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whereonceiwasfire · 2 years

Note

Drabble prompt: Danny wakes up one day and everything is normal. Until someone asks what’s up with his teeth

Oh haha, this was a fun one! (I took a few liberties with it, I hope that's okay). Thanks for the request :)

Danny is fine. Danny is ok. Sure, maybe he just about died in his parents' ghost portal last night, but so far there don’t seem to be any adverse effects to getting nuked like a freezer-burnt Hot Pocket, which. Yay for him. And, besides, nobody was around, nobody actually knows that he accidentally turned the portal on with himself inside of it, so...no harm no foul.

That’s how that works, right?

Still, he’s jumpy, uncomfortable at school this morning. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting—Sam to turn around in her desk, her arm thrown over the back of her chair, her features turned on a knowing smile as she asks him, “so, Danny. Have any near-death experiences over the weekend?”

Well. On second thought, that wouldn’t be the weirdest question she’s ever posed to him out of the blue. Maybe he’s right to be concerned.

“Hey, Fenton.”

The whispered words come with a gentle tap on his shoulder, and Danny lets out a startled shout, slapping his hands over his mouth as half the class turns to look at him with lifted brows and bemused frowns. Lancer gives him about fifteen seconds of attention before giving his patented I-should-have-been-an-account sigh, and turning back to the board to continue writing his list of hyperbole examples.

It’s only then Danny twists a hesitant glance over his shoulder where the petition came from. Valerie is pursing her lips together as if to smother her laughter.

“Did you, ah, need something?” he asks through a cough, scrubbing the back of his neck.

“I was just going to ask to borrow a pencil. Though you’re obviously going through it, so don’t worry about it,” she says, tucking a dark ringlet back into her headband and scribbling circles in the corner of her notebook, trying to get her pen to do more than leave empty gouges against the page.

“No, that’s okay, I can lend you a pencil!” he basically shouts the words, fumbling with his pencil case and spilling his crap all over the floor with an enormous clatter.

The class just ignores him this time.

With an awkward laugh, he stoops out of his seat to grab an extra pencil off the grimy linoleum—gives a broken smile, caught somewhere between a nervous grin and a pained grimace, as he hands it back to Val.

“What is up with your teeth, Fenton?” she asks, a horrified crease at the corner of her eyes.

“What?”

She arches a brow, wordlessly slides an orange compact across her desk to him. He accepts it, fumbling with the catch a second before it pops open, revealing the mirror inside. He turns back around in his seat, ducks his head, shields his face with a hand, and bares his teeth in the glass.

What the heck? He has fangs. Since when did he have fangs?

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap. Could this be related to the portal thing?

He gives a near hysteric burble of laughter as he slaps the compact shut and rapidly twists around to thrust the mirror back at Valerie.

“Oh that,” he says, though the way his words pitch up in the middle makes it sound less casual and dismissive than he was hoping. He has no idea how he’s going to dig himself out of this, no idea how he’s supposed to evade suspicion, no idea what’s even going on with him. He just starts talking, hoping something helpful somehow finds its way out of his mouth. “My teeth have always been like that. I don’t even really know what you’re talking about. Fangs? Who said fangs? That’s ridiculous. They’re for a costume thing. I sharpened them. I’m a vampire buff? I mean. Teeth are so weird anyway, amiright? They’re bones outside your body? Like. Ew. Did you know that mosquitos have 47 teeth? Now that’s weird. Okay, you can keep the pencil, bye.”

He turns abruptly forward in his seat, spine straight, chin high, gaze lazor focused on the board—lets out a breath and pretends to jot a few notes like nothing is even remotely wrong.

Phew. That was close.

Good thing he totally nailed it.

#drabble requests #phanfic #no one knows AU sort of #danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie grey #mr lancer #im a classic overwriter i apologize #curious-crossover-questions #thanks for the request!

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green-spear-of-causality · 4 years

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For the OTP prompts thing, 6 Proto-Cu and Robin again? Sorry for asking again, I just really enjoy your writing.

6. "Here, take my blanket/jacket." "I'm not cold." *Shivering*

Ah, thank you!! I realized that the last prompt you asked me barely hinted at the ship at all, which I'm going to make up for here! I should really change up the POV, though...if this pairing is requested again it'll be from Robin's POV!

(Lowkey read the 6 as a 4 and started laughing at the mental image of Robin hissing at Proto Cú like a cat)

----

Proto Cú loved winter.

The smell of freshly fallen snow, the blanket of white across the landscape, the tiny fluffy crystals floating down towards the ground from the heavens...

He loved it all.

His other counterparts, unfortunately, shared other opinions. Cascú griped about the heat being turned up in Chaldea, which usually upset his concentration and raised his already abnormal body temperature. The layers of clothing he had on certainly weren't helping any. The other Lancer complained about the cold forcing them and their Master off of the battlefield, which meant less fights for Lancer and more time to do anything but fight. And Alter...

Proto was pretty sure that Alter hibernated.

So when Master suggested that they go see the auroras at the North Pole the night of Christmas Eve, Proto Cú was ecstatic. He was so ecstatic that he forgot to bring any extra layers with him, opting for a thin black turtleneck and relying on his own abnormal body temperature to keep him warm. Emiya, with his parental instinct, had managed to give him a pair of dark blue earmuffs to protect his ears from the biting winds before they left.

And protect they did. Proto Cú wrapped his arms around himself, glancing at the other Servants who gathered for the sights. He could see Diarmuid and Jeanne leaning against his Alter counterpart, talking quietly with smiles that refused to leave their faces. To his left was Arthur, awkwardly wedged between Gilgamesh and Ozymandias, the other kings' laughter trapping him in place.

Proto Cú winced. I kinda feel bad for the guy.

"Oi, there you ar- What are you wearing?!"

Proto Cú regretfully let go of his hold on himself to face Robin Hood, who stared incredulously at him as he made his way over.

He grinned, waving him over. Ever since the pranking incident gone wrong a couple weeks back, Robin seemed to hang out with him more often and even gave him a portion of his food for breakfast.

Sometimes, too, they'd visit Robin's forest to talk for hours on end. Proto Cú liked those moments the best; there, Robin was more open, more honest with both himself and others. Those moments always left Proto Cú wanting more, though for what he didn't know.

Robin's voice brought him back to the present. "Where's your coat?"

Proto Cú's grin turned sheepish. "I...may have left it behind."

Robin's eyes glinted, scrutinizing his face. Proto Cú's cheeks started to warm under the intense examination. Wait, what? "You got too worked up about the event, didn't you?"

Proto Cú's sudden interest in the snow made him huff in exasperation. The Lancer spared a glance his way, and was surprised to find something fond in the way he looked at him. What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking like this?

He glanced away, missing the frown that flashed across Robin's face. Before either of them could break the awkward silence, Da Vinci stepped up onto a soap box and spread their arms out wide.

"Hey, everybody! Thanks for coming out tonight! The auroras are supposed to appear any minute now, so please turn your attention upwards!"

Dozens of eyes turned towards the sky...and Proto Cú's breath was blown away.

A myriad of colors painted the sky, flowing and billowing on an unseen wind. The snow that fell into their faces was fluffy but light, allowing them to get a good look at the sight before them.

An uncontrollable grin spread across Proto Cú's face. In the background, he can hear other Servants cheering and the younger Servants playing in the snow.

Proto Cú himself laughed, the sound drowned out by the cacophony of voices that rose up in wonder. This...is what I'm fighting for. Screw Solomon's Grand Order; we don't need it.

His happy mood was interrupted by a sneeze. It was so sudden that it took himself by surprise, and it was only a few seconds afterwards that he felt how cold it was.

He shivered, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm them up. He was starting to regret not picking a heftier sweater to wear...

Robin sighed next to him, the closeness of the sound making him jump. "You can be an idiot, sometimes. Here; take my cloak."

Proto Cú's eyes narrowed, his head turning to look at him. "What - "

He stopped when Robin moved to place himself in front of him. He was already unclasping his hood, hands quickly yet gently reclasping it around Proto Cú.

Robin refused to look at him. "Just shut up and let me work."

After a few moments Robin took a step back, satisfied with his handiwork, and Proto Cú's words died in his throat.

It was...warm. It was certainly warmer than he thought it'd be. The cloak quickly warmed him up, and he buried his nose into the fabric with a contented sigh. The fact that it smelled like pine trees, like Robin made the temporary gift all the better.

He looked up, beaming. "Hey, thanks Robin!"

Robin made a strangled noise, turning away. It was then that Proto Cú noticed how red his ears were, not to mention the dark green sweater that looked more like a coat.

"...Don't sweat it. Bathory gave me this to wear, so that was just getting in the way."

"Hey, don't say it like it's something repulsive!" Bathory seemed to appear out of thin air, making them jump.

A knowing smile stretched across her face, as teasing as it was merciless. "Ah, so this is why you ran off."

Robin gritted his teeth, turning away from her disdainfully. "As if. I'll take anything to get away from your energy."

Proto Cú blinked. He wasn't blind; Bathory's teasing, Robin's curt sentences, the stiffness in his movements. A grin threatened to break out on his face as he hugged Robin's arm, pulling him away from Bathory.

"Yup, he's mine, so go find someone else!"

Bathory stood, dumbfounded, until a laugh tore its way out of her body. "Ah, so that's it. My bad, I didn't know he was taken!"

Robin gaped.

Bathory waved them off, still laughing. "Have fun, you two!"

Proto Cú passed by his older Lancer counterpart, who looked ready to tease him when Emiya wrapped a black scarf around his neck. The Archer did it with such care that the other Lancer's words died on his tongue instantly, eyes wide and a blush spreading on his face like wildfire.

Proto Cú grinned. "Having fun with your date, older me?"

"Bite me." Fsn Cú grumbled, even as Emiya turned away with his ears burning. Proto Cú felt rather than saw Robin chuckling beside him, although it came out choppy.

Once they were a considerable distance away, Proto Cú let go. He scratched his cheek, realizing that in their escape they became separated from the partying group.

What the hell do I say now?

"...Cú."

That got his attention. Robin usually only ever called him Proto, although now that he heard his name fall from his lips...

He wanted to hear it again.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the sudden, sappy thoughts, he faced Robin. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Did you mean it?"

Ah, that. Proto rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling bashful. "Uh...yeah. You sought me out tonight, so I got dibs on you. Although, seeing your reaction was worth it in its own right..."

Robin fell silent, instead opting to watch the skies above. They stood side-by-side for about a minute or so before the May King spoke up again.

"I need to tell you something."

The seriousness in his voice made Proto Cú pause. He glanced at Robin, who stubbornly kept his gaze upwards.

"Listen...I - "

"I know."

Robin's eyes whipped towards him, mouth hanging open. "You - What...?"

Proto Cú smiled, light laughter leaving him. "I'm no dummy. I'm the Hound of Culann; I can tell when someone's pining."

Robin fell silent beside him. Proto Cú continued to talk, oblivious to the way Robin's frame shook. "Though, you hid it well. I was surprised myself; to think that the one person I was courting would end up developing feelings in tur- mmph!"

Lips, soft and gentle and warm, covered his own. Hands gripped his shoulders, preventing him from leaving. Eventually, Proto Cú melted into the kiss, hand reaching up to tilt Robin's head and get a better angle.

This was...sweet. It felt nice; it felt right. Proto Cú may have only kissed a few people in life, but by far the one he now shared with Robin was his favorite.

It was over all too soon, in his opinion. Robin pulled away first, looking smug. "If that's the only way to shut you up when you get going, then I'm gonna have a hell of a time doing this."

Proto Cú stared, dazed. Robin's eyes widened before a blush of his own erupted, causing him to hide his face in his sweater.

"Wh-What the hell are you doing, giving someone that look? I swear, you're gonna be the end of me..."

Proto Cú snapped out of it, instead chuckling as he carefully pried Robin's hands away from his face. Robin refused to look up, suddenly finding interest in the snow on the ground.

"You think I'm gonna let you go after a stunt like that?" He whispered as he drew Robin in for another kiss.

Indeed, winter was his favorite season.

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bibbumblebee · 5 years

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Ectober19: In Which Sam Falls Apart at a Halloween Party

My first ever fic for anything before. Not perfect, but it was a lot of fun to write! Also it’s 22 minutes late shhh don’t tell anybody.

Prompt: Fangs/Shatter

Sam’s fangs were really starting to bother her.

They poked at the inside of her bottom lip, and if she wasn’t careful, she found herself sticking them into her tongue or the soft gums behind her bottom row of teeth. She wondered how on earth some of the ghosts Danny fought back to the Ghost Zone could stand having such deadly teeth. All the time. Her fake ones were about to drive her crazy.

Just a few more hours, Manson, she told herself. She took a drink of punch, wishing it was spiked, to soothe the sores forming along her lip and the bristly, nervous anger that had lodged itself in the back of her throat. Gothika, Vampire Queen, doesn’t take her fangs out. Not even for boring parties.

She had come with Tucker and Danny, had actually come at their insistence. Tucker begged her the moment he found an invitation to Paulina’s party in his locker. She’d declined and declined, in varying shades of no, until Danny asked her one day after class. He’d held his invitation in his hands like a secret the two of them could share and looked at her shyly.

“Be more fun with you there,” he said.

Those eyes. Bluer than springtime. That little half-smile that, had she not known him since grade school, she wouldn’t have noticed. Would have thought was sadness. The slight quiver in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he should be saying anything. Afraid he might mess it up. Afraid she might say no. But how could she say no to that? To him?

She realized now she probably should have.

***

Danny had decided to dress up as Phantom for Halloween, saying that it was the only time during the year he could be himself and no one would be suspicious of it. “People love Phantom,” he told her when he announced his plan. “Maybe I can use tonight to get people to like Fenton, too.”

“Dude,” Tucker said, scrolling on his PDA for lists of popular Halloween costume ideas, “Phantom’s public enemy number one. They don’t love you.”

“Yeah, well, they love the idea of me.”

Sam knew how much it hurt Danny that the world feared Phantom as much as they hated Fenton. She’d been so certain that using his ghostly half to save the city from other ghosts would work. Would make him a hero. Would make him realize people loved him. She never suspected Amity Park would turn on him. And judging by how Danny’s face fell every time he saw Phantom on the news, every time Tucker reminded him that Amity Park wanted him dead for real, every time his parents invented another doomsday device, Sam got the feeling that Danny never suspected the hate, either.

***

She sipped some more punch, eyeing her black lipstick stain on the cup. She’d have to reapply soon. Maybe go and find Tucker, trying to pick up girls with his sexy professor costume. Sam tried to tell him that sexy professor was not the costume he thought it was, but his heart was set. He’d come in tight pants that highlighted his (admittedly) nice calves and a shirt he only buttoned up halfway.

Just as Sam figured they would, most of the popular kids assumed he was trying to be a sexy Mr. Lancer. Sam would have felt bad if she didn’t think Tucker needed to learn his lesson.

Still. She could use a dance.

Sam set down her empty cup and adjusted her black gloves where they had slid down her arms. She was going to go and find Tucker when she saw a flash of green from across the courtyard.

Paulina’s Most Perfect Halloween Party was held at the country club, like all her other parties, and the outdoor garden and courtyard had been decorated in purple streamers and smiling Jack-o’lanterns. Candles with artificial flames had been rigged on wires, suspended above their heads. It cast everything into a warm haze, everyone’s costumes cloaked and flickering between shadow and light.

Everyone’s except Danny’s.

He lit up like a star, a star with its own gravity, pulling everyone at the party to him. It was that natural magnetism Sam noticed he had while he was Phantom. Smiling, making jokes, puffing his chest out boldly. Confident. In control. With that smile, and that mop of silvery white hair, it wasn’t difficult to see why people were drawn to him. Why they feared him.

“Oooh, Ghost Boy,” said Paulina. She grabbed his arm. “How do you make your eyes light up like that?”

“Ghost Boy?” Dash said. Sam noticed him lurking behind the two of them, his face painted green like Frakenstein’s monster. Big, hulking, mindless mistake, Sam thought. Fitting.

“If that’s really the Ghost Boy,” said Kwan, appearing next to Dash as if summoned, “then we gotta report him.”

“It- it’s not Ghost Boy,” Danny said, and Sam heard the panic in his voice. “It’s just me. Danny Fenton.”

“Yeah right,” Kwan said. “Don’t lie.”

“Why would Ghost Boy lie about being Fentwerp?” Dash’s voice carried across the courtyard as if he was standing next to Sam at the punch bowl, making conversation. “He wouldn’t stoop that low.”

“Yeah,” Paulina said. Sam noticed her back away from Danny. She tried not to notice Danny’s face as it fell. “Ghost Boy wouldn’t lie about being a loser. No offense.”

“Yeah…” Danny said. “I guess not.”

“But still…” Paulina said, “You do have a pretty sweet costume, Danny. How does it glow like that?”

“My parents’ ghost hunting tech,” Danny said. His voice, which had lost a significant portion of its confidence, strengthened a little.

He and Tucker had rehearsed answers on the walk from Sam’s house. She’d tried to pretend to be focused on gluing her fangs over her real canines, but really she was trying not to turn around and stick the fake teeth through Tucker’s cheek. Asking questions like If Paulina wants to dance with you, what do you say? and If she wants you to turn invisible, will you? and Yo, man, I never thought. Can you turn just clothes invisible?

Sam stopped listening after that.

***

She only came tonight because Danny wanted her to. “Be more fun with you there,” he’d told her. But he hadn’t been with her the entire evening. She’d stood, her back to the garden wall, following his spectral glow around the party, trying not to think about the way he smiled when someone said his name. The way he fidgeted with his hands, more than likely trying to fight the urge to show off too much.

“You can’t shoot ectoblasts, you know,” Tucker told him. “Unless you lie and say you rigged one of your parents’ guns into your suit.”

They were in Sam’s room, waiting on her to finish applying her makeup. She’d decided on a darker, more dramatic look than the one she usually wore, replacing her purple eyeshadow for gray, opting for fake eyelashes over her natural.

Danny hovered behind her, watching her glue her eyelashes on. She felt his t-shirt brush against her shoulder. Caught the smell of laundry detergent and winter air and electricity—something he’d had since the accident. A permanent, static chill where there should have been body heat. Even while alive, he carried the chill of the dead.

“Why are you covering up your lashes?” he asked, watching her in the mirror.

She turned and batted them at him, laughing at the expression on his face. “For dramatic effect.”

“I’d say it worked,” Tucker said, sitting on Sam’s bed to tie his sexy loafers. “Earth to Danny? You in there?”

A second too late, Danny turned away, and Sam noticed the flush along his pale cheeks.

***

“Remember,” Tucker said. “You’re not Danny Phantom tonight. You’re Danny Fenton dressed up as Danny Phantom.”

“I know.” Danny watched Tucker unbutton and rebutton his dress shirt, making what he probably thought were sexy faces in the mirror. “I want them to like me. They already like Phantom.”

“And possibly want to kill him.”

Danny blanched. “Yeah. That too.”

After Sam finished her makeup, she encouraged Danny to sit down so she could cover his face with some powder, too.

Danny was sporting a black eye, only just starting to fade, from his most recent run-in with Dash’s fists. He’d been in worse shape from other fights, but Sam didn’t want Danny to be embarrassed by the bruise. She knew, too, that he carried marks far worse than the black eye, but it was the least she could do for the party.

Though neither of them would say so, Sam had seen the scars. She hadn’t meant to. It had been an accident, walking into his room without knocking. He’d been quick, but she’d seen his side where Valerie shot him. The long burned scar along his ribs. She couldn’t imagine it didn’t hurt, even now nearly a month later. She’d seen the smaller scars along his back, random collections from his fights over the last year and a half. The wings of a purpling bruise along his shoulders—more than likely from his fight with Skulker that ended with Danny’s back buried in ten inches of brick.

And it was all her fault. Because she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t say No, don’t go into the portal. She couldn’t say No, it’s okay. You don’t have to prove anything to me. No, she’d taken one look at those big blue eyes, that mess of black hair, the suit he’d slipped on, highlighting his narrow waist and lean arms. The curve of his back. Of course she wouldn’t tell him no.

And he’d died because of it.

He died a little more every day because of it.

It had taken Sam a few moments of convincing, but she managed to seat Danny at her vanity and powder his face to cover the worst of the bruising.

He fluttered his eyes shut so she didn’t get any powder stuck in them, and she occupied herself with blending over the purple and black blossom around his eye. She tried not to think of his hair, tickling her cheek, or of his cold breath on her hand. Just a brush and powder and a fresh bruise that, if she pressed too quickly, caused him to wince with phantom pain.

***

She didn’t notice she’d been lingering next to the punch table, her cup empty in her hand, her eyes focused on a spot just next to the DJ’s table on the dance floor.

“Sam?”

She looked up to see Danny standing next to her, his eyes glowing like will-o-the-wisps waiting to lure her away. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

His eyes searched her face. Sam wondered what he found there. Anger? Sadness? That oh-so carefully practiced apathy?

“Paulina and the others are actually talking to me. Me,” he said. “Not Phantom. Fenton.”

Sam tried to appear happy at the news, but she’d known that would be what happened. She chewed her bottom lip, no longer caring about the sharp fangs still glued in her mouth.

“I mean, all they want to talk about is my parents’ gear and my costume, but still.” When he stepped closer, a chill fell over Sam and she shivered. It was as if she had decided to step into a bucket of ice water. “They actually seem interested.”

The way his voice swooped up with hope. It was enough to make Sam regret coming, regret hearing that joy in Danny’s voice and know it wasn’t because of her. Sure, she was happy for him. Being accepted is all he ever wanted, Phantom and Fenton. He was obsessed with saving people, protecting people. Being loved.

She wondered if he knew.

“I know,” he said.

Sam froze. About how she felt? She wasn’t sure she knew how she felt. She just knew that guilt that followed her wherever she went, that feeling of walking on ice every time she felt Danny near her. The way the chill traveled up her spine and froze the bones under her skin. And when he touched her...a wayward brush, an intentional hold on her wrist, a thoughtless clasp of her hand...it shattered her. Broke her into a million pieces inside. Thin ice under a heavy weight—gone.

And yet, in amongst those pieces lay a stronger, scarier feeling. The feeling of the life she’d nearly destroyed, the life fighting through the death, the patient blue of his eyes. The slight pout lingering behind every smile. His spidery fingers. His birdlike bone structure.

She had been the death of him.

She wished he’d return the favor.

“I know they’re only going to like me for tonight.”

Oh.

Right. Of course. The popular kids. The costumes. The party.

“Well you know you’ve always got me,” she said. After a moment, she added, “And Tuck.”

There it was. That sad, shy smile. “I know.”

“I know you do.”

“The fangs,” he said, glancing toward her mouth. “When did you put those in?”

“Put them in? I’ve always had them.” She tried to lift her voice, dangle it on a thread of humor. She failed.

“I mean,” Danny said, “I guess Gothika, Vampire Queen, wouldn’t be a very good vampire without fangs.”

“You remember Gothika?” She hadn’t talked about her in weeks, and she never believed Danny had really been listening to her.

“I remember,” he said. He looked up at the popular kids, who were clustered on the dance floor, not dancing, just talking. Taking selfies. Checking their friends’ profiles. Even Tucker was out there, Sam noticed, trying to talk to a very harassed-looking Valerie.

“I invited you tonight,” he said.

“Yeah?” Sam knew she was the only person at Casper High to not get an invite from Paulina. It stopped bothering her well over a year ago.

Danny turned and looked at her mouth again. “Stop chewing on your lips,” he said. “You’re going to put a hole through them.”

She tucked her fangs inside her mouth, licking her teeth along them, tasting the sour glue holding them in place. “Nervous habit.”

They shared a silence for a moment, Danny’s eyes flicking away from her face, looking up to the candles above their heads. Sam watched the light bounce around his features, casting his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks into shadow. Be more fun with you there.

She forced her eyes away before he caught her staring.

“I’d love to dance,” he said, answering her unasked question. He turned and gave her his sad half-smile.

“With me?”

“With you.”

He took her hand, and she shattered at the touch.

#ectober #ectober2019 #ectober19 #my first fic #danny fenton #danny phantom #tucker foley #sam manson #halloween #fangs #shatter #writing #i tried #sorry it’s late #sorry it’s long #i got distracted #ectoberweek19 #ectoberweek

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

Text

Keepsakes [Whumptober 2019 - Day 15: Scars]

Summary: Serena asks questions about Shun's scars, bringing them on the path of memories.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V (post-canon, implied alternate ending) Ship: Established Serena/Shun

Wordcount: 1.171 words

Content Warnings: Brief mentions of surgeries. Some references to a near-death experience. Consensual love.

Notes: It's whump if I mention how the scars happened, right? Because otherwise this is all fluff lol Nano and I got the same idea when I mentioned to her the next Whumptober prompts on my list being, back then, "Tear-Stained" and "Scars" : Peregrine stuff. We need more of it. I'll provide, I don't care how or when, I'll provide. I didn't intend this oneshot to have such a sensual tone, but I'm not against it, I've barely written any intimacy lately. The most sensual thing I've written aside from that was, like, a hug in BWI maybe? (spoils spoils) This is meant to be post-canon where the dimensions have fused together, but the Bracelet Girls and Yu Boys are free and not stuck in one mind because that was bogus/20. Bracelet Girls rights. (this story isn't the right place to complain about Arc-V disappointing us). And of course these two are a little older than they are in canon, they're young people who know what they're doing and can consent. I absolutely self-indulgently slipped a reference to a former work of mine, "Birds of a Feather, Fall Together". I've also included a modified reference to an older Arc-V fic I absolutely love, "placeholders" by harezora (who's most likely never gonna read these notes, but in case they do: I love this story so much it was great and better than canon holy shit).

Event hosted by @whumptober2019

AO3 version available here.

------

The stare she was giving his chest was a bit too intense to his liking, as if her eyes were deciphering some ancient writing on a wall, scrolling from top to bottom, gliding from the left to the right. For a first night sharing a bed in peaceful condition with so little clothing on either of them (it had taken ages for him to even get comfortable with the idea, let alone putting it into place), it was a weird thing for her to do.

Not like he was any better, considering his own eyes couldn’t seem to unglue themselves from the bits of exposed skin left alone by her pyjamas, trailing from her slender shoulders to her hands, focusing on the few imperfections left on her skin by time and experiences, the easily seen and the barely visible, the memories’ physical form laid before him.

“What are you staring at like that?” he still asked, right as he himself didn’t look quite exactly into her gaze.

“Your scars”, she bluntly replied.

He found himself puffing.

“They’re terrible, right?”

“They’re scars, really,” she continued, crossing her legs on the bed. “You’ve got a lot of them, but they’re a part of yourself. We wouldn’t be the exact same without them.”

That was a bit too deep for his late-night brain, truth be told.

“I suppose so.”

She must have been right, he silently figured, considering the number of scars he could see on her body.

Serena’s eyes didn’t deter. In fact, her gaze only grew in strength as it continued deciphering the foreign inscriptions in front of her eyes. Her hand twitched on her tight, fingers in a dire want to move, as if she was preventing them from taking off somewhere else.

“I see that you too have a lot of-”

“Can I ask you about them?”

The question surprised him beyond his mind.

“…Come again?”

“Can I ask you about your scars?”

His eyes were furiously blinking.

“Sure, I guess…?”

What was so interesting about these? They were just ugly, abhorrent traces left behind by wounds of all sorts. And yet, and yet, he found himself with her fingers dancing around his chest, her touch almost sending shivers down his spine (it was closer to a fluttering feel he wasn’t very familiar with, at least not yet), her eyes shining with the light of the bedside lamp.

He didn’t mind, frankly. It had a weird sense of comfort to have her explore him like this, curiosity filling her every move. It made it far less awkward for him to do the same, his own hands brushing against her shoulders, questions coming to his mind. How had she gotten herself these blemishes on her shoulder blades, as light as they were, near a crescent-shaped birthmark right over her breast? Where did the little scars on her arms came from?

Serena was right: they wouldn’t be the same without their scars. This much he could only realize, now that he was actually discovering someone else’s body for the first time in his life.

Her fingertip stopped on the freshest scar on his skin, laying right under his ribcage.

“This one is from what I think, right?”

“Our first meeting,” he commented. “Well, the aftermath of it, at least.”

“I remember you trying to escape the hospital right before your surgery. Reiji had to send Tsukikage to stun you before you did because Yuya didn’t want to hurt you.”

Her laugh made it worth the embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just… remember your reaction to it. It wasn’t funny at the time, but now that I think about it… It’s kind of funny.”

Her eyebrows then slightly frowned, making her smile bittersweet.

“…we didn’t start on the best first impressions, did we? You know, being on the opposite sides of a war, my people wanting to slaughter yours and the opposite way around, the Lancers…”

“I wouldn’t have said that. You were the best first impression I had in that dimension.”

“Was it because I looked like Ruri?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled as her finger left its spot.

“I’m just glad we’re at peace now.”

“Same here.”

Silence fell between them, albeit only for a short-lived moment, as her finger was still dancing around, eyes following it, before it found itself another spot to ask about.

“And this one?”

Her touch landed on his abdomen, on an old scar he had almost forgotten about from how used he was to seeing it every morning, every evening, every day, every night. Her eyes were sharp, to notice such a faded-out line.

“An old surgery from when I was a kid. I tried ignoring it, but it wasn’t an option. The best thing I remember about it was Ruri sitting by the bed asking me if it hurt.”

“And, did it hurt?”

“It was just sore, really.”

“What surgery was it?”

“Appendicitis, I think.”

“Ah… Never got it myself. Sounds rough.”

“Don’t,” he laughed, looking back at his younger self lying frustrated in a hospital bed. “It was a terrible time to be alive.”

It wasn’t funny, but she giggled back anyway.

“I’m sure it was.”

Her irises continued their dance, accompanied by her lips shaped in a soft smile. This was a face he could have never resisted, the one who had won him over when he was refusing to show more skin than his arms to her. She’d be the death of him, now that the people trying to kill his entire kind were gone and on the path of redemption – but what a desirable demise she’d be.

“Oh, and this one?”

Her finger gently pressed against a deeper, much more visible scar on his left flank. That one displeased him much more than he’d have wished to admit.

“I got stabbed by an Obelisk Force jackass back in Xyz, before Yuto and I came to Standard, right in front of Ruri too. If it wasn’t for her, I’d have bled out there.”

“That’s horrible…”

“Wasn’t a cosy time to be alive either. Just shows you how strong my sister actually is. Heh, I was blind back there.”

Serena was quiet, her five fingers now flat on his abdomen.

“Hey, don’t make this face. I’m still here, alive and kicking, and so are you. That’s what matters.”

This managed to bring a small smirk back to her lips.

“You’re right.”

She eventually sighed, cupping his face with her hands, her slender fingers brushing through his hair.

“I’ll have to tell you about mine someday. I don’t have as many, or with as much history, but…”

“That’s wrong. I’m sure they have more meaning that you’re trying to imply.”

“You think?”

“Try me.”

They exchanged mischievous looks, smiles and gazes swapped.

“For another day, then. We got to make the fun last.”

Peace meant they finally had time before them to enjoy life and all the things it brought with it, good and bad.

“Of course,” he said, before they closed the space between their lips.

#arc-v #peregrineshipping #serena (arc v)#shun kurosaki #whumptober2019 #no.15 #scars #post-canon #au: canon divergence #otp: selene ourania

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seasaltmemories · 6 years

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Myths was adorable! Kiel can’t help but worry about Frey, especially when her duties frequently take her away from home, so he seeks guidance in the stories he grew up with, specifically from the wives waiting for their husbands, and channels that worry into making sure the house is nice and toasty for her return. And where they’re together, they cuddle up real close and he entertains her by retelling those very same tales, living for that dreamy look she gets on her face, as if she’s in a trace, as she listens. And it gets even better when, out of the blue, Frey reveals that it’s not the stories themselves that have her so completely enthralled, it’s being in Kiel’s presence. Which floors Kiel because he’s been so down on himself, thinking his days too dull to be worthwhile to share and his stories unimpressive since they’ve been told and read countless times. He’s so flustered too, that Frey momentarily thinks she’s insulted him but no, he’s just happy that she feels the same way. Since for him, it’s also not about the stories themselves, it’s about the person he’s reading them to and watching her reactions. Just lovely work.

Your latest Caeldori/Rhajat piece was so sweet! I don’t know these characters but there’s something so endearing about the good-natured teasing and snarking between the two of them. For instance, as overwhelmed as Caeldori is by all the wedding preparations and the fussing over her clothes and hair, all it takes to cheer her up (even just a wee bit) is imagining Rhajat’s reaction to all this wedding hullabaloo and how positively grumpy she must be. And when it hits her that this is actually happening (all it takes is the one word) and she’s marrying into royalty, seeing Rhajat at the altar and that she was right about her being in a sour mood helps put her at ease again. And her presence has a similar effect on Rhajat, in that the moment she looks directly at Caeldori her mood brightens considerably. Then they discretely link pinkies through nearly the whole ceremony and it’s the cutest thing! Only uncrossing their fingers once they finally get to the kiss and they hold nothing back. And when they break apart, the teasing comes back full force with Rhajat practically daring Caeldori to kiss her again, if she’s really wanted to kiss her for as long as she says she has. It’s just such a good romantic piece!

Can I just say that I love your take on classicalshipping, especially from Reiji’s end, where he’s just so flummoxed that this fiery and friendly girl is being so nice to him and he’s not sure what to do or how to respond to let her know that he likes her a whole lot?? This is exemplified perfectly in your latest chassicalshipping piece, which made my heart practically combust from the unadulterated cuteness, it was that spectacular! But first things first, poor Reiji, the boy can’t relax even though he recognizes that he needs to if he’s to be ready to lead the lancers and save the four dimensions. Then he spots Yuzu, and she’s not so much a diversion (okay, maybe a diversion from relaxing) as a way to possibly mine information about the You Show school duelists. Unfortunately, Yuzu catches him looking at her (mortifying!) and she’s understandably peeved at him, thinking that he’s here on behalf of LDS to harass and challenge her school again. Reiji has no idea how to deal, so he does the unexpected and offers to buy her an ice-cream (probably the first spontaneous thing he’s done in a while as well as the closest he’s come to hanging out with someone his own age). But once they’re eating he doesn’t know what to say, so he just flat-out asks her why she seems so mad at him. He clears up the misunderstanding but still has to explain why he approached her. Yuzu even remarks that he doesn’t seem the type to have, “the time to pick up random girls” (which is a hilarious line in and of itself but made more so from Reiji’s reaction). So he tells her truthfully that he’s interested in their school’s strategies for the tournament but Yuzu immediately shuts down that line of inquiry, forcing him to switch gears and say he’s mainly interested in how she’s preparing for the upcoming championship, which surprises her. Reiji learns that Yuzu holds herself to a very high standard and is greatly impressed by her drive to better herself and not grow complacent or overconfident (and also files away the info she lets slips about Yuya and Sora cause he’s still Reiji). He then attempts to compliment her on the improvement she’s already made (even though it sounds like an insult at first) and hints that there might be a place for her at LDS. Showing that he must think pretty highly of her if he believes she would be more of an asset than a liability in the field. But once again, she shuts him down, declaring she’d never leave You Show, but this time she follows it up with a friendly overture, telling him he can address her by her first name. Reiji’s flattered but, at the same, overwhelmed, so much so that he has to leave the park asap. Well, he can try but he can’t outrun his feelings! But seriously, not only is this whole piece absolutely precious it also reads just like a missing scene from the show. It’s just, so good. Thanks for sharing it!

With all the serious writing I do with school, these three fluff pieces were fun alternatives

Kiel is the youngest of the bachelors of rf4 and baby-faced yet has a pretty sweet romance with Frey (though I completely get why someone would be squicked by it, I was like 14 when I played so it didn’t bother me) so I like focusing on kinda this anxiety about being old/good enough, especially since his older sister is a tough knight whil he’s a non-action guy, so it was fun playing around with a gender reverse of the usual patient wife waiting for her hero husband to return

the Caeldori/Rhajat piece was also fun bc the former can get high-strung while the latter can be moody and anti-social, overall I just wanted to show these nerds crazy for each other and in love

Rose’s greek god au hit me hard so I knew I needed more classical stat, what kinda developed on its own was this enemies to lovers thing since they are both more or less running rival schools, (now I need a slow burn au of that lol) while neither of them are ready to become bosom buddies over one shared meal, it was more finally seeing the other as a person rather than an extension of some concept, still since the prompt was “I found you before everything changed” there’s a bittersweet tinge to their parting

#seasalt talks #submission #cute things #also both these reviews perked me up after a shitty week

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