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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

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Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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retropopcult · 9 months

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soda bottle caps produced between 1930s to 1960s

#vintage #pop bottles #ginger ale #lime rickey #Coke #soft drink #carbonated beverages #root beer #pink grapefruit #flavors #retro #cream soda #banana #grape Crush #Dad's #old fashioned #Coca Cola

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andr0nap-wf · 3 months

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todays delusions :)

#delete later probably #idk just had to get the rough idea out of my mind #will clean it up later and design something for al too #listen the chances of loid accompanying albrecht to an orokin banquette as a +1 are close to none but i can dream #also the medallion collar is based on that necraloid sentinel tail flavor text #what the fuck did DE mean by that

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arbiterlexultionis · 7 months

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Poltergeist

So, Danny, who’s blood is composed of mostly caffeine because the Box Ghost just WON’T FUCKING STOP attacking on the middle of the night, God Dammit this is the SEVENTH Time tonight how the Crap Baskets do you keep escaping the Thermos!! So, when he wakes up one morning needing both caffeine and ectoplasm in his sleep deprived state he just mixes a 4 pack of monster and beaker of ectoplasm in a jug and starts chugging to try and get it down before the taste hits and then stops. Takes a sip. Takes another. And realizes that it actually taste way better then either do individually.

So he starts mixing them up regularly, and eventually starts just phasing ectoplasm into still sealed cans so he can grab and go for the sake of convenience. Then some other ghost get a taste, like it, and start asking for more. So Danny gets some new friends and starts making ghost money selling his concoction, and as a joke based on the original name of the energy drink, paints over the can and relabels them Poltergeist.

For a while, business is booming but then a problem pops up. Real world items are contraband in the zone according to Walker, and most of the drink itself and the container it comes in is real world matter. Cue prohibition era shenaniganery as Danny and his allies became energy drink bootleggers, running from Walker, smuggling cases of Poltergeist, hiring ghost to help them with all of this, the whole nine yards.

I think this could work out pretty well with Danny and The Spooks, him and his boys mass producing and shipping out illegal ghost energy drinks could be a really cool plot line in my opinion, producing it, figuring out how to get it to the zone and all that as a group. I also feel this idea is just the right amount of wacky to work with the DP verse and serious/sensible enough to not be complete crack fic unless you want it to be.

When the Fenton’s and Valerie hear about that no good menace Phantom selling Highly Dangerous Ghost Drugs the flip their shit. The smear campaign is the stuff of legends. And then the truth comes out. It’s just a really Really REALLY tired teenager trying to stay awake and make some pocket money to buy first aid supplies and have some left over to buy food for homeless people.

If it’s a verse where Sam and Tucker are in on the whole ghost fighting thing then they are Energy Drink Kingpin Danny’s right and left hand men. Tucker’s the tech guy, figuring out how to build hidden compartments in vehicles to hide the goods, monitoring and screwing with Walker’s tech, managing accounts for human money he makes/figuring out how to exchange human money for Ghost money. Sam is his badass enforcer who keeps the underlings in line, and also uses her money and rich people connections to launder money and stuff. Proper crime boss stuff.

Eventually, everyone’s least favorite front loop catch’s wind of this. And I see this going one of two ways.

1) He comes to the conclusion that Danny’s not aloud to have nice things, and starts his own enterprise to compete with Danny. Stealing business, sabotaging production, tipping off Walker. General douchbaggery.

2) He is the opposite of opposition. He wants Danny as his Son, wants Danny to be just like him, wants to guide and train Danny the way he never got. So Danny, all on his own, building a criminal empire? Pissing off the authorities instead of being a little goody two shoes? Laundering money almost as good as his old man? It is wonderful and he is Here For It. Either he’s in the distance cheering him on or actively trying to help. “No no my boy, if you do it like that you’ll either end up broke or in jail for tax evasion. You’ve got to send your money through these channels and store it in banks of these countries. I’ll help you set up accounts.”

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp au #fic prompt #story prompt #writing prompt #danny phantom au #Danny’s a crime lord #and he’s bound and determined to make it everyone else’s problem #Frostbite is at first glance the muscles of the organization but then he throws on a lob calf and goes to his lab to cook up better flavors #this is my first to tagging Danny as a Crike Lord it will not be the last #Walker #Walker won’t admit it but he’s absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation #tickled pink beyond belief #His whole Shtick is to be an old timey cop #getting to do all this prohibition stuff is a litter Al dream come true for the guy #Vlad has a foam finger with Number 1 Crime Boss written on it #he’s never bend more proud of his little boy.#Vlad: *Sees Danny monologing to petty ghost criminals that are trying to take his business* I’ve never been prouder #*wipes a tear*

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computercreature · 1 year

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stealing this idea but what actor would you want to play roshuuto in the dub

#mine? either same actor as reigen or weird al #mp100 #reigen spinoff #flavor text

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soupy-sez · 10 months

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#public enemy #ll cool j #flavor flav #b/w #al pereira #pics #hip hop #rap #music #musicians #new york #soupy's #80s #1980s

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squishosaur · 10 months

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he said yes btw 🔥🔥🔥

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ridhearts · 2 years

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sing for me {kalim + rook}

when he swears he’ll slap anybody who’s ever told you “you talk too much.” (or maybe...just give them a dirty look).

!! information !!

characters: kalim + rook

reader: gender neutral!

cw: being told in the past that you talk too much, if that’s something you need warned for! Otherwise this is just. unabashed self indulgence

masterlists ⇿ requests

• • • • • • • Kalim

Kalim wasn’t quite sure how he got you started on the topic. The two of you were simply sitting in his room in silence, working on your respective history homeworks and only losing a shred of focus to occasionally bump the other playfully. Then, re-reading a passage in his textbook for the third time, something ignited Kalim’s curiosity and he asked you about your home. You answered simply at first, but after sitting with it for a few moments, you caved in and began explaining everything you knew in great detail.

To be entirely honest, Kalim had no idea what you were talking about. You were listing off places he had never heard of, holidays that sounded vaguely familiar, and talking about people he would never meet. The only thing Kalim was certain of was how deeply you cared about what you were saying, and even if he wouldn’t remember any of the details, he loved being able to know how you loved your home. Lying on his back, his head hanging off the edge of his mattress, Kalim hugged a pillow tighter to his chest.

A short while later, you coughed in the middle of a sentence and cleared your throat. Kalim waited for you to continue, eager to hear what you had to say next. A few more moments passed before you said, in a scratchy, worn-out voice, “...sorry.”

Kalim’s eyes had been closed in bliss as he listened to your excitement, but your sudden remorse made them shoot open. “For what?”

You had to clear your throat again to speak. “I think I got carried away. I…don’t even know if you know what I was talking about.”

“Well, how am I supposed to learn if you don’t tell me?!” Kalim sat up so quickly he gave himself a head rush, but powered through it to scoot closer to you. He loved listening to you talk. Your voice was enough to perk him up after a long day, and you always had such interesting ideas that he never thought of before! Plus, he could go on and on about how much he liked his home, so it was only fair to listen to you talk about yours! Whether you were remembering fondly or bitterly, no matter what you had to say, Kalim would listen to your stories for hours with no complaints.

He grabbed your hand in both of his and gave you a wide-eyed, pleading look. “Pleeeease keep going? You were telling me something about a playground you always went to, right?”

“Oh, uh…my throat’s pretty dry, and I don’t want to bore you…”

“Never!” Kalim squeezed your hand in his enthusiasm, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you react. Apologetically, he half-kissed, half-nuzzled your knuckles before jumping off the bed. Papers slid to the floor after him as he stumbled forward, nearly yanking the whole blanket off in the process. “I’ll get us something to drink, and then we can take a break and you can tell me all about it!”

• • • • • • • Rook

“So then I started doing some research, and it all started coming back to me! I feel like I just started all over again, you know? Like my passion has been reignited. I have so many ideas for what I want to write about, and the information available here is pretty similar to what we know back in my world! Actually, there are some bits you know more about, which is super cool! Back in my world we didn’t know this, but did you know…”

Even though you couldn’t see it, what with the two of you on the ground with you lying perpendicular to him with your head on his stomach, Rook smiled as you continued telling him about the exciting new program that had caught your eye. He noticed you looking into internships and independent study programs for a specific field, something you mentioned having an interest in before you were transported to this world. It seemed Crowley was still working out a way to send you back and had encouraged you to look into some non-magical skills you could hone once you moved up to your fourth year at NRC. Evidently you found one you liked, as you quickly made yourself sparse to read up on the available knowledge in the library. Rook was your go-to soundboard for figuring out the discrepancies between the information you learned in your world and what was known in this one, as well as your biggest hype man to encourage you to keep an eye on this competitive program.

“...and put together with that one thing from my world I told you about, it all just makes so much sense. I was thinking about writing my essay on that, but is it plagiarism if I discuss ideas from my world that were common knowledge and don’t exist here yet? Who’s to say I wouldn’t come to that conclusion myself? I’m sure if I look harder I can find an article or two to cite, but it’d be easier if I had access to a database. Do you think Crowley could get me into a database? Don’t let me forget to ask him.”

It seems the birdwatching the two of you had loosely planned for today would have to wait, but Rook didn’t mind one bit. He cherished every moment he got to spend with you, and he loved to be the one to bring out that look of wonder as he showed you some rare species that made a home on NRC grounds, but he adored your excitement even more. Your voice was sweeter than any birdsong to him. Rook could listen to you talk about this for hours - not just to learn more about you, but because he wanted to share your love and interest.

Without meaning to, Rook sighed happily and let his arm fall so that it rested across your midsection. Second later, you trailed off in the middle of a sentence before clearing your throat. Rook could feel the bubbling contentment in his chest give way to a stillness that told him he had done something wrong.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away…and I bet I’ve scared all the birds, too. Uh, did…you have something to say? I didn’t mean to monopolize-”

“Non!” Rook cried out, instantly sitting up. Your head slid into his lap, and he cupped your face before leaning over you. His head blocked out the sun so you could see a distressed expression on his shadowed face. If you weren’t used to his dramatics, you’d be sure he was seconds away from tears. “Je suis désoléI did not mean to sigh in annoyance, I was sighing in bliss! Please, mon amour, continue with your story! I want to hear all about it.”

His theatrics caught you off guard. It was disarming enough to hear him so desolate about a sigh, let alone that he seemed to figure out exactly what you were doing and why. “O-oh, I didn’t mean to be so sensitive. I’ve just probably told you this already, is all.”

“It matters not! Tell me five, ten, a thousand times, and I’ll listen to them all with rapt attention.” He leaned away so you could sit up, readjusting yourself so that when you both reclined, you were side by side. Absently, Rook traces a line down your hairline before kissing the crown of your head. “Keep going! Whoever has discouraged you from speaking your mind has trespassed greatly, but I am here to right their wrongs. So, if you please…”

You sighed, trying not to look too pleased. “You’re so dramatic, you know?”

Rook only grinned and watched you expectantly. And who were you to keep him waiting?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader #rook hunt x reader #kalim al asim #rook hunt #this is for my sad bitches who have been told they talk too much #or my personal favorite flavor that when you speak you're 'condescending'

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