people from all walks of life, how the beauty of it all can be different to each, and how he wished he could make one of his own: to give life to a canvas, to freeze a moment in time, to put his thoughts in pen and paper, and to embody a character different from his. At some point, you could feel him peeling down all his layers but then he stopped talking.

You respected the silence between you and took your sweet time studying his face. The wrinkles on his forehead looked like ridges of sand, ridges people would like to walk on for days, ridges that held untold stories of — perhaps — heartache, failure, and pain. His closed eyelids looked like a sleeping moon, gleaming. Almost touching his cheeks were his long, curved eyelashes. Then, my eyes trailed down to his nose, dotted with freckles, his nostrils releasing small puffs of air; then down to his mouth, slightly agape, and then down to the stubbles on the sides of his face. There was a small scar, almost concealed by where his beard started to grow.

You turned your body sideways, tracing the scar with your finger.

Bucky's body tensed under your touch.

"What happened to this fella?" You whispered, tracing the small scar.

He soon let himself relax, opening his eyes. "Car accident." He replied. "But I don't remember much of it. I don't know where it happened, or how it happened or if I hit something or worse, someone. But Tony told me he took care of everything. I haven't been behind the wheel since then. I fear history will repeat itself."

Then, you remembered all the times you've been in a vehicle with Bucky. Not once was he driving. "How old were you?"

"Nineteen? Twenty? I really don't know." He sighed, closing his eyes once again. It was the first time Bucky told you something so real — a fear, something personal, something close to home. "Hey, y/n?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Can you kiss it and make it feel better?"

You giggled, poking the scar. "You've got to be kidding me."

He pouted, his eyes still closed. "Please?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "Fine." You planted a soft kiss on the scar, your lower lip catching the rough edges of his beard.

"I'm still not feeling better."

"Oh Bucky, you are such a child." You laughed, giving it another kiss, and then another, and then another and then another, until rough edges turned into the soft textures of his lips. With lips entangled in an unusual position, you brought myself onto your knees, and positioned yourself on top of him — knees on each side of his hips, crotch pressed against his, hands on his jaws, lips on his lips, tongue inside of his mouth.

His hands found your neck, then up your jaws, cupping your face and pulling it closer to his. He then started to rake the roots of your hair, tugging it lightly, making a moan escape your lips. You felt one corner of his mouth turn a bit upward at the sound. He tugged your hair tighter and harder until your lips left his with your head pulled backwards, leaving your bare neck exposed.

Without any hesitation, his mouth moved onto neck. Gratified by the series of moans coming out of your mouth, he sucked deeper into your skin, biting every inch of your neck, making sure to leave damn marks. On impulse, you moved your hips against his, grinding his clothed crotch. Bucky groaned against your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You could feel your own wetness in between your thighs as you moved your hips more, Bucky's bulge growing under you getting bigger and bigger. The sensation left you breathless.

And you needed more.

You broke away from his grasp, returning the favor. You kissed him on the lips and moved your way towards his earlobes in which Bucky very much liked; so much that he thrusted his hips upwards, slamming loud onto yours.

"Oh, fuck." You moaned, moving your way towards his neck.

Bucky's hands immediately flew under your shirt. His cold hands making contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

"Wait." He said, pulling away from you. "Is this okay? Are you okay with this?"

You giggled and nodded, kissing him on the mouth to give him permission.

He cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry, but we live in a litigious society so I'm gonna need a verbal reply from you, especially that you're years younger than me."

You chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Barnes. You have my full consent."

He smirked. "Keep calling me that and I'll give you my full consent."

"Shut up already, Mr. Barnes."

He lifted the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing a cotton white bra.

You bit your lip. "If you'd told me about the date, I would've worn a much better one."

"I don't mind." He breathed, sitting up. "I like white on you." He traced the lining of the bra with his finger, together with his eyes. He licked his lower lip before planting a kiss between your breasts. "So pure. Innocent."

"Innocent is not the word to describe me." You smirked. "Remember what I told you before?"

"Hmm, I seem to have forgotten." He teased. "What was it again?"

"I'm a devil on the sheets, Bucky."

"Then show it to me, doll." He purred.

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the worries and fear you talked about with Nat all washed away. And like always, she was again, right.

It was exactly like riding a bicycle.

And you were ready to be in control, in control of a man your senior, and to unleash something inside you you've never seen in quite a while.

You grabbed Bucky's face and kissed him on the mouth while pulling his shirt over his head. Every inch of his naked sculpted upper body glistened under the lights, like dewy grass under the sun.

You kissed his collarbones, shoulders, and chest. Before you could even move on to his tummy, a strong force came, flipping your body, your back hitting the blanket-covered ground.

"But not before I show it to you first." He growled, reaching something from above. He closed the front of the tent, pulling something from above. Within a second, the lights above went dim. The only light you now had was the moonlight.

You liked it this way. Darkness made you feel safe — but it was the kind of darkness with a sliver of light and Bucky was it. The inside of the tent grew hotter, making your body sweat, or perhaps it was just the sexual heat between you and Bucky as Bucky removed your pants, as well as his, leaving you in just your undergarments.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing up against him, making him feel that you were already dripping for him, that you wanted him.

He moaned inside your mouth as you grinded against each other. His teeth pulled your bra down. With your bare chest exposed, you usually had the instinct to cover them up because they were small for people's taste but you didn't do that with Bucky. He admired them with his eyes, and admired them more with his lips wrapped around your nipples, pulling each of them softly. He then left fluttered kisses on your breasts before moving down to your belly, kissing every curve, every wave fold there ever was, and every stretch mark he came across upon.

His mouth stopped right on the folds of your lower belly, his fingers making their way on your wet cotton panties. His lips went back to yours while his fingers were circling all around you, clothed, making you wetter each second. Then, he slipped your panties aside, taking no time at all in inserting a finger inside.

A moan escaped your lips, opening your mouth more, giving access to Bucky's tongue. With another finger slipping inside, you bit Bucky's lower lip, pulled it away from him. He watched you gasp for air, listened to each moan, and felt you deep inside as he continued to thrust his fingers in you.

"You're quite tight, doll." He said. "I'm going for another to ease you up, okay?"

You nodded then whimpered as soon as a third finger made its way inside. Because you were, in his own words, quite tight, Bucky had a bit of a difficult time moving inside. He pulled away after a few moments, giving you time to catch your breath. He folded your knees, and held your legs in place using his veiny hands. He left a trail of soft kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing on your skin every once in a while. You watched him inched forward, nearing your core. You watched him take delight in each mark he imprinted.

He hooked his thumbs on your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. On his knees, he ravished your body with his eyes, then your face. He leaned down, kissing you

"Beautiful." He mumbled in the kiss.

He soon devoured your pussy, his tongue moving up and down your folds, his upper lip nibbling your clit. You closed your yes, threw your head back and raked his hair with your fingers, guiding his mouth deeper. With his mouth still exploring every bit of you, he inserted two fingers inside. You whimpered at the sensation of both his tongue flicking your clit, and his fingers fucking you.

You moaned louder, arching your back, rolling your eyes at the back of your head. You badly wanted to see him, to watch him greedily eat you but his mouth and fingers felt so good that you couldn't even keep your eyes open. The more you tried to, the faster his mouth and fingers moved. It made your legs tremble under his touch, your thighs pressing closer and closer to his ears, which he didn't like as he kept spreading your legs wider with his other hand.

"Bu-Bucky, please." You gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

"No. Not yet."

With that, he released his mouth and fingers, leaving you suspended in ecstasy. You opened your eyes, seeing Bucky on top of you, his face studying you. Then, he brought his fingers — the same ones that were just inside you — to his mouth, licking them. Now, you really did wish you could've kept your eyes open the whole time.

"You taste good, doll." He said, giving you his fingers.

You opened your mouth and reached for his fingers, sliding up and down, the taste of you sitting on your tongue. You could feel Bucky weaken above you as you continued to suck his fingers. Your right hand moved to his boxers, stroking his clothed hard-on. His eyelids quivered for a moment, losing touch of his dominance. You kissed his fingers one last time and flipped him over, not wasting any damn time taking his boxers off.

He sprung up in front of you. He was big (the biggest you've encountered), and was throbbing under your touch. He was hot, and a little bit wet. You looked at him while you pumped him slowly, then kissed him, returning the pleasure. A breath escaped his mouth as your pace went faster, and faster. His body became weaker under you, his lips agape, surrendering to submission, to your dominance.

Bucky felt so fragile underneath you, not being able to regain the control he once had. He wanted this. He wanted you to show him how much of a devil you were.

You pulled away from his mouth and moved lower on his body, his large, throbbing dick between your eyes. You kissed the top, making his legs quiver. You soon took him in — all of him, which made Bucky grab your head, pull your hair, and guide you all the way. You looked at him as you worked him all the way up, then down, then up and down: his mouth was kept open, a series of moans coming out, and at the same time, gasping for air; instead of eyes closed, his eyes were wide open, looking at the unlit lights above him.

Usually, giving head to people wasn't at all satisfying to you. What would it give you, anyway? It was either forced, or just because they told you to suck them. But with Bucky, you didn't even hesitate on doing so. It wasn't an itch you were trying to scratch away. It was on impulse, an instinct, a desire you wanted. And seeing Bucky in this state gave you so much pleasure.

So much.

Bucky let out the loudest moan, sitting up straight, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath.

"I need you." He rasped. "Now."

You nodded, satisfied with what you received on his end. You straddled him, grinded on his bare dick, and glazed it with your wetness. He groaned, guiding your hips with his one hand, the other on the ground, keeping himself straight up.

"Don't worry. I'm on the pill." you whispered.

"I thought it's been over a year since you — "

"It's for acne, dumbass." You chuckled. "You can cum inside me if you want. You have my full consent."

"Good."

You held onto his broad shoulders as you lowered myself onto him and within a second, you felt his tip inside.

You bit your lip as you inched yourself lower. With his whole inside you, you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, and let out a small whimper.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and placed a kiss on his neck, reassuring him.

You moved your body up and down, biting your lip to keep small cries from coming out, but soon enough, you were taking in pleasure within pain until all there was was pleasure.

Sweet, sweet pleasure.

You bounced on top of him faster, — god, he felt so big and so good in you — skin slapping on skin, echoing against the thin sheets, with his lips on yours, then on your neck, then on your breasts; his hands on your jaw, on your neck, your breasts (sometimes, together with his lips), on the small of your back, on your hips, then on your ass.

"Oh god, you feel so fucking good." Bucky said, kissing your skin as you kept on bouncing on top of him. "But it's my turn, babydoll."

You moaned at the nickname, making your body frail to move and then the next thing you knew, you were flipped over, with Bucky on his knees, thrusting faster, then deeper as he inched forward, your chests pressed together. Your fingers clawed on his back, his hot breath on your neck, your breath on his ear where he could hear you moaning his name.

"That's right." He whispered, kissing your neck. "Say my name."

You wrapped your legs around his waist (a kind of intimacy you had never done before), and with it, pulled him closer, deeper, giving you an astounding pleasure, making your whole body tremble under him, getting you higher and higher on staggering ecstasy, and sending you over your edge.

You cried out his name one last time, feeling your white juices come on his dick, mixed with his inside you.

"My god," he whispered, "I think I could never get enough of you."

"You just read my mind, Mr. Barnes."

"Hey, I feel a whole lot better now." He winked.

You chuckled.

You caught each others' breaths, kissing one last time before he removed himself from you, and laid down beside you where he wrapped his arms and legs around you, your head on his chest. You weren't the one to cuddle but at that moment, your body, frail and vulnerable, gave in. You didn't want to fight it, anyway. You were both surrounded with each others' pool of sweat but it didn't matter.

You were bathing in bliss.

In this bliss he had given you.

"You're not gonna kick me out the next morning, are you?" You asked, half-joking, scared that you'd be in the same position as that of the woman from before.

"No, doll." He replied, "you have my word," then kissed your forehead.

Bucky pulled you closer, his chin on top of your head. You listened to his heartbeat slow down every five seconds, giving you a rhythm you soon fell asleep to.

26 notes · View notes

imnotusedtobeingloved · 3 years

Text

YOU NEED TO BURN ME

(PLEASE DON’T REPOST/REBLOG)

Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.

Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Katara, Aang, Toph, Sokka.

Requested: I guess?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: Part four of “destiny is a funny thing”.

previous part

A/N: Welcome to the next part!

Have fun reading!

“Prince Zuko,” Your tone was sharper than a knife. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,”

The words hung in the air, like smoke filling your lungs. You were close enough to smell his jamine scent and see the sweat above his brow. His golden orbs widened. As if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. They held sorrow within and yet they dared to gift you with so much warmth. So different from his sisters eyes. “(Y/N)...,” You clenched your fists by your sides, making sparks fly. “Come on, fire prince. Teach me!”

Zuko raised his hands in surrender, stepping backwards. You’d transformed the teen into a scared little boy. “I don’t want to fight you,” he breathed. This time he was the one pleading for mercy. While his face showed a painful mixture of heartbreak and agony, yours remained furious.

“Funny,” you spat, disgust lacing your voice. Your heart suffered, seeing him like that, but your anger had it’s grip so tight around your throat that you were desperate to breathe again. And for that, only one solution remained. Zuko had to go. You were sick of him playing games with your feelings. “The last time i said that, you answered with something like this!” You delivered a kick through the air, flames following the motion. Zuko gasped, rolling sideways to escape your fire. “(Y/N)! Wait!” You could hear Aang panicking behind you, followed by the voices of Katara, Sokka and Toph, who all tried to talk you out of the fight.

“You can’t run from me forever, Zuko!” you yelled, when he took off. Following close behind, your rage didn’t fail you. Lashes of fire soon hidered his escape. “(Y/N), Stop it!” he screamed. His voice broke before he could say anything else. He stumbled and fell, barely missing one of your shots and covering his face. “You need to burn me to stop, remember?” He leaned on his hands, slowy getting back up. Your words seemed to hit him harder than your flames. “Do it!” You demanded, leaning forward and raising your hands.

Finally he responded, running up to you with a growl.

You prepared to dodge his onslaught, only to gasp, when you were caged by his arms instead. He held you in a tight grip. Tighter than your anger ever could. Your hands were trapped between you, body pressed against his. “I won’t fight you, (Y/N),” He whispered, lips residing right next to your ear. “Burn me if you must, but please don’t force me to hurt you again. Our first fight was painful enough,” Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stay unresponsive for long. Getting away seemed hopeless as you tugged and pulled on on him, trying to be freed.

“Let me go!” You hissed, banging your fists against his chest as much as you could. But his grip around you wouldn’t budge. Your whole being was enveloped by him. And your bottled up frustrations gushed out. All at once. “Let me go...” You hated how your voice shook and your eyes watered, as you slumped in his grip. “No,” he murmured, holding onto you. “I made that mistake one time and i’m not doing it again. I’m sorry that i hurt you. I was blind to choose the Fire Nation over my home. I still love you (Y/N). I’ve never stopped,”

Faint footsteps appeared behind you. Zuko pulled away when they reached the platform, taking a step back. You quickly wiped the few tears that had escaped from your cheeks. The fight didn’t end like you thought it would. It didn’t even end like an Agni Kai was supposed to end. You hadn’t thought that you would win. Though you had thought that you would beat him. And that it would give you some kind of clarity. Or satisfaction. But it didn’t. Not at all. It left you lonely. Empty. When Zuko hugged you, he seemed to have taken your anger with him. Only disappointment remained.

“(Y/N),” Katara came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You made an effort to put a smile on your face. You almost regretted that the anger had disappeared. It felt good to feel something again. Now there was nothing but vacancy. “I’m fine,” You turned your head around to her, grinning slightly. “Thanks, Katara,” Then you turned and went. Away from their worried looks and from the lover you once knew. In mere seconds you’d disappeared from their view, unable to hear Toph’s response to your answer. “She’s lying...,”

You spend the rest of the day alone, only returning to camp the next morning. The fact that Zuko was now part of the Team was a lot to take it. You mulled over it, time and time again. Innitially you’d wanted to leave. Turn your back on them all and be on your merry way. But the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. Even the mere thought of leaving felt wrong. So you decided to stick with them. Leaving your friends wasn’t the right choice. And if that meant tolerating Zuko, then so be it. At least this way you could protect them, if he stabbed them in the back again.

Upon your return you spottet Zuko and Aang standing on the balcony of and upside down pagonda in the temple. The air bender was the first to recognize you, waving a hand. “Hey, (Y/N)!” He yelled, as you smirked giving him a wave of your own. “Do you want to watch us train? Maybe you can help!” You raised your brows, with a sideways glance at Zuko. “Uhm...,” As it turned out, you didn’t have much of a choice. The boy dragged you with him until you were seated on a large stone nearby. It provided the perfect view on the scene. You sighed, shifting in your seat, as Aang walked back to stand in front of his instructor.

“I know you’re nervous, but remember, firebending itself is not something to fear,” Zuko encouraged. Aang sighed heavily. “Okay. Not something to fear,” The prince nodded.

“But if you don’t respect it,” He raised his voice, leaning close to his students face. “It’ll chew you up and spit you out like an angry komodo rhino!” Aang yelped, but Zuko didn’t let him stray from his path. You raised a brow at his teaching methods, but decided to remain silent for now.

“Now show me what you’ve got. Any amount of fire you can make,” The Avatar nodded, inhaling nervously, before making a forward motion with his hand. A pitiful cloud of smoke appeared and died before any kind of spark could live. He looked back at his teacher with a sheepish look in his eyes. “Maybe I need a little more instruction. Perhaps a demonstration?”

Zuko agreed, spreading his arms. “Good idea. You might wanna take a couple steps back,” The boy did as he was told, giving the prince more room to occupy. He watched as the fire bender took a deep breath, preparing to guide the fire. With a strong punch through the air, he produced a tiny flame. Aang clapped his hands, applauding the display. But Zuko was appaled. “What was that? That was the worst firebending I’ve ever seen!”

“Usually it’s called a ‘failure’,” you said, crossing your arms. The Avatar, on the other hand, expressed his appreciation. “I thought it was ... nice,” He smiled slightly and shrugged. Zuko grunted, trying to firebend again, and again, and again. But each time the outcome seemed to get worse. He looked at his palms with furrowed brows. “Why is this happening?” Aang rubbed his head, trying to think of a solution. “Maybe it’s the altitude,”

His mentor looked back at him. “Yeah, could be,” Overcoming his innitial frustration, he kept trying, but the fire wouldn’t budge. Nothing he did seemed to work. “What is wrong with you?” You asked, getting agitated. “I don’t know!” He gave back with just as much force. Meanwhile his student had taken a seat on a broken pillar next to you and yawned, before he lied down. “Just breathe, and ...,” Zuko said to himself, delivering another blast with no improvement. “That one kind of felt hot,” Aang said, getting up. But it only managed to enrage his master even more. “Don’t patronize me! You know what it’s supposed to look like!”

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman,” Zuko raised his hands, groaning as Aang cringed. “And stop calling me that!” You raised a hand to your mouth to stiffle a giggle. That nickname would be remembered until the end of time. “(Y/N), maybe you can show him,” Blankly he stared at you, waiting for an answer. You briefly ginned at Aang. “Told you i was the better choice,” He laughed as you got up and stepped forward. Air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath, focusing all your attention on your bending. On the warmth that flowed within your veins. You delivered a kick into the air, expecting flames to shoot with the motion, but all that got out was a puff of smoke. You gasped, swirling around to the guys. “What...?” You tried to conjure a flame in your palm. A little one. Nothing too hard. But no matter how long you stared at your hand, nothing came from it. “What’s happening to me?” Zuko apparently recognized the panic in your voice and furrowed his brows. “Hey, i’m sure it’s going to be okay,” He raised a hand as if he wanted to place it on your shoulder to comfort you, only to draw back in the last second. “We just have to-”

“Hey, jerks! Mind if I watch you three jerks do your jerkbending?” Sokka interrupted, suddenly invading the field, walking towards the instructors and their pupil, while munching on an apple. The prince lashed his arm to the side, pointing to the other end of the platform. “Get out of here!” He dropped the half-eaten apple and surrendered. “Okay, take it easy. I was just kiddin’ around,” He got up and turned, adjusting his shirt in the process.

“Jerkbending, still got it,” He laughed, while Zuko dropped his head and groaned.

Losing your bending was scary. It was as if you’d lost a part of your identity. A part that made you who you were. No matter how often you’d tried to bend over the course of the day, it wouldn’t come back. Eventually, when the evening came, you busied yourself with feeding Appa, who happily chewed on his hay. Zuko leaded on a column not too far from you, arms crossed and lost in his thoughts. You wondered what he was thinking about. He didn’t seem as scared as you.

A few minutes passed, before he left.

“Listen everybody, I’ve got some pretty bad news,” Zuko stated, walking up to the campfire. “I’ve lost my stuff,” Toph raised both hands to her head, underlining her innocence. “Don’t look at me,” She stated, folding her arms. “I didn’t touch your stuff,” He lowered his gaze. “I’m talking about my firebending. It’s gone,”

The group stared at him silently, until Katara burst out laughing, claiming all attention for herself. You flinched upon the sound. At this point you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It was only a tiny part of you that felt sorry, and you didn’t like it one bit. But truly? You and him were stuck in the exact same situation. The prince punished her with an annoyed expression, but it didn’t seem to faze her. ”I’m sorry. I’m just laughing at the irony. You know, how it would’ve been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago.” Katara said. Zuko hesitated, trying to explain the situation. “Well, it’s not lost. It’s just ... weaker for some reason,” She held up her bowl of soup, glaring at him over the brim. “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,”

Toph smiled scarcastically. “Ouch,”

“I bet it’s because I changed sides.” Zuko said.

“That’s ridiculous.” Katara scowled at him, dismissing the idea.

Opposed to her, Aang gave it a thought. “I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe your firebending comes from rage and you just don’t have enough anger to fuel it the way you used to,” Apparently, that was Sokka’s keyword. He leaned towards Zuko, pointing a finger. “Sooo, all we need to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough,” He poked the fire bender with the hilt of his sword, hitting the head and waist several times.

"Okay, cut it out!” The prince growled, as Sokka grew more amused by the second. The boy stopped, as his sword slipped from his hands. “Look, even if you’re right, I don’t want to rely on hate and anger anymore. There has to be another way,” Zuko said, rubbing his nose. You walked through the pillars, coming to stand next to him. “I’ve lost my bending too,” You confessed, feeling lightheaded. Now the water benders features softened. The groups pitiful looks made you feel sick to your stomach. Like a confirmation that something was genuinely wrong with you. Sokka sat back down next to the eath bender, who spoke up next. “You’re gonna need to learn to draw your firebending from a different source. I recommend the original source,” She explained, stuffing food in her mouth. “How’re they supposed to do that‌? By jumping into a volcano‌?” Sokka asked, eyeing her excitedly.

“No. Zuko and (Y/N) need to go back to whatever the original source of firebending is,” Everybody listened closely, as she explained the impact of original sources on their benders. She, herself, had learned it from the badgermoles. The innitial earth benders. “They were blind, just like me. So we understood each other. I was able to learn earthbending, not just as a martial art, but as an extension of my senses. For them, the original earthbenders, it wasn’t just about fighting. It was their way of interacting with the world,” She grinned, focusing back on her meal.

“That’s amazing, Toph! I learned from the monks, but the original airbenders were the sky bison,” Aang leaned to the right, to get a glimpse at Appa eating his hay in the distance. “Maybe you can give me a lesson sometime, buddy,” He growled from the shed. “Well, this doesn’t help us. The original firebenders were the dragons, and they’re extinct,” Zuko sighed, looking at the group. “What do you mean‌? Roku had a dragon, and there were plenty of dragons when I was a kid,” You smiled at Aangs words. He was, still, very much a kid. Even if he was 112 years old. “Well, they aren’t around anymore, okay?” His counterpart yelled, making the Avatar recoil. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” He moved his arms in an appeasing manner.

“Maybe there’s another way. The first people to learn from the dragons were the ancient Sun Warriors,” You reminisced, walking towards a little fountain. Zuko’s stance lost some of it’s tension. Aang was quick to follow, coming up beside you. “Sun Warriors? Well, I know they weren’t around when I was a kid,” His teacher soon stood next to you, turning his head towards him. “No, they died off thousands of years ago. But their civilization wasn’t too far from where we are now. Maybe we can learn something by poking around their ruins,” Aang nodded. “It could be worth a try. It’s like the monks used to tell me. Sometimes, the shadows of the past can be felt by the present,”

“So, what?” Sokka spoke up behind you. You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe you’ll pick up some super old Sun Warrior energy just by standing where they stood a thousand years ago?” Zuko nodded shortly.

“More or less. Either we find a new way to firebend, or the Avatar has to find some new teachers,”

tags: @zvkonation @viva-la-millennia @randomness501 @drheinzd @kaylove12 @duh-dobrik @yeetscreetiwannaeat @ ashnkamfeun @hailkyoshi @shortmexicangirl @animexholic @sorrythatspussynal

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #avatar the last airbender #zuko x y/n

128 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Note

Ooh!!! "No more today, you’re at your limit.” ? ❣❣

Hi anon!! Thank you so much for sending this prompt in, I had so much fun writing it (also thank you for waiting, I’ve been a little slow with writing lately)

do we want 3.2k of obikin in the bath? idk but i wrote it! (also do the apartments in the jedi temple even have baths? idk. in this story they do LMAO)

as always, i write at 3 am, so if there are any mistakes, please.. just dont look at them

enjoy!! 💖

____

Obi-wan throws a side kick that lands square in Anakin’s stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. He rolls over a shoulder, ready for the next attack. He blocks a fist to the face, and counters with a punch to Obi-wan’s stomach, which is easily batted to the side.

They’ve been going at it for hours, lightsabers tossed to the side in favor of hand-to-hand combat. Their robes lay messily off to the side of the training room, discarded hours ago as the room sweltered in the summer heat, the pair left only in their pants rolled up at the ankles. Anakin can see Obi-wan faltering, making easy mistakes that cost him light bruises; he must be incredibly tired, just having returned lightly injured from a mission to the Outer Rim. Anakin would so much rather see Obi-wan resting and curled up over a cup of tea, or taking a nap on Anakin’s chest so he can pet his hair down and hold him. But Obi-wan had wanted to spar, and Anakin would never say no to that.

Anakin sees the opportunity and tackles Obi-wan to the ground, straddling his bare stomach and pinning his arms above his head. Obi-wan bucks his hips to roll Anakin over, but Anakin had been prepared for that, digging his knees into the mat to keep grounded. Both of their chests are heaving, and a droplet of sweat drips off of Anakin’s chin and onto Obi-wan’s neck.

“I think we should call it quits for today, old man.” Anakin releases his grip on Obi-wan’s wrists and perches back on his heels, looking down at him.

Obi-wan smirks. “And stop while you’re ahead? No, let’s go again.” He makes to get up, pushing his elbows into the mat, but Anakin stops him with a hand to his chest.

“I’m serious. No more today, you’re at your limit. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Anakin’s tone is serious as he can be, his eyebrows raised, features stern.

Obi-wan falls back to the ground, closing his eyes as he catches his breath. “As far as I was aware, it’s you hurting me, but point taken, love. You win.”

Anakin leans down and pecks a kiss to his cheek, tasting salt, and stretches his lips in a wide smile. “I’ll grab us dinner from Dex’s and I’ll meet you back in our quarters, okay?” He shifts his weight to the side so he can slide off of Obi-wan, wincing at the ache in his already sore muscles. “And go shower? You need one.”

Obi-wan shoots him a wry look. “What, you don’t like the smell of sweat? I can’t, anyhow, I have to go report to the council first.”

“Do you want your usual?” Anakin ignores his sarcasm and hops to his feet, making his way towards their forgotten robes, wishing he had remembered to bring a towel with him.

“Of course, darling.” Obi-wan answers from the floor, still lying on his back with his arms stretched out above his head.

Anakin dons his robes loosely, grabbing his ‘saber from the floor, and takes in the sight: Obi-wan is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, making him glow, and his hair is pushed back, giving him an oddly attractive tousled look. Anakin’s dick twitches in his pants, wanting to do nothing more than take him apart right then and there. But the desire to get some food in Obi-wan and see him rest and relax overwhelms the sexual urge. There will be time for that later on, no doubt.

He makes his way back to Obi-wan in easy, long strides and squats down, kissing him sideways, holding his sweaty head in between his palms. “I’m serious, you stink. The council can wait. Go shower.”

Obi-wan snorts. “No, they really can’t. Tell Dex I said hello.”

____

Anakin shuffles through Padme’s favorite body shop, where she used to drag him when they had briefly dated years prior. He never would’ve admitted it to her, but he relished the fancy baths she had created for them, and had returned to the shop alone innumerable times since they politely ended things. His body always thanked him after a hot soak.

With how tired Obi-wan seemed when he had come back from his mission and padded into their quarters earlier, and how sore he must be after today’s intense practice, Anakin wants to do something special for him. Besides, they’ve barely been able to spend time together because of the war, and Anakin misses it just being the two of them. He hopes the bath won’t be too much for Obi-wan, but he knows the man has a soft spot for fancy things under that rigid exterior.

The shop is crammed and dense, with low ceilings littered with dried flowers hanging upside down, casting a faint rose hue over the entire place. Soaps in muted colors, wrapped in bright shades of paper line the walls, leading down to the wooden tables that hold syrupy oils and linen bags of flowers and herbs. Coarse soaps and lotions in clear tubs sit in wire baskets underneath the tables. The whole room smells like a meadow in bloom, and Anakin eyes the candles burning in the corners of the room in consideration.

Thankfully, he’s the only one in the shop currently, so he can take his time picking the right products. He pops the cork out of a bottle of bath oil and takes a whiff: light, and flowery, with a faint hint of jasmine. Throwing it in his cart, he adds some cream soap, and, hesitating a little, a bag of assorted flower petals to hover on the surface of the water. He already has floating candle lights for the bath at home.

“Are you all set?” Sasha, the elegant female Twi’lek that owns the shop, leans against the register, eyeing him fondly. She used to tease him all the time about coming here alone, but they’ve moved past that, into a tentative friendship.

“Yeah.” He slides his basket onto the counter between them.

She eyes his items, cocking an eyebrow. “Is this for someone special?”

He can feel the blood rushing into his cheeks and ears, but doesn’t want to admit it one way or the other. “Maybe.”

She barks out a laugh at his bashfulness. “Lucky person, whoever it is.”

“Uh.” He doesn’t really know how to answer that. “Thanks?”

Her smile is playful, like he’s a child that just said something particularly cute. With the efficiency of someone who’s been doing it for years, she rings out the total and wraps all the items up in a paper satchel, sliding it back across the counter at him.

“That’s going to be 83 credits.”

He really hopes the council doesn’t look into his expenses, he wouldn’t know what to tell them.

____

The door to their quarters swings open cautiously and Anakin peeps inside, worried that he took too long. After popping by the body shop, he swung by Dex’s as promised, and Dex had wanted to catch up, and rightfully so; it had been too long. Anakin had shifted from foot to foot the entire time though, anxious about getting home to draw the bath before Obi-wan returned from meeting with the council. But Dex is a viable source of information, a fantastic cook, and most importantly, a long time and loyal friend, so Anakin had plastered a good natured grin on his face and quieted the nag of unease in his stomach.

The living room and kitchen is quiet, and Anakin doesn’t hear any noise coming from either the ‘fresher or their bedrooms. Anakin is in the clear.

He drops the food off unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter, throwing his outer robes over a chair on his way to the ‘fresher, bag of goods in hand. Flipping on the light, he starts up the hot water and pulls out the candle lights that sit underneath the sink. As the scalding water rises to the top, he pours in the oil and soap, and sprinkles the flower petals across the water, deliberately placing the candle lights in last so he could perfect their destination. They glow to life as soon as they make contact with the water, and Anakin smiles at the sight.

Stretching back up to stand, he turns the light off and shifts the door shut, letting the dim incandescence float through the room, a heavy orange that immediately adds intimacy to the space.

He has to admit, he’s outdone himself.

Then: a creak of a door hinge, the shuffling of tired steps, and crinkling of the take-out bag as Obi-wan no doubts sneaks a fry in before Anakin catches him.

Anakin bounds back to the kitchen, like a child bursting at the seams.

“I have a surprise, before we eat,” he says to Obi-wan’s back. (He is sneaking a fry.)

“That’s never good.” Obi-wan replies, turning around to lean back against the counter, chewing thoughtfully.

“All my surprises are good surprises.”

“Oh, like the time you superglued my datapad to the ceiling so I would pay more attention to you? You could have just asked, dear one.”

Anakin huffs, and covers the distance between them in two short strides, nudging Obi-wan towards the ‘fresher, covering both of Obi-wan’s eyes with his hands.

“Just,” Anakin murmurs, “trust me on this one.”

They lumber towards the ‘fresher, Anakin pushing a blinded Obi-wan forwards with each step. When they make their way to the entrance, Anakin stops them, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Smells good, at the very least.” Obi-wan hums, in no hurry to have his sight back.

Anakin, however, cannot wait and eagerly pulls his hands back, watching Obi-wan’s face for a reaction.

The smile begins in Obi-wan’s eyes as they crinkle, and then it moves down to his cheeks and into his mouth, which is pulled back in a twisted, tender way. Joy sings through every feature, and Anakin is elated.

Obi-wan turns his head to look at him, his gaze tender. “Is this for me?”

Anakin bites the inside of his cheek. “For us, to share, if you want. Unless you want to be alone, I’m more than happy to go lay down, but I thought-”

“For us, then.” Obi-wan leans in and kisses him on the jaw, already undressing. For the second time that day, Anakin looks down at a small heap of clothing. He closes the ‘fresher door behind them.

As soon as he slides his legs into the water, Obi-wan moans, and Anakin, no matter how many times he’s heard it, blushes, his breath quickening. Obi-wan is somehow both the most proper, and most obscene person Anakin has ever had the good graces of knowing.

The petals dance away from Obi-wan, ripples in the water sending them cascading in circles. “Come on, then,” he says to Anakin, who is still staring down at him with a dopey smile on his face.

Anakin makes quick work of his clothing, standing naked next to the bath. He motions for Obi-wan to lean forward so he can nestle in behind him.

The water is still piping hot, almost uncomfortably so, but Anakin makes a small ahh noise at the feeling of it on his sore muscles. He snakes his legs on each side of Obi-wan, pulling him back so that Obi-wan’s back lays flush against his chest, having to shoo a candle light out of the way. It bumbles along their sides, and out towards their entangled legs, illuminating the peachy bubbles and sunset tinged petals that bob in their wake. Obi-wan tilts his head back, resting it on Anakin’s shoulder, and sighs in contentment.

He drops a kiss on Obi-wan’s temple, breathing him in, his arms finding their home around Obi-wan’s waist. The skin on Obi-wan chest, arms, and face glimmer in the candlelight, flickering orange, more radiant than any Tatooine sunset, and Anakin wants to fall face first into the radiant gleam of his heart, wants to crawl into Obi-wan’s chest and bask in the warmth of his love, his light.

“This is lovely,” Obi-wan whispers, fluttering his eyes closed. “Thank you.”

Anakin’s hold around his middle tightens a bit in response, trailing a hand up and down Obi-wan’s stomach in repetition, a mindless gesture. “You seem tired lately.”

Obi-wan turns his head toward Anakin’s, resting his forehead in the crook of Anakin’s neck. He doesn’t get a response for a few heartbeats, and Anakin wonders if Obi-wan heard him. And then:

“Well, we are at war.” Obi-wan’s tone is flat, nondescript. Anakin knows Obi-wan is mincing his words for his sake, and as a bad habit of holding tight to all of his problems, like sharing them would break him. Anakin wants to share the load with him, help carrying the burden.

“Are you sure that’s all?” He mumbles into Obi-wan’s humid forehead, sweat beginning to glisten at his hairline from the searing water.

Obi-wan lets out the faintest of sighs through his nose, carefully considering his response. “I wish I…,” he grabs Anakin’s hands in the water, laying them on top and threading his fingers into Anakin’s, “I wish I could help more. Do more. None of it ever feels enough.”

Anakin gazes over their tangled legs, barely visible underneath the bubbles drifting over the surface, and aches all over at the thought of Obi-wan feeling inadequate. He wishes Obi-wan could see himself as Anakin sees him: brave, selfless, the entire backbone of the war, and a brilliant General and inspiring leader. Anakin has, and would a million times over, follow him into the depths of hell. The petals stick to their skin, creating a small halo of reds and purples where their bodies meet the water.

“You’re doing enough.” Anakin sighs. “You barely sleep, you’re always doing briefings and writing reports, and when we’re finally on a break you’re off training younglings, sitting in for the council, kriffing asking for sparring practice.” He huffs a laugh of disbelief into Obi-wan’s hairline. “You practically run this war yourself sometimes. When do you ever rest?”

Obi-wan is silent for some time, probably thinking of some way to deflect everything. He comes back with rare and unusual honesty. “It feels selfish, taking time for myself when I know there are people out there dying. Innocent people.”

Anakin scoffs. “How are you supposed to help them if you’re ready to keel over yourself, hm?”

“We’re jedi, that’s what we do. Besides,” Obi-wan rubs his face on Anakin’s neck, tone turning sweet, “I have you to make sure I don’t.”

Anakin grins into the wet curve of his head, his hair plastered to his skull from the steam wafting up around them, making the edges of the room disappear into a soft and warm fog.

“You’re enough, and you deserve rest.” He plants an overdone kiss on Obi-wan’s skull, rougher than usual to make a point.

Obi-wan hums noncommittally and tightens his hold on Anakin’s hands, somehow sinking further into Anakin’s chest.

He squeezes once and then untangles his fingers from Obi-wan’s hold to trace over his body. The tops of his thighs are as far as Anakin can reach, so he starts there, letting his fingertips graze over sensitive and supple skin, over soft hair and old scars. He moves to the base of Obi-wan’s stomach, purposefully ignoring his cock in favor of showering him with pure adoration and affection. He’ll let his hands wander there after they’ve eaten and gotten into bed.

Anakin loves the broad plain of Obi-wan’s chest, loves to rest his head on it after a long day, so he spends extra time there, dragging his fingernails across the pink skin, smoothing the sting down with the flat of his palm. He glides up to Obi-wan’s neck and into the base of his auburn hair, gently massaging the tense bundles of nerves that always seem to gather after a long and stressful day, and Obi-wan melts into him, humming sleepily.

Overwhelmed that Obi-wan is his, that this breathtaking man is resting in his arms, seeping into his chest and finding home in his heart, he can’t help but want to stay like this forever: clean, warm, safe, and together.

“You’re so beautiful,” Anakin breathes out, voice cracking, “and I love you so much.”

The petals gleam in agreement, hovering in reverence near him, their red hues like Anakin’s beating heart, holding Obi-wan in place. He understands their predicament; he, too, would bloom and fall and bloom and fall for this man, would reach out as far as he can from the wet and mossy ground to be regarded and gazed at, plucked and taken home. Even if it meant dying, wilting away, it would be worth it to be held near his face, to be carefully tucked into a vase to watch over him in the final days. Him and these flowers are one and the same, always gravitating towards the brightest point in the room, his sun, his reason for blooming.

Soft and slow breaths escape Obi-wan, and his chest evens out in a regular cadence. He must have fallen asleep. Good, Anakin thinks.

Anakin holds him close and watches the bubbles pop, one by one, as the time passes. Candlelight reflects off of the still surface of the water, the rise and fall of Obi-wan’s chest the only movement causing faint ripples. This is the closest he’s come to meditation lately, and it feels so wonderful.

He’s not sure what time it is, and can’t be bothered to care if anyone has comm’d him. Here in the four corners of their shared space is Anakin’s entire universe, and bliss simmers in his chest.

Anakin’s fingers are starting to prune and sweat drips off of chin. The water is starting to cool, though, and if Obi-wan hadn’t been stuck to his body, he probably would want to get out. He doesn’t want to wake him though, as sleep is rare and precious these days.

His stomach, however, has a different idea, and growls loudly, startling Obi-wan awake, who chuckles at the sound.

“Maybe we should go eat that food you brought back,” he teases.

Anakin can’t help the guilty smile that creeps its way onto his face. “How does eating and going back to sleep sound?”

“Sounds like the best plan you’ve ever improvised, my dear.”

Anakin makes a psh noise. “I don’t ever improvise.”

Obi-wan scoffs, a high pitched laugh from the back of his throat. “So this was all planned, then?”

Anakin sees the opportunity and takes it. “What, falling in love with you? No, but that has been my greatest achievement this far.”

Obi-wan raises his head from Anakin’s shoulder and meets him at eye level, twisting his body around to kiss Anakin deeply, biting his lower lip and sucking. Anakin snakes a hand to the back of his head and kisses back, trying to pour all his love, his entire heart, all of him, into Obi-wan’s mouth. He wants Obi-wan to pluck him, and know he loves me, he loves me, he loves me with the pull of each petal.

Obi-wan breaks their kiss and leans back, staring into his eyes. “Well, unlike you, I do actually plan, and my greatest achievement this far will be devouring the order of fries waiting for me in the kitchen.”

Anakin laughs, and flicks water at his face.

#obikin #boonki writes #obi-wan/Anakin #obi wan/anakin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #swcw #star wars #fluff #pure fluff #anakin is king of fancy baths #fanfic #writing #why do i always write at 3 am?? i am too tired to edit this

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ghostly-cabbage · 3 years

Text

Frigid (Chapter 6)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Chapter Rating: T (Language)

Word Count: 6,435

AO3 FFN

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And here Danny thought he was done with getting punishment for the day. He hit the gym floor: hard.

It made his vision go black for a second. Fucking ow. If he got another concussion he was going to be pissed. At this point he was giving the football players a run for their money.

His awareness came back to him in spots at first, dancing across his vision, then all at once. Lucky for him—it was just in time to see Skulker firing another volley of ecto-missiles at him.

Shit.

He curled up and summoned a dome shield. The projectiles exploded on contact one after the other. It deafened the sound for the most part, but he still felt like a fish whose glass bowl was being tapped on. The explosions ceased, green tinted smoke obscuring his sight.

Danny didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He dropped his shield and launched himself straight up at the place he’d last seen Skulker, fist coming into contact with the bottom of Skulker’s chin. The ghost grunted, sailing upward and punching a second hole through the roof of the gym.

Danny cringed as glass, broken light fixtures, and wood fell down. At least it was the weekend. There’d probably be enough time to patch it up. What was a little more property damage on his record, right?

Ugh.

“For once you had great timing,” Danny said to the empty room. His legs melded together into his tail and he listened carefully to his surroundings. “If I didn’t know any better, Skulker, I’d almost think you’re stalking me.” There was a beat, before the sound of a net launching from a gun broke the silence. Danny twisted on instinct, narrowly dodging the net. It whooshed past and stuck to the wall behind him.

Skulker returned to visibility. He floated across from Danny, scowling.

He growled. “Silence, whelp. It’s easier to lure you out when you’re not busy being a prisoner in this human infested place.”

Well, that was half of it at least.

“Aw, so you do care about my schedule. I’m touched.” Danny pressed the palm of his hand over his core. His tail flicked and he crossed his arms. “But you know that shit you just pulled isn’t going to fly.”

“Please, Ghost Child,” Skulker sneered. “I was merely toying with those puny humans. I wasn’t going to harm them.”

“Ever heard of psychological trauma?” Danny dead-panned. He didn’t wait for an answer and fired an ecto-blast straight at Skulker’s chest. It connected with a hollow crack and Skulker let out a shout. He dropped ten feet before catching himself. Danny rushed forward, aiming a kick to the side of his face.

Skulker held up his arm, blocking the blow with the back of his forearm. The force of the kick resounded against the metal with a clang.

Danny pulled back out of close range, noting the sizable dent in Skulker’s arm.

Skulker roared and held up his arm to fire a wrist-ray. Danny strafed to the side, expecting the hot fizzle of an ecto-ray. But nothing happened.

They both paused, Skulker's eyes narrowing. He inspected his dented arm.

“Now look what you’ve done, brat.”

Danny lifted his arms in an exaggerated shrug.

Skulker held his arm out, attempting to fire the ray again. Nothing. The ghost made a frustrated sound.

“Here, maybe this’ll help.” Danny’s breath went icy as he shot a jagged spike of ice at Skulker's arm. He watched with giddy satisfaction as the ice punctured and tore a hole through the metal.

Skulkers arm exploded.

Danny squinted against the flash of green, going intangible to avoid the metal shrapnel. He blinked the inverted spot from his vision. Skulker’s arm was completely gone, leaving nothing but a jagged hole with wires that stuck out, arcing thin forks of electricity. Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He floated on his stomach, steepling his hands underneath his chin.

“Sucks, man. You never wanna overload a jammed ecto-weapon.” He clicked his tongue three times in a row, shaking his head. “You’d think such a great hunter would know that.”

“Of course I knew that!” he snapped. “You’ll pay for this, Ghost Child.”

“Oh no, I’m so terrified,” he said, grin plastered across his face. Man, two days of R&R really did a ghost some good.

“Insolent whelp,” Skulker said. A mechanical arm extended from his back, unleashing a football-length green rocket that headed straight for Danny. It looked like a homing missile.

Danny shot upwards out through the bigger of the two holes. He put on the brakes, and skirted to the side just as the missile zipped up past him. He let energy build in his palm.

The thing about homing missiles was most of them weren’t great with tight turns. The rocket spluttered as it twisted to come straight back down. It made it an easy target.

He fired an ecto-blast. It exploded on contact in a brilliant sphere of green. Danny phased back down through the roof. The explosion shook the lights, making them flicker more, but it’d been far enough up it didn’t cause any other damage.

Danny twisted in mid-air and flew at Skulker. His eyes widened and he turned his defenseless side away from Danny, back-peddling.

He fired an ecto-ray at Skulkers undamaged shoulder. He didn’t pack as much power into it as he could have. He banked, cutting an elliptical circle while holding the ray on target.

“You know, as much as I appreciate the practice, we’ve gotta stop having these here at school.” He didn’t let up on the beam until he’d flanked Skulker. He zipped in while the ghost was still recovering.

He went with the same roundhouse that Skulker had blocked before. His foot slammed into the side of Skulker’s head, sending the hunter spinning sideways. Danny charged a blast in his palm. He lifted up his left hand and squinted his right eye closed, using his thumb to line up his shot. Who said he was only a show off when people were watching?

At the moment Skulker stopped tumbling and righted himself, Danny unleashed his blast. It hissed through the air and Skulker had no hope of dodging it. It slammed into the shoulder joint of Skulker's good arm which, already weakened by Danny’s ray, popped off like the limb of a cheap action figure.

Skulker let out a wordless scream of frustration.

A smug grin worked its way onto Danny’s face. He was getting too damn good at this, if you asked him.

Danny closed the gap between them. He grabbed the holes where Skulker's shoulders should have been and somersaulted forward, flipping the ghost over his head. Danny threw him down, directly into a basketball hoop.

Skulker, of course, being much larger than a basketball, didn’t make it through. Instead, his head wedged into the hoop, his legs churning helplessly in the air.

Danny spluttered. “Oh my God.” He burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

“Oh my God, I wish I had my phone. That worked even better than I thought it would, holy shit.” He dropped a few feet in the air involuntarily.

“Laugh while you can, Ghost Child,” Skulker grunted. He could easily phase out, but he seemed to know when he was defeated.

Danny leaned back, rotating upside down in the air as he laughed. “Of all times that Sam and Tuck aren't here.” He wiped a tear from under his eye. “Hey— Hey, Skulker.” He flew up to Skulker.

He glared at Danny through the net.

“This is what we kids today call getting fucking dunked on.” Danny snorted and descended into more laughter.

“You’re enjoying this far too much, whelp.”

Danny held his sides until the hilarity of the visual started to die down. His breathing evened out and the tickle in his chest faded.

“Hey, the amount of times you’ve trapped me in something awful, I think I deserve this.” He sighed, content, his shoulders sagging as a last chuckle left him. “This is exactly what I needed after detention today.” Danny reached for the thermos on his belt.

“Anyway—” he uncapped the thermos “—same time next week, then?” He pressed the button and the thermos kicked on. He pointed the beam at Skulker, watching as it dragged his warping form into its confines.

The thermos dimmed and Danny twirled it in his palm, blowing the wisps of smoke from its end. He really needed to empty it when he got home today.

“What is that? How’d it do that?”

“Holy F—” Danny jumped. The thermos slipped from his grasp and he fumbled it a few times before he caught it and pulled it back against his chest. He turned towards the voice, shocked to see a familiar face.

Wesley-fucking-Weston.

He was peeking in through a gap of a gym door.

What the fuck?

“Uh... How long have you been standing there?”

And how the hell had Danny let a human sneak up on him? Let alone some gangly asshole who didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation in his whole body?

Wesley hesitated, scanning the gymnasium again. He stepped the rest of the way into the gym.

“Uhm, for a bit?”

“Right… and where’s your friends?” Danny slowly floated backwards.

Why was this dude determined to be up in his business? As afraid as Wesley looked the first day of school, Danny thought he wouldn’t willingly get within a mile of another ghost. Guess he was wrong.

“I ditched them and snuck back into the building,” he said, like it was obvious. “People here at school say you’re a ‘good’ ghost,” he added. Danny’s eyes drifted around the room as he contemplated turning invisible and flying through the roof.

Was he going somewhere with this or…?

“Are you?”

His eyes snapped back down to Wesley.

He cleared his throat.“Uh. I try to be?” Danny was no stranger to students at Casper approaching him after a fight to try and talk or even flirt with him. He shuddered at the amount of times Paulina or even Dash had asked him to hangout or go get something to eat.

But this wasn't like those times. Danny hated to admit he was genuinely intrigued, and even impressed by Wesley’s audacity.

“If you’re unsure enough to be asking, why would you come alone?” He hadn’t meant it to be threatening, but Wesley took half a step back towards the door. He licked his lips.

“Because I have questions about ghosts.”

Danny’s face twisted. He hooked the thermos back on his waist and ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Why ask me? Listen— there’s plenty of people in Amity that know about ghosts. You don’t need to ask a real one.”

Wesley lifted a hand and rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, but all they ever talk about is you. Either how great you are or how you’re secretly a menace to society.”

Huh, he must have talked to Valerie.

“Then what question is important enough you decided to approach a ‘dangerous’ ghost… by yourself?”

“I just—I want to know why ghosts here are so different, and who better to ask than an actual ghost? I guess I figured with how much people drool over you that you were the least likely to kill me. I mean you could’ve on the first day if you’d wanted to… There’s obviously some truth to what people say about you.”

Danny blinked. Okay, that made some sense. But then…

“Why do you want to know that specifically?”

Wesley turned his head. “It’s personal.”

...Alright, sure.

He let out a long suffering sigh.

“Listen, I hate to disappoint, Person-I’ve-Never-Met-Before, but I haven’t really been outside of Amity Park much…” He knew the answer, of course he did, but he didn’t exactly go around as Phantom spouting off his ghost knowledge. There were things about ecto-biology he knew that only a Fenton would know... and some things only a half-ghost would know.

Wesley looked stricken. It was a weird look on him.

“But you’re still a ghost, can’t you just—” he flexed his hands in front of him like he was trying to grasp something— “make an informed guess?”

Ugh, God.

Danny dragged a hand down over his face.

Fine.

“If I tell you what I think, will you actually get the hell outta dodge the next time there’s a fight?” When people tried to stick around, they were more likely to get caught in the cross-fire. While Danny wasn’t exactly fond of the dude, that didn’t mean he wanted Wesley hurt. The thought of him or anyone getting hurt because of him made him twitch; he ignored the spike of nervous energy that thrashed in his core.

Wesley looked up at him, blinking green eyes.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“I’m dead, dude. What else could I want?” He’d love for Wesley to leave him, Fenton him, alone entirely. But he’d take what he could get.

Wesley faltered. “I dunno.” He muttered something else under his breath, something a normal human would have missed: “doesn’t make sense why you’d want that either though.”

Danny shook his head and floated down a bit. “If I had to guess, it’d be because of the portal.”

“Portal?”

“Yeah, the Fenton Ghost Portal?” That at least was common knowledge around Amity now.

Wesley squinted his eyes.

“You haven't heard of it?” Danny asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know! I’m new here!”

“Clearly.”

Wesley made a face like he was about to say something stupid. “Okay, sure, there’s a portal. What’s it have to do with ghosts?”

Holy hell.

Why was he doing this again?

“It’s’a portal directly into the Ghost Zone, dude,” he said incredulously. “Ya’know, The Infinite Realms? Land of the Dead?”

Wesley paled.

“Wait that’s… How’s that possible?”

“How should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?”

“I mean… Kinda?” He gestured vaguely to Danny’s person.

He looked down. Oh yeah, hazmat suit. Right.

Danny wiggled in place. “Not the point, alright? Are you going to keep interrupting me?”

Wesley made a face. “You’re the one asking me questions!”

Danny waved a hand, flustered. “Okay, okay, shut up.” God, Wesley was so annoying. “Portals open up naturally all over the world, ‘kay? Well, here in Amity there’s a stable portal that stays open, meaning a constant influx of Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is an energy source.”

“Which means...?”

“I’m getting there.” He twitched his tail. A motion which seemed to confuse Wesley, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, and use it for energy blah, blah.” Danny twirled a hand. “What I’m saying is that here, ghosts have almost constant access to the Ghost Zone and Ectoplasm. It means unlimited energy. Ghosts without access to ecto-energy have to try and build up energy from other ambient sources like electronics, peoples emotions, weather, you name it. It takes forever to build up enough to materialize or interact with humans or solid objects. So ghosts in other places are probably less solid, making sightings and interactions fewer and far between.” Danny blew out a breath. “That answer your question?”

Wesley was silent for a second, face wrinkled in thought.

“I guess… That makes sense—but—”

“Cool, glad to help. Well, this has been—something. But I’ve gotta—” Danny started, only to get interrupted when someone burst through the gym door. Wesley jumped, letting out a less than manly yelp.

It was a basketball player with tan skin and broad shoulders. One of the Seniors if Danny remembered right.

“Jesus Christ, dude, there you are! Do you have a death wish or—” the dude stopped short as his eyes landed on Danny. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “P—Phantom!” He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that people gave him.

“Hi.” He held up a hand in greeting. “Anyway, I got the ghost, so…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna...”

He went invisible and headed in the direction of the nearest supply closet. He still had to get his stuff before he went home.

“Imma big fan!” the basketball player called after him into the empty air. He smiled and shook his head as he phased through the wall of the gym.

Danny was half-way down the hall from the entrance, human once again with his bag heavy on his shoulder, when the doors flung open and two familiar silhouettes filled the entryway.

Oh no.

“Everyone outta the way! That ghost won’t know what hit it once we—” His dad’s booming voice stopped when he saw him.

“Danny?” his mom called. She pushed past his dad and lowered her ecto-weapon. “Sweetie, what are you doing? Are you okay?” She hurried up to him. The surface of her goggles made it impossible for him to see anything but his own reflection. Her voice was tight and gentle as she grabbed him by the chin, turning his face this-way-and-that to suss out any injury.

Danny silently thanked whatever higher-power might be listening that he didn’t have any bruises on his face. His back was probably another story. He hadn’t stayed in ghost-form long enough to heal it. His backpack hurt everywhere it was in contact with him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, leaning away and trying to wave her off. Her hand dropped and she gripped him by his shoulder.

“One of your teachers called and said there was a ghost and the alarm wasn’t working.”

“Oh, that’s crazy. Why didn’t it go off?”

Dad came up to stand next to his mom, Fenton Bazooka hefted on his shoulder.

“Don’t know Dann-o, but we intend to find out!”

“Uhm, I heard stuff coming from the gym a bit ago actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sufferin’ spooks! Come on, Mads, before we miss it!” His dad said and took off down the hall.

His mom took a few steps to leave before she turned to him. “We’re going to be having a talk about your detention today, so no going to Sam or Tucker’s, alright?”

He sighed and shoved his left hand in his hoodie pocket. Of course Mrs. Merriweather had called his parents.

“Fine,” he huffed.

“Love you, hun!” And then she was off.

Detention during the first week. His parents must be so proud. He ran his fingers through his hair, digging his fingertips in and messaging his scalp, mussing his hair.

He’d said he’d try harder this year, and he’d meant it. Even though it didn’t feel like it there had been a steady downtick of ghost attacks. Had been since after Pariah Dark and that whole mess. Hell, even the thing with Skulker was more like a game nowadays than it was serious.

But that didn’t mean all ghosts felt the same way. Especially the ones that popped up now and again to “test their skills on the one who’d bested Pariah Dark in combat”. Those were the worst.

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat.

Dead “Allegedly”: Hey Tuck did u disable the school ghost alarm?

He wasn’t even at the bottom of the Casper steps when a reply chimed in.

Hacker (Derogatory): Nah, man. I wish tho

Emo’s Not Dead: Why?

Dead “Allegedly”: Just wondering, Skulker showed up and the alarm didn’t work or smth

Hacker (Derogatory): huh, maybe he disabled them?

Dead “Allegedly”: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

…

My parents know I got detention so I can’t hangout tonight. Didn’t say anything about games tho, Doomed later?

Emo’s Not Dead: Hell yeah, hope you guys are ready to get owned lmao

Hacker (Derogatory): Bro, do you even have to ask? I’ve been working on a new loadout and not to brag but it’s pretty sick

Danny rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. The Ghost Assault Vehicle was parked up over the curb and onto the grass in front of the school. Dad must’ve drove. He didn’t really want to walk, he needed to make sure he had enough time to sneak into the lab and flush the thermos.

He walked up to the back of the GAV and pulled the handle. The door unlatched and swung open. Another thing that proved Dad drove. He never remembered to lock the GAV or the Speeder.

Danny hopped in and tugged the door closed behind him. He reached for his core and the icy transformation washed over him. It eased the ache in his back and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He turned invisible and slipped up through the roof. He turned towards home and started flying.

The sun hadn’t set yet, and wouldn't for another hour or so, but the shadows were still long. He could feel the sun’s dull warmth through the material of his jumpsuit. The nights were already getting longer and colder. The wind whisked past him with the type of fall chill that cut straight through sweaters and coats. The streets and cars blurred underneath him and a thought bubbled up from the back of his mind.

He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel cold.

Not in the human way, the “coming in from outside and sinking into soft blankets with a cup of hot cocoa” kind of way. The negative temperatures of the Far Frozen, of space, hadn’t fazed him since his cryo-core settled.

Like a stone settling in his stomach, he wondered what else he’d start to forget about being fully alive as the years went by. He tried to push the thought into the back of his mind.

The amalgamous shape of the Ops Center glinted in the evening light ahead of him. Danny flew around the side of the building and phased through the wall directly into his bedroom. He tossed his bag towards his desk.

He turned human again a few feet above his bed. He let gravity take hold of him, falling onto the mattress. He bounced a bit before sinking into its surface. His back felt better already. He sighed, wondering if he could get away with a nap before dinner.

Maybe. Provided a ghost didn’t show up.

He peeled himself up off the bed and crouched by his bag. He snatched the thermos and headed downstairs.

The portal hummed, the only noise in the otherwise silent lab. His soft-soled sneakers patted quietly over the metal panel floor. Danny uncapped the thermos and flushed its occupants back into the Ghost Zone. He puffed some hair out of his eyes and closed the now empty thermos.

Right. Nap. Suffer through the “you need to try harder young man” talk. Then Doomed. It was their second “weekend” this week. He wanted to try and have some fun. After the shitty start to the week he deserved it. He’d worry about his homework later.

***

Saturday night brought dark roiling storm clouds that blotted out the stars. The wind howled, stripping orange and red leaves off their branches. The air tasted of rain and stray drops peppered the grey pavement beneath him.

Danny flipped up the hood of his hoodie as he skirted the edge of Amity’s Central Park. Just because he was immune to the cold didn’t mean he liked being rained on. He could stay intangible if he wanted but he was way too lazy for that.

He flew a languid loop in the air as he changed directions to head towards the mall. It’d been a quiet patrol, nothing out of the ordinary.

Which, on a night like this, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was a lightning storm building up high in the clouds—which meant more ambient energy. He could feel it the same way he could feel heavy concentrations of ecto-energy. The buzz on his skin, soupy and dense. It tore him in two directions, amped on the energy and nauseous at the feeling of electricity.

Why couldn’t it have been a snow storm?

He tucked his gloved hands into the pocket of his hoodie and meandered over the parking lot, careful to fly below the power lines and telephone poles.

A shiver prickled down his spine and he hiccupped over a cloud of mist. Yep, right on time. He heard distant screams coming from the mall.

He perked up, shooting towards it, the roof of the mall a grey streak. As he got closer he could tell what part of the mall he was headed towards.

Best Buy. Great.

Danny heard glass shatter and a stream of floating electronics burst out through the sides and ceiling windows of the mall, a maniacal cackling laugh from above him.

“Technus,” Danny acknowledged, eyes narrowing. The levitating electronics whisked past him and circled Technus.

“Oh, yes! It is indeed I, Technus!” he cried. His voice grated on Danny’s ears and he pushed his hood back down with a hand.

“What’s up? Mad I wiped the floor with your boyfriend on Friday?” Danny grinned, floating up to be eye level with Technus.

The ghost choked, swallowing his laugh.

“What— I— No! How dare you, Child,” he snapped. The wind whipped past them. “I’m here for my own gain! How dare you insinuate that Skulker and I are anything more than—”

“Huh, I never mentioned Skulker specifically,” Danny said dumbly, tapping a finger against his chin.

“Why you—” Technus lifted a hand and a clump of electronics flew at Danny. He dodged with a laugh.

“Everyone knows, it’s okay,” Danny called. He forced energy into his hand, flinging a few blasts at Technus.

The other ghost ducked under one, blocking the other with a wall of technology. He glared at Danny and pulled the machines towards himself. Like pieces to a puzzle, the tech slotted onto his skin, creating a makeshift canon.

“You know, Child, the capabilities of modern technology grow faster and more powerful by the year.” The cannon whirred, the inside going from black to a glowing green. “Can you guess who that benefits most?” Technus said over the wind. It fired and Danny scrambled to bring up a shield in time.

“You’re fast as ever, child, but we’ll see how well you can stand up to a few more!” He fired, this time the ecto-blast hit harder. Hairline cracks appeared in Danny’s shield.

Uh-oh.

With a whine the cannon shot again. Danny dove straight for the ground just as it shattered his shield. Technus laughed.

Okay, so he needed to avoid getting hit by that, holy shit. Danny glared up at Technus. His mind churred, trying to come up with a way to get an opening to use the thermos. If he could just—

A flash of pink streaked through the sky. It struck Technus in the center of his back and he dropped with a scream onto the roof of the mall. The technology, no longer being controlled, started to rain down.

A red flash and the sound of a jet sled drew Danny’s attention.

Valerie.

She twisted mid-air, the nose of her board pivoting as she drifted to a stop.

“Hey, Red!” he called out to her. She turned her head towards him, the eye panel of her mask reflecting his cold glow.

“Phantom,” she said. It didn’t hold as much of its usual contempt. She must be in a good mood. She also wasn’t shooting at him. He smiled and decided he’d try his luck.

“How about a truce?” He flew towards her.

“Why would I do that when you haven’t told me anything about that new ghost?”

Danny’s shoulders sagged. “I told you already that I don’t know anythinnnnnggg.”

“And I already said I don’t believe you.”

Danny let his legs fade into his tail and he flew an anxious figure-eight.

“Come on, Red! It’s Technus!” He stuck his arms out to gesture down to the ghost. “We hate Technus!”

“Hey! I resent that, Ghost Child!” Technus yelled from where he was picking himself up and dusting himself off.

Danny gestured more insistently.

Valerie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on her sled. “Oh yeah, he brings back such great memories.”

Oh. Wait. He shouldn’t have—

“Like that time you almost killed me!” She snapped.

“Red, I’ve told you before that I knew—”

“‘—knew it wasn’t me’ blah blah blah.” She opened and closed her hand in a talking motion. “So you say, Ghost.”

“We can hash it out again later! But can we take care of Technus now please? Because he’s sort of escaping.”

Valerie looked down to see that Technus was, in fact, fleeing, electronics clumping into a massive platform beneath him as he flew away. She sighed.

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Truce.”

“Yes!” Danny peeled off in a blur, Valerie right behind him. Val was a great ally when he could convince her to team up. He hoped she secretly thought the same of him.

Valerie was stubborn and could clearly hold a grudge like no other. But over the years, it felt more like she chased him out of obligation. Like she couldn’t admit she might be wrong about him. So she just did what they’d always done.

Danny didn’t blame her. There was real anger and frustration behind her words when she talked to him, but he’d be stupid not to notice she missed her shots on purpose these days.

Technus turned and fired his arm cannon at them as they caught up. Danny skirted to the left, rolling into a loose corkscrew, flying underneath Technus’s floating pile of technology and popping up on the ghost’s right. He unleashed a ghost-ray at Technus with so much force it carried him off the makeshift platform.

The ghost caught himself in flight with a triumphant cackle. It died in his throat as he looked up.

Valerie was right on top of him. A pink blast of ecto-energy hissed through the raging air and into Technus’ arm cannon. The tech burst into pieces, falling in a black heap to the ground.

“You think that would slow me down, you stupid girl?!” Technus sneered, flying backwards. He sent a ghostly clump of appliances careening into her path. She pulled up at the last second.

“You children just don’t know when to stop meddling in other people's business, do you?”

“Nope,” Danny called as he flew by, firing a barrage of ecto-blasts. Technus brought up a shield that deflected them. “Maybe don’t steal shit and trash the mall every two months and I’ll think about it.”

Valerie came in from the other side, rapid firing with her hand held blaster. Danny flanked him, an ice-ray at the ready. A few shots found their target before Technus moved his shield. He screeched over the wind.

Technus held out a hand and a crackling ball of electricity built up. It snapped and flickered yellowish green. The sky above them heaved.

Technus held out his hand towards Danny and they locked eyes.

Danny came to a dead stop in the air. His core stuttered in his chest. Fear, raw and paralyzing, crashed through him like a freight train. For a second he thought he might black out, fall like a stone from the air. They stared at each other.

He wouldn’t.

Technus knew better.

He couldn’t.

With a stunned blink, Technus moved his hand and released the electrical charge far from Danny. It went wide and collided with the mall sign. The sign exploded like it’d been struck by lightning. Plastic and glass flew through the air, and with a terrible creak the pole swayed before falling into the parking lot like a felled tree. It narrowly missed a car.

Danny let out a shaky breath, trying to still the tremble in his hands. It was raining harder now, pinpricks of cold slicking down his hair.

“Phantom, what’re you doing just floating there? Move!” Valerie said, slowing down just enough to talk before speeding off again.

Right. He needed to snap out of it.

He shook his head and started flying. Technus was still trying to get away with all his stolen tech.

Danny let out a slow breath, trying to hold it steady. He reached for the cold and tried to get a lead on Technus. His hand glowed blue as he shot an ice-ray into the clump of electronics. He let out a yelp and wobbled in the air.

Danny tilted and flew closer to Val.

“Red, keep him distracted, I’ll try and get him in the thermos,” he said, unhooking it from his belt.

“Don’t tell me what to do, ghost,” she growled. “...but fine. You better get him though. I have my own shit to do.”

“Would it kill you to use my name once in a while?”

She pointed her blaster at him.

“Okay! Okay! I get it, sheesh.” He held up a hand and dropped back, letting Valerie move ahead. She went after Technus with no mercy, throwing ghost grenades and raining ecto-blasts down on him.

Technus reassembled his cannon, trying to hold his own. He fired at Valerie but she was nimble, avoiding each one.

“Would you hold still!” Technus snapped, bracing himself against the kick of his ecto-gun.

Danny grinned and went invisible. Having someone to draw the fire was always useful. He circled Technus, sneaking up behind him, uncapping the thermos as he got close.

“Hey, tell Skulker I said hi.” Technus whirled around just in time to see the barrel of the thermos illuminate. His eyes stretched wide and an angry noise was all that escaped him as the thermos pulled him in.

All the technology that Technus had been controlling broke apart and pelted towards the ground.

Shit.

He reached out with his powers, catching as much as he could. He winced at the mental strain. He didn’t use his telekinesis for this magnitude of stuff very often. He needed to practice it more, it was still relatively new after all.

Most, if not all of the technology, was busted, but that didn’t mean he wanted to let it destroy more stuff. He guessed that a refrigerator landing on a car wouldn’t buff out easily.

He maneuvered the electronics towards the curb in front of the Best Buy, setting it all down as gently as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped rain from his face with a sleeve.

“Nice, thanks for the help, Red.” He shot her a smile.

She holstered her weapon. “You better put that ghost back where it belongs.”

“I always do,” Danny said. “See ya next time?”

Valerie hummed. “We’ll see.” Danny expected her to jet off, but she lingered. “You mean what you said about that new ghost?”

Danny folded his legs underneath him and sat in mid-air.

“Cross my heart hope to die,” he said with a grin.

She groaned.

“But, yeah. I don’t know what her deal is. She didn’t seem very interested in throwing hands with me, that’s for sure.”

Valerie held her chin. “Weird... The last few new ghosts have destroyed half the town trying to get to you.” The last bit of her sentence took on a suspicious tone.

He held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t know either. It’s not like I like getting pounded flat every few months, Red.”

“Why do they want to fight you specifically?”

“I don’t know,” he lied with a shrug. He looked up at the clouds, blinking through the rain. “Could be the whole ‘Protector of Amity Park Thing’.”

Val scoffed. “Oh, please.” Danny could imagine that she was rolling her eyes. “So... what? They want to get you out of here to claim Amity for themselves?”

“Who knows. Probably.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to say how glad I am that we have you instead of one of them?” Her voice was testy, a tone Danny knew well.

“Your words not mine.” He gave her a lopsided smile, forcing down the discomfort worming through his gut. He should leave before she got too worked up. He had one too many scars from when she’d decided a truce was over.

“Well, it’s been nice. But we should get out of this rain. We’ll catch our death out here. Hah!” He pointed finger guns at Valerie.

“Phantom… I’m gonna give you a ten second head start—”

Danny turned tail and flew, a genuine laugh working it’s way up from his chest.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #Phan Phic #danny fenton #Wesley Weston #Skulker #Technus #valerie grey #red huntress #Frigid #My writing #unidentified flying ship #Danny x Wesley #Danny x Wes #Slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers

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catstrophysics-fics · 3 years

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Been a while since I posted something here. Dean/Cas, 2k, domestic and written in one sitting. Likes, comments, and reblogs WILDLY appreciated! It wasn’t dark at night in the city. Streetlights glowed orange, marking every 100 feet with soldier’s precision—guards never present along backroads and country highways. Buildings adorned with neon signs lined the street, marketing “OPEN” or “VACANCY” or any of the thousand other possibilities for a storefront. Even the horizon shone, light pollution leaching into the night sky unlike anything he’d see among the trees. It wasn’t dark at night, and the Impala’s headlights barely showed against the road.

Sam was home, keeping tabs on Eileen as she hunted down a siren that only targeted men, leaving Dean and Castiel to sort out wrapping up a case in Nowhere, USA. The case was an easy finish: exorcise a demon, salt the doors and windows afterwards, and check the perimeter for anything else dodgy. Then they were alone downtown, and for the first time in too long they had a night to themselves. They started with the basics. Take Baby to a gas station, fill her up and clean the mud (and blood) off of her chrome, then Rain-X the windshields. Stop by the most middle-of-the-road all-night diner they could find, Dean slipping off his overcoat in the car before they went in. He ordered a burger, same as always. Castiel sat across from him in the cramped linoleum booth, same as always. The persistent shake in his leg had slowed to an occasional bounce, and he stretched out both feet under the booth, barely mustering the care to flinch away when he knocked into Castiel’s legs. For a split second he considered apologizing, but when Castiel nabbed a fry off of his plate—he didn’t need to eat, but Dean had long since learned he’d snag bites of food when he felt really happy—he called it even and let his knee rest softly against the side of Castiel’s. Dean ate slowly. Castiel watched. The streetlights outside flickered every handful of minutes, a reminder that time passed even as they sat nearly motionless. He snagged another fry, and this time Dean batted at his thieving fingers with his free hand. That’s mine, his initial look said, but with a cocked eyebrow and half of a sideways smile he relented (as always; so it had been, so it always would be). They finished eating, talking of anything but hunting. I don’t understand why we need to sleep here tonight, Cas had said, met by Dean’s reciprocal I need sleep, and you’re not driving. Never mind that Castiel could drive perfectly well, save for when a truck swerved into his lane and the stereo turned on full blast, or when bouts of road rage would pop tires off of cars in front of him. Aside from incidents like that, he was a good driver, patient in a way Dean assumed came with millennia of watching time come and go. Dean paid, tipping 20% and rounding up to the nearest whole number, some remnant of John and Mary discussing credit card bills and adding them up themselves hanging over from his childhood. They stood, neither acknowledging that they’d been separated only by the fabric of their pants moments before, and Dean held the door on their way out, giving the restaurant one last once-over (for black eyes, glowing blue eyes, and a glance for silver eyes on the monitor over the door). The Impala glistened in the night, chrome freshly wiped and windshields free of the dirt of miles. Absently, Dean checked his watch, more of a habit than anything, and Castiel cocked his head inquiringly. Dean flipped his hand over, showing an upside-down 10:32, and they got in the car with a thunk of the locks shifting. The engine turned over with Dean’s key, and the radio crackled back to life, playing one of Led Zeppelin’s lesser-known songs softly. By some unspoken mutual agreement, they drove aimlessly. The city was nice, Dean thought, small enough to be beneath the notice of big box chain stores and big enough to have infrastructure they didn’t run into most places. A few nice houses scattered around, painted murals on the sides of strip malls, and straggly if well-kept medians. A swath of dark green appeared up the road, and without turning his head he could feel Castiel looking at him hopefully, a question hanging in the air like static electricity. Dean turned on the blinker, and a sense of satisfaction permeated the front seat. The park was nice. The whole city, really, was nice, Dean thought. Well-proportioned. Cas seemed to like it, too, it seemed, as he walked a few feet ahead not by any conscious thought; Dean just preferred to hang back and watch him, sometimes. Turn the tables a little, see him when he’s off guard and full of wonder even after all his years on

Earth. They wandered without direction, taking the first path they saw before breaking off to follow tiny train tracks for a spell, Castiel walking carefully between the ties and Dean balancing haphazardly on the rails themselves. A few dozen yards into their balancing act, Castiel tripped, and without thinking Dean caught him around the forearm, holding him steady until he regained his footing. Unlike back home, when they’d limit touching to necessities such as healing or spellwork, Castiel didn’t seem inclined to shake Dean off, and Dean didn’t let go, sliding his hand down to rest closer to Castiel’s as though it were the most natural thing in the world. They carried on, tracks now running between them The train tracks ended abruptly with a miniature “STOP!” sign before opening up into a paved pavilion with a pool in the middle, bubbling softly. Castiel paused, hand slipping out of Dean’s as he looked around slowly, eyes aglow not from within but from the reflections of the lights around the pavilion off of the water. Dean stepped up beside him, careful not to break whatever spell seemed to have come over him in the pavilion. “Y’know,” he said, hearing his words bounce back off of the white stone, “I could teach you how to dance.” Castiel turned to him slowly, surprised at first before his expression settled into something softer. Dean felt his cheeks heat, conversations late at night in motel rooms slipping back into his mind. “You’d said you wanted to learn, and Sonny made all of us boys go to cotillion at least once.” He cracked a grin, and Castiel’s lips responded reflexively. “I can waltz like nobody’s business.” For a split second it looked like he was going to refuse, carefully place another layer of brick between whatever forbidden hands reached out between them. Then he stepped forward off the end of the track, coat swishing, and waited expectantly. Frankly, Dean had expected him to decline. Angels weren’t known to dance except on the heads of pins. But it was Cas, standing in the center of the pavilion a few feet from the water’s edge, head cocked as he waited. Dean took a moment to remember, thinking back to teenage him in a scratchy shirt and too-tight bowtie and the one-two-three step he’d committed to muscle memory years ago in a school gym, rattly classical music playing over the PA system as he laughed and flirted carelessly with whatever girl he danced with that night. The steps had never left him, though faces and memories did, and he flipped through the songs he’d since learned he could waltz to. Castiel stood waiting, stiff in the shoulders and watching his every move expectantly. Dean stepped closer, feeling the familiar electric hum that came with proximity to him and a matching buzz hum through his veins. Gently—he pegged the emotion pounding in his chest as nervousness, and butterflies fluttered to life in his stomach to accompany—he moved their hands into place, one around Cas’s waist resting low near his hips, Cas’s right hand on Dean’s left shoulder. Just like always, his fingers tingled when they brushed over the raised scar, and Dean smiled quietly to himself as he interlocked their hands, the easiest motion in the world. “It’s just one-two-three,” Dean said, taking tiny steps of his own to demonstrate. “We’re set up like you’re leading”—because I want your hand on my shoulder, because I want to feel you under my fingertips—“because you’ve got two left feet, and it’s a little easier to start going forward first.” He paused, flexing his fingers in the fabric of Castiel’s coat. “I’ll lead, though, just follow me.” Castiel nodded, and Dean couldn’t help the smile that broke through his nerves. Clearing his throat, he started to hum the opening of his favorite waltz song, holding eye contact with Castiel as they started to move. I put a spell on you Because you’re mine Even wordlessly, he saw recognition spark in Castiel’s eyes, and the happy, comforting buzz of his presence turned up a few notches as they began to move, Dean guiding them backwards in

spiralling circles around the fountain as he hummed through the rest of the song, watching enraptured as the light changed and shifted around them, always seeming to glint an otherworldly blue from Cas’s eyes. I just can't stand it, babe Castiel was relaxing, pulling Dean near-imperceptible millimeters closer with each turn, and Dean let himself be drawn in, magnetic until they were nearly pressed up one another in the glow of the fountain. Because you’re mine. Dean held out the last note for a few moments, still staring intently at Castiel who seemed breathless despite needing no air. A surge of joy rushed through his chest, and he leaned in the few inches between their lips and pressed a quick, happy kiss to the corner of his lips. Behind him, the fountain burst out a geyser of water that cleared the treetops as the backlight in the water flickered to black. The water came raining down on them, still holding each other from dancing, drenching Castiel’s coat and plastering Dean’s hair to his head. They stood frozen for moments, the din of traffic in the distance audible for the first time, and Castiel’s eyes got wider and wider, fear creeping in at the edges until Dean burst out laughing, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder. Slowly, the tension dissipated from his shoulders and he breaks into quiet giggles, starting soft and low and escalating in seconds into the same body-shaking laughter Dean trembled with, both of them tapering to the end of a bout before catching it back from the other. The fountain behind them had returned to normal, the only signs anything had happened the puddle of water surrounding it and the broken, dark bulb underneath. They drew apart slightly, aftershocks of laughter still coursing through them in tandem with adrenaline. “To avoid further municipal catastrophes,” Dean began, before collapsing into another bout of giggles as Castiel squeezed his hand, “I’m giving you advance warning this time: I’m going to kiss you again.” Castiel’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he didn’t give Dean time to lean in before his lips were on Dean’s, wet from fountain water and warm from laughter, and Dean didn’t mind the static shocks passing between their hands and radiating out in all directions from Castiel. They followed the train tracks back to the main path, leaving wet shoe prints behind and a line of drips gathering underneath their joined hands. “Grab the towels from the back,” Dean said as they reached the car. “We’re not dripping all over Baby like this.” It wasn’t dark at all in the city as they drove to the cheapest motel on the edge of town, Dean driving left-handed as he stroked over Cas’s thumb. He parked, got out their only bag (a change of clothes apiece, and a handful of weapons just in case), and his voice didn’t waver at all as he asked for a room with just one bed.

#destiel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic #oneshot #spn #writing #fanfiction #spn fic #fanfic #please reblog if you like it i don't post writing much #<3

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bugchat · 4 years

Text

‘Is it worth it?’

The thought kept circling around in Adrien’s head as he leaned back on the stairs inside the school building. The metal had been warm because of the watery sun, but now it had disappeared behind the graying clouds. Somewhere he knew he should be putting on a jacket or something, but he was too deep in thought to bother moving. He could be cold later.

With the small nobs of the metal digging into his forearms and the wind picking up and messing up his post-shower hair, Adrien let out a sigh of relief of being in the quiet for a second and tilted his head backward with his eyes closed, feeling the last rays of sun on his face.

Footsteps coming from above caught his attention, and he mustered up the energy to open his eyes and tilt his head backwards more to see who was coming. Marinette’s upside-down face came in his vision, and he smiled. She seemed to be processing, her hands stilling around the poster cases clutched between herself and her arms as she blinked. “Are you okay?”

Right. Upside down.

He tilted his head back to be upright again, blinked twice to get the dancing black spots out of his eyes and turned back sideways as she stepped down the last few steps until she was sitting next to him, posters carefully placed on the floor. “Why do you ask?”

“Shouldn’t you be fencing right now?” she asked, before her eyes went wide and she waved with her hands. “I mean... I would assume fencing, because you’re usually driven home immediately after class and all, not that I’ve been looking, but it’s just...” She breathed out shakily before resolutely but softly meeting his eyes again. “You seemed kind of... lost?” She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before taking her purse in hand and fiddling with the clasps on top. “Sorry if that sounds weird.”

He hummed in thought, casting a glance at the incoming rainclouds that would be pouring on their heads soon. “I guess I had to take a breather for a second?”

She blew a breath out of her nose. “Yeah, that I get.”

Right. Marinette had a busy life as well. With her designing and commissions that kept on coming (he’d heard her talking to Alya about it, and even through she was excited about all the things she’d get to try and the challenges it would pose, they were stacking up), he couldn’t imagine Marinette just sitting on her couch watching a movie or playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III. “How are the commissions?”

“Fine,” she smiled. “It’s a lot, but I’ve learned a lot already and I’m planning on learning much more.” She turned back to him, a worried glint in her eyes as she studied his face for a second. “And how are you?”

“Things to do, places to be,” he shrugged. “Father has--”

“That’s not what I asked.” The interruption left him silent for a second, tilting his head at her. “I asked how you are.”

Adrien blinked.

“Um...”

She put her purse back on her hip to turn to him fully, hands now folded together in her lap. She seemed to be itching to reach out to something.

“I guess... I’m tired.” It sounded more like a question as soon as the words left his lips. “It’s been a lot, lately. Shoots, fencing, piano, Chinese, fundraisers, events, galas, dinners...” He caught her alarmed gaze and realized he’d been rambling. “It’s not as bad as it sounds!” he exclaimed. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”

“But do you want to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you having fun at shoots?” She was very close now, responsible class representative seeping into her tone as she shot the question at him. “Are you enjoying it? Looking forward to it? Do you have fun?”

Adrien avoided her gaze and crossed his arms. “I can’t do anything about Father planning those things for me. Nino tried, got akumatized. We tried again, Wayhem got akumatized. I don’t want to see you get akumatized too.”

The look in Marinette’s eyes turned very soft in an instant, and he didn’t know how he should feel about it.

“My Father won’t let me get away with less activities. He’ll pull me out of public school. I have to.”

“So you do all those things--” she said more to herself as a sum-up than to him as a question. “He sends you to do all that, and you do them all, because you aren’t given a choice?”

It sounded worse when she said it.

“I needed a breather,” Adrien admitted, shivering as the wind picked up and the rainclouds got closer.

“Well,” Marinette started, and he turned to see her determined yet pouty face, “I think that’s just plain mean.”

Adrien laughed at the expression combined with the statement, and laughed even harder when Marinette flushed and yelled it wasn’t funny. She was smiling.

So maybe it was worth it.

#bugchat writes #mini fic #ficlet #ml #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #this is a vent fic sue me

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annaofthenorthernlights · 3 years

Text

It´s your life

Chapter 6

New home

Setting: Kristanna - Modern AU

Rating for this chapter: M (mentioning of sexual actions, this time at the end…🙃)

Word counting: 2738

Previous chapters (on AO3)

Summary: When Anna had finished unpacking her suitcases, she felt even more at home. She wondered what it would be like to live here for the rest of her life. The thought made her smile, but was she allowed to think that way then?

Another note at the end of chapter…

Again, Anna stood before her suitcases and bags, that waited to get unpacked. She looked around the room. Kristoff must have rearranged his shelf and cupboard in his bedroom, to provide some space for her personal belongings. She liked her new surroundings. The three-room flat was situated right above the neat little carpentry. It was a cosy place.

Kristoff and Sven had got the chance to purchase the whole complex one year ago, when the former owner simply got too old to run the workshop any longer. The old carpenter had been delighted to leave the whole building to the young newcomers and had asked a fair price, that was in the reach to pay off in due time, if their work would flourish soon enough. And with the new project on plan, they would get good chances to make themselves a respectable name in near time. Sven himself lived next to his parents further down the town.

Kristoff and Sven had just met the project manager for the new construction site today to sign the contract for their involvement in this development. She had been so proud of him and was happy for her.

When Anna had finished unpacking her suitcases, she felt even more at home. She wondered what it would be like to live here for the rest of her life. The thought made her smile, but was she allowed to think that way then? She gnawed on her lips and sat down on the bed and let herself fall backwards to stare at the ceiling. Where would she be supposed to go from here? She didn´t want to be in the way or sort of intruder. But when she had called Kristoff right after she had left the family estate, he had not hesitated a second to announce his coming over to pick her up. Apparently, he was happy to have her here. Anna felt a gratefulness that reached deep within her, like a warm bath she could dwell in and relax, letting all anxiety drift away bit by bit.

The box with her study books sat in the corner. Anna sat up and thought for a moment. Yes, she would finish her studies, pass her finals best she could. But there was no reason not to look for a job in the meanwhile, to make her own living. To start her new gained life with some useful tasks.

And when she heard Kristoff rummaging in the kitchen with pans and plates, she decided to give her newfound freedom a good push start.

*****

It had been a troubled moment when Anna had called him right after his lunch break. She had been shaken; Kristoff could tell. But then, had he not expected such a call, and had he not secretly favoured it to be so? Not that he wanted his girlfriend to be devastated, the way she had got kicked out, not at all. But she was here now, with him, and he so hoped Anna would consider this her home, too. But then, compared to her former home… there was not much he had to offer. So, it had touched him deeply that she had just said this to him two hours ago.

“This is all. There´s not much left… I´ve nothing to bring, Kristoff… Nothing to offer that makes me a great catch to be taken home with. Will you still have me?” She had said. If only she would understand how happy he was having her.

He thought of the little gift box that was stored in his living room desk by now. He had carried it around so many times already. If only he could manage to find the right moment to ask her… But then, she surely needed to settle, to get acquainted with her life, that had just turned upside down within a few hours. How could he come her way now and ask her to join his world without her having figured out her own in the first place…

Kristoff had not heard Anna´s approaching and was occupied with the food on the stove, when two slender arms reached around his waist and a small body leaned in against his back. He smiled at this tender touch and patted Anna´s hands on his chest. It felt good, so good, to have her here.

“Have I thanked you already for taking me in?” She nuzzled into his shoulder blades.

Kristoff turned his head sideways and cooed to her, “have I told you how happy I am of having you here?” He shifted slightly to turn down the gas, shoved the pans to the side and turned within her embrace just to pull her close and burry his lips in her hair.

Gosh, I love you! I want to marry you, make you happy, start a family of our own… laugh with you, cry with you, grow old together, keep each other warm during cold nights…

If only he knew the right moment to ask her…

“Are you hungry? Dinner´s ready.”

*****

“Please, Anna, you don´t need to prove anything to me. Why don´t you just concentrate on your final exams for the upcoming weeks and be my guest for the meanwhile?”

“But I don´t want to be some sort of house sitter.” Anna gnawed on her lips, while turning her napkin in her hands. “You are so generous to me; I mean you shifted your things to leave some space to my stuff and on top of all you serve me the best food one could possibly get in this town. I want to contribute!”

Kristoff sighed and reached forward to lay his hand on hers.

“I know you do. But honestly Anna, I mean it. Take your time to look around and whenever you find something suitable, we can figure out how to proceed. I love having you here with me. And I will not hesitate to tell you every day if necessary. Besides, I always thought relationship is about being there for each other.”

Anna couldn´t help but smile at Kristoff with sparkling eyes. His words had stirred something within her. What if I could stay here forever? But yes, she needed to proceed for now, and to be hosted by this wonderful man was the greatest gift she was allowed to accept right now.

“Thank you!” She said simply. “I promise to concentrate on those upcoming weeks. But please let me at least share some chores with you. Imagine me proofing to you of being a capable housekeeper?” She giggled and waved off the thought with rolling eyes.

Kristoff grinned and remarked laughing, “go ahead. My home is your castle.”

Anna thought for a moment and tilted her head with a smirk.

“Suggestion for this first night… You know, I´m off the rag again.”

*****

Kristoff sat at the bedside and bent down to kiss his sweetheart awake. Not that easy a task, for Anna was a good sleeper. He didn´t mind. She was here and it was important that she feel safe and home. So, a good night rest would do her any good.

“Hey beautiful, good morning.” He cooed to her ear.

A mumbling something came from underneath a mess of red hair.

“I must head down for work. Breakfast is still on the table. Will you be alright? If you need anything don´t hesitate to come down, will you? Or give me a call. Yes?”

The mass of red hair moved slightly, and some part of a face came to sight, eyes still closed but the lips forming a “goo-mon… iwill… thx…”

A good hour later, after a shower and some crunchy oatmeal for the start, Anna sat over her books again. There was not lecture in today, so she could make herself a good home study day, which – at the end – turned out to be not very efficient. While she could hear the sawing machine and hammering and screwing activities from downstairs, Anna cherished the realisation of being where she was.

Though, her thoughts would wander off to here and there. Rewinding memory of the encounter with her grandfather popped into her mind. Then, she mused over how and what Elsa might be up to by now. Anna grabbed her mobile and checked her messages. There was nothing from her sister. She hesitated first, but then she sent off a quick note to Elsa, just saying that she was fine and sitting over her books (after all and at least, her study library was spread out before her, so it was no lie).

But most of all Anna could not help remembering Kristoff surprising her with that unforgettable trip to Disneyland. The memory of their partaking in those two parades made her dream off all along. It had been miraculous. It was just then, that she remembered her idea of the photo that must hang out as their reminder. Anna connected her mobile with Kristoff´s printer and looked through the drawers for suitable print paper. Ah, there it was. She reached for the pile of postcard sized photopaper, just to spot a little purple giftbox with a tiny fake sunflower on top, that lay neatly stored right behind the paper pile.

She was always told not to be nosy. Of course, she would not rummage within Kristoff´s belongings. She hastily pushed the drawer close and sat straight to commit herself on printing her pictures. The printer rattled and the photos ended up in the tray. No, she would not peep… But then, she had to put back the left-over photo papers. Okay, close your eyes, pull open the drawer and put back the pile. No. The pile must lay just the way you´ve found it. So then, pull open the drawer, concentrate on the paper pile in the front and then quickly shut that dam drawer!

The rest of the morning, Anna spent crafting a neat little frame for the special picture. She had pulled out a sheet of paper from her study paper and kept crafting and colouring little paper flowers and hearts along the hemline. Then, she glued the photo in the middle, and it was perfect. Around lunchtime she was done, and the lovely memory stuck to the refrigerator (Mickey and Minnie Mouse with Kristoff in the middle).

All the while she had been busy and distracted, concentrating dreamingly on her first contribution to add a little something to her new home. But now? She should go back over her books… What was in that little box?!

It was time for lunch and Kristoff and Sven were waiting. She´d better leave… That box…

*****

“Look, what we´ve got!” Kristoff beckoned Anna closer, when she had come down the stairs. She stepped closer to notice him looking at some piece of paper in his hand, shaking his head smiling. He showed her the content of the received post.

Anna gasped loudly and put a hand to her chest. “Oh my gosh, that´s so neat!” She grabbed at the photograph, that showed them both in costume. They were sitting on the sled and Kristoff had placed his arm around her shoulder, while Anna had put a hand on his knee. They were smiling at each other. It was a zoomed in pic and it was so loveable. A wonderful addition to the Mouse-family!

“Matthias has sent a little note with the picture,” Kristoff continued, “if we were ever looking for a job at Disneyland, we should just give him a call.” He laughed and placed a hand at her shoulder blades.

Anna withdraw her eyes from the wonderful picture and beamed up at him, chirping “good to know! If nothing works, I´d give it a try. Would be lovely to see Honeymaren again, anyway.”

Don´t look to much in his eyes, you will ask… Don´t ask what´s in that box…. Don´t!!!!

Luckily, Sven came in to give her a gentle hug and then they headed for a quick lunch break at the coffee shop around the corner.

Anna was determined to go over her lecture prep for the next day. She must concentrate and focus on her duty… If only she wasn´t so nosy… What if she just peeped a tiny little bit? No! She wouldn´t! For some reason, the little gift was in there. What if it was simply an empty box, waiting for a content? No. She wouldn´t peep… If it was meant to be for her in the first place… The surprise would be worth it! If…

*****

It was her second night in her new home and Anna felt content all over. She was about to get ready for bed and finished her evening routine in the bathroom. While brushing her teeth, she thought of the early evening. Kristoff had smiled at her craft work at the refrigerator and mentioned with a grin that her proof of good housekeeping was paying off already. He had earned himself a good playful punch to his upper arm for that. He hadn´t asked where she had got the photo paper from. Maybe he had been too tired from his work to think of the drawer. A thought hit her mind and she nearly dropped the toothbrush. What if he wouldn´t remember the giftbox? What if he had stored it in there ages ago and had forgotten about it? Okay, stop that brooding! And most of all – don´t say anything about it! You´re not nosy! Best you go to sleep right away!

When Anna came into the bedroom, Kristoff sat on the bed, looking at his mobile. He wore his boxer shorts as always and nothing else. He looked so dam good. Anna couldn´t go to sleep right away like that…

“Sven has texted just before,” Kristoff remarked glancing at her, “he invited us over to his place for tomorrow evening. His sister is coming and would love to see us again.”

“Ah, Susan, yes, that be lovely.” Anna exclaimed and shifted herself closer to Kristoff.

He put his mobile on the bedside table and offered her an embrace, which she eagerly responded by snuggling herself even closer.

“Are you alright so far?” Kristoff asked, while running a hand through her hair, and placing his lips to her forehead.

“Thank you yes. I think I will be fine with the final lectures coming up. I´m so glad to be here. It´s like a lucky twist of things, that I can learn without pressure and know I´m appreciated for who I am and not for what I achieve.”

Kristoff sighed and increased his embrace to confirm his appreciation. “I´m glad you´re comfy here. And I hope you can let go of what has been implicated on you. Maybe time will help. Hey, your family loves you, I´m sure. They just can´t get beyond their boundaries. That´s sad enough.”

Anna smiled into his chest and pressed a kiss to this broad ripcage. “Yes, thank you, I know. I have texted Elsa today that I´m fine and she´d replied I should contact her when I feel like it. I guess I will call her soon. After all, she always cared in her way.”

But for now, Anna didn´t feel like any more talking. There was another urge within her to show her affection and appreciation of the man that had been so loving to her all this time and who would sweep her off her feet in his ways! No matter, what was in that box…

So, she continued her tender work, shifting to straddle his lap, kissing his chest and neck all the while. By now Kristoff had placed his hands on her hips and was fiddling to pull up her nightshirt. Anna moved her hips and then freed herself completely from the gown.

They would run tender hands along their bodies, Anna lowered herself to press her lips to his. She circled her hips on his lap, favouring his hardness increasingly pushing up against her sensitive skin. Her hard nipples touched his chest and the soft groan from his throat sent an electrifying shiver down her abdomen. Kristoff embraced his girlfriend gently but firm and turned them both over to the side. Anna helped to pull off his pants and welcomed him eagerly and ready to unite.

And when they loved each other tenderly with Kristoff whispering “I love you” in her ear, Anna felt herself at home just so much more.

*****

Note: This fic is still dedicated to @justfrozenthings; sometimes we´re meant to concentrate on things... but for some reason we get distracted… Wait, where´s my mind gone…? 😊 And, what´s in that giftbox...🤪 => The next (and probably last) chapter should solve the unnerving curiousness 🤗

#Frozen #Kristanna #fanfiction #Modern AU #new home #what´s in that giftbox...

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pernatius · 3 years

Text

Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 1

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

At the center, behind the looming figure, a single ray of moonlight shines on the spilled dark, nearly blood-red paint that came out of its sideways bowl. It looks as if the paint is glowing, illuminating this poorly lit and now stuffy room with a red tint, giving the room a sinister vibe.

The figure before Syco has their right eye twitch. Pointy face gulps and bites their lip. One wide-eyed moment later and our captor bursts out laughing. The figures, the accomplices, circling us follow suit. To them, Syco is a comedian. To me, he’s a brick wall. Not a single funny bone in his body, yet they laugh as if he told the funniest joke ever. Saamuki blushes at this.

From nervousness to amusement to returning to square one, attentive with a tad bit of annoyance, Pointy Face’s transitions are awkward. Maybe it’s because they’re no longer self-assured. No longer does pride escape their lips. Discomfort, instead, drifts from their hand gestures as they speak. “I’ll also admit how downright brilliant you’ve been throughout this war. Though, you can’t run forever. At some point, you need to stop. We must catch our breaths before we dare to think of that next step. You already know this before taking that first step. However, we don't know everything. We can't plan for things we don't know. It's impossible. We trip on that crack we didn’t see, and we scrape our knee. It hurts. Badly.”

“We’ve known each other for years, Zeq, but merely knowing is different from friendship.” Pointy Face, or as Syco says is Zeq, raises an eyebrow. “Although, I wish I was wrong. I see I’m faced with more enemies rather than given allies.” That’s what’s been in those blue eyes of his. He’s regretful.

“And that surprises you? I can no longer trade. Supplies are low. My village is dying. Again, my people suffer,” Zeq lowers their voice with the drop of Syco’s ears, “This isn’t personal, Syco. It’s diplomatic. It’s about survival. The sooner this war ends, the sooner I can save my people.”

“How long until they get here?”

“Less than an hour.”

“Then, I have plenty of time to do this.” Out first comes a grunt, then out second comes Syco. The freed Tauvox has Zeq stumble backward and with their words. Those around us motion their hands in a way I’m familiar with. Transforming their fingers into blades, surprisingly sharp for leaves, they take a step forward. They’re halted from taking another when Syco encases Zeq’s neck with his thick fingers. Zeq’s hat falls. It rolls and goes in a little circular motion before stopping and pointing in my direction.

It’s here I notice how tall Zeq is, almost as tall as Syco, but somehow looks several feet smaller than the actual height difference between the two. Zeq is lanky and wilting, so Syco’s hand easily wraps around it and can easily snap it. He’s imposing to them, but not to me.

“You will let us all go, and in return, I’ll let your mayor go.”

“What are you doing? Let me go. Put me down. Don’t you see what I’m doing for you,” Zeq spoke up.

“All you’re doing is delaying my plans.”

“No, Syco. I’m saving you from what’s to come as well. You’ve gone farther than your predecessor, yes, but you will fail just like him. Your, my people’s, and trillions of other’s suffering can end here.”

That moment where our eyes met I thought he was going to do it. I thought he was going to end it all. To let Zeq go than to just squeeze Zeq’s throat until it ripped in half, cemented who Syco truly is. Time has truly lost its touch on him. It no longer means anything to him. He’ll take down those who are in his way. It also cemented their decision in attacking. A blade went through Syco’s chest. He elbowed them, causing the blade to slide out and the others now surrounding him to look at one another. Then, proceed. They slice into Syco’s skin, some of his furs break off from the cuts and scatter across their chests, and in turn, Syco stabs them with his horns. His horns go right through each of them, but all of them easily heal. I see veins stitch themselves back together and soon flesh as well. The same can’t be said about the lifeless, decapitated mayor.

I try breaking free from my troubles, but all it does is tighten the sap around me. I see why the others haven’t succeeded as Syco has. I’m starting to sweat. Saamuki would’ve landed herself to be boiled alive. As for Shiitakee, well, he’s Shiitakee.

The drooping mushroom says, “What I’d do to be lighting up a cigarette right now.”

Three simple strokes of his horn between their swings and the three of us are freed. Syco catches one of their blades between his hands and throws them into the others before turning to us and shouting, “What are you waiting for? Get to the ship!”

Walking across the bridge made me anxious. Running and trying to balance while the bridge sways left to right because of the fight happening behind me still gives me anxiety, but now it's nauseating. At least now it's too dark to spot the ground between the wood making up this rickety path, but it’s too dark to make out what’s what. The bushy branches above let some, not enough, moonlight in. My crown’s fire isn’t enough either. I’d thank Saamuki for glowing on this hectic night if I wasn’t busy running and trying not to trip.

Another obstacle stood in our way as Zeq’s aides don't know when to give up. They’re relentless. They don’t know when to fall. So, now we’re sandwiched between them and the scowled figure from earlier. I get out my blade, and Saamuki prepares to lunge, but it’s Shiittakee that challenges the figure who’s far larger than the three of us. Syco, if he wanted to, could crush Shiitakee just like he did with Zeq. This figure could crush Shiitakee and cause him to explode. I don’t want to see any more guts be sprayed out, so I take a step closer. I could hear Syco still deflecting, and his horns connecting with their blades as Shiitakee proves he’s more than just some whiny quitter. A yellowish gas sprays out of his cap, fuming all around us. The figure, Saamuki, and I cough. Its stench was sucked up by my nostrils and carried to my taste buds. I gag. It tasted like rotten eggs mixed with spoiled milk with a dash of a public toilet. When it finally escapes my senses, another bridge appears between us. The tree beneath us had magically, probably because of that rancid gas, had stretched one of its branches to the ground, puncturing through the ocean of darkness resting beneath our feet. What could’ve been our aggressor just watches as we escape to the makeshift bridge. We enter the darkness, and not a minute after, I hear Syco joining us. This bridge groans with his added weight as he continues to battle on with those several vengeful figures.

Saamuki sends a blast their way. I hear someone slip. They plummet, but I don’t hear them land. So, definitely not Syco. Another blast, but it takes a moment longer before another one of them falls into the blackness below. There’s no third attempt. She turns back around, and I catch an ominous glimpse of the ones left watching us and the now caught up Syco walk the rest of the way. They watch us emotionlessly with their blades remaining.

A wind glazed us once we set foot onto the ground. It's gentle, a feeling I haven’t felt in some time.

Something new happens. Saamuki moves her hands in a circular shape. Little bolts of lightning shot out between her fingers. She breathed out and threw her hands apart. A small, glowing blue orb now floats above us, lighting everything around us within what I guess is a twenty-foot radius. Something scampers away, and Syco moves away from my awe, taking the lead.

I walk by his side the rest of the way to the spaceship. I should feel equal to him now, but there’s still plenty of distance between us before that ever could happen. I feel like he noticed it too, or maybe I’m just thinking about it too much. It’s just strange that he asked me to join him in his meeting with General Knox, interrupting Saamuki and his second-in-command. Saamuki and I look at each other, as his second-in-command continues what he was saying before being cut off by his commander. The two of us know I can’t decline. General Knox has our friends wrapped around his thumb. The last I heard from Syco is that they were in Quadrant Forty. It’s been too long since then. Who knows which quadrant they’re in? After all, finding and having them regain control are the main reasons we’ve let ourselves be commanded by the sweaty Tauvox arguing with the non-sweaty Tauvox. Any information helps. Whatever is going to be said during the meeting definitely is.

I nod. He replies with, “Great. Follow me. The meeting is going to start soon.”

Again, I walk by his side. I steal a glance from Saamuki until she turns to look at the pondering Shiitakee. The second-in-command stalks off, cutting across the hallway and ending my glance at Saamuki.

This room is new. Row by row across the walls, lights turn on. The room is large but not grand. Compared to the other rooms in the ship, even to the rented room shared between Saamuki and me, it’s small. On either side of the room sat two paintings. One of a man I know, Syco’s predecessor, and the other of a Tauvox with white fur. A scar stretches from their right eyebrow to the left side of their jawline. They’re just a picture, but I can sense they’re as much of a brute as The Commander, the terrifying presence instead of that corpse down below.

“Only one other, besides us, has entered this room. You know of him quite well.” I follow the Tauvox to the center of the room. Resting there is a platform with etchings of alien writing. It’s similar to Sakhra’s quilt. Actually, I think it’s the same. It’s just upside down.

I don’t have to look where he’s looking at it. Looking at that painting as long as I did was enough. So, I instead look at him. His expression is the same one he showed back in Zeq’s village.

“Why did you ask me to join you?”

“Because I trust you.” Interrupting him is the platform before us blinking. “Stay out of his sight. Commander Knox does not know you’re here.”

I move away as far as I can as the symbols on the platform float up and spin around Syco. Appearing in front of him is a hologram of that monkey-like commander. Would he and his people be considered cousins to humans? Human’s next evolution? Do they still count as humans? Besides the fur and metal parts, they still look human. I wonder what the Virmuses went through to look like that in the near millennia they split up from humanity.

“Ah, Commander Knox you were able to make it today.”

“Quadrant Forty has been tedious, Commander Syco.”

“Oh?”

“This is not an admittance to the limitations of my intelligence.”

“I would hope not.”

“As of the last report, half an hour ago, we have taken control of half of the quadrant.”

“And what of the three?”

“Same as the last time. Nothing new. Although, they did help me in a tight squeeze this morning.” I imagine Syco to have raised an eyebrow because the other commander continued with, “Again, not me admitting my limitations.”

“Great. Casualties?”

A laugh. “None from my side, but hundreds from the enemy.”

A flinch. The very hand Syco used to kill Zeq flinched. It’s a subtle movement. Commander Knox doesn’t notice, but I do. From that seemingly small action, I now know why he asked me to be here.

#219 #lost in space #my wrting #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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sonicringbond · 3 years

Text

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 48

Now, unlike last time I can chat a little =D

What is there to say though after Sonic was yeeted last time. Well, in today’s scene everyone will be having their first battle against one the Sword Knights. If you recall, they dealt with Yoluku in the past, whatever that really means XD How many of them there were though and how powerful hasn’t been brought up yet, but in today’s scene you should get your first real taste. So please, join the battle in...

“SONIC!!”

Rosy and Tails shouted out in unison as Sonic careened through the upside-down castle town. Tails was more flustered by it than Rosy, simply due to having more experience in the town.

“Oh no! If Sonic ends up somewhere I haven’t studied the gravitational fields and warps–!”

“Ho!” Claymore shouted and distracted Tails as he deftly bounced from one point to another in rhythm to some unheard beat. The sight of the three-meter tall autogolem moving so gracefully was enough to get Tails to lower his hands from his head. Especially as Claymore addressed him.

“You are free to retrieve the Ring Mage child,” Claymore began before lowering his eyes down to Rosy who he now stood before. Her cheeks were puffed up and red with obvious rage, but Claymore was unconcerned as he continued. “I advise you keep him away, however. Those foolish enough to play with the work of Yoluku are the sworn enemies of the Knights of the Sword. But should the medium accompany us willingly this day, I will gladly overlook his existence. Ho!”

“No way!” Rosy shouted up at Claymore as she thrusts her fists down and her hips back. “You came and attacked my friend’s airship, and then you attacked Sonic and called him your enemy!”

“You must understand Lady Medium–”

“I don’t have to understand anything!” Rosy shouted and interrupted Claymore. “You came in here picking a fight instead of talking, and then you threatened my friends and called them your enemies! Then right now I’m your enemy too because I’m Sonic’s girlfriend!”

“I believe that is my cue,” Mighty announced and lured Claymore to look over his shoulder back at the armadillo. The armadillo who had pulled free a huge chunk of a building and held it easily above his head. “Just so you know, I’m not fond of violence. But to protect my friends… Well, I won’t hold back if I have to.”

“Ho! Your uncertainty belies your kind nature young man,” Claymore laughed as he turned to fully face Mighty. “But I have no fear of a man who wields the earth as his weapon. Be-HO-ld!”

With a flash of purple light, the buildings around Claymore were blown apart and Rosy was flung away from them. She was fortunate to already be running as well, lest the sudden gravitational well that Claymore became the center of would have pulled her right in. As it was, Mighty lost his grip on the chunk of building as it was pulled apart and had to take hold of where he stood to keep his footing.

“This isn’t good,” Mighty remarked as the building began to crumble underfoot. Looking up he saw Rosy looking back as Tails fought a losing battle in the air to get away. Straining a smile, Mighty looked at Rosy and shouted. “Run, little Rosy! We’ll be alright, somehow!”

~I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed and fought. But Mighty’s face… I think that autogolem is stronger than him. But it’s not like they weren’t trying. As soon as Claymore realized I wasn’t in reach of his mean ability, he turned to reach for me with a massive purple mouth of light and shadows that sprouted from his arm. Draw took that moment though and fired at him with an explosive arrow. I don’t know if it hurt him because when him and Tails told me to run. Well… I ran!

~But I’m not running without a plan. I just have to find Sonic, and then we can go back and figure out how to beat this mean old knight. I hope Gill and Blister are okay too.

~Snap out of it Rosy! First, I have to find Sonic. I know they’ll all be okay. I just have to help Sonic first and then I know we can beat this mean old knight!~

“Gyaa~!” Rosy screamed as she ran around a spiraling bridge and a group of autogolems that resembled knightly helmets on spider leg fashioned armor chased her. “Why are there autogolems away from the ship too!”

The answer to Rosy’s question rested in the rumors about herself that she failed to notice. Despite her best efforts to keep a low profile on her speed and use of Rings, she had grown lax in her efforts after she had met up with and started traveling again with Sonic. Claymore was also being prepared for the potential appearance of Saber. Naturally, Rosy was not privy to any of that knowledge. All she knew was that she was being chased by autogolems that could best be called Squire Legs.

“Ooh~! I don’t like having to fight! I’m not good enough at it like Sonic yet!”

Rosy complained, but she was not ill prepared to fight the Squire Legs as they converged on her in the impossible castle town.

Skidding to a stop, Rosy performed a backflip and landed on the Squire Legs closest to her. It turned its head full around to look at her with glowing golden eyes under its black armor and Rosy stuck her tongue out at it. She meant to provoke it further, however…

“Yech! That’s disgusting, even if you are an autogolem!”

Grossed out, Rosy propped herself up on her hands and stuck her legs out to the sides in a full split. Then she snapped them down onto the ground and caused herself to lift the Squire Legs fully off the ground.

As the autogolem had been chasing her, it had too much momentum and Rosy ended up arching over backwards and body slamming it into the next one that was coming up behind her. The impact and entire motion left Rosy dizzy, and she remained arched there until the rest of the ones behind her crashed into the first two and was sent tumbling forward by the impact.

“Woah!”

With a cry, Rosy curled into a ball and bounced off the ground before uncurling to right herself. The Squire Legs that had attempted to cut her off from ahead were well ahead of her now, having completely overshot her.

“Bye-bye~♥”

With a wave and a wink, Rosy took off in her continued pursuit of Sonic. Naturally, though she would have easily surprised Tails in the awkward castle town for being able to pull it off, Rosy found Sonic. Whether she would credit her success to them being destined lovers or her intuition was left unsaid this time, instead she simply tackled Sonic with a relieved hug.

“Sonic! You’re okay!”

“Barely,” Sonic remarked with a serious look.

“What happened?” Rosy asked, looking up from where she buried her face in Sonic’s chest. “Is that autogolem really so scary?”

“I wouldn’t call that bucket face scary, but he’s definitely strong. And I don’t know how he grabbed me like that.”

“He started eating the whole town when I ran,” Rosy informed Sonic, though she looked down ashamed. “I just wish I could have helped more than by running to find you.”

“You did good, kid,” Sonic offered Rosy a rare compliment and rustled her bangs. Even upset as she was, she loved how comforting that action always was from Sonic and her tail began to wag as she let herself be coddled. Gentle as Sonic was being though, there was a tenseness in his body, and it was obvious he was enraged.

“Sonic…,” Rosy mumbled into his chest hoping to calm him down.

And then Sonic sneezed.

“SO~NI~C!” Rosy wailed. “That’s gross! Ew~! I can feel it all over my spines and back. EWWW~~~~~!!!!!”

“Heh,” Sonic snickered and rubbed his nose. He knew they were in trouble though. Turning his head to look to the side while Rosy shuddered and trembled in complete disgust, he saw Claymore standing on the top of an upside-down roof. Or perhaps Sonic was the upside-down one where he stood on a sideways bridge. With a sea of endless fog below the land bridge it was impossible to tell. It also didn’t matter with Claymore before him.

The silence was also enough to finally get Rosy to look up and spot the knight. The knight who was missing the spire-like peak of his helmet as it served as the grip of the claymore he had drawn out of his body and held in one hand. The sight of such read as a threat to Rosy and she puffed up her cheeks as her spines stiffened to the point where they could pierce steel even without her performing a Spin Attack. “You–You big meanie! Just go away!”

“I cannot do that Lady Medium,” Claymore assured Rosy as he pointed at her and the return of the Gear Star Ring in place of her left iris. “You are connected to Yoluku, and it is imperative that I take you into my custody.”

“And I already told you… NO WAY!”

“You heard the lady, pal,” Sonic smirked.

“Ho! You would be so brazen to refuse even when your friends are now my prisoners.”

“Don’t,” Sonic warned Rosy as she started to finally release him from her embrace. To her surprise he actually took her hand, lacing their fingers together. Whether there was romantic intent or not was lost on Rosy as the motion alone completely enthralled her and kept her right where Sonic needed her.

“I bet they are, and after all the trouble I’ve been going through to get everyone back together so we can go home. In case you haven’t heard Sir Bucketface, my friends and I aren’t from around here. We’ve even been trying to avoid causing any trouble, but now you’ve crossed a line I can’t forgive.”

“Sonic…?” Rosy questioned as she looked up at Sonic and saw the anger on his face, the severity of his expression.

“Ho! A challenge,” Claymore laughed.

“That’s right,” Sonic assured him. “You knightly types like your duels, so consider it entertainment for your fancy party. ‘Cause I’m going to be crashing it and taking back my friends and leaving you exposed as the fairy you are inside that oversized tin can.”

~I wanted to ask Sonic what he meant when he called Claymore a fairy, but before I knew it, he opened a Ring Gate, and we were flung far from the weird little castle town. And flung far from all our friends too. But Sonic assured me they would be fine. So, I believe him.

~And we got early proof of it too!

~Blister’s Ring Radio aboard her ship was working like it should, and it turns out while the others were fighting Gill slipped her onboard. Her autogolems were able to drive off the ones that came with Claymore and they got away ready to help us rescue Tails, Mighty, Draw, and Mote. Of course, Blister called Gill a coward, but he knew Sonic could make a Ring Gate and bet on Sonic and me getting out by one. Tee-hee! Gill really is special! Now if only he could give up stealing Rings.

~But I’ll forgive Gill this time. He saved Blister and her ship and is ready to help us rescue everyone. Hee-hee! I’m looking forward to crashing a big party with Sonic~♥~

Scene 48 · CLEARED Reunion Knight, End

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And for a change, Sonic chose to make a strategic retreat. Do you think he’s being wise choosing to fight on a more stable environment, or do you think this decision will come back to bite Sonic in the rear? Well, we’ll find out next time, and I hope you’ll join me! Thank you!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Howling at the Skies Above – Tsutomu Narita – Granblue Fantasy Battle Music Tracks

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

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brightwanderer · 5 years

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GO AU#6

Start of the the Notice Me Archangel-Senpaiiii AU, because I have zero self-control and have been itching to post some of this for ages and like two people said they wanted to see it so I MUST GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT right?

It was getting dark in the Garden, and Aziraphale was on his way to light the humans' campfire for them. He was guiltily aware that it wasn't the intended use of his flaming sword, but Eve had been fascinated by the flames since Aziraphale first spoke to her. She'd also recently figured out that the potato - a tuber no-one, including possibly its creator, had understood the appeal of - became a lot more appetising if it was left under hot coals for a while before consumption. Aziraphale was both delighted by her ingenuity and a big fan of the resulting fluffy innards, so a campfire had become a nightly ritual.

Except that as he approached, he saw a flicker of flame through the trees ahead. Aziraphale slowed to a halt, startled and concerned. Had they worked out how to start a fire for themselves? Was that a bad thing? Would he be in trouble if anyone found out?

(And did they not need him to visit anymore, then? He didn't want to be a bother...)

Then it occurred to him that there was another option, one that sent a shiver down his spine. He was, after all, guarding the Eastern Gate for a reason. The Adversary was bound to show up at some point, or send one of his agents to meddle with the humans. Aziraphale couldn't sense any particular evil intent, but then, he hardly knew what he was looking for. He swallowed hard, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and hurried forward through the trees.

Adam and Eve were sitting in their usual places by the fire, and a stranger was sitting with them. He was laughing as Aziraphale approached, his hair gleaming red in the firelight, his simple, fine linen robe as black as his elegant wings, and his eyes—

Aziraphale almost tripped and fell flat on his face. Not a stranger after all, no, he'd know those eyes anywhere, even in this unassuming corporation with its short-cropped hair and lanky limbs and sideways smile and too-sharp face.

The face was the same, really, it was just that it had been toned down, made as human as possible, stripped of its glory and its grace - except for the eyes, which were as bright and as fierce and as beautiful as they'd been every time Aziraphale had dared to steal a glance at them.

They had also widened at his approach, and there was something like dismay in them, and something like a plea.

"Oh, hi there," said the not-stranger, jumping to his feet and rubbing his hands nervously down the sides of his robe. "So you're the angel of the Eastern Gate I've been hearing so much about. Nice to meet you, I'm Crowley."

Aziraphale stared at him, unable to form words even if he wanted to. There was a kind of desperation in the greeting, an urgency behind the too-casual smile.

Aziraphale opened his mouth, found no words there, hesitated. The golden eyes were fixed on him, and yes, they were definitely pleading, definitely asking him to go along with it. Being the focus of attention like that turned Aziraphale's world upside-down and rendered him quite helpless to do anything other than oblige.

"Er," Aziraphale said, and then, "Oh. I. Um. Nice to meet you... Crowley?"

Crowley's shoulders relaxed and gratitude flooded his face for an instant before he gestured invitingly towards the fire.

"Are you joining us? I've just been learning about what happens when you boil water and then put a certain kind of leaf in it."

"Adam worked that out," Eve put in proudly. She didn't seem to have noticed anything odd about their exchange. "We're calling it tea."

"Oh no, no, I couldn't possibly," Aziraphale said quickly, blushing and taking a step backwards, looking anywhere but at Crowley. "I'm— guard duty, you know, better get back to it, ever-vigilant and all that..."

He prayed - or, well, not exactly prayed because he didn't really think God would approve, but certainly hoped fervently - that Eve wouldn't mention how many evenings he'd spent with them already. Not in front of—

"Relax, I'd know if there was a demon anywhere near the Garden," Crowley insisted with an enviable self-assurance. "Stay and try the stewed leaves."

Aziraphale didn't know if that was an order or a request, didn't know what on Earth was going on here, but he dared not disobey, regardless. He edged tentatively to take a seat on one of the rocks Adam had placed around the fire to use as seats, sitting very straight and stiff, hands tightly clasped in his lap. Crowley hesitated for a moment before taking his own seat; out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale thought he caught an almost guilty look on his face before it was smoothed away.

"So," Crowley said, grinning at Eve. "Tea?"

Aziraphale spoke very little for the rest of the evening, responding only when spoken to and wincing every time Adam or Eve casually mentioned some little interaction he'd had with them. It was all too obvious now that he shouldn't have indulged himself in so many distractions. Eve even started to talk about how much he loved the Garden's fruit, but fortunately for Aziraphale's steadily reddening cheeks, Crowley accidentally kicked the fire just then, and they were all distracted by the sparks and the smoke that set them coughing.

Crowley was full of questions, eager and curious, watching the humans with fascination in his expressive face, attentive and interested in everything they had to say. With his black wings half-hidden in the darkness behind him, he almost looked human himself, apart from his eyes. His eyes, which Aziraphale would have known anywhere. His eyes, which had so captivated Aziraphale since before the world was made—

Aziraphale bit his lip and focused fiercely on the crude cup in his hands. The tea was warm and had a certain pleasant fragrance, though it was rather bitter on his tongue. It needed work, but he was still so impressed by the humans' ingenuity in even trying it in the first place. He was sure they'd improve it in no time.

He realised Crowley was looking at him while Adam talked about doing something clever with woven grass, looking at him with a singularity of focus that Aziraphale had dreamed of in the past, but that now left him hopelessly confused and desperately nervous. He didn't understand why Crowley was here, why he'd made Aziraphale stay, why he kept looking over like he was trying to read Aziraphale's face.

It had to be a test, Aziraphale thought miserably, and it was surely one he'd already failed. Too much time fraternising with the humans, too much indulgence in un-angelic behaviour. The world had hardly begun, the Garden had hardly had a chance to bloom, and Aziraphale had already made a mess of his very first job. He'd no doubt be sent back to Heaven at once, probably put on paperwork duty while all the interesting things happened down here.

He couldn't think of any other reason an Archangel would come to check on him in person. He just didn't understand why Crowley had been so desperate to stop Aziraphale from greeting him as Raphael.

#good omens #my fic #fanfic #crowley is raphael #apparently #angel au #aziraphale has a crush the size of alpha centauri

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dapper-ships-herself · 4 years

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As much as I love Yosano and want my s/is to love her too, I think Jekyll! Gillian would be terrified of her at first. Given her background of being experimented on by another sadistic doctor with a healing ability, it’s take her a while to get used to Yosano. Which, from a shipping standpoint, offers some good scenarios of angst of her having to work through this trauma that wrestles with her growing fondness, y’know. Anyway, this particular piece isn’t really shippy, I wanted to write out a scene of what happened the first time Jekyll! Gillian found herself injured shortly after joining the detective agency, which as a side note is around a year before the main story starts. Also, this is a quick lil thing so I haven’t done much proof reading so excuse any typos please.

---------

She winced, squinting and blinking at the light hanging above her. She wasn’t sure where she was or what had happened exactly, her thoughts were still trying to wake up. She tried to move her hand to rub at her eye, but went still when she realized cold metal was keeping it in place.

Yosano looked over her shoulder at the slight noise. “Ah~ You’re awake now, hm? Poor timing for yourself, seeing as I’m about to get started, but more fun for me. Let’s see here…” she ran her fingers along her tools, gloves sliding over the cool metal. “I think I’m going to use… this one~” Se picked up a meat cleaver and flipped it in the air, catching it smoothly. “You got yourself a mighty fine injury out there, let me treat you.” She waltzed over to where Gillian lay on her table, holding the cleaver above her head with a wicked smile.

Gillian wasn’t seeing Yosano, though. No, looming over her in that moment was a different doctor, one from many years ago. The scalpel poised in her grip glinted bright in the overhanging light, kept always so pristine, not yet covered in crimson again. The doctor’s smile was that of an overeager cat, one that couldn’t wait to toy with it’s prey. The chains held her limbs tightly, she could hear them rattle with each fearful tremble of her small body. She couldn’t even turn her head to look away, for that too was chained to her table.

Yosano’s cleaver arced through the air, and the scalpel neared. Laughter echoed throughout time and memory, Gillian’s pupils growing small in her panic, frozen still in terror. She opened her mouth to scream.

“HYDE!”

That day, most everyone at the Armed Detective Agency was out working on one thing or another, meaning it was mostly empty save for a handful of office workers.

“Dazai! We’re already a full minute behind schedule! Stop lazing around this instant!”

And two men who also should have already been on a job by then.

“Hhhmmm, do I have to, though? I’m sure you can handle this on your own.” Dazai lounged sideways in his chair, legs propped up on his desk. He lay beck over the arm rest so he was looking up at Kunikida from upside down.

“While you have no idea how much I wish I could leave you here and not have to deal with your antics today, need I remind you that we work in teams. Which means, unfortunately, I have to drag your sorry ass along with me. Now, get up so we-“

Both men’s heads snapped up at the sound of metal tearing in another room, followed by a crash and a short exclamation of pain. That last noise they recognized as coming from doctor Yosano. They glanced at each other, expressions serious; they’d heard plenty of pained screaming from Yosano’s operation room, but never anything from the doctor herself.

Yosano stumbled backwards, clutching her arm, four long gashes running from her shoulder to her elbow. “What the hell?!”

Behind her, the door slammed open; Kunikda still had one hand splayed across the door, the other holding a torn out piece of paper ready to be transformed at a moment’s notice, Dazai stood right behind him, eyes instantly taking in the room.

“What’s happening?” Kunikida demanded, his voice echoing through the room.

Yosano gave no response, instead keeping her attention on the girl standing on her table.

It wasn’t exactly the same girl she’d had strapped down, that was immediately clear. Her hair hung loose around her head, and where once it’s color had been mostly a pale green with a small section of dark, the two colors had swapped places. Her skin was now a grey green, her fingers replaced by long, dark talons, and her eyes were pure, inky, black with red swirling pupils. Those eyes bored into the doctor, wild and crazed to the point she wondered if they were actually looking at her.

“… Hyde. Is this what her full take over looks like?” Kunikida said, slowly stepping into the room, Dazai right behind him. She wasn’t paying attention to either of them though.

“I knew it; I knew it was all the same. I told that naïve little fool that she couldn’t trust anybody; that the only reason you could possibly want someone like her would be to perform more experiments on us.”

“Experiments?” Dazai muttered. His gaze wandered down, and settled on her exposed abdomen, her blouse having been unbuttoned and left open by Yosano earlier to examine her wound. There, standing out amongst her skin, was a collection of neat scars. The main one’s formed a Y shape, with smaller, slightly less prominent scars branching out in some places. It looked like the Y scar had been reopened many, many times.

“Well no more.” Hyde continued. Her voice shook in unhinged, barely controlled rage. One taloned hand came up to grab at her hair, and her razor sharp smile looked about to crack her face in half. “This time, I’m going to be the one to dissect you!” She coiled her body, and in a flash sprang forward, the table skittering backwards from the force. Claws out stretched, she aimed directly at the doctor.

She would have ripped the woman’s face to ribbons, torn her open as many times as it took to finally be rid of her, had Dazai not smoothly stepped directly into her path. His hands shot up to snatch both her wrists, and from the point of contact his ability emitted a bright glow, illuminating the dim room. The light color of her hair bloomed across the surface while the dark twisted and shrank, caged once again. Her red eyes shifted back to a bright blue, the black draining away. Gillian fell to the floor with a thump, held up only by Dazai’s grip still on her wrists.

From her closed eyes, a tear squeezed out, rolling down her cheek. “Please, no…”

The other three were silent, starring down at the unconscious girl at their feet. Slowly, Dazai released his grip, lowering her to lie on the floor.

“What the hell was that all about?” Kunikida asked.

Yosano loosed a breath, bringing her uninjured arm up to run a hand through her hair. “I have no idea. I was about to get started on healing her, when she screamed in panic for Hyde. Barely took any effort for her to tear out of the restraints after that, and I couldn’t jump back fast enough to avoid getting scratched. Maybe she thought she had been captured earlier? This was her first time having me work on her. I figured the scared look was from one of you guys telling her about my treatments. Hm.” She crouched down next to Gillian, pulling her blouse aside to run a hand over the skin of her abdomen, where previously an open wound had marred the area was now smooth skin. “Either way, looks like turning into Hyde completely healed her, so there’s no need for me to treat her today. One of you carry her to a bed, let her rest for a bit.”

“I can keep an eye on her, in case she panics and turns into Hyde again.” Dazai said, bending down to hoist Gillian into his arms.

Kunikida scoffed “You’re only trying to get out of working again. Still,” he regarded Gillian “do you think that’s a concern?”

Yosano shrugged “Can’t say for sure when I’m not sure what caused it in the first place, but I think, given her talk of “experiments” that she was triggered by the setting of the operating room, if she wakes up somewhere else, I think she’ll be fine.”

Dazai and Kunikida nodded in agreement.

In fitful dreams, Gillian saw images of the past. Of chains and red, concrete walls. Of pristine tools and syringes of unnamable liquids. Of sinister laughter and cruel, excited smiles. Of a small ball of light, always hovering at her side.

#self insert #self insert character #self ship community #dapper writes #dapper inserts #dapper inserts: jekyll

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whumpiary · 5 years

Text

continued from here, companion piece to this and this

All Josiah wants when he hears the knock at the door is Mal’s reassuring smile, an easy hug, the gentle squeeze of his arm that tells him everything is going to be fine. Besides the need for medical expertise, it’s the reason Josiah had called him. Apparently though, when Josiah had called, asked quietly and desperately for Mal’s help with a drugged-out friend, he’d forgotten the three magic words: don’t tell Lou.

He must have, because that’s more or less the only explanation for the 5 feet of leather-clad fury awaiting him when he answers the door.

Lou is easy and laid back most of the time. Quick to joke, quicker to laugh. But for nearly two years now, even the mention of Cass was enough to drain her of humour in a second. And now he’s here. And Josiah had been keeping it from her. Leather-clad fury was probably an understatement.

“Where is he?”

She’s already trying to push through the door as she speaks. Josiah barely blocks her step with a foot.

“Hi Lou, I’m good, how are you?”

Mal meets his eyes over Lou’s shoulder, raises his finger with an apologetic salute.

“Back room?” he asks.

“My bedroom,” Josiah says, shifting barely enough to let the nurse slide past “Thanks, Mal.”

Mal gives Josiah’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he passes, and the comfort it floods him with is nearly embarrassing. He barely has time to block the doorway again as Lou makes another move to pass.

“You’re not coming in.”

“Like hell I’m not,” she spits, teeth bared between purple lipstick “I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m not doing this, Lou, I’m tired. You can come in, calm down, and have a cup of tea or you can leave.”

Lou looks like she might hit him, shifting from foot to foot like a boxer. She opens her mouth to say something, closes it again, before spinning around to let her rage out on a nearby pot-plant.

“Kick my fern and die,” he warns. She stamps her foot down with a grunt, makes a sound like she’s considering screaming out the excess aggression but doesn’t want to worry the neighbours. Josiah waits.

Lou leans her back against the balcony railing and seems to swallow down a pintful of violence before screwing her eyes shut, running her hands over her shaved head and looking at the sky as she takes deep breaths. They’re so specific and measured, Josiah can count them out.

In for six, hold for four, out for six. In for six, hold for four, out for six.

And Josiah waits.

The wind curls around the house and eventually, Lou open her eyes again, fuse longer but clearly still smouldering. Her are arms crossed in a way that suggests they’d be strangling something if she didn’t have them so carefully folded.

“You better have chamomile.”

Josiah steps aside and Lou pushes past maybe a little too roughly but calmly enough. Josiah takes a deep breath before stepping after her, thanking anyone who’s listening that he’d had time to tidy up the living room before Lou could have that to get angry at as well. But by the time Josiah’s followed her, Lou has bypassed living room and headed straight into the upturned kitchen. Of course.

She looks around pointedly before sitting herself at the stool by the bench, holding Josiah’s gaze as she does. “We can have the tea in here, right?”

He clenches his jaw. He knows what she’s doing. She’s waiting for him to tell her that the mess in here is making him uncomfortable and that she should move to the couch. To tell her that she’s sitting too close right now for him to turn his back to her. To tell her that he can’t handle this, that he should have called her sooner, that he’s about to go backwards. But he doesn’t tell her any of that. Because he’s fine. Because he is handling this.

“No problem,” he says, forcing a smile. Only a little bit of disdain sneaks through “Loose leaf or bag?”

“Loose. Make a pot, Mal will have some too”

She leans forward on her arms and begins tapping her finger nails on the bench with a tatatatat, tatatatat. Another test. Tatatatat.

Josiah leans against the bench for a moment, taking a deep breath before straightening up again and flicking the kettle on. Lou’s a bitch when she wants to be.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, by the way,” Lou says, picking up a rogue fork with one hand while the other tatatatats “Really gives the place that ransacked Airbnb feel I know you love”

Josiah scoops chamomile into the strainer and takes a deep breath. Tatatatat.

“Honey?” he asks, fetching a spoon.

Tatatatat.

“I would, but by the looks, you’d have to scrape it off the tiles”

Tatatatat. Tatatatat. Tatatatat.

“Calming down was part of the arrangement,” he says, reminding himself as much as Lou.

“I am calm,” she says, shrugging. The steel in her eyes only betrays her a little “I’m not going to just not talk about this, Jos.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Josiah shrugs, turning his back. He doesn’t look at her as he fetches mugs “Cass showed up, he looked sick, I called Mal, end of.”

Lou nods slowly, tatatatat, tatatatat, “And then you decided to turn your own house upside down for fun, did you?”

Josiah slams the cupboard draw shut harder than it needs, wheeling around to face her, and catching her hand flat against the bench to stop the sound. He manages to keep his tone relatively even, despite the anger bubbling hot in his chest.

“I’ve had a long fucking day, Lou, are you going to stop being an asshole or are you going to leave?”

“Depends. Are you gonna tell me what actually happened here, or am I gonna go ask Ace myself?”

“I told you what happened, you just don’t like the story.”

“What I don’t like is being lied to.”

Josiah grunts and pushes away from her. He leans back against the stove, resisting the urge to press his hand to his head, which is starting to pound again, to the back of his neck which is starting to itch. He closes his eyes. Weighs his options.

If Lou finds out Cass has been here the better part of a week, Josiah’s never gonna hear the goddamn end of it. There’ll be yelling and you should have called me and your safety needs to be a priority and she’ll be so disappointed in him. Not that the last part matters, he reminds himself, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Not that it matters, it’ll just be annoying.

“He came yesterday,” he mutters, trying his very best to look resigned and wrung through. If lies look beaten out of you, they seem honest. Then partial truth to sell it. “I just… left to get some milk. And by the time I came back, he’d freaked out. Turned the house sideways. Kept saying I’d drugged him.”

“Had you?”

The glare he fixes her with is violent enough that, for maybe only the second time since he’s known her, Josiah watches Lou shrink in instant regret.

“Sorry,” she says. She means it.

It’s quiet for a moment as the tea brews. Josiah swirls the pot a little, hoping to make the leaves steep faster. He knows it doesn’t do much, but it helps to have something to do with his hands.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not… It’s not…” Lou stumbles for words, spinning the fork idly. It really helps to have something to do with your hands. “Cass just… scares me. He really scares me. Especially around you.”

The comment hits Josiah like a bullet to the chest, and he sucks in a breath trying to shove down the flare of anger that hits him. Despite popular opinion, he’s not a helpless, naive moron being led astray by pretty people with ill intentions. He doesn’t need her fear. He doesn’t want her pity.

“I’m not some fucking waif, Lou,” he grinds out. He pours the tea.

“Come on Jos, you know that’s not what I meant,” she says and that hard line is back in her voice “What if he’s working with Tucker again? Or someone else?”

Josiah doesn’t answer. He’s thought of this. Of course he’s fucking thought of this, she needs to leave it.

“If he is, I’ll handle it.”

“Yeah? How did that go last time?”

He clenches his hands into fists. He doesn’t need reminders about last time. He has enough reminders about last time. He feels his heart in his throat.

“Cass is a time bomb,” Lou says, and her voice is soft and pained. Gentle in a way she isn’t often “When there’s a time bomb in your house you call in the bomb squad, you don’t wait for it to blow up in your face.”

“I called Mal.”

“You should have called me.”

“Calling you wouldn’t have been calling in the bomb squad it would’ve been pulling the pin on a grenade.”

There’s a strike of wounding in her face at that, but understanding too. She knows he’s right.

“What happens when he names you, Jos?” she whispers, and for a second Josiah swears there’s a shake in her voice. “Are you gonna handle that too or do I just have to be okay with losing you again?”

Josiah sags and reaches for her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Old signals. This is why she wasn’t meant to know Cass was back. This is why she shouldn’t be here.

“It wasn’t like that this time, Lou,” he says “He didn’t-”

But Lou pulls her hand away, like he’s burnt her. Any gentleness is gone from her face, replaced with shock and hard steel.

“I’m sorry… what wasn’t like that this time?” her voice is sharp, loud, probably audible from the other room. Her heart is beating so hard that Josiah can see it in the pulse of the necklace she’s wearing. She laughs and it’s bitter and cold and disbelieving. He sucks in a breath, like bracing for a hit.

“He’s already fucking named you, hasn’t he?” she says. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t need to. The stool crashes to the ground as she stands “Oh, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Lou’s already moving before she even finishes speaking, making a bee-line for the bedroom. She’s moving fast enough that despite the pace difference between them, she’s already made it to the hallway by the time Josiah can cut her off. He slams a hand to the wall, blocking the narrow path.

“Move,” she growls. He stays still, shakes his head, knows she won’t risk pushing past him.

"Not even twenty four hours and he’s in your head again,” her voice is a snarl, vicious and low “Is that why you’re so calm? Is that why you’re suddenly fine with that piece of shit in your bed?”

She doesn’t mean it to be cruel or maybe she does, but either way Josiah feels the shame of it settling in his gut. It wasn’t like that - it isn’t like that. It's… different and he’s different and he is in control. He chose it this time. He chose to bring Cass in, to help him. It was his decision.

“It’s not like that-”

"You’re always defending him. No matter what he does to you, no matter how he hurts you, you’re always defending him.”

“He hasn’t done-”

“This is why you didn’t call, isn’t it?” and she’s not even listening. She doesn’t even care, she’s just barreling on no matter what he says “He made you lie, he made you keep it from me.”

“No, Lou, I chose to keep it from you. I chose to lie. I chose to call Mal because I didn’t want to deal with this- I didn’t want to deal with you, alright?!”

He doesn’t hear the door opening, doesn’t hear Cass’ furious rambling as he pushes through to the hallway. But he sees Lou looking over his shoulder, and sees her face crumpling, hears the breathless, shocked “Cass” that escapes her lips. Then he hears Mal.

“I take it you’ve met my wife?”

Then he sees Cass’ eyes rolling backwards. He only has just enough time to catch him as he faints.

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