#ok i made this on a whim i hope you like this one too

[captainfern]

hiii, how are you?? :)

so, I saw that your request is open and I would like to place an order if possible and especially if you like the idea!!

price x femreader, they met because of the friendship between reader and gaz/laswell (or whatever character you prefer!!!) and you know they fall in love but eventually john ends things because he thinks he's putting reader in danger. anyway they end up meeting again at a party/bar/club or some IDK social event and then they end up coming back!!! fluffy, smut and a little bit of angst.

I ended up thinking about it while listening to love song and california by lana del rey + attention by charlie puth lol lolol

ps: I just want to say that I love your writing and your fanfics!! you are one of my favorite call of duty blogs!!!!!!! 💗

ps²: sorry if what i wrote was confusing to read, english it's not my first language

I hope your week is great and full of good things!!! bye bye 💞💗💘💓💕💖💝

Come As You Are

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Come As You Are” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - your captain ends your relationship after thinking he’s putting you in danger. a year later, you meet again, and he shows you how much he regrets his original decision lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.4k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, some sub!price, praise, oral [f!receiving], cum eating??? ugh idk, implied age gap, strong language, i tried to make it a bit fluffy but my whore brain blinds me 😔🤚, a smidge of angst but not really cause i just can’t write angst 😭

✿ thank you you’re too sweet !! i love the idea <3 i’ve altered it a bit for the smut storyline but i hope it’s ok !!

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Your relationship with Captain John Price had been nothing short of tumultuous.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the entirety of your relationship— both platonic and romantic— was much different to others your age.

You had met Price on a whim— Gaz, your best friend since childhood, introduced you to the idea of joining the military. You did, and he eventually got you the opportunity of a life time, working in an actual task force.

You had been ecstatic. You were a good shot, a machine with a gun, and you knew your skills were unmatched. You had walked into your first day on the task force thinking you were more than just a rookie.

One meeting with Captain Price changed that.

He made sure you knew you had to work for it. You had to work as a part of the team, pull your weight, and ensure that everyone else got to the same point as you did. He put you through your paces, he pushed you to your limits, and eventually, it all came to a head.

You fired up at him. Why was he picking on you? Why was he singling you out? You were just as capable as Ghost and Soap and Gaz. Why did he insist on making your rookie year a living hell?

His answer caught you by surprise— a deep grunt, a jerk of his hand on your shirt, and the slamming of his mouth to yours.

And that’s how it started.

Much similar to how it ended.

[Flashback]:

“I can’t keep putting you in danger like this.” Price said, as you lay on a hospital stretcher, blood marring your face and a deep wound to your stomach, wrapped in gauze.

“It’s not your fault, captain.” You breathed, the lights of the hospital room giving you a headache.

He grimaced. “It’s is my fault. And… the thought of losing you… bloody hell, sarge, it’s tearing me apart.”

You blinked at him, raising a weak hand to place on his, rubbing his knuckles. “You’re not going to lose me, Price.”

He nodded slowly, eyes glistening. “Yeah… I won’t lose you, love. Because you’re being discharged.”

You were confused. “From the hospital?”

Price cleared his throat, emotion choking him. “No, love. From the task force.”

You stared at him, thousands of different emotions brewing inside you, bubbling in the cauldron of your mind. The final product was tears, unexpectedly, streaming down your face. He looked at you, flooded with guilt, shifting his hand so he could grip yours tight.

“Price…”

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. “I’ve lost too many people in this profession. I can’t lose you too.”

“That’s not your choice to make.” Your voice broke.

Price just nodded. “It is. Captain’s orders.”

Then, he kissed you— gentle, slow, an apology. Your face was wet with tears, shining in his facial hair. He put every bit of emotion he had into that kiss, before he stood up, squeezed your hand one last time, and walked out of the room.

•°•

A year later, you sat at the bar of the most popular night club in the area. The music pulsed around you, bright lights flashing through the darkness, painting the walls neon.

After leaving the military— a gunshot scar on your stomach as a souvenir— you pursued what you always wanted to do. Morphing back into civilian life after spending a couple of years in the military was difficult, but you made it work.

You especially made it work when you finally had the freedom to go out and get absolutely wasted.

But tonight was different.

You sat at the bar, swirling your drink in its glass, pouting into space. Today was the one year anniversary of you being discharged. Despite having knocked back several drinks, your appetite for alcohol had soured, and you suddenly just wanted to go home.

You exited the club and were met by the crisp night air. Shivering, you wrapped your arms around you and prepared to call yourself a taxi.

“All alone?” A random man approached you, around your age, and smiled.

How the literal fuck did he want you to reply to that question? Does it look like you’re standing with a bunch of people?

“Oh, uh, no. I’m just waiting for my… boyfriend.” You stammered, hugging your arms around you tighter as you tried to pull out your phone with shaking hands.

“Well, you want some company while you wait?” The man asked, and you shook your head, trying to be as polite as possible.

“No thank you, I’m fine,” you were trying to think of something to say to get him to leave. “My, uh, my boyfriend doesn’t like me talking to other guys.”

The man hummed, getting closer to you. “Sounds like a prick, your boyfriend. How about I buy you a drink then?”

Was this guy dumb?

“No, thank you.” You said, taking a large step away from him.

He went to follow, but suddenly, he was yanked backwards by the collar of his shirt, and he made a distressed sound from the back of his throat as he stumbled.

You did poorly to hide your shock as Price, in all his glory, stood on the pavement, grabbing the random man by the scruff of his neck.

“She said no, did she not?” Price growled. “So fuck off.”

The man scrambled to regain his footing, before he was hurrying away. You took a deep breath, body suddenly hot as Price approached you, a solemn look on his face.

“Love…”

“Look, thanks for that, but I should really get going—” You rambled, turning away, but he caught your wrist.

He pulled you closer to him, the warmth of his body comforting in the midnight chill. His eyes scanned your face, soft. He brought his free hand up to the side of your head, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

“What are you doing here, Price?” You forced yourself to ask, voice quiet.

He didn’t reply straight away. He just cradled your face after bringing his other hand up from your wrist, cupping your other cheek. He stared at you, like he was memorising your features, eyes suddenly glossy and a small smile quirking at the corners of his mouth.

“Just out for a drink.” Price answered, and you could smell the faint aroma of tobacco, whiskey and mint on him. “You?”

“Same.” You replied, relishing in his large hands around your face.

He thumbed your cheekbones, sighing softly to himself. “I’ve… I’ve missed you, love.”

You were trying not to cry now.

“Think about you every day,” Price breathed. “I… I made a mistake. I’m so sorry I let you go.”

You felt paralysed by his words, pinned beneath his gaze. Your body was hot and cold at the same time, your hands clammy but goosebumps still rippled along your bare arms.

“I’m such an idiot. I should never… I should never have let you go the way I did,” Price said. “I was just so scared of losing you that, in reality, I did lose you, didn’t I?”

You nodded slowly, tears stinging in your eyes. “Yeah…”

Price held your face tighter, but still gently. “Jesus, love, I’m so sorry. Will you let me make it up to you? I… I have so much to say. So much to apologise for.”

You felt yourself nod again. “Let’s go back to mine.”

•°•

“I’m sorry, love—”

When you went back to your place, you had every intention of talking it through with Price. After all, it had been a year since you had last spoken to each other.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I missed you so much—”

You had a feeling deep in your stomach that you’d forgive him, that you’d give in to his charm. So you accepted his apology. Of course you did. You loved him.

“Missed you so much— should never have made you go— I’m so sorry—”

You loved Captain John Price.

“Ah, fuck, love, missed this, missed you—”

Which is why the two of you were fucking on your couch.

“Missed this pretty cunt— ah, fuck.” He gripped your hips as you rode him, moving back and forth, up and down on his lap.

He was panting and whining beneath you, your hands on his shoulders, keeping you grounded. He watched the way you sucked him in; where his cock slipped in and out of your dripping heat. Each bounce you made on his cock, each squeeze of your gummy walls, made him spew out even more rambles, throwing his head back and huffing loudly into your living room.

“So good, s’good as I remember,” he groaned as you ground yourself against him. “Missed this wet cunt. Missed you, love.”

A broken record, he was. But it was playing the most beautiful of symphonies.

“I know, Price, I know,” you said. “Missed… ha… missed you too.”

He looked at you, and that’s when you noticed his eyes were brimming with tears. He moved his hands from your hips to your waist, gripping you comfortingly as you worked your cunt around his cock, moving in tandem with the small thrusts of his hips.

You felt your heart melt. Leaning in, you sealed his mouth in a warm kiss. He moaned into it, tongue licking against yours, chest flushed to your bare tits. The coarse hair made you squirm in his lap.

“So good, love, so good, fucking hell,” Price mumbled as you pulled out of the kiss. He ducked his head to suck at your neck, and you could feel a slightly cold wetness. Tears? “Love you so much, my love.”

You were relishing in the way he whined into your neck, holding you as if you’d fly away at any moment. His thrusts were becoming more desperate, you noticed, and your thighs began to ache in your attempts to keep up.

“I love you too.” You whispered, legs shaking.

Usually, it’d be you reaching your peak first. But, just as that burning sensation began to build in your lower tummy, Price was letting out a guttural moan from the crook of your neck.

He was thrusting into you in mismatched rhythm, teeth skimming against the soft skin of your neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— fuck, I can’t—” Price moaned, shooting his load inside you.

You hummed a moan, mouth parting as his motions stilled. You stopped your movements as well, cunt aching with the need for release. You were so close—

Price held your flushed body to him, whimpering softly into the curve of your neck. His semi-hard cock plugged his seed into the depths of your cunt, which throbbed around him in tandem with your racing heart. You could feel slight droplets of his cum and your arousal begin to seep out of you.

“‘M sorry,” he whispered, sucking at your neck. “Couldn’t wait. Felt so good ‘round me. So wet and tight.”

Your stomach fluttered, body tight and tingling and your core was almost aching. You let out a shaky exhale. Price could feel the way you were twitching around his cock, and he suddenly felt even more guilty.

But an idea came to mind.

Carefully— with whatever remaining strength he had after coming the hardest he had in over a year— he lifted you off of his cock. He moved you from his lap so that you were laying on your back across the couch.

You stared at him as he massaged his hands up your bare legs. His eyes trailed along your dripping cunt, watching his cum leak out. He gripped his cock, stroking it a few times, before groaning and releasing it. He instead grabbed hold of your thighs as he positioned himself along the couch also.

He placed your thighs on either side of his head, the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs tickled by his beard. You writhed against the couch as his warm breath fanned against your dripping core.

“Price?” You voiced.

“Yeah, love?”

“What’re you doing?”

His hands tightened around the fat of your thighs. He grunted, “Apologising.”

Then, his mouth came into contact with your heat. You jerked, eyes rolling in your skull, hips pushing against his face. He probed your abused hole with his tongue; thick and warm, making you moan loudly.

The sounds were obscene. He was literally lapping his own cum out of your cunt, mixed with your arousal; a lustrous elixir that continued to pool down the slope of your arse, smearing across his face.

His tongue moved in and out of you. With each movement, he was grunting and releasing guttural sounds from the back of his throat. He massaged your thighs, kneading the soft flesh with large, calloused fingers.

Price’s nose nudged your clit repeatedly; the enflamed nerves hyper-sensitive. You moaned his name, shooting a hand down to clamp into his hair. You tugged, pulling his face further into your cunt, and he hummed, satisfied.

He traced his tongue up and down your folds, circling around your clit before applying suction and drawing it into his mouth. You wanted to scream as the pressure built, before he was dragging his mouth back around your hole, stuffing his tongue back inside with an embarrassing squelch.

“Price, oh my god, Price,” you groaned, grinding yourself onto his face. “So close, ‘m so close.”

Price spurred you on, redoubling his movements, fucking his tongue into you faster. Your stomach was growing tight with pleasure, your legs shaking against his head, breath coming in pants.

“Hngh,,, oh, fuck, Price—!” You moaned as your orgasm slammed into you.

You felt yourself gush into Price’s mouth as he continued his ministrations, tongue stroking you through your release. His happily lapped up every last milky droplet of you release, humming contentedly against you.

You whined, tugging his head away from your core, urging him to kiss you. He complied, his face wet, the taste of you on his lips.

“Missed you so much, my love,” he whispered, kissing you again. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I promise.”

You giggled. “Well, I am going to have to go to the bathroom.”

“Guess you’ll have an audience.” Price said jokingly, and you laughed again.

“I didn’t take you for a voyeur, Price,” you winked. “I also didn’t think you had a piss kink. Damn. The more you know.”

Price rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start, love.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lower face tacky and still rather wet. But you didn’t care.

“I love you, Captain.”

“I love you more, my darling.”

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#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x you #captain price x reader #captain’snirvana

[uchihaharlot]

I didn't mean to break their hearts, I was just curious, srry!😭😭 (but Itachi's one was kinda funny-)

But anyway, now I'm wondering about how they would react if they found out that you can draw really cool and beautiful.

(I'm an artist, so😎)

Nonny 🥹🥹

That put me in an really good mood; lol. That was way too fun to write; maybe I can one day write a super angsty break up (but I love them too much!!!).

I love all artists 😭😭😭 Painters, writers — digital or paper. Anything that expresses the inner workings of someone’s mind and the fact that they can manifest it to reality is so so so beautiful. I hope I’ve secretly seen your art, I’d probably simp over it. Always simp over art. 😂😂🥹🥹

N/SFW; very cute Uchiha men adoring your artwork! 🥹🥹🥹 (ooc Madara??); Simpy Obito; …Scandalous Shisui; abnormally observant Itachi 😂 suggestive themes rolled out the further I got. For some reason, I just had to. (P.s. I should not be allowed to write when tired??? Half of this was done while my eyes rolled shut in bed).

Madara:

It’s not everyday that Madara is blown like a leaf in the wind. When you mentioned being a patron of the arts, he thought maybe the art of battle?? Didn’t expect your weapon to be a paint brush with some acrylic paint. Thought it was some weird jutsu infused shit.

And then you just had to go above and beyond and do a portrait of him for his birthday!!!!! It’s hung on the living room center wall so that it’s the first thing anyone sees! Honestly, this man is a brute, but your art envokes his softer side! A side that he hasn’t been in touch with for…well, a long time.

Makes sure that everyone and I mean, everyone, is aware of your talent! Still, he tries to find the side hussle in it, soliciting customers for you and all. 😭😭 Will trash talk the chalk art children make on the sidewalk, which ‘…that’s not nice, they’re children..’ you say. He shrugs, nobody is as good as you.

Obito:

Finds out and tries to ‘secretly’ commission you lmao. Makes it totally obvious too, his handwriting is shit and eveeeerrryyyyone knows who Tobi really is…. Plus how can you even begin without discussing what he wants done!! Duh, Obito! Unfortunately for him, you are more interested in drawing matters of the flesh. He’ll only show his chest, nothing more.

‘That’s fine.’ You shrug, and get to work. Obito, however, does not have the resolve to sit still! It’s frustrating to no end, but alas, after what seems an eternity— its done. Sort of. Still much to add, but the basics are there and you’ll work better when he’s not asking how does it look every twenty minutes.

Eventually you do finish this beautiful piece of him, and Obito cries. You made his scars tolerable and beautiful with your mind’s creativity, he feels less self conscious about them, only a little.

Shisui:

Is the least normal about it when he discovered your sketchbook — more like snatched and played keep away. Had to fight him for it, literally. Will ask you to paint/draw him naked…many times lol and you respectfully say no... Not that he likes people to see him naked (ok maybe a little?) but he secretly hopes it might happen one day. It would be a private thing for the two of you, cause he wants that ass.

And when you do cave to his whim, just to satiate him. He’s nervous lmao. Had this oh so macho man idea of rocking a hard on but Shisui simply maintains his usual semi. It’s nice though, you make sure it’s extremely detailed..as he asked for.

But, ‘(y/n)… this is chibbi!!!’ Lol, jokes on Shisui!! He didn’t say how to draw his pp.

Itachi:

Is the most normal about it. Though he still will praise you every time you finish a piece and show him, he is still massively impressed. How does your wrist not get tired? …maybe this is why your hand jobs are so good. 😈 Just watching you try a new technique (pointillism, which is my favorite style) makes his wrist hurt. Enjoys when you ask him for ideas! He has lots of them! Mostly…obscure and derelict landscapes though.

Would not be opposed to having his portrait done, but it’s really not his style. He is disciplined enough to sit still but doesn’t see the value in it. Not until the final product is revealed, does he truly understand how important this piece was. You’ve captured his personality in a new light.

#madara headcanons #obito headcanons #shisui headcanons #itachi headcanons #madara x reader #obito x reader #shisui x reader #itachi x reader #madara uchiha #obito uchiha #shisui uchiha #itachi uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha family #uchiha headcanons

[lace-coffin]

May I request some domestic Asa headcannons? Like, what are his cooking habits? The types of food he prefers to actually eat and not hasty ones he grabbed in a hurry? Thank youuu <3

What kind of meals does Asa Emory like to cook and eat?

Requests are open!

Asa Emory / gn!Reader

Trigger warning for power exchange/power dynamics/petplay

This is a super fun idea omg thank you! I’m still going to go with the whole owner/pet angle since this is Asa, I hope that’s ok! It will still be domestic but with the dynamic too💗

Asa doesn’t have much time to cook regularly, constantly caught between lecturing at the local uni about a twenty minute drive away and keeping up with his collection at the hotel.

On days when Asa has free time or is just determined to get something nutritious in his stomach he dusts off his recipe book he bought on a whim on discount and gets to work.

Asa likes to think he has a pretty good repertoire of kitchen skills, not exactly a five star chef but better than most men his age.

He prefers to centre either meat or fish in his meals, usually covered in a flavourful marinade or rubbed down in herbs and spices. Asa enjoys vegetables to be steamed as opposed to boiled, he thinks it makes them taste sweeter and softer, texture is important to him. Flavoured rice is always a good side.

He’s more fond of sweets than you think he would be judging from his standoffish appearance. Dessert is a must, Asa tells himself it’s all part of a balanced diet and he can’t skip it because it wouldn’t be right. In reality he just really wants the apple pie, enjoying the tartness of it and unable to deny himself this simple pleasure.

And then there’s you. Asa has always been one to care for his pets to the best of his ability, keeping their meals on a schedule. Even if he’s short on time meals will be prepared a day or two prior and put in the freezer. He’s stubborn when it comes to making the meals balanced, often erring on the side of health obsessed when it comes to his pets, like a dad telling you to finish your vegetables before you can have dessert. He’s not too bothered if he has to throw a microwave meal on and eat that when he comes home late but he always likes to make sure you have something good for you available. This doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring home takeout sometimes, he loves how excited you get at the junk food and the way you flop down on his lap afterwards, letting him rub your tummy as you try to stop feeling bloated.

Dinner is made as you watch from the floor on your dog bed, head resting on your folded arms, watching your master fondly but also a little impatient and hungry. Occasionally Asa humours you and wears the frilly apron you begged him to order under the guise of you wearing it, only to present it to him with puppy eyes at dinner that night. He’s a strict and sadistic owner but he can be a total dork.

“Dinners ready. Come”. Asa snaps his fingers and points to the three metal bowls on the floor near to the dining table, one bowl next to his seat. The two large German Shepard’s ears perk at this and they scamper over, sitting at Asa’s heals, tails wagging. He looks at you expectantly as you crawl over and join the dogs at his feet.

The two metal bowls are filled with a measured amount of dog kibble and wet food, water on the side. The two dogs eye the bowls twitchily. He raises his hand, all fingers laid flat for the dogs to see. “Wait” the dogs sit sternly in front of their master using all their restraint to not dig in until given permission. “Go ahead” he chuckles and the dogs immediately dig in, he pats over their heads with an affectionate smile and moves back to the granite counter, filling the final metal bowl with a healthy mix of seasoned vegetables, rice and finally chopped bites of beef, all in a Korean sauce. He plates the same onto his dish and takes it to the table, sliding onto the wooden chair and groaning at the relief it takes off his weary joints.

Asa places the final bowl on the floor next to his chair and click his fingers again, pointing to the bowl. “Come” without question you crawl over to the bowl, eyes switching between the delicious food in front of you and your master, waiting for permission. Wearing a smug and smitten look back at you he finally clicks again. “Go ahead, pet” he chuckles lowly as you start to eat from the bowl, used to using only your mouth as your utensil at this point. He leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear that was falling into the sauce. “Messy pup”

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #writing #my writing

[thewertsearch]

AC: :33 < sorry to bother you again! AC: :33 < is AC: :33 < um [...] AC: :33 < he available? [...] TT: What is the name of this mystery fellow you seek? AC: :33 < aaaaa youre just teasing me now! AC: :33 < i f33l bad about bugging you about it [...] AC: :33 < i miss pounce a lot :(( AC: :33 < and talking to him reminds me of her

Aw, Nepeta. :(

Still, there are ways to solve this. Maybe Rose could give her the code for Jaspersprite's pendant - or just give him his own computer, like Davesprite's iShades.

You won't need it anymore. It served you well. You suppose there are a lot of things you've outgrown, now that you think about it.

...his own computer, Rose! I said his own computer!

Rose is abandoning her primary communication device. Obviously she has others, but her attitude here is still making me nervous - especially considering how heavy-handed her phrasing is.

Who or what do you think you've outgrown, Rose?

JASPERSPRITE: Did you learn to play the rain rose? ROSE: Not yet, Jaspers. ROSE: It's a little complicated, but I believe I've embarked on another quest, one which surpasses the scope of the objectives local to this planet.

I'm on record as being fully on board with Rose's skepticism about her Quest - but she should be equally skeptical about her new quest. Both are sponsored by suspicious entities with unclear motives, and I'm not sold on either of them.

ROSE: I'm saying there's something more important to accomplish now. Something more important than creating a universe. JASPERSPRITE: Oh thats ok rose i wouldnt want you to feel obligated to do that.

That's a strange sentiment, coming from Jaspers. Sprites generally echo the game's expectations for its Players, so it's odd that a game centered around fate, destiny and temporal obligation would tell Rose that her ultimate goal is optional. After all, she was made to create a universe.

Maybe Jaspers just loves Rose so much that he's on board with her rebellion, even though he doesn't understand it.

JASPERSPRITE: I think that winning this game and getting the prize is up to you and your friends. JASPERSPRITE: You get to decide whether or not you feel its right to do that and what kind of prize you want to make!

Is Jaspers implying that Sburb's prize doesn't have to be a universe? That winning the game can mean something else, instead?

Rose thinks her only options are to submit to the game's whims, or fight it tooth and nail. Perhaps that's a false dichotomy, and it's possible to fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum - some sort of alternate win condition that saves their doomed session.

Perhaps the game has recognized that Rose is a renegade, and it's trying to show her that things aren't so black and white. Maybe Sburb is signaling that it's willing to negotiate.

JASPERSPRITE: Its part of becoming who youre supposed to become i think.

Damn it! Just as I'm starting to wonder if Sburb is more flexible than we thought, it tosses this line at us.

I don't like this sentiment. It stinks of Alpha, and it's exactly the kind of thing that will piss Rose off. She's rebelling against what she perceives to be her destiny - the last thing she wants to hear is that there's someone she's 'supposed' to become.

JASPERSPRITE: I dont know i hope im not being too pushy rose its not my place to be im just your cat! JASPERSPRITE: But the thing that made me how i am now seems to really want me to say this to you. JASPERSPRITE: Your quest is really important for you to do. JASPERSPRITE: Not really because thats how to get the prize. JASPERSPRITE: But because its what you need to do for yourself!

This isn't about the universe, says Sburb.

This is totally bizarre. I thought it was all about the universe, and the game's Players were just the mechanism for creating them. Even the Quests are just extended tutorials on how to terraform planets.

Do the Players have another role to play?

JASPERSPRITE: I love you rose! I always have even when you were a little girl and i was an alive cat. ROSE: Thanks, Jaspers, that's nice to hear. ROSE: It's hard to remember, but I'm pretty sure I felt the same way back then. JASPERSPRITE: It was fun getting to be your cat again rose even if it was just for a little while and also while being a princess ghost. JASPERSPRITE: Bye rose! ROSE: See you, Jaspers! ROSE: If you see my mother in the course of your travels, tell her I said hello.

Alright, let's hit the pause button on the lore speculation. I need to grab some tissues :'(

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #2812 #s76

[badwritinghabit]

Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 8

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Warnings: language, yelling, cheesiness.

Word Count: 4,614

Summary: Luca surprises Sophie with a phone call. Sophie and Carmy fight. Luca comforts Sophie after a rough night-- twice.

Sophie was already itching to text Luca as she returned home from their afternoon out. She had googled ‘things to see in Copenhagen’ a few minutes into her train ride, excited at the prospect of visiting him. It was rare she had such an instant connection with someone. She didn’t want to lose it. 

But she knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up about being able to keep in contact. He lived so far away. And she was in Chicago for a reason. She hoped she’d get to visit him in the not too distant future. But there was no point lingering too long in her daydreams. 

She distracted herself by doing some of the things she loved. First she made some of her homemade poppy seed rolls in preparation to treat herself to an egg and cheese sandwich the next morning-- a favorite from her time in NYC. For dinner, she made herself one of her favorite comfort foods-- bruschetta.

After she ate, she did some intensive some self care. She took a bubble bath, covered herself in lotion, put on a sheet mask, and then laid on her couch. She started watching Love Island on her laptop, propping it up on her legs as she laid against the armrest of the couch. She was behind an episode and knew her sister would want to talk about it when she got back. 

A few minutes after she laid down, she heard her phone vibrating against the wood of the table. She reached over, grabbing the phone with a tired groan. She sat straight up when she saw Luca’s name on the screen. She moved the laptop to the table and hit the green answer button on her phone.

“Hello?” she answered, voice coming out rushed. She reached over to pause the video on her laptop.

“Hi Sophie. How’s your night?” Luca asked.

“Good. Quiet. Just watching a show. Yours?” she asked, sinking back into her couch. Her nervous excitement immediately tempered by the already comfortingly familiar sound of his voice.

“It’s quiet here too,” he said, voice soft. “I got back to my hotel room and realized there was somewhere I’d rather be.” 

“Yeah?” Sophie smiled, knowing she sounded embarrassingly eager. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Would you like some company? I have to be up early for my flight but I could bring my luggage over and leave from there.”

“Yes!” she agreed immediately. “And I’m always up early anyways.” 

“OK. Great. I’ll be there in a bit,” he sounded as excited as she did and she felt fluttery. They had one more night. 

As soon as she hung up she went to the bathroom and peeled the face mask off. She fanned her face, trying to dry her skin quicker while she ran over to her bedroom. She quickly changed from her ratty t-shirt to a much cuter silky pajama set. She tidied, putting a few dishes into the dishwasher. 

She looked around for other things to do. On a whim, she lit the candles she had on the table. After she returned from double checking her bedroom, she felt embarrassed at the lit candles and decided it was too much. She blew them out.

Realizing she was doing way too much, she sat, forcing herself to stop overthinking and just put Love Island back on to distract her until he arrived.

When she ran down to let him in, she realized she had forgotten how chilly it was outside. She opened the door and immediately wrapped an arm around herself, severely underdressed for the weather.

Luca stood in front of her with his small rolling suitcase and a leather messenger bag.  “Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile, despite the shiver that shot down her spine.

He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her gently. “You’re cold. Let’s get inside.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms quickly to warm her. 

“Are you watching Love Island?” Luca asked, as he walked in and looked at her laptop propped up on her coffee table. He set his luggage aside, walked over, and plopped down on her couch. She shot him a questioning look, surprised he knew about the reality tv show. At his grin, she followed and sat next to him. 

Sophie curled into him as he threw his arm around the back of the couch. She melted into the comfort of his warmth, feeling like it was where she belonged.

“Catch me up on what’s going on. My mom and sister love this show so I hear about it on our weekly calls,” Luca said as he started stroking her arm, up and down, gentle and familiar.  

Sophie launched into an update after asking what he already knew. Something about the comfortable domesticity of being curled up on the sofa watching reality TV hit her and she snuggled into him more, so cozy she found herself fighting off sleep. 

As the episode ended, Sophie snuggled into Luca with a yawn, blinking tired eyes as she tried to wake herself from the drowsy, comfy reverie she found herself in– wrapped safe in Luca’s arms. 

“Bed time?” he asked, looking tired himself. She nodded.

Sophie got in bed to wait for him, trying to stay awake. He returned from the bathroom in an old t-shirt and climbed into bed with her, pulling her gently into his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“I should set an alarm for 6:30. I have to be to the airport by 8,” Luca said.

“I set your phone on the charger by your side,” she said, pointing to the side table. He leaned over to grab his phone, keeping one arm wrapped around her. She snuggled into his chest.

“This is a nice shirt,” Sophie mumbled as Luca fiddled with his phone. Her fingers played with the hem. It had the soft worn feeling of a well loved piece of clothing. 

“It’s an old football shirt. Used to play with some friends years back,” he said as he put the phone down. Sophie had snuck her hand underneath the shirt and around his side to wrap him in a hug. “You can have it if you want,” his voice was slowed, tired as he sunk down into her bed, comfortable in her arms. 

“Wait really?” she perked up, cheeks glowing pink. 

“Yeah. Not as soft as these pajamas but might keep you a bit warmer,” he teased, his hand running up her thigh and to her side, the silky fabric bunching against her, the heat of his palm finding the soft skin of her waist.

She blushed and hugged him tighter. “I’d like that,” she admitted, quietly. His hands caressed her side in calming movements that slowed as he sighed and shifted, getting comfortable.

She realized, slowly, that he didn’t want to have sex. He just wanted to sleep. With her. Wrapped in each other’s arms. She leaned up, cupping his face gently and pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back down to wrap herself around him. “Goodnight, Luca.” 

“Goodnight.”

---

Sophie was glad she had prepared the rolls, pleased she ended up having the chance to cook one of her comfort dishes for Luca. The two enjoyed a breakfast of egg sandwiches and coffee over the soundtrack provided by her neighbor’s music loud enough to be heard through the wall. Luca remarked on the songs between their quiet conversation, his easy going commentary making her smile. 

They kissed goodbye on the stairs outside of her apartment building. “Text me when you get there safely,” she said, before really thinking about what that kind of request meant. He agreed. 

And then he left.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment and shuffled back to her bed to lay down. She found he had left the t-shirt he had worn the night before. Folded neatly and placed on top of her blanket.

---

Sophie and Luca texted non stop through his time in New York. She loved seeing the pictures he sent. She shared some of her own, though she rarely had anything terribly interesting to send. Luca always seemed happy to hear about her days anyways. 

Their conversations dropped off a few days later, after he returned home to Copenhagen. She was disappointed. She had found herself hoping for more, against her better instincts. She knew it was unlikely they’d be able to stay in contact with such a massive distance between them.

She decided to try to be happy with the experience and leave it at that. She couldn’t leave her sister anytime soon. And she had gotten so very attached to him in their three days together. Maybe it was healthy to step back a bit.

She forced the thoughts from her head as she walked into The Bear. She had told Carmy she'd return to help with decor decisions. And after their night of tapas and talking, she thought things between them were finally cleared. But as she stepped through the door, she found herself face to face with a clearly irritated Carmy.

“We don’t need you here,” he said, turning away from her, twisting a rag in his hands as he looked back down at a place setting and some dishware.

“What? I thought we were just going to talk about plates– and decor and stuff,” she said, confused and hurt. She thought things had been smoothed over between them.

“Yeah. But we don’t need you,” he said, again, arms crossed. 

“What is this about?” she asked, getting frustrated. “Just tell me, okay?”

“You don’t need to be here. It isn’t your restaurant.” He was getting louder and instead of feeling cowed or wanting to run, Sophie found herself getting angry. 

“What the fuck, Carmen? Just tell me what you’re actually mad about.” 

“You didn’t tell Luca about your sister,” he said, voice suddenly quieter again. She heard a familiar voice from her side and she glanced over to see Fak mutter something to Nat, Carmy’s sister. They were both standing behind them, watching. Nat grabbed Fak’s arm and walked him away, giving her and Carmy privacy. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” her voice shook, hurt that he had brought this up in front of an audience. 

“He called me a few days ago, wanting to talk about you. And I had to tell him why you’re in Chicago.” He was getting louder. “It’s not my fucking job to be your babysitter.” He threw the cloth he was holding on the table and walked away. 

Sophie followed after him. “You’re not running away from this Carmen,” she followed him back into the kitchen. “Talk to me!” she shouted as she got through the door. He turned, looking furious. And that made her even angrier. “Why the fuck would you tell him? Why is this your business?” “He’s my friend! And you just didn’t mention that your sister has cancer? That maybe he shouldn’t start planning trips for you to come see him?”

Some part of Sophie’s brain stuck on that idea. That Luca had wanted her to come see him. But the rest of her was pounding heart, pumping blood, furious at Carmy. 

“It wasn’t your place to tell him. This is my life!” she nearly growled at him. She was furious he had meddled. Furious he was judging her for this. Like he hadn’t kissed her after he started talking to Claire again.

He was supposed to be her friend.  

“Listen to yourself. This is his life too. You can’t fuck around with my friends.” 

“Fuck around with your friends? He asked me out! We’re adults, Carmy!” She wanted to scream at him. What was his problem? “He lives in Copenhagen. He was here for three days. He didn’t need to know!” 

“It isn’t my job to clean up after you anymore,” he said, voice cold and deliberate. It was a low blow. Cruel. She felt it in her ribcage. 

She thought for a second she saw remorse in his eyes, as if he could see how much it had hurt to hear him disparage the help he had given her. But he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay Carmen,” she said bitterly, turning to leave.

But she felt the tide of anger rise up and she clenched her fists. How could he act like she was in the wrong? After everything that had happened?

“No– you know what? Who do you think you are? I wanted one nice day! One fucking day where I wasn’t the sad girl. And don’t act like you don’t know Carmen. You can’t be mad at me for not telling my whole life story to someone I had known for three days.” She was breathing heavily, still staring him dead in the eye. 

He just shook his head. Watching him judge her was infuriating. She couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t lie! He didn’t ask. I told him I moved here for my sister. He didn’t ask why.”

“I don’t want to listen to your excuses,” he said, voice deadly calm. But she was still shaking with righteous fury. “Fine. I’m done, Carmen. I’m so fucking done.” She stormed past and left out the back door. She was shaking, her breaths coming fast. She tried to hold back tears but stormed out of the alley behind The Bear, tears streaming down her face. 

She thought she heard someone calling for her but she kept up her pace and left, not wanting to talk to anyone.

---

Sophie sat on her couch, ignoring the television show playing in front of her. Her phone started buzzing on her coffee table so she reached out, freezing when Carmy’s name flashed on the screen. 

She groaned and left it, ignoring the call. She was not ready to talk to him. Sick of the yelling and the fighting. She wanted to help him but he made it so fucking hard. She was done with the hot and cold. She just wanted a quiet night. 

A little while later she saw the indicator pop up meaning he left a message. She didn’t listen to it. 

She felt like the little magic bubble around her time with Luca popped and she was back in the real world. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, frustrated with herself. She decided to just text Luca. Clear the air. She didn’t want to sit with this feeling. 

“Hey! Want to set up a call soon? It has been a while,” she sent, figuring she would keep it light. She didn’t want to send him an ominous ‘we need to talk’ text. 

An hour or so later he replied. 

“Are you still awake? I could call while I’m walking to work.” 

“That would be great! I’ll be up for a while yet.” 

After 20 minutes, her phone finally started to ring. “Hello?” she answered quickly.

“Hey,” he responded. His voice calmed her a little, the same warm Luca. 

Still, there was an awkward silence. She knew she needed to talk about it. But she put it off a little longer.

“It’s early. 4:30 there?” 

“Yeah it’s about a 20 minute walk from my place. It’s nice here in the early mornings though. Peaceful.” 

“That sounds nice,” Sophie agreed.

Another pause. She breathed. Knew she needed to get it out in the open. “I suppose I should tell you, Carmy told me about the conversation you two had.” 

Luca was quiet on the other side of the world. 

“He was mad on your behalf. Didn’t let me off easy. He’s a good friend to have.” She sighed after a pause.

“He was mad?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hide things. It’s just– we were having a nice time and I didn’t want to ruin it,” she said, quietly. 

“Sophie, he shouldn’t have been mad. I’m not mad,” Luca said, sounding concerned. “You moved across the country to take care of your family. Why would I be mad that you didn’t tell me all of that after only a few days?”

Sophie was relieved but confused. Carmy had exploded at her. She assumed Luca must have been mad too. She felt tears in her eyes, wanting to be released. She took a shaky breath, not sure how to reply. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” she answered but her trembling voice betrayed her.

“Oh love,” he said. “You thought I was mad? I’m not. I was trying to figure out what to say. I was going to call on my day off tomorrow.”

“It was such a magical couple days. I thought I had ruined it,” she admitted, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird day. I’m fine.” 

“Sophie. You don’t need to apologize. Really.” She heard some noise on his end, like someone was greeting him. And he was quiet for a bit. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice a little less wobbly. “Sorry, I’m trying to figure out what happened.”

“Yeah- I don’t really understand myself. I’ll talk to Carmy,” he sounded a little frustrated. 

“Maybe he is just caught up with the restaurant stuff,” she said, tiredly, defending him without really thinking about it. 

Luca hummed. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah. I think I was preparing myself for a different conversation so I’m catching up.” 

“I’m sorry I made you think you did something wrong. I shouldn’t have talked to Carmy. I didn’t think about it.”

“No it’s okay.” She paused and sighed. She didn't know what to say, still reeling. But then she realized there was one good thing she learned. “It was nice to hear you still wanted me to visit. I was already looking up things to do in Copenhagen.”

“Yeah? Find anything good” he said, smile clear in his voice.

“The botanical gardens look beautiful.” She tried to remember specifics but came up blank. “Um–there was a castle.”

“Thorough research,” he teased her.

“Well you see, there’s this guy there–”

“Is there?”

“He makes really fantastic french toast.”

“Does he?” She could hear his smile and it made her blush.

“And I thought he could show me around. Be my tour guide.” 

Luca chuckled and the sound soothed her. “I’d love to.”

“We should make real plans soon,” she said, her exhaustion catching up to her as she fought off a yawn.

“I’d like that. You sound tired. And it must be late there, you should go to sleep. But– you’re wonderful, Sophie. And we should talk more soon, yeah?” His voice was warm and calming. In only a few minutes he had convinced her everything would be okay. 

She blushed. “Yeah. Thanks, Luca,” she said. She felt calmed. “Good night. Or good morning.” 

“Good night, Sophie.” 

She went to bed– decided she’d listen to Carmy’s voicemail in the morning. She wanted to end her night on a happy note.

---

“I’m sorry, Soph. 

I didn’t tell him on purpose. I thought he knew so when he started asking about Copenhagen, I brought it up. But it wasn’t my place.

And I know– I should have been looking out for you. I want to look out for you. I’m just– things are difficult with the restaurant right now. 

I feel like I’m wasting too much time with Claire. And I don’t know what I’m doing any more. 

But I shouldn’t have yelled. And I’m really sorry. 

Just-please come to the friends and family night.”

She couldn’t miss the opening of his restaurant. No matter how annoyed she was at him. She texted him that she’d be there.

---

The Bear was full of familiar faces when she arrived. She waved at Pete who was clearly waiting for Nat to return. Sophie assumed she must’ve gotten pulled into more restaurant madness. It was their first attempt at service, Sophie knew things must be intense in the kitchen.

Richie showed her, Tim, and Mallory to a table in the corner. “Nice suit,” she said to him as he pulled out her chair. He grinned at her, standing taller. He introduced himself to her sister and she could tell the two of them got on immediately.

Wine was poured, the menu was shared. Sophie decided to order the pasta dish Syd had talked about the week prior. As she looked around the restaurant, she knew they were building something incredible.

Carmen came and served their first dish, pouring their broth with steady hands. She smiled at him as he looked up. “Everything looks amazing, Carm.” She said to him, noticing his nerves. He smiled and thanked her. She could still feel the awkwardness between them, they hadn’t really talked since their fight. But she wanted him to know she supported him.

He quickly greeted Tim and Mallary, thanking them for coming. Mallary smiled at him and thanked him for the invite.   

After a few minutes, Sophie noticed Richie go into the kitchen and not come back. It looked like there was an issue with some other tables getting their food out. Only barely noticeable, the tiniest bit longer than she’d expected, but she knew the signs of stress too well. She was worried for Carmy.

"This is fantastic." Mallary gushed, eating her steak. "He really is talented," she said, looking to Sophie. “Even if he is an asshole.” 

"He is under a lot of pressure,” she countered, taking the first bite of Syd’s dish. It was perfect. The noodles were the perfect texture. The sauce was perfectly balanced. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. She knew she needed to congratulate Syd the next time she saw her.

The night went on and Carmy never came out. Mallary kept shooting Sophie concerned glances and she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. 

Sophie watched as Claire got up and pushed her way into the kitchen. They had finished dessert, Marcus's honey bun was amazing, and Sophie had been trying to draw out their time a little before they left to make sure things were okay.

"I feel like something is wrong," she admitted, toying with the napkin on the table. “I’m a little worried for Carmy.” She waited and sighed. “But Claire just went in, she’s probably got it covered. We should just go.”

Her sister looked at her concerned but nodded. The three stood up, getting ready to leave. Tim held out Mallary’s coat to help her slide it on. There was a crashing noise and all three watched as the kitchen doors swung open and Claire stormed out of the kitchen and met up with her friends, tears in her eyes. 

"Go back there," Mallary encouraged, looking at her sister.

Sophie bit her lip but nodded. “I’ll be right back.” 

She walked in to see Richie yelling at the freezer. She couldn’t fully process what he was saying, the banging on the freezer making her stop in shock trying to figure out what was happening.

Carmy was yelling, the sound muffled from the other side of the freezer. His pounding echoing around the nearly empty kitchen. Richie was yelling back. Sophie looked to Syd, eyes wide. “What is going on?” 

“Carmy’s locked in the freezer.” 

“Fuck-” she exhaled. She walked over to Richie, the closer she got, the more clearly she could hear Carmy’s frantic shouts through the freezer. Her heart started racing, unsure how to help– how to handle it.

Richie turned to see her walking up. He called towards the freezer, “You got another visitor, asshole. Let’s see you fuck it up with her too.” 

She heard Carmy’s muffled “What the fuck did you say?” directed at Richie.

"Richie,” she said incredulously, eyes wide at his snipe at Carmen. 

“Did you see Claire? He’s fucking everything up tonight. I’d stay the fuck away.” 

She was still angry at Carmen. Still hurt that he threw her struggles in New York in her face the last time they spoke. But she couldn’t help but defend her friend. “Richie this is a huge night and he's in the freezer! And you're yelling at him? Just go walk it off."

"Yeah, take his side,” he was clearly still heated, rolling his shoulders back and looking up at the ceiling.

She stepped closer and crossed her arms. "Walk it off, Richie.” Her voice was calm– deadly quiet. 

"Fine. Fuck. You deal with him." He stalked off.

"Fuck," she whispered to his retreating back. "Is someone coming to get him out?" She turned to Syd and Marcus who had been watching the whole exchange.

"Yeah" Syd said, walking over. "Another 30 minutes at least though."

"Okay," she acknowledged. She walked over to the freezer and placed an ear on it. Carmy had stopped yelling. 

"Carm." she said. "It’s Sophie. I’m out here. I’m gonna go send my sister home and then I’ll be right back ok?” She waited a second but didn’t hear a response. 

She walked quickly to the front of house and hugged Tim and Mallary goodbye, before rushing back to the kitchen. She slid to the floor and sat against the freezer, back to the door. “I’m back.” She called into the freezer. Syd had disappeared somewhere, service was over and it was quiet. 

"You shouldn't be here." She finally heard Carmy say to her, and she sighed in relief, glad he was at least speaking to her. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. But found herself blurting the thing on her mind. 

“You followed me into a freezer four years ago. On one of the hardest nights of my life,” she said, turning and putting her cheek against the door, palm on the floor. “I thought my whole world was falling apart.” 

She remembered that night with dread in her chest. Their head chef threw her plate of food at her, the sauce splattered across her chest, plate bruising her shoulder and crashing to the floor, her heart racing. She had rushed into the first place she could hide, the freezer. And Carmy had followed. Had held her as she fell apart in his arms. 

“But it was okay. You made sure I was okay. And I needed you to know that out there, the night was perfect. Your team pulled it off. And it fucking sucks that you missed it in here. But you still did this, Carm. It was still your day.”

He was silent for a while, and Sophie waited nervously for a response. Worried she had messed up.

“Thanks, Sophie.” 

She sighed, relieved, turning so her back was against the door again. “Of course, Carm. I’m here.” 

Eventually, someone came out and cut open the freezer door. She felt her heart breaking for Carmy as he walked out, looking exhausted and downtrodden. She stepped forward before she could stop herself and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly to her chest. She pulled away after a second, as she watched Nat step forward to talk to him. Sophie smiled quickly at Nat and then at Carmy, gesturing with her thumb that she was going to head out. 

She grabbed her clutch and pulled out her phone. Quickly texting her sister saying she was headed home, that everything was fine. Then she ordered a Lyft home.

---

Luca texted as she arrived home, asking about the opening. She smiled, thankful she had someone to talk about her night with. She hit the call button as she walked into her apartment, slipping off her shoes, tension melting away as soon as she heard Luca’s voice.

“Hello love, how was your night?”

#chef luca x reader #carmy berzatto x original character #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fanfiction

[fatuismooches]

*flops out of sewer*

I noticed a couple of posts where Dottore holds onto stuff from fragile reader and I thought what if he has a locked drawer in his office where he's keeps littles trinkets or stuff from reader and looks at it whenever he's stuck on something or not in the best of moods and one day when reader is in his office they discover it. ahhh fluff fluff ( *pulls out angst* and reader starts crying because they didn't think their stuff is good enough for Dottore to see and that's why it was in the rubbish in the first place. hehehe ) fluffy fluff.

Ok. Have a lovely day smooches!

* flops back into sewer *

-Jellofish Anon

SOBBING RN NO ONE SPEAK TO ME... I saw your other ask referencing if fragile reader drew/made some kind of art but it comes out poorly due to their illness too and I just. CANT HANDLE THIS OH MY GOD. THIS MADE MY TEENY HEART HURT SO BAD. A part of you always wondered what he did with your little things... this was Dottore after all you couldn't always tell what he'd do. Especially since your creations weren't of much material or scientific value. You just hoped that in the instance you gave it to him, he was happy, nothing more. But clearly, you underestimated your husband... you didn't know he looks at your poorly made artwork when he's frustrated with his research, or fiddles with your not-so-well-constructed accessories when he's no step closer to finding a cure. You didn't know he thinks about you and what you're doing right now when he's stuck signing paperwork. Sigh...

You didn't mean to snoop around his office. The segments said he'd be there, but he wasn't. So you thought you'd just wait around a bit to see if he'd show up. And what better to occupy yourself by sitting in Dottore's large spinning chair and getting comfy. Even his coat was hanging there! But then you noticed that one of his drawers was the tiniest bit open, which surprised you as he always kept that one particularly locked. You never cared much about it because you presumed it was just important Fatui or research materials. But now that it was opened, right in front of your fingertips... you just had a feeling that you needed to know. And what was revealed to you was no confidential Fatui matter. No top-secret experiment. It was... merely the small gifts and trinkets you gave him on a whim. You swear, some of these were trashed in the bin, that you never showed to him too. Nothing fancy... and nothing very nice since your shaky hands weren't good enough for that. And that drawer was LONG. You kept sticking your hand in it and pulling out more folded pieces of paper. And what did you know, he also still had some things from hundreds of years ago that you made, these ones better quality since you weren't sick. Or letters you wrote to him, clearly worn but still recognizable. To think all of this was kept right in his desk... The revelation immediately started your tears. Dottore cared more than he would ever let on or show. Of course he did.

You tried your best to place the items back just as you had found them but your blurry eyes made it hard and eventually you just shoved them into the drawer. Hopefully he wouldn't open it up for a while, but he'd know it was you whenever he did. You just ran to your room and cried for a bit, both happy and sad that he actually liked your stuff enough to keep 🚶‍♀️ (He found out on the same day and came to your room to find you sleeping, and tucked you in once he saw your face)

#smooches talks #jellofish anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #bro thought he could be a cutie and get away with it smh #ummm btw im sorry for posting like.. 2 times a day lmao i just have a lot of work 🫠 #I SWEAR IM WORKING ON IT THO I HAVE ALL MY ANON ASKS IN MY DRAFTS 😤

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Thinking about how hilarious it would be (plot-wise) for things to be reversed in mota, say, women are the ones that go off to war instead of the men. I can picture Croz being a donut dollie but what do you think the others would be? 😂🤭

Steph this is so genius and comical and I’m not intelligent enough to do more than wheeze at the possibilities yet. Like this is trash but here’s initial thots:

I can so easily imagine Croz being the most earnest Donut Dollie ever, everyone gets a proper good-luck send off and the best pastry ever made, there’s a painful chronicle behind those eyes of each face that didn’t return, the smile lines don’t lessen but the eyes get sadder as the months pass, but still, Croz remains just as committed as day one and can summon up a dance and a prayer at whim.

Miss Egan? This one’s a WASP, probably one of the ones who almost got sent from Halifax to Britain before that mission got scrubbed due to “putting women in combat zones” -and Miss Egan was pissed as hell, probably maybe even tried to take off anyway. A trailblazer, her over-officer’s chief nightmare and the trailblazing champion of the girls around her. If things were truly so bent that it was the girls freely going off without any hold backs?! -this one suits the fighter pilot mentality tbh

Gale? Gosh I don’t know, such capability, a demeanor that would get her far into promotions but a simmering itch to never be so elevated as to be out of the action? -I honestly am too torn to label right now.

Brady? She likes her locations to be accurate, ok? She’s probably in navigation and the steadiest and most impressive Secretary you could hope for

#mota asks #mota headcanons #masters of the air #Miss Egan #Miss Cleven #Miss Crosby #Miss Brady #genderbent mota

[igotanidea]

Jealousy : Gar Logan x reader x Conner Kent

When Dick’s lie about Jericho was exposed.

When everything crumbled down.

When Titans fell apart. (again)

When everyone left the tower.

Gar was left completely alone with unconscious Conner, trying his best to keep his head up, just like Dick said.

It worked for two days.

After that, Gar had no motivation left in him and was just trailing around the rooms, hoping someone, anyone would come back. His wish was soon granted as at first Connor wake up. Of course, it was never intention Beast Boy intention to see Superboy in all his naked glory but still, it was uplifting to have another soul to talk to. And a day later, one of the younger titans Y/N came back to tower. In her own words, it was her home and she would never feel good anywhere else. She was shyly standing by the kitchen counter while explaining this and both boys watched her with enamored expression. She did not know but despite the fact that they already made friends none of them would let the other win her over. Y/N was strong herself, given her air powers, but both Gar and Conner felt sudden urge to protect her and be by her side through all the good and bad.

They were about to have a chance.

The same organization that produced Conner busted through the tower’s window trying to get the boy back. With glass shattered everywhere, armed men surrounding the titans and guns pointed towards their heads they really had no place to run. Luthor’s organization were more than happy to realize than instead of getting one enhanced human, they get to capture three. At first, however they really had to capture them. In order to do so, they shoot some sedative towards Gar just right after he turned into a tiger.

“NO!” Y/N yelled covering him in her best attempt to swing the bullet around with a heavy blirt and failing miserably, getting shot in effect. A dose aimed at the muscular animal was a bit too much for a human and it made her loose conscience almost immediately.

“Y/N!” despite being poisoned with Cryptonite Connor made it to the girl in time to prevent her from hitting the floor. Now, all three teenagers were weakened, unable to fight and too much of an easy target.

“What are we going to do with them? I mean, we wanted Superboy and now….” One of the masked man turned towards the dark haired woman who was clearly the leader of the operation.

“You’ll see soon enough.” She smiled devilishy as her gaze lingered over the unconscious girl, hurt and bleeding Gar and coughing Conner.

***

After a series of heavy experiments on boys, Y/N was finally let out of her room cage. For the past two days Luthor’s scientists were messing with their heads, trying to reprogram their abilities to Lex’s whims only to be used in a battle against each other.  Y/N was forced to watch Gar turn into a wild, predatory animal without his own control and hurt and kill people. Just because of some music. All the tears she cried while watching the scene could never fully reflect the pain inside. Gar was her friend and it killed her to sit with him in silence when his consciousness came back and he realized what he had done.

“Gar….” She whispered after the incident at the coffee shop gently grabbing his hands. He did not answer, just kept looking on the floor. “It’s gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok….” She kept repeating even if she herself did not believe it.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry, you have to go through this…..”

“What? Me? Gar, are you insane? You are the most harmed one here. I…. I’m nothing” she shook her head.

“You are not nothing Y/N. I care about you, all right. More than…..” he started

“None of this is your fault, remember that. We are just being used. All three of us.” The tears were flowing freely down her face and Gar could not resist gently wiping them away. Seeing her cry was just breaking his heart.

“Y/N…. I need to tell you something. Not the perfect timing, but I…..”

“Ok, you two, that’s enough” the same dark haired women as always jumped into the car. “We are only getting started with all the fun. You, Gar, need some rest after such well done job, and as for you miss Y/N, we got one more show for you.”

“You can’t ….”

“Oh, Mr. Logan” the woman pouted “you should know better by now. We can. And we most definitely will.”

If only he wasn’t so tired and so blue he would fight for her, but it was simply too much.

***

“More show” meant that Y/N was now standing in front of a glass wall, watching brainwashed Conner complying with the commands of the woman in a robot-like manner. He wasn’t himself anymore. Those beast of a people turned him into a puppet, becoming a product to be shown to and bought by similar cutthroat moneybags, who would offer the biggest amount of money for him. When the connection between the potential bidders were cut, the only thing Conner was to do was…..”

“No…” Y/N whispered “No, Conner, please don’t….” she put a hand on the cold glass, trying to stop him from killing one of the unfomfortable workers, knowing well enough it won’t work. To her surprise, Conner with his superhearing turned towards her. Just like Gar’s his eyes conveyed so much pain, fear and anger. He looked straight at the girl and his eyes glistened upon seeing her so fragile, broken and mistreated. He was about to run straight towards her, hold her tight to his chest and get the hell out of here, but before he could act on that, the woman pressed a button on some strange electronic device and he was back to the robot mode. No hesitation and no mercy in his action as he put a gun to the other’s man head and shot him, leaving another scar on girl’s psyche.

***

Bloody battle was supposed to be the last straw in breaking the teenagers. It did not go according to the plan. Before the show and money raise could even start, the Titans showed up at the fun fair saving the day. Rachel saved Gar, helping him getting back in control of his shapeshifting skills, Kori, Donna and Dawn with a little help from Dick and Rachel dealt with Conner and as it was done, Dick retrieved Y/N from the kidnapper’s claws.  Gar and Y/N were almost shaking while Superboy was just standing in the middle of the ground assessing the damage. And everything would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that Donna sacrificed herself and died, crushed by the power pole. Y/N could not stand it anymore as she fell to the ground sobbing and screaming, not caring how much of a freak she was making out of herself. Gar immediately crouched next to her, holding her tightly, reassuringly, just like she did so many times during his captivity. Caressing her back, he helped her up not letting go even for a second. Beast boy was doing everything in his power to make her feel taken care of, help her thought that feeling of emptiness, unfairness and guilt. The truth was, he felt exactly the same and the way Y/N was clinging to him brought him a bit of so much needed comfort. Having her so close only made his love for the girl and the urge to keep her safe stronger.

“It’s gonna be ok, Y/N. You have me.” He whispered holding her closer and not noticing Conner’s sideway glances. Or maybe choosing not to see them.  

***

The team was back together. Almost because Wonder girl was gone leaving everyone with a hole in their chests. Ironically, this brought Gar and Y/N closer than ever since apart from Dick, Donna was always their role model. After few days, more often than less those two could easily be found talking and laughing in the kitchen or playing video games together. They really did grow closer and truly Gar was gathering courage to confess how much he fell for her.

“Y/N” she was standing in front of the huge window looking at the street, her e/c orbs scanning every little detail of the evens happening outside. When she heard Gar’s voice she turned around and the most beautiful smile lightened her face and made his knees buckle.

“Hi Gar. What’s up?”

“I… I need to tell you something, but…. If that’s bad moment….”

“No. Not at all. I actually got some free time. Dick is cutting  me some slack with the training since … you know, last events. I wanted to train, but he was insisting that I rest. Quite suspicious, so I think…..”

“I lo….” beast boy was about to blurt out when out of nowhere Conner rushed into the room. Damn the enhanced speed and hearing.

“Y/N!” Superboy yelled. “Can we talk?”

“Like now?” she frowned “Gar was just about to say something, so…”

“YES! Sorry, I mean, yes, I need to talk to you now. It’s urgent.”

“I bet it is” Gar muttered crossing his arms knowing well enough what and why Conner was doing. “But I was here first. So a minute of wait would not damage you.”

“Oh, I think it will. And it is not the matter of priority.”

“You sure about that” Gar tilted his head “you don’t seem convinced.”

“what are you suggesting?” Conner took a step closer to the other boy.

“Nothing.” Gar shrugged “Are you suggesting something?”

“Um…. Guys?” Y/N tried to interrupt them before those started throwing fists.

“She’s not a possession!”

“Look who’s talking. You are simply scared she would choose me over you!”

“Liar!”

“Coward!”

“Gyus!” the girl yelled and this time get their full attention “what is wrong with you two. You are friends, remember. And if this is about me, which I can guess is, you better get me out of your heads. You are both acting like kids. I’m out. Don’t follow me!” she turned on her heels and walked out of the room almost ramming Rachel, who’s eyes widened and who took one glance at the boys and quickly followed Y/N.

“What happened?” she asked her friend who was circling the room in frustration.

“Boys are idiots, that’s what happened!”

“Um… that’s obvious. You will have to be more specific about the situation.”

“Those two dumbasses fell in love with me. BOTH OF THEM!”

“Oh.”

“Really, Rach? Oh? What do I do now?”  

to be continued? (let me know if you want part 2 of this)

#dc #dc titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #gar logan #gar logan x reader #conner kent #conner kent x reader #beast boy #beast boy x reader #superboy #superboy x reader #dc imagine #garfield logan #gar logan imagine #conner kent imagine #superboy imagine #dc titans x reader

[blood-choke]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I really appreciate this game and how it portrays butchness. I'm a huge fan of lesbian lit and there are so few butches in media that to see a game have not one, but three, makes me feel a certain kind of way.

Aside from that, I was really drawn to how you portrayed the differing relationships between all the characters. Everything feels so visceral and real, it just feels so crunchy that I find myself wanting for more. I really look forward to seeing how it will turn out for everyone involved.

Additionally, (if this is too spoilery, has been answered, or insensitive pls feel free to ignore) is it ok if I ask how you decide the dialogue and event flow of the choices? I was mildly and pleasantly surprised that flirting with Clear and staying with her in ch 3 would lead to "that" scene, and I'm curious on your writing process on how it lead to that.

Ultimately, I just really want to thank you for sharing your game with us. Im just really glad to be able to experience this game and I hope that you stay safe!

thank you!

overall when it comes to structuring dialogue & choices i tend to write a linear path first & then double back to add more branches.

i had a basic outline of the chapter & knew what i wanted to touch on with each route & what scenes needed to happen, and then i just kinda started writing from there. Clear's was actually the one i wrote first, her sex scene was what i wrote first, and then i went back and built a lot of the route around it.

i wrote Clear's and Hana's routes simultaneously since they were so intertwined, but i ended up rewriting Hana's three times, whereas with Clear i just had to edit it a bit. i knew i wanted them to have that conversation at the table about Clear not having any friends, and then i wrote the scene where mc finds the vampire erotica book. it took some trial and error until i was happy with the dialogue & choices at the table, as well as how i wanted to split the following variations. i tend to do the romantic variations first, and then work my way down, and sometimes i have to go backwards and edit as i write because i'll add something on a whim to one variation and decide that actually i want this to be in all of them.

i am definitely someone that's a bit of a "planster" meaning i do minimal planning and write a lot by the seat of my pants. sometimes it works, other times it puts me in a bit of a bind. like i said i tend to set out with specific information/dialogue/scene/etc in mind that i know has to happen, and build up around it.

with Hana the main focus in her route was that conversation with mc; i wanted mc to get overwhelmed at the store, and for her and Hana to talk about it afterwards, and for Hana to be frustrated at her situation as this person who suddenly has to comfort and take care of mc after being replaced by her. again, minimal planning, i wrote almost her whole route before i started working on Valentina's & i mentioned Standard and his proclivities towards Chinese antiques. this made me realize i needed to rewrite a lot of Hana's dialogue to be more inclusive of her race. i went back to Clear's route, and ended up writing a lot of the conversation with Hana there after she gets back from the store, and then i adapted it to the other routes.

Valentina's route was all about the painting. again, i wrote that initial scene of walking into her room, the description of the painting, and then her first sex scene, and built up from there. there was also the brief meeting with Joan, which was mostly just for fun and to introduce those characters early for anyone that went on V's route, so the next chapter those players will have a little jump on who they are. but the main point was that painting & i think it's pretty obvious with how the whole route plays out, and the fact that the painting is always seen by all players.

this is still a game, so it is gamified quite a bit, with all 3 characters having a potential sex scene in the same chapter at the same time. i planned it that way to make it easy for myself and because that's just how i wanted it to go. i put some stat checks in place to add variations, like if you went with Hana or Valentina in ch2, if you flirted with Clear or not, and again, it was a lot of jumping around and trial and error. i wrote a significant part of Valentina's route out of order, and i finished hers last before i finalized the council meeting (which i had written very early on but like Hana's route i had to rewrite a few times)

i like to describe my process as building a tree. i write the core of it all first, one linear path, the trunk, and then i double back and add in all of the possible branches. it doesn't mean anything that i wrote the friendly, romantic variation of Clear's route first, it just allowed me to use that single variation as an anchor and build up around it without straying too far and losing the plot, hahahaha. i still sometimes stray a little too far... but it's fun that way. it was fun trying to figure out a way to make the rival route different, how to change it while still telegraphing the same overall ideas about Clear & her situation. it's also very frustrating, but it's all part of the process....

#i have no idea if this answers your question. LOL #one thing with writing interactive fiction and something with big variations #is just it really does take a lot of trial and error #again writing a lot of Hana's route but then stepping back and realizing it doesn't quite compare #when held up against the others & having to scrap a lot of it #it happens a lot even with minor things like basic choices #right before i finished V's route i had a huge pity moment where i was like wow this all fucking sucks. but then when i finished it #along with the council meeting and saw it all come together it was really satisfying #it's hard but it's rewarding when it all comes together in the end #not that i think the chapter is perfect by any means or anything lmfao but you know. In General #ask #anonymous

[uwoninternet]

I'm not nuts, okay?! (lyney x fem!reader)

Ok guys, this is my first time doing this...i mean, i always wanted to write a FanFiction but i didn't have the courage to do so😅

Sooo...i hope you guys aren't too harsh with me and to everyone that actually has written before, thanks guys! Everyone in general that likes to explore the world of FanFics, you guys are awesome and lets all have the brainrots together!!

Warning: this work is going to contain violence, spoilers of Fontaine Archon's Quest (If you did It, then you know what violence I'm talking about), gramatical mistakes (i tried my best to polish It, but english isn't my First language and i don't have a beta reader) and not intentional gaslighting.

Basically, you are the woman that is target at the twins show, but It a plot Twist.

Sumary: being an heiress is a lot more diffucult when you are being target by a murder with a thing for kidnnaping girls trouthg the years and everyone thinks you're nuts for trying to warn people. Ungrateful b*****.

Part 1.

(Just one last warning, in this isn't going to contain any romance yet, but reader does notice the twins and think They are charming. Just the next we are going to actually get close to that, thats why slow burn...Sorry guys)

This nighmare all started as you were returning from the vallies outside the city at night, clear skies and the stars keeping you company after a whole day of painting in the wild. Living a lavishe life of a classic Fountaine dream, being a heiress that could dedicate herself ALL day to what she wanted without having to think about working and enjoying each second of the day to yours whims- theres this day that you passed every minute possible in the Opera Epiclise just listening to opera!

You didn’t think It was necessary for someone to protect you- big mistake, now you recognize it.-, so for you it was simply a calming walk after a productive day, feeling the breeze in your hair. You didn’t need the money, but you always found entertaining to see people’s reactions to them, so selling a few to admirers always filled you with proudness.

The light’s of the city were tinkling and normally you would feel relaxed, but somewhere in your gut -deep inside your gut-, was a feeling of dread, anticipation that forced you to look at each window you passed in chance of seeing in their reflections If there was someone behind you. To calm the goosebumbs in your body, you started humming a little lullaby of your childhood, but It was for naughty, your eyes kept looking for something in the shadows and each hair of your body was standing.

When the almost silent click clack of shoes reached your ears from the alley in your right, you had just enough time to use the painting as a shield for your face -your spine tingling in fear. A big SPLASH sound echoing in your ears, before you force the painting in the face of your assaulter, beating them with It. They scream, a screech of a terrified soul.

You were just trying to be brave! You swear by the Archon!

But the second your wet painting touched the figure, they melted! Falling in the floor as water with just their clothes left behind.

After this you don’t remember much, somehow you got home when you woke from your trance, sneaky rays of daylight getting through the curtains to blind your eyes, your troath sore, cold sweat long dried in your whole body and your hands tied to the headboard. By the time you finally got your bearings, you discorvered you were branded crazy for going around screaming of an attempt murder, of melting people and that being related to the disappearance of girls through the years. Since, you know, night, girl, alone...you were a girl alone at night...It made sense, but still! People called you crazy, that the situation caused you so much stress you hallucinated of melting people, of fighting your assaulter with a painting that never existed!

That was just the start, for much as you try to tell, no one believes you! You entered in contact with a blond lady from an organization, Spina de rose or something, and as kind as she was ,you saw in her eyes, the pitying look...the pitying look for the artsy heiress that fell from grace as every newspaper liked to call you now.

But still, she was the only one that gave you the time of day. Even your mother has long given up in ‘entertaining’ you, now just trying to keep you in the house and calm.

Time passed, months had gone by, your story long forgotten by the whispers of the public. Still, your assaulter ...he died? If he did, How was that you still felt eyes following you?!

Blondie, Navia as she tried to tell you to call her -in your Head, she was blondie, it was easier to think of her for her strongest feature. -, were your only friend now, she didn’t let you investigate with her and her bodyguards since you were considered in a fragile state of mind... If you bite your tongue more, you would cut It off using only your teeth.

Blondie, angel on earth, insisted you should accompany her to a Magic show, living a bit of your old life, where you weren’t a crazy, fragile and traumatized girl. Opera Epiclise in its full glory in front of you, your body accessorized and clothed like old times instead of your ‘depressed’ style, as your mother dubbed them, your mother to your right and your friend to your left. If your mother wasn’t clenching your hand and you weren’t carrying an umbrella matched with a raincoat and a towel in your neck on top of your beautiful outfit, everything would seem like it was before.

The show is splendid! And the magicians! Both of them were so beautiful, you wish you could have met them earlier just so your old carefree self could try and make friends with them, maybe just to get to paint them while you...were still someone you were proud of being.

Ok...maybe, you are more interrested in their voices and beauty than what They are saying, but you swear its the artist in you talking....no, your cheeks aren’t blushing!

By the time the second trick starts, a shining light falls upon you, lyney’s melodic and cheerful voice asks you to participate, in entering a box and appearing out in a completelly new one, and It gets you feeling so happy that you wasn’t felt in so long- its been too long really.- , you don’t have to think, you jump from your sit, ready, more ready to a new experience than ever before. Your mother pulls your arm, mumbles for you to sit, maybe she’s angry or afraid for you, however when Navia gives an excited little laugh before gently taking hold of her wrist and talking to her in a low and kind voice- you can’t even hear them through the beating of your heart, rushing in excitment.-, she lets you go.

Entering the box, you look around.

The...dark, the dark and the cheering, remembers you of your early days in house arrest. The neighbors talking, endless talks with journalists, laughting and judging you!

You sigh, maybe being called crazy is affecting your mind more than you thought and the dark bring unfortune memories of melting people, when no longer a pair of brilliant twins, magic tricks, your mother warm hand on your hand and blondie’s surprises giggles that she tries so hard to hide to keep her reputation of a badass woman is there to keep your mind in peace. You pull the raincoat hood up and the towel on top of it, you don’t wish to feel fear, but...It calms your head, like a lucky charm.

The box trembles, you have to put your gloved hands in the walls to keep your balance,”What in the Archons name IS happening?” , you mutter and between numbers being chanted a silent Pop sound catches your attention before the damned SPLASH. Your towel! The raincoat! COMPLETELLY WET!

YOU KNEW! THE EYES THAT FOLLOWED YOU WEREN’T PART OF YOUR IMAGINATION! THEY HAVE THE GUTS TO TRY AND MELT YOU AGAIN! WHAT WERE YOU?! A PRIZED FISH OR HUNT THAT THEY WANT TO PUT IN THE WALL?!

An anger bloom in your heart, If these people took you for a coward then its finally time to put all the resent you felt for being branded crazy for months to work. Work in your fists, kicks and bites, you aren’t going to Go down without a fight!

The door open to a masked guy, big jester smile, to be met with your fist. The man shouts, be in surprise or pain you don’t have any fs to give, seeing an opening you put both your hands in the borders of the door and give ALL your juice into a powerful kick to his chest.

Your heart beats like a wild beast, you feel like one!

With the sound of chanting numbers and blood rushing in your ears the orchestra of this ‘act’ feels perfect, if the murderer thought this was gonna be your end then he’s in for a surprise!

You are fast to jump out off the box, still he recovers from your attack Just as quicklly and comes for you. You duck and use your shoulder to push him, he seems more ready as he also gives you a punch to the nape for your troubles. It throbs and you sure starts to see things with less clarity, from pain or your eyes tearing up a bit from your brain being treated like a rubber ball are a mystery to you.

He is stronger than you, but not as fast It seems, using your already lowered position you pull the dirtiest, most unlady like attack in the book and delivery a punch in between his legs. Not before he gives you more bruises to your back and head, tearing your towel away from you with some strands of your hair also being forced out, even with the protection of the raincoat.

He falls to the floor, his hands clenched in your clothes, or being specific, in your raincoat that you begrudgingly takes off to run away to the other side of the corridor. He shouts for you to stop, you don’t look back to know If he is already standing, you don’t care and your muscles pull in a way the haven’t in months, they burn so much you don’t know If you can take more out off you to fight.

Your hands start to tremble as well as your legs, your body is succumbing to fear or exhaustation, still you push yourself to climb the hand stair you find in the other side of the room. A hand clamps down your ankle and try to make you fall, even If your balance is disturbed you give a involuntary kick to the wall, your feet hurt like the Archon herself in bestowing a punishing upon you, but It seems that the same could be said for the guy’s fingers that were caught in between your ankle and the wall.

The stairs lead you to a small and dark room, you don’t give a second look before throwing the door open and in the time you have to give two steps away a lot of things happen. You don’t see, but the public gasps and applauds, fireworks starts going off, a hand shoots after you from the dark box and a freaking barril of glass filled with water starts descending upon it.

In a second, all its done, you are throw in the floor as if you were bowing in your knees to the audience, your body is numb but you know your back must be black and blue, your vision is ... You don’t know, but you can’t see right. With a blinding light focusing on you and the deafening silence, you give everyone a shaky smile and say “I was right”.

With various screams resounding in the theater, you rest your head in the floor. Is It water in it? Maybe there are still a piece of your old version in you, for now you feel like taking a nap.

You are so tired...

_______________________________________________

Fufufu~

That's It for now, i mainly wrote for myself, but i still wanted to share.

I'm New to Tumblr and It makes me feel like an old granny that doesn't know How to work with the internet, so...i'm being one now. I decided!

Take your treats, dears, and drink water!

Granny loves y'all, you fanfics readers.😘

#lyney x reader #geishin impact x reader #geishin lyney x reader #geishin impact lyney x reader #first time writing #slow burn

[balshumetsbaragouin]

It is finished! I'm so happy to post the last chapter and finish off my first long fic! Thank you to everyone who has joined me along the way and who left comments, kudos, bookmarks and subs! This has been a wild ride, so I hope you all enjoy the ending to the first entry in the Pestilence!AU trilogy. Inside, Danny and Valerie catch up after the harrowing events the day before, and Danny asks an important question...

One last time: Have a sneak peek for the dashboard!:

She landed a few feet from the bushes, not wanting to get twigs and leaves caught in the newly rebuilt engines of her hoverboard. She still missed her wings, flying was much more convenient and exciting with them, but after the curse left, so too did the ability to transform. She discovered her ability to interface and control with other technology diminished as well. It had been nice to control the systems inside Plasmius’ house, but she could at least enjoy the knowledge she’d crippled its defenses. She also missed the ability to create new weapons with a thought.

Still, having her mind be curse free and no longer subject to the whims of homicidal ghost hunting sprees definitely made up for it. She slid the armor back into place, the suit quieting to a hum in the back of her mind. Another change involved the suit being more silent. They could still communicate, she just seemed less opinionated. But, if the opinions she had shared were any indication, she tended towards the primal and vulgar anyway. She did not need dietary guidance or suggestions! Squirrels are filled with protein, so are rabbits. They were adorable woodland creatures and she was not a wild animal. They were not going to eat them. The suit didn’t seem particularly happy about it, but the grumbles settled out into gentle hisses. She didn’t try to take control anymore either, just gave suggestions about her diet and butted in about her social life. It was still weird, all things considered, to share her mind with a piece of tech, but what could she do? 

She walked into the park a few minutes early, preparing to settle in for the long haul. For all of his many virtues, Danny had never met a deadline he couldn’t dodge…except today, apparently. She walked into the park, ready to find a bench to relax on for the next fifteen to twenty, only to find him already inside and standing around looking for her. Ok, that’s a new one, Fenton. Agreeing to talk about his feelings and showing up on time, all without being reminded? He’d just opened a new chapter, or maybe just flipped to a new page. When she walked closer, she could see him shove a breakfast pastry in his mouth with one hand and check his phone with the other. On the bench near him sat a water bottle. He picked it up and started chugging the liquid inside. He’d definitely rushed here. “Hey Danny.” He started choking, and she rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I crept over here.”

“I’m used to sensing... Uh, hi Val.” He set the bottle down and waved. “You’re still feeling better, right?” He walked over to her, hands in his pockets, typical bright smile on his face. Like she hadn’t almost died yesterday, like he wasn’t always half-dead himself. 

#Danny Phantom #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #DP #DP Fanfic #Passion and Plasmatic Plague #PaPP #Balshumet's Baragouin #Chapter Twenty Four

[soranihimawari]

Promises on a Playground

Pairing: timeskip!ushiwaka x f!Olympian reader

Word count: 3.1+K

Warnings: none (?) an allusion to morning after

Rating: UWF (ushijima wakatoshi fluff)// sfw

Ushijima Wakatoshi, power server and ace canon of team Japan is seen at a bar in the middle of a club centric zone. It’s later than he thinks especially with the rest of the Adlers behind him. Tonight everyone in their roster is celebrating the redrafting of their teammates to the 2024 Olympic Games in Europe. Coincidentally, since his wrist accident during the off season happened early last year, this might be his second or third Olympics before officially playing a farewell season. He’s not getting any younger and his mother, bless Ushijima-sama, is praying he soon finds a person he loves just as fiercely as the sport he loves.

The club is hosting a private jazz lounge area so everyone can mingle with each other. Various players from the MSBY, Saõ Paulo, and even a few EJP Rajins are there too. All of them came back to celebrate their return to their national teams. All except Oikawa who is taking break considering he has his first child due any day now according to his private lifestyle socials media accounts. Iwazumi mentions he’ll be missing a few practices, but his best friend had named him godfather, so he’ll be in Argentina hoping to be the first to greet the his friend’s child before anyone else does. Upon hearing the news about how his old rival, nowadays isa soon to be parent, makes Japan’s canon a little, well, lonely.

Swirling the rocks glass in front of him, Ushijima thinks back about the random elementary school kid he hung out with at the jungle gym when he was nine just about to be ten. He takes a mighty sip, brandishing off the whiskey neat before ordering another one from the bartender wandering around the room. For whatever reason, he recalls his mother and granny asking the babysitter for his new friend’s phone number back then. His mother mentioned how shy and intimidating her son can be and the baby sitter introduces herself as a relative to the pair of older women.

“I’m yn’s aunt,” ushijima’s ears are sharp enough to hear that as his eyes look at you; you who dressed in overalls like him with light lilac puffy sleeves and even light sapphire hair talks about castles in the sky.

“Yn? How pretty,” Ushijima’s mother hums, eyes aglow when she notices her son curiously make a face at the chatter box you are.

You’re laying down cloud watching and before ushijima knows it, you entourage him to lay back and he watches them too. For a ten year old reserved child like him, the fact that you hold his hand like any best friend would, made his heart beat a bit quicker. So, after you’re called by your aunt to say your good-byes.

“I have to go,” you pout as he helps you sit up. A younger version of him just blinks as he feels this impending sadness in his chest--you were his first friend outside of his school; one where the classmates treated him as 'other' because of which hand was the most dominant, yet he didn't care what they called him behind his back then. You were a brilliant source of comfort for the last forty-minutes or so when you struck up a conversation with him at the top of the jungle gym. Your imagination made him a captain of a space cruier who on a whim, you choose to follow until you make it back to earth after a series of tag games. It's why you were on your back earlier, changing subjects about wondering if he'll be back tomorrow. Ushijima, the little kid he was back then, didn't know if he'd be back, so he just shrugs, unsure how to answer that.

“Wakatoshi! It’s getting dark, we should go too.”

“Mmhm,” he frowns. “Me too.”

You stand up when he orders his hand to help you up off the playground tarp.

“Y'know, it's ok if you're not here tomorrow Waka-kun." You hold his hand and give it a firm shake. Before you do truly part ways, you loop a pinky of yours around his. Looking dead straight in those childlike emerald stones of irses he had inherited, you raise your linked hands to each other's faces. "Meet me here when we’re in high school?” your odd request is met with a small sheepish smile.

“Five years from now?” he seems surprised.

“Yup! I’m sure you’ll be popular toshi-kun,” you had a slight smirk, giving his pinky a fateful squeeze before dropping it. “Don’t forget!”

A young Ushijima nods as you take off to the bench where your aunt was waiting before waving goodbye. His heart beat out of rhythm before he walked to his mom.

“Yn-chan is nice, hmm?”

“I guess,” her stoic son has a pout in his voice.

Mother holds her son's hand as they walk in the opposite direction where you and your aunt fade in the distance behind a neighboring street corner.

"Hey mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure. After your team practice is over, yeah?"

At this, Ushijima-sama looks at her boy who now has this cheeky grin tugging on his usually stoic straight lips as she just shakes her head in amusement.

It takes a few years of development and many Valentines confessions to realize Ushijima Wakatoshi had an after school playground crush on the elusive YLN,YN. Satori, one night in the dorms, bothers his fellow teammate to share former firsts—believe it or not your name is all ushijima can remember. Oh, and the fact you made him make a foolish promise of meeting at the same park now in the future was in fact an empty one. Although, one day right after graduation, Ushijima is hanging out with his new setter in the locker room for an extra practice. There is a tv with the news channels on with live coverage of the Sochi Winter Olympics that year. Lo and behold, you were a flag bearer for your home country with a summer sport under your name: Silver Medalist, WOMEN’S GYMNASTICS, 2016. You made the Olympic team before he and Kageyama did—you were one of the youngest to participate according to the announcers and god help Eros because Ushijima nearly lost his focus at extra practice that day. He almost didn’t return any of Kageyama’s servers.

Imagine how surprised you are as you’re invited by an old friend in the JVA to attend this gathering. You’re officially a three time medalist in individual rounds and even a two time gold medalist in team routines. Anyone who is an avid follower of your career record talks about you with pride in their smile. Well, it did help that your aunt was also your coach, but it also helped that for a while there, Karasuno also had an underground strong gymnastics team. No one ever heard about it until very recently when you named the high school and university you attended on invitational scholarship. Regardless, you greet Hinata who calls your name after you grab a champagne flute. You mingle your way over saying hi to everyone who stops you, saying your thanks and/or congrats to those who made the team. Again.

Hinata side hugs you, and you have hug a tipsy Kageyama, who leans on his former partner. Though they both blush at you greeting them, they also extend elated words you’re joining them in Europe for your respective sport. This time though, due to your physical therapy for a torn ACL right before World Championships, you are elected to be vice coach and spotter this term. You’re a little down, sure, but you wear it well as Kageyama saunters off to find the restrooms to relieve himself. Hinata says to follow him while he introduces you to the roster of players he’ll be reuniting with. Some you knew from coming to MSBY and Adler games, others you recognize from prior games like Aran-kun and Suna Rintaro. Names you wouldn't have recognized until it was Hinata who name dropped a few of them on your video calls when he was resigned to returning to Sao Paolo.

The last of these 'gentle monsters' as you tease them in saying is someone reminiscent of a child you made watch the clouds with you in your youth. Strength hidden underneath his semi formal wear sans sports coat, the young contemporary icon stifles a breath as you are introduced to each other again. This time, though, Hinata is called away by his former MSBY teammates thus leaving you and Ushijima to your own devices. For him, time slows as the small circle you’re surrounded by grows smaller. Soon enough, it was just you and him, filling each other with stories of growing up miles from each other, not even realizing you were rivals in volleyball come your high school years. Ushijima hums when you bring about that stunning block from a sarcastic kouhai back then, mentioning the city where that first year went on to play for an upcoming division one team. He tells you it’s old news especially when he sees how dedicated the others were to their craft. You and him reach for some hor d’oeuvres as the trays came around again.

“You never came back to the park where we met, Wakatoshi,” you say as you slide a few more mushrooms into your mouth. You swirl what’s left of your third sangria glad that night before downing it.

Ushijima is bewildered at your admission. Honestly, he forgot—he was ten! So were you, but friends don’t break promises no matter how old they are. You stifle a laugh as he blinks surprised by how sharp your memory is.

“I had a game, or was at practice…”

You nod. You too couldn't have made it every day for three years because you had practice to attend too, yet rain, snow, or sunshine didn't stop you. If you tell him that perhaps you might shoot your shot as Tsukishima would say. Hell, even when you texted the rest of your third years from Karasuno when you were invited to attend, Sugawara had the audacity to encourage you in attending. They all knew about the elusive kid you met in the summer right before you had started grade six: even they were surprised he turned out to be the captain of the powerhouse school who had been crazy enough to challenge Hinata Shoyo, 'from the concrete', once. You let that text memory die in the back of your mind while you went with the first option: guilt Ushijima Wakatoshi into liking your company like you were ten again. Fun fact: you didn't need to do that; he was already thinking of ways to get you to talk to himi long before you were standing side by side after you were reintroduced to each other.

“I spent three years, every summer break, curious about the kid I met back then. Kind and warm, like the fall breeze by the beach. Had an air of coolness from what i could tell too.”

You side eye him as he’s processing this information, what you seemed to have implied on yourself, turning on your heel after bidding him good night. Sauntering off, you find a few more familiar faces since you got the closure you didn’t know you wanted, but alas with your back to a different table this time, you’re approached by Ushijima. He’s a bit, intoxicated, you can tell by the way an alcohol blush tints his cheeks. The glass he had earlier was finished and replaced with another which was almost done by the time he walked over.

This was all thanks to Kageyama’s influence, after all the young setter went off on a hyper focused rant about how learning to love and earn love back helped his current relationship. Even if it was currently long distance. Flights from Italy to Brazil aren't really that cheap, yet for love of the sport and the man, Kageyama explains he makes it work. He has to because, according to the stubborn blueberry man, "love takes time to build, so seize the opportunity to love someone."

It was weird hearing this from his former Adler’s teammate, yet it makes sense as his eyes never wavered far from where you were talking-or was it flirting?-with other members of team Japan. Like how Miya Atsumu's eyes you when he hugs you with the widest grin on his face; or when Suna Rintaro chuckles as you see pictures of his baby nephews throw snowballs on a rice field in his hometown, drives Ushijima to give off Sakusa level warnings of backing off when he sees you interact with them.

Does it help that Ushijima felt a little jealous? No, why would it? You're laughing as Hinata sees the replay of Suna's nephews fight over Vabo-chan during the holidays last year as Ushijima walks over.

"Your nephews are so violent, but," you pause, handing the phone back to the middle blocker. "They do take after you and your bother, huh Miya?"

"Yeah, but 'Samu's kids are little terrors, but absolute angels when ya meet 'em," the blond says. Something about the way he sort of looks away from your face makes you wonder why you have this sneaking suspicion someone taller and more menacing than a house cat is lurking behind you. You shrug as Hinata glances over at the other two players across from where you stand and you can tell they are thinking of an easy way out of this conversation at this table as the jazz musicians take a break for a little while because right now, you feel a hand sneak it’s way around your waist.

"We're going to head back to the bar for some refills," Suna says taking your glass away from your hands. Your eyes watch Miya and Hinata scurry off before Suna gives a friendly, yet cold, warning look to the man who's standing like a guard dog behind you. Yellow-green eyes do not cower in front of the statuesque player who may or may not have been the reason you were still not seeing anyone as of late. (Suna means well, you know this as he was the first athlete in the off season to hang out with you regularly when you realize you went to the same all around gym by the EJP stadium. He's close enough to be family at this point, but young enough to know platonic love is the lane he needed to be in at this point in your life).

“Had enough?” you inquire as the others whom you were talking to waited for other beverages to be made. The perfume his designer had let him try gives of a scent of light cinnamon and earthy notes; it is faint on him, but to you when you lean back, it's a scent of comfort. It doesn't take a genius to see the comfortability around each other; it's enough that if the tabloids were here your 'snuggling' would break Twitter and the Adler's official accounts. That's a story for another time.

“Not yet,” his voice is rough, like he’s exhausted, but the way he says it as he pulls your hips back toward him, you almost choke on your own spit. Suggestive under the influence or not, you're not going to oppose if he invites you for a latenight hook-up; you're both grown enough to recognize this flirtatious dancing needs to come to a head.

However, the second Ushijima rests his head atop yours a moment savoring how you feel in front of him like this, is the few seconds it takes for you to relax further by reaching up and caressing his face. A sense of comfortability and spring like warmth spreads from soul outward. Your hand retracts just as he's about to lean into your palm, a pointed, peeved brow greets your peripheral as you rest the same hand on his arm. You're trying not to tease him further, but you do so in the most subtle of ways and it's driving him mad.

Perhaps you feel it too, judging by how his answer amplifies your rouge makeup, and so you lean more against his side like an old friend with the potential to become more. His lips were so close to the corner where yours began and if he caused you to turn just a little more toward him, Ushijima Wakatoshi would have unashamedly kiss you, publicly no less. Instead, you listen to how he breathes differently when you force him to sway with the band having returned to the small private clubroom stage. His voice begrundingly begging you to take the lead in carrying on whatever started here behind closed doors. And for what it’s worth, those that may have seen the exchange might have turned around would not believe how smitten the two of you are. 

"Y'mean to tell me I never had a chance?! Hinata," Atsumu squints at the blatant almost-couple across the other side of the bar. "Warn a guy before he flirts with Ushijima's lady."

"Oi! I didn't know they'd be like that 'Tsum!" Hinata whines. "But they do look happy, right?"

"Mm," Atsumu concurs by raising his refilled glass to where you are almost completely draped by the shoulders by Ushijima. "G'luck to 'em."

Meanwhile, after you had securely ducked under and over Ushijima's front side, you steadied him by holding his left arm on the side. He tilts his head down slightly to hear you clearer.

“We should head out,” you suggest. 

Your breath tickles the part of his upper arm where you lean against. You feel his chest rumble as you splayed a hand there to steady him when he nods apologizing for the drunken affection he’s giving. Not that you minded though. It’s not like you were waiting for almost a decade to see him this way, right?

Flash forward twenty-six minutes later and now you’re lip locked with this giant of a man who is and was still your first memory of a crush. This had started because once you kicked off your heels for the event, you glanced up at Ushijima standing there awkwardly in the foyer of his penthouse level hotel room: you choose to call out his name at first before taking his face in your hands and bringing him down to your level. Arms and hands from earlier grip the fabric of your outfit before you silently nod murmuring, "you can kiss me all you want here."

Now, Ushijima Wakatoshi, for all the years he's been visiting his father in the U.S., and from what his mother's dramas taught him about kissing has nothing compared to what kissing you had felt like. Nothing comes close to how his breathing is shallower the further you let him go without oxygen; the way one of your arms loop across his shoulder and the other with a gentle hand scratching his scalp the more you melt into him. You are like sunshine now and when you grant him reprieve from your kisses and those eyes that bewitched him stare back, sort of lackadaisical in a kiss drunk state.

"Been wanting to do that ever since you walked in," his voice has your back arch while he adjusts his hold. His nose nudges your cheek before acutely nipping the fat of your cheek there. You stutter forward perplexed by his quite frank neediness. Your hips almost touch, and when you feel Ushijima's soft chuckle against your ear he gives you a word of advice. "Patience."

Minutes later, Ushijima has you raised on the dresser in his hotel room, half undressed as your hands have undone several of his buttons. This time, he kisses you with a sense of urgency; his heart is suddenly picking up pace as is yours the further you sigh out his name when he marks your skin with his teeth and suckling lips. The dresser moves as you try to follow his eagerness to have you-all of you. His hands, feeling hotter than ever before, he uses one to support your back, whereas the other slips under your thigh and drags you forward with such a start, you moan his name into his mouth. He looks wide-eyed at you, not caring how you sort of have this embarrassed smile on him.

"Don't stop saying it," he snarls into your mouth. The dresser softly bangs back against the wall.

"Wakatoshi!" you whisper yell and you shake your head at how content he laughs into your neck.

"Hmm?" he kisses your collarbone.

"Gently this time," you instruct him. Ushijima acknowledges your advice, yet he's thoroughly thinking of other noises your voice can do

However, you choose to focus on something else: like how you got here to this point as you're given a chance to catch your breath. Almost half dressed by the man in your arms. It's not that you care about what you thought earlier that day when Hinata and Kageyama sent you texts inviting you out for drinks at the club; you just didn’t think this was the reconnection you needed to have with someone you met almost fifteen years ago when you were in primary school (you both were ten).

Not that any of that preemptive thoughts matter, not now anyways as you allow yourself to be loved by someone who is as strong to stand by you–lords of fate above, the truth you share as Ushijima rolls his shirt off his body. You can't help but stare unabashaedly at him, tanned through the years, sweet eyes boring into yours as you whisper where the zipper is on the side of your attire.

"Are you sure?" Ushijima's mighty hands find the hook-and-eye attachment on the zipper track. Your hand closest to where his is rests atop his wrist.

"If you think I'm going to hit and run on you," you help him drag down the zipper. "You don't know me at all."

Your clothes slide off as easily as the rest of his does. Though now you're both in less clothing as you let him continue showing his appreciation in having you wait for such a long time. It's not either of your first times in bed with another person, yet you know you'd have to be impervius of affection if you think with the way he cares for you afterwards is nothing less than a princely pauper's care is something out of a fairytale.

Ushijima settles in bed beside you as you wear an old traveling shirt of his after cleaning up.

"I take it we're together now, huh?" you are so cheeky as he rolls his eyes at you.

"I suppose it depends, yn," he replies.

"On what?"

"Whether or not you want to join me for breakfast tomorrow."

You nod enthused by his subtlety. A few moments pass by and as you begin to give sleep a chance, Ushijima pulls you closer to his shoulder, an arm of his cradles your head steady against him. Sobriety at this time of night makes him thank his stars you're here, asleep next to him. You shift in your sleep a couple minutes later and he hears you, murmuring a quiet, 'don't forget me' which if he was being honest with himself, he would have woken you up with an incredulous look of 'how did I?'

Come four in the morning, you're jostled awake by the remembrance of this not being your hotel room. You are able to recall meeting Hinata and Kageyama at the club; seeing and possibly reconnecting in more ways than one with Ushijima Wakatoshi, who is asleep behind you now. You're wearing his shirt, you feel an ache between your thighs and you're suddenly dragging a hand over your face before a chortle escapes your lips. No wonder your aunt was so adamant about you not trying to settle down until after your final Olympic Games after this one in Paris--you're going to have to sever the thought because of the man whom is now going to be keeping your bed warm will be the one you hope to settle with. Not because you both wanting to 'settle' no, because you two are learning how to keep a promise of love and friendship afloat. More so now the love had warped into one of a more romantic nature. You ponder this while tracing over his features with the calloued pads of your own hands from years of the gymnast powder used on them.

“You should go back to sleep, my heart,” his voice is even more gruff when you’re in a groggy mindset. He probably doesn't register what he said, but the moment he echoes what you said in your half-dreamlike state you lower yourself back whispering against his lips how you're not leaving him; you couldn't even if you tried. He seems to like that, smirking as he kisses your shoulder.

You chuckle turning over to face him now; slowly tracing his strong arms that wrap around your waist as they pull you closer to him like earlier. You readjust your body to lean against his sturdy self again just to press a kiss to the space between his eyebrows as he hums nudging his forehead against your own. Silently in this room just as your eyes flutter shut, you tell him how you can't wait for what tomorrow holds for either of you. For now, you both head back to sleep in the arms of the first real love you had found.

Perhaps now your younger selves all those years ago are laughing on the playground where a promise is fulfilled.

#ushijima wakatoshi x gymnast!reader #olympic bound au #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sfw fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader

[attemptinghaikyuu]

A little bit of writing for that sinful writing prompt (EXCEPT NO NSFW, ONLY FLUFF)

15 - “the nights definitely not over yet.”

He was staring at you.

He was staring and you could not focus on your puzzle. It was getting ridiculous. You’d asked Suna if something was wrong five minutes ago and he’d said no without hesitation or any type of teasing. So you’d shrugged off his insistent eye contact.

You had a puzzle to finish after all.

The eyes boring into you however, made doing that a very difficult task.

You flipped a purple piece in your hand, one you’d been trying to place for awhile now, annoyance and something else growing in you as the staring continued. Hoping that if you could find the pieces place, the frustration and nervousness bubbling below your surface would quiet down- you valiantly narrowed your eyes at a section that might fit your piece.

With an intake of breath, you set the piece down to see if it would fit.

You threw your hands up as your hatred for this puzzle grew, the piece did not find its snug place between three similar colored pieces.

With a growl, you stood up and walked away. From all the terrible feelings you had stuck inside of you.

And the puzzle too.

You picked up your pace when you realized your friend had decided to follow you out of the room, his snickers clear as a bell. You weren’t sure of your destination, it hadn’t mattered when you’d stood up moments ago. The idea had been to get away from what was overwhelming you.

But part of the problem was following you out.

And he was seriously laughing at you. Well, fine then. If that’s what he wanted to do he could do it. He could stare with no reason, other then the desire to get under your skin and he could laugh at your temper to worsen it.

Making it impossible to complete your puzzle from his distractions though?

You’d had enough of his little whims tonight.

“Suna!” You cried it out, spinning around with a scowl on your face.

He said your name with a lazy smile spreading over his face. He was enjoying this dammit.

“Suna,” you tried again. “I’m taking a break.”

“From your puzzle? Yeah, I noticed.”

His brow was up in a mocking question and you couldn’t help your eyes narrowing in response to it. Usually, you’d banter with your friend. You loved it normally.

The way your heart had begun to stutter in response to his voice, stopping altogether on some occasions, was too much to handle right now. You were having trouble keeping your friendship together when all you wanted to do was avoid him.

“Yes from the puzzle,” you started, feeling your resolve harden when his smile grew. “and also from you.”

The smile dropped away instantly.

You turned and continued walking, trying in vain to ignore the shadow following silently behind you. It kept on like that till Suna broke the silence between you.

“What’s wrong?”

It was a simple question, it shouldn’t have made your throat close up. You felt stupid when it did.

You didn’t answer him. It was easier to keep walking.

This didn’t last long. A hand on your shoulder stopped you from your trekking onward. Your name fell softly between you both.

“Come on, please,”

His voice was filled with an emotion you were scared to look closely at. Frustrated to identify for fear you might get it wrong.

“Did I do something?”

That struck you. Startled, you turned to Suna, wanting him to know he was fine over your feelings winning out.

“No,” you reassured, laying a hand on top of Suna’s, still on your shoulder. He looked at your touching hands and suddenly you were panicking.

You pulled away quickly, “you know what, I think I’m gonna quit on that puzzle. I need to get home I think.”

“Hold it.” Suna grabbed onto you and pulled you back to him.

“You’ve been working on that stupid thing for ages,”

You frowned at the word stupid and you knew Suna caught it when you were pulled in a little closer.

“You want to finish it, and I’ll help out ok?” It was said as a fact, and almost as an afterthought he added “the nights definitely not over yet, so don’t leave till it is.”

He had trapped you. Your heart was doing loops and you couldn’t seem to find the word no. So you gave in to the yearning you couldn’t seem to bury.

“Fine Suna, but helping means moving the pieces and not staring at me…”

He smiled and gave the side of your head a flick as he started walking back.

“Sure, but it might be hard.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #fluff #haikyuu suna #suna rintaro #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader #wowza this was fun <3 #if anyone wants me to write anything else send in a number and character

[soleilnomoon]

supplicate ; zoro x reader.

2.4k words, fem reader (no pronouns), nsfw babey, 18+ mdni, a lot of angst bc that's the shit i like ok (feat. a bit of alcohol, fingering, etc. etc. etc. u get the gist). this took forever, but it's finally done, the long awaited sequel to "excessive" *washes hands*

previous ⤹

fragmented moments accumulate over time, leaving bitterness and desperation in its wake. a path of destruction that you willingly walk in order to preserve what’s left of your pride. hours slip through your careless fingers. days coil themselves individually around your neck, tightly squeezing, sleep evading you night after night. weeks leave you with dark circles underneath your eyes that you don’t bother concealing anymore. it’s all the same. you, with ink-stained hands holding onto empty quill bottles, ripped pieces of parchment littered around your room — the pieces full of impalpable scribbles, doodles, and rants — crumbled pages tossed haphazardly on the hardwood floor, a bottle of wine you don’t remember drinking standing upright near the leg of your desk, your half-eaten dinner no longer appealing as you contemplate what to do.

 it’s futile — 

this search for absolution to a sin you don’t regret committing. 

guilt finds a way back into your heart all over again; with trembling arms, you welcome the pain in the hopes that you’ll finally find some form of freedom from it all. 

months pass and pass and nothing’s changed.

he’s made an impossible decision. respecting your space is the least he can do — he’s quite good at feigning indifference, at steeling himself to fleeting feelings, at ensuring that no one penetrates the walls he’s spent years building. 

at dinner he chooses the seat that’s the furthest from you, keeping to the far back wall, hoping the distance will do him some good — and, still, he thinks, it’s not far enough.

what he needs is a new continent, more oceans, possibly another planet or two. anything to stay away — anything to not have to look at you, to not have to bear witness to your slow descent into sorrow. if anything, he’s doing you a favor.

except, it doesn’t feel that way.

you do your best to feign interest in conversation with the others, try to offer lighthearted jokes and comments; sanji prattles on and on about a new recipe he wants to try, usopp regales everyone with tales of some false sea voyage he claims to have been a part of, luffy inhales nearly everything he can get his hands on, and yet—

you’ve never been so impossibly aware of another person’s presence. even though you don’t look his way, you feel his gaze on the side of your face. an itch underneath your skin, one you can’t ever hope to reach. it travels all over, rattling your bones, tugging on your heart, muddling your thoughts, blindsiding your reason — you have to count slowly to calm your nerves. on a whim, while the others are distracted, you chance it, swirl your wine in your glass and sip slowly, eyes drifting his way.

because life is ironic at the most inconvenient times, he catches you. the moment prolongs because you can’t seem to look away. too afraid to blink, too afraid to look away. is this it? is there nothing to be done or said? the glass of whiskey grows heavy in his hand, but it’s not enough to give him that sort of blind courage.

the wine is tart, somewhat sweet, clings to your tongue, loosening it as you go for a third glass. dessert is served but you don’t stay. you feign sleepiness, not able to bear the heaviness of his gaze any longer. with flushed cheeks and a head full of increasingly distracting thoughts, you make your way back to your room. the wine is long gone, the glass left somewhere long forgotten as you pad through the corridors, light on your feet, as if you don’t want to disturb the silence on this floor of the ship.

it’s not until you’re in front of his room that you realize you took a completely different flight of stairs, that you bypassed your room entirely, and while you have enough time to turn back around you hesitate.

why? the question sits in the back of your mind, fermenting slowly, the answer plain as day, you simply don’t want to acknowledge it.

after a minute of silent contemplation, you take a step back, only to find that you’ve collided with a much larger, firmer body behind you. there’s no need to apologize or to guess who it is, because you’re more in tune with him than you ever want to admit.

it’s not the whiskey that compels him to speak, but an absurd, yet resolute desire to know, “what are you doing here, y/n?” curiosity mixed with doubt douse his words, make you swallow back the lies that build on the back of your tongue. pressing your back against the door, you try again, hands nervously playing with the ends of your hair. 

“i…,” you lick your lips, unsure of how to proceed, your heart pounding loud enough to drown out your thoughts and whatever else zoro says to you. everything about his presence commands your attention, so you’re unable to look away from him. there’s something about the way he looks at you, like you’re complicated, an enigma, and a blessing all at once. 

you wish you had a fourth glass of wine.

“i’m waiting,” he says patiently, and somehow this rattles you even more. he’s waiting? what about all of the waiting you’ve done? the thought alone pisses you off, forces you to forget whatever demure attitude you were touting previously so that you can place a hand on his chest and shove as hard as you can.

“don’t bullshit me.” you regard him coolly, face burning — from the wine, the proximity, your misplaced anger, you’re not quite sure — hands balled into fists. “is that all you have to say to me?”

his confusion invades every crevice of his body, but it gives him time to come up with what he deems is an appropriate enough response. 

“no.” 

succinct. in bad taste, perhaps. and not exactly what you want to hear. the hand you so boldly placed on his chest is now cradled in his. rough, calloused fingers touch the inside of your wrist, move to your palm and stroke once, twice, three times. adagio; the only tempo that you both seem to excel at. eyelids lowering, you don’t waste time asking why, your hand simply curls around his fingers, halting his movement entirely. 

if he continues like this, you might not be able to function properly in front of him.

“please,” you say, voice soft enough to rouse something suspiciously close to affection deep within him. “please, i just can’t—” a single tear cascades down your cheek; whether it’s due to sorrow or want, you’re not sure.

possibly both at this point.

not inherently cruel by nature, he obliges. once, he tells himself, just once. once is all it will take; one time to get it completely out of his system, to get you out of his head; maybe if he indulges, he’ll be able to finally move on. except, it won’t really but just one time, will it? you both know that, the truth putting you in a daze, one that is tricky enough to hold you hostage; rather than delay the inevitable, he gives in. 

you’re still pleading with him when he gingerly kisses the center of your palm, still pleading when he brushes his lips against yours; his kiss is warm, firm, debilitating. your pleas drown in the midst of a revitalized surge of adrenaline that pumps through you when his teeth graze against your bottom lip — a nip, a tug, a pinprick of pain. a sense of urgency claims your common sense; avarice, gluttony, lust; a kaleidoscope of sensations, all compel you to kiss him again.

he tastes like whiskey — smoke and spice; intoxicating and forbidden. you remind him of an elusive, recurring dream, the wine still sweet on your tongue, his fingers thread through your hair; an attempt to ground himself as he consumes you in the only way he knows how. there’s nothing tender about any of this, but you take each bruising kiss of his, each caress of his tongue, the sinister way your legs give in would be comical if the situation wasn’t so dire.

there’s a flame growing within you, one that matches his; if you pay attention carefully, you’ll find that they’re nearly identical. 

when he releases you, it’s only so he can reach around and open the door; a thick haze coasts around your mind, you make your way into his room with little issue, which pleases him immensely. he hates having to waste time explaining things. as a reward, zoro is on you again, foot kicking at the back of his door to close it, his hands exploring the curves along your body as he places kiss after kiss down your throat, tongue gliding along the skin. insatiable and troublesome — that’s what he is.

but, that’s not what comes out of your mouth when he sucks on your skin. you moan his name, quietly at first, hands working to rid him of his clothes as he does the same for you. his body is far from a work of art — it’s an immersive experience. feverish and possibly delusional, you wrap a hand around his cock, pumping slowly, his thick length hardening even more under your touch. he’s kept it together for so long, he’s at his breaking point now.

pre-cum trickles out of his slit, your thumb swiping at it absently; you lick it off, enjoy the slightly salty taste, the look on his face only tells you one thing — you’re in for a ride.

zoro pushes you onto his bed and follows suit, hovering over you as he kisses you fervently, tongue brushing against yours, your hips lifting as an ache settles deep between your legs. he pushes your legs apart, fingers dipping in between the folds of your pussy, your arousal greeting him like an old friend. your moans give him all the incentive he needs to slip his fingers inside of you; you relish in that delicious pain, inhaling deeply as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, the pace setting your skin and soul on fire. he scissors his fingers, your hips buck up against his hand. you’re warm and tight around him, just how he expects you to be — and while he wants to take his time, while he wants to taste you more, while he wants to see you slowly unravel, he can’t. his need for you is too great, he’s wasted enough time playing the role of a jaded ex-lover, despite not actually being your lover. yet.

you don’t mind, though; after he pulls his fingers out of you, you rub your pussy against the length of his cock, and earn a quiet moan from him; his grip on your thighs is firm enough that he might actually leave bruises once he’s done— but you’re far too concerned with having him inside of you to care. and when he rubs his tip against your needy entrance, when you arch your back, whine, scratch his chest, pleading over and over for him to stop teasing you, zoro finally slips inside of you, burying his length in one go.

he pulls back only to slam his cock inside of you again, setting a devastating pace as he fucks you. his lips latch onto your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, your moans increasing in volume as your hips roll against his. if this is a dream, you never want to wake up; the sheer power behind his thrusts is enough to have you roll your eyes back, nails digging into his skin along his upper back, legs wrapped around him in an attempt to keep him close to you. he’s never felt the need to be this rough with you, but the way your pussy keeps clenching around him, the way your moans grow breathier with each passing minute, the way you arch into him, as if there’s no other place you’d rather be than here with him.

it’s almost too much to handle; but he soldiers on, he has his pride to consider, after all.

you drop kisses along his jaw as his thrusts grow wilder, a little ferocious, every bit as maddening as you thought they’d be. your pussy is the closest he’ll get to heaven, and he has no intention of turning back. he grabs your legs, drapes them over his shoulders, and angles his hips so that he can fuck you deeply.

if you thought you knew pleasure before, you were wrong; so very, very wrong.

this, you tell yourself, this is all i’ll ever need.

it’s a half-truth you don’t mind admitting. your voice grows hoarse, he doesn’t bother shushing you, and you know that your crew mates have probably all heard the lascivious way you keep calling out his name — the way you keep telling him to fuck you harder, the way his balls loudly slap against your ass, pussy making impassioned, lenocinant noises. the sound makes your skin flush, but it all feels so damn good, you can hardly stand it.

it’s when he gives you another toe-curling, highly indecent thrust, when he moans your name in your ear, muttering filthy praises right after, that pushes you over the edge. you cum  loudly, messily, and with a lot of vigor. he’s actually impressed, even as his cock keeps plunging into you, wanting to prolong his own release for as long as he can.

your orgasm feels never-ending; even after he gives you sloppy tongue kisses, even after his own orgasm nearly blinds him, his cum spilling inside you, thick and hot. you’re both sweaty by the time you finish, breathing heavily, your own heart threatening to leap out of your chest with how fast its beating.

is it possible to faint from happiness? you’re quite sure it is, because it’s almost as if a weight has been lifted, that uncertainty and unease you felt for months has diminished entirely. on impulse, you kiss him, hands cradling his face, the intimacy making him pause only briefly, but he keeps kissing you slowly, pulling his cock out of your pussy’s tight embrace, wanting to savor whatever this is for as long as he possibly can. you know things will only become more complicated as time goes on, but at the very least, you can say that it wasn’t one-sided, that he wants you just as much — if not more — as you want him.

it’s a comforting thought, to say the least; one that will rest inside of you for years to come. you’re in too deep to want to go back to how things were, and, maybe it’s a bit of wishful thinking on your part, but you’re sure it’s the same for him too.

#i'm...finally done jeez #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece smut #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro smut #all in all much tamer than i anticipated but also zoro is a mess when it comes to expressing himself what can i say #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #(probably not) #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro smut

[findmeabowlofundertale]

UUUUUGGGHHHHH OKAY! PART 8.... point one. 8.1. Tumblr says I have too many text blocks so this is gonna be in two parts. hhh. 8.2 will be up shortly. [Prev] [Next]

This begins immediately following the last part. Like, immediately following.

There's a lot to say about this whole part, actually...

Firstly, that Asteri's friends have characteristics taken from my two closest friends irl, BUT!! They are NOT them. So, uh, if my irl friends ever see this, hey, just letting you guys know that for all the similarities, Asteri isn't me and these guys aren't you, so this isn't like... truly reflective of our actual friendship. I needed some conflict, and this was how it worked you with these characters I made up that borrow some traits from you guys!

Second, Asteri's got a lot going on. Just... putting that out there.

Third, one of those irl friends really does say "nonetheless" almost every time she trails off so that's in here as a speech quirk bc I think it's funny

Fourth, uhhhhhhhh I continue to have bad pacing. But too bad. I worked really hard on this so even though I know it's not great, I'm not going to be ashamed.

Fifth...... get ready for some emotional discussion. Read this when you have a lot of time, because there's a LOT, and it gets h e a v y.

OKAY HAVE FUN

- - - -

She wanted him to stay.

Comforting soup and good laughs aside, at the end of the night she was still afraid of that darkness. There was no possible way it could “get” her— she couldn’t have reached that place-between-places even if she wanted to— but it was a deeper, primal terror:

She didn’t want to be alone.

But she wouldn’t ask that of him. There wasn’t even a place for him to sleep. She, at least, could shift her magic around to fit somewhere; he was stuck being that tall. No, she wouldn’t ask him to stay, and he wouldn’t offer, but they both wondered if the other would mention it or if they should say something after all. But at the end of the night, neither did. He checked that she was alright and promised to be over at a moment’s notice if she texted him. She thanked him again for everything, and stood on her toes to tap their heads together, and failed to notice that he didn’t move away when she did, and she told him to be safe and text her when he got home. She watched him leave and waved and smiled reassuringly at him before watching him disappear with an unexpectedly silly noise and a dark blur.

And then she curled up in bed with all the lights on, tail tucked tightly around her, and stared at her phone to wait for his text. When it came through she breathed a sigh of relief and wished him goodnight, but then kept staring at the screen hoping he would say something else so she had a reason to stay awake. He wouldn’t, though, and didn’t, and so she just laid there until exhaustion forced her eyes closed.

She dreamt of the blue ceiling stars in their black rock, never moving from their places, always guiding the way home.

⁂

The next morning, she felt a lot better, but she still wished somebody were there with her. Unfortunately, of all her friends, she was the only one who didn’t live in the capital; nobody was close enough to come visit her on a whim. Even so…

She sighed and rolled over, reaching for her phone with her tail and typing out a message with a materialized hand.

Hey, good morning. Do you work today? <

It wasn’t until several minutes later that she got an answer.

> Ohayo! =^.^= (Thats good morning) no work today, just class > why? Did u get more of the japanese figured out??

Asteri sighed.

No, sorry. Not much more beyond what we worked out last time. <

> oh np > What’s up then?

Just wondering if you were busy. No worries. Have a good day at school! <

> oh… ok! Thanks!

Maybe she should try…

Are you guys busy today? Wanna hang out? <

Within moments, there was a response.

> Omg, YESSS! > Asteri! Finally! > I have today off, so we can meetup whenever

Wanna come over now? < I’ll make breakfast <

> Ough, you live so far away, though. You don’t want to meet somewhere instead? I could just do with some company. Idk if I’m up for going anywhere. I had a day yesterday. < > Omg? Are you okay?

Yeah I’m fine. Just… idk <

> That’s okay, gurl. We all get that Funk.

I appreciate it. <

> I have to help my brother with something, then I’ll come over. Maybe more like brunch? > If that’s okay??

Yeah that’s fine! I’ll make pancakes <

Sembie, you’re also welcome to come, even if it’s later <

> Unfortunately I’m busy until after that, but I’d really like to see you guys.

You can come by whenever! <

Rather than wait for them to arrive before getting started, Asteri rolled out of bed and got ready for the day so that she could get cooking. Pancakes were always a solid choice. She made whipped cream, cut up some fruit, and then prepped everything else. Once Kelinn text her that she was leaving, Asteri meant to start on the pancakes, but she had gotten distracted looking over her and Alphys’ notes on Japanese and lost track of time. Before she knew it, Kelinn was at her door.

“Ah crap,” she muttered when she heard the knock. She almost tripped over the chair in her haste to get to her feet. When she answered the door, she knew she looked frazzled but smiled hospitably anyway. “Kelinn! Hey! You’re here.”

“Yeeeaaaah!” the other woman cheered. “It me!”

Asteri blew a laugh through her nose at the wording. Together, the three of them were much more casual in their speech than she was with anyone else. With Alphys, who was still in college and therefore barely out of stripes, she wanted to look like a composed, has-her-life-together adult monster. With Gaster, a lot of her formality of speech stemmed from the fact that many of their conversations were spent on academic topics, so naturally she more easily defaulted to more formal grammar. Not that the way she behaved around either Alphys or Gaster was an act, or fake somehow. It was just different aspects of her personality.

“Come on in. I got distracted, so breakfast isn’t ready.” Asteri gave a grumbling sigh as she led her friend inside. “I had everything all prepped! And then got distracted.”

“Pfft, that’s fine.” Kelinn tossed her things on the living room couch and followed the shapeshifter to the kitchen. “It gives Sembie more time to get here.”

“That’s true,” Asteri conceded as she poured ingredients into a large bowl of flour. “There’s not much to do except mix everything and cook it, so you’re welcome just sit and do whatever.”

“Awesome.” The draconic monster had already made herself comfortable at the table anyway. “So, what’s up? You said you had a day yesterday. Or, do you not wanna talk about it until Sembie gets here? Not sure if you saw the group chat, but she said she was leaving about 10 minutes ago.”

Asteri shrugged. “We can talk more after Sembie gets here, I guess.” Sembie tended not to jump to conclusions as quickly, and helped balance Kelinn’s excitability. “Anyway, what’s been up with you? Is your brother alright? You said you had to help him with some stuff.”

Kelinn heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh. “UGGGH! Don’t even get me started.” She got started anyway. “Okay so here’s the low-down…”

Asteri listened as her friend told her about the mishaps of her brother and his kids, and that ongoing saga. The conversation eventually turned to lighter things, and by the time Asteri was finished cooking, they were busy talking about her friend’s novel that she was writing. Considering the distance from the capital and how long cooking had taken, they opted to wait a little longer to eat, until Sembie arrived.

They didn’t have to wait much longer, fortunately. When their ferret friend got there, they greeted her and ushered her to her seat so that they could eat already. It was almost noon, and all of them were hungry.

They made pleasant conversation and caught Sembie up with the goings-ons of Kelinn’s life, until eventually the conversation came back around to Asteri.

“So, see any more of the Royal Scientist?” teased Kelinn around a mouthful of pancake.

Their disbelief was getting annoying. Asteri looked her dead in the eye. “He was here last night.”

Her friend choked.

Asteri quickly clarified. “He walked me home after we got donuts.”

“Aw, that was sweet of him,” said Sembie.

“Wait, you actually believe that?” guffawed Kelinn.

“There isn’t any reason for her to lie. But nonetheless…”

Kelinn made a face. “I guess so.” She leaned her chin in her hand. “At least tell me he’s been treating you right.”

Asteri rolled her eyes. “We aren’t dating. We’re friends. But yes, he’s very kind, very considerate. Just a little absent-minded.”

“I still cannot believe you accidentally ran into him and then somehow started to just. Hang out.”

“Honestly, neither can I,” admitted Asteri around a bite of food.

Sembie spoke next. “So like, what kind of stuff do you guys do? Just talk, or do you have, you know, hobbies in common…?”

Kelinn gestured wildly until she had chewed enough to talk. “You think the Royal Scientist has time for hobbies???”

Sembie shrugged. “He’s got time to walk Asteri home on a weekday. Nonetheless…”

Kelinn narrowed her eyes and leaned her head back. “This is true…” she conceded, stroking at her chin and looking back and forth between them like she was a noir detective.

Asteri blew a laugh out her nose. “We usually go for a walk around Hotland and talk about linguistics or science, then go our separate ways home. Occasionally, we’ll go somewhere else. I’ve had him and another mutual friend, a lizard monster named Alphys, over here a few times. Yesterday, I agreed we could get donuts because he’s actually been eating real meals all week, for once. Like I've been telling him to.”

Her two friends looked at each other, then her, and giggled. “Wow, you’re really close, huh?”

She made a face. “What? No, we’re not... that close. I just…” Know that he doesn’t eat well so I make him sandwiches sometimes, and we meet up almost every week, and I told him about my insecurities growing up, and I probably know more about skeletons than almost anyone alive at this point, and he’s been to my house and destroyed my kitchen, and he showed me his SOUL, and I’ve told him about my parents, and he’s told me about his magic, and we can talk for hours and hours, and he knows I like lemon donuts best, and I know he likes the ones with sprinkles, and he saw me at my worst last night and took care of me, and…

“You take care of me too.”

She swallowed. “W-Well… I guess we have gotten a little close.”

Kelinn looked at Sembie. “We gotta meet this guy.”

“We’re not dating!! I’ve known him like, six months!”

“No,” said Sembie, more gently. “But you care about him. I’m not saying like that! But nonetheless, you do care.”

“Well… yeah. He’s my friend,” Asteri muttered into her glass of water.

“And that’s great!” Sembie encouraged. “It sounds like you guys must get along if you keep meeting up.”

“But AS your BEST friends!” Kelinn declared, “We gotta give him the what’s what!”

“The… what’s what?”

“Yeah!” She slammed her fist into her other hand with a big grin. “Gotta make sure he’s up to snuff!”

Asteri giggled. “Who even says that?”

“Us!”

“You,” corrected Sembie.

“Me! I say it!”

They all laughed.

“Well, alright. He doesn’t really like big groups, and you’re… a lot, Kelinn,” Asteri pointed out, “but I’ll ask him when he’s free to meet you. And you guys have got to update me on your schedules.”

They did so, and Asteri put a note of it in her calendar. The conversation settled, a little, and they went on to ask about other things she and Gaster had done. She didn’t mention the thing with green magic, or the teleporting, but she did tell them about some of her thoughts about speech and text magic, which they didn’t fully grasp but listened anyway because they loved her. They were always good about that.

⁂

“So why did you want company?” Kelinn asked from where she sat still at the table.

Sembie looked up from putting a plate away. “Yeah, you said you had a day yesterday, but then said you went out with Dr. Gaster yesterday…”

“Oh.” Asteri turned her head, a little farther than looked normal, to look at them while she did the dishes. “Oh, no. He- He didn’t do anything.”

Not on purpose, anyway. They wouldn’t understand, and his being able to teleport wasn’t her secret to share, so she couldn’t explain.

“Okay," Kelinn yielded, still a bit dubious. "But if he ever makes you uncomfortable—!!”

“He hasn’t,” Asteri reassured them both quickly. The SOUL thing was more that she wasn’t used to seeing someone else’s, and his ribs naturally had gaps. Yesterday it was just misunderstandings in the donut shop, she wasn’t uncomfortable uncomfortable.

“We trust you," Sembie said placatingly. "But we still want to meet him.”

“That’s fair,” Asteri conceded.

Kelinn shoved her last forkful of pancakes and whipped cream into her mouth before rising and handing the plate off to Asteri, and squinted in thought. After she finished chewing, she asked, “Hey what’s his name, anyway?”

Asteri made a face at the soap bubbles. “What? What do you mean? You know what his name is.”

“No, his first name.” Asteri looked at her, blank. She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, everyone knows he’s “Dr. W.D. Gaster.” But what’s the W.D. for??”

“I… I don’t actually know,” admitted the shapeshifter with a half shrug. “I just call him Gaster. That’s what he asked to be called.”

Sembie raised an eyebrow from where she was helping rinse and dry the dishes. “You’ve been friends with him for how long now, and you don’t know his first name?”

“A few months… and no, but listen!” Asteri frowned a little and stood straighter to explain. “Skeletons’ given names are their fonts; Whatever font they speak in naturally, that’s what their name is. And he—”

“Wait doesn’t he like, not talk?” Kelinn interrupted.

“He signs,” Asteri confirmed. “That’s what I was about to say.”

“So does he just not have a first name?? Or what??”

She huffed at her friend. “Kelinn! It’s not my business. If that was something he wanted to share, then he would.”

“But aren’t you curious?”

“Of course I’m curious,” she huffed. Her frown deepened as she looked to the dragon monster again. “But if he can’t talk, don’t you think it’d be pretty rude to ask him what he’s “supposed” to sound like??” Kelinn was silent, so she continued. “It’s a lot more than just his name. It’s an identifier, a description. I mean, no, it’s not like there was a class system based on fonts—” Besides that one exception he had never elaborated on— “and your font didn’t define your personality or anything, but…” Ugh, how to explain this! Asteri blew a frustrated breath through her nose. “Something that personal isn’t my business. If he wanted to share that, then he would! But he hasn’t, so I’m certainly not going to ask. Who, if anyone, he entrusts that piece of himself to is up to him. So for the love of God, when you meet him, please do not ask him about it.”

Both of the other women were silent at first. A few moments passed with only the sounds of silverware and plates and the splash of water. Alright, maybe she was being a little defensive on his behalf. But Kelinn was asking invasive questions! Why didn’t she ever ask normal questions??

“He can’t talk, then?” Sembie finally asked, hesitant.

Asteri shook her head. “I’m not... actually sure. He can hum, and he makes sound when he laughs, or if you startle him. Sometimes he’ll say “Ah!” or something. But he never speaks aloud, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Huh…”

More silence. This was getting ridiculous. Asteri finally gave in; she needed to lighten the mood again.

“He likes sprinkles on his donuts.”

Kelinn immediately lit up and slammed her hands on the counter as she leaned forward. “OH MY GOD, YES!! A man who knows what’s GOOD!”

“Sprinkles are great,” chuckled Sembie as she wiped off a plate and set it aside.

“I made another friend, too, you know.”

“Oh, yeah! You said you met a lizard?”

“Yeah, her name is Alphys. She’s an intern, technically, but Gaster insists she’s his “brilliant and valued assistant.”” Asteri grinned. “It’s cute. They’re really close. She’s a pretty nervous person, but the three of us get along really well because we’re all prone to going off on long tangents. But we all like to listen to each other, for the most part, so it works out. Oh! And Alphys introduced me to a… a surface language, called Japanese. We’ve been working on trying to translate it and figure out how it works. It has a completely different alphabet! It’s definitely exciting.”

“Aww, that so nice,” Sembie cooed. “But, you said she was an intern? Isn’t Dr. Gaster sort of… really old?”

Asteri shrugged and sighed in resignation. This was something she had wondered, but never had the courage to ask him directly. “I don’t even know anymore. I think skeletons must just live a long time, because he doesn’t act like an old guy. Well. For the most part.”

“Well," acquiesced the ferret, "I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

“Omg, what if he’s secretly in love with his assistant?? Forbidden romance!!” Kelinn dramatically threw her arm up and bent backwards in a pose, hand on her forehead. “Kept apart by societal norms! Languishing in mutual yearning but unable to act!!”

Asteri snorted so loudly she startled herself, and swatted a wing at her friend. “Absolutely not. They don’t have that kind of relationship at all.”

“Maybe they’re hiding it!”

Sembie and Asteri shared a look and rolled their eyes. “You just like age gaps in romance stories.”

“It’s hot!!” Asteri gave her a look. “…In like an ace way.”

“You just have a thing for older men,” Sembie needled.

“I do because they’re HOT!”

""In an ace way?””

Kelinn crossed her arms and nodded sagely. “In an ace way.”

Amused by their antics, Asteri chuckled and shook her head. “Alphys sees Gaster as more of a father-figure than a peer. They’re still friends, but it’s not the dynamic you’re thinking. Which reminds me—”

She pulled her phone out with her tail and materialized a drippy green hand to type with. She needed to ask Alphys and Gaster about meeting her friends. Frankly, the three of them were overdue to simply have a group chat, so she made them one.

Hey, hoping this goes through. I figured we might as well have a group chat. I was talking to my friends, and they would really like to meet you both. I know big groups aren’t your guys’ favorite thing, so if you’d prefer, it could just be one of them at a time? Otherwise, you we could all meet here at my place (or wherever) sometime, when it’s convenient. I’ll send you the days they said they’re free, then just let me know what works for you guys and I’ll pass it along. <

She looked back up to Kelinn and Sembie after she sent their schedules. “I asked Alphys and Gaster when they want to meet you guys and how they want to do it. I’ll let you know what they say.”

“Sure, that sounds good,” Sembie agreed. “We would just meet here?”

“Yeah. Or, I guess, if there’s someplace in the capital. Then I would be the only one who has to travel. That might be better. I’ll ask.”

“I can do whatever, just let me know!” Kelinn affirmed. “I’m closer to Hotland.”

“Cool. And Sembie, normally I would say your husband is welcome, but…”

She shook her head, entirely nonplussed. “No. No. I get it. Lots of people.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Sure.”

⁂

They stayed a while longer and chatted about other things, shared funny things they had seen. Kelinn insisted, at one point, that they FIGHT. They hadn’t had a friendly FIGHT in a while, after all. No major damage was dealt, and afterwards they healed each other. It took maybe a half hour, just a few turns. Kelinn’s magic reminded Asteri a little of her own, with a few key differences that were, somehow, difficult to put into words. Sembie’s patterns were more thought-out, but less flexible, and occasionally utilized orange magic. That led to Asteri excitedly informing them of what Gaster had told her about colors and personality traits, which they found interesting, but not quite on the same level as she had, she could tell.

That was reasonable, she reminded herself. They had very different jobs and interests. Their lives had all led them in very different directions since they were in school together. Perhaps if they had only met at this point in their lives, they would not have become friends, but the many years they had known each other kept them close despite their sometimes drastic differences.

When they left, it was after 4pm. Asteri bid them safe travels and promised to text more, as well as to let them know about the plans for meeting Gaster and Alphys. Just like she usually did after spending time with them, she felt simultaneously exhausted and refreshed. It could be a little frustrating, how they didn’t quite understand her work (or, in Kelinn’s case, frequently offered unprompted suggestions to show that she was interested and listening, when in reality the suggestions just threw Asteri off more often than not), but they were supportive even though they didn’t always understand, and they had always been there for her when things were difficult. Differences in interests and hobbies and jobs and personality aside, her friends would take an attack for her without a second thought, would always be up front about things, and had pulled her out of the darkest depths of her mind more than once over the years. Those things were far more important to her than any petty squabble or disagreement could be. Their friendship was formed of things beyond similar interests or opinions.

They were good friends, Asteri thought. And she… well. She could be a better friend. They were patient with her; The least she could do is be patient with them whenever they didn’t understand something or disagreed with her. But that hadn’t happened today, fortunately. They all had a nice time together.

She should work on those Japanese notes, she thought then, and turned to go back inside. She had a lot to catch up on.

⁂

> GOOD EVENING. ASTERI > I WANTED TO CHECK ON YOU. AFTER LAST NIGHT. HOW ARE YOU?

She was climbing into bed when her phone went off. When she saw who it was, she smiled.

I’m doing much better, thank you for checking in on me ^w^ <

Alphys had taught her some emoticons recently. She wondered how Gaster would react.

> AH! A “CAT MOUTH.” ALPHYS. HAS TOLD ME ABOUT THESE.

She giggled to herself.

I think it looks like my mouth when I smile, because it’s pointy like my fangs. What do you think? Does it capture it, or should I use a regular smiley? <

> I THINK IT LOOKS. JUST LIKE YOU

The typing message came up again, so she waited, but then it went away. This repeated a few times until at last he said:

> UNFORTUNATELY. THERE ARE NO SYMBOLS. ON THIS KEYBOARD. THAT RESEMBLE A SKULL. > TRULY. A TRAGEDY.

She snickered.

A tragedy indeed. How am I supposed to imagine your face? With my imagination?? < > YES. YOU MUST USE IT TO IMAGINE. ME ROLLING MY EYES. AT THAT. Oh well that’s easy enough. XD <

He didn’t respond right away, so she added:

Turn your head to the left. <

That got an almost immediate response.

> OH! > I SEE. YOU ARE LAUGHING

She shook her head, thoroughly amused.

At you, specifically. Which I am now doing even more so. <

> OH NO. MY DEAR FRIEND! LAUGHING AT MY EXPENSE? HOW EVER. COULD YOU WOUND ME SO? > I SEE. HOW IT IS.

Asteri snorted a giggle and rolled onto her stomach. Her tail swayed in amusement, legs slowly kicking in the air.

XD < Truly, your drama knows no bounds. I can just envision you packing up your things in a red cloth and tying them to the end of a stick and then slowly walking away. <

> YES. PRECISELY. IMAGINE ME. DOING JUST THAT. Darn, Gaster's gone. I guess I’ll just have to eat all this soup myself :/ < > YOU MADE MORE??

That got a real laugh out of her. She had never seen him double up punctuation before.

Ah, sorry, no. But I’ll make it again sometime. < I should have you try grape leaves. < > IF WE GO. TO SNOWDIN. WOULD YOU MAKE IT AGAIN? You remembered that, huh? You know what? Sure. If you liked it that much. < > YOUR COOKING. IS DELIGHTFUL > IT IS NICE. TO EAT FOOD COOKED BY A FRIEND. AGAIN. Aww, I’m so glad you liked it so much. ^w^ < Again?" < > I HAVE NOT HAD THAT. EXCEPT. ON RARE OCCASIONS. SINCE THE QUEEN

Asteri’s eyes practically bulged.

You knew the queen??? < > YES. I KNEW BOTH. HER AND ASGORE BEFORE. THEY WERE. THE KING AND QUEEN. > WE. WERE FRIENDS.

She rolled over and got more comfortable. This seemed like a conversation that warranted a better position.

You must have been sad when she disappeared. < > VERY MUCH SO.

Yikes, what did she even say to this?

I’m sorry, Gaster… Do you want to talk about it? < > THANK YOU. BUT. IT IS ALRIGHT. > ON. TO HAPPIER THINGS Okay… but let me know if you ever want to talk. <

It took a bit longer for him to reply this time.

> TECHNICALLY. > I NEVER TALK > DO I?

It seemed like a joke, just like the ‘technically my stomach is always empty’ one, but somehow this one felt… different.

I mean, it’s not like I mind. You know that right? <

> YES.

> I KNOW. YOU ARE KIND. LIKE THAT.

> JUST. A LITTLE JOKE

She smacked her forehead with her tail. Of course it was just a joke!! Stupid! You made it weird by calling attention to it!! She was probably just reading into it because her friends had asked about his name, and therefore his font, so the issue of him talking was on her mind. He was probably joking about never mentioning much about his past, rather than commenting on whether or not he spoke aloud.

Right. Sorry. I’m a little tired. My friends came over today. < > AH. YES. I SAW. THE MESSAGE YOU SENT TO ALPHYS. AND ME. > I WOULD LIKE. TO MEET THEM SOON Whenever you guys are free < > THE END OF NEXT MONTH. WORKS FOR ME. Perfect! I’ll let them know. Can you send that to the group chat so Alphys can see too? < > YES Great! Thanks. < Well, I’m whipped, so I’m going to sleep soon. You should too! < > VERY WELL. I WILL SEE YOU. ON FRIDAY. GOODNIGHT ASTERI. Goodnight, Gaster. See you then! <

⁂

Friday came and went, Alphys joining them that time. Then another week, and they actually met up twice: once with Alphys, once without. The fact that a mostly weekly schedule had remained over the past however six or seven months, despite everything, was impressive in Asteri’s opinion. Every week, she met up with at least Gaster (and gave him a Sandwich of Passive-Aggressive Care or two for his lunches), if not both of them, and they talked, or she made dinner (and sometimes they watched anime with Alphys), or they went somewhere else. Like occasionally they went to get donuts, and the heavyset man who always used exclamation points would greet them all enthusiastically by name. His name was Carlope, she had learned this past month, and he did in fact own the place. Alphys came over sometimes, other days, to work on Japanese with her.

It was nice. And Asteri wouldn’t trade the pleasant routine they had for anything.

- [ APPROX. 3 WEEKS AFTER THE TELEPORTATION INCIDENT ] -

> hey sorry for not responding!! ive been swamped w finals coming up x.x No worries! I completely understand. I remember how college is. I’m not THAT old haha < Well not yet anyway < > LOL > at least you aren’t as old as Dr G

Asteri rolled her eyes. He was technically old, yeah, but he sure didn’t act like it a lot of the time.

How long do skeletons even live? Maybe he’s only old from our perspective. <

Alphys started typing, then stopped. Then started again, but a minute or so later, she stopped again. Asteri watched to see if she would continue, but she didn’t. It really wasn’t her business how old he was anyway. Old, if he had fought in the war. There were a number of types of monsters who naturally lived a very long time without being functionally immortal like Boss Monsters. Shapeshifters, like herself, were one. Even if she had been born the year the war ended, she would likely still be alive today anyway, if she took care of herself. Her parents had known the surface as adolescents, after all. As it was, though, she was born around 10 years after the death of the royal children, but was still a child when her parents were killed almost 20 years later. And it had been… what? 40? Almost 50 more years since then? And she was still fairly young. Not young like Alphys, of course… but aging slowed down considerably after childhood. Gah, had it really been so long since she had lost her parents? It really had, hadn’t it?

It made her wonder just how old Asriel and Chara had been. Something like early adolescence, right? Yes, she was about that age when her parents were killed, maybe a little older. It was difficult not to think about them, after having listened to Gaster reminisce during one of their last meetings. Yes, he spoke fondly of the royal children. He had helped tutor them in areas of science and mathematics, while the queen taught them everything else. He had been, of course, wary of Chara initially, he said, but they had grown on him over the years. They were, after all, just a child, albeit a troubled one.

She was still convinced that they were the only good human.

Her phone went off. Alphys finally replied.

> yknow im pretty sure ur right

What had they been talking about again? Oh yeah, Gaster being old.

I know every type of monster ages differently. TBH he doesn’t seem that much older than me < > Oh yeah? > 🕈︎ I told you those don’t show up on my phone. < > omg right sorry > PLS let me upgrade your phone to understand unicode I don’t know what that is but sure. < What did you mean to send? < > well it was better than this emoticon but thisll have to do > >;P

Asteri’s cheeks warmed.

Oh my god Alphys. < Stop trying to set me up with Gaster, it’s not like that. <

In the many months since their ill-fated meeting at the dump (she couldn’t believe it had been almost a year), she and Gaster, and often Alphys, met up more or less once a week. These last few weeks, though, Alphys had been busy studying for finals. So it had mostly been Asteri and Gaster, which was fine. But having more time just the two of them apparently fueled the rumor mill at the lab.

> if u say so~ I’m not dignifying that with a proper response. < > lmao ok ill stop > but itd be so cute

Asteri rolled her eyes and ignored the way that the sentiment actually pleased her just a little, even if Alphys was just messing with her. It wasn’t like that! It was just because they were good friends. Hmph. She had an idea of how to put a stop to this.

If you see him as a father figure, wouldn’t pursuing him make me your step-mother-figure? < > ……… > shit.

Asteri barked out a laugh.

Aww don’t back out now. Don't worry Alphys I’d be a good mommy to you < > AJKFSMXLSASDJDKDLSJHD;SKX??!?,?!1!??!!! > ATSERI > OMFG > u CANT jsut SAY THAT > I ALMSOT CHOKED ON MY RAMEN

She grimaced, shame swelling in her gut. Too far, given the relationship Alphys had with her mother. She should apologize.

Crap. That was too far, wasn’t it? I wasn’t thinking about your situation. I’m sorry. < That was in bad taste < > wait what

I shouldn’t have made a joke about being a good mother since you don’t have a good relationship with yours. That was thoughtless of me, and I’m sorry. <

Asteri rubbed the magic of her wings together anxiously while she waited for the reply. Stupid, stupid! She should have just let the joke go and let Alphys tease her! It was all lighthearted anyway! Obviously Alphys didn’t actually think she and Gaster would be a couple… It was all in good fun. But rather than let it go, she had gotten weirdly personal about Alphys’ relationship with both Gaster and her parents. Yikes, Asteri!! Have some forethought!

> OH > omg Asteri. Don’t Even Worry About It. > That’s not. Uh. What I was screaming about

Asteri’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

You’re not upset? What was that reaction about then? < > uhh > nothing don’t worry about it > i um. > thought you were making a different joke What? What joke? < > omg please just pretend i didn’t say anything > ANYWAY HOW ARE YOU

Asteri rolled her eyes and let it go. She caught up with Alphys about what she had texted her about to begin with, then let her finish studying. It was awfully ambitious of her to take on finals and then agree to meet Asteri’s other friends the following week. But good for her.

Speaking of her other friends, she had another conversation to reply to.

As was frequently the case, the three of them ended up talking for an hour.

…and so the IDEA is that other monsters might be able to detect differences in the text magic of a person’s speech, even if they aren’t a skeleton! < > That’s really interesting > How would you test it, though? See, that’s where I’m stuck. <

You guys know what I’m talking about, with Temmies and stuff, right? < > I mean, sort of? > I guess I don't really pay attention to that type of stuff?? > It might be just you…? But like only bc you’re so used to looking for that sort of thing? I mean I know what you mean, but nonetheless

Asteri deflated a little. She had been trying to work out this theory for a year now. These months of knowing Gaster had given her a lot of information, but it was like she always got derailed when she meant to ask him more about this… Well, actually, it was more that she wanted to have more to show before she presented the whole theory to him. Plus, she was sidetracked working on translating Japanese as a side project with Alphys.

It wasn’t like she had much to go off of, and really Kelinn and Sembie had just given her more information by providing their perspectives. So why did it feel like such a failure that they didn’t notice it like her? Did she just want to be right that badly?

I. Guess it might be… < > I thought you asked Dr. Gaster about this kind of stuff? Skeletons naturally see text as a person speaks. He can’t give me an outside opinion < > Okay but. If nobody else has ever seen people’s words, in all the history of monsters… I’m not saying other monsters can see speech text! Just that maybe we can sense it. Or intentionally change how our speech looks < Like! He said I use interrobangs < Y’know, like this: <

[ASTERI sent a picture] <

> Like in your speech? Out loud?

Yeah. When I ask something intensely. Like if someone kicked my door down and I was like, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Apparently. < Anyway! What I’m saying is that the concept that a monster might be able to deliberately alter the subconscious parts of their speech, like unusual punctuation— as if it were written on paper, or a computer— has such INCREDIBLE potential for language! < > You said that HE said… that everyone’s speech has magic? Yeah. < > Well. Not everyone can manipulate their magic like you… Maybe it’d be easier for shapeshifters? You can change your bullets after all > Do you see what I’m saying?

Asteri wilted, the disappointment weighing on her like a stone. How had she never considered…?

Yeah. Yeah, no, that’s… never occurred to me. < I gotta give that some thought… < But that still leaves no reason for me to be able to pick up on how it sounds different. < > Maybe you’ve got a skeleton in your family!!

For some reason, the suggestion made her want to immediately end this conversation. There’s absolutely no reason for that, calm down Asteri.

No, my entire family is shapeshifters. My parents never mentioned any other kinds of monsters in our family < > Okay but like maybe there was a forbidden romance! That your parents kept secret! > The family shame!

> Two star-crossed lovers, kept apart by their families!!

Asteri’s tail flicked in further irritation against the floor. She did not like the implications of this.

Kept apart? < How would I exist, then? < > Well I’m not saying they STAYED apart There aren’t any skeletons in my family, Kelinn. <

This isn’t a romance novel < > ok but what IF There aren’t. That’s not it <

> But you can’t know for 100% > Tell me that's not cool to think about!! > Alright you two. I’m NOT saying there was some secret love child. But I mean none of us know for sure everyone who was related to us before the war… > I’m not saying that’s what the reason is. But technically you COULD have a skeleton ancestor.

Asteri clenched her jaw.

> I’m not saying you do! > But you’ve got to admit! It would explain a lot about your idea!! Okay you know what I am DONE with this conversation < Shut up shut up shut UP < Im turning my phone off just SHUT UP!! <

She needed to go for a walk. Before she threw her phone across the room or broke something.

What her friends had suggested frustrated her. She had lashed out mostly because they had made valid points, but she berated herself for being so immature about her response. That was not how a scholar reacted when confronted with evidence that contradicted their ideas. She was bitter. Ugh, but why?

Gaster had once said that bitterness was a means of coping with hurt, and in turn a sign of perseverance. Well, he hadn’t worded it quite like that. But what in the underground was she HURT about? Being wrong? No, potentially being wrong? Very mature, Asteri, wow. Fantastic.

She grumbled and kicked a rock into the river. Now she was mad at herself for being mad. Great. What a useful goddamn cycle of emotions!! She picked up another rock with her tail and threw it as hard as she could into the water with an angry shout.

“UGH!!” It wasn’t enough. She needed to burn energy, and throwing stuff wasn’t going to cut it. She glanced behind her to make sure she was alone, then summoned a flurry of bullets and let them fly at the cave wall. She did it again. And then again. Again. …She was out of patterns.

Stupid patterns, stupid bullets, stupid DAMN ASTERI! “Perseverance.” She scoffed bitterly. “Some perseverance I have!” She squeezed her eyes shut, body shaking with barely contained frustration. Subconsciously she wondered if she would shift in anger, something she hadn’t done since becoming an adult, but this felt different. For every word, she smacked her tail against whatever was closest.

“I! Can’t! Even! "Persevere!" Through! Being! WRONG!!” With every word she felt her SOUL grow tighter, her magic shuddering, coiling back like an antagonized snake, until the very end it released in what felt like a shockwave. Her eyes flew open with a gasp and she stumbled back. At first she didn’t see anything. Then, like gossamer threads, cords of violet magic caught the light. She turned. Circles, spaced haphazardly but concentrically around her, went straight outward for a few yards, then stopped. Purple magic. It was just like Gaster had told her. Magic in lines. There was no target though, no SOUL to be affected, so it looked like she had just…. cast the trap part? Now temporarily distracted from her anger by surprise, confusion, and curiosity, she leaned down and tried to touch one with her tail. It vibrated slightly, like a string on an instrument, and gave a strange, incredibly uncomfortable feeling of feedback in her SOUL. It was unpleasant in a way she couldn’t explain. So, touching them didn’t dissipate them like bullets… Oh right, bullets. She summoned a few and tried to send them somewhere above and between the cords. They flew to the lines instead like a magnet had pulled them, and careened along the circles for about the length of a turn, then fizzled out like usual. What did this even mean…? And how did she get it to go away? She was not familiar with casting anything much more advanced than fire magic; bullets were all she ever even considered attempting in FIGHTs, and she had never been particularly interested in FIGHTing. Actually, no, that was a lie. She had a time, following her parents’ murder, where she wanted nothing more than real battle training, and she put a lot of thought into bullet patterns as a means of protection. But that anger had soon enough given way to sadness— depression— and the other stages of grief. And she had moved on, at least as well as she could. Her HP had taken a major hit for a long time after, but as she had learned to cope, it had returned to a normal range for a shapeshifter, and then continued to increase as she got older and life got better. Last time she CHECKed, it was actually at an all-time high. But none of this explained her use of purple magic. And the cords were still there. She did not like how it felt to touch them, and she didn’t know what would happen if she tried to squeeze under them or move overtop of them…

She pulled out her phone and took a deep breath, then dialed a familiar number.

Surprisingly, it picked up. Instantly, she launched into rambling. “Gaster I know calling doesn’t work well for you I’m really sorry but can you come to Waterfall? Please?? I’m not by my house, I went for a walk to let some steam off, b-but I accidentally cast weird magic and I-I don’t know how to make it go away and you’re the only one I know who knows a lot about colored magic—” There was a startled noise at the other end. “Y-Yeah, um, I cast purple magic? I-I think? And I don’t know what to do, c-can you… can you help me?” She took a deep breath, knowing that babbling wasn’t going to help. Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m really, really sorry to ask you away from work, I… I just, um.” She swallowed. “Can you, um, hum, I guess? If you can come? If not, I-I’ll figure it out…”

He hummed the same tune as when he’d calmed her down after the teleport.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, so much. Here, let me tell you where I’m at from my house…” Less than ten minutes later, he came running around the corner. “I apologize for taking so long, I had to finish what I was working on,” he explained as soon as he caught sight of her. “What—” “Wait stop!” He froze, almost falling over mid-step. Asteri rubbed the magic of her wings together anxiously. “I don’t know what will happen if you step inside the lines. Can you see them?” She gestured to one with her tail. “They feel really weird when I touch them. I don’t know how to make them go away…” Gaster looked to where she pointed, then nodded offered a reassuring smile. “Do not worry. It should not affect me, and even if it does, the trap will do no damage on its own.” She swallowed, but nodded, and he came closer. When he reached the edge of one of the circles, he carefully stepped over it, lifting his foot high and then continuing toward her. She extended her tail toward him, which he held onto for balance once he was close enough, and with that she guided him towards her. Once he reached her, she inched backward to give him room to stand inside the innermost circle. There wasn’t much space to begin with. He put his hands on his hips and turned, surveying the surrounding magic, then nodded to himself and turned to her. “You are alright?” She nodded. “Good. Admittedly, I have not encountered purple magic since the war, so I am not completely sure how to deal with it. But!” He gave an encouraging smile. “It is very impressive that you cast this!” Looking around at the skewed, uneven lines, Asteri made a face. She still felt miserable. “Well. Thank you. It doesn’t feel very impressive.” Gaster managed to make a tutting sound and gave her an admonishing look. “Asteri, you must be kinder to yourself.” His expression softened. “What led up to this? You said that you went for a walk to “let off steam.”” At this, she turned away, embarrassed. “I had been talking to my friends, and they… said something. I don’t even know why it made me so upset. But I got angry, so I went for a walk. And then got angry at myself for being angry. Nothing was helping, though, so I just…” Her face warmed. This sounded so juvenile. “I… shot a couple bullet patterns into the wall. But... I… ran out of patterns, because I never practice. And then I got even angrier at myself. And then… this happened.” It was hard to look at him, but she had to in order to see what he said. She sighed quietly and turned her eyes back to him. “You are ashamed for feeling angry.” Yeah, nope. She wasn’t ready to look at him if he was going to psychoanalyze her. She swiveled her head away again, a persistent heat in her cheeks. The defensiveness clattered against the inside of her mouth like a rubber ball in a metal box, but she wouldn’t snap at Gaster, she wouldn’t. He had been nice enough to leave his job in the middle of the afternoon to come rescue her from her own problem.

The shame grew in her chest like a cancer. She heard him sigh, and the feeling doubled in size. This was a mistake, she just panicked, she should never have called him, even his patience had to have a limit, and this was it. This was all— “I cannot help you,” he signed with blue hands within her line of sight, “if you do not let me.” “I shouldn’t have called you, I should have just. Figured it out on my own,” she answered, too fast, too harshly, and immediately regretted that it came out like she had spat it. It felt like poison on her tongue, but her feelings were too sharp and cut into the tone of everything she tried to say. “It isn’t your problem.” (I’m sorry for pulling you away from your work.) “It’s my mess.” (I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness and desire for a friend.) “And I don’t need a damn therapy session.” (I’m too ashamed to tell you how I acted because if you judged me I don’t think I could bear it.) She glanced up at him, knowing that her anger at herself shot through her eyes like ice at him. He looked startled, then hurt (and god she wanted to wither away right then), then angry, and she jolted, shrinking a little. She felt herself slowly begin to melt, and it wasn’t voluntary but she didn’t try to stop it. That was it. Nobody in their right mind would put up with what she just pulled. He was mad at her. And oh, she absolutely deserved it, but it made her feel like the scum of the earth. Whatever he said next, she had coming, but knowing it was going to be the end of everything made her eyes sting. Stupid. Weak. You brought this on yourself by acting so childish, and now you have the audacity to cry? She tried to blink the feeling away and brace herself. “You,” Gaster began, and him just pointing at her almost brought her the rest of the way to tears, “are pushing me away to try to protect yourself.” ...What? “Whatever it is that happened has you so ashamed that merely mentioning the feeling immediately made you defensive.” He frowned even more. She looked away again, the sight of him angry enough to look at her like that making her melt even faster. He sighed, and she could practically hear the annoyance. Tears welled up in her eyes despite her angrily shouting at them in her head to not do that.

“Asteri.” She ignored him. “Asteri.” She turned her head away. He frowned even more and moved blue hands into her line of sight. “Asteri.” It was finger-spelled that time, he didn't even use her name sign. She squeezed her eyes shut. He couldn’t talk to her if she wasn’t looking, and that that HAD to be rude enough to make him leave. Silence, for a few seconds, then an almost-silent sigh, a strange, cartoonish sound, and a microsecond of heaviness. She opened one eye. He was gone. He was gone.

She dropped to her knees and let the tears well up as a truly pitiful little cry escaped her mouth. That started off a chain of hiccuping sobs as she held her head in her wings, and melted together like the pathetic excuse of a friend she was. This was truly ugly crying, the undignified sounds she made. “Asteri you i-i-idiot!” she bawled, “Now he’s never coming back!” She dissolved into tears, almost literally, and wept until she could finally think straighter. It felt like forever, but once she had calmed down a little, she opened her eyes and looked around. After all, she still needed to figure out what to do about the purple magic. She sniffled as she scanned the surrounding area numbly. Maybe, somehow, she could repair things with Gaster. Oh who was she kidding!? She ruined it. She would still apologize, somehow, but there was no way he would forg— “O-OH MY GOD YOU’RE STILL HERE!!!” The skeleton was standing against a far wall, on the other side of the river, but certainly still close enough to have heard and seen everything that just happened. She flattened all the way against the floor, now all but a blob, and in a brilliant move of pure, instinctual self-preservation, changed to the exact color of the ground and held perfectly still. There was that strange, objectively silly noise again, and suddenly he was standing over her. She squeaked in alarm, but then clamped her mouth shut and pretended he wasn’t there. He sighed and crouched down. His eyelights were tinged cyan blue. At least he couldn’t see where her eyes were. “Asteri, please talk to me.” When she did not, he continued. “I am not angry. I am frustrated, yes. But I am not stupid. You called me in a panic; When I got here, you were relieved. As soon as I mentioned shame, you immediately got defensive and told me to leave. I can piece together that you spoke in anger. I did not truly leave the area, because I wanted to ensure you were alright. I had a feeling that you needed to get some things out considering that me frowning at you almost brought you to tears.” Thank god she was already on the ground, because this was humiliating. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his expression was softer. “Seeing you break into tears and berate yourself because you thought you had driven me off for good was more than enough confirmation that you did not mean anything.” He offered a tiny, awkward smile. “Frankly, though, nothing you said to me was especially cruel. I think you may be being hard on yourself because most of your anger was directed internally anyway. Even if I had not witnessed that, I would only have given you space, not abandoned your friendship.” His smile turned a little more genuine, eyes softening. “I am admittedly difficult to get rid of, unless you tell me directly. I am not good with subtext, you see.”

Suddenly he brightened, straightening, with a huge grin on his face.

“Only regular text!” He broke into laughter at his own terrible joke— it was barely even a joke, good grief— and Asteri couldn’t muffle a little huff of humor in time. He somehow brightened even more. “A laugh! Good!” She still didn’t want to say anything, though, or un-camouflage. Gaster’s excitement died down and his expressions changed to a more thoughtful one as he looked over the arrangement of purple magic. “Purple magic is trap magic,” he reminded her, though his attention was still turned to the surrounding rings. “It is also associated with perseverance. If you are angry, but feel that you should not be, the desire to persevere through something is there. It is not an ideal form of perseverance, but it is perseverance nonetheless. However…” He looked back down at her, silently noting that she was slowly returning to her normal lavender hue. “…Trap magic with no target can only do one thing.” She peered up at him through still-hidden eyes. “Purple magic, like perseverance, works best with others close to you as support. It seems that purple magic allows you to entrap what is causing you difficulty and analyze it, observe its behavior. But a good analysis needs multiple perspectives. And if your focus is internal when you use purple magic, then the only thing that will be trapped...” Asteri swallowed and found her voice. “…Is me.” Gaster smiled gently at her. “You cannot persevere through your own emotions. You will only sever yourself from others. In order to deal with them, you must ready yourself, then deal with them head-on—“ He summoned a green bone-shaped bullet and grinned hopefully— “with kindness.” She sighed, long and tired, and let her color come back, slowly reforming into something vaguely solid, though not quite her usual form. Most of her was still in a puddle on the ground. The last thing she wanted to do was look Gaster in the eye when he would look right back (because that would mean being seen, and in that moment nothing felt scarier), but she mustered the courage and met his eyes. Immediately, they lit up with a faint green, and he smiled at her with nothing short of pride. Green is absolutely the color of kindness, she thought, if someone can see me after everything and look at me like that. “There you are.” As if she were ever truly hidden, she scoffed inwardly. But just like always, he wore nothing but sincerity on his face. “It’s me,” she agreed ruefully. The worst friend ever. Making him come here, snapping at him, and then being so pathetic that she didn’t even allow him his rightful frustration, she made him put it aside to comfort her. “You do not seem particularly happy about that fact,” he observed. “I just think… you should be mad at me,” she muttered, eyes on the ground. “I think,” he began, forcing her to look up, “that you want me to be angry with you so that you can be angry at yourself.” “I’m already angry at myself!” she huffed. “Yes, because you think you deserve it,” he replied patiently. “Why should I add to it?” “Because I do! And because you didn’t- you didn’t even get to be upset, you had to come over here and coddle me!” Gaster raised a curious brow. “I had to?” Her face flushed, but she held her ground. “Y-Yeah!” He tilted his head and looked down his metaphorical nose. “I did not. I wanted to,” he corrected. “That’s… dumb,” Asteri grumbled. “I know you do not mean that you truly believe that my feelings or desires are motivated by stupidity,” Gaster signed seriously, though not harshly, “but consider what your self-hatred implies when you discredit others’ genuine desire to help you.”

Oh, his words cut deep. Deeper than any possible insult could have. It would have been so, so much easier if he had been angry. But instead, he was forcing her to confront herself.

“Why do you even want to?” she asked, the leftover defensiveness giving her words the effect of hardness but none of the impact. Like tinfoil on a cardboard box.

“Because you are my friend,” Gaster answered simply. “I care about you.”

“You shouldn’t…”

And there it was. ‘You shouldn’t.’ That was what it boiled down to, wasn’t it? That she believed, deep down, that nobody should care about her; that she did not deserve it-- not when she was like this. She should be better than this.

“Asteri.” She looked up. Gaster looked stern. She almost looked away again, but then he signed. “You are important to me. But you do not get to decide who I am allowed to care about.” Her eyes widened. “That is something no other monster decides. Only me. And no other monster can decide who you care about.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “If anybody alive does not deserve to be cared about, it is me. Do you know the things I have done? I am the biggest hypocrite of all. What are kindness and patience when you have slaughtered hundreds?” He looked down. “What is integrity worth when it has been broken?”

A long moment of silence passed before he sighed and looked back to her. “I do not like to think about this, but I do not hide these facts. You knew I fought in the war, and I have not failed to mention the ways I killed. But you care about me regardless of whether I feel I deserve it, don’t you?” “I… do.” She nodded, voice growing stronger. “Y-Yes, I do.” A small smile pulled at his face. “After the things I have lived through, and the things I have done, it will take much more than a few words spoken in shame to truly upset me. You must forgive yourself. Forgiveness is not the same as saying that a course of action was right. It is merely the decision to not let it poison your relationship. I do not think that the things I have done were right. Necessary, perhaps. But not right. Despite this, I make an active effort to forgive myself.” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “An active effort?” He nodded. “It is not easy. Forgiving yourself for something must be a continuous choice, or guilt will paralyze you.” They sat there in contemplative silence once more. Gradually, Asteri returned to her form, filling back into the clothes she had melted out of, until she was all the way there once again, knees pulled up to her chest and wings and tail curled tightly around them.

“That’s a lot to think about,” she said at last, quietly. Gaster saw one of the violet circles at the edge of the magic field fizzle away. “Yes. But it is necessary.” A sigh, and a small hum, and her eyelights flitted over to him for a moment before she allowed herself to lean over and rest her head against his shoulder. “You’re a good friend, you know. Way better than I deserve.” “You are better than I deserve, but we are both here, aren’t we?” Asteri smiled, just a little. “Yeah, I guess we are.” He shifted just enough to look down at her. “Do you want to tell me what upset you enough to cause this? I think it would help.” The way she immediately tensed did not go unnoticed, so he gestured to the edge of the rings. “Look. A few have already disappeared. Talking this through is helping.” “It could just be me getting distracted…” she tried, weakly, but knew even without the look she got in return that it wouldn’t work. She heaved a heavy sigh and let her head drop back against his shoulder. “It’s so stupid. I don’t even know why I was so upset about it. And that’s part of what made me more upset.” She paused, hesitant. “I… feel really childish. It was so immature. I don’t…” Another deep breath, and she confessed: “I don’t want to tell you, because I’m afraid you’ll judge me. Even though you say you won’t. You might not act any differently but your opinion of me could still change. I don’t…” It felt like her throat was shrinking, like her voice couldn’t get any smaller. She turned her head to hide her face against his shoulder. Like a child, she berated herself. “…want you to think less of me.” Rather than answer right away, Gaster tilted his head down and tapped the side of it against the top of hers. “It is possible to disagree with a person’s choices without thinking less of them,” he signed when she turned her head again. “Yeah…” “Is it truly worse than having killed people?” Her cheeks warmed. Well when he put it like that…

She sighed in acquiescence. “My friends and I were talking about my work. They didn’t understand what I meant about being able to sense the difference in speech beyond pronunciation. It… It was a whole thing, but basically they said that maybe…” She groaned a little. This was going to sound far worse than it already was. “…Maybe I have a skeleton ancestor or something.”

She didn’t need to be looking at him to feel the eyebrow raise.

“NOT that that’s what I was upset about!” she clarified hastily. “I told them that I didn’t; all my family was other shapeshifters. Then one of them suggested that maybe, a long time ago, there was some secret… tryst or something, I don’t know. Basically that someone had been unfaithful, or there was some secret child with a skeleton or something, and I was unknowingly descended from them. Just because they didn’t understand! And- And obviously I don’t have any issues with having a skeleton family member!! But if I'm part skeleton, it would mean that… that my theory that other types of monsters can sense text magic is false.”

She faltered, for a moment, then launched back into it with the same frustration as before.

“How immature can I get‽‽ Lashing out at my friends just because they brought up a potential explanation that I didn’t like! Getting so angry that I trapped myself with purple magic— which I have never used before! Forcing you to leave whatever you were doing to come rescue me! Lashing out at you, having a literal meltdown, and then this! I’m a full-grown monster! And a scholar! What kind of scholar punches the wall when they’re disagreed with‽” Once she was finished, she slumped against Gaster again and grumbled to herself. “…You punched a wall?” “Metaphorically! With… with the bullets.” Gaster nodded. “Ah.” “To start with…” the skeleton began again after a beat, “it does seem reasonable to be upset over having your family’s integrity insulted.” “But—“ “Hold on,” he halted her. “I know you want to be angry at yourself, not be validated. But wait.” “Fine…” “From my understanding, you were irritated not only with your friends, but also the implications of what they said: that you did not discover this much about text magic on your own merits, rather that it is simply innate due to some hypothetical ancestor. Am I correct?” Asteri raised her head a little. “Yeah… I guess that is it.” A frown took hold of her expression. “But that still isn’t an excuse for getting that upset.” “The validity of emotions and their intensity is another discussion. I am not finished.” “Alright, alright.” “Your family— which is surely a sensitive topic— was casually insulted, then your accomplishments as an academic, which you have worked very hard toward, were dismissed and excused as being a mere coincidence of ancestry. Then, your feelings were brushed aside, either by your friends or your own mind, as being invalid because your friends “only” brought a new possibility to your attention. Instead of acknowledging your right to be upset, you instantly shamed yourself for having such a reaction, which only made you feel worse for being upset to begin with. Every attempt to brush off your feelings and simply push through them-- because you believe them to be a personal failing-- added to the shame you already felt. I imagine that taking a walk did not immediately remove these feelings as you had hoped, because you were not allowing them their place to be felt and then move on, rather you were feeding them to each other until they grew explosive.” Well. That would certainly explain why her magic had felt like that. But that didn’t mean she liked the fact that he was right. “It’s annoying how smart you are,” she grumbled. “Why can’t I just be angry at myself in peace?” “Because your anger was not peaceful.”

Asteri raised her head. He looked at her and continued.

“Your anger was violent toward yourself. It served no purpose, motivated no change. It was no longer anger; it was hatred.” That echoed in her like a shout off the edge of the pier. The words just kept repeating in her mind, in her SOUL. ‘Your anger was not peaceful.’ ‘Violent toward yourself.’ ‘It was hatred.’

Her eyes stung.

“I didn’t think I hated myself,” she whispered, at a loss. “I… I love myself. I love a lot of things about myself.”

“That is good,” Gaster commended her. “But I do not think that self-hatred needs to be all-encompassing to exist in a person.” “How do I stop feeling like this?” she asked the universe more than her friend. Fortunately, the universe had given her a friend to answer. “Practice.”

She turned to him with watery eyes. “Practice?” He nodded. “When you feel upset, remember that anger is not bad. Emotions are simply emotions. They are not moral indicators. The way one reacts to one’s emotions is what matters. But feeling something is not wrong, nor is it stupid.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to remember all of that when I’m upset,” she admitted.

Gaster smiled softly. “That is why it takes practice.” His attention turned to the space around them. “The circles are gone.”

So they were. She hadn’t even noticed. “Thank god,” she sighed in relief. “I’m exhausted.”

He stood and offered her a hand, which she took with her tail. “I am sure.”

Once on her feet, Asteri checked her phone to see the time. “At least I didn’t keep you too long…”

“Even if you had, the lab would not burn down without me. My followers frequently ask me to take more time off.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your “followers”?” Gaster looked a little sheepish. “It is a joke between us. When my most trusted assistants were new, they followed me from room to room. They are always nearby, thank the stars. I would lose my head without them.”

He paused.

“Literally, come to think of it.”

That earned a chuckle from Asteri. “Oh, is one of them the guy you scared the SOUL out of?”

Gaster giggled guiltily and rubbed the back of his head. “Yes. He retrieved my head for me once I told him what room it was in, rather than try to lead my body there. He claims that carrying my skull is ‘the worst memory he has ever made in Hotland.’ I do confess that it was likely very uncomfortable to pick up a completely inert skull.”

Asteri snickered. “Did your jaw fall off?”

He perked up and pointed at her. “Surprisingly, no! Some active magic must have remained to hold it together.”

“That’s fascinating. I’m morbidly curious, but also terrified.”

Both hands braced on the sides of his head and lifted it off his neck while a blue pair of hands signed for him. “Are you sure you do not want to see?” he teased.

“Absolutely not!” she laughed, somewhat incredulous. “Put that back before you forget it somewhere.”

“I would certainly hate to teleport without it.” He set it back in place, then rolled it around on his neck to make sure it attached properly.

“Right, teleporting…”

She had given it a lot of thought since her bad experience with it. It seemed too useful and convenient to be afraid of. If he was willing, she wanted to try again.

“You teleported the short distance from here to the other side of the river in an instant.”

“Ah. That is because it is so close. However, teleporting any distance here in the underground appears almost instantaneous, although it feels like more time passes during travel.”

“How long is it in… travel… from here to my house?”

Gaster inclined his head and rubbed his chin, eye sockets squinted in thought. “30 seconds, maybe?”

Asteri rubbed her wings together, tail swaying nervously behind her. “You’ve already done so much for me today, but you mentioning teleportation reminded me: I decided... I don’t want to be afraid of it. So if you would be willing, could I come with you again, sometime? But just a short distance?”

His eyes widened slightly. “Of course! It is no trouble, really. I can take you home, if you are agreeable to trying it now.”

She nodded. “I think knowing what to expect will help.”

He held his arms out, and she fused herself into one mostly solid form, then stepped into his embrace and curled her tail and wings around him as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt good to be held, after everything, even if just like this.

“Ready?”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. It would be dark. She knew that. But he wouldn’t let go, and she would be safe.

“Ready.”

Blue, and then black, and then darkness. She shuddered, but didn’t panic this time. Gaster squeezed a hand on her back, then pulled her toward a speck of light just like before. But this time, it came towards them much, much faster, and it wasn’t even the 30 seconds he had predicted before they were stepping out of the darkness and into the tall grass.

Instantly he was facing her, hands on her shoulders while he checked her over with deep blue eyes that flashed with yellow.

“I’m okay,” she told him with a small smile, her tail coiling lightly around his forearm. He sighed in relief and visibly relaxed, eyelights fading back to their usual white. “Good.” “It isn’t so bad, I think, now that I know how dark it is.” Even the first time hadn’t actually been very long, only a few minutes, but the panic had made it feel like it lasted an eternity. “I am relieved to hear that. It is very convenient, no?” “Extremely. That was a 15 minute walk, otherwise.”

“I am never late to work, either.”

Asteri giggled. “Don’t you basically live at work?” Gaster made an indignant sound, though he wasn’t truly offended whatsoever. “I have been going home at least twice a week lately.”

She gave him a look.

“…I have extra clothes at the lab.”

“Go home tonight,” she urged. “Sleep in a real bed.” She lifted a wing to cup his head and bring him closer so that she could get a better look at him. “You’ve got bags under your eyes again, Gaster,” she admonished gently. He smiled guiltily and looked away. “I will, then, only so as not to upset you.” “I only get upset because I care,” she informed him, doing her best approximation of crossing her wings. “If you neglect your health even though other people want you to take care of yourself, isn’t that the same as me saying it’s stupid for someone to care about me?” That earned her an impressed but unhappy glare. “You are too clever for your own good.” She laughed, and he smiled at the sound, any mild annoyance that she had pinned him with his own lesson evaporating instantly.

“Thank you for cheering me up after everything.” She looked up at him and sighed softly before looking away. “I am bummed out about my theory being potentially invalid, but it wasn’t like there was any way to test it anyway. Not really.”

Gaster looked like he was going to say something, but hesitated.

She frowned slightly, eyebrows pinching together. “What?” “Your theory… is that monsters other than skeletons can sense text magic to some degree?” “Yeah,” she sighed once more, “But like I said, there’s no way to test it.”

“I have more to say on that,” he signed hesitantly, “but you are exhausted and I should return to work. May I come by later? No. Tomorrow. That would be better. Or whenever is convenient.”

Asteri blinked, a little confused, but nodded. “Of course. Tomorrow is fine. You’re welcome anytime, just so you know. That goes for Alphys as well. You can always come by, you don’t need an invitation.” “Thank you. I will see you tomorrow evening, then.” “Sure. And, uh, hey.” She smiled sideways and stood on her toes. “Thank you again, Gaster.” His smile loosened from being so uneasy, and he bent to meet her, letting their foreheads tap together. “It was no trouble. I am glad you called me.”

Nobody else she knew was familiar with colored magic like him (or could analyze it so quickly, come to think of it— he had said he didn’t know much about purple magic, and yet??) so of course she had called him. Still, she understood the sentiment behind his words: when she was in distress, she trusted him enough to turn to him for help. Indeed, how quickly they had moved on from that initial reluctance to reach out to each other. In less than a year they had grown close enough to speak so frankly with each other, to share awful things from their pasts, to see less-than-ideal sides of each other, and to have this, such casual touch.

Asteri’s eyes crinkled. “I’m glad I called you too.”

“Get some rest, my friend.”

“You too! And be safe.”

He nodded, there was a split second of blue, a microsecond of heaviness, a sound she could only think to describe as ‘doodly doodly’, and he was gone. Just like that. She blinked. That was still bizarre to witness.

She turned and went inside. That entire experience was exhausting, so she felt justified in having a bowl of ice cream instead of a meal. She needed to text her friends an apology, one that she was now more confident they would accept, but first she needed a nap.

_ _ _ _

OKAY SO UH. Tumblr said all of part 8 was too long, so this is 8.1, and 8.2 is getting edited next. So have this, and in an hour or two the next part will be up!! This also saves me from writing out the apology to her friends that I forgot to add. But listen. They have been through so much crap together. Kelinn and Sembie are gonna be a little upset, yeah, definitely, but this isn't the first time Asteri one of them has blown up at the other two. It's never fun, but none of them are the type to hold grudges, really, and they all have their own things that set them off. They're really good about communicating. What will happen here is that Asteri will text them and apologize (they probably tried to apologize after she blew up, actually, but she muted the conversation), and they'll talk about why she got upset, and she will tell them that what they said made her feel like they were discrediting her work. And then they'll discuss how to avoid this sort of thing in the future. That's how it's always gone for them. She won't bring up Gaster, or the purple magic, because she isn't about to admit she called the royal scientist and then had a meltdown in front of him. (also it would probably require explaining teleporting, which she isn't going to do.)

ANYWAY. Yeah so. Asteri's got some very internalized issues. BUT TECHNICALLY THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT GASTER WHOOPS. More of him in 8.2. So in the meantime I hope you enjoyed Asteri's emotional trainwreck and Gaster's incredible damage control.

Oh also, he wasn't actually angry at her, when she was being difficult. He was a little frustrated, obviously, but not genuinely angry. That was just what Asteri assumed because she was having A Whole Thing.

Ah, one last thing. Kelinn’s repeatedly calling certain things “hot” and then clarifying “in an ace way,” is indeed a reference to the irl friend I borrowed parts of her personality from.

OK IM OFF TO WORK ON FORMATTING PART 8.2 I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO HEARING EVERY SINGLE THOUGHT ANYONE HAS ON THIS!! (seriously you could give me a play by play of your thoughts while reading this and I would be freaking over the moon about it)

#THIS TOOK ME FIVE BILLION YEARS #AND SEVERAL HOURS JUST TO FORMAT TO TUMBLR #UGGHHH #ENJOY THIS I WORKED SUPER HARD DESPITE ITS SHORTCOMINGS #gonna eat and then do 8.2 #more Emotions are coming your way #seeker writes #⁂ fic #⁂ gaster #⁂ #asteri #seeker oc #hope you enjoyed asteri accidentally and completely obliviously contributing to Alphys’s bisexual awakening #(jk im sure alphys already knows she’s bisexual)

[lollipencil]

Mask of Khonshu

OK, here is an odd combination, but one that I think works. Plus, it allows for some live-action and comic integration. Enjoy and be gentle.

---

In summary, Steven Grant’s day had been a total write-off. From the nightmare that woke him (and he hoped with everything in his body and soul that it really was just a nightmare) to apparently losing time and accidently standing up his date, he was more than ready to abandon what little of the day was left and sleep. Of course, that didn’t happen.

When he dropped the box of chocolates, he noticed something. In another universe, it would have been markings on the floor as if the table had been repeatedly moved. He did notice them naturally, but something else claimed his attention.

A case sat under the table, propped up on a leg. Generic in appearence but the sort of thing Steven definitely would have remembered buying. “Hello, where did you come from?” he muttered as he pulled it out. Light, and whatever was inside did not make a single sound during the journey from under the table to the desk. The two clasps yielded with a satisfying click. What lay inside made Steven gasp.

A mask. Cartonnage in construction, seemingly brand new but clearly old. Waning crescent on the forehead and pure white.

It was beautiful.

Slightly shaky fingers picked it up delicately. Steven didn’t dare say a word, slowly turning the mask in his hands. The linen strips that made up the mask were now visible. Curiously, there were details on the inside too. A waxing crescent sat on the forehead, reddish-brown, in the same place as its mirror on the front. Tiny lines of hieroglyphs ran vertically along where the nose would sit in the same reddish-brown substance.

Almost nothing Steven did seemed to made the hieroglyphs legible. Not his lamp, not his reading glasses. Even leaning in close didn’t seem to do anything. Only once he’d tore his glasses off his face and held the mask up to the faint moonlight coming thought his window, done purely on a whim, could Steven make them out clearly.

“Rise as my fist of vengeance. As my Moon Knight.”

Something about those words sent a shiver thought Steven. Was it not a funerary mask then? Either way, it seemed to lack the facial molding often seen in cartonnage masks. Just a simple oval shape with eyeholes. His fingertips tingled.

For a moment, Steven thought he saw something else. A slight shimmering on those red markings, almost glowing against suddenly faintly visible hieroglyphs lining each strip. Half-aware of the movement, the muscles in his arm slowly began to contract, bringing the mask closer. And closer.

And once it was inches from Steven’s face, it leapt from his fingers.

The instant it touched his face, it seemed to unset, quickly molding to his face as fresh strips of linen began to wrap around his head. Steven tore desperately at them, panicked shrieks muffled by the mask rapidly clamping tighter and tighter. 

But each bandage torn regrew. Backing into a shelf, he dared to flail a hand behind him in search of anything that could be used as leverage. 

And then something seemed to prod at his mind. Slow and almost gentle at first, then hard and fast. Steven screamed like he’d been branded. Clawing wildly at the mask as it took a battering ram to his mind.

Then it found a weak spot. Knocked it clean down and squirmed inside. Overwhelmed, all Steven could do was tremble and whimper as more and more of it wormed its way in, barely aware of the bandages now coiling around the rest of his body. Thoughts paralysed by terror as his mind and body were enfulfed, and-

And then he was calm. Why wouldn’t he be? Nothing was wrong.

He groaned silently as he rolled his shoulders. Picking himself off the floor, Steven took a deep breath in. He felt different. Not bad, just different. Steven strode towards the mirror he’d been standing before several hours ago preparing for a date, and opened it up.

Gone was the all-black look he had gone for. In its place, was the most perfect suit Steven had ever seen. A pure white three-piece with gloves, detailing along the lapels and a tie patterned like the bandages were woven into it. The fabric shimmered in the light, or was it glowing? The mask now looked like a simple cloth mask, a crack-like seam running down his face from a raised crescent on his forehead. “Yeah,” Steven said as he adjusted his tie, “this is better.”

“Indeed.” The words came from both inside his head, and behind him. Old Steven would have jumped and looked for the source of the voice. Hell, if his ears were telling him correctly, he already had. But New Steven, he simply turned on his heel in a single smooth motion.

About two minutes prior, the figure that greeted him would have summoned a scream from his very soul. A large bird skull hovering over a mummifed human body that towered over him, staff in hand. Shining crescent on its chest. Steven knew exactly who this was. From both knowledge that whispered from his memory and power that hummed deep in his bones.

Khonshu tilted his head, “When I felt my mask’s power being used, I had not expected it to be in your hands.” “Well,” Steven blinked up with glowing white eyes, “I dare say this evening has defied both our expectations.” A laugh like a blade singing through the air echoed around the room. “Yes. I dare say we are in agreement about that Steven Grant.” With that, he came closer with a purr, “My Moon Knight.” Khonshu ran his fingers along Steven’s lapels before brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. The motion was too firm, too slow to just be that.

“You know who I am.” “I do.” “And your duty?” That required a pause, but Steven quickly realised (remembered?). “To protect the travelers of the night.” “Perfect.” Khonshu took a step back, the bottom of his staff hitting the floor with a loud thunk, “Now then, my son, shall we begin?”

#my fics #moon knight (2022) #the mask 1994 #steven grant #khonshu #crossover fic