#blob's prompt party
Text
{ 89 }
OK overture.
denji x fem.reader
10 stages of love
{ but i'm not dead yet, so i guess i'll be alright. }
1. first sight
you weren't expecting your life as a university student to be so damn difficult or boring. barely twenty years old, you had high hopes of experiencing the exciting kind of life, filled with parties and study dates with friends, maybe even meet a cute guy or two.
yet sadly for you, you experienced none of those things. instead, your university days were filled with stressful deadlines, abhorrent exams, and late nights spent studying while consuming unhealthy amounts of caffeine pills just to get by.
there was an emptiness felt within the depths of your heart, one that you weren't sure what you could even do to fill it. you truly weren't expecting your life to be so bland, and that more than anything else was what put such a damper on your mood.
unable to take the sight of your plain apartment much longer, you dress in your favorite pair of sweatpants and don a hoodie for warmth, deciding that a trip to the café would cheer you up. perhaps you could buy something warm while filling your stomach with all the pastries you can afford?
just thinking about it all was enough to make your stomach begin to growl, prompting you to quicken your pace. however, there was one tiny little detail you forgot, a devastating trait to have while living in a time where cellphones hadn't become quite as advanced as they were today-
you were hopeless when it came to directions, more often than not, you spent your days getting lost in the midst of the city. hell, if it wasn't for the fact that you took the same train every morning to get to your classes, you'd probably never make it to school, either.
when you thought you recalled where the café was located, you ended up being completely wrong. the constant twists and turns you took leads you to so many dead ends. you were now questioning yourself, really wondering if you could find this damn café after all.
as your wandering takes you to yet another dead-end, this time within the depths of a dark alley, fate seemed cruel enough to play a joke on you. before you could leave, there was a strange sound heard coming from behind you. the sound was wet, being reminiscent of a snail or a slug trailing its slime against the wet pavement while in the rain.
but...no snail or slug could be that big, right? the lighting in the alleyway was dim, with the single overhead light constantly blinking on and off. as you strained your eyes to see what that figure was, you tricked your mind into thinking that it was a dripping wet dog, whimpering because it had accidentally fallen into a river or some puddle.
filled with both a curiosity and a desire to help the mutt, you step closer to the hulking figure. "hey buddy, it's going to be okay. are you-"
you trail off, becoming frozen on the spot when the sudden stench hits you, like rotting flesh and decay. instinctively, you cover your mouth with both hands, but the memory of such a powerful stench was enough to make you gag. it was at that exact moment the figure reveals itself, finally coming into the light as you could merely see a blob the color of mud. its eyes and mouth kept sliding off its face, further fueling your anxieties as you were positive witnessing something so horrifying would forever taint your very memories.
you had come into contact with a devil-
and truly, what shitty luck did you have to warrant such a meeting?
completely frozen on the spot, you felt your body take slow steps away from the nightmarish creature. but unfortunately for you, your flight or fight response was delayed. the moment you took back control of your body, ready to run away when the creature reaches out to you, engulfing you within its foul scent as you struggled to breathe.
"devour, need to devour such a sweet morsel." its voice was guttural, sending shivers down your spine as your body slowly sunk inside a beast, like a body sinking in quicksand.
your scream reverberates across the alleyway, with tears dotting your vision as you reached out your hand as far as you could manage, begging for something, anything to come and save you. the thick and toxic mud ends up overtaking your senses, and before you could lose consciousness while ceasing your breaths-
you felt a hand forcefully pull you out from the devil's grip, its disgusting mud staining at your clothes as you felt globs of it sliding down your body. the slick sensation of the disgusting slime surrounding you makes you feel nauseous as you gag almost immediately, unable to get rid of the scent since it had now completely drenched you.
struggling to get to your feet, you pinch your nose shut to see the sight of your savior standing in front of you. immediately, you felt panicked. this guy was just too lanky, and you could only see his bare back as it faced you. unruly strands of blond hair decorate his head, and you were concerned with how his lanky form stood without fear in front of the poisonous devil. despite how the beast roared at him in anger, the strange man retained his almost nonchalant stance-
that is, until he turns back to face you with a wink and a smirk, "wanna watch me do something cool?"
you weren't given the chance to answer him. all you could see was how he pulled at an odd string settled on the middle of his chest before a chainsaw rips his head in half. letting out a blood curdling scream, you swore you felt as though you were going to faint, your heart caught within the confines of your throat when the man finally reveals himself.
gone were his messy blond locks. all that covered his face was a metal mask with a deadly chainsaw sticking out of it. not only had his head turned into a chainsaw, but the entirety of his arms as well, the deadly blades acting as a shield as he shredded the devil into tiny bits and pieces.
you weren't sure how you were supposed to feel. the more rational part of you knew that you had to feel afraid of this man who clearly had a devil half-
but the stronger part felt more intrigue for him than anything else.
in just mere seconds, the chainsaw man comes out victorious, with his dirty converses standing in the puddle left over from the devil's destruction. once he was sure it was over, the chainsaw man steps closer to you. unsure of why you didn't want to move or run away, you end up standing completely still, allowing him to reach out and touch at your cheek gently with the tip of his chainsaw.
"you're lucky you're so damn cute."
that was all he said in that strange voice of his before jumping away from you, disappearing against one of the rooftops as you felt your legs give away, unable to hold your weight any longer.
with your heart pounding within your chest, not with fear but with excitement, you knew that your first meeting ever with the chainsaw man would forever be imprinted within your memories.
2. introduction
ever since that fateful night when you were saved by chainsaw man himself, you became a tad bit obsessed with him. he was just so cool, so powerful and fearless when he had saved your life. that strange half devil hybrid was the spark you needed in your life, and it was thanks to him that you finally felt so alive- hell, it was because of him that you were still alive.
unfortunately, such a cool meeting came with a heavy price, mainly in the form of how the stench of the toxic devil still remained attached to your body regardless of the sheer number of showers you took whilst lathering copious amounts of body wash on your form. during those first few weeks, you had to cover your scent with a variety of perfumes in hopes of masking the stench of decay left over from that night.
despite the number of complaints your peers told you, telling you that your perfume was overwhelming and headache inducing, you knew that it was better to give them a migraine than make them feel nauseous whenever you were around.
but you digress-
roughly two months had passed, and you were still searching for any signs of the chainsaw man. when you asked around your university questions pertaining to who it might be, no one had a clue what you were talking about. and all the books you read within your university's library spoke little of a human/devil hybrid.
with a sigh, you figured that it was completely hopeless to try and find out anything about your savior. you were quickly becoming dejected now, with no signs of the man with the dirty blond hair anywhere in sight.
not wanting to wallow in your despair for too long, you decide to visit the udon stand settled within close proximity of your university. the owner and cook, recognizing you almost immediately, welcomes you with open arms as he let out a hearty laugh whilst saying your name. "the usual for you?"
"absolutely." taking your spot on the stand, you wait eagerly for your favorite bowl of udon. you kick your legs back and forth with your hands clasped against the table.
you paid no attention to the person that suddenly sat next to you, their proximity completely noticeable when you could feel the right side of your arm touching them. with your faced scrunched up in dismay, you were about to move seats had it not been for the fact that your beef udon had already arrived.
"here ya go, miss! and as always, enjoy!"
"wah! that looks amazing! 'scuse me, sir, but i will definitely have what she's having!"
cue a rich chuckle coming from the owner himself. "absolutely, young man. one beef udon comin' right up!"
you couldn't help but feel slighly annoyed at this man's childish behavior, ready to scold him as the words hung heavy against the tip of your tongue-
but upon seeing him for the first time, you felt them die against your throat. with messy locks of blond hair and eyes the color of smooth, hot chocolate. he was dressed in a jacket and a pair of jeans, but those worn converses were undeniable.
he was the chainsaw man; the same man you had dedicated your time trying to find.
the young man appears nervous from being scrutinized with your wide-eyed gaze, letting out a cough before saying, "uhm, long time no see?"
yet all you could manage was a shaky whisper of this single phrase: "chainsaw-"
but that was all you could say when he immediately places a hand over your mouth, looking panicked while darting his eyes around the area, "please, just call me denji."
3. interaction
"denji?" you test the sound of his name against your lips, repeating it a few times as the boy settled next to you slowly begins to turn pink in response.
"i like it." returning your attention back to the steaming bowl of udon, you grab your chopsticks and clasp your hands together, "thank you for this meal!"
you dig into your bowl of noodles, suddenly not minding denji's close proximity when he receives his own bowl of noodles just minutes later. he repeats your actions before slurping up his own noodles.
you ate in a comfortable silence, neither one of you speaking as you each simply enjoyed the bowl of udon. "you know, you're being kind of rude." denji wasn't facing you when he said that strange phrase.
"oh? and what makes me so rude?" you take casual sips of the broth, looking at the blond expectantly as a sheepish expression paints his features.
"well, you didn't tell me your name yet, and that's kinda what i wanted to know."
"hmm." you lick your lips, the sight of your actions not going unnoticed by denji as his eyes suddenly hones in on your lips. thinking that it was only fair that he know your name as well, you tell it to him and listen when he does the same thing you did with his name.
he repeats the syllables that make up your name a few times before grinning widely at you, "i think i like the sound of it."
you cheeks felt heated, and you continue to eat your bowl of udon, but this time, you could barely taste the deliciousness of the broth and how well it tied the noodles and the beef together. instead, your stomach kept twisting each time you felt denji purposely lean into you whilst enjoying his bowl.
within seconds, he finishes his meal entirely, leaving behind an empty bowl. digging into the pocket of his jeans, he places a few bills against the table, paying for your portion of the meal as well before beckoning you to follow him.
"come on, let's take a walk."
it was as though he put a spell on you, for that was all the urging from denji you needed to follow him wherever he went.
4. attraction
denji was by no means the cute and handsome boy of your dreams. he appeared disheveled, as if that were his fashion statement as he walked with a natural slumped posture. he keeps his hands hidden, buried deep within the confines of his jeans while keeping his gaze focused on the pavement in front of him.
"so you gonna ask me 'bout that night or what?"
his blunt words make you wince in response. "do you actually remember me?"
denji takes a look at you from the corner of his eyes. "hell yeah i do. can't ever forget a cute face like yours." he seems smug then, rubbing at the tip of his nose with the back of his hand all while smirking.
"heh, okay smartass." you purposely run your hip against his, making the smug expression falter as you continued to walk closely beside him.
"how long have you had such powers?"
"uh, since i was seventeen?"
"and how old are you now?"
"twenty."
you giggle, facing him with a smile on your face. "cool, so the chainsaw man is my age."
you continue to walk in silence, and from your periphery, you could see the way denji was turning red with a blush. even the tip of his ears was pink now, and it was truly such an adorable sight.
"so do you go around saving people from devils like a vigilante or something?"
"heh, nope! i only go around saving cute girls like yourself." he gives you another toothy grin, showing you its sharpness while running a hand through his unruly locks of hair. "the goal of it is to have the girl become so in love with me that she takes me back to her place, where she can show her thanks for me by spreading her legs as i lose myself in her."
you could feel your cheeks burn with the audacity of his wishes, trying to hold back your laughter as a snort ends up escaping from your lips. "and how's that working out for you?"
"ugh, terribly. here i am, in my twenties, and i'm still not getting any."
now, you couldn't hold back your laughter any longer as ugly snorts and giggles came out of you. denji was so refreshing to you, with his honesty and bluntness that delighted you in so many ways. you kept on laughing, with your stomach twisting in pain as denji simply stood there, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.
you didn't know how long you just stood there, laughing like an idiot while in front of denji. finally calming down, you wipe the stray tears from your eyes and give him an apologetic smile. "sorry about that, denji. you're just so funny, so honest with your desires that i couldn't help but laugh at what a total guy you are."
but instead of joining you in your laughter, denji gently reaches out to you, allowing the back of his hand to brush against your cheek when he tells you in a breathless whisper,
"you're so fucking adorable. please, go on a date with me."
5. date
denji is so not your type.
he's definitely not your dream come true.
and to top it all off, he seems so shameless-
so what the hell prompted you to accept his invitation to a date saturday night?
was it due to the fact that he was the chainsaw man you had been searching for? was your intrigue with him due to the fact that he had literally saved your life?
you couldn't say for sure why denji fascinated you, but all you knew was that you were eager to get to know him better. something about him just drew you into him, and more than anything else, denji seemed to be drowning in his own loneliness.
something must have happened in his past, but you didn't dare bring up anything so personal when you've only met him a handful of times.
but you were willing to stick around and try.
with you dressed comfortably for your date with denji, you stand outside of your train station, waiting for him to appear. your eyes kept looking around for any signs of him, and the moment you had your gaze off of the streets was when you felt someone press themselves against your back.
you stiffen, about to scream had it not been for the teasing whisper of your name against your ear, "hey cutie, were you waiting for me?"
"d-denji!" he lets go of you then with a teasing smile on his face. dressed in a shirt and another pair of jeans along with his converses (his signature style, you suppose), he holds up his hands in mock surrender. "my bad my bad, didn't mean to scare ya. let's just get going, okay?"
placing a hand behind your back, he leads you inside the station, finally starting your date you had been anticipating.
6. holding hands
your date with denji ends up being the most fun you've had. he takes you to one of his favorite arcades located in the city, where you spent hours beating each other with the various games. whilst in the arcade, you shared an extra-large pepperoni pizza, laughing at all the funny faces he made and terrible jokes he tells you.
when you had your fill of the arcade, denji takes a hold of all the tickets you had won in combination with his, going up to the gift counter to exchange the tickets for a cute little teddy bear. he shows you the adorable plush, holding on to what looked like a sunflower within its brown paws. your smile couldn't be any wider, accepting the cute plush while giving it several kisses.
meanwhile, denji kept looking at you embracing the teddy bear tightly against your chest. he tries to convince himself that no, he was not getting jealous of some stupid teddy bear-
but ends up failing miserably.
"come on, it looks really nice out tonight. let's go out and admire the stars or something."
taking a hold of one of your hands, he interlocks them together with his fingertips. unconsciously, denji ends up shivering at the contact, swearing that he's never felt a hand so soft before while taking you away from the arcade.
7. first kiss
the teddy bear that denji had gotten for you was still settled safely on your lap as you sat with denji on the water fountain. the gentle gurgle of water was all that was heard as denji kept his gaze at the stars scattered above him.
you were feeling awkward now, pulling at your teddy bear's ears as you tried to find the right words to say to him. with your legs drawn up close to your chest, you sigh and decided that it was best to be honest with him.
"denji?"
"yeah?"
"i ah...i really had a great time with our date. it's been so long since i've been to an arcade, and i loved it."
"hm, that's good."
you shift uncomfortably beside him. "why are you acting like i'm such a nuisance now? didn't you have a good time as well?"
"you bet your cute ass i did."
you ignore his use of profanity at that moment, feeling your frustrations about to reach a boiling point. "then why aren't you acting like you're having a good time?!"
"because i'm consumed with thoughts of wanting to kiss you. but i don't wanna scare you off on our first date."
finally hearing his confession, you look at him to see him glaring at the sky, refusing to meet your gaze. his rough admission causes a surge of warmth to course through your veins, and you could feel yourself swallowing thickly as you tried to find the right words to say.
should i...? or should i not...?
with a sigh, you purposely slide closer to him, allowing your shoulders to meet with his as you rest your head against him. "then why don't you?"
your words causes denji to do a double take, whipping his head around so quickly that you were afraid he was going to break his neck. "w-what?"
"you heard me. i said why don't you kiss me already."
you figured denji would be filled with hot air now, puffing up his chest as he kissed you with confidence-
yet instead, you watch as denji becomes even redder in response. he hides his mouth from your curious gaze with his hand, eyes looking at anything but you.
"denji...?"
"j-just give me a damn minute, okay?! i-i never had a girl i wanted to kiss so badly actually let me kiss her before...!"
ah, so this boy was all bark and no bite after all.
with a smile on your face, you gently place a hand on his chin, forcing him to face you. his eyes appeared so hopeful, so needy for even an ounce of your affections. letting out a sigh of his name, you allow your lips to perfectly slant against his, giving him a kiss denji was sure to cherish for the rest of his life.
8. relationship
you couldn't quite put a label on whatever was going on between you and denji.
all you knew was that he made you happy. his presence measured up to that of the sun itself. despite his gruff language and perverted nature he tries to display, you found that he was so warm and kind. there were different aspects to denji's personality, and little by little, you were certain that you were slowly breaking down his walls.
tonight, denji had suddenly appeared at your apartment during the middle of the night. he looked half-asleep, with the way the dark circles seemed to darken beneath his eyes as his arms hung limply by his sides.
yet the moment he sees you, denji perks up immediately, taking you in his arms as he makes his way to your bedroom. when he lays down, settling you on top of him with your cheek pressed against his chest, you could feel the gentle beatings of his heart.
you felt so soft then, your affections for the man you had quickly grown so attached to-
but did he feel the same way?
you sigh, burying your face within his chest, tracing at the chainsaw cord that served as his means of turning into chainsaw man. denji immediately stops your hands from exploring any further, "no, don't. i don't want you to get hurt."
"what am i to you?" you whisper to him, feeling your insecurities take over as you played with the front of his shirt.
"hah?"
"have you been saving any other cute girls lately?" was the question you end up asking, refusing to meet his confused gaze as you kept the fabric of his shirt clutched tightly in your hand.
denji then takes a hold of your hands, freeing his shirt from their tight grip. you half expected him to leave you right then and there, feeling the tears begin to dot your vision as you fought to keep your breathing even.
you refused to cry, even when denji decides to leave you.
yet he blows all of your expectations out of the water when he clasps your hands together to press a kiss against the back of them. "nah, you're the only cute girl i wanna save."
taking your silence as proof that you had finally calmed down, he adjusts his hold on you so that you now lay within his arms, with his chest pressed against your back. you felt the way his body heat seemed to engulf you, trapping you in a safe cocoon as you smile in response.
"what am i to you?" you ask once more, this time with your voice ringing loud and clear from the confines of your room.
"isn't it obvious?" you feel the way denji lets out an exasperated breath against your hair. "you're my girlfriend, and i couldn't ask for anyone better than you."
9. love
life truly had a sense of humor.
never would you have ever expected to fall in love with someone like denji. when you first met him, he seemed so far away from what you considered your ideal type-
the one that was prim and proper, with an education that matches yours plus having great ambitions.
well, you suppose you could take back that last bit, since denji has shown you that he has plenty of ambition, even if they were a bit misplaced before he met you.
"i used to want to take over the world with my powers, you know? make all of japan bend to my will and get all the women and riches i desired."
he tells you of his dreams one night when you were both cuddling on the couch, watching some boring sitcom that you didn't bother to try and recall the title of. all of your focus was on denji and the way he softly smiled down at you.
"but now, that shit doesn't matter anymore. now that i got you in my arms, i feel as though every single one of my dreams have come true."
with a kiss filled with passion that you didn't even think denji was capable of, he holds you tightly within his arms while conveying all the emotions he held for you. the kiss was successful in taking your very breath away, eyes turning almost hazy with the sheer amount of love you had for the man that held you.
letting out a hoarse whisper of your name, denji rests his forehead against yours before confessing, "i fucking love you. you're everything a sad and pathetic man like me could ever ask for.
that's why, i'm gonna spend the rest of my fucking life protecting you and makin' you happy."
10. commitment
there was no way denji could sleep peacefully, not when he could spend the next hours watching you rest instead.
with a yawn, he carefully sits up from bed, allowing the blankets to slide off his body as he takes this chance to truly admire you. was his behavior a little strange? maybe, but truly, he didn't give a damn.
he finally found what he has always desired; the one thing he has craved for his entire life:
an unconditional love that he knew he would fight and die for. what started as him wanting to save a total babe from distress ends up leading him down the path he has always wanted- a dream come true.
with his right hand, he presses down against his chest where his heart still beat. he was comforted by the fact pochita would always be a part of him, protecting his heart while feeling each ounce of happiness whenever he was by your side.
"we finally did it, pochita. i finally reached my dreams."
when he finally decides to fall back asleep, he ends up bringing your body closer to him. with you now pressed against his bare chest, he could feel you smile in your sleep as you curled yourself even closer to him.
perhaps he should surprise you with that little, black velvet box currently hiding within his drawer in the morning after all.
a.n. - i have been listening to ajr's -ok overture- on repeat for days now, and the entirety of the song fits denji so well that i had to make this story for him 🥹 this is unedited, but i had such a blast writing it, and i hope you readers enjoyed it, too ♡
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#denji fluff#denji x reader#denji headcanons#csm x reader#csm x you#denji x you#chainsaw man x reader#.stories
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@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is... Saving the last bite for them (Prompt by @acasualcrossfade)
wc: 586 | Rated: G | cw: Food, Eating
Tags: Clean-Up After a Party, Bickering, Steve's House, The Party Being Total Shits (they are not present, but it's the premise)
The Clean-Up Crew
Eddie looks over the mess atop the Harrington’s kitchen counter and sighs.
The place is destroyed – littered with paper plates and solo cups (that were sourced from god knows where), food leftovers, crumbs and overall rubbish. All the aftermath of an impromptu ‘pool party’, pool noodles and all, courtesy of a pack of ravenous and uninvited teen gremlins.
Their lazy Sunday afternoon in the height of an Indiana summer wasn’t supposed to go like this.
Nor did Eddie think he and Steve would be spending their Date Night acting as a clean-up crew. He guesses he should count himself lucky that the little shits even decided to leave – something about Mike having a haul of candy stashed away in his dank basement.
“Can you at least help me if you are gonna start complaining?”
His eyes snap from a melted blob of something-chocolate to find a very disgruntled, Steve glaring back. He’s wearing an apron. One that is surely his mother’s considering the red tartan-like pattern and frills.
“I didn’t say anything!” Eddie defends, stifling a giggle as Steve wildly gestures to the bench as he sports a yellow pair of rubber gloves.
“Just…” Steve sighs, clearly overwhelmed by the volume of mess, “Help me now and then we can eat.”
Eddie frowns and picks up a nearby box of cereal – his Honeycombs Steve adds to his grocery list especially for him. He upends it and sure enough, it’s empty.
He tosses it to the side and grits his teeth.
“And what are we supposed to eat, exactly?” he spits.
Steve smirks to himself, wipes his gloves on his apron and heads – nay, struts – to the refrigerator.
“Dustin bought over a goddamn cake if you can believe it,” he explains, opening the door and disappearing behind it.
And just as quickly he pops back into view, holding up a delicate white dinner plate in victory.
“They are such little shits,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief.
He is certain the fridge is just as barren as the rest of the kitchen, so there’s simply no way Steve could have possibly had an easy time hiding the treat.
“They are the worst,” Steve agrees, setting the plate down between them and ripping off the saran wrap, “But Henderson has a good taste in all things cake.”
He snaps off a glove and tosses it onto the floor, wiggling his brows as he does so.
Eddie recoils, “Don’t talk about Henderson while you make goo-goo eyes at me!”
Steve lifts the plate into his purview and goddamn it smells like fudgy, chocolate heaven. He could kiss Steve stupid but... He is just so annoyed that those damn entitled kids, who think nothing of treating Steve’s house as their own personal Club Med.
“Did they really go to Melvad’s on the way here?” he wonders, scrunching his nose.
“Yeah,” Steve chuckles.
“And then biked all the way across town with party food and bottles of soda?”
He breaks off a piece of cake with his fingers and all but shoves it into his mouth. He groans, smacking his lips (it tastes just as good as it looks) and greedily licks his fingers.
Steve nods, “And somehow Sinclair hauled over a lifetime supply of Coke cans too.”
“And the pool noodles?” he asks, spittling cake as he dives in for more.
But Steve smacks his hand away.
“After clean up,” he laughs, “Besides, I meant for us to share.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#steddielovemonth#tw food#tw eating#food mention
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Money Can't Buy Me Love
For @harringrovelovefest Day 6!
Prompt: Can't Buy Me Love
T - 1k
***
Nothing made Robin madder than knowing she was right, yet no one listening to her, which was why she was so frustrated that Billy and Steve hadn’t gotten together yet, despite her superior matchmaking skills.
She’d been friends with Steve for a few years now, ever since they’d been paired together for training shifts as newly hired employees of Scoops Ahoy ice cream shop back in their hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. It had first been a friendship of circumstance, but then they’d realized how much they had in common, and their friendship had intensified until they were inseparable.
She’d only met Billy the previous spring semester when they’d started studying together for their shared Stats class, but she could tell right away that he and Steve were perfect for each other. Where Steve was sweet and soft, a total romantic, Billy was gruff and brash, full of snark. They bickered over anything and everything any time they were together, but they had the whole opposites attract thing going on. Plus, Robin saw how they looked at each other when Steve would join them for a study session, or they’d all meet up to go to dinner or a movie. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife any time they were in the same room.
Robin wasn’t sneaky about her intent to pair them up, constantly telling them that they try going out on a date sometime, or at least bone each other, even if just to see if they were compatible with each other. She even tried to rope her girlfriend, Heather, into trying to persuade them, but she said she was staying out of it.
But try as hard as she might, Billy and Steve kept refusing, saying that neither of them were looking for a relationship right now, and were perfectly happy as friends. That seemed to be true, both of them members of the same rec basketball team, they worked out together, partied together, constantly featuring on each other’s Instagram stories, and if Steve wasn’t texting Robin, he was texting Billy. She just couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to take it to the next level and become the sickeningly hot power couple that they were destined to be.
After months of begging, she’d gotten desperate just before Valentine’s Day. She approached Billy and Steve where they sat across from each other in the cafeteria, sharing a massive plate of fries. “Ok, idiots,” she said by way of greeting. “What’s it going to take to get the two of you to take a chance on each other and prove me right?”
They both paused shovelling fries in their mouth to look at each other before turning their attention to Robin. “$20,” Billy replied, dragging a fry through the big blob of ketchup on the side of the plate. “Each.”
“Ugh, fine,” Robin sighed, pulling out her wallet and extracting two twenty dollar bills. She wasn’t exactly in a financial position to be handing out cash, but it would be worth it when these two boneheads fell head over heels in love with each other.
She handed them each a bill. “You can thank me later, you dumbasses.”
***
Robin knew their date would go well, but she wasn’t quite prepared for just how well it would go. Three days later, on the morning of Valentine’s Day, she left her bedroom and went downstairs, entering her and Steve’s living room to find him on the couch, in Billy’s lap, making out super aggressively. Billy’s hands were down the back of Steve’s jeans, and Billy’s shirt was half off, Steve tweaking one of his nipples, and it appeared that they weren’t kissing so much as trying to swallow each other’s faces.
Robin cleared her throat and they both turned. She smirked at them, her hands on her hips. “So, it looks like I was right. You two are perfect for each other.”
Billy grinned at her. “We have to admit, we were both skeptical, but you were right. We’re made for each other. Look, we got matching tattoos.”
They both pushed up their shirt sleeve to show off what was indeed matching tattoos of a date. Upon further inspection, she noticed that the date was the date before. Holy shit, they were moving faster than she could have anticipated. “Ummmmm, what’s the significance of the date?”
“Our wedding day,” Steve replied. He held out his left hand for her to inspect the silver band encircling his ring finger. “We got married yesterday.”
Billy pulled Steve close and nuzzled his cheek. “We just felt like there was no point in waiting once we got together. It just felt so right to be with Steve, I wanted to lock him in fast. And we only have you to thank.”
“No, no, no, there’s no way. I take it back. You don’t need to be together. You’re too young to be married. There’s so much fun to have out there. You don’t need to settle down. Tell me this is some sick joke.”
Steve broke first, a grin spreading over his face. He started laughing, and it didn’t take long for Billy to join in. He licked a finger, swiping it down Steve’s tattoo, which thankfully started to smear.
“Oh, fuck you,” Robin shouted, walking out of the room to the kitchen. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Billy laughed. “Because it was funny. We’ve been together for weeks, Buckley. We just didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being right. When you offered us money, it was too good to turn down.”
“Ugh, you guys suck. But I’m happy for you both. And pleased to hear that I’m right. Like I always am.”
#harringrovelovefest2024#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#chrisbitchtree writes#harringrove fic
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The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 19
Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18
Part 19!
***
If you ignored the skeleton-people (Jason sure was) and the floating furniture, the castle almost reminded Jason of Wayne Manor. In a vague sort of way. Lots of rooms, lots of hallways, a garden, a library, a giant dining room, etc.
It is much bigger than the manor, though. The building itself turns out to be thirteen stories tall, same as the library.
It needs it.
“It was already big when it was just the last king’s castle, but then there were three and eventually eight - now nine - permanent residents - not to mention the frequent guests and the standard visitors - which has grown it to what it is today,” Danny tells him, filling the silence as they fly.
Their first destination is the garden biome.
Rather than carved from the garden, the stone path he’d seen floats in the air just above the low-growing plants beneath, keeping stomping feet from causing damage while also providing shade.
The seating areas aren't floating. Instead, the picnic area and the benches here and there are all formed from still-growing trees, apparently shaped over their lives to serve their purpose while remaining healthy and alive.
The picnic table itself appears to be made from a single tree which rises from the ground and curls left to form a table and benches before reuniting in a single trunk to curl up and over as an awning to the whole thing.
“This area is Sam’s” Danny continues, drifting slower to admire a trio of what appeared to be potted bouquets. “My wife-”
“Wife? Aren’t you, what, 15?” Jason risked interrupting - for all the needle-threats and implied expectation of obedience (and the underlying sense of strength that radiated at all times, a memory of the title ‘Great One’ echoing always in the back of his mind) Danny had been… nice.
He hadn’t been bothered by Jason dunking him in snow, hadn’t gotten angry when he’d hesitated at the edge of the Far Frozen or held them up to stare at the island’s sky. He figured small talk was safe enough.
Danny merely snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m actually 114. Appearances here don’t mean a lot since the only ones that age are neverborns and naturalborns. And shapeshifters, I suppose.”
‘Chalk another one up for the fae theory’ Jason thinks, remembering tales of humans spirited away to unending parties and returning to find hundreds of years had passed without them.
Aloud, he asks, “...Neverborns?”
“Kind of what it says on the tin, really. Neverborns are never born, instead rising into existence from the ambient ectoplasm of the zone. They can vary immensely, though - from a tiny little blob with eyes to the concept of time given form.”
“Let me guess: a small green clock?” Jason jokes in lieu of the dozen new questions he wants to ask.
He’s glad Danny is so forthcoming with answers, and now he knows can ask more later, better not to distract the guy and risk missing something important on the tour - or hitting up against an unknown time constraint because he delays them too much.
Danny snorts a laugh, grin nearly cheek-splitting. “Not wholly incorrect. Anyway, you’ll get to meet Sam tonight at dinner, since she managed to finish up that recovery project a day early.”
“Recovery?” Jason asks - though he’s pretty sure he can guess. Being prompted to talk about oneself endears the target to the askee - that’s being a Wayne 101. More endearment equals more trust, which will make his eventual escape easier to manage. Yay for false senses of security.
(Just like the one Jason has been struggling with)
“Yeah! She does plant cataloging, conservation, and restoration. She also started dabbling in medicines a decade ago in conjunction with Jazz and Frostbite. She’s gotten really far with it considering everything else on her plate!”
Danny’s smile stays proud and content as he leads them inside to weave through the layers of the tree-tower. Jason can’t help relaxing the more they talk, the more answers he is freely given.
(He has to relax less, stop letting himself slip into trusting Danny. Danny shouldn’t feel like safety.)
(A part of him misses the Pit - it never would have let him fall prey to this kind of self-sabotaging emotional positivity - but isn’t that it’s own kind of Stockholm Syndrome?)
Despite the lush paradise just outside, the castle itself contains even more plantlife.
The tower is reminiscent of the library in that he can’t see the actual walls beyond the plants that cover them, a sheet of green - and other intense colors he wouldn’t normally associate with plants - cascading from ceiling to floor. The entire first floor is practically overflowing with the amount and variety, enough to put the garden outside to shame. The next seven levels are more of the same.
Then they come to what looks like labs - where Danny tells him medicine and ‘the opposite of medicine’ is dabbled in.
Wulf beelines straight through the ceiling to minimize his time in that room, and Danny doesn’t let him linger, suggesting that this one is better to avoid or “at least don’t touch anything.”
Danny practically races through the next two rooms - a large study and a conference room - grumbling out a simple ‘paperwork.’
Jason leaves it at that. He ran a gang; he gets the idea.
“And this is the sitting room!” Danny stops in the next room, arms spread to gesture at everything as he floats in the center.
It’s smaller than the lower floors, perhaps half the size, and is positively littered with beanbags, hammocks, armchairs, and one cushion-filled pit in the floor.
Instead of the plants from the lower floors or the ink-black bark of the labs, the walls here appear to be made of glass, glowing the same soft lavender as the leaves that can be seen curling around the room from all sides - save for a ladder in one corner of the room that disappears into the ceiling.
“The ones in the towers are private, though - just for friends, family, etc,” he explains. “The castle ‘s pretty empty now, but it can get really busy. If you need a place to escape to, you're welcome in any of them.”
Jason just nods.
It had already been clear that Danny was socially important, what with all the ‘Great One’s and the ‘meetings’ and the ‘my home is a literal castle.’
The three towers would be key locations; he and his spouse could be combatants in charge of this wing - or all three, given the implication of ‘any of them.’
Though nothing about the tree tower really screamed ‘military defense location.'
‘Some kind of royal relative?, Jason ponders, ‘Maybe a prince?
Maybe.
He’ll ask later.
Danny offers his hand again and phases them straight across the empty space between towers and into the private sitting room in the pyramid.
It’s a near mirror of the other one, save for the artificial scenery of a day on the beach projected over every surface - illusory water just barely reaching the cushion-pit before retreating back to the far wall.
“This is Tucker’s area - my husband. You’ll also meet him at dinner tonight. He’s already here, but he’s locked away in pyramid-lab 1 - the closest one of the three outside - updating his PDA.”
Jason nods as he scans the ceiling - the roof is flat instead of pointy, and once again the only break is a ladder into the ceiling.
“What’s up there?”
“Hm? Oh, the top floor of each tower is a bedroom.”
The rest of the pyramid-tower’s floors are similarly thematic, 16 levels full of tech that Jason couldn’t place and Tim would likely be salivating over - 18 depending on how the illusion projector worked and if the bedroom had something similar.
Unlike the garden, they skip visiting the pyramids outside - apparently two of them are mostly for paperwork and meetings, and pyramid 1 is closed up for now ‘for the obvious reason.’
‘It’s not obvious. Literally what part of a system update requires complete isolation???’
The next part of the tour brings them to an entire separate building inside of an empty room the size of the library.
“This is my parents’ area - they’re off on a hunt with Skulker right now, so it’ll be a few days before they’re back.”
It was a normal building, aside from the fact that it was inside of a castle and had a metal monstrosity on top of it with “SPECTER” written in bright green letters.
As it happened, the rooftop monstrosity could turn into a blimp. Or a jet.
The first and second floors were almost jarringly normal - bedrooms and closets set atop an open kitchen-dining-den setup that looked like something out of a Metropolis apartment advert.
Then it was rooms of giant open space - a shooting range, a training room, a training room with a simulator.
And then labs reminiscent of the ones in the tech-tower. Except instead of tasteful, high-tech builds there were labfuls of half-built devices that looked like a sci-fi novel threw up (so like the ones in the dining area and on his wrist).
The top three floors were armories full of similar devices, of which the top one was off-limits for being too dangerous. A few of the things in the second armory looked a bit sleeker, however.
One thing looked familiar.
“Is that a 9mm?”
It had the same hideous silver paint-job as the sci-fi weapons, but the only green was around the muzzle and trigger - no ‘Specter’ splashed across the side.
Danny’s eyes lit up alongside a shit-eating grin the moment they hit the weapon, and he practically teleported to it.
“Oh man,” he enthused as he uncaringly removed the weapon from its place on the wall, “I completely forgot about this thing; this is the Foley Bazooka.”
“Bazooka!?”
“I know right! Tucker figured out how to miniaturize the tech - my parents design, the big gun from Armory 1 - into a fold-out system. He and Sam used to mainly use lipstick blasters and wrist rays, and as you can see my parents' tech tends to be ‘bigger = stronger,’ which set some expectations…the look on Walker’s face when it folded open to blast him…”
Danny visibly tried and quickly failed to stifle his laughter, doubling over cackling while Jason took in the whole ‘blasting people in the face with Bazookas’ thing.
Thankfully for Jason’s Gothamite sensibilities, Danny’s laughter didn’t last too long.
And then.
“Wanna test it out?”
“...test it out?” Jason hastily shoved down the paranoid thought that Danny might be about to shoot him in the face.
(Not that it took much shoving when he felt so utterly safe.)
‘He wouldn’t keep me this long just to kill me now, he probably just meant the shooting range.'
“Yeah! Jazz said you seemed pretty enthusiastic about the Wrist Ray, so I thought you might want to try this out down at the range. It’s an older model, but it’s small enough to carry without needing some kind of sling-suit. Plus I figured you might like a higher-power option on hand - assuming you decide to keep it.”
Then, despite his better judgment, Jason asked: “...aren’t you worried I might shoot Wulf or something?”
‘Or you.’
“Of course not! Jazz already told me you have great aim,” he said, completely missing the point. “Unless, of course, you want to?”
His friendly expression didn’t change beyond a slight head tilt. Wulf merely snorted and bared his teeth in what might’ve been a smile.
“N-no!” Jason hastened to deny, “No, of course not, it’s just, y’know, a bazooka.”
Danny merely placed the gun back on its platform and floated forward to lightly grasp Jason’s shoulder and look him in the eye, expression softening in complete disregard for what his response really should have been.
“Jason, I know it might be a bit of an adjustment given how humans abhor violence - especially given the…brand of it... Gotham tends towards - but here? Fighting is just. Socializing. Not that there aren’t still serious fights, but the difference is almost always obvious given the whole ‘tendency towards unrestrained emotions and monologuing’ thing.
The risk of anyone getting seriously injured in a social fight is incredibly close to zero. It’s normal to want to fight; it’s like the human equivalent of saying ‘hello nice to meet you let’s get to know each other better’ combined with sibling roughhousing. Even most of the fights that do contain genuine animosity or disagreement would mostly just be the equivalent of a heated debate in the human realm. It’s okay if you’re feeling fighty - a good sign, even!”
Wulf nods along as if that makes perfect sense.
Jason uses the silence that ensues to try to think of a way to say ‘Actually no I just want to know why you would let me have something I could use as leverage to threaten you into letting me go home, which is a thing that I want to do because I like not being kidnapped’ without making it obvious that he’s a flight risk.
Before he can, Danny’s understanding and patient expression turns into an unholy grin. Jason has all of 2 seconds to process it before the hand on his shoulder disappears in favor of a tackle-grab.
He doesn’t know how fast the guy can go, but he barely has time to blink before he’s being dropped into a snow pile.
When he sits up, he is promptly greeted by a snowball to the face.
So marks the beginning of Snowball Fight 2: Battle Royale.
Danny’s second move is to wave a snow mound into existence for protection.
Wulf is opportunistic, siding with Danny initially, only to switch sides when Jason manages to lure them into the trees - where he can make use of their surroundings as protection in lieu of being able to make snow appear on a whim like a cheating cheater who cheats - and beans Danny in the face - vengeance enacted and vision obscured.
Eventually Danny and Jason end up teaming up against Wulf, which is when a new player arrives.
Jason can’t see her right away, given that their opening move is to empty a tree’s worth of snow onto their heads.
And when Danny frees them they both immediately get snowballs to the face - it’s becoming a bit of a pattern for Jason.
“Woo! Weeb Team versus Newb Team let’s gooo!”
The girl looks like she could be Danny’s fraternal twin if not for the fact that she was clearly a year or two younger.
Then again Danny was over a hundred years old, so what does Jason know?
“Newb!? I’m literally older than you!” Danny shouts, floating a little higher in offense.
“Then fight like it, old man!”
The girl fades from sight just in time for Danny to get knocked forward by a snowball to the back of the head.
Jason barely manages to dodge Wulf’s snowball, distracted as he was from the surprise attack.
With that, Snowball Fight 2 descends into a team battle.
***
@kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface
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Holiday 500 fic #6
@luxflora's prompt! I wasn't sure if I'd have time, but I finished! I hope you enjoy it <3
This is a highly undignified use of my skills, Venom complained in Eddie’s head as he stood in front of the mirror.
“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to whine. You accepting the text invite is what got us into this in the first place.” On his own, Eddie wasn’t much for office holiday parties. He preferred celebrating with friends and chosen family, if he celebrated at all, But Venom had accepted the last minute invitation to the Center for Investigative Reporting’s holiday party.
Because we need to get out more! Socialize! It shifted grumpily against Eddie’s small intestines. We don’t need to participate in trivial contests.
“True. But–” Eddie cut Venom off before it could butt in “–if I have to suffer through an office party then you have to suffer through a tacky sweater contest.”
Unfair!
“Fine, then.” Eddie crossed his arms with a huff. “I’ll just go and get some shitty sweater from Walmart and get last place.”
NO! It’ll be itchy!
“Exactly! That’s why I want you to be my sweater! ‘Sides, you’ve been bugging me about being my clothes for months. I figured you’d jump on this.”
You are still going to wear a shirt under me!
“Yeah? I’d still wear a shirt underneath a normal sweater, too?”
I want to be your only clothes. It paused and climbed hopefully up Eddie’s spine. I do not want to have to remember to be your sweater and not digest your shirt at the same time.
In all fairness, Eddie also didn’t want to wear an itchy sweater from the remains of Walmart’s holiday section this close to the end of December. He just hesitated at having Venom directly on his skin, no barrier between them, at a public party. It felt entirely too intimate. Also, Venom could be an absolute shithead about teasing him.
I will behave!
“Fine,” Eddie sighed and shucked his shirt off. “But you better be the best tacky sweater CIR’s ever seen.”
We will blow their tits clean off! Venom declared. It started emerging before Eddie could ask it where it had heard that particular phrase.
The cool prickling was familiar, though it was limited to Eddie’s upper body and arms. Venom’s concentration was palpable to Eddie as he felt the currents of its mass shift and the structure of its plasma alter shape. The blob enveloping his chest gains texture, and unthinkingly, Eddie runs a hand along Venom’s surface. It’s soft like cashmere and flinches underneath his hand.
Don’t distract me! Venom snapped and pinched Eddie’s side.
Eddie yelped, but stayed quiet as Venom started adjusting its colors.
At first it was black and white only, and then grays faded in until an image formed. Above and below were patterns of generic Christmas designs, though as Eddie watched those designs became lewd: reindeer fucking, baubles like balls at the bases of phallic candles, snowmen with a strategically located extra carrot. In the center was Santa lounging naked except for his hat and a large candy cane providing modesty. Saint Nick was in front of a merrily burning fireplace and heavily decorated Christmas tree.
Good?
“Excellent,” Eddie agreed with a grin, as bright, obnoxious colors faded onto Venom’s sweater form.
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STWG daily prompt 19/10/23
Prompt: costume
c/w tiny reference to alcoholic parent, brief mentions of John Wayne Gacy and his crimes, no details.
****
Eddie hated Loch Nora. It was supposed to be aspirational. Who in their right mind wanted to aspire to this? Faux Grecian pillars, dinner parties, two point four kids, banality. Conformity.
Fuck conformity.
He sat parked up on the street corner watching kids stream by, laughing and screaming at each other, trading swag from their bags. Eddie loved Halloween, but he’d never had this growing up. The cute costumes, a well coiffed mom to take you from door to door, showing you off to the neighbours. Isn’t he so cute? Even if his mother had ever been sober enough to take him trick or treating, he sure as shit wasn’t going to have any one call him cute, not where they lived.
He had to admit, some of the costumes were really cool. He’d seen a Han Solo, two Lukes and two Leias, and a few that could have been Chewbacca, Ewoks or Gremlins. It was hard to see from where he was sitting, they were just small, furry blobs. The Pac-Man got points for originality though.
Eddie stubbed out his cigarette, grinding it into the ashtray. He’d wasted a half hour here waiting for some rich dick and his friends to come meet him on a weed run, but he was calling it quits. There was a party tonight and they were probably already there. If Eddie found them they’d still get their weed, but they’d be getting the Munson Markup. Pricks.
He watched as four kids dressed as the Ghostbusters crossed the street in front of him. They were almost identical, and one of them even had a ghost trap. Fucking cool. The random Michael Myers tagging along was pretty gnarly aswell. Weird. Just how he liked it.
Eddie fired up the engine, and cringed as the old girl spluttered to life, the sound of Number of the Beast filling the van and drowning out the shrieks and laughter from outside. He was supposed to have left town in the summer, leaving the van behind for scrap, but fuck you very much Hawkins High. He was stuck here for another year. Eighty five, baby. In the meantime he had to nurse her gently or he was facing a long hike back to the trailer.
He was about to pull away when he caught the flutter of movement, a body on the floor. One of his little Ghostbusters. A group of older kids raced away. Huh. Yeah, no, fuck that.
He watched as the kid and his friend took off, before he got out of the van and sauntered up behind a shitty werewolf and his friends. The worlds worst Jason Vorhees and sick little fuck Anthony Arnoli was bringing up the rear, dressed as John Wayne Gacy. Motherfuckers.
“Good evening, boys, lovely night for it, isn’t it?”
The three of them spun round to face him. There hadn’t many plus sides to repeating senior year, but notching up the intimidation factor by a good fifty percent was definitely one.
“Fuck off, freak,” said Werewolf. Brian something. He recognised him up close. Eddie stalked right up to him like he was prey.
“That’s Mister Freak to you, Brian.”
“What do you want, Eddie?” Anthony asked, and gosh he had really tried, but Eddie knew he was scared. How perfect on Halloween of all nights. He spun on his heel, getting right in the boys face.
“Nothing much, just don’t like big kids picking on little kids.”
He could see them lighten at that, relax like he just wasn’t in on the joke.
“It was just zombie boy.”
“Who the fuck is… the Byers kid?”
Two goofy faces and a hockey mask stared back at him, laughing and nodding. Eddie wasn’t a bleeding heart, he had enough issues if his own to deal with and he just didn’t have time for every sob story, but this pissed him off. Maybe because it felt a little too close to home.
He didn’t know the kid, but he did know his big brother, Jonathan, and he was a good guy. On the freak dial like Eddie, just on another frequency. That family had been through hell last year, and even after the little kid was found alive (after his funeral, which… yeah, Eddie had questions he didn’t know if he wanted answers to) the town still ragged on his mom. A person who according to Wayne, tore the town a new one trying to find her kid.
Eddie felt the flash of pain of not having that. It was good, though. Helped sour his mood even further.
He pulled his knife out of his pocket, twirled it around his fingers.
“Hand it over,” he said, motioning to the sacks of candy with his free hand.
“Wha-“
He flicked the blade open on the knife, scowling at them, enjoying the way they shrunk back as he drew himself up like an angry alley cat.
“I’ve come dressed as Heavy Metal Robin Hood,” he growled. “I’m stealing from the stupid and giving to the smart. So hand me the fucking bags and then go home.”
They hesitated for a moment, looking between themselves, as if they were hoping one of them would have the balls to say no.
“I haven’t got all night, dickwads!”
They handed over the bags, muttered curses hidden under their breath.
“Right, fuck off. And you!” he pointed at Anthony. “That shit isn’t funny. The guy was a sick fuck who murdered boys. Burn that fucking costume, asshole.”
He watched them head off out of Loch Nora before climbing back in the van. He rifled though the bags, and they’d had a good night, or someone else had and they’d done to some kid what Eddie had just done to them. Eddie took a good look through his haul, cherry picking Wayne’s favourites, and then split the rest into two bags. If he was fast he might still catch them.
It only took a couple of minutes of driving to find them, though they were down to two Ghostbusters and a fictional serial killer. It looked like the Byers kid had gone home. Poor guy.
Eddie pulled up beside them, wound down his window and whistled. “Hey, Venkman, c’mhere.”
The three of them froze, and eyed him suspiciously. Venkman and one he thought might be Stantz bickered between themselves on what to do next. Eventually the little serial killer stomped toward his van, pulling off the mask.
“God, you’re fucking losers,” said the girl before looking up at him. “What do you want?”
Eddie smiled, genuinely delighted by her attitude. “I come bearing gifts, children.” He dropped the two bags of candy to the ground. “Make sure you’re other two friends get a cut of that, okay? Especially little Byers.”
“You know Will?” said the curly haired Stantz.
“I know his brother, and I know he’s had a rough night. So, feast up little gremlins. Happy Halloween, buttheads!”
He took the turning back toward Forest Hill’s, no longer interested in dealing to the kind of assholes that thought picking on traumatised kids was funny. He was stuck here for another year, and there would be more parties. Home was far more appealing.
#stwgdailyprompt#eddie munson#the party#cw mention of alcoholic parent#cw john wayne gacy#eddie munson fanfic#my writing#dreamy writes#halloween
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The Mattress Room
Prompt: I- hello? I come from Ao3 and it appears that you take requests/prompts? At least I didn't see anything indicating you weren't... Could you write some more Logan hurt/comfort? Maybe he's been getting better about not overworking himself, but maybe something is happening in Thomas' life (I know the winter holidays get really busy for me) and there's so much to do and he must finish it RIGHT NOW- and he just doesn't come out to do basic self-care for like a week. So naturally the others come to check on him (maybe returning to Remus hearing Logan's brain telling him to perform basic functions ("Why the f*ck are Lolo's intrusive thoughts telling him to eat?") necessary for survival?), and they all cat-pile. I've looked through like every Logan hurt/comfort on Ao3 and I'm somewhat addicted. Plus this would be a nice reminder that recovery's not linear, and even though things are getting better that still doesn't mean you're not still healing. You can just ignore this if you aren't taking requests, thanks anyways. Bye!
-Raven
Read on Ao3
Warnings: intrusive thoughts
Pairings: dlampr
Word Count: 3088
Surely, it has not escaped notice that the Sides, specifically Roman and Remus, have a habit of summoning mattresses seemingly out of nowhere. Where do they come from? Are they spontaneously generated? Or is there some hidden place where mattresses exist in an aether, only to appear in physical form once summoned?
An overworked Logan is the key to revealing this answer once and for all.
There’s a video script that needs to be edited so Roman can get onto redrafting before the deadline. There are applications that need to be filled out for insurance as the premiums have been redefined for this cycle and he needs to ensure Thomas won’t be overpaying. Gift lists and schedules have to be organized before the party this weekend. Second installment tax bills have been delayed so the payments have to be reallocated.
The pile on Logan’s desk does not seem to decrease so much as shift around.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, quickly calculating the runoff from last year’s gift budget, before scribbling down a figure and setting the piece of paper aside. There are too many gift ideas, he’ll have to go through them with Roman to ensure they’re actually getting people what they want. Which means he needs to schedule another meeting with Roman.
He glances over at his wall where the large calendar is. Most of the days have his tasks in neat, dark blue bullet points. A few have red bullet points as well—things that Roman has scheduled that he can’t infringe on—and there is one purple day every week for his check-in with Virgil. His eyes land on this weekend where the words ‘Holiday Party’ are written in black.
Right next to a green blob that’s suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Remus.
Logan muffles a curse and gets up, taking the cloth from where it’s magnetically stuck to the side of the board and wiping it away. It must’ve happened when Remus was here yesterday and they were coming up with new merchandise ideas. He asked Remus to be careful with the markers but accidents will happen.
He frowns when no matter how hard he scrubs at the mark, it won’t come out.
Did Remus bring another marker to this? Is that why this is hard? Or is there a prank war going on right now that he neglected to find out? He told them that he prefers to be left out of those, and even when he participates they should know his room is off-limits. There are too many things in there that would take a bit of good-spirited fun to actual feelings being hurt and he can’t have that, not when there are so many deadlines.
Why isn’t this stain coming out?
Glancing around, he spots the bottle of cleaner and sprays it on the rag, careful to hold it away to avoid hitting the board by accident. He returns to scrubbing at the mark but no matter what he does, it doesn’t want to budge.
Logan narrows his eyes and grabs his own blue marker. He draws a quick line in the corner and tries to wipe it off. It comes away without a trace. He goes back to trying to scrub at the green marker and barely stifles a growl when it won’t budge.
The marker itself lies innocently in the tray with the rest of them.
Maybe Remus accidentally replaced it with a permanent marker. He snatches it up, examining it, only to discover that no, it’s the same marker he’s always used. He does the same test, drawing a tiny experimental line on an out-of-the-way corner and wiping it off with the rag.
It comes away clean.
So then why is this massive green blob in the middle of his calendar refusing to go away?
He resists the urge to thunk his head against the wall, but only just barely.
“I don’t have time for this,” he mutters, turning away, trying to sit back down at his desk and get on with his work.
But every time he looks up, he sees that stupid green blob out of the corner of his eye and it’s like an—
Well, it’s like an intrusive thought. How appropriate. No matter how hard he tries to force it from his mind—well, of course it doesn’t work. That’s not how you deal with intrusive thoughts. He would be better off just passively noticing it and not allowing it to interfere with what he’s doing.
But he keeps seeing it.
Over, and over, and over.
As a true last resort, he turns his back on his calendar, putting his head down and propping his hand against his cheek, preventing him from turning any more to see it, glaring at the shopping list as though if he tried hard enough, the list would write itself.
They need to go to multiple stores tomorrow. They need things from the normal grocery but they also need to stop at the other one that has a better pharmacy and they also need to go to the more expensive store because that’s the one that sells the good cheeses.
When was the last time he ate something?
He shakes his head to clear it. Alright, so that’s that sorted, finally. That’s a task he can cross off his list and set aside. The next thing to worry about is holiday travel plans. A few of Thomas’s friends are leaving town to go and visit their families but they’ve also asked for a get-together beforehand. If they go by everyone’s most recent schedules, the Thursday evening after next would be the best time for everyone to gather, even if it’s only for a few hours. Odds are they won’t be staying out very late—or staying over very long—since there is another weekday but it ensures no one will have to wake up early to catch a fight.
When was the last time he slept?
He needs to stop getting distracted. They’re a little bit behind schedule on video production. Of course, a lot of the longer projects are already underway and there’s not much they can do on those until after the holidays, but a few smaller ones have stagnated. Perhaps he can talk to Roman about those too, of course it’s natural for there to be a bit of a lull around the holidays when everything else is so busy but a progress report couldn’t hurt, right? Just in case it starts becoming a source of stress for Virgil because they haven’t touched the idea in so long.
He startles when there’s a knock on his door.
“One moment, please.”
Setting the notebooks and pen aside in any place they aren’t in immediate danger of falling off, he stands and adjusts his tie, making his way to the door. Opening it with an apology that he really can’t be disturbed right now, he fumbles when it isn’t who he expects to see.
“Remus?”
“Hey, Lolo.” Remus waves. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” he’s saying before he realizes, standing aside, “come—come in.”
Remus walks in, hands shoved in his pockets—wait, Remus doesn’t normally have pockets like that—and glancing at Logan’s overflowing desk. “You look busy.”
“I am, in fact, quite busy, yes.” He shuffles a bit as he closes the door. “You know how the holidays are.”
“Mhm.”
He opens his mouth to ask Remus what he’s here for when he notices Remus looking at his calendar. Remus raises a finger and touches the green blob that started this whole mess, before looking over his shoulder.
His shoulder that is absent of any green or black sparkly fabric.
Ah.
Well.
“Um,” Logan stammers, “oops?”
Remus huffs a laugh and comes to stand in front of him, hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah, Lolo, ‘oops.’ Be glad it was me that came and not Janny.”
“I really didn’t mean to, you have my word, I simply—“
“Hey, hey.” His hands come up to rest on his shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just—you know how Janny can be about making you admit you’re not okay.”
Logan scoffs. “Yes, I am quite familiar with Janus’s technique for such a thing.”
Honestly, thank goodness it wasn’t Janus. That sounds horrible but the last thing Logan needs right now is someone to rile him up more. It’s liable to make him say things he doesn’t mean simply because he’ll get angry at Janus and want to hurt him—not like that, but he’ll be angry and he’s no good angry, he just needs to—
“Lolo, stay with me.”
He blinks. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Remus squeezes his shoulders. “You wanna talk about it or do I have to sit on you?”
“…’sit’ on me?”
“You’re working too much and you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“And?”
Remus gives him a look. “And if I need to sit on you to physically prevent you from working, then I’m gonna do that.”
“Ah. I see.”
Remus nods, steering him over to the bed, away from his desk. “So talk to me, Lolo. What’s going on?”
Logan flaps a hand vaguely in the direction of the desk. “We have things to do.”
“Uh-huh. We have things to do. So why’re you trying to do them all yourself?”
“Because every time Janus tries to help with taxes it comes down to ‘eat the rich.’”
“Do you blame him?”
“No, but I’d like to not get arrested for felony tax evasion or attempted assault.”
“As much fun as that would be—“
“No, Remus.”
“—that doesn’t explain everything.” Remus gives him a look. “I saw Roro’s handwriting on some of that, you know we’re taking a break from videos right now. We’ve got all the other ones coming up, we don’t need to do more right now.”
“But there are all the other ideas for the interim!”
“Yes, and they are ideas. You and Roro have met about them and we all agreed that we wouldn’t do anything.” Remus puts a hand on his leg to preempt him getting up. “You need to stop, Logan. You’re working yourself too hard.”
“But—“
Remus raises an eyebrow when he can’t continue. “But what?”
Logan looks away, guilt and shame forming a solid lump in his throat. Unexpected tears begin welling in his eyes and he curls his hands into fists.
A sigh comes from next to him and a hand gently cups his face, turning him back to Remus.
“But what, Lolo?”
“…it’s hard,” he mumbles, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Remus’s face.
“Oh, Lolo, I know it’s hard. It’s always gonna be hard, it’s okay.”
“But I don’t want it to be hard,” he spits, even as Remus tuts and pulls him a bit closer, “I want it to stop.”
“That’s not how it works, Lolo, you know that.”
“But I’ve been better! I—I haven’t done anything in months. I’ve been eating, I’ve been sleeping, I’ve been spending time with you—well, less time lately—but that’s how holidays always are!”
“That’s enough,” Remus says sharply when Logan goes to pull away from him, “you know healing isn’t linear. You do, don’t look at me like that. It’s messy and it’s a pain in the ass but you gotta do it.”
“I know that but I don’t have to like it.”
“No one’s saying you gotta. Oh, hey…”
Because apparently, Logan no longer gets to decide when it’s an appropriate time to cry and Remus is reaching out to coax him into a hug because Remus is wearing soft things because he knew this was going to happen and—and—
“Did—did you do something to my—my calendar?”
Remus glances over and shakes his head. “No, Lolo. I didn’t do anything.”
“But why—why—“ Remus just gives him a look. “…oh.”
“C’mere, Loganberry, I think you’ve done enough thinking for one day.”
Logan closes his eyes and accepts his fate, leaning into Remus’s chest as his hands card through his hair. He fumbles to take his glasses off and shove them in his pocket before slumping bonelessly into the hug.
“Hey,” Remus murmurs after a moment, “you wanna lie down? You want the others? What can I do?”
“…the others won’t be mad, right?”
“No, Loganberry, they won’t. Roro or I can grab one of those big mattresses too if you want.”
He sniffles, wiping his nose with the handkerchief from his pocket. It would be nice to see everyone…he really hasn’t seen them in a while. He has been working too hard. But that does remind him of something.
“Do you…make new ones each time? Is it the same one? Where do you get them?”
Remus’s hand stills on his head. “You guys don’t know about the mattress room?”
“The what?”
Remus mutters something like no wonder you guys are so moody before he’s pushing Logan to sit up. “Can I summon Ro? Just real quick?”
Logan nods, slightly confused, and Remus reaches out and pulls Roman into the room.
“Re? What’s going on, I—“
It would almost be funny how quickly Roman goes from slightly confused to openly concerned, shoulders dropping to make himself seem smaller, if it didn’t make Logan want to cry all over again.
“Sweetheart?” He takes a careful step closer. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
Thankfully—because all of his speaking capabilities seem to have evaporated—Remus pats his back and looks up. “Logan doesn’t know about the mattress room.”
“Oh, I see.” Roman crouches down, reaching out to take Logan’s hands. “You wanna come with us?”
“Mhm.”
“Come here, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Logan raises his arms to let Roman wrap him up, coaxing him to his feet. “We’re going to sink now, okay? You just hold on…”
A brief pause later and Logan’s feet rest on something that is far squishier than his floor.
“Easy, easy, sweetheart, I gotcha.” Roman holds him steady when he wobbles. “You’re just standing on a mattress, that’s all.”
With Roman propping him up, Logan manages to look around, squinting a little for lack of glasses only for his eyes to widen at where they are.
‘The Mattress Room’ is the most fitting name it could be given. It’s just a massive room, almost larger than Thomas’s entire apartment, and the floor is just a giant mattress. There are smaller mattresses along the side almost like the lip of a hot tub only they’re mattresses, with firmer pillows and blankets strews about. There are comforters, weighted blankets, thin blankets, sheets, everything. Along one side is a window that looks out over a dusk sky, rich blues and purples with a thin stripe of pink at the very horizon.
“Hey,” Roman calls gently, getting Logan’s attention again, “you okay? Is this alright?”
“’S safe,” Logan babbles, “’s—’s real safe.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s safe. C’mere, come sit down—there.” Roman eases them to the ground, pulling Logan almost into his lap. “You wanna get a bit closer to the window or are you okay here?”
“‘M good.”
“Okay, sweetheart, okay.”
Remus crouches next to them. “You still want the others, Lolo?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go get them. You and Ro just stay here and get comfy, okay?”
Get comfy. He can do that.
Remus sinks out, leaving them alone in the ocean of mattress. Roman’s hand cards through his hair and gives him a little shake.
“Poof yourself into something more comfortable, darling, you’ll feel better.”
Logan grumbles but does, his tie vanishing as Roman snaps himself into a red T-shirt and sleep shorts. He grumbles again when he realizes Roman was right, this is more comfortable, but he’s not gonna say that.
Roman just chuckles and pulls him closer, lying down with Logan’s head on his chest. “There. This alright?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
It’s warm here, he realizes distantly when he wonders why he’s able to relax so quickly, like the bed’s been sitting in the sun all day. Well, he supposes it kind of has. He snuggles into Roman’s chest, making him laugh.
“You need some more stimulation there?”
“Mhm.”
“Coming right up.” The arm around his waist tightens and Roman rolls them over, smiling down at him. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
“Squished.” He reaches up and tugs Roman down until all his weight is on him, muffled laughter coming from his shoulder. “Mm.”
“Whoa, Remus, you fuckers have been holding out on us.”
“Language, but…yes.”
“How dare you keep optimal sunbathing spots from me? I thought we were friends!”
“The others are here,” Roman murmurs in his ear, “you want to talk to them or just cuddle?”
In response, he tightens his grip.
“Cuddles it is.”
“Logan?” Janus’s voice comes from next to them, a gloved hand stroking the parts of his shoulder it can reach. “Sweetie? You alright under there?”
“Mhm.”
“Have you been working too hard again?”
“…maybe.”
Janus chuckles and ruffles his hair. “Get some rest, I don’t think Roman’s letting you up anytime soon.”
Roman makes a show of getting comfortable. “Nope.”
“Wait, so this is where all the mattresses come from?”
“Eh, we just take bits and pieces from the big one.”
“That’s so cool, kiddo!”
“So how long have you had a premium sunbathing spot and neglected to tell me?”
“Thought you knew about it, Snakey. You’re always sticking your peepers into what goes on in the Imagination when I’m busy.”
“First off, never call them ‘peepers’ ever again—“
“Nah, nah, Remus said ‘peepers,’ that’s what they’re called now, J.”
“They are not!”
Logan can’t help smiling at the banter, making Roman smile too.
“It’s gonna be okay, darling,” he murmurs, “you just close your eyes and rest. We’ll be here.”
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#dragonbabbles#fic#sanders sides#logan sanders#remus sanders#sympathetic remus#deceit sanders#janus sanders#sympathetic deceit#roman sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders
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Prompt: “Proposal”
Extravagant dinner parties have always been a regular occurrence in Avengers Tower. So, Peter had thought it only natural to throw a slightly smaller backyard party as a housewarming for the new cottage. It wasn’t until he was nearly dressed that he noticed an embossed envelope left on Tony’s nightstand and realized that perhaps Tony had been making other plans.
Of course he couldn’t help but open it, no matter his better judgement. But when he saw the beginning of the careful handwriting, “Hey, kid,” he smiled so big and wide and laughed as tears welled in his eyes. He tucked the letter away and hurriedly finished dressing before their guests arrived. He spent the whole night buzzing, nearly bouncing off his chair. Tony surely noticed, as he wrapped a warm, steady hand over Peter’s thigh, and suddenly being held down made Peter feel uniquely free.
Knowing Tony, Peter had expected to hear the speech at dinner, in front of all their friends, where Tony could boast and make jokes and be adored. Instead, Peter was carefully wiping cheesecake from his lips with a silk cloth by the time Tony leaned over and whispered, “Come with me. I want to show you something in the garden.”
Tony saved every ounce of the adoration for Peter. He held Peter’s hand as they strolled leisurely along the paved path, smiling wide though no words had been said. Eyes averted with a laugh, Tony tried turning to him with a smile and an easy, breathless, “Hey, kid.”
But Peter’s eyes had already formed tears, and Tony choked, stopping in his tracks and turning to face him. “You’re- You look amazing, and- you… you’ve been– by my side for– oh, God,” he sighed as Peter’s tears reddened his eyes and wet his cheeks. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Of course I knew, Tony. Yes.”
“No, no. Wait, I’m not done yet, I have to- uh-“ Tony sputters as he carefully steps backward and begins bending a knee. “Hang on, this isn’t as easy as it used to be.”
“Tony, you don’t have to-“
“I do.”
“Yeah, that. Let’s skip to that.”
“Peter, just…” Tony trails off, having made it to the ground, and Peter giggles, swaying side to side as he holds both of Tony’s hands.
The wait is worth it, turns out, because Tony’s speech has Peter sobbing, gasping, and so enthralled he doesn’t notice the team gathering behind them. Until, of course, Tony’s trembling hand slips the ring on that third finger, and the entire group cheers.
Peter just laughs, watching them wave signs and fists as he helps Tony up, then pulls him in for a kiss.
A/N: Hopefully sorbet doesn’t see this and think I’m a talentless blob, but this is what I was trying to whip up within the last few hours of @starkerfestivals bingo. Not sure it’ll count so I’m not putting the card in, but thought it might still be nice to share while I’m here.
Update: It did count :)
#starker#proposal#my works#moodboard#red aesthetic#blue aesthetic#get it cause it’s their suits?#anyway#sfsummerbingo23#maybe idk#bye
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Hi! Could you please write a fall prompt where the parents have to take their kids Halloween costume shopping?
Written with @snelbz :) Happy Halloween!
Aelin watched Rowan stare at a rack of costumes in utter distaste. She found it cute, even though his nose was scrunched and his eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed. Their daughter, seventeen years old, grabbed two different costumes off that rack and went into the dressing room to try them on.
“Dad!”
The sound of their son’s voice broke Rowan out of his staring contest with the Wonder Woman costume that had him seeing red. He turned around and gave Devlin his best smile. “What’d you find?”
At nine years old, Devlin was into everything that connected him to video games. “I can’t decide between Mario or Peely.”
Rowan blinked. “Peely?”
Devlin rolled his eyes. “The banana from Fortnite. Gods, dad.”
With that, he walked away, back towards the aisle he’d been getting lost in. Rowan watched him go.
“Better catch up on your gamer lingo,” Aelin chimed, striding towards him with her head cocked to the side.
Rowan looked back at the women’s costumes and shook his head. “At least we only have one trying to show every damn inch of them.” He pulled a nurse costume off the rack and held it up. “Does this even go past their belly buttons? We’re about to toss her into a sea of teenage boys—”
“Iris can look after herself,” Aelin promised, chuckling at the costume. “Besides, she’s a teenager. It’s perfectly normal.”
Rowan’s jaw locked as he slung the costume back onto the rack. “It’s normal for her to want to give me a heart attack? Great. Good to know.”
“If memory serves, the cat costume I wore to our first Halloween party didn’t leave much to the imagination either,” she mused, stepping up to the rack and flipping through them.
Slutty bunny, slutty cop, slutty pineapple.
“That was different,” Rowan muttered, his eyes darting back to the changing rooms. “You weren’t showing nearly as much skin and your father—”
“Is dead?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow as she picked a costume out of the rack and headed over to the men’s costumes. With a laugh at her husband’s scandalized face, she began searching for a compliment to the one she’d selected for herself. “Besides, it was tight enough that it made up for how much was on display.”
Rowan remembered, gods, he did. He’d always thought cat suits were cheesy, a silly getup. Then he’d seen Aelin in one, her blonde hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. He remembered how he’d reacted to seeing her in that costume. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it isn’t working,” he mumbled, just as Devlin ran down the aisle, a green…blob in his hand.
This time, Rowan at least recognized it.
With just a shake of his father’s head, Devil came screeching to a halt. “You were a Creeper last year, pick something else.”
He huffed, letting the costume package fall to the side. “But—”
“But what, Devlin Rian?” Aelin asked, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised.
His shaggy blonde hair hid his eyes as he turned around and headed back down the hall, quietly mumbling something that sounded like “Creepers are the best.”
They watched him disappear before Rowan turned back to his wife. “I don’t want to dress up this year.”
“I don’t care what you want to do,” Aelin clarified, turning back to the rack of men’s costumes and flipping through them, one by one. “We’re taking Devy trick-or-treating. You can’t be boring.”
Rowan sighed but accepted his fate as he crossed his arms and stared at the closed dressing room door. “Shit, how long does it take to put on a costume?”
As if she read his mind, the dressing room door opened and his teenage daughter stepped out. She was beaming, dressed in a scandalous Wonder Woman costume.
Rowan couldn’t breathe.
“No. Nope. Hell no.”
Iris’ smile faltered. She had taken her silver hair out of its ponytail and hung it over her shoulders, but even it could not hide the amount of cleavage she was showing. “What?”
“If you’re wearing that, you’ll be wearing a matching sweater,” Rowan said, shaking his head. “You wear more at the beach.”
Iris gaped. “I do not! Mom!”
Ugh, that tone. Since entering her teenage years, Rowan had heard that tone far too often. It only pissed him off more. “Don’t call for mom. You’re not wearing that.”
“I think she looks cute.”
Rowan shot a glare at his wife who was watching their daughter with a smile, a costume of a knockoff Indiana Jones in her hands.
Rowan’s lips thinned. “I’m not wearing that.”
Iris scoffed. “You’re such a killjoy!”
She slammed the dressing room door shut, locking herself inside.
Aelin turned to her husband. “You really are, you know. Need help getting that stick out of your ass?”
Their voices were hushed, keeping their conversation from their children and the other customers, but anyone who saw the two would know to stay the hell out of the way.
He seethed, “I wouldn’t want you wearing that out in public, much less our teenage daughter.”
“She is seventeen, Ro, not seven.” Infuriating him further, she turned her back to him and kept picking through the costumes. Fine, if he didn’t want to be Indiana Jones, she’d pick a different costume for him. “Iris is nearly a woman now. She has hips and breasts—”
“By the wyrd, I’m aware of that, you don’t need to remind me,” he snapped, dragging a hand down his face.
“She’s almost eighteen, almost an adult, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders.” She faced him again and took his hand. The fact that he didn’t pull it away was a good sign, so she stepped closer and laced her fingers through his. “We raised her, Ro. We know who she is. She’s a smart girl.”
Rowan knew his wife was right, but he also knew how eighteen-year-old boys operated. His voice was guarded as he said, “Even smart girls make the wrong choices.”
Aelin’s eyes softened. They’d been eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Iris, just a few months into their freshman semester at the University of Terrasen. It hadn’t been wrong choices that had brought the most beautiful baby girl into their life, but it had been stupid ones.
It took eight years, two college degrees, and a disgustingly lavish wedding before they decided the time was right for another. Rowan loved both of them equally, yet at the same time, in a wholly different way. Yes, Devlin was his son, the one who would continue not only his blood, but the Whitethorn name, but Iris was his first born.
His baby girl.
And no matter how smart she was, she was going to a Halloween party full of eighteen-year-old boys.
He sighed, squeezing Aelin’s hand in his. “I’m not suggesting she dress like a nun, though I have seen a couple options in case she—ow!” Rowan laughed as Aelin smacked him, then wrapped her in his arms. “I’m kidding, Ace. I get it, I do, she’s growing up. I just…” He looked over Aelin’s shoulder to a display where the very same costume looked obscene even on a mannequin. “That’s a lot of skin.”
Aelin couldn’t disagree. “Telling her she can’t wear it will only make her want to wear it more.”
“Stubborn like her mother,” Rowan mumbled, before leaning down to kiss her softly, quickly.
“Okay. This is it. I’m tired of looking.”
The two looked over to find Devlin approaching, an exasperated look on his little face. He was carrying a simple ninja costume and a set of nunchucks.
Rowan lifted a brow. “Not going with your gamer theme, buddy?”
“They don’t have any of the ones I was looking for.” He frowned, pure defeat lacing his features. “This is fine.”
Aelin smiled up at her husband before guiding Devlin away. “Come on. Let’s take one last look.”
Once they disappeared, Rowan waited for the dressing room to open once again. Iris liked to take her time in everything that she did and this was no exception.
Rowan would be patient, though.
While he waited, he let his eyes drift back to the hun costume on the mannequin across the store. He wondered if Iris would at least try it on.
Before he could think on it further, the dressing room door opened and Iris stepped out.
This time, she wore a scantily pieced together little red riding hood.
At least it had a cloak.
Rowan ground his teeth. “That looks…nice.”
Iris lifted a silver brow. “Nice?”
Rowan gave her a curt nod.
Iris sighed, loudly and dramatically. “I suppose that’s the best compliment I’m going to get out of you.”
“Just get dressed and lets go,” Rowan said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “It’s getting late.”
Iris frowned and turned around to look in the mirror. “If you hate it that much, dad, I just won’t—“
“No.” Rowan sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”
“It’s just a costume,” Iris protested, meeting Rowan’s eye in her reflection.
“I know,” he said, and hesitated as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know that I overreact but you can’t blame me. I was seventeen once. Eighteen. At eighteen, I was sitting in a hospital, watching you be born.” Iris played with the hem of her cloak as he spoke. “I know how all this goes. I know your clothes don’t dictate what boys do. I know that you wearing that won’t knock you up, alright? I get that. It just…reminds me that you’re growing up. And I’m not always ready for you to be growing up.”
She winced slightly, as if she didn’t want to be having this conversation either, but then her eyes lit up and, despite getting his coloring, she looked so much like her mother that Rowan paled a bit. “Did mom wear a slutty costume when she was my age, too?”
Rowan turned from the changing rooms and shook his head. “We’re not talking about this.”
Quick footsteps and then she was squeezing his arm as she tugged him back. “She did! What was it? Mom used to be hot, I’m sure she had a great costume.”
“Used to be?” Rowan and Iris turned, finding Aelin approaching, Devlin not far behind. “I’m thirty-five, not fifty. Moms in their thirties can still be hot.”
“Damn right, they can,” Rowan murmured.
Both Iris and Devlin grimaced, but Aelin looked her daughter up and down. “I like it. The cloak is dramatic.” She turned to Rowan, a sculpted, blonde eyebrow raised. “What do you think, dad?”
Rowan looked at his daughter again, at the young woman she was becoming, who would forge her own path one day. “I think you look beautiful, sweetheart.”
He could have sworn he saw silver lining her turquoise-and-gold eyes before she looked away and headed for the dressing room.
Aelin gave Rowan a smile and a little wink before leading Devlin to the register, a little red riding hood costume in tow. Rowan waited until Iris was dressed and walked with her out of the store, his arm around her shoulder.
#rowaelin#rowan#aelin#tog#throne of glass#modern au#halloween prompts#snacmc collabs#second gen#second generation#rowaelin kids#rowaelin children#halloween au#fallish prompts#tara answers prompts#snacmc answers prompts#fanfic#fanfiction#sjm
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How one becomes the Ghost King
Ectoberhaunt 2022, Side Order. Prompt: Coronation
Summary: There's a competition to choose a new king, and the winner must go through some rituals in order to finally be crowned.
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It had been a competition between many powerful ghosts, Ancients not included, who wanted to take the throne of the Ghost King. The previous one, Frea Menes, was forcefully ended due to him changing his ways and destabilizing the Infinite Realms, thus changing his title and name to Drotten Menes.
The first of the trials given was a test of lordship, every single contestant’s lair was inspected to see the state of things in there, how the shades where doing, the way the ruler interacted with the visitors and guests, and the way the lair interacted with the rest of the realms in accordance to the size of it. Those who committed acts of unnecessary violence against their shades or visitors, those whose state of affairs were bad enough that they had no control over their own shades, and those whose lair weren’t returning enough from all they received proportional to their size were disqualified.
The second trial was a test of wisdom, those who were still within the competition were asked how they would deal with different situations, some of which were only solvable through dialogue, some only by force, some either and some which would be unsolvable if it weren’t for the power of hope each of them might have within themselves. Those who failed were disqualified as well, and the one who tried to argue and fight his way back to the competition was forcefully ended.
The third and last trial was a test of strength, one that was indicated by a fight against each other, and the victor of said fight would be the one that would be crowned the new Ghost King. Once the trial was over, only 3 ghosts remained, and of them Dark was the winner among them.
The Infinite Realms threw a party once the news of a new king being selected were spread around, and a new Year of Dark would begin as the multiple ceremonies to depict his coronation would begin in swing. The first ritual was the “Unification of Upper and Lower Realms”, and the last 2 ghosts who were competing for the crown were presented before King Dark, and he was given a club. Raising his hand King Dark swung down and hit both ghosts in their heads, knocking them both unconscious, after that he stabbed with said club to their chests, hitting true to his objective, and crushing both of their cores, ending the competitors that presented a threat big enough to his new rule.
The second ritual was the “Circumambulation of the Green Walls”, where a month-long parade was held in place with King Dark at the head of it, showcasing his own victory at the trials with pride and ardent joy in his heart.
Once the parade was done, a feast was held in the King’s Keep, “Appearance of the king” was this ritual, one where anyone was welcome to come and rejoice in the festivity of the ascend of the new king, with food to pass around between ghosts, drinks and ecto alcohol to drink around and celebrate, music to accompany the ambience and let the festive mood rise higher and higher, and shows of different ghosts and blobs to entertain everyone who came by, allowing them all to have a good memory once they left the place. King Dark, being the centerpiece of the ritual, wasn’t allowed to leave, and it was expected that everyone came at least outside once to take a glimpse of the new king, but that wasn’t an enforced rule, only a societal expectation.
The only exception of this rule and societal expectation was Kagu-tsuchi, a ghost dedicated to smithing and who could wield fire thanks to his elemental core, who was also in charge of modifying the ring and crown artifacts so that they would befit the new king during the last coronation ritual. During all this time, Kagu-tsuchi was busy returning the “Crown of Shadows” and the “Ring of Foresight” back into their blank states, which could only be done once the previous owner faded or was ended.
The function of each ritual was multipurpose, for the “Unification of Upper and Lower Realms” ritual was not only meant to end the biggest threats to the crown and send a message, but it also served as a way for the new king to absorb some of their powers and gain strength; the “Circumambulation of the Green Walls” ritual was meant to both showcase to the Infinite Realms the new ruler of it and to allow the connection between the Ghost Zone and King Dark to form, allowing him to have a lesser level of Omniscience across the entirety of the realms, letting him know whenever some big movement was being made within his infinite territory; finally the ritual “Appearance of the king” was made mostly to allow a small connection to be created between the king and any ghost that came within the Keep, letting King Dark gain some level of mental influence over all the ghosts that came by.
Finally the party finished, and the time for the last ritual came. Within the King’s Keep all of the most powerful ghosts made themselves present, with the Ancients themselves within the front row. Kagu-tsuchi came towards King Dark and handed him the “Empty Crown” and the “Void Ring”, taking a few steps back in order to see how the artifacts would transform to better fit the new king.
King Dark wore the crown and ring, and everyone saw how those slowly morphed and became now the “Crown of Fire” and the “Ring of Rage”. Kagu-tsuchi excused himself and left the keep, beginning his own search for a new hiding spot, for only he and the Ancient Master of Time Clockwork truly understood what the transformation of the artifacts meant. This was the beginning of Dretten Dark, and the precursor for the rise and fall of Pariah Dark.
#Ectoberhaunt22#EH Order#Day 21#Coronation#Danny Phantom#Pariah Dark#Ghost King#I did a little research on egyptian and viking history to know how those chose their leaders#The rituals come from Egypt and the trials are something I made based on how the Viking Chiefs were chosen#Also Frea and Drotten are 2 different titles for a viking king#Frea means Respected and Wise#Drotten means Vigorous and Warlike
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we deserve a soft epilogue
Fandom: MCC (but also more)
Pairing: Flower Husbands
AO3 Link in a self-reblog
Word Count: 1643
Jimmy always forgot just how exuberant Scott's family was in comparison to him.
Prompt(s): Family + Home
Jimmy was definitely cheering the loudest when Scott won MCC.
As he stood in the after-game crowd to look at the winners on the winner’s stage, he began to try and make his way through so he could stand directly in front of it and maybe get a smooch from his husband, only to get stopped by an invisible arm grabbing his wrist.
He almost flung whoever it was over his shoulder in some weird kung-fu move, but when he turned to see a transparent Noxite standing next to him, he slightly calmed down. Only slightly though. The MCC Admin was interrupting his potential kisses thank you very little.
A disgruntled glare was not enough to dissuade the Admin, though, and before Jimmy knew it he was being teleported to a balcony high above where he once was. He could still see all the competitors clapping and reaching for Scott on the podium, but they were more like blobs of color than defined human shapes. Wow, Jimmy didn’t even know this place existed on the map. It was honestly kind of pretty-
“Hey!” he just remembered what he was taken away from. “Excuse me, mister, but that’s my husband down there! You have no right to keep me from him!”
Noxite popped out of spectator mode while floating, so he ended up dropping a little to the ground as he pulled his gloves up higher on his wrists, “I know. I’m sorry for the abrupt kidnapping, but I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Scott, I mean.”
Er, what? “Uh, this isn’t a revenge shovel talk of sorts, is it? I know Lizzie was kind of aggressive when she talked with Scott, but I promise I did not condone her actions!”
Noxite chuckled, leaning forward over the railing to look down at all the players that took part in this month’s championship, “No, not at all.”
Jimmy went straight from panic to annoyance back to panic and then to confusion in the span of a minute. You have to forgive him for needing a moment to process everything. “Then… why am I here?” Jimmy leaned over the balcony similarly to Noxite, the chilly air softly rustling both their heads of hair.
“Yes, I want to talk to you about Scott, but not that way,” Noxite explained, still looking down at everyone except Jimmy. “I’ll leave that to the rest of the crew. I brought you up here to thank you.”
Jimmy blinked, “Wait, what do you mean by the rest of- thank me?! What for?”
Finally, Noxite turned to give Jimmy eye contact as he got up from the railing, “Scott was always a quiet one. Never said what was on his mind unless it pertained to work, always turned down our invites to hang out, you couldn’t get him to show up to a Crew Party even if you paid him. And I mean that, I genuinely tried!” Despite the somber tone the list carried, Noxite was still laughing like he was telling a story that was funny in hindsight. “That is until you came along.”
Jimmy let out a little choking noise that one does when they are caught wholeheartedly off guard, “Huh?”
Noxite went back to the railing, but instead of leaning on it with his arms, he gripped it with his hands as he looked back at all the players once more. Except, maybe not really, as his eyes gave the impression that he was looking at one player in particular, “One night, he actually showed up to one of the parties unprompted, and for a second we worried he was getting coerced by someone to do so. Then, he finally told us that you insisted he should go.”
Jimmy remembered that. He thought it was silly that Scott was refusing to hang out with his coworkers, his literal friends. Scott insisted that he did like them, but Jimmy just could not believe it, not when Scott seemed to try so hard at avoiding them. Scott retorted that he simply didn’t personally enjoy how they threw parties, but Jimmy reminded him that Scott mentioned never actually going to one, so how could he know he wouldn’t like it? Worst came to worst, he would just need to dip out a little early. Surely his friends would understand if they were his friends, yeah?
And thus came the irritating fact that Jimmy was smug for an entire week afterward because Scott enjoyed the party a whole lot, just like Jimmy assumed he would.
“Ever since you came along, Scott’s been coming out of his shell,” Noxite continued, breaking Jimmy out of his flashback. “He’s still the same Scott I invited to the team, the same Scott we know and love, but he’s… happier. Freer. Like a weight is lifted off his shoulders.”
With that thought in mind, Jimmy looked back down to stare at the same singular player Noxite was most likely staring at as well. You couldn’t tell what expression Scott was wearing from up here, but there was a good chance it was the same face-splitting, the ear-to-ear smile he had when he first got placed on the podium. One teammate seemed to ruffle his hair as the other threw an arm around his shoulders. The last one gestured to them to jump off the podium and head out into the crowd to find family and friends that participated on opposing teams.
A sort of blossoming warmth spread across Jimmy’s chest as he watched.
Noxite stood straight up, stretching his arms over his head as he yawned dramatically, “Welp, that’s all I needed you for. Figured I could catch you before you ran off with Scott to do whatever it is you two do after a competition.” He brought his arms back down, using one to reach over and ruffle Jimmy’s hair. “Welcome to the family, son. We’re glad to have you here.”
Jimmy wasn’t expecting the contact, but once he realized what Noxite was doing, he playfully swatted at the man, “Glad to be here, Mr. Noxite.”
“Please, just call me Noxite,” Noxite informed him. “Or Nox if you’re feeling it.”
“No.”
Noxite let out a hearty laugh, “That’s what I figured you would say. Now then, I bet you want to get back down there.”
Before Jimmy could even nod, Noxite became transparent again, grabbing his arm and teleporting them to the center of the lobby where the stairs that lead into the stadium were. Jimmy turned around to thank Noxite but paused when he noticed the man wasn’t there. He didn’t have too long to think about it before his name was being called out.
“Jimmy!” Turning around, Jimmy was met with the sight of Scott running toward him. The golden MCC crown rested valiantly on his head. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Jimmy grinned, and without hesitation he wrapped his husband in a hug and returned the kiss Scott initiated just as quickly. The lovebirds enjoyed the embrace for probably longer than necessary, but there weren’t any rude Admins to interrupt them anymore, so Jimmy would gladly take it. Once they finally split off, they decided to keep their arms around each other.
“Sorry about that, love,” Jimmy said. “Had a quick chat with someone else before they left. You never know when people are gonna stay for a few hours or leave immediately, you know?”
Scott hummed, breaking out of the hold and replacing it by taking Jimmy’s hand in his own, “Well, what if I said I want to be one of the ones that leaves immediately? I have some plans for the two of us that I want to start right away.”
Jimmy couldn’t help the blush that overtook his entire face, “Crikey, Scott, you don’t need to be so direct about it. Some of the children are still on the server!”
Scott grinned, tugging Jimmy toward their exit portal, “A server which I co-own, and literally just won on, by the way. I’m allowed a little bit of gallivanting. Would you prefer I just come out and ask you to-”
“Scott!” Jimmy chastised, but the giggles behind it softened any real annoyance it contained.
Way up above, almost melting into the clouds, was a handful of players watching everyone disperse to their familiar groups. The Hermits were all meeting up by the pool, the Dream Team were goofing off in front of the portals while they waited for the rest of their server to show up, and everyone else just hung out in various places. Illumina seemed to be challenging Fruit to a race. How fun.
“So, how do we want to do the shovel talk?” Stefan asked his coworkers. “Do you think dangling him over the void is too far?”
“Stefan,” Skye chastised him, “calm down. Besides, Louise and I already called dibs.” Louise, who was next to Skye, crossed her arms and nodded in agreement.
Jacob floated over to interject, “Here’s a crazy idea, maybe we don’t traumatize the poor guy into submission?”
“Opinion disregarded.” “Where’s the fun in that?” “You’re always so boring.”
“Alright, alright,” Noxite stepped in. “You know I was mostly joking when I told him you guys would give him the talk, right? Jimmy is the last person to do something heartbreaking to Scott. He couldn’t even kill a fly if it came down to it.”
The NoxCrew members all glanced at each other before Stefan blinked, “‘Mostly’?”
Noxite floated to sit in a relaxed position. It was as if he was laying on a beach chair; his arms were crossed behind his head and his left leg was crossed over his right. He watched down below as Scott and Jimmy fully left the server, “Well, you can never be too prepared for the unexpected in life, now can you?”
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Three... Guards? Ch 5
Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.
Their determination to protect Cloud was far greater than she was ready for.
Inspired by this prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien .
Please Enjoy!
Chapter 5: The Mission
They knew no matter how well they prepared for this mission, new road blocks waited for them ahead. First it was Jessie’s fake IDs failing on the train, making them walk along the rails to try and find their way to Sector Five’s plate on foot. Cloud wasn’t sure how many times he was willing to follow the ‘AVALANCHE dog’ before he looked for his own path. However, Tifa and Barret convinced him to keep going. And it’s not like he’d ever say no to Tifa. He would complain about it though, but even then he was far more pleasant and accommodating than he was when they were kids. He was still kinder than she expected, yet that didn't reflect his swordsmanship in the slightest.
Cloud was a beast on the battlefield.
Every enemy in range met their end quickly with their little party of three. Barret even made a joke of ‘where were you on our first mission’ before giving him a hearty laugh. Cloud rolled his eyes, but the smallest of a playful smirk played on his lips. Things were starting to get back on track before they wasted even more time trying to understand and activate the correct sunlamps to continue their way. Who designed something like this? This probably wasted more energy than it saved.
Luckily, things looked more familiar when they entered the reactor. Various elevators, twisting paths, endless rooms filled with security robots and personnel, all expected obstacles they were well practiced in taking down at this point. Cloud’s SOLDIER healing was absolutely something else. At very least, Tifa swore she saw bullets that didn’t break his skin. He wasn’t a perfect fighter, but he was leagues better than any mercenary in the slums. Shinra’s defenses had certainly changed since the last mission though. But since this was Cloud and Tifa's first one, neither noticed the difference.
Despite their skills, Cloud found himself looking back after nearly every battle. This may not be the stealthiest operation, but he kept seeing things moving at the very end of his periphery, only to completely vanish when he turned. He was understandably on edge in general, but this only added to it. If Shinra wanted to attack, they would wait until they were vulnerable, especially after destroying every machine thrown at them. And yet, he brushed the feeling off as they entered the mako chamber, convincing himself it was just first mission jitters.
He was wrong. Very. Very. Wrong. The blobs from the corner of his eye finally slipped into sight after failing to silently climb down the ladder in mako storage. Correction: one of them failed, landing with just enough force for Cloud's SOLDIER enhanced hearing to catch. The other two were still on the ladder, but they instantly realized it was too late.
They were supposed to be at the bar.
They were supposed to be watching Marlene.
They were supposed to be under the Sector Seven plate without causing any trouble, like they all agreed to.
“What the hell are you doing here!?” Cloud’s voice boomed up the high walls of the reactor. Only after hearing Cloud’s call did Barret and Tifa turn to assess the threat. Neither one of them expected to see the three boys that saved Cloud in the middle of the mission.
“What is wrong with you three?! Did you abandon my baby girl!?” Barret yelled next. “Are you three tryin’ to die an early death? Because if she has a single scratch on her-”
The brothers stood silently, looking at Tifa for the final questions to be thrown at them. However, the eldest’s eyes were already watery from the scolding.
Tifa just stared in shock at the three silver haired boys in black within the mako glow of the chamber. Her hands started shaking, her eyes on the sword the youngest used.
When they realized she wouldn’t respond, they answered the father’s questions first.
“We left Marleen with Marle to be safe… They’re both at the apartments…” Yazoo answered first.
“We told you we’re protecting Big Brother,” Loz spoke after swiping off his tears. “No matter what.”
“And do you have any idea how easy it is to follow you guys when you take out every security measure in the building?”
“Don’t be smart with us,” Cloud scolded, fury in his eyes. Yes, he was kind to them before but it was borderline suicide for three ten year olds to go on an ecoterrorist mission, no matter their skills. “You could’ve been killed. Can be killed.”
“By what- all the broken machines?”
His mako glare sharpened. “What did I just say?!”
Shoot. They really pissed him off. His increased emotions were acting against them now. They needed to be careful with their next words.
“We just wanted to protect you…”
“Y’all ain’t protectin’ anyone if Shinra kills you boys!”
They all looked away, shutting their mouths from the next snippy comment to come out of their mouths.
Cloud growled a sigh, frustratingly accepting this absolute mess of a scenario. Yet before he spoke, Tifa grabbed the back of his arm, her hands still shaking. He looked at her and all his anger vanished. Her head was down, blocking his eyes from hers with her head and her hair. She was nearly cowering, clinging to him in protection. “Tifa…?” He spoke as softly as he could. “Are you alright…?”
She should’ve been the angriest after everything these three put her through. She should’ve scolded him for his ridiculous ‘eye for an eye’ mentality, to protect them because they protected him no matter what they did. She should’ve thrown them to the first orphanage she could find long before this mission began, but he was the one that stopped her from trying. Yet she was quiet and trembling, not an ounce of frustration boiling in her. “Let’s just finish this… Please…”
I’m sick of this…
I’m sick of all of this!
The memory hit Cloud like a truck and he wrapped his arms around her in comfort. Their hometown. The fire. Her father. The reactor.
“Let’s just set the bomb…”
He wanted to obey, but he glanced back at the three boys that weren’t supposed to know any of this.
“It's too late now. Just set the bomb and let’s get out of here,” She steeled her voice against her emotions.
“Okay… Yeah…” Cloud hesitantly agreed, trying not to upset her any further. “We’re too deep in this now. We have to pull through.”
“You three are gettin’ one hell of a scolding when we get back.” Barret glared at the kids again before setting up the bomb.
“Is it a timer or do you have a remote?” Cloud questioned.
“Remote controlled,” Barret stated almost proudly while holding up the controller. “Gives us plenty of time to get out. Especially with this extra cargo.”
The youngest brother nearly hissed, his eye twitching once at his frustration towards them and the truth he couldn't reveal. The other two just glanced away like disobedient children.
After they set up the bomb and double checked everything worked, they headed back to the lone ladder they all came down. But the ladder quickly lifted up the second they were in reach.
Shinra was watching them. The director of security, Heidegger literally laughed at them and put the group on the news, stating that they were not only the ecoterrorists responsible for destruction surrounding Mako Reactor One, but that they also used child soldiers as backup, brainwashing and forcing them to obey. Of course none of the boys cared about the comment, but it absolutely painted AVALANCHE in a deadly light. The director sentenced them to death and told them exactly where it waited: the only exit in the reactor.
As a group, the six members made their way through the remainder of the facility, sending sections of the incomplete mech to a defective equipment room in order to limit its attacks. The boys tried to climb directly on the rails guiding the remaining equipment to destroy each one directly, but the adults all informed that messing with the assembly line itself could let Shinra catch wind of their plan, so they jumped down and hunted for key cards in every room they entered.
Everything was relatively normal until they all finally made it to the catwalk on the way out of the reactor. Multiple drones suddenly flew past them before projecting a cyan hologram of President Shinra himself. Regardless of the weapons before them, the three brothers surrounded Cloud and nearly growled in their battle stances. Guns out, blades in hand, fists at the ready. The drones scanned each of the adults first to give the president a perfect view of his enemies.
“Oho. The eyes of one who has bathed in mako…” Clearly Cloud caught the president’s attention. “Which would make you a SOLDIER?”
Cloud drew his blade, the slightest scowl on his face. “Ex-SOLDIER.”
“Once a SOLDIER, always a SOLDIER. Though not, alas, for very long.” The president continued as Tifa looked to Cloud in concern, “Accelerated cellular degradation being the most common cause of death by far. This is classified, of course, but every SOLDIER knows the truth.”
Cloud’s eyes hit the ground before he forced them back up with a glare. “...That’s right.”
“Yet knowing that, you still…” He cut himself off, clearly recognizing something. “...How did you find these children?”
“It doesn’t matter how,” Kadaj snipped.
“It most certainly does. Those are more than mako eyes. You three should go back to the lab, where you belong.”
“We’re staying here!” The eldest barked.
“We’re not your property…”
The president scoffed. “Everything involving him is ours.”
Kadaj immediately slashed the closest drone in two, rage already staining his breath. He was very tired of everything in every world circling back to him. “We’re not his either!”
The reaction made him raise an eyebrow, far more than anything else they got out of him. “Still, you’d make fine additions to SOLDIER. Where you belong.”
All of the boys nearly hissed at that.
“Think you forgettin’ someone!?” Barret finally pulled the president’s attention away, going on his usual rant about mako, the planet, and the Lifestream. The president brushed him off as pawns, his company’s propaganda spinning AVALANCHE’s little story as he saw fit.
Despite Barret’s back talk, the time for talking was over. Heidegger took over the hologram and released the Airbuster, giving the order of execution barring the three silver haired boys. The children were to be taken alive.
They instantly broke into pairs to take down the massive mech. Its attacks constantly shifted from destroying them head on and charging large attacks while barely within targets of long ranged weapons. Yazoo paired up with Tifa to make up for her lack of ranged options. Loz paired with Barret in order to do more damage when the mech was on the ground. Kadaj used their ‘take them alive’ order and his height to his advantage by attacking its hover engines underneath it. However, he could not survive under their heat for long, so he constantly shifted sides despite his obvious intention to stay by Cloud’s.
Was fighting alongside three small children against a mech on a terrorist mission extremely strange? Yes.
Was it as difficult as they expected it to be? Yes and no.
Despite their intentions, the combination of their weaker weapons and their inferior strength barely allowed any significant damage. However, against a foe like this, even the slightest damage mattered over time. All six of them couldn’t fight this thing forever, and they knew more security would be on its way if the machine looked like it was failing. The faster its death, the better. However, the boys needed to be extremely careful with the downgrade of these child-like forms. One dead on attack and they’d be lucky to be out of commission. Gods this was frustrating.
They didn’t know if they lived or died when the machine’s self destruction blew the team apart. A large section of the catwalk was destroyed in the explosion, five of them flung towards the exit, but one dangling on the opposite side.
“Cloud!”
“Big Brother!”
All of them ran to the closest edge to see the blonde SOLDIER holding on, unable to drop the massive sword in his other hand.
“We don't have long to get clear,” Barret stated the dark truth first. They didn’t have the time or ability to save Cloud now.
But he was more concerned with them than himself. “Take Tifa and the boys, and get outta here!”
“We’re not leaving!” The eldest brother yelled and was immediately pulled back by Barret. “No matter what!”
“This ain't the end of the line for you or me!”
“What are you doing…?” The middle brother asked.
The surviving drones began shooting before he could answer. They didn’t have time to think before thr bomb in the reactor detonated and fire wooshed out of the entrance. Cloud had no choice but to let go.
“CLOUD!”
None of them were ready for something like this, and only one thought fast enough to succeed. Cloud tried to use his grappling to save himself.
Yet when it failed, Kadaj jumped.
Both of the boys yelled their brother’s name while holding onto the only two adults that remained, reaching but unable to will their instincts and bodies to let go and chase after their brothers. Barret lifted the eldest up and grabbed Tifa’s arm.
“We have to go. Now.”
She shook her head quickly and tried to focus on protecting what she could, even if it was the boys that looked like the man who killed her father but saved her childhood friend.
* * *
Everyone was quiet. No one spoke a word until they were ‘safe’ again with Shinra finally off their tails but at what cost?
The boys had no idea what was supposed to happen on that mission even in their own world. They failed. If they're the reason their big and even little brothers died, through this butterfly effect, then what the hell were they supposed to do now? They didn't know what to do in general, let alone with this… feeling that wouldn't go away, one that kept their eyes down and their movements sluggish.
Tifa certainly had more of this odd status effect than Barret at least. It seemed Barret's little affirmations that Cloud would be okay only did so much to soothe her.
Even if Cloud survived the fall, the chances Kadaj did too were little to none. Not in these bodies. Not in this world. It wasn't like they couldn't function without each other. But Loz couldn't stop tears from falling and quite honestly it was just annoying to him at this point. He wasn't sobbing or incapable of doing other tasks, but his eyes and his throat were cursed with these stuttering emotions. Yazoo simply couldn't break out of somber silence, sitting at the bar with his arm supporting his head, his silver hair brushing the counter with his occasional shift.
Neither Barret or Tifa scolded the boys for going on the mission. They already knew exactly what they did. And Loz had a nearly soaked sleeve to prove it.
“Come on,” Tifa pushed, placing a meal closer. Some kind of egg dish that normally looked so appetizing to them. “You gotta eat.”
They shook their heads and stayed quiet, occasionally moving a chunk of food around the plate with a fork.
“Biggs is on his way. He'll be here in twenty,” Barret informed, finally giving them the distraction they needed. “Says he's got some info for us.”
Tifa nodded, trying to force her mind on the next task rather than the boys in front of her. She should take them to the orphanage in Sector Five. It would absolutely be better than anything she can provide while working with AVALANCHE.
“Are you going to abandon us too…?” Though extremely small, Yazoo’s question cut deep into their hearts. Neither adult answered.
“Why don’t you eat, and then we can talk, okay?” Tifa tried to avoid the idea, but they clearly noticed her dodge. In fact, they dropped their forks entirely and huffed into their own hands. Tifa and Barret just sighed. It wasn’t like force feeding would help either.
Luckily, the doors to the bar opened, but they were all confused. Biggs was absolutely too far out and the sign clearly said they were closed-
Tifa’s eyes locked on the man that entered.
He’s alive.
He’s alive!
She ran out from behind the bar to greet him in a deadly hug for doing something so stupidly risky. But she stopped herself.
It was Cloud, blonde spiky hair and all but… he looked different. He wasn’t wearing the SOLDIER uniform anymore. That wolf earring was definitely new, so was the wolf on his shoulder pad. And why was he carrying so many swords? He would never part with the Buster Sword.
Only the two Remnants knew exactly who they were looking at. It was Cloud. But it was the one they knew. From their time. From their world. They recognized him instantly. And he absolutely recognized them.
.
.
.
.
Thanks for reading!
Author’s Note: I almost googled what AC Cloud looks like before I suddenly dashed across my room. I finally found a purpose for my Cloud amiibos.
#ff7#final fantasy vii#ffvii#cloud strife#tifa lockhart#sephiroth#final fantasy 7#barret wallace#ff7 advent children#advent children#kadaj ff7#kadaj#loz ff7#yazoo ff7#yazoo#ffvii remake#also i did the thing that was suggested by the prompt creator#there is a plan#three guards#Three... Guards?
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Summer Lights
Sero Hanta x Shoto Todoroki
Tags: 18+, Angst, Fluff,
Summary: Sero meets the love of his life after going through the worst breakup of his life. Or in other words, he falls head over heels in love with Shoto.
Word Count: 2.9K
Masterlist
The Magic of Parties
Sero stumbled down the street after parking his mom’s car two blocks away. His day was not what he planned it to be. Tears were still streaming down his face, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to make up his steps. How was he going to tell his mom what just happened, would she even care.
As he walked up the steps, he paused to catch his breath before pulling out his keys and opening the door slowly. Stepping in the warm atmosphere, he noticed the music turned low and the light in the kitchen was on. In an instant his mom’s head popped out from the kitchen archway.
“Sero, Mijo, is that you?”
“Yeah mami, it’s me.” He sniffled, taking a breath hoping his mom didn't hear the hurt in his voice. Of course, his mother’s intuition is stronger than he'd hoped.
“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
“No, ugh, Ma, I’m fine. Really.” Now she knew something was wrong with him. Coming out from the kitchen she wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing to clean off what she was cooking. She grabbed his face and wiped the tears that were left in the corner of his eyes.
“Qué pasó, What happened, Mijo?” He could see the worry in her face, which made him cry more.
“It’s so stupid, I shouldn’t be crying.”
“Was it Hermes? What did that boy do to you?” What did he do to him? A very loaded question indeed. This simple question made him break down, and he stood there in his mother’s arms as he cried. He cried for hours that night.
It felt as if he didn’t sleep. He felt like the whole weight of the world just fell onto his chest. Five years he wasted his life, and love on a man who in the end didn’t care to fix their relationship. This made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t hold food down.
Two weeks of staying home brought a few problems to his doorstep. Two of them being his friends, Eijiro and Denki. For once, they did something useful for him though. They brought him 2 weeks worth of homework from the classes he has missed. As they sat in his room, he felt like a big blob of stagnant energy.
“Hey man, we really need to get you back to school.” He looked up to see Eiji scooting closer to him. He shook his head as tears welled up in his eyes.
“You don’t understand. I can’t go back there. Not with him.”
Denki and Eijiro looked at each other, they knew how painful this was for him. Sero basically worshiped the ground Hermes walked on.
“What about baby steps? You need to at least get out of your room.” This was Eijiro again, the more encouraging out of the two.
“Yeah man, It really reeks in he-” He heard Denki get hit with something from across the room. “Okay well what I mean is, you should come to Kat’s party tonight. He’d want you to be there.” Sero looked up at Denki, who was giving him a soft smile.
“I don’t think he would want me there, I’d really just be a downer the whole time.”
“No man, we'll be by your side the whole time. Besides, Izuku’s friends are coming. You know Kat’s new boyfriend?” This was Eiji’s turn to be hit with an object from across the room.
“Katsuki is actually dating Izuku? I thought he didn’t like him at all?”
“You’re kidding right? He’s been pining for the kid for years.” Sero sniffed as he looked up at Eijiro. He thought about going to the party, but he didn’t know if it would be worth the time.
Fuck, but it would be good to get out of the house and get wasted, or high.
“Fine, I’ll go, but if there’s no weed then I’m leaving and not coming back.”
Denki shot up like a bullet after hearing that statement.
“My guy, You’re gonna be in good hands tonight.” Denki shouted, prompting Sero and Eijiro to give each other a look.
After hours of helping Sero clean himself up, they all ran to catch the next train to Katsuki’s neighborhood. Once they made it they made their grand entrance which made Katsuki bark at them for being too loud in his house.
“Tapeface, where the hell have you been, I hate you not being in our film class.” His blonde friend handed him a drink and stood next to him as everyone mingled.
“Kats, you know where i’ve been, or have you forgotten the catastrophe that happened at the last mixer we went to.
“It’s just not the same, your idiot ex is being such a dickwad to everyone in that class.”
“He was a dickwas before he was my ex too.”
“Ugh Whatever. Hey listen, come meet some of Izuku’s friends. You need intelligent people to talk to besides those two bozos.” This comment made Sero laugh. Of course he loved Eijiro and Denki, but he did need a break from their plots.
“Sure, that’d be cool.” He kicked himself off the wall, and followed Katsuki to the next room where Izuku sat with his friends. They all looked pretty smart, just by the way they looked. Katsuki took a seat next to his boyfriend, and Sero sat on the couch next to the girl with the rosiest cheeks he’d ever seen.
“Ochako, Iida, this is Sero Hanta. He’s a Theatre Major with a focus in Directing.”
Sero waved with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you both.”
“The pleasure is mine, It’s not often you meet a theatre major. My name is Iida Tenya, Business major.”
“My name is Ochako, I’m a Sports Medicine major. It’s nice to meet you!” He smiled at the both of them. They both seemed really nice. Sero seemed to forget about his troubles as he talked to them, the conversation was very fulfilling, and lots of laughs were shared.
At some point during the conversation, Izuku got up to let in a friend he said was running late. A few moments later he came back in with another boy. When Sero looked up, it seemed as if the whole world went silent. It was as if he saw an angel.
“Sero one more person I want you to meet!” Izuku smiled brightly at him as he pulled the boy closer. “ This is Shoto! He’s from Japan, and he came to get a Writing degree!”
Sero stood up, he was too stunned to speak at how beautiful this boy was.
“H-hi! I’m Sero, I’m a Theatre Major.” He smiled and held out his hand to shake the other boys, which he took happily.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Shoto gave Sero a warm smile, he could tell that there was a blush creeping up on his face. Again, they all sat down and continued to talk for a while longer. Sero noticed his drink was running low, so he decided it was time to make a new one. He stood up, and smiled at everyone.
“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go grab another drink.”
“Oi! Take Icy Hot with you. He looks parched.” Sero looked confused at the new Nickname, he quickly glanced at everyone to figure out whom he was referring to. Until his eyes fell on Shoto. The boy stood up and walked up to Sero, and now it made more sense. He didn’t notice at first, but Shoto had two toned hair. Shoto looked up at Sero and smiled.
“Yeah yeah, uhm, this way then.” He felt like he was sweating bullets. Sero led them both to the kitchen where it was significantly quieter than the rest of the house.
“What’s your poison?” Sero finished pouring himself a cup on Rum and Coke, and he began to grab a cup for the other boy.
“Whatever you’re having would be good.” He seemed a little nervous, but all Sero could do was smile and begin to pour the drink for Shoto.
“So how long have you been here in New York?” Sero asked to begin the conversation.
“About two months, I’m originally from Washington, but my family moved to Japan when I was little.” Once he was finished pouring the drink he handed it to Shoto who thanked him and took a drink. “Wow this is well mixed!”
“Thanks, lots of practice from all the parties I go to.” He laughed.
“You go to that many parties?” Shoto looked up from his cup with a smile.
“No that was a joke, my mom is a bartender so I learned some of these from her.”
“That’s really cool.” They both stand there for a moment awkwardly. It seemed that the both of them were nervous and as a result this made them both blush.
“So.. Theatre.. That seems really fun!” Shoto surprised him with the statement.
“Oh well.. Yeah! I love it, I guess you can say I’m very passionate about the performing arts.” Sero smiled “I’m a very passionate person in general.”
“You are? I like that.” Shoto blushed as he looked up at Sero. This made his heart skip ten beats. Though he was not about to be anything but cool.
“Is that so? You know.. I’d be very passionate about getting to know you better. If you’d like?”
“I think I’d be passionate about that too.” This made Sero grin widly. He pulled out his phone and opened his contact book. Handing his phone to Shoto, he could see the glimmer in the other boy’s eyes. Was he really doing this? Was this even right to do? I mean it’s not like he has anything to lose. After Shoto put his number in his phone he handed it back.
“Just text me what day you’re available and we can meet at a coffee shop?”
“That would be perfect.” Sero grinned as he looked down at his phone. Noticing the time, he gasped loudly.
“Oh shit, I gotta go. I’m so sorry, it’s been really great talking, but I gotta get home now.” Sero chugged the rest of his drink. He practically ran out the door, not saying bye to anyone. Having a curfew was honestly the worst sometimes, but he respected his mom in that sense.
While he was on the train, his phone chimed. Opening up the messenger app, he noticed it was Shoto.
‘I can’t wait to see you again. I hope you make it home in one piece.’
Sero smiled at the message, this felt new. Like something he was going to have to experience for the first time.
‘I’ll make it home, it’s what’s waiting for me there that I'm worried about lol.’
‘Well, still. As long as we can meet up soon.’
‘I’ll be looking forward to it.’
When he got home, his mom was of course waiting for him in the living room. He crept in slowly so he wouldn’t be as loud since it was almost 11pm.
“I’m glad you made it home on time.” His mom said quietly. This made Sero jump out of his skin.
“Jeez Ma, You scared the crap outta me.”
“Oh sorry Mijo! I was trying not to sneak up on you.” After taking off his shoes, he walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “So.. What’s his name?”
This definitely made Sero choke on his own air. He swore that this woman was a witch or at least a psychic.
“What are you talking about, Mami?”
“Oh nothing, you just seem happier, I can feel your aura and its different.” She sighed as she looked up at him. “Just be careful Mijo.”
He smiled softly to himself.
“I will, Mami.”
Before he went to bed that night he sent a quick text to Shoto hoping he would see it the next morning.
‘I’m free all day tomorrow if you want to get that coffee.’ After sending the text he received an immediate reply.
‘I guess I’ll see you tomorrow! :)’
#mha#mha fanfic#sero x todoroki#seroroki#my hero academia#fanfiction writer#angst#fluff#mha imagines#shoto torodoki#sero hanta
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Caroline's Nightmare
--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial
Twitching her fingers, Caroline tried to imagine playing a nocturne, while summoning the few sparks that the tips could conjure. Like a lamb struggling to leave a cruel owner, she edged herself so that the ropes would loosen, but they only remained persistent in their purpose to subdue the magic fermenting in her blood.
The crowds multiplied in front of her--despite their burnished faces and their constant conversations, they only mutated into an anonymous blob. Only in parties would she note the toxic energy which pervaded a crowded room, one which mixed the scent of grilled pork with blooming oranges and the slight taste of gardenia. Kicking her legs to get them to move, she only felt the splintered wood pierce into her back, letting droplets of blood fall onto the pyre.
A mysterious woman sauntered over to her, with only an emerald cloak to distinguish her from the rest of the crowd. The fire she bore on her torch wasn't the ordinary kind, born out of oxygen reacting to anything it touches. It burned ice, with wispy sparks falling as if they were bits of moonlight falling out of the sky. Caroline marveled on how they fizzled on the ground, as if it were just dried ice for the stage, not for the execution.
"Do you parents know you have magical powers?" The woman whispered, never giving away her identity for even a moment. Caroline trembled, but escape eluded her like
"No."
"Why did you garner powers over fire?"
"I don't know--I just suddenly noticed them one day and just learned more about it. I'm not that special to receive such magic. Nor would I know how to improve them," Caroline mumbled, seeking for a sympathetic eye.
The woman nodded. A golden brown lock fell in front of her face, but she gently brushed it back into her hood. The glory in her velvet hood contrasted to Caroline's simple denim and cotton ensemble, her bare feet stood out for paling in contrast to the burnished landscape.
"What I have done to you?" Caroline asked.
"No, but you will do something worthwhile for me after this," the woman murmured, holding the icy flame to Caroline's face. Her eyes widened and her turquoise irises glowed with a sudden light, turning into a grayish blue. Grabbing at her ropes, Caroline kicked to get a better view of the crowd, of which another woman shuffled through the crowd. A pot crowned her head, but she balanced herself as she held a silver talisman in her right hand, hanging by a black chord. Silence reigned as she faced Caroline, who glanced down at this sorceress.
"Who are you?" Caroline asked. "Why are you familiar?"
"I could save you, should you desire," the woman muttered, while focusing on the icy flame. "You have to speak for yourself, and then you can be free."
Caroline's mouth gaped, trying to comprehend everything. Struggling to get her hand on the talisman, the mysterious woman grimaced before tossing the torch at the pyre, turning the wood into a glistening fire.
#flash fiction#my writing#writers on tumblr#creative writing#rival realms#fantasy#speculative fiction#nightmare#cw: burning#writeblrcafe
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✨prompt party prompt party prompt: robinpile + slice of life?✨
you said robinpile and i made it my mission to include as many characters as i fucking could
My youth is yours
In the intersection of meaty thighs and broad shoulders they meet almost every night, when the bruises aren't too big and the soul scars have stopped bleeding. The start of all this is unclear, and each of them will take it back to a different cause. It came in naturally, perhaps because of overexposure or from lack of any kind of exposure at all.
Tonight's not a night for thinking.
Sprawled out on the couch, bandages holding his ribs in place and a bruise the size of a building on his face, Tim stays put and it would've been a surprise if Steph wasn't the one keeping him there. As it is, Jason laughs as he goes to sit next to blondie, wraps an arm around her stomach and squeezes her middle like it means nothing. (It means comfort.)
"Brick to the face?" Duke asks from where he's sitting, on top of the table instead of using one of the many empty chairs. No one says anything, though, because they are all the same.
"He fucking wishes," Steph laughs, leaning into Jason's side and her legs are still thrown over Tim's lap. Tim knows better than to try and pry them off.
"Yeah, Timbo's masochist strike didn't get to come in handy this time," with a snort, Jason kisses the top of Steph's head, sends Tim a playful look, "or maybe it did."
With a slightly nasal voice, Tim groans, and it's not because of his cracked ribs—not this time.
"Not a masochist."
Dick calls, just then. Says he will be there soon, he's bringing Damian with him.
The nest is certainly big enough.
-
Duke is eating pancakes the second Jason gets them out of the pan. He complains as he burns his fingers, his tongue, his lips, but he keeps doing it and Jason's nothing if not the biggest enabler. So they keep it up.
"You better leave some!" Steph yells from the living room, this time carefully cuddling into Tim's side, and they are keeping the t.v. low enough so that it doesn't drown out any kind of sound.
Which is why they all hear Dick coming up the rickety stairs, followed by Damian. Jason playfully snaps Duke's hand away when he goes for another one.
"Didn't you hear the boss?" he says, making the other laugh and when he presses a kiss to the corner of Jason's mouth, it tastes like butter.
The front door opens. Dick's voice is loud enough to bring actual life to a zombie party.
"Alfred made cake!"
"Shit," Tim can be heard saying, "we better call Harper and Cass, they will be so disappointed if we don't let them know—"
"They are on their way here," Damian scoffs and he's presumably the one to close the door because Dick surely didn't.
It's a calm night. A rare night, as it is.
-
When Jason gets caught under rubble with no comms and a broken helmet, everyone else goes absolutely crazy in their frantic search for him. Because, because—they can't pinpoint his position. Among all the explosions and crumbling buildings, they have lost track of each other and—
Damian finds a little kid crying as she hugs onto her dirty plastic toy. She's on her butt sitting in front of yet another pile of debris and she's hyperventilating and—
"Big sis," she sobs out with big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, "big sis is… is… he," and Damian's mental approach to the situation flips on its entirety, "he said, said he was gonna…," the little girl hiccups, choking on air and on her own spit. He pats her back awkwardly. He's not Grayson. "He was g-gonna… gonna get her, her out a-and…"
He nods and tries to give her a reassuring smile. He's sure he fails.
"Found Hood's whereabouts," Damian speaks into the comms and everyone starts talking one over the other, "stuck under rubble with a civilian. Requesting backup."
Which he didn't really need to do, because everyone who was ever Robin and then some is rushing to help.
-
Where they are, the bed is almost not big enough to fit all of them yet no one wants to move because—loss had been too close to them yet again. And it never gets easier.
Cass is the one awake when Jason's eyes flutter open. She smiles at him and that's the first thing he sees. Then he groans, because he tried to move a broken arm to touch her and he didn't know it was broken. That wakes everyone else up.
"Jay!" Dick cries out with a wobbly smile on his face.
Duke has to disentangle himself from somewhere half under Steph and Harper to reach out, squeeze Jason above his right knee where he's not hurt. "Fucking asshole," he says and everyone agrees.
"Ya love me," is all he gets to say before they all start complaining.
They do love him, though.
He's always right about that.
-
They are all squeezed in a corner booth, fries and burgers strewn over the table and Damian, with Cass' input, is drawing a detailed map of all the places in the city they are going to hide surprises for Steph to find. Her birthday's getting close, after all, and she always enjoys a good chase.
"Who's gonna be bait?" Harper has her mouth full with fries and it's a little gross but no one judges her.
"Duke," Jason says without thinking at the same time Duke says:
"Dick."
Silence takes over for exactly one minute.
"Why me?"
Duke snorts. "She gets to chase your ass all over the city. She'll love that."
"Ooh yes," Tim's smiling so widely he's practically a billboard sign promoting mischief, "can I join her?"
"Can we all?" Harper grins.
Frowning, Damian kicks Tim's leg under the table. "No. This is for Steph."
"Awwwww," cooing in a disgustingly fake voice, Jason waves a soggy fry in Damian's general direction. "You luuuuuuve her!"
"We are all one big polyclue, Jason," Duke leans into his side, steals a bite off his burger.
"Yes," Cass then reaches out to grab all of his fries, "he loves her."
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Tolerance
Summary: Johnny and Kitty are fighting again, Ember's on Kitty's side, and thus, Danny has to steal a bike.
based on @jackdaw-sprite 's prompt "Danny realizes that underage drinking laws might be different in the ghost zone." and @aggressivelyclueless' prompt "Party night at Ember's! Rock music, drinks, bad movies and bad decisions: during a ghostly game of truth-or-dare, the pranks get a little out of hand when somebody dares a certain half-ghost in attendance to steal Johnny Thirteen's motorcycle…"
(2nd fic in drunk in one shot series)
Warning: implied/referenced underage drinking
Ao3 Link
~
“I dare you to steal Johnny’s bike.”
Danny made a face. “Uh, didn’t Johnny get uninvited…?”
“Yeah, and?”
He held up his hands. “Nothing, just checking.”
Danny avoided Ember’s gaze and studied the little blob ghost curled up in his lap. She narrowed her eyes.
Oh dang, he’s gotta save this. “I can totally take his bike from him! In fact, I can- I can take his jacket too!”
The room erupted into cheers. “That’s the spirit, Dipstick!” Ember said, slapping him on the back.
---
The night started out well. Danny showed up to Ember’s party with a bizarre and highly flammable invitation in his hands hoping for a quiet night with some kind-of-friends and kind-of-enemies. He wasn’t really complaining about the full-on party atmosphere he showed up to instead of the girls’ night he was expecting.
Everything was already in full swing when he arrived, but Ember let him know they were waiting on him so they could start the truth or dare. Seeing nothing to lose and everything to gain, Danny readily agreed.
Well, there was something he had to clarify first.
---
“...and if you lose, you gotta take a shot!”
“You realize I’m fifteen, right?” Kitty raised an eyebrow. Danny leaned closer and whispered, “I saw Walker in the kitchen.”
“I know. I just got a refill.” She shook the red plastic cup in her hand. “Why are you whispering?”
“Because I don’t wanna get arrested.” There was a blank look on Kitty’s face. “For underage drinking.”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “Right, human laws.” She waved a dismissive hand. “We don’t have any drinking laws in the Zone.”
Danny’s eyes nearly popped out of his head and his excited grin was just this side of not-quite-eerie. “No fucking way.”
“As long as you’re a ghost, what does it matter?” She laughed. “I mean what’s really gonna happen? Most ghosts are dead so there isn’t really a worry about consequences. Well, that and the fucked up and inconsistent legal system.”
“Oh fuck yeah. I’m gonna—” Wait. There was definitely something concerning in what she just said. “What do you mean most ghosts are dead?”
“C’mon kid, that’s just common knowledge! I mean, haven’t you met—?” Kitty was cut off when a different teen ghost—one that looked like they came straight off a boyband cover—tugged at her wrist and gestured towards the bean bag chairs. “Oh, sorry Danny, I’ll tell you later. Need to grab a good spot before they’re gone!” And before he could protest, Kitty and the teen ghost rushed over to fight another pair of ghosts for the bean bag chairs.
---
The game hasn’t started yet and though he’s really curious what alcohol tastes like, he refuses to lose on purpose. He could enjoy a victory drink when this was all over and he was the only one left sober.
Though, he did start to sweat a little hearing some of the dares thrown around. The party had at least three dozen ghosts hanging around, participating or watching around the circle of players loudly trading questions and dares in the living room. Danny himself was sitting on the couch between Ember and Skulker.
He started off nervous and tense, laughing awkwardly and subtly leaning away from the knife handle poking out of Skulker’s belt, but as more and more truths were revealed and dares completed or failed, he started to relax. At one point, a little blob ghost introduced themself to him and settled on his lap. They didn’t have a name, but he took to calling them Blobbert in his head.
The sofa cushion was soft against his back and despite missing the chance for the bean bag chair, Danny thought this was a good trade. He laughed as he watched Kitty pull back in disgust from the teen ghost beside her—he thought she called him Drake once—and promptly take a shot without acknowledging his dare at all. The room laughed and Drake threw an arm around her, which made her roll her eyes, a fond smile on her lips.
The game continued on, but Danny had resigned himself to never getting called. There were dozens of ghosts around and no one was enforcing a rule where everyone had to have a turn so, being squished between the massive metal suit housing Skulker and the cushion hog that is Ember, he really didn’t expect to get picked. Though, honestly, he was perfectly okay with that. All competitiveness aside, he was really comfy for the first time in a couple months and he’d rather not give that up right now. So, he decided to just stay quiet and watch the show.
He petted the blob ghost’s back—the little one tired themself out and took a nap not long ago—and finished off the pizza in his hand before reaching for the water bottle at his feet. That’s when he heard his name called.
Amorpho was belly-up in the kiddie pool, a tight blue ribbon slipping off the edge of his tail fin, and groaning out a series of (apparently) dolphin curses as slices of pepperoni rose and fell with his heavy breaths. At one point, someone had mercy on him and gave him a pair of tinted sunglasses to replace the ones he broke. The ghost nearly cried in relief, though Danny couldn’t tell if it was because he was drunk or the flashing lights were burning his eyes. Maybe both. Either way, the sunglasses themselves were a bit thinner than usual so Danny could see the ghost’s swirling eyes darting to him as he lifted his head to watch where the bottle landed.
Amorpho flopped backwards into the pool. “Ughh, I can’t think of a good one for Billy right now. Someone else come up with something.”
Murmurs started up as the other ghosts debated what would be best for Danny. Or rather, what they would want to see him do.
Danny winced at some of the suggestions and nearly decked someone over another, but then Ember piped up with a triumphant shout. Everyone quieted and turned to her, expectant.
“I’ve got the perfect dare,” she said, eyes twinkling with mischief. Danny had a feeling he might regret this.
---
“Hey, you fucking brat! Come back here with that!”
Why why why was Johnny in Amity?
Danny could’ve gotten away with it so much less painful if the ghost was just riding around in the Ghost Zone or hanging out in his lair, but noooo, Johnny and Kitty were fighting so Johnny, of course, had to go out and try picking up human girls to make her jealous and take him back. Ancients, what a moron.
He yelped as a blast sailed past his ear. It burnt someone’s tomato garden to ash and Danny winced, knowing he would probably take the blame for that. If this went on much longer, they’d probably get chased down by the GIW, what with all the destruction Johnny’s causing, and then Danny really will lose the bet since he can’t just leave Johnny to get caught.
Okay, wow, he might be spiralling a little. The damage wasn’t that bad. Sure a few lawns and driveways would never look the same. Maybe the partially destroyed roofs and countless broken and dislodged shingles would get some people really angry, when they look up and realize at least. And the sticky ectoplasm he’d been throwing at Johnny to slow him down hasn’t really hit their mark, so there are probably a lot of things forever stuck together until Danny comes back and gets rid of it, which, okay yeah, maybe he wasn’t really spiraling and just being a realist on how much the town’s gonna hate him after tonight.
And of course, all his worrying about the consequences left him open to a tackle by Shadow, causing them and the motorcycle to crash in someone’s backyard.
The good news was that Johnny’s bike was okay, meaning the ghost wouldn’t wring his neck any more than he was already planning to.
The bad news was there was a grill on fire and a line of a quickly burning rope tied to a propane tank nearby.
Danny cursed. He could make a shield out of ice, but there’s no way it would stop the impact from the blast—he was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. Plus, even if he could minimize the damage, how is he supposed to get rid of—?
An idea popped up in his head and he grinned.
Quickly, Danny threw up an ice shield around himself and the house directly behind him.
Johnny and Shadow knocked insistently on the shield. “H-Hey kid c’mon! We were just messing around! No need to get our asses blasted over it!”
Danny flashed his fangs. “No, I think you might need a little ass blasting. As a treat.”
The tank exploded and his large shield cracked much more than he was comfortable with, but it was worth it to get Johnny and Shadow away from him with a near guarantee they won’t be back anytime soon, likely too busy groaning in a ditch somewhere.
Danny whistled happily to himself, letting down the shield and resolutely ignoring the scorched backyard while floating towards the last place he saw the motorcycle.
…Which was now just a mangled piece of burning metal because he forgot to pull that behind him when he shielded himself and the house.
Perfect.
---
So, he did regret it, a little, and since the rules of truth or dare were absolute, Danny had to endure the consequences.
“Bottoms up, Dipstick!” Ember shouted, handing him a full shot glass and sitting on the edge of her seat. The other ghosts mirrored her eagerness, leaning forward with big smiles on their faces. Danny laughed awkwardly and peered into the glass.
The liquid was clear and when he sniffed it, he couldn’t smell anything. Honestly, if it weren’t for the dull glow surrounding it, he would’ve just assumed it was plain old water and Ember was just messing with him.
He shrugged. “Sure, why not? I mean it’s just one shot, what’s the worst that could happen?”
#danny phantom#phic phight#phic phight 2022#nemo the writing ho#danny fenton#dp kitty#ember mclain#johnny 13#dp shadow
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