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micheswife · 3 years

Text

Confessions

MICHE ZACHARIAS X SHY CADET

Miche finally tells his crush he likes her. That's it

Miche watched her from Erwin’s office as she left the headquarters to enjoy a well-deserved break. The evening sun highlighted her brunette curls, stopping just below her delicate shoulders. It was a shame really, her hair used to touch her waist when she first joined. She was so incredibly shy and anxious back then, struggling to find her place among younger people that were much stronger than her. He remembered back when she declined the promotion for the sake of her happiness. It had been 3 years since y/n joined the survey corps at the age of 20. She was a late beginner, but her analytical skills, a fateful emotional meltdown and a background in research had soon gotten her a place under section commander Hange. Y/n was not good as a fighter, but she was observant, more than Erwin and Hange. Miche could not help but notice her, she was cute after all. She had flaws, just like everyone else, but the veteran soldier was drawn to her in particular. He couldn’t remember when he felt like that for the first time. Maybe it was when he saw her for the first time, clutching a soiled handwritten application and trying her hardest to put on a brave face. Who knows? Who cares? The important part was that he liked her, she did not know and he was not going to tell.

“What are you looking at Miche? “

“N-nothing, Erwin. Go on…”

Miche went back to focusing on the meeting. y/n had already disappeared in the next lane, so there was no point looking outside. The meeting would go on for hours, as usual, veterans had no holidays.

Meanwhile, y/n made herself comfortable near the quiet riverbank. It was one of the few attractions in the little land of Paradis, especially after the fall of Wall Maria. The serene river glowed red under the now darkening sun rays. Y/n had about 30 minutes to draw something, after which it would get too dark. Problem was, y/n had no idea what to draw. So she just sat there, wondering about her life. It seemed self-indulgent to refuse work only to get out and ponder about herself, but she needed it. The chaos inside the headquarters hardly did her any good. She wanted quiet and peace, but what she had right now was just pure loneliness. Y/n had friends, but nobody close or free enough to sit under the open night sky. So she sat all alone over the wall, the cold breeze ruffling her hair. If only there were someone to hold her.

“Bottomline, all of you must prepare your squads for next month’s expedition. We can’t afford to compromise manpower. Pay attention to the weak members, we need them to come back alive. You all are dismissed.”

Miche walked out of Erwin’s office and went straight to his room that he shared with Dieter, another squad leader. He felt tired, as though he knew what was about to come. A lot of action and a shit ton of casualties, not to forget all the rigorous training he was about to deliver on the cadets.

“What a long day..”

“Tomorrow’s going to be longer, Ness.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you will make it through the expedition?”

Miche scrunched his nose at the odd yet totally reasonable question. Him and Dieter served the scout regiment since their teenage years, yet they never quite got used to the anxiety before impending doom. Against his overbearing stress, Miche gave him a positive answer hoping to lift his spirits.

“I will make it out alive, Ness. The most damage I will end up with is a lost limb, after which I will retire and live a peaceful life. Don’t worry.” Miche finished with his signature scoff, masking his true emotions. The shameless, pretentious display of cockiness was all worth the little chuckle from Ness, the most sociable, tender man among veterans.

They made their way to the dining hall after chit chatting and freshening up. Their tables had the usual serving of bread, soup and vegetables. His eyes scanned the place for the owner of those beautiful, crazy curls, y/n, she should have been back by now. He couldn’t see her anywhere. Usually it was so easy to spot her in her corner seat. Perhaps Hange assigned her some work, but he couldn’t risk revealing his crush by asking the overly-energetic squad leader. So he quietly finished his plate, feeling just a little hint of emptiness because he missed y/n.

“Nifa, find y/n and tell her I want her in the lab tomorrow at 6am sharp.” Mike overheard Hange speaking from a couple of tables away.

“Yes captain.” Nifa quickly finished her meal and left the dining hall and eventually the headquarters. Her face made it clear that she had done this several times now and Miche was not surprised. Y/n was often in her own head and stayed out for a long time. Miche just found it unusual for her to stay out this late. It was cold outside, no person in their right mind would stay out past 8pm. He wished he knew what was going on inside the girl’s head that made her personality so withdrawn, but he did not have the time. He needed to draft a schedule for this week’s training and tests for the cadets. Just the thought of sitting in an office doing paperwork with a candlelight flickering throughout the night made him feel calm. He was extremely skilled on the field, but he liked doing paperwork too. His studious side was something only his immediate squad and other veterans were familiar with. Sometimes he couldn’t help fantasizing about sharing his study with y/n. Aside from his feelings, y/n had the brains to draft a perfect test that tapped into all the necessary skills for the next expedition. After all, that was what she had been doing before joining the survey corps, albeit in a different field. Miche stopped in his tracks as an idea struck him. He felt dumb, so dumb. He had drafted so many tests, all by himself, fully knowing that there was someone that could probably do it better than him. Fully knowing that y/n had been a psychology student, and she had perfected the theory subjects after joining the survey corps. He turned around and approached Hange.

“Would you mind if I borrow one of your soldiers for a while?”

“That depends, Miche, who are you talking about?”

“Y/n, I need her help drafting the tests tonight. I think she can do a good job.”

“You are right.. I’ll let her know.”

“Tell her to be in my office by 9;30 tonight.”

Miche left for his office to begin work, he wanted to finish as much as he could before y/n showed up. Because work was not the only thing he was concerned about. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was dubious, but he needed to do it. It was funny how a few hours ago he thought he’d never confess his feelings, but later created an opportunity to do that exact thing. He couldn’t believe himself.

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It was 9;30 sharp, and Miche heard a soft knock on his office door.

“Come in, it’s unlocked, and take a seat before me.” He said without lifting his head.

Y/n made herself comfortable and glanced over three open books and a single page. Miche was writing down questions.

“Alright y/n, I need your help drafting the question papers for tomorrow’s tests. Of course, you will be exempted from actually taking the test as a reward.”

“Understood, sir”

“Good, now I want you to create 30 questions that combine the concepts of formations, weaponry and strategy. Make them difficult, and make sure to base it upon the last 5 expeditions.”

“Alright-”

“You have 2 hours to finish this.”

“Okay..” y/n walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed a heap of books. Miche raised his eyebrows in confusion,

“How are you going to refer to that many books and finish it within time?” Miche questioned her.

“I will, don’t worry.” y/n’s sudden confidence took him aback.

“Well good luck.”

Time flew by quickly as both of them were engrossed in their work, the only sounds coming from the candle and turning of pages. It wasn’t peaceful to be precise, y/n was turning pages with such aggression it made the section commander steal glances at her. She would flip through the pages and write down important points, constantly checking the time as she worked. Her handwriting got messier as time flew by and Miche couldn’t help but notice. He could tell that y/n totally had the plan to give those cadets a hard time. She had a weak, but cocky smirk the whole time, and Miche was just glad that he was not one of the people that would need to take the test. He knew that expression and aggressive handwriting very well. She always wore that smirk while writing exams, and everytime she came out on top. Miche knew she was overcompensating for her sub-par physique and iron-deficiency that interfered with her ODM skills, but that semblance of confidence on her face always turned him on. Her hair was still messed up, she struggled to keep that twisted fringe out of her face.

“Where’s the ruler?!” Y/n asked loudly, shaking Miche out of his trance.

“Wait…” He fished out a ruler from the clutter in his drawer and handed it to y/n.

“What are you drawing?”

“A wrong diagram of the latest formation.” Y/n replied curtly.

“I see.. Good.”

Miche was organizing his drawer after finishing his work when y/n handed him the tests. It was 11;30 sharp. The ink had somehow gotten between y/n’s fingers. Miche went through all seven pages of three extremely complicated tests and shot a glance at y/n, who looked like she was awaiting his praise. She was sitting with her back straight, wide eyed and messy hair. Miche chuckled, and y/n smiled. She knew she had done those cadets dirty with her questions.

“You have a naughty side, don’t you?” “Kitten” , was the term Miche refrained from using at the end.

Y/n nodded with a cheeky grin. The section commander squinted and got up from his chair, towering over her. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she broke eye contact with him, staring down at her feet instead. Her delicate shoulders now looked tensed up under her transparent, embroidered shoulder shawl. The pile of paperwork didn’t allow him to notice her beautiful blush pink dress. She had embroidered little flowers to accentuate her figure all the way down to her hips.

“You look beautiful in that dress.” Miche blurted out, causing her to blush harder and breathe unevenly.

“Thank you, sir..”

“Look at me when you speak.”

“O-okay..” she slowly raised her head, still not wanting to make eye contact.

“I will be straight to the point y/n… I like you, not just as a comrade.”

“Understood.” y/n was taking quick, short breaths, causing the tall blonde to get on his knees. She had gone back to her timid mouse state and he could no longer read her.

“Are you scared right now?” Miche tried hard to not sound like a creep.

“No, I like you too!”

“That’s -” he began to speak but got cut off.

“More than a comrade, if you were wondering…” she trailed off shyly. Miche kept staring at her, dumbstruck at her honest confession. This whole time he had no idea about her feelings.

"When were you planning to tell me ..?" Miche asked, pulling a chair behind him. He was still leaning towards y/n with an expression of pure shock.

"I… Never planned on saying anything." Y/n's expression saddened as she looked at him with her doe eyes.

"I can understand.". he was telling the truth. The realisation that their confessions were a result of his impulsive decision dawned on him. He couldn't take his eyes off her form. She looked anxious, fondling with her pendant in one hand.

"Do you want to take this further?" Y/n asked with a shaky voice, and his answer was immediate.

"Yes."

She looked straight into his eyes and smiled.

"Can I kiss you?" The 35 year old man felt like a teenager trying to walk on eggshells. The woman before him giggled and nodded in approval, finally lifting her hand from the pendant. She was starting to settle down, although the butterflies in her stomach made it difficult. Miche was about to lean in when she stopped him and got up from her chair.

"I forgot to lock the door." She said naughtly.

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Okay, I really wanted to turn this into a smut, but I am too chicken. 🙈🥺

#miche aot #miche zacharias #aot miche #section commander miche #miche x reader #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #mike zacharias #miche x you #miche fluff #mike aot #attack on titan #snk miche #aot hange zoe #aot hange #aot canon #canonverse #shingeki no kyojin

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

Text

Give Me Love

Chapter Ten

Wc: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

“Master,” Anakin faltered on his way to the piloting chair. His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, unreadable. “I was wondering where you’d run off to after Grievous fled. Looks like you’ve earned yourself another vacation.”

Grievous had thrown him off a building? You’d heard legends about how awful the part-human mostly-droid General was, but you’d never been at the same battle as him before. A small part of you wished to see if the stories people told about him were true-- if he really was the feared Jedi-killer he was known for being all across the galaxy.

“That won’t be necessary this time,” Kenobi was thankful for the banter. It gave him an excuse to get his mind off the searing pain in his arm. “Thankfully, I have Y/n here to fix me up good as new.”

“You’re right. She is extremely capable, isn’t she?”

His eyes twinkled, just slightly so that only you could catch it. You smiled, chest blooming with warmth as your fears were all washed away. Things weren’t different because he’d been gone for so long. He still cared for you, the same as you cared for him. The war couldn’t change that.

“I would trust no one more with my saber arm,” Kenobi grunted again as you began to wrap gauze around his shoulder, fitting it into a makeshift sling.

“Enough flatter,” you hushed them both, though the smile was evident on your face. “Keep this ice on your shoulder and take it off if it goes numb. And don’t move too much-- we won’t know if you broke a bone until we get you x-rayed.”

You let him take over holding the ice pack to his shoulder, reaching into your medcase for some painkillers. You were scraping the bottom of the bottle, honestly surprised you even had any left to spare.

“Lucky you, you get the last two.”

Kenobi grunted in an attempt to laugh, and swallowed the pills you gave him. After waving off your attempts to get him to lie down somewhere, he stood with a groan and braced himself on the back of Anakin’s piloting chair. He began to heckle him, trying to kick him off so you could have a look at his head.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had seen a trickle of blood on his cheek, but that was it.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, but gave his seat up anyway so the injured man could sit. He pressed a few more buttons on the piloting interface, putting the ship on autopilot as he stepped away. “Y/n, I’m fine.”

You were already pushing him by the shoulders to sit on the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying. He sat with a huff, crossing his arms childishly as you turned his face in your hands.

“See?” he mumbled. “Nothing to worry about.”

His forehead had been gashed open, from the top of his hairline to the tip of his eyebrow. Your blood began to beat thicker in your veins, the panic causing your stomach to knot as you got to work dabbing the blood away with some alcohol cloths. It looked worse than it was-- the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it had bled a lot. Head wounds always do.

He winced slightly as you cleaned the wound, the half-second of pain crumpling his face causing your movements to freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you stroked his jaw with your other hand, the one that was holding his face steady. You hoped it would distract him from the sting.

Those blue eyes stared at you the entire time, unperturbed. “It’s okay, really. I’ve had worse.”

You assumed he was right. If this scratch was all he’d come out with after weeks on the battlefield, he was either really lucky or really skilled. You guessed it was both. The evidence of less fortunate encounters rested on his right thigh, clad in a leather-buckled glove. You couldn’t even imagine what that pain had been like.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said this quietly, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear. Anakin brought his flesh arm up to hold your hand to his face, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of your soft, smooth skin. He had desperately missed your touch, your voice, those steely eyes and that gentle strength. After so long wishing you were there to curl up beside him in the off chance he got to rest, you were finally here. Now, he was going to be selfish and make up for that lost time.

“We’ll be right back,” Anakin called to Obi-Wan with his eyes still closed, hand still holding your palm against his cheek. “Y/n’s going to come to engineering with me to help repair my arm.”

“Your arm? You mean the metal one? I didn’t know it was damaged.”

“Just a little waterlogged. Shouldn’t take too long… or maybe it will. We’ll see.”

Anakin stood, the tips of his fingers tickling yours. He led you out of the room, through the halls of the cruiser, slipping into an unoccupied resting room and slamming the lock on it.

“If you’re expecting me to know how to help you with your arm, you are very mistaken,” you admitted. “I know nothing about mechanics.”

Anakin blinked at you, and then laughed. That glorious, glorious laugh. His arms fell to his waist, where he unclasped his belt and then discarded it on the desk. His tabards came next, and then the robes underneath. You ogled him as he stripped, a steady flame rising to your cheeks, thawing out the weeks of grey-nothingness.

“Umm.. Anakin.. what are you doing?”

It was suddenly very hard to swallow as his bare middle was exposed to you, rippling with muscle. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were frozen in your spot, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes so I can properly hold you,” he explained, bending down to dig through the drawers underneath the metal cot. He turned to eye you up and down, shamelessly lingering on every inch of your body. “I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh?” You looked down, seeing the blood stains splattered all over you. “Oh.”

He was pulling a loose-fitting recreational shirt over his head, the same kind that was supplied in all resting rooms for people to wear if they wanted to sleep in something more comfortable. You were still rooted in your spot, forcing yourself to gather enough wits to unzip your field suit.

All you were wearing underneath was a black undersuit, tight enough to leave little to the imagination. It was meant to keep you warm and wick away moisture, not to be seen in by any incredibly sexy Jedi Knights. Your heart hammered in your chest, skin beginning to sweat as his eyes probed into you.

“You need help unzipping?”

“Uh… I got it,” your fingers snapped to your zipper, now that he was watching you, you didn’t want to be a fumbling idiot.

You were glad for when he seemed to become enamored by the state of his clothes, and you knew it was for your sake. Still, it did little to calm the pounding of your heart as the suit dropped to your ankles, every inch of your black-spandex clad body now available to his eyes.

Get it together. Your chest was visibly moving up and down as you fought to control your breathing, almost panting with anxiety. It’s not like you were naked. What a fucking virgin.

He turned from his pile of clothes, those blue eyes making no effort to hide the way they scanned you up and down. All you could do was stand there at his mercy, burning under that stare.

You expected him to frown. To snarl and pull away and tell you to get dressed again. How disgusted, he should be, you thought. How appalled.

You knew you didn’t have the best body. You’d been to enough nightclubs, seen enough people naked in your workstation, watched enough programs on the holonet to know that. You had always wanted to be like Ahsoka and Sabè— they were slim and toned, long and graceful. Their cheeks were sharp, their fingers elegant, and waists tiny. Your thoughts turned to Padme— his past lover— horrifying you further.

You were nothing like her.

That tiny frame, the beautiful face, and the perfect body. She was so smart, so important, and shaped so womanly. You were nothing to compare.

How could he even stand to look at you?

“Okay, I guess I’ll come to you then,” that silky voice teased, and suddenly you were wrapped in a pair of big, strong arms. It took a moment for your breath to return to your lungs before you realized he hadn’t pushed you away, and instead he was clutching you to his body like a starving man.

“I missed you,” he breathed into your ear, cementing this reality. Your body erupted in a flurry of butterflies, warming you from the inside out.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He still liked you. He missed you. Even after seeing your body like this.

“I missed you, too,” you returned his words with emotion thickening your voice, bringing your arms up to wrap around him as well. He sighed at the feeling of your arms on his back, melting further into your neck.

“Wanna move this to the bed?”

He did most of the work shuffling your embrace onto the metal cot, lying down and pulling you so that you were on top of him. You were beginning to think you actually just had a heart condition, because it was beating out of rhythm constantly now, your pulse spiking and temperature rising at this new position.

You loved it.

He was hard, and warm, and strong beneath you. You were able to lay your head on his chest, stare at the exposed skin of his neck as he rested his chin on your head. Your legs slotted between his, so long in comparison to yours, while his arms secured you to his body around your back.

You’ve never felt safer in your entire life.

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder. Were you crushing him? Was he uncomfortable? What if he was and he was just too polite to make you get off? These thoughts caused you to tense up in his arms, suddenly rigid with fright.

“What’s wrong?” He caught onto your worries immediately. His hand smoothed up and down your back, hoping to soothe your tense muscles.

Maker, you were sick of being the insecure one in this relationship. You wanted nothing more to lie on the man you adored’s chest. Anyone else could do it. Why couldn’t you?

Relax. You hissed at yourself. Relax relax relax relax relax—

“Am I making you uncomfortable again?” The pieces clicked in his head, and the brush of his hand against your back stopped. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

“No.”

You wiggled your body, wordlessly begging him to resume his motions. You clutched tighter to his shoulders, dug your head deeper into chest, even turned to plant a small, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” The smile was evident in his voice.

“Yes.”

You could never ask someone to make more of an effort to make you feel comfortable around them than Anakin did. And he did it with no price held over your head, no expectations, no pressures. If your timid nature put him off, he never let you see it. Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. Any other guy, you wholeheartedly believed, would be running in the other direction when they realized you couldn’t even hold eye contact with them for longer than 5 seconds.

But this shyness— it was exclusive to Anakin. You wouldn’t be this way with anyone else, and it frustrated you to no end.

The least you could do was prove that his patience was paying off, and take a leap yourself.

You planted your hands on either side of his body, pushing yourself up so that you were hovering right over his face. Your knees followed, holding your weight as you sat yourself onto his lap.

Scandalous, for the amount of clothes you were wearing.

A surge of confidence ran through you at the surprise that crossed his features. His eyes were wide, confused, as you took his face in your hands, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

This was your domain. You had always been the mynx of the group, luring men in and then leaving them cold. You loved the power it gave you, the ability to promise everything and then take it all away. It left them yearning for you, begging for you. And you loved it.

Sabè and Ahsoka were entertained to no end, watching you string along guys all night just to leave them hanging by the end. It was all a game to you, the flirting and teasing and wooing. You loved to feel needed, to feel wanted, but you never actually planned to do anything more with them.

So when the night ended, and you wanted to go home, you would break the game off and leave them feeling cold, and angry, and cheated. That’s when you’d get cussed out by egotistical whiny men, demeaned and degraded until their little hearts felt satisfied. To be fair, you never promised that anything would happen. It was simple flirting. It was completely on them that they expected things to go any further than that.

That’s why when Anakin came around, you felt like you had been run over by a speeder. He was the only one capable of making you feel like a bug next to him. Every moment he had you tripping and stumbling, your heart stuttering out of time, your cheeks burning with bashfulness, you hated yourself. How could you let one man have that kind of effect on you? It was pathetic.

But now, you were determined to get a little part of your old self back. You wanted to feel in control again, to have that power. He was just a man, after all, and most men were the same. You just needed to dangle, and they’d be all over you.

You continued to smooth his bangs away with the tip of your finger, ignoring the adorable look of confusion he had on his face. Actually, he seemed to really be enjoying himself despite not understanding where this was coming from, so much that his eyes were closing and he was thinking about maybe taking a little nap.

With his eyes closed, it was easier to lean your face in further. Your eyes zeroed in on those perfect pink lips, so full and inviting and soft, even after weeks of brutal combat. You wondered how they would feel on your own, how he would respond to you kissing him. You could imagine the way he might sigh and cup your face, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. Sharp pangs of longing twisted your stomach into knots.

Anakin could feel your soft breath on his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest, fingers tightening on your waist. Were you going to—?

He was ready for it, no matter what it was.

Just as he was sure you were going to press your lips against his, you pulled away, planting a teasing kiss to his cheek instead. With no explanation, you fit your head back onto his shoulder, lying down against his body again.

What was that all about?

He opened his eyes, glancing down to see you resting with your head buried in your neck. You were like a kitten, breathing quickly and softly, a small smile curling your lips.

He dismissed the thoughts to analyze for another time. Right now, his body ached and his head throbbed. Your figure was soft and warm against his, and your calming presence was making his eyelids grow heavy. He decided to take your lead, and followed you off to sleep.

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#give me love #anakin x fem reader #anakin fic

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

Had to split a simply colossal chapter into two smaller ones, so here is the first of those

Now featuring the faes’ true forms and an ungodly amount of simping

“I believed we had our winner when Lady Polendina got that perfect bullseye,” Weiss retold as she walked with her companions through the festival grounds, “but Lady Rose managed to, and I still cannot believe it, split her lover’s arrow with her own!”

“I’m certain there is an innuendo to be found there,” Ilia commented, earning her an offended scoff from the would-be-knight.

“Must you?” Weiss asked in exasperation.

“Believe me, Lady Gigas, she most certainly must.” Blake assured her, “but please continue. I’d love to hear more about our favorite couple.”

“Well, after they had finished utterly humiliating me in the shooting range,” she regaled, “they decided it was time to do so again in the sparring fields.”

“What is it with you knightly folk and sparring?” Ilia asked, seemingly annoyed, “is this your means of courtship? Were Lady Rose and Lady Polendina inviting you to join them in their tent?”

“It is a means to maintain our skills while coming to better understand each other!” Weiss countered, “and just because I now know where my preferences lie does not mean I’ll fall for the first woman to best me in combat!”

“Of course,” Ilia replied, though Weiss found no reassurance in her tone, “after all that honor would fall to Lady Blake, and we all know her preference is for women two times your size.”

“I have never claimed otherwise,” Blake replied with a shrug, “now would you mind procuring us some dinner, before you make our friend pop a blood vessel.”

“Very well,” Ilia sighed, as if she had been burdened with a terrible quest, “I shall meet you both back at camp. Please, do torment the Schnee in my absence.’

She offered them an over exaggerated bow and made her way deeper into the festival grounds, quickly disappearing amidst the crowd.

“You do know I could have just made us dinner, right?” Weiss asked, annoyance clear in her tone.

“And I’m certain it would have been delicious,” Blake replied, “but I’m not certain it would have been worth your sanity.”

“Of course.”

She hated to admit it, but she did not mind this at all. In fact she quite enjoyed the little trading of barbs that they partook in every day. It made for some interesting entertainment, and it allowed her to know Ilia a little better.

She was also quite enamored with the little laughs that would escape the fae whenever she got Weiss to make a fool of herself. No, she most definitely did not wish to question why she found Ilia’s laughter to be so endearing.

Definitely not.

Weiss decided then to archive those thoughts, and focus instead on the second most embarrassing topic in her mind.

“Thank you,” she muttered as they began making their way back to camp.

“No need to thank me,” Blake waved off, “wouldn’t want you two to strangle each other.”

“No, I meant…” Weiss sighed, “thank you for calling me a friend.”

Blake offered her a soft smile that only served to embarrass her further.

“I’m glad I got to call you that,” she replied, “and I’m sure Ilia thinks the same, even if she’ll never admit it.”

That got Weiss to smile back. Her life so far had been one of isolation, she had barely met anyone outside of the few select guests her father would allow into their manor, and had failed to find anyone who cared for her with the exception of Winter and Klein. But now she had been able to adventure beyond the walls of Atlas and find people who she could call friends.

Without Ilia with them to incite arguments and pester her, the rest of the walk back to camp was held in a comfortable silence. Though Weiss certainly missed the opportunity to get back at her friend for the earlier annoyance.

“If I may,” Blake began as soon as they arrived at their camp, “would you mind if I spent the night in my own skin for a change?”

It took Weiss’s mind a long moment to register what she meant by that request, but when it did she jumped to attention.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked, looking around to make sure no one had heard that.

“Our camp is secluded enough,” she shrugged, “and no one ever comes here uninvited.”

“If you’re sure,” Weiss replied, “then I would not mind.”

Blake smiled at her in thanks and began undressing herself. Weiss promptly turned to look away, eyes focusing on anything but her naked companion. What followed was a series of noises that she would fail to describe, though they tempted Weiss to look back at her, if only to make sure that she’s okay.

After a moment of silence she heard the heavy thump of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by Blake’s familiar voice, “you may look again now.”

Where once stood the proud Black Knight of Vale now sat something else entirely. Her form had grown tremendously, now easily challenging that of Lady Xiao Long, and her body had grown completely covered in black fur, with a small white spot on her chest and two others on the back of her now clawed hands.

Her hair too had grown longer and wilder, and the face that hid behind it now took the features of a feline, especially her golden eyes which now reflected the bonfire’s light with an eerie glow. Behind her sway a long black tail, though mostly catlike it was adorned with thorns and purple flowers.

No, not adorned, that plant was as much a part of her body as her tail.

Stunned was perhaps not enough to describe the state in which Weiss found herself right now. She had been raised on stories of the terrifying and monstrous fae that hid in the forests beyond the walls of Atlas, and though Blake’s true form definitely fit that description, she still carried herself with the same grace and nobility that she did in her human skin.

She was still a knight, and she was still Lady Blake.

Unfortunately Blake seemed to take notice of all the staring, “if this causes you discomfort, I could change back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Weiss assured her, “I was simply unprepared.”

Pleased with that response, Blake began to vigorously stretch herself as if she had spent many hours locked inside a tight space - a comparison that was perhaps too appropriate for her much smaller human form - and behind her her tail swayed happily.

“I haven’t been able to don this form since we arrived for the festival,” Blake informed, “it is good to feel like myself again.”

“It won’t be good for long if the local knights decide to take our hides,” the familiar and ever cheerful tone of Ilia’s voice called as she approached camp and unceremoniously dropping a basket between the two of them, “though do enjoy your dinner while you can.”

“Thank you, I certainly plan to,” Blake replied, seemingly unfazed by Ilia’s usual foul mood, “now come, sit, take off that damned glamour for once.”

Ilia stared at her, as if she was trying to will her fellow fae to stop with this nonsense.

It did not work.

“She will not give in, Lady Ilia,” Weiss said, “we’ll already be in plenty of trouble if we’re found in the presence of one fae, a second one won’t make a difference.”

Lady Ilia was unamused by Weiss’s commentary, “and what, pray tell, is your plan in case they do find you in the presence of not one, but two fae?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, standing up so she would be on the same level as her, “I’ll have a heroic last stand where I’ll fight off a dozen knights, before rescuing you on horseback.”

“Is that so?” Ilia asked, trying to keep her lips from twitching.

Weiss stepped closer.

“Oh yes, and then we’d ride off towards the sunrise and you’d…” she paused for a moment, trying to remember something, “what was it you said? Swoon and praise me for my strength and bravery.”

“Didn’t you say you held no attraction towards swooning maidens, Schnee?” Ilia teased, her smile slowly beginning to take hold.

“I’d be simply fulfilling my knightly duties, Lady Ilia,” Weiss insisted.

“You know what, Schnee?” Ilia began, with a smile on her face as she closed the ever shrinking gap between her and the Schnee, “I think I will doff this damned glamour, if only so I can watch you get skewered by those dozen knights while I flee on horseback by myself.”

“I’ll make sure to make it entertaining to you, my lady,” Weiss assured her, now face to face with the smiling fae.

A chuckle escaped Blake’s lips, earning her the most terrifying glare from Lady Ilia. The knight was, of course, unimpressed, seeming to consider a comment in her mind before reconsidering and letting it die without being voiced. A decision that Ilia greatly approved.

“Now will you please cast away that glamour of yours and relax for once,” she said instead.

“Very well,” Ilia surrendered with a sigh.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then it was like the Ilia Weiss had known had shattered like glass, and what stood behind the illusion could only be described as breathtaking.

Eyes of light blue turned into pure glowing white, freckled skin turned to thousands of scales woven together into a tapestry of color. On her forehead now stood two large thorns, almost like a pair of horns, though they exuded the same regal air as a proper crown.

Lady Ilia then disposed of her - now much bleeker looking - dress to reveal a growth of leaves and vines covering her more...intimate places. Still it was not her crown nor her naked form that had Weiss in awe, it was her wings.

They were not unlike those of a butterfly, though no butterfly could ever hope to match their beauty. They were the light of her eyes fractured again and again into more colors than Weiss's mortal eyes could see, all of them weaved together in a pattern that could make even the stained glass of Atlas's grand cathedral look plain by comparison.

It took all of Weiss’s will not to fall to her knees in worship of the beauty she had been given the privilege to bask in. Though it didn’t seem she was able to completely hide her reaction, as when their eyes met she saw surprise in Lady Ilia’s face, and for a moment it was as if every fragment of color in her body had turned to the brightest of pinks.

“Should I give you both some space?” Blake asked, tail swaying slowly behind her.

“Absolutely not!” Lady Ilia shouted, sitting back down and refusing to look back at the still stunned wannabe knight.

It was now Weiss’s turn to shift through several shades of pink. She whispered a silent prayer that the gods would return to Remnant if only so the God of Destruction could completely remove her - and her shame - from the face of this world. This gave her some time to recover, at least enough that she could sit by the campfire with her companions again.

Unfortunately for the both of them that awkward tension lingered over the camp like a thick fog. It did not help that neither of them found it within themselves to look at or even address each other. They left it all to Blake to rescue them from their self imposed punishment.

“Ilia,” she called, “I believe you had questions for me.”

Lady Ilia seemed to take a few moments to recognize that she was being spoken to, but bolted up in attention as she understood the opportunity that was being given her.

“You’ve yet to tell me how you came to join the humans,” she reminded, “or why iron doesn’t burn you.”

That piqued Weiss’s interest as well. She knew Blake had to have some kind of magical trick to don her armor without burning herself alive, perhaps if she could share that secret they could use it to help those fae who wished to live among humans.

“This isn’t some trick you can replicate, Ilia,” Blake explained, killing Weiss’s plan on the spot, “this is not a weapon the unseelie can use.”

Ilia let out a sound not unlike a growl, showing that her teeth were much sharper than before.

“Not everything I do is out of spite for humanity!” She almost shouted, and her body shifted into bloody reds and harsh yellows. Though that display clearly failed to intimidate her fellow fae, earning herself only a raised brow, a reaction that caused her to change colors once more, this time to pinks and blues. “You left us. I want to know why.”

“But I have already--”

“No,” she interrupted, colors shifting over and over through her body, unable and unwilling to settle, “you don’t just change your mind like that for no reason. I want to know what happened.”

Blake sighed, tail wrapping around herself as she seemed to deflate, “this story is quite long, Ilia.”

“So is the night,” Ilia countered, “come, tell us.”

Blake looked at her, then at Weiss, who offered her her most reassuring look, “very well then.”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 51

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Jiang YanLi is asleep.

Her eyes had not strayed from Wei Ying’s face for the majority of the evening and the night, but now, her head is pillowed on her arms, her breaths soft and nearly soundless. The dawn is only a few hours away, the darkness assuming a gentle, mellow glow, as it usually does before giving way to the morning light. Resting in the far corner of the Imperial chambers, uncle’s form is only a shadow draped in blue robes. XiChen is playing, his fingers moving over the strings, the stiff posture of his shoulders giving away the misery in his wrists.

WangJi’s own wrists and fingers ache, a dull, burning sensation that refuses to fade. He is grateful to the pain, for it keeps him alert. Even under the shifting light of the candle flames, Wei Ying’s face is no longer ghastly pale. There is a delicate flush across his cheeks now, a healthy color of dreamless sleep. His mouth is slightly parted, his breaths deep and even. Jiang YanLi had been the one to remove the cumbersome hair ornaments, to brush the thick curtain of Wei Ying’s hair until it shone. It is braided loosely now, a heavy, glistening coil of impossible length. WangJi has moved to touch it more than once, but drawn his hand back each time.

The memory of sliding his fingers through the strands, marveling at their texture, at the rich and lush weight in his hands, is a painful, physical presence. Wei Ying will recover, uncle had said. He will wake. WangJi keeps these words in his heart, a small, burning flame of hope. But there is very little uncle can say about the adverse effects of Wei Ying’s ordeal. Since the time of YanLing DaoRen, the study of resentful energy and demonic cultivation has been prohibited, its practitioners facing a swift and brutal death in every corner of the Empire.

Uncle may be knowledgable on the subject, but he has said precious little, leaving most of WangJi’s questions unanswered.

Wei Ying will wake. Wei Ying will recover. But will he still be Wei Ying?

The Rogue Prince shifts slightly in his place against the far wall. He has long ago settled down to meditate, the sword placed across his knees, the white bandage around his eyes glowing in the gloom.

At first, WangJi had believed his presence to be a family matter. After all, what is more natural than a concerned uncle at the bedside of his ill nephew? But now, WangJi thinks that perhaps Xiao XingChen is here for an entirely different set of reasons. There is no other living person so intimately familiar with YanLing DaoRen, with the corruption caused by the resentful energy, with the symptoms of YanLing DaoRen’s particular type of madness.

If Wei Ying wakes, and he is no longer Wei Ying, will Xiao XingChen take the matters into his own hands? Will WangJi be expected to abide by the man’s judgment?

Silent and still, wrapped in white, the Rogue Prince is not a comforting presence, but a ghastly specter of an executioner. WangJi moves a little closer to the bed, his knees aching sharply, another pain that will keep him awake and alert.

Time passes, slow and thick with waiting.

In the soft light of the early dawn, uncle wordlessly takes XiChen’s place at the guqin. Although XiChen’s skill is significant, WangJi can immediately feel the difference in the richness and the depth of the sound, in the strength and determination behind every note. Each time it wraps around him, uncle’s spiritual power is familiar and comforting, a calming memory, a steadying touch, pressing gently on his weary shoulders. It is a battle now, to keep his gaze clear and focused. He had wanted to wait until Jiang YanLi woke on her own, so that he may close his eyes instead, but sleep is dragging him under despite his aches and pains. Reaching across Wei Ying to wake her, he feels a tremor underneath his arm, a stutter of a breath, a slight impression of movement.

He freezes in place, his own breath locking in his chest. Wei Ying’s eyelashes flutter. His mouth moves, the motion soundless. A tiny line forms in-between his eyebrows.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says, his voice rough with disuse.

The Rogue Prince shifts again, a soft rustle of robes. WangJi can now feel uncle’s sharp gaze on the side of his face. Jiang YanLi sighs deeply in her sleep.

“Wei Ying.”

The eyelashes lift. Underneath them, Wei Ying’s gaze is blank and unfocused. They descend again.

WangJi carefully fumbles for the hand resting on top of the covers, mindful of the neatly splinted wrist. He struggles upright, the pain in his knees forgotten.

“Wei Ying.”

The throat moves. A heavy swallow, then another. Fingers tremble, brushing against WangJi’s own.

This time, when the eyelashes lift, Wei Ying’s gaze is focused. His lips move around a name, but no sound comes. Still, WangJi has seen Wei Ying’s mouth form that shape many times before; he does not need to hear, to know what it means to say.

Lan Zhan

The sound of the guqin ceases. Chaos erupts.

Uncle is first to reach the bedside, reaching down to check Wei Ying’s pulse. Jiang YanLi is awake; she relinquishes her hold on Wei Ying so that uncle may take her place. WangJi is grateful to be allowed to stay where he is, to keep his hand lightly pressed to Wei Ying’s palm. XiChen takes uncle’s place at the guqin, the Cleansing now forced to battle with the clamor of activity. Although her eyes are red and shining, Jiang YanLi’s voice is steady as she sends the guards scurrying out of the Imperial chambers. The Royal Companion and the Council must be informed that the Emperor is awake. More candles are brought in, despite the rapidly brightening skies. Servants are sent for tea, despite the fact that no one will drink it. More servants are sent for food that no one will eat. This all occurs around WangJi, meaningless and unimportant events that cannot compare to the gentle brush of Wei Ying’s fingers, the grounding pressure of his thumb on WangJi’s knuckles.

Nie HuaiSang appears just as uncle moves away from the bed, half-dressed and noticeably disheveled, the state of his hair perfectly reflecting the disorder around him. Jiang WanYin arrives on his heels, tidy where Nie HuaiSang is rumpled, contained where Nie HuaiSang is vibrating in place. Still, the dark shadows under Jiang WanYin’s eyes reveal that he had been the one who had not slept, his neat uniform the same one he had worn the day before.

“I can detect no traces of resentful energy,” uncle says, “However, the Emperor is very weak, and should not be moved. I would prefer to consult with the Head Healer on any further treatment.”

The Rogue Prince had not yet approached the bed, but now he does, a soundless movement bringing him into Wei Ying’s field of vision. Although the man’s smile appears to be relieved, WangJi finds himself turning slightly, just so he can monitor Xiao XingChen while still keeping his hold on Wei Ying’s hand.

“The Head Healer is in the dungeons,” Jiang WanYin says, “and so is her apprentice.”

Jiang YanLi hisses under her breath, turning a disapproving gaze onto her brother.

Wei Ying’s fingers tighten, his expression growing alarmed. He attempts to sit up.

This results in utter commotion, nearly loud enough to drown out the Cleansing altogether. Jiang YanLi tries to convince Wei Ying to stay put, her tone pleading but firm. Uncle grumbles in disapproval, giving voice to a string of words that should never be used in reference to an Emperor. Jiang WanYin curses loudly, a collection of profanities that make WangJi’s ears burn. Wei Ying ignores them all, his grip on WangJi’s hand now painfully tight, his breaths labored from the struggle.

Finally, WangJi can see no other course of action but to slide his arms under Wei Ying’s shoulder blades, and lift him up. Wei Ying is strong enough to latch on to WangJi’s robe with his uninjured hand, but not yet strong enough to remain upright on his own. With some shifting, his upper body settles against WangJi chest, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed in order to bear its weight.

It is an intimate, utterly inappropriate position, and WangJi finds that he cannot look up at his uncle again. At this very moment, with Wei Ying pressed against him, he cannot muster the necessary fortitude to confront uncle’s disapproval. Somehow, in all the shifting and movement, the long braid had slithered down into WangJi’s lap. Wei Ying’s body is a scorching line of heat from his hip to his shoulder, and yet, it is the weight of that braid that that keeps driving WangJi to distraction, the inky black coil a sharp, eye-catching contrast to the white of his robes.

“A-Yuan,” Wei Ying croaks, the feeble sound lost in the ongoing procession of Jiang WanYin’s curses.

Still, Jiang YanLi hears it, immediately rushing to reassure, “He is safe, and well-hidden. The rest are unharmed.”

“A-Sang,” Wei Ying says.

“I am here,” Nie HuaiSang says, only now moving closer to the bed, his posture cautious.

“Tell me,” Wei Ying says.

“Are you stupid?” Jiang WanYin bursts out, “You cannot even sit up on your own. Do you want to die again? Wei Ying, you best lie down right now, or I will put you down myself.”

“You will not,” WangJi says.

He had not intended to speak out loud, but the words come out sharp and cold, leaving silence in their wake.

Nie HuaiSang’s eyebrows climb so high, they attempt to disappear in the messy tangle of his hair. Jiang WanYin has finally been made speechless, although his mouth is still moving; at this moment, he very much resembles Wei Ying, who does not know how to be silent even when his lips are sealed. Jiang YanLi is studying the carpet under her feet. There is an odd expression on her features that WangJi does not recognize.

Is she... going to laugh?

Wei Ying’s body shudders against his own. A soft gasping sound follows the shudder, and WangJi looks at him in alarm.

Wei Ying is... also laughing.

WangJi feels his face heat.

Jiang YanLi delicately clears her throat, “Sect Leader, if you wish to speak to the Head Healer, I am sure my brother would be pleased to provide an escort. It may be prudent to do so now, before the Council realizes that they had failed to impose any restrictions on visits to the Wen Sect.”

His face still burning, WangJi does not look up to see his uncle agree, or to watch him take his leave with Jiang WanYin.

No longer laughing, Wei Ying slumps with a sigh, forcing WangJi to wrap an arm around his waist in order to keep him upright. His temple presses to the side of WangJi’s neck.

“My protector,” he whispers, the teasing note obvious despite the weakness of his voice.

“Shameless,” WangJi hisses back, but there is no real heat behind his words.

It is hard to muster any heat, when most of it has collected in his face and throat. Wei Ying’s hair is soft against WangJi’s skin. His temple is warm and full of life. The smell of pears is heavy now, carrying with it memories of a mouth pressed against his own, a gentle huff of a laugh against his lips.

The sounds of the guqin have gone on uninterrupted, but he can practically sense his brother laughing at him. He has a feeling that the Rogue Prince is laughing silently as well.

It is not all due to WangJi, their amusement. The Emperor is alive, awake, and well enough to tease. The relief in the air is palpable and infectious. Under the circumstances, it does not take much, to be cheerful. WangJi feels it himself, a light bubble of air in his chest, bright with contentment. The mortification of being so intimate in front of so many witnesses cannot be simply willed away, but he finds that it can easily be overshadowed by joy.

“A-Sang,” Wei Ying says, “Tell me everything.”

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #longish? chapter?#i'm gonna have to shorten all the links up top bc 50 chapters #ridiculous #someone i love to the moon and back #reminded me that fan fiction is emotion driven #not plot driven #just as i've been suffering with the coming conclusion #and the fact that i hate writing the A-HA! moments at the ends of mysteries #and tend to fumble in general with plot laden endings #so i've got a new fire burning under my ass #ily merelhyn #lots of love to my reader chickens

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failbaby · 4 years

Note

Ooh can you do Morgan body language analysis please 🥺❓

Yep! Sorry it took forever for me to get back on these, I’ve been busy

So, IMO, Derek has a “D” personality type on the DiSC model. (Characteristics include confidence, personability that translates to skill at leading a team, competitiveness, and a fear of being taken advantage of.)

I’m gonna contrast this with Hotch, who I’d place as a “DC” personality type (logical, analytic, detail-oriented, and careful), just because I analyzed him already and most of you have probably read that post.

They both have dominant/leadership-oriented personalities, but there’s a really interesting difference between them: Derek is much more emotional and perceptive in cases where I think Aaron has a tendency to be very calculating and (at times) dismissive/not understanding of others’ thoughts and feelings.

If you watch carefully, you’ll notice there’s a major difference in how they interact with people they percieve as more vulnerable.

Just like Aaron, Derek displays dominant/aggressor body language in situations where he feels threatened or upset, such as jutting the chin forward (leaving the neck and abdomen exposed and unwatched—‘hit me if you dare’), scowling, and broadening the shoulders:

In a work environment where a pecking order is important, Derek also establishes himself as a dominant member of the team by sitting/standing in ways that A. take up space and B. leave vulnerable parts of the body exposed (sorry these pics are grainy I just got everything off of google images):

He also strictly maintains eye contact and takes imposing posture when interacting with other similar men (I don’t want to say alpha male personality types but that’s all I got):

The Big Difference is that Aaron does these things (scowling, acting imposing and fearless, etc.) almost ALL THE TIME regardless of the situation, and Derek really only does that when he’s dealing directly with an environment or person who he perceives as a potential threat to his safety or status.

As a sociable dominant personality type (as opposed to Aaron’s analytical dominant), he’s much more willing to soften up and do what’s necessary to make his team feel more comfortable and happy around him, which includes making himself more vulnerable and less imposing around people who might percieve him as a threat.

For example, in this scene where he’s having a heart-to-heart with Spencer (a younger, physically weaker member of his team who looks up to him), he bows his chin, softens his facial expression, and gets in close to him to reassure him:

He doesn’t feel threatened by Spencer, so he doesn’t want Spencer to feel threatened by him!

He also does this with the women of the team, children and adolescents they encounter in the field, and victims of violent crimes.

Here, look how soft he is with Penelope and Ellie:

And then again with Spencer:

VS with Hotch:

So yes!

TL; DR: what we can take away from Derek’s body language is that he’s a dominant personality with a big soft spot, and he’s not afraid to loosen up around people who need some extra love :)

#ask #characters #long post

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saffronwritings · 3 years

Text

Be There

warnings: Parental in Hospital due to health, cursing

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

A/N: I get very nervous thinking about posting my work on tumblr but I figured I'd give a whirl. Please be nice :) Also I do not own the banner and if you want me to credit you let me know!!

Bakugou had noticed that you had been off from the moment you stepped into class this morning. Your normal cheerful demeanor had been shifted into one that was just complacent. Something about the way you forced yourself to talk to the rest of your classmates had bothered him immensely.

Although he would never admit it, he cared deeply for you. He had fallen for you little charms and even thought that you quirk was rather handy, being able to manipulate others with your hypnotic voice. There had been times where he thought you were using your powers against him, but plenty of times you had reassured the hot head that you only use it when necessary.

You had quickly found your way into the Bakusquad, as you had quickly bonded with Jirou and Mina. Not only that, but you seemed to not mind how ill-tempered Bakugou was. Even with his outbursts towards you at times, you seemed to just smile and act as if he had not hurt your feelings. He had noticed the times he had and made sure to apologize in solitude because he dared not show his soft side to the rest of his friend group. You personally enjoyed seeing these softer sides of the angry boy as you felt like he could confide in you. ‘

However, today was so much different. How could you have changed so quickly overnight and what was the cause of it? Did someone from another class say something to upset you once again? Those general studies students tended to say that your quirk was cheating and that you did not deserve your spot in class 1-A. Bakugou had time and time again scared away those sidekicks into submission. You had not said anything that was bothering you, and although the rest of the Bakusquad seemingly had not noticed, Bakugou did.

He stalked after you once class had let out and he had grabbed your wrist while in passing, dragging you into a vacant classroom. This had startled you enough to let out an embarrassed squeak. He closed the door behind him so no wondering eyes could disturb the two of you. “What’s going on Bakugou?” You asked confused, still seemingly dazed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He bluntly stated, cutting straight to what was bothering him.

Your gaze suddenly shifted from confusion to acknowledgement. Of course, he was going to notice something was wrong. He was scarily perceptive. You waved your hand in front of you and attempted to fake laugh at his question. “Silly, Katsuki.” You teased, attempted to brush past him back out into the hallway. “Just tired from studying last night is all. We have a lot of our final tests coming up.” You lied, hand on the sliding door. He just scoffed and you could feel his eye roll even without looking at the blonde boy.

He watched you carefully as you stalked out of the classroom, avoiding the confrontation he was attempting to have. However, he was not going to force you to tell him anything you did not feel comfortable with. It was not his place to demand information from you. The last thing he needed was you pushing him as to why he wanted to know what was wrong. The thought alone almost set off tiny explosions in his hands. He wanted to squash whatever was bothering you to bring that smile of yours back onto your lovely face.

Kirishima had bothered him from time and time again about asking you out for a date. No matter how many times the explosive boy tried to correct him, Kirishima knew Bakugou was smitten for you. He kept it to himself, as much as he wanted to tell the rest of the squad. Bakugou scoffed and walked out of the classroom moments after you. He caught up with you and the rest of his classmates in the lunchroom. His apatite was gone though, watching you go about your day in a lackadaisical manner. Watching miserably from the sidelines had affected his own attitude.

“Jeez Bakugou, if you’re not hungry today, I’ll gladly take your food for you.” Kaminari perked up, staring at his uneaten lunch. “Piss off, Sparky.” Bakugou barked back immediately. “You’ve been so crabby today, so much so more than usual.” Kaminari replied, backing away from the blonde. He hated to admit it, but the stupid lightning bolt was right. Was he really going to let your bad day also affect him? Frustrated, he attempted to try and eat part of his lunch. When you gave him a concerning look, he just turned away and ate in silence.

Things really took a turn for the worse during your hero training. The two of you had been paired up together in a simulation fight. You had to retrieve a citizen from a collapsing building and fight off your other classmates. You were up against Momo and Ojiro. This normally would have been a cinch for the two of you, especially with how well you worked together. Even though your quirk relied on consciousness and influence, your combat skills were above the rest. Well, aside from Izuku and Katsuki that is. However, with your mind out of focus, you were easily overtaken by that Creation quirk of Momo’s. Aizawa had called the match and suddenly you heard multiple explosions go off.

“Bakugou, you need to chill.” Kirishima said, trying to lighten the mood up. “No! We lost because the Siren girl can’t get her head together!” He shouted, staring daggers over to you. You flinched back at his outburst. “Why can’t you just get over whatever it is you’re upset about and do your damned job as a hero! You can’t be this out of focus in the field or no agency is going to take you!” He barked more. There was silence throughout the entire class. You turned away to head towards the changing rooms when Present Mic had arrived at the simulation grounds, calling your name. The look of concern only etched itself further on your face seeing the look in Present Mic’s face. Everyone’s attention then turned from Bakugou to you. Watching as Mic whispered something to and watching your face change from upset to distraught.

Immediately you were quickly following Present Mic out of the training arena. The class erupted in questions, wondering what was going on. Aizawa quieted the class and tried to get the rest of his students back in order. “Listen, we need to finish this lesson. Unless you all want extra homework.” He threatened. The class quieted and returned to the lesson. However, something was not sitting right with Bakugou. Almost instantly he was regretting taking his anger out on you. “What do you think Y/N was taken away for?” Jirou asked quietly while watching Todoroki and Ochaco go against Hagakure and Iida. “I don’t know, it looked serious though.” Kirishima noted, with Kaminari nodding along to his statement. “I hope she’s okay.” Mina whispered. “She will be. At least I hope she will be.” Bakugou thought.

The next morning was even worse. Bakugou had barely slept a wink. He had texted you after school apologizing for exploding on you, and that he was just worried about you. You did not respond to his message. Even worse, the text message was not even opened. When he arrived in class, you were missing from your usual spot. If there was anyone who was almost as stubborn as Iida about getting to class early, it was you. “Is Y/N not here yet?” Kirishima asked from behind Bakugou. He had not even noticed he was standing and staring idly at your desk. “No.” He answered before going over and sitting down at his own desk.

The rest of the squad had arrived and found themselves gathering around Bakugou’s desk like they did every morning. Usually he hated this, but when you were around, he did not mind it as much. Your presence was clearly missing, and it was obvious that it bothered him. “Had no one heard from Y/N? I tried texting her last night, however, she didn’t answer me.” Mina had asked, looking at her phone once again. “Nothing on my end, I sent her a text as soon as we got out of school.” Jirou interjected. “Same here.” Kirishima chimed in. Bakugou stayed quiet, only getting more worried. He had tuned out their continuing conversation until Aizawa had entered the room. The Bakusquad had quickly dispersed and sat in their assigned seats.

There was a grim look on Aizawa’s face, and it had sent an unsettling feeling into Bakugou’s stomach. Once the class had quieted down, Aizawa had taken in a deep breath before addressing the classroom. “Y/N will not be attending school for the rest of the week. Yesterday her mother was admitted into the hospital and is in critical condition. She will be staying by her side in the hospital.” He stated, making the class gasp in surprise. Bakugou’s heart could have leap out of his throat. You could hear a pin drop from the class being so quiet. “We will write a condolence card for her and send it to her address by the end of the week.” He continued to speak but all Bakugou could hear was ringing in his ears. Had he heard his teacher correctly? Your mother was extremely ill. You had to have seen her health declining and had not said a word to anyone. Up until yesterday, you had played it off as if everything in your homelife was okay.

Aizawa had changed the subject back to what he was teaching yesterday. He was reviewing the material that was covered the day before. However, Bakugou could not stop the crackling in his hands. He slammed his hands on his desk and stood up. The eruptions in his hands going off, burning a spot on his desk. A few students jumped, however, most of them were used to Bakugou’s outbursts. Except, this time he was dead quiet. Everyone turned around to look at him, but before Aizawa could say a word, Bakugou was walking out of the classroom. “Bakugou! Where are you going?” Kirishima yelled after him. However, Bakugou tuned him out. His pace quickened as he traveled through the school. He did not bother to stop at his locker or change into his normal shoes. As soon as he stepped foot outside of the school gates, he broke into a sprint.

You had invited him over to your house once. Asking him if he could help you study for one of your exams. He found his feet doing all the work as he raced towards where he knew you lived. He was not sure what he was going to do once he arrived, but he knew he had to be there. Before he knew it, he noticed the street coming to an end and he knew around the corner was your house. Suddenly, he got extremely nervous, just leaving school to go comfort you. Would you even let him after yelling at you yesterday? He had to try. He slowed his pace as he approached your house.

You were sitting on your front step, weeping quietly with your head in your hands. His heart broke in half seeing you in such a state. You were just beyond the gate, but he was so hesitant to push the gate open. When he heard your soft crying turn into full on sobs, that is when he found the courage to push the gate open and was by your side in the matter of seconds. Before you could even process what was happening, he had pulled you into his embrace and held onto you tightly. “Katsuki??” You asked in surprise. “I’m sorry. I should not have yelled at you yesterday. You needed me to be there for you. So, now I am. And I want you to cry. I want you to feel safe around me. I’m never going to let you feel that way again.” He explained, holding onto you as if he was afraid to lose you too.

You started to cry harder and gripped onto him tightly. The two of you had stayed like that for a while. He just let you cry because that is what you needed. He dares not judge you for feeling the way you did right now. He was going to be there for you from now on. “Thank you.” You finally whispered once you had caught your breath from heavily crying. “Don’t thank me, dummy.” He answered back, “It’s what I should have done from the get-go. When Aizawa told the class what happened, I flung myself out of my chair to get my ass here.”.

“But why?” You asked, almost bewildered. You had pulled away from his embrace to wipe your wet eyes. You felt his calloused hand carefully caress your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your bloodshot eyes. “Do I have to spell it out to you?” He huffed. In that moment, you had noticed his face turn a bright red. Even though you had just lost your mother and your heart yearned for her, for just a moment you had felt it flutter. “This has to be the shittiest timing, Y/N. I don’t want to take away from your pain, in any way…” He started to say, tripping over his words. You immediately pulled him into another embrace, throwing him off guard.

“You will never take anything away from me. Thank you for being here for me. Thank you for always caring about me, Katsuki.” You whispered, making the boy even more flustered. He huffed in protest, but he knew he enjoyed the attention. The two of you separated from the embrace and Katsuki felt bold enough to lean in to kiss you, softly but a bit forcefully on the lips. This action truly shocked you for a moment. He quickly pulled back realizing what he had just done. “I shouldn’t have done that. I should go.” He said quickly, standing up from his seated position. Before he could bolt out the gate, he heard you say his name. He turned around only to find your face inches from his, making him blush immensely. You pecked him on the cheek and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” You asked. And although your eyes had been puffy and bloodshot from crying, snot was dripping down your nose, and it looked like you had not slept in days, he still found you so incredibly beautiful.

“Tch. Fine.” He grumbled, following in your lead, but not letting go of your hand.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #mha x reader #mha #mha imagines #bnha bakugou #bnha katsuki #reader x bakugou #my hero academia x reader #my fics #boku no hero academia #bnha oneshots #bnha blurb #bnha fluff #mha oneshots #mha fluff

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Documented for Posterity, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

1:20 Method 1: Subject attempts to sleep off effects

In those first few halcyon moments before Yuzuri reaches for the lamp, Suzu has high hopes. It’s not the first time he’s slept off an inappropriately pitched tent; college dormitories and trips to the field don’t leave much in the way of privacy. He prefers other methods, of course, but as he settles down against a pillow of his jacket and a blanket of Yuzuri’s cloak, he’s got a good good about his chances.

But then her fingers flip the flame down to the faintest flicker, light dancing through the glass with a demure wave, and--

Well, now he’s just locked in a dark room with stiff cock and a girl dressed not only in a clinging chemise-- there’s a flirty ripple of lace sewn to the curve of her decolletage that he’s personally finding very hard not to dwell on-- but also smelling like apples and vanilla. His heart gallops triple time in his chest, not sure if he’s ravenous for pie, biscuits, or her cunt.

It’s a bit much, that’s what he’s trying to say.

“It’s hot in here,” he complains, because anything else will almost certainly end with him doing a walk of shame in his long johns and boots across the university’s main floor. “Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”

“Just try to sleep already,” Yuzuri sighs, impatient, somewhere behind his head. He can’t see her; she’s moved away from the lamp’s hazy glow, and from the sound of it, is back at the table, pen scratching at the rough parchment of the page.

Experiment one, she must be writing, in the looping, fat hand he’s seen in the log book and on placards in the hothouses. Subject trying to sleep away erection of middling size. In this researcher’s experience, it should only take fifteen minutes to reduce to its normal size, though the standard deviation for cocks--

“I can hear you thinking.” Her pen skips to a stop. “Stop it.”

“It’s hard.” He rolls over, half on his stomach before he’s reminded-- ah yes, not a good plan having that touch...anything. Even if it’s just cold storeroom floor. “I’m very smart, you know.”

“I can’t see how.” He can’t see her, but he knows how her mouth is pinched, elongating the elegant oval of her face, and her arched brows drawn down to look like the sternest librarian fantasy. “It’s not like you do it regularly anyway.”

He nearly corrects her-- once a day, whether he needs to or not, just to keep the pipes working and his sheets clean-- but she’s not talking about that.

“Hey.” Suzu’s in no position to put his hands anywhere near his hips, but spiritually, they’re there, arms indignantly akimbo. “I have plenty of ideas--”

“Then have more of them about sleeping,” she informs him, stocking feet scuffling on the floor. “It’s impossible to have results if a test subject refuses to participate in the experiment.”

“Fine.” His arms fold across his chest in a huff. “I will. But you should know--”

“Suzu.” The way her mouth wraps around his name, so soft and resigned, has every bit of him standing at attention in all the best worst ways. Or worst best. He can’t quite decide. “Shut up.”

2:10

Suzu would like the record to show-- if Yuzuri would be kind enough to oblige him, which he knows she won’t be-- he does give it an honest effort.

Five minutes of honest to goodness silence settles him-- at least, enough to realize he’s too scrawny to ever lay on a stone floor in comfort. His shoulder blades jut oddly into the mortared edges, and when he rolls into his side, his ribs grate. It’s cold too; even in his woolens, Suzu feels the frosts of winters past riming his spine. And quite honestly, warm as his coat is, it’s nothing next to a good down pillow. Most bedding doesn’t smell of lab chemicals and yesterday’s lost dumpling. And Yuzuri’s cloak--

Well, it’s soft, warm-- and it smells like her. And, fool that he is, Past-Suzu thinks that’s a plus. Oh, Past-Suzu just catches that hint of dessert on the air and sticks his nose right in, huffing down that sweet scent of apple crisp, letting the soft, flickering of the lamp lull him. He can’t see her, but line of sight has never been necessary, oh no, not when a semi-eidetic memory meets an imagination as overactive as his.

Yuzuri sits up on her chair, one stockinged leg tucked beneath her, the other dangling, foot arched as her toes strain to press against the floor. Her golden hair falls over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, chemise sliding down its pale cusp. It’s chilly in here; she raises a hand to guide it back up. Her fingers hesitate-- maybe it would be better if they shared heat. Suzu, after all, looked so cozy there on the floor. Angelic, even, with the way his hair curled over his jacket.

Slowly, she stands, padding over, dropping to her knees. Her breasts strain against the soft linen of her chemise, nipples aroused by the contact, her hand reaching--

“Nope!” Suzu bolts upright, hunching over his knees. It’s a bit of a feat, now that his tent had expanded into a pavilion. “This is...definitely not working.”

The valve squeaks, the shadows deepening as the lamp brightens. The glare Yuzuri levels at him over the table describes all the way that his fantasies will stay firmly in the realm of imagination, aphrodisiac-induced arousal or not. “Really?”

“Yes,” he informs her a little more manic than he would like. “It’s giving me far too much time to think.”

Yuzuri hum, flatly. “I can see how that might be dangerous to your health.”

“It’s not funny,” he snips, head snapping over his shoulder. “I’ve had an erection for two whole hours. That’s-- that’s at least a whole hour longer than I’ve ever done before.”

The pen scratches across the page, but he could swear he hears a muttered, hour fifty-five.

He frowns. “What was that?”

Yuzuri doesn’t bother looking up. “What was what?”

“You said something.”

“No.” Her mouth forms the word carefully as she crosses her ankles, legs drawn tight together from knee to thigh. “I didn’t.”

His mouth purses, annoyed. “I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.”

“I’m handling it with the seriousness it deserves,” she informs him primly, her tone implying another half to the sentence, which is none.

“I’ll have you know it hurts.” At least it does now, now that he’s said it. Stings, quite honestly, like skin pinched in a hinge, too full for too long.

For the first time since this whole debacle started, a real thrill of fear rushes through him. The whole situation is ridiculous and mortifying and carries the vague threat of ending his career if someone with more pearls to clutch than Yuzuri found out he was sporting an erection in an educational institution, but it hasn’t seemed dangerous. But now he nudges his cock, just the barest bit, and tears spring to his eyes. Something might actually be medically wrong. This could have lasting implications.

“Oh, honestly.” Yuzuri squiggles in her seat, thighs rubbing together in a way that brings new meaning to the words painfully hard. “Can’t you just jack yourself off?”

Suzu, age twenty-five, of sound body and mind, nearly has a cardiac event.

“What?” He stares at her hard enough to pop a vessel-- which he doesn’t, but it’s a close thing, considering. “Right here?”

“N-no, Suzu!” A blush blooms over the rosy rounds of her cheeks. “I’m not just telling you t-to whip it out in front of me!”

He nearly asks why not-- it’s not like it will be the first penis she’s seen outside of a clinical setting-- but his teeth snap shut around the impulse. That’s one of those things that could be career limiting, if one considered the bedroom a place of employment. Which he didn’t; it was his sanctum sanctorum, the place in which he rested his head at night, but--

Well, if he had a reason to be employed in there, he might. He’d at least like to be conducting interviews, instead of, ah, self-review.

“I meant that you could, I don’t know, go around the corner.” She waves her hand vaguely towards the back of the stockroom. “Use a shelf for cover or, um, something.”

“There’s a closet,” he says, because elaborate self-sabotage could be listed on his curriculum vitae under professional skills. “We use it for storing light sensitive materials.”

Against all reason, she actually lifts a finger to her chin and ponders the suggestion. “You’re able to do it in the dark?”

He could find his cock blind, deaf, mute, and one-handed, but that strikes him as a relatively unimpressive feat, considering how it’s attached to him.

“Yeah,” he says instead, “if you, ah, don’t mind.”

There is a distinct, heavy hesitation before she replies, “Well, it’s not like you’ll be in the same room.”

“No,” he agrees, technically.

“I think--” she worries at the edge of a page, thoughtful-- “that as long as we’re, ah, recording our findings, then it’s fine to be...scientifically rigorous.”

He swallows, hard. It makes a noticeable thunk.

“Right,” he says, weakly, rising to his feet. “Scientifically...rigorous.”

2:15 Method 2: Subject attempts manual stimulation

“What?” Suzu squawks, peeping out of the closet. “You can’t write that!”

Yuzuri flattens the journal against her chest-- that’s not helping what going on down in his whole...Pavilion Street reconstruction down south. “Why not?”

“People are going to read that!” He makes a terrible, uncoordinated swipe for it. She easily sidesteps him, giving him a withering glare. There was a reason Kirito always asks Obi to be on his team for the little snow battles him and his rascally friends enacted on the quad and not Suzu.

“That’s the point,” Yuzuri deadpans, “it’s being documented for posterity, like all you scholars love.”

“Right, yes, I get that.” He shuffles, cock bobbling painfully in his pants. Really, something has to be done about this. “But Shidan will read it.”

Her mouth pulls thin; or at least it would, if her lips weren’t full and quantifiably kissable no matter their configuration. “Shidan is a person, yeah.”

“Which means I’ll have to talk about it.” He licks his lips, nervous, and Yuzuri watches him with ever-increasing incredulity. “In, you know, a meeting.”

She stares for a long moment, then opens the journal with a sigh.

2:15 Method 2: Subject attempts manual stimulation to self-administer proposed course of treatment

“That’s better.”

Yuzuri glares up at him. “Just get in the closet already.”

2:19

This should be easy. After all, Suzu always joked-- with Obi, alone, door locked after surreptitiously checking the halls to make sure no one was lingering too close to hear through the solid oak-- that if they’d handed out doctorates for masturbation, he’d have three. He is, in as much as one could be at a private practice with no grading rubric, a professional.

But as soon as he unbuttons the fall of his trousers, letting his cock sit heavy in his hands, he’s just...lost.

It should be a relief. When he’s left to his own devices, there’s no bigger rush than making it to his room before midnight, work finished-- or at least, avoided-- and stripping down to nothing. Just him, his bed, and a bottle of vanilla-scented oil, with the whole night before them.

But now he stands here in the dark, cramped closet, the scent of herbs so heavy he can feel it pressing against his skin, and even with his aching cock, he just can’t quite, well--

Get it up. No, wait, it’s definitely up, but--

But there’s nothing sensual about this. No romance. No chemistry. Like the dates Yuzuri always complains about-- no dinner first.

“How’s it going?” The wood muffles Yuzuri’s voice, but he can hear each word as crisp as an accusation. “Getting close?”

Suzu’s tongue falls in an exasperated cluck, swiveling his neck toward the door. “Just how long do you think this takes?”

“In my vast experience,” she drawls, her tone vibrating at the frequency glass shatters, “you should already be done.”

He’s tempted to balk, maybe even disparage her previous paramours, but, well-- if she was here, her soft, slender hands wrapped around his cock, whispering encouragement into his ear, Suzu doubts he’d fare much better. His cock gives a good twitch of agreement, and promptly continues to get absolutely nowhere.

“Well,” he manages, mouth utterly dry-- another factor making this whole venture both uncomfortable and unlikely-- “I can’t do it when you’re right out there, listening.”

Even through the door her sigh is heavy, frustrated. “I’m taking notes!”

“I don’t see why,” he snaps, giving his shaft a vengeful stroke. It, like all the others, feels good while also being irrevocably, disappointingly wrong. “It’s not like you’ll be describing this in Methods.”

“Because if I take notes, this is experimentation,” she explains haltingly, “and if I don’t, then...”

Then he’s just a young man fruitlessly jerking off in a closet while she listens, no matter the details. She could sit back at the table, of course, folding those shapely legs beneath her, biting her lip with a longing glance over her shoulder but--

But it wouldn’t change anything. He’s still in a closet, hand around his cock, hoping for some relief, and she’s enabling him. The science is the only thing between her and a scandal.

“It’s just...” His palm squeezes the base of his shaft, a spark of arousal zipping up his spine. “It’s like trying to pee when there’s someone in the next stall.”

There’s a long moment of silence, enough that he wonders if she’s wandered away after all, ready to wash her hands of the whole thing. It’s his problem, after all, not hers, and she--

“Suzu.” Her voice is low, the kind of deep-throated whisper that sends static swirling over his skin. “Are you a shy pisser?”

His cheeks sting, heat prickling like a rash. Unfair-- by any natural law, or at least the ones in his repertoire-- he shouldn’t have the blood to spare for a blush, let alone one that fully threatens to expand its horizons in either northern or southerly direction. Any moment now he’ll start to get dizzy, maybe even pass out in this tiny bolthole of a closet, and Yuzuri will have to drag him out with his pants around the ankles before she goes and writes something like, subject’s delicate constitution precludes finishing trial, and--

“NO ONE LIKES PEEING IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.” His breath huffs out of him in ragged pants, and for once it has nothing to do with the state of his erection. Well, tangentially it does, but-- “honestly, Yuzuri.”

“Strange stance to take when you can pee on any tree you want,” she mutters, just audible through the oak. “Now are you going to finish this up or what?”

Suzu looks down at his cock-- still painfully hard, ridiculous jutting out from the ruin of his trousers-- and glares.

“Why are you even still here,” he grumbles, shoving it back behind his fall, buttons fumbling out of the grip of his trembling fingers. “Nothing about this is arousing.”

2:20

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Yuzuri says, incredulous, for what had to be the twelfth time since he’s stumbled out of the closet, desperately aroused and with no relief in sight. The repetition has not made the observation any less embarrassing. “You must do it all the time.”

Suzu hunches over his knees, willing himself to disappear. Like everything he wants, invisibility remains frustratingly elusive. “I’m not talking to you about-- about--”

“Jerking off?” Her brows make a rousing bid for her hairline. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

He shrivels sullenly. “It’s not fair.”

Yuzuri sighs, but she tips her head to look at him, hair falling like a solid sheet of gold over her shoulder, neck curved in an elegant line, ready for a mouth to--

Ugh. Suzu buries his face between his knees. His suffering is unending.

“How is this unfair?” She asks, annoyance adding spikes to every oblivious word that falls from her lips. “Just because your genitalia is external and obvious?”

It should be impossible to be so angry and so aroused at the same time, not without blissfully passing out to avoid both states, but here he is, still conscious. Still conscious, and the tatters of his brain-to-mouth filter frittered away by the ache in his crotch.

“It’s not fair,” he seethes raggedly, “because nothing is happening to you!”

The silence his shout leaves behind is deafening. What was he thinking? He never raises his voice, not like this, and especially not at Yuzuri. Yuzuri who could be doing anything else instead of sitting here, nursing him through the worst night of his life.

“What?”

He can barely bring himself to look up, to look at the confusion furrowing her perfect alabaster brow.

“I know it’s not your fault, but--” he should really stop himself, but an object in motion stays in motion, and there’s no friction he can provide that can stop the truth from barrelling out of his mouth-- “here I am, experiencing death by erection, and you--” he waves his hand vaguely in her direction-- “are immune or something.”

“Immune?” The word hisses between her teeth, sharp as a page’s edge. “Suzu, I’m dying. I-- I can barely sit upright, but someone has to write this down.”

Suzu stares. Properly this time, gaze fixed to her face, and-- she’s flushed, pink blooming around the gathering at her collar, and twinging up her neck, flooding her cheeks. “W-what?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’“ she snaps. “It’s not like I’ve been hiding it! Just because I don’t have external genitalia doesn’t mean I’m not--”

She throws up her hands, the noise she makes halfway between a grunt and a scream,all frustration. Her one arm drops, wiping at her forehead--

Her forehead, which is coated in sweat. Wiped by her hands, which are trembling. Right above her eyes too, too dark even for the dimness of the room. And her thighs, they rub together, pressed tight at their apex--

His mouth dries. Her chemise is wet, right where it settles over her crotch. The scent in the room now is not just herbs and alcohol, but something earthy and tantalizing, something he’d like to taste on his tongue.

“Yuzuri,” he says slowly, heart pounding in his ears. “Are you...horny?”

She turns to him with those too dark eyes, breath huffing out her small nose.

“You,” she sighs, trembling fingers pressing to her temples, “are an utter moron.”

#suzuri #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #somewhere on the citrus scale but god knows where it is #definitely not a lemon but limey??? maybe???#listen I know I said this would show up in February #but obviously things rarely work out the way i wish they would #i'm hoping to have the third and definitely final part out this August #but that all depends on bingo and obiyukiweek!

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Dear John

@purfectpurple asked for question number 8.

(why won’t Tumblr tag you????? Aaargh! Stupid program!)

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I have written far too much fic. It took me a while to work out which fic to choose, but then I remembered this one.

This is built almost entirely out of text messages so it is almost all dialogue. The back story is that Virg was seriously injured and due to reasons, he can’t see his brother John without a serious negative emotional reaction to his presence. But Virgil loves his brother and tries to reach out and talk to him anyway, even if it is only through text messages. And John loves his brother too.

This one was both painful and hilarious to write. It is one of my very early fics and part of a series that is kinda special to me. I’m particularly happy with this one because, honestly, for what it was, I think it works really well.

I’ve posted the whole thing rather than a snippet because I think it needs to be read as a whole to get the effect.

It should also be noted that at the time I was still terrified of writing John :D

-o-o-o-

Title: Dear John

Tales of Sotto Voce

Author: Gumnut

9-10 Sep 2018

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Dear John.

I don’t really know where to start other than to say that I am so sorry. This is not your fault and I know I’m hurting you. If I could stop I would.

I miss you, little brother, please don’t doubt that ever. This thing that bastard has done to me has come between us, but I still love you (yes, I said it, you can now poke fun) and we will get through it. Somehow.

I’m having a hell of a time talking at the moment, so even if I could bear to be in the same room with you, having a conversation would be difficult. Would you mind if we swapped words using the message system? A little odd to be pen pals when we are only a couple of rooms away, but I’m hoping it will help. And I miss you.

Your brother, Virgil.

John stared at the message and something inside him broke. He knew the state his brother was in. He was still confined to the infirmary, could barely walk due to dizzy spells, could barely speak, and was wracked with emotional instability, his brain struggling to right itself after the attack.

Yet, he had managed to write this?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Certainly, Virgil.

I think it is a good idea. It is likely to help us regain our relationship.

It is also great to see you able to write so well, considering your condition. I am very happy to hear from you.

And yes, I love you, too. No poking required.

I am also so sorry this has happened to you. I would offer some regrets, but I cannot see any way that we could have honestly prevented it. Looking back reveals so many opportunities, yet given the same situations with the same information at the time, we would have acted in exactly the same manner. It appears the Hood planned well for once in his life and he almost succeeded.

The only element that he didn’t plan for was you. It is you we have to thank for his failure. I have never been more thankful for your stubborn streak in my life.

I’m am so proud to have such a strong big brother.

John.

He hit send and bit his lip. He wouldn’t list personal relations in his list of best skills, but Virgil knew that. He just hoped he was good enough.

Several hours later, John was startled out of the sub-function he was writing by a chime from his tablet.

Message from OntheVirg.

John.

Thank you for your vote of confidence. To be honest all I could think of at the time was that I couldn’t let you have my ship. You yelled and screamed, but no, you couldn’t have her. Then you hurt me, tried to force me, but no

Sorry, wasn’t you.

It was to be expected. John was surprised the message had even been sent and not deleted. Perhaps Virgil had hit the wrong button. Or perhaps he was trying to explain.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Virgil.

There are no words for the extent of the anger I feel for the violation made against you. There is no need to apologise. I understand, big brother.

Please if you need to talk. I am here.

John

He swallowed and hit send.

Message from OntheVirg.

Do you remember that deer Dad found on the side of the road that had been hit by a car? How it looked up at us desperate for help, but somehow knew it wasn’t going to come?

It felt like that.

It hurt so much. I couldn’t do what he asked, so he just hurt me more. And then I think he just hurt me because he could. There wasn’t any way out.

And he looked just like you. I think that hurt the most.

He had to resist the urge to run down the hallway and hug his brother. He rubbed his eyes instead.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I really wish I could hug you right now. Tell Scott to give you a hug from me.

Do you know why he looked like me?

John

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Hug delivered.

You okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

As well as I could be considering the circumstances. How is he?

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Struggling to type. We’re going to have to call it quits soon. It is taking everything he has to hit those keys. But I think he needs this.

Thank you for being there.

How goes the programming?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Don’t let him overtax himself.

Where else would I be? He is my big brother.

Slowly. Whoever did this really knew what they were doing. It is cutting edge work. I can guarantee that the Hood outsourced it. Far too smart for him. I recommend we set Penelope and Kayo on their tail. I dread to think what else this person could be capable of doing. Brains has already started the groundwork to protect our systems. We have a long road ahead to get our equipment up to a level I will be happy to let out on the field without fear of compromise.

I’m afraid International Rescue is down for the count for the foreseeable future.

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Damn. I still had hope for a magic wand. Do your best. I know you will.

Oh, and if you need to talk, let me know. Virgil isn’t the only victim here.

Message from OntheVirg

Gonna have to stop soon. Tired.

I have thought about that and I’m not sure. Have you ever met the Hood? I don’t think you have. So I’m wondering how on Earth he knew what you looked like.

But then perhaps he didn’t have to know. Perhaps the program just needed to source the most likely person in my head it could use. You are unique, little brother. Because you spend so much time on TB5, I mostly see you as a hologram. That would be extremely convenient for a mole.

In any case, I fell for it.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

He’s asleep.

You know, watching him, I can see why the Hood didn’t win. He won’t give up. By the end of his last message his hands were shaking so badly, I had to help him tap the right keys. Wouldn’t let me do it for him, no, he had to do it himself.

We are so damn lucky to have him for a brother.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Johnny?

He was still sitting, staring down at his tablet when Scott entered the room behind him. He continued to stare as his brother’s hands took away the tablet and placed on the shelf beside him. When a hand was placed gently on his shoulder he finally looked up into those caring blue eyes.

It was enough to break him again.

For the first time in many years, his biggest brother drew him gently into a hug. John let his forehead drop to the soft material of Scott’s shirt and simply clung.

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Roses are red We wear blue I look groovy And so do you.

Message from OntheVirg.

There once was a flyboy named Scott Who used to fly around a lot He flew so fast He kissed his own ass And completely lost the plot.

Message from OntheVirg.

And then there was one named John Whose appendages were quite long In space he was ace Full of delicate grace But in gravity everything went wrong.

Message from GuyintheSky.

GORDON, GET OFF VIRGIL’S TABLET!

-o-o-o-

Message from GuyintheSky.

You there, Virgil?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Yeah.

Message from GuyintheSky.

How are you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Been better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Scott with you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

No. I sent him to bed. He looked awful. Please make sure he looks after himself. You know what he is like when one of us is injured.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ve been trying, but he is slippery. Any tips?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Don’t take no for an answer and, if necessary, manhandle.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I don’t exactly have your physique, Virgil.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Out logic him then. He does see sense occasionally.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ll try.

Virgil, I had an idea about how we could see each other. Do you remember my prom?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Really?!! You’d try that again?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Do you think it would help?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Honestly, John, I don’t know. Maybe. It is certainly a fond memory, for me, if not for you. Would you really do that for me?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. It will grow back and maybe that could help you ease back into seeing me?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

You would really go that far?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Wouldn’t you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know you better than that.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It is asking a lot. Are you sure?

Message from LittleSpaceballs

John.

Can you please give Gordon access to his tablet. He is driving me insane.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yes, Virgil. Give me a moment. Alan is throwing a hissy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, Alan.

Message from LittleSpaceballs.

Then at least change my username for me. He’s locked me out of my settings and his sense of humour leaves much to be desired.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Sure.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Thanks, John. Yours isn’t much better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Now you lack the balls.

Message from TheShortestOne.

You’re not safe on your little satellite at the moment, John. Remember that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and see Virgil. He needs the company.

Message from TheShortestOne.

How is he doing?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and ask him. I’m sure he would love to see you.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I guess.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Have you gone to see him at all?

Message from TheShortestOne.

I’ve been busy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Okay.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I hate seeing him like that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

We all hate seeing him like that. This isn’t about us, it is about him. He sacrificed so much to protect us, the least you can do is visit him while he is recovering. He’ll be missing you. You know what he is like.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I know.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Get Gordon to go with you if it will help.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan, do you have any idea how much I would like to walk in and see Virgil right now? But I can’t. Move your ass and go see him.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Everything okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah, Alan is just being Alan.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

He tends to do that. Being Alan and all.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Ha ha.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

So you are going to try it?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

I’ll owe you big time, Johnny.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, you won’t.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Do I get to keep proof?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m sure Gordon will oblige - at a factor of approximately one thousand.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It will be painful. You have my sympathies. Speak of the devil, the terrible two are here. Speak to you later?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. And you have my sympathies too. Yell if it becomes unbearable.

-o-o-o-

Message from EatYourVirgetables.

Fgxzs

Message from GuyintheSky

Virgil?

When his brother didn’t answer, John pulled up the video feed from his room. Virgil was not in his bed, the covers ruffled and discarded.

Frowning John scanned the room. For a moment he thought it was empty, but no. Right on the very edge of the camera field, a hand lay across a discarded tablet on the floor.

He hit his comm. “Scott, get to the infirmary, now!” And he was moving.

He didn’t know exactly where in the building Scott was, but John was close. He dashed down the corridor, tore around the corner...and Scott had beat him to it.

Virgil was on the floor, distressed and disoriented, struggling to get up. Scott knelt beside him, his hands on his brother’s shoulders muttering reassurances.

John slipped back into the shadows. He could not be seen. Certainly not when Virgil was in this state.

“It was a nightmare. Only a dream.”

“It h-rts. G-d, it h-rts.” There were unshed tears in his brother’s voice, a shaking hand fumbling at his temple. “Mk it g ‘way.”

“I-I can’t, Virg. I’m so sorry.”

Virgil let out a sob. “Why? Why d-s he w-nt to h-rt m?

“Because he was a self-serving bastard who would do anything to get what he wants.” The venom in Scott’s tone startled Virgil.

“J-hn?”

Oh, god.

“No! John would never-“

“H-rts.”

Scott drew his brother close, rocking him gently, desperately trying to calm him down.

John slipped back into the corridor and headed back to his room, heart in pieces.

-o-o-o-

Message from TheMightyFish.

John?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Johnny?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Jooooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyy.

Message from TheMightyFish.

I really don’t like being ignored. You haven’t answered your comms and your door is locked. C’mon, John. We’re worried about you.

Message from TheMightyFish.

John. John. John. John. John.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Please John. I really don’t want to have to deploy Scott, he looks like shit.

Message from GuyintheSky.

What do you want, Gordon?

Message from TheMightyFish.

You okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m fine.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Don’t believe you. This all sucks big time. Let me in, pleeease.

Message from TheMightyFish

C’mon, John. We need each other in this.

John sighed and walking out of his bathroom, opened the door. Sure enough, Gordon was standing outside, tablet in hand, worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question, bro. You look almost as bad as Scott.”

“Well, plenty of reason.” He sighed. “Is he okay?”

“Who?”

“Scott. Virgil. Pick a brother. Everyone is hurting.”

Gordon looked at him for a moment as if he was going to say something, but then decided against. Instead he took the opportunity to push past John and into his room. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

“Gordon-“

“What?! You’re going to dye your hair???” His little brother let out a laugh. “This will be good.” He grabbed the packet. “Blond? Do anything to be me, huh?” The humour in his brother’s eyes was definitely infectious.

“I’m hoping it will help.”

Gordon immediately sobered. He looked down at the packet. “Prom?”

“Yeah.”

“That sucked.”

“Yes, it did.”

Gordon reached up and patted his shoulder. “Hope it works better than it did last time.”

John looked down a moment. “Hey, Gordon. Do me a favour?”

“Anything, bro.”

“Can I borrow one of your shirts?”

Gordon cracked up. “Anything to be me.”

-o-o-o-

Message from EverVirgilant.

You ready?

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Are you?

Message from EverVirgilant.

Scott’s here, and Gordon. Dunno where Alan is. We have enough troops should I lose it.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

You are not going to lose it. Do me a favour and cuff Gordon about the ears for me. I don’t know how he has changed my username this time, but even I’m locked out now.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Cuff deployed. Consider yourself scowled at. I’ll speak to Brains later. See if I can get his font to appear pink with flowers and fairies.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Sounds great.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Now get your ass in here.

-o-o-o-

Scott was tired. But that seemed to be the permanent state of affairs since his brother had been injured. He was wary of this experiment, but agreed that it was worth the try. Virgil missed John, and John was going through his own version of hell in this, so if it helped just a little, it would help a lot.

Gordon dashed back into the room, a grin on his face. “Awesome. Totally awesome.”

Scott glared at him, but his grin would not be subdued.

He reached for Virgil’s hand. Simple reassurance.

Virgil’s voice was hesitant. “C-m in, J-hn.”

The middle brother edged around the doorway, and Scott felt Virgil tense.

Oh my god.

His tall lanky brother had cut his hair short and dyed blond. He had obviously shoved a pile of product into it and it stood up in messy spikes. On top of that he was sporting a pair of John Lennon sunglasses, conveniently hiding his eyes.

One of Gordon’s just a little too small, blindingly colourful shirts hung from his shoulders, leaving just a hint of bare skin at his waistline. Low hung burgundy linen pants and leather sandals finished off the ensemble.

So far from their John that a new man stood in the room.

“J-hn?” Virgil’s voice cracked.

John attempted a grin.

Virgil succeeded. “Yu l-k gr-t.” Scott started as Virgil suddenly pushed aside his covers and clambered out of bed. He steadied him as he wavered predictably, but let him go as he hesitantly approached his little brother.

His shoulders were tense, but he reached out and laid a hand on John’s chest. “H-w r yu?”

Quiet and still tentative. “Getting better by the minute.”

Virgil looked up at him, a mess of emotion on his face.

“How are you, Virgil?”

Whispered. “G-ttig b-tter b the m-nut.” He swallowed, then leaping in, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his little brother. “M-ssed yu.”

John gently returned the embrace. “Missed you, too.”

Scott swallowed as something caught in his throat.

They stood there for a moment before Virgil broke it off, stumbling a little and backing off. Gordon caught him and led him back to the bed.

John stayed where he was standing as his big brother sat back down on the bed. Scott grabbed a hand. “You okay?”

Virgil smiled up at him. “Ye, I th-k I am.”

The biggest brother in the room broke into a grin and tightened his grip. He looked up at John and finally saw a hesitant smile on the man’s face.

They had made a beginning.

-o-o-o-

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

GORDON!

Message from TheVirgilQueen

What has he done now?

Message from HeWhoLooksUpSkirtsBecauseHeisTooShorttoLookDownShirts

What the hell?!

Message from BlondHippyandLippy

He’s in the pool.

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

I’m going to drain the damn thing!

Message from SleekSilverandFoxy.

I’ll take care of it.

#Username reset

ScottTracy

VirgilTracy

JohnTracy

AlanTracy

GroovyGrandma

GordonisGrovelling.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

The rest of the series can be found here.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Sotto Voce

27 notes · View notes

shieldedbythunder · 3 years

Note

9 &/or 16 please <3 Either way, your drabbles are always enjoyable.

Thanks so much, Stormy! For the prompts, and for being so patient <3 I really enjoyed writing these! Both of these can also be found on my ao3 account :)

9. You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one.”

i’ll get by with a little help from my friends

“Alright,” Natasha says briskly, “you need anything, just give JARVIS a call, okay?” An authoritative tap to his shoulder tells Steve to raise himself up long enough for her to fluff the pillows up a little.

“Is all this really necessary?” Steve grumbles, letting himself fall back once she’s done. Scowling at the thick, white cast that entombs his left leg, propped up on an extra two pillows, like it’s done him a personal wrong. Which, in some ways, it certainly has. “I’m probably gonna be fine by tomorrow.”

One lucky hit. One lousy, lucky hit, he thinks to himself irritably, and he’s out of commission. He’s going to kick the crap out of Batroc the next time they cross paths. Or maybe return the favour; see how he likes an iron girder pinning down his leg.

“Well, you heard the doc’s orders.” The innocent, sympathetic look Natasha sends his way would almost be believable, if it weren’t for the telltale gleam in her eye; she’s loving every moment of his sulking. “Let the serum do its thing with the broken bone, and help it along as much as we can. Which means plenty of bedrest, no negotiations.”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess,” he mutters darkly. With a sigh, he lets himself sink back into the bed properly, willing the knot between his shoulders to ease out a little. “Listen, thanks for the help, you didn’t have to.” General irritation aside, he’s genuinely grateful. Natasha looks just about as exhausted as he feels, and yet she’d never left his side, from their evacuation in the field to the medbay and back up to his room; just as stubborn and loyal a trooper as himself.

“No problem. You sure you don’t want anything else?” Her job done, Natasha hovers by the door, hands on her hips as she gives him one last once-over. “The others should be back soon, so I’ve gotta head to the debrief, but some of us can stop by afterwards if you want.” Even with the lingering traces of mirth, her eyes are as shrewd as ever, head cocked as she watches him carefully.

“Naw… it’s okay,” he says, managing a smile. “It’s been a rough day, you guys look after yourselves. The last thing you need is baby-sitting duties. Really, I’ll be fine.”

And he will be fine, he tells himself as Natasha leaves with one last inscrutable look, her footsteps quickly fading away. It’s not the end of the world, just a day or two of bedrest at most. Nothing to make a fuss about.

It’s just… it all feels horribly familiar. The long hours cooped up in bed, days at a time during his worst spells. At the very least, all he has to worry about is boredom, rather than how every rattling breath tightens up his lungs that little bit more. The helplessness, an old, distant, but never forgotten chill gnawing at his stomach. It seems even his new body and all its wonders could only stave it off for so long.

On that thought, he exhales sharply through his nose as he shuts his eyes; wallowing in self-pity won’t make his leg heal any faster. He just needs to rest up and let his body take care of itself, like any sensible soldier. Sleep takes a while to come, but when it does, it’s mercifully deep and dreamless.

***

He doesn’t know how long he passes in fitful slumber. But the first thing that registers as consciousness slowly creeps back in is how dry his throat is. The second is the feeling of something warm and heavy resting against his collarbone. And the third is a deep, familiar voice close by, words pitched soft and soothingly low. His parched throat aside, it’s an oddly comfortable situation to wake up to.

His eyes cracking open, Steve shifts around enough to get a look at his bunkmate. “Thor?” he croaks out, unable to manage any better between the thirst and lingering grogginess. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Thor says lightly. Perfectly nonchalant as he sets down his book, reaching over to the bedside table to pass him a glass of water. Like this is just another Tuesday evening for them. “I should have thought that was obvious - you took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one. Speaking of which, would you mind holding still? I’ve just gotten comfortable.”

“No, I mean… what are you doing here?” Gratefully accepting the offered glass, Steve takes stock of his surroundings between gulps. He’s been out a while from the looks of it; it’s late afternoon by now, the sun low in the sky and bathing the room in bright golds and ambers. Casual in an old hoodie and jeans, Thor’s got his legs stretched across the empty side of the bed, as perfectly at ease as ever.

“Keeping you company.” Twisting himself around, Thor props himself up on one arm to give him a knowing look. “I know inactivity isn’t one of your stronger suits, so I thought you might like some distraction. And I talked to Tony, he’s arranging a movie night for you, so you can expect a full house tonight.”

“Thor…” Steve runs a hand through his hair, equal parts touched and exasperated. “I appreciate the thought, but you really don’t have to-”

“I know, I know I don’t have to. But… I still want to.” His smile losing its sardonic edge, Thor leans in a little closer. “Your first thought is always for others, for what they need before you. And…” He hesitates before laying one hand over Steve’s, squeezing it ever so gently. “I was worried for you, after your injury. Will you just… let me make sure you’re taken care of?”

… well. The prospect does sound inviting, delivered with such achingly heartfelt words. And with those soft, earnest blue eyes trained on him so beseechingly, Steve would defy anyone to resist. “... are you sure?” he asks, hedging even as his resolve crumbles. “I mean, Buck’ll tell ya, I get pretty crabby when I’m stuck in bed.”

In lieu of answering, Thor retrieves his book after a moment’s thought, smiling to himself as he finds his place again. “How features are abroad, I am skill-less,” he reads softly, the words almost musical in his smooth baritone. ”But, by my modesty, the jewel of my dower, I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can imagination form a shape besides yourself to like of.” His eyes are fond when he lowers the book again to look at Steve, with just a hint of amusement. “Does that answer your question?”

Ducking his head, Steve makes no effort to hold back his smile, even as his cheeks heat up. “You’re a real sap sometimes, you know that?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m your sap, isn’t it?” Thor chuckles, leaning in close to press a kiss to his forehead. Honestly, with this kind of bedside manner, he could grow to like mandatory bedrest.

“Will you keep reading?” Steve asks, letting his eyes fall shut again as Thor settles back into place against him. “Just ‘til the others get here?”

“Anything you want, love. Now, then,” Thor murmurs, licking one fingertip to turn the page, “where were we… ah, yes, let’s see what Ferdinand has to say to that…”

~~~~~

16. “Can you please just hold me?” (This one’s more inspired by the prompt, rather than including it word for word)

just a little change, small to say the least

If there’s one thing Thor’s come to appreciate in his time on Earth, it’s the concept of central heating.

It’s nearly a week now since Manhattan woke to find itself blanketed in the first snow of winter, with little respite since. Just beyond the tower windows, a whirling cloud of white engulfs the city, the reds and golds of Christmas lights twinkling intermittently through the haze. And of course, with the snow and the driving wind comes the resulting drop in temperatures. Not quite on par with Johtunheim, but still enough to steal right down to the bone, even through the thick layers they pile on whenever one of them feels brave enough to venture out on foot.

And yet, thanks to JARVIS and various other innovations of Midgard’s technology, the temperature within the tower walls remains at a pleasantly mild warmth. Enough so that he can comfortably stand stark naked in one of Tony’s bathrooms, all cool chrome and marble tiling, without so much as a shiver.

Not that he isn’t capable of generating his own heat under the right circumstances, Thor thinks to himself with just a touch of self-satisfaction. All the same, the wet washcloth he presses to his brow is a welcome balm, drawing out a sigh of relief at the bracing damp. Moving quickly, he gives his torso a thorough wipe down before running the cloth under the cold tap again, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. To savour the warm, syrupy drowsiness, all the pleasant little aches he’s accumulated over the evening.

Strolling back out into the bedroom, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the sight of the figure still sprawled across the bed. “Comfortable, are we?” he asks, leaning against the door as he takes a moment to admire his handiwork.

Tangled in the rumpled sheets with one arm thrown over his eyes, his spent cock still half hard as it lolls in the groove of his hip, Steve looks every inch the cat who just got the cream. “Just give me a minute,” he murmurs, dreamy and languid as he stretches out with a groan of satisfaction. A far cry from the hoarse, desperate pleas for more he’d filled the room with just a few minutes ago, almost loud enough to drown out the slap of skin on skin. “Almost got the feeling back in my legs.”

Thor chuckles, allowing himself just a little smugness as he settles back down on the bed, washcloth in hand. “Here, let me,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow. With slow, sweeping movements, he wipes down the mess of their coupling, starting from Steve’s chest before gently working his way downwards to his ass. Watching the muscles shift and relax in response to the sudden cold, a trail of goosebumps erupting across the miles of pale flesh in his wake.

The sight would be enough to tempt a saint. Gods know it’s been enough for Thor, time and again.

Humming softly with satisfaction, Steve finally shifts his arm enough to look at Thor properly. Traces of his earlier flushed state linger, eyes half-lidded and hazy against the rosiness in his cheeks. His lips still slick and swollen red from the few frantic minutes he’d spent sucking Thor off, his fingers an iron grip digging into Thor’s hips as he’d fucked into that mouth, sinfully hot and wet, and gasped for Steve to touch himself. Thoroughly wrecked and utterly gorgeous, and a curl of heat reignites in Thor’s belly at the knowledge that it’s his doing. That only he gets to see their captain like this, touch him like this.

“Thanks.” Steve’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and there’s something inscrutable behind his satiated smile when their eyes meet again. “You don’t have to do all that, you know.”

“Well, I do owe you one for that rescue in Florence last week,” Thor quips, smiling at the chuckle the remark pulls from Steve. “But, really… it’s no trouble”. Not for you. He leaves the words unspoken, resting on the tip of his tongue even as his heart beats a little faster at the thought. But the quiet remains easy and companionable as he finishes his work, Steve’s eyes bright with mirth when he lets himself fall back on the mattress with a long sigh. Savouring the warmth radiating from the body next to him.

It’s one of his favourite parts of their trysts, these little silences as they allow themselves to just be in each other’s company. No world-threatening dangers, no responsibilities beyond the door. Just the two of them, sated and content. A respite he’s always sorry to see come to an end.

As if in response to his thoughts, a jaw-cracking yawn swells up from deep in his chest; a reminder of the late hour, and all their exertions on top of it. “Well,” he sighs, heaving himself up off the bed, “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He hunkers down, even as his weary limbs protest at the effort, sorting through the scattered trail of clothing for what’s his.

“... does it have to be?”

Shaking his head, Thor grins to himself as he locates his underwear under the bed. “Don’t tempt me,” he chuckles, straightening up and casting an amused look back at the bed.

But Steve doesn’t return the smile, his expression thoughtful as he regards Thor. As if carefully measuring his next words. “I mean… it’s already late enough. You could stay, if you want.” He gestures towards the empty space next to him, watching Thor with careful, questioning eyes.

… oh.

It’s not an unpleasant thought. That much, Thor can parse out from the tangle of emotions the request sets off. But since they began this… whatever this is they share, there’s never been any expectation. Just an hour or two of pleasure and stress release between two friends, nothing more. And there’s something to be said for not upsetting the balance on a good arrangement.

It would be simple, to take the easy out Steve’s offered and be on his way. To let things go on as they have for the past few months. Just friends and teammates who occasionally fall into bed together whenever one or both of them need a good, hard fuck. Who always enjoy one another’s company, whether in sex or laughter or comfortable silences. Who set each other’s hearts racing with the merest glance or smile. Just friends.

So, all things considered… there’s really only one answer he can give.

“That… sounds nice. Thanks.” Even with his mouth dry, the words come as naturally as breathing. And though he tries to school his features, the sight of Steve ducking his head as he turns pink right to his ears sets an immense warmth surging in Thor’s chest.

Not that it quite assuages the hesitance he feels as he climbs back into the bed, eyes on Steve for any sign to withdraw or slow down. This isn’t new territory for him, or for Steve, possibly. But it is for them.

If nothing else, he clearly isn’t alone in his apprehension; Steve clears his throat awkwardly, eyes raised to the ceiling as they fix the covers. “Uh, JARVIS, could you get the lights please?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers. Sleep well,” JARVIS answers, smooth and discreet as the lights dim, until only a faint glow from the streets and snowfall outside remain. Leaving the two of them lying on opposite sides of the bed in near total darkness, a prickly, unsure silence stretching between them. The glint of Steve’s eyes is barely visible in the shadows as they watch each other. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

The spell is broken when Steve exhales sharply through his nose with exasperation before scooting in closer, and Thor has to bite back a laugh; leave it to Steve to step up first and take a dilemma by the horns. Throwing one arm across Thor’s chest, Steve settles himself along his right side, the crown of his head tucked neatly under Thor’s chin as he lays it down on his shoulder. Spurred on by the show of sheer stubborn confidence, Thor lets his arm curl around Steve’s back, his hand resting at the base of his spine. Noting how nicely they fit together, a thought that sends an odd little flutter through his stomach. Not an unpleasant one, though - quite the opposite.

“You okay?” There’s a familiar ring of the steadfast captain to Steve’s question, always checking in on his men. But it doesn’t quite mask the uncertainty of a man with his heart laid bare.

“Yeah, just…” He huffs out through his nose, smiling up at the shadows the snowfall sends dancing across the ceiling. “Trying to figure out why we haven’t been doing this part all along.” He strokes his hand up the length of Steve’s back, his palm spread broad and flat to his spine, and savours the shiver of pleasure that runs through Steve’s body. All of a sudden, he doubts he’s going to be using his own bed very much after tonight. Not alone, anyway.

“Well,” Steve finally answers, and Thor can hear the smile of relief in his voice, warm and content as the arm across his chest curls around him a touch more securely. Pulling them that little bit closer together. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time, won’t we?”

#conor answers #stormyandrescuer #my fics

5 notes · View notes

kieraswriting · 4 years

Text

Coffin Chapter Nineteen

Masterpost

Virgil slowly drifted awake. He felt sore, and his mind was fuzzy. He was starving. But that didn’t make sense. He’d eaten recently—- though he couldn’t remember when.

He tried to sit up, and his body exploded with pain. The cry left his mouth before he even knew it was there. His breathing sped up as he tried to remain frozen in place, terrified of awakening the pain any further.

“Shh, Shh, Virgil, I’m here,” said a soft voice, and his hair was stroked back from his forehead.

Virgil choked back a whimper and leaned his head towards the hand. He slowly opened his eyes.

Patton was sitting above him, looking nearly as terrible as Virgil felt. His eyes were bloodshot, with bags forming beneath them, he was paler than normal, making his freckles stand out, and he had dried blood on his face and in his hair. But he was still smiling softly down at Virgil.

“There you go, just lay still, ok? You’ll get better, I promise. Do you need anything?”

Virgil wasn’t sure he dared move enough to speak, but eventually he did. “ ‘m hungry.”

A fire lit up over his cheek, just from that small movement.

“It’s ok, Virgil, you can eat as much as you want,” Patton said, baring his wrist.

And then Virgil remembered. He’d eaten from Patton last, more than once in the last few days. Patton was already pale, there was no way Virgil could take more.

Patton held his wrist just above Virgil’s mouth.

“No,” Virgil said weakly.

“It’s ok,” Patton said gently, running his hand through Virgil’s hair again. “It’ll help you get better.”

“Roman,” Virgil said, trying to move his mouth as little as possible.

“Roman?” Patton looked surprised, and hurt. Virgil hated that. He hated that he’d put that look there on Patton’s face. But he’d hate even more if he hurt Patton by taking too much from him.

“Roman.”

“Ok. Ok, Virgil, I’ll get him. Will that help you feel better?”

Virgil gave the tiniest nod.

Patton left, and Virgil mourned the loss of the hand in his hair. Without that to balance it, the pain seemed so much worse.

Then the door opened, and Roman knelt beside his bed. “Hey, Virgil, you called?” His voice was carefully quiet, which Virgil very much appreciated.

Virgil gave a tiny nod.

“And Patton said you’re hungry?”

Virgil gave another slight nod.

Roman held his wrist against Virgil’s mouth, and Virgil bit down, trying his best to be careful. He had fuzzy memories of hurting Patton, and he didn’t want that to happen again.

Warmth flowed down his throat and filled his stomach. Virgil tensed, knowing that healing the burns would hurt. But why?! It was healing! Why did it have to hurt?

“Shh, just relax, Stormcloud,” Roman said. His voice was deep and resonant, and very convincing. And then he stroked his hand through Virgil’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

Virgil melted against the bed, riding through the waves of heat and pain, anchored by the soft touch and quiet murmurs.

He didn’t expect, not with how much blood was being used to heal him, that he would feel properly full, but he did, and he released Roman’s wrist, pleased to see the punctures healing over as Roman pulled away.

“Thank you,” Virgil said. His voice was hoarse and croaky, but he could use it now without pain.

“Anytime, Virgil.” Roman smiled at him, his energy tempered by a softness Virgil had never expected to be directed at him.

“Patton stayed here all night, didn’t he?”

Roman nodded, with an affirmative hum.

“He-he can’t do that. He has to sleep too. He had blood on him, Roman! What happened to—“ Virgil was cut off with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I told him to take a shower and then go to bed. He’ll be fine. He was worried about you, and a bit self-destructive.”

Virgil shook his head as much as he dared. “He can’t, I’m not—“

“Don’t you dare say you aren’t worth it.” Roman said firmly. “I know you enough to know what was going through your head. You did this for us. There’s no way in hell we aren’t going to repay that!”

Virgil broke eye contact with Roman, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just a vampire…”

“Are you kidding?!” Roman shifted position to come back into Virgil’s field of vision. “You’re most of the reason I learned not to look down on vampires like that, and you’re telling me that you look down on vampires?!”

Virgil turned his head away. “Vampires may be people, but we still all have to steal life away from others. We still hurt people, whether on accident or not. I’ve been around vampires my whole life, Roman. They aren’t good.”

“You can’t say that. Would you tell Dee that? Or Remy?”

“They know it already.”

“No— Virgil, where is all of this coming from? I thought you were just as much for freeing the vampires as we all were!”

Virgil turned back to face Roman. “Of course I am! No one should ever have to go through that!”

“Then what is all of this?”

“I’ve just, I was practically dead once anyway, and since then I’ve— I-I’ve hurt so many people, Roman. If it had to be you or me—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Roman was looking downright angry, and Virgil shrunk back against the bed. “Listen, we’ve both done stupid things. We’ve both hurt people. I’m a vampire hunter, I’ve killed. That’s more than you can say.”

“I—“

Distracted by talking, Virgil had forgotten about not moving, and tried to sit up. His whole body stiffened and he clamped his eyes and mouth shut as pain raced across his skin. His breathing quickened and small sounds, that seemed way more embarrassing with Roman in the room, slipped out between his gritted teeth.

“Hey, hey, loosen up a bit,” Roman said, his voice back to calm and soothing. “If you stiffen up it’ll hurt worse.”

He ran his hand through Virgil’s hair again. “I’m sorry. I made you upset. We can bench that topic until you’re better and Patton can get in on the conversation.”

Virgil gave a slight nod without opening his eyes, still trying to ride out the pain. Roman started humming softly in time with his hand in Virgil’s hair, which helped considerably.

As the pain faded, it was replaced with exhaustion. Virgil slowly slipped away to the soft sound of Roman’s humming.

•^*^••

“You sure you wanna come with?” Remus taunted. “Your Thomas won’t approve.”

Dee bared his teeth. “I’m not letting you go off and do it unsupervised.”

Remus shrugged, but his grin grew a little brighter, a little wilder. “It’s not like I have some good motive for doing this, you know. I’m not saving anybody.”

“Does it really change anything?”

Remus let out a cackling laugh, bouncing up and bounding away. Dee followed, at a much smoother, but equally fast pace.

Remus stopped outside of a prison. It was the middle of the night, so there wasn’t hardly any visible activity, but with his enhanced hearing, Dee could hear the telltale quiet crying. It had been converted, at least partially, into a holding place for vampires.

“I didn’t even know there were this many vampires before this insanity happened,” Dee murmured.

“You didn’t? How long have you lived in a bubble?”

Dee glared, but Remus was already walking up to the gates. He knocked on the door.

“Hey, Dee, you do know how to make thralls, right?”

“What? No.”

Remus’ eyes widened for half a second. But then the door was opening, and he was turning to it with a feral grin. He leapt on the guard, sinking his fangs into their throat, not bothering with any kind of care. He pulled back, and the guard slumped to the ground.

For a second, Dee thought he’d killed them, but then they starting groveling.

Remus crouched in front of them. “A huge group of vampires came, attacking and killing, there were too many, you couldn’t stop them. You only barely escaped with your life.”

The guard started quaking, their eyes wide with fear.

“Run.”

The guard bolted.

Remus turned to Dee with a crazed smile. “Now for the rest of them!”

•^*^••

“Where have you been?!” Thomas yelled. “I’ve been looking for you for hours! I thought you’d been hurt! Or captured! You can’t just do that!”

Remus elbowed Dee. Dee shot him a dirty look. “It was his idea. I just went along to babysit.”

“And you didn’t tell me?! Dee, it would have taken you barely a minute!”

Dee wilted slightly. He’d known Thomas would be upset, but not this much. “I’m sorry.”

But Thomas wasn’t ready to be so easily calmed. “And Remus is covered in blood! What did you even do?!”

“It was a prison break!” Remus said gleefully. Lucky bastard was still riding a high from the adrenaline and excess of blood.

Thomas turned to Dee, his face demanding answers.

“Yeah, it was a prison break. We should probably move out pretty quickly. They won’t be looking for us, but if they find us anyway it could be bad.”

Thomas’s face clouded over, his jaw tightening. When he spoke his voice was strained with the effort to speak calmly. “Then we’ll leave, but while we’re driving you’re going to explain this.”

Dee nodded, letting his head hang. He was not letting Remus drag him anywhere ever again.

•^*^••

Emile sat on the couch, looking out over water, holding a cup of steaming tea in his hands.

Logan settled beside him, also with a hot drink.

“This feels wrong.”

“Oh?”

“It’s too calm. The others are on the run, Virgil is heavily injured, and I’m sitting with a cup of tea watching the sun rise.”

“Your part is just as necessary, Logan.”

“For what?! What purpose am I serving?”

Emile lifted his cup to his lips. “You made the plan, Logan. Tell me, what is your purpose here?”

Logan turned to look at him, anger sparking in his eyes. “I’m here because my presence would hinder the other teams.”

“You are not a hindrance. What is the purpose of this team?”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “To monitor the progress of the hunters and to be an early warning system or backup for either of the other teams.”

Emile nodded. “I believe that monitoring the hunters is something to which you are especially suited. You have a good base of knowledge on the hunters, and the skills to infiltrate their systems to gain more. If we are to be the early warning system, I believe that it is you who will first recognize what they need to be warned about.”

Logan turned his head away, taking an angry swing of his drink. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m not suggesting that you need to like the situation. It’s awful. Our lives are at stake, and we have been maneuvered to a position where we are made almost entirely impotent.”

From behind them, Emile heard Remy snort.

“That’s not very helpful,” Emile admonished, sending Remy an exaggerated frown.

But to his surprise, there was a slight huff of amusement from Logan. “Thank you, Emile. If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

��^*^••

When Patton woke from his nap he was feeling much better. His scalp was still a bit sore if anything touched his head, but that would probably go away soon. He looked around for a clock, and was surprised to see that he’d been sleeping for nine hours.

“Oh, I hope Roman’s alright,” Patton said quietly, getting up and heading straight for Virgil’s room.

Virgil was awake, but Roman wasn’t, slumped over the edge of the bed, one hand tucked awkwardly underneath him and the other laying on Virgil’s head.

Virgil sent him a smile, which Patton immediately returned, with interest. “Are you feeling better?” He whispered.

Virgil nodded. “Much better.”

“Good!” Patton said. “You’re looking a lot better.”

The welts on his exposed skin weren’t raised anymore, though they were still pretty red.

“I’ll take Roman to bed, and then come back.” Patton said, shaking Roman’s shoulder.

“Wha— Huh?”

“Come on, Ro. Let’s get you to your bed.”

Roman let loose a slurred speech, something about belief and worth.

“Oh, yes, come on, let’s get to bed,” Patton said, slipping under his arm and propping him up.

Roman stumbled along, flopping down in his bed when they reached it. He was still sleep-talking, which Patton could barely understand any of, but agreed with regardless. He pushed Roman the rest of the way into the bed and draped a blanket over him. Roman let out one final burst of words, more slurred than ever, before dropping into a deeper sleep. Patton smiled down fondly at him.

Patton went back to Virgil’s room. “How’re you feeling, Kiddo?”

“Better. Still sore, but I think I could move now.”

“Oh, that’s good! I think I’d rather if you waited until you’re sure you can move, though. I really don’t want you to have to hurt any more.”

Virgil nodded.

“Is there anything I do that would help you feel any better?”

Virgil suddenly looked down, biting his lip. He looked… embarrassed?

“What is it?”

Virgil looked up at Patton, and flushed. That was good! If he had enough blood to blush he would probably be able to be fully healed in a day or two.

“Could you… maybe… play with my hair?” His voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke, embarrassment ringing clearly.

“Of course I will!” Patton said, sitting on the bed near his head and stroking his hand through his hair.

All the tension left his body. His eyes slipped shut and he leaned his head into Patton’s hand. Oh, it was so cute! Patton held his tongue for Virgil’s sake, but inwardly promised himself to pet his hair as often as possible in the future.

A few minutes later, Virgil was asleep. Patton’s eyes filled with tears. He was so precious and soft. How could anyone imagine hurting him? And then the fact that it was his own dad that did it stabbed his heart again. Patton still felt like it was his fault. He could’ve—should’ve done so many things.

But. If he looked on the bright side. At least Virgil was safe now. And Patton would never, never let him anywhere near his dad ever again. He didn’t care how many times his dad apologized, he’d never let Virgil near him. He was going to keep him safe.

#sanders sides #vampire au #vampires #blood #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #remy sleep #my own work #coffin #violence #speciesism #vampire virgil #platonic moxiety

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lovestrucked-again · 5 years

Text

Profiles and How They Treat You - Mafia NCT

Masterlist / Part 2 : I’m planning to do only NCT2018 group as I’m not too familiar with WayV yet unfortunately. Please leave any feedback :) Not too sure how this concept will be liked yet.

Taeil (Underboss) He manages any suspicious activities that may draw attention to the boys and the missions they’ve been completing. Considering most of their plans involve some sort of attention attracting tasks, Taeil is the one who covers all their traces (mainly because he’s the only one who can be trusted to do a good job at it). He manages to maintain good relationships with public officials such as lawyers, police officers, anyone who may be an advantage in the long run.

- Solemn, Quiet, low-key affection type - In charge of making things comes out as accident and looking like everyday problems

Johnny (International and Domestic Affairs) He’s normally one of the easiest to find within the household with his constant conversations going on. His voice can be heard almost 24/7 and usually it’s to some politician or important person. He normally sits on a comfy chair outside on the balcony from his room, trying to maintain a tranquil peace of mind while conversing with ignorant people. His involvement with international partners allows members such as Lucas and Doyoung to retrieve things they need from abroad. Additionally, keeping an association with such companies and people provides more power to NCT as a whole. - The biggest switch from stern to soft; he’ll seem extremely serious talking about work but then have the biggest reversal into throwing aegyo at everyone - Constantly making fun of Y/N (in a loving way)

Taeyong (Leader) Most of the time he’s at the office or in the headquarters (basement) sorting through missions and prioritising what needs to be done. Outside of the house Taeyong is cold-blooded, brutal, stone-faced, threatening and every other scary word you can think of. If there are deals or arrangements that need to be done with international partners, Taeyong will consult with Johnny and Ten, gathering their opinions on the matter. Majority of the time, the customers are usual business partners but the probability of betrayal when making deals is high. He doesn’t participate in field missions unless the scale of the task is considered significant. He’ll keep an eye over the boys from headquarters with the tech boys.

Due to NCT being such a notorious gang, his completely against the idea of you leaving the house alone, afraid that there’s someone who will take advantage of you or use you against him.

- Very protective of the ones he loves - Soft with the dreamies and Y/N - Code of warning, never approach this man when he’s angry. - During his relaxing mind he prefers to be in the kitchen alone or with others. He likes to experiment with cooking and a lot of the kids enjoy whatever he cooks. - Always checking the younger boys’ rooms before he goes to bed to make sure their asleep.

Yuta (Interrogation) His specialty is differing between lies and truth. He as the talent to notice little details about expressions and movements. Unlike many of the guys, Yuta is able to hide his impatience if he feels it’s necessary. He portrays himself as multiple different roles such as a sympathetic man, or play the good cop, bad cop, depending on who the person is. If nothing nice works (majority of the time), he’ll resort to using methods of discomfort including drugs and in worse case scenarios, torture.

Yuta is always your go to for advice. The way he talks about life and the things his witnessed makes his words so much more convincing and elegant. Maybe it’s because of what he does but he doesn't hesitate with advice. He’ll tell you straight what he believes and won’t go around in circles to avoid anything. He really treasures spending time one on one with everyone and so your relationship with him is one of the strongest. He’ll take you out all the time for dinner and you’ll ask him for help while you eat. - Really good at keeping straight faces - When his not inside the interrogation room, his pretty much always chatty and smiling

Kun (Medic) Due to the overloading amount of injuries and health issues the boy’s face, Kun was forced to find an assistant to help him when missions were hectic. So when Kun’s not busy looking after anyone, his either studying about health and healing processes, looking for vulnerable spots for attacking or teaching Renjun things like basic first aid as well as surgery assisting.

When it comes to the younger individuals, Kun tends to baby them out of habit. He worries a lot for the safety of the boys whenever they go on missions and his usually watching on the screens or preparing the medical equipment in advance of their return. You normally stay by his side when everyone’s gone as he portrays himself as to be the least affected. His been with Taeyong for a long time now so he is accustomed to the situation, but his fear of the boys returning with injuries beyond his capability haunts him constantly. - “Y/N can you come help me with stocktake for emergency kits.” He’ll usually call you over before the missions to help him and keep your mind busy.

Doyoung (Intel specialist) Doyoung’s job is the foundation of the missions. His job includes tracing gangs, people or items to their exact coordinates. He can gather blueprints of all buildings possible, even for abroad. During missions he’ll be set up with Jisung connected to the earpieces with all the members on the field. Doyoung will usually guide the members while Jisung hacks into control of security systems and gains access to cameras. - Constantly nagging at you and complaining how you’re not going to survive all alone in this world. - Tell’s you off for not eating your meals at the right times, not studying, not exercising or not participating in training. - Constantly sending you nutritional plans from those healthy articles for girls - He feels he has the biggest understanding in realising that girls and guys can’t be treated the same in terms of food and emotions etc.

Ten (International and Domestic Affairs) Ten and Johnny work closely together handling all the international or domestic affairs and trades. While Johnny takes most of the calls at home, Ten prefers to meet them in person and because of that, he’s barely home. He’ll go sign contracts with people and assure them of the alliance benefits that they would gain while also confirming any suspicious doubts.

Ten is one of the more affectionate older boys and after not seeing you for a long time, he’ll always try and jump scare you when his home. He loves to grab your phone when your using it and runs off to hide it making you groan in frustration. Originally he used to do it to the younger boys but they started retaliating with their own pranks and so you became the new target.

Jaehyun (Leader 2) Even though Taeyong is the leader of the group, Jaehyun’s position is almost of similar ranking. His importance is just as crucial to the group. Depending on the type of mission or severity of threat, Jaehyun will lead the boys (usually being the middle tier of difficulty). If the mission is assumed to be higher in risk, Taeyong will be on field as well. Most of the boys will report back to Jaehyun just because Taeyong always seems to have too much on his plate.

While Doyoung nags you about daily life habits, Jaehyun is more concerned about your safety and protection. He is constantly trying to get you to learn basic defence skills with weapons after your lessons with Winwin. But you refuse to touch any gun or dangerous item.

- Because you’re so desperate to help, he’ll usually leave you small tasks like researching (anything that doesnt involve violence) - He’ll joke around occasionally and leave a note on your door telling you to water the garden (even though you dont actually have one).

Winwin (Fighter - Hand to Hand combat major) He learnt how to fight from a young age earning black belts in taekwondo, judo, karate, any sort of martial arts possible. As well as that, he’s ability to predict the moves of his opponent make him extremely fast with recognising weaknesses and strengths. He teaches all the members and makes them spar occasionally just to make sure everyone’s skills are up to his liking. If someone seems to be lacking in an area, Winwin will force them for daily practices for at least 2 weeks before he decides whether they can stop or not. He’s pretty hard core when it comes to practice and takes the situation very realistically (that’s why we have a medic on hand).

After a month of staying with the boys and warming up to them, Taeyong suggested you did some training with Winwin as a precaution for self-defence. On the first day winwin said he’d take it easy and training was going to be light. However, you went back to your room that day after a 30minute visit with Kun and a ban from going back to training for a week. ⁃ “Keep your hands in front of your face Y/N” he’d say after knocking you on the side. He’d help you up but continue the training with no leniency.

Jungwoo (Social, Undercover specialist) He works closely with Lucas managing the social compartments and maintaining clients. He’ll keep an eye on potential nuisances from other gangs who visit the clubs. As well as that he uses these social environments to gather data on other gangs as well as keeping an eye on them. However, his main job includes working as an assassin. Those business partners who end up betraying Taeyong or the team? Jungwoo hunts them down. He’ll leave the house for a couple of days unexpectedly and you’ll always get a text from him before he disappears, “I’m staying at a friend’s place for a couple of days, stay safe xx.” Initially you had no idea what the actual meaning behind it was but after a couple of times you realised. After all, this wasn't just a normal family.

Lucas (Weapons and Social) Lucas is normally better with women when it comes to making deals or finding out information flaunting his looks. However, with guys, he takes a much more different approach, somewhat similar to Taeyong. You’d never be able to guess his age, he’d give of vibes of a leader himself. He’ll go out to the clubs or bars most of the nights, occasionally taking a night off at home. During the daytime his mostly sleeping, training or looking into new weaponry. He is always aware of what equipment they need or what types of bullets are necessary for the mission. As well as that, he’s most skilled with all types of weapons from guns to bows to grenades. - Tries to headlock you as a forceful method of making you “practice” hand to hand combat. - Will text you on a daily basis for no reason at all and pretty much treat you as a personal diary. - Sends memes to you and the dreamies whenever he finds something funny but most of the time, it’s not actually funny…

Mark (All-rounder) Mark is an all-rounder with skills. If he wasn't so young, Taeyong may have given him a higher position. However, Taeyong doesn't really treat Mark like his age and gives him a lot more work than the others in terms of planning and research. Mark is usually up at night very late and sleeps very little but despite that, he doesn't complain. He gets involved a lot in discussions and debates with the older guys, contributing his thoughts. He takes lead on the field if it’s not a highly risky mission.

He knows how hard it was for you to adapt to the house and the situation and because of that, he’s constantly checking in on you. Knocking on your door before bed to see if you’re okay. Mark will tell you the most when it comes to missions that they have. Most of the others will hide a lot of the truth so you don't worry but Mark finds that just causes you more concern. He keeps a few sections left out but majority of the information he’ll tell you. - Your relationship with Mark is one of the closest as his only older than you by a little and his room is just next to yours. - At the beginning when you first came, he’d keep his door left ajar just so you could see that you weren’t alone in the house. - Occasionally when you wake up at like 3am for water, you’d see the light underneath his door was still on. So you’d bring back some tea for him on your way back, telling him to sleep already.

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Home- Chapter 1. (Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x F!Oc)

A/N: A new adventure, i hope you all like it.

Words: 2,014

Warnings: None

Prologue.

Chapter 1. Nightmares.

I had never seen so much... green.

As soon as Luke and I got off the ship that brought us, I couldn't help sitting on the grass. I am touching grass, no more sand. I feel the leaves of small plants. I look up and find many trees, some were huge, and in the distance there is a river, I can hear different sounds of animals.

“Very different from Tatooine, right?” I nod without taking my eyes off the landscape. To some extent I feel overwhelmed, I feel that, at any moment, everything will disappear or that I will have to leave.

“Don't be pessimistic” Jedi tricks! “Come, I'll show you the temple.”

I release a sigh and get up, I take Luke's hand and he guides me towards the huge construction. He shows me the different rooms where children train: practice with a lightsaber, meditation, combat.

In the end we go to one of the gardens where several students are playing, laughing, running. Everyone wore weird clothes, similar to what Luke is wearing, it looks like they have bandages on their legs and some wear brown, gray or white robes, on their torsos they have another piece of cloth.

Luke calls them and they all approach.

“I want to introduce you to our new student, she is Kiara Lang. I hope you receive her with respect and help if necessary,” I feel their eyes on me and I feel somewhat nervous. Some nod with a smile, while others look at me curiously.

“Well, for now you can continue playing, I have to fix certain issues; tomorrow we will continue with your training and Kiara,” I look up, “In a moment I will show you where you will sleep.”

When Luke left the others dispersed none gave importance to my presence. I don't know if that’s a problem.

I walk through the grass until we reach some fences where some flowers of different colors are planted. I touch the petals feeling the softness.

“Where are you from?” A child's voice startles me and I turn to see.

He is taller than me, his hair is black and a little long, I can see that in the back he has a small braid, some children also had it. His dark brown eyes watch me curious, his face covered with freckles.

“What?” I may not have been so popular at home, but I am sure that this is not how you start a conversation.

“Where are you from?” He repeats.

“Tatooine. I'm Kiara,” I raise my hand as a greeting, but he ignores me.

"I know your name, Luke said it just now,” He rolls his eyes and I blush.

“This is the part where you say your name,” I indicate.

“I'm Ben Solo,” I open my mouth to say something else, but he interrupts me, “You’re dirty and your clothes are ripped.”

“Hey Ben, will you come or will you be reading as usual?” Said a girl behind him. She, along with two boys approach. Ben rolls his eyes.

“I prefer to do something other than being with you.

“So Kiara,” says one of them and analyzes me from top to bottom, “Why are you so dirty? Are you some kind of scavenger?” He teases, causing the laughter of his friends.

“Something like that,” The laughs stop and now everyone sees me confused, I shrug. It was not a lie.

“Let's go, it's already starting to stink,” says the girl covering her nose and the three leave.

I frown and take the top of my blouse and bring it to my nose, it may not be the best smell, but I don't think it’s that bad.

“You should change,” says Ben.

“I'll do it later, shouldn't you be with others?” He tenses.

“I'm not very friendly” He grumbles

“Yeah, I also had trouble making friends. Once, a group did not want to play with me and they made fun of me, so I found a dump with several parts of ships and torn fabrics and made a helmet, when it got dark I scared them. Everyone ran away and shouted, I remember one of them peed in his pants-”

I'm focused on telling the story until I hear his laugh, I look at him.

“Seriously?” He says while still laughing. I nod, laughing as well.

“I guess it was fun, not for them, though.” We both laugh louder.

“It’s a good way to scare away others…” Then we remain silent, “Come on, I'll accompany you to your room,” I follow him and we both enter the temple, we walk through several corridors, in the distance I can see small cabins.

I follow Ben down some stairs and stop in front of a cabin

“This is mine and Luke said that one,” Points to the one in front, “would be yours.”

I look at him confused.

“When did he say that?” Ben laughs.

“He told us telepathically just now”

“Oh.”

“You will learn, don’t worry. I was also worried when my parents left me here.”

“Do you have parents?” He seems surprised by my question and nods.

“You do not?”

“No. Well, I guess I had them, but they left me. Jara, an old woman, she raised me,” I didn't care about telling my past, I'm not ashamed and it's not a lie.

“I'm sorry.”

“Never mind. I better change,” I say pointing to my cabin.

“Oh yeah. Inside are your clothes and follow the stairs there,” Points at the end of the cabins, “and go to the right side, there are ponds where you can bathe,” I nod.

“Thanks, Ben,” I smile at him.

“No problem, Kiara.”

__________________________________________________

“Ben did help you?” I nod and Luke seems surprised.

“Why do you look at me like that?” He notices and shakes his head.

“Nothing... he’s not usually... friendly. He does not speak with the others. It surprises me, it's all, but I'm glad.”

“Okay”

Already dressed like the other students, Luke calls me to enter the temple and tell me what I will see from now on.

“You have questions, it's time to ask them.”

“When can I read your mind?” I say annoyed and he laughs.

“It will be complicated, especially with my mind, but you will start with the basics.”

“When will you give me a lightsaber?”

“First you will train with droids.”

“How old is Ben?” This question takes him by surprise.

“He’s ten”

Two years older than me, I thought we were the same age.

“Have the others been here a long time? How do I know I reach their level?”

“Calm down, maybe they’re more advanced, but everything will depend on your performance, Ben is one of the best, and learned fast, but some took longer. Not everyone learns the same, Kiara.”

“Will I only learn to do tricks and fight?”

“No,” He laughs again, “Let me explain: There is something called, ‘The force’ is an energy field, which is produced by cells called ‘midichlorians’, all living beings have them, the difference is that we have a greater amount, we are sensitive to it. You, me, Ben, my students. Thanks to this we can create a relationship that allows us, as you say, to do tricks.”

“Cool.”

“Here you will learn to connect and be able to manipulate that energy, so that you are in balance and harmony. When you arrived and saw the landscape of this planet, how did you feel?”

“At ease…”

“That's what I want to achieve,” He shifts in his place, “But there is another thing you should know: in this balance there must always be a counterpart, the dark side. Long ago there was a war, a force-sensitive person used these skills to manipulate and harness them to create terror and destruction…”

For a moment he loses himself in his thoughts.

Did he knew that person?

Then he returns “Those are called the Sith, we must be careful not to fall on the dark side. Do you remember how the force guided you to my ship?” I nod, “It's the same, but it can do... bad things. You will understand later.”

It's a lot of information, my mind hasn't stopped since I met him, I feel a pain in it and I groan.

“There are many things to remember.”

“I understand, you can go to sleep, Kiara,” I get up from the bench where we were, but before we go, I turn to Luke.

“Are you and Ben family?”

“How…?” He thinks for a moment and then smiles.

“I felt it,” I joke and he nods.

“Is my nephew.”

“Great”

________________________

17 years later..

“It seems that someone could not sleep well,” I let out a growl as I sit on the side of the co-pilot.

I cross my arms and lean on the seat.

“Leave me alone,” he laughs.

“Stop pouting, are you okay?” I sigh.

“Just nightmares,” Suddenly he gets serious.

“Do you want to talk about that?”

“The last one was when I met Ben. It was only that, when I arrived at the temple, but for some reason, I woke up scared and could no longer sleep well. Besides,” I look at him with a sided smile, “You snore, very loud, you can compete against Chewbacca,” I tease and he looks at me for a moment with a frown, then look back to the front.

I laugh at his reaction.

“Very funny, one day I will record you and we will know who could compete with the Wookie.” I laugh again.

“How much left?” I ask, shifting in my place.

“Little, we are already in its system.”

“I hope this doesn't end badly” He laughs.

“Knowing us, everything will end in trouble, sweetheart.”

We were silent for a few minutes, I turn to the window on my right side and watch the stars pass near our ship. We have traveled for a long time to many places in the galaxy, I have seen many planets, different cultures, people, climates, but what I like most about travel is the stars, it’s always fascinated me.

Han knows, sometimes he slows down so I can see them, doesn't matter if we need to get to our meeting with a customer as soon as possible, I appreciate that.

Since I joined his crew, I’ve had time to think about the opportunities I have when traveling (and fleeing) from planet to planet. Now, after so much time, I thought about how much I miss having a place to return. Home. When we had the Millenium Falcon I felt that it was kind of a house where to return.

This ship feels strange and although Han and Chewie are with me, I don't think it's the same.

“Have you ever thought about returning to Leia?” I blurt out. He’s surprised, “I mean being by her side or always arriving at her own home.” He meditates my words.

“I guess so, sometimes. When we were together, going to work and then returning with... them. It became routine,” Then he let out a small laugh, “I must admit that, when I was young, it was my worst nightmare, but with Leia…” He smiles, “It was different, I liked that routine.”

“But everything got worse and you went back to your lonely job.”

“Okay, yes. But now is not so lonely,” He looks at me sideways, “Don't tell Chewie, but you're my favorite,” He winks at me and I laugh.

“I better be,” I tease and he laughs.

“Why do you ask?” I shrug.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, no” I give a light punch to his arm.

“I was thinking,” I repeat, “that I've never had that, I mean, it's great to be with you, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know. It would be... nice, to have a home to return to, maybe... someone waiting for me.”

Han looks at me strangely and I don't blame him, this is not my usual attitude, but it is something I wanted to say.

Now I yearn something different.

I no longer want to run away.

#ben solo #Kylo ren #star wars fanfic #ben solo x reader #twoidiots writing #star wars #home

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zombiesbecrazy · 5 years

Text

strangers and lost ones

Summary: Magic, Bruce had long since decided, was frustratingly random and he very little patience for it.

AO3

Note: This stemmed out of the batfam discord server and a conversation about neonatal abstinence syndrome and then it got wildly out of hand. This is for @helplesslynerdy and @androbeaurepaire, because the conversation inspired this fic. Andro also made awesome art that inspired this fic, which you can find and love and appreciate HERE

Magic, Bruce had long since decided, was frustratingly random and he very little patience for it. From an outsider perspective he could appreciate the artform; the skill, talent and dedication it took magic users told hone their craft to accomplish great things, but as a man dressed up in armour currently trying to outsmart someone who could conjure things out of nothing and rain lightning down from the skies it was just exhausting, especially after having spent days tracking down the offender only for them to slip through dimensions to disappear.

This was the fourth time he had tracked down Klarion in the past five months and at this point part of Bruce was hoping that he would just get tired of this game of cat and mouse that they’ve been playing and just stay in his own damn dimension for a while to give Bruce time to test the prototype he and Zatanna had been working on to seal access between the two worlds.

Klarion cackled as he opened the doorway to his home, casting out a final curse causing yellow sparks to blast around the field, before he and Teekl escaped through his portal back to Witch World. Again.

Bruce ducked and dodged, missing the spell by inches, but he heard a shout behind him, Jason’s familiar yelp of surprise when something caught him unaware, and his heart jumped into his throat and sank into his stomach at the same time and he turned and ran to where his back up for the evening had been fighting from.

But they weren’t there. Not exactly.

Instead of Red Hood and Nightwing, Bruce found a baby and a small child, curled up together on the forest floor in tiny, maskless versions of their uniforms, somehow less armor and more like footie pyjamas, but easily recognizable. Bruce crouched down and picked up tiny baby, Jason, who now that Bruce was closer to him, was even younger than originally thought at first glimpse, days old at best. Bruce had held babies before, countless of times both as Bruce, where people seemed to thrust them into his arms for photo ops, and as Batman, when people always wanted to pull them away because they had just been rescued, but he had never held one with this much personal meaning to him before. He had missed all of his kids at this age, when they were absolutely helpless and dependent on others in the world for everything beyond breathing. Jason was so small that Bruce could barely even notice the weight in his arms, less than five pounds and impossibly fragile, and all he could do was coo in attempt to settle the trembling baby.

He directed his attention to the older boy and Dick was staring at him with wide blue eyes, sitting back on his hands and feet like a crab and schooched farther away from Bruce, just out of arms reach, as soon as Bruce attempted to get closer.

Had Klarion somehow de-aged them twenty years? It made sense based on the apparent age of them. Jason’s twentieth birthday had been mere days ago and as much as it was terrifying to have a newborn baby in his arms, Bruce had to let out a sigh of relief because it was a good thing Tim, Cass or Damian weren’t there because Bruce wasn’t sure what would have happened then. “Dick?” It wasn’t a common event, but de-aging was something that had been known to happen, and there were two regular ways that it seemed to go. The person either retained their memories from their time as an adult and was just trapped in a younger version of their body or their minds were regressed along with their body back to their corresponding developmental stage. Both weren’t without their challenges, but only one of the two targets could tell him which it was, because even if Jason’s adult mind was in the baby, he wasn’t able to communicate it. “Can you tell me how old you are, chum?”

The child stared at him for a moment longer before holding up a shaking hand with four fingers extended. Four tiny and delicate fingers that he then closed again tight and curled up into a tight ball, eyes darting around quickly, looking at the forest clearing they were in in bewilderment before looking back to Bruce and sucking in a quaking breath that shook on every part of the inhale. The child, his son, was terrified and confused and did not remember that he was a twenty four year old superhero at all.

“I don’t know where my parents are,” whispered Dick, voice high and soft, and tears started dripping down his cheeks. He struggled to swallow and took another deep breath. “I think I’m lost.”

Bruce’s heart shattered at the words, not just at the verbal confirmation that Dick and Jason had reverted twenty years in mind as well as body, but that Dick sounded so scared. It wasn’t an emotion that Dick often let show as an adult and seeing it now, so open and raw, had Bruce wanting more than anything to wrap him up in his arms and assure him that everything would be alright but he couldn’t because four year old Dick, who appeared to be teetering on the edge of a very much deserved meltdown, didn’t know Bruce at all and probably wouldn’t react well to that at all.

“I know, Dick.” A lot of kids, even those who had toys of him and knew that he wouldn’t hurt them, found the Batman costume terrifying in person, especially the mask, so pulled off the cowl and gave his hair a shake so that Dick would be able to see his face, a small attempt to let him know that he wasn’t a monster but Dick’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Bruce huffed out a short breath, and looked at the ground, because of course Dick didn’t bat an eye at the mask. At four he would have spent his whole life travelling with Haly’s, surrounded by people in costumes and masks. He tried again. “My name is Bruce and I’m going to look after you for them while they are gone.”

The small boy finally looked away and buried his face into his knees, and his little body shook. “But I don’t know you,” he finally mumbled. “I’m not supposed to go with strangers.”

Something snapped into place for Bruce. Of course the child knew that he shouldn’t go with strangers, especially with travelling from place to place it would have been something repeated over and over again by his parents, but it was also very possible that because of that lifestyle, Dick had never been left alone with a stranger at all. Never had a babysitter that he hadn’t grown up with, hadn’t been dropped off at daycare or first day of school. Bruce was quite possibly the first stranger that Dick had ever met in person and not just seen from a distance in a circus crowd. “I understand, and that is very smart, but I can’t leave you here all by yourself.” Dick’s head rose from his knees, face red and a mess of tears, and he looked around the field again before settling back on Bruce, but didn’t say anything. “I’ll take you back to my house and we’ll wait for your parents there.” He didn’t know if that was going to work, if four year old Dick would ask how they would get in contact with his parents, how they would know where to find him. Bruce rocked the baby in his arms gently, and tilted his chin down at him. “You can help me look after Jason.”

Dick’s eyes dropped and then widened, apparently not having registered that Bruce was holding a baby in his arms before with everything else that he was trying to absorb. He uncurled from his ball and leaned a little closer to Bruce, trying to look at the tiny version of the brother that he didn’t know he had. "Is he lost too?"

"I think so."

Dick straightened up, squared is tiny shoulders in resolve and rearranged his face into a smaller version of one Bruce knew quite well on Dick; fierce protection. It frankly looked adorable on a small child in a pyjama version of the Nightwing costume. "I'll take care of him." I don't know you but I'll protect the baby. "Do you know my dad?" Dick asked, not taking his eyes off Jason.

“I’ve never met him,” Bruce admitted because it felt like a test more than it did genuine curiosity. He could have lied, said that he did know John Grayson if for some reason that made Dick feel better about him, and fake his way through whatever questions Dick followed up with, but it didn’t seem right to lie to him any more than was necessary. “But I do know Mr. Haly, if that helps any.”

That seemed to catch Dick’s attention back and he looked up at Bruce again, still uncertain but a little more at ease, tension easing from his frame. “You know Pop?” He slid closer to Bruce, finally back within reach, close enough that if he wanted to, Bruce could reach out and run his hand through Dick’s soft hair.

“I do.”

That seemed to be the deciding factor for Dick, because he got to his feet and held out his hand to Bruce. “Okay. You can look after me until Mama comes.” He was still scared, as he absolutely should be, but between wanting to look out for the baby and Bruce saying that he knew Pop Haly was enough to make him feel like going with a strange man was a better option than staying alone in an empty forest. As glad as he was the Dick had agreed to go with him without a fight and he didn’t have to drag him kicking and screaming to the car, it made Bruce nervous how easy it was to convince the child to got with a strangers in a scary costume into a car, with only the slightest of prompting. It was terrifying how much trust was being placed in his hands. Bruce got to his feet, made sure that Jason was snug and secure in his arm and held Dick’s tiny hand and led him back to where they had left the car.

They got to the car and Dick stopped short, looking at it in awe. “Your car is cool!”

“Thank you. My son named it the Batmobile.”

“You have kids?”

“I do. Five, but they are mostly all grown up now.” Or they were usually all mostly grown up at least.

Bruce paused at the car and tried to think about logistics. The car had taken a lot of damage earlier in the night as they had been chasing down Klarion and the autopilot function was offline and the steering column was malfunctioning and he was going to need both hands to drive home, which left the problem of what to do with Jason. Considering all of his options, he looked down at Dick. “Have you ever held a baby before?”

“Once, but she was bigger.” Dick bit his lower lip and looked at the baby in Bruce’s arms. “He’s really little.”

“He’s brand new,” and probably a premie. Bruce detached his cape and laid it on the hood of the car before carefully laying Jason in the middle before wrapping him tight into a burrito wrap. This was a terrible idea, but it was the best that he had right now if he was going to be able to drive back to the cave. “I’m going to need you to do a very important job for me, Dick. Climb into the backseat and put the seat belt on.” If he was going to drive with a four year old holding a newborn without car seats in a car that was absolutely not street legal, they were going to sit in the backseat even if it was only for some pretense of safe decisions. Dick climbed in, Bruce resisting the urge to give him a boost, and pulled the belt across him. “Do you need help with the buckle?”

“No, I can do it.” It took him a few tries, but he got it locked in place and smiled up at Bruce triumphantly.

“Good job,” Bruce said and then smiled as Dick kicked his legs against the seat at the praise. “Now, I’m going to put Jason in your lap and you are going to hold him like this.” Bruce arranged Dick and Jason in a way that was going to be the best that he could do in the moment. “Can you hold onto him like this until we get to my house? Keep him safe in the car?”

“I can do that.” He looked down at the tiny baby. “I’ll keep you safe, Jason.” His head snapped back up to Bruce, expression serious and dour, like it did when Dick saw an unexpected bomb as an adult. “What if he cries?”

“Just remember that it isn’t anything you’ve done. Babies this small mostly just cry when they are hungry and we’ll get food for him at my house.” He looked at his first two children in the car, curled up together in a way that in his wildest dreams he never thought he’d get to see and fought the urge to take out his phone for a picture, knowing that the cameras in the car would cover that for him. “If something happens and you think you need to let go, tell me and I’ll stop the car right away to help you, alright?” Dick nodded and tightened his arms up around Jason, either so that he could be sure that he had him or that he could show Bruce that he was taking his job seriously, Bruce wasn’t sure, but it was as good as it was going to get.

He slipped into the front seat, frowned as the engine turned over in a struggling way, but managed to get on the road without a lot of issues. He’s glad that he hadn’t tried to drive while holding Jason because the steering was even worse than he had thought, pulling severely to the right and he had to overcompensate to keep the car straight on the road. He was headed back towards Bristol, driving through the heights of Gotham, under the speed limit, when a call came through from the cave.

“Master Bruce? Is everything alright.”

“Things are,” he shook his head as he tried to sum up what happened before he settled on “complicated.” He looked at Dick in the rear view mirror and saw that he was being watched with interest. He didn’t know how to best explain to Alfred without potentially frightening tiny ears not understanding properly what was going on before he decided to be honest, but while using big words and hope that Dick didn’t understand what they meant. “There has been a mystical chronological regression anomaly in regards to Nightwing and Red Hood. I’ve found two unattended minors and I am transporting them home now. My new young friend Dick is listening from the backseat. He’s doing a very good job of holding on baby Jason for me.” He saw Dick beam at the praise, but kept looking at Jason’s face.

Several seconds passed in silence before Alfred responded. “That explains the changes in their vitals, I suppose,” Alfred muttered, more to himself than Bruce, and it sounded like he was looking something up on the monitors, keys clicking quickly in the background. “They are both unharmed?”

“It seems so.” Dick hadn’t said anything about any injuries and Jason hadn’t been crying at all, but he hadn’t actually checked either of them out physically, instead choosing to get out of the field.

Alfred hummed and there was more typing and clicking on his end of the line. “In that case we may need to take a look at Master Jason in the med bay when you arrive. Nothing to be alarmed about, but I’d like to examine him thoroughly to be certain.”

Minutes later, Bruce drove into the cave and Alfred rushed over to meet them in the parking area as the car shut down and the automatic doors opened. Bruce got out and came around to Dick’s side where Alfred was already crouched down and introducing himself.

“Hello, Master Dick. My name is Alfred. I heard that you were looking after the baby.” Dick nodded, but said nothing, maybe nervous again now that they had arrived at their destination and in the face of yet another unknown stranger. “Would you be willing to let me take him? I would like to give him a medical exam to make sure he is healthy.”

Dick’s arms tightened around Jason. “Will you hurt him?” The little voice shook, fear back in his eyes as he looked to Bruce before turning back to Alfred’s kind face.

“I’m going to use a needle to take a little of his blood and it will pinch, so he may cry, but no.”

“Like a doctor?”

“Yes, my boy. Exactly like that.” The small boy looked at Alfred inquisitively, trying to discern about whether he should let him take Jason or not, but Jason took that moment to let out a sharp cry and Dick loosened his grip in surprise. He nodded quickly at Alfred, who scooped him up in a practiced and steady way, rubbing his back through the cape burrito. “You can come watch over him while I do the examination.” Dick unclipped his seat belt and clambered out of the car, determined on following Alfred. He got a few feet away from the car and then ran back and grabbed Bruce’s hand and tugged him along after Alfred.

Alfred laid Jason down on the bed, and unwrapped the cape, and took in Jason’s appearance and then looked down at Dick before turning to Bruce. “Did you stop on the way home and buy… costumes?”

Bruce shrugged, because yes, he had noticed that they were in kid versions of their costumes, but hadn’t really had a chance to think too much about it. “No, it’s what they were in when it happened.”

“How peculiar,” Alfred mused as he unbuttoned Jason’s Red Hood onesie, when he paused and chuckled. “He’s even wearing a nappy.”

Bruce and Dick watched as Alfred did his examination, warming the stethoscope with his hands before listening to his heart and letting Dick listen to the beat as well, gently feeling his muscle tone, and as he had told Dick he would, taking a sample of his blood, which Jason chirped at, but didn’t actually cry and Bruce didn’t know if that was good or bad based on Alfred’s expression.

Dick had climbed up on the bed beside Jason and was watching everything with interest. Bruce hesitated, but this was probably going to be the best opportunity that he had to change out of the suit, and he still needed to contact Zatanna about the situation. “I’m going to go get changed and shower, Dick. Will you be fine with Alfred until I get back?” Dick shrugged and Bruce bent down to look at him in the eyes, putting a light touch on his shoulder. “I promise that you will be absolutely safe with Alfred. He looked after me when I was your age.”

“Is Alfred your daddy?” Dick asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. Bruce gazed up at Alfred, who was currently doing an examination of Jason’s ears, but listening to the conversation between himself and Dick. Dick was looking uneasy at the idea of Bruce leaving the room, and his little face was threatening to flood with tears again. He had to express to Dick that he trusted Alfred more than anything in the world in a way that he would understand, so he nodded firmly.

“Yes, and I swear he’ll keep you safe.” Dick sniffed said nothing else, seeming to decide that was good enough for him to agree to stay with Alfred while Bruce changed. Bruce leaned in and mock whispered close to Dick’s ear, but so that Alfred could hear as well, “And I happen to know that he has a jar of lollipops that he gives out after he gives someone a needle. Jason’s too small for his, so he will probably give it to you after he’s finished if you ask him nicely.”

“A red one?” Bruce nodded and Dick copied the action before wiping his eyes with his hand. “Okay. Come back soon?”

“Ten minutes.”

Bruce could do a lot with ten minutes. He went back to the locker room, stripped out of the suit, texted Zatanna, showered, threw on some sweats, downed a protein shake and then followed up with Zatanna that she would stop by tomorrow morning for some breakfast and magical evaluations and possible conjuring if the case needed it, however she confirmed what he already knew that more de-aging usually wore off on it’s own over time.

He walked back to the med bay to find Alfred sitting at a chair beside the bed, holding Jason just in his diaper against his chest and rubbing his back in slow circles, while Dick sat on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge, lollipop sitting in his mouth, chattering away at Alfred about tightrope walkers when Dick saw him and froze.

“You look like you lost a fight with a lioness,” he gasped, and Bruce followed his gaze down to his chest where he hadn’t zipped up his hoodie. He had some fresh cuts that weren’t deep enough to suture but needed bandaging and he was mottled with scars from previous exploits. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. It looks worse than it is. Alfred will look after me.”

“Just like you are looking after us?”

“The very same.”

“You have a dinosaur in your house,” Dick remarked randomly, looking out past the limits of the med bay into the rest of the cave. “Do all houses have dinosaurs?”

It was such a calmly asked but bizarre question and it threw Bruce completely off guard, and by the expression on Alfred’s face, did the same to him which meant a lot because Bruce could count the amount of times that he had seen Alfred truly caught unaware during his lifetime on his fingers. “Have... you never been in a house before?” It was something that Bruce had never really considered, and when Dick had moved in when he was eight he hadn’t mentioned anything remotely like that, so Bruce had to assume that by then he had been in a house at least once, but now that he thought about it, not only had Dick never met any strangers before, his entire upbringing had been either on a train or in a caravan. The child had travelled internationally and had more stamps in his passport than most had in a lifetime but had never lived in a stationary residence.

And now he just accepted that Bruce’s house was an underground cave with a dinosaur in it because he had no other frame of reference.

“No,” said Dick, as if was the most obvious answer in the world. “Can I go look at it?”

“Yes, but be careful? Just to the dinosaur and back. Stay where I can see you.” Dick jumped off the bed and then walked towards the dinosaur a little skip in his step.

Despite Bruce’s words to Dick, he didn’t need Alfred for these injuries and was able to reach to the cabinets for the tape and gauze that he needed and set to work on his own injuries in silence. He looked at Alfred as he bandaged himself up, still holding Jason in his arms and caressing his skin, and was troubled by the pinch in Alfred’s face, the way that his eyebrows were drawn in, ever more slightly than they usually did, unless he was upset about something. “Is he okay?”

“His blood work is still running, but he is as I expected.” Alfred frowned, but leaned down to kiss Jason’s small head. “He is dehydrated and has a slight fever, as well as being underweight for his approximated age and I suspect that he was not full term. He’s quiet, which is unusual, but based on what we know of his personal history and the information we do have, I have reason to suspect that he may be dealing with withdrawal.”

Bruce’s breath caught in his chest. “NAS? Even though that was twenty years ago?” His fingers twitched with desire to track down the ones who had hurt their child, his child, in such a way, who had focused through own wants over the well being of their unborn child like that, but Sheila Hayward and Willis Todd were long past punishable for this particular sin and Bruce was going to have to just swallow this rage down and redirect onto things that he could help the current situation. “Jason doesn’t touch drugs. He barely ever drinks.”

“His de-aged body doesn’t appear to know that,” murmured Alfred. “Has he been fussy?”

“No. Barely a peep.” He stared down at the baby nestled against Alfred. He wasn’t sleeping, and Bruce wasn’t sure that he had slept since the entire incident had occurred. He just laid there, lax against Alfred, simply breathing with his eyes cracked open, too young to even see anything besides blurs.

“Well, that is something at least.” Alfred looked out towards the dinosaur, and smiled as he watched Dick walk around it, running his hands across the surface of it as he wandered between the legs which made Bruce snort. It was something so achingly familiar that Dick had always done and never grew out of, dragging his fingertips across all kinds of surfaces and letting the touch translate his environment around him in a way that only made sense to him. It had taken forever to train it out of him when he was Robin, but it was something he still did when he was Dick, without even noticing he was doing it. “Why don’t you and Master Dick get settled while I feed Master Jason and prepare something for a snack and bring it up to your room?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather try feeding him for the first time without Master Dick around if it is alright with you. I’m not sure if there will be issues and I’d prefer not to frighten the boy further.” The two of them stood and walked out of the med bay and Dick ran towards them as he saw them move. “And he seems rather fond of you.”

The four of them rode up the elevator to the manor, where they then parted ways with Alfred and Jason headed to the kitchen and Bruce leading Dick to the third floor when he noticed that Dick was no longer beside him. He turned and backtracked and found Dick sitting on the stairs, silent tears painting his cheeks, everything that he had been doing is best to hold in having reached a breaking point and bubbling over. Bruce sat down beside him, trying to figure out what to say or ask, but before he had a chance Dick launched himself at Bruce, climbing fully into his arms and wrapping him in a tight hug as he started sobbing a full force.

There was nothing that Bruce could do other than to hug him back, which only made Dick somehow cry harder which he hadn’t thought was possible. He petted Dick’s hair in a way that he remembered Dike liking when he was a child and hoped that it would have the same effect now, and mumbled reassuring nonsense that everything would be alright.

They sat there for a long time, much longer than Dick’s meltdown had lasted, wrapped up in each others arms, Dick’s tiny hand curled into the fabric of Bruce’s shirt and with Bruce wanting more than anything to be able to be the thing that Dick needed him to be right now but knowing that he was a weak substitute at best.

“My mama and papa aren’t coming tonight, are they?” A small voice asked out of the silence, muffled into the fabric on Bruce’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid not. Hopefully they’ll be here tomorrow.” Bruce had no idea what to do if this was going to be a long term thing, what he would say to convince Dick that he hadn’t been kidnapped or separated from his parents by force or any other thing, but he could only focus on the now. “It’s okay if you’re scared. You are in a new place, and you don’t know anyone and you miss them. You’ve been very brave.”

“I’m a Flying Grayson. I’m always brave.”

“Very true.” Bruce stood up slowly, carrying Dick carefully in his arms and still holding the hug tight, while continuing the walk up to the bedroom. “How about you and Jason and I have a sleepover tonight in my room so that none of use have to be alone. We’ll get a big pile of blankets and pillows and snacks and watch any movies you want.”

“I don’t have to go to sleep?” Dick wiped his eyes, whether it be from the tears or a self conscious reaction to talking about sleep.

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.” He rested his head back against Bruce’s shoulder. “Do you have…” He trailed off into silence, question disappearing.

“Do I have any what, Dick?”

“Stuffed animals?” he whispered hopefully. Of course the child would want a toy for comfort, a familiar face in the middle of chaos even if it wasn’t their own.

And Bruce had something even better.

“I can think of the perfect one for you if you don’t mind that it is used.” He stopped and walked back to the door that they had just passed and adjusted Dick in his arms as he turned the handle and opened the door slowly, flicking on the light. “This is my oldest son’s room. He’s not here right now, but I know that he has some that you can borrow.”

“He won’t mind?” Dick asked carefully, as if he didn’t want to get excited about the idea only to be told that he couldn’t borrow the toy after all.

“Not at all. He’ll be glad that you played with them.” Bruce settled Dick down onto the carpet, and rubbed his back, nudging him forward. “There is one on the bed that I think you might like. It’s his favourite.”

Dick walked up to the bed and let out a giggle. “It’s an elephant!” he whispered, before turning back around to look at Bruce, excitement in his eyes. “I have an elephant like this at home!”

“I thought you might.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? If I use his elephant?”

“Absolutely.” Dick reached for it and hugged his arms around it tight as soon as it was in his grasp, burying his face into the worn fur and Bruce was caught with a sense of deja vu, remembering a slightly older child, but in the same room with the same elephant doing the same motion when he was upset and homesick. “Let’s take it and go to my room and settle in for the night.” He reached a hand out to Dick, and they headed back to Bruce’s room.

They worked to pull blankets and pillows together on Bruce’s big California King bed, building a nest fort hybrid on the mattress until Dick deemed it perfect and snuggled down into the goose down duvet, while Bruce propped himself up against the headboard and stretched his legs out before turning the television on. Dick didn’t know what movie he wanted to watch and Bruce had the suspicion that the Grayson’s may not have had a TV in their trailer so he didn’t have a good idea of what he liked. He was flipping through the options, trying to figure out what movie wouldn’t be potentially triggering for a four year old in Dick’s situation (Tarzan? No. Bambi? Definitely not. Why were all these movies about death and loss? Toy Story? Maybe?) when Alfred tapped a knuckle on the door frame, which startled Dick and had him diving under the covers.

“Master Bruce?”

Alfred entered the room with Jason cradled against him and a picnic basket tucked in the crook of his arm. “There are bottles of formula and snacks for the two of you in there, as well as some other baby supplies that you may need for the evening.” He didn’t say the words exactly, but as he settled the basket onto the bedside table Bruce understood that this was his way of saying that he was going to bed and that it was now Bruce’s turn again.

“Did he eat?”

“Not as much as I would like, but some. He has some issues with suckling but he managed to keep some formula down.” Alfred swayed back and forth, rubbing Jason’s back and looking at the pile of blankets that was Dick before turning back to Bruce. “Skin to skin contact is best for struggling newborns, my boy.”

Bruce stared at him blankly for a few seconds as the words registered and information that he had read on NAS, premature babies and other such illnesses came rushing back. Kangaroo care; skin to skin contact for as long as possible, human touch can help to normalize breathing, heart rate, weight gain, among other things. It was an interesting phenomenon that he had often wondered about but had no way of testing himself. He shrugged off his hoodie, laying it beside him on the bed and reached out for the baby in Alfred’s arms and was reminded again of just how small Jason was as he came to rest on his chest, receiving blanket covering them both.

It was different than before, when there had been a layer of armor between them, now when he could feel the skin on his own, feel Jason’s tiny heart fluttering in his chest, fighting battles so hard from the very start and doing so well.

Bruce was going to do everything in his power to keep this tiny heart safe from harm.

"Do you want for anything, Master Dick?" Alfred asked kindly. Bruce thought for a moment that Dick might says something, but instead shook his head silently and burrowed deeper into the blankets, closer to Bruce's hip, snuggling up against him.

“Thank you, Al.” Alfred nodded and retreated from the room, leaving Bruce, Jason and Dick to along their own devices.

They sat in the quiet for a little while before Bruce started to hear a voice in the general area that Dick was hiding under the blanket. He couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like Dick was having a conversation with somebody. “Are you alright, Dick?”

A tiny head popped up, closely followed by a stuffed elephant, which Bruce only now realised had been the thing that Dick was talking to. Dick shifted up closer and cuddled close enough that his head was resting on Bruce’s stomach as a pillow, but below the bundle that was Jason. “I miss my family.” He confessed, squeezing the elephant tight. Bruce couldn’t see his face, but he could feel wetness under Dick’s face again. “What if they don’t know where to find me?” he whispered.

“Your family will find you Dick. They’ll always find you.” Bruce reached down and ran his hands through Dick’s hair, just as he had a million times before and would do countless times again, and the boy leaned into the touch. “You’ll never be lost again.”

#whumptober2019 #no.26 #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #Jason Todd #de-aging

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ograndebatata · 4 years

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My future Eleteo children

Okay... I’ve been meaning to make this post for some time now, but other things kept putting it off... but recent events have inspired me to finally put it together, so here it is.

These are my versions of the children Elena and Mateo end up having. Technically, they’re part of my Tales of the Ever Realm AU, but I started working on them before said AU was a ‘truly set thing’. I’m not sure how fair it is to count them as ‘future children’, but I still wanted to share them.

To those interested in knowing more about them, please click below.

Candida Doroteia de Alva Flores (girl) - The first born child, and the heir to the throne of Avalor, Candida takes very much after her father. Her long hair, facial features and complexion are more reminiscent of her mother (though she wears her hair tied in a braid rather than a ponytail), but her eyes and hair color are inherited from her father, and her general personality is also closer to him.

At first glance, she looks like a vain girl who takes great pride in her appearance, given the dresses, tiaras, hair ties and hair pins that she wears, but any long period of time spent with her leads people to see that she’s a quiet child who goes about her studies dilligently, and a bit of a lone wolf, a big reason for her apparent pride in her appearance is to hide her lack of self-confidence. She is open and easygoing with her parents and their closest friends and their children, but draws into her own shell with people outside that immediate circle.

She’s shy and soft-spoken enough that some have suggested that she may not be ready to be the future queen, but both her parents insist that Candida will be the one making that decision if she wants to, and both believe she will be a good queen.

Since she was a child, Candida was compassionate to others and tries to do her best to help people if she sees them in trouble. And while she doesn’t make a show of it, she’s determined enough that if she runs into a problem she will keep trying to solve it until she exhausts every possible option.

She likes history and literature, and while she’s not as interested in magic as some of her siblings, she does like it to a degree, and is good at defensive spells.

She also has a good singing voice, and likes to play more than one instrument, though she mostly sings to herself when she feels she needs to cheer herself up.

She’s close to her parents, and also to her Aunt Isabel and to her Uncle Desmond. She’s also somewhat close to ‘Tia Val’ and ‘Tio Manuel’.

Alexandro Rui “Alex” de Alva Flores (boy) - The second born child, born a little over a year after Candida, and very much her opposite in many ways, being an impulsive sort who believes in following his instincts and thinks he can take everything that life throws at him.

He has his mother’s hair and eye color, and a skin tone similar to hers, but he wears his hair short.

He loves sports (his favorites being fencing, olaball, and horse riding) and very much dislikes studying, to the point it can be a struggle to get him to attend his lessons, which is not to say that he is dumb, as he certainly is clever enough to devise ways to sneak pan dulce from trays or explain why he was late for his lessons. Compromises to get him to attend his lessons have to come about somewhat often, and a few times it’s even necessary for his parents to put their foot down, most often Elena.

But despite how different he is from his older sister, they do get along well, and she’s the first he will turn to if he feels he can’t turn to his parents. And while he can be a bit conceited when he wins, as well as a sore loser if he loses, he’s overall a nice boy. And as much as Elena is the one who puts her foot down with him, he’s closer to her than to Mateo.

He doesn’t very much like magic at all, typically finding it boring, although like all of Elena’s children, he had to do the ‘required basic training’ to control the magic he was born with.

Outside of blood relatives, the ones he’s closest to are ‘Tio Gabe’, ‘Tia Naomi’ and ‘Tio Marzel’.

Leonor Matide de Alva Flores (girl) - The third born child, and the oldest of a set of fraternal twins, both born a bit two years after Alex. She has her mother’s hair and skin tone, and green eyes like her late great-grandmother Luisa and her late first cousin once removed Esteban. She doesn’t wear her hair as long as her older sister or mother, but it still goes down to the small of her back when she wears it down, which she does most of the time. She most often wears a wizard robe similar to the one her father wore when he started out as Royal Wizard.

She’s one of the spitfires in the family, and while no one will say she’s a bad child, much less evil, she tends to get in trouble for three main reasons.

For one, her passion for magic matches her father’s, and she can’t wait to know all the spells there are to know, which can lead to her trying to cast a given spell before she’s ready for it.

For another, she’s a very competitive child, who gets offended if anyone doubts her magical sklls, often going above and beyond the call of duty to prove them wrong, sometimes with less than stellar results.

For yet another, she has a very intense rivalry with her twin brother (who’s as interested in and as passionate about magic as her) always wanting to prove she is better than him.

All of these things already lead to some incidents, although both siblings learned to restrain themselves after one of their competitions almost had a very unfortunate outcome.

That said, for all that she and her brother bicker and compete about magic, both are there for each other when it really matters, and woe be whoever derides or mocks one of them in the other’s presence. Also, for the surprise of many, she’s a very affectionate child, and when someone she loves is sad, she always goes for hugs first before saying she’ll teach a lesson to whoever made them sad.

While Leonor excels at magic, she’s much poorer in just about every other field, and although her grades still aren’t ghastly per se, everyone thinks she could do much better at everything if she put in half the effort she puts into learning magic. Like Alex, she fares quite well at sports, and more than once tried to copy her father’s elaborate magical acrobatics (not always with the best results).

To the surprise of some, she is actually a very affectionate child,

She idolizes her mother and father, and other than her twin brother, the sibling she is closest to is her big sister Candida.

Outside of her family, the one she is closest to is Fiero, to the point that out of she is one of only two of Elena’s children who calls him Tio Fiero. Not only is he funny (there is something weirdly hilarious about his near-constant seriousness), but he is very patient when teaching her and her brother magic, and has plenty of stories to tell them about their great-grandfather, which they both love to hear.

She is also close to Olivia, although the now Royal Wizard has less time to teach her magic. She also likes spending time with Carla, and although the malvaga does not actually teach her magic, she will be open to helping her with magical practice on her free time.

Lucero Ignacio de Alva Flores (boy) - The fourth born child, and the youngest of the twins. Like his twin sister, he has his great-grandmother’s green eyes, and his mother’s hair color, although his skin tone is a few shades darker than hers.

He also wears his hair rather long (about shoulder-length), as he thinks it ‘makes him look cooler’. He also tends to wear a wizard robe similar to the one his father did when he first started out as Royal Wizard.

He is as much of a spitfire as his twin sister, and his love for magic matches hers, which is why he tends to get into trouble also (whether alongside his sister or separately from her). He is as competitive towards her as she is towards him, and also tends to take it personally if his magical skills are thrown into question.

That said, he is as present for his sister if she needs him as she is if he needs her, and he will defend her from anyone who tries to hurt her in any way, just like she does him.

He is somewhat less inventive with magic than his sister, but he is better at grasping the theory of it, and will often get the handle of a spell faster than she does. He also has more patience to sit through academics, and does better at school work than his sister. However, she has him beat in terms of acrobatics, and if they play olaball against one another he usually loses.

Like his sister, Lucero is more affectionate than many expect from such a spitfire, to the point that he and his sister have no fights over who gets to comfort anyone they love who happens to be sad near them both at the same time: they always share the task. However, he ia bit shyer about ‘getting affection’.

Also like with his twin sister, his favorite person after his parents is Fiero (he is the other of Elena’s children who calls him Tio Fiero), and he will attach himself to the former malvago at any half-chance, for the same reasons his sister does, and generally has an opinion of him similar to hers: there’s something funny about his constant seriousness, and his stories about Alacazar are wonderful to hear, and he’s a great magic teacher.

That said, he does think Olivia is much more fun when it comes to showing them the actual fun side of magic.

He also like spending time with Carla, whether it’s practicing magic with her help or listening to the stories of her adventures (although she always turns him down if she asks him to tell stories more related to her confrontations with Elena on the days they were ‘more at odds’).

Núria Jazmin de Alva Flores (girl) - The last born child of Elena and Mateo, born a bit over seven years after Leonor and Lucero.

She has somewhat darker hair and complexion than either of her parents, and dark-brown eyes. Like her mother and her oldest sister, her hair falls down to below her waist when she wears it down, but out of the whole family, she is the one who tends to change up her hairstyle the most, even outside of formal occasions.

Like other last-born children, she feels she is the family baby, although her siblings and especially parents try to not make her feel that she is. Sometimes, she worries that she doesn’t help her case by being so much of a mommy’s and daddy’s girl, but she secretly loves that they care when she feels down and loves their hugs when she is sad.

She is also the girliest one out of Elena’s daughters, at least when it comes to her attire, wanting to wear dresses and change up her hairstyle simply out of personal preference rather than to make herself feel confident.

She insists she doesn’t want to be babied just because she is the youngest one, and that she is just as capable as any of her older siblings. And to give her due credit, she can back up her words, as she performs very well in academics, is good at fencing and olaball, and also does well at magic. That said, she is secretly a bit afflicted by the fact she doesn’t ‘truly stand out’ in any field. Candida sings better than her, Alex is better at sports than her, and both Leonor and Lucero are better at magic than her. She may be above average in most things she does, but she does not excel at any specific one like any of her siblings. And that worries her sometimes, as she feels that if she isn’t ‘truly uniquely special’ at anything, she’s less than them.

Both Elena and Mateo reassure her that she is perfectly special and fine just as she is, and Núria knows they speak the truth.

But all the same, deep down she wishes that someday she will find anything she can be the best at.

She gets along well with all her siblings, but she does not have a ‘true favorite’ among them. Like all of Elena’s and Mateo’s children, she loves her mother and father. Outside of her blood family, the person she is closest to is Prisma.

#elena of avalor #fanfic stuff #tales of the ever realm au #eleteo #Eleteo kids #future children #sort of

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

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Ectober Week Day 7: Masquerade/Laboratory - This Is Not In Vain Chap.1: Familial In Vein

The weirdest things always happen to Danny. This time, apparently, his ectoplasm is sentient.

Danny walks down into the basement only to just seemingly get struck by two massive bolts of electricity. Promptly passing out on the floor.

Jack and Maddie only had a second to gape as the new invention both of them were fiddling with flat-out attacked Danny. Both passing out right after.

They come to before Danny, firmly confused by not being able to move their bodies....no, body actually.

Maddie: ‘what’s going on? Why does this body hurt and ache so much?’.

Jack: ‘not sure Mads, you sound like your bouncing around in my head’.

Maddie: ‘yours as well. I think, we were both holding the device right? Before it zapped Danny?’.

Jack: ‘yes, yes we were. But then. No that shouldn’t work? Danny-boy’s no ghost’.

Maddie: ‘he has ectoplasm in him Jack. That’s probably enough. But why does his body feel like this? It’s like he’s covered in tender bruising’.

Jack: ‘so we, are in, Danny’s body then? Since the SOS, Shadow Over Shadow, was supposed to let humans overshadow ghosts? And I don’t know Mads, maybe he was working out?’.

Maddie: ‘I think we are. But since Danny isn’t actually a ghost, I’m pretty sure it worked wrong’.

Jack: ‘of course! We must just be overshadowing the ectoplasm to a degree’.

Maddie: ‘then maybe...’.

Maddie tries moving but more fluid, tense up, and like muscles under-skin, rather than actually outwardly moving. Both of them picking up on a slight sloshing in Danny’s body that is decidedly very uncomfortable. Maddie mentally cringes as Danny jerks and snaps awake. Danny shakes out his arms, “what the?”.

Maddie: ‘maybe that wasn’t the best idea’.

Jack: ‘probably shouldn’t control any part of him. Except for communication maybe? Think he can hear us?’.

Maddie: ‘we’re likely in his ectoplasm not his mind. I’m sure sweetie can figure it out though...you did write down all the details right?’.

Jake: ‘uhhhhhh’.

Danny shakes his head and gets up, “okay that was weird”, looking around and tilting his head, “I’m pretty sure my folks were down here”.

Jack: ‘that was quick! That’s a Fenton for you!’.

Maddie: *chuckles warmly*

Danny walks over to the workbench -both parents noticing how his hip aches at the movement- and tilts his head down at the mess all over it. Grabbing a pencil and poking at one of the smoking devices, “okay, obviously that’s what zapped me. Let’s not do that again”, grabbing the schematics, which is pretty much just a drawing, no details or notes.

Maddie: ‘JACK! How is he supposed to even attempt to fix this?’.

Jack: ‘whoops, heh’.

Danny pulls out his phone and starts taking photos, “just in case there’s some side effects. Just reverse engineer some and fix the problem as needed”, chuckling, “hopefully Tuck won’t have to hack NASA again just to do that”. Slipping his phone back in his pocket and heading up the stairs, intending to snoop around for his folks some.

Maddie: ‘hacking? Tucker hacked the government?!?’.

After looking around for a bit Danny shrugs, “must be out hunting or something. Maybe I sho-”, Danny cuts himself off at feeling a chill through his body and feeling mist plume out of his mouth. Snapping his head to the side and crouching, moving forward silent and cautious.

Jack: ‘what was the cold? What’s he doing?‘.

Maddie: ‘seems like prowling? But I really don’t know’.

Danny sticks his head around the door, spotting Cujo and sighing with relief. Straightening up and walking forward, bending down to ruffle the pups' fur, “what’s up boy? What? Get bored? Let me see if I ca-”

Maddie: ‘Danny! What are you doing?!? That is a ghost!’, pushing and pulling to move away from the ghost.

Jack: ‘surely he knows....right?’.

Maddie: ‘it’s green and glowing’.

Danny jerks, wincing as his ectoplasm seems to spasm and splash against his vein walls, “OW, what the fuck?”.

Maddie: *mentally cringing* ‘sorry sweetie. It’s just, that’s a ghost’.

Danny waves off Cujo’s worried head tilt, “I’m okay. Body’s just being weird. No need to worry bud”, standing up and shaking himself off, “now let’s see about fetching your ball”, Danny hops up the stairs and digs around in his room. Tossing up a glowing green tennis ball, and chuckling as Cujo flings himself through the air to nab it.

Jack: ‘he definitely knows that’s a ghost. So why?’.

Maddie: ‘I don’t know, I just don’t get it. I want to make him stop, getaway. But...’.

Jack: ‘we can’t control him. We shouldn’t Mads’.

Maddie: ‘but...’.

Jack: ‘I know. But who knows what moving his ectoplasm around could do? And, and it’s Danny-boys life’.

Maddie: *sighs* ‘the thing’s probably tricking him. But I guess, sometimes we have to learn lessons the hard way’.

Danny smirks as Cujo leaps out of the window. Danny quickly rushing over and sticking his head out, looking down with a soft smile at the cute little head tilt Cujo’s doing. Chuckling, “ah a boy and his dog. Never been so damn ghostly. But hey, that works well for me”. Danny flings himself out the window and lands on the ground in a crouch, springing to stand upright quickly.

Maddie & Jack: !!!

Danny smirks down at the Cujo, “race ya? On foot though, body’s being weird”.

Cujo spits the ball at him which he easily catches as Cujo bolts off. Danny chuckles and shakes his head. Smiling wide as he gives chase, jumping over obstacles and occasionally sliding across the ground. Eventually springing past Cujo, turning his head to smirk at the puppy; who yaps back. As they make it to the park.

Jack: ‘I didn’t know Danny-boy was so athletic! Well, it’s a great skill for any future hunter!’.

Maddie: ‘......he never seems it’.

Danny throws around the ball with Cujo for a while, occasionally throwing it with some ghostly strength or jumping abnormally high to catch the balls Cujo spits back out at him. Both eventually tire of it and just lay in the grass. Danny absent-mindedly petting over the glowing fur. Watching the sky, “you know buddy, I think if you weren’t a ghost my folks would love you. Personally though, ghosts dogs better”, sighing, “is it odd that I’m on better and more friendly terms with ghosts than humans? I mean sure, Skulker shot me with arrows again and I might have punched him a few times more than necessary. But ain’t that half the joy? Sparing?-”.

Maddie: ‘WHAT!!!’.

Jack: ‘Skulker, whoever they are, is getting decked’.

“-And I mean really? There is something really satisfying in winning a tough fight. Plus, covered in my own blood, ‘plasm, and other assorted viscera, is a winning look for me. And at least Skulker, right, guy makes stellar lemon Creme pie. And humans, oof, how many of them consistently treat me well? Very goddamn few”.

Jack: ‘who’s treating him meanly? Bullies?’.

Maddie: ‘must be, school can be a hard time. I’m more worried about how he seems to like get injured....he doesn’t get hurt that much does he?’.

Jack: ‘he limps sometimes. What about his clothing? Any...blood, on them?’.

Maddie: ‘....I...haven’t done his laundry in years’.

Danny sits up with Cujo rolling around in his lap. Scratching the dog’s belly, “so fuck it. So what? Who cares... well besides my folks”, groaning, “do they have to be so bigoted and anti-ghost? And I kind of think that they’re trying to impress me with all the ghost hunter stuff”, shrugging, “which yeah, makes sense right? Not like Jazz is going to run FentonWorks in between all her schooling. And it’s not like they know anything about what I do with my time”.

Jack: ‘doesn’t get just hang out with his friends all day? Video games, going out to eat, that stuff?’.

Maddie: ‘we never actually ask. But that’s what I thought. Does he, does he really dislike how we are about ghosts? It’s not just some teenage rebellion?’.

Jack: ‘maybe we’ve been protecting him too much from the evil and harm they do?’.

Danny gets up and stretches. Cujo running in a little circle and yapping before just running off. Danny chuckles, “never much of one for my verbal bullshit huh?”, rubbing at his chest and sighing before checking the time on his phone. “Well I guess I should probably let my ‘plasm flow more normally”, prodding his chest again, “wound should be closed enough so that I won’t bleed any ‘plasm”, pushing a bit hard and wincing, “ahhh okay that’s still cracked. Damn”, before rolling his shoulders and letting his ectoplasm flow more normally through his chest. -both parents involuntarily jerking Danny’s ectoplasm from just how much pain is in Danny’s chest-

Danny shakes off the weird pulse or whatever, putting his hands in his pockets and starting to walk only to pause and tilt his head, “okaaaaay? This don’t feel right. It shouldn’t be this heavy?”, groaning and tilting his head, “wonderful, that whatever the fuck messed with my ‘plasm”. Danny turns on his heels and starts off home, grumbling, “probably should stick to the ground then. Don’t exactly feel like face-planting into cement today”, chuckling and shaking his head as he pulls out his phone to look over the photos.

Maddie: ‘what’s wrong with his chest? Why does so much hurt and what’s this cold ball?’.

Jack: ‘I...I don’t know Mads’ he tries to gently move around the ball, picking up that more ectoplasm seems to be being formed by it. ‘It, is this why Danny never seems to get less contaminated?’.

Maddie: ‘this, that, shouldn’t be possible’ poking at the ball and squeezing it a little.

Danny shivers slightly and looks down his shirt collar, quirking an eyebrow, “oh goddamnit, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve used you”, groaning and turning onto the street, “don’t tell me my Core’s also being messed with? I’d really rather not freeze over...again”. -at that the two make a damn point to leave the cold ball alone- Danny weaving through crowds while looking at his phone again. Easily able to sense where people are and how close they are due to his ecto-field.

Jack: ‘Danny’s got a core? Ghost core? How? And wow, he’s really good at navigating!’.

Maddie: ‘the shape, location, it makes sense. But it shouldn’t be possible-‘ she cuts herself off at feeling a chill go through Danny’s body again. This time clear it originated from the core.

Danny looks around and squints, quickly and smoothly navigating into an alleyway and waiting. Picking up that whoever is clearly following him.

Maddie: feeling the ectoplasm their possessing vibrate and grow staticy ‘what the?’, trying to make it stop.

Jack: ‘can, can Danny-boy control his ectoplasm you think?’.

Danny scrunches up his face and glances down at his, not invisible, hand. Growling at it, “oh come on. Now’s not the time body”. -both parents jerk, making Danny’s ectoplasm slosh, from the vibrating static returning and Danny’s hand becoming invisible- Dannh shake his head, “annoying”, before squinting at the alleyway opening.

Jack: ‘HE HAS POWERS?!?!??????’.

Maddie: ‘this, what, it shouldn’t, this makes no sense’ trying to return the ectoplasm to normal because this is just wrong.

Danny hisses, “for fucks sake”, and forcing his invisibility to reactivate. Then stilling and stopping his breathing as one of Vlad’s stupid vultures flies in and looks around. Danny rolls his eyes and slinks silently over to it.

Maddie: ‘Danny! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?! YOU DONT HAVE WEAPONS!’.

Jack: forcibly stopping Maddie from moving the ectoplasm their sharing, ‘Mads don’t! He’ll be in more danger if we mess with him!’.

Danny pointedly ignores the strange feelings going on in his body, slowly moving his hands out before grinning wickedly. Grabbing the birds throat and blasting it in the face with a green beam, chuckling darkly, “boo. I have no time for you today”.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!

The bird squawks, startled as Danny hits it over the head with his thermos. Promptly sucking it in after a second. Danny smiles at the thermos and shakes it, “frootloops vultures are always so damn stupid”. Danny looks around quickly before jumping and scaling up the building. -the parents both confused and disoriented- Danny crouches on the rooftop and looks around.

Jack: ‘oh, oh my Zone. Danny’s vision, he can see so far!’.

Both make a point not to try moving as they feel themselves/ectoplasm tingling and sparking in Danny’s eyes.

Maddie & Jack: !!!! ‘How?’.

Maddie: ‘it, the town looks beautiful like this. The colours, they’re so...intense? Defined? Glowy?’.

Jack: ‘so many details and his eyes, they seem to focus on anything possibly threatening’.

-Both them jerk and slosh Danny’s ectoplasm- Danny leaps off the roof and rolls to land on another. Booking it off after spotting the two other vultures. Stopping and sticking his invisible head over the edge of one building to stare down at the two birds.

Jack: ‘he’s hunting them? That’s great! But he seems to really know what he’s doing? Why wouldn’t he tell us he’s doing this? We could help?’.

Maddie: ‘......maybe...maybe he doesn’t want our help Jack dear’.

Danny flips and drops down on the two vultures, quickly pinning them with his feet and punching them in the face. Spinning the thermos around and sucking them in. Standing upright and nonchalantly walking back out onto the street, visible again.

Jack: ‘because we don’t like ghosts? Like he was saying earlier?’.

Maddie: ‘I think so. But why? They should be disliked’.

Danny’s phone goes off, so he digs it out of his pocket and looks down at it. Chuckling at Tucker’s face before picking up the call, “what’s up Tuck?”.

“I’m bored that’s what”.

Danny shakes his head, “well then I've got no excuse to not bounce my ghost weirdness off you”.

“Goddamnit, I was hoping for a movie or some shit. What’s going straight strange in ghost ville?”.

Danny flips over his hand a few times as he avoids being touched by people on the street, “my ‘plasm’s being weird. Feels heavy, is randomly turning off my abilities, and it feels like I’m startling it. Which is a mind trip and a half”.

“Well maybe it’s gained sentience? That’s exactly the kind of weird that would happen to you”.

“Tuck, that honestly would be impressive but also really horrible. Just how weird do you think I am?!?”.

“Dude, you got turned into jello once”.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!

“At least that had an understandable and obvious reason? I’m pretty sure a little electrical shock shouldn’t create sentience”.

“Well why don’t you ask it?”.

“You just want me to make a fool of m-”, -the two, seizing the opportunity, make a point to slosh and run themselves/Danny’s ectoplasm around and through his veins- Danny pauses, blinking, “oh Ancients. Fuck you Tuck”.

Laughter, “am I a good guess or what?”.

Danny looks down at himself and promptly walks into an alleyway. Making a point to hold his hand over his phone's mic. Grumbling, “why me?”, clearing his throat, “okay then. Ectoplasm? Just, like, fuck this is weird, slosh around in my left foot?”. -the two do as asked-

Maddie: ‘Jack dear, you are so lucky Danny has strange friends’.

Jack: ‘I’m grounded from blueprints aren’t I?’.

Maddie: ‘understatement’.

Danny tilts his head back, “oh Ancients. It had to be that invention”, Danny rubs his face and mutters into his hand, “well I’m not about to undo or, I guess, kill sentience. So I guess this is just my life now”.

Maddie: ‘right, of course. He wouldn’t know it’s us instead of some random new sentience’.

Danny scratches his head and puts the phone back to his ear, “I hate you. I don’t even understand how my folks could make something that could create sentience”.

“Dude, impossible is kind of come by for your halfa ass”.

Jack: ‘halfa? Is that slang?’ Deciding to try something out, he wiggles.

Danny tilts his head at the pulsing feeling and facepalms, “I mean you’re not wrong but still. Also, I’m pretty sure I just got asked what halfa is or something”.

“Congrats dude, your ectoplasm is a child you’re stuck mentoring now, CW would be so proud. Hey Danny’s ectoplasm, vibrate Danny’s eyes if you don’t know what a halfa is”.

“What? No! Don’t do-”, Danny covers up his eyes, feeling them vibrating and zapping, -the two easily able to see green light reflecting off of Danny’s hand-, “screw you Tuck. Now you absolutely are helping figure out how this invention works. Yes I’ve got blueprints. Ancients you’re a dick, I’m in public dude”.

Chucking, “no one ever notices your shit dude. Chill. But yeah I’ll help. Does your ‘plasm know who CW is, just out of curiosity?”.

Danny sighs, holds the phone away, “well? Just do the leg sloshing if you don’t”. -the two, feeling even more confused, do as they’re asked- Danny sighs and puts the phone back to his ear, “nope. So obviously it doesn’t have my memories or access to my brain. Which is weird, cause my ‘plasm is everywhere in me”.

“Danny buddy, just cause it’s flowing around your squishy thought organ doesn’t imply it can actually read your thoughts or memories. So when you coming by?”.

“Right now you salted fuck. The weirder thing is, it seems to be getting startled by me using abilities. It turned off my invisibility twice”.

“So what? It thinks you shouldn’t be able to do ghost shit? That seems pretty backwards dude”.

“Exactly so-” -the two slosh around in his leg again, hopping the question gets across- Danny sighs, “okay, yes it’s confused by the abilities”.

Laughter, “well then, have fun playing a game of twenty questions with something that can’t actually speak to you. I’ll see you in however long. But on a serious note, Danny’s ectoplasm? Yeah don’t block or stop the dudes powers. The guy would be an utter mess without them”.

“Hey! I mean, fine, I would be. But I’m more concerned about my, apparently sentient now, ‘plasm acting up while I’m fighting”.

“Then get it familiar with you using your shit. And shit dude, you should probably be a glow bug so it knows what that feels like. Cause you losing your form in a fight would be worst-case scenario. Plus, that has to feel really strange”.

Jack: ‘form? Glow bug? This is all so confusing’.

Maddie: ‘seems kind of...invasive too. He doesn’t realise it’s us’.

Jack: *sighing* ‘yeah, I’d rather Danny-boy tell us things intentionally. Trusting us’.

Maddie: ‘but he’s so secretive? It’s clear his contamination does so much more to him than we thought’.

Danny sighs, “yeah, but I’m a paranoid bastard. So I think I’ll break the ice slowly, clearly it has access to my senses so I’m just not gonna look at myself. Fuck this is weird. See you soon you prick”, snapping the phone shut and looking around the alleyway. Sighing, “alright ‘plasm. I’m gonna be doing something with you, well more so my Core ‘plasm but still, somethin’ I do a lot so just roll with it ya?”.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!! Having to try very hard to not do anything or try to hinder, feeling the core vibrate and pulse before cold energy shoots out and over Danny. Seeing the very bright light pass over his eyes. As all the regular ectoplasm/them starts vibrating and flowing more readily and closer to the surface. Feeling Danny’s feet leave the ground. !!!!!!!

Danny rubs his neck, feeling sloshing in his leg again, while he slowly floats up. “I mean, you were warned? And you’ll have to excuse me not being forthcoming with information until I know more about you. If the wrong people find out about somethings I keep to myself, it would put me or my family in a lot of danger”.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!!

Maddie: ‘we should be looking out for you, not the other way around!’.

Jack: ‘danger from ghosts? Or humans? We can defend ourselves well. I don’t want Danny-boy worrying about us...’. Moving around in slow circles in Danny’s back.

Danny blinks as he floats above a rooftop, tilting his head and laughing, “are you, are you trying to rub my back?”, shaking his head, “okay obviously you have some knowledge of things”. Shaking his head and kicking off from the roof. Floating up through clouds and looking down on Amity. “So this town yeah? My home”.

Maddie: ‘we...Danny....is flying. HOW?’

Jack: ‘it’s, really wonderful. Everything’s so small!’.

Maddie: ‘but how?!?? This isn’t normal Jack?’.

Jack: ‘it’s not hurting his body, he’s having fun, I think, Mads. And it’s nice. Weird’s a Fenton’s normal. Danny-boy is just really weird I guess. It must be because of whatever he did to make his ectoplasm, us, closure to his surface and all vibratie’.

Maddie: ‘he shot an ecto-beam earlier. Invisibility. Jack he has ghost powers, many. He’s not a ghost, this doesn’t make sense’. Making them slosh in Danny’s leg.

Jack: ‘Mads...’.

Danny shakes his head with a sigh and dives down, twisting and turning, still invisible, through the alleyways, speaking quiet -the two are past their shock enough to hear how his voice echos, like a ghosts-, “so flying’s a weird thing to you. Okay. Slosh around again of that’s because you think I shouldn’t be able to do this”, Danny squints his eyes -the two sloshing around in his leg- Danny nods, “okay then. Is....is that because it’s something a ghost can do? Slosh for yes by the way”.

Jack: ‘this is an annoying way to communicate’ sloshing around as asked.

Maddie: ‘at least we can. But this is still so wrong. He’s clearly good at this....comfortable with it’.

Jack: ‘I’m more bothered he hid it honey. Probably because of how we feel about ghosts. Mads, I think he doesn’t want us to dislike this. Whatever it is. So he just didn’t tell us because...’.

Maddie: ‘because he’s afraid. Oh sweetie, sorry. I, okay, no matter how wrong, I don’t want him feeling we dislike something about him’.

Jack: ‘it still feels wrong finding out like this. Not earning his trust. But it is fun. I can see why he likes it’.

Danny nods, “alright. Hmmmmm. So then I should only be able to do what a human can?’. -the two slosh again, a bit aggressively actually- Danny twitches and snorts, rolls his eyes, “now since I know you’re not in my mind so to speak. What’s my name? Slosh at the right letter. A, B, C, D-”, Danny smirks at the sloshing, “okay, last name then. A, B, C, D, E, F-”, Danny nods at the sloshing. “Okay, you know who I am then. So you are not just randomly spawned sentience then?”.

Jack: ‘that’s my boy!’ Sloshing and jerking around a bit more excitedly than necessary.

Danny jerks in the air, “okay, first off, ow. That’s my veins and shit you are running around in you know. Second off, do you actually want to be in my body? Slosh for yes, don’t do anything for no”. -the two make a damn point of not moving- Danny sighs happily, “oh Ancients thank fuck. No offence or anything, but I’d rather not have another random person in me. Especially controlling part of me. I’ll see if I actually decide to believe you though”, Danny grins, seeing Tucker’s house, promptly flying inside.

Tucker waves at Danny -the two parents jerk, caught off guard by the light flashing over Danny’s eyes again and feeling themselves/Danny’s ectoplasm sink deeper- Danny holds up a hand, “before you say anything. It seems this is not random sentience, but at least one actual person. They’re not being a dick so clearly they are a Fan of me but I don’t cook in Frying Pans with them”.

Maddie: ‘? You cook with us? What does cooking have to do with anything?’.

Jack: ‘we’re definitely fans though’.

Tucker groans, “well that’s more complicated. Blueprints”.

Danny tosses his phone over and flops to lay down in a beanie-bag chair, “tell me about it. They claim they either want out or this was an accident. But well, people lie, no offence whoever you are”.

Tucker snorts, “well at least you can communicate to some degree”, pointing at Danny, “also this sounds like your ‘plasm is being overshadowed”.

“Pretty sure not even ghosts can do that and I’m sure that whoever is human”, twitching his leg slightly at the sloshing, “okay yes, human. Which makes less sense than if it was some really weird ghost”.

Jack: *laughing* ‘yes ghosts can do some strange things!’.

Maddie: ‘which you seem to be able to do too. But...you’re not a ghost so...I guess it’s sort of okay’.

Jack: *chuckling slightly* ‘he still can’t hear us’.

Maddie: ‘he’s going to figure out it’s us in here. We’re going to have to talk about this...what he can do. Not to mention all the pain his bodies in. We shouldn’t get our words wrong...I, I don’t want to upset him’.

Jack: ‘....yeah. He didn’t choose to tell us, show us, this. Least we can do is not bug him about it. Though I am super curious! How’d he get these abilities? Learn to use them?!?’.

Maddie: ‘don’t bombard the boy with questions Jack dear’.

Danny shakes his head, watching Tucker flip the phone around and zooming in on the screen randomly, “Danny dude, have you even looked at any of this yet?”.

Danny shakes his head, “naw, Cujo showed. Puppy gets what puppy wants. That whoever wasn’t to pleased about me getting close to the green glowing dog”.

Tucker looks up from the screen, looks to the side and pulls a face, before looking at Danny, “so let me get this straight. You got zapped, cause that’s definitely what this does, by your folks invention. Now you’ve got someone overshadowing your ‘plasm who is seemingly confused over the abilities and seemingly doesn’t like ghost”.

Danny raises an eyebrow, “yup. Sounds about right”.

“Danny, you’re a fucking idiot. Have you seen you’re folks today?”.

“This morning up, but not since after dinner”, Danny screws up his fave and goes wide-eyed, “oh fu-”, only to get cut off by something impacting the wall and blowing up.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!!! ‘DANNY!!!!’.

Danny quickly transforms and grabs Tucker, turning them both intangible and flying out. Depositing Tucker on the roof. Both look over the ledge, Danny grumbling, “Ancients shit, Walker. Damn”.

Jack: ‘who? What’s going on? Why’d that ghost attack Tucker’s room?’

Maddie: ‘I think he knows a lot of ghosts we don’t. I wish we could help’

Jack: ‘do you think he’s been using these powers to fight ghosts? That that’s an enemy of his? That’s what I’d do if I could fly and shoot lasers’

Maddie: ‘I sure hope not! That’s so dangerous! With us is one thing but clearly he doesn’t hunt with us’

Tucker grabs Danny’s shoulders and spins him to face him, pointing at Danny’s face, “before you go off”, gesturing at the rest of Danny’s body, “you, probably, two. Let him do his shit, he’s good at it”, pointing at Danny’s face, “fuck your life dude”.

Danny glares, “know that I am pushing off my mental freak out. Watch out for his goons”.

Danny jumps off the roof, invisible, and glides around slowly, watching Walker pick through Tucker’s room with a frown. Whispering with a bit of bite, which is a bit threatening with the echoing voice, “no controlling my ‘plasm. Talk later”.

Danny listens as Walker huffs, annoyed, “the little punks not here”, turning to two of his goons, “I thought the tracker said his signature was here”. One goon shrugs before all four freeze at the sound of Tucker’s parents coming home. Walker grins, “well all the same. It seems we have good bait”.

Danny clenches his fists and bares his fangs in a soundless snarl. Promptly lunging at Walker and uppercutting him, blasting ectoballs at the two goons, sending them flying.

Maddie: ‘were those fangs? And- LOOK OUT!’ She really has to try not to interfere as the ghosts start blasting at him.

Danny shoots up through the roof, avoid one of the goons strange blasts. Quickly getting punched in the gut by Walker. Danny just growls and kicks his stomach, blasting him in the face. Smirking for only a second as he catches Tucker capturing one of the goons out of the corner of his eye. -the two parents actively cheering over that- Danny spins and ducks, avoiding a pink ecto-beam. Snickering, “you’ve always been a bad shot whitey!”. Flipping around and making a shield as Walker teleports behind him and tries to blast him again.

Jack: ‘he’s really good at this! You kick his butt son!’.

Maddie: ‘he shouldn’t be...but I guess it’s good’.

Danny slams his feet on Walker’s chest, making the two slam onto a rooftop. Danny blasts him in the chest a few times and grins a fair bit maliciously, grabbing Walkers collar, growling, “you don’t come after my friends family”, and punches him in the face. Grabbing his arm and flinging him into a building.

Walker grunts and stands, pushing away bits of brick with his hands, glaring at the floating Danny, “if you would just stay in a cell where you belong half creature, they’d be left alone”, shrugging with a cruel grin, “maybe”. Before blasting another beam at Danny. Which he avoids easily. But apparently that pisses Walker off, as he changes sizes into a more massive form. Danny just flips around his thermos with a cocky grin.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!!!!!!!

Danny expertly avoids Walker’s grabbing hands and spins through the air, firing off blasts, “big target! More areas to hit!”. Flying down, away from more pink ecto-beams. -the two, startled and worried, try yanking Danny down to avoid a car that was thrown- Danny jerking, snapping as his flight just cuts out for a few seconds. Car sailing over him only to get hit by something that binds around his chest and arms, pinning them and yanking him towards the ground. Danny gritting out, “that was not helpful. Getting hit by the car was preferred. The goal actually”. -the two a little freaked and struggle a little as they find they can’t really move-

Danny hits the ground hard. Coughing and sputtering but rolling across the ground to hide in an alleyway.

Maddie & Jack: !!!!!!!!!!!! DANNY!!

Maddie: ‘s-sorry. Sorry sweetie. Ow. Be alright Danny. What is this? This feels awful’.

Jack: ‘son....’.

Danny pushes himself up the wall, going against the heavy gravity of the thing tight around him. “Okay, how to get this stupid thing off”, Danny manoeuvres around to try using a dumpster to get something out of his pocket. It’s obvious he’s making a point of not looking at himself. Smiling and grabbing what feels like a tube of lipstick before sucking and rolling through the open door of a building. Falling down the stairs and breaking his nose in the process. -which the two freak out a bit over- Danny chuckles, “well at least something broke my fall”, before adjusting the lipstick blaster to shoot off the bindings. Flexing his left hand and wincing slightly, “fantastic. More broken bones”, before flying through the roof as Walker goes to kick in the building.

Tucker’s shouting, “got the other one!”. Danny only chuckles as a response, before shooting at Walker again. Catching him off guard enough to slam his across the cheek with the thermos. Growling and punching him with his left hand, “stay out of my town”, then sucking him into the thermos.

Danny stands and pants a little, Tucker running up, “dude, why the Zone did you fly into the capture blast? You haven’t done that in years”.

Danny flips him off as he picks up Tucker and flies them back to his place. Both frowning at the destroyed mess.

Dropping Tucker on the ground and doing the light ring thing again. Tucker points at him, “hand, gimme gimme”.

Danny rolls his eyes as they sit on Tucker’s, thankfully intact, bed. “That wasn’t me Tuck. It’s fine though. Everything worked out”.

“Dude, there's blood and ‘plasm all over your face”.

Danny chuckles and grabs one of the towels, cleaning his face off but winces as he whacks his nose, “right forgot about that”. Tucker works on setting Danny’s hand bones as Danny sets his nose with practiced ease.

Maddie: ‘I, Danny what? You forgot?!? This, you’re too good at it. Danny...’.

Jack: ‘Tucker’s, he’s good at this too. We don’t even get hurt like this’.

Maddie: ‘we don’t fight like that. We hunt. That wasn’t hunting. It was a fistfight. A ghostly fistfight. And now he’s hurt’.

Danny sighs as he holds his nose, “so um, slosh if you're my folks. Could really use knowing that”.

Tucker raises an eyebrow, “slosh? Really?”.

“Oh fuck you”, nodding at the sloshing feeling before looking to Tucker, “yeah, it’s my folks and I’m a moron for not realising that sooner”.

Tucker chuckles as he wraps Danny’s hand, “a lovable moron who’s going to have one Hell of a conversation after we, or more specifically I, fix this”.

Danny just grunts with a frown.

Maddie: ‘he’s all broken and that’s what he cares about?’

Jack: ‘he must really be worried what we think then’

Maddie: ‘I think...that he gets hurt like this a lot. But how have we never noticed it?’ Sloshing and swirling around near his hand and nose.

Danny screws up his face, “okay that feels very weird. But don’t worry, I heal pretty, um, fast. And yes I get hurt kinda often, um sorry for not telling you?”.

Jack: ‘fast enough that we never even notice? Must be because of the ectoplasm’.

Maddie: ‘at this point, I think everything is affected by his ectoplasm. I don’t like it. But if, if he’s okay like this, I’ll deal. We’ll deal’.

Tucker snorts and starts laughing, shaking his head at Danny, “dude, maybe save the awkward conversation for when they’re not stuck in you, or where I have to suffer through it for that matter. Also, cats outta the bag so please fix my damn wall”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “pushy pushy. I thought you liked watching people squirm?”. Tucker chuckles, “not you, not like that. You’re supposed to be the tough one. You’ve earned the privacy”.

Danny blinks, “don’t go getting all deep on me”, before turning his head towards the gaping hole and flicking his hand. -the two mental gaping and trying not to react as they feel themselves/Danny’s ectoplasm feel like it’s stretching and bending. Only for bits of the wall and destroyed objects to start glowing and floating back to where they were. Seemingly healing as well. Both easily able to feel Danny’s ectoplasm was a bit depleted now and feeling tired-

Jack: ‘I feel like I need a nap’.

Maddie: ‘that must have used up a fair bit of ectoenergy. Telekinesis’.

Jack: ‘wonder just how much he can do! Mmmmm, hungry too’.

Maddie: ‘you’re always hungry dear’.

Jack: ‘think it’s his ectoplasm actually’.

Maddie: ‘....you’re....right? I’m hungry too. Ectoplasm gets hungry?’.

Danny looks over Tucker’s work before flopping to lay down, grumbling, “you know, I’m always reminded how glad I am that your rooms all ectoplasmicly rich”.

Tucker snorts, “yours is worse. Now nap you idiot. I highly doubt your folks will do anything weird. While I slave away like an overworked carriage horse”.

Danny flips him off but falls asleep anyway. -the two able to tell that he seems to be absorbing in ectoplasm, core processing it and replenishing his own ectoplasm-

Jack: *chuckles* ‘close enough to eating I guess! Slimy yet satisfying!’.

Maddie: *laughing slightly* ‘well let’s not run around much. Let him sleep, and let us, his ectoplasm, replenish’.

Tucker shakes his head at Danny and continues fiddling away, “now I highly doubt ectoplasm can sleep. Would be pretty strange if it did. And Danny would give me s-hassle for being protective”, Tucker pokes where he knows Danny’s ecto-field is around his foot, “Danny’s better for his weird. And you guys accepting him is kind of a big deal to him. I know you’ve seen some weird and confusing sh-stuff. Probably doesn’t make much sense and you’ve probably made your own theories. But if you think Danny needs to be ‘corrected’, just don’t. Drop it. That’s pretty well the worst thing you could do to him outside of trying to dissect him or something-”

Maddie: ‘WHAT!?! We would never!’

Jack: ‘he’s really attached then.... Glad he’s adjusted so well! If he doesn’t want it fixed then of course we won't’.

Maddie: ‘.....even if it’s still rather wrong’.

“-similar. His abilities are part of who he is. So if you hurt him by rejecting or trying to change him, I will never forgive you. Danny-dudes basically my brother. He’s saved my life and everyone’s lives more times than I’m sure I even know. He deserves to be treated right”. Tucker watches as Danny’s foot turns invisible. Snorting, “look at you, figuring out how he works. I’m assuming that’s you agreeing with me? Just do it again if so”. -the two promptly do. Even if it’s weird vibrating themselves- Tucker nods, “good. This is a pretty sh-stupid way for you guys to find out. And know that he would have told you on his own eventually. Someday. He wanted you to stop being so universally hateful to ghosts first”, getting up and grabbing a few extra screws, speaking as he sorts through all the different kinds for the right ones, “seeing as his pup showed, obviously you know he doesn’t hate ghosts. That he’s friendly with some. Well Danny probably won’t appreciate me saying this but I damn well am. He is friendly with a lot of ghosts. More ghosts than there are people in Amity. He will never accept or tolerate your hate for ghosts. So grow up and realise when you might be wrong, cause you don’t know shit”.

Maddie: ‘I didn’t realise he disliked how we were? are? so much. And he’s, he’s friendly with that many?’.

Jack: ‘I’m glad he meant to tell us. And Mads, Danny-boy’s good, he would never be friendly with cruel creatures. So what does that mean?’.

Maddie: ‘I’d like to say he’s being tricked, but....that many? He’s not that gullible. No one is’.

Jack: ‘so what then? I’m sure our science isn’t wrong’.

Maddie: ‘I don’t know Jack’.

Jack: ‘well maybe the animal ones can be okay easier? Like the puppy?’.

Maddie: ‘I’m pretty sure Tucker means more than just animal ghosts’.

Tucker smirks at the machine and grabs Danny’s foot, shaking it violently before springing away. Danny nearly grabbing him and snarling. -startling the two parents and making them a bit confused- Danny blinks before smirking at Tucker, “you’re getting quick. What is it?”.

Jack: ‘wow those are some reflexes!’.

Maddie: ‘he’s like a feral animal.....He’s that paranoid and on guard?’.

Jack: ‘with ghosts that’s good!’.

Tucker shakes his head, “you are such a nightmare to wake up but it’s great dodging practice”, lifting up the device, “just need another part from your folks lab then we’re good. Got a reverse switch already installed”.

Danny nods and gets up, clapping Tucker on the shoulder, “nice. You’re going to make some tech or engineering company very very rich”.

Tucker huffs, “excuses you? I’ll be running it and making myself very very rich. Though you know I’ll always be your technician. Now let’s get your folks out of you”.

“That sounds really messed up Tuck”, Danny wraps an arm around Tucker and flies them off to his house.

They phase through the lab ceiling and land on the lab floor.

Maddie: ‘I think he can do everything a ghost can at this point’.

Jack: ‘which is kind of cool. At least a little. I could see inside our floorboards!’.

Danny stretches and yawns some, “so whatcha need?”.

Tucker digs in a draw and fetches a weird glowing blue tube, an ectoplasm spinner, “this”.

“How, no seriously, how do you always no where everything is down here? Uh, no offence guys, it’s kind of a mess”.

Jack: ‘the sign of being put to good use! No worries Danny-boy!’

Tucker chuckles, “little easy to forget you've got tag alongs?”, Danny nods as Tucker puts the final pieces together and points it at Danny, “this is probably gonna hurt by the way”.

Danny just shrugs, “expected”, before Tucker zaps him and he promptly passes out.

This time Danny wakes up first, seeing Tucker’s face inches from his and nearly punches him in the face, “fucking Zone Tuck”.

Tucker shakes himself slightly, “dude, you weren’t just snapping awake. It was weird. But also kinda cool”. Danny flips him off before both of them look to the still unconscious parents. Jack groaning. Tucker finger guns at Danny, “and that’s my queue to leave”. Danny just rolls his eyes and sits in a chair, waiting for the pair to wake up fully as Tucker bounds up the stairs.

Maddie staggers up, slightly startled by Danny just suddenly being there to help steady her, him asking, “you good? Er, physically anyway?”.

Maddie nods as Danny helps Jack up, Danny coming to stand in front of them. Still short as ever and a fair bit wide-eyed. Danny rubs his neck, “soooooo, my body huh? Interesting place”.

Jack and Maddie Exchange a glance and promptly hug Danny, which they feel kind of bad over how he had tensed up, before relaxing and hugging back.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #ectober #ectoberweek19 #possession #blood and injury #broken bones #body sharing #danny fenton #jack fenton #Maddie Fenton #Tucker Foley #fanfic #phanphic #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #My writing

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