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maxwell-grant · 2 years

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So, thoughts on Better Call Saul last season ?

....................................................................................

..............Okay, so

I'm still not having an easy time dealing with the fact that this show is over. I started watching Breaking Bad with my mom circa 2013, right as the 5th season was ending, and soon afterwards we'd started watching Better Call Saul together when it first began airing in 2014. I quite literally grew up with this show from adolescence to adulthood, it just always being there, something me and her would look up to every year or so. There's really nothing else out there that's comparable to this, in terms of my experience with it.

My first school assignment with video (pretty much the first time I ever filmed a project of any kind) was me doing a parody of that "That's why I fight for you Albuquerque!" commercial, and that was way before Better Call Saul began airing. This character's just been a part of my life for so long, I moved through homes 4 times and even then, there was always looking forward to watching Better Call Saul on the couch with her with every year or so. It was just always there, and it never felt like it was gonna leave.

I know I'm being dramatic but, man, it really feels like the end of an era to me, because it is. Just, 9, almost 10 years, coming to an end.

I guess I don't have as much to say now as I did last post considering I've been reblogging BCS posts and dropping thoughts in the notes but, here goes:

Oh man was I scared when Lalo Salamanca crashed through the laundromat's rooftop, killed Gus and proceeded to take over Los Pollos Hermanos as well as the franchise with his own vlogging spin-off. I was a little unsure that Lalo could carry his own show but, Tony Dalton really made it work, and Cocina de Lalo really sweeped the Emmies this year so, can't argue with results, y'know. I know the fanbase was kinda mixed on the Hamlin & Salamanca Graveyard Smash episode but it definitely felt like a major step-up as far as LGBT representation in this universe.

Anyway, rest in piece king. Besides getting a ghost boyfriend, you ended up ruining like 4 relationships and causing your lawyer to go off the deep end so badly he ended up creating the world's most pathetic monster that would eventually bring down Gus for good so, congrats Lalo Salamanca for winning the cartel war purely by dicking around.

I'm glad that Giancarlo won that TV Icon award apparently based almost entirely on his performance in that wine bar scene because, Jesus, talk about an all-timer way for us to say goodbye to Gus. I'm glad that they never showed Gus again, that was the perfect note for the character to leave us forever on. Again, victory has to be bittersweet, and he has to get the choice to walk away from this, only he doesn't really get a choice.

Giancarlo's ability to wordlessly convey volumes of inner turmoil was so good, I love so much about Gus' presentation and how non-verbal it is in the moments where it matters most. Also love that they somehow worked in a way for Gus and Lalo to Villain Monologue at each other prior, 10/10.

I kinda missed Jonathan Banks this season, but Mike was such a fixture in the early seasons of the show (and back then, the only part that interested me, I was a little too young and restless to stay awake for much of the lawyer business in Seasons 1-3) that, I get why he had to take a backseat. Dearly loved all of the Mike scenes in this season as well. Also, still miss Michael Mando, and if anything is gonna get me to rewatch this show (and it's far from just one thing), it's gonna be getting to see Michael Mando as Nacho again and really appreciate the character and all he brought to it.

I wasn't actually looking forward that much to seeing Walt and Jesse again because I was kinda afraid that, with BCS already kind of being seen as living in Breaking Bad's shadow, that it was gonna be this whole thing and, honestly I was fine with them not showing up at all. I thought the RV scene was neat and didn't think much besides that.

But then that Kim &Jesse scene happened and suddenly I remembered that, oh yeah, I fucking love Jesse Pinkman and he's one of my favorite characters ever, and here he is interacting with another of my favorite characters ever, and oh God Aaron Paul's doing such an amazing job at playing S1 goofball Jesse, this can't be easy, and oh this scene is so incredibly meaningful and of course they're gonna have Jesse Pinkman deliver bullshit monologues about Baby Jesus and his idiot friends while completely unaware of the massive weight of the narrative ready to pounce on him from behind, and of course it's Kim who has to pass the torch to him.

I was of the opinion that El Camino wasn't really something that had to exist but, nobody in their right minds would complain about getting another hour plus of Aaron Paul as Jesse Pinkman, completely on his own, getting to claw for a set-in-stone freedom one last time. That said, I deeply love this being the last we ever get to see of Jesse Pinkman. This kind of fleeting glimpse into what he was, what we first knew him as, his innocence and humor here heavy with the weight of everything that's going to happen to him.

Crushing but strangely liberating at once, to see Jesse like this and to know for sure that, at the very end, away from his parents and Saul Goodman and Walter White and those fucking nazis, he will finally find his freedom and walk away with the closest this universe can give you in regards to a happy ending, just as Kim did.

(By Breaking Bad Irony)

And on the OTHER hand, I deeply loved that Walter White's final scene was a microcosm not just of the fly episode (which in itself was a deeply significant microcosm of the show), but also of his entire character and role in Saul Goodman's life. He shows up, makes mountains out of molehills, desperately tries to fix problems while making them infinitely worse, acts like a pedantic arrogant jackass the entire time, complains about his chronic inability to make decent life choices, and then just casually devastates the only person around him he can still bully, before leaving others to deal with the noise.

I love that, compared to his guns-blazing semi-redemption at the end of Breaking Bad and the bittersweet flashback at El Camino, to Better Call Saul, there is nothing redeemable about Walter and his lifetime of regrets, there is only the fallout of all he destroyed. In the end, Saul Goodman's big shot was just Worse Chuck, and nobody has anything but contempt for his name here. Rest in shit Heisenberg, nobody even dignifies you with your cool made-up name anymore.

We absolutely had to get a Chuck flashback and, in an episode heavy with the idea of regrets and time machines, of course this was gonna be Jimmy's. Maybe the one chance he ever had, to turn things around with Chuck, the one time Chuck ever reached out to him for a change, maybe the one time Chuck could have changed if only a little, and so could Jimmy.

Chuck is rightfully remembered as such a pain in the ass and even one of the reasons people disliked the show, and the current response to him always seemed to be 50/50 between "Chuck was a monster that ruined every chance his brother had at being good" and "Chuck was right about literally everything that Jimmy was and would be" but, I liked that his final scene just punctuates what an awful, awful tragedy it was for the both of them to turn out like this, that they both could and should have done so many things differently, that they both deserved better than to destroy each other like they did. That, more so than Walter or Howard, Chuck is Jimmy's biggest regret and the one he'd been dying to confess the most to.

If the running idea across most posts I've written or reblogged about this show is that Better Call Saul is a ghost story, there was really no other way this show could have possibly ended without the exorcism of it's greatest, most pervasive and dangerous ghost: Saul Goodman. And maybe Saul Goodman's never really gonna be banished for good, the prison mates will surely never let their hero die (and isn't that what Jimmy wanted Saul to be? A hero, the guy with the slingshot?), but we know better, and more importantly, Kim knows better. There's only one person who still knows Jimmy McGill, and it's the only person that matters, because this was a love story.

There was really no other way this could have possibly ended for Jimmy and Kim and, I love that in the end, the poster boy for dodging the law and it's consequences, the character who made a living out of slipping away scott-free, the King of Getting Away With It, was the ONLY major character in this world who ended up facing legal consequences for what he did.

Just, fucking Saul Goodman being the only major character in this universe who goes to jail and stays there, and of his own volition no less. They couldn't kill him, and they couldn't let him go free, he had to get a unique fate and that was it. They let him "win" and get 7 years, show that he very much could have just gotten away with it, but he didn't, because he changed, because he had to prove he'd changed, because it had to mean something.

Man am I glad that I just happened to download a couple of songs off the BCS soundtrack a few days prior to watching this, because when that final smoking scene started playing the track "Shared Smoke" that also played in the smoking scene in the first episode, I was SO glad to be able to recognize it.

I hope they don't do more spin-offs but, I would absolutely watch anything these people did. They made so much of what seemed like such an unworkable premise it's nothing short of magic.

It was a love story, first and foremost. It was also a ghost story. It was a crime drama. It was a lawyer show. It was a comedy. It was a horror show. It was a story about people becoming the worst versions of themselves. It was about the best versions of ourselves coming through at the last minute. It was a downfall and a redemption. It was the beginning of a legend and the end of an era. It was everything that could have possibly been expected of it and it was a million other things it had no right to be. It was a FUCKING SPIN-OFF and it held a grip on our souls and it's gonna be greatly missed.

Would have still liked to see Huell one last time though. Hope he's doing fine in Louisiana.

#better call saul #breaking bad #bcs #bcs s6 #bcs spoilers #peter gould #vince gilligan #bob odenkirk #tony dalton #rhea seehorn #giancarlo esposito #michael mckean #aaron paul #bryan cranston #youtube stuff

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justanotherfanaccount · 1 year

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pt 3

shadow and bone s2e3 reaction

love the flying sturmhond 🥰 sail on!

jesper defending everyone 😌 as he should

...though kaz is being bitchy...even for him

they did the flashbacks super well! you can definitely start to see what is happening

"but never compassion" the baghra scene is well done!

"there was a moment where you could've earned her love instead of claiming her power...another lesson? or maybe just another mistake" THOSE ARE FIGHTING WORDSSSS ...I feel like this will not make the darkling happy...

THE FOLD SCEEENNNEE WITH THE FLASHBACKKSSS SO GOOODDD

bad bitch move was chopping of that volcra head

YEEESSSS everyone finding out sturmhond is nikolai!!! love love love love love such a good reveal

"you've got to be joking" "saints"

OMG ALINA PUNCHED HIM YES BADASS SHIT RIGHT THERE

David protecting genya 😭😭😭 beautifully done

the subtly of evil that the darkling has is very well done its almost one of those things where from far away he is smiling and he never does anything outright against people so if people try to be like "he abused me" they'd be like "how" and it'd be like "well...he said things in a scary tone?" which is terrifying

zoya being nice to alina? 👀 that's the biggest change from the books so far (jkjk...but kinda)

"you're gonna make me go in there...aren't you?" he's such a cutie just love him

...this is more about last episode but do we ever get to find out what happened when they first met?? 👀👀 likkkee it took jesper being on top of wylan to remember so I FEEL like something went down more than just a "hello I bought you stroopwafels"

me pausing the show right before they started talking about it 🤭🤭

ope...there's the kaelish prince

wylan saying "how?" to jesper fixing the piano 👀 ummm you'll learn...someday

wylan playing piano 😭😭 jesper is faaalliinngg

"Pekka Rollins killed my brother" daamnn it's all happening it did need to be said though in the way that they're doing the story right now...otherwise he would'nt've had inej's trust

I love how inej said "then we destroy him" because it wasn't with sympathy...which is perfect because kaz did not want inej's pity...it was said as a fact

I like how kaz is helping inej like in the bathroom scene of crooked kingdom but this time with gloves...because when he takes his gloves off next time it's going to be a big development

this scene is WORD FOR WORDDDD IT MAKES ME SO HAPPYYY

I'm a little scared though...cuz they've taken A LOT from crooked kingdom so far...so if we get our spin off...what then?

like Kaz's speech to the dregs! that's from crooked too!!

he's such a badass though so it's hard to be mad cuz I love to see it

I LOVE KKKAAAZZZZZ

but also...a lot of this is from crooked kingdoommm IM SO CONFLICTED

same with inej fighting with the taxidermist...it's a bit of a rip off of the white hood from CK...except we haven't really seen them do anything SUPER badass yet (aka the ice court heist) so it just looks like she's a SUBPAR fighter instead of an amazing fighter who has finally met her match

but inej is such a badass...I love hhheeerrrr

her saying the prayer after the fight 🥺

the darklings "please" 😳

oh damn

ARE WE ABOUT TO SEE BAGHRAS TORTURE IN REAL TIME

David leaving because he thinks genya is behind him 😭😭 poor baby we all know what's next

the proposal hahhah she's so maddd

mal actually being nice about it? and knowing it's a good idea? 👀 I love this mal compared to the book hahaha

ok. thenway the darkness creeps from beneath him is cool as he'll.

oh noooo...David being there for genyas torture is so much worse 😭😭 poor David (but so well done omg)

...I love wesper...by why are we going so fast...it's supposed to be a slow burn...emphasis on SLOW

they're holding hands and jesper is OPENLY worried about wylan 👀 ummm

wylan you little badass I love you 😍 "I'm not going anywhere" of course you're not

is kaz drinking openly?? you ok man?

"ALBY ROLLINS CANT HELP WHO HIS FATHER IS" wylan are you about to do what I think you're about to do???

maybe they're trying to do the Pekka Rollins storyline now to just keep the van eck storyline for later??

umm...kaz has crazy eyes

I'm starting to get worried...man's is NOT doing okay

Matthias with the wolves 🥺🥺

oh nooooo he's fightiinngg

oh shit...man literally has the word "cannibal" tattooed on his back...Das not good

Matthias is huge...F this man up

oh shit...I guess he listened to me

I mean...at least nina didn't get choked

OMG YES HE LEARNED HOW TO USE HIS CONNECTION

#this episode had me questioning #it was well done #but im just nervous about the spin off #i need a six of crows spinoff #but they might he using too much from the books too soon #shadow and bone s2e3 #s&b s2e3 #s&b #shadow and bone #shadow and bone reaction #s&b reaction #s&b spoilers #justanothersbreaction

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sugarylawliet · 3 years

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no good for me (light yagami x reader)

i’m back lol

> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray

> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28

❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜

Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.

Come to my house. We need to talk.

You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?

It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted.

His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.

❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜

Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort.

You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”

“No Light,”

“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”

You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it.

“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.

❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜

“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.

“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.

Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.

You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.

Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all.

You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’

“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds.

You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away.

“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.

“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.

“1...”

And

Nothing.

You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh.

He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines.

You were alive- no, he let you live.

❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it

“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.

“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”

Why were you even apologizing?

“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.

❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜

“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”

You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.

You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”

Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly.

“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception.

Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”

He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.

Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.

“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.

“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”

You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.

“Oh god Light, fuck,”

“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”

“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”

Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.

“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.

He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”

“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.

“Oh, Light, please, faster...”

“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.

“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”

“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”

His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”

You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”

You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach.

Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you.

“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him.

“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face.

You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.

You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.

❛ hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜

#i did not proof read this lol sorry for mistakes #Light Yagami #light yagami x reader #light yagami x reader smut #light yagami smut #toxic! light yagami #death note #death note smut #anime #death note x reader

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buoyant-breeze · 3 years

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Hi this is my first time requesting anything but i saw your hand headcannons and it was really sweet and cool and just;iolhkgbdjf so i wanted to ask if you could do some more for xiao, zhongli, venti and kahuza (can i also be called 🦊anon? :D )

authors note ⊱ UR WISH IS MY COMMAND! also yes, absolutely, i officially dub thee as 🦊 anon! could you tell me what ur pronouns are?? c:

part one (albedo, diluc, kaeya)

part three (childe, itto, scaramouche, thoma)

characters ⊱ xiao, zhongli, venti, kazuha

warnings ⊱ completely safe! enjoy!

rating ⊱ sfw, but brief suggestive mention in venti’s lol, viewer discretion kinda advised

xiao

his hands are very thin, with pretty long, slightly bony, fingers

the bones on the back of his hand are always very visible

has decent hand strength; it shows whenever the muscles in his hands flex from movement

surprisingly unscarred

has two sunpots on his left hand though, and three on his right wrist

his hands are just as pale as the rest of his complexion, if maybe a little lighter

slightly more worn down on his palms from weapon handling and wearing his usual gauntlets

the muscles on his wrist are extremely noticeable and jut out a little; it comes from years and years of lancework, as seen when he deftly spins his polearm or twists it around his body in quick, fluid movements that waste no time

doesn’t really have callouses, surprisingly

when you hold hands, he holds yours very tightly, unwilling to let go unless he must

it’s like he’s scared you’re gonna disappear

and for that, he’s surprisingly clingy

squeezes onto your fingers extra tight when he’s stressed, especially if he’s worried about you

gets embarrassed if anyone points out how he’s holding your hand, but he makes no move to let go

likes to follow you around when he’s holding your hand, he’ll stay as close as a shadow

when you’re alone together, he likes to cuddle with his head on your chest while holding your hands

zhongli

longer than the average person’s, look rather strong

the veins sort of jut out more than usual, they are very visible, especially on the back of his hand

his hands have a slight more amount of girth, as well

there is a certain elegance to the way he carries himself, and it extends even to his hands; they have a very gentlemanly look, in spite of their obvious strength, and they handle anything that it is holding with the most extreme amount of care and diligence

he doesn’t show his bare hands too often, but he will gladly leave them bare when in private

they run warmer than most people, but only by a little; it just feels pleasant when his hands stroke along your skin

his wrist muscles, similar to xiao, are also more visible than usual, but his are ‘hidden in plain sight’ given the similar aesthetic of his hands

always holds your hand in a gentle, relaxed way

the way he holds your hand will quickly turn sturdy and comforting the moment he senses you are stressed or anxious, however

he’s rather romantic and traditional; he will always greet you by softly kissing your knuckles, and he likes to kiss the inside of your wrist

rather fascinated with your hands, in general, truth be told

likes to hold your hand idly, no matter what he is doing; it feels like a moment where both of your souls are connected

venti

super soft, kinda squishy, with an average length to his fingers

they have a very delicate appearance, like the kind of hands you’d expect to be on a princess, or ‘pretty lady hands’

has small callouses between his fingers from playing instruments

he’s pretty dexterous, he sometimes tosses an apple up and down in his hands while eating

extremely practiced hands—if you ever stop and watch him play music, it is easy to be mesmerized by the swift, elegant motions of his fingers, strumming across the chords

similarly very good at strumming you along

pretty handsy, loves physical touch

always seems to be grasping for you, holding onto you in some way

they look as soft as they feel

loves, loves, loves, looooves hand holding, it’s his favorite thing

he will always reach for your hand, pretty much at any given moment

loves tugging you around between the city streets, or guiding you towards the best dandelion field, or just squeezing your hands between his while he excitedly rambles to you

lathers your hands with kisses while your fingers are looped with his

does that thing where if you touch him, he’ll put his hand over yours and intertwine your fingers with an affectionate smile

kazuha

extremely worn down hands; he covers them with bandages to help stabilize his joints and to alleviate many of the symptoms of hard labor and swordsmanship

there’s definitely a lot of scars scattered across his skin that look like they had been painful, but they’ve long since healed

his palms are particularly calloused, especially in the upper area near the base of his fingers; they tend to catch slightly on your skin whenever he touches you with bare hands, but it isn’t uncomfortable

has a lot of hand strength, but there is never really a clumsiness to them, he moves them with relative grace

his skin looks pretty perfect, otherwise; his veins and his bones are not that visible in most circumstances

his knuckles jut out a little more than most people, though, and they look slightly rosy

loves to hold hands, he gravitates towards physical affection; he’ll automatically hook his hands with yours whenever you two are together, and it is always a very affirming, loving hold

it makes you feel a little lighter, a little stronger, like he’s carrying part of your burdens with you, and it makes you feel less alone

he unbandages his hands every night, and he’ll cuddle up with you, linking your fingers with his before he falls asleep

likes to fidget with your hands instead of his own, something i mention here

always holds hands during intimate moments, especially when he feels overwhelmed with positive emotions

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

Batsis HC Compilation

1. Being the Artist/ Sensitive Also Kinda Scary Wayne Daughter HC (lol):

Warnings: Depression and anxiety mentions

· You were the first biological child of Bruce Wayne

· Well as far as you knew lol

· You were younger than Jason, but a few months older than Tim

· I suspect that if you were in the family business as long as Dick or so you’d have some issues

· Those would include but not be limited to depression and possible anxiety

· There would be happy days but it would still go downhill after a few days

· On the days where it was worst, everyone would pile in for family movie night

· Secretive person and would probably be quite and sarcastic

· Since you were living at the manor your entire life, you would’ve lived to see Jason’s death and it really hurt

· If you were a musician, I suspect that Alfred or Bruce would have walked in on you at the piano or something playing a terribly sad song about it or just emotions and they’d cry

· Something like the song “Beautiful Scar” by Alicia Moffet (sad one btw like omg)

· If you were a writer or an artist, just pieces describing everything symbolically

· Going back to the musician, there is a music room in the manor in my mind so I suspect that there are times where Bruce or one of your older brothers will carry you into your bedroom if they find you asleep

· You find it hard being a Wayne and all seeing as it’s like everyone around you is fake

· That led you to hanging alone a lot which concerned Bruce

· “Y/N, why don’t you go to the party you were invited to? It’s a beautiful day for one.” He said one day finding you reading in your bedroom.

You looked at him solemnly, “All my friends are fake and want me for money and clout.” “I don’t try to go out with them much if I don’t have to.” *Que protective batdad*

· The library is your home as well as the gardens

· Now public and patrol is a whole new story

· Riddler is your favorite villain because he starts good conversations

· Sometimes the villains have in fact questioned your health to your older brothers

· Riddler: So, does it concern you that Y/S/H/N seems to openly hate life or is it just me?

Nightwing: We all hate life, she just does a little bit more

Riddler: ...okkayyyyyyy

· You sometimes make very violent threats on patrol which lead to some interesting conversations in the vans back to jail

· The paps are literally scared of you

· You have given the famous Wayne glare but on level 1000, billions of times

· Very sarcastic answers to some questions

· When people on the internet come for anyone you love you shut them down asap

_______________________________________________________________________

2. Being the Business Woman

· You showed interest in the business for a while but never really total want to take over WE

· No, you wanted to leave that for Tim

· The boy deserved it anyways

· Instead you started taking extra courses in business and such in middle school and worked your way up

· While you didn’t like galas, you did try and make connections

· You went to either an Ivy Leauge or Oxford or something

· Then Wharton

· After that you were on your way

· If you already had a business it was booming but now it’s “extra booming”? idk but you get the idea

· HuGE

· Bruce was very proud and made that clear in interviews

· Your company works closely with WE

· Asking B for advice

· Paparazzi doubling down on coverage for you since now you’re bigger than ever

· Hosting you own galas

· You either have a big house and rooms for everyone or a penthouse with the same situation

_______________________________________________________________________

3. Being Bruce’s Favorite

· You have the best relationship with Bruce out of everyone

· He takes you out on father/ daughter lunch or dinner dates which is pretty fun

· He would never openly admit that you’re his favorite

· Taught you to drive

· If you ever need advice you go straight to him

· Best birthdays ever

· You go and visit him at WE and he lets you hang in the office

· There’s a secret fridge stocked with snacks

· Dad/ daughter patrol

· Read you stories as a child

· Legit might still if you ask

· You sit in his office to do homework

· Has come home to you spinning in his office chair

· Shopping sprees

· Interviews

· Very protective on patrol when it comes down to being in a ton of danger

_______________________________________________________________________

4. Being the Metahuman

· I’m thinking that you would have gotten your powers from a mission gone wrong

· It was probably involving magic or something and you were seriously injured

· I think that it would be fitting to be able to control darkness and things like shadows

· Everyone was freaked out including you

· You begged not to be sent away knowing what he thought of metas

· He promised that he wouldn’t and just had someone over that would help you

· Lots of tests at first and you kinda just lived in the Batcave for some time just incase

· After that you changed your costume a bit to fit to the power theme

· The villains were straight confused

· “Bats what happened to your kid? Why is she scarier now?” ...”it’s complicated”

· You know how in Young Justice, Robin had that creepy laugh?

· It was like that now but then shadows came out of the wall

· Everyone is pretty sure you made a few street criminals and Black Mask’s goon pee their pants

· Best Halloween fun on patrol now

· You scared Joker once

· The powers do sometimes take a darker turn and you had to learn to control that since it did come from a maliciously used magic

· “I can smell the fear off of you, clown.” You smiled and walked around him, shadows in the room, darkening your presence. “Uhhh Batsy, I don’t like this one anymore.”

· Hanging out with more Metas

· You and Duke are like best friends

· Gotta figure it out with someone am I right?

_______________________________________________________________________

5. Being the Author

· Your father does have presence everywhere, but you don’t like to think that that is the reason for your success

· I could imagine you being a true crime or just mystery writer

· Maybe even fantasy/fiction

· Jason helps you write them if you ever get stuck

· All of them go to your book signings and sometimes it’s embarrassing but also funny

· You love that they support you

· Care packages from Alfred when you’re on book tours

· There are typically also some more things tucked inside from everyone

· Staying up with Timbers

· Your room is probably really aesthetic just sayin

· Gardens and library is the beesstttttt

· Sometimes for books, you take your time on patrol and as a superhero even if you still do it as inspiration

· Everyone is like HoW Do ThEY COmE uP WiTh ThIS

· Hehe

· If you’re moved out I can imagine you have a really cool apartment or house

· Cozy and open

· *aesthetic*

· One time, Damian did a book cover for you and so since he actually wouldn’t let you pay him, you took him on tour with you

· You helped him make that his side hustle lol

· Alfred has all of your books in the library

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay so I could NOT sleep last night and was up till 6 doing this, I don’t mind adding onto it and I’ll totally take requests for this. I do hope that you guys liked this.

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

And the aftermath of the first battle. Featuring more OFA talk!

[No. 34 - Victory or Defeat]

The cover art for this chapter is actually pretty gorgeous. Like, wow, that HAIR. It looks so damn soft I can’t even.

Getting into the chapter itself, we get just shy of a page of flashback to Shinsou’s middle school. Several students are talking about how cool Shinsou’s quirk is, how they’ve never heard of a quirk like it, how jealous they are. One student comments on how he could make all kinds of trouble with it, while another adds on that it’d be without getting his hands dirty. She then asks Shinsou not to go around controlling them.

Past Shinsou just laughs it off and notes how everyone says that, with his internal narrative thinking about how he’d also expect bad things from someone with his ability. That person would probably turn into a criminal - a villain, even. So he’s used to everyone implying that about him. That’s just how the world works.

Back in the present, we see Shinsou gritting his teeth, while Izuku is standing over him, a bit bloody and beaten, but still victorious. Present Mic again confirms Izuku is going to the second round. Up in the stands, Kaminari nudges Katsuki’s shoulder with his own, noting how Izuku had also gotten him with that shoulder toss. Katsuki looks a bit put out, I guess? Or just distracted. He calls Kaminari dunce face, which gets a fantastic face out of Kaminari.

Artwork.

There’s a bit here about Izuku using a baiting tactic that I’m not sure whether is from Katsuki or Aizawa, since Aizawa’s thought process continues in the next panel. In either case, I am certain it’s Aizawa noting how Izuku was concentrating his quirk in just his finger, like the strength test and the throw in battle training. Izuku’s been learning from those experiences - or rather, said experiences have forced him to adapt.

As Shinsou and Izuku bow (or at least Izuku does), Present Mic comments on how the event is off to an uneventful start, before encouraging the crowds to put their hands together for their fierce competitors. As the crowds do so, Izuku is thinking about Shinsou’s words, being ‘naturally blessed’ and ‘getting to follow his dreams.’ Eventually, Izuku asks why Shinsou wants to be a hero. Shinsou turns away to start leaving the platform while replying that ‘we don’t get to choose the things we naturally admire.’

Izuku vibes deeply with this, thinking about how those feelings are just like how Izuku was before he got One For All. But as he is now, what does he say to that?

Shinsou gets his own surprise, however, when his classmates start shouting their praises from the stands above the entryway. One says how awesome Shinsou had been out there, another on how he’d had them on the edge of their seats, a third on Shinsou being the shining star of the general studies guys, and a fourth on how he’d done just as well as the guy who’d gotten third in the obstacle course (Katsuki). Shinsou looks like he has no idea how to process this. And if that’s not enough, the heroes in the crowds are also talking about him and his quirk with no small amount of admiration.

...oh man, wait, do I spy Miss Joke there with the crowds?

Why, yes it is! I don’t know if her character was fully planned or background developed at this point, but I suppose Hori must have elevated hr to more than a one-off appearance at some point. Perhaps liked her relatively simple design?

But yeah, we shift back to Shinsou and the other gen ed students as the latter point it out, and repeat how awesome he is. Shinsou says nothing for a moment, hesitating at the entrance, before speaking to Izuku. UA will consider transfers to the hero course depending on the results here. Remember that. Maybe he failed here, but he’s not giving up. He’ll show UA he’s got what it takes to make the hero course, and he’ll become a greater hero than all of the other students.

Izuku accepts this driven challenge, only to get caught in Shinsou’s quirk again. Izuku’s confused, because the match is already over. Shinsou comments on how people who respond to him tend to stiffen up like that, and how it’d be easy to mess everything up for Izuku just now. But instead he just demands a promise as he lets Izuku loose from his quirk - don’t lose in a sorry way out there. Izuku agrees again, only to again be temporarily caught in Shinsou’s quirk.

Also, it's a teeny thing here, but I know there's been people (not necessarily in here, but in general) who've questioned how shinsou's quirk works, and from here in the sports festival, what I can at least determine is this:

-his quirk can affect multiple people at once

-people don't remember what they were doing under the quirk's effect (barring Izuku for Reasons)

-his quirk takes effect when he chooses after someone responds verbally to him (sign language or writing don't work)

-it can be a statement or question someone responds to!

-general non-word noises, or non-directed sounds (ie izuku's growls of exertion) don't work as targets for shinsou's quirk

Anywho, with that, we transfer over to Recovery Girl’s temporary office, where Izuku is getting himself healed up while Toshinori hovers nearby nervously. Izuku admits that he couldn’t smile at all, and Toshinori considers that and figures this must have been a tough battle for him, given what Shinsou was saying. Izuku replies that that doesn’t make it okay for him to lose; when you’re aiming for the top, that’s just how it is, right?

Recovery Girl is not impressed with the ‘life lessons’ Toshinori is passing on to Izuku, spinning around to wallop Toshinori on his non-injury side. Toshinori tries to reply that it’s all necessary, only to be interrupted by said wallop and yelp in pain. While Toshinori is nursing his poor abused ribs, Izuku brings up the vision he had.

He saw eight or nine shadows - not sure on that - when his mind was lulled from the brainwashing, the vision appeared and snapped him out of it. In that instant, he was just barely able to move his fingertip. One of them had Toshinori’s hairstyle… so could it have been the souls of the people who have inherited One For All?

Now, a few things I have to say to this:

First off, holy SHIT did Izuku already pretty much hit the nail on the head for what’s happening here. We obviously don’t really get more about this for, what, a hundred and fifty or so chapters? I dunno when the JTA is in the manga exactly, so I’m probably off, but even before then, there’s only a few hints here and there about the whole ‘ghost’ thing happening - and yet, Izuku already is kinda sus of what’s happening after just one vision.

Secondly, while it’s way more likely that it’s Izuku being scared and confused that has him questioning the number of shadows he saw there, I also really love how it’s a perfect set-up for something Fishy if Hori so wants, while also allowing an out if he doesn’t want. It’s like, does the number mean something, or is it just a scared schoolkid struggling to remember details he only glimpsed for a moment?

In any case, we move on to Toshinori’s response to this strange vision. Mostly in that he finds it kinda scary. Izuku is confused, because he was sure Toshinori would know. Toshinori admits that he did see them once when he was young, and that it’s a clear sign Izuku is getting used to One For All.

At Izuku’s visible confusion, Toshinori continues - the shadows are traces of the quirk’s past bearers. But whatever they are, they can’t directly interfere or influence Izuku. Nor can Izuku affect them. In other words, that vision wasn’t what undid the brainwashing. Rather, it was Izuku’s protagonist powers strong will that allowed him to see those faces - and as far as Shinsou’s brainwashing, Izuku overcame it! Just for an instant! He managed to move that fingertip all on his own.

Izuku isn’t convinced, but Toshinori chastises him, telling him not to dwell on it, and shouldn’t he be worrying about his next opponent instead? Izuku agrees, and thanks both him and Recovery Girl before heading out. Only once Izuku is gone does Recovery Girl note that Toshinori’s shadow had been there too. Toshinori replies how that’s not a bad thing.

My take on this whole scene?

But yeah, it definitely is interesting how early Hori outright told us what was happening with One For All, only for it to be dismissed by Toshinori and a good chunk of the audience. I mean, I don’t know if Hori was planning everything with the vestiges and the other quirks at this point, but he sure laid the groundwork here, and I kind of love it.

Anywho, moving on from that, we shift over to Shouto making his way towards the arena for his own fight, only to run into the last person he wants to see - Endeavor. Shouto tells Endeavor to get out of his way, but Endeavor ignores him, instead calling Shouto a disgrace to him. He harps on about how Shouto could have crushed the obstacle course and the cavalry battle if he’d used his left side. Shouto says nothing as he marches himself past his father.

Endeavor tells Shouto to grow up, and stop rebelling like some petulant child. His duty is to surpass All Might. He’s different from his siblings - Endeavor’s greatest creation! Shouto asks if that’s all Endeavor has to say, then states how he’ll win this with his mom’s power alone. He’ll never use Endeavor’s power in battle. Endeavor states how that might be good enough while he’s a schoolkid, but he’ll reach his limit soon enough.

Shouto is… not in a good headspace. As we’ll see momentarily.

Izuku joins Ochako and Tenya in the stands while Present Mic starts to announce the participants of the next match. Sero Hanta, the cream of the crop, and yet somehow still as plain as they come! Versus Todoroki Shouto, the best of the best, strongest of the strong!

The match starts as Sero finishes stretching himself out, stating how he doesn’t really feel much like winning. His arms then snap forward, the tape rushing out to wrap around Shouto. Sero tugs back, yoinking Shouto into position to be swung out of the arena. Present Mic hypes up the surprise attack maneuver, and how it’s probably the best strategy for him, overall complementing how Sero’s giving it his all. Shouto, still somewhat mad-eyed, apologizes, and then-

...yikes. How Sero (or any audience members in the way) didn’t die here is a show of Shouto’s astounding control here, even if it doesn’t seem like it. The entire stadium is dead silent as Sero calls the move a bit overkill. Midnight, half-frozen as well, tentatively asks Sero if he can move. Sero asks if she’s kidding, before the frostbite starts getting to him and he starts biting back pained hisses. Midnight announces Sero’s loss, and the crowds are… pretty sympathetic, calling out good tries to him.

Shouto steps forward to start defrosting Sero, apologizing for overdoing it, stating that he’d just been annoyed. Up in the stands, Izuku watches on, with his future narration noting that, lost amid the cheers that arose from the audience, he saw Shouto defrost his own frozen self with his left hand. And to Izuku… something about Shouto seemed really sad.

Shouto is announced to be moving on to the second round, and the chapter closes.

Holy shit. This chapter is actually really something, and not just because of One For All. But still, it really is fascinating to see what groundwork laid early on in the series ended up being used way down the line by Hori as he got more comfortable with the direction he wanted his story to go in.

Anywho, see you next time for the last chapter of volume four! Which means the next bonus material post is upcoming. And I can just say there’s some interesting stuff in that as well…

#chapter 34 #sports festival arc #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #recovery girl #yagi toshinori #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #Sero Hanta #izuku: so i think our quirk is haunted #toshinori: nah you're just the main character #izuku: bet #(150 chapters later)#izuku: quirk's haunted bitch!#toshinori: :|

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thundershadowfox1324 · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 2 - you can also find this on my Wattpad under Shadowfox1324 if you prefer that.

Three months have passed since I decided enough was enough and bolted. It has not been easy what so ever but the world feels different, well everything does because I'm not being fed lies. yes I grew up the the cold walls of the palace and don't know the world, but I am learning for myself real horrors. The world is defiantly cruel and I can't let my guard down but I like the metaphorical freedom.... even if I am being robbed every 10 minutes.

I unfortunately had to ditch Renny early on so it would be harder to recognize and connect the dots to my identity. I hope the farmer I handed her off to is taking care of her.

3 months has been hard on me, an unprepared "sheltered" 15 year old but I have learned much.

I'm currently located just inside the kingdom itself but I'm far from the main city. I somehow found myself in a nice cozy little town. Not much to see really. I am looking at buying some supplies from a merchant stand when I see the guard enter. I throw my dark hood up in an attempt to blend in better. They are calling for attention and holding flyers. I know for a fact it's my reward poster. I've seen it myself, took a whole week for father to realize I'm not returning and for him to care. The reward itself isn't all that much money wise. I don't have any doubts that he secretly hopes I don't go back. To bad I'm the only one to continue his blood line or his legacy is lost to time.

The guard is getting closer and I can feel the world start to spin, I have not come this far to be caught. I refuse to think of the consequences for leaving.

I politely excuse myself from the stand and make my way down the street. The guard is just behind me, I need to get out of sight. I turn a corner and press myself to the wall and slid down trying to breath and keep the impending panic attack at bay. Clutching the sides of my hood tightly and holding it close to my eyes blocking out the world. The fluff of my light blue hair brushing my cold fingers. It tickles but it's taking my mind off the people just around the bend asking about me. A few moments pass, still tense, I peak around the side of the wall. I still see the lavender colored armor of the castle guard. I settle back down to wait when I realize I'm not alone in the ally way.

There's that moment, when your stomach drops, the feeling of being caught by a stranger, and your both stuck in some suspended reality. Me and the older gentleman are both hidden away, starring into each other's eyes. No words. The other man tilts his head. I can feel my earlier panic flair again at having been watched this whole time. He saw my moment of weakness. That's how people get killed out here. I can see two swords strapped to his dark clothing.

My ears are ringing, and I have no clue what to do, or what is happening. The other man, who is crouched behind some storage crates, seems to be observing me. I can't move my eyes away until I here the armored footsteps move close to the ally opening and the other man reaches over, grabs my black hoodie sleeve and tugs me behind his crate. It's more out of view to the opening. He pulls me close to him. I'm way to out of sorts to understand or really fight back but I keep quiet and hardly breathe.

We both sit there in silence for a while, so long that I have come back to my senses. I'm not calm per say but I'm now at least aware. The strange man stands and starts to walk away. I'm still on the ground watching him, slightly dazed. He stops and looks back at me and moves back over to grab me by my shoulders gently and leads me to my feet. I have no choice but to follow.

He leads me just outside the town, to the boarder of the woods. He whistles sharply three times and another man steps out. This one seems a bit older and dressed in black and purple. He is wearing a mask that obscures most of his face. They switch, and the dark quiet man disappears into the shadows. The other stands there watching me, making me uncomfortable. Soon the shadow man and another of similar age but with some sort of replacement arm walk out. They seemed closed off, but the new unfamiliar face is hiding excitement poorly. I take a nervous step back, realizing I'm not the safest, with 3 older men looking me over and all carry a weapon of some sort....how could I have been so stupid. It's not that I trust them, but I had hoped they wouldn't take advantage of me. It's not like I had a chance of escape but I should have tried. I'm panicking again. My chest is tight and I can't breathe. I don't understand what is happening and none of the strange people have said anything.

The man with the magic arm, his lips are moving, saying something but I can't hear over my own erratic breathing and static filled mind. Frozen to the spot unable to move before I feel a hand on my shoulder and a light breath in my face. The sharp mint smell snaps me a bit into awareness and the man that brought me here is taking exaggerated slow breathing and I try to match. I recognize this as him trying to calm me down. I assume that he's mute or antisocial as he has yet to speak to me. Once I take a deep sigh and look up from the ground I see the other 2 having a conversation paying me no mind. Almost like they are giving us space or something. I still have the thrum of unease stringing through my system but I ignore it best I can to face these strange people.

The man in the purple from before notices that i seem to be done and heads over with the other following him. The man with the strange arm speaks and as he does I take in more details from each now that my head has cleared a bit but ever still buzzing. He says "well hello there sorry if we scared you" he smiles and glances to the tall one still beside me. Not really knowing what to say I stand there awkwardly hands fidget with a loose string in my black pull over hoodies pocket.

The one who found me wore dark leathers with 2 swords fashioned to his belt. He has short white hair and a face full of scares that probably told story's. His expression seemed ever locked in intense disinterest but seemed kind enough. The happy one with the missing arm had some sort of device attached to his stump that allows the mage hand spell to operate in its stead. He wore a bow on his back to accompany the arrows and dressed in a cloak of dull blues and greens. His dirty blond hair swept to the side and had a nice beard going on. The third kept his face hidden with his dark coat and a face cover all adorned with purple accents. He had a quiver attached but instead of arrows, seemed to be filled with all kinds of weapons and swords. The mute white haired man started signing, only able to pick up a few words from my study's. 'Kid hid and follow being the only things I could catch. The purple coat turns to me and hums as the one with the missing hand starts to talk to me. "Sorry if this is all confusing for you" he turns to white hair "you know max is not gonna like this right? Ahhh who cares I'm already attached" the man in purple sighs and talks to me "sorry bout these two, randsom over there is the embodiment of an excitable puppy. Creed is the dark and mysterious one and as you could probably tell doesn't speak much, he has damage to his vocal cords so it hurts him to talk." He leans in close to whisper to me "He seems pretty scary but he's soft just don't let him know I told you that" he laughs to himself like he told a funny joke and leans back into a normal posture. "I myself am X/R, not my real name obviously but I like this more. Let me explain a bit, from what I understand creed over there found you freaking out and hiding away from the authorities. He happens to have a huge soft spot for kids so he brought you to us. We don't know what's gonna happen to you but I promise we are not gonna hurt you." I stand there in mild shock and confusion. These are probably some of the weirdest and dumbest people I have ever met. X/R continues speaking "we have 2 more members to our little group here and they will be back soon, they are on a scout run, the girl is phyzee (pronounced sighzee) psy has a few screws loose but I think we all do as well" he chuckles to himself again, I just stay silent and stand there awkwardly. "Max is a bit more intense, he's the one you gotta watch out for. He hates us all but we follow him anyway. I don't know but he has this huge protective streak in him. He probably won't like you being here but we can convince him otherwise. He won't hurt you unless you give him a good reason though so you got that going for you. Hey if you don't mind me clarifying something, you don't want to be found right?" I simply nod in response. "I see, well if you want we can put on a good word for you to travel with us, we could certainly use them extra set of hands, and not to be offensive but your kind of pathetic" I cringe and blush out of embarrassment, I know these people for a few minutes and they think I'm hopeless just like everyone else, so much for hoping things would be different.

At that moment a 20 year old girl wearing red ragged looking monk clothes with really fluffy light hair and another guy. He's wearing very simple clothes, like black tee shirt and jeans kind, and looks to maybe be in his early 30s but he almost has this homeless look about him, the long wavy dark red hair not helping to lessen the vibe. The moment he sees me he stops and looks very unhappy. He directs his speech to the man in purple - X/E or something and the man with the ghostly prosthetic-

Randsom I think? I don't know but he's mad "what did you two do? You.... Why?! Argggh" he throws his hands up in Frustration and starts to pace a bit "we seriously can not keep anymore of your strays" randsom pipes up kinda shyly "actually this one is on creed, found him in an ally way nearly passed out from fear of something" max without skipping a beat "and that's our problem how? Guys you know we can't afford to have another mouth to feed. At least your smart enough to not take him to camp" starts rubbing his temples and directs his attention to me "hey kid do you have somewhere to go?" Realizing that all attention has now been directed to me by the question I freeze up. Wide eyes and whole body shivers that are really annoying take over. I try to shake my head but my whole consciousness is off kilter and I just want to hide away. Max groans and rolls his eyes "fine we can take him in for the night, he's not gonna survive if he's like this but In the morning we leave and he stays here, it is not our problem."

X/R and Randsom high 5 and catch the girl up on what's happening. Creed is off to the side of me keeping watch on the perimeter. I sink to the ground and try to collect myself, I can handle this I can do it, cause if I can't then I'll never stop being some loser who freaks at a leaf.

#chaos hero’s #dnd5e #original story #writing

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Note

Peter and MJ, coworkers who barely know each other's names, but could draw each other's faces from memory, get stuck in the elevator together at the end of a work day

Thanks for the prompt, Anon! I started writing the fic for this so fast haha

Overheard at the Bugle

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: M Word count: 5394

Summary:

Peter's having a late night at the office and finds out he's not the only one working overtime right before he and the new reporter, Michelle Jones, get trapped in the Bugle's unreliable elevator. He just needs to handle this situation calmly and not do anything to give away his secret identity. It'd be easier to focus on the task at hand if his enhanced hearing wasn't picking up something very unusual coming from the voice recorder in Michelle's bag.

Peter tries to keep a low profile at the Bugle―he doesn’t need anyone giving a second thought to the guy who turns in crisp closeups of Spider-Man week after week―but he didn’t realize he’s invisible. He’s gotta be for the custodial staff to start shutting the lights off on his floor as he’s still sifting blearily through the emails that arrive every five minutes; they’re all stamped with Sent from J. Jonah Jameson’s iPhone. Almost in the dark, Peter snaps his laptop shut, shoves it into his messenger bag, and sprints for the elevators. He’s not scared of the dark (what kinda hero would that make him?), but after lights-out comes locking the doors and he’s not keen on spending the night here. Though his apartment might not be much, it’s his escape from work.

He skids around the corner to find the glow of an elevator that’s just closing.

“Hold it!” Peter shouts, shooting his hand out to part the doors as a frantic tapping comes from inside.

“I was pushing the button…” a woman explains as he steps in.

She turns her head and a spill of wavy brown hair is pushed aside to reveal the face of Michelle Jones. Peter swallows. His gaze goes from her startled brown eyes to her finger, now slipping off the Doors Open button.

“Yeah,” he says, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, “this thing can be temperamental sometimes.”

“Right. Ground floor, I assume?”

“Yep.”

He moves off to a respectful distance as she presses the button to take them down and the doors close. His heart’s hammering. Though he’s heard the confident tone of her voice plenty, she’s never specifically spoken to him. Nor he to her. Luckily, the walls of the elevator have an intentional burnish with the scuff of wear on top, so there’s no chance of her catching sight of his stare in their reflections. Peter doesn’t mean to, it’s just that she took her hair down. She mostly wears it twisted and pinned at the nape of her neck and probably just shook it out when she got into the elevator, heading home. He gets it. He has his tie jammed into his bag, collar unbuttoned, and sleeves cuffed up to his elbows. Nobody gives a shit about dress code after the boss is gone, especially if they’re working late with no guarantee of overtime pay. Quit looking at her, he thinks, and snaps his gaze down to the floor. He can still smell her shampoo, courtesy of the enhanced senses.

“Sorry about the lights,” Michelle offers, turning her head enough to address him, but not enough to meet his eye because he’s standing beside and slightly behind her. “I let one of the custodians know I was on my way out a few minutes ago. Thought I was the last one left.”

Peter frowns. That’s weird. Not what she says, but that, when she speaks, he thinks he hears an echo. My one-on-one exclusive with Spider-Man, it says, in the voice of the reporter currently sharing the elevator with him. He opens his mouth to ask Michelle if she hears it too and catches himself. That’s a habit he broke years ago, when he realized there are way more things other people can’t hear and it only risks freaking them out and exposing himself to reveal that his senses are more animal than human.

“Don’t worry about it,” he responds distractedly.

The first thing to know about Spider-Man is that he’s not a nine-to-five kinda guy. Without regular business hours, he joins me for this interview in my Brooklyn apartment on a Friday evening. The red suit is predictable; the rap he gives my living room window to announce his arrival smacks more of cheeky showmanship. This reporter has to wonder whether, for him, finally submitting to such an in-depth, sit-down conversation is a type of performance. Surely the man behind the mask knows his audience is rapt for any details on the life of a figure who, despite his status as a trusted friend to all, is so much a mystery to this city’s inhabitants.

Ok, what? Peter’s brain is spinning like a frisbee. He’s never given the kind of interview Michelle’s disembodied voice is describing, and definitely never given it to her. He’s never been to her apartment, doesn’t even know where she lives, and certainly isn’t eager to invite questions in some sort of exposé. Maybe what he’s hearing are just the notes she’s preparing for a future interview. Did Jameson assign this? He’s certainly nosy about Peter’s alter ego, but the tone of the piece is more curious than their boss’s usual style―scathing, obstinate, malicious. She sounds intrigued by Spider-Man, not like she’s luring him into a trap.

The elevator jolts. It grinds. It halts. Michelle makes a sound of distress and taps Doors Open. She looks at him over her shoulder, face worried but also… flushed? Maybe she gets anxiety attacks.

“It’s alright,” Peter tells her, one foot in Spider-Man’s De-escalation Mode. He raises his hands in hopefully a calming gesture and her eyes dart to them, gliding over his bare forearms. Crap, does he seem threatening? He lowers his hands.

“I know it’s alright,” she assures him. “I just… who wants to be stuck at work?”

Michelle gives him a slight smile to accompany her joke and he returns it.

“Got a story to work on?” Peter asks.

His motive is partly to understand the narration he heard (which is still going on, a murmur beneath their much louder voices), but also to focus her on something besides the fact that the elevator is not moving.

“Just filed one actually, so, you know, theoretically free for the weekend.” She makes a phonily excited face that emphasizes how very not-free they are.

The continued jokes are a good sign that she isn’t overly alarmed. He’s still stumped about the story though. As she pulls her cell phone from the large leather bag over her arm, Peter tunes into the background noise. With the elevator silent, that’s just the recording of Michelle’s voice.

‘…later than I thought you would be,’ I inform him. He makes his excuses and where I would normally be annoyed by a failure to be punctual, I find myself charmed by New York’s man in red. I wonder where his adventures have taken him tonight, if his actions have prevented violence, saved lives. If his mere presence has inspired onlookers and comforted those who have lost faith in our traditional systems of stagnant courts and killer cops…

There’s no way Jameson can be aware of the spin she’s putting on this. Spider-Man’s no hero in the eyes of the editor-in-chief, just a menace, a pest, a cockroach climbing up the pantleg of the people who are supposed to enforce justice. That’s not the only thing that’s confusing. Peter’s fairly hung up on the fact that she’s conducting this interview like he’s there. Could just be her process. Playing the whole thing out to get a feel for however long it might be, where small talk might hypothetically cut into her list of prepared questions.

“No service,” Michelle huffs, tucking her phone away again. “You?”

Peter, startled, gets his phone out to check, though he already knows this elevator is a dead zone. He shakes his head. Frustrated, she moves her hand to jab the Help button. The one meant to connect the rider with 911.

“Don’t bother,” he coaches when she pushes it a second time after nothing happens. “I think that thing’s just for show.”

“Oh yeah?”

She’s arch, irritated. Peter stays calm, knowing it’s not really meant for him. People can get testy in stressful situations. Being trapped in an elevator is one of those. Not for him. For him, a stressful situation is a bullet graze or leaping from one office tower to the next and realizing in midair that he’s out of webs. Trapped in an elevator is a relaxing start to his weekend in comparison.

“Jameson never lets anybody inspect it. He’s a control freak, scared of spies. He thinks somebody’s gonna bug the elevator,” he clarifies to Michelle’s raised eyebrows.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well, have you met him?”

She exhales a laugh at that.

…invite him to get comfortable, I’m surprised at him choosing a seat at the opposite end of the couch I’ve just sat down on. I’d intended the chair across from me and think that should be obvious to him. Perhaps it is. The mask doesn’t make him the easiest man to read.

“So we’re just fucking stuck because Jameson’s scared of, who? Reporters from other papers? The CIA? Edward Snowden?”

A tingle goes down Peter’s spine when she swears. She’s commanding. Does she know that or is working under Jameson putting her qualities in the shadow of his, wielded for domination and intimidation?

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he says.

“This button’s never worked?” Michelle checks, leaning her knuckle into it to keep it depressed. “This is a major safety issue. Imagine there was a fire right now.”

“You should call somebody and report him.”

He can’t help being playfully sarcastic and thinks, for a second, that she’s going to bite his head off for it by the way her eyes flash. Then he thinks he might not mind. Then she laughs and he tries to take a normal breath.

“What do we do?” she wants to know.

What do they do? What do Peter and the woman he’s eyed across the office since she arrived at the Bugle two months ago do? Forced together by unhealthy work hours and a broken elevator? He shifts from one foot to the other.

“Hope the custodian decides to watch for you to leave the building and comes looking when you don’t.”

“I hate that plan,” Michelle informs him.

“Go ahead and come up with another one,” he invites earnestly.

She turns so she’s facing him and lets her back slump against the wall of the elevator. She shrugs to ease her bag off her shoulder. The strap tugs a little at her emerald-green blouse before it slides down her arm. She sets it on the ground by her feet. It looks like she’s doing what he suggested. Now it’s just Peter and her quiet voice, which he can tell is coming from the bag. Michelle must have a recorder in there. Probably thinks she shut it off, but the volume’s just really low.

‘…when you’re out there?’ I have to inquire of him. At his easy laugh, I shelter behind my coffee cup, taking a slow sip. ‘Lonely?’ Spider-Man repeats. ‘In a city this size?’ He’s being coy now. I’m certain he knows what I want and it’s the dare implicit in this exchange that prompts me to press him. ‘Not lonely for just anybody,’ I begin…

Crossing his arms, Peter rests against the back of the elevator, trying to be subtle as he tips his head to the side to hear more. He’s getting into this story now, even if it’s not real. For the first time, he’s starting to see how Spider-Man might be a pretty compelling guy. He likes this person she seems to think he is; he’s more interesting coming from her lips. Of course, not as interesting as she is, with her leading questions and the agenda she’s voicing for her recorder if not for the man she’s interviewing.

“Have you worked at the Bugle long?”

His gaze twitches over to Michelle’s face when she speaks.

“Since right outta college. Why?”

“Just wondered if this had happened to you before,” she explains, waving her hand at the elevator’s useless panel of buttons. “And I knew you were here before me.”

“You did?”

He shouldn’t sound so breathlessly hopeful. Obviously, she knew he was here first. Michelle could’ve noticed him one time in the past two months and seen him do anything to indicate that he’d been here longer―escape Jameson’s office just before he could get roared at, jiggle the plug to make the coffee machine in the breakroom work. But Peter does sound that way because of her tone. She says it like an admission and she breaks eye contact.

‘…you don’t want one?’ He declined my offer of coffee once, but I think he may change his mind now that we’ve warmed up to each other a little. Spider-Man twists and I can feel him regarding me from behind those large white eyes. ‘I’d have to take the mask off to drink it,’ he points out. I promise that I’m not trying to blow his cover, just be hospitable. Besides, I counter, he doesn’t need to expose his whole face. The mouth will do.

“So, has it?” she counters, ignoring his question.

“Has what?”

“Has it happened to you? The elevator shutting down?”

“Oh, uh, once or twice, but it was always in the middle of the day and there were a bunch of other people in the elevator with me, so it didn’t go unnoticed long. Jameson hassled me for missing meetings while I was trapped though.”

“It’s not like you could help it,” Michelle says.

“True, but…” Peter shrugs. “I learned to take the stairs.”

“Bet you’re wishing you took them tonight.”

He laughs.

“Not really. I mean, uhhh…” The sound drags out embarrassingly as he can’t manage to pull his gaze away from her surprised face.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says, saving him. “I think you’re keeping me saner than I would be alone.”

Right. That’s all. Which is enough, really. He’s glad to be of service, especially if that service is helping her not totally lose it.

“No problem.”

‘…because I can do more good if I’m an anonymous symbol,’ Spider-Man tells me. His body language has changed, shifting forward with the urgency of his words. ‘But some people must know,’ I say. ‘Your real identity can’t be a secret from everyone.’ ‘No Spider-Man is an island?’ is his clever rejoinder. I agree with absolute sincerity. ‘Even the strongest person needs to let others get close to them,’ I insist. Where he’s tugged his mask up, his mouth shifts from a wry grin to thoughtful softness. I find my gaze lingering there.

“Any ideas?” Peter asks, feeling hot.

The temperature inside the elevator is moderate, but Michelle’s words, as she draws him deeper into her story, are making him surreptitiously flap his collar to encourage air down his shirt. He’s starting to feel like this is something he’s not supposed to hear. Alright, it’s likely that nobody was supposed to hear it if these are just her rough notes before composing an article. Whatever. What Peter’s realizing is that maybe nobody’s supposed to hear this interview ever. The questions are too personal, too human-interest for the kind of paper they work at, and the way she depicts her responses is… intimate. Full of sensory details. It’s as though he’s in this apartment with her, sipping at her coffee, staring at her down the length of the couch. A Friday night, her voice said, and tonight’s one of those. How would Michelle Jones feel if she knew she was spending an evening with Spider-Man right now?

“I think the custodians would’ve made some noise by now if they knew anybody was in here and if they haven’t realized we’re missing, then I’m not sure anyone else will. I don’t know about you, but I live alone. I probably won’t be missed tonight because my friends will just assume I’m working and turned my phone off. I’ve been considering,” she goes on, “that we’ll either have to climb out the top and hope we’re close to the doors aligning with one of the floors or get these doors open. Either way, we need something to open the doors. Personally, I didn’t pack my crowbar.”

Peter stares at her in awe for a minute. She really did come up with a plan. Several plans. He knows he can help―he doesn’t need a crowbar to part the metal doors―but he can’t just wrench the doors open with his bare hands and act like it’s no big deal. He’ll need an explanation, which can’t be the truth. Revealing himself at the Bugle? To a Bugle reporter? Seems like the worst possible scenario. He doesn’t think Michelle is anything like Jameson in her motivations or basic moral compass (fine, he doesn’t know her, but that’s the sense he gets), and yet, she works for him. It’s her job to give him something fresh, something captivating, and he’s just not sure that her fascination with Spider-Man would be enough to make her want to spare Peter Parker the nightmare of his identity being splashed across Monday’s front page.

“Me neither.”

“This isn’t sustainable,” she mutters. He looks at her with concern. Louder, she adds, “If I get restless enough to climb through the ceiling, promise you won’t look up my skirt when I ask you to give me a boost.”

“Promise.”

Michelle assesses his face and he tries to appear his most transparent and trustworthy. Gradually, her eyes move away from his, but he’s still watching her and sees her stare at his throat, then his chest, and down. Whoa, Peter tells himself. Not a good idea. This woman might be a little hung up on Spider-Man, maybe even has a crush, but you and him are two different people.

Meanwhile, on the recording: …switch it off for him, holding the voice recorder up so he can clearly see that I’ve done it. ‘There,’ I say, ‘no one’s listening now. It’s just you and I.’ ‘So I’m supposed to feel closer to you without it?’ Spider-Man asks. ‘Don’t you?’ is what I want to know.

“Screw it,” Michelle decides a minute later, standing up straight. “I’m getting us out of here. Can you pick me up?”

Peter drops his messenger bag in an instant.

“Yep.”

He watches while she kicks off her black patent high heels (maybe picturing her pressing one of those bad boys into his chest), then they both tip their heads back and examine the ceiling panels.

“Front corner, maybe?” she suggests. “Just so I’m as close as possible to where the doors will hopefully be and I don’t have to wobble around up there in the elevator shaft.”

“Sure,” Peter agrees.

They cross to the appropriate corner and he bends his knees, locking his fingers to offer her a step. She grabs his shoulder for balance and lifts her foot, about to place it in his braced hands, then pauses.

“I’m Michelle, by the way.”

“Peter.”

“I know.”

He’s baffled and flushed as they shake hands, but he can’t dwell on it because her fingers are digging into his shoulder right before she presses her foot into his swiftly repositioned hands and hops up. She gives a small shriek as her body wavers before steadying herself with her palms against the ceiling. Peter drops his gaze. He can tell by her knees that she’s crouching slightly and he’s not glancing any higher than that. Her skirt falls to just below her knees and, as they lean into each other to keep her up, he ends up with her thigh pressed against the side of his face, the black fabric of that skirt under his cheek.

“You got me, right?”

“Right,” he says, careful not to ramble and divulge how little effort bearing her weight requires.

“Ok, I’m going to try to get a grip on this panel and slide it open.”

“Sounds good.”

Peter is looking straight across at the wall. He is not looking higher than her knees. He has no thoughts about the scent of her skirt and no theories on whether the lavender comes from her fabric softener or lotion that he’s also not imagining her rubbing into her skin before she got dressed for work this morning. She sways in his grip and he braces his arms more firmly, unable to do anything about her leg against his face. Michelle grunts and her body heaves as he hears her shift the ceiling panel. Her toes curl around his fingers. He exhales in relief; if she can figure this out without him needing to call on his super-strength, awesome. She goes home with a sense of accomplishment and he goes home maintaining his secret identity.

“Ok,” she calls down. “It’s open. Lift me higher.”

“Higher,” Peter mumbles to himself. Then, to her, “Uh, I might have to, um, hold your legs. But I won’t look at anything, I swear.”

“I’ve trusted you this far.”

Her voice is wry and he chuckles.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Michelle says.

With a bounce of his shoulders, he hoists her up. For a minute, he keeps hold of her foot, but then one of his hands clutches the back of her calf while the other cups her heel. Her weight pulls away from him as she hauls herself up through the ceiling.

“Is there a door?” he asks.

“It’s dark… Can you get my phone? It’s right inside my bag.”

“Ok, hang on. Literally,” Peter adds.

“Ha ha,” Michelle responds dryly, but when he gently releases his grip on her, he finds that she’s able to hold herself in place with her elbows. Her legs dangle and he hurries.

Their conversation and the rush of the action they just took concentrated his senses. Unfortunately, he’s now holding her work bag open and the sounds from her voice recorder are pouring out louder than ever. Still too quiet for her though, at this distance.

‘…didn’t think a suit that tight could hide much, but I’m still pleasantly surprised.’ ‘What, this?’ Spider-Man teases. I abandon my coffee cup and push my reading glasses up into my hair as I set my notes aside to lean in. He might as well have a web stuck to my chest. His awareness of his own physicality is evidently as precise afterhours as it is while he’s on duty because he skims a hand down his abdomen, appearing to almost accidentally hook his thumb in the band of his boxers. ‘You want the real scoop?’ he asks me, prying the elastic away from his skin provocatively. The taste of coffee is still thick and rich in my mouth when I encourage him: ‘Go on, Spidey. Don’t stop there…’

Peter almost drops the bag.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah! Yes. Mhmm, I’ve got it.”

He returns to Michelle and wraps one arm around her legs. With his other hand, he lifts the phone towards her. Her fingers clasp his, then locate the phone and take it from his grip. He holds still while she turns on her flashlight and has a look around. So, Michelle doesn’t have a little crush on Spider-Man. She’s hot for Spider-Man. Which means she’s hot for Peter, in a way. Except not, he reminds himself, because you’re just her silent co-worker. You’re never going to―

“FUCK!”

“What? No. What? What is it?”

“The next door’s way too high,” she says. “We must be almost lined up with one.” She taps him on the head with her phone and he slips it into his pocket for safekeeping as he prepares to help her down.

“We’ll find another way.” Will you? he asks himself.

“Quick question.”

“Uh huh?”

“How do I do this?”

He’s holding most of her weight now and, pressing a hand to flatten her skirt against her leg, chances a peek up at Michelle. Her head’s still through the ceiling, arms still braced over the open panel. What would definitely work would be her just letting go and him catching her in his arms, but maybe that’s too much faith for her to put in a random guy from work. Although he’s capable of lifting her, catching her falling body is a completely different thing. As with their escape in general, they don’t have a ton of options.

“Just let go slowly,” Peter coaches. “I’ll adjust how I’m holding you and you can sort of slide down my body.” The awkwardness in his tone garbles the last part.

“I can what?”

Dammit. She’s waiting to come down. He clears his throat.

“Uh, slide down my body?”

Her anxious laugh disappears into the elevator shaft.

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” he hears her hiss to herself. To him, “Yeah, ok. I’m coming down now.”

“I have you.”

Peter’s counting on the giddiness of being returned to the ground from a height to distract her from the too-skillful way he maneuvers his hands on her. Making sure her skirt never gets rucked up, not placing his hands anywhere truly unforgiveable. He holds her hips, not her ass, and turns his head so his face doesn’t wind up in her crotch. He’s really gentleman-ing his butt off when the recording in her bag calls out, ‘Harder, Spider-Man!’

His hands slip. A second ago, his head was level with her stomach and now his face is buried in her chest, the cup of her bra pressing back against his temple. Immediately, Peter tilts back from his shoulders.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry―”

“I’m ok, I’m good,” Michelle protests as they wriggle together to set her down. He forces her phone back into her hand.

“Your skirt was slippery…”

“I know. You did great, Peter, seriously.”

“…and I heard…”

He shuts his mouth fast, but her flustered expression dissipates as her probing gaze finds his eyes.

“What did you hear?”

Peter pushes at his sleeves and refuses to answer. Her powers of deduction don’t rely on him at all. She whirls to her bag, crouching and dropping her phone in to extract the voice recorder instead. Holding it to her ear in investigation, Michelle probably hears the words By the time he has me on all fours, I can tell that Spider-Man’s on board with my remark on the importance of letting someone be close to him at the same volume he does standing three feet away. He’s basically plastered himself to the opposite wall. She looks about as mortified as he figures he’d feel if he made a recording of a very personal fantasy and someone listened to it. Man, should he have just told her at the beginning? There didn’t seem to be a way to handle it well.

Michelle stops the playback and puts the recorder away. The elevator is abruptly quiet without the whisper of her voice. All the while, Peter’s staring at her, seeing what she’ll do. The most probable conclusion for her to come to is that he heard a single sound, a blip, and has no clue what the recording contained. The way she stands, leaving her bag on the floor, seems to confirm this. But she doesn’t look over at him.

With a sigh, he decides to do what Spider-Man would do and put the person in need first. What Michelle Jones needs from him is a way out of this embarrassment, and this elevator. Peter walks to the doors and stamps his hands to the metal. First, a little compression to get a good grip and then… Scrunching his face with the effort, he puts his back into it, forcing the doors apart. Next, he does the same thing to the outer doors, separating them to reveal a darkened hallway. The floor’s about three feet higher than where he’s standing inside the elevator, but that’s nothing for someone to scramble through and head for the stairs.

He steps away to let her go first. She doesn’t move.

“Should we talk about that?” Michelle asks, pointing at the doors, after what has to be a full minute of her studying him.

“I… work out? A lot. I work out a lot,” Peter says with more conviction on every try.

“And about this?” She grabs her recorder and waves it at him.

“You… use that to, uh, keep track of your ideas.”

She steps up to him and, without dropping her gaze from his face, reaches out to touch his wrist. Her fingers move from tracing his skin to ringing his web-shooter. He wears them to work pretty often, but always covers them with the cuffs of his shirt. Which he rolled up. Because he thought he was alone. There’s no reason for her to know what they’re for though, right? They could be medical alert bracelets, or just jewellery. It’s not like they’re branded with ‘Spider-Man’s Web-Shooter, 1 of 2.’

“You wanna talk about these?”

Peter opts out of replying.

“I know what they are,” she says. “What they’re for. I’ve researched you, looked at a lot of video footage and photographs, many of which I think you took, which seems equal parts fucked-up and brilliant. I noticed them right after we got stuck.”

“I have… a severe peanut butter allergy,” he says unconvincingly.

“Bummer,” Michelle shoots back, unsympathetic. Yeah, it was a terrible lie, but he’s gotta at least be able to say he tried to deny her accusations.

“It is, it is a bummer,” Peter agrees, nodding. He licks his dry lips to wet them. “Sometimes, I have such a craving for a PB and J and I can’t―”

She leans in and gives him a quick kiss.

“I’m… confused,” he admits.

“I know who you are,” she begins. “You don’t have to say it out loud, on the off chance somebody really has bugged this piece of shit elevator, but your severe peanut butter allergy bracelets, in combination with how you opened those doors, are pretty good evidence when compared with my research. So, if I take my supposition as fact―”

“Peanut butter…”

“Save it. If you are who I strongly believe you to be, then you were able to hear god knows what on that recording. Which I am an idiot for forgetting to erase or record over. Meant to do it last night… ugh, anyway. The important thing is that you heard it and you didn’t bolt through those doors the second you got them open. Why.”

When Michelle’s on a roll, he learns, her questions come out as demands. He quits trying to sneakily unfold his cuffs in a way-too-last-ditch attempt at concealing the truth.

“Ladies first?” he tries.

“I’m not going to use what I know. I promise you that. You’re a good person and as far as I’m concerned, your secret’s your secret. You do a hell of a lot more for this city than Jameson does with the trash he prints, my own contributions obviously excluded. Now I’m the only one held over a barrel here, Peter. You heard what you heard. Tell me why you stayed.”

“You needed me.”

“After you got the doors open.”

Peter thinks. Not just about whether or not to speak, but if he’s ready to say what he’s about to say.

“I needed you. It’s like what you said in the story―I mean, the recording. I don’t let many people get close to me.”

“Why would you let me be one of those people? It took being stuck together before we even had our first conversation.”

“A good feeling, I guess,” he explains. “Plus, you’re kinda my dream girl and I just found out that, at least on the physical side of things, you’re really into me. Like, really into me.”

“You can shut up about that now,” Michelle says.

“Why? You didn’t. You had so much to say.”

“Hmm, maybe I like Spi- I mean, that guy better when I’m speaking for him. Fortunately for you,” she says smugly, “I’ve thought Peter Parker the photographer was cute since the day I started working here.”

“That is news to me.”

Michelle wraps her arms around his neck, smirking as she leans her body against his.

“I was getting around to telling you. Are you surprised?”

“It’s a real scoop,” Peter acknowledges as his hands feel out the lithe shape of her back through her blouse.

“Oh my god, you heard that part? That part? How could―”

He more or less molds his mouth to hers. She more or less gives him a tour of her Brooklyn apartment before they spend the night in bed together and rise to a hot cup of coffee.

more clichéd tropes and prompts

#my writing #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

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riftimagines · 4 years

Text

Spirit Blossom!Thresh x Shadow Assassin!Kayn

This is literally just smut with a hint of plot. I’m not the best at writing smut but I was inspired to write this after someone, you know who you are :3, introduced me to this ship and we shared a lot of headcanons with them in different AUs but this is the one that came out. LOL. Also I recently made a A03 acc. called RiftWrites where I’m probably going to post my one shots there because Tumblr is kinda annoying with posting long stories RIP.

Warnings: Smut, Blood mentions, This has Thresh ffs XD

The smell of blood and death thickly floated in the air. The invading Noxians stood no chance against the blurry shadow that swept through the field and cleaved through them like animals for slaughter. It was like a creature from their worst nightmares but this creature was no creature but in fact, a man. The sheer speed and fluidity of his moments made him look like a living shadow, something that was created by magic and in a way was. The gifted shadow magic Sheida Kayn possessed was only enhanced further by the defeat of the Darkin scythe, Rhaast. Its defeat gave him unholy amounts of power and transformed the young man into a terrifying shadow assassin. His power showed on this day as there was more blood then grass on this once pristine grassland. Bodies lay askew where flowers once bloomed and from the corpses rose a particular bloom. A Spirit Blossom. This year was the year they had returned after thirteen years and now sadly they would leave again and with them the souls of the dead of this land both Ionian and Noxian. The sky began to fill with the blossoms of the dead Noxians and began to float away, good riddance. Now to get rid of what little was left.

In the not so far off distance a force was awakened. The sounds of lost spirits called out and from the realm of the dead came a seeker of said souls, a demon that sought to collect all the spirits and show them their true potential. Its unnatural purple skin and white hair contrasted against the natural hues of the forest. It seemed not to care as it stood out for anyone to see its vision became set as the brilliant flowers in the sky sang to collect them.

“No worries little spirits, your safe with me now.” Its reverberated voice rang out. From its left side it brought forth a lantern in the shape of a demons face almost similar to his own. A smile curled upon its lips from beneath its golden jaw plating as the Spirit Blossoms came down and closer to him. The spirits are completely unaware of what was happening when the lanterns mouth suddenly opened and began to pull all the souls into it. So many spirits to gather today, like harvesting wheat freshly cut in fact they seemed like they were. The Spirit Blossoms were fresh, very fresh, and seemed to becoming from a certain direction, interesting. Curious as to where they were coming from the demon begins to walk towards the origin of all these blossoms while gathering them a long the way. It did not take long for the purple hued evil to find the source. A battlefield, how quaint. There had been much delectable suffering and pain. Ah, if only he had heard the screams, the sweet tones of misery. As if on command of thought, the sounds of screaming and wailing called, now that was a lovely sound he could not resist. The siren sounds cried out like the most beautiful chorus and soon lead to its singers.

The bodies fell left and right as a blur of blue and darkness swooped through the poor mortals and razed them. There was no mercy, only pain just like the demon liked it. Its bright lavender eyes became transfixed at the lithe form doing a dance of death leaving blood and agony in its wake. Who was that glorious creature? It did not seem to notice the demon at the edge of the battle watching every deadly moment in awe. The dance continued for a few moments longer before the final howls of despair fluttered into nothingness. The shadow finally stops and reveals to the demon a divine looking man. He had never seen a human look so, alluring. His pale skin tattooed with dark lines that traveled from his eyes across his face, down his chest and completely engulfed his forearms. Such a lovely being, he must know more about this beauteous agent of death, no time like the present to make a blunt entrance. With a couple spins of its sickle it launches it at high speeds to the target and it snags its very soul.

Kayn is completely confused as a small scythe attached to a thick cord wraps around him. It should have been easy to cut but the cords were seemingly harder then steel and did not break, instead they pulled harder as the strangest looking fiend he’d ever seen comes flying at him. For a moment he feels panic as his powers don’t let him escape, the magic cord holds him still. No attack ever came though, just the sound of evil laughter fills his ears. He looks at the monster before him with wide eyes. What was this thing?

“How adorable, so confused and so scared. I won’t hurt you though little one. I am Thresh, collector of the Spirit Blossoms. Do not let my frightening visage fool you, I am but a humble guide to these poor spirits and bring them up to their full potential. It seems though you have found your full potential early, so tell me what are you my dear?” He coos softly. Kayn was having none of that though.

“I am Sheida Kayn, and I care not what you are monster I will not obey you!” Kayn’s scythe came barreling towards Thresh’s neck and had he been anyone else he would have been dead. The demon sighed then pulled hard on the chains sending Kayn into a tree and his scythe out of his hands.

“A feisty one aren’t you? I’m not surprised but make no mistake, I do know how to put wild spirits back in their place.” He says as he picks up the shadow assassin by the throat, pushes him against the tree and squeezes slightly. A sudden moan that catches both Kayn and Thresh off guard. A wicked grin spreads upon the demons face and Kayn seizes up. He squeezes again experimentally and again the soft moan flutters into his ears. Oh now that is a nice sound. Kayn suddenly feels fear, a feeling he had not felt in a long while, and tries to phase though the tree only to be stopped by the white cord wrapped around his waist keeping him from escaping.

“ Now, now, little pet, don’t leave so soon, we just discovered something new! Here lets make this more interesting shall we? I believe the blossoms from this field should be enough.” Suddenly the demonic lantern opens up again and the Spirit Blossoms make their way inside. It’s eyes begin to blaze and the demon removes its hand from Kayn’s throat to call upon its power. A pulse of energy burst forth from Thresh and five ghostly purple walls seemingly arise from nowhere. The more startling part wasn’t the box that surrounded them now but the fact that the demon was changing. Its dark purple skin became a light alabaster, hair a dark black with purple hues, and its horrifying mask was now replaced with a gorgeous man. It was so jarring to see something so terrifying turn into something so beautiful. Thresh smiled smugly at Kayn, no one could resist this form, perhaps now he’d get more of those lovely sounds.

“Ah, how is this? Not to bad if I do say so my self. Now where were we?” His hand returns to grasp at his neck this time though his other hand begins to graze his sharp claws down his chest. A nail catches his skin and leaves a little scratch it its wake making Kayn hiss. Thresh’s eyes glaze slightly at the sound of pain, so heavenly, he needs more. Dark purple nails trace all over Kayn’s torso leaving more cuts and scratches all over but none enough to be agonizing or lethal, Thresh is having too much fun with this one for him to die yet. Through the rough ministrations on his body Kayn’s breath had hitched and his nerves turned on to high. Every touch was doing something to him that wasn’t really pain. A tight, warm feeling starts to form in his lower abdomen. Thresh can see a redness spreading upon Kayn’s face.

“Enjoying your self? It’s rude to keep all that pleasure to yourself you know?” With unseen swiftness the small gap between them is closed and their lips are intertwined. It’s a rough and hungry kiss almost like he couldn’t get enough. Kayn had not experienced much physical affection but this was something greater then those little kisses he’d seen couples share. They are both bare chest to bare chest breathing hard into each other until Kayn could not breath. They break panting hard and Thresh’s eyes are fully glazed over and glowing deviously. In a split second his mouth is on Kayn’s exposed neck and is biting down hard. Kayn yelps loudly then goes into a deep moan as Thresh works the bite into what will be a deep dark bruise. The tight feeling rushes downward to his groin and an involuntary buck of his hips follows. The demon stops biting his neck and moves up to nip at the shell of his ear before whispering low and deep.

“Such an eager little spirit. You want me to claim you don’t you? Want me to collect your body and soul?” Kayn can’t speak the sheer amount of arousal is drowning his mind but he can feel himself nod and his hands try to pull Thresh closer. The cord unfurls its self from his waist and find new residence binding his hands instead now. Thresh raises his hands and the cord upwards to a branch to keep Kayn’s hands up.

“Yes, I know you want me but you’ll get me as I give myself to you. No sooner, no later.” He purrs lowly. With hands now bound and pinned above his head it gave the devious soul collector free reign of Kayn’s body. His talons raked across his body and mouth working anywhere that looked like a tender spot. Scratches and bruises start to decorate pale skin and leave their new owner writhing in pleasure. The firmness in his pants was agonizing, far more so then the slightly bloody cuts. Thresh was in a no better state. His normally composed visage was flustered across his face all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. His own member throbbing for attention.

Not wasting anymore time those claws were put to the test as they tore through the thick cords that held up Kayn’s pants effectively loosening and dropping them. Kayn gasps as his warm, hardened nether regions are exposed to the elements, clear fluid already seeping from the end. The demon growls deeply at the sight and is quick to rid himself of his binding clothing. Tossing them aside he strokes his manhood gently, electing a rumbling purr from his chest. Kayn can see through half lidded eyes the demons length and a shiver runs down his spine. He isn’t familiar with others genitals but he is bigger then himself by a bit and quite thick. Thresh moves in again and lifts Kayn’s hips up to line up before pushing in. Kayn’s eyes go wide at the foreign felling of being filled. He’s moaning, writhing and trying desperately to get accustomed to this new sensation. Tears start to pool and fall down his face which are then licked up by the eager demon.

“Easy now my pet, just relax. Let me handle everything.” He coos into his ear and leaves a kiss where a stray tear is falling. The pleasantries are gone in moments though as Thresh begins to move. The pace starts slow but then begins to build and soon its a quick relentless pace that leaves Kayn completely breathless. His whole body feels limp as if all his strength has left him, the strength of the demon alone is the only thing keeping him up. Every harsh thrust seems to hit a spot that has his eyes rolling back and him moaning and gasping loudly. The sounds and the sensation of Kayn tightening around him sends Thresh on a marking spree, covering as much skin as he can into deep colors. It’s all so much for Kayn and in a moment of bliss his sight blurs and he can finally feel himself release. He can hear a deep animalistic growl and for a few seconds his hips are grabbed so hard he swore the bone would bruise as Thresh rams into him sending Kayn’s blurred vision into pure white and his hearing completely gone. The whole world fades for who knows how long before his vision is restored and the demon is slowly pulling out of him. He now hangs there on the tree limply, unable to will his now exhausted muscles to move even an inch. A whine escapes him as Thresh fixes himself up.

“Now, now, I know you miss me. I’ll get to you in a moment.” He places his clothing back into place and almost seems like nothing happened to him at all. He goes to the side of the tree and binds the forgotten scythe to his back before coming around and pulling Kayn’s pants back up. As soon as the cord to the sickle is removed Kayn drops like a rock right into Thresh’s arms. His body is too weak to fight him off and lets his head lull onto the demons shoulder. He smiles down at the tired human in his arms and places a small kiss upon his crown.

“You may rest now dear. I won’t let anything happen to you. Your mine now you know, nothing will take you from me and you certainly won’t get away from me from now on. So get used to being where you are for your going to be there for the rest of eternity.” He says all too gleefully while holding him tightly. Kayn thinks for a moment of what he’s done. He’s now bound to a soul taking demon, but a soul taking demon that has given him more attention in about an hour then he’s received in his entire life. Thats not entirely to bad he thinks. He looks up at the handsome face that looks down at him with a smirk and dips down to place another kiss, this time to his lips, that’s most certainly something he could get used to.

#Kayn #Thresh #Spirit Blossom Thresh #Shadow Assassin Kayn #League of Legends

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

Text

Eidolon 3 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr.

Chapter 3: Worries

"Sam… can you run this by me again?" he asked as he stopped searching for a moment and glanced at her. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Her response was a roll of the eyes. "I thought we went over this already… Don't you want to know what we saw last night?"

"I don't!" Tucker voiced, causing the two of them to look at him. "What? That thing was scary! For all we know, it could still be out here, and I for one, have no desire to see it again!"

"Why, aren't we brave?" The sarcasm in Sam's voice spoke volumes. In an almost immediate response, Tucker covered his head with his arms. Apparently, that tone was a verbal warning of the threat of pain. Sam could apparently be rather scary when she felt like it.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me! I just want to keep my good looks safe for the ladies! Besides, you're the one with the grudge!"

That answer just seemed to anger Sam more. "How selfish can you get? You don't even care that other people could be in danger?" Though it was true that she had sworn her vengeance on whatever they had seen, rational seemed to have come back to her in the hours after the chase. She currently just wanted to know who or what that was.

"I do… except, in my book, I come first! Besides, shouldn't this be a job for the police instead?"

"Like they're going to believe a couple of kids. We'll probably be the ones to get in trouble if we say anything. They only take it seriously if we find some kind of proof."

Danny stayed silent as he watched their fight continue. Sam did have a point; whatever it was that they had seen the night before could potentially be dangerous to anyone in the area. It also seemed unlikely that the police would believe them, since they would probably just pass it off as some kind of animal, which it definitely was not! However, he sided more with Tucker. If it wasn't for Sam's persuasiveness (aka threats), there was no way that he would have come back to the cemetery for quite some time.

He glanced around the familiar surroundings and shivered slightly. It was only about one in the afternoon, but it felt like it was much later. The shadows appeared more pronounced, the statues looked corrupted, and the air seemed stale and heavy. It was almost as if that thing's presence had managed to taint the area.

Even though he really did not believe in the so-called paranormal, there was definitely something demonic about that creature. That thought caused him to sigh. He was being silly. There was probably a very logical explanation for what he and his friends had seen. It was probably just some drifter or psychopath… which is just as comforting.

In truth, he would rather just forget about the incident and chalk it up as a bizarre situation that he never wanted to ever deal with again. He had also made a promise to himself to never again sneak out of his house at night; being scared half to death was so not worth it. However, he had this sinking suspicion that Sam was going to make him break that. Speaking of which…

"What…?" he asked after he realized that she had asked him something. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Jeez, Danny, get your head out of the clouds." Judging by her expression and the fact that Tucker was hiding rather poorly behind a nearby bush, they had stopped arguing for the time being. "I just wanted to know if you had managed to get home okay last night. I mean, you didn't get in trouble or anything, did you? I kinda forgot to ask earlier."

He frowned for a moment. "Surprisingly… no," he replied before giving them a sheepish grin. "I… uh… fell when I snuck back through my window. If you haven't already noticed, I'm kinda klutzy. Winston's use to that, but it's a little weird for me to fall at night. If he did wake up, I guess he assumed I fell off the bed again."

Sam shook her head. "Again…?"

"I don't do it often!" he replied in an embarrassed protest. "Just a couple times a year!"

"And that makes it so much better."

"Um, I don't mean to pry or anything," Tucker interrupted as he came over. Apparently, he now thought it was safe for him to come out of hiding, though he did make sure that he was out of Sam's punching range. "But, why do you call your dad by his first name?"

That question earned another sheepish look. "Well… um… I'm actually adopted. Winston's been my guardian for as long as I can remember. Apparently, my parents had asked him to take care of me if anything would happen to them…" He sounded wistful for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench. Raising his head, he glanced at them while wearing an expression that was unreadable. "I… I really don't know what happened to them. Winston's not very comfortable with the topic."

After a small pause, Sam glared at Tucker, who cringed. "Tucker! How could you bring that up?" she demanded as she moved closer to him.

"Sorry!" He immediately backed away from her as he raised his hands again. "I didn't know!"

That caused Danny to chuckle, which caused both of them to look at him. "It's okay, really! I don't mind. Let's just go back to searching before Tucker gets hurt."

"Tucker likes that idea!"

Sam glared at the nervous boy for a moment before poked him in the chest, "Fine, but this doesn't mean that you're off the hook."

….

"Sam!" Tucker whined about an hour later. "Let's call it a day! We haven't found anything! And besides, we promised Danny yesterday that we'd show him around."

Once again, Danny agreed with him. There were definitely less boring activities than failing miserably at finding anything. They had found nothing! It was as if there was absolutely nothing to even suggest that there had even been something other than him in this part of the graveyard within the last day. It was definitely frustrating since there was a small part of him that did want proof that he hadn't just imagined last night. Even if Sam and Tucker had seen it, maybe it had been some weird group hallucination. He had heard those were possible.

Sam glanced around again and gave a frustrated huff before she kicked the ground. "I guess you're right… even if I don't want you to be. I guess we should lea… Hey, what's that?" She pointed at something before she sprinted over to whatever it was that she had seen.

He and Tucker shared a look before they followed her. By the time they had reached her, she had picked up what appeared to be a piece of paper and was examining it. Apparently, it contained either an image or word that was holding her interest.

"Um… Sam… what… oomf!" Danny's words were cut off when Sam shoved the paper into his hands. "What the heck?"

She glared at him while she impatiently tapped her foot. "Just look at it!"

After giving her a look, he complied. At first, the only thing that caught his attention was that he was holding a rather old piece of paper. That normally would not be too weird since littering was unfortunately common, but this paper wasn't just weathered, but it also had a strange feel as if it was more along the lines of canvas than actual paper. He then noticed that there were black marks on it, which he realized was a sketch of what appeared to be some sort of figure.

He turned the paper a bit to see if he could get a better feel for the picture. It appeared to be an ink sketch of what he took to be a demonic figure with… possibly flaming hair. After a moment, he also realized that there seemed to be writing on the top of the paper, but the letters were too faded for him to make out.

"So… what do you think?" Sam asked after he had handed the paper to Tucker.

"Not much," he replied with a shrug. "Sure, it's creepy enough, but I don't think it's related to this. Papers find their way here all the time. Possibly someone lost it out of their sketchbook a while back."

She just shook her head. "Danny, I tend to do a bit of sketching myself… That's not a type of paper, if it is paper, that you commonly use. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I've never seen it before."

"Sam, you're probably over thinking things. I really don't think that it's anything out of the ordinary," Tucker told her as he gave it back to her. He then glanced at Danny and grinned. "Although Sam's usually pretty level-headed, she sometimes lets her love of anything weird run away with her."

"Take that back!"

"In this case, I don't think I will."

"Would you still say that if you weren't standing behind me?" Danny asked as he tried to turn to get a look at his friend.

Tucker gave him a serious look. "Dude, have you seen her boots? They hurt! Oh… alright." After receiving another glare, he gave up on hiding and looked over at the still irritated goth. "If it will make you happy, I'll try to find some information on it when I get home. Though, to be absolutely honest, I'm fairly certain that picture's nothing more than the product of someone's deranged… oh, I mean artistic… mind."

Try as she might, Sam couldn't resist chuckling at his comment. "Thanks. If anyone could find something, it would be you."

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Sure, I noticed. It's your only redeeming quality."

"Hey!"

"Sorry to interrupt another one of your fights," he told them as he raised an eyebrow. Their "play" arguments were throwing him for a loop. How was it possible they were still friends if that happened as commonly as it seemed? "But, am I missing something?"

Sam laughed as she waved him off with her hand. "Don't mind us. Both of us keep forgetting that you don't know any of this yet. Although he might not look like it, Tucker's amazing with technology. I swear that he could honestly bring down a satellite with that PDA of his." She then glanced over at the boy who had brought out said PDA and had begun checking it in a strangely loving fashion. "I'm actually surprised that he didn't mention it yesterday. Perhaps he was trying not to scare you way."

After a moment she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Come on! We should leave now before he starts trying to induct you into his technologic world…"

xxxxx

The door slammed which let him know that his charge was finally home. If it was any other day, he would have actually gone to greet the boy, but this was not the case. He was currently stuck on the phone listening to someone who was irritating him more and more with each passing second. Even though he was usually a patient man, it was taking all of his self control to not raise his voice at her.

"Ma'am, I understand the consequences," he told the voice on the phone tiredly as he tried to wrap up the conversation, "But I assure you, that not only am I acting on his parents' wishes, but that I am also taking very good care of him."

What the woman said next absolutely enraged him. "That remains to be seen!" was his indigent reply. "Please reserve your judgments until you or one of your people come to do that review. Now, have a good day." The woman had tried to respond, but he cut her off by slamming the phone. Those people were so tiring, but that one really knew what to say to get under his skin.

"Uh… is everything okay in here…?" Danny asked carefully as he appeared in the kitchen. His expression clearly said that he hoped that he was not in trouble.

Winston sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he sat down. "It's really nothing too important, just another call from the state. Apparently, they're now attempting to use scare tactics." He then looked at the boy and tried to smile, "So, how was your day?"

Danny shrugged as he too grabbed a seat. "Sam and Tucker showed me around town some more, and we hit the arcade for a bit before Tucker had to head home. We're going to try to get together again in a couple days."

"That's good…"

"Um… are you sure you're okay?"

He sighed as he looked up at the boy who seemed worried about the absent-minded response he had recieved. "Yeah… I guess I let them get to me more than I had thought. Anyways, how does pizza sound for dinner?"

"That sounds great!" Danny then got up and headed towards the hall. "I'm going to be in my room for a while."

"That's fine." Winston then got up and picked up the phone again. After calling the pizza place, he headed into the study and tried to relax.

Why was in the world was that man getting involved in this? He had heard the rumors that the man had begun to involve certain aspects of his many companies in some of the state cases, but until that call he did not believe that they were actually true. Due to the money that those companies held, it was going to much more difficult than he had originally thought to keep Danny. Not only that, but the head of those companies, Vlad Masters himself, had personally become interested.

According to that woman, he claimed to be a friend of Danny's parents. If that was the case, why didn't they ask him to take the boy? But, that was beside the point. Even though the man was well-respected, there was something that just did not sit right with Winston. Sure, he might be a business genius, but he had gained way too much power too quickly. There were rumors that those gains had not been made above the table, and Winston believed that they were true.

It was also known that the man was not above using underhanded tactics in court. If this case did end up going that far… there was no telling what that man might reveal. Danny's story was complicated, and even though he had done what was asked of him, it was unlikely that a jury would see it the same way, especially with how unbelievable the story really was. Most likely, Masters would corrupt the tale, making it even worse.

Then there was Danny to think about. While it's true that he had not be entirely forthcoming with what had actually happened, he had planned on revealing everything on his upcoming birthday. However, with the current mess, he was unsure what precisely to do. If he was to wait and the boy was told a corrupted story, it would most likely shatter his world. He could not let that happen, but he did not want to add stress to him, especially since there had been no indication it was true…

A sudden crash followed by a yell immediately got him out of his seat. That was….? What was that? He stood still for a moment trying to figure out from where the noise had originated when he realized that had been Danny's voice. Sure, the boy did have a tendency to trip, but there was no way that was normal.

He immediately ran to boy's room and opened the door. "Danny! Are you all right? I heard a crash!" He looked around expecting the boy to be near his chair or bed, but instead he was on the floor, plastered against the wall. His piercing blue eyes were wide and frightened.

Worried, he kneeled beside the boy, placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, and gently shook him. Unfortunately, he still did not get a response as Danny was still staring at something. His military instincts kicked in, causing him to tense and glance around the room looking for anything that was out of place. After a moment, he realized that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he still kept himself prepared potential surprise.

"Danny…" he whispered harshly to his charge as he continued to watch, "what happened?"

There was no sound until he heard Danny take a deep breath and move. He looked back to see the boy leaning his head against the wall. His breathing was still heavy, but it looked like the worst of the shock of whatever had happened was beginning to wear off. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously as he glanced around again.

"Huh…?" the boy's voice was startled. Had he only just realized that he had come into the room? "Wh-what's going on?"

"Are you hurt?" he asked as he knelt down again. "Did something happen? Did you see something weird?"

At the last question, his charge tensed and glanced at his hand as if he was examining it. After a moment, he hesitantly looked back at him and shook his head. "I… I'm fine, but what's with the twenty questions?"

He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "Really? Daniel, I heard a crash and a yell from you. I was worried," he told him as he helped him to his feet. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

This time, he was answered with a nod. "I'm fine… I just … fell off the chair... and managed to knock some of the stuff off my desk…" Danny cringed slightly when he realized how weak sounding his excuse was. He then became more animated and began to push the older man towards the door. "I promise! I'm perfectly fine! N-nothing's wrong! Just give me a few minutes to clean up everything, and I'll be right out! The pizza's supposed to be here shortly, right?"

Before Winston even had a chance to attempt to get a word in, Danny shoved him out of the room and slammed to door. He remained there, a little stunned for a few moments. Whatever had happened definitely spooked the boy, it was probably nothing like he had said… but he could not help but wonder. A normal fall like that should not be so frightening.

He took another glance at the door before he headed back into the kitchen. Maybe he should watch the boy a little more closely, just in case.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #fanfic #fanfiction #dp au #danny fenton #phandom #dp #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #supernatural #fantasy #Eidolon

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lethbians · 4 years

Note

how about a reddie barn party?

“a barn party?”

“yeah.”

“well what is it?”

mike looks at stan. stan looks at bill. bill, wide-eyed, looks back and forth between the two of them.

“it’s… a party. in a barn.” stan speaks slowly, though the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying desperately not to smile.

“well i nuh-know that,” bill says in exasperation, and mike lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and laughs, relieved. he knows bill is smart, he knows—the good grades and power essays will prove it—but sometimes bill’s brain cells took vacations. sometimes bill would write the coolest shit in creative writing class: the kinda shit that mike and bev and richie (so, by proxy, eddie as well) liked to read. horror stories, like the slasher films the losers stayed up to watch (ben and stan preferred anything but horror), though bill has a habit of adding corny romantic subplots that appealed more to ben than anyone else. bill would write those, would blow the whole loser’s club away with those, and then turn around and introduce himself as dilliam benbrough.

his braincells took vacations, but they always came back.

“i meant what is it fuh-for?”

mike shrugs. “for fun.”

“why, do you have other plans that day, bill?” stan crosses his arms, and bill grins.

“i’m in. on wuh-one condition.”

* * *

“are you kidding me?” eddie scowls. “cowboy attire mandatory?”

“i don’t know why you’re complaining, eds; it’s your fantasy come true. i have two words for you, bro.” richie strikes a pose and the sound of his hand slapping against his thigh is too loud in the small space of the clubhouse. “assless. chaps.”

“take it back, bill, please.” eddie looks at bill helplessly, but bill’s too busy flipping through a Sears catalogue to see it.

“shuh-should i get classic brown leather style boots? or should i g-go for a buh-bold black instead?”

bev leans over his shoulder and points to an image on the sheet, her nail polish still wet. “these. they’ll match that plaid you got at the thrifty mart today.”

eddie turns to mike, eyes desperate, but mike just shrugs.

“i’ve been looking for a reason to wear my cowboy hat. sorry eddie.”

richie slaps his thigh again and raises his eyebrows suggestively at eddie. “c’mon cowboy. saddle up, eddie, we’re goin’ full gay cowboy. wanna share a tent with m—.”

eddie, red with fury (and flushed with embarrassment) punches richie’s shoulder. richie cackles, and cackles, until eddie’s pout twists like he’s holding back his own giggles; until stan turns to mike with a flat look and asks if they can be uninvited.

“we need eight to square dance, stan.”

eddie stops mid-tousle with richie and squawks. “we have to dance?”

bill looks up from his magazine and sighs. “it’s a barn party eddie.”

eddie flips him off, and this time they all laugh.

* * *

“oh my god.”

“wow.”

“holy shit, benny boy!” richie puts his hands on his hips and slowly turns in a circle, surveying the empty barn. “you out-fuckin’-did yourself, now!”

“richie tozier!” calls a warning voice from the corner, and jessica hanlon gives him the stink eye from thirty feet away. “you watch your mouth while i’m around.”

richie holds up an apologetic hand, though his mouth quivers with the shadow of a smile. “you got it, mrs. h!”

“nice, richie,” bev smirks. she turns to ben. “seriously ben, this place looks incredible.”

the lights were the hardest part: stringing them up in the rafters, wrapping them around the old wood and across the walls… ben had suffered his share of splinters and spider encounters. it’s a big barn too, and ben’s hands were sweaty from the early june heatwaves (and nerves from the spider encounters). but he’d managed, with the help of mike and his uncle, and now the whole barn was strung with fairy lights and chinese lanterns.

“it’s dreamy,” bev says, looking ben in the eye as she does. “romantic.”

ben goes as crimson as the barn and looks at his feet.

“thanks bev.”

“are you guys gonna’ help set-up or just stand there like raisins on a celery stick?” jessica stands behind the group now, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. “your poor friend is struggling over there and you all are looking at the lights like a bunch of moths.”

mike turns to where bill’s currently putting up the big banner he and bev painted. well, trying to put up the banner. actually, struggling is really the word he’s looking for. every time bill would get one side taped up he’d walk to the other, but just as he’d get that corner taped down the first side would fall again. mike bites his lip and tries not to smile too wide.

they all stand there for another few seconds, watching bill continue to struggle, before mike shakes his head and jogs over to help.

“oh!” bill says as mike pressed his palm to the paper to keep it up as bill fought with the tape dispenser. “th-thanks, mikey.”

“no problem, bill.” mike watches bill attempt to rip the tape with his teeth. “are you going to the barn party with anyone?”

bill pauses, looks up at mike with the strip of tape still in his mouth. “uhh. the rest of yuh-you guys?”

“i meant as a date.” mike’s face is perfectly calm, but the cage of his rib bones shakes noisily with the thumping of his heart. “are you, you know, going with anyone?”

bill starts fighting with the tape again. “uh, n-no.”

“do you want to go with me?”

bill manages to rip off the tape he needs, and finally secures the poster. mike steps back cautiously from the wall, just in case it decides to fall again. nothing moves. mike looks back to bill, who still hasn’t answered.

“yes. yuh-yeah.” bill smiles, a soft thing, and nods. “that’d be awesome, mikey.”

“cool,” mike says, feeling very, very cool. “very cool.”

* * *

“whoa, eds, slow down—eddie, damn, what’re you running for?” richie’s keeping up pretty easily with his long legs and therefore long strides, but eddie’s practically jogging at this point and soon richie’s going to have to do the same. “what’s goin’ on, cowboy?”

“don’t cowboy me,” eddie grumbles, his boots making a little click click with every step as the fake spurs tapped against the sidewalk.

richie stops. “eds, are you mad at me?” eddie’s still walking, albeit a little slower now. “eddie.”

“i’m not mad!” eddie says, madly, though he stops walking too. “i’m just. i’m. ugh!” eddie makes a little noise of frustration and richie tries desperately not to feel so fucking fond about it. “why didn’t you ask me to go with you to the barn party?”

if richie wasn’t already frozen to the spot, that would’ve knocked him out cold. “wh… what? whaddya mean? i’m here, with you, right— “

“but you didn’t ask. you just showed up unannounced like you always do.”

“well yeah that’s just how it is—”

“but why didn’t you ask?” eddie turns, sparks of red on high cheekbones turned orange in the lamplight. he looks like a puppy, ears turned down and big brown eyes hiding sadness under the brow of anger that covered it. the pieces clicked together in richie’s head.

“oh. ohhh. i get it.” richie shoves his hands in his pockets. “you wanted to be romanced.”

“that is not what i said.”

richie takes a few steps forward. “you wanted me to get down on one knee and lend you my kerchief as an invite to the debutante ball.” richie, playing up the western twang he’s taken on, over-pronounces every syllable in debutante. eddie scoffs to hide the beginning of a laugh.

“shut up richie, i was just saying—“

“well, mistah edward j. kaspbrak—

“don’t call me that.”

“— would you do me the honor of bein’ my pardner—“

“i hate you.”

“and accompanyin’ me to the hanlon barn party so i don’t haf’ta ride solo tonight?”

richie’s got his hand cupped under eddie’s chin by now, and the other arm curled loosely around eddie’s waist. in the early twilight glow, richie’s eyes shine with amusement and something else; something that’s always wrapped in every glance sent eddie’s way. love, probably, though eddie’s still scared to say it and richie’s no better. sometimes richie knows he’s in love but he also knows he was in love last year, and the year before, and the year before that one, and every year that goes by richie’s love feels deeper and stronger and real-er. richie used to think love was a peak at the top of a mountain of feelings but being with eddie has him thinking that maybe it isn’t, that maybe love is just a mountain and richie never wants to stop climbing.

“yes, asshole, of course i want to go to the barn party with you.” eddie’s not even trying to look angry anymore. richie wants to kiss him, and he goes to do so, but the oversized rims of their cowboy hats bump together and it makes them both laugh.

“gay cowboys sure have it rough, huh?” richie asks. “let’s try that again.” then he tilts his hat back, leans down, and kisses Eddie properly.

* * *

the lights looked good in the day, but they look downright magical in the dark of night. there’s still a purple tint to the sky, leftover from the stretched out sunset, and though there’s no cracks in the roof to see the stars through, they cast a foggy glow on the grass outside.

the music is loud, but not too loud, and cheerful, but not overtly so. dancing music, is what it is, and most people are inside making the most out of it. stan’s in there with patty, mike knows—he’d seen them spinning circles around everyone else. mike knows for a fact stan doesn’t take dancing lessons, but the way he and patty swing and dance with such ease and grace makes you think it was practiced. mike just thinks that true love shows in the way you move together. you can always see it in the way people dance. it’s about… well, richie and eddie have it too, and richie’s got two left feet and a tragic lack of the “being able to take things seriously” bone.

it’s in the way they look at each other, though, the way eddie’s face pulls into a joyous adoration when richie spins him around the room obnoxiously even though he’s telling richie to put me down, put me down! it’s in the way bev brushes her fingers against ben’s when he hands her a cup of punch, and the way ben’s knee lingers when bev’s knee rests against his where they sit on the bench; like every touch is infinite, and worth every second. it’s in the way stan holds patty as they dance, like she’s something to be held, and the way patty holds him just the same.

fuck, mike knows he’s only eighteen, but he knows what love, true love, looks like.

“the p-party is inside,” bill says. an adjacent thought to mike’s last, suddenly here before him: bill, in all his plaid and leather fringe glory. mike’s heart, a racehorse poised at the startling line, takes off.

“i needed a break from the line dancing. your mom is kicking my ass.” it’s true. ms. denbrough sure knows how to country-shake it.

“she was muh-more excited for this than i was,” bill jokes, and then walks the rest of the way from the barn to the edge of the field where mike is standing.

“you look good.” it’s a bit sudden, maybe, but that thought evaporates when bill lights up with a shy smile. “the cowboy look suits you.”

“thuh-thanks, mikey.” bill’s hand twitches, like he’s going to reach out, but it stays at his side. “your shirt. it’s a g-good shirt.”

nice one, denbrough. bill makes a face.

“i mean yuh-you look strong it it. i mean, handsome. and strong, tuh-too.” bill’s bright pink, and mike couldn’t think him any cuter. “yuh-you know what i mean.”

“i wear this shirt all the time,” mike says, just to see if bill will flush darker. he does.

“yuh-yeah, i know.”

mike’s eyes flick to the barn and back. out here, the music is muffled, but mike can still tell hear andy williams crooning his familiar tune from the speakers inside.

“do you want to dance with me, bill?”

bill’s hand twitches again. “out here?”

mike nods. bill nods, and mike bets his heart is knocking against his ribs just as hard as the one in mike’s chest. mike offers his hand, and bill takes it, and the next moment mike’s got bill denbrough against his chest as they sway to the easy beat of moon river.

it’s in the way bill steps on my feet, mike thinks. it’s in the way he apologizes every time, even when i just laugh and promise him it’s okay. it’s in the way he keeps apologizing, cheeks flushed and hands curled around mike’s arms, until mike kisses him quiet.

it’s in the way that mike’s only eighteen, but he knows what love, true love, feels like.

#reddie #hanbrough #richie tozier #those r the focus but theres also uhhh #benverly #stanpat #but they're on the side sorry #my writing #thank u 4 this i wrote like a madman for 40 minutes #Anonymous

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colonel-insomniac · 4 years

Text

Heather— Conan Gray

And we are back! sorry for the long wait, i graduated, I’m getting ready to start uni, ive been a little busy. Anyways, read other Spongebob One-shots HERE and if its a while before i release another one, pls read my book The Other Planet HERE because I aim to publish it after rewriting. "I still remember, third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you…"

Bobby was slumped in a chair, chin resting on an arm that was propped up by a cafeteria table. Prom was a bust, that's really all he had discovered tonight.

Everyone always says prom is a magical night, and bonds are formed that will never break, and maybe Bobby is being a little over dramatic about this, but this dance turned out to be a total waste of seventy-five bucks.

Truthfully, he'd wanted to be asked to prom, and by Patrick. But when it became clear that wasn't happening, his mom had insisted he still go, despite his lamenting about not wanting to. She'd promised him that he would later wish he had gone. Bobby supposed it would be better than being sprawled on the couch, watching movies.

Now, however, all he wished to do was watch movies. Since he'd walked through the doors of the high school gym, Bobby had a flighty feeling gnawing at his insides. And he knew it was heartwarming when Pat walked through the doors with his mom, but he couldn't help wishing he was walking through that entrance with Patrick.

Bobby had ducked into the bathroom—accidentally into the girls first, where they asked why he looked upset after their initial shock—the boy's bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall, and sat for a couple minutes.

His heart was beating fast, so he pulled out his phone and played some Subway Surfer's in an attempt to calm down. It was just Pat after all, his best friend for life. There was no reason to be nervous.

And that's when he wound up at this table. He'd weaved his way through the throng of dancing kids, chatting with a couple of them before moving on. Bobby had managed to catch a couple of glances at Patrick, who was seated at a table with his mom. But they weren’t talking, he was looking around with a frown.

“Only if you knew, how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by…”

Bobby had a sneaking suspicion that Patrick liked Sandy, a really smart Texan. He had no proof of this, of course, besides how much they seemed to hang out these days. Bobby felt bad about that thought. She’s not a bad person, Sandy, that is. She’s really smart, and shes’ pretty, and nice, and all good things. But Bobby had been missing his best friend recently. He’d tried talking to Edward—or Eddie, as Bobby called him, despite Edward’s scowls—but it was evident that the tall, clarinet playing, art adept boy was consumed with work, and consequently had no time to talk.

Bobby had sat down in the chair he’s now in, spinning stories out of the pattern on the table to keep himself occupied. Even he was aware how pitiful that sounded. Sandy and Edward had come up to him, separately of course, and chatted for a bit each. He’d grinned when Eddie voluntarily sat next to him, but Eddie had made sure Bobby knew he was only talking to him tonight because of how Bobby had been one of the few to treat him kindly. At that, Bobby’s mouth fell open in shock. Eddie was such a fun person to be around in his opinion. He’s going to have to talk with people and tell them how awesome Eddie is.

Bobby half listens to what Eddie is telling him, nodding his head in agreement as he thinks of how he can help the talented man. Soon enough, Edward decides he’s talked enough, and excuses himself. That’s when Sandy practically leapt out of the almost non-existent shadows, nearly giving Bobby a heart attack. He jumps a little, and Sandy smiles, apologizing for startling him. “You? Scare me? No, no, I was just getting up!” Bobby tries, knowing that Sandy knows it’s a lie.

“What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she’s got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Mhm, sure.” Sandy gives him a knowing look. “Why are ya camped out here anyhow?” Bobby shrugs, not wanting to explain. “Patrick has been lookin’ for ya, he seems worried ‘bout somethin’.” Bobby looks away, feeling guilty.

The ever-perceptive girl takes note of the expression on Bobby’s face, and in one motion, pulls out a chair and sits down. Bobby keeps his head tilted towards the table, hoping she won’t want him to talk about it. “Now, what’s wrong Bobby? You’ve been actin’ stranger than a cow dancin’ at a disco rodeo.” Bobby’s eyebrows scrunch together, a little confused by the saying, but then he shakes his head and thinks up a response.

He shrugs, “Nothing, I just don’t wanna be here anymore.” Sandy’s own eyebrows shoot up, and she asks what he means by that.

“Why would you ever kiss me, I’m not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater it's just polyester, but you like her better, wish I were Heather…”

Bobby lifts his shoulder again, not sure of what to say or how to say it. He blows air out, watching a strand of his hair float up and fall down again while he thinks. Sandy see the discomfort on his face, and drags him outside, into the quiet. The air out here fills Bobby’s lungs, pleasantly warm. It smells like spring, hope, rebirth, renewal. “Now talk.” She orders, and he has no choice but to admire her persistence.

“I kinda like Pat.” It’s a low whisper, and Sandy’s face brightens. Bobby frowns. “What’re you smiling about?”

Sandy quickly irons out her face, assuring him that there’s nothing going on, gesturing for him to continue. “But I think he likes you, not me.” Bobby stares hard at a tree, watching as the moonlight pokes through the holes in the leaves.

Sandy makes a sound in the back of her throat, and Bobby can’t quite place an emotion to the sound. “He’s a great guy, I would know, I did spend the past 17 years of my life with him.” Bobby continues, turning to Sandy and plastering a bright, fake smile on his face as he grabs her hands. “Pat’s a lot of fun to be around, he’s also really soft.” Bobby stares up and away from Sandy, trying to keep his emotions under control.

“Bobby, you’ve got it all wrong—” Sandy starts, and Bobby numbly thinks how she does look pretty ethereal right now, and kinda all the time. How could someone not like her?

“Watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder…”

“Trust me, Sandy, it’s okay. If you like him too, you should tell him. You guys will…have a lot of fun together.” He’s trying to work himself up to be happy. He should be happy for the two anyways.

He hardly hears himself as he continues on, rambling, Sandy watching him with eyes that keep getting wider. It’s when he’s starting to turn to go back inside, and turning her too, that Sandy seems to snap out of her shock, and grabs Bobby’s shoulders. “Listen Bobby,” Bobby opens his mouth to ask something, confused, but Sandy shakes her head, so he nods. “You gotta trust me on this one. Pat doesn’t like me. I know who he likes, and this person is at this party. Patrick’s plannin’ on tellin’ them tonight, so you oughta at least go and see him.” Bobby shakes his head, once, before Sandy frowns at him. “He’s itchin’ to talk to you, been missin’ you all night, and y’all are both actin’ pretty dang stupid.” Bobby’s too confused, puzzling over that last part, and before he can protest it, Sandy’s grabbed his hand, and drags him inside.

“But how could I hate her? She's such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead, as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky, she's got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Sandy…” That’s all Bobby can get out. The cold of the air condition raises goosebumps on his arms, and okay, maybe that isn’t the only reason. Because now, he’s going to be face to face with Patrick, and only Sandy knows why she’s doing this.

He didn’t think he was wrong though, about Patrick liking Sandy. But now that she’s said that it isn’t her, Bobby feels almost like he’s been thrown into an existential crisis. His stomach clenches, and he desperately tries to stall by any means necessary, but Sandy doesn’t buy any of the excuses he’s giving her. She just tells Bobby to trust him and keeps moving.

Bobby sees Pat sitting with his mom. His back is towards Sandy and Bobby, but he nods his head at whatever his mom says. Sandy deposits Bobby in a corner, and tells him to “wait there and don’t move,” before making her way over to the pair.

He debates slipping away, now that Sandy’s back is turned, but he’s frozen instead, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of him. From what he can see, Sandy puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder, greeting his mom, who smiles at her. Patrick’s looking up at her, and she briefly addresses him before pulling him up. Bobby’s heart is beating wildly in his body, and he swallows as Sandy brushes off the shoulders of Pat’s suit before leading him toward Bobby.

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better, I wish I were Heather…”

Patrick catches sight of Bobby before the pair is in front of him, and Bobby finds himself mesmerized by Patrick. When they stop, Sandy waits for a beat or two, and exits, aiming a pointed glance at Bobby, the meaning of which he is able to immediately decipher. She’s telling him to confess. That thought sends him into a state of panic, and he blushes, not sure what to do or say.

“Hey.” Is the first thing to come out of his mouth, and he considers literally face-palming. Instead, however, Bobby watches Patrick’s face scrunch up.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Bobby flinches at the emotion underneath the question. He never meant to hurt Patrick, never thought he was.

But now he knows better. “I thought you liked Sandy, I was trying to stay out of the way so you could tell her.” Pat looks taken aback by Bobby’s confession.

“I don’t….” Pat starts to say something, but trails off, looking slightly confused.

Bobby breathes in, stomach knotting and unknotting over and over as he debates saying it. He closes his eyes. “I like you.” Those three words stop everything. Bobby’s mind goes still, and he knows it’s impossible, but he swears it feels as though his heart has stopped.

His hands drop to his sides—funny, he didin’t remember lifting them to begin with— and looks to the side, away from Patrick. He struggles—and fails—to keep a couple of tears from escaping, and he brushes them off, sniffing. “It’s okay, though. You should talk to the person you like.” He starts to back away, back hitting the wall behind him.

“Wish I were Heather, wish I were Heather…”

“Bobby, you should’ve told me—” Pat starts, grabbing the shorter of the two and wraps his arms around Bobby. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you that I liked you.”

Bobby’s confused. Patrick likes him? “Wait what?” Bobby smartly asks. Patrick breathes in, and exhales before responding. Bobby supposes he’s thinking about what to say.

“I like you too. I’ve been hanging out with Sandy to get advice on how to tell you. I–we—eventually decided I should do it tonight, at prom.” Bobby doesn’t realize how tightly he’s holding onto Patrick, he’s too focused on listening to what’s being said.

He breathes in, and is surrounded by the scent of Patrick, Hot Topic’s Sugar Cookie scent. Bobby knows Pat would never admit to shopping there, so around the holidays, when they release the scent, Bobby buys a ton for Pat just in case he should run out. “I would never just stop hanging out with you.”

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty…”

“Sorry,” Bobby mutters, knowing Pat will hear it. “I should’ve asked if everything was alright instead of assuming and hiding. Especially since we've been best friends since birth."

Patrick shakes his head, and after a minute, both feel as though the hug has branched into the awkward category.

Bobby decides it's probably rude to not say hi to Patrick's mom, and when he brings that up to Pat, his best friend (who likes him back?) offers an arm with a goofy grin. Bobby takes this in stride, placing his hand on the inside of Patrick's elbow, trying to match with an equally enthusiastic grin. The pair set off towards the table Mrs. Starr is sitting at, finding Sandy chatting with her.

"Hey Mrs. Starr! Hey-a Sandy." Bobby leans down to hug Patrick's mother.

"Bobby and I were gonna dance." He tugs Bobby over to the floor, and Bobby waves at the two, sending a smile their way.

"Pat, I can't dance." Bobby mutters, but he wraps his arms around Patrick's neck anyways. In return, the taller of the two places his hands at Bobby's waist, tentatively, as though not sure whether Bobby was fine with it.

The contact sent a shiver down Bobby's back, stepping closer to Patrick. "Sure you can, anyone can dance, really." Patrick snorts softly, and Bobby elects to leave the matter, leaning his head on Pat's shoulder.

"You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester..."

"So," Pat begins saying something, and Bobby peacefully listens. "Would you like to go with me tomorrow and get ice cream in the park?” Bobby leans away, playfully grinning at Pat.

“Is that a date?” Bobby laughs a little, knowing the answer already. Pat punches Bobby lightly on the shoulder.

“You know it is.” Bobby can’t resist leaning up on his toes and placing a chaste kiss on Patrick’s cheek. When he pulls back, he’s delighted to see the faint pink blush on his companion’s cheek.

And if anyone were to ask him, he definitely did not squeal when Patrick picked him up and spun him around.

“But you like her better, wish I were…”

#patbob #spongerick #spongebob #patrick #sandy #mr krabs #squidward #spongebob the musical

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.3

The Mission

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2700

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Mission in progress; You’re going in. Spoiler alert: it goes about as well as Steve expected.

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, banter, unconsensual drug use (kinda?), injury

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

“Alright, guys. We’re clear about everything? I’m coming in first, opening the door for you. Natasha, you’re with Clint, you’re going after Vasiliev and intel. Frosty and Daredevil are onto the girls and their guards. Tony, try to get to the basement level, I’ll join you as soon as possible. Questions?”

“Won’t Secretary Davis be pissed about Frostbite coming to save his daughter instead of Captain America?” you noted, a bit annoyed that you actually had to ask that question. You couldn’t care less and you were actually fine with your task, but… sadly, this was politics too, not just a rescue mission.

Steve sighed. “I’m the leader of the mission. I’ll be everywhere, that has to be enough.”

“What’s in the basement?” Clint questioned and you could see a shadow of worry covering Steve’s face as he put on his helmet.

“I don’t know. And I don’t like it. That’s why I’m sending the least vulnerable people there.”

You gulped, chill running down your spine. You didn’t like they should be going there just the two of them. “You should wait for us.”

Steve shook his head. “Can’t do. If there are weapons the guards can use against you, we need to secure them.”

“Goddammit, Steve! You told me-“

“You have your orders, Frosty. Follow them. You know this distribution of resources makes sense as it is,” he shut you down, his blue eyes piercing yours in warning.

You knew he had told you something he didn’t want to tell the others and you shouldn’t have pulled it out. But you trusted his instincts and you felt like this was the source of his concerns and the others should know that.

You raised your chin, crossing the short distance between you and the Captain.

“You don’t go there alone. You stay with Tony.” He escaped you gaze and you grabbed his forearm. “Steve.”

He looked back at you, his eyes burning with honesty. “Same goes to you, Snowflake. Everyone. Don’t do anything on your own. We’re a team. Don’t forget that.”

As if someone could ever forget being a teammate to any of you – you were all a bit too special for that. But you could see what he meant.

The team nodded in agreement, gradually leaving the jet. They ‘parked’ it about a mile from the building Tony had located the girls in, nothing but woods around you. You kinda envied Tony his suit – what you wouldn’t give for a flying suit to avoid the running right now. Or any time, really.

Alright, stop whining. Let’s do this.

────── ·❆· ──────

You hated Steve sneaking in alone, but he was your best shot; he could be the most subtle apart from Natasha, who lacked the super-strength needed for breaking the locks. You could have frozen the locks, made them fragile and broken them easily, but Steve was better at hand-to-hand combat, which allowed him to get rid of the guards. Also, his body was less vulnerable. You agreed with Steve being the best choice; however, that didn’t mean you liked it.

When he opened the back entrance for you, you couldn’t supress the wave of relief; he seemed unharmed. It was ridiculous, because the mission barely started, but you hoped that from now on, he wouldn’t be alone.

“The hostages are in the west wing of the building,” Tony’s voice sounded in your ear and you nodded, glancing at Steve one more time. He smiled at you warmly before taking off.

“Stay safe,” you murmured as if he could hear you.

“Let’s go,” the Devil encouraged you softly and you both broke into a jog. Time to save some sorry asses.

The Devil turned out to be a good partner in crime – he always stopped you before taking a turn, warning you when someone was close, which gave you enough time to prepare yourself and won you the element of surprise. Also, he totally kicked ass; so far you had had the opportunity to see him in action once, because your own opponent had already been knocked out, and if you would say you didn’t forget how to breathe when seeing his quick sharp blows, you would be lying through your teeth.

“You okay?” he had asked you then and you had just shaken your head to snap from your trance and beckoned to him to move.

And then there was the door. The door, because Daredevil tilted his head to side, his hand on your forearm to pull you closer.

“Fifteen heartbeats. Four of them younger and scared. That’s our girls,” he whispered almost soundlessly into your ear and you bit your lip, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Weapons?”

“Few riffles.” His jaw tightened. “Probably knives, it’s hard to tell. There is no wood or water in the room as far as I can tell, but there’s lots of metal, the sound is bouncing off it – I think the girls are on the floor, leaning their backs against it.”

You stared, awe-struck, forgetting to try to imagine the picture he was drawing for you; instead, you were watching him as he had a look of the highest concentration on his half-face.

“You okay?”

You blinked, waking up once more. Jesus, get a hold of yourself, loser. “Yeah, sorry. Just… it’s incredible.” He seemed puzzled. “What you can do.”

A brief smile raised the corners of his lips. “Thanks. Not too bad yourself. Work your magic.”

You obeyed, touching the round doorknob, its metal immediately covering in a layer of ice and spreading to the whole door – its temperature dropped enough for the molecular structure to change.

Daredevil spared one more glance at you and the two of you simultaneously kicked out; the door shattered as if it was made of thin glass.

All hell broke loose. You barely managed to disarm two shooters by icing their weapons before a spray of bullets rained your way and you had to take cover behind one of the metal cabinets, the Devil throwing his billy clubs and disarming two others while knocking one out.

“I’m icing the main alley, you okay with that?” you hissed over the distance and he immediately nodded.

Your hand hit the floor, sending a thick belt of ice down the route – to your satisfaction, you could hear the gunmen curse and few of them went down with a thud and blind gunfire to the ceiling as they slipped.

A second later, the path was clear of ice, the distraction allowing you to attack again while the Devil sneaked into one of the smaller alleys, surprising the men from behind.

Freezing their hands was the priority; the weapons fell on the ground one after another. Unfortunately, that also meant the men went after you and they were really pissed. The ones who could still handle to carry some kind of a weapon switched to blades; Daredevil had been right.

You did your best to fight off everyone who came at you, using an icicle through their limbs when necessary. It was a method far from your favourite, but it was efficient when needed.

The floor was quickly covering in a layer of bodies of unconscious men. It took them a while to realize that their buddies were being attacked from behind by Daredevil – idiots, lots of them.

Receiving a kick to you lower back sending you into a cabinet, making your belly meet the edge, put you into the category of idiots too.

Shit, how had you missed this one? You quickly turned, still leaning onto the cabinet and blocked his lunge by kicking his stomach, making him stumble backwards. Next thing he knew, he was frozen to the wall and you punched him unconscious.

You spun on your heels to look for another opponent, ducking on instinct – a second later, a knife was sticking out of the wall in the same level your head had been.

A crack echoed in the room, followed by an agonized scream. Your gaze shot in that direction immediately, seeing the Devil cracking a guy’s wrist and dislocating his shoulder. You winced. With the man being the last one standing, you only guessed he had been the one to throw the knife. And Daredevil just elbowed his face, his own teeth barred in a savage grin which only a fool would call a smile. The man fell to the ground.

“Remind me to not to piss you off. Ever,” you panted, approaching Daredevil’s masked figure. His hands were clenched in fists, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he seemed fine. He snapped his head higher to face you better, his posture relaxing just slightly.

“Same goes to you,” he beckoned to one of the bastards who had their thigh stabbed with an icicle, impressively big even for you.

“Didn’t have the time to be gentle.”

“Incoming. Six more men. Fair sharing? Four for me, two for you?”

You gaped at him, not sure if he was kidding or not. The smug was so evident even on his half-face and you just couldn’t-

“Wipe that smirk off!” you hissed at him, laughing, spinning to the girl who didn’t get the memo and hadn’t hid yet. “Go to the corner, take cover. Things might get messy again. Anyone hurt?”

You took the zero response as a no. Devil confirmed your theory. Because of course he would know. He knew fucking everything.

“Which door?”

Daredevil beckoned to the one that were still in place. You grinned, creating a layer of black ice right away. They deserved a proper welcome. Daredevil gathered his weapons and prepared himself too.

Three fingers on Devil’s hand raised.

Two.

Now you could hear the gunmen too.

One.

You hit the ground with your palm once more and let the black ice spread under edge of the door too – they threw it open with their balance already shitty. You and your partner used the advantage immediately. They were disarmed before they even realized what was happening.

The Devil was right in the end – you only got stuck with two opponents, the thugs probably assuming you were the lesser problem. Sweet summer children… the winter is coming, bitches.

By the time you were done with yours, Daredevil was still fighting two of his own, one of them just throwing himself on the armoured figure; you quickly created ice for his feet to be stuck in. He almost lost his balance from the momentum with his feet suddenly disabled. The Devil sent the other man down with a powerful hook, soon elbowing the one standing pretty much frozen behind him to his face. The man lost consciousness immediately, his body going limp; you released his feet.

“Thanks,” the Devil called out and you spent one precious moment shooting him a smile. A second later, his billy club flew inches from your face, successfully taking down a guy behind you that you apparently hadn’t knocked out properly.

“Thanks,” you parroted, your smile faltering. Sloppy.

“That’s why we’re partners, right?”

For a second, you lost yourself in the lopsided grin he gave you. Shit. You heart. His smile widened.

“Get a room,” one of the girls whined and you snapped from your trance, squatting to her to untie her hands. “Thanks.”

“Fuck,” Natasha cursed in your earpiece and you tensed. Had not everything gone as smooth as with you and DD? “Steve, get out of there. NOW.”

Your heart must have stopped that second; she sounded as if she was panicking. Natasha Romanoff never panicked.

“What is it, Romanoff?” Steve asked lowly, a little out of breath. You could hear him fighting and your feet itched to get to the basement. But someone had to stay with the hostages.

“I’ll go,” Devil whispered, brushing your arm and you wordlessly pleaded him to rush. He disappeared in the doorway.

“Just get out! It’s a set up. They’re experimenting, developing an antidote to the serum that-”

She was cut off by gunshot and you sprang to the door as well.

“Stay in position, Gerda! I’m heading his direction,” Devil’s voice sounded in your ear and you had no doubt he was talking to you. You forced your feet to stop, gritting your teeth. If you weren’t so on edge, you might appreciate the nickname he had come up with.

“Steve, run,” you ordered adamantly, silently praying and absently checking on the four girls in the room. They were just bait. Vasiliev knew that taking Secretary’s daughter was a way to get Captain America here. Fucking shit.

Come on, Steve, don’t be a dick, don’t play hero and just get your ass out of there. It’s over anyw-

Three more men burst into your room. Shit. So much for things being over.

You didn’t worry about getting them seriously hurt now. You froze their guns first, their shocked screams echoing in the room as the icy metal gave them an immediate frostbite. Then you created a layer of black ice under their feet, their lunges in your direction ending up in their limbs tangled together. Some of them were frozen to the floor by hands, some of them by their feet, sides. You didn’t give a fuck. You knocked out all of them, stabbing one of the other goons who came back into consciousness with icicle through his forearm. He roared in agony and passed out again.

A different scream made your blood run cold.

You never heard that sound before, but you were sure as hell whom it belonged. It was Steve’s. Steve was in pain. And in horrible pain, because you had never heard him scream.

“Shit!” Tony cursed through the comms and the sound of his repulsors came next. “Romanoff, get the documents on that substance and head to the jet. I’m bringing him in and calling Banner right now.”

You barely heard him over Steve’s cries, though they were falling silent. You didn’t think that was a good sign.

And then they died out completely.

For a second, the world stopped. Everything froze as if you had blasted your energy, yet nothing went cold. No, the time itself must have frozen.

“Get out of your asses!” you yelled after the girls, startling them all. You were coming to the jet right now, all of you, because you couldn’t leave them here, but you wouldn’t worry about the goons. Others would take care of them or the clean-up squad of agents coming after. You needed to see Steve. Now. “NOW!”

The girls shrieked, but complied, stumbling to their feet.

“Move it,” you hissed. “Down the corridor, stay close so I can protect you, but for fuck’s sake move.”

You barely heard them muttering something under their breath, your pulse too loud in your ears.

Steve was hurt. Steve was probably injected with some fucking anti-serum and— you blinked away your tears. Not now. You would see him first and then came to catastrophic conclusions. Not now, not now…

The way out of the building was endless.

“Faster!”

The girls immediately did as you ordered. They were probably scared of you; you couldn’t care less. Your friend was in unbearable pain. And shit, you felt cold all over your body. You hadn’t felt that for a while.

Tony had cut himself off, so you couldn’t hear him until you stumbled into the quinjet, seeing his figure hovering over Steve’s, lying unconscious on the improvised bed. There was a hologram of Bruce’s face, Natasha flipping pages for him; at your incoming, she handed the file to Tony and went to help you with the hostages.

“Stay here,” you hissed at the girls, pacing to the bed.

Steve’s back arched, his body in spasm and you gasped, reaching for him.

“Don’t touch him now, let it be.”

“You’re kidding right?!”

“He’s right, convulsing person shouldn’t be held down-“

“Read you fucking files, Bruce!” you shot back, but clenched your hands in fists to stop yourself from touching Steve. You vision blurred.

“Hey, cool it, Elsa!” Tony snapped at you, trying to make a sense of the files as well. “We’re trying! You have a Ph.D. you haven’t mentioned ye-“

“That’s it,” Bruce called out, astonished. “She needs to cool him down until you get him to me!”

Glares of everyone in the room locked you in. You tensed, horrified at the suggestion.

“You want me to WHAT?!”

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 4

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby

As always; anyone wishes to be added/removed, shoot me an ask or a message.

Thank you for reading!

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cutegirlmayra · 5 years

Note

Feelin the Shadamy feels lately, so would you care to write a story where Shadow survives the end of SA2 and goes back to Amy on the ark? Thanks for what you do!

Ugh, me too. Me too.

And thank you ;u;

Gentle reminder that Prompts are on Shutdown! Don’t send me a prompt request till they reopen! :Db

Prompt:

Tails approaches Sonic, wearily watching him gaze out the window. “Sonic?”

Sonic shakes his head down, “It was a close call.” He turns and smiles as Shadow approaches the two from behind.

“Ah! Shadow!” Tails exclaims, spinning around and not sure if he should attack him or not.

“Easy, buddy. He’s cool.” Sonic explains, somewhat, and walks over to Shadow. He playfully whacks his shoulder, “Tough job, you may have the workings of a hero in you yet, Shadow!”

“Hmph, I wasn’t created for sporting a hero’s smile.” He steps away from Sonic, dusting off the place where he touched. “All this has done for me is left me with more unresolved questions. I don’t need your gratitude, just your compliance.” he folded his arms.

“Oh? Is that so? I see.” Sonic, without skipping a beat, cheerily leaned his body a bit and folded his own arms, as though to mirror Shadow but in a more relaxed way. “Well, you’re still getting one. Thanks, Shadow!” He charmingly gave him a thumbs-up, and Tails jumped with his fist held high.

“Yeah!”

“What’s the compliance?” Knuckles and Rouge entered then, angling their bodies towards each other, but looking squarely at Shadow.

“You aren’t sayin’ you’re gonna ask for our quiet demise some other time are ya?!” Knuckles swung an arm out, but Rouge placed a hand on her hip and sharply turned her head to him.

“Enough. He’s clearly not being hostile. You are!”

“What!? You-!” Knuckles stepped toward her but she broke eye-contact and turned her cheek to him, addressing Shadow again and ignoring Knuckles’s outburst toward her.

“You were saying?”

“Wha?! Hmph!” Knuckles saw the blatant turnaround and kicked the ground as he turned away from her, walking off by Sonic.

“Only to stay out of my way…” Shadow unfolded his arms, then looked to Tails and Sonic.

Sonic nodded, closing his eyes and opening them in the process.

Shadow lowered his head, acknowledging that Sonic had heard his request and accepted it.

“I simply want answers. Nothing more.” Shadow began to walk off, moving passed Rouge as she followed him with her eyes.

“Kinda moody for an ultimate lifeform, don’t you think?” she teased, tilting her head as Tails rushed over to the center of the bunch.

“B-but! What if he tries to hurt people again! We’re just gonna forgive him like that? Q-quick! Someone put a tracker on him!” he pointed to Shadow’s direction, but Knuckles and Sonic looked to each other, then away as Sonic gave a smirk to Tails.

“Come on, Tails. He kinda did help me save the planet.” He stood beside him, comforting his worried friend.

“Y… yeah, I guess that’s true.” Tails looked to where Shadow had left, then Sonic, and then to the ground, letting the topic go.

“Besides, he’ll have to face me again if that happens! And everyone knows I’m the fastest hedgehog alive!” Sonic struck a pose, and Tails happily laughed with him.

As Shadow continued down the hallway, he looked at the battered metal with old bullet holes in it… contemplating exactly what had happened, to the best of his memory.

“If this is what you wanted, Maria,… then I’ll stop this path, and find another way to achieve the purposes you asked for.” He continued to study the area, but nothing was triggering his mind. “Whatever those may be… and however much I may not agree with it.” he shook his head, not sure if saving the earth was right, but knowing that if Maria wanted it, then he had no choice but to follow it.

“Soooniiicc!!!!”

“Huh?” He stopped to turn around but was ambushed by the girl’s doting arms in yet another accident. “You never cease to forget to look first before jumping.”

Amy continued to smother him before realizing this texture felt a little off. “O-oh..?” Her arm felt fluff… that wasn’t right.

She also squinted her eyes to the black and red contrast on Sonic’s features… wait…

“Oh no!” she pulled away, “It’s Shadow!” she reached her arms back and quickly pattered her feet away from him. “Wait, if you survived, then Sonic must have come back too, right!?” she put her hands gratefully to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. I was really worried about you two!”

“…You were… worried… about me?” Shadow looked a bit in shock, unable to understand that.

“Huh? Silly, of course I was! You both had me scared! When you dashed off to help Sonic save the world, I just knew you weren’t a bad guy!” she swayed a bit in her words, then pointed very sternly to Shadow. “Bad guy’s don’t say they’ll keep their promises! What was that promise you were referring to, anyway? I don’t remember asking you for anything.”

As she continued to speak, Shadow grew more… was it embarrassed?

He looked to the ground, his eyes darting around before turning away from her, gesturing to the world. “I remembered making a promise long ago to someone… your words… they brought those memories back to me.” he tightened his fist, bringing it in before his shoulders fell a bit from their rising tension, and then he nodded to Amy. “Before, I asked for no thanks… simply because I realized this was what I should have done all along. You… The thanks I received should be given back to you.”

He walked towards Amy, making her a little nervous as she looked up into his serious eyes, “Shadow…”

He placed a Chaos Emerald in her hand. Its glow and radiance looked much like the earth’s surface in hue and light…

The two stared at the emerald… before back up at each other.

“Thank you…”

“For what? Reminding you of a long lost promise? You really are kinda weird, but for that person’s sake, I’ll gladly accept your thanks.” Amy nodded, but something tugged at her heartstrings then. It didn’t really feel appropriate to have him thanking her, she didn’t feel like what she did was really the cause of his sudden change of heart.

“You’ve had that promise buried in you all this time. If anyone should give thanks, you should give it to that person you made a promise with, right?” she tilted her head cutely, and he seemed to be processing her words.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He started to think about it, before turning around and walking off.

“Oh, that reminds me.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder somewhat back at Amy, “I never did fully learn your name…”

“It’s Amy! Amy Rose!” She let out her signature vocal pattern and then waved to him. “I’ll always remember your name, Shadow! Shadow the Hero!”

“Amy…Rose… And a Hero..? You sound just like him.” He walked forward, repeating her name as he departed. “Farewell, Amy Rose. Sonic The Hedgehog… and Space Coloney Ark…” He then closed his eyes.

“Forever.”

“Huh?” Amy watched him round the corner, not sure what he meant by that…

She placed her hands over the Chaos Emerald and close to her chest as Sonic and the others came by.

“Hey, Amy. Long time no see!”

“Oh, Sonic!” She spun around, rushing into his arms. “How could you! I thought you were-! Ohhh, Sonic!” she dug herself into him, remembering that for a moment, he had almost died from a trap that exploded in space!

“W-woah! Hang on, Amy! It’s all good! Yikes! Don’t pull me so hard! Amy..!” she kept on laughing as Sonic protested little by little, but something still plagued her thoughts.

“Hey…” She pulled away, revealing the Chaos Emerald as she brought her hands forward from her chest. “Shadow gave this to me… And for saving my life back there… I’ll give it to you.”

Sonic looked down at the Chaos Emerald. He took it a moment and nodded to her. “Thank you.” then stuck it away.

“Hehe! That’s the second time someone’s thanked me today!” she chimed, as Tails walked over to her.

“What do you mean, Amy?”

“Well… Ah! That’s right! Shadow! I forgot!” She suddenly grew panicked and took off. Waving behind her, she encouraged them to not follow, “I’ve gotta make sure he gets back to earth, alright! What if he tries to use that fake Chaos Emerald!”

Knuckles suddenly jolted back in spot, “Oh no! That’s too far a distance! He’ll not make it!”

“You mean… if that’s what he was planning.” Rouge argued, “I don’t think the bloke’s stupid enough to consider that…”

“We needed the Chaos Emeralds… but maybe he thinks he can get by with Sonic’s fake Emerald?” Tails looked to Sonic.

“Either way, I’m not leaving a new friend behind!” Sonic struck a cool pose, showing his resolve as he took off. “Come on! We’ll find him! Leave no asteroid unturned!”

“Got it!” the others agreed, taking off.

As Amy searched, she gasped.

Seeing Shadow prepare an old containment pod to put him back into sleep, possibly killing him this time since he probably didn’t know exactly how to do it…

And there was a location… he was going to blast himself into space…

“No!” Amy shook her head, her face full of horror as she read the screens he had momentarily programmed to start up on its own. “Shadow, stop!”

She dashed to the pod as he approached it, grabbing his arm.

“L-…Let me go.” Shadow struggled a bit.

“Don’t do this! You belong on earth! Like the rest of us!” she wouldn’t cease, and he was somewhat confused by her odd strength.

“This must be… I’m not like anything on earth. I don’t belong there. I don’t belong here, either… You don’t understand what I am.” He tried to fight against her, but it was clear he was lenient in actually repelling her away. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“I don’t care what you are!” she shouted out, stopping him a moment from tolerating her moxie against him.

Her words shook him to his core.

“You… What?” his eyes quaked, widened by her sudden outburst.

“If what you are scares you from living a full life… then reinvent yourself!” she ducked her head down, making sure her arms were like iron bars he couldn’t escape from.

It was an awkward hold, her still gripping him from behind and him trying not to hurt her while attempting to move away and get in the pod that would make him sleep while he drifted aimlessly into space for eons and endless years.

“You… You don’t know what you’re saying. Let me go!” he tried to be a bit more forceful in his voice now, but she continued to struggle against him.

“No! This isn’t right, Shadow! What about your promise to me? Do you remember!? I have a new promise, promise you’ll stay! Promise me you’ll try and understand what you just saved! See the world for what it really is, a beautiful new home for yourself! You can be whoever you want to be on earth! No one will despise you!”

He couldn’t believe her words this time.

“That’s enough. Release me!” he was threw listening to the ramblings of a child.

“No!” She felt him using more of his strength now, his large hands finally placing themselves on her head and shoulder.

“Amy… You don’t realize what you’re saying.” She knew nothing of him. Nothing of his origin. He was a monster, that’s all he needed to know. Earth didn’t hold the answers he so desperately desired. Nothing did. It was all dead and gone… like he should be.

“I do! I know far more than you because I’ve seen earth! I know the precious lives that you’ve saved and you don’t, Shadow! You don’t know!”

“I’ve never saved any lives!” growing more frustrated, he bent his knees and began to push back against her, realizing he doubted her initial strength. His memories swarmed with Maria, the ones he could recall, anyway. “All I do is end lives… even if I don’t want too, and even if it costs me a promise!”

“Make a new one! I dare ya!” she pushed back against him, and for a moment, his feet scooted back and almost gave way at the sudden velocity of her shove.

“Ah…” He was actually kinda impressed, but quickly withdrew the thought. “I’m growing tired of this..!” he threw an arm up, whacking her back as she fell and landed on her back. “You may have swayed me before, Amy. But this isn’t something you can interfere with again!” he spoke with much more firmness in his voice now, a dark essence dripping from his tone. “If you only knew… the destruction I could cause to your precious earth… you’d let me turn into a forgotten curse.” He held his hand up, picturing the earth before lowering his hand into a shaking fist. “Leave me…” he swiped his hand back and began to load himself into the pod.

He put his arms in a similar position as when he had awoken from Eggman triggering his activation. He intertwined his fingers and let his head rest back, breathing in the fumes that would place him back into a warm, comatose state.

“Maria… Forgive me.” He closed his eyes, “I should have never been created… or you’d still be with us.”

“Preparing launch sequence.”

“Grr… ughh… GRAAAHH!!” Amy swung her Piko Piko Hammer into the pod.

It cracked the pod.

“What?” He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing the electricity spark and red lights flash on with yellow sirens spinning around.

“Containment breach. Launch in jeopardy.”

“HAAA!” Amy continued to swing into the pod.

Shadow’s eyes studied the girl, the powerful swings, the tears in her eyes..?

“Why… tears?” Then something happened, he felt an emotion pour from a heart he didn’t know he had.

With each swing, Amy’s arms would lift and he would see her. When it crashed down, he would see Maria, crying and desperately placing her hand on the containment pod.

His heart melted again, and he tightened his jaw, leaning back and kicking the pod to escape.

“Launch still imminent. No emergency code registered. 10…9…8-”

“SHADOW!” Amy cried out.

He strained against the militarized, seemingly glass surface.

“7…6….5…4…3…2-”

“You promised!” Amy cried out, her eyes like shattered pieces of a prism, shining with an endearing love for the stranger she had only just met. “Promise you will stay!”

“1.”

“…GrraAAAHHH!!! I PROMISE!” Shadow shouted out, the two’s force finally breaking the pod as it blasted out into space.

“Shadow!” Sonic and the others finally arrived, as Sonic threw the Fake Chaos Emerald, having found it slammed dunked like he remembered.

Shadow, being tossed around by the speed of which the pod was launched, finally was able to maneuver himself to grabbing the Fake Emerald.

He looked to Amy, “I’ll keep my promises… I’ll see you on earth… I’m not a bad guy, then… right, Amy?” he looked at the Fake Emerald in his hand, her image on the other side of it.

“Hmph, very well. I’m no hero, but I’ll keep my new promise to you.” He held up the Fake Emerald, “Chaos..! Control!”

It shook him to his core, but because he had far more chaos power than Sonic, the Fake Emerald was enough to send him to earth’s surface.

He fell unconscious, landing after the shining light had brought him to a beautiful forest.

The Fake Emerald rolled out of his hands, shattering from its final use, and Shadow blinked his eyes open.

The first thing he noticed was the rays from above, the sun hitting his fingers and causing light to part into shadows on the ground around him.

He tried to focus his exhausted eyes, then looked to see trees… felt grass… heard nature for the first time.

“Ma… Maria…” He barely could mouth it out, feeling his consciousness slipping away again, his eyes getting blurry as they faded in and out… he spoke one other sound…

“I see it… A-… Amy… I see what we’ve saved…”

And then, darkness… as was his fate.

#shadamy #cutegirlmayra #shadowxamy #shadamy prompt #sonic prompt #SA2 #sonic adventure 2 battle #sonic adventure 2 prompt #SA2 prompt #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #shadow and amy

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