#it’s not even a ‘’i settle for scraps’’ situation either. i just do not need much to be emotionally satisfied

[mayearies]

✩ ABC’S

sfw alphabet with miles. genre: floof

—‘A’ IS FOR AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?) holy moly is he attached to you. he will literally take your attention away from whatever it is you’re doing and direct it towards him. 10 hugs, 20 kisses a day, sounds about right for him. he annoys you with it sometimes but he’s a cutie, so he gets a pass.

“mamiii, focus on meee”

—‘B’ IS FOR BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestie?) he’s a pretty energetic person so expect to do some dumb shit with him. a jokester but also will listen to you rant and vent about your life and will do all he can to distract you from it.

—‘C’ IS FOR CUDDLES (how do they like to cuddle?) hes big on cuddling. quality time in general is important to him. if you don’t like that he doesn’t fw you. in some situations he would be the big spoon, others he would be little. doesnt matter. in fact he doesn’t even really know what those terms mean. he’s also a fan of skin to skin contact to expect his hands to be somewhere on your upper body.

—‘D’ IS FOR DOMESTIC (settling down? how will they be helping out around?) would want to marry you as soon as his parents give him the okay. he’s down tremendous for you. he isnt the cleanest person (did you see his room 💀). he kinda just throws things wherever they are supposed to be. not the best at cooking, either. the only thing he can perfect are probably waffles or pop-tarts.

—‘E’ IS FOR ENDING (how would breakups work out?) lots and lots of tears. it doesn’t matter if you broke up with him or he broke up with you, he would be crying. he didn’t think he would be able to lose someone like you.

—‘F’ IS FOR FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment?) he wants to get married as soon as possible. he always rambled on about getting married and the places he would take you, the things you would see. you would have to tell him to slow down before thinking about all of that, but he wouldn’t listen (playfully).

—‘G’ IS FOR GENTLE (how gentle are they?) oh, he’s really gentle. he’s into the slow kind of love. he can be rough if you want him to, though. just not really how he likes things to go. he’s got a sweet tooth for you and you have one for him. only comes naturally. a few kisses traveling from your forehead, down to your cheek, stopping at your collarbone is all he needs.

—‘H’ IS FOR HUGS (do they like hugs?) he loves hugs. love love loves them. he can’t go an hour without some type of physical contact from you. he gives the best hugs too, he gets it from his dad. he likes it when you compliment the way he hugs you, you call him your little build-a-bear.

“aww mami, i love when you call me that. it makes me feel special!”

—‘I’ IS FOR I LOVE YOU (how long does it take them to say the ‘l word?’) pretty fast. unlike his other counterpart, he is pretty head over heels for you. he would probably say it on the second or third date you two had, of while in the talking stage. he probably doesnt even really know what a talking stage is because it’s his first relationship.

—‘J’ IS FOR JEALOUSY (how do they get jealous?) he’s not easily jealous. he would let you have guy friends but they can’t get too close. this man can get predatorial pretty fast. he would brush it off, dismissing it entirely.

—‘K’ IS FOR KISSES (whats their kissing schedule?) hes all for kissing. i mean all. everytime he sees you expect a kiss. the spot changes everytime so he’s unpredictable. but each spot has been kissed at least once. his favorite place is your lips because he likes how they feel. when you kiss him, he shuts down. but if he had to choose, he likes when you kiss him on his forehead or nose. makes him feel comforted.

—‘L’ IS FOR LITTLE ONES (how are they around kids?) kids like him, and he likes kids. more or less he tolerates kids. with him being spiderman, many see him as a rolemodel. i mesn, he does have his own cereal. and christmas song.

—‘M’ IS FOR MORNINGS (how will your mornings go?) scrap the morning routine, it does not exist anymore. he will tangle you in bed with his limbs and hold you there until he’s ready to wake up with you.

—‘N’ IS FOR NIGHTS (how will your nights go?) they're pretty much the same as the mornings. he just wants to drag you to bed and cuddle all night until the sun rises. something he always looks forward to.

"please come back to bed, i can’t live off of me dreamin’ of you."

—‘O’ IS FOR OPEN (when will they tell you about themself?) he would want to get as comfortable with you as possible. if you ask him a personal question, he might be hesitant to answer it but will come around sooner or later. he would let certain details about himself slip by without knowing what he just said.

—‘P’ IS FOR PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?) he's pretty laid back with you. he isn't one to get upset easily. but if he does get upset it might be over little things.

—‘Q’ IS FOR QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?) he tries to remember everything about you. emphasis on try. sometimes he might forget and with acknowledging on how forgetful he is, he will write important details about you in his sketchbook.

—‘R’ IS FOR REMEMBER (what is his favorite moment in your relationship?) his favorite moment? everything he's done. but if he had to choose it would be showing you his sketchbook that had a section dedicated to drawings of you, or that time you complimented his nose.

—‘S’ IS FOR SECURITY (how protective are they of you?) he's really protective. but he can't always express it. when he has his spiderman suit on, and say he's saving you from being robbed or hit on by someone else, best believe he will step in with that deep voice to protect you.

"thanks, but do i know you from somewhere? your voice sounds familiar." "whattt nooo! i've never seen you before in my life!"

—‘T’ IS FOR TRY (how much effort do they put into dates? special occasions?) depends on the day. if it's pretty busy with crime, then he would take you bowling or something along those lines. if we're talking a normal date, a normal date for him is doing graffiti in the subway and running from the po po.

—‘U’ IS FOR UGLY (what's a bad habit of theirs?) he can be sassy, as sassy as you. he does this when he's irked or annoyed. he has the most eligant eye roll for some reason too?

—‘V’ IS FOR VANITY (how insecure are they?) can be pretty insecure sometimes, but you don't mind assuring him he looks good. sometimes, he thinks deeply about how he got with someone like you. if he could live up to your expectations. but him being himself is all you ask for.

—‘W’ IS FOR WHOLE (would they feel incomplete without you?) yes.

—‘X’ IS FOR XTRA (a random headcannon about them?) he probably has tagged you somewhere throughout brooklyn where only he would know. consider it his safe space.

—‘Y’ IS FOR YUCK (what are some things they dislike?) he wouldn't like someone who lies often (💀), makes the whole time he spent with you seem like a waste of time.

—‘Z’ IS FOR ZZZ (some of their sleeping habits?) he's a pretty messy sleeper, on top of that—he's a heavy sleeper. he can sleep through almost anything. so, here's what is expected. you fall asleep envoloped in his arms as he lays in your chest and falls asleep to your heartbeat, then you wake up to the feeling of sheets everywhere, pillows gone, and him spread out on your bed.

© mayeluvsu 42 version

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 #sfw alphabet #miles morales headcannons

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Green Ribbon Is Staples

@astatia-ghast @q-gorgeous @mr-lancers-english-class @tourettesdog

Danny gets a lot of injuries but every so often he gets one he’s never gotten before, normally that’s just a pain since none of the trio usually know what exactly to do about it but they eventually manage; unfortunately this time it’s a little too revealing.

Chap. 1:

Decapitation Station

Okay. So. Danny’s got a problem. Or twenty. Twenty problems sounds more accurate. Why? Well um, lets rewind a little. 

See he was heading home, from detention due to missing homework, like usual, when his ghost sense did what his ghost sense does. So, you know, he had a fight to fight, ghostly ass to kick. It was good ol’ Boxy because of course it was, he should have figured honestly. But the surprising part? The real cut throat turn of events? Yeah apparently Boxy got his hands on multiple boxes -read: more than two- of barbed wire, ecto-barbed wire because apparently Jeb was trying to protect his chickens -he has chicken in his houses tiny back yard for some fucking inane reason, like seriously why? Ugh- from a ghost kitsune. 

So Boxy threw the boxes at Danny like he normally does. 

Danny let the boxes phase through him like he normally does, because come on? regular boxes are a shit weapon. 

But surprise! That turned out to be the dumbest decision he’s made in a long fucking time. Why? Well because the ecto-barbed wire inside the boxes, that he obviously could not see because the boxes were fucking closed, did not go through him like he expect. 

They did go through him though. Just... not the way he wanted them to. 

Meaning they went through him by cutting through him very literally. He’d realised his fuck up quick enough to minimise the damage but that was because the first box was aimed at his goddamn head. The Box Ghost got to be cut throat for the first time in his entire existence, at the cost of Danny’s head getting fucking whole ass flung into a grocery store wall. 

At least this is how Danny got to find out he could still move his body without its head. It’s also how he found out that decapitation is terrifying to ol’ Boxy. 

“I! AM SORRY! THAT IS NOT OKAY! I mean you are less circular now!”.

Danny takes the time to have his headless body kick The Box Ghost in the shin as his hearing cuts out before using his thermos, it’s hard as fuck to aim without being able to tell what he’s looking at. Since, apparently, he could use his body without a head but couldn’t use his head without it being still connected to his core, fucking great luck there. 

It’s still pathetically easy to catch Boxy, even effectively blind. Using the feel of ecto-energy and ghostly pressure, no matter how weak, to figure out his own location and Boxy’s, aim and fire and he gets the ghost on his third try. No quippy wit of course, since he was down a fucking head holy shit. 

At least he manages to find his head, it, unfortunately, does not auto reattach. 

... And he can’t see to stitch it on himself. Meaning he needs Sam or Tuck, preferably Sam. But she’s not a ghost, meaning he can’t just locate her ecto-signature. He also can’t just float around Amity cradling his head and hoping she fucking sees him. He also can’t call, because no mouth obviously. So that’s either three or four of his twenty some issues. The fifth is just the pure fact that Boxy of all ghosts is the one to put him in this situation in the first place, talk about embarrassing. Ugh. 

Danny settles for calling Tuck, who can absolutely trance the call with ease, and just scrapping the phone speaker on the floor and making thumping noises with his feet. He’d look up morse code if he could see. Zone if he didn’t have Tuck on speed dial he’d be fucked... on second thought he might not have even managed to call Tuck. 

Should he try again? 

Well it can’t make things worse. 

He calls about twenty times and maybe some go through maybe some don’t. He can’t hear if there’s a voicemail. Fuck how is he even gonna know if Tuck does show up? If he had at least one of his heads senses he’d be cool, Tuck always smelled like meat and metal, his voice was an obvious easy identifier or whatever, he did in fact know what the guy’s skin tasted like, and sight was easy. 

But touch was all he’s got right now and unless he’s touching a ghost, aka something with an ecto-field, he can barely tell the difference between people. Maybe whoever will clue in and write their name on his arm or something? He can only hope to be that lucky. 

…

He is not that lucky. 

In multiple ways.

Who ever he’s called is definitely not lean or skinny. Meaning they’re not any of the people he was cool with calling. It’s not Sam’s lean muscled arms with sharp pointed nails. It’s not Tuck’s skinny arms and calloused fingers. It’s not Jazz’s skinny arms and would have been shaking hands. Zone it’s not even Val’s lean toned arms and firm grip. 

Whoever it is has thick muscled arms and rough large hands. If the hands where bigger he’d think he really fucked up and called his dad, but they’re not. Plus, his dads hands would probably not be shaking. His dad wouldn’t be freaked out by an injured ghost. His dad would not be handling an injured ghost with gentle care. His dad would not be seemingly attempting to help. His dad would either ‘study’ him or hurt him or capture him. 

This person is doing none of those three things. This persons hands are shaking, they are freaked out, and they are helping. Meaning he should be okay enough at least. Problem is he doesn’t know if this person can do stitches well enough to align and reconnect stuff, or if this person is actually anyone he called and not some random person who just happened to be around. 

Danny’s got his head cradled in one arm and pressed against his stomach, the person is holding onto that arm, so Danny uses his free hand to point at his head then at his neck, making vague stitching motions and hoping the message is getting across. 

He can feel heavy breathes brush against his jumpsuit so he’s guessing that who ever took some restorative breaths, good? Hopefully otherwise he might be very fucked until someone else shows up. Either way Danny moves his head so that he can kinda feel the mangled detached end of it brushing against the mangled detached end of his neck, he thinks he got his head on the right angle but whoever hopefully can line up his spine for him. 

Wait shit, if this isn’t Sam, Tuck, or Jazz, which it obviously isn’t, then they won’t know he has a fucking spine since ghosts don’t normally have that shit. 

Quickly lifting his head up making the person definitely jerk, to flip it enough for whoever to see the spine end. Gesturing vaguely where he thinks the spine end is, then leaning his body/neck forward and physically grabbing his spine and tapping on it. Hopefully they get it, he gives whoever a thumbs up for moral support before going back to aligning his neck ends and holding his head steady with both hands. 

The person goes around his back, their knees pressing up against his lower back and ass, whoever was tall damn. Not his dad tall but definitely at least six foot. Even their knees are shaking though so that’s not great; hopefully they have a decent therapist. Great now he sounds like Jazz, ugh. 

The person does tentatively touch his spine bit and Danny’s pretty sure he can feel his heads bit of spine pressing into it. He keeps holding his head when the other person feels to get up.

... 

They didn’t just leave did they? The fuck??? Even if he is a ghost that’s still pretty fucked up to just leave him, especially when whoever poked at him and maybe tried to see if they could help. 

... Did they maybe go to grab some shit perhaps? Right yeah most people didn’t just walk around everywhere with medi kits and shit.

...

It is taking whoever a while if that’s what they’re- oh wait nevermind, based on the vibrations on the ground he’s going to guess the person is back and it seems like they’re running. Cool. Okay. Definitely had gone to get stuff. 

The person damn near knees him in the back when they get back down on the floor with him. Jerk. Danny would scoff or scowl if his head was freaking attached. 

They’re grabbing at his spine again so it’s definitely one hundred percent the same person. Good. Cool. He wasn’t totally abandoned headless by a random grocery store. 

Then he feels some seriously jarring vibrations travel down from the bit of spine attached to his skull, officially very confused. What the actually crap did whoever run off to get??? Then he feels cold metal on his bodies exposed section of spine, it feels kind of like a flat bar? Oh! OH! Okay he is absolutely getting a metal bracket drilled into his spine to hold it together, that was actually pretty fucked up. Effective hopefully but wow, oof. This was gonna suck so much later.

And now he can’t tell if the person is shaking because of being freaked out or because of the goddamn drill they’re taking to his spine. 

He thinks whoever drills on three brackets or metal rods, before the drilling fully and finally stops. He’s starting to get some feeling back in the rest of his spine and the bottom bit of his skull but his actual skin and hair and senses are still a lost cause. Whoever taps he’s shoulder very cautiously and draws a question mark over his jumpsuit, so Danny moves to hold his head up by the hair and takes the other hand off of his head to try and pinch the jagged detached edges of neck skin together, then making the stitching gestures again. He needs his skin at least somewhat securely connected for things to heal at a remotely functional degree, annoying but whatever. 

The person writes ‘ok’ on his skin, at least the person was calm enough to try communicating with him now. Neat but Danny’s not going to push shit, instead going back to using both hands to hold his head steady. Unfortunately he had expected this person to, you know, use a sewing needle or something and some fucking thread to stitch his skin up. What he hadn’t expected was the sudden feeling of being shot with two extremely shallow and thin bullets straight in the neck. Ancients fuck what the hell?!? He absolutely jerks from that. 

Okay so, this fucker is using a goddamn staple gun he thinks? Did whoever run off to a fucking hardware store? The next staple is a lot shakier and Danny makes a point not to jump, which gets him rewarded with the next staple being less shaky. Danny’s just going along with this because it should? maybe? actually work? Hard to say since he’s never reached for goddamn staples when he’s needed a bit of patching up. This person was probably hoping that securing his spine would be good enough. Well tough shit, his luck ain’t that fuckin’ good. 

...

.......

It takes a goddamn while, and he thinks the person is taking fortifying breathers every so often. Which is fair. Stapling a persons neck back on had to be super upsetting and freaky. But! He can actually hear -yes, hear!- the staple gun noises now. It’s alarming a little, way too much like the sound of some of his folks guns but he can take it. But eventually whoever does stop. 

“Holy shit this is, so fucked”. 

Wait... holy shit, Dash???? Why him of all people???? The fuck? Well... okay guess Danny can’t be complaining too much. The guy had a ton of hero worship going on, so he wasn’t going to dick his goddamn idol over. 

Danny tentatively lets go of his head and, when it doesn’t flop over or anything, he gives Dash a double thumbs up. 

“Oh, oh thank zone his heads not loling over. Holy shit”. 

Danny taps on his ears and gives another thumbs up. 

“Are... are you trying to say you can hear again? Fuck this is so screwed up”; it kinda sounded like he ran his hands through his hair roughly. 

Danny gives another, but far more eager, thumbs up. 

“That’s? That’s good right?”.

Another thumbs up from Danny.

“Okay good. Good. This is so not how I ever wanted to run into my hero. In to you. What the zone even happened?”.

Danny doesn’t know how Dash expects him to answer him. So he makes an ‘x’ with his fingers over his mouth or where it feels like his mouth is anyways. 

“Still can’t speak huh?”, he actually snorts even if it sounds shaky as Hell, “that must suck for you”.

Oh hundred percent yes. Danny’s a talkative bastard. Danny flips him off. Apparently that’s really funny because Dash just starts wheeze laughing, it sounds like he flopped down on the ground which is honestly probably really gross, fuck knows what’s on it. 

“Zone I just stapled Phantom’s neck together and he flipped me off, what the fuck is today oh ugh”.

Hey if anyone’s having a shit day here it’s him. Sure having to fix him would be pretty fucked but at last Dash wasn’t the one dealing with being fucking decapitated and oh hey his visions coming back some. Blurry as hell but he can, in fact, see. He glances around, there’s a lot of glowing green stuff, probably his ecto, he should probably clean that up; also, he now knows why he usually fixes himself up with thread and not staples, shit is tense and makes his skin pull. 

Eyeing Dash, who’s staring at him Danny thinks, Dash jerking and sitting up, “hey the blank stares gone, you got vision back?”.

Danny wiggles his hand back and forth in the air and makes a weird squeaking sound, shrugging. Dash shakes his head disbelievingly, “I can’t believe you can survive losing your freaking head. Man that’s cool. Super freaky and I’m going to have so many nightmares now”. 

“Air pee”. 

Dash looks at him deeply concerned, opening and closing his mouth a few times before shaking his head and getting up. “You good? I can leave? Wait shit, sign my arm!”. 

Danny rolls his eyes but does as he’s asked because he is not nearly enough of an asshole to refuse after the guy stapled and drilled his freaking head back on. Danny also gives him a pretty solid back pat, “you ‘ight”. 

“Thanks but no? I’m raiding my dads liquor cabinet immediately”.

Danny can’t even give him shit for that, even if even he knows that ain’t the best way to deal with fucked up shit. Shrugging and stretching out, a lot of things cracking and popping, nice he’s seeing actual proper details now and his spine feels more proper spine like. Shit was gonna take so long to heal though. “Jus’ don’ mae rum ceral an’ don’ wine up inna ‘rigerater”. 

Dash sounds horrifically disgusted, “ew and... I won’t?”, the jock somewhat cautiously walks away. Fair enough, Danny just put him through some whack ass shit and then basically admitted to having had rum cereal and crawling into a refrigerator.... 

Him and his stupid fucking mouth. 

...

Okay so what now, if he changes back right now he’s going to start bleeding red everywhere. Fuck right, he’s gotta clean up his ectoplasm. At least that’s a simple thing, floating back down towards the ground and setting it all on fire. Watching the blue flames for a bit and realising that he absolutely can not hide Dash’s patch job for shit.

Well.

Fuck him entirely.

And by ‘him’ he means himself, not Dash. Dash did the best he could and Danny could not expect anyone to do a stellar job of reattaching people’s heads. In fact, someone being remotely skilled at that should be deeply concerning. Even a ghost having that skill would be concerning.

Alright so first things first, find something reflective and check Dash’s work out. Hmmmm. Okay so a chunk of shiny metal will have to do. Him lifting the piece up and around his neck to check it out, flames still burning away, as Sam arrives.

“Danny why did I get a soundless thumping call and why is this entire area on fire?”.

So Dash did a pretty okay-ish job, like yes all the staples are almost all uneven and less than straight, some aren’t in properly and one looks like it got bent to fuck. But his skin is knitting itself back together.

Danny turning around to wave at Sam gets him an instant gasp of horror. “Oh fucking zone, what happened!”.

Danny holds up a finger, “so I can survive decapitation and Dash know’s how to use power tools”, and floats himself around her enough for her to look at his neck, even she’s being leery about touching it or moving his head around. At least his vocal cords have put themselves back together, even if it sounds like he’s eaten an entire box of nails.

“Damn your voice sounds like shit”, she winces, poking one of the staples which Danny absolutely twitches in a bit of discomfort from. Okay so this shit was gonna hurt like a bitch when he changes back, ugh. Her frowning and digging in her pocket, “okay sit down, I’m at least attempting to straighten this shit out. I’m not taking out the staples, it’s healed some so it’ll do less damage to just let your body dissolve the metal”.

“Yeah he also drilled fucking hardware brackets into my spine”.

“Why would let him use that!”.

“I couldn’t see or hear or speak! Sam! I couldn’t tell who it even was that was trying to give me a patch up!”.

Sam rubs her temples sighing, pointing at the ground which fine Danny floats back down towards. At least the flames are dying out, yay for not leaving a crime scene level of ectoplasmic mess that could be traced back to him! Her getting to work immediately, “geez he pulled your skin too tight in some spots and not tight enough in others. Some spots aren’t even lined up well!”.

“Sam give the guy a break, he was terrified! And remotely normal people do not know how to put skin back together unless they’re literally doctors”.

“Yeah well this is going to heal really nasty, it’s already healed nasty”, she points at his face with a slightly ectoplasm stained finger, “and you aren’t missing any jumpsuit meaning unless you feel like adding a choker to your costume you can’t cover this up”.

He was unfortunately aware of that. As Phantom it wasn’t… too big of a deal. It would just raise questions about ghosts being able to get scars and how he got it and if he had more. Zone his folks might even rework some of their research over this. But… it would make people worry and he didn’t want that. “Considering the choker wouldn’t even be part of my actual form, I’d just wind up wrecking it. But-”.

She huffs, unclipping her own choker and holding it in front of his face, “you better have been about to say ‘but I should at least cover it up while it’s healing’ Danny. I have a million of these things, go ahead and destroy a few”; she drops it on his lap and continues moving his floating ass around to stitch between the staples.

Danny sighs to himself, careful not to swallow or move his Adam’s apple too much, “fine, but I’m just going to wear turtlenecks as Fenton, a chokers a little too attention drawing when I don’t normally wear that shit”.

She just scoffs as she continues her work.

Would a turtle neck hide this shit? Not if anyone remotely looked at him with any degree of attention even slightly. Like a child wouldn’t notice purely by being a lot smaller than him but that’s it. Unfortunately a choker or handkerchief will just make people more likely to look at his neck, and bandages would be even worse. Aka he doesn’t really have any options here.

Sam nodding and leaning back, “okay, you’re good. This is a seriously messed up injury though, you caught the ghost who did this? It was a ghost right?”.

Danny blushes immediately, “it was a ghost yeah, and ugh, I’m never living this down”, sighing into a hand and trying to ignore the way the staples pull, “it was fucking Boxy”. She laughs scandalised at him. Danny groaning more, “yeah yeah laugh it up. He actually scared himself”. She laughs even more and fine he joins in a little too. Fuck today so much.

…

After a bit she pokes his floating ass, “you should change back, so you get over the pain before we get you home and in bed. Your parents are still doing late night hunts right?”.

Danny sighs, putting his feet on the ground and nodding, “unfortunately, yeah”, moving to rub his neck before remembering that would be a fucking dumb idea and scratching his hair instead, his head felt unpleasantly fresh, “sure it means I don’t have to deal with their questioning but ugh”. They would somehow manage to get themselves involved in one of his late night ghost fights and shoot at him, it was annoying and every time it happened whatever ghost he was fighting legit debated throwing hands with his parents for real. Some purely because the Fenton’s shot first, others because they were interrupting their chosen ‘Phantom fist-a-cuffs’ time, others because they knew Phantom wouldn’t do it himself.

Anyway.

Human time.

Ha. This was gonna suck. Sure not as much as that time Tuck had to haphazardly shove his organs back inside him and Danny had to change back before said organs could reorganise themselves, but still. He cringes his whole face up in anticipation as he lets the change flow over him. “ANCIENTS FUCK!”, bending over, one hand on a now shaking knee, and the other tenderly over the front of his neck.

Ow.

Holy shit.

Fucking Hell he is never getting decapitated again. Oh Ancients.

He can taste metal inside his throat and he can’t tell if that’s blood or actual literal metal. The spine bolts are awful actually, he should not have let Dash do that. Oh he is regretting everything so much. “FUCK! OW! WHY DID I LET HIM DO THAT!”.

Sam pats his back as he drops his hand from his neck, touching would only make it worse, both hands on his knees and wheezing now. His neck was on fire and extremely cold all at once and it was fucking stupid and he hated it. He can feel his ecto attacking the metal, it burned more than he’d like. Swallowing, “oh that was such a bad idea”, he is not eating anything for a while. Pushing himself to stand up and blinking tears out of his eyes, “I, ow, am phasing all my food directly into my stomach for a while. Oh zone, this sucks”.

San pats his back again, “figured. Definitely no swallowing utensils for you for a bit”.

“Sam, if a fork prong got caught on or nicked the stupid bolts, which some are definitely partly inside my throat and bolted back to my spine, I will scream immediately”. Zone he would have screamed from changing back if he hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt like a son of a bitch.

She nods, “and I wouldn’t blame you”, scowling, “I still can’t believe you let Dash drill fucking Home Depot bolts into your neck. You know how dirty those things probably were? Ugh. Now stand still, you’re leaking”.

Danny has to clench his fists something fierce, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, to keep from flinching as she wipes a cloth around his neck. Rolling his eyes at her whipping the side of his mouth too with a stupid smirk. “How bad does it look?”; he does not feel like going through the effort and pain of trying to use that bit of metal to look it over again.

“Bad. Danny. Gnarly and jagged. The staples stick out really harshly”, frowning and crossing her eyes as they cautiously and carefully make their way out from behind/around the grocery store which was thankfully closed. “When I stitch you up I always try to make it blend smoothly with your skin as much as possible, Dash was definitely not thinking about that, which fine I can’t blame him for, but still”, grimacing, “you better be really careful about what turtlenecks you wear, otherwise the staples are going to catch on the fabric”.

Danny full body winces, oh zone that would suck. He might maybe be able to resist screaming at that but he’ll definitely at least suck in a really ragged breath and curl in on himself. He was used to pain but still; he doesn’t even want to move his head or neck around. And of course his voice still sounded like hot garbage but considering the bolt attaching the inside of his throat to his spine that made sense. He really wishes Dash had positioned that one bracket and set of bolts differently. He can absolutely feel the metal bar being squished between his throat and spine. Ugh.

Shaking his head as they finally make their way back to FentonWorks. Sam giving him another pat, “you good to see yourself to bed or am I helping the injured baby”. 

Danny snorts, “oh shove it”, chuckling, “I can handle my self but I am absolutely taking the fuzzy blanket off of my bed because I do not want to get woken up by my bed ripping out a staple”. 

“Smart choice”.

She heads off with a simple wave and chuckle at Danny sticking out his tongue, at least he had motor control of said tongue again. Okay, now get lunch and go to bed before his parents possibly show up. 

He grabs out the left over chilli, that is thankfully not sentient or moldy, and phases it into his stomach. Was it going to take a bit to digest? Yes, obviously. But he was absolutely not chewing this shit and swallowing it. He’s had enough unintentional pain for one day that he absolutely does not feel up to adding in any intentional pain. 

The fluffy blanket that was super comfortable especially when his muscles were all achey, gets torn off and left on the floor in a heap. His floor isn’t exactly ‘clean’ but that doesn’t really matter to his sorry ass; he is going the fuck to sleep. 

“Nocturne bless this fucking bed”. 

Chap. 2:

The Un-hide-able Kind Of Damage

Did Danny sleep the whole night away? Obviously not. That never fucking happens. But no one serious showed up and every single one that showed up took one look at his neck and noped out. Apparently there was a bit of a code to not mess with Phantom if he was rocking some injury that was really fucked up. It’s didn’t help that it looked gnarly regardless of form... the choker barely helped and he forgot it almost every time. 

But he managed to make it to morning without further neck or throat damage. He also did not see any online photos or videos of the damage, so far so good. 

He absolutely meticulously inspects his turtleneck options for loose thread or snaggy material. He’s left with a total of three wearable sweaters, not great but not, you know, bad either. The one he goes with is a dark red, in case he bleeds a little, and has a burning Christmas’s tree on it, because anytime is the right time to say fuck you to Christmas. Dumbass holiday, that one. He phases the thing on because he is not dealing with trying to get his head and thusly neck through the long turtleneck part, shit’s painful enough as it is. Him fiddling with the collar in the mirror, the wound is still jagged enough that the fabric brushing against the edges sends twinges of pain up and down his neck. It’s not great. Not at all. Plus, it covers the wound about as well as he expected it to; if anyone one stares or specifically looks at his neck then he’s screwed. 

He’s seriously tempted to just... not go to school. Zone spending the day laying in the park would be better. But the lasts thing he needs is the school calling his parents and them wanting to have a talk with him. Or everything forbid he runs into them while he’s supposed to be in class. Even if he was still getting along with them, which he’s not going to be anytime soon, he wouldn’t want them around him to possibly notice he’s injured. 

Meaning school pretty much has to happen. Sighing to himself and moving down the stairs gingerly enough to not make his sweater move, heading out to go suffer through wildly unnecessary schooling. 

…

He waves at Sam and Tuck, they’re huddled by his locker, man does he ever love them. Tuck looks so worried at him, “show me immediately. What the hell, man”. 

Danny smirking and gingerly pulling out and down his sweater, wincing a little from the pressure against the back of his neck, “Sam told you?”.

Tuck’s entire face cringes up, “damn that’s hardcore, did you actually thank Dash for doing that to your poor neck”. 

Danny letting go of his sweater and bopping the techno geek on the head, “he literally reattached my head, of course I did”, shrugging, “sure the way he did it is a little shit and a pain in the ass but at least I have a head again”. 

Both of them roll their eyes at him but they’re smiling so it’s pretty clear it’s all in good fun and jest. Tuck poking him, “oh and we’ve already agreed that we’re taking your notes because you absolutely shouldn’t be lifting and lowering you head constantly for hours. You should be attempting to heal”.

“Pfft, since when do I go out of my way specifically for healing but I’m lazy and you guys know that, meaning you know I’m not gonna say no”. 

All three chuckling as him and Tuck head to their first class, Sam going her own way after a bit. 

Danny makes it though exactly twenty three minutes of class before his ghost sense goes off. At least the ice going up his throat felt faintly soothing, as he shoots his arm up, “bathroom”, and leaves without being given the go ahead. No one ever tried to stop him anymore, all he would get was annoyed glares or sad ones in Lancer’s case.

Pulling into the bathroom and changing, relishing the lack of pain for a bit before zipping up invisibly through the ceiling; he’s got a ghost to track down. 

He has absolutely no issue finding the ghost. Why? 

Because he immediately head butted a motorcycle the second his head exited the fucking roof top.

His poor neck. Zone. Why him? 

Danny floating backwards, rubbing his head and grumbling, “Johnny? What the hell, man?”. 

“Oh damn you really did get decapitated, huh?”. 

“The fuck you think? Duh”, sighing and crossing his arms at the ghost, “did you just show up to see for yourself?”. He’s going to be a little pissed if that’s the case. He can do without the ghosts doing ‘wellness checks’ on him anymore than certain ones already did. 

Johnny snorts, “surprised it didn’t wind up mounted on a wall”. 

To be fair, that’s kinda what Danny himself thought would be what happened if he ever did lose his damn head, but that was mostly because of Skulker being the only one that usually tried to ‘relive’ him of his head. Scoffing, “as if I’d ever let Skulker’s sorry ass take my freaking head. Now are you gonna leave peacefully or are you gonna start doing donuts on the rooftop?”. 

“That second one sounds pretty solid but I don’t feel like dealing with your head falling back off because that looks like a damn hack job”.

“Hey! You try fixing anything while blind, deaf, and unable to taste or smell!”.

“Damn”. 

Danny chuckling, “I know, right? Now you leaving or?”, and making shooing motions. 

Johnny smirks, revving his engine. Danny sighing mentally because he knows that translates to ‘let’s play tag, mother fucker’. Johnny shoots off with a, “depends if you can catch me, Phantom”. Typical.

“Damn it, Johnny!”. And now Danny’s off chasing Johnny and his stupid motorcycle. He rarely actually tries to shoot the guy because it feels like a dick move when all the guy generally does is street race and drive on roofs. Hell some of the twenty-something’s actually adored the biker and would race him; which fine Danny let slide because he thought it was a nice human/ghost bonding experience even if it was technically a crime. But hey, Danny’s existence was technically a crime too so why should he care anyways? 

Plus, if he’s being honest, chase racing him was kinda fun, felt a little more like being his actual age again. It’s was practically play for him, which was slightly sad, but they only make it a few streets down and destroy one streetlight before Danny’s got Johnny souped. Danny flipping the thermos in the air a little sillily.

“Oh zone! are you okay!”.

Danny jerks in the air and looks somewhat down at the person that looked to be having tea on their balcony. “Yes, worry not citizen”.

Fuck Danny’s luck, the guy points at his own neck, “uh, you sure about that?”.

Crap. What should he say? “Worry not, it’s not fresh and is healing perfectly fine”. Danny salutes and basically flees the conversation. Especially since he heard the guy whisper about how ‘holy shit ghosts can get actual long term injuries???’. Not good.

He basically speed walks to his home ec class with Sam. Poking her a little hard and trying to ignore the stupid pain in his throat and the fact that he’s pretty sure headbutting a motorcycle bent on of the brackets Dash drilled to goddamn his neck, “a civilian noticed”.

“Well shit. Not surprised but still”, Sam shrugs, “well Tucker’s got any mentions of you set up to ping him so we’ll see if this person keeps things to themselves or not”.

After all, there really wasn’t much else any of them could do.

…

Does he get a ping from Tuck? Absolutely. It takes all of eight minutes. Danny groaning to himself, he’d thump his head on the table but that would probably hurt something fierce.

Treft26fu: @ whoever DECAPITAED Phantom, you suck and he is weirdly okay with it

Treft26fu: or maybe whoever just wrapped a cord around his neck and TRIED to decapitate him

Treft26fu: anyway this just in ghosts can get proper people like injuries

The guy goes on a tangent for a while actually. Tuck’s managed to actually block the comments from being visible to anyone, thank fuck. Tuck throwing a proper text his way.

Geek: what do you want me to do if he notices no one’s responding to his comments?

Danny humming to himself, the vibrations down his throat aren’t great but aren’t bad either. Well most people would be annoyed if they found out Phantom was silencing them or someone else.

Ghost: pretend to be the G.I.W. silencing people from releasing ghosts are sentient feeling beings

Geek: *snort* nice. So that’s ’I’ll take anti-G.I.W. propaganda for $100’.

Ghost: I’ll take subtle beginning of an uprising for $200

Geek: creating deepfakes in 3… 2.. 1.

Danny just rolls his eyes at the guy not responding after that. Mrs. Canecher snapping, “eyes up here, Fenton”, startling him a little and making him jerk; more than a few people laugh at him. Jerks.

At least he makes it through the rest of his class, goddamn.

Of course that’s exactly when shit goes south. In the form of one Dash Baxter… again kinda. Dash bodily shouldering him into the wall as soon as Danny makes it out of the classroom. And of course Danny winces from that, because getting bashed into a wall is kind of jarring to the fucking bolts and staples in his fucking neck, thank you very much Dash.

Dash’s sneer is practically a growl, even if his eyes don’t really look to be in it, “aw look at little pathetic Fen-tiny flinching from a wall. How ‘bout I give you a real reason to flinch from me”.

Dash grabbing his sweater collar and yanking him up off the ground at the same time as both Danny and Sam snap, “don’t!”.

Dash of course scoffs at their attempt to stop him, sneering down at Danny and ramming him into the wall. Danny closing an eye, wincing, and hissing in pain and frustration. Why did Dash have to be such a fucking jerk all the time? And oh great it feels like that bent bit of metal bracket is being pressed into a fucking vein or something since a quarter of his neck is going numb and fuzzy. Fucking ow. He can feel some portions of nails getting pushed deeper into his skin and blood welling up around them. Wheezing, “put me, down, Dash”; wow his voice sounded extra shit. Like he’d gone and rubbed sand paper on all the nail cuts.

Then Sam, his boss ass him-damned friend, has her boot off and wielded in record time, fully prepared to beat Dash with it regardless of Danny making it very clear he doesn’t want his friends doing that shit to Dash or any other bullies for his sake. He’d rather himself be bullied than anyone weaker/more fragile. Hopefully the fact that she’s doing that when she normally doesn’t is enough to make Dash realise that she’s serious and he needs to fuck off.

Course Dash doesn’t even seem to notice, instead glaring down at a glaring Danny. Which at first makes Danny think this is some ‘dominance’ crap where Dash is just trying to get him ‘scared’ and get him to ‘back down’ and act meek. But a second or two going by and Dash’s glare looking progressively more horrified, gets Danny to actually slap Dash’s wrist off of him.

Shit.

Okay.

Flee?

Flee.

The second Danny’s feet are back on the ground he grabs Sam’s wrist and books it; Dash too stunned to do anything till Danny’s got them around a corner. Danny turning the two of them invisible immediately so he can tenderly put a few fingers up to his throat and wheezing in pain.

Sam whispering, “you good”. Danny shaking his head, blinking away a bit of tearing, and whispering back, “honestly no. He’s, he’s, probably, the worst, person to, notice, this”.

“Considering it’s his handy work?”.

Danny winces a little, nodding slightly and being mildly pissed at the way that pulls on the staples.

Both stilling and staring when Dash, still looking a little horrified, appears around the corner and looks around, him frowning in confusion, “what? Where?”. When he seems sold on currently being alone he stares at the ground, then at his slightly shaking hands, and mutters, “am I just hallucinating now?”, and actually curls in on himself a little as he walks off quickly.

Great. Now Danny feels bad. He’s not trying to make Dash question his own sanity! Ugh. And then Danny feels something hard and definitely metal drop in his throat, instantly sending him into a coughing fit, and practically collapsing to the floor in pain; he absolutely drops the invisibility without really paying any attention to having done so. Sam following him down to ground, worried.

Of course all this results in Dash basically rushing back to see Danny kneeling on the ground, one hand on his throat and another on the ground, while Sam is rubbing his back and glaring bloody murder at the returning jock.

Danny coughs up the end of one of the fucking bolts, it clinking on the ground is extremely loud and it fucking rolls away because of course it does, rolls away right into Dash’s shoe. The clink of it falling over feels like a thunderclap while Danny’s still wheezing and screwing his face up in pain.

At least no one’s in the hallway now, having moved quickly off to their classes the second Sam started actually threatening Dash with her boot; her wrath was well-feared, good. She’d be proud, if Danny wasn’t currently groaning into the floor.

Danny lifting up his head enough to eye Dash staring down at the bolt end touching his foot, Danny deciding fuck it and flopping onto his back on the ground with a wet cough and wince. Sam glancing down at him, “you going to just lay there?”, then going back to staring at Dash.

Danny groans again, absolutely crying a little, “I, am ’ever, lettin’, ‘one bolt, my fuckin’, ’eck, agin”.

Dash fucking squeaks of all things and shuffles over to stare down at Danny, cautiously avoiding the glaring goth. Danny glares at Dash without much feeling, “what? Go’, any ‘ore insuls, to ‘row, my ‘ay?”, coughing wetly and wiping at his mouth with a sleeve, careful not to jostle his head, “or ‘eel, like tossin’, e ‘round, ‘ore?”.

Dash blinks harshly and speaks again, “Phantom? You… coughed up a bolt end”, the guy is fiddling with the damn corroded off bolt end, the green burning on it is very stark. Why the fuck was the guy fiddling with that thing? Ugh.

Sam jerking out a hand, glaring at the jock, “give it and go away”.

“What? I- no! Screw off Manson!”. Ah Dash sounds slightly more normal now. Still freaked but not weirdly flat anymore.

Danny snickers, wincing from his throats bullshit, “I ‘ean, ur the one, eno ‘rewed my, ‘roat”.

Sam groans immediately at him, “goddamn it, Danny”.

Even Dash winces down at him, “Zone fuck, holy shit, you’re… Phantom?”, the guy drops the bolt and runs his hands through his hair, “oh zone I reattached Fenton’s head, zone”. Sam running after the rolling bolt, “damn you too, Dash”. Danny has faith she’ll get it before it causes any issues. Dash is busy pacing in circles currently so…

Yeah. Not helpful.

Fuck his neck felt kinda totally raw in spots and based on the wetness on the back of his neck and head he’s gonna guess he’s making a bit of a puddle of blood. Fun. Ow. Wheezing, “this, this is, ‘finitly the ‘econd, wors’ ‘jury, I’ve had”. He can feel one of the holes in his throat sliding back and forth across the length of the bolt when he talks or swallows. This is hell a little bit.

Dash stops and crouches down on his ankles near Danny’s head staring at him but only kinda seeing him, “second? Worst?”, sputtering, “decapitation? Is second place? What? And I’m? Staring down at Phantom?”, blinking harshly, “Fenton’s-your Phantom?”.

Sam comes back and smacks Dash over the head, “you better keep that to yourself, jackass, now help me move Danny to a bathroom or else”, and grabs one of Danny’s arm, Danny just smacking her with the other as a way to give it over. At least Dash jerks up harshly and does grab his ankles, because yeah Danny’s not standing up right now, not a chance. Dash muttering, “never met your heroes, you might have to put their head back on and find out they’ve been letting you beat them up”.

Danny, with his head resting on one arm so he doesn’t have to strain his -very injured and still stitching itself back together- neck muscles to hold his head up, “gla’ ta see yur handlin’ tis well”. As it is, all this being moved crap is making him feel like one of the staples has popped out partly and is just swinging around tugging on bits of still attached skin.

“Danny, shut up before you jack your throat up even more”. Danny huffing an extremely cold breath at her for that. Her glaring down at him, “jerk”, he can tell her hearts not really in the insult though which was absolutely because he was being an ass purely because his throat felt like it was trying to rekill him and AND now someone has basically figured his shit out. Ugh.

At least they make it into the bathroom, without anyone noticing. Of course the door swings back open the second it closes though, it’s Tuck thank everything; meanwhile Sam vaguely gently puts Danny’s arms, and thus head and neck and upper back, down. Sam and Tuck rounding on Dash who’s still holding Danny’s ankles up for some dumb reason, they point aggressively at the jock, growling, “you”.

Danny wheezing from his less than comfortable position only halfway laying on the floor, “‘ash, if ya ‘on’t, put me ‘own, Imma, ‘ick ya”. Dash doesn’t even react to Sam’s and Tuck’s fingers pointing in his face so Danny absolutely intangibly frees an ankle from the guys hand and kicks him one in the chin; Dash sputtering and dropping Danny’s other ankle immediately.

At least he’s now back entirely on the ground, the nice cold sweet ground. The faint metallic plink on the ground absolutely means he definitely lost a staple though, way too quiet to have been a whole ass bolt; plus he’s pretty sure there’d have to be a big gapping hole for one of those to actually fall through a hole in his skin then onto the floor. The plink also getting Tuck’s attention, him lifting Danny’s head up gingerly and pocketing the kinda eroded staple, Danny doesn’t even look at him, “today is ‘hit”.

Tuck ruffles his hair quickly, “and you sound like shit”, before standing back up and crossing his arms at Dash.

“Ya rye ahvin’ a suck in’ ‘roat wound”.

Sam sighs, explaining to Tuck for Danny, “he coughed up a bolt end and even though I told him to stop talking he won’t shut up”, glaring at Dash more aggressively, “so?”. While Tuck gives Danny a chastising, “dude”. Danny just shrugging his shoulders, wincing at the neck movement, and going back to staring emptily at the bathroom ceiling.

He really shouldn’t have come to school. Like at all. Absolutely terrible decision. Stupid him. Stupid stupid him. Ugh.

Dash’s swallow is loud and makes Danny internally cringe at how much swallowing that aggressively would hurt right now. “So the thing I gave myself a massive hangover over has come back to haunt me on Fenton’s neck, what the fuck”.

Danny blinks, wheezing instead of chuckling, “ah. Ya ‘ctually raid-ed, folk’ lior’ cabnet?”.

Sam and Tuck giving him judgemental looks, while Dash throws his hands out baffled, “I spent an hour shaking and stapling my heroes neck what of course I did-what-oh-my-zone-this-is-a-nightmare”, and starts pacing in circles again.

Tuck chuckles though, eyeing the jock, “are you saying that because Phantom’s Fenton or because of having to deal with a horrific injury”.

“Both!”, Dash stops and gestures aggressively at the geek, “both”, sticking both arms down at Danny, “how even? Zone fuck did your parents experiment on you or something?”, screwing up his face and seemingly speaking more so to himself, “can I get away with beating the Fenton’s up?”.

Danny snorts, wincing, “ow fuck. Naw, my ‘ad, will ‘reak you, ‘ike a ‘ooth-ick, ‘ash”.

“That doesn’t mean he will!”, shaking his arms at Danny, “you didn’t”,

Sam scowls down at Danny, “Danny, shut. Up”, then walking closer to Dash and pointing a finger right in Dash’s face, “one, Danny will be mad if you try to fight his dad. Two, he’ll stop you and fuck his throat up more anyways. Three, it was an accident that you have no damn right to know anything about you asshat. Four-”, signing and dropping her hand, “-my opinion of you just, unfortunately, went up a notch”.

Danny blinking and turning his head, ow, enough to look at her, “oily ‘hit”,

“Shut. Up”.

Danny huffs at her, pushing himself to sit upright with some effort, pointing at Dash then shrugging and dropping his hand.

Dash blinks, “how are you so calm if you’re not dead”.

Tuck groaning, “oh he is dead, just not entirely”.

“That makes zero sense, loser”.

Danny is having none of that, he lifts a hand up again and ecto-blasts the bathroom stall next to Dash’s head. Dash jumps, squeaks, and slowly looks to stare at Danny wide-eyed. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “bad”.

“I- um- okay?”, Dash still sounds squeaky, looking at Sam and Tuck, “holy shit you’re sidekicks”.

For once both Sam and Tuck facepalm for a reason other than Danny being a dumbass. Tuck laughing while Sam sighs, “yes, Dash, obviously”, gesturing at Danny who grins dumbly, “you really think we’d let this dumbass do shit on his own? He’d do something stupider than he usually does”, grimacing at Danny, “Danny, you’re leaking again”.

This time it’s Tuck sighing and grabbing some paper towel to clean Danny’s throat and mouth off. Danny’s almost tempted to wheeze really hard to maybe get blood splattered around but that would be really dumb and really painful for no good fucking reason. He just really hates today and his stupid body right now. Grinning instead, “‘ink ya can un’end a bracke’? Kinda ‘ill ’on’t have feelin’ in ‘art of mi ‘eck”.

Tuck glares at him, “what”, sighing disbelievingly, “you shoulda mentioned that immediately, man. Why do you do this shit to us and yourself”.

Dash flinching, “did I mess up?”, while Tuck moves around to where Danny’s tapping his neck. Danny shrugging, “I ‘ean, num’ ‘eans naw pain, sew”, and shrugs. And sure, part of his mouth was also numb which wasn’t great but hey at least the pain is mostly only radiating from other sections of his neck, giving him one little area of relief.

Sam gestures at Danny though still staring at Dash, “see what I mean. A Dumbass”.

Dash actually nods agreeingly, jerk, before backing up a step or two when Tuck pulls out his personal media kit and one of those sharp art knives from inside, tweezers too but that was probably less startling to the jock. “Going to have to rip a few out, man. And probably cut some stuff”. Him yanking out a staple actually takes so much effort Tuck falls on his back.

Danny cringing, ow, “my ‘ody sure ha’ attichme’ isdues, huh?”. Tuck pushing himself up and clamping down on another staple, “you suck. Sam you wanna help instead of glaring Dash out of existence?”.

The goth huffs, points aggressively at Dash, “you. Stay”, before moving over and grabbing the wannabe scalpel; Danny gripping his knees at the almost feeling of sharp metal on skin.

Oh great it kinda looks like Dash is shaking a bit again. Lovely. But the guy shakes himself off somewhat and actually comes over to help, sorta help at least, too. Grabbing Danny’s shoulders to, Danny guesses, keep him steady.

Danny absolutely feels the second Sam, or Tuck he’s not looking, gets the metal unbent. Him jerking forward, a hand to his neck and headbutting Dash’s chest, “ow! Fuck! Shit! Agh!”. Okay note to self, no pain for a while thanks to numbness equals sudden intense pain when numbness goes goodbye bye. Ow. Why is he so stupid? And Dash is so startled he doesn’t even move or do anything more than huff like he just got the wind knocked out of him which he probably did; Dash falling on his ass seconds later, “shit Fenton! Ow!”.

Sam moving quickly to stitch up the hole she had to cut in him to get good enough access to fix his shit, “stay still, your lucky you didn’t rebend the thing”, grumbling to herself, “at least that jerk bought solid brackets”.

Dash wheezing a little and rubbing his chest, “I wasn’t going to patch freaking Phantom up with cheap shit he’d break in a fight”.

Tuck getting up to clean things, and himself, off in the sink, “that’s actually smart, congrats”, eyeing Sam and Danny, “how’d it get bent anyways”.

Sam growling without looking away from the work she’s almost done, “Dash here slammed him into a wall”.

Danny, kinda staring at Dash as something to do and trying to ignore the pain and pulsing, “actulie I head’utted Jon’s ‘ike”,

“Why would you do that!”.

“Acci’en’! Gosh!”.

Sam huffing, “well the wall didn’t help”, then looking at Dash as she cleans her own hands, “like I said, he’s a dumbass”.

Dash nods slowly, “yeah”, looking down at Danny, who’s just sitting on the ground slightly curled in on himself, “is, are you gonna be good? And why did this hurt but not me drilling your spine?”.

Tuck actually gives Dash a supportive backhanded swat on the arm, grinning, “don’t worry about it, he heals like a beast. Also, he doesn’t feel pain as Phantom”.

Danny straightening out some and stretching, wincing at the throat hole moving over the exposed bolt again, “a ‘essing and curs’”, and promptly coughing again, spitting up metal bits, at least he caught all the shreds and corroded bits in his hand this time. Grimacing at the mess of spit, blood, and metal; getting up with a stagger to wash his hand off, “ew”.

Dash gestures aggressively at Danny as Danny turns around to eye him, “I wouldn’t call that ‘healing’ at all!”.

“Dude, ya re-atta-ed mi ‘ead! Imma ‘ay Imma doin’ a damn ‘ood job”. Oh hey, it’s slightly easier to talk now, cool. It feels like that one hole is closing up now, that musta been where the metal he was just coughing up came from.

Dash opens and closes his mouth, humming and shrugging after a beat, “yeah I guess that would kill most people, huh”. Danny wheeze laughing as Sam and Tuck shout, “YES!”, at that.

No one says anything for a bit until Danny clears his throat, which was dumb to do, and winces. At least one throat hole is gone now, he is so not going to class until he apparently coughs up the other bolt end. “Okay. So. We ‘ood?”.

Tuck grinning at Danny, “well you sound slightly better”.

Danny shrugging, “bye bye ‘aping throat wound”. Tuck gives him a thumbs up like a real friend. Then, of course, he feels the other bolt end inside his throat fall, fuck. That of course causes another coughing fit that sends him to the ground again, Tuck and Sam rushing over to pat his back hard till the damn bolt gets coughed up. Danny just groaning and rolling to lay on his back again, “mevar ‘ind”.

Dash wheezes, “I- um, we’re good. Yeah we’re good. But if I ever run up on an injured Phantom I’m calling your idiot friends since I clearly suck at it”,

Tuck waving Dash off, “Dash, none of us would have known what to do with a decapitation. That was a first for Danny-dude”.

“Yay ‘or mi”, Danny shaking away a few tears, man his body was an asshole. Sitting up enough to look at Dash more properly, “ya ‘id ‘ood”.

Sam snapping, “no he did not!”.

Danny pointing aggressively at her,“tis ’raight an’ ha-n’t fallen oof”.

“That doesn’t mean much”.

“Be ‘orse it I ‘ried to mi ‘elf!”.

“Your head would be backwards and upside down somehow if you did it yourself, moron”,

Danny flips her off. Dash actually chuckles though, “this is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever been in, wow”, then collapsing against a bathroom stall, which causes the doors to open, which results in Dash falling backward with a yelp and fucking knocking himself out with the toilet.

You.. you gotta be kidding? Seriously? Danny blinks, “‘eri-yous-lie?”. Sam actually bursts out laughing while Tuck runs over to help get Dash out of the stall, him snapping, “don’t you even try to think about helping, Danny”.

“Eh I ‘ink I ‘elped enou’ bi ‘ockin’ ‘im out”.

“No”.

“Yes”.

Sam and Tuck glare at each other before laughing, all three of them winding up on the floor laughing, or wheezing in Danny’s case. Dash groaning from the floor a few seconds later, “did I just get knocked out by a toilet?”.

Sam snorts, smirk showing in her voice, “yup”.

“That’s really hilarious actually”, Dash shakes his head, “if I wasn’t probably high on Advil my head would kill me”.

“Hey, at ‘east ‘vil actu-eel ‘orks on ya”.

Dash snorts, “that’s rough man”.

“Eel mi ‘out it”.

“I have no idea what you just said”.

“Piss oof”.

Danny and Tuck pushing themselves to sit up, meaning that now everyone’s basically just sitting in a sorta circle in a men’s bathroom. Cool. Man his throat is killing him though. The fresh stitches on the back left side of his neck stand out in the swath of pain pretty noticeably, why? Because they hurt less. A staple gun was never, ever, getting added to the medi kits; Ancients.

Tuck eyeing Dash, “so, are you actually going to keep your mouth shut about this? About finding out your idols secret identity?”.

Dash puts up his hands, “I’m not Wes, I’m not that stupid”, flushing a little, “but I definitely did tell Kwan about, uh”, gesturing awkwardly at Danny, “patching you? up? Yeah”.

Danny shrugs, trying not to move his neck with the motion, it kinda works, “eh, figs”.

Tuck chuckling and shaking his head, “he means ‘figures’, which yeah even Sam can’t blame you for venting to your best friend, that would be a dick move. Right Sam”.

Sam scowls, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, before sighing, “fine. It really would be”. Danny giving her and the jock thumbs up, because yeah, talking was not helping his healing ass like at all.

Dash chuckles awkwardly, “yeah, Kwan’s the best”.

Sam sighing, “Kwan will also realise Danny’s Phantom if he sees”, rubbing her temples, “meaning we still have a jock to keep an eye out for”.

Absently, Danny knows it would be a massive dick move to force Dash to keep this from his best friend. Granted Sam and Tuck might also beat him if he gives the jock the go ahead to tell Kwan. But unfortunately Dash continues, “and he did tell Star, who told Paulina, who, uh, told all the cheerleaders, who probably told everyone”.

Sam glares murderously at Dash then Danny, “I’m going to kill him”.

Danny pouting, “‘am, it is ‘ery rude ta ‘reaten ta kill some-on in ‘ront of a ‘hos’”; and then spits up some metal and just rubs it on his pants, he’ll wash them later maybe. All three grimace at him. Whatever.

“Um, let me point out that they did tell everyone and I did not expect to witness hardcore medical drama and hear mind breaking info when I decided to take a smoke break inside for a change. Hi”.

All four jerk and slowly look at the guy peaking out from a slightly open bathroom stall door. Well. Damn it. Screw his existence entirely. Dash and Sam getting up instantly and both looking ready to beat this guy into silence for Danny’s sake. Aw, they’re bonding over murderous intent, how utterly evil and adorable. Meanwhile, Danny decided fuck it and grabs out his phone. Moving to the Amity Teens chat:

thealivedanny: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move

Haleykaley: that’s ominous hot shit

Bailnwail: has Fentons phone been possessed again?

Tuck’s phone pings, “Danny… why did my phone just ping the sound it does when you message a public chat?”.

“Eye do ya hav’ a ‘iose spec-fy for mi?”.

“I’ve had one ever since someone accidentally messaged the very public gaming chat a death threat meant for Vlad and a picture of your broken arm with exposed bone”, Tuck glancing at his phone, “ah you’re just terrorising the masses, I see”.

The guy comes out of the bathroom stall entirely, hands up at the goth and jock, “hey I ain’t my fault you guys didn’t do a sweep of the place before starting your soap opera medical drama”.

Danny holding up a finger, “echly it’s a super-atura drame”.

“Debatable”, the guy clears his throat, “look it doesn’t really look like there’s any point in silence here but I ain’t no fucking punk ass snitch”, dropping his hands and shrugging, “just ignore me stealing baby formula for my kid brother and we good”.

Danny pushing himself to stand up, his throat felt less hole filled now, “man, I’a eel tha’ shit fer ya”. Then glancing at his phone when it pings, it’s freaking Dash in the teen chat room.

Football king: those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move

Danny looking at the jock with a quirked eyebrow, said jock gives him a slightly too wide-eyed thumbs up, “you, uh, seem to have this covered so I’m going to go drown myself-”.

“Didn’ ta toile do tha’ ger ya already?”.

“In Advil, Fen-taco or Danny, whatever”.

Danny snorts, wincing a little, “eh don’ ‘ange. An’ ‘on’t haveta craw to hospit”.

“Screw you, oh this is stupid”, Dash scowling, “and like the guy who crawled into a refrigerator should have any say”.

Tuck eyeing Danny, “oh you told him your stupid rum cereal story?”.

“He ‘ad plans ta get ‘runk, it wah apple-cable!”:

The dude wheeze laughs, “fucking ‘apple cable’, nice”. Danny absolutely flips him off, but the guy smiles, “nice to know our little hero is a dumbass”.

Sam eyes him and decides he passes whatever mental test she was giving him, “yeah. Yeah he is”.

Danny rolling his eyes and looking at his phone, at least nine more people have posted the same ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ message. Well shit. Okay. Well… at least Danny’s got a clue for how many people have seen and just fucking put two and two together to get four. Wes also threw in a ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that do move’, because he’s an ass. Fucking Wes, goddamn. No chill. At least a ton of people respond back either insulting or threatening Wes. Good. And Dash also leaving shaking his head is probably good too.

The guy eyes them before jabbing a thumb towards the bathroom stall he came out of, “am I cool to finish my cigarette? Since I put that shit out as soon as you guys hauled ass in here?”.

Sam sighing, her, Tuck, and Danny all exchanging shrugs before Sam gives the guy a go ahead, “sure fine, whatever. But yeah, that snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches thing can absolutely be very literal”.

“Tell that to the whole school then”.

“I will”. Sam basically grabs Tuck and Danny and drags them out of the bathroom. Her grumbling at Tuck as she continues dragging them, likely to their next class, “how bad is it”.

Tuck speaking while scrolling through his phone, “bad, there’s really no way to keep a cap on this”.

Danny hums, which doesn’t hurt nearly as much now that the bolts aren’t inside his throat. Pulling out his phone and dropping a link to one of the many videos of his folks ranting about ‘evil ghosts’ in the chat. Which gets the chat bombarded with ‘THOSE WHOSE EYES SEE HAVE MOUTHS THAT DON’T MOVE’ and he’s pretty pleased with himself over that.

Tuck snorting as Sam pulls them to their seats, “smooth dude, now everyone who didn’t already know, knows it had to do with ghosts, GrEaT iDeA”. Oh the sarcasm was thick there.

Sam pulling out her own phone and scrolling, smacking Danny on the arm, it would have been a head slap if his neck wasn’t still fucked, “idiot! But ugh, at least it seems like it’ll keep people quiet. At least from the Fenton’s and maybe adults in general”.

Tuck shaking his head, “yeah, I still don’t get why all the adults have such a hard time seeing that, at the very least, Phantom’s good”.

Sam growling right back, “because they’re stupid and think that just because they’re adults and we’re kids that there’s no way they could be wrong and us right. And that if kids all agree on or do something then it must be dumb, wrong, or immature”.

Lily turning to face them, “a lot of us also do stupid shit, case and point”, pointing at Danny, “you coming to school with a barely attached head that looks awful holy shit”.

Ah crap, Danny mildly panicky readjusts up his turtleneck, fuck him so much. Tuck and Sam just sigh tiredly at this point, and another ‘those whose eyes see have mouths that don’t move’ gets added to the chat. But the girl grins at him, “you could totally get an awesome tat to cover that though”, leaning over, “I know a guy”.

What?

Sam is interested immediately, “oh do tell, I’ve been dying to get some webs on my shoulders”, grinning evilly, “especially because my parents will stop trying to stick me in strapless dresses then”.

The two girls absolutely do exchange info while one of the cheer leaders, Brittney he thinks, be-lines to his desk. Shit shit shit. But all she does is slam down a thing of lozenges, “here, we use these after practices and games since all that cheering makes for a wicked sore throat”. Danny is confused, “thanks?”. She cringes, “wow you do need them”, smirking, “at least you sound like a gruff musician now”; and walks off to her seat.

Apparently everyone takes that as a sign to give Danny stuff, because goddamn everyone brings him something and by the time the teacher shows up Danny has a little mound of random trinkets and things on his desk. Sam and Tuck are wheeze laughing at him. The teacher quirks an eyebrow at him, “Mr. Fenton?”.

“I’m a ‘agon apparently and tis my horde”.

“Are you sick?”.

“No physicals but in da head prob”.

The teacher rolls her eyes at him before starting the lesson. He spends the entire class getting bombarded by direct messages.

‘Get lots of sleep’

‘There’s some stupid powerful muscle relaxers in my locker’

‘West side bathrooms water is green again so don’t use that to wash up’

‘Do you have enough food’

‘I’m giving Dash first aid lessons against his will for you’

‘You want some apple pie’

‘Whoever did that is going down in my notes as ‘head stealing asshole’ forever more’

‘I cleaned your blood up, no worries’

‘You want more losengezes’

‘I’m making everyone sign a get well soon card bye the bye, it’s glittery and cute’

‘There’s balloons in your locker now, open when most chaotic for maximum chaos’

‘I will cry on your shoulder to feed you emotions if that’s a real thing ghosts do’

‘I’ve got a great emotion support ferret if you want something to pet’

‘I shall supply you with an alarming amount of soothing teas’

And on and on it went, he had to put his phone on silent for fucks sake! It was kinda cute and nice though. Even if it seemed like the entire school had now decided to baby him. And as soon as class ends he gets jumped by one of the drama kids, who throws gauze around his neck.

Danny sputtering and taking a ‘no limbs are allowed to touch’ stance, the gauze hanging like a scarf, “why!?”.

“To wrap it so it doesn’t get infected, obviously”. The kid just walks away.

Tuck, looking at his phone, chuckles, “dude, you’ve been given the ‘is baby’ role”. Danny just pouts and pulls the gauze off from the back of his neck. This wasn’t useful for him, he’d dissolve it, but hey the sentiment was nice.

Jasper chuckling as he comes out of the classroom behind them, “yeah because you’re not taking care of yourself apparently”.

Someone actually gives him a whole ass pie in the hallway before the trio manages to get to their next class, he’s pretty sure they all actually missed lunch somewhere in the time they were dealing with Dash. So hey, free food! Definitely appreciated. Even if he hunches over it to make the fact that he’s just phasing pieces into his stomach not super obvious, and it’s not as good as Skulker’s but the teacher doesn’t give him shit for eating in class beyond glaring… which half the class glares right back at the teacher for.

Then, of course, his ghost sense goes off. Fuck him entirely. Hand shooting up, “bathroom”, and him fucking off. This time he’s careful about potential headbuttable objects when he phases his head through the school roof.

By the time he finds the ghost, it’s Technus annoyingly, there’s not much for him to do. Why? Because at least twelve teens and goddman twenty little kids are kicking and throwing things at the ghost and shouting about leaving Phantom alone. Technus is actually curled up crying, “I CAME TO CHECK ON HIM! PLEASE STOP SMALL CHILDREN!”.

Danny is so fucking confused.

Him floating down slowly, “uh? Whatcha doin’?”.

One of the teens stops, huffing, “well you need to heal, dontcha? Literally no one’s actually seen you with an injury that lasts more than a few seconds”, shrugging, “so no fighting for you”.

Is… is this how he’s going to have to tell the town that he actually likes getting into fights? Oh man, awkward. “I enjoy it though”.

“You are injured. No fighting. In fact-”, the girl digs in her pocket and holds out some tickets to him, “-you shouldn’t even be in school. Go have fun at that little petting zoo in Elmerton”.

Danny takes them because it would be rude not to, right. Blinking at the whimpering ghost, “I’m… still gonna soup him”.

“That’s what you call it? That’s adorable”.

Danny blushes and quickly captures the beaten miserable ghost, immediately leaving. Making it back to class at the same time that Sam and Tuck get bodily pushed out of it. Danny blinking at them, “uh?”.

Sam shakes her head fondly, “apparently we’re supposed to go to a petting zoo?”. Tuck chuckling, “we’ve also been given firm instructions to swaddle you, but I am not caring you around in a teenager sized fabric baby swaddle”; he actually holds up a bunch of fabric.

Danny blinks harshly, “what”, shaking his head and holding up the tickets, “some kids were curb stomping Technus mosh pit style. I’m legit a little touched”. Sam gives an impressed whistle before snagging the tickets, shrugging, and dragging both boys off. Guess they are indeed going to a petting zoo.

“Hey good morning guys, welcome to the Elmerton petting zoo. We’ve got brushes and some treats to the side, or you can just give them pet downs and love with your hands and hearts; everyone here is super friendly, though Flapjacks the black goat is a headbutter”.

Sam snorts eyeing Danny, “you’re a goat, Danny”.

“Goated, you mean”.

She absolutely smacks him for that.

The lady continues, “most places won’t let you hand feed but we gave up on that because you Amity kids are a nightmare and never follow rules”.

Tuck snorting, “how’d you know we’re Amity Parkers”.

“You’re skipping school boldly and look dead inside, obvious tell”. Danny absolutely doubles over wheeze laughing at that, a rabbit sniffs him cautiously.

“And just like goats, you guys are always finding new and interesting ways to nearly kill yourselves. Muffintail got stuck upside down in a random bucket last night and screamed bloody murder till one of the dogs got him out”, pointing to some signs, “we have more neat info about goats over there besides their desire to die”.

Danny snickers, smirking at Sam and Tuck, “Muffintail huh? ‘It’s muffin time, who wants a muffin, please I just wanna die. Please somebody kill me, please it’s muffin time’”.

Tuck wheezes, “fuck that’s so old Danny, zone damn it”. The petting zoo lady laughs to herself too.

Sam wandering off to grab some carrots and poking the roasters with them, at least the roosters actually eat said carrots. A peacock jumps on her head though, Danny and Tuck both absolutely taking a photo of that shit. The zoo lady smiling at that before speaking up again, “before you start wandering around too much, Amity Parker’s aren’t allowed in the horse or deer area since all that ghost smell freaks them out. Please don’t scare our horses and deers. And since there’s blood on your sweater, please leave the wolves alone as they will bite you”.

Tuck laughs while Danny’s face heats up something fierce, he absolutely didn’t bring a spare sweater though so… Danny muttering, “I forgot about that”. Tuck patting his back before he does actually wonder off to bother the other rabbits.

Of course the second Danny’s left up to his own devices he immediately gets rammed in the back by a black goat, which proceeds to walk on his back when he falls over. The petting zone lady scolding it, “Flapjacks no”, when the goat physically jumps up and down on him. Sam absolutely got a video and sent it to the teen chat along with a ‘can’t go anywhere with this dumbass’. There’s mass responses of ‘bad goat!’ and one person commenting that ‘oh I know that one, he’s called flapjacks because he’s a jackass’. The lady does get Flapjacks off him long enough for him to get swarmed by curious bunnies, Tuck following after and laughing at the bunny pile that Danny’s become. That also goes into the chat and gets far more ‘cute’ responses.

The amount of time Danny gets followed around by bunnies is adorable and weird, Danny blinking at his bunny herd, “I think bunnies like me”. Tuck pouting, “I want the bunny love”; Danny gives the guy a bunny, it kicks him immediately. Poor Tuck, Danny snickers at him.

Sam walking over with an owl in her arms, the petting zoo lady looking confused in the distance. “You would think bunnies would hate you, since you’re basically a predator”.

“I don’t eat ghosts, Sam”.

Tuck snickering, “You should, get that ecto”.

“Ew! Tucker!”, Sam smacks the geek, “they are sentient beings!”.

“And sentient beings are delicious, my point stands”.

“Blood mouth”.

Danny laughing at the mild argument, laughing until one of the bunnies decides to bite him right in the fucking throat, “augh! ow what the fuck!”, the bunny runs of with a staple in its mouth. “No no no no no no no no, give that back!”. Danny winces and chases after the bunny even with bits of pain shooting up the side of his neck now; it was doing a pretty good job of healing. Was.

It takes ten minutes of him, Sam, and Tuck chasing the bunny for Sam to catch it and get the semi-dissolved severely ecto-contaminated staple out of the bunnies teeth. The bunny is very mad about loosing its prize and immediately starts biting Danny’s shoes. Danny huffing, holding a bit of fabric to his neck to stem the renewed bleeding, asking the petting zoo lady, “what’s that one’s name?”.

“I Eat My Cereal Dry”.

“Well I Eat My Cereal Dry is a dick”.

She laughs at that at least, while the trio continues wandering around the area.

Lindsey thinks that outside of the bitey rabbit and back-butting goat the whole trip turns out pretty good for the three kids. Sure after school let’s out the place basically gets swarmed by Casperhigh students to the point where the place hits max capacity. She’s frankly flabbergasted and vaguely overwhelmed, especially when most of the students are more interested in the kid with the extremely disturbing neck injury that keeps getting harassed by bunnies.

Like… they’re damn near hand feeding the kid more than the animals, giving him head pats and arm pats and back pats; Millie the goat gets jealous and starts trying to get them to stay away from the boy. Adorable but strange.

At least none of them go near the horses or deers.

Thankfully Danny’s able to go home without running into his parents or any ghosts, seemingly Techus or Johnny or Boxy told everyone to fuck off; Technus getting ganged up on was probably a pretty solid warning to most since everyone really only wanted to fight Phantom specifically or cause random chaos, not get assaulted by children with severely brutalised senses of danger.

Zone, he even makes it through the night uninterrupted for a change!

And checking his throat out in the mirror in the morning, moving it around and prodding at the stitching, and scars from all the staples that have since dissolved. It still ached a bit but there’s no actual pain. The steel brackets are definitely still there because Dash went and grabbed thick ass fuckers but all the bolts are gone for sure, so swallowing and physically eating still made a bunch of pressure on his throat; meaning he’s still sticking to phasing food into his stomach instead of chewing shit.

Jazz bangs on the door a little aggressively, Danny sighing as it just pops open, her staring at his neck, “seriously? Are you okay?”.

Danny sighing again for good measure and rolling his eyes at her, “I am now, yes I know the scarring is gnarly, that’s because of a not super great patch job and not because of how bad the injury was”.

Jazz sighs shaking her head, “I saw the chat by the way”, her leaning on the doorframe, “so, everyone knows now, huh?”.

Danny groans exaggeratedly, he’d tilt his head back dramatically if he wasn’t still slightly injured, “just the teens thankfully”, eyeing her, “they're a lot better about ghosts than the towns adults”.

“You mean the Fenton’s”.

“I mean all of the adults, Jazz. Mom and dad… are just the worst of them”.

She hums at him, which he ignores, “are you even bothering to cover it up now?”.

He knows exactly why she’s asking that, he’s in just his standard simple long sleeve that he always wears nowadays meaning that everyone and anyone will be able to see the scars and bits that are still healing. But he grabs up a handkerchief from the counter, “I’m still covering it, just not really caring about whether I draw attention to it or not”. After all, adults generally won’t ask, teenagers definitely would have… if they didn’t all already know what was up.

“I still don’t like it”.

Danny huffing, “it’s not really your scar to like or show off or not, Jazz”. Zone, with this there was almost no point in bothering to hide any of his scaring anymore, but going bare arms might be pushing it right now, considering how severe some of the scaring was. Eh maybe someday, but not today. “It’s not like mom and dad will really notice”. She cringes but he doesn’t really care if she doesn’t like the honesty.

Jazz nods a little, “well I’m off, try to stay in school?”.

Danny waving her off as he’s grabbing up the handkerchief, “yeah yeah yeah, the ghosts have backed off to let me heal a little so I might be able to actually do that”, chuckling, “apparently decapitation is freaky to them. Who knew”. That does get a laugh out of her at least, before she fully leaves.

Danny not too far behind.

…

Sam and Tuck eye the handkerchief and chuckle to themselves. Sam smirking, “nice neck piece, bored of sweaters already?”.

“Pfft, you know how I like to keep things interesting”.

Kwan shouting, “Fenton! How’s your headless doll situation!”.

What? Danny looks to the jock, confused, “what are you even talking about, Kwan?”.

“You know, like that thing where a ladies head is held by a ribbon? Except you’ve got bolts and staples and thread?”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “that green ribbon story? That has nothing to do with dolls man, but it does have to do with dead people and a decapitation, I guess”, and shrugs, pointing to the handkerchief, “ain’t perfect but my heads almost fully reattached, nothing is actively holding anything on anymore”. At Kwan pointing at his own neck and tilting his head, Danny just assumes he’s asking further about his fashion choices, “it’s still healing, man, it looks gnarly”.

Kwan waves that answer off, “pssh, who cares. Scars make men of boys!”.

Danny, vaguely insulted, grabs the bottom of his shirt and yanks it up aggressively, gesturing at his torso and the aggressive amount of scaring there. Including the nasty, repeatedly reopened, and rarely stitched back together right, Y incision. “You sure about that one?”.

Kwan gapes a little, “dude, you are ripped”.

Of course that’s what he cares about, Danny facepalms immediately. Dropping his shirt and sighing, “I’m still not walking around with a fucking barely healed decapitation scar, Kwan”. The guy has the audacity to pout at him.

Then someone yells, “nice neck! You goof!”.

Danny chuckles to himself, everyone in this goddamn town was so fucking weird and he loved them for it.

He really only keeps up with wearing the handkerchief while shits healing and when he knows his folks are gonna be around, every single teen just seemed to think it was cool. He got lots of lanyards with pins to ‘decorate’ the scar, some weird handkerchiefs, Emilie even knitted him an infinity scarf. The one that made him laugh the most, and realise that things definitely were going to be just fine, was him getting mobbed by the art kids sticking temporary tattoos all around and over the scarring; it looked so damn silly seeing one of his gnarliest scars just covered in unicorns and seagulls and stars and an angry goat. Somehow everyone having fun with it and him not being bothered by it kept the adults from ever even trying to ask about it.

End.

PRompts: Tooth-rotting fluff occurs at Casper High after Danny's secret identity is revealed. Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. What happens? Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay. Danny, Sam, and Tucker go to a petting zoo. Danny receives an injury or scar that he can't easily hide in one form, let alone two.

#danny phantom #phandom #danny fenton #phicphight24 #phic phight 24 #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #sam manson #tucker foley #phic phight #dash #gothmoth #injury #injuries #head injury #decapitation #scars #petting zoo #fan fic #phan phic #reveal #identity reveal #reveal fic #fluff

[starfall-isle]

Petri questionnaire for @sonic-oc-showdown!

Name: Petri

Species: Hedgehog, with a little bit of field mouse!

Home: She usually rents an apartment in Sunset city, but that’s getting more complicated in her current situation

✨ How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Sonic naming conventions, so I went through a list of names that fit her skillsets! Petri like a Petri dish ^^

🧑‍🦳 How old are they?

27!

💞 Do they have any love interests?

Nope! Aside from a tiny crush on her boss, but what non-robotic Eggman lacky can’t say that.

🥞 What is their favorite food?  

She needs her fill of coffee every day if she wants a chance at staying upright. Aside from that she enjoys pastries and breakfast foods! Usually during a busy night though, she isn’t an early riser.

💼 What do they do for a living?

If she had her way she’d be working her old job as Eggman’s Secretary! While not the line of work she dreamed of, she’ll take any chance to get closer to the doctor and his resources someday. For now she’s interning at the Chaotix detective agency in exchange for their skills.

🏐 Do they have any hobbies?  

She’s an avid chess player! Though she doesn’t like playing on a competitive level. Petri adores board games and puzzles, and enjoys any activity that gets her mind racing and an opportunity to show her skillsets!

🎯 What do they do best?  

Setting her mind to something! Once she’s made a decision, she’ll be hard pressed to go back on it. Whether it’s due to arrogance or genuine passion is debatable, but either way she won’t settle for anything that she doesn’t deem to herself as successful.

🥊 What do they love? What do they hate?  

Petri loves her work as a chemist!! She cares about what she does a lot, and strives to one day create her own company. And as much as Petri loves the idea of success she hates any notion of not being needed or acknowledged for her talents even more. She’s also somewhat dismissive and snide, but can’t stand when people respond to her on the same level. 

📸 What is one of your OC’s best memories?  

Hanging out with Orbot and Cubot during slow office days! Whether it’s the chance to chat their processors to mush, or play a friendly game of checkers, those little visits secretly shine in her memory.

✂️ What is one of your OC’s worst memories?  

I Can’t really say yet! She sure isn’t happy about losing her job though.

🏚️ Is their current design their first one?  

Nope! I had a couple scrapped designs before I landed on what I liked. Originally she was going to be a lot more studious, a paleontologist, and she had a long braid for a little while! 

🧠 What originally inspired this OC?  

Petri was only developed as an attempt to design a hedgehog character to see what I could come up with myself! What was meant to be a one off sketch quickly turned into a slew of ideas once it dawned on me how much i’d enjoy making a more antagonistic character! If I created her now knowing what she would evolve into I probably wouldn’t have made her a hedgehog, but I really love the way she is now.

🎬 What genre do they belong in?  

Whatever you’d label sonic. Not as much mystery as you’d expect a lady tagging along with the Chaotix to have though.

🏳️‍🌈 What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?  

Bisexual trans woman! 

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 How many siblings does your OC have?  

Only child!

🧑‍🍼 What is the OC’s relations w/their parents like?  

Not strained by any means, but not really on speaking terms. I think Petri is a little too prideful to let them back into her life before she’s established herself the way she envisioned.

💜 What do you like most about the OC?  

She is just sooo silly and holds a special place in my heart due to how much joy I’ve found from developing her! I’ve planned out an entire story around her and it’s the most passionate I’ve felt toward an oc in a very long time! To be succinct, I just like writing her :)

🖍️ How often do you draw/write about the OC?  

A lot comparatively, but i created her during a rough time and haven’t been able to draw as much as I’d want. So like! As often as I can.

🔪 Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?  

Nope! I don’t think I’ve ever killed off any of my own characters, I’m much more into the idea that she has to face her mistakes than use her for a big self sacrificing gesture.

💀 Does your OC have any phobias?

Petri is much more anxiety prone than she lets on, and is deeply afraid of being forgotten. Aside from personal fears she doesn’t like being around flickies and small animals.  

❤️‍🔥 Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?  

Currently she has a guttural hatred towards Sonic for costing her her job, but he doesn’t know that. (Or her.) But other than that… well. :)

⏱️ How long have you had the OC?

Since September 12, 2021!!!

#Sonic #Petri the hedgehog #Art tag #scopophobia #It’s been so fun putting aside more time for her bc of the competition! Love ocs <3

[hogtiedwhore2]

day 200 of denial, and a task

today is the 200th day since my last orgasm! seeing that number 200 is crazy to me, some days it feels like its been less, some days it seems like it has been longer then that lol 😄. to celebrate my 200th @dirtynerd-83 gave me a task/challenge to complete. i would stand flat against the wall, my left hand extended straight out with a dime in each finger pressed against the wall. a 6th dime would be held by my nose against the wall. for an hour i would need to hold up all the dimes. if one dropped, that would result in 1 day of no touch. if this sounds familiar, i have done a few challenges like this in the past. @dirtynerd-83 gave me this exact challenge last year. this challenge was also cleared with my owner who has informed me that any no touch days this results in doesnt start until monday.

so i started this challenge earlier today by stripping naked. that was one of his requirements was to do this naked. from there i stood against the wall putting my left hand up and using my right hand to put the dimes in place. once ready i scooted over until my arm was straight out. i had a table next to me which i had a timer on my phone. i started the hour timer and placed the dime between my nose and the wall. my right hand was to be placed behind my back the entire time.

one of the worst things about this challenge is not being able to see how much time is left. maybe its a blessing not being able to stare at the time, but ignorance is not bliss in this situation. i have no idea how much time is left while i am doing this. i feel like i started off really well. my arm wasnt getting tired, i did some yoga before hand to help me stretch and limber up. id like to say i made it 20-30 minutes holding my hand on, but i cant even begin to guess how long it took before i started feeling it in my arm. maybe im overestimating and it was more like a pathetic ten minutes lol. either way, once the pain started, it felt like time was slowing down even though i couldnt see it. soon enough, my arm was beginning to shake. up until this moment i felt like was i was coasting, but not the struggle was coming into play. the physical struggle of my arm staying up, and the mental struggle trying not to give into it. i wish i could tell you how long i fought the fight, but i have no idea. my hands began to shake, the dimes pressed into the wall with my sweaty hand. one dime dropped from my pinky unable to hold it there anymore. this was a blow mentally, hearing the hear scrap the wall and hit the floor. it started a chain reaction when my arm gave out completely.

the sound of those dimes falling and hitting the floor was a mental blow. i felt the weight of 5 no touch days crashing onto me. i wanted to cry. i had tried so hard to keep my arm up, but i had nothing left in my arm to continue holding it up. from there on out it was just the dime that i could barely see in front of me. i had to be mentally tough for the rest of the challenge. 5 days of no touch is devastating, but that 6th felt like the 6th circle of hell i did not want to experience. however long was left in the challenge felt like a whole other hour to go through. i just wanted it to be over with. it felt good having my left arm down now, but i still had keep my focus on my nose. i did everything in my power to keep that focus and not break

but at long last, the timer on my phone went off. i made it! sure i only held 1 up of the 6 total, but that felt like a huge victory after the 5 fell pretty much at the same time. i was so mentally exhausted after this. i had to sit down right away. ill be honest, once it settled in i was going to have 5 no touch days, i got kinda down. if you know me, i hate no touch. im open and honest about that. it just plain sucks. but some time to think about it, and a helpful talk with @dirtynerd-83 i am feeling better about it. its going to be tough but i will get through it. in the end it helps me with continuing my denial. that is whats important. but still...

next week is going to suck!!! 😥

#tasks #dirtynerd83

[mlmxreader]

update on my current housing situation

so, as many of y'all know, I was recently kicked out by father from my home and away from my animals (except my dog bc I took him w me, but unfortunately I had to leave my snakes due to the fact that I didn't have time to grab them & I didn't have space where I was staying), so here's an update now that things have settled down somewhat.

the main things:

the agreement w my father at the moment is that I am allowed to remain in the house until the end of the year; w support from people in real life (namely my grandmother), I have been able to get a fridge, a bin, cutlery, plates, food, a microwave, a toaster and, most importantly, a kettle without needing to touch the money I've raised on my gofundme for somewhere permanent.

my father is adamant that I will not be allowed to remain in the house past the end of the year, so I'm hoping I can raise the money by then; my gran, who has fought to have me home, is desperately trying to get him to cool off and to give me an extension for until I raise enough money to get a deposit and move somewhere permanently. she's doing everything that she possibly can.

on top of food, hygiene products, and other essentials, I'm still having to pay rent, which has basically meant that at the end of the week, I have more or less no money of my own after I get paid. my father won't even let me use basic shit, like the dishwasher or the bin. he's not spoken a word to me since I came back, and we're not allowed in the same room together. he's insisting that I have to pay for everything, even though he's aware that my work is seasonal and I won't be employed 247 like I am now. he's not giving me any wriggle room for this.

for now, things seem... stable-ish, although there is a persistent and constant threat that I could come home from a shift at any given point, and find that all my belongings are out on the curb. at literally any moment I could be made homeless by him, even though my gran is trying her best to keep me where I belong and to keep a roof over my and my animals' heads.

unfortunately she can't give me any monetary support, but she's trying to do everything she possibly can. hopefully things will cool off and my father will eventually give me some wriggle room so that I have until I can get enough money, but he's desperate for me to be out of the house asap, so I'm under threat of losing everything rn.

everything else

my mental health is getting worse because of this, and my CPTSD as well as my schizophrenia is being massively triggered and I'm in a worse situation NOW in terms of my mental health than I was before. my psychiatrist is doing the best he can, but unfortunately there's nothing that he can do in terms of helping me get out of dodge w my animals.

my gran and others have been absolutely wonderful with giving me support, especially emotionally. but I do still need a LOT of monetary support, unfortunately. I might need to increase my GFM goal in order to pay for essentials and rent when my work dries up, but we'll just have to see what happens because there may still be other things I can do to earn money. but I'm not 100% certain either way at the moment.

please, if you can, share this post that links my gofundme - every little scrap of money helps me to find somewhere permanent for me and my animals!

#turning rbs off of this one bc I don't wanna have people share it #and then have people ask me questions that are far too personal about my mental health

[ironychan]

A Little Human (as a Treat)

Part 1/? - Un Voluntario

Part 2/? - Un Escursione

Part 3/? - Una Complicazione

Part 4/? - Una Famiglia

Part 5/? - Una Aiutante

Part 6/? - Una Ricerca

Part 7/? - Un Confronto

Part 8/? - Un'Emergenza

Part 9/? - Una Speranza

Ciccio and Ercole need a place to spend the night. Flavia and Perla just need a grownup. @dysphoria-sweatshirt @writer652

The problem with sulking is that it's boring, and Ciccio hadn't been sitting there at the base of the anchor chain for very long before he started to get tired of it. He was still angry with his father, so he couldn't go back to shore, but Signora Trota wasn't going to want to see him, so he couldn't go to Giordana's house, either. Where did that leave?

Even worse, what was he going to do with Ercole? Ercole wouldn't care about the argument, and it wouldn't have been any of his business if he had. All Ercole would want was to see that stupid magic scroll and change back to human. It wouldn't be fair of Ciccio to leave him stuck down here just because of some family drama – and unlike Ercole, Ciccio actually cared about things like that. He would probably have to make up with his father as soon as the kids got back. He wasn't looking forward to that.

Ciccio was still stewing over this when Ercole himself arrived, looking for him. It was impossible to say whether he'd also gotten the sea monsters' innate sense of direction with his transformation, but he clearly hadn't had a very good trip. He was once again tangled up in seaweed, and his leg was stuck in a scrap of net.

“Here you are!” he said indignantly. “Why are you sitting around?” He shook his foot to try to get the piece of net off it. A small crab, also stuck in the mesh, hung on for dear life. “What happened to the children, huh?”

“They're not back yet,” said Ciccio.

“What? What's keeping them?” Ercole demanded.

“They got lost.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” said Ciccio. “There's anything anyone can do about it. Signor Marcovaldo and Signor Scorfano went to San Giuseppe to get them, and they'll be back when they're back. Until then, we just have to wait.”

He couldn't help feeling a little smug about it. Ercole enjoyed making other people do things he didn't want to do himself. Now he was in the last place he ever wanted to be and there was nothing to be done about it. It felt well-deserved.

“I don't want to wait! I'm sick of this!” Ercole insisted. “I want to go home!”

“Good for you,” Ciccio told him. He settled further into the mud, as if he never intended to move again.

“You can't do this to me!”

“Can't do anything else.”

Ercole reached to grab him by the gills, then stopped, not wanting to get stabbed on a spine again. Neither of them had any idea what a second such injury might do. He seemed to think for a moment, then sat down on the bottom next to Ciccio. “Then I'm gonna wait with you,” he announced, “just to make sure you're telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie about it?” Ciccio wanted to know.

“How am I supposed to know why you'd do something? You're the one who apparently wanted to be a slimy sea monster,” Ercole replied.

Ciccio was about to say something rude in reply, but he heard the sound of a motor. Looking up, he could see the shape of a small boat against the sunset light, puttering out towards the Island. It looked familiar. Was that the same boat Guido had been in earlier? If so, was it heading to the Island on the assumption that Ciccio would go back there? He wasn't sure about his ability to recognize a boat from the bottom – although he knew Alberto could apparently do it – but if there were some news, did he really want to risk missing it?

“Wait here,” he told Ercole, and swam up to see what was going on. He grabbed the side of the boat to look over the edge, and was relieved to see his friend. If it had been somebody else, there was a chance this situation might have gotten even worse. “Guido?”

“Oh, per fortuna!” Guido exclaimed, turning around. “I had no idea how I was gonna find you! Listen.” He used an oar to turn the boat so he could better face Ciccio. “Signor Scorfano telephoned from San Giuseppe. Flavia wasn't where she promised to wait, so they're going to look for her.”

Ciccio felt that awful crawling fear inside him again. What if they never found her? He wanted to shut his eyes and try to physically shake that horrible thought out of his head.

This must have been plain on his face, because Guido held his hands up and tried to reassure him. “Don't panic! They think she's got somebody with her, but they might be back really late, and your Dad wants me to make sure you're okay. He told me to ask if you have somewhere you can spend the night if you need to.”

This really did nothing for Ciccio's state of mind. If his father was resigned to him spending the night in the water, then this was really serious. “I don't know. We might be able to stay with the Donzellas, I guess? We helped them fix their barn.”

“We?” Guido asked. For a moment he was puzzled, then he remembered Ercole and was even more confused. “Ercole helped?”

“Sort of. Not on purpose,” Ciccio told him. “Anyway, Papá's met Signor Donzella. Silvio's dad, the big guy with the beard.”

The Donzellas were fairly familiar faces around Portorosso. Guido nodded. “I'll probably be back really early to check on you again,” he said. “I don't know if there's any way to let you know if they get back after midnight or something...”

“I'll wait for you at the Island again in the morning,” Ciccio promised.

“Okay. Uh... sleep well,” said Guido uncertainly.

“I'll try,” said Ciccio, who was pretty sure he wouldn't sleep a wink.

Ercole was waiting just below the surface, tail twitching impatiently. “Well?” he asked.

“Flavia's still missing,” said Ciccio.

Ercole scowled. “Doesn't she know we can't change back without her?”

“Yes! She knows that!” Ciccio replied impatiently. “She's probably not doing great, either, you know. She's by herself in a strange place.”

“What if she doesn't come back? I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a nasty, smelly sea monster!”

That hit a little too close to Ciccio's own fears. “Maybe I do!” he snarled, not because it was true but just to make Ercole angrier.

“I don't care what you want,” Ercole informed him.

“I know! You don't care about anybody but yourself!”

“Why should I?”

“Because everybody else does!” Ciccio roared. “Giordana wanted to help the Donzellas because she wants them to have a place to live! I wanted to do this partly to hang out with Giordana but also partly because I felt sorry for Flavia and I wanted her to have a good time! I could have just left you there but I felt like this was my fault and I didn't want you to get hurt! Everybody cares about other people except you!”

For a moment Ercole just stared at him, astonished by this outburst. Then he snorted and said, “it's not my business if your fish girlfriend wants to do extra work. Now, if the children won't be back tonight, what are we going to do?”

“We're going to ask the Donzella family if we can stay with them,” Ciccio replied. “And if Signora Donzella allows it, it's because she cares that we don't get eaten by the giant squid!”

Ercole looked suspicious. “Everybody keeps talkinga bout this giant squid. I think you're making it up.”

“Then you can just sleep on a rock somewhere,” Ciccio said, and turned to head for the Donzellas' house.

“Hey! You just admitted that this is your fault!” Ercole swam after him. “You can't just leave me!”

Ciccio didn't answer. He'd been told that sea monsters could instinctively find their way back to any place they'd been before, but it was still surprising to see first-hand that it was true. He didn't even have to think about it. He knew exactly which way he had to go to find the Donzellas. Ercole didn't question his sense of direction, either. He was too busy continuing to rant.

“Why do you want a sea monster for a girlfriend anyway?” he asked. “I mean, I see why normal girls wouldn't want you, but are you really that desperate?”

“Believe it or not, I like Giordana,” said Ciccio. “She's tough and pretty at the same time, and we both like to bake. And she likes me, too,” he added. “She says I treat her like a lady, while the sea monster boys think she's not girly enough.”

“Oh, so neither of you can find somebody your own kind,” was what Ercole took from that.

Ciccio didn't answer, because something caught his eye... a flicker of blue-green light somewhere off in the darkening water. He turned to look, but didn't see anything.

“What are you...” Ercole began, then fell silent. “Per milli cavoli.”

This was spoken in a hush that was very out of character for Ercole. Ciccio found him looking up – he followed his gaze, and saw that with the sun going down, the water near the surface had lit up with softly glowing blue plankton. This swirled and shifted with the water, looking like pictures Ciccio had seen in a magazine of the aurora polare in Canada, except in constant motion. It was breathtaking.

“Wow,” he said.

“Does that happen every night down here?” Ercole wanted to know.

“I couldn't tell you,” Ciccio said. Neither Giordana nor Arturo had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe it was so ordinary to them that they didn't think it was worth talking about, sort of like the moon.

It must have been the same glow that Ciccio had seen a moment earlier. It had only startled him because he hadn't known to expect it. Yet he couldn't help looking over his shoulder before they continued on their way, just in case. When he did, there it was: a gentle pulse of greenish light among the seaweed. He waited, but it did not appear again.

Ciccio's sense of direction didn't fail him. The Donzella family's house was right where he'd thought it was, with a soft pinkish glow visible through the windows. This, too, was bioluminescence, coming from a cluster of jellyfish the sea monsters kept in their houses. Silvio was helping his mother feed these when Ciccio and Ercole came to the door.

Massimo knew he was supposed to call out. Ciccio did not, and feared that doing so might be rude. Since there was nothing to knock on, he just waited there awkwardly for somebody to notice him.

It took a few moments, but eventually Signora Donzella spotted them, and cried out in surprise. “Mother of pearl! Say something next time!” She gave her bowl of krill to Silvio and came to welcome them in. “What can I do for you boys?”

Ercole looked at Ciccio – talking to sea monsters was his job. Ciccio took a deep breath, or at least its underwater equivalent. How much should he tell her? The truth was complicated and he didn't know how she'd react. Signora Egelfino earlier hadn't exactly been upset, but he couldn't imagine her letting them spend the night, either.

He decided to say as little as possible. “I had a fight with my father, and Ercole's a long way from home. We were wondering if we could stay here tonight.”

Signora Donzella was surprised and a bit puzzled by the request, but she rose to the occasion. “Of course you can. I'm sure everything will seem much better in the morning. I remember having some awful rows with my mother when I was a girl, but a good night's sleep always helped. Let me find you something to eat. Silvio!”

Her son looked up from what he was doing. Half the jellyfish immediately extended their tentacles to try to grab the bowl of krill from him, and he had to quickly move it out of their reach. “Yes, Mom?”

“Find those extra sponge mats, will you? I know we brought them with us. I'm afraid there's not room for you in the house,” she told her guests, “but thanks to all your good help today there's plenty of space in the barn, and we haven't moved our livestock in yet so you won't even have to share.”

Ercole was appalled. “You want us to...” he began, but Ciccio grabbed him by a whisker and pinched it. “Ow!”

“Grazie mille, Signora Donzella,” said Ciccio. “That's perfect. We can finish feeding your jellyfish for you.”

“Would you? That woudl be lovely,” said Signora Donzella with a smile.

Silvio grinned and gave the bowl to Ciccio before swimming off to find the bedding. His mother vanished into another room, and with them both gone, Ciccio took Ercole's arm and leaned in close to talk to him.

“We are gonna be good guests,” he said threateningly, “and if you aren't, I'm gonna tell her husband who you really are.”

Ciccio did not know if Ercole realized that Signor Donzella was the same person as the large bearded man who'd helped scare the American carnival owner away back at Christmas time, but he had the events of earlier in the day to tell him that this wasn't somebody he wanted angry with them. He nodded.

“Good.” Ciccio let go of him. “Keep your mouth shut, and let's get to work.”

-

Flavia and Perla were afraid Felicia would try to drag them back to the French bakery, but she seemed just as determined to reach the police station as the girls were. All three came puffing up to the Piazza Centrale together. Flavia had not noticed the police station when she had been in the piazza earlier, but it was not a conspicuous building, wedged as it was between a dressmaker's and a shop that had once been a greengrocer's but was now empty. Even now that she was looking for it, Flavia would have needed Perla to point it out if it hadn't been for the crowd gathered around it.

“I need everybody to stay back, please!” a young policeman was saying, standing on a chair to address everybody. “This is not a circus show! We're trying to contain a threat to the community.”

“You girls hear that?” Felicia asked, worried. “You two shouldn't be here.”

“What about you?” Perla asked.

“I'm looking for my husband,” the woman reminded them.

It wasn't impossible that he was here somewhere, Flavia thought. There were at least a couple of dozen people gathered and he could easily have been one of them. Rather than go look for him, however, Felicia remained lurking with the two girls in the side street.

“What do we do now?” Flavia asked.

“I dunno,” said Perla, with a nervous look at Felicia.

There was a fuss somewhere up the street, with the ringing of a bicycle bell and several startled shouts. The girls and Felicia turned to look, and then froze as they heard a familiar voice.

“Heaven's sake, watch where you're going!” exclaimed Signora Pepitone.

“Sorry, Ma'am!” replied the boy on the bicycle who'd nearly run into her.

Perla grabbed Flavia and the two darted into the space between two buildings, ducking under an old wooden pallet that was leaning against one wall. Felicia, who had turned back to watching the crowd outside the police station once she'd realized nothing important was happening up the street, did not notice them. Moments later, Signora Pepitone and Roberto went hurrying by, in the sort of tired jog that suggested they'd begun their journey running but were now out of breath. Felicia jumped as they startled her on the way by, and only then did she look around and realize the girls were gone.

She did not look for them, though, because as soon as she entered the piazza Signora Pepitone began calling for help. “We need the police!” she called out. “Those sea monsters! They took my granddaughter and her friend!”

“Oh, no,” whispered Flavia. Now Signora Pepitone was even more upset about the sea monsters! If Flavia and Perla came out and said they'd run away on their own, then the others wouldn't have to take the blame... but then Signora Pepitone would drag them back to her flat and there'd be nobody to try to help Alberto and his friends. Flavia wished Papa Leo were here. He would have been able to do something. This was getting worse and worse. “We're gonna be in so much trouble.”

“Then we have to help your friends before she finds us,” Perla decided. She wiggled out from under the pallet and studied the side of the building. “I'm gonna go take a look.”

“She'll see you!” Flavia protested.

“No, she won't,” Perla promised, and began shimmying up the drainpipe. “Wait here, and be very quiet,” she told Flavia.

“Okay,” said Flavia, glad Perla hadn't tried to make her come along. The other girl vanished over the edge of the roof, and Flavia sat down on a wooden block to wait. She hoped Perla wouldn't be too long.

Flavia might have worried less about Perla falling if she'd been able to see her scrambling over the rooftops like a mountain goat. By the time she reached the former grocery shop, Signora Pepitone was already inside the police station shouting at the prisoners. Perla could hear her voice, and so she crouched on the roof and waited for Ippolito to escort her grandmother out. Then she slid down onto a lower part of the roof, and peered in the small window there.

There wasn't much happening inside. Alberto was pacing up and down the room, trying to think of a way to escape. Giulia and Luca were sitting on either side of the thoroughly miserable Antonio Macarello, watching their friend.

“I knew I should have taken Errico up when he offered to teach me to pick locks,” Alberto grumbled. “Massimo said I didn't need to know that.”

“Even if you did, they're still right outside,” said Luca. They could dimly hear Signora Pepitone wailing as she described what had happened to the police. Luca didn't like being stuck in here while Flavia was apparently missing... he hoped she was still with Signora Pepitone's granddaughter, even if only so she wouldn't be all alone. “If the policeman comes back, you should try talking to him again,” he told Antonio.

“Yeah, I think you were getting to him,” Alberto agreed.

But Antonio shook his head. “My parents were right. Land monsters can't be reasoned with.”

“That's not true at all!” Giulia protested.

“Yeah!” Alberto said, and almost made a joke about how Giulia was still totally unreasonable even now she was a sea monster. At the last moment he managed to think better of it.

“Once the people in Portorosso realized we weren't going to hurt them, they stopped wanting to hurt us,” said Luca. “You just have to convince the people in San Giuseppe. You're already friends with some of them, so that's a start.”

“But how?” Antonio asked. “You saw Ippolito. He just... stared at me, then took us all away.”

“But he looked sad when you started talking about how long you guys had been friends for,” Giulia reminded him. “You need to do more of that.”

“He left, though,” sighed Antonio. “He probably never even...” he cut himself off with a yelp. Luca and Giulia jumped to their feet, and Alberto nearly fell over.

“Sorry!” said Antonio. “Something went down the back of my neck. I...” He shook his shirt, and they heard a small object hit the floor. Giulia reached down, and picked up a little pebble.

Everybody looked up, and found a face peering in between the bars of the tiny window high up on the back wall.

“Flavia?” Giulia asked hopefully, but a moment later she realized it couldn't be. Flavia had short hair, while this girl wore hers long in pigtails.

“Don't shout!” said Luca. “The people outside will hear us.” He thought for a moment. “Signor Macarello, could you stand on the bench, please?”

Antonio got to his feet and climbed onto the bench along the back wall, and Luca and Giulia helped Alberto up to sit on his shoulders. While they watched nervously for the return of Officer Ippolito and Signora Pepitone, Alberto grabbed the bars and looked outside. There was indeed a girl of about eleven crouched on the roof outside looking back at him, and she was definitely not Flavia.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

“I'm Perla!” she replied. “Are you Alberto? Flavia told me about you,” she added, without waiting for an answer. “She's scared of climbing so I came. Are you guys the sea monsters?”

There was no point in denying it – and if this were Flavia's new friend, she would hopefully have a different opinion about that than the adults outside. “We sure are,” said Alberto. “You wanna see?” He took a deep breath and transformed.

“Hey!” protested Antonio, as Alberto's tail suddenly smacked him in the face.

“Sorry!” Alberto quickly changed back.

“Wow!” whispered Perla, grinning.

Alberto couldn't help a proud grin, but he quickly got back to the important questions, “is Flavia okay?”

“Yeah, she's fine,” Perla promised. “I know Nonna's looking for us, but we're gonna help you guys first.”

“How?”

“We dunno yet, but we're gonna do it. Just sit tight, okay?”

“Yeah, we can't exactly go anywhere,” Alberto said. “You'll tell Flavia we're all right?”

“Absolutely. See you soon!” Perla stood up to climb onto the roof edge above the window, and vanished from view.

Alberto dropped back to the floor, and Antonio Macarello dejectedly sat down on the bench again. After a few moments Luca and Giulia once again sat on either side of him, doing their best to look like they hadn't moved in case the police came back and got suspicious.

“She's not going to help us,” sighed Antonio. “She's just another land monster.”

“Don't say that,” said Luca. “Humans can be surprising.”

Flavia waited for Perla for what seemed like an awfully long time. She sat on the block of wood in the alley, fiddling the the ribbons on her borrowing blouse or scuffing patterns into the dirt with her shoes. What if Perla got caught? Could Flavia possibly help her friends on her own? Or what if somebody found Flavia waiting, and asked her...

“There you are! What are you doing back there?”

Flavia screeched involuntarily, which in turn frightened the woman who'd just spotted her – Felicia from the Patisserie. Felicia shouted back, and the two of them spent a moment staring at each other in shock and horror.

“Are you okay, Signora?” a boy's voice asked from somewhere out on the street.

Flavia gave Felicia a pleading look and shook her head.

“I'm fine! I saw a... one of those things with the tail,” Felicia said. “Everything's all right!” She squeezed into the space between the buildings with Flavia. “I looked up and you two were gone. Where's your friend?”

“I'm here!” Perla slid down the drainpipe again and landed in a dusty heap between the two. “There's a little window up there that looks down into the cell, and after Nonna left I could see everything.” She glanced up at Felicia and thought for a moment before continuing. “There weren't any sea monsters though, just people.”

Flavia nodded. “Too bad. Seeing sea monsters would be cool.”

“Guess we'll just go to the candy shop and go home!” said Perla. “Come on! It looks like he's still open!”

“Buona Sera, Signora!” Flavia said, waving as the girls climbed over the pallets to return to the street. “I hope you find your husband!”

They took a quick look into the piazza to make sure nobody would see them – nobody did. They were all still gathered around the police station. Keeping close to the wall, the two girls ran down the length of a building and darted into the candy shop. A bell on the door rang as they went inside.

“Good evening!” said Signor Giglioli, removing trays from the display for cleaning. “Oh, hello, Perla!”

“Hello, Signor!” said Perla, and pulled Flavia into a corner so they could talk quietly.

“Did you see them?” Flavia asked.

“Yeah, they're all in there! Alberto even showed me what you really look like!” said Perla with a grin. “I saw him, and there was another boy and girl who must be Giulia and Luca, and a man with a moustache, in a yellow shirt.”

Flavia had nodded eagerly at Perla talking about her friends, but then paused at the mention of a grownup. They hadn't had anyone with them. Were they locked up in there with an actual criminal? Would she and Perla be able to get her friends out without also freeing this other person, and would that be a problem?

Why had Flavia ever wanted to come up on land anyway? She was always hearing about her cousins getting into trouble above the surface. She should have known the same thing would happen to her. Were they going to be mad that she'd gotten them into trouble?

“Don't panic!” Perla whispered. “There's gotta be something we can do.”

“Yeah, but what?” asked Flavia. There'd been so many people, and while she'd never been in one, Flavia had heard enough about police stations to know that they had places to lock people up behind bars.

Perla wasn't sure. “In the movies, you get people out of jail by paying bail money, but I don't have any.”

“Me either,” said Flavia. “Giulia was carrying the money.” And if that had been enough to buy their way out, surely she would have already done it.

“Nonna usually gives me money if I say per favore,” Perla said, “but she always wants to know what it's for.”

“We need more help,” Flavia decided. She looked over her shoulder at Signor Giglioli, who was keeping one eye on the girls as he washed a tray, and remembered something Luca had said earlier. Hoping he'd been right, she approached the counter. “Signor Giglioli?”

The shop owner smiled at them. “Oh, I remember you, you're one of the kids from Portorosso! Do you and Perla know each other?”

“We do now!” said Perla.

“Signor,” Flavia began, but then hesitated, nervous. What if Luca had been wrong? What if Signor Giglioli turned out to be as scared as the other people in this town? For a moment she just stood there, unable to speak, but then he made herself continue. Flavia trusted Luca, and they needed somebody to help. “Remember you gave us candy sea monsters, because people like sea monsters in Portorosso?”

He nodded. “I've run out of them today, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow.”

“No, no, I don't want any. I mean, they're very tasty, but not right now.” Flavia took a deep breath. “People in Portorosso like sea monsters because we are sea monsters.”

Luca had said Signor Giglioli wouldn't mind but Flavia's heart was still thumping as she waited for his reaction.

It was not what she had expected. “Oh, is that so?” he asked with an indulgent smile.

Flavia didn't know how to reply to that. It was Perla who became indignant. “She means it! Her friends are the sea monsters Nonna saw at the zoo,” Perla said. “Everybody's talking about it.”

Giglioli nodded. “Well, I'll have to change my candies, then. Here I thought sea monsters were scaly things, but it turns out they look just like children.”

Flavia was starting to panic. Of all the reactions she'd imagined, it had never occurred to her that somebody might think it was all a game. “Only when we're out of the water,” she said. “When we get back in, we Change. That's what happened at the zoo, was that the fountain broke and everybody got wet!”

“I see, I see,” he said, still humouring them. “I would like to see that! Do you have to be in the ocean, or will any water do?”

“Any water. But I don't do it,” Flavia said. She could feel tears rising. He wasn't going to believe them.

“It's like how some people are born and their eyes or legs don't work,” Perla added.

“Well, that's a shame,” Signor Giglioli said.

Flavia shut her eyes as the tears spilled over. She hated crying. It was bad enough underwater, where all the salt got crusted at the edges of her eyes, but human crying had turned out to be so much worse. Human tears were hot, salty water that left trails down her face – and that would make things even worse, because Signor Giglioli would see that her cheeks were wet and yet she wasn't Changing.

Signor Giglioli sighed. “Oh, no, don't cry,” he said. “Girls, listen. Sea monsters are a fun story, but it's like the Befana bringing you gifts or jaculi hiding in trees. It's not real. People are panicking now, but they'll feel silly in the morning.”

“But they need help!” Flavia protested, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Signor Giglioli held out a handkerchief, but she didn't take it because she didn't know what it was for. “They've been locked up for being sea monsters and I know something awful is going to happen to them. Nobody else is going to do anything because they're all scared! Please!”

“Locked them up?” asked Signor Giglioli. “You mean all that fuss that's going on out there... they've got three children in jail?”

“Yes! I saw it,” said Perla. “I saw Alberto turn into a sea monster, too!”

Signor Giglioli took his apron off. “I'm going to go have a word with some people,” he decided. “You girls wait for me.”

Flavia and Perla hovered in the confetteria doorway while he marched past the triton fountain and into the little crowd.

“Now see here!” they heard him say.

#pixar luca #luca 2021 #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #ercole visconti #fanfiction #a little human (as a treat)

[a-case-of-attachment]

Rating: T

Pairings: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: people treating Witchers like dirt ~ protective Jaskier ~ swearing ~ mentions of blood and injuries

The Lover ->

<- The Hunter

Geralt gritted his jaw, hands curling into fists on the bar top as he tried to keep his anger in check but it was getting hard and harder with every word that was coming out of the inn keeper’s mouth. “We ain’t got room for your kind freak,” he spat out, arms folded across his chest and looking at Geralt like he was the scum of the earth.

Geralt was used to this or he had been used to it but travelling with Jaskier had made him soft, these sort of things happening so rarely now that he had almost forgotten that so many people still hated his kind. Almost but places like this reminded him quick enough. Jaskier wasn’t with him now, had gone running back to the countess de Stael just after the incident with the djinn with nothing more than an enthusiastic wave as he practically ran towards her awaiting carriage they had come across by chance and a promise to meet again soon but that had been months ago.

Not that Geralt cared.

It was better without the bard’s constant noise and habit of finding trouble when there shouldn’t even be any. It wasn’t like the silence was grating on him or that on the long and lonely days he missed Jaskier’s warm and ever optimistic presence or that he had started to talk to Roach more just to fill the silence. Geralt was doing fine on his own but in situations like this Jaskier and his flamboyant way of talking would have come in useful for once. He had a way with words that could either end up with him getting exactly what he wanted or a punch in the teeth. Either way he would probably have better luck then Geralt currently was.

He was tired, covered in monster guts and swamp water and had a gouge on his side that needed cleaning and then probably stitches. Geralt knew he looked a mess, like the monster people often called him but he had just freed the villagers of a Kikimore infestation that he had already been underpaid for by the alderman and his patience was beginning to wear thin. He didn’t want much just a hot bath and something to eat and drink. Sure a warm and dry place to sleep would have been a welcomed luxury but he would settle for the bath and food but the inn keeper wouldn’t even give him that.

“I just want…” he started but was cut off by the sound of several chairs scrapping across the floor, the gentle mummer of chatter dying. “You heard him freak, we ain’t got room for the likes of you here”. Geralt sighed at the gruff voice, able to tell that at least three men stood behind him. They all reeked of drink and anger, ready for a fight that Geralt didn’t want to have.

Resigned to his fate Geralt pushed away from the bar, mumbling a quiet thank you to the inn keeper as he went. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he left, hunching his shoulders and curling in on himself in an attempt to make himself seem smaller. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight or to be chased from the town whilst being pelted with rocks so he would go quietly, using this as a good reminder as to why he shouldn’t let how Jaskier was with him cloud his judgment of other people.

Feeling dejected and stupid for it Geralt made his way back to the stable where he had left Roach. He had already paid for her lodging for the night but he didn’t want to have to come back for her in the morning and risk getting stoned for it. It was a shame, she could do with a good nights rest as much as he could but these things happen and thankfully the stable hand had already fed her. She wasn’t happy about it, huffing and nudging Geralt in the shoulder but she is a good horse and with a slight tug on her reigns she follows after him.

“That’s it girl. Next time I promise we’ll stay all night,” he mumbles, stroking down her snout as he leads her down the road and back towards the woods. It’s a lie, a promise he couldn’t keep and they both knew it, Roach huffing and nudging his shoulder again. This part of the continent wasn’t very friendly to Witcher’s though and Geralt doubted they would have any better luck at the neighbouring villages in the next few days.

That was fine.

He would manage.

Like always.

“Geralt?” He stopped at the familiar voice, head snapping up and in the direction it had come from. There in the middle of the dirt road stood Jaskier. The confusion on his face quickly morphed into excitement and even in the dark of night Geralt could see his blue eyes lighting up. “GERALT!” he exclaims loudly, throwing his arms wide and before Geralt really knew what was happening Jaskier was pulling him into a hug, arms squeezing tightly and patting him on the back.

Geralt grunted, not even having time to react before Jaskier was pulling away, clasping Geralt by the shoulders and smiling widely. “It has been to long my friend,” Jaskier beamed. “Not your friend,” he grunted back automatically, so used to giving that response after all these years despite it no longer being true. Jakier waved him off, stepping back and still smiling brightly as if he hadn’t heard Geralt. “Are you just on your way out or in my dearest Witcher? In I would assume looking like that but it doesn’t matter, regardless of what one it is I insist you join me for a drink. I simply must know what you have been up to these last few months,” Jaskier took Roche’s reigns he spoke, leading the mere back towards the stables they had just come from, the horse gladly following after him at the prospect of getting to return to the warmth and comfort she had been taken from.

“I don’t think…” Geralt started to protest, following behind the bard and eyes darting around the darkened streets, looking for any sign of villagers who would want chase him off with pitchforks and torches. “I simply must insist Geralt,” Jaskier cut him off as they walked back into the stables and towards the bemused stable hand. “You back already?” he grunted, eyeing them suspiciously. Jaskier looked between the two of them, frowning slightly before realisation seemed to dawn on him but Geralt would put money on him not coming to the correct conclusion.

“No rooms left at the inn?” he asked as he passed Roach off to the stable hand along with a couple of coins. Geralt would have told Jaskier not to bother, that Roach’s stay had already been paid for but the boy snatched the money up quickly and was leading the horse away before he could, only just giving Geralt enough time to slip his saddle bags off before she was gone. “No,” he growled, glaring at Jaskier but it didn’t seem to bother him.

Technically Geralt hadn’t lied. There had been no room for him at the inn, even if there had been empty rooms available.

“No bother. I already have a room and you my friend could do with a nice hot bath and something to eat, my treat for killing whatever it is that you are covered in,” Jaskier wrinkled up his nose in disgust as he gestured to Geralt, already on his way out of the stable and back up the road towards the inn. Geralt should say something, should warn the bard that he wasn’t welcomed here and he might find himself out on his ass for bring Geralt back with him but he was tired and sore and he had a small flicker of hope that Jaskier would do what he does best and use his face words to confuse the simple locals and get Geralt into his room without too much trouble.

Geralt trailed after Jaskier, listening to the man ramble on about how the countess had once again left him but this time it had been in Jaskier’s best interest because her cousin had shown up not long before his departure and the man had wandering hands that always seemed to have a fondness for Jaskier’s pert bottom, as the bard so eloquently put it. Geralt just grunted, barely listening to the words as he gripped his bags and tried to make himself look as small as he could.

Jaskier was still talking when he pushed the inn’s door open, the whole room going quiet when Geralt stepped through the door but Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, strutting right up to the bar and leaning against it, smiling brightly up at the man who was scowling at Geralt. “Evening kind sir, I would like a bath please and two bowls of hot stew sent up to my room along with two cups of your finest ale,” he tipped his head back slightly, his bright eyes finally looking up at the inn keeper, only for his smile to fall when he noticed the look on his face. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told ‘im-” he jerked his head towards Geralt, his scowl deepening, “-we ain’t got room for his kind”.

Jaskier stood up straighter, his frown deepening as he looked around the room and taking in the hostility that was directed all at Geralt. “Right,” he mumbled, something dark flashing behind his eyes as his frown twisted. Geralt knew that look, it was he same look he got every time someone insulted Geralt or implied he was less simply because he was a Witcher. It also normally ended up with him getting in a bar fight and Geralt was too tired to take on the ten men that filled the tavern.

‘Jask,” he sighed, every intention of telling him not to worry, that Geralt was fine but like always Jaskier was quicker with his words than Geralt would ever be. “Do you not require coin to run this establishment?” Jaskier turned his cold blue eyes back to the inn keeper, his voice just as cold and seemingly taking the man by surprise. “Yes but,” Jaskier cuts him off, talking over whatever he was going to say but Geralt suspected it would have been a slur on him and his kind. “And do you not rely on the patronage of passing travellers like myself and my friend to earn said coin?” Geralt could feel the tension in the room, could smell the anger and fear but just at the edges something else was starting to creep in, people already shifting in their sets as if they knew where Jaskier was going with his little rant.

The man crossed his arms over his chest, his beady eyes narrowing at Jaskier as he grunted his response, “what is your point bard?” Jaskier smiled slightly, something soft yet some how full of mischief that wouldn’t be out of place when he was in the middle of playing one of his more risqué little ditties. It seemed out of place here where no one was singing along, full of alcohol and joyous in spirit. “I don’t know if you know this but I’m quite famous, wrote a popular little ditty called Toss A Coin, maybe you have heard of it?” Jaskier paused for effect, his eyes sweeping across the room and taking in the uncomfortable look on more than a couple of the men’s faces. So that forsaken song had even made its way to this hell hole.

“It’s quite amazing the power a simple little song can have, so imagine the damage that could be done to an already nameless little shit hole that is nothing more that a mud stain on a map if a song started to circulate about how unwelcoming and vile the people there are. I hate to imagine how quickly said town would fall into ruin, wouldn’t you?” Jaskier said it all with a light and friendly voice, as if he was having a conversation about the weather with an old friend but his eyes stayed cold and angry, fixed on the inn keeper and almost daring him to assume Jaskier was lying about his prowess.

The smell in the room changed once more, anger spiking but the rancid smell of fear began to grow. Towns like this relied heavily on passing trade, selling their wears and skills to those who passed. Its what got them through the long and harsh winters, what kept their families fed and safe and Jaskier was threatening that safety, their livelihoods and all in the name of Geralt’s honour. Sometimes he thought that Jaskier was wrong in the head, making unnecessary enemies because they didn’t treat Geralt how Jaskier thought he should be treated but it also brought a warmth to his chest, his heart beating just that little bit faster for a second or two. Jaskier cared enough to defend him, wanted Geralt to have the luxury of walking the Path and not having to fear he would be turned away or chased by an angry mob. He wanted people to see Geralt how he saw him, a hero, a defender, a person and he wouldn’t settle for anything else.

“What do you want bard?” the inn keeper gritted out between clenched teeth, looking at Jaskier like he wished him dead. Jaskier smiled brightly, his cold anger disappearing as he went back to his normal, cheery self. “As I was saying, my friend here as kindly just rid you of a…” Jaskier looked at Geralt expectantly. “Kikimore,” he grunted, rolling his shoulders and standing a little straighter now that he could feel things shifting in his favour. “A Kikimore, how ghastly. How lucky of you poor, defenceless people that a helpful Witcher come along and got rid of the vile beast before it could eat you all,” he raised his voice, letting it carry across the room and his eyes quickly flickering around the room. The men shifted, an unease settling on them that Geralt would liken it to guilt if he thought the men of this town had it in them to feel anything other than contempt towards him.

“After all that hard and dangerous work you can see that my friend is in desperate need of a hot bath and food and some fine ale so if you could have two bowls of hot stew and two mugs of your finest ale sent up to my room that would be much obliged. Oh and the hot bath as well”. Jaskier looked at the man expectantly, that sickly sweet smile still on his lips. The inn keeper grunted, clearly annoyed by the whole situation. “Cost extra and it better stay in the room,” he jerked his head towards Geralt but didn’t look at him, keeping his angry glare on the bard. Jaskier rolled his eyes but took out his coin purse, laying a few down on the bar top that the man snatched up quickly.

Jaskier didn’t waste any time, getting behind Geralt and shoving him towards the stairs. He could stop him if he wanted to but Geralt allowed the weaker man to direct him to the stairs but Jaskier stopped half way up, he anger getting sharper again. “Oh and no extra bodily fluids, my friend here will know,” he patted Geralt’s shoulders as he spoke and Geralt turned his head to glare at the inn keeper, playing his part in Jaskier’s little intimidation. He would know, always knew when people spat or pissed in his food or drink. It was disgusting but it happened, though no one had yet been stupid enough to try it with Jaskier. Geralt would have made them regret it if they had.

Jaskier didn’t give the man a chance to answer, pushing Geralt back up the rest of the steps before slipping around him and heading towards his room at the end of the corridor. Geralt had only just gotten into the room before he started fussing over him, hands flittering about him but not touching all the gore that clung to him. “Jaskier,” he grumbled, his tone heavy with disapproval. He appreciated the other man’s efforts but Geralt really wasn’t worth the trouble he could get into.

Jaskier scoffed, rolling his eyes at Geralt as he headed to the door when a loud bang came. “Oh hush, they were being bigoted assholes and after you saved their ungrateful lives as well. They should truly be ashamed of themselves,” he didn’t even look at the three rather burly and angry looking men on the other side of the door as he yanked it open, holding it ajar as they brought in a bath tub and the first few buckets of what Geralt could already tell was tepid water.

They didn’t look at Geralt as they placed the tub in front of the already lit fire and then quickly disappeared. Jaskier left the door open, obviously optimistic that they would continue to fill the shallow tub and not leave it with the inch or two of water that was in it. “Still,” Geralt grunted, knowing that Jaskier would understand what he was trying to say without him having to use the unneeded amount of words that Jaskier was so fond of. Geralt could take care of himself but Jaskier was human and if anything happened to him because of Geralt, well he didn’t really know what he would do.

Jaskier sighed, heading towards Geralt as the men came back with multiple buckets and continued to fill the bath. He stopped in front of Geralt, looking up at him with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “Its nothing Geralt really. You know I hate how these people treat you, plus what are friends for if not to help each other out in difficult times,” he spoke softly, hands hovering above Geralt’s chest as if he was going to put his hands on him but seemed to have thought better of it.

“Not your friend,” Geralt grunted but he could feel a small smile tugging at his lips, no heat to his words. Jaskier smiled at him, understanding what Geralt was truly trying to say. “Of course, how silly of me to forget that Witcher’s don’t have friends,” Jaskier teased, any lingering anger subsiding as the smell of wild flowers and summer got stronger, Jaskier feeling happy. Geralt liked that smell, wished that he could bottle it for when the other man wasn’t there, for when he came to places like this with people who only saw a monster. It would be a good reminder that there was at least one person out there who cared, one person who he could make happy, who didn’t think him anything more than a man.

They stood there for a long moment, staring into the others eyes and smiling, neither of them really paying attention to the men filling the tub until someone slammed the door closed and Jaskier jumped back, clearly surprised by the sudden noise. The bard laughed nervously, stepping away from Geralt and towards the bed and his own bags, rifling through them in what Geralt thought was an obvious attempt to make himself seem busy. “Well? Come on now Geralt, into the tub before the water gets cold. When was the last time you had a proper bath any way, your hair looks like a rats nest. You need to start looking after yourself better Witcher or you will end up having to cut that precious hair of yours off and wouldn’t that be a travesty,” he called over his shoulder, brandishing a hand behind him towards the now filled tub.

Geralt smiled as he began to work on the buckles of his armour. Jaskier had started to hum, that same sad and wistful tune that he had been working on for a couple of years now. The tune was so familiar by now that Geralt instantly felt himself relax. He had missed this, Jaskier’s gentle nagging and soft humming though he would never admit it to the bard. It was rare to have someone show this much concern for him, even among his brothers and it made him feel warm and wanted to have such attention.

Geralt made quick work of stripping out of his armour and clothes, leaving them to the side to be dealt with latter. Jaskier truly was a good friend and Geralt knew he was lucky to have someone care about him the way Jaskier did. Not many Witcher’s got that and he should tell Jaskier how grateful he was for it but words were never his strong point and he didn’t want to fuck it up. He always felt actions were better than words anyway and he hoped that from his actions Jaskier knew how he felt.

“By the gods Geralt, why didn’t you say someone had tried to gut you like a fish,” Jaskier screeched loudly.

Fuck.

He had forgotten about the gouge in his side.

#the witcher #the witcher tv #netflix the witcher #jaskier #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivera #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x dandelion

[hellsdisneyprincess]

Heaven and Angels Headcanons

((First off, I'm doing this mobile so my options are weird such as no title? Boo. Anyway, I kind of ended up having to format this minimally so it's more in essay/paragraph form rather than more digestible bullet points. As mentioned before, won't likely actually use any of these because any threads with angel or Heaven characters would be using their headcanons. But since I had thought about making a fic of Sir Pentious getting used to Heaven that I then scrapped, I had all of these anyway. So I'll put everything under a Read More for y'all to peruse as you see fit.))

There are two main philosophies that Winners have when going about their afterlife. The vast majority of people don't fully go to either extreme but operate somewhere in the middle (though there is certainly a vocal minority espousing the ideals of either end).

The first is to treat the afterlife as an extension of the mortal life. The more extreme of these views take this to mean that one must actively remain pure to "deserve" Heaven. However, evidence against this is the fact that no Winner has been known to be cast down like Fallen. The majority of people instead use this in the sense that being good to one another is encouraged. There is not a form capitalist society and all needs are met. Also most people tend to like an idea of peaceful familiarity and just go about their days in what is essentially an ideal version of their previous lives.

The other philosophy is that the afterlife is a reward or a permanent vacation from the mortal life. You did your time doing what was needed to get here, so you celebrate! Let loose! Do what you couldn't or wouldn't before! The most extreme of these do basically anything and everything, ESPECIALLY stuff that would be considered sinful. The reason being is that they refrained from such things in life and nobody has been sent to Hell after the fact, they can indulge now. Though once Sinners start manifesting in Heaven, there will be a major shakeup in this. One of the key differences between how Hell operates and the extreme end of this philosophy is that there's a feeling that the acts are not permanent, consequential, or "real" in some way. If someone dies, they just come back! Anyone operating or living in this part of Heaven is also well aware of the fact that in this section, anything goes, and gives implicit consent. For example, they wear some kind of notation of what things they consent to in the otherwise PVP zone. So even in all that chaos, there's an underlying organization to it.

Most Winners though don't go nearly that far, or at least not long-term. They might try things here and there, or maybe a lot of things for a short time, but end up going back to a "normal" way of life after. Again, like that side of things are a vacation.

There are also three main zones of Heaven. The Entry which consists of the Gates, Heaven's offices, a residential area that serves new Winners until they find a more long-term living situation, and a small commercial district mostly advertising the other offerings in Heaven or serving those living in this zone.

Then there's the main Residential Zone. This is made up of multiple areas. A lot of people like living in groups similar to their own time and place on Earth, and areas reflect that. Other like living in more timeless or fantastical areas with different themes. There are also different size homes/lots depending on if you want to live with your family/descendants/ancestors, or in smaller groups or even on your own. This zone also has commercial districts, but often in the individual areas to fit the needs of those specific residents. Most people settle down, but there's nothing against moving from area to area to try something new.

The last zone is the Recreational zone. It houses all the entertainment areas, including the PVP area mentioned before, beaches, shopping centers, concert venues, etc. It also includes an Education Center where Winners can learn skills they've always wanted to try from the various experts through time. Similarly, there is a Simulation Center where you can try out new experiences or lifestyles in an even more temporary fashion. For example, if you wanted to pursue your dream of being a rock star, you could either learn the instrument in the Education Center and try to make it, or fake the skill and move right onto the success fantasy in the Simulation Center. In the former, you learn for real and the success isn't guaranteed. In the latter, you don't need to out any work in, but it doesn't exist outside the Simulation.

As mentioned previously, Heaven is very organized. Almost suffocatingly bureaucratic if you want to do more than simply enjoy Heaven's offerings. Based on Lucifer's abstract flashback about his fall in More Than Anything, I've determined that there are six main angels that have their own departments. Sera being only one of them.

1. Admissions/Hell (Sera)

2. Earthly Communications

3. Winners

4. Transcendence

5. Infrastructure

6. Heavenborn

Admissions/Hell

These are together since when this department was originally formed, it was under the idea of "who is or isn't accepted into Heaven?" With Sera coordinating efforts as needed. But over time, the communication with Hell became less of a priority until Sera really feared sudden population boom would threaten Heaven. It makes most sense that this happened during the Flood and all of Earth's population was cast down. Shortly thereafter, the Exterminations began and communication lulled besides the Hellborn pass negotiations. At least until the events of Hazbin Hotel. The main durites of this department is getting new Winners situated, including becoming orientated with Heaven. There is a partnership program where certain experienced Winners can volunteer to show new ones around until they get comfortable with things and settle in. (My OC was in this program).

Earthly Communications

This department mainly dealt with anything on Earth itself. This includes C.H.E.R.U.B. and any other "divine interventions" that may be called for. It also allows for Winners to see or intangibly visit locations around the world for those who had always wanted to travel. Winners can also watch their living friends or family from this department.

Winners

This department manages affairs for Winners. Managing disputes, making sure to set up whatever recreation they want, and just making sure things run smoothly on their end.

Transcendence

For Winners when they are ready to Transcend or move on, this department facilitates it. It's billed as either reincarnation or "becoming one with the universe" and so on, but just like how Sera and them don't actually know what it takes to get into Heaven, this department doesn't actually know what happens when you fade. It would be a really big scandal if it were to get out.

Infrastructure

Mostly just makes sure that any buildings needed are made and maintained. This department also manages the resources used by it's inhabitants. It's not quite as limitless as they let on.

Heavenborn

Simply manages the creation and behavior of purely Heavenborn beings such as the cherubs, etc. Just like how Sinners can't reproduce, Winners can't either. This department takes things very seriously in order to try to prevent anyone from Falling.

#hazbin hotel headcanon

[idabbleincrazy]

Damage (A Missing Scenes Ficlet)

Chapter Two: Devastated

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: E

Pairing: Spangel

Word Count: 2591

Warnings: ANGST!, h/c, blood drinking, Sire/Childe bonds, frottage, coming untouched, coming in pants, very brief anal play, missing scene fic, ep 5x11, sensation play/kink (if you squint)

Summary: Angel takes care of Spike, as ill-advised as that may be.

A/N: Don't hate me!! I didn't originally intend for this one to be quite this painful. But gotta get thru the pain to get to the happy ending, sometimes.

By the time the elevator doors opened on the penthouse, Angel could only hope the drugs coursing through Spike’s system had dulled his senses enough to block out most of the no doubt strong scent of his arousal filling the air. Spike stood morosely in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do with himself, and Angel felt a sharp stab of anger that Dana had reduced his resilient Childe to this, followed quickly by a flush of guilt…his own contradictory actions up to now weren't exactly helpful in leaving the blonde surefooted.

Tamping down the bulk of his emotions, Angel led Spike to the spare bedroom and helped him settle on the freshly made bed. He straightened up and turned to leave the room when Spike finally spoke again.

"Wait."

"I'll be right back, Spike, I'm just going to heat up some blood."

"Oh, right. Um, thanks." Spike grimaced at himself as Angel walked away, mentally kicking himself for letting even that scrap of neediness show.

In the kitchen, Angel microwaved a mug of the human blood the doctor had issued him and grabbed the bottle of pills Spike had been prescribed, just in case the blonde needed another dose. The potent scent of the blood did not help deter his throbbing cock. When the microwave dinged, he took the mug and headed back to the room, adjusting himself as best as he could and hoping Spike wouldn't question it.

Spike was in the same spot he'd left him in, his numb hands resting on either side of him. He crossed the room and handed him the mug, instantly cringing inwardly at his own thoughtlessness as Spike's hands fumbled, his inhuman reflexes the only thing that saved the carpet from a ghastly stain as he caught the mug before it spilled.

"Christ!"

"Shit, sorry! I wasn't thinking. Here…"

Angel set the mug and the pain pills on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to Spike. He briefly contemplated simply holding the mug up for Spike to drink from, but quickly gave in to what he really wanted to do, what he'd felt the pull to do from the moment he'd found his Grandchilde so broken and battered. Unbuttoning his shirt a little, and studiously ignoring the confused look he felt Spike giving him, he gulped down the contents of the mug, refusing to let himself savor his first taste of human blood since Angelus had drank from a dying Lilah. Turning to Spike, he eased the jacket off his shoulders, taking care not to pull too harshly on his healing arms, and tossed the coat over at the end of the bed.

"Oi, what're you playing at? Coulda just got me a straw ya know, git. Now what am I supposed to eat?"

"Shut up before I change my mind and leave you here hungry."

Spike scowled but kept silent, wondering just what the hell the older vampire was up to as he maneuvered them both further onto the mattress, tugging his slim body against his side as he situated himself up against the headboard. He still couldn't get his hands to work right, but most of the fog had cleared from his brain…not that that had done anything to dispel his confusion at Angel's actions. He knew what it looked like he was doing, but it didn't add up to what he had come to expect of the brunette.

"Drink, Childe", Angel whispered gently, his large hand cupping the back of Spike's head as he pulled him down to the bared curve of his shoulder. Spike's eyes rounded in wonder as, against all conceivable odds, his suspicion was proven to be correct. "It'll heal you faster."

Spike resisted, pushing back against Angel's hand, very much aware of his vulnerable position, his backside bare as the hospital gown bunched up around his groin during the shifting of their bodies. Cleaning the blood from Angel's wounds after their big fight was one thing, but to be actually offered to feed from his Sire…

"Dammit, Spike, will you just let me take care of you?" Feeling embarrassed, and guilty, at Spike's hesitancy, Angel let out some of the anger at his Childe's disobedience he'd been holding back. "Jesus, it's bad enough you couldn't just do as I said and waited for us to come up with a plan before running off and getting yourself mutilated, bad enough I had to be played for a fool by Andrew, after having to watch him fawn all over you like some simpering pup…can. You. Just. Drink?"

That did the trick. Growling at Angel's high and mighty tone, Spike shifted into game face and struck, his fangs sinking sharply into Angel's throat and pulling a quick yelp from the brunette at the unexpected jolt of pleasure-pain. He should have known the blonde would retaliate to his grousing. Angel pinched the nape of Spike's neck in warning and felt him smirking against his skin.

"Damn brat!" Angel grunted, slightly breathless, as Spike began to drink, shuffling closer against his side, one arm laying limp across his stomach in a parody of holding him in place. He could already feel the effects of the pull of blood through his veins, his nearly flaccid cock sparking to life at Spike's first mouthful. He'd forgotten what it felt like, having family feed from you. The heady haze that settled over you as you shared yourself this way. As Spike settled in against him, slender hand sluggishly pawing over his torso, he let himself relax into the ritual of it, eyes slipping closed, his hand cradling the back of Spike's head, his other arm circling the slim vampire, large hand splaying across the cool, bare skin of his back. "Good boy."

Spike let out a whimper-growl-snuffle against his throat but did not otherwise object to the soft praise. Sire's blood was coursing through him, leaving him more complacent and accepting of the old epithet than he might have been. Already, he could feel the soft fabric of Angel's shirt beneath his fingers distinctly more than he had just a minute ago, the numbness and prickly pins-and-needles feeling ebbing away with each swallow of the potent fluid.

After the first few hurried gulps, Spike had slowed to long, teasing drafts, his tongue coming out to play over the taut skin of Angel's stretched throat, coaxing the blood into his mouth. Angel's cock began to throb once more, but he was reluctant to hurry the blonde to end his game. He knew his Childe constantly felt the loss of the hunt just as acutely as he did, and was willing to play the victim in this caricature of a kill for the time being. Especially if it meant more time with his William in his arms. For that's almost what Spike became again, like this. Almost. And for now, Angel would take what he could get. For now, it would have to be enough. Unfair to ask for more when he knew he would just have to shut his boy out again, cast him back out into the world, in hopes to keep him out of the clutches of the dark evil he had surrounded himself with.

As he should have expected, and kind of did, at the back of his mind, a few minutes into the feeding, he could feel Spike's insistent erection nudging at his hip, his own aching length twitching in sympathetic response. Angel bit back a groan and shifted, trying to place a modicum of distance between their lower bodies without breaking their connection completely. Spike felt the loss of his solid torso against his and let out a soft, plaintive moan, slipping the arm he'd been laying on under Angel's armpit, wrapping up around his shoulder to anchor himself as he scooted forward to close the gap between them, one leg stretching over to lay between Angel's, leaving him half on the bed, half in the brunette's lap.

"Spike", Angel rasped out, voice husky with the flaring arousal and trembling with the strain of his resistance, "we can’t do this…shouldn’t…it’s not a good idea.”

Spike knew he was right, that he should be guarding himself against the disappointment and emotional pain he was sure would follow if he went any further than this, but he was too far in arousal to give much care. He’d smelled the faintest trace of desire wafting off of Angel since he’d taken him from the medlab, the scent only growing stronger as his drug-induced fog faded. Deny it all he wanted, his Sire wanted him, and he wanted Angel, the taste of powerful Aurelian blood only ramping that need higher as it awakened memories of days spent tangled together, fangs sunk into each other as they strengthened their familial bond through blood and cum. He needed that again, if only for a few fleeting moments. Disengaging himself from Angel's throat, he pulled back and leveled as best a glare as he could manage through the lust he had no doubt was etched on his face.

"Christ, mate, it's just a shag, yeah? You need it, I need it, 's what the blood does to us." Seeing the brunette wavering in his conviction, Spike went for the killing blow, dropping his gaze meekly, letting some of the real pain he felt show through as he called on Angel's guilty conscience. "'Sides, thought you were gonna take care of me…Sire?"

Angel groaned out his defeat, letting his head thump back against the headboard, and pulled Spike's head back down to his neck, arching into the bite as his fangs slid back into the clotting wound. Better for them both if this happened with Spike's face buried in his shoulder, where he couldn't see the look of erotic splendor, made it easier to let go later, if the blonde couldn't cry out his pleasure…last time had almost made it impossible to push him away.

"You are evil, Childe," Angel growled out as Spike continued his slow, measured swallows, moaning against his throat in response, slim hips bucking forward to thrust his cock against Angel's side. "Evil, and smug."

Giving in fully, Angel slid his hand down from the back of Spike's head and undid the flimsy tie holding the thin hospital gown closed and pulled it away. Letting go of his hold on Spike's slim form, he tore open his shirt, uncaring of the sound of buttons clattering to the floor. If he was damning himself anyway, he wanted the feel of flesh on flesh. Craning his head to look between them, he moaned at the sight of Spike's cock as he pulled the blonde fully into his lap, the ruddy head glistening with pre-cum as it poked up from the foreskin.

Spike went willingly where Angel tugged him, his arms adjusting their hold accordingly, slinging over Angel's shoulders. He could sense the older vampire turning off the lamp beside them and sighed against cool skin as he felt his arms wrap back around him, pressing him against a broad, solid chest. He shoved aside the clench of emotion squeezing at his heart at Angel's need for darkness to cloak them as they submitted to their baser urges, he'd deal with the hurt after. His cock throbbed at the feel of Angel's hardness pushing against the curve of his ass through his slacks, and he cursed the fabrics existence between them, wanting, despite himself, to feel that thick length in its entirety. Shaking away his regret, he rolled his hips forward, thrusting up against Angel’s stomach as the larger vampire crushed him closer, the ridged head of his cock snagging deliciously against the dip of Angel’s navel, drawing a moan from them both.

As Spike undulated against his torso, Angel drew his legs up, bracing his knees against Spike’s lower back as he bucked his hips up, seeking friction on his aching cock. Spike's arms flexed, clutching him closer as he rode him, pre-cum slicking the path of his cock as it slid over his belly, and he buried his head into the curve of Spike's neck, barely succeeding in refraining from letting his fangs elongate and sink into the smooth, pale skin beneath his lips. If Spike hadn't needed every drop for himself so badly, he would have taken some of it back. He distracted himself from the need to taste by submersing himself in touch, running his hands along Spike's back, fingers tracing over the notches of the prominent bowed spine of his still-too-skinny Childe.

Spike timed his gulps to each upward push of his leaking cock between their squished-together bodies, moaning around the mouthful of blood as he felt Angel's hands slip down to palm the globes of his ass. Between the rubbing, the taste of Sire's blood coating his tongue, and the dangerous swirl of emotion and memory filling his head, he was already exceedingly close to cumming. He rocked back against Angel's hands, letting out a soft gasp as he felt a finger slip between his cheeks, and sped his thrusts up into the tunnel of flesh they'd created around his cock. It was too much. Easing his fangs from Angel's throat, he slipped back into his human guise, lapping his tongue over the closing wound as he focused on the feel of cock and finger. The second he felt the rough pad of the curious digit circle the rim of his clenching hole, he lost it, crying out a soft whimpering moan as he came, his cool seed surging out between them, coating their stomachs and running down the length of his pulsing shaft.

"Fuck, Spike!" Angel felt Spike twitch under his finger, felt the splash of cum on his skin, and bucked up one last time, crushing the smaller vampire to him as he felt his own release flooding his pants, shuddering through the rolling waves of pleasure as they rode out their orgasms together.

As their climaxes subsided, Spike clutched desperately at Angel's body, wanting to delay the moment when he would undoubtedly pull away. He kept his head burrowed into the crook of his shoulder, hoping to stave off the inevitable, and could have wailed out his pitiful frustration when he felt strong, though shaky, hands tugging his arms away.

"Don't. Don't go, Angel."

Angel groaned inwardly and forced himself to continue prying the suddenly lamprey-limpet-like vampire away from him, hurriedly bundling him under the covers as he slid from the bed before he could give in again. With a conviction he didn't feel, he looked away from Spike as he spoke.

"I have to. Just a fuck, right? Consider yourself taken care of, Spike." Without looking back, not wanting to see the hurt in those barely visible blue eyes, he crossed over to the door, pausing in the doorway. "There's fresh clothes for you in the dresser, and more blood in the fridge if you get hungry again. If the pain starts up again, take two of the pills. I'm going to shower and get some sleep, I suggest you do the same. Do not disturb me."

Spike watched in silence as Angel closed the door firmly behind him, staring at it for long minutes before turning over onto his stomach, uncaring of the drying cum, flaking and itchy, on his stomach. Emotional fucking whiplash. Again. He cursed his own words being thrown back at him. Just a shag. Yeah, right. With Angel, it was never just a fuck.

~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction @captain-peroxid3

#spangel #buffyverse fanfic #a:ts fanfic #lemon #missing scene: damage #missing scenes fic #ep5x11

[decadeyellow01]

Everything you Don't Know About Show May Shock You

This creates opportunities to the Eddie in addition to Edwina Haskells regarding the world. Such as June Cleaver, idol judges may eventually see through the Eddie or even Edwina Haskells that are abusing discovery (and their opponents) within the cases before all of them - but not really always before charges are inflated out there of proportion together with the associated with the case. The principle of? complete? or perhaps? full? discovery might sound appealing to law school professors, nevertheless the costs worker thereto has produced our civil court docket system too costly a forum for too many -- and, yet, right now there? s no practical alternative available. Using clients whose security costs are staying fronted by responsibility insurers the whining is sometimes a whole lot worse: Why do I need to do all this kind of stuff? And, eventually, we also realize that this takes place despite the fact that an excellent many cases are settled without match ever being recorded. The lawyer who else loses credibility with the court may get that the wonderful case citations in addition to flowery language inside the world can? t save the particular client? s lead to.

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This, too, is being human. Therefore it? s merely human nature of which clients, and almost all the lawyers who can, will avoid discovery whenever they will can (and, sometimes, even when they will shouldn? t). Of which? s also human nature. Therefore-human nature appearing what it is-the party seeking typically the court? s aid in enforcing discovery, in apparent conformity using the rules, specifically Rule 201(k), specifically when represented simply by an Edward Haskell, Esq., will, at least at first of all, command the court? s sympathy. 안전한 카지노사이트 In the event that your trial is being held outside of southern Nevada, the Las Vegas lawbreaker defense attorney will charge for the time of travel. And even we also know that most-the overwhelming vast majority of-civil cases are really disposed of without trial. Even when some damaging stuff sometimes remains buried during pre-suit analysis, cases don? to typically arrive in court without both equally sides currently knowing quite a bit, good and bad, concerning the controversy. When you desire in order to have usage of the big selection involving Traditional decorations, nevertheless you don? to have access in order to a neighborhood Holiday retail store, make an attempt to give online shopping a lot of believed.

And yet we can say that we don? big t behave that method. Anyone who has ever enjoyed a team game, or had a new kid within a staff sport, has learned (often the hard way) that the umpire or referee doesn? t always notice (or recognize) the particular provocation that gives rise to typically the retaliation. But the retaliation is almost often seen, and disciplined.? s just information that might damage our cause that we try to hold hidden. Cases settle without suit since lots of info is voluntarily unveiled. These disclosures are usually willingly made throughout in an attempt to resolve cases in the earliest probable opportunity. A court might not immediately acknowledge that the action to compel is usually unfair or unjust because the fundamental discovery requests are usually irrelevant, overbroad, overly burdensome, and/or largely disproportionate to typically the dispute in issue. A jury test, you may have heard, is a new proceeding through which 10 strangers choose get together has the best lawyer. You are generally sure to provide an awesome baby shower with the right planning and preparation. The damning documents are thoroughly arranged and an explanatory letter will be sent in an effort to make typically the other party to the contract realize the particular consequence of his / her or her break the rules of. Why does this automatically make feel to recreate all the information received or exchanged pre-suit?

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[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

#loki mcu #dom!loki x you #dom!loki x you smut #dom!loki x sub!reader #dom!loki x reader #ceo!loki #loki x you smut #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston loki #loki fic

[shkspr]

hi. on your post where you may or may not have ended on 'moffat is either your angel or your devil' did you have maybe an elaboration on that somewhere that i could possibly hear about. i'm very much a capaldi era stan and i've never tried to defend the matt smith era even though it had delightful moments sometimes so i wonder where that puts me. i'd love to hear your perspective on moffat as a person with your political perspective. -nicole

hi ok sorry i took so long to respond to this but i dont think you know how LOADED this question is for me but i am so happy to elaborate on that for you. first a few grains of salt to flavor your understanding of the whole situation: a. im unfairly biased against moffat bc im a davies stan and a tennant stan; b. i still very much enjoy and appreciate moffat era who for many reasons; and c. i hate moffat on a personal level far more than i could ever hate his work.

the thing is that its all always gonna be a bit mixed up bc i have to say a bunch of seemingly contradictory things in a row. for instance, a few moffat episodes are some of my absolute favorites of the rtd era, AND the show went way downhill when moffat took over, AND the really good episodes he wrote during the rtd era contained the seeds of his destruction.

like i made that post about the empty child/the doctor dances and it holds true for blink and thats about it bc the girl in the fireplace and silence in the library/forest of the dead are good but not nearly on the same level, and despite the fact that i like them at least nominally, they are also great examples of everything i hate about moffat and how he approached dw as a whole.

basically. doctor who is about people. there are many things about moffats tenure as showrunner that i think are a step up from rtd era who! actual gay people, for one! but i think that can likely be attributed mostly to an evolving Society as opposed to something inherent to him and his work, seeing as rtd is literally gay, and the existence of queer characters in moffats work doesnt mean the existence of good queer characters (ill give him bill but thats it!)

i have a few Primary Grievances with moffat and how he ran dw. all of them are things that got better with capaldi, but didnt go away. they are as follows:

moffat projects his own god complex onto the doctor

rtd era who had a doctor with a god complex. you cant ever be the doctor and not have a god complex. the problem with moffats era specifically is that the god complex was constant and unrepentant and was seen as a fundamental personality trait of the doctor rather than a demon he has to fight. he has the Momence where you feel bad for him, the Momence where he shows his humility or whatever and youre reminded that he doesnt want to be the lonely god, but those are just. moments. in a story where the doctor thinks hes the main character. rtd era doctor was aware that he wasnt the main character. he had to be an authority sometimes and he had to be the loner and he had to be sad about it, but he ultimately understood that he was expendable in a narrative sense.

this is how you get lines like “were the thin fat gay married anglican marines, why would we need names as well?” from the same show that gave you the gut punch moment at the end of midnight when they realize that nobody asked the hostess for her name. and on the one hand, thats a small sticking point, but on the other hand, its just one small example of the simple disregard that moffat has for humanity.

incidentally, this is a huge part of why sherlock sucked so bad: moffats main characters are special bc theyre so much bigger and better than all the normal people, and thats his downfall as a showrunner. he thinks that his audience wants fucking sheldon cooper when what they want is people.

like, ok. think of how many fantastic rtd era eps are based in the scenario “what if the doctor wasnt there? what if he was just out of commission for a bit?” and how those eps are the heart of the show!! bc theyre about people being people!! the thing is that all of the rtd era companions would have died for the doctor but he understood and the story understood that it wasnt about him.

this is like. nine sending rose home to save her life and sacrifice his own vs clara literally metaphysically entwining her existence w the doctor. ten also sending rose with her family to save her life vs river being raised from infancy to be obsessed w the doctor and then falling in love w him. martha leaving bc she values herself enough to make that decision vs amy being treated like a piece of meat.

and this is simultaneously a great callback to when i said that moffats episodes during the rtd era sometimes had the same problems as his show running (bc girl in the fireplace reeks of this), and a great segue into the next grievance.

moffat hates women

he hates women so fucking much. g-d, does steven moffat ever hate women. holy shit, he hates women. especially normal human women who prioritize their normal human lives on an equal or higher level than the doctor. moffat hated rose bc she wasnt special by his standards. the empty child/the doctor dances is the nicest he ever treated her, and she really didnt do much in those eps beyond a fuck ton of flirting.

girl in the fireplace is another shining example of this. youve got rose (who once again has another man to keep her busy, bc moffat doesnt think shes good enough for the doctor) sidelined for no reason only to be saved by the doctor at the last second or whatever. and then youve got reinette, who is pretty and powerful and special!

its just. moffat thinks that the doctor is as shallow and selfish as he is. thats why he thinks the doctor would stay in one place with reinette and not with rose. bc moffat is shallow and sees himself in the doctor and doesnt think he should have to settle for someone boring and normal.

not to mention rose met the doctor as an adult and chose to stay with him whereas reinette is. hm. introduced to the doctor as a child and grows up obsessed with him.

does that sound familiar? it should! bc it is also true of amy and river. and all of them are treated as viable romantic pairings. bc the only women who deserve the doctor are the ones whose entire existence revolves around him. which includes clara as well.

genuinely i think that at least on some level, not even necessarily consciously, that bill was a lesbian in part bc capaldi was too old to appeal to mainstream shippers. like twelve/clara is still a thing but not as universally appealing as eleven/clara but i am just spitballing. but i think they weighed the pros and cons of appealing to the woke crowd over the het shippers and found that gay companion was more profitable. anyway the point is to segue into the next point, which is that moffat hates permanent consequences.

moffat hates permanent consequences

steven moffat does not know how to kill a character. honestly it feels like hes doing it on purpose after a certain point, like he knows he has this habit and hes trying to riff on it to meme his own shit, but it doesnt work. it isnt funny and it isnt harmless, its bad writing.

the end of the doctor dances is so poignant and so meaningful and so fucking good bc its just this once! everybody lives, just this once! and then he does p much the same thing in forest of the dead - this one i could forgive, bc i do think that preserving those peoples consciousnesses did something for the doctor as a character, it wasnt completely meaningless. but everything after that kinda was.

rory died so many times its like. get a hobby lol. amy died at least once iirc but it was all a dream or something. clara died and was erased from the doctors memory. river was in prison and also died. bill? died. all of them sugarcoated or undone or ignored by the narrative to the point of having effectively no impact on the story. the point of a major character death is that its supposed to have a point. and you could argue that a piece of art could be making a point with a pointless death, ie. to put perspective on it and remind you that bad shit just happens, but with moffat the underlying message is always “i can do whatever i want, nothing is permanent or has lasting impact ever.”

basically, with moffat, tragedy exists to be undone. and this was a really brilliant, really wonderful thing in the doctor dances specifically bc it was the doctor clearly having seen his fair share of tragedy that couldnt be helped, now looking on his One Win with pride and delight bc he doesnt get wins like this! and then moffat proceeded to give him the same win over and over and over and over. nobody is ever dead. nobody is ever unable to be saved. and if they are, really truly dead and/or gone, then thats okay bc moffat has decided that [insert mitigating factor here]*

*the mitigating factor is usually some sort of computerized database of souls.

i can hear the moffat stans falling over themselves to remind me that amy and rory definitely died, and they did - after a long and happy life together, they died of old age. i dont consider that a character death any more than any other character choosing to permanently leave the tardis.

and its not just character deaths either, its like, everything. the destruction of gallifrey? never mind lol! character development? scrapped! the same episode four times? lets give it a fifth try and hope nobody notices. bc he doesnt know how to not make the doctor either an omnipotent savior or a self-pitying failure.

it is in nature of doctor who, i believe, for the doctor to win most of the time. like, it wouldnt be a very good show if he didnt win most of the time. but it also wouldnt be a very good show if he won all of the time. my point is that moffats doctor wins too often, and when he doesnt win, it feels empty and hollow rather than genuinely humbling, and you know hes not gonna grow from it pretty much at all.

so like. again, i like all of doctor who i enjoy all of it very much. i just think that steven moffat is a bad show runner and a decent writer at times. and it is frustrating. and im not here to convince or convert anyone im just living my truth. thank you for listening.

#sorry if this is repetitive or makes no sense or if i got some details of the show wrong #i simply couldnt be bothered to put too much effort into this post #lest it become a research paper and take me several weeks to answer #anyway thats all my opinions #dw #ok to rb

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious. 

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan 

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put. 

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news. 

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands. 

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all). 

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective. 

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #shall-we-date-obey-me

[sohin-ace]

Bucciarati - My little Seastar

Sister reader. Enjoy~

"Hey, Bucciarati! Can you help me for a sec?"

You turned towards the direction of the voice calling you and stopped in your tracks on the wooden docks.

"What do you want, Valentino?" You spat, a bit more harshly than intended.

The smug boy who was crouched on his zodiac chuckled at you. "Aw, come on, Bucciarati! Don't be like that. I just need some help to tie the rope. Your dad is a fisherman, right? You should know knots like no one else!"

Even though he had said this as a way to woo you and flatter you somehow, you couldn't help but hear it as a condescending remark. You crossed your arms over your chest and he pouted at the glare you sent him.

"Pretty please~? No funny business, I swear! Look, the guys aren't even here, I'm all alone. You can trust me!"

That's right. Valentino and his little gang took great pleasure in teasing you and bothering you at every corner and it pissed you off. No matter how much you insulted them, ignored them or avoided them, they never seemed to stop their stupid and useless bullying.

But sadly, oh so sadly, the Bucciarati that you were was kind. Too kind. You despised that you were so gentle-hearted, but in the end, this is how your father and brother had raised you.

You huffed and slumped your arms loose along your body, defeated. "Fine!" You dragged your sandals over the dock and approached him. "It better be quick."

The boy beamed as you embarked on the zodiac next to him, "Sure thing! Thanks a lot, girl. I'll make it up to you!"

He gave you the ropes as you crouched down at his place and got to work. But without you noticing, the boy had swiftly slid his leg over the vehicle and easily jumped back into the dock, leaving you behind.

Before you could even turn around and ask where he was going, the brat, now accompanied by all three of his little buddies that appeared out of their hiding spot, all kicked the zodiac off of the dock before you could even tie it.

"Waah-!"

You lost balance at the violent jerk of the boat and yelped, letting go of the ropes that could have saved you from your demise.

You couldn't even get back to your knees and try desperately to grab onto the dock's wooden planks. You heard the boys snickering and laughing at you as you drifted farther and farther away from the land into the water.

"I fucking knew it you disgusting piece of TRASH!" You yelled at them, angry with them obviously, but also angry with yourself for granting that bastard the benefit of the doubt. "You know damn well I can't swim!"

They all seemed to laugh even louder, obnoxiously. "Too bad for you Bucciarati! Maybe you shouldn't be so stupid next time! BWAHAHAHA!"

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE VALENTINO! SCREW YOU!"

Your curses and wails seem to fall into deaf ears as you drifted even farther away from the coast, with no way of even paddling back.

Looking around towards the much bigger boats parked along the docks, you could only hope 'he' would hear you.

"PAPA!! PAPAAA!!!" You called desperately. Surely he would hear you, he wasn't far after all, you did come all the way here to bring him his lunch. He must still be somewhere around the fishing boats.

After a few more vain attempts to call for your father, you settled to accept that he wouldn't hear you, nor would the other fishermen that were already far gone from their boats to bring their catches to land.

You sat on the damp zodiac and brought your knees to your chest, not even caring if your sundress slid down your thighs indecently and got stained by the salty water. Stupid Valentino couldn't even keep his tiny boat clean.

"Stupid, stupid..." Your voice cracked, threatening to break into a sob. "If he was a sailor he'd be dead before even sailing. That's how stupid this stupid boy is. Stupid."

With only your expletives to reassure you in your demise, you buried half of your face in your arms now craddling your cold knees.

Everything was so silent, the sea did a great job at muting every sound around the coast and you felt the loneliest and most scared you had ever been since you were a child.

You thought nobody would find you, and you'd be dead drowning because you could never learn to swim and since nobody even noticed your absence in minutes that felt like hours, nobody would cry for you if you died here either.

And so the stinging tears prickled at your eyes.

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice calling your name, but brushed it off as the wind. "Y/N is that you?"

You looked up towards the insistant voice in a sliver of hope and, like an angel fallen from heaven, you were met with the caring blue gaze of your big brother from the railings of one of the high boats right next to where you had drifted to.

"Bruno!" You gasped and got up immediately, almost falling over from the sudden sway of the boat under your weight. "A-ah! Bruno help me, I'm stuck!"

"Hold on!" The worried face of the male hesitated to leave you for even a split second. "I'm coming down. Don't move."

You nodded at his strict tone and waited for him as he disapeared. Your breath caught in your throat with stress, even though you were reassured to finally have a savior. And what a savior it was, your one and only big brother.

Barely a minute passed before you saw him come back and unravel an emergency ladder down to you. He made sure the ladder was all tight and secure and almost immediately after, Bruno jumped over the railing, to your grand fright, and started climbing down, your heart pounding with worry for him.

He finally arrived down and stepped into the zodiac, joining you, like a glorious hero, saving the day. You barely let him any time to react as you threw yourself into his chest and gripped viciously at the back of his shirt, scrunching it without care, scared to be alone at sea again.

Bruno wanted to scold you and yell at you for recklessly playing around all alone in the docks and ending yourself in such a dire situation. But when he felt you trembling and squeezing him like your life depended on it, which ironically it did, the elder couldn't help but sigh and wrap his long arms around your shoulders, a gesture of comfort.

"... What happened to you?"

"It's-" You choked a sob and Bruno tutted and shushed you softly, patting your head to calm you down, just like your mother used to do when you were a child.

"Shhh, it's okay bambina, I'm here now."

He felt you relax and you sniffled a few times before mumbling into his shirt. "It's Valentino! He tricked me! I hate him! He's such a coglione!"

"Hey! Language." He scolded and pinched your arm, earning a little 'ow' from you, "What would dad think if he heard you say such words? Bite your tongue, young lady."

"S-sorry..." You croaked a little ashamed of your outburst and lifted your head up at your brother. "They always do this to me... Valentino and the others... Why...? They know I can't swim and they throw me into the water all the time..."

Bruno let go of you to cup your face and wipe your tears off. He did not let it show to you but he was infuriated. There was only so much patience an Italian man could have when his family was being targeted. Especially his little sister and the only lasting woman of his life.

"Shh, stop crying now, mia stellina marina. I'll deal with them later, okay? Let's get you home for now."

"They'll see." You sniffled as your breath steadied, calmed by Bruno's soft tone, "When I'll marry a big, tall, goth policeman, he'll beat them up for me and then, they won't act so cocky anymore."

He huffed with amusement at your words before he let you go and laid a gentle hand on your back to usher you towards the ladder.  Bruno, still with a bit of confusion, mumbled to himself without you hearing it.

"... Why goth, though?"

Only now had you noticed the zodiac had stopped drifting since Bruno found you, held onto the much bigger boat by a phantom blue and white arm and a golden zipper that you'd recognize from a mile away.

"Can we... Can we let the zodiac in here?" You asked hesitantly towards your brother who paid no mind to it.

"Who cares? It's not ours."

With thoughts of Valentino's expensive motorboat getting lost in the sea, you slowly took ahold of the ladder's ropes and started climbing, Bruno keeping it steady for you until he was sure you embarked in safely.

He then joined you up and lent you a spare jacket that he thankfully thought of taking with him in the morning, covering you from the cold of your drenched dress against the littoral wind.

"Thank you Bruno..." You softly uttered and hugged his warm jacket closer around you, "I always cause you trouble..."

"Nonsense, piccolina. I could never live knowing my sister is crying, cold and afraid somewhere." He squeezed your shoulder against him as you approached the stall your father and his colleagues were filling with freshly caught fishes. "I'll make sure you're the one that never gets troubled again..."

Fortunately for you, the day ended much more peacefully than it had started and your father was happy and relieved to find you safe and uninjured. He had specifically instructed Bruno to not get involved or make a scene, but of course, his son was a stubborn mediterranean who could not let anything just slide.

It was not the first, not the second, nor even the third time this boy, 'Valentino' and his friends, had taken offense towards you.

So, Bruno would make sure the zodiac Valentino had worked oh-so-hard to afford, part-timing as a waiter, cleaning after people's messes, scrubing disgusting shit-stained lavatories and cutting his hands off of plastic and metal scraps scattered along the beaches for a few cents per day, got thoroughly anihilated to pieces.

"NOOOO!!!! MY ZODIAC !!!! MY 50 000€ BAAABYYYYYY!!! WHYYYYY???!!"

The very next day, as you walked along the docks to bring some fishing materials to your brother, you heard the painful wails of a very familiar boy kneeling down and crying on the woodplanks, his screams echoing against the shore.

"SHUT UP BRAT! You'll think about your money after you pay for the fines I'm about to give you. You think you can get away with polluting the water with your gross ass wreckage?" A tall and burly policeman wearing purple lipstick growled at the kneeling boy, no signs of mercy in his baritone voice. "You'll have a reason to cry when you pay for the oil you spilled in here. You're lucky I'm not throwing your ass in jail right now."

"Officer please-" Valentino pleaded miserably, but the policeman did not hold back on pushing all fives of the different citations he had owned by having pieces of his zodiac scattered all around the precious ressourceful ocean.

"You have two weeks to pay up and clean all that shit." The officer fixed his shades over his nose before turning around to leave. "And expect to receive a salty lawsuit soon. Fucking whiny bitchbaby..."

The policeman left with a determined and impatient step as you witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes, not noticing your brother approaching.

"Oh no... That's horrible..." You gasped with sympathy and worry, "I hope the fishes and corals won't get impacted by the oil spill..."

"Oh don't worry," Bruno chuckled, taking the heavy loads off your hands, "I made sure to zip that out of the water."

You blinked, confused.

"...What?"

"What...?"

That fic was inspired by the very first scene of H2O, I love that show so much, and I can't wait to post my mermaid fics in store!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #sister reader #bucciarati reader #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #platonic #non romantic #family love #bruno bucciarati #bruno bucellati x reader #buccellati #bruno buccellati #AU #fisherman AU #part 5 #jojo part 5 #golden wind #vento aureo

[crackedoutwalnut]

woah can you maybe please write a prequel with wanda x r getting together, and maybe carol and nat meeting r for the first time? (in reference to that amazing last post of yours!!)

A/N: Okay soooo this took a little bit longer than expected lol,,, I tried incorporating Wanda and R meeting but it was nearly 7,000 words before I even got to Carol and Nat meeting R. (Also the writing was horrible) so I scrapped that and started over with just Carol and Nat meeting R.

Warnings: gun wounds and blood.

Word Count: 3k

Read the first one here.

--

"Do we have to tell them? I don't see why we can't just live our entire lives without Natasha and Carol knowing."

Wanda looked over at you with a raised brow, "Y/n, you are overreacting. Natasha and Carol can be a bit protective," you shot her an incredulous look.

"A bit?"

"-But, it isn't like they will kill you. Now stop pacing; you are wearing a track into the carpet." You halted your nervous loop and rubbed a hand over our face. Wanda's roommates and self-proclaimed mother figures were on their way back home from a mission. They had been gone for a few weeks, and the job had gone off without a hitch. In an uncharacteristic display of optimism, your girlfriend suggested that this would be the best time to tell them about your relationship. They were bound to be in a great mood from the mission's success so, the chances of them killing you were slimmer. Hopefully.

Outside of missions and monthly SHIELD meetings, you had little to no interaction with the two superheroes. The only one-on-one conversations you have had with Natasha or Carol have crashed and burned with you stammering and avoiding eye contact until awkwardly parting ways.

Wanda, having read your anxious thoughts, cradled your face in her hands and smiled. "Sweetie, I'm sure they will love you. Now, we have a decent amount of time before they get back..." she trailed off and moved her hands so that they looped around your neck. Your girlfriend tilted her head so that her lips were barely grazing your jawline. "We should use that time productively." Shuddering, you scrambled to straddle her lap with your thighs. Wanda chuckled at your eagerness and captured your lips with her own.

You arched your back and leaned further against her as she traced her hands up and down your back. You let out a small gasp as she settled them against your ass. Then, squeezing playfully, she grinned into the kiss and slipped her tongue past your parted lips. You pulled away and let out a breathy, "Cheater."

Wanda nipped lightly at your lower lip before poking out her lip in a fake pout. "Oh, I know. I'm awful."

You scowled and clenched your thighs and fists, using your leverage to switch your positions; you pinned her against the couch cushions. "And mean," you pecked a kiss against her jaw, "and terrible," a harsh bite to her collarbone, "and a bully." Wanda arched her back into your body as you continued to pepper her neck with slow kisses. You wrapped your arms around her back and moved her legs so that they were locked around your waist. Sitting up, you hastily pinned her against the window sill.

Wanda gasped and clutched at the back of your shirt, "Oh, you are going to be in so much trouble after this."

You lapped and sucked at the pale column of her neck for a moment before parting to peer up at her with a smug grin. "Says who?"

Wanda reached up to trail her thumb over the bottom of your lip before leaning in closer to your ear, "Keep kissing me like that, and I might consider not turning that perky little ass black and blue." You smothered your breathy moan in the crook of her neck. Quickly, you grasped at the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. Wanda followed suit by returning the favor.

You opened your mouth to say something else when both of you froze. The front door had slammed open. Before either of you could react, there was a sound of tramping boots, and suddenly, you were sent flying across the room by a strong hand. Gasping, you slid across the carpet and landed against the opposite wall. Your vision cleared to reveal Black Widow and Captain Marvel standing over you in a fighting position.

Wanda quickly ran over to the two of them and wedged herself between you and your surprise assailants. "Wait! She's not an attacker, I promise!"

Carol loosened lightly. However, she did not drop her fists, "We saw you struggling through the window and assumed there had been an attack."

You could not see your girlfriend's face from your vantage point on the floor; however, you assumed it was glowing red. The witch sheepishly crossed her arms over her bare stomach. She was wearing nothing but black pajama shorts and a matching bra. In any other situation, that would be enough to have you opening your legs then and there. However, after tonight you had no inclination to have sex ever again. "Natasha, Carol, this is my girlfriend, Y/n," she gestured to you as you scrambled to your feet.

Despite being dressed in a sports bra and sweatpants, you felt naked as two pairs of eyes settled on you. "Hi," you squeaked, offering a small wave.

Carol's eyes lit up in recognition, "You're that nervous little hacker Fury hired awhile back."

You felt your cheeks heat as you looked down at the carpet, "That's me."

Natasha's look of shock slowly morphed into a grin that one could only describe as sadistic. "So, if no one was under attack, that means..."

Wanda buried her face in her hands, "Please do not finish that sentence."

The assassin held her hands up in surrender, the smirk never leaving her face. "I didn't say anything. Now let's sit down- with all of our clothes on- and talk about this." You kept your gaze glued to the floor as you snatched your shirt and pulled it back on. You sat down next to Wanda, careful not to let any of your body touch hers. Glancing up, you saw Carol and Natasha peering down at you like a hawk would a field mouse.

"How did you two meet?" Natasha asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Wanda scratched the back of her neck, "We met in our programming class and then again at an on-campus coffee shop."

"And how did you hide this from a former Kree soldier and an assassin?" Carol asked.

"I would usually invite her over when you and Nat were away on missions," the witch explained.

"So this isn't the first time you have attempted to stain our new sofa?" Natasha asked. You suspected the question was rhetorical.

"Wanda, could you go upstairs for a minute? We would like to have a little chat with miss Y/n alone," the assassin requested, a too-sweet smile on her face.

You looked over at Wanda, silently pleading for her not to leave. Despite being telepathic, Wanda ignored your internal screeching and nodded, "I'll be in my room." As you watched her go, you started praying to whatever deity was up in the sky to keep you safe.

Natasha and Carol sat down on either side of you, shark-like grins on their faces. "So, Y/n, what are your plans for dating Wanda?" Carol asked, peering down her nose at you.

"Uh, what do you mean?" You shrunk further into the crack in the cushions. The back of your neck had started becoming slick and hot with nervous sweat as you looked anywhere but at the two women.

"I'm sure you are aware of Wanda's past and how much she has lost. The last thing we would want is for you to... reopen old wounds," Natasha said. Her voice was like sharpened steel as she stared you down.

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked over at her, "I would never hurt her, miss. Wanda is the first real relationship I have ever had, and I have no intentions of screwing that up."

Carol sighed and rested a hand on your shoulder. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden contact. "You seem like a nice kid, Y/n. But, if you ever have sex in our living room again, knowing we'll be coming home soon. It will be the last thing you ever do."

You nodded and looked down at your lap. "Yes, ma'am."

--

From that day on, your interactions with Natasha and Carol were even more painful than before. Because, now the two had taken to "hazing" you, as Wanda described it. They would walk up behind you as silent as a panther ready to attack before barking an order at you. Every time this happened, you would nearly fall out of your seat, completely messing up whatever work you were doing on your computer. Usually, it would be something as simple as getting them a coffee- a task that was typically reserved for the interns. However, you scampered off without complaint and grabbed them what they needed from the breakroom.

"They will settle down, Y/n," Wanda assured. She was sitting on your desk, completely disrupting the research you were currently doing on one of your monitors. Her chunky combat boots were propped up on the armrest of your desk chair as she used her magic on a pen resting across from her.

"Natasha and Carol hate me, Wan," you groaned.

Wanda snickered and flicked the hovering pen at you with a streak of red magic. You huffed and pushed it away. "They don't hate you. If they really did not like you dating me, you would have been fired from SHIELD already. Nat and Carol can be protective, that's all. I think they are actually quite fond of you."

You scoffed, "That might be pushing it."

"I'm serious. Whenever you come up in conversation, they will always refer to you as my 'little hacker' or 'that cute nerd.'" Wanda hopped off your desk and planted a sweet kiss onto your cheek.

"They will grow to accept you, I promise."

--

That acceptance came on a rather stressful mission. It was your first time out in the field, and you were armed with nothing but a handgun and a taser. Your job was to hack into the terrorist organization's database and steal information about the location of their bombs and alien tech. In addition, Natasha, Carol, and Wanda were sent with you to rescue valuable hostages the terrorists were keeping in the basement of their HQ.

Natasha was sent with you for protection, much to Wanda's displeasure. The idea of leaving you alone in a den of wolves made the witch want to wrap you up in a blanket and run out of there. However, Carol needed Wanda's abilities to get to the hostages. So, that is how you found yourself shimmying through a ventilation shaft behind Black Widow. It was unbearably hot in the vents as you tried to maneuver through in sweat-slicked clothes. Your hair was clinging to your face in wet strands as you backed up to allow Natasha to kick open the slatted hatch below you.

She hopped down and looked around the security room before motioning for you to leap down. With far less grace, you jumped down to the tiled floor with a muffled grunt. Then, sliding into a desk chair that sat in front of over twenty different monitors, you set to work. Your fingers flew over the keys as you glared a the screens in front of you.

"How are we doing, Y/n?" Natasha called over her shoulder. Her gun readied in her hands.

"They have really advanced firewalls," you grunted. "But, I think I can figure a way around them."

"I hear footsteps," the assassin called. "Hurry up back there."

Your hands were cramped painfully as you reached into your pocket to grab a flash drive. Shoving it into the USB port, you fired off the last few commands. As a loading screen popped up, the metal door to the security room boomed open. You leaped out of your chair, hand reaching for your gun immediately. Six armed soldiers charged towards you, and the Black Widow with firearms and other weapons raised.

Natasha pivoted on her feet and kicked one of the men's guns from his hands. The rifle skittered across the tile and landed near the desk. Without looking back, Natasha shouted, "Get the flash drive, and go."

You glanced at the half-complete loading screen that was flashing a 5-minute timer. "What about you?" Natasha didn't reply, instead opting to turn her focus back to the man she was currently wrestling to the floor. Two other soldiers surrounded her while the three remaining ran towards you.

Scrambling to remember any combat you had learned in SHIELD training, you slammed your taser against one of their temples. The man convulsed and fell away from you with a cry of agony. Your hands shook violently as you tripped over the desk chair to recover the now complete flash drive. Another scar-faced man grasped at the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. You grunted and squirmed in his grip as the other one raised a gun to your head.

A loud bang sounded, and the gunman was toppling to the ground, blood leaking from his neck. The man holding you fell to the floor with the sound of another gunshot. You stumbled forward, away from the bodies. Grabbing the flash drive, you turned to face Natasha. Your relief was cut short when you saw a man, seemingly playing dead on the ground as he aimed his gun towards the assassin's head.

Crying out, you lunged into action faster than you could think. Your strides cleared the room in two healthy bounds as you tackled the soldier. You managed to get in two good kicks and a headbutt before another sickening bang echoed through the room. It took you a minute to register that the blow did not come from Natasha. You stumbled back and slowly peered down at your stomach. A stain of crimson was now leaking from a hole in your shirt.

Your vision grew bleary, and your ears were stuffed with cotton. Was that red stain new? You thought dimly as your feet fell from under you. You heard another shot, now much fuzzier and far off. Then, before your body could hit the floor, you felt two strong arms scoop you up. No, you decided, that stain had not always been there. It was blood; you were bleeding.

"Oh," you muttered, looking down at your leaking abdomen. "Thass not good," you slurred, peering up at the person carrying you.

Your brain vaguely registered them as Natasha. She looked down at you with an expression you had never quite seen before. "You have to stay awake for me. Can you do that?" Her request was quiet and strangely shaky.

You furrowed your brows; Natasha was never shaky about anything. You didn't like it. "Iss alrigh' Nat, you aren' hurt. What 'swrong?" If the assassin wasn't injured, then why was she crying? The Black Widow never cried.

"I know I'm not hurt, kid. That isn't the problem," she assured you with a humorless chuckle.

You winced as her running jostled your wound, "I think 'm hurt, Widow. Hurt real bad." Tears gathered in your eyes at the agony radiating from the hole in your abdomen.

"You're going to be alright, sweetie. I promise." Natasha held you closer to her chest.

"I'm glad I got to you, though," you continued. "Cause you and Carol already don' like me so, you definitely wouldn' be happy if I failed you."

You felt Natasha's hand go to cradle the back of your head. A gentle kiss was placed on the crown of your head. "We don't hate you, I promise. You're a really sweet kid. I'm really proud that Wanda found you."

Despite the black dots consuming your vision, you felt your chest explode with joy. "'N Carol too?"

Natasha chuckled, "Yeah, and Carol too." Then, as the last of your vision faded, you felt a smile rest on your face.

--

The first thing you registered when you awoke was the sound of beeping. It was annoying as all hell and caused the pain in your skull to worsen. You were warm, almost to the point of discomfort, and your abdomen was radiating a numb tingling. Almost as if it wasn't there at all.

Cracking your eyes open, you took in the dim room around you. It was a bedroom made up of plain oak furniture and eggshell walls. A guest room, maybe? Beside you was an IV that was hooked up to your forearm and a heartrate monitor. On the bedside table was a vase of expensive-looking flowers and an orange pill bottle.

You peeled back the three blankets that had been stacked on top of you to see a thick layer of gauze wrapped around your stomach. You were dressed in a sports bra and Captain America shield boxer shorts. Where was everyone? Who was everyone? Gritting your teeth, you slid out of bed. Nauseating pangs threatened to buckle you as you gripped at the IV stand next to you. You limped towards the door, the metal stand used as a makeshift cane. You scrambled to open the door with clammy hands. Once you stepped into the hallway, you realized where you were—Wanda's house.

"Wan? Are you here?" You called, your voice hoarse. Down the hall, to your right, you heard two doors fly open. Natasha, Carol, and Wanda came rushing out, eyes wild with concern.

"Babe, what the hell are you doing out of bed," your girlfriend asked, hands hovering around you as if you were a house of cards. You attempted to bat her hands away before stumbling slightly at the effort.

Carol rushed to your side and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Shit, kid, take it easy. Don't want to reopen that bullethole, do we?"

"What happened? Did we get the flash drive," you looked between the three of them.

Wanda shook her head and started leading you back to the guest bed. "Of course, that's the first thing you are worried about after nearly dying." She gently settled you back into bed and pulled the covers back over your body. "But, yes, the flash drive and the hostages are safe in Fury's possession, thanks to you."

You scoffed, "I'm just the techy. I didn't really do anything," you shrugged. "Besides, you three were the muscle."

Natasha scoffed and stepped forward, "You saved my life, Y/n."

Picking at a loose thread on the blanket, you shook your head, "I wouldn't go that far. I'm sure you could have handled it."

The assassin shook her head, "I didn't realize that he was still alive until you were on top of him."

Carol smiled and ruffled your hair, "You did good, kid. Thanks for saving my wife." Your answering grin was nearly blinding.

#carolnat #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha x reader #carol danvers x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel fic #mcu #carol danvers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #captain marvel #black widow #prompt fill

[bonny-kookoo]

Mean (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️✴️🔞

💸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💸 Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut

💸 Warnings: bad language aka cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of illegal business, manhandling and not the nice kind, tsundere Jungkook, it’s not like he likes you duh, guns, description of violence, restriction of movement and not in a kinky way, protected sex because dude he’s got one kid okay that’s enough, unconventional romance, choking, near death experience, angst did I mention angst

💸 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize to anyone I might dissapoint with this. I've changed up the story concept numerous times- and the first trailer is in no way a proper teaser anymore, since it has nothing to do with this story anymore. I somehow hope you still enjoy the story however. If not- I hope you'll stick around for future content!

Taglist: @drumsofheaven @yzkyzkuniverse @strwberrybtch @kirbykook @teresaisla @park-hera-gi @justzeera @taestannie @bambuzlee (there were several people I couldn’t tag- I’m sorry about that!) 

Jeon Jungkook was facing his worst enemy.

Now, considering his work and all those rumors going on about him, this could be anything really; from an entire army storming his house, to readying himself for waterboarding. But no, this enemy he was currently standing across from was way more vile and difficult to get under control. The situation was slowly growing desperate on his side- this was a life and death situation.

"Mina, come on now." Jungkook pleaded as the toddler vehemently refused to raise her arms properly so he could slip on her dress for the day. He could understand her, to an extend- he wasn't a morning person either, but he had to overcome this in order to be successful- and she had to as well.

Well, success was not really that important at her age, but getting her to daycare definitely was.

"Mina I have a meeting soon and if you continue to be a brat I can't send you off again properly." He tried, knowing how much she hated him leaving in a rush like usually. He'd promised her the day prior as he'd tucked her into bed that he would, this time, at least stay until her friends had arrived, yet he couldn't have known that this situation would occur the next morning.

Sometimes being a single father was way worse than anything he was facing at his actual job.

"There we go!" He cheered as she finally caved in, pouting a bit before she giggled at the silly face her father was making in order to get her to smile. He hated sending her off in a foul mood, knowing that she could be an absolute devil's child if she felt like it. In a way, she was very similar to him, which was to be expected with her mother not being in the picture. He didn't mind it much, however- a cheating spouse was not really what he wanted by his side, if he was being entirely honest with himself. It was enough already knowing that almost all of his 'friends' and 'business partners' were shameless liars. He didn't need to live and raise a child with one as well.

"Tiger!" The young girl cheerfully exclaimed, as the both made their way into the kitchen. It wasn't just a random comment from her side, because her chubby hand already pointed at the cereal box designed with colorful images on the counter, way too high for her but perfectly reachable for her father as he chuckled, balancing her on his hip as he prepared a small bowl for her.

"No funny business though, young lady." He said, as he sat down with her at the table. "We don't have to hurry, but we can't waste time either." He explained, as he watched her eat her breakfast with a concentrated face. He smiled at the picture, sometimes wishing this would be how his days would always start. Sadly, that wasn't the case- most of the times really, her nanny took her to daycare.

Which was another problem.

Her nanny had recently filed in for her termination, her age getting to her as she finally made the decision to settle down for her last years of life, she'd said. He accepted it without much resistance, having build too much respect for the elderly woman over the course of time by now. It left him with a gaping hole however, one that he knew he needed to fill.

But with who?

He couldn't just hire anybody for Mina at this point in his life. People needed to be fully trustworthy to be even given knowledge of his child at all. Most didn't even know she existed- the public unaware of her relation to him. He kept the facade up that she was merely the child of a close friend, just to keep her out of range of any potential enemies he had gathered over time.

His life really wasn't fit for a child at all, but what was he supposed to do?

"Y/N!" A small voice exclaimed behind you, making you look around from where you were cutting apples as the small child appeared.

"Mina!" You answered just as brightly, picking her up as she giggled excitedly. "Did you have breakfast yet?" You asked, as another daycare worker came inside.

"Yeah!" She said, and you looked at her surprised. "Daddy and I had breakfast!" She explained, as you placed her back down onto the ground. "He'ven brought me here today!" She said, and you hummed affirmatively,

"That sounds awesome!" You said, as she beamed up at you. "Why don't you go sit at the table, we're almost having our morning snack. You think you can eat some apples?" You asked, and she proudly nodded, before zooming off, stumbling a bit as she missed the slight gap of the door.

"He didn't come inside." Jenny said, as she watched the little girl sit down next to a boy her age. "I saw that he was sitting in his car, but she got out herself." She explained further, as you continued cutting the apples and making some cuts to have them resemble a bunny. "I swear to god-" She started, as you cut her off.

"We don't know what his life is like, Jenny." You said, as she huffed. "It's not our kid, it's not our life. She isn't unhappy, she's healthy, she's not mistreated. Case closed." You explained further as you discarded the scraps of apple unneeded in the trash, before rinsing the knife you'd used. "I'm not too happy about it either, but we're not her mother." You said, as you dried your hands.

Jenny sighed. "I know, but like-" She said, walking over to you to help you place the banana slices and grapes as well. "She's such a sweet kid. I don't know, but he seems like such a dick honestly. Like, have you heard his phonecall last week?" You snorted. Everyone did at this point.

Mina had had a minor incident, when she'd stumbled and fell. She'd scraped her knee, cried a little, but after a moment everything had been fine again. He however, had been livid upon finding out his daughter had been hurt, even though the scratches didn't even need a bandaid. Even though he'd only been on the phone with your superior, he'd made such a scene out of it that it became like local news around the daycare.

"I still don't know what the fuck that was about." Jenny exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept an eye on the kids in the main room. "Like, yeah, she fell, but nothing happened." She said, and you agreed.

Shrugging, you grabbed some plates and napkins, and looked at Jenny. "Again." You reminded her. "As harsh as it sounds, you know me." Jenny sighed.

"I know."

You took back everything you had said this morning.

This prick had the audacity to keep you waiting for more than two hours now, without reacting to any amount of phonecalls you'd done by now. Mina was almost asleep on your lap, and you were angry to say the least. This was supposed to be your last day of work for a week, you were supposed to be curled up on your couch in nothing but underwear and fluffy socks, hidden by a blanket and eating icecream while watching netflix. You were definitely not supposed to sit here at your daycare until even the janitor was about to go home. "Fuck it." You mumble, carefully balancing the young girl on your hip as you grab your bag and keys.

You wave the janitor and cleaning staff goodbye on their way out, and take out your phone for a bus or subway that could drive close to where Mina's address is- but you notice there is nothing in her jacket written that you could use as one. You instead simply call the number written down for emergencies, and wait as it rings.

once.

twice.

"Hello?"

You are a bit taken aback by the voice on the other line, masculine, but clearly not as old as you'd thought he'd sound. "Uh, yeah, this is Mina's daycare, you mind picking her up these days, or not?" You casually say, Mina moving around a bit as to bring her thumb close to her lips. You internally coo at her.

"Shit! Fuck- I, where are you?" He asks, and you furrow your brows. Where the hell does he think you are, or does he seriously not know where his daughters daycare is? Wait, is that even her father?

"I- listen, am I even talking to her father or who is this?" You ask, and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. This was a bad idea, what if this isnt her dad at all? You could loose your job for this!

"Yeah, yes. Listen I'm gonna send someone to pick her up alright? Should be there in an hour or so." He says as if frustrated, and you scoff, making him question you on the other line as if he was just struck by thunder. "Excuse me?" He says, voice low, but you're not intimitated.

"First of all, I'm not convinced. Second of all, and pardon my french, but are you nuts?! It's already way too late for her to be up, and I've finished my shift hours ago!" You complain, and he clears his throat over the line, clearly unhappy about your lack of understanding.

"Jeon Mina has a small beauty mark underneath her lower lip, she hates strawberries for some reason, and her biggest secret is that she is actually scared of unicorns. There, happy?" He grits out, and you chew on your lip. He was good. "Second of all, Miss." He makes sure to pronounce every word. "You're getting paid to look after my kid. If that's all you want I'm paying you extra for the inconvenience-" Oh boy, there we go.

"If I cared about your stupid money I would've called authorities hours ago, S.I.R." You start, careful to tone your voice down as to not wake her up. "And you know what, thats a great Idea actually! Let me just-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a sound that sounds awfully like a door closing.

"Fuck you, I'm there in 20." He says.

Jeon Jungkook was not too fond of woman.

That much was clear ever since he'd been cheated on and left with a kid, but it had always been like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of them, or didn't like them, it was more like, during his life, woman had been the reason for heartbreak and bad news all along. His mother had been an alcoholic, his dad desperately trying to get her back on track. His sister had been involved into shady business early on, a wild child that would do anything to get on peoples nerves. His aunt, which only ever visited to gain money. Women were bad news.

So his own surprise had been very prominent when he spotted you on the bench with his kid in your arms,her chubby arms clinging onto you like a koala. You seemed to be reading something on your phone, careful not to point the device too close to Mina so she wouldn't be disturbed. You were pretty, he had to admit that, even from far away- and you seemed like a confident person, from what he'd heard over the phone. You suddenly noticed him as he drove a bit closer, car tires crunching the gravel and snow underneath while his headlights shut off, to not blind you both. He stepped out, as you woke Mina up to announce to her that her father had finally arrived.

"Daddy!" She screached sleepily, running towards him with stumbling legs. He picked her up with a smile before he turned around, having every intention to buckle her up in his backseat as you came closer.

"Huh. Mind telling me why I shouldn't inform authorities about this?" You asked, and he huffed out a breath with a roll of his eyes, pulling out his wallet. You simply stood there, arms crossed, not at all fazed by the amount of money he held in front of you- you simply raised your eyebrow. "I mean, if money could talk I'd ask your bills, sure. But that right there isn't an answer." You replied, and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. Why were you being so difficult.

"Okay, how much?" He said, and you suddenly moved, shifted, as if absolutely offended by his offer.

"Do I look like a streetworker to you sir?" You said, and he closed his eyes for a moment, until another car seemed to pull up.

"You're getting picked up." He says, ready to step into his car as you look at him with confusion. "You don't know them?" He asks, and you shake your head, having every intention to check as he notices something familiar peeking out of one of the car windows. As if on autopilot, he rips his passenger side open, pushes you in, and runs to get inside the drivers seat.

There are shots fired, Mina is holding her hands over her ears as she simply stares at you, who is absolutely shell-shocked.

What the hell just happened?

So yeah, that's how you got here-

In a room that looked awfully like the interrogation rooms in your late night netflix crime shows. There was someone sitting in front of you- Mina's father, watching you, like you were going to do anything. But you were as quiet as a mouse, not saying anything.

"So you didn't know them? At all?" He questioned for the second time in the past ten minutes, and you shook your head. "Hard to believe. Then again, why would you ever tell me that your Dad's brother was sentenced to two years for escorting drugs- only getting two years because he snitched." He said, and your eyes widened.

"Okay what the hell-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Oh, I hit a nerve-" But you weren't having it.

"Oh an I'm gonna hit your pretty nose if you don't stop cutting me off!" You said, making him smirk. For some reason, this was quite entertaining to him- the only woman he ever had in here were so keen on keeping up that shy and innocent facade, that you were a breath of fresh air. "Listen, I don't know why you decided to dig up things that happened when I was literally a TODDLER- or how you even got that information - I swear to god I will really break your nose!" You ended as he had tried to speak again, making him chuckle.

If you weren't being held captive after getting your night ruined you might as well would've thought that was pretty hot.

"I was five years old- I had nothing to do with it, and my dad had no contact whatsoever with his brother after what had happened." You explained. "If you can find that, you can also find that I haven't had contact with my family in years either." You said, leaning back, as he spoke.

"I did. Which is quite confusing to me." He said.

You suddenly went stone cold on him. "It really isnt that deep." You said.

"Were you avoiding them?" He asked. "Because of what happened? Or because your dad got involved into something?"

"Because they're dead." You said.

Well. This was something that made him actually stop and think for a second. He did dig into that nasty part of your family, but he never looked further- their death was something he had overlooked. And by your reaction as you said it, the way you said it, he knew that you weren't lying. "Alright." He said. "But you do realize that I can't just let you go like that, right?" He said.

"Figured." You said. "So, should I stand facing against the wall or with my back against it so you can aim better?" You said, and he took a deep breath. Technically, yes, that would be a logical outcome.

"Neither." He said, and you raised your eyebrow. "I have an offering." He said, and your entire body went stiff, arms crossing in front of your chest. A pure sign of whatever he was going to say, your first reaction would be no. "I need a nanny for Mina." He said, and your lips parted, confusion clear on your face.

He almost thought it was kind of cute.

"You what?" You said.

"I need a nanny for Mina." He repeated. "It's a win-win situation for both of us if you think about it. You get to- in a way- keep your job and a bonus in terms of payment, and I will have someone to take care of Mina. And I also don't have to put a bullet into your pretty little head." He said, leaning forward with the last words.

"This isn't really a question, isn't it?" You said, and he laughed.

"You're smart- I like you."

„But that’s not how daddy does it..“ she wonders, as you tie her shoes for her, before looking up into her eyes. She really does resemble her father. Well, a more innocent version, that is.

„Well everyone does it differently.“ you say, well aware that there were numerous ways to tie a simple bow. „Your daddy probably has learned it from someone who does it like he does. I learned it from my dad.“ you explained as you went to pick up her backpack, carrying it for her as she took your hand.

„yours looks prettier tho!“ she exclaimed happily, a skip in her step as she kept looking at her shoes with a smile. You grinned, a sense of pride filling you. „Daddy‘s always looks crooked on one side-„ she said, before a voice broke through the sweet moment.

„You hurt me Princess. You always said they look nice.“ he hummed from his spot in the doorway, leaned on the frame, looking at you with something you could only describe as unsatisfied, while shooting his daughter a smile.

What the hell have you done wrong now?

This had been something going on for months now. Ever since you started working for him as a nanny, Mina had been nothing but a ray of sunshine- but he, he was not even a raincloud. He was the angry grinch miltiplied by a hundred, ready to piss everyone off twenty-five-eight. Somehow everything you did wasn't up to his standards; the way you cooked for Mina, the way you dressed her, hell, even right now with the way you tied a fucking bow.

You really hoped next time he washed his hands, his sleeves would roll down.

"There's an emergency gun underneath the back-" He started as Mina was out of listening-reach.

"I won't use it." You said.

Jungkook had tried to get you trained at least in the basics of guns- but you practically had an allergy to it, refusing to so much as touch one. He didn't quite know what your problem was, but after a while, he had given up on it- simply sending one of his guards with you whenever he could. By now, you were an easy target as well if found alone, so you had joined him in his place, occupying one of the larger guest rooms. He had said that it was to keep an eye on you, but internally, he simply didn't want you to get hurt.

And yeah, at first that was because he didn't trust you, at all- but by now, somehow, you had sneaked your way into his heart, in a way. Even though he himself would always grumpily comment on it, he loved how you made Mina smile and the entire mansion light up. Things felt a little brighter, a little less tense, and a little less lonely with you around. It felt as if you were an actual family.

And that scared the shit out of him, because in no way was he going to fall for his daughters nanny.

And, after all; you hated his guts.

If Jungkook knew the situation you and Mina had gotten yourselves into, you don't know if he would be proud of her or kill you.

Turns out that the guard Jungkook had sent you out with wasn't actually following his orders at all, but words from a different person entirely- you imagined they were highly likely the one's out to shoot you back when you first met the tall mafia boss and father. Now, the only thing they definitely did not get right however, was that you were Mina's mother- and someone Jungkook valued enough to give up his safety. This was true for Mina; the young child was his everything, and he'd cut off his limbs just to know her safe and sound- but you? That was just absolutely stupid. Sure, you've been living together for quite some time now, and he stopped trying to mentally push you down the stairs every morning as well. But there was nothing more than a mild case of friend- and partnership. You weren't being emo; Jungkook had, after all, said it again and again that he had crossed out the dating game. He's got enough trouble with Mina and you, he had said.

Well, seemed like one of those issues would solve itself.

"Again, what're you gonna do?" You say, as Mina looks at you from out of the vents above you had helped her into seconds ago.

"Crawl where the nice air is, call daddy- and don't look back." She repeats proudly, but you can see it clearly that she's just as scared as you are.

"Exactly, good job princess." You praise, and she nods with a pout. "Once daddy gets you, you'll be safe." You promise, and she wants to complain- but you don't let her, closing the vent again as you hear her shuffling away. This was fine. Mina would be safe, Jungkook would have one person less to worry about- he could move away, bring her to a different part of the country where no one knew her, and she could simply go to school next year and forget all of this ever happened.

You were just a bit sad that you'd never get to see it.

Of course you weren't her mother- but it was hard not to let her inside your heart, with the way she was. The charms her dad didn't have, she got them times ten. She was just so sweet, and you were around her all the time, it was hard not to somehow grow fond of her. You just hoped she'd be alright.

"Where's the kid, whore?!" A guard yelled after noticing you were the only one left in the room. You simply smiled, not answering, before he grabbed your neck, pulling you up as much as he could as he fumed. "Save that stupid grin for your son of a bitch at home." He barks, and you desperately try to breathe- unsuccessfully so, until he forcefully pushes you back down, the back of your head hiding the concrete floor with a sickening crack. You squealed out in pain, holding onto the spot for dear life as if that would somehow help it- but it didn't. "I knew sluts like you have to be tied up. You're all just trouble." He says, pulling you by your legs as another set of people come in, binding your legs and hands. You can already feel your fingers getting cold from how tight your wrists are tied- but you black out from the kick to your stomach before you can quite dwell on it.

"Fuck!" He yells, before he gets up, hands in his hair to somehow help himself not punch the laptop on his table. He's seen it, seen it all- from the moments you would shield Mina like a fearless lioness, the second you had lifted her up into the vents even though he knew your shoulder had to be in horrible pain, to the very moment you had faced the consequences of your actions. He hated that he had to wait, that he had to simply sit here in his office like a coward just to watch you take the beatings.

Because here was the thing with Jungkook; even though he liked to portray himself as someone who always takes the upper hand in things and troubles, when it came to his own personal life far away from his criminal business he ran, he couldn't seem to ever make up his mind. It was like a repeat of his past love affair- but instead of his ex-wife cheating and leaving him with a child, there was you, in some way fighting like a true lionness in order to keep said child safe and sound, even though you didn't even had to. Technically, this would've been the perfect opportunity for you to finally get your freedom back in a way. Because without Mina, there was no use for you being in his grasp anymore. Without her, there was no agreement between the two of you.

And yet there you were. And yet again, he simply watched, simply did nothing.

The entire mansion was already on high alert by now; his most trusted friends Seokjin and Yoongi already out to your location- he could wait. He could wait. He could wait.

Everything would somehow turn out to be just fine by the end of this day. He would successfully take his daughter into his arms, Yoongi and Seokjin would get you out of there, and after a good nights sleep and some first aid for you, things would just return to normal.

But what was normal at this point?

He didn't want things to continue like they did currently. He wanted change, for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you about his inner thoughts, about his desires concerning you and his future. He wanted to tell you that he didn't just want you to be at his home and with him and his daughter just because of some stupid agreement. He didn't want you to stay with him because he forced you to.

His phone began to chime, your face greeting him as the caller ID as he accepts it. "Daddy-" His heart sinks down to the floor as he hears Mina sniffle on the other side of the line. He has to wait, he thinks, repeats like a mantra. He has to somehow calm her down, tell her everything's alright- "They're hurting mommy!" Mina wails, and somehow, those words make him snap.

Fuck waiting.

In a way, Mina was a smart kid. She had been nothing but understanding when Jungkook and her mother had broken up- divorced, and fought until she eventually left for good. She had been a little sad for a long time, thinking it had somehow been her fault; but he had assured her, and later on, explained, that Mommy simply didn't love Daddy anymore. In Daycare, she was one of the most well behaved kids ever encountered- careful, and calm. Of course she got excited and happy and sometimes made a mess; but she also was very careful who she interacted with, what kinds of friends she made, and how much she talked about home. She never complained, never threw public tantrums.

Jungkook truly was lucky- that the only thing left of his shattered marriage had been her.

He never had relationships after that- never dated, never truly searched for someone. No one, in his eyes, was worth the risk- and even after meeting you, that was his opinion. But as cliche as it sounded, you were quite different from anyone he'd ever met before.

You spoke your mind; always saying what bothered you, never beating around the bush. Yet, you weren't being a bitch about things. No, you actually could be pretty cute if you wanted to be- be it the moments he had caught you and Mina sneak a taste of her birthday cake in the middle of the night, or the one time he had been sick.

You had been such an angel to him.

Helping him towards the bathroom, never even scrunching your nose in distaste whenever he had to throw up. You simply rubbed his back, helping him towards the sink to rinse, just to lead him back into his bedroom. You had aired the room out, made the bed, made sure that he was staying hydrated and at least tried to eat every day- all without any complains.

Maybe that was the moment his perspective of you shifted into dangerous territory.

He had somehow become hyperaware of the things you did. How well you got along with Mina, how easy going you were becoming with him- how confident yet nurturing and sweet you were, gently scolding him sometimes to not overwork himself. You always made sure his kid felt happy and was healthy, never so much as whined about your past friendships lost; you had simply accepted the new situation.

In a way, you were what he silently dreamed of at night.

Because as much as he loved the sight of you holding Mina whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, he somehow also craved to be held throughout the night by your arms. Just like he held his daughter in that moment after she had climbed out of the vent into his arms. He could make out some of her words as he simply let himself feel her tiny body in his arms for a moment. Just to make sure she was really there, really alright, really out of harms way. She kept on crying out for you, for him to help you, to save you-

So it was only natural for him to jump out of his car and run after Seokjin, Yoongi, and their squad, as they entered the building.

Sometimes at night, when you got aware of all the different sounds of the room, you heard the blood rush inside your brain.

Just like now; but now, it was so loud that you could barely hear anything else. Things seemed hazy, fuzzy, your ears stuffed with cotton wool drowning out any sounds might happening around you. Your eyes stayed closed, light way too bright for your raging headache- and the stale metal taste on your tongue wasn't helping either. Your hands had started to tingle long ago, and your knees were hurting from being in the same position for this long. But the moment someone touched you next, it wasn't forceful. It was so gentle, and almost- scared?

You couldn't hear, but you could feel. How the rope was cut, blood rushing painfully into your hands and legs again, pins and needles making them hypersensitive as you were suddenly held- moved, carried?

It smelled like home, that was something your dizzy mind was able to properly make out. It smelled like Jungkooks mansion, and a bit like his office- a faint vanilla hitting your senses, making you faintly smile as your hand reached out, unknowingly grabbing his shirt, holding the fabric as tight as you could as you moaned out in pain when he placed you down again, warmth surrounding you.

Maybe you were dying?

Or maybe not.

Because after some hazy and confusing dreams, you slowly came back to your senses. Eyes opening slowly, there it was; the curtains you knew so well, the balcony opened, air crisp and fresh around you as the door opened. You wanted to move your head, but the fear of triggering another headache was too big.

"Y/N?" Jungkooks voice asked, warm, and almost hesitant. You hummed, and he snapped his head around, noticing that yes- after days of sleeping and slipping in and out of consciousness you were actually awake again. He walked into your field of vision, looking so casual; his white button up undone at the first two buttons, sleeves rolled up as he sat down close to you, palm on the blanket covering you as he-

smiled?

"W-" You had to cough a bit before clearing your throat. "Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?" You said, and he chuckled, sighing in relief- you had, after all, not lost your charm.

"I think past Jungkook had a moment of self-reflection." He said, watching you as his hand placed itself onto yours, warmth spreading over your skin. "I'm glad you're okay." He admitted. "And thank you. For keeping.. Mina safe." He ended, and you smiled.

"That's literally my job." You said, and he got more serious.

"No, and you know what I mean." His voice was deep and rough, yet held no authority like usual. "You had chances to tell them who you were. That you had no connection to me other than through her; yet you didn't. And we both know why." He said, and you looked at him.

"There are more reasons than just one." You said, eyes drifting to his now empty ring finger on the hand resting on his thigh.

"Does it matter which one I mean?" He asked, and you wanted to scoff.

"It does to me." You said, and he shifted closer after a second, properly holding your hand now as he looked at yours- still a little scratched, but nothing that wouldn't heal.

"You did it because that's the reason you live here." He said. "You also did it because you adore her just as much as I do. And you.." He began, but grew unsure.

"And I?" You smiled, and he looked at you with his typical seriousness.

"And you somehow got stuck in an emotional mess." He explained. "You somehow, deep down, wanted it to be true." His thumb moved over the back of your hand as he spoke. "You wished that.. maybe there was more to it than just, partnership." He said, and you still smiled gently.

"Did I now?" You teased, but to your surprise, he was still looking straight at you.

"I know I did." He humms out. "I still do."

"You're stupid." You said, and he laughed bitterly, taking your words the wrong way as he slipped his out of yours.

"I know." He said, getting up to leave but stopped as you spoke.

"Good." You said, chuckling before coughing. "What, no kiss for me after all I've been through?" You giggled as his wide eyes stared at you. "Rude." You said, and he suddenly realized that no- you weren't rejecting him. You were accepting.

You felt the same.

Noticing his own awkwardness, he leaned over, hands supporting his body as he leaned down, properly placing his lips onto yours. You had never imagined what kissing Jungkook would feel like, but you certainly would've never guessed how gentle and absolutely loving it would be. One of his hands moved towards your cheek, holding it, as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Mommy!" Came Mina's excited voice, cries instantly noticable as she jumped onto the bed, burying her head into your chest as you held her, a few tears in your eyes from her jumping.

"Mina baby, be careful okay?" He said. But your words were the reason that he ended up tearing up, at the end.

"Mommy's still hurting baby." You said. "But she'll get better soon."

Not even during the first few magical months of being together with his past ex, had it ever felt like this.

He was euphoric almost; with the way you felt, moved, breathed. It all felt like so much to him, made him feel so.. He couldn't explain it. He had his hands on your hips, fingers careful not to press too hard, but having enough force to move you back and forth over his lap- his length moving in and out of your heat, making you whine, as he watched your breasts in front of him. You fit so perfectly like this, felt so amazing, managed to make him feel needy instead of the other way around.

He turned you over slipping out of you sloppily as he moved positions, now above you as he spread your legs, entering you again easily. He pulled you by your thighs, holding you in place as he began to thrust again, your eyes closing with every movement of his hips.

He loved the sight of it.

Deep down he wanted to take the condom off; he wanted to fill you up, cum inside over and over and over until your cunt would overflow. Not only just to claim you in a weird animalistic sense, but to also make his family complete. He had cut his ties to his illegal activities by now, had settled down with you- and he knew, there was no other person he'd ever have a child with again than with you. "I want to cum inside." He said breathlessly, making you whine in return. "Hm, you'd like that?" He asked teasingly, his thrusts gaining more strength as if to underline his statement. "Stuff you full of my cum, make you leak it and mess up the sheets.." He continues, hand reaching between the two of you to find your clit. "just to make love to you over and over again. I wanna make you cry." He gritted out, suddenly moving you around face down. He pulled up your lower body, entering you again, gliding in easily with the amount of slick you were leaking. "And you'd take it wouldn't you?" He asks, making you nod and groan out as he grows more desperate, faster, harder- throwing you off the edge but never stopping. "You're gonna take it until I cum, don't you dare move away from me." He scolds, holding you tightly, making you gasp out in overstimulation as he continues on, chasing his own high.

He reaches it with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside as he holds you, peppering kisses onto your spine. "I love you, hm.." He whispers out. "So good, so pretty.. all mine.." He huffs, simply falling onto the mattress with you in his arms, cock still buried inside you.

There was a moment of silence, until he spoke again. "I really do mean it though." He said earning only a tired humm from you. He simply chuckled at that, holding you close as he decided to maybe bring that topic up when the timing was a bit better.

For once, he felt like a normal person. Right next to you, in your arms, as you turned around to pull him close, burying your face into his chest.

Right where he belonged.

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