#i wonder if some of you will notice another subtle detail i added about her

[azuneekun]

i drew my favorite stardew valley mean girl ♥

#stardew valley #stardew valley haley #stardew haley #haley stardew valley #sdv haley #haley sdv #haley sv #sv haley #my art #no surprise i love both shane AND haley. #im an equal opportunist masochistic bisexual #its about time i drew my other wife again 🤤💘 #if you noticed that my haley seems to have asian features...well thats because i hc her and emily being asian americans! heehee #hence her pudding hair 🍮 #i wonder if some of you will notice another subtle detail i added about her #anyway im satisfied so gn

[sithstrings]

a little blurb of my oc and tech talking about Phee and life in general.

Its also on ao3 here

Hope y'all enjoy :)

            Auren joined her squad in Cid’s office, tuning out most of what they were saying. Whatever mission Cid would send them on Tech would brief her on all the details over. However, when she stepped inside Cid’s office, another woman was in there as well. 

            “Well, well, well. The space lugs decided to finally show up,” Cid complained.

            “Better late than dead, I always say,” the woman added. Her features were rich, and her clothing seemed that of someone who was on the go. Very practical. 

            “And who are you?” Hunter asked.

            “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked in return. “So, this is the top team you’ve been talking about? The rogue clones on the run from the Empire, huh? How juicy.”

            “You told her?” Hunter spoke up.

            “Don’t get twitchy,” Cid defended, in an unthreatened tone. “Phee’s a friend. She’s the most trustworthy pirate I know.”             “Is that supposed to be comforting?” Hunter asked.             “A bit of a paradox, huh?” Auren whispered to Tech, who wasn’t paying attention. 

“Aren’t clones supposed to look alike? So much for quality control,” Phee scoffed. Pointing to each of them she noted “This one’s too big. This one’s too small. This one doesn’t even look like a clone. This one’s got a face tattoo. Yeah, real subtle.”

            Auren knew that all too well. She wasn’t a clone like they were, after all. Genetically, she was completely different. Auren noticed Phee’s expression shift to one of interest, as she looked to Tech, who was sort of hidden behind Wrecker.

            “Oh, hey now,” she smiled, “Got a name, brown eyes?”

            “Tech. However, the phenotypic eye color for all clones is brown. Iris pigmentation was not affected by our mutat-“

            “Well, as fascinating as this has been,” Phee cut him off, “I have places to be.” And like that, she promptly left. 

            Auren shared a look with Echo, who caught that interaction too. She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. But then a sad thought entered her mind. 

            Crosshair would’ve never lived it down had he seen a woman flirt with his brother like that. 

            Auren had always noticed, during the war, that Crosshair and Tech had a sort of unspoken bond. Crosshair was the one who observed what Tech would do at the computer, and in some instances could replicate it himself. Similarly, it was undeniable that Tech was a pretty good shot. Crosshair would never miss an opportunity to make a playful jab at his brothers, but Tech got the least of it. They seemed to understand that they both expressed their feelings quite differently from each other. Tech was the first to acknowledge that Crosshair’s decision to stay apart from them was something he had to respect, even if he knew Auren was heartbroken by it. 

            As soon as they were back on the ship and everyone was off doing their own thing Auren joined Tech in the cockpit as he tinkered with something on his data pad.

            “What you working on, brown eyes?” Auren asked with a small grin. Tech didn’t respond. “Uh…Tech?”

            “Yes? Did you require something?” He asked finally looking up from his data pad. 

            “Nope. Just wondering what my old pal brown eyes is up to.” Auren said, leaning back in the chair, putting her legs up on the controls.

            “I was looking at possible artifacts that could be retrieved from Dooku’s War chest,” he said looking back down at his data pad. “Some are quite fascinating.”

            “I’m sure they are,” Auren said. “Tell me about one of them.” 

            “Well, I thought this artifact hailing from Balmorra thought to be thousands of years old was quite fascinating, particularly because there were very few made, each one of them different,” Tech began.

            “What’s it look like?” Auren asked, leaning in to see what he was looking at on the data pad. It looked to be a goblet of some sort.

            “It appears to be a goblet of some sort. Each one has different inscribing on it, in what is thought to be an unknown language. But I think I could decipher it given the time and resources,” Tech detailed.

            “What do you think it would say? Are the other ones transcribed already?”

            “I’m not sure. The others aren’t transcribed either, and many of them were proven fakes or have gone missing. But the general idea is that it belonged to someone who the locals of Balmorra treated as a prophet, but my suspicion is that they were just force sensitive in some capacity, if not fully a jedi or even a Sith.”  

            “Seems like something that girl Phee would like. She said she was a ‘liberator of ancient wonders,’ right?” Auren asked, getting to the subject she really wanted to ask Tech about. Not that she didn’t find the subject already interesting and saw it as a moment of bonding.

            Tech hesitated. “Perhaps…” Something in his expression changed slightly. “I’m…not quite sure I would trust that it would not end up on the black market, however. An artifact like that…well, it either belongs in a museum or back on its home planet.”

            “I agree. Although, I think you can trust her,” Auren reassured. 

            “Why is that? We’ve barely even spoken to her,” Tech asked. 

            “I didn’t say we could, I think you could, brown eyes,” Auren smiled, widening her eyes a bit at him. Tech frowned. Auren just sighed, still smiling.

            “I get the feeling this whole ‘brown eyes’ debacle is one of those instances where something goes over my head.”

            “Echo and Wrecker already started bugging you about it, huh?” Auren asked. Tech nodded. “Do you want me to give it to you straight?”

            “Yes. I don’t see why not,” Tech replied, putting his data pad down and giving Auren his full attention.

            “She was flirting with you, Tech,” Auren let out a small giggle, making a whoosh sound moving her hand over her head.

            “And it went right over my head. Great,” Tech sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

            “I’m sorry, Tech. Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’re just giving you a hard time is all,” Auren tried to comfort him. 

            “It’s fine. I don’t mind that part at all. I do the same to Wrecker quite often. It’s just that…” He trailed off. Auren looked at him with intent, giving him permission to continue. “I suppose sometimes it is difficult to live with how I process the world. I often wonder if some things would have turned out differently had I seen them like everyone else does. It can be quite…isolating, I guess,” Tech admitted, looking down at the ground. Auren’s face filled with sympathy instantly. She took his hand in hers and felt him twitch at the contact. 

            “I had no idea you felt that way, Tech. But I promise you, you’re not alone. Things going over your head here and there is nothing to beat yourself up for.”

            “I know. It’s just…frustrating. Especially with stuff like this. If I had known, perhaps I would have acted differently.”

            “Acted differently? Tech, are you trying to say you think she’s pretty?” Auren smiled.

            “I suppose so,” He admitted, “I guess I just don’t think of…that sort of thing as an option for myself.”

            Auren remembered that same thought. She had it with Crosshair. He had it with her. 

            “I thought the same thing with Crosshair,” Auren said quietly.

            “And in the end, you wound up hurt.”

            “I did. But Tech, you deserve those things too. Even if they’re temporary and they end up hurting us it is worth it.”

            “I guess I never thought of it that way,” Tech said, “Is that how you still feel about Crosshair?”

            “Every day. A part of me feels like he died. Like he didn’t choose the Empire over me. But I know that to some degree, it wasn’t his fault. Or that he’s just being himself-wanting to fight to prove something that you and I already know. And you taught me that it’s okay to not agree with a decision, but to still understand it. You did.”

            “I see. And for the record, I am still on your side with the issue,” Tech added. “I can imagine how it may have felt easier just to stay with the Empire, but I admire your commitment to this path,”

            “Really, Tech?” Auren laughed a bit. “Well that means a lot coming from you, Mr. ‘Brains of the Operation.’”

            “I know that was a rhetorical ‘really’ but yes, I think it sets a good example, especially with someone as young and impressionable as Omega along with us.”

            Auren squeezed his hand with hers. Auren never really told Omega about the exact details of their relationship, because that would be weird. But the way that she and Crosshair acted the last time they saw each other on Kamino…well Omega was smart enough to figure it out. 

            “I appreciate that, Tech. More than you know, honestly,” Auren said. It was always nice to know she was needed. “I’ll tell you what. If there’s ever something that goes over your head again, or you just need to talk through something, I’m here for you.”

            “I will…gladly take you up on that offer,” Tech replied. Auren let go of his hands. “Thank you for understanding.”

            “Of course. Brown Eyes.” Auren replied, a wide grin on her face. Tech’s small smile was rare, but it made his whole face glow. She stood up, patting his shoulder as she left to go take care of other tasks in the ship and let Tech return to his research. 

#tech tbb #the bad batch #crosshair x oc #tech x phee #techphee #phee genoa #tech is alive #star wars tbb #clone force 99 #the bad batch oc #tbb oc

[hookingminor]

“In awe, the first time you realised it” with Mat Barzal please🥺

31. In awe, the first time you realised it

I swear all my favorite things I've written are for barz, this is also so self-indulgent for me bc my love language is playlists

-

You and Mat had been dating for just under a year now, still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship even after a few fights, and he swore you were the only person he would never get tired of. The weekends you spent at his apartment, the Saturday morning markets you always dragged him to, the nights he curled on your couch watching TV while you worked away at the kitchen table, there was no such thing as too much time with you.

The feeling nagged at the back of Mat’s mind, subtle and quiet, a distant voice telling him he was in love with you even if his brain hadn’t completely registered it yet. Your relationship was comfortable. You moved around each other with an ease Mat had never known, as if you’d spent years together and now lived in routines that revolved around the other. He hadn’t even processed how used to being around you he’d gotten until your first summer apart had hit.

He thought about you all the time, wondering whether or not you’d like the outfit he chose when he went out with friends, whether you’d enjoy his mom’s cooking, whether you were thinking about him all the way back in New York when he was in Coquitlam.

By the time fall came back around, he was ready to ask you to move in even if neither of you had said those words yet. Mat just missed you all the time. It didn’t matter how much time you spent apart, he was counting the hours until he saw you again.

It was only when the two of you packed your bags and climbed into his car, ready for a weekend road trip upstate that the overwhelming feeling of how much he loved you hit him. You chose to drive, knowing Mat’s proclivities for driving a little too fast would’ve made you insane during the four hour ride to the secluded cabin he rented. In turn, he got to choose the music, though you made him compromise that he’d split the time between both of your spotifys.

Yours and Mat’s music taste didn’t always mesh well, and while he knew your account and followed it, he never delved into the playlists you curated. At the two hour mark, he unlocked your phone and scrolled through your account, clicking through a few playlists as he tried to find one that he wouldn’t completely hate.

He came across one titled happiness, the playlist photo piquing his curiosity. It was a little further down the list, about halfway through your nearly twenty playlists, and he recognized the picture as his own head. There were no discernible features, only his hair as his head rested on your chest and your fingers curled in the strands, but Mat knew it was him.

One by one, he read over each song in the playlist. The theme seemed all over the place, ranging from slow songs to upbeat pop to hip-hop, and his curiosity got the best of him.

“Babe, what’s this playlist?” He asked, stretching your phone so you could check the screen. You only took a brief glance, noticing the title immediately and shifting your focus back to the road.

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of songs that remind me of you,” you answered with an apathetic shrug. You added the first song a week after you met Mat after your first date when you knew that you wouldn’t be letting him go any time soon.

Mat furrowed his brows, not quite sure what Christmas Eve by Kelly Clarkson or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye had to do with him, but he pressed shuffle anyways.

The first song that came on was Flightless Bird, American Mouth, and Mat vaguely remembered hearing this before.

“Why’s this one on it?” He asked.

“Remember when I made you watch Twilight even though you complained the entire time? You said you thought this song sounded nice, so I added it,” you explained.

“And Bloom?” Mat questioned, finding another song title he didn’t know.

“It was a song that played in the cafe during our first date.”

“Shoop?”

“That one night we stayed up until three baking brownies because we were drunk and hungry, we sang it, like, four times dancing in the kitchen,” you said.

It turned out every song on the playlist had some underlying meaning as to why you added it. There was the song you first slow danced to at a teammate’s wedding, the song you chose to karaoke to once at a bar, the song Mat always played first thing upon turning on his car for a couple weeks whenever he drove anywhere, songs he found himself singing under his breath while not realizing you were listening, his favorite Taylor Swift songs even though he would publicly claim he didn’t listen to her, songs he went crazy for every time they played in clubs. Every song had a story.

Mat didn’t ask you for the explanation for each one, not wanting to annoy you with his many questions, but he connected the dots soon enough after you told him Green Light by Lorde was on there because of how many times you and Mat had watched through New Girl, but more specifically, the scene where Nick and Jess finally get together.

A few sparked memories in his own head, the Khalid songs you made him listen to the one time you convinced him to get high with you, the Kendrick songs he swore were the best rap songs ever made, even a few Bieber songs you found more tolerable than others since you weren’t a fan of him but Mat was.

The playlist was nearing fifty songs, all recounting moments in your relationship over the past year, and Mat’s chest tightened in a way he’d never felt before.

He was in love with you.

You didn’t even bat an eye explaining the meaning of each song, every story fresh in your mind and you told him each one without hesitation. Had it not been for your eyes on the road, you probably would’ve noticed the tears welling in his eyes, though he quickly brushed them away.

His heart was so full of love for you, how you paid attention to every detail, and there was no doubt in his mind he was in love.

“You good?” You glanced over quickly, curious as to why he was quiet all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He cleared his throat.

“I love you.”

That caught your attention immediately, and you looked back at him, your own eyebrows slightly drawn together in confusion as the outburst.

“Yeah?” You asked. The words had been on the tip of your tongue for so long you could probably trace it back to the first time you met him, but you kept it to yourself. Mat was always cautious with his words, never wanting to say anything he didn’t fully believe, and you didn’t want to scare him off saying it too early.

“Yeah,” he replied confidently. Grabbing the hand resting on the gearshift, he intertwined your fingers and brought it to his lips. “I love you." Gently, Mat kissed your knuckles.

Your own heart felt like bursting at the soft look on his face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he chuckled, wide grins spreading across both of your faces.

You brought his knuckles to your own lips, placing a soft kiss on them before letting your joined hands rest across the middle console. The remainder of the drive was silent, neither of you starting a conversation as you let your playlist take you the rest of the way.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #isles13 #2k blurb weekend

[dornish-queen]

GQ MEXICO - PEDRO PASCAL 2021

It seems that Pedro Pascal is in all possible universes. Here and there. In the past, in the present, and in galaxies far, far away. Today, the actor is considered the great entertainment reference and one of those in charge of saving a franchise that seemed lost. Enough reasons to talk exclusively about discipline, gastronomy, creeds and how he traumatized his father in 30 seconds.

The RAE defines 'creed' as the set of ideas, principles or convictions of a person or a group. For example, by creed, one can leave his country and be in exile. It happens that one can leave the loved one behind. Or simply live in another reality. And also one can put on a helmet to pretend never to take it off again. If that is the path to follow, the creed says that it must be done with the profession of faith and without stopping to look. Turning the pages of the script for The Mandalorian , the Disney + series that revived passion and nostalgia for the Star Wars franchise , Pedro Pascal came across this definition in every dialogue and moment, and reflection carved his way.

More than two decades have passed since the Chilean-American, Pedro Pascal, began his acting career and today, named as the great reference of 2020 , he misses the theater and it still hurts him not to have the discipline to exercise and maintain a diet sana while acknowledging the irony of having the best year of her career in the midst of one of the worst in recent history. But even in physical solitude, the man who carried the best-selling Christmas baby rescues many positive things and shares his vision of the universes he has traveled through, his passion for distant galaxies and how to traumatize your family with a simple scene of TV. In an interview, the Mandalorian of Latinamerica.

IMDB named you the 2020 benchmark in entertainment, a year in which the world took refuge in fiction. How was living your best time locked up and what do you rescue on a human level from it?

The strength of family relationships and friendship. For them, we endure this physical loneliness. I do find it ironic that in 2020 I received projects so well received by the public, although they were carried out before the pandemic and their impact was during it, and that year I was isolated and alone. But I must emphasize that this loneliness is a privilege when many people had to continue working, surviving and maintaining the functioning of the world. We only had to be alone, but they more than that and you must value it too.

Among the activities you have missed, how much do you miss the theater?

Much indeed. It's something that I miss the most and being with people without being afraid. See a play and return to those experiences of being with people doing and living things in common. That is what I need most, in addition to my loved ones.

Disney fully entered streaming and its strong letter has your face, what do you think of the discussion of platforms against movie theaters?

There are incredible things in streaming and many people develop great projects that they did not have access to before. The diversity of voices is gaining ground and it is important to recognize that opportunities grow exponentially and boundaries change. It is incredible the availability that we have to very well made content and how creative people can share their work in different ways. But I also want to be honest: limiting the experience of watching content only on our gadgets or at home is a mistake that affects the stories we can tell. You have to achieve a mix of opportunities and challenges.

You jump between the fictional universes that mark the last decades until you reach the universe of universes. What is your first Star Wars memory and how do you summarize the essence of this legendary story?

For me, Star Wars is nostalgia itself. It is one of the primary things in my memory, of my childhood. I came to the United States with my Chilean family when I was less than two years old and one of my first memories is going to the movies with my dad to see the saga ; it becomes one of those romantic childhood things that opens your mind, so imagine how special it is to participate in this project. I think the creators of The Mandalorian perfectly understand this nostalgia and that power, and they managed to count on that element as a great ally for the world of Star Wars and I couldn't be happier to be part of it. (From which we expect the third season The Mandalorian)

The Mandalorian exploits the power and nuances of your voice, did you have that letter on your resume?

I didn't know I could do it, but I resorted to my theater preparation, which was very physical on all levels and feelings. There are elements that have to do with and that are essential to create a role, and they teach you that the voice is something primary, something you have to start with and you cannot hide. Now I have learned much more about the importance of that, and how to use it economically. The body also has to do with that, because something very subtle communicates something. In The Mandalorian , I had a great time figuring out how to do it, they gave me the opportunity to develop it in different ways. The opportunity to be very intense at it.

What happens to the ego when someone works under a suit and a mask?

In the conversations about the project, before doing it, we were communicated the idea and the concept of the entire season , so I clearly understood what it was. I wanted it to be the most powerful version of what they were trying to accomplish, so there was no point in involving my ego, you know? It was already very clear what the project meant, so I knew about the character , the piece that it represented for him and the opportunity that it was for me, so I was only focused on executing in a better way the part that touched me in everything this. In the theater, I worked several times under a mask and it helped me develop the experience.

It seems that The Mandalorian has a very theatrical base ...

Exactly, and thanks to the physical experience of working in theater, doing a play a few times a week, discovering how your body and your voice communicate , being part of a whole image, and how you will tell that story visually, I achieved this character. I never imagined that it would be something I would have to use on such an important Star Wars project .

On the list of entertainment greats, there are names like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, do you think John Favreau should be added to the list?

I think your name is already included. Without a doubt, it is in that category and it is incredible. His vision fascinates me. I remember an episode in the second season , and I had some boots and I walked so much in the snow, it stuck to them. He figured it out, so he talked to the art department about the kind of boots you need when you're out in the snow. They approached me and gave me new ones that fulfilled the idea I was looking for. He noticed it in an instant. It is such a wonderful detail and it is repeated to scale in every session with him. He thinks of absolutely everything and his vision of the use of technology is admirable. He is someone who makes you feel motivated and always sees how to achieve the goal.

One of the reflections in the series is on how and under what circumstances a man can break his creed and way of life. What makes you break with your beliefs?

I think that you must follow your heart so as not to regret anything; Although sometimes it brings pain or conflict, deep down when you look back, everything is worth it because it was what you heard in your heart. I am very afraid to deny that feeling or not to attend to it. I am 45 years old now and I cannot believe I have a finer philosophy. Make it more disciplined. It's ridiculous, but I'm trying to accept that I am and it's all I can say, "follow your heart." Although, you know, I'm not on a good diet yet, I still have trouble sleeping or exercising.

Still good at Chilean empanadas?

Yes, I couldn't stop. And also how good that I do not live in Mexico City because I would only spend it eating. I could move my whole life to defe just to eat.

I want to deviate and ask you, with whom did you see the chapter of your death in Game of Thrones and what traumas did you cause in your family?

For me, no trauma. I separate myself well from the characters , although I fully understand that if I were a Game of Thrones audience and loved that character, it would make an incredible impression on me. Thank you that it was not. I had to interpret it and there was a model of my head to be crushed that way with the tubes and the fake blood, you know? Me lying there, with pieces of my meat, it was funny in the end. But not for my family. For them there is nothing funny but traumatic. My dad's voice changed completely when we saw the episode, he turned around and said: “I didn't like it, Pedro . No, Pedro , not this ”.

The media found similarities between your villain in Wonder Woman: 1984 and Donald Trump. When playing a character with characteristics like this, do you humanize him or do you understand him?

The project had nothing to do with the former president. They always told me that my character in Wonder Woman: 1984 was emotionally messy, and I took that and took that as far as possible. Instead of creating it with images or certain inspirations from life, it was more to work with what was on the page. Personally, what made sense to me is the size of the story that is being told and there is always more, and we all want more. Creatively, if this makes sense, that meant "blowing her out of the park." Connect a hit with the character and be committed to telling his story faithfully, in a way that was true to me. So all the exterior elements found their way.

What a way to start 2021 with the theme of the Capitol ... How do you perceive that moment?

I am not a politician and it is not that I do not have an opinion about this type of event; however, it is not necessary to state the obvious. My opinion would be very simple compared to that of a person who studied this, who knows how to act in these kinds of scenarios; I believe that I am next to the majority who experienced this, which is the logical result of what we have experienced during these years and we are all horrified . It was distressing to see this violence.

If you had the monolith in your hands, what would your wish be?

My wish would be… it's impossible, really (laughs). I think it is to be together again, with less fear and that people have the opportunity to connect.

What is your position on the reality that Chile has experienced in recent years and how has the relationship with your country been since exile?

It is something that I am developing and I continue to do in my life, trying to understand that it is my home. To be in Chile is to be at home, but my life has been very nomadic, living different things and having many influences; so it is strange, I do not feel with the title of a complete Chilean identity nor with an American one.

Neither here nor there?

In a sense, but I'm also completely both. My parents are Chilean , my brothers were born there before my parents traveled, and I came back sometimes because my family is very large; in fact, my parents came back. It has always been there, it continues to develop, and it will be a part of me. I don't know if it answers your question, but it has a lot to do with who I am.

What is your relationship with Latin American cinema? Are you interested?

Much, it has invaded me in life like American cinema. The movies that I carry in my heart, seeing something like Y tu mama was also something that changed me; I also love the work that comes out of Chile , and the only thing I can say is that it is a cinema that needs more access and projects.

Today you have a comedy with Nicolas Cage on the door, can you tell us something?

It's my first shot at comedy , as a complete story within the genre. Speaking of American influences , in the 80s I saw all the films where Nicolas Cage appeared , he came into my life and it's great to be his partner after seeing all his performances.

How is the relationship you have with the comedy genre?

I love it, I have done a lot of comedy in the theater, what happens is that in film and television issues , I was always part of drama castings . And in the cinema, you go where the doors open; Although I identify with one or the other, I think that being an actor , one goes and does what one has to do. Comedy is something unique, it is very challenging because it must be very real to be funny, you cannot hide or use normal tricks. I was very excited to have this challenge in front of a camera.

Finally, Pedro, after going through so many fictional worlds, literally, what do you dream about when you sleep?

I dream that my bathroom is dirty, that I haven't done my math homework, that the oven is on and all that stuff. Sure, there are times when I close my eyes and see myself in all these projects , although my conscience is with the anxieties of the day that you can imagine.

Without a doubt, Pedro Pascal is a particular type .

English Tranlation: Google Translate

SOURCE:  GQ MEXICO

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #gq mexico #Articles

[helnjk]

If I Could Tell Her - H.P.

Harry Potter x reader

this is my next installment of my showtunes fic list. this is based on the song If I Could Tell Her from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. this is also the first fic i’ve posted for harry on here ! 

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: nearly a year after the final battle, harry is still struggling to gain his bearings in the world. luckily she’s there to hold his hand along the way.

Warnings: mentions of food, & just a whole lot of mutual pining

lyrics are bolded & italicized

–

He just seemed so far away

Y/N took a deep breath.

With one foot in front of the other, she took a step and twisted to the right, feeling the familiar tightness that came with apparition. In the blink of an eye she found herself in front of the home that she and her friends had spent their summer before 5th year in. 

She chose to skip the knock on the door, opting instead to just let herself in. Many changes had been made to the house since it was the Order headquarters. The biggest and most obvious one being Harry taking up permanent residence in it. 

“Harry, love?” She called out, despite knowing that he would be where he always was. 

“In here!” A disembodied voice replied, coming from towards the end of the house. 

Like so many times before, Y/N found the dark haired boy in the kitchen. He was sat at the dining table, a few parchments spread messily in front of him and detailing the plans he had yet to accomplish for the renovations. 

The war had taken a toll on Harry, it had taken a toll on everyone really, but no one could blame him for wanting some time by himself for a while. They all knew how much he deserved to rest and recover.

But now, nearly a year after the final battle, Harry found himself less and less willing to venture out into the world again. It was as if everyone had started moving on and making progress with their lives without him. And in some ways, they were, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he was able to live a life without the looming threat of war on his shoulders. 

Instead, he focused his attention on the house left to him by his late godfather, and vowed to make a home in it. 

While most people left him to his own devices, Y/N knew that he craved companionship most days. Having been friends with him from the moment she stepped into the train compartment nearly eight years ago, she understood him more than most. So began the habit of popping by every so often to have a cup of tea and a chat. 

“Been hard at work, have you?” She smiled, taking a seat across from him. 

“Just trying to figure out what to do with the drawing room on the second floor,” He said and she noticed how his brows furrowed ever so slightly at the puzzle in front of him. 

“You mean the problem you’ve been ‘figuring out’” She used her fingers to make quotation marks, “For the last three weeks?” 

Harry didn’t answer, but she noticed him roll his eyes playfully. Y/N knew that this meant he was in a relatively good mood today, and he could take the barrage of news from the outside world that she had brought with her. 

So, she took a seat across from him and began her recount of the stories she heard throughout the week.

“So Bill and Fleur announced that they’re having a baby,” She began. 

–

The pair of them continued on with their regular routine, Harry would busy himself with his plans for Grimmauld Place while Y/N brought him up to date with the events of the outside world. Every so often, he would risk a glance up at her and the edges of her lips would curl up in a smile.

It was during these moments that Y/N always had to pause. It only took one look from Harry for her to become a puddle of unexplainable emotions. During the war, when they had gone on their horcrux hunt, there wasn’t any time to dwell on these things. Survival was always the top priority. But now, now she had months and months of these little interactions and her heart was finding it hard to ignore. 

She often found herself shaking her head and trying to clear her daydreams of the two of them. Too often she would fall asleep to images of her and Harry going on dates and pressing soft kisses on each other’s lips. But she knew in her heart that that was all they were, daydreams and fantasies. 

Harry needed her as a friend, and she could give him that. 

As the afternoon wore on, she remembered the main reason for her visit that day. 

Harry was in the process of clearing up the cluttered table and she took the opportunity to bring it up, “So there’s going to be lunch at the Burrow this Sunday.” 

His movements paused. She continued, “And I was hoping that you would come with me. Molly always has loads of food and I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if it were fresh and not leftovers like I usually bring over.” 

There was another lull in the air. 

Y/N opened her mouth to try and convince him further but he cut her off, “Sure.” 

“What?” 

His eyes met hers and he gave her a small smile, “I reckon it’s been too long since I’ve last had Molly’s amazing cooking.” 

A slow smile stretched across Y/N’s face. This was the most he had agreed to in nearly a year and she was hopeful about slowly reintroducing his loved ones back into his life. 

“Perfect.” 

There's nothing like your smile

Sort of subtle and perfect and real

The Burrow hadn’t changed much since Harry last saw it. 

The peculiar house still stood tall and proud in the Devon landscape, held together undoubtedly by magic. The smoke billowing from its chimney reminded him of cozy Christmases spent together with everyone he held close to his heart, and the lively chatter filtering through the open windows made his heart stutter in anticipation. 

Y/N took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Her smile was gentle, letting him know that she was there if he needed it. He could tell that she was nervous too, not for herself, but for how he would react to being surrounded by so many people again after so long. 

He couldn’t tell how he knew, he just saw it in the way she smiled. But he was grateful for it, because without her steady grasp on his hand, he probably would have disapparated before he even got through the threshold of the place he used to call a second home. 

“Come on then,” She urged, beginning to take steps towards the entrance, “Let’s see who’s already here!” 

“Oh Y/N, you made it!” Molly’s voice exclaimed as they entered the home, “I was wondering when you’d get here–”

The Weasley family matriarch paused at the door between the kitchen and the living room, her eyes set upon the boy she considered her son.

“I can’t say no to a gorgeous meal of yours can I, Molly?” She joked, slightly tugging on Harry’s hand to bring him into the room, “And I brought a guest with me today.” 

Molly seemed to gain her bearings once again as a radiant smile crossed her face, she knew not to make too much of a fuss about Harry being over after months of hiding away. Instead, she simply patted his cheek, “Lovely to see you again, Harry dear. Now come on, there’s enough food to go around!” 

The kitchen of the Burrow was alive with conversation. Most of the Weasleys and their significant others were gathered around the magically enlarged table, chatting over steaming dishes of wonderful smelling food. 

Their entrance garnered many beaming smiles, but everyone knew not to pay them too much attention. Harry chose to take a seat next to Ron, who nudged him with a small smile on his face. He returned the gesture, already feeling more at ease. Since his hand was still connected with hers, Y/N chose to take the seat right next to him. 

Throughout the meal, Harry hadn’t spoken much, only nodding to whatever the person he was in conversation with said or sometimes adding a little quip here and there. He took comfort in Y/N’s steady presence beside him, once in a while squeezing his thigh or patting his arm. 

“–and he wouldn’t tell me how to turn it back to normal!” 

Ron’s particular way of storytelling brought him out of his stupor. He was in the middle of an exciting story on the twins’ latest prank on him, and Y/N had let out a snort of laughter. 

Harry’s heart seemed to stop as he watched her and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as he noticed the smile on her face. Of course he knew that she was beautiful, it was something so obvious to him as they grew up together. But there was something in the way her smile lit up her face at that moment.

It was like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long. To him, her smile was refreshing, invigorating, and all-consuming. Harry looked at Y/N and felt as if he could never get enough of her. A spark ignited in him and suddenly he was determined to keep her in his life as long as possible. 

Y/N caught onto his stare as her laughter tapered off and she raised an eyebrow, “Everything alright?” 

As quickly as it had come, the spell she had on him vanished as he nodded, “Yep. Brilliant.” 

The conversation flowed around them, merry laughter filling the air once again from different areas of the room, but Harry only had eyes for Y/N. 

But he kept it all inside his head 

What he thought he left unsaid

“Y/N-” He cut her off. 

Her eyes darted to him confused. He could feel his pulse in his neck and blood rushed to his ears. Suddenly he couldn’t help but wring his hands together nervously, unable to explain his actions. 

“Yeah, Harry?” She asked, fully turning her body to face him, “You okay?” 

“I’m brilliant,” He mumbled, heart pounding in his chest, “I just have something I want to tell you.” 

Anxiety bubbled in his chest and up his throat as the words came out of his mouth. He hadn’t even planned on telling her anything as she arrived that day, yet here he was. She just looked so beautiful, the soft candlelight almost glowing on her skin and highlighting her features. Harry was sure he had never felt more in love with her than he was in that moment, and she hadn't even been doing anything. 

Her eyes shined with concern and her attention was fully on him now. He hadn’t been known to interrupt her when she went on her long spiels of updates. Sensing his nervousness, Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. 

Unbeknownst to him, her own heart pounded in her chest. Against better judgement, she had imagined a scenario exactly like this wherein Harry would spontaneously profess his undying love for her too many times. And secretly, she hoped that this would be the moment her daydreams would come true, nearly holding her breath in anticipation. 

It wasn’t. 

“I’m thinking about asking McGonagall about how I can become a professor.” 

It took Y/N a few seconds of blinking at him to completely process what he had just said. Despite the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest, she knew that this was such a big step for him that she couldn’t feel bad about it. 

“Oh love that’s wonderful!” She nearly yelled, throwing her hands up and wrapping them around him, “You were such a good teacher in fifth year, I know you’ll do great!” 

A soft blush formed on his cheeks at her praise, but he happily accepted the hug, “Thank you. I figured it’s about time I started focusing on myself and what I want to do, instead of just this damn house. Being a teacher just feels right.” 

Despite all appearances, Harry berated himself silently. He had completely chickened out. Of course, he really had been thinking about sending an owl to his old head of house, but that was not what he planned on saying at all. 

He didn’t know what happened. His mouth just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but he couldn’t take it back now. The moment was ruined. 

If I could tell her

Tell her everything I see

If I could tell her 

How she’s everything to me 

Y/N could tell Harry was nervous. 

He was hosting a dinner at Grimmauld Place with the Weasleys and a few of his friends from school to announce his plans to get accredited to be a professor. He also wanted to show them how the renovations of the house had been going. She had arrived at his place early, as she always had, to help him prepare but he was a bundle of nerves and couldn’t sit still. 

So, she did what she always does whenever he got into a little bit of a panic. As plates and cutlery floated to their designated places and the table set itself, Y/N kept the conversation flowing. Although, it might have been more of a  monologue with the way he was only responding to her in hums or soft grunts. 

She was unaware of the inner turmoil raging in Harry. He had decided that he would finally tell her exactly what he felt about her. To hell if she didn’t feel the same, he thought recklessly, as long as he got to finally tell her what he had been feeling for nearly a year. 

During a lull, he finally plucked up enough courage to speak. 

“Listen Y/N–” 

“Harry–” 

The pair stared at each other, amused. This had always happened to them when they were still in school, as if their wavelengths were always on the same page. 

“You go ahead, Haz.” She smiled at him. 

He took a deep breath, “Alright.” 

Plucking up whatever was left of his Gryffindor courage, he turned to face her, a fierce sort of determination in his eyes. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He spoke clearly despite the ball of uncertainty in his chest.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t place. He stopped her, though, placing a hand on her arm, “Just let me get this off my chest, alright? Then you can say what you want to say.” 

She nodded. 

“Looking back at what my life’s been like this past year, and honestly the years we spent at Hogwarts too, you were the only constant thing I had. And I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for me to figure out what I was feeling, especially when you were being so patient with me. But, yeah, I-I’m in love with you, Y/N.” 

For once in her life, she was left speechless. In all of her daydreams, Y/N always had a witty quip up her sleeve after Harry confessed his feelings, but now they seemed to just escape her. 

“I love you too,” Was all she could choke out, a small laugh tumbling out of her lips. 

The two shared a dopey smile as their bodies gravitated towards each other. Their lips met in a soft kiss, with a certain slowness attached to the relief and exhalation that came from their confession. Y/N couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, arms slowly snaking around his neck, as Harry pecked her lips over and over. 

A soft ‘oh’ echoed through the silent room and the pair of them broke apart. Molly Weasley was stood at the door, holding a roast in her hands and blinking furiously at what she had just witnessed. Behind her, most of the Weasley clan stood eyes slightly widened and small smirks on their lips. 

Ron was the first to speak up, “It’s about bloody time.” 

As he spoke, the silent spell cast over the lot of them was broken. Hermione rolled her eyes at the lack of tact her boyfriend had, but she was secretly thrilled. 

“Well, now that that’s finally settled, I think it’s time for dinner!” Molly bustled in, looking for a place to put her food down and the rest of them clambered through the door.

Harry spared an embarrassed glance at Y/N, but she was grinning from ear to ear. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze before going to help set up. 

#kai's showtunes fics #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fics #harry potter fic #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #tw food #tw food mention

[fandomficsnstuff]

Little Dragon - Part 5

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

(Warnings: A few time jumps here and there, other than that I don’t think so)

High Valyrian is in cursive

You sat bored, staring out over your balcony. Daenerys had forbidden you from attending the fighting pits, which she had reopened, she didn’t want you to witness all the violence and the blood. But you were bored, you had already had your lessons today, your lessons included reading and writing so you didn’t want to read or write now. You watched the city of Meereen, dazed and daydreaming about a day more fun, when suddenly you heard the Unsullied outside your door, and you ran to it. It meant that Daenerys was back. You ran to the throne room, ready to greet her with a hug, when you suddenly stopped. Your (H/C) hair that had been flowing behind you as you ran came to a sudden stop, your chest slightly heaving as you saw who stood at the steps to the throne beside a dwarf, who you didn’t know. And when he looked at you you glanced at Daenerys, who gave a very light, and subtle, shake of her head. You looked down before running up the steps to her, hugging her as she hugged you back, her eyes never left the dwarf and exiled man. You retreated from the hug, turning around to look at the two men, Jorah giving you a faint, sad smile, which you returned.

“Princess, you’ve grown so much, you’ve-”

“You will not speak to her” Daenerys cut him off coldly, and you took it as your cue to step back, standing at her right side by the throne. She glanced at you, silently asking you if you were sure that you wanted to stay, but you merely nodded lightly, making her think for a moment before looking back to Jorah and the dwarf. You listened in on the conversation, apparently the dwarf was Tyrion Lannister, one of the houses from Westeros. You knew Jorah was of house Mormont, but you hadn't met anyone else from Westeros besides Daenerys, Jorah and Ser Barristan, so you were intrigued.

After a while, Jorah was banished again, but still alive, thanks to Tyrion, who glanced at you next “forgive me but who is the child? As far as I know, you have no children, Your Grace” Tyrion eyed you with great interest, Daenerys considering for a moment before looking to you “it’s alright, Little Dragon, introduce yourself” she whispered to you, making you nod and step forward, your hands in front of you “My name is (Y/N)” you glanced back at Daenerys who gave you a kind, reassuring smile and gave a tiny nod, you looked back to Tyrion at this assurance “(Y/N) Targaryen, adopted daughter of Daenerys Stormborn, of house Targaryen, pleased to meet you, uh-” you glanced at Daenerys, whispering something to her, making her smile and whisper something back. You gave a nod then looked back to Tyrion “My Lord” you finished. Daenerys beamed with pride as she heard you speak the common tongue so well now, a proud smile on her lips as she watched you step back in your place at her right side.

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

Once again you had been forbidden to go to the fighting pits, for the same reason as before, Daenerys wanted you to be a child for as long as possible. Tyrion had become Hand of the Queen, something you had read about before, and from what you gathered, it’s a second form of ruler, though of course answering to the King or Queen firstly.

You were playing with a stuffed toy dragon that Daenerys had made for you for your twelfth name day, something you were very thankful for. You were trying your best to follow what your teacher said, but could only focus on the stuffed dragon in your hands. You flinched when your teacher gently shook you, scolding you for not paying attention, making you read out loud from a Westerosi book, one about all of the Kings of the North, before Aegon conquered Westeros.

“Rickard Stark, also known as the Laughing Wolf, son of Jon, who defeated the Marsh King and extended the Stark kingdom to include the Neck” you read out loud, doing your best to not glare at your teacher, who very well knew that you didn’t want this lesson to continue. “How long-” your teacher stopped you, gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes “how long do I have to read this? I read it yesterday” you sometimes hated when your teacher wouldn’t speak in Valyrian, making you speak in the common tongue, but it gave you an answer nonetheless. “Do you find my lessons boring? When I were your age I would have been lucky to-”

“I just miss Daenerys…” you interrupted your teacher this time, earning you a scowl “she will be back when she is back, now, who was Rickar Stark’s father?” you groaned low “Jon Stark” you mumbled, leaning your head against your hand “can we talk about Aegon instead?” you looked up at your teacher, who scoffed “alright, what was the name of the Northern king who ruled and lived at the time when Aegon conquered Westeros?”

“Torrhen Stark, he was also known as the King Who Knelt” you answered proudly, your teacher giving you an unimpressed look, making your pride dampen a bit. You flinched when your door barged open, seeing Daario. You grinned wildly, abandoning your lessons to run up to him and hug him, he chuckled low and picked you up as you hugged him, giving the teacher a look, making your teacher nod, gather their things and leave quickly “where’s Mhysa?” you asked with a big grin “I wanna tell her about what I learnt today” Daario visibly tensed up “uhm, why don’t you tell me first?” he gave you a quick smile, still holding you in his arms as he carried you down the hallways “did you know that a Northern King, called Torrhen Stark, bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen, first of his name?” you had one of those smug smirks that only a child could wear, making Daario laugh a little “I did not”

“Well, there was also another king, called Brandon Stark, but people called him Brandon the Builder, he built a lot of things” Daario smiled softly at you “I can imagine, wanna tell me what he built?” you lit up at his question “they say he built Winterfell! Capital of the North and where all the nothern kings lived before Aegon came, and the Starks still live there too, but now as wardens of the north. And he built this giant wall too, it’s so big! They say you can’t see the top some days!” Daario laughed at your enthusiasm, finally reaching Daenerys’ room, setting you back down, but when you didn’t see Daenerys you just grew confused. Seeing Missandei you ran up to her, hugging her “how were the fighting pits? Was it fun? Where’s mother?” At your last question Missandei tensed visibly, a silence falling over all of you as Missandei glanced to Daario, then Tyrion, then back to you “there was some trouble in the fighting pits… The Sons of the Harpy appeared and they attacked us” your smile faded, preparing to hear the worst thing of your entire, short life, and when Missandei noticed she quickly added “Daenerys is okay, Drogon came and saved her, he saved all of us in fact, but she had to leave” you were quite relieved to at least know that the woman you considered to be your mother, who called you her own daughter, was alive.

“How long will she be gone?” you asked in a quiet voice, earning only a sad look in response, making you look down “she will be back, she will come back to you, she loves you” Missandei added, trying to take your small hands in hers, as she had seen Daenerys do so many times now, but it didn’t bring you the comfort she had hoped, instead you just nodded, standing still, your gaze at the floor as you wondered where she were at this moment.

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

Daario and Ser Jorah had left to search for Daenerys, that was a few months ago. Tyrion had convinced you, and mostly Missandei and Gray Worm, to let you sit on the throne, just until Daenerys was back. His argument was that she had taken you in as her daughter, and so, although unofficially, made you her heir. It took quite some time to convince Missandei, who was a sort of aunt to you, and who loved you almost as much as Daenerys did.

So here you sat, on the stone throne, listening to a former slave tell you of his former master harassing him. Though you sat on the throne, Missandei and Tyrion did most of the decision making, but not out loud, both of them advised you quietly. But even amongst all of the chaos, Missandei had a small gift made for you, for your upcoming name day, which she gave to you early. It was a small doll made to look like you, the same (Y/H/C) string of hair, a (Y/F/C) dress, and small (Y/E/C) buttons as your eyes, the fabric was also dyed to match your skin tone, and you had proudly displayed it on the table next to your bed, which made Missandei very happy.

You frowned as you heard the former slave talk of what exactly his former master did that counted as harassment, threatening him included, but you felt that he held back, due to your age, and before Tyrion or Missandei could speak, you decided to do so first “you can tell me, I know I’m young, and our Queen will return soon, but for now I can’t help if you don’t tell me everything” the former slave nodded, going into more detail of what his former master had said and done to him after he had been freed. You missed the proud look Missandei gave you, she only wishes Daenerys was here to see it too, knowing she would be glowing with pride and joy at your words. “We can’t let it go on, slavery is no longer a thing here, and by what you’re telling me, it sounds like your former master haven’t figured that out” you looked to Gray Worm “Gray Worm, put his former master in the cells, his fate will be decided later” Tyrion looked at you with an oblivious and, frankly, confused look, not understanding much Valyrian at all, watching Gray Worm leave with the former slave, Missandei once again standing proud.

“May I ask, what was your sentence?” He neared you on the throne, walking up the steps slowly “I haven’t decided yet” you admitted “but he’s being thrown into one of the cells” you stood up, looking at Missandei who still had a proud smirk on her lips, Tyrion, however, was not so proud “perhaps-” you walked past him, with Missandei to your room, Tyrion struggling to keep up “perhaps the cells are a bit too much” you stopped and glanced down at him, and Tyrion felt even smaller under your gaze, even at such a young age, you had learned from Daenerys “as my mother, your Queen, once said, I will answer injustice, with justice” you turned back around, continuing to walk with Missandei who did everything she could to not jump up and down in joy at your words, while Tyrion sighed, looking around to figure out what to do now.

#Daenerys Targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x Child!Reader #GoTFanFic

[shakey-hands]

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

#bungo stray dogs #kunikida x reader #bsd kunikida #dazai osamu #jealous kunikida

[haifengg]

Errands - Nanami Kento

Pairing: NanamixGN!Reader

Genre: Fluff // general summer or spring feelings // Is fashion a genre?

Summary: First dating Nanami and getting to know him better. On a bigger side note also about his clothes.

Word Count: about 1.6 k

One of the things that drew you to Nanami since the very first day of working together, was the way he dressed. Not just because he was one of the very few people at the school who didn’t wear all black uniforms but because he chose seemingly the same outfit every day. Which appeared odd to you. You wondered how his wardrobe would look like and if he really owned the same set of clothes a bunch of times to rotate them on a daily basis.

Then you started observing him a little closer and not only did you mentioned his  subtle perfume but also did it come to your attention that in fact he wasn’t wearing the same clothes every day. The colours variated only in nuances and the fabric too wasn’t the same. Some shirts of his were a simple cotton blend but others were made out of a more pattern woven fabric. A lot if his shirts were in fact blue. But they tend to have all sorts of different undertones.  A lot of them dipping into a grey palette. 

His suits also differed and after a few weeks of subtly stalking his clothes you arrived at the conclusion that he probably owned three to four different suits. Maybe some darker ones as well since housed to be a regular salary man. The beige-ness of them wasn’t all the same either. Because his shirts - even though one doesn’t see it at first -  were in fact very different in warmth of the color and texture of the fabric, he had ad least two beige coloured suits. Which he always managed to match perfectly to the dress shirts. 

Nanami surely had a favourite tie. Which he wore a lot and how you later found out: Owns three of. But he had a few other choices as well which he only chose when he was tied down to his desk with paperwork and wasn’t going into the field. Just as if the yellow tie with the golden touch was his battle tie. The one that boosted his confidence. Maybe even kind of his trade mark.

After taking note of all these different things you figure that he probably had to be a man of minutest detail. Not choosing too brightly coloured shirts because different shades of blue would complemented his hair better. 

And you wonder if other people paid that much attention to him as well or if it was just you.

After that thought formed in your head you realised how much you were thinking about Nanami Kento over the past few weeks and that you had - according to your data and previous crushes you had on other people - fallen for him.

Luckily Nanami was paying just as much attention to you than you were paying to him. He simply was way more discreet about it. But when he eventually was certain that asking you out was worth the trouble and pondered the emotional dividend - he did it. He asked you out. Very bluntly, very straightforward and your heart dropped to your knees. Because you secretly hoped that all your rapture would never have to be acted on.

[…]

Seeing him out of work not only made you realise how sweet of a man he is behind all those glasses, holsters, fighting and stern face, but also gave you more inside about his choice of clothes. During summery after noon dates he tend to show up in light linen shirts and slacks, a different pair of glasses than the one he wore to work. You would have never taken him for a jute bag kind of guy but he carried one of these pretty often.

When you asked him about it he only smiled softly and offered to show you. Then you got into a subway, holding on to the same pole. His arm holding on to it over your shoulder, giving you a feeling of being protected. And basically forced you to stare into his chest. As you exited the train after a rather long ride at a station you’ve never been to before, he put his hand into the smallest of your back, guiding you towards the exit and standing closely behind you on the escalator. Unwillingly your heart skipped a beat because it was the first time he physically touched you. 

Stepping out of the station you looked around, shielding your eyes from the sun using your hand. Yet there was nothing to see. Where ever he brought you seemed to be just a typical area were people lived. Went to work in the morning and returned to in the evening. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asked, looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You deny his question and say that you’re just really confused why he wanted to show you a a suburban area of the city you both lived in.

“You wanted to know what the bag is for. I’ll show you.” He walked a few steps, then turned around when he noticed you weren’t following him. “Come on!”

So you went. And followed him. Like a shadow, once again, slowly observing his moves and actions, how he talked to the people. How he wasn’t the nicest or most polite person at work talking to his coworkers but smiled at the owner of the book shop were he went to pick up an order. You saw his eyes wrinkle as he laughed at a joke and how his eyes light up when they talked about the development of the area for about a minute.

He put the book and the paper in his jute bag.

Then he went on to the dry cleaners, pulled out a coupon from his wallet and picked up two of shirts of his. Once again he took the time to chat with the owner. The elderly lady seemed delighted to see him and they talked just as if they have known each other for a long time. One time she looked past Nanami’s tall frame to catch a glimpse at you and asked who you might be. But he cunningly smiled and replied: “I will tell you some other time.” And winked at her and the lady giggled like a young girl. You wouldn’t trust your eyes. Nanami Kento, the grumpy guy from work was flirting with the owner from the dry cleaners. Who was this man. 

By the time you got to the market, the sun had long since started to set and cast long shadows over the busy vendors. 

“Would you hold this for me?” Nanami asked and handed you the shirts wrapped in plastic foil. During the past one and a half hour you barely said a word to each other. But now he asked you all kinds of questions, while also chatting with the vendors and filling the jute bag on his shoulders with fruit, vegetables and all kinds of other groceries.

“Do you like fish? Or do you prefer vegetables?”

“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“How about anchovies?”

“Oh look, they got tomatoes, don’t they look just great?”

He bought bread from a small bakery at the corner of the market, strawberries from another lady in wellies and a hooverette. When she saw you following him at every turn like a little duckling, a big smile grew on her face, making her eyes disappear in a bunch of wrinkles and she gave him some extra fruits for you to try. 

[…]

“So why were you carrying that bag exactly? To run errands?” You ask him, leaning back and eyeing him from across the small table in his kitchen. He twirled the stem of the wine glass between his fingers and scoffed.

“No, honestly I wanted to take you running errands with me for while so I always took the bag in case I would manage getting you to accompany me. But the opportunity just never presented.”

The honesty of his words surprised you and caused you to raise an eyebrow. “Why did you want to run errands with me?”

“Because I am a different guy with the people of my community. Of course I could have told you but how classy is that really? Showing you would be much more impressive.”

You hold up your glass to watch the light refracting in the most different shades of red. “That’s a fair point. Laos I probably wouldn’t have believed you.” His laughter chimed through the kitchen and out the open window, where the wind got hold of it and carried it away. 

“You know, people tend to mistake me for someone sort of person that I am not for most of the time.” You nod and he resumed impishly like a little boy: “On another hand I wanted to show you were I live.”

“You wanted to lure me into your place?”

“Yes.” Nanami admits and laughs. He leaned back and thrummed on the table using his thumb. After you had finished the shared dinner he prepared for you after coming home he had  crossed his legs and pushed up the glasses to rest on his hair.

“What for?”

You take your eyes off the shimmering wine in your glass to search for an answer in his eyes. The flashing blue eyes, so wonderfully complemented by the shirt he chose to wear today. Narrow light blue stripes. To your surprise there was nothing to search for. Because Nanami was already spelling it out for you.

“To let you know how much I like you.”

Masterlist

@sagedevans @shampoocifer @your-consulting-fangirl

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #Nanami kento #jjk imagine #jjk fluff #jjk head canon Nanami kento #nanami

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 2

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! This is kind of consuming me so you’ll be getting these pretty often, I hope! thanks to @sancocnutclub for all her encouragement ;)

rated T / 2.2k words / part 1 / AO3

He didn’t wake until mid morning the next day, and was still fairly fatigued, but otherwise felt alright—just a bit tender about the middle. 

A shower helped dissolve most of the lingering soreness, and he took some time in front of the mirror to look for any changes. 

Given that his stomach had never returned to its previous hardened state, it was hard to notice any discernible change in shape, but when he poked around, there was definitely a rounded area that hadn’t been there before. 

He also took a moment to memorize his body as it was; it wouldn’t be long before the babes made their presence visibly known, and the changes that happened while pregnant with Hope were still fresh in his mind. He was both glad that Belle was keeping track of his stats, and already dreading it. 

But she was probably waiting for him, so he needed to get a move on—and something to eat; he was starting to feel peckish, but couldn’t tell whether or not it was more than usual. 

His normal jeans still fit comfortably, albeit a hair snug. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d relish it while it did. At least his shirts would last longer; he’d found a new appreciation for the forgiving cotton knits of this realm in his second trimester. 

Emma was already at the station when he got downstairs, but she’d left behind plenty of pancakes, and he ate a few more than normal; he wasn’t sure how to interpret that. 

Before heading to the library, he went to pick up Hope from her sleepover with her grandparents. David greeted him at the door, with tiny Ruth asleep on his chest.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, hardly able to keep his eyes away from Killian’s midsection.

“Fine, as far as I could tell. Weird, but fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, thankfully, but I’m sure there will be plenty of aches and pains later.”

David winced. “Man, am I glad they asked you and not me. This one was enough,” he said, patting Ruth’s back gently.

“I don’t disagree, but…”

“But you feel like you owe them,” David finished. 

“Aye.”

“Well, I think it’ll be the other way around by the end of this, but we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“I appreciate it—and I’m sure we’ll need it with this one,” he replied, nodding at Hope, who was attempting to escape out a window.

She was easily wrangled, though, and happy to see him. He had no idea what fairy infants were like, but if they were half as charming as his daughter (who definitely took after her grandfather), this whole town would revolve around them.

As he thought, Belle was waiting for him, tape measure in hand. “Seriously?” he griped as he set Hope down next to Gideon in the playpen behind the circulation desk.

“You can’t possibly be surprised,” she threw back. “But if it’s any consolation, I won’t do it again until next week.”

“You only did it monthly last time around.”

“You were only carrying one babe.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Though his waist measurement remained unchanged, his weight was slightly higher (more than could be expected by a few extra pancakes). “I can feel it,” he confirmed when she asked. “There’s definitely something in there, though I only notice it if I go looking for it.”

Belle made a note and then flipped back and forth between some pages. “That matches up with when you found out you were expecting Hope; so do your measurements, and that was, what 8 weeks?”

“Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Second pregnancies do show sooner, too.”

“Especially this one,” he grumbled. 

“Oh yeah,” she agreed.

The day continued normally, although his hand did gravitate to his stomach pretty often, without thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, he still knew what was there, and his subconscious seemed to have already set out to protect it—that, or his hormones were already starting to affect him. 

Based on his reaction when Emma arrived that afternoon—particularly to his train of thought when she bent down to pick up a napping Hope—it was definitely hormones. His jeans felt a very different kind of tight then; something he acted on later that night, after a slightly larger than usual dinner. 

“Those hormones kicked in fast,” a sated Emma breathed as they came down from their shared high. “You haven’t been that voracious since we found out we were having a girl.”

“Are you complaining?” he panted. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” And they went for another round. 

In fact, he was so insatiable the next couple of weeks that, despite his elevated appetite, no other discernible change in his weight was noticed; his waist actually went down a bit.

“Are you feeling alright? Keeping food down and everything?” Belle asked, worried, as she recorded his 2-week measurements, comparing them to his 10-week from his first pregnancy. “Last time, you couldn’t eat more than chicken rice about now.”

“Trust me—I feel more than fine,” he assured her. “Were it not for Emma’s implanted contraception, we’d likely need to be planning for a more traditional pregnancy.”

“That’s a very eloquent way of saying you can’t keep your hands off your wife.”

“I could have phrased it crudely—how many synonyms for ‘sex’ did you want Gideon to learn today?”

“None!” she exclaimed, covering her son’s impressionable ears. He was at the age when he repeated anything said around him—a fact they noticed when Gideon’s favorite phrase became “bloody hell.”

“What are uncles for, though?” he teased with a wink. 

Belle just groaned and threatened to teach Hope how to read with romance novels. Killian, however, was just glad she slept through the night so she didn’t interrupt the real thing. 

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

Where there had been some hubbub about town during Killian’s first pregnancy—and quite a lot of gawking—no one seemed as shocked this time around. They’d made no effort to keep it a secret, letting the Storybrooke rumor mill do its job, but either the town was more aware than Killian had been about fairy reproduction, or they had become jaded to such magical oddities (he assumed the latter).

That said—he had to assume the gawking would eventually return. 

Especially with the way Granny was feeding him. To be fair, she wasn’t letting him overindulge, but he’d noticed his portions were larger, and the amount of vegetables increased. He wondered if Blue had given her some nutritional instruction, or if it was just her innate grandmotherly instincts. 

The first time she slid an extra helping of broccoli over, he tried to protest, delicious as it looked. 

“Oh no—eat up, young man,” she commanded. “If my math is right, you’re eating for 10. I should probably be feeding you more, actually.”

Emma snickered next to him—they were on lunch break from the station—but he wasn’t sure if it was at Granny’s tutting or the fact that Killian had just realized the magnitude of…well, all of it. 

So when Granny slid some extra onion rings across the counter, he didn’t complain (but obviously shared them with his wife).

He wanted to blame it on those extra treats—onion rings, fries, pie, muffins—when they noticed an expansion in his waist measurement at 3 weeks, but it was definitely the babes; he could still wear his normal jeans, but was seeing some rounding behind his navel. 

And at 4 weeks—a month since the babes were transferred—it could finally be deemed a bump: there was a gentle curve to his whole stomach, from just under his pecs to his hips (which had been aching a bit as they widened some, likely in anticipation of the heavy load to come). Given the way he and Emma’s evening activities hadn’t slowed, he knew it was all the babies. 

Belle hummed as she compared the notes she’d just taken with those from last time. “Well, that’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Emma asked; she’d joined them for that week’s check in, curious to see where things were.

“This week’s measurements match up with those from the end of the first trimester last time, which I suppose isn’t a huge surprise, but…”

“But I have a lot more to go than two trimesters,” he finished.

All eyes were on his stomach for a long while after that, likely all wondering the same thing: just how large would he get?

The only thing that took their attention away was the ringing of the bell over the door as someone arrived—Blue, it turned out. “Hi,” she greeted, clearly trying to be casual. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d stay away from him for the duration of the pregnancy, although he had expected more subtle surveillance.

They chatted briefly about how he was feeling, and she studied his stomach with an outstretched hand, he assumed to do her own magical assessment. “Yes, they seem to be doing quite well; that’s good.”

“Did you think they weren’t?” Emma quipped.

“No, of course not,” Blue assured her. “Would it be odd to express my excitement?”

Well, they all understood that. “How long has it been since your last brood?” Belle had to ask.

“Over fifty years,” Blue answered. “They’re usually every five to ten, depending on the solstice.”

“And when you don’t have a series of curses in the way,” Emma added.

Blue glanced over Belle’s notes with interest. “That does seem to match up with past broods, though I don’t think anyone ever thought to take such detailed notes.”

“Are there any?” Belle asked. “I don’t have anything here, but if you had some back at the convent, it’d be great for comparison.”

“I’d have to check our library,” Blue answered. “There might be a few scrolls, but we’re not much for recorded history.”

“I can tell,” Belle complained.

After some more chatting, Blue excused herself, but did ask if it was alright if she checked in periodically.

“Of course,” Killian said. “It’s your brood. Plus, I’m certain we’ll need to take you up on the offer of help sooner rather than later, if this is where I’m already at after only 4 weeks,” he added, gesturing to his still-small bump.

“Absolutely,” Blue said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled her wand out of nowhere and twirled it at Killian’s midsection. His skin grew warm for a moment, but then returned to normal. “I’m not sure if the original spell will account for the size, as far as how it treats your skin; that should eliminate any damage.”

“No stretch marks?” he wondered.

“No—not any new ones, at least.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

She then left as quickly as she appeared.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to get used to,” he sighed, and then they went about their day. But he was starting to grow very concerned about what lay ahead for him; he knew this wouldn’t be a small feat, but was worried it would be more than he could handle.

As time progressed, his bump steadily grew, though not unnaturally so. At 5 weeks, it was yet more noticeable; at 6, he finally had to concede defeat and dig out his maternity jeans, though they were still plenty roomy. By the end of the second month, he wasn’t quite where he’d been at the end of his second trimester, but it was definitely a baby bump—roughly where he’d been around 24 weeks with Hope, even though he was only at 8 with this one.

It was around then, though, that he noticed the first flutterings inside. He thought he’d noticed it the week before, but chalked it up to gas or something like that; Granny had been feeding him a lot of black beans lately. But late one night, after yet another glorious session of lovemaking, Emma’s hand had drifted to his belly and even she took notice.

“Wow, they’re actually starting to move in there, huh?”

“Seems like it. You don’t suppose they actually have wings already, do they?”

“Normal babies hardly have limbs at this stage, so probably not.”

They lay peacefully in the afterglow for a bit, before he asked quietly, “You are okay with this, right?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ask, nor was it likely to be the last. But it was a large undertaking and though she hadn’t exactly protested, he knew it wasn’t something she’d have volunteered for.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Even if this was partly fueled by guilt, I know you probably would have agreed anyway, and that big heart is why I love you so much. And can I say something else?”

“What’s that, love?”

“I was so attracted to you with that baby bump last time, even when you thought you were massive. So as long as your libido holds out, I think we’re both going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, I think I might need some convincing.”

“Then let me show you.” And oh, she did.

Gods, he prayed he’d be able to do that for a while. The next several months were going to be very interesting.

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 8 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Things might be starting to come together this week! Let me know your predictions.

This chapter talks extremely briefly and ambiguously of Emma not exactly wanting to have sex with Neal. Also, there is a discussion of Killian’s semi-violent past. Nothing is detailed, but let me know if you need more information or anything!! 

Rated M

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~~~~

The days turn into weeks, although Emma can’t help but feel as though time is dragging her along mercilessly. Nothing has changed since she found out about Neal, how he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys. Nothing, aside from her feelings of safety and security, of confidence in her relationship, being completely shattered. 

 Every night, she fights off the desperation to walk across the hall and join Killian in his bed, letting his strong arms consume her and blanket her with a sense of ease and contentment. Every night, she fights with herself as she crawls into bed with Neal, a man she thought she loved, and forces herself to put on an act of affection towards him. She forces herself to lie back and accept his convoluted attempts at showing her that he loves her, knowing that he couldn’t possibly. If he loved her, he would never have lied to her. If he loves her, he would let her go. 

 She also fights with herself through the anger she feels, directed inward rather than at anyone else. Sure, she’s mad at Neal for what he’s done, what he’s putting her through, but at the end of the day, she’s the fool to let herself be put in this position. It’s her fault. She should have seen through his lies from the moment she met him, but she was too desperate for love and family and acceptance. He knew that, too, and he exploited her weaknesses like she meant nothing to him. 

 It drives her mad to not know what he’s after. She’s hardly the most skilled person at finding people who don’t want to be found, so why he feels the need to target her specifically, she can’t say. It could be argued that, in some perplexing, psychotic way, he thinks he loves her, but she knows now that this isn’t love. It can’t be. 

 Lying at his side, wide awake through her inability to sleep, she can’t seem to shut her mind off. Each time she closes her eyes, she feels terror at the memories burned behind her lids. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Neal on top of her, despite her resolve to squeeze her eyes shut each time he decides he wants to be with her. Usually, she’s able to go to another place, letting thoughts of the beach or her happy future serve as a distraction of her fear, but sometimes she can’t ignore the feeling of his rough fingertips burning her skin. 

Sometimes, when she’s in Neal’s arms and struggling to get past the feelings that come along with being with him, she thinks of Killian. Not necessarily in a way of longing for him-- not because she wishes she was with him instead, although she can only assume it would be more pleasurable-- but because of the comfort that he always brings her. Being with him is like being embraced by warmth and safety itself. It’s like the rest of the world turns off, and all that’s on her mind is the soothing way his arms wrap around her and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. She doesn’t have to worry when she’s with him. She only has to think about how good it feels to be in his arms. 

 And she’s noticed his physique, too. It would be difficult not to. She noticed that first night, when he lifted his sweatshirt off and pulled his t-shirt up with it. She noticed the other day when he visited her in her cave of an office, leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, muscles bulging out of his sleeves and a tempting smirk coloring his lips as he teased her over the dinosaur of a computer she was working on. She notices the way he looks with almost everything he does, and she knows it's a dangerous game that she’s playing. 

 It’s not like she never found Neal attractive. But knowing what she knows now, she can’t help but to feel slightly nauseated every time she sees his face. She’s got to get out of this. 

 ~~~~

 “Since you did such a good job with the last one, I have another little task for you,” Peter says, his voice teasing and his smirk unsettling. 

 Emma works hard to maintain her composure as she sits straight up in her seat, one she was finally awarded after weeks of standing awkwardly before the group sat at the table. Today, when she walked into the daunting conference room, Peter invited her to sit beside him, beside Neal, and has been leaning towards her in a way that she knows is meant to appear polite, but holds a threatening undertone.

 “Okay,” she agrees, trying to make her voice sound confident and fighting off the fear that never seems to go away. 

 He turns from her to Neal and remarks, “she really has begun to come into her own, hasn’t she?” 

 “I guess,” he shrugs, and a part of her feels offended at his nonchalance. Despite her strong desire to be anywhere but here, she thinks she’s done a pretty nice job of trying to fit in. Ever since Gold spilled the beans a few weeks ago about Neal’s status in the club, she’s held it together fairly well on the outside, with the exception of her initial breakdown. 

 There’s only one person she truly feels comfortable breaking down in front of. Only one person who she really trusts. 

 She hasn’t told Neal that she's found out his true identity. She and Killian have talked about it at length, sometimes able to spend time alone together especially when Neal leaves, and they’ve agreed that it’s for the best to keep her discovery under wraps. Gold’s subtle drop that Neal is his son and brother to Peter was purposeful, and she can’t let him come out on top. She knows, she’s terrified, but she’ll maintain her composure. For whatever reason, Neal doesn’t want her to know, so she’ll keep playing dumb. 

 “Who do you want me to find?” she asks, wanting nothing more than to prevent Neal from saying anything else casually offensive. His small digs at her serve a purpose, she now knows; to bring her down as far and as quietly as he can. 

 “This one may be a bit more of a challenge; a member from a rival gang. While Graham was more of a nomad, this man has ties to the Kings of Elsinore and is better protected. I want you to find out everything you can on him.” 

 “Okay,” she nods assuredly. “Well, I'll take whatever you have on him and get to work, then.” 

 Before she can move from her seat, Peter’s hand is on her wrist, oppressively holding her still. “Not so fast. There’s someone I’d like you to officially meet. Call in Hook.” 

 A man Neal knows, Walsh, she thinks, stands from his chair and walks towards the door, summoning someone inside. She has to stop her jaw from hitting the floor when she sees who. 

 “You two seem to have met casually, but I’d like you to officially meet Killian Jones. He’s gotten himself into a touch of trouble and, as punishment, will be helping you with whatever you need until this man is located.” 

 She gulps, anxiety setting in again despite how hard she’s been trying to keep it at bay. She promised herself she would be strong, refusing to let them get to her, to let them see her squirm. She will keep her promise to herself. “Okay,” she murmurs, forcing herself to peel her gaze from Killian’s. She can’t help but wonder what he’s done to get into trouble with Peter. She selfishly hopes they weren’t caught without her knowledge. 

 ~~~~

 “What happened?” she begs desperately once the door to her small office is shut, Killian ushering her into the room before practically slamming it. “What are you in trouble for? Killian, please tell me they don’t--” 

 “Nothing like that,” he hisses, stepping towards her. With a soft, gentle voice only just above a whisper, he says, “love, you have to stay calm. You did phenomenally pretending we don’t know each other well, but we have to keep up the ruse.” 

 “Sorry,” she whispers. “I know, I just… what happened?”

 “Nothing, love, I promise. I only refused to go on a trip with them last week and Peter feared I wasn’t dedicated to the club’s cause.” 

 “You did?” she asks in surprise. When Neal told her that he wasn’t dedicated, she forced herself to believe him. When Killian says it, she doesn't even consider doubting him. 

 “Aye. Told them I had pressing matters to attend to.” 

 She cocks her head suspiciously and asks, “what were the pressing matters?” 

 “The Mummy Returns was on TV, remember? We watched it together.” 

 She can’t help the smile that breaks across her face, a snort escaping her throat despite her best efforts as she shakes her head and feels a blush creeping up her neck and pinkening her cheeks. “You’re dumb,” she says, and she feels like a child in a playground with a school crush. 

 “Well,” he shrugs, giving her a beaming smile. “Here, love. I’ve got the information we have so far. Time to start digging.” 

 A part of her almost wants to take her time, content to sit in the small office with Killian sitting beside her for quite some time. No one would suspect a thing, what with Peter already telling her that this guy would be harder to find; it’s the perfect excuse to soak in all of the comfort and happiness that Killian brings her despite her circumstances. But she knows they have to keep up appearances so as to avoid being caught in their elicit friendship, so she’ll work at a normal pace and hope no one notices that her smile is genuine rather than the forced one she gives Neal. 

 James Spencer is certainly a hard man to find. If she didn’t already know that he was linked to the Kings of Elsinore, she would be lost, as the man seems entirely enigmatic in nature. He seems like a ghost, her research pointing her absolutely nowhere, but Peter insists that he’s got ties to this rival club, despite her finding no evidence to support his claim. 

 She groans after a few hours, dropping her head to the desk as Killian continues to bounce a tennis ball off the wall in his boredom. It certainly is a punishment for him; the fact that he has to sit here and watch her find nothing is likely eating him alive. “It’s only been a few hours, love, you’ll find something soon,” he tries to console. Her frustration wins out, though. 

 “This is stupid.”

 “Aye.”

 “Are all of these stupid gangs this hard to navigate around?” 

 “Aye, I'd assume so. Although, I've never been a bounty hunter.” 

 She rolls her eyes, picking her head up and glaring. “I wasn’t a bounty hunter. I was a bail bondsperson.” 

 “That’s different?” 

 She holds her hands out, requesting the ball from him and catching it when he tosses it, only to throw it back at him with too much aggression. He yelps and laughs at her too loudly, and she can’t help but smile in response. She settles back into her chair after the short reprieve and sighs. 

 “How can I find someone who doesn’t want to be found if I know absolutely nothing about the environment he lives in?” 

 He hums in agreement, nodding and remarking, “you need an inside man.” 

 “No, I just need to know how a fucking motorcycle gang works,” she grumbles. It’s been a confusing few weeks, and she realizes that, while she’s gotten a few small bits of information, she still has no idea what the club’s actual purpose is. “Like… why even bother having one?” 

 He gives her a soft smile, standing from his chair and dragging it closer to her. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?” 

 “What?” she asks indignantly, giving him a look that she seriously hopes conveys how annoyed she is. 

 “Your little tantrum, love,” he teases. “Is it really about not knowing enough about how gangs work? Or is it, perhaps, more about your need to know everything about a situation in order to convince yourself that you’re safe?” 

 With another glare shot his way, she drops her jaw in surprise and shakes her head. “What the hell do you know?” 

 He smirks. “I know a lot more than you think. You’re a bit of an open book, love. And I’ve known you long enough now.” 

 “To what, psychoanalyze me?” 

 “I may have considered studying psychology, had I gone to university,” he laughs. “I know you’re scared, and I'm beginning to realize that not knowing what’s going to happen, or what’s happening without you knowing, is probably feeding that fear.”

 With another heaving sigh, she drops her head back down, resting it on her arms and nodding. “You’re right,” she concedes, although part of her wishes he wasn’t. It’s true, though, being so in the dark about everything is making her feel weak. 

 His hand lands on her shoulder, staying there for a moment before he gently and slowly scratches his fingertips against her skin and pulls away. “I can tell you what I know, if that’ll help.” 

 She perks up, lifting her head and recalling a conversation from weeks ago in which he told her that his brother was an influential member of the club. “Yes,” she says, and why she didn’t think to ask earlier, she doesn’t know. 

 He gives her a nod and another one of his encouraging smiles, the one that always makes her heart skip a beat, and clears his throat. “What I know is that Neal is older, but Peter is in charge. From what I gather, and I was never privy to much, Neal went off on his own for a while and Peter took over everything. Gold’s always seemed a bit more… hesitant around Peter, but I almost suspect that he favors Neal. Either way, Peter was running things behind the scenes for quite some time before Neal left. When he came back, it was with you on his arm and with Peter happily leading, refusing to give up his spot. No one argued with him.”

 She nods, but it doesn’t tell her much. She’s always known that Neal is more of a follower, happy to do whatever he can to impress his friends. The fact that he willingly gave up what seems to be his birthright doesn’t really surprise her. 

 “So what are they doing when they go away on their trips?”

 “Usually seeking out merchandise. They deal in stolen goods, mostly watches and the like. Typically, a trip is a heist of some kind. A jewelry store, antique shop… sometimes even banks with safe deposit boxes.” 

 Emma looks down to her own wrist, Killian’s gaze following closely behind, and notes the watch she wears. The one that Neal gave her after one of his trips. She shudders and moves to take it off. 

 His hand stops her, looking into her eyes deeply and shaking his head. “Keep it,” he murmurs. “We can’t let them know that you know any of this.”

 “Why?” she asks in a whisper. “Why is it so bad if I know?”

 “I don’t know,” he shakes his head again. “But if Neal hasn’t told you, there’s a reason for it.”

 She nods in understanding, letting her heart rate slow as his hand remains on her wrist, moving down to the top of her hand. She wants to wrap her fingers around his, but she knows she shouldn’t. “Can I ask something about you?”

 “Of course.”

 “Why do they call you Hook?”

 His eyes drop from hers, glancing down at their joined hands, and she watches his brows knit together tightly. She feels his grip on her hand tighten, and despite both of them knowing it’s a bad idea, his fingers weave with hers and he squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. 

 “There are things about my past that… that when I think about telling you, I become…” he sighs, unable to finish his thought. 

 “Killian,” she whispers, “I already know you’re in a gang. Can it really be that bad?”

 “Aye,” he answers immediately, his eyes meeting her own in a desperate attempt to convey to her something she can’t quite read. “I’m not… a good man.”

 “Of course you are.”

 “No. Maybe I’ve never thrown knives at a woman I’m supposed to love, but I’ve certainly… I mean…”

 “Killian.” Her grip on his hand, the one she should release, tightens. “Whatever happened… you’re not that person. You’re good. I know bad people and I pegged you as good the second I saw you.”

 It’s as if he can’t meet her gaze, too ashamed of whatever it is that he’s done. Too fearful of what will happen if she finds out. He witnessed her finding out that Neal has been lying to her, and she wonders if he fears a similar response now. 

 “I don’t-- it’s silly,” he laughs. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

 “You can’t,” she whispers. After everything he’s done for her, everything he plans to do for her, he could never disappoint her. 

 He sighs, squeezing her hand once more before turning it over in his and drawing a line across her palm. “I was a-- an angry lad growing up. My father abandoned us, my mother died. I found myself seeking release. Ways to get my anger out. I was never taught anything productive.” 

 She stays quiet, letting him open up to her on his own terms and distract himself by tracing the lines in her palms. “I came here at fifteen. Gold recruited me for… well, to put my anger to good use, in his eyes. He used me-- he’s always been good at picking out someone’s weakness and exploiting it. Whenever he needed information out of someone, he would bring me along and I would…” he sighs again, taking a deep and grounding breath. “I had a favorite weapon,” he mumbles. 

 With a nod, she tries to stay calm, tries not to let fear overtake her. She was fearful of Neal when he held the knives and smirked at her, and of Peter when he pressed the tip of the blade to his finger and smiled. But when she presses her hand to Killian’s cheek and makes him look up at her, she feels no fear. She sees only truth and regret and a longing to be a different person. 

 “It was a hook?” she asks for clarification, but she can see the answer in his eyes. 

 “From Gold’s boat,” he croaks. “That’s usually where we would take… the people we were interrogating. But, Emma, it’s been years. Liam found out and put an end to it. I think that’s--”

 “What?” she asks gently as he cuts himself off, shaking his head painfully. 

 “I think that’s when things started going poorly for him.”

 He’s done so much for her. He’s soothed every ounce of pain she’s felt since she got here, since Neal sliced her cheek and he touched it tenderly. He held her together as she cried harder than she ever had before. He’s vowed to see her out of this danger despite the predicament it puts him in. And still, she feels powerless to help him. He’s sitting before her, broken and in anguish, and she can’t heal him like he has her. 

 All she can do is take his cheeks in her hands and promise him, “that was not your fault.”

 “Emma,” he breathes, his eyes pleading with her, for what, she isn’t sure. “He… he kept insisting I stay out of it. He kept holding me back, refusing to let me go, putting up a fight… I think they got tired of it, eventually. Of someone constantly questioning them and going against their word. He’d still be here if I hadn’t--”

 “No. You had no hand in what happened to Liam. And when this is all over, you’re gonna be able to leave too.”

 It’s bold of her to assume that it’s something he wants. He’s told her plenty of times that he wants to help her escape, but he’s never mentioned a desire to leave himself. It’s bold of her to assume that that’s in his best interest. But when she looks at the sadness and regret in his eyes, a part of her knows that it must be. 

 “I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment of silence, and she lets him cast his gaze downwards again. “I should have--” 

 “It’s okay, Killian. The things you’ve done in the past don’t reflect who you are now.”

 “Of course they do,” he nearly spits, clearly angry with himself as he pulls away and throws his head back. “I was a monster then. How can you not think of me as a monster now? I’m no better than Neal or Peter.” 

 “Don’t say that. Peter would probably do something like that now if he wanted to. Would you?” She lets her voice rise just the slightest amount, feeling more intensity than before and finding it necessary to convey to him that she doesn’t see him as a monster. 

 “Of course not.” 

 “And Neal… don’t even get me started. He nearly pulled his gun on me last week because I asked him where he was going. Would you do that?” 

 “Emma,” he says softly, finally looking at her once more, and she knows what he’s thinking. She knows he wants her out of his apartment; out of his life. 

 “You’re not a bad person,” she whispers, leaning closer to him just as he sits forward again, and they’re so close that she can feel his breath warming her nose. “I know bad people. You don’t qualify.” 

 He nods, his eyes deep and soulful as they bore into hers, and says, “I want to be a good person for you.” 

 No one has ever spoken to her like this. No one has ever expressed such a definitive desire to be worthy of her. No one has ever been so close to her and not made her instinctively want to pull away. And when she sees his eyes fluttering shut, his lashes touching his cheeks and casting long shadows in the dingy light, she wants to lean closer.

 She almost does, too, is tempted to close her eyes like he has and touch her lips to his, but there's a swift knock on the door and they spring apart so quickly that she kicks his shin, causing him to bend and silently groan. She cringes in apology as she jiggles the mouse to her computer, begging it to wake up before the knocker enters the room. 

 “Any luck?” Gold asks as he pokes his head in. 

 “None so far,” Killian answers easily, his persona shifting effortlessly and maintaining their cover. “Swan’s searching high and low, but we don’t know much about Spencer’s tactics yet.” 

 “And Hook’s been a help to you, Miss Swan?”

 “Yes,” she smiles, fighting the urge to lunge out of her chair and wring his neck for the name he’s given Killian and his insistence to still use it despite his obvious discomfort. 

 “It’s clear already that you have the club’s future in mind; I'm sure you’ll find something soon enough.” 

 She nods, staring as he walks away and cocking her head in confusion. “So weird,” she says softly once he’s gone, trying to remain quiet as he’d left the door ajar. 

 “What?”

 “That’s the second time he’s mentioned the club’s future, specifically. What does me finding this James Spencer have to do with the future of the club?”

 His response is a shake of his head, a slight roll to his eyes before he stills suddenly. His eyes widen as he looks down, then his brows knit together in thought, and she can clearly see the cogs turning in his mind. It’s like she’s watching him have an epiphany in real time. He looks up at her once, urgently, then he snaps out of it as if he’s remembering where he is, his demeanor shifting entirely as he smiles. “I’m not sure. The old man never makes any sense.” 

 “Killian…?” 

 “I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’ll just keep working on finding Spencer, alright? There’s no need to worry.” 

 For a brief second, she feels distrustful of him. It’s reminiscent of when Neal tells her not to worry about things that she couldn’t possibly understand. It’s like he knows something, but he doesn’t think she's capable of handling the truth of whatever it is. For a brief, fleeting second, she doubts him. 

 But she can’t let herself think like that. Neal lies to her to protect himself. Killian has been nothing but honest with her, wanting nothing but her safety. Truthfully, if whatever he’s discovered is bad enough that he doesn’t want to tell her about it, she isn’t sure she wants to know. 

~~~~

~~~~

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#Watch the Sunlight Fade #Captain swan fanfic #cs ff #sunlight ff #captain swan angst #captain swan fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #tw

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN:  Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV.  Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist.  hehehe. I love my playlists.  Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters:  Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language

Word Count:  5102

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field.  The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being.  One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far.  Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it.  It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her.  That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked.  And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it.  Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it.  From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more.  Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore.  So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand.  He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take.  “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him.  “Thanks.  You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce.  Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar.  She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement.  Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight?  She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed.  She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others.  It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her.  The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue.  Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in.  There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible.  Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied?  Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities?  The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow.  Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling.  He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk.  He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back.  Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak.  “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things.  Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job.  Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field.  This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh.  He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way.  He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background.  And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point.  It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them.  It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers.  Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’  I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words.  “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to?  No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them?  “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore.  Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then.  “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this.  Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed.  Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad.  Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was!  If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect.  Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly!  We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing!  It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset?  She didn’t even try!  Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us.  Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training.  But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her.  She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends.  And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her.  Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal.  She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training.  It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have.  Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased.  Pleased!  And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous.  I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much.  I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say.  Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you.  She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.”  There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head.  “Ow!  And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent.  I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh?  And what was it?  She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly.  Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it!  She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her.  Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate.  Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening!  But we could never prove it.  It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased.  It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work.  Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning.  And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh?  He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping.  He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became.  He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss.  He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area.  He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts.  If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building.  Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her.  Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her.  He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away.  She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she.  He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path.  After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random.  They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible.  Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her.  And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape?  Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing.  It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again.  Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much.  For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her.  He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room.  Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me.  In that spar on the training grounds.  But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi.  Let this play out a while longer, first.  This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation.  So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans.  I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly.  There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.”  Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble.  “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her.  We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are.  She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side.  Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed.  “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find.  Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly.  Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first.  I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look.  Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued.  “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times.  Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does.  It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself.  You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well.  Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out.  She had to have known someone followed her.  There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it.  But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know.  This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up.  “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink.  “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing.  He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it.  He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so.  With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking.  If anything, it only seemed more prevalent.  As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest.  He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry.  He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head.  He could worry about that, later.  First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

#levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #aot levi #levi snk #snk levi #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin levi #vampire!reader #levi x reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot levi x reader #levi x vampire!reader #captain levi x vampire!reader #levi ackerman x vampire!reader #aot levi x vampire!reader #levi fanfiction #levi fan fiction #levi fanfic #levi fan fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fan fiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fan fic #captain levi fan fiction #captain levi fan fic

[genesisrose74]

Christmas With the Karasuno Boys (HC’s)!!

Part 2: Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita, & Narita

Part 1 (Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, & Ennoshita) here!

A/n: Tumblr said my word count was too much so I’m splitting this bad boi up into two parts :p Enjoy!!

*****

Kageyama

This boy has a secret soft side for Christmas istg

He HATES showing it to other people on his team and shit

But holy bejeezus he is mesmerized by the holiday in every way possible

Lights, sweets, snow, just like,,, the general magic of December is the most awe-inspiring thing to him

Since he is still a sporty and pretty active mofo, you decided to fuel that on your holiday-themed date as Kags had noted that he’d never gone sledding before

Your jaw was on the FLOOR when he first told you because he would 10000% enjoy the hell out of it

And so you dragged him out to this popular sledding hill that you frequented as a child and taught him what to do

Not gonna lie, he was kind of nervous

“Well you’re experienced at it. I don’t wanna mess up”

🥺🥺🥺 bubby

“You won’t, Tobio! I can already tell you’re gonna be a sledding pro”

Feels a little better after that, but he asks you to help him out for his first run down the hill

He sits behind you with his arms secured snugly around your waist and his head nestled on top of your shoulder

Which would probably seem really funny to passerby because this boy is tol and intimidating in most other situations

As soon as the sled started down, Kags tightened his grip and made this cute little yelp of surprise

But you were laughing insanely hard at the combination of going really fast downhill whilst also having your boyfriend cling to you for dear life

And then when the sled stopped safely at the bottom he started to chuckle

FULL ON, GENUINE SOUND OF ENJOYMENT

That shit is rare

Y’all stayed at that hill for half the day because it was so fun

You got him a new, very high quality athletic roller for Christmas because his old one was just not cutting it anymore

And you also gave him this really cute bracelet with a volleyball, his jersey number, and a little strawberry milk set of charms attached to it

It matched this really pretty and subtle chain he’d bought for your birthday

His blueberry eyes got all wide with affection dfjdskfjsdk—

Got super blushy and couldn’t get a handle on his speech for a fat minute

He thinks you’re the coolest person ever no I do not take criticism

Geez you’re both adorable together, ideal “stoic boy becomes warmer during the holidays around his love” movie plot and I love it

Hinata

He is all in on Christmas. Not a chance this boy doesn’t get excited as hell

Will openly go into holiday mode as soon as November is over

Was secretly already listening to his Christmas playlist before then

He is one of the sweetest gift givers, that is FACTUAL

If you want something really badly, he will take notice and get it as your present immediately

He’ll also gift you an extra thing that’s handmade 🥺

Like some pastries that his mom helped him make, or a specially made basket of soaps with your favorite scents in it

It’s absolutely adorable and you cherish those ones especially

Is happy if you simply get him something; mans doesn’t care what it is

New practice volleyball? A brand new sweatshirt? Elated either way

You had seen an advertisement for a friendly match between Japan and Poland’s men’s volleyball teams, so you waited online on the ticket sales website until the minute it opened

Spoiler alert: you got some banger seats 😌✨

Shoyo may or may not have tackled you when he read the ticket details, letting out his excited giggle (you know the one)

“I can’t believe you got these, angel! You’re coming with me, right? You’ve gotta! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Gives you sweet little kisses between each individual ‘thank you’

“Of course I’ll go with you, Sho! I’m really glad you like it!”

He will give you the brightest smile of all time — that shit makes Christmas lights pale in comparison

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

RIGHT BACK AT YOU BBY

Hold his hands to warm up together when temperatures drop pls :)))

It’s become a weekly December tradition to watch a Christmas movie with Natsu at the Hinata household

She’ll sit in your lap while the three of you are cuddled under a blanket together, and Shoyo will lace his fingers with yours all discreetly

In conclusion, I am a sucker for holiday Hinata 🥺🥺🥺

Tsukishima

His room is decorated to the very minimum simply because his mom and brother had insisted on him being festive

You know those holiday instrumentals that are really calming and jazzy and stuff? Yeah, that’s the only Christmas music he will tolerate in his house

While he’s still got his usual icy demeanor, this blond bitch does get slightly less snippy with the Karasuno boys

Is always on the nose with getting you the exact thing you wanted for a present

Like,,, TO THE SMALLEST DETAIL

You don’t even have to bring that shit up beforehand, he just KNOWS

“Tsukki, how did you—?”

“It’s pretty obvious, with the way that one ad kept showing up on your phone.”

b r u h

How does he pay such good attention without even letting on??

As for his own present, you’ll usually get him two: one gag gift and one more serious gift

His dino plush collection size is partly due to the former’s contributions this time of year

Yes the dinos have names

You exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve with all the team (you made him go) and he saved your more serious one for last

It was a scarf that you’d gotten custom made, which had a Spotify code knitted into the fabric

Scanning the code opened the app to a playlist you’d created especially for him

He got pretty quiet when figuring it out and scrolling through the playlist

Would let out a certified Tsukki Nose Exhale™ when he came across certain songs

The more subdued reaction was expected because it’s Tsukishima

His little chuckles and warmer eyes were enough of a giveaway to tell you he very much enjoyed your gift

But on the walk home, he took the scarf and wrapped it around you both, and then brought his arm around your waist

“Thank you.”

You deadass almost combusted because it was so unexpected??

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Kei”

Way to respond calm and collected 😌👍

But on the inside your body was in freak out mode

He wears the scarf all the time jdfsklfjdsk

Yamaguchi

Take the most tooth rotting fluff you could imagine

And then double that and put a fucking cherry on top

That’s the equivalent of what Christmas is like with Yama Yama

Y’all are like kids in a candy store — literally

For your Christmas dates it’s all about sweets and shared giggles, so frequent trips to the candy and baking isles of the grocery store is a must

Making gingerbread houses, peppermint tasting (mostly trying those different and wild ass candy cane flavors), you name it and it’s there

Stomach aches? I don’t know her

Yeah you do but they go away with enough butterfly kisses 🥰

Tadashi is exceptionally good at decorating gingerbread houses for whatever reason

He put a poll on his instagram between yours and his final products and he won by a landslide

It’s not like yours was necessarily bad, more like he’s just an icing master

You also might have eaten too many gumdrops which left your rooftop lacking in ✨spice✨

But it’s okay because Tadashi donated some of his leftovers to you

He’s such a sweetheart uwu

Please for the love of everything get him something heartfelt as his present

You know those long distance bracelets for couples?

Basically if your s/o taps the icon on the bracelet it’ll send a little vibration to the other person’s as a notice that you’re thinking about them

This boy seeks constant reassurance, and you love to give him his deserved love and validation, so it was the perfect present

It takes a second for him to figure out what it is, but after reading the directions and testing it out, the most adorable smile erupted on his face

And then since you already had yours on, he tapped the little icon again with a giggle

“Hey there”

It becomes common habit to tap it at least once every couple hours

GOD HE IS SO CUTE

He is just so soft this time of year, give him all the love and he will return it tenfold ☺️

Kinoshita

This boy is absolutely an awkward cutie and an avid romantic

Give him the cliches and he will eat em up, no doubt

It naturally gets more apparent around the holidays

He’ll take you on pretty winter walks, give you lots of little gifts (while blushing a hell of a lot), and is just a professional at stumbling upon some mistletoe

Wow wonder how it got there, Hisashi

He’s quite a bit more confident when simply alone with you than in a crowded space

And that definitely shows when he takes you out on a secluded sleigh ride around town

Yeah you heard me

A fuckin’ sleigh ride

Horses and blankets and everything

Don’t even ask how he managed to pull it off, because he loves watching the cogs turn in your head and simply will not give you a straight answer

Of course there’s the nice driver guy who’s there, but in the back alone Kinoshita’s confidence goes 📈📈

Lots of flirting, tons of skimmed touches and shared giggles throughout the ride

I legitimately simp really hard for him

Anyways it was a gorgeous ride through town and super fun

On Christmas Eve you both exchange gifts together and tbh whatever you got him will leave him happy and flustered regardless

But when he opens the wrapping paper to find an entire set of vintage VHS tapes, he’s stunned

He owns a VHS (actually canon!) and honestly loves it to death, and the fact that you’d get him tapes of pretty high quality for his collection meant a lot

Gosh he’s so underrated but a definite sweetheart, give him all the holiday love

Narita

Another underrated bby 🥺

He’s so chill and is pretty open to anything during the holidays, so long as he gets to spend ample time with you, his friends, and his family

Definitely more of an indoor person despite being accepting of most situations

Hence why you thought a cute little indoor winter picnic would be right up his alley

Which it absolutely was 😌✨ nice work

You’d made plans while in secret communications with his family members about the whole thing

He’d been pretty stressed lately with trying to handle his schoolwork, while also helping out others with theirs

Despite being a wonderful tutor, it was clearly becoming a bit overwhelming as he tried to grapple with so much at once

So when he came home one day to find a pristine house with you settled on a blanket in his living room, he was quite surprised

There’s a cheese plate, soda cans in a cute ice box, sandwiches, snacks, a presparked fireplace — you and his family went all out

Really adorable I cannot lie

“I thought you said you were going gift shopping today?”

“I might have maybe lied :P”

So he gives the sweetest little smile and sits across from you

Y’all stay there and talk for hours

After finally getting through everything previously laid out on the blanket spread, you slid him a little rectangular box that he looked at curiously

“Already? I haven’t wrapped yours yet!”

“Mine can wait a bit! Just open yours”

And so he does, and you watch with a face-splitting grin as he looks down in awe

You got tickets to see his favorite rock band in concert while they were on tour

He sprung onto you and pulled you into the tightest hug ever

“Holy shit you’re the best I love you so much how do you get even more loveable every day—!?!l”

It’s a jumble of words but you’re able to put it together and it makes you giggle

He deadass sprints upstairs to go get your gift and make sure that you feel as equally appreciated as he does

In simple words: wholesome holiday sweetness 🥰

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu anime #haikyuu to the top #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #kinoshita hisashi #kinoshita x reader #kinoshita hisashi x reader #narita kazuhito #narita x reader #narita kazuhito x reader #haikyuu hinata #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu christmas

[inforapound]

The Devil Inside  -  Part 2

Your enthusiasm spurred me on to write chapter two last night. The teen talk continues. This part escalates alittle faster. I’ll post the last part next week. Thanks for reading.

Warnings -  sexually explicit, hints of dub/con, possessiveness, love

Pairing - Ivar x Reader  

The following week was mundane. Not once did you catch a glimpse of the black Camaro at school and you had spent every break out in the lot. For reasons you had yet to figure out, you could not stop thinking about him. Ivar... That entire night at his house and you analyzed, picking apart every moment. The way he looked at you, the mocking way he spoke, how he grabbed your wrist. It hadn’t hurt, but it was shocking. The one detail that stuck out the most, and the feeling that you couldn’t shake, was how even in a room with others, you felt him. Some pull or draw of your attention. Some dread or distraction. It was strange and by Friday, without seeing him at school, it wasn’t relief you felt, it was melancholy.

The girls noticed and chalked it up to PMS so you all decided to skip going home and headed straight for the mall. That was uninteresting and after a couple of hours of wandering shops, trying on rings at the kiosks, and hitting up the food court, you headed to HUBB City Movie Theatre to catch a flick.

Standing in line it was Kim who spotted them first.

“Heads up,” she spoke quietly, nudging your arm.

Turning around, you spotted Mark waiving, a huge grin on his face, with both Ivar and Hvitserk standing behind. Your stomach flopped and you must have made a face as Amanda leaned in.

“Dude, are you okay?”

“Fine, yea, fine.”

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“Didn’t that Ivar guy freak you out a bit last weekend?” Kim asked.

“Ah, I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. Maybe it was just me.”

“He is…. intense,” Kim added.

“My brother told me some guy at Oak Springs High owed the brothers money.” Amanda was using her ‘this was some juicy shit’ tone of voice, “and Ivar showed up, scared the crap out of him. Waived a gun around in the parking lot.”

“What!” you and Kim said at the same time.

Amanda arched her brows. “I don’t know...just telling you what I heard.”

A quiet settled over all of you and you casually glanced back at the guys. Mark and Hvitserk seemed to be discussing a poster on the wall but Ivar wasn’t even pretending not to look. Those haunting blue eyes were fixed right on you. It was a drastic change from last time and he seemed to be waiting, keeping track of how long it would take for you to acknowledge him. Unsure of how to act, you gave a quick half-smile before looking away.

“Too bad he’s a psycho,” Amanda whispered, “cause he’s fucking hot.”

You all burst out laughing and as you handed over your tickets and headed through the doors, you heard Mark call,

“Save us some seats, ladies.”

Great…… but fifteen minutes into the movie you figured they had decided on something else as it was just the three of you sitting in your usual seats; centre of the back row, directly beneath the booth streaming the film. Amanda was in the middle bitching about the cost of popcorn and you were feeling chilled in the large dark theatre, wishing you had headed home before the movie to get changed out of your uniform.

A commotion off to the side, followed by Mark’s not-so-quiet laugh made you all turn and look toward the isle on Kim’s side. Making their way down your row was Mark and Hvitserk; Mark shout-whispering that he thought you all were trying to hide by sitting up at the back. They must have been carrying $75 worth of snacks and you figured they had just gotten high.

Watching the entrance, you waited for Ivar to come through but he didn’t... He wasn’t there... Had he ditched, you wondered, feeling confused? Was it because of you? Were you disappointed? The moment brought back that anxious feeling of the previous weekend, the claws back in your tummy and you actually felt a little dissed.  

Oblivious to the film playing in front of you, it was the sound of clanging metal on your side of the theatre that made you turn and look. Shuffling toward you, down your row was Ivar, his crutch hitting against the metal feet of the chairs in front.

Fuck, you nearly gasped realizing he was planning to sit with you and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you shifted in your seat unsure if you were nervous or excited. Had he really flashed a gun? No. Stupid. He couldn’t have.  

When he got close, his scent hit you like a memory and you recalled that subtle smell of aftershave in his bathroom. Unsure if you should say hello, you were let off the hook as his eyes looked everywhere but at you. Holding a massive drink in one hand and his crutch in the other, he stopped and awkwardly sat down.

You were struck by the subtle look of insecurity he had, guessing that without his badass car or his parentless mansion, he felt out of place. His discomfort made you panic alitte pushing you to say something.

“Hey,” you whispered, and he looked over as if surprised; his reaction making you smile. The smile was not returned but the look in his eyes removed all doubt of whether or not he was pleased to see you. He was. Ivar Lothbrok smiled. Almost shyly and you NEARLY DIED.

Turning back and trying to watch the film was ridiculous. There was no way you could absorb a thing with him sitting beside. Again, that expectant feeling hung in the air and you, like that first night, were hyper-aware of him; his movements, his arm slung on the rest of your chair, every time he shifted. And... he looked good...really good...downright wicked in fact and you glanced over to catch another look. The light was flickering against his smooth skin and pouty lips and you just wanted to see that smile again. Looking back to the screen, you attempted to pay attention.

Just as you began to absorb the words the actors were saying, he passed over his drink, his eyes staying fixed on the screen. Accepting it, you to took a sip from the straw and were not surprised to taste the sweet mix of some sort of pop and booze. The taste nearly made you cough and you passed it over.

With his hand, he pushed it back toward you making you frown. Did he think you drank every weekend? Was he trying to get you drunk?

Suddenly, he leaned in, bringing those lips close to the side of your head.

“Are you that much of a good girl?” he whispered and the reverberation of his voice made you shiver.

You turned to look but he didn’t pull back so your faces were close. Very close.

“I’m driving,” you whispered.

Rolling his eyes, he sat back in his chair and the impression you got was that he wouldn't be leaving you alone for long. It felt tense and you somehow thought getting his attention again might smooth out the static.

“I didn’t see you at my school this week.”

That drew him back. His head snapped over and he just looked at you. The scene changed in the movie and the light in the room brightened; his blue eyes were narrowed and you wondered what he was trying to figure out.

Without a word, his gaze lowered and you watched him rake his eyes over the open neck of your white blouse, your blue cardigan, and the skin of your thighs exposed above the hem of your kilt. With no one sitting in the row in front, you had put your feet up, tucking your toes into the seat. Suddenly, the bare skin of your legs felt elicit. Dropping your feet would have been too obvious so you hugged the folded blazer in your lap a little tighter.

Rolling his tongue in his cheek, you could see he was fighting the urge to smile and he leaned in again.

“Are you saying you missed me?”

Your stupid grin broke before you could think of what to say so as a distraction you reached down and grabbed his drink, taking another sip.

“Kiss me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question and you nearly choked.

“What?” you gawked.

Pulling back slightly, he eyed you, his expression was deadpan, almost daring you not to do as you were told. But, he did not wait long and brought his mouth right to yours, not pushing, just hovering close and you could feel him lick his lips. Fuck....was your last thought as you pressed your mouth to his.

Good lord was it ever gentle, not demanding and, and like that hunter in that song playing in his room that night, you sensed that he was holding back, drawing you closer.

That’s why when he broke the kiss first, there was a simper on his face, a smug look like he had just won. But, it was his large hand wrapping around your thigh that made you know it was only the beginning. He had it all wrong though. This was not something you did. You were a second base pro and that was only after a thousand texts, five hundred calls, and numerous dates out. You were not a fast girl from his world. Whatever that meant.

Glancing over at Amanda, her attention was fixed on the screen so you looked back at Ivar. Watching the film again, he jerked his chin, directing you to keep your eyes forward. Attempting to focus on the movie, you shifted your blazer on your lap to conceal his hold on your leg and he obviously took it as a green light. Slowly, he slid his palm further up, the tips of his fingers only stopping when they touched the fabric of your panties. God, this was crazy and you took a deep breath. Why were you playing along?

“Open your legs,” he glanced at you, speaking softly but it was still an order. “Do it.”

Frowning you mouthed the word no but at the same time shifted your knees apart.

“Good girl,” he whispered and you were shocked at how that small praise shot straight between your legs. Adjusting on the seat, you slid your bum forward as if offering yourself up.

Pleased, he smirked and you tried to ignore it, acting as if you were unaware of what he was doing.

Within a second, his finger started stroking you through the thin layer of cotton, slow and steady as if biding time. Showing his experience, he pushed the fabric to the side, his finger pressing between your folds. Jesus Christ, it was insane and you should have stopped him there but didn’t… instead, you tilted your pelvis up wondering if that would please him. And it did evidenced by his quiet, breathy grunt and you weren't sure if it was his approval or the feel of his slow strokes that had you getting so wet.

Smoothly, expertly he found that little buried spot and strummed like a string, making you flinch and close your eyes, grabbing hold of his wrist. You didn’t push him away, just squeezed and despite not seeing him, you again felt him lean close.

The smell of his alcohol-laced breath fanned over your face making that tickle down there begin to throb. Your mouth fell open and you were aware that your own breath was picking up. It was obscene, if not a little embarrassing how wet you were and just how fast he was bringing you to the brink.

He strummed and strummed and you wondered what instruments he could play. Guitar…. yes definitely guitar and just that idea was sexy bringing you even closer.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, “Cum for me.”

You were nearly there. How was it possible?

“Look at me,” he demanded and you barely had the sense to turn your head, your eyes cracked only alittle.

“Fuck,” he hissed, staring at you. “I wanna eat your pussy.”

All at once, his finger pushed inside you as his lips hit yours, his tongue shoving right into your mouth. Overwhelmed, and feeling pinned by his jaw, his finger pushed harder and his palm pressed against your clit. The image of him between your legs, lapping your wetness was a recipe for magic and your orgasm crashed over you.

You came hard, harder than you ever had, pulsating around his finger, your stomach twitching and your body frozen in place. Any sounds you made; whimpers, gasps were absorbed by his mouth, breathing you in and bringing you through. It was suffocating and borderline aggressive but so fucking hot and you wondered if the setting, the people around made it that much more intense.

As the quaking eased and you came back to your senses, he pulled his mouth away, pecking you on the mouth and cheek, and chin.

Carefully, he pulled his hand out from under your kilt and you quickly glanced over at Amanda. Smiling at something up on the screen, she seemed lost in the story. Thank god.  

Seeing Ivar wipe his fingers on his jeans nearly made you cringe but he seemed unphased, adjusting the crotch of his jeans before grabbing his drink from you that you completely forgot you were holding.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked in a whisper, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.  

His brows were pinched together making you hesitate, sensing, there was no right answer to give?

“Ah,” be aloof, you thought, be aloof. “Not… exactly.”

“Not exactly?” he squinted.

“Technically,” you scrunched your face awkwardly. “I am not a virgin.”

Holding your gaze for a moment, he sniffled, signifying the topic was done. Scooping your hand in his, he linked his fingers between yours and leaned close, pecking your lips softly and so unexpectedly sweetly.

“I was right about you. You are a good girl,” he nodded and turned his attention back to the screen just as the credits started to roll.

Already? The dim lights came on and you felt on the spot, wondering how you would flounder through this next part. Letting go of your hand, he grabbed his crutches and without a second glance, pushed himself up and started down the aisle away from you.

Ummmmm. Hello? What was going on?

Toward the end of the row, he glanced back and called,

“I’ll text you in a bit.”

And then he was off. Your mouth literally fell open.

“Catch you, ladies, on Monday,” Mark hollered on the other side, already halfway to the door, hopefully oblivious to all that had just transpired.

----

Once out of the theatre, you inhaled the fresh evening air, filling your lungs like you had never breathed before. You felt….lude having just spread your legs for some guy with your best friend in the next seat.

“Well,” Amanda, smacked her lips, sliding her blazer on, “That was special.”

And you knew she knew everything.

“What the hell was that?” she gawked as Kim joined, not saying anything but looking confused.

“God,” you covered your eyes, “I don’t know. I’m so sorry,” you looked at her, your shame spilling out onto the sidewalk.

“Who are you?” she frowned, “I’m so.. so…impressed right now.” Tipping her head back, she let out her best cackle. “For once I’m not the only one hooking up with randos on the weekend,” she laughed again.

She wasn’t quite that bad but next to her, you were Mother Theresa.

“Okay, who is hooking up with who?” Kim raised her hands, motioning that she needed to catch up.

“Did you see everything?” you asked, holding your breath.

“No...I actually saw nothing but I knew what was going on. Wait, do you like him? What don’t we know? Are you…like…with him now?”

“No!” you replied exasperated. “I don’t even know him.”

“Okay, who are we talking about?” Kim cut it, totally frustrated.

“Ivar!” you and Amanda answered in unison

“Whaaaa...” Kim said under her breath, really drawing it out. “That guy is bad news.”

“I know. I know,” you repeated trying to convince them…. and yourself.  

“Oh god, you like him,” Amanda squinted as if noticing something she hadn’t seen before. “Yep,” she nodded, “you do.”

“Do you like him?” Kim asked, not believing it.

“I don’t know,” is all you could say.

Taking a cigarette out, Amanda lit it and you and Kim, as usual, took a step back to get clear of the smoke.

“So,” she took a drag, “what message do you think it sends a guy, you aren’t sure you even like, when you let him finger you in a movie theatre?”

“Amanda!” Kim scolded but you all started to laugh.

“That no means sometimes...” you shrugged.

“What?” they said at the same time.

“Did he force you?” Kim asked, her face immediately concerned.

“No!” you threw up your hands. “No!” Wait, did he, you wondered for a second, quickly pushing it out of your head. “No, he didn’t. Let’s…let’s just go.”

Linking arms, the three of you walked in a line, heading back to your car. For numerous reasons, your head felt disconnected from your body.

-----

That night, lying in your bed, you looked at your phone but all was quiet. How stupid, you thought, he hadn’t even asked for your number. Scoffing in the dark, you pretended, unconvincingly, that you were not waiting for his text. Nothing was wrong. You were just bored, maybe a little lonely rebounding from your ex-jock boyfriend. Sighing, you flipped from your back onto your side, thinking how it had taken your ex an entire summer to get where Ivar had in one night.

Your phone chimed and you jumped, nearly knocking over your lamp to grab it.

It was Amanda…….

  AMANDA: Call me if you need me. Love you.

You felt like an idiot.

Nexr chapter

@youbloodymadgenius  @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales   @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog   @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies  @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @flowers-in-your-hayr @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @gearhead66 @blonddnamedhandz @lisinfleur @geekandbooknerd @xbellaxcarolinax @edythofhastings @ivarsgoddess @shannygoatgruff @where-beauty-goes-to-die @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @snatcherheart  @lordsexmachine @fuchsiagrasshopper @wilhhelmyna @heavenly1927​

#modern ivar #ivar au #ivar fanfic #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar and reader #ivar imagine #ivar smut #ivar teen romance

[jekde04]

A Glimpse of the Future

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 3,253 words

Summary: Juvia had always wondered where exactly she stood with Gray. She finally got her answer when Gray came back from Edolas and saw someone he never expected. [Based on Chapter 66 of Fairy Tail 100 Years Quest.]

You may also read it on FanFiction.net or AO3!

Juvia ran to the guild as fast as her feet could take her. If she only knew they'd be back this morning, she wouldn't have taken that three-day job outside Magnolia that prevented her from taking her usual station at the table nearest the guild doors – the one she claimed for herself every time Gray would come back from a mission.

She barged right into Fairy Tail and shouted, "Gray-sama!" attracting the attention of a few guild members. Everyone was so used to her Gray-related antics by now that they no longer pay much attention to it. Max simply pointed to the direction of the infirmary with a kind smile and told her, "He's over there, Juvia."

"Thank you, Max-san!" Juvia gave him a clumsy bow before she dashed off to the infirmary, as if Gray might disappear any moment. 

After all, it wasn't like her fear was unfounded. The last time they were together, Gray's body suddenly glowed and disappeared to God-knows-where for days. Only the thought of the rest of Team Natsu being with him made Juvia calm down.

And now they were back, she could hardly wait to see her Gray-sama.

Slowing down as she approached the infirmary, Juvia pushed the door gently and peeked. Lucy, Natsu, Erza, Wendy, and Gray lay on each bed, all sound asleep. Quietly, she made her way towards Gray's bed, the one farthest from the door and nearest the window. She sat beside him on the mattress, the bed creaking a little. 

Though Gray looked a little roughed up – bandages wrapped around his naked torso and left arm, another bandage around his forehead, and a small gauze on his cheek – Juvia was glad his injuries were far from serious. It would take a lot for Gray-sama to become worse for wear, she thought with a smile.

Juvia gently clasped Gray's warm hand nearest to her. The action made him stir, and in a couple of seconds, Juvia found her eyes locking with Gray's still sleepy ones. "Juvia?"

"Gray-sama! Juvia's sorry to wake you up like that!" She immediately let go of his hand and cupped her reddening cheeks. "Juvia was worried, so she just wanted to check up on you. She's just glad to see you're safe. She will let you rest now." Juvia started to stand up but Gray grabbed her wrist, causing her to fall back onto the mattress.

"It's okay, Juvia," Gray said, giving her a small smile. "I was actually looking for you when I got back."

It never ceased to amaze Juvia just how much more vocal Gray had been these days. After years of pining for him and barely receiving a response, Gray being more open and receptive to her was something she still had to get used to. She didn't mind it in the least, but she still couldn't control the blush blooming on her cheeks whenever he said something remotely sweet.

"Oh, Juvia went on a solo job while you were gone," she told him. When Gray's eyes narrowed at her, she quickly added, "But it wasn't anything dangerous, Gray-sama! Juvia just had to conjure rain for this small town. It was an easy one, really. And it was something only Juvia can do." She winked at him for good measure – after all, Gray liked it when she acted cute sometimes. 

During the past year, Gray had become increasingly reluctant to let her go on solo jobs, always insisting to come with her even if it was just a simple three-hour job. When his team wasn't around, he would ask her to tag along with Gajeel, Levy, and Lily. Though Juvia cherished his newfound protectiveness, she wasn't too keen on following him because she was perfectly capable of defending herself. Suffice it to say it had been the subject of a number of their disagreements.

This time though, she wasn't in the mood to argue with Gray, so she quickly changed the subject. "But where did you go, Gray-sama? What happened to all of you?"

With one last glare at her, Gray let it slide and sighed. Juvia pursed her lips to suppress the smirk forming on her lips. She knew full well that Gray would bring it up the next chance he got, but it was still a victory for her, no matter how short-lived. 

Propping himself up on the bed so he was sitting against the headboard facing her, he answered, "We were transported to Edolas."

"Edolas! You mean, the world without magic? How?"

"Apparently, the White Mage brought us there because she needed our help, but I can't really go into details. You know we can't divulge anything about the 100 Years Quest."

Juvia nodded. "Oh, so it was part of the quest. Juvia understands and won't pry anymore." She patted his leg and added, "Juvia's just really glad that Gray-sama's back in one piece."

Gray grinned. "Of course. And we got a lot of help too from the Edolas Fairy Tail."

Juvia's eyes lit up. "Really? So you got to meet our counterparts there!" she said, clapping her hands together. She heard so many tales about their Edolas doppelgangers, especially about Edo-Gray pining for Edo-Juvia. She got so jealous about it that she even reverted to her old hairstyle just to try to get Gray to notice her. Sadly, it didn't make a difference.

"Uhh... yes," Gray replied sheepishly, cheeks reddening as he did so. 

She waited for Gray to continue, but when he didn't, she prodded him. "So, how was it? Did Edo-Gray finally get Edo-Juvia to love him back?"

Gray simply nodded, not looking Juvia in the eye. Is Gray-sama embarrassed?

Wanting to learn more, Juvia continued to question him. "That's great! So, they're now a couple?"

"Y-yeah. Well, kind of."

Juvia's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Is it like... ours?"

It was now Gray's turn to be confused. He looked at her, raising a brow as he asked, "Ours?" 

Juvia blushed as she looked away. Truth be told, she and Gray never sat down to have "the talk" before, as she always felt that Gray wasn't the type to put labels in a relationship – or even get into a relationship, for that matter. But the shift in their... whatever they had going on right now was apparent ever since their war with the Alvarez army.

For one, Gray had become more protective of her, not allowing her to go on solo missions he deemed dangerous (As if he had a say in that, Juvia thought smugly, though she appreciated the concern). Gray would also immediately cover her up or drag her somewhere private every time he realized she had once again stripped alongside him during their battles. 

And she couldn't deny that Gray had been spending a lot of time with her, whether on missions, in the guild, or even just some random day strolling at the park – eating caramade franks, laughing at each other's stories about their guild mates, with Gray insisting that "this is not a date" even as he walked her back home, his scowl getting bigger and bigger as they neared the doorstep of Fairy Hills.

And then there were those subtle touches and gestures, too small to notice if you weren't paying attention. But Juvia was Juvia, and she always paid attention to everything her Gray-sama did.

So she always felt those lingering touches on her elbow, her shoulders, and at the small of her back whenever they were walking together. She noticed those smirks that turned into smiles that he tried to hide whenever she said something amusing or did something cute. She basked at how he always sat a little too close to her even if there was still plenty of space on his other side, their elbows and knees touching. And there had been one too many times when she caught him gazing at her, eyes suddenly traveling somewhere else as his crimson cheeks betrayed him.

Juvia saw and loved all those changes. She couldn't deny how Gray made her feel special.

But if she was being completely honest, she wanted more.

She wanted him to talk to her more openly, so she didn't have to rack her brain just over analyzing his words. She wanted him to feel free to hold her hand whenever he wanted to, not just brush them against hers and get extra sulky when she wouldn't latch onto his arm like he was used to. She wanted to let everyone know that Gray was hers, erasing the fear that one day, he would just wake up and find a love rival who's a lot better than her.

Juvia wanted to know if they were on the same page. She wanted to know if they have a future together. 

But she also knew that she couldn't force Gray to take a step forward if he wasn't ready. So, Juvia did what she knew she did best for Gray – wait for him. Patiently.

"Umm, nothing, Gray-sama. Juvia just wanted to know what you meant when you said they were kind of a couple," Juvia stammered, internally chastising herself for almost forcing Gray to put a label on their relationship.

Gray just stared at her, as if debating in his mind what to say next. When he spoke again, it was in a low voice. "They're not like us... Actually, they're already married."

"Juveen!" Juvia shrieked and immediately covered her mouth, remembering that their friends are sleeping. She could feel her blood boil and all of a sudden, her face felt extremely hot. Against her will, her mind launched into an all-too-familiar scenario of the two of them exiting the church after their wedding, all their friends cheering at the lovely newlyweds. Gray would sweep her into his arms, lean her backwards, inch his face closer as she closed her eyes...

"Juvia? You there?"

Juvia's eyes snapped open – she drifted off to dreamland again with just the mention of marriage! Gray's hands were waving in front of her, his face a mix of concern and amusement.

"Juvia's s-sorry! It's just that... m-married..." Juvia stuttered, fidgeting on her seat. If the couples in Edolas are the same in Earthland, then does that mean that Juvia and Gray-sama would... She shook her head as her imagination threatened to run amok again.

But instead of giving him his usual scowl, Gray's lips curved into a small smile.

"That's not the best part."

Juvia just stared blankly at him. Is Gray-sama insane?! What else could be better than getting married to him?

"They... they have a son."

Juvia's jaw dropped as she felt more blood rush to her cheeks, and she fought the urge to squeal again. A son?! For Gray-sama and Juvia???

But instead of an equally embarrassed Gray, she was surprised to see him staring outside the window, a contented smile playing on his lips and a hint of pink on his cheeks. It was a completely new expression she hadn't seen in Gray before.

"You know... he has your eyes. Huge, dark blue ones, like you can just get lost in them. And your lashes, too. They frame his eyes so perfectly," Gray said as his eyes crinkled a little in remembrance. "His hair's like mine, though. Dark, but I think it had a tiny bit of blue in it. But a messy mop of hair like mine all the same." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh.

He finally returned his gaze on Juvia. "At first, I really freaked out. I mean, that's a kid right there – five, maybe six – who looks like you and me at the same time. It's so uncanny. He even acts all quiet and cool, it's like looking in the mirror.

"But then he blushed, and he... he's just so cute. Too cute for his own good," Gray said with a soft smile on his face. Juvia was so fixated on what Gray was saying that she didn't notice his hand intertwining with hers.

"He... he looks so much like you when he blushes. All shy and cute, like I just want to squish his tiny cheeks and kiss them." He was smiling widely now, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck – a habit Juvia knew he does when he was feeling shy.

"I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?" Gray locked eyes with her, and Juvia felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering in her stomach for a thousand different reasons. 

Maybe it was the fact that their Edolas counterparts were now married and had a family together. Maybe it was because she had never seen Gray like that before, so happy and at ease. 

Or maybe it was the possibility that this was the same future laid out for them: a happy marriage and an adorable son who was the perfect mix of both of them, in looks and personality. 'I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?' 

Could Gray-sama be thinking that far ahead... with Juvia?

She knew she could spend an eternity just watching Gray like that, but she had to remind herself that this was not actually their life. It was Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia's, not theirs. Right now, she wasn't even in a formal relationship with Gray. Her heart sank a little.

Forcing to tear her gaze away, she shook her head and brought herself back to reality. "That's... that's nice, Gray-sama."

Gray frowned at Juvia's sudden change of demeanor. He squeezed her hand and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Well, it's just that... it's Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia. It's not really us."

It took a few moments for Gray to respond. 

"Yeah, you're right."

They stayed silent for some time, Gray once again pensively gazing outside the window and Juvia looking down on her lap, busily fidgeting with her skirt. When he finally spoke, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Juvia... don't you want something like that?"

A mix of emotions rushed straight into Juvia's heart like a raging river. Shouldn't Gray-sama know by now that there's nothing else in the world that Juvia wants than to get married and build a family with him?

"Of course Juvia wants it!" she answered, a little too loudly. Checking herself, she added in a whisper, "It's just that she's not sure if that's what Gray-sama wants, too."

Gray looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "W-what? But I thought all these will eventually lead to that!"

"E-eh? Wha... What does Gray-sama mean?"

Gray drew a deep breath. "Juvia, I know I'm slow at these... things, but I'm sure." 

When she didn't react, he continued. "It may have taken me a while to get here, but I'm here with you. I'm here for the long haul. And seeing that boy Greige, well, it gave me a glimpse of what our long haul looks like." He took her other hand in his. "I mean, I've always known and felt that it's going to be with you, but seeing it, in the flesh, it... it made me more excited about what the future has in store for us." 

Juvia couldn't believe her ears as her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. Just a few moments ago, she was questioning herself whether this was what Gray really wanted, and now, here he was, telling her that they have a future together. Her eyes filled with tears as she grasped Gray's hands tighter.

 "Gray-sama wants... a future with Juvia?"

Gray averted his eyes and scratched his cheek with a finger, looking a little bashful. "Of course. Who else would it be?" he mumbled. Then he looked back at her, his eyes softening. "And frankly, I kind of want to start that future as soon as possible."

Steam shot out from Juvia's ears. She snatched her hands away from him and covered her chest. 

"E-eh?! Gray-sama wants to make a baby right now?" Juvia exclaimed, face as red as a tomato.

Gray flailed his hands in front of him, just as flustered as Juvia was. "N-no! Not right now, of course!"

She threw herself in his arms as he squirmed. "Juvia would love to! Juvia and Gray-sama better start right now if they want 32 babies!"

"32?! What the hell, Juvia!"

Juvia pretended to be hurt as she looked him in the eye. "Gray-sama does not want to have babies with Juvia, then?" She pouted and gave him her best puppy dog eyes, tears threatening to fall on her cheeks.

"No! I mean, yes! No! Juvia!" Gray ran a hand on his face, then sighed. He grabbed her shoulders and stared right back at her. 

"Look, I want babies. With you. But not right now. And not 32, for God's sake! Just please, don't cry." With that, he pulled her into his arms and Juvia couldn't help the warm feeling spreading throughout her whole body. Gray-sama really sees a future with Juvia!

Deciding to stop tormenting Gray, Juvia wiggled out of his grasp as she smiled and cupped his face in her hands. "Juvia's just teasing you, Gray-sama. But... she wants you to know how happy you made her just by hearing that Juvia is part of your future."

Gray's face softened, his hands cupping her cheeks as well. "I honestly don't know how you could think otherwise." Gray's face inched closer to hers, his breath fanning her lips, and Juvia closed her eyes.

"Get a room, you two," Lucy's voice broke the moment, making both jump away from each other, red cheeks and all. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they forgot they weren't alone in the room.

"How many eggs would you like Juvia to lay, Ice Pants?" Natsu asked as he tried to control his laughter.

"Shut up, Flame Brain!" Gray retorted. "At least I'm not stupid enough to believe that babies come from eggs!" 

Natsu crinkled his brows in confusion while Lucy facepalmed and Wendy giggled. Erza mumbled something about Natsu's need for further education.

"Moron! They totally do! Happy came from an egg!"

"Natsu-san, I don't think it's the same..."

"Idiot! How did you grow up and not know where babies come from!"

"Natsu! Gray!"

As the petty exchange escalated to a full-on brawl, Juvia cheered her Gray-sama, heart fluttering with the promise that someday, a beautiful boy with her deep ocean eyes and his unruly dark locks would be jumping and shouting beside her, cheering his Daddy on.

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing this even though I was in the middle of working on another fic. I just can’t wait for Gray to tell Juvia about Greige!

#gruvia #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #greige surge

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream IX

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Allen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 6, 258

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Chapter IX: He Loves Me; Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter.)

He Loves Me

You love me especially different every time

You keep me on my feet happily excited

By your cologne, your hands, your smile, your intelligence

You woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me

You school me, give me some things to think about

Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me, you love me, you like me

You incite me to chorus, ooh

Oh

She tells him she loves him on a Friday night.

A week later, and it's the first night in a long while that she doesn’t get to stay at home because Barry has asked if he can have her time tonight. He doesn’t give her any details, only tells her to come over to his place around 8 and to be prepared to stay over. He seems particularly animated, when he asks, and it makes Iris wonder why, if he’s got something planned or if it’s just that he’s happy he gets to spend the time with her, even if they’ve been around each other more than usual this week.

So, the entire day, she’s dizzy with excitement.

Her taping of Good Morning, Central City is mid-morning. The segment tapes live at 9:30, which gives her some time to down a cup of coffee or two to settle her nerves, and then carefully apply her makeup. She dresses in one of her favorite dresses, a long sleeved wrap dress in black with soft, pretty flowers printed on it and a pair of shoes that boost her confidence, tall black pumps with a gold heel and gold double chains around the ankle. The neck of the dress dips and the delicate material flirts with her lower thighs; she feels pretty in it, in a lighter, brighter way than she’s found herself feeling before. Her makeup is subtle, except for the dark maroon lip, and she’s had her hair blown out and it hangs in soft fingered out curls just past her shoulders. A small black bag is all she takes to keep her keys and cards and then she’s out the door.

WCCTV, the station that houses the studio, is a short drive away, tucked into a neighborhood that Iris doesn’t frequent. She isn’t sure what she was expecting of the station, but it’s a squat little building in an unimaginative cream and brick scheme that would look like any other commercial building if not for WCCTV printed in large blue letters on the building and the satellite dishes spaced intentionally around it.

A news producer meets her at the door, a thin young woman with thick red hair piled into a high ponytail who introduces herself as Katherine.

“We’re all excited to have you here,” the woman says, smiling as she leads Iris through a number of desk cubicles towards a back room. She recognizes a couple of the anchors from the station, who all look either intensely focused on their work or bored out of their minds.

“Thanks,” Iris says politely. “It is a little overwhelming here, though.”

Iris doesn’t love speaking in front of people, which is why she's firmly on the invisible side of her work, but she isn’t as nervous and she figures she could be. There’s that feeling in her belly she connects with nerves, but it’s slight; instead, she’s ready. This can change the trajectory of her blog, invite more viewers and more paying ads. It could invite more stories, people who see her and trust that she wants to do right by them and their lives. She’s practically giddy with the idea.

Katherine’s response is an easy grin. “I know it seems that way, but you’ll be fine. You look fabulous so that’s one concern out of the way. Plus, Alexa and James are phenomenal at getting people to open up at the same time that they project a sort of calmness. It's fascinating to watch and I can tell you’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Katherine. I really appreciate that.”

Iris is led back to a small room where the two anchors for Good Morning, Central City are standing with four other local internet stars. Alexa May is tall and blonde and exactly like what one thinks about when they think of a news anchor: pretty and personable on a killer black skirt suit, though Iris is a little surprised at the naturally kind gleam in her eyes. James Broderick is even taller, his dark hair styled to look windswept, his ice blue eyes looking constantly around the room, as if he’s always wondering where a new story might be.

Iris steps in to greet the other four guests. They include a short Somalian woman in a beautiful bright purple hijab who cooks and shares recipes on YouTube; a stocky white guy known for his skits on TikTok; a dark-skinned Black Instagram beauty guru; and a non-binary Mexican person who discusses true crimes on Snapchat ala Buzzfeed Unsolved. It’s an eclectic collection of people and Iris feels honored to be a part of this group. She’s watched all of their videos in some fashion, though she’s more partial to Aya, the home chef, and Nadine, the beauty grammer. Still, they each have large followings and to be included gives Iris such a sense of pride, that she’s a little drunk with the force of it.

“You guys ready?” Alexa’s strong voice pulls all of their attention immediately, and Iris passes one more look through the crew of them before locking eyes with Alexa and James.

She nods her assent.

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

At 8, Iris pulls into Barry’s two-car driveway right next to his Jeep backed up into the drive as usual. The garage is open, though, and she takes that as an invitation to walk into the house, finding the kitchen door unlocked. She steps in and presses the button that closes the garage, locks the kitchen door behind her.

Her giddy mood has stuck with her.

The segment had been a quick fire round of questions and answers, with the hosts wanting to know how they all got started, what motivates them to do what they do, and the ups and downs of being in spaces of both influence and criticism. It’d been fascinating to hear the stories of the others, and afterward, they’d all exchanged contact information with the idea of collaborating on future projects.

After, she’d gone to lunch with her dad and Wally, who’d all but hinted at a watch party planned for the following night. She'd merely shaken her head at her family’s love of partying.

Now, she’s at Barry’s and she recognizes that tonight is going to be different. Because she knows that she’s going to say it. After the last part of her interview, where she’d all but explained to Alexa and James that she’d fallen in love with someone, she understands that there is no way that she can announce it on television and not tell the man himself.

It’s fairly dark in the house; there is a small light on above the stove. She continues through the quiet living room, a single table lamp lighting her path down his hallway. She pauses to pull her jacket off, tossing it over the arm of the sofa as she treks towards his room. That’s where she finds Barry, sitting in the large overstuffed chair in the corner near the window.

She takes a moment to look at him, in a pair of soft looking pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt, tattooed arm hooked behind his head as he sits wide-legged in the chair. His dark hair is only the slightest bit messy. Iris likes the look of the breadth of his shoulders, the bulge of his biceps, the print of his sex visible through the thin cotton of his pants. He’s not overtly sexy in the way that other men she’s dated have been, but there’s something about Barry, his eyes and his mouth and his length, that really gets to Iris.

She drags her eyes away from him and that’s when she suddenly notices the two gift-wrapped boxes sitting in the middle of his bed, the large bottle of wine and two glasses on his bedside table, a couple of pre-rolled joints sitting beside them too.

Iris steps further into the room, her heels heavy on his hardwood floors; the movement is enough to catch his attention and his head pops up, those sea-foam eyes glittering behind the wire frames of his glasses as he smiles up at her.

(And, Iris will realize later, her entire body floods with her affection for him, the feeling familiar in that the thought comes so much easier now, comes to her so smoothly that she doesn’t know how it’d once felt so difficult to get the words across.)

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets as he stands, unfolding his long frame from the chair. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles at him as he comes to a stop in front of her. She naturally reaches out to wrap her arms around him, tightening them around his waist. His touch is automatic too, his big hands landing on her neck, thumbs trailing softly across the skin on her cheeks. She falls against him, his firmness and his warmth and the soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans down and kisses her, a peck and then another, and then a longer one, his tongue easing out to coax her open. He pulls back first, though slowly, and Iris chases after him. He obliges with another kiss, this one longer, wetter, Iris squeezing him to her.

“Hi,” she speaks, voice a little faint.

“Hey, beautiful” he repeats. He thumbs at her bottom lip, the tip of his finger tracing gently over the line of her mouth.

“What’s all this?” she asks, when she pulls away from him this time. She gazes around the room again, at how the only lights on are the bedside lamps and at the weed and wine waiting on one of those tables and the gifts sitting neatly on the bed.

“It’s a celebration,” he says with a wide smile. “Well, it’s your Friday night routine, just here. I got the wine and the weed, and Thai ordered out here for a bit later.” His smile dims a little, becomes unsure. “And I thought we could talk about your segment today; maybe actually watch it. I recorded it.”

“Really?” Iris’s eyes widen in slight surprise. “I know my dad and Wally did because we’re gonna have a watch party at dad’s place tomorrow. And probably Linda, but...”

“Of course I recorded it, baby.” Barry gives her an indulgent look. “I tried to watch some of it at work, but we got called out on a case before you came on. Then I thought it’d be better to wait to watch it with you.”

Iris doesn’t have a response other than to bite at her lip, eyes trained on him, the reality of his kindness rendering her momentarily speechless. Barry doesn’t acknowledge her silence; instead, he plants another firm kiss to her mouth and steps away from her, nodding at his bed.

“Is this all okay, though? Maybe you can open your gifts and then we can pour the wine and turn on your interview?”

Her smile is big. “Yeah, Barry, of course.”

She looks over at the sleekly wrapped presents before going to sit on the edge of his bed. She makes quick work of unclasping the buckle around her ankle, leaving her shoes strewn on the floor, and then she hops up into the middle of the bed, pulling the two boxes in front of her, her dress riding up to the top of her thighs.

One of the boxes is bigger than the other, though it’s lighter than the heavier one. They’re wrapped in shiny gold paper with dark blue bows sitting in the corner of each. She picks up the bigger present first, tearing through the paper. She recognizes the garment box and thumbs open the top. Nestled in white tissue paper is a pile of red silk, the material so soft and delicate it looks like waves on the cardboard.

“Bear?” she questions, picking up the folded clothing. It’s a nightgown and matching robe. The gown is almost like a dress she’d wear out, with thin straps and a split up the right side, except the fabric of it is so light, one can tell it’s only made to be seen by a lover. The feel of it in her hands is so nice and Iris knows that this isn’t like the inexpensive dresses she buys for herself.

“I thought that you could have one to keep over here sometimes,” he says when she catches his gaze. He looks a little bashful, cheeks slightly tinged pink. “I know that Friday night is largely your thing, but maybe every so often you can spend it with me.”

“And wear this?” Iris asks, her grin widening slowly.

Barry nods.

“I think that this is really a gift for you,” she says and he barks out a laugh.

“It is my favorite color.” He grins. “And I admit that when I saw it, the first thing I wondered was how it would look as I took it off of you.”

Iris rolls her eyes in jest. “Pervert.” She fingers the material again. “So you picked it out yourself? In a store?”

“You have no idea how embarrassing it is buying women’s lingerie. The sales lady kept making these innuendos and I thought I was gonna pass out, I was blushing so hard.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Iris laughs as she reaches over and pinches his cheek. “You did good though. It’s so soft.”

Barry beams at her. “Can I get a kiss as a thanks?”

Iris shakes her head. “Not until I open this other one. I could hate it and then that would overshadow how much I like this nightgown.”

He snorts. “Even if you do hate it, I’ll still get to see you in the nightgown and, honestly, that’ll make my night.”

“Like I said: pervert.”

He just chuckles as she picks up the heavier box and claws at the paper on it. It looks like some sort of leather book, and once Iris pulls all of the paper off, it takes everything in her not to just start bawling right then and there. It’s the journal she’d seen at the fall festival, except in a pretty royal purple instead of the coral she’d picked up there; this one’s definitely a better choice. It has the rose gold edging that the other had and her name is stitched in that same color at the bottom right corner of the journal. She flips through it, fingering the heavy cream paper. Handwriting catches her attention and she turns to where Barry has written a message on the first page in small, scrawling script.

Iris,

I think I knew that I was falling for you during fall fest, when I saw you staring down at the notebook with such a look of reverence on your face. I could see in that moment how much you loved your craft. It made me curious about you, about someone who’s goal in life is to be the voice for those who can’t or simply won’t. And when I started to read your work, I saw your heart in everything you wrote, in every line that scrolled across my computer screen. I wanted to know that heart.

Now that I do, now that I’ve seen it firsthand: in the way that you touch me, in the way that you smile at me, in the way that you make me feel like every day is new story to experience, I want to be able to experience it for as long as you’ll let me. Because you are a lightning bolt, Iris, brilliant and electric. You are beautiful and tenacious and the single most fascinating person I’ve ever met.

So keep putting your heart into your stories, and I’ve no doubt that everyone who reads it will love it as much as I do.

Barry

“Barry,” she says, breathes really. She looks up at him, his expression nervous, his eyes tracking her. She feels the moisture pricking at the corners of hers and she blinks, letting the tears fall.

“Iris.” His voice is a little raw as she gazes up at him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I can…” he cuts himself off as he reaches for the journal. Iris swats at his hand and brings the notebook closer to her. “Iris?”

Another tear, and then another and then more, roll down over her cheeks and Barry stares at her, hand outstretched, mouth agape.

“Iris,” he tries again. Wordlessly, she places the journal back down in the box and then she crawls over to him, planting herself in his lap. She wraps herself around him, legs locking around his waist, arms crossing behind his neck. He closes his mouth, but his features are still twisted in turmoil. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying.”

He asks this as he reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Everything in Iris seems like it’s settling now, even as the tears fall. Even clearer than before, she can read the story of them, like the book is in front of her, words bold and in technicolor. She can see the dream she’s living in, the vision of them laughing with each other and making love to each other, for days on end, one that plays out like a movie in front of her.

She tightens around him, trying to get as close as she can without crawling inside of him—she really wishes she could right now—and she sniffs, looking down at Barry through her wet lashes. She takes a deep breath. And then she tells him.

“I’m crying because I love you.”

Much like the last time they’d had this conversation, Barry’s body stiffens beneath her. He asks carefully, “And loving me makes you cry?”

She nods and Barry looks stricken. It’s what she needs to bring a modicum of levity to the moment and she huffs out a small laugh. “These aren’t sad tears, Barry.”

Iris can physically see him exhale, letting out a shaky breath. His shoulders lose their tension and he gives her a tentative smile. She returns it.

“For someone who always seems to know what I’m thinking, you completely missed the mark here.”

Barry shakes his head as Iris notes the flush climbing up his neck. “The tears threw me off.” He wipes at her face. “Please never do that again.”

She laughs. “I’ll do my best.”

Barry runs a hand down her back, over the fabric of the dress she’s wearing, and he grips her chin with his other thumb and forefinger, bringing her down so he can stare into her eyes.

“So you love me?” he wonders. His voice dips, lower like midnight walks on a beach in the fall or like early morning talks before coffee and reality ease in. He pulls the glasses from his face, folds them on the table beside them, and gives her all of his attention. She likes being surrounded by him like this, by the look of him and the smell of him and the feel of him. She stays wrapped around him like a koala and Barry holds on to her too, gripping her chin and pressing her to him with a wide palm to the small of her back.

“I do,” Iris nods. “Very much.”

Iris can see the joy brimming in his gaze. “Can you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“What you love about me.”

Barry shifts so that he’s sitting more comfortably on the bed and she’s perched even closer in his lap, the crotch of her panties almost pressing against his belly. He pushed the boxes and wrapping better towards the edge of the bed.

“For example,” he says, and he lets go of her chin to touch his palm to her chest. His hand is warm through the fabric of her dress. “You know that I love this heart, how gracious and compassionate it is.” He reaches down and picks up on her hands, rubbing a thumb along her knuckles, along the rings that adorn her fingers. He brings it up to his mouth and presses a few tiny kisses along the pads of her fingertips. “I love these fingers, because it’s through your writing, your typing, that you show yourself, even when you can’t always physically or verbally.” He goes back to her face, his thumb caressing the middle of her bottom lip. “I love this mouth: the way that it smiles and laughs, the way that it purses when you’re annoyed, the way that it feels on my own.”

Iris can’t help it when she licks her lips, tongue swiping at Barry’s thumb. He makes a soft grunting sound.

“Tell me, Iris.”

She thinks back to the second night they’d been together, when he’d been hard inside of her and he’d asked her to tell him how he felt fucking into her. She decides that this is even harder, not because she doesn’t know, but because when she speaks it, it’s officially there, written out in the sky, heaven coming to collect on its bet.

“I love your tattoos,” she starts, tentatively. She unhooks one of her arms from around his neck and touches at the skin on his arm, tracing the outline of a white daisy. “I love that you did it as a way to remember your mother; I love that you were brave enough to put the iris on your heart, even when I wasn’t sure how to receive that.” She reaches up to trail her fingers along his brows. “I love your eyes. I love the look of them, the fact that I can’t actually name what color they are; I love the way you look at me, how you can tell my feelings by just watching me, how it seems like I’m the only one you see whenever we’re out together.” She lets a nail trace the outline of his mouth, dropping her hand to rest on the back of his neck. “I love your mouth too; the way you always say things that make me feel beautiful or smart or loved.” She licks her lips again. “Or make me blush, like when you’re saying those dirty things when you’re…”

Barry gives her a deep smirk, those eyes flashing in a way that makes Iris’s body clench. Her thighs close around him.

“Like me saying those dirty things when I’m…?”

She rocks her hips. “You know.”

“I do,” he nods, “but I want to hear you say it.” He grinds up into her. “When I’m what, baby?”

“When,” she licks her lips again, slower this time, buoyed by the way his eyes darken, “you fuck me.”

“Mmmm,” Barry groans and then his grin changes to something a little indecent, darker and dirtier. “You know what else I love?”

Iris shakes her head, though she thinks she does.

“I love the way you respond to me, when I’m saying those dirty things to you when I’m fucking you.”

Iris rocks her hips again and she knows that it’s an involuntary moment. Because, like always, she responds to him easily, fluidly, like they’ve become extensions of the other.

Barry fingers at the hem of her dress sitting around her thighs. “Take this off,” he demands. “I want to show you how you look.”

Even with her brows furrowed in confusion, she does what he says, pulling the dress up and over her head. She reveals to him her bra and panty set, a dark green that even she thinks makes her skin glow. He fingers the lace at the top of the cups of her bra, at the same piping along her hips.

“As pretty as this is,” he murmurs, “I want it gone too.”

She unhooks the bra first, staring back at him. She tosses the bra on the bed beside them, her breasts sitting heavy on her chest, nipples already pointing out at him, seeking him, his fingers or his tongue or the nip of his teeth.

He helps her off of him so that she can take her panties off. Then, instead of letting her climb back on top of him, however, he positions himself so that he’s facing the side of the bed. He pulls her to him and sits her so she is sitting between his open knees, her back to his chest.

This brings a different part of the room into focus. Iris has always paid more attention to the wall length window on the other side of the room, the one that Barry will open when they’re together sometimes, taunting her with the eyes she’s sure she’s seen peeking through their blinds and his. The bed sits on a platform facing front, a television mounted on the wall above a stand that holds his game consoles and a few other knick knacks. But on the other side, there’s a bookshelf, above which hangs a mirror. Of course Iris has known it was there, has looked into it as she’s done her makeup or straightened one of Barry’s stolen shirts on her. But it looks almost dangerous now, only in that she can only imagine what Barry has planned for it. In the mirror, she can see all of her. It’s not an extremely large mirror, but it spans the length of the bookshelf and it’s just high enough that, on the bed, Iris can see both of their bodies.

“Barry?” she questions as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“I know you like it when other people watch,” he says, and she almost rolls her eyes at the smug, laughing look on his face. “But I want you to watch you right now. To see yourself the way I do; to see why I felt so compelled to come to you that first night.”

Iris’s lips quirk up slightly. “I didn’t look like this the first night you saw me.”

“I’ve got a great imagination,” Barry winks.

Ignoring his statement,

(but not the way her heart fills with love for him, the kind that sits heavy in her chest, bold and open; the kind that stays strong in her belly, flipping and fluttering and always present; the kind that dips low in her sex, warm and wet and wanting)

Iris turns back to the mirror and catalogs what she sees: her naked body cocooned in his fully clothed one; her brown eyes bright with anticipation, his darkened with barely disguised lust. There are still traces of her lipstick on her full mouth, and some of it is on Barry too, a look that shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. The fabric of his clothes are so soft on her bare skin, and the warmth of the heat through the room only serves to heighten her desire. Barry moves her hands, throws them over either side of his thighs, and uses his to open her legs; the move puts her even more on display, the gold necklace she’s been wearing all day nestled in between her breasts, her belly taut, the pinkish brown lips of her pussy already slick.

Barry circles a hand gently around her throat at the same time that he palms the inside of one of her thighs, holding her open, rubbing gently at her skin.

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” Barry says to her, whispers it, his voice soft in her ear. “I admit I was drunk that first night, but I saw you and it was like, like the entire world came into focus. I think my body knew I would love you before the rest of me could even deny it. And, by some miracle, I got you to take me home with you.”

He touches her lightly on her neck and then moves down, the tips of his fingers feeling on her breasts until he circles a nipple. She gasps, the sound more like a low moan, and Barry smiles at it.

“You were so responsive,” he explains. “I’ve never seen anything like the way you respond to me; it’s so electrifying, baby.”

He circles one nipple with the rough pad of his fingers, pinches at it until it fully hardens, the action almost painful in that she needs more. He moves to the other nipple, does the same thing, and Iris grinds her hips, hoping to move the hand still gliding on her thigh closer to where she always wants him.

“It can be the slightest touch,” he continues, running his nails down the space between her breasts. She proves his point, whimpering a little as he glides down to her belly, and then up again, adding a finger as he goes down once more, and then up. It should not feel like this, such an innocuous move. But he’s right; she’s so responsive to him. This ghost of a touch, just the barest hint of his fingers on her, and she’s heated, her thighs quaking, her sex fluttering.

“Barry,” she sighs, catching her gaze through the mirror. He licks those pink lips, eyes honed in on her, and in that moment, she sees that it is mutual. However true it is that she so easily reacts to him, he is not unaffected. He is, just as much as she is, the truth of it right there in his wrecked countenance: the burning gray of his eyes, the pink flush of his cheeks, the colorful bunch of the tattoos on his arm as he holds her tight.

“I’m in love with this pussy, too,” he mumbles into her neck, his pale hands moving to grip her thighs. The sight of it is a touch obscene, his lightly tanned skin on the umber of hers, his long fingers pressing into her flesh. He doesn’t touch her sex, not right away. Instead, he squeezes her thighs before repeating his pattern of running his fingers up and down, up and down again.

“Look at it,” Barry groans, and she watches his gaze go down to her before she looks at herself. She knows her own body, but Iris has never looked at herself like this, has never spread her legs in front of a mirror when her lips were wet like this, flushed red like this, puckered open as if begging for the stretch of his cock.

“Look at how pretty you are, baby.” His voice sounds like music to her. “Look at how slick you get for me; how open you get for me.”

“Bear,” Iris moans.

He chuckles. “I know. I wanna fuck you right now too.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I’m not finished playing.”

Iris gripes at that, throwing her head back on his shoulder and canting her hips toward his hand.

“No, be a good girl for me, Iris.” Those nimble fingers inch toward the middle of her. “Be a good girl and keep looking while I finish playing.”

He waits until she looks back at the mirror and then he starts. That first touch to her sends electricity coursing through her. He swipes a finger straight up the middle of her slit and she jerks, followed quickly by a limb-loosening moan when Barry sucks the digit in his mouth.

“I love the taste of it,” Barry says.

He reaches back down again, uses his index and ring fingers to hold her open and then dips his middle finger into her. He fucks that finger into her slowly, rubbing against her walls as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her, gathering the slick of her on that finger.

“I love the feel of it.”

He shifts to use all three of those fingers, dipping them in her wet and rubbing them over her. This is where he finds his rhythm. Iris catches, and this time holds, the sight of them in the glass. Her hair is a curly mess, the strands hanging loose and tangled around her head. Her lips are swollen from how often she keeps tugging the bottom one between her teeth, her chest heaving as she prays for release. In all of that, Iris swears she’s glowing, eyes darkened and alight, her entire body lit with pleasure, bringing out the honeyed undertones in her skin. She looks raw. She looks fucked. She looks like a woman who sings out whenever she can, you woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me.

And Barry holds on to her, fingers moving a little erratically, going between fucking his fingers into her and massaging her swollen clit with his wet fingers. All of it is, a lot, the way his fingers look slicker and slicker until she’s dripping down onto his wrists, the way that their different skin colors seem to matter right now only in how erotic the contrast looks right now.

“Come, baby,” Barry says. “And watch yourself.”

She does, watches herself as she comes, watches Barry watch her as she does. And it’s as beautiful as he says. Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute.

“I love you,” Barry tells her, after, as she blinks through the haze of her orgasm.

With low, shaky limbs, she turns around, crawling on top of him and pulling him out of his sweatpants only enough that she can slide down the length of his dick. He stretches her, even as wet as she is, her cream coating him. Then he wraps his arms around her, pulling her down to him, all the way until there is only the ocean blue shade of his eyes filling her gaze, so different from the molten whiskey of hers, though nothing in Iris doubts that the same expression shines in both of them: that of a craving for this to last until the last breath shudders from their bodies, that of the love that she hopes makes that dream come true.

“I love you too, Barry.”

And this time, they only watch each other, reading each other, their climax hurtling toward them with the sort of rugged elegance that has always accompanied her idea of love. It’s bliss, la, la, la; da, da, da; do, do, do.

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

“So Iris, tell me,” Alexa May starts. Iris inclines her head as she awaits Alexa’s question, the other woman’s gaze kind and curious. “Are any of the stories on your blog particularly personal to you?” James Broderick nods his head at the question.

“Well, they’re all personal to me,” Iris tells her with a side grin. “But I assume you’re asking if one of the stories I’ve written is particular to my life?”

“Exactly,” Alexa gives her her own smirk.

Iris shakes her head, pauses for a minute as she decides how much she wants to say on a widespread television

“None of them are,” she says, carefully. “But I’m working on one.”

Both Alexa and James’s blue eyes light with interest.

“Oh really?” James questions.

Alexa leans toward her, crossing her slim legs and settling her elbows on her thighs. “Is it a love story?”

“It is,” Iris laughs softly. “It’s a story still being written, so I don’t want to give too much away. But I can tell you that it’s about two people who’ve found something neither had been particularly expecting. It’s about two people who’ve struggled to find acceptance in different ways, to fight through the pain they’ve experienced. It’s about two people who feel into each other’s lives in one of the easiest ways possible, like puzzle pieces clicking or locks being secured or some other metaphor for two people who just… fall into place.” There’s a round of sweet chuckles from Alexa and some of the other guests. “Most importantly, though, it’s about two people who’ve stumbled right into something out of a storybook, something that can only be described as love.”

There is a pause. And then Alexa sighs. “God, that’s beautiful.”

Iris presses a hand to her heart, trying to keep in the surge of emotion that floods through her in that moment.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “So are we.”

“And there you have it, viewers,” James says, pulling the attention away. “Keep a lookout for that love story on What a Life You’ve Lived. Thank you all so much for watching. We’ll be right back.”

You're different and special

You're different and special in every way imaginable

You love me from my hair follicles to my toenails

You got me feeling like the breeze, easy and free and lovely and new

Oh when you touch me I just can't control it

When you touch me, I just can't hold it

The emotion inside of me, I can feel it

#westallen fanfiction #strangers to lovers #iris west #barry x iris #barry allen

[dekalko-mania]

Things That Lurk in the Dark (Pt. 2) 

Amity changed the day the portal opened, in more ways than one.

(Read part one here)

....

Vlad had resigned himself to an evening of prep work, monotonous planning and continuous meetings with Amity officials aware of their...dilemma. What he had not expected, or rather, what he had been hoping to avoid, was an interruption in the form of a teenage brat with a flair for heroics. 

In the middle of what was surely an important conversation with the APPD chief of police (he was honestly only lending his partial attention), he found himself sighing at the crash of a piece of priceless furniture. Honestly, that boy had to work on his landings. 

“Was that your cat, Mayor Masters?” Chief Bryans raised a brow at the stomps that followed the commotion. 

Vlad huffed, internally affronted. His Maddie was much more well-mannered than that. “I’m afraid it’s a rather unwelcome visitor.”

Sure enough, his common room doors were soon slammed against the wall, revealing a fuming Phantom. Completely ignoring the other’s presence, he flew the rest of the way over to Vlad, fists trembling with barely-contained rage. 

“You.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to go through the door? Not forgetting your powers again, are you?”

“Shut up,” Danny snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me? This whole time I thought I was losing my shit, but I was right!” 

“I’m sorry, I thought you said Phantom declined to help?” Chief Bryans cut in through the middle of their stand off, eyes flickering between the two of them. 

“You said what!” 

Vlad scowled, eyes flashing over to the policeman. What a nuisance, he had completely forgotten he was still there. With only a subtle narrowing of the eyes, he summoned a duplicate to appear behind him, commanding the other to overshadow the man’s body and place him in a trance. 

Once finished, he focused his attention back on his rival, words laced with irritation. “This is bigger than you, Daniel. Had you known, you would’ve gone in there yourself like the fool you are.”

Choosing to not say anything about his distaste of overshadowing for now, Danny scoffed. “So, what? You planned to send in innocent people when you knew the one most qualified to handle this situation was me?” 

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself so much.” Vlad stood, reaching over to a worryingly packed folder and shoving it into Danny’s arms. “Look at this, dozens of victims and you really think you couldn’t have been one of them? What would Maddie think, hm? Finding her son among the list?” 

“Stop it, I know what you’re doing and I’m not buying it!” Danny dropped the folder back onto the table, already knowing its contents by heart, blaming himself for having not done anything sooner. “You manipulate people, it’s what you do. You act like you care, when all you want is credit for solving the problem without me."

Vlad scoffed, "I understand there's been a history of pranks among us, Daniel, and maybe that gave you the impression that I'm one for playground antics." He pointed over to Chief Bryan. "But something they don't know, something your own parents don't know, is that Phantom is not as free of fault as he thinks he is."

"What?" Danny's eyes flashed. "You're saying I'm involved somehow?"

"Oh no," Vlad grinned, sitting back down, an air of arrogance mixing with his anger. "I'm saying you're the cause of it. Your ectosignature reeks throughout the reserve. Whatever is inside, it's calling for you. But shame on me for wanting to keep you from entering an obvious trap."

“But I didn’t...” Danny paused, running a shaking hand through his hair. “I didn’t do anything. And none of my enemies has this much power, unless-”

“Unless it’s someone new,” Vlad interrupted. “That’s what I believe as well. And you’re mistaken to think you haven’t done anything. Think about it, when did this all begin, hm? What prompted such a drastic change to the city?” 

Danny took a moment to wonder, going over the strange occurrences he had seen, when they first began. What could possibly have caused such a radical shift?  When was the first time he doubted himself and his perception of reality? It was probably around his freshmen year when he noticed it, the sky having momentarily seemed to glitch one day on his way home. It could only have been for half a second, happening around the time when he had still not gotten fully accustomed to his powers. He had been gazing out the school bus window by coincidence, right around the time when...

“The portal.” He realized, breath catching in his throat. “It was the portal.” 

“Exactly,” Vlad grinned. “I mean, what did you think? That ripping a hole into another dimension wouldn’t have its consequences?” 

“I didn’t exactly think about that, it was an accident.” It was true. Danny never planned to open the portal himself, not at that moment. He had only wanted to explore it, to see if maybe he could point his parents in the right direction. He never thought that an experiment in his basement would cause so much grief. 

“Of course you didn’t think, you’re a child. And children shouldn’t be involved in things they know nothing about.” Vlad’s tone was nothing short of condescending. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t let your nosey little self anywhere near the reserve. 

You had no idea what you were doing back in college either, Danny wanted to snap back. Instead, he took his victory for what it was, knowing it was over from the minute he discovered the truth. 

“Which means you know you have no choice but to let me go.”

“Unfortunately,” Vlad sighed, summoning his clone back, and waiting as Chief Bryans blinked himself back into awareness. 

The officer glanced around the room, eyes falling onto Danny’s much more relaxed form. “I’m sorry, I think I zoned out for a bit. What were we talking about?”

“It seems there was a misunderstanding,” Vlad drawled. “Phantom’s hero complex is as strong as ever. He’ll be joining our raid tonight.”

....

To say that his parents were not pleased to see him was an understatement. He had arrived with Vlad and Chief Bryans, having taken the rest of the day to catch up on the plan. According to the chief, they had decided to first send his parents and smaller ghost hunters into the area, accompanied by a squad of officers armed with ectoweapons. 

There was a rough map of the reserve, littered with marks detailing emergency evacuations and possible things that may go wrong. From what Danny could gather, it had been a shoot first and ask questions later approach, his least favorite tactic. Vlad himself seemed opposed to it as well, knowing from his past conniving ways that matters were made better in one’s favor with patience. 

It took a bit of convincing, but Danny had managed to alter it so that he made the first attempt. If he went in and failed to resolve the problem, he would begrudgingly step back and allow them to take over. It had added pressure, but made him all the more determined to end the issue once and for all. 

What he had not counted on was the opposition of anyone outside Chief Bryans, a dumb assumption now that he thought back on it. As he sat still, letting an officer fit him with a set of Fenton phones and various gadgets, he couldn’t help but to notice the scathing glares being sent his way by his mom. 

Out of both Fentons, she was the most angered by his presence, refusing to place the set on him herself. “Unless it’s to study it, I’m not getting closer than I have to be.” 

He had to convince himself that he was used to it, ignoring the sting he’d felt at her words. 

Officer Perkins stepped back, nodding when he saw the gear was a good fit. “Alright, we weren’t counting on someone going in alone, so we’re going to need you to narrate what you see when you’re inside. That alright?” 

Danny nodded, taking the opportunity to avoid his parents’ gaze. Perkins was a much more comforting presence to him, resembling how he imagined Tucker would look like when older, minus the sometimes cocky attitude. 

“Are the, um, the families going to arrive? To listen in.” 

“The families of the victims you mean?” At Danny’s nod, Perkins frowned. “I guess they didn’t tell you, no one remembers that they’re missing.They did, at first, that’s how we got the news. But once they’ve alerted us it’s like they forget.”

“But wouldn’t they notice if they never came home?” Danny frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. There had to have been an Amber Alert or something to remind them.” 

Danny recalled that some of the victims were kids. Surely their parents would’ve noticed their disappearance, or at least been reminded of it when the officers went to update them. 

“We’ve tried sending them out, hell, we’ve even tried to put up signs and post it on social media. Somehow the texts never send, or the flyers disappear. Shit’s weird.” He sighed. “They think their kid is at a sleepover, or that their wife is out visiting her mom. For some reason they forget, but we remember.” 

Danny bit his lip, stewing over what Vlad had said earlier in the day. 

“What would Maddie think, hm? Finding her son among the list?”

If he went in and never came out, would his family forget his disappearance too? Would Sam, Tucker, and Valerie not even realize that he was gone? 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were you,” Maddie cut in, momentarily catching him off guard. “I’m sure there’s no one out here that would’ve noticed you gone anyway.” 

Danny’s expression must’ve showed how painful the statement was to hear, because Officer Perkins immediately rounded on the couple. 

“Is this how you talk to someone who’s trying to help?” 

“Excuse me? Help?” Maddie frowned. “Ghosts don’t help because they care about people, it’s self-interest. He definitely has an ulterior motive.” 

Before Perkins could intervene any further, Danny smirked, shoving aside his feelings for an undeterred facade. 

“Don’t bother with them, they’re in their own world.” He met his parent’s gaze head on. “Probably wouldn’t even notice if their own kids disappeared in there.” 

He knew he went too far when both Fentons had their guns pointed at him, so quick that Officer Perkins stepped back in shock. Still, he refused to budge, knowing that anything they said would hurt him more than a few shots. Somehow, that angered them even further, his dad’s glare intensifying as he stared him down. 

“Listen, spook, you don’t know us as parents. So either you shut up or I’ll-”

“Geez, getting a little defensive aren’t you.” Danny released a humorless laugh. “Guess I hit a nerve.”

He leaned forward, placing his head mere inches away from their weapons. 

“Tell me, did you even bother checking if they were home before coming?”

He could see the moment it dawned them that they hadn’t, his mom’s gun dropping by an inch. A sense of guilty satisfaction filled him, knowing that despite them being the threat in the situation, he had the upper hand. He would regret it later, he knew it, but somewhere along the way of becoming Phantom, it grew more difficult for him to compartmentalize his interactions with his parents. 

Hard to be a good son when one second he was being held in a containment device, and the next found himself pressed tight against his mother’s side. 

The tension was cut through with a loud sigh, Vlad and Chief Bryans suddenly standing at the entrance of their tent. “Officer Perkins, I left you here to control the situation, not stand there gawking.” 

Embarrassment marring his features, Perkins placed himself in between the two parties. “Chief Bryans is right, we can settle this later. The truth of the matter is, Phantom’s here to help, same as you. So let’s focus on the raid for now, I’m sure your children are fine. You can call them if that’ll help.” 

Danny saw the uncertainty in his parents’ eyes, worrying for a second that they would do exactly that, before seeing determination settle in his dad's gaze.

“No, it’s fine. It’s too late for them to be out anyway.” He grunted. 

Danny scoffed, knowing they just didn’t want him to think he’s correct. Figures they would put their pride first. Without anything more to say, he stood, floating over to the two men. 

“If that’s settled, are we ready to go?"

Vlad grinned, doing very little to hide his amusement with Danny's predicament. "We've finished the final preparations, yes. All we need is your approval and we’ll get into position.” 

Danny nodded, looking over to the Fentons. “You ready?”

His parents’ scowls eased into quiet discontent, guns placed back into their holsters. 

“Well then,” Vlad said, holding open the tent flap. “Lead the way.” 

....

Danny had only gotten about a five minute walk into the reserve when he noticed the increase in supernatural activity. While Amity had bore many hints of it, the incidents were ones that left him second guessing himself, occurring so abruptly that they could be attributed to an overactive imagination. In there, following along the path of the main river, he struggled to find anything that wasn't out of place.

The first thing he'd noticed was the faint green glow surrounding the place, catching it even in the bits of sky he saw beyond the tree branches. It was as if someone had placed a filter over the entire area, having it resemble a darker version of Skulker's lair.

To his left and across the river, he swore he could see the occasional silhouette, figures peering at him from a safe distance. He wasn't yet sure if they were afraid or curious, but he hadn't gotten close enough to find out. Whoever they were, they weren't the missing people he was searching for. Even without the handheld radar he'd been given, his ghost sense was strong enough to tell that they were supernatural.

“Do you see anything?” Chief Bryan’s voice asked over the Fenton Phones. 

Danny imagined them as they were when he’d left, squads assembled on the outskirts of the forest, while the main group of leaders were hunched over a desk of equipment in their tent. They were unable to get footage, but the verbal descriptions and data sent back from his gear was enough to maintain their attention. 

He perused his environment, eyeing the various blob ghosts and unnatural bugs floating in his vicinity. “Nothing new, same as before. You?”

“Our readings are the same,” his dad’s voice responded. “Higher ectoplasmic levels than usual, but not too alarming. Can you describe the area again?” 

Danny sighed, raising a finger and providing a perch for a small blob. “Other than my little ghost friend here, it’s mostly the same. There’s more trees, I guess. They’ve got these weird jags on their surface, like someone ran their nails down them. “ He shivered at the thought, looking over to the river. “The water here’s frozen over, but the temperature inside is low so it makes sense. And along the side there’s...”

Danny froze, sentence left unfinished.

“Phantom?”

He placed the small ghost on a nearby log, slowly approaching the river edge. “There’s a crack in the ice. I think it’s coming towards me.”

Sure enough, the jagged line ended directly in front of him. He debated whether he should step back, but decided not to move when he saw the fractures branching off into multiple ones. The quiet was replaced with sharp noises and the thumping of something in the water. Danny leaned down, fists raising in case he needed to blast an attacker. 

The glow from his fists provided just enough light to see the appearance of a webbed hand pressing against the ice. Slowly, he moved closer, flinching when he saw a face just behind it. As if pleased that they’d been noticed, the creature pushed themselves into an area they’d be more visible, rapping their knuckles lightly on the film above them. 

“There’s a girl here,” he realized. “She wants me to get her out.”

“Is it one of the victims?” Maddie asked.

“No, she looks like some kind of mermaid.” Danny placed his hand on the shadow of hers, noting a trail of bubbles escaping her lips as she giggled.

“Leave it then. We need to find the victims, get out of there.”

Ignoring her, Danny put his other hand onto the surface as well, summoning the powers from his cold core so that he could spread the fissures further. When he felt it was enough, he pushed down gently against the ice, breaking it apart so that there was a large open space available. 

Slowly, a head of midnight blue hair broke through the surface, cyan face peering at him from beneath soaked bangs. She opened her mouth, once, twice, seemingly unable to utter a word, and then gave up in favor of reaching out to poke his face. 

Danny remained still, confused as the girl gaped at him in awe. Once she seemed to regain her bearings, he felt her grab each of his arms, mischievous smile being his only warning before he was yanked into the river. 

He struggled, shutting his mouth tightly on instinct as he was surrounded by what to anyone else would be dangerously cold levels of freezing water. Despite his attempts at breaking free, the girl’s grip was strong, and something about her kept him from going intangible. Try as he might, this was her territory, and he was weak to do anything but be dragged further down. 

Be still. Trust.

Knowing he had no choice, he let himself go limp, thankful that his ghost form didn’t need to breathe. By now, he could feel the pressure that the deep water bore onto him, shoulders feeling heavy as he was forced further down. He knew it was just uncomfortable, that he would be fine, but the dark water underneath him killed any enthusiasm to go deeper.

Too much, He thought. I’m gonna be crushed.

As abruptly as he was pulled in, he felt himself skidding to a halt, a wave of apology sent in his direction. 

Forgive. Mistake. Wait here. 

Releasing her grip, the girl gave Danny one final meaningful squeeze on the shoulder. Deciding he wouldn’t leave, she swam down past where the glow from the forest above could illuminate, disappearing completely out of sight. 

As he floated there, left completely to his own devices, Danny scoped his surroundings, thinking it strange how a river could bare such a resemblance to the bottom of the sea. From just beyond him, he could see jagged rocks lining its sides, some looking as if they had engravings made along their surface. Had he not been told to stay where he was, he would’ve loved to trace his hands along them. 

What caught his attention the most though, now that he’d gained his bearings enough to notice it, were the glowing dots interspersed throughout the water. If he was on dry land, he would’ve thought they were fireflies, an abnormal amount for the season. He was so entranced, it took him a second to notice that the girl was swimming her way back up, accompanied by an older woman. 

Taking in her appearance, he saw that she was much older and wore a long gown that went past the length of her legs. On her head, she had a dainty crown, circular and bearing engravings similar to those on the walls. With an expression matching the awed one the girl had worn previously, she placed her hands on either side of his face and smiled. 

Halfa. He said you would come. 

Someone expected me?

So it was true, there was a ghost within the reserve that wanted him there. 

Yes. You will see soon. The woman reached over to the girl, pulling her forward. My daughter, I told her to wait. You arrived. She brought you to me.

Hands practically shaking with anticipation, the girl pulled a tiny stone box from within her robes and handed it to Danny. Sensing that the gesture had importance, he took it from her politely, sending a thank you in her direction. Their demeanors remained encouraging, inviting him to look inside. 

When he did, he saw that there was a ring made of black obsidian to match the woman’s crown. On it was carved an image detailing symbols that resembled the shape of water and a moon. Though it wasn’t flashy as ghostly artifacts tended to be, he could feel power pulsating from within it, fingers tingling where it touched him.

For you. Our king. Our people. With you. 

Unsure what to say, Danny sent them another thank you, promising to take care of it. The choice of words struck him as odd, but he figured that it was similar to how Frostbite called him Great One. It didn’t mean anything, it was simply a show of gratitude. For what, he wasn’t sure. 

My daughter, can accompany you to surface. 

Suddenly remembering what he had followed her for in the first place, Danny shook his head. The reserve was huge, and it would take him much longer to find the lost citizens. If anyone knew where everything was, it would be those who inhabited it. 

Actually, have you seen other humans come in here recently? They never came back out.

The woman and girl exchanged a meaningful look. 

They sleep. On surface, I take. 

Squeezing her daughter’s shoulder, the queen bowed at Danny and made her leave. He sent her one of his own, surprised when he turned to see the girl already waiting ahead of him. 

Sensing his shock, she smirked. 

Catch up, King. 

With all the speed he could muster underwater, Danny swam, just barely maintaining his speed beside her. As they swam, he took note of his environment, in case anything of value appeared for him to report. Thankfully, the Fenton Phones were waterproof, but they were still too low for the signal to reach. 

He wasn’t looking forward to the ear full he would get when it returned.

My name, Kara. 

Danny felt shame rising within him at realizing that he hadn’t even thought to ask the girl her name before. Grinning sheepishly, he let her know he liked to be called Danny. 

Danny? Strange for King. King Phantom, okay?

Figuring it wouldn’t make a difference, he shrugged, again feeling put off by the royal title. Before he could ask, Kara took a sudden sharp turn upward, heading towards a patch of light in the distance. His legs would be burning after this, that he knew. 

Once he broke through, just a few seconds behind, Danny blanked. “What is this?”

Ahead of him stood a giant structure resembling a Greek temple, though it was black instead of white. Along its steps were stoic skeletal guards, donning armored uniforms and staring straight at them with glowing red eyes. The white light that they’d followed came from the gardens leading up to the structure, vanishing when it got too close, as if swallowed by the building. 

People inside. He waits. 

As if sensing that her explanation was not comforting enough, Kara bumped gently against his shoulder. 

They live. Avoid attack. Go in. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, Danny pulled himself out from the water, eyeing the temple one more time, before turning to give his goodbye. 

“Thank you, really. And for the gift too.”

Bowing her head, Kara smiled. Nothing to thank. Meet again. 

Seeing her vanish below the surface, Danny steeled himself, floating closer as he pressed a hand to the phones. “Hello, anybody hear me?”

When he was met with static, he decided communication could wait. He had made it clear that no move would be made until he had made his attempt. And besides, something told him that this was a part of the journey he had to take alone. 

Making sure that he wouldn’t be affected by deadly plants, he kept his distance from either side of him, staying directly in the middle of the path. Strangely, most of the vegetation consisted of large pomegranate trees, an unnaturally red kind that seemed to pulsate in temptation. 

From past experience with Undergrowth, he’d learned to remain cautious, and kept that attitude as he approached the steps. Out of all the reactions he’d expected from the guards, having them kneel before him in unison was not one of them. 

“Um, you really don’t have to do that,” He tried. “A ‘come inside’ would’ve been enough.”

Realizing it wouldn’t make any difference, he decided to float by, wary for any signs of malice. They didn’t move an inch, seeming to view him with some level of respect. The whole situation was weird, nothing going the way he prepared for. It wasn’t a level of welcome he was accustomed to with the supernatural, making him all the more apprehensive for who exactly was waiting for him.

His worry rose as he arrived at the entrance, both guards on either side opening the set of giant wooden doors for him, before taking the same position as their comrades. 

“What’s going on...” 

He had only a moment to calm his racing heart, doors crashing shut behind him. The room was easily shrouded in darkness, torches along the walls providing very little visibility with their misty green appearance. He couldn’t stop the shiver racing up his spine as the shadows melded into nearly physical shapes, unable to focus on any one image with the amount of anxiety that replaced his determination.

The point of no return, he thought. This is what this feels like.

His fear escalated as he quickly realized that his powers were not cooperating, light refusing to appear on the palms of his hands. Even his glow was dampened, nothing appearing to relieve him of the absolute darkness. 

With nothing to help him, he couldn’t stop his breaths from coming in rapidly, his Phantom form doing little to quell his rising panic. This was a mistake, coming to this place while aware that many couldn’t escape, it was wrong. 

“Shit,” he whispered, trembling fingers yanking at his hair. The pain only barely kept him cognizant, all other thoughts melding into mush. “C-calm down. You’ve faced worse. Calm down, calm down...”

 “My presence tends to make humans uneasy. Though, I would expect a future king to display his fear more honorably.”

Danny’s head shot up, latching onto the voice for something to focus on. Vision still not its best, he could only make out the silhouette of a bare throne, large and gnarled in design. Everything else was a washed out black, glints of stone shining at odd intervals. 

“Good, it seems purpose grounds you. Come forward.” 

Clenching his hands, Danny approached the misshapen figure ahead of him, stopping just before it. Most beings he knew were protective of their possessions, to a deadly point. He was not keen on testing whichever presence was in the room.

“Sit.”

He followed the voice’s command, holding back a groan at the sheer intensity of pressure crushing his core. Here, the dread was at its highest point, despair absolutely consuming him, darkness seeming to seep into him from his very pores. He closed his eyes, knowing that the dimness of his eyelids would be nothing in comparison to what surrounded him. 

He was met with a sight he had not anticipated, confusion flooding him when he found himself inside the unopened portal in his lab. Ahead were him, Tucker and Sam, frozen as they stared off inside the gaping void. Inspecting the other version of himself, he saw familiar black gloves over a white jumpsuit. 

“I’m...back in time?”

“Not quite.” The deep voice echoed, detached from any particular location. “We are in a memory. Events from the day we met have been suppressed in your mind.” 

“So you want me to, recreate it?”

The sound of cracking of bones and crackling electricity played in Danny’s ear, a reminder of just how painful dying could be. He remembered the soreness in his throat that lingered for days after, made due to the force of his screams. From there, that was all he remembered, skipping forward to when he woke up in his friends’ arms. 

“As I said, it’s only a memory. Yours is tainted, so I decided to show you through mine. Now, close your eyes and listen. I will tell you when to open them.”

Understanding dawning on him, Danny did just that, grateful that the man was not so cruel as to force him to watch his own body seizing in midair. The feeling had been awful enough, but to see it front row would have been even worse.

“I’ve always wanted to go in here.” His own voice said, continuing off where the scene began. “Who knows what awesome, super cool things are on the other side of that portal?” 

The quiet padding of feet got closer, every sound amplified within the tunnel, before getting cut off by a scuffle and a yelp. There was a click and a whirring began building, increasing and soon joined by an excruciating scream. It was the same one he heard when doing his signature wail, haunting him even after he’d survived. 

Even through shut lids, he could see the green blaze, stopping only when the howl was replaced with the sound of running water and the shriek of crows. He felt a nudge on his side, a signal that he could look. 

The area confirmed that the man was telling the truth, a sense of familiarity greeting him when he saw his slightly younger self standing beside an elder and a small, beat up boat.  He could only tell he was older because of his hunch and wrinkled hands clutching onto a paddle. The rest of him was covered by a black cloak. From the looks of it, he was engaged in a heated discussion with past Danny. 

“I feel...empty.” Danny stared at the figure with a forlorn expression, as if desperately hoping he could fix the torn up, hollow sensation in his chest.

“Of course you feel empty!” He waved in Danny’s direction, distaste tinging his voice. “My purpose is to lead the dead across this river, and your soul has not even properly moved on!” 

“I don’t...” He clutched tighter onto his suit, still fuming from the accident.

“Is that Death?” Danny could not help but ask. 

An amused chuckle negated his question. “No, Death was only with you at the moment of your passing. This is Charon, she brought you to him.”

“Look child, I don’t have time for explanations. I have other actually dead souls to cross.” He reached out a hand, motion more gentle than his gruff tone. “Get in, I’ll take you to the boss.” 

Danny slid his hand into Charon’s, scene switching the moment he made contact. 

They were standing in a throne room, this one putting the one back in Amity to shame. It resembled a darker version of Olympus, akin to the old paintings depicting it that he’d seen in class. The skeletal guards were inside this one as well, hidden along the walls in the spaces between gigantic corinthian columns. 

At the very end sat a huge man, face obscured by darkness and black robes shifting as if trapping lost souls. Beneath his throne stood Danny, arms wrapped tight around his midsection, while Charon finished explaining the situation next to him. 

Once done, the large man finally spoke. “You were right to bring him. He does not belong here.” 

“Wait, is that you? Does that mean you’re-”

“You humans have decided to call me Hades, yes, ruler of the underworld and what not. We have met before, once, in this memory. You do not recall it, but I remember very well.” His aura communicated amusement to Danny. “How could I ever forget, a child challenging me to a fight for his life. You were lucky that half your soul was still anchored to the earth.”

“Still, I have yet to decide how to handle this situation,” Hades commented. “This is the second time this has occurred. We can’t keep sending them back.”

As if waking from a dream, Danny’s eyes suddenly filled with anger, shoulders straightening despite still being obviously disoriented. “Obviously you let me go back to Amity. You said it yourself, and I can feel it. I’m not whole, I’m stuck there!”

“And who do you think you are? Telling me what to do?” A gust of wind shoved Danny to the floor. “I should dump you in Tartarus for daring to challenge me.”

“Challenge you?” Danny forced himself back up, glare stubbornly fixed on his face. “If you want a real challenge, then I’ll-I’ll fight you!”

Danny cringed, feeling worse than when his mom sent Sam home with a mug of himself as a baby. “I really said that?”

“Yes you were quite upset at me. Reckless thing you were, but I let you return. According to the rules governing the dead, you still had half a life to live.”

In their moments of brief conversation, several events had transpired, mainly Danny’s appeal as to why he would not allow himself to die. In the end, Hades deemed it a situation too bothersome to dwell on, deciding that the child technically did not meet the criteria to be there.

“I will send you home.” Sensing Danny’s relief, he held up a hand. “But I warn you, you will be considered a halfa, an abomination to both mankind and the spirits of the dead. Abominations do not typically have happy endings.”

“What do you mean a halfa? Is something going to happen to me?” 

“Not now, but just know that when you truly pass, you will never be able to come back. Either you stay and pass on as half a soul, or you become one again, and be doomed to forever wandering the earth alone.” 

Their setting reverted back to Danny’s basement, the moment where he was first reborn as Phantom.

“As you can see, your choice was obvious.”

If Danny had a physical form to view this in, he would have been shaking. He’d been living his life completely unaware of his fate, worrying over the ghosts, the pressure, his home and school life without knowing that the torment would continue even after he passed. 

“So this is why you brought me here?” His voice wavered. “To remind me that I’ll never find any peace?”

“Actually, I had planned to keep that fact hidden until your day arrived. I’m not as cruel as my brothers or you humans seem to believe.” His voice lowered, edging on a whisper. “There was a turn of events I had not foreseen. A change of fate perhaps only Clockwork knew of.”

Their vision began clouding with bursts of color, a tugging sensation dragging Danny’s consciousness through time and space.  It was like space mountain, the ride he had forced himself to go on in his childhood, only it came to a much more sudden halt. 

Clad in his father’s energy draining invention, Danny pressed against the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He feared he wouldn’t last, that the fight would have been in vain, were in not for a hand appearing and suddenly locking the coffin closed. When he knew it was safe enough to drop his guard, he turned to see all his enemies standing behind him in solidarity. 

They had stopped Pariah Dark’s vicious reign for good. 

“Although the other ghosts allied with you, you were the one that ultimately defeated Pariah Dark. You had secured your spot as next in line to be King of Ghosts. The realm between the living and the afterlife has experienced chaos for far too long, and it has finally come to an end with you.”

“Wait,” Danny balked. “So Kara and the queen...they were being serious when they called me that? But I’m just a kid! I wasn’t even given a choice!”

“You have a choice, don’t be haste. As for being a child, well...”

Scenes of Danny’s many fights played in a quick sequence, from his very early fumbles with the lunch lady, to his most recent and much cleaner fights with Freakshow and Undergrowth. He played through sleepless nights, and days where he felt like giving up, trapped in lockers by bullies, or looked at in disappointment by his parents.  

It was disconcerting to know his life was under constant watch.

“I would say you’ve dealt with what’s been thrown your way pretty well for your age. The underwater kingdom has already pledged their allegiance to you, have even begun calling you king when you are still but a prince. Countless others wait to do the same.” 

“You said I can choose not to be one though.” Danny returned to his previous concern. “What happens then?”

“To your life, nothing really. You live your days the same as you were,” Hades responded. “But know that as a prince you are granted a luxury you had not had before. You may choose your court. If they agree, they can spend their afterlife with you ruling the zone.”

“I won’t be stuck here alone?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“If those you decide on agree, then indeed. They will be granted a place in your keep. I must say, being King of Ghosts is a much more fulfilling endeavor than wandering on your own.” 

Danny bit his lip, eyeing the scenes still going on around him. “Do I have to decide this now?”

“What a convenient question, it brings us to our next topic of importance.”

Amity Park, in its days of small town glory, grew around them. To their left was a farmers market, people dressed in attire from the 80s flitting in between each stand. Behind a stall of oranges was a couple kissing, leaning against a black motorcycle. 

“I want be your girl forever, you know that Johnny?” A whisper spilled between kisses. 

“Only if I can be your guy,” the boy smiled, cupping his partner’s face. “Until the end of time.”

“Is that...” Danny choked. “I didn’t know they weren’t that old. They would’ve been my teacher’s age.”

“This is the same day they passed, a motorcycle accident. You would think they would’ve been limited to one place, or completely trapped in the zone, but your home is strange.” A breeze blew across the image. “Watch.”

“Ember said this is the last chance we have to come here, grab one thing and let’s go!”

“Wait, I think I see my old guitar up there, lemme just-” Johnny’s ghostly form flew up towards a shelf, grasping onto a leather case. “I missed this thing.”

“Johnny!” Kitty tapped her foot impatiently, glancing nervously over at a whirlpool of green in the corner of the dusty attic. 

“Alright, alright” He dusted himself off. “I’m comin’.”

Back in his own body, Danny gasped, sensation of being dumped in cold water shocking him awake. He was back in the reserve, sitting atop a throne in an eerie chamber. He didn’t know what to make of the final vision, except for confusion at the fact that natural portals existed in Amity long before the Fentons had interfered. 

“So Amity hasn’t been normal this entire time?”

“As much as hundreds of years. The supernatural has been attracted to this area, and it has grown over the ages. It’s been a gradual process, with the boundary separating the zone and Amity growing smaller.” A pause. “But ever since that portal was built, it’s been sped up. There’s only a handful of years left until it spills over completely.” 

“So this really is my fault?” Again, Vlad’s words blared mockingly in his head.

“The opposite really. Had the portal been opened without anything to stabilize it, reality would have collapsed in on itself. As it is, it had a host.” A chuckle. “You were quite the conductor.”

Danny couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped him at the odd interjection of a dark joke. He had to hand it to the man, he knew how to meet Danny’s humor halfway.

“To answer your final question,” He continued. “You have until the Ghost Zone melds with Amity to decide whether you shall be king. If you decide you are not the one, the crown will choose the next candidate. The King of Ghosts shall work closely with me to ensure a smooth transition of dimensions. Choose wisely, prince.” 

Without a further explanation, the lights in the hallway flashed, building melting around him to reveal what the reserve must have looked like prior to Hades’ arrival. The greenery that had once been there was back to being regular oak trees, with the occasional large shrub. In the distance, he could see shapes interspersed beneath a wooden canopy, moving slowly to sit up. 

As he approached, Danny realized that they were the people who had gotten lost in the reserve, looking unharmed and rather sleepy. The nearest to him gasped when she saw him standing on the very edge of their group. 

“Phantom?” She wiped at a red stain on the corner of her lip, shoving another young boy next to her. “Ross, get up, it’s Phantom!” 

Danny knelt down, bracing a hand on the boy’s back so that he could straighten himself out. “Hey, are you alright? Do you remember anything?”

Apparently in too much awe to speak, Ross simply stared at him, muttering a quiet “cool” under his breath. Taking the lead, the girl rolled her eyes and answered instead. 

“Sorry about that, he’s a huge superhero fan. My name is Jenny by the way.” She waved at herself and then Ross. “Me and my friend snuck out here last night ‘cause we heard this place was haunted. It was pretty spooky, but all I really remember was grabbing a pomegranate from a nearby tree and knocking out.” 

“Why’re you here? I mean, not like it’s a bad thing!” Ross said, panicked. “It’s just, is this like part of your lair or something?”

“Stupid, lairs are in the ghost zone,” Jenny cut in.

Unsure how to best phrase it, Danny pointed over to the other people, some of which were eyeing him warily. Raising his voice, he decided to be blunt. “I’m here because you’ve been trapped here for days. There’s a whole rescue team waiting outside for you.”

“Days?” A middle aged woman in the crowd screamed. “But I don’t even remember knocking out!”

“I do,” answered a young man. “I would wake up every once in a while, but I wouldn’t be able to touch anything. It’s like I was stuck in between something.”

Leaving them to talk among themselves for a moment, Danny reached up and tapped at the Fenton Phones. “Hello? Can anybody hear me?”

A quiet sizzle of static filled his ears, before switching to the looming voice of Officer Bryans. “Phantom, what’s going on? We were just about to go in.”

“No need,” Danny replied, eyes flickering over to the group in relief. “They’re safe, we’ll be right out.”

...

The next day, Danny sat at the table pretending that the run down his parents gave him was new information. It was all stuff he knew, from Phantom showing up at the raid unprompted to how he’d come out with the group of missing persons fifteen minutes later. It had felt much longer to him, but he supposed that time ran differently when around Hades’ influence. 

At his father’s insistence that the ghost was not to be trusted, Jazz sent him a worried look. Shrugging it off, he let his father rant, knowing that his explanation of the events had sounded sketchy to both his parents.

“He said that some spook got lost and mistook the Amity Reserve as his domain,” Jack huffed, stabbing at his pile of pancakes. “I can’t believe the other officers fell for it. This whole town is going nuts over that ghost!”

“I know, honey” Maddie rubbed his back comfortingly. “But he did manage to get those people out safe so at least he did something useful. Anyway, I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner kids.”

“It’s alright,” Danny smiled, glancing over at Jazz so that she knew he was really okay. “I get it, top secret. We’ve kept our fair share too.”

“Still, I like there to be trust between us,” there was a momentary furrow between her brow, quickly exchanged for a more cheerful expression. “But forget about that for now, how have you two been? I know we’ve been pretty distant.”

“I got into the summer internship I applied for!” Jazz supplied.

As he listened to his sister go into detail about her future endeavors in psychology, Danny thought back to how starkly different the previous night had been. He’d expected a battle with fists, but was met with the offer of a new path he could take altogether. 

He was aware that he was the best person to deal with the chaos Amity would face during the merge. He knew the town like he knew the constellations in the sky, and with the help of his friend’s and family, he had managed to keep it out of harm’s way. Whether he was alone or not, he knew he would keep doing so as a ghost when he passed.

He leaned back, a painful tension welling in his chest as he considered a future in eternal isolation. He imagined fighting ghosts, only to return to an empty lair, and then stopped as he entertained the other option. 

Danny thought of settling truces, rather than fighting. Of being in a palace surrounded by those closest to him that had decided their fate was also tied to guiding the spirits of the dead. He could picture Jazz walking struggling ghosts through their pain and helping them move on, or Sam and Tucker trekking with him to undiscovered dimensions. 

As he inspected his parents’ enthusiastic responses, he could even hope that one day they would use their passion for the sciences to help unite ghosts and humans, rather than divide him. 

He closed his eyes, thinking back to the visitor that decided to appear in his dream last night. A sense of calm washed over him, knowing that although he was stripped of one option, he was left with many others. 

Maybe he couldn’t be an astronaut, but being King of Ghosts didn’t sound too bad either.

....

He dreamt of a farewell feast in a dark temple, ripe fruits and fresh meats placed before him on a rounded table. By his side was a broad, bearded man, extending a platter of cheeses to him with a grin. He reminded him of Clockwork, only with a much stranger mix of strictness and sly character.

“Are you still afraid of what lurks in the dark, my prince?”

“It reminds me of dying,” Danny answered, passing it along to a woman sitting on his other side. “That was what it was like, right?”

“What you experienced was only a small fraction of it. Had Charon taken you to your true destination, you would have seen. It could’ve been to see your God, or to be reborn. Maybe it would have been to an eternal nothing. Who's to say?”

“I’m guessing you know then?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t tell me?” 

“You will see one day. Why spoil the surprise? Just remember, whatever they are, your beliefs hold value. Death is a personal experience, I would know.” He winked, raising a goblet up to the other occupants. “Now, let’s celebrate to a peaceful reign.” 

#Danny Phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #things that lurk in the dark #my fics #it took me a hot minute but the final part is heree