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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 2 years

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In Shining Armor

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: A evil man has been hunting you for a long time, and your only hope now is to find the Witcher people are peaking about.

{The Witcher Masterlist}

At this point, you're betting your life on rumors. Gossip.

That's how low you have fallen.

But a thin, faint thread of hope is better than certain doom.

You don't know the tavern you rush in, but you also don't know the land you came to. Doesn't matter. People - mostly men, you quickly notice -, turn their eyes to look at you. A panting mess of a young lady, hair messy, covering half your face.

In the tavern, your eyes start looking, searching... You've heard a witcher is here. He was seen passing through these lands. But who? Who of these men could be-

In a corner, a white-haired man sits, brooding, not minding your sudden appearance. Is that him? He looks strong enough, and the hair... The medallion soon gets your attention, the sunlight coming from the window reflecting on it.

You don't think, you just move, crashing on the bench next to him. “I beg you, pretend you know me.” Ignoring the angry, confused look he gives, you whisper.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Please. He's been-” In the middle of your speech, the tavern door is kicked open. You freeze because you know who it is. He was close, after all.

“(Y/N)?!” He calls, eyes scanning the place much likely you did, seconds ago.

When those evil eyes spot you, it feels like the blood leaves your face. It gets cold, like your hands, fingers feeling like ice. He's here, you have nowhere to run. You're tired. You're hurt, hungry... If he takes you with him... You don't even want to think what he'll do.

“There you are.” He says, a wicked smile taking over his lips. “Been a while since I set eyes on this pretty face. All I see is your back, always on the run.” He walks closer, and closer, and closer... You can smell him from here. Sweat, death, rot... Or is it just your terrified brain playing tricks on you?

Looking down, you blink hard to push tears off. Can he see them? Can he see how scared you are?

“The lady is with me.” The voice next to you says, at the same moment his arm moves around your shoulders.

You almost faint as waves of relief wash over you.

“Don't think me a fool, Witcher.” He says, and you hear when he puts both hands on the table, bending forward. The dagger on his left hand is visible. “I've been chasing my bride-to-be for a month.”

“The lady is with me.” The Witcher repeats in a low, calm voice.

“The lady is mine.”

“Not anymore. Now, if you intend on walking out of here alive, you better do it in the next ten seconds.” His voice sends vibrations through his chest, and you can feel it on your right arm.

There's something in the air, you can feel it, even though your eyes are still set on the table. “If you'll fight, do it outside.” Someone says.

“It won't be a fight.” Another person says, and you see him approaching through the corner of your eyes. “This is Geralt of Rivia. The Butcher of Blaviken. He will kill you in half the time he gave you to leave.”

You don't know who that is, but you're thankful for his words.

Because at the mention of this... Event in Blaviken, Bardun moves, standing up straight. He steps back. Then another step...

Until he silently turns away and leaves.

You didn't want to, but it happens anyway. It's too much to keep inside. Bursting into tears, you lean on the man who saved you, shoulders shaking with sobs. Geralt - now you have the name -, rubs your back slowly, and as much as you're embarrassed by the sudden outburst, you can't stop for long minutes.

But when you do, you meet yellow eyes with your redish, tear-stained face. “T-thank you. I don't-I don't even have coin. I'm sorry. But I have this.” Quickly, you reach for the necklace around your neck. “It's nothing much but–”

“Keep it.” He says, grabbing your forearms and pulling them away from the necklace. “Now, we should get going. That man is still around.”

“Go where?” Your low, weak voice is swallowed by the other guy, the one who spoke for you, a lute in his hands.

Geralt gives him an annoyed look. “We means me and the girl.”

“But adventure follows you... Well, maybe also a bit of death but what matter is–” Geralt starts moving as he speaks, gathering his things and then taking your hand. “What matters is that I'm in need of new tales to sing, as you can see.”

Geralt doesn't answer, and when he pulls you, you don't resist. The gestures make you feel secure like you haven't felt in a long time. And with Geralt's much bigger hand on yours, you'd just follow him to the ends of the Earth.

“C'mon.” The lute guy keeps taking, following both of you. “Where are you going? Imagine this: The brave, mighty Witcher being the knight in shining armor to a young, fair lady and–”

“What is your name?” You ask, giving the man a glance.

“Don't encourage him.” Geralt says, stopping by his horse and looking down at you. “What's your name?”

“(Y/N).” You say with a smile.

“I'm Jaskier.” The lute guy says.

Geralt ignores him. “You know how to ride?” You nod, and he grabs your waist. “Up you go.” And he raises you to his horse, and you quickly fix yourself before Geralt climbs behind you. “This is Roach. She is a nice girl... To most people.” He adds, shooting Jaskier a glance.

“Where are we going?”

“An inn for the night. Then, we'll see.” When you start moving, Jaskier follows, playing his lute and singing something about a monster chasing a princess and a knight rescuing her. It makes you smile.

The inn is some miles down a dusty road, among other small buildings. It's four stories high, a neat place. The old woman behind the counter gives you two rooms, but after seeing your scared face, Geralt asks for a room with two beds. Jaskier also asks for a room.

He'll be tagging along, it doesn't matter if Geralt likes it or not.

In the bedroom, you light up some candles because it'll be dark soon. After, you sit down on the bed on the left, signing.

“Wanna tell me about that Bardun?” Geralt asks, stripping down to a black shirt and kicking his boots off before sitting on the other bed. Elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on you.

Taking a deep breath, you take off your shoes as well, loosening your dress a little. “I'm just a girl with dead parents, like many others where I come from. He saw me and wanted to marry me. I said no... He insisted to the point I had to run or else...” You don't want to think about it, so your voice fades. “He reached me once, hit me...” You touch your cheek. “I've been running ever since.”

“You were really scared.”

You nod. “I was. I am. Back in my hometown, before I decided to run, he said things... Things he'd do to me... If I didn't accept to marry him.” A tear rolls down at the memory. “I know you only hunt monsters... But I'm glad you helped me.”

“Some monsters are human.” Geralt says, and, without thinking, you get up and sit next to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He seems to hesitate a little, and then his embrace is loose before his grip grows tighter. He soon moves, turning his body towards you so you're hugging him better, pressed against his chest. “Thank you. I know it may seem like it's something so small but it's the whole world to me. You saved me, Geralt of Rivia.”

And then, loosening the embrace, you touch his cheek and decide to give him something else. Connecting your lips to his, you're taken by surprise when he quickly kisses you back, the movement of his lips driving you to part yours, and so you do, letting him take over, deepening the kiss.

But then, too soon, he pulls away, his forehead touching yours. “What was that about?” Geralt asks in a whisper.

“I wanted to give you something. It's not... Useful as a coin... Nothing valuable but–”

“Then give me another.” He says, and you smile before kissing him again, feeling his tongue this time, and it only ends when you're breathless. “Maybe I'll require a couple more.”

That makes you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, your cheeks and neck burning. This is nonsense, feeling so safe and comfortable with a man you just met. But you get this feeling, that he won't ever hurt you. That Geralt can be trusted. And this is something you never felt before, something too strong to understand. “I'm fine with it.”

“What are your plans now?”

“Hm... I can't go back to my hometown... So I Don't know.”

“If it's alright with you, we could go back to get your things. And then you stay with me until... Until you find a place you'd like to live.”

And then, you smile again. “R-really? You'd put on with me? All that for some kisses?”

“For all the kisses you feel like giving me.” Suddenly, Geralt picks you up, placing you on the bed. “Now let's get some sleep. It was a long day. Even longer for you.” You nod. “Tomorrow we start the journey to your house and after... We'll see.”

“We'll see...” You repeat, watching him go back to his bed. “Do you... Want to keep me warm for the night?” You suggest, hoping he can't see how hard you might be blushing.

“If that's what the lady wants.” He says as he moves back, lying down next to you and welcoming you into his arms. “Good night.”

“Good night.” You whisper back.

You quickly fall asleep, knowing that you won't be alone or scared when you wake up in the morning.

#imagine geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

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reikorun · 2 months

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KlubOutside Q&A 301-400 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q301.

2022.03.07

The Medallions and the "Sankt Altar" used by His Majesty bore a striking resemblance to each other, is it correct to assume that the Medallions are the practical application of "Sankt Altar"?

A301.

That's correct.

Q302.

2022.03.07

Towards the end of the story, brush pens became used less frequently to express bloodshed compared to the early days, does this have something to do with your art style? I would love to know if there is a reason.

A302.

It became like that because I wanted to draw more detailed blood spray and flow.

Q303.

2022.03.14

What kind of technique is Ganju's "Seppa"? Considering the fact that it can directly interfere with matter and the fact that Ganju trained with Ginjō's group in the final arc, I anticipate that this is perhaps a technique closer to Fullbring.

A303.

He is using a technique passed down within the Shiba clan to unbind the union of Reishi particles thereby dividing the matter into pieces.

Q304.

2022.03.14

The boss-like characters that Ichigo has fought so far, that is, Byakuya, Aizen and Ginjō, all have colors contained within their names, but is there some color related connotation in Yhwach's name?

A304.

In the very early stages of development, Yhwach was given the pseudonym "Yhwach Beltz". Beltz means "black" in Basque.

Q305.

2022.03.14

Is Renji's false Bankai "Hihiō Zabimaru" (*Baboon King), inspired by Minamoto no Yorimasa's slaying of the Nue? Renji subdued Zabimaru who is in the form of a Nue and attains the Bankai "Hihiō Zabimaru"; Minamoto No Yorimasa slays the Nue and is granted the famous sword Shishiō (*Lion King). I'm very interested in the pair because they both have these points in common: defeating the Nue and gaining the power (or weapon) called "~King". I would be happy if you could answer!

A305.

It's the first time I'm hearing of this legend. However the similarities are such that I'm not even surprised you would think it's the source. A sword with such a manga-like name exists….

Q306.

2022.03.21

Orihime has a food scene in every arc. Examples:

Agent of the Shinigami arc - Red bean paste on a loaf of bread.

Soul Society arc - Meal at Kūkaku's residence.

Arrancar arc - Ice cream eaten with Rangiku and the meal that was almost shoved down her throat by Ulquiorra.

The Lost Agent of the Shinigami arc - Doughnuts.

Thousand-Year Blood War arc - Scrapped bread, some sweet potato-like food.

And more.

Were these eating scenes included to add to her character, or rather, perhaps I should ask if they naturally increased in number because Orihime came to life on her own as the story progressed? I love the scene where she cries while eating doughnuts in the Lost Agent arc.

A306.

I'm realizing that for the first time now that you've mentioned it. Come to think of it, Orihime eats well, huh…. Whenever I draw a food related scene, it is also the moment where I think to myself “I want a soft atmosphere in the dialogue and the scenery”, so I believe that's where Orihime fits in. Besides, it's kind of like, I don't really want to draw a scene where a man eats food, you know?

Q307.

2022.03.21

Between Isshin and Masaki, who came up with the name "Ichigo"? My personal hypothesis is that he was born because Isshin protected "one thing = Masaki's life", and since Isshin would probably dislike the idea of his son bearing half of his own name, I reckon Masaki came up with it. However, if there is a definitive answer, I would love to know!

A307.

Masaki is the one who named him. For a long time, I was in two minds over whether or not I should draw Ichigo's naming scene, but I abandoned the idea because it would likely just be Isshin and Masaki getting all lovey-dovey and that's gross.

Q308.

2022.03.21

In my opinion, Ichigo is the most handsome Jump character of all time! From sensei's point of view, are there any protagonists that you think lead a cool lifestyle, or anyone you consider good-looking among the history of Jump protagonists?

A308.

I'm rarely enthused by the protagonist, so I don't have any protagonist in mind. I like Cygnus Hyoga. Somehow, I feel like I've mentioned this before….

Q309.

2022.03.28

If Grimmjow undergoes training, could he attain Resurrección: Segunda Etapa someday?

A309.

He can.

Q310.

2022.03.28

In chapter 2, Ichigo fights a Hollow in Yumisawa Children's Park, is there any connection between the name "Yumisawa" and the Quincy? From long ago, the Ishida family have resided in Karakura Town which is the Jūreichi. I wondered if there is a possibility that words relating to the Quincy are attached to place names? (*Yumisawa - 弓沢 includes the kanji for "bow" - 弓.)

A310.

Huh!? There is indeed a connection. That's uncanny! I'm surprised you noticed because I simply added that connection in the name while playing around with the background details and had no intention of mentioning it at all.

Q311.

2022.03.28

When it comes to something I don't like, but I have to get it done, I have a hard time getting started. What does sensei do at times like this?

A311.

I procrastinate until the very last minute, and when it finally becomes impossible to put off any longer, I'll start with just a little bit of the initial part and then leave it aside for later. Of course, I'm talking about my rough drafts.

Q312.

2022.04.04

I thought the lines that Kajōmaru-san delivered were contrasting Captain Kyōraku's speech, but since Kajōmaru-san disappeared earlier than I expected, I've been contemplating the true meaning of his words this whole time. Did something happen in Kajōmaru-san's past?

A312.

Naturally, his lines are meant to correspond with Shunsui's lines, but it's the prelude made for the purpose of setting up Shunsui's speech which is the main message, so I had Kajōmaru say it as he was going to exit the stage early.

Q313.

2022.04.04

I've always thought to myself that if a BLEACH musō style game ever came out, it would probably be so much fun. Doesn't "Shinigami Musō" sound good??? Thank you for your time!!!

A313.

I love Hokuto Musō too, so I think it probably would be fun if there was one. Just imagine Aizen running out from the back of the screen in a 2-player setting whilst blowing away all the trash mobs!

Q314.

2022.04.04

Why did the Shin'ō Academy have its name changed from "Tōgakuin"? (Has their curriculum or philosophy changed?) ×[1]

A314.

Originally it was a school exclusively for Shinigami, however as organizations like the Kidō Corps and the Inner Court Troop were established and classified, the name changed.

Q315.

2022.04.11

It's something that I just thought of right now, but is it possible that the Zanpakutō belonging to the early 13th Division were modeled after Pisces and its ruling planet Neptune? Captain Ukitake's Sōgyo no Kotowari may allude to the constellation of Pisces. It is a constellation in which the tails of two fish are tied together with a string (or ribbon), and Sōgyo no Kotowari also has the hilt of two swords linked together with a cord.

On the other hand, Kaien's Nejibana is a three-pronged spear. It is a symbol of Neptune (Poseidon in Greek), the god of the sea who rules over the planet Neptune.

I have a fair amount of confidence in this theory as there is too much overlap, but what do you think? Also, please let us know if there are any source materials or inspirations which formed the image of Captains and Vice-Captains (any others are fine too).

A315.

"Twin fish" is used to represent letters in Chinese literature, from there I kind of imagined it as "exchanging of letters" → "circulation of energy". About Kaien's sword, I suppose that comes from the mental image of combining the whirlpool of the Shiba clan and water from the twin fish. ×[2]

Q316.

2022.04.11

Sensei, can I use the photos you uploaded of your doggie for my phone's wallpaper?

A316.

You can.

Q317.

2022.04.11

I really sympathize with Quilge Opie's line "speech is silver, silence is golden", but I wonder if a line like this is based on sensei's actual experience?

A317.

This is originally a proverb from the English language.

Q318.

2022.04.18

I watched Ōishi-sensei's birthday stream! I'm very happy because I was able to see characters from other works being drawn by Kubo-sensei and the process by which illustrations come to a state of completion in real time! Do you have any plans to stream it to your fan club or release a time-lapse? If you are so inclined, please do so!!

A318.

That is Ōishi-kun's YouTube project, so please make a request to Ōishi-kun! ×[3]

Q319.

2022.04.18

What does Honshō Chizuru-chan think about Orihime and Ichigo's marriage?

A319.

Since Chizuru is a free-spirited person, she would think "she got married, so what?"

Q320.

2022.04.18

Kubo-sensei also appeared in Ōishi-san's YouTube archive, I watched the hell out of it (an expression I rarely use these days….) The damask-patterned curtains behind Kubo-sensei were so chic that I took my hat off. What brand is it? I looked very closely at it, but I wonder if it's a front lace style where a damask-patterned lace curtain is hung in front of a thick curtain. I was interested because the curtains were beautiful.

A320.

I forgot the manufacturer but it does indeed have front lace. You're very observant…. ×[3]

Q321.

2022.04.25

When Byakuya fought PePe, he was never manipulated by Love Kiss even though he was struck by it. Is that because the mantle Byakuya was wearing is made of the Ōken.

A321.

That's right. That reminds me, there was no space to draw the reason there….

Q322.

2022.04.25

When the Soul King is first seen, he clearly appears to have limbs, when did you settle on the idea to have him limbless? Additionally, when Pernida Parnkgjas promptly dispatched the Second-Class Divine Soldier he was drawn with a normal left hand, so I don't think Pernida was set up to be the Left Arm of the Soul King at that time.

A322.

With respect to the set up I had in mind, it had been arranged so that normally, Pernida can maintain an imperfect humanoid form, but when they lose themself, they lose the ability to maintain their shape, thus revealing their true form (a left hand), but since it's difficult to understand, I'm thinking it's a concept I can probably do away with. Either way, I wanted to draw Pernida's hood tearing apart when they turn into a left hand.

Q323.

2022.04.25

I wish a Blu-ray box edition of the BLEACH anime would be offered for sale…they were available in the past…I'd like to have something similar to the DVD box which went up to the Soul Society arc….

A323.

I'll let my editor know. Murakoshi-saaan!

Q324.

2022.05.02

I apologize for bringing up the anime, but in the Zanpakutō: The Alternate Tale arc, among the Zanpakutō of the Captains and Vice-Captains whose names had already been established at the time, it was only Itegumo's incarnated form which did not make an appearance. Was this Kubo-sensei's intention? Or is it that the anime staff simply didn't come to you with an offer for Itegumo…?

A324.

Since I have no recollection of ever having met to discuss Itegumo, I think it's likely there were no plans for Itegumo.

Q325.

2022.05.02

What kind of person is Ikumi-san's husband? How old is he in your designs?

A325.

Ikumi-san is single in the main story, and she remarries in that space leading up to the Echoing Jaws of Hell arc.

Q326.

2022.05.02

Kubo-sensei, do you often reread the BLEACH tankōbon?

A326.

I usually don't read them at all, so I've almost forgotten everything. It's thanks to posting replies in this Q&A corner that with every round of questions I end up rereading the previous and subsequent tankōbon thoroughly.

Q327.

2022.05.09

Was it intentional that Aizen's origins and past are still largely undisclosed? I'd like to know because I often find myself thinking that there aren't many villains who possess that much charisma whose background remains unknown.

A327.

Most depictions of a villain's past are composed in order to draw out sympathy and a sense of relatability from the audience, and since I don't like that approach very much, I try to avoid it. All characters have a different set of values and I believe a villain is a character whose differences in that regard are so large that they cannot be accepted.

Q328.

2022.05.09

I was always watching out for this with bated breath, but I wonder if the reason Rangiku's breasts don't spill out from her Shihakushō is because she's holding them in place with Reiatsu? Did she actually have a nip slip once where nobody was watching? I'm curious if the reason why her chest is so widely exposed is because they cause her pain or perhaps it's a 'freebie' for others. I love how sexy her chest is.

A328.

I was drawing her with the assumption that she would affix double sided tape to her chest, but I like the idea of her holding them in place with Reiatsu better. Maybe I should use it.

Q329.

2022.05.09

I was surprised to learn that Kubo-sensei's hometown is the very town where I currently live and work (I felt a strong sense of familiarity at the mention of Soleil). So here's my question: roughly where in Karakura Town is the Visored's base located?

A329:

The Visored's hideout is around Spark (the name of a supermarket). I wonder if Spark is still there…?

Q330.

2022.05.16

The 7th volume with Byakuya on the cover begins with the line “We should not shed tears”, but at the time Kubo-sensei wrote this poem, did you already have an image in your head of chapter 502, "Falling Sakura" (where Byakuya is defeated by the enemy and sheds tears)?

A330.

I had no way of knowing where Jump would tell me to end the series, so it's not the exact version I had in mind back then, but I wrote it based on the idea that the tears would eventually be shed.

Q331.

2022.05.16

I would like to know how Yoruichi transforms into a cat. Is it a technique she herself had developed, is she able to shapeshift using a spiritual tool belonging to the Shihōin clan, or perhaps a device or technique developed by Urahara Kisuke? These are the only methods I can think of.

A331.

This is a technique developed by Yoruichi, for the purpose of sneaking out of the mansion whenever she pleases.

Q332.

2022.05.16

Have you ever tried Ayataka Café Matcha Latte? It's extremely popular and delicious.

A332.

Matcha based sweets aren't really my thing.

Q333.

2022.05.23

Where on Earth did Renji get that snazzy shirt with the Zabimaru-like design which he was wearing in the Human World in the final chapter? Was it custom made for Renji?

A333.

It's custom made. That t-shirt is nice isn't it?

Q334.

2022.05.23

On the Squad 10 introduction page in BLEACH 13 BLADEs, it says "Rangiku narrowly avoided having her Bankai stolen", has Rangiku acquired Bankai?

A334.

That's what is actually written there!? It's a mistake. How in the world did a mistake like this get in there…?

Q335.

2022.05.23

I have a question about the Shikai of Komamura's Zanpakutō "Tenken". When looking at the games and the anime, it seems there are two patterns in Tenken's Shikai ability: one where it partially summons Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō and does battle with its arm and sword, and another pattern where it accompanies Komamura's attacks with a mass of sword energy (?) that looks like an enlarged version of his own arm and sword. Which one is considered correct by Kubo-sensei?

A335.

"Summoning the arm of Myō'ō" is correct.

Q336.

2022.05.30

Regarding the resident certificate which is given as a bonus for joining this FC, I was surprised to see that Hueco Mundo was an option. Even in Hueco Mundo there are resident certificates…are there any public offices and such that manage it? If so, did Aizen establish and maintain it? These are the questions I thought about but I'd like to know sensei's opinion!

A336.

You might be able to tell by looking at the signatures, but Harribel is in charge of it and Hueco Mundo has started to become organized after Harribel began ruling.

Q337.

2022.05.30

You mentioned Momoclo in a previous Bambies related question, do you have any favorite idols and such? Did you happen to like Hinatazaka46 through Love it!? Is there someone you're rooting for?

A337.

When I see idols who were season regulars on Love it! appearing in other shows, I naturally start rooting for them. (*Love it! is a variety show in Japan.)

Q338.

2022.05.30

During the new captain's appointment ceremony in volume 74, Nanao-chan, who served as the host, is seen carrying a cane, was this an aftereffect of her fight with Lille? In the same volume, just a few pages before (the scene where she goes outside to call for Captain Kyōraku), it looks like she didn't have a cane, so I was wondering what the true situation is.

A338.

That's right. Either I forgot to draw it in the scene where she calls out to Shunsui or the detail ended up getting lost in the solid paint fill.

Q339.

2022.06.06

Is the reason why Ichigo's Bankai could not be stolen with a medallion because Ichigo's Bankai was mixed with Hollow power?

A339.

Correct.

Q340.

2022.06.06

You served as a judge for the Jump Gag Manga Awards, and I got the impression that there is a high percentage of gag manga among the works you find interesting, but do you have any plans or desire to draw your own gag manga?

A340.

When it comes to me, I just don't have the talent to draw gag manga, so I won't draw it. Gag manga are challenging works and only a select few can draw them.

Q341.

2022.06.06

About the color illustration from chapter 558 (depicting Ichigo and Renji inside a white coffin with a cross on it), it appears to bear a close resemblance to Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" music video, is there any connection?

A341.

I drew the white coffin design quite a long time ago and when I saw the Bad Romance music video, I recall being rather indecisive about what I should draw because Bad Romance was released first. Ultimately, I ended up drawing it after some time had passed. That being said, the music video for Bad Romance was incredibly cool.

Q342.

2022.06.13

When the anime commences, will there be a BLEACH game released following Soul Ignition? Not so much an app or something but for game consoles….

A342.

I feel like I heard some rumor like that from my editor….

Q343.

2022.06.13

If the Quincy trace bloodlines, I think Uryū would notice that an Echt Quincy called "Kurosaki" existed until recently, but were there any documents, family trees, etc. compiled by Sōken? If so, did Uryū sense something extraordinary after being admitted to Karakura High school, in particular towards the fact that it was a human with the surname "Kurosaki" who possessed the high Reiatsu?

A343.

Books concerning the Quincy are kept in a locked archive inside the hospital. Uryū is forbidden from going there, nor does Uryū himself want to enter that place so much that he would go to the trouble of fighting with Ryūken. Additionally, the more important books are kept in Ryūken's private room.

Q344.

2022.06.13

I've been wondering about this for a while, but in the color version, Liltotto's clothes in her earlier appearances had long sleeves, is this something that was simply overlooked during your checks? Don't the Sternritter only conform to one style of clothing?

A344.

Really!? I had no idea because I wasn't asked to check that. Her outfit was always sleeveless.

Q345.

2022.06.20

I read on the internet that the heroine of BLEACH, Inoue Orihime, is modeled after Inoue Mayuko from Ushio & Tora. Is that true? Is it also the case that Tatsuki was modeled after Asako?

A345.

I'm not exactly familiar with Ushio and Tora…. Please check for yourself whether it's mentioned in any official statement anyway.

Q346.

2022.06.20

Is it possible for fellow Hollows to make children?

A346.

It's possible.

Q347.

2022.06.20

I was thinking that the "B" and "H" from Jugo and Bazz-B's Schrift are the letters which form each other's names, was this giving us a hint that these two were best friends?

A347.

Of course.

Q348.

2022.06.27

I want Hollow and Dragon figurines!!! Are there any plans to turn them into figurines? Where can I request one to be made for me? I want to line up all the Märchens!!!!!!!

A348.

Is this question based on the premise that I draw all the Märchens!?

Q349.

2022.06.27

Will the effect of Wabisuke's ability be lifted if the Shikai is disengaged?

A349.

It will be lifted.

Q350.

2022.06.27

When Shinigami engage their Shikai, sometimes It will be unleashed by calling the sword's name despite not uttering the release command, is there any difference between this and a situation where they do recite the release command in full? Just like how only those who have acquired Bankai are able to release their Shikai without calling the name itself, perhaps it's not the case that just anyone can do this?

A350.

Only experts can release Shikai without the release command, and even if they can, it will take time for its efficiency to reach 100% after the release.

Q351.

2022.07.04

If members of the Visored have theme songs, please tell us about them!!

A351.

Oh yeah, I guess I've never made a note of that. I'll write about them somewhere!

Q352.

2022.07.04

Please tell us what your favorite BLEACH movie is!

A352.

I like the Ulquiorra fight at the beginning of Hell Verse.

Q353.

2022.07.04

Is the healing ointment that comes out of Ikkaku's sword an original ability of the Zanpakutō rather than something that was added through modification? When I did some investigating, I learned that the Hōzuki plant was used as a medicinal herb in the past, so I thought, maybe?

A353.

It's Hōzukimaru's ability.

Q354.

2022.07.11

I have received my certificate of residence, thank you very much. Did you also inspect the packaging envelope? I have never seen such a stylish parcel before, I was totally blown away…. I'm truly happy that I was immersed in this universe even before opening my package.

A354.

I did inspect it. Isn't the design great? The certificate of residence is also the outstanding handiwork of Ishino-san who has been involved with BLEACH for a long time.

Q355.

2022.07.11

Will the birthdays of the Sternritter members be made public in the future?

A355.

Perhaps it will be revealed in the anime, I can't say for sure.

Q356.

2022.07.11

In an illustration previously exhibited at the Reverse Shibuya event, Rickenbacker was listed as a Broombuggy. His appearance is quite different compared to Marshall and Wordsworth, does this mean that all Dragons people ride are considered Broombuggies?

A356.

Broombuggy is the name of a Dragon species while simultaneously being something like a model number used for Wing Bind registration, so if an individual brings along their own Dragon and it passes the test, they can register it as a Broombuggy.

Q357.

2022.07.18

When designing a female character, how is the bust size determined?

A357.

It's not so much choosing a bust size, but rather it's more like deciding on the overall fleshiness of the character and then making it a size that suits.

Q358.

2022.07.18

The new BLEACH work looks so interesting, I could barely contain my excitement!!! I couldn't help but wonder if there's something hidden in the title, like in BURN THE WITCH, is the missing horizontal bar on the "A" in "BREATHES" simply a design choice? Or does it have some kind of meaning? Please give us a hint!

A358.

I was just playing around with a design for the rough draft and I didn't even really communicate this detail to my editor, but the design more or less gives the impression that the "bolts of Hell have come loose.”

Q359.

2022.07.18

In the one-shot, there are records adorning a whole surface of the wall in the 5th Division barracks, are those all Hirako's personal belongings?

A359.

That's right.

Q360.

2022.07.25

I read the new BLEACH one-shot. The individuality of each person very much stands out, even down to things like their Captain's haori, has the change in Captain-Commander resulted in a more lenient dress code, personal grooming and so on?

A360.

It's definitely become more lenient. I mean, the Captain-Commander is Shunsui so….

Q361.

2022.07.25

With regard to Captain Unohana's name, was it intentional that by giving her the name "Retsu (烈)", the kanji for "death (死)" can be constructed when parts of her name are combined? Also, if the aforementioned is true, is there a possibility that the details surrounding characters’ naming will be revealed in a future one-shot sequel?

A361.

If "Hana (花)" and "Retsu (列)" are cut in two and then connected together, the result is "death (死)". It was intentional, or perhaps I should say, I did it out of fun but it turned out right. If someone correctly guesses the wordplay in the naming like this, then I may acknowledge it, but I don't think I should be the one to reveal it.

Q362.

2022.07.25

Is the BLEACH one-shot drawn entirely with traditional art mediums? There were some parts here and there that looked like it could be digital, did you use both?

A362.

Illustrations of characters, illustrations of animals, visual effects and lettering for sound effects were all made using traditional art mediums, Anything outside of that is digital.

Q363.

2022.08.01

New Vice-Captain, Rindō, has made an appearance, but where did Vice-Captain Iemura go?

A363.

Given that Atau's abilities were superior, Iemura voluntarily made an application for himself and was demoted to 3rd seat. Even though Iemura was the one to raise the matter of his own accord, he was so depressed that Hanatarō, unable to look on in silence, summoned him back to the 4th Division where he was reinstated. In the end, it seems that the 4th Division, which has a lot of paperwork, is more suited for Iemura.

Q364.

2022.08.01

I read the one-shot! I was like "this is iiiit!" for the first time in a long while and it gave me goosebumps…. Is this strictly a one-shot, will there not be a continuation…? I would definitely like to read the rest!

A364.

I'm not good at drawing when I'm being told to “draw, draw, draw” repeatedly, so I'll consider it once I'm no longer being told to do so.

Q365.

2022.08.01

Was the color spread in the 20th anniversary chapter, drawn digitally?

A365.

The coloring is digital.

Q366.

2022.08.08

How does Ichika perceive Yumichika's gender? We live in a time where gender is a difficult issue, but I'd like to see a scene unfold where he's like "I'm a man" and Ichika goes "what!?"

A366.

She already knew he's a man from the start.

Q367.

2022.08.08

In chapter 188, when Isshin-san regained his Shinigami powers for the first time in 20 years, he referred to the Visored in his conversation with Urahara-san. During this scene, Urahara-san who had helped to contain their Hollowfication, acted as though he possessed no detailed information concerning their backgrounds or ideology. Was this information simply not revealed to Isshin-san and nothing more? Or is it that he truly had no idea what the Visored were planning at that time because he hadn't been involved with them since The Past arc, among other things?

A367.

This is because he concluded that there would be more of a benefit towards the management of Ichigo's Hollowfication if he did not divulge that information to Isshin.

Q368.

2022.08.08

I like the sound of Aaroniero Arruruerie's name. What is the origin of this name?

A368.

It's based on the designer Eero Aarnio.

Q369.

2022.08.15

I have a question concerning the phrase "Fill the earth and know your own powerlessness" in Kurohitsugi's chant. In the book of Genesis, after creating man (in the sense that man is the greatest thing ever created), the word of God states “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it." Are the words in the Kurohitsugi incantation modeled after this?

A369.

It's not the case that I used Genesis as a model, though Kurohitsugi's chant itself becomes a chant that speaks about all humanity.

Q370.

2022.08.15

In the new one-shot, Ichigo goes to Keigo's ramen shop and says "everyone came out to eat", but who exactly does he mean by "everyone"? Who else was there besides Mizuiro? Was Chad also with them

A370.

The one in the seat at the back is Uryū.

Q371.

2022.08.15

I love Dordoni, so I'd like if you could draw him a lot more.

A371.

Now that you mention it, I forgot to draw new pieces for Dordoni and his group for the art exhibition….

Q372.

2022.08.22

In the new one-shot, Ichika calls Renji "Tō-sama (*father)", but what does she call Byakuya?

A372.

"Oji-sama (*uncle)"

Q373.

2022.08.22

Sensei, have you ever seen derivative creations (fanfiction, dōjinshi, etc.) of your own work? Also, what do you think about such creations?

A373.

As long as the fans can find enjoyment in it with one another, they can go right ahead. Please send me male-oriented erotica. Because I read it.

Q374.

2022.08.22

I love the background music from the anime and movies and I listen to them often, was sensei also involved in the music selection?

A374.

It doesn't involve me. This is not because I'm not interested, but because I'm fond of Sagisu-san's work.

Q375.

2022.08.29

Aside from nobles, do seated officers live on the road to the seated officers' quarters? Do they live in detached housing?

A375.

Most of them do.

Q376.

2022.08.29

I was incredibly impressed after watching the video of you drawing on KlubOutside! Are you using a tracing lightbox from Bears.Seven? And is it being stabilized by the horizontal pipe behind it? Also, if you don't mind, I would be grateful if you could tell us what's going on with the space on both sides of the tracing lightbox!

A376.

I ended up buying a new ultra-thin tracing lightbox over and over again until I found one that I liked, I forgot the manufacturer's name. I'd be in trouble if it broke…. The space on both sides is chaotically littered with things.

Q377.

2022.08.29

Regarding Kyōraku-san's Bankai, Katen Kyōkotsu: Karamatsu Shinjū, if the opponent doesn't put up a resistance (that is, try to rise to the surface) at the Third Act: Dangyo no Fuchi, does it not transition to the Final Act? The story goes that "having resigned themselves to their fate, they hurl themselves", so I thought that if the opponent accepted it, then it would become a lovers' suicide just as the name suggests.

A377.

Not limited to the Third Act, If an opponent dies midway through, it is assumed that the "performer has disappeared", and thus the Act ends there.

Q378.

2022.09.05

When I look at sensei's work, the lines appear to be much bolder in the early stages, are your lines something you paid more attention to as a consequence or did you have a change of mind regarding this area? Or perhaps you merely changed your pen?

A378.

The lines became thinner for two reasons: for one, with that early method of drawing, the lines would come out too thick when printed in the magazine, secondly I gained more experience with a pen and it reached a point where I was able to draw faster.

Q379.

2022.09.05

Do you like robots? You are great at creating characters, creatures and fantasy. Someday, I would like to see a robot designed by sensei.

A379.

I'm not interested in robots right now so I don't think I'd be able to compose a good design.

Q380.

2022.09.05

After I saw Ichika, there's something I've been wondering about: what is the growth rate of a Shinigami like in terms of physical age? Does the growth rate eventually come to slow down as the physical body develops in age?

A380.

I'll probably write about this in a Fanbook.

Q381.

2022.09.12

Japanese translations of the chapter subtitles were printed in the Fanbooks, but are there any plans to publish the rest somewhere?

A381.

It was difficult to check them so I don't really want to do it….

Q382.

2022.09.12

How tall is Tōshirō at present, in cm? Has there been any change from 133 cm…?

A382.

He's 134 cm now.

Q383.

2022.09.12

When you were composing your designs for New Sakura Wars, did you decide on the framework of each character? I'm especially curious about Anastasia.

A383.

For Sakura Wars, the request came in with everything already decided down to the names, settings, personality, body type, hairstyles, colors and role, so my job was to draw the actual design of the character using my own art style, that's all there was to it. It's almost like "putting makeup on someone else's child “

Q384.

2022.09.19

Kazui's room made an appearance in the one-shot, what made an impression on me is the fact that it wasn't a children's study desk or the like which adorned the place, but instead it was very simple furniture. Is there some reason for that?

A384.

It's to Ichigo's taste.

Q385.

2022.09.19

I would like to know what foods Kisuke-san likes and what food he dislikes…. If there are any changes between the time he was a Captain and the time he became "Hat-and-Clogs", I'd definitely like to hear about both of those eras….

A385.

His favorite food is rice and the food he dislikes are too many to list. While we're on the subject, Yoruichi has no likes or dislikes at all when it comes to food.

Q386.

2022.09.19

Who came up with the title "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU"?

A386.

I did.

Q387.

2022.09.26

Is it possible that Engetsu was not originally Isshin's Zanpakutō, but instead a Zanpakutō that once belonged to another Shinigami, like for instance, someone among the Five Great Noble Clans? I was wondering if the reason why no Shinigami connected the dots between Isshin and the Getsuga Tenshō used by Ichigo, was because they recognized Engetsu as a fire type Zanpakutō and were unaware of its ability i.e. "Getsuga Tenshō which gathers Reiatsu into a slashing attack"?

A387.

There are three reasons why the other Shinigami were not reminded of Isshin through witnessing Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshō:

Unlike the one used by Ichigo, Isshin's Getsuga Tenshō is a technique that gathers fire and Reiatsu into a slashing attack which is used at close range.

There are no opportunities for fellow Captains to learn each other's technique names outside of fighting together and training together.

In the Soul Society arc, Ichigo doesn't mention the name Getsuga Tenshō in front of anyone but Byakuya.

Q388.

2022.09.26

A long time ago on a certain program, Morita-san, who plays the role of Ichigo, mentioned how Kubo-sensei had pointed out to him the correct intonation of Getsuga Tenshō back in the early days. Did Kubo-sensei check the intonation of characters' spoken lines and techniques in the Thousand-Year Blood War arc, which were implemented in Brave Souls but have yet to make an appearance in the anime?

A388.

I may not be able to check as far as the finer details for Brave Souls. For the new anime on the other hand, I spent several hours discussing and checking as many new names and vocabulary as possible. As long as I haven't missed anything in my checks, it should turn out great.

Q389.

2022.09.26

I would like to learn the particulars of how Shutara Senjumaru got promoted to the Zero Division. What did she (is it a she?) create? At first I thought it might be the Shihakushō, but I can't imagine that a Shihakushō is important enough to warrant a promotion to Zero Division, so I'm thinking it's probably something else.

A389.

It's the Shihakushō.

Q390.

2022.10.03

I would like to know how Abarai Ichika-chan rates her father's eyebrows!

A390.

She thinks they're the coolest shape in the whole world.

Q391.

2022.10.03

Does Kubo-sensei have a Kanken certificate? (*Japan Kanji Aptitude Test)

A391.

I don't have one.

Q392.

2022.10.03

What is the motive behind Kyōraku Shunsui choosing Yadōmaru Lisa as his Vice-Captain? I'm also intrigued by their relationship. When Kyōraku and Lisa reunite again during the Decisive Battle of Karakura in the anime, Lisa strikes him violently as if in greeting, Kyōraku then says something like "you're looking as cute as ever" and Lisa blushes in response. I'm curious because I think this would never have happened if Lisa wasn't conscious of Kyōraku in some way or the other.

A392.

This is one of those scenes where the checks didn't come to me.

Q393.

2022.10.10

I really love the well-built and good-looking mature men that Kubo-sensei draws, but I was curious about specific areas of the face or body where you exert the most effort when drawing these characters. If I have to pick one character, I would be very happy if you could tell me something about Zaraki Kenpachi.

A393.

All the characters are different in terms of what aspect I pay extra attention to, in Kenpachi's case, I imagine him with "dry-looking, tense muscles on a thin figure with prominent bones.”

Q394.

2022.10.10

Not long after assuming her position as Captain of the 8th Division, Yadōmaru Lisa is seen wearing a Captain's haori which had long sleeves (in the illustration from the novel "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU" Lisa can be seen wearing what looks to be a haori with sleeves.) However, in the one-shot, it became a sleeveless Captain's haori. Did she have it altered to sleeveless or does she switch between two garments depending on her mood that day?

A394.

Immediately following that, Lisa used the haori Shunsui used to wear after cutting down the length of the sleeves.

Q395.

2022.10.10

The Seireiheki ordinarily protects the Soul King Palace, but do the gatekeepers of the Seireimon also normally protect the Soul King Palace?

A395.

I'll write about this here because it's probably not a piece of lore I'll ever draw, but the areas bordering the edges of the street around where the gates fall have come to be named "Marumaru-mon", they stand guard over the vicinity of those areas. ×[4]

Q396.

2022.10.17

Sensei, how many layers do you divide your work into when drawing an illustration digitally? If possible, I would also like to see a making-of video of your drawing process!

A396.

The number of layers depends on the illustration. All of the original color drawings from the BLEACH exhibition are still available as time-lapses, so I hope they can be viewed somewhere.

Q397.

2022.10.17

Kazeshini's chains appear to be expandable, but how does it shrink back after it has been expanded?

A397.

Shūhei does his best to shrink them back.

Q398.

2022.10.17

Given that Shawlong is the No.11 Arrancar, does that mean he was the first Menos among Aizen's forces to be turned into an Arrancar? In that case, why did Aizen choose him as the first test subject?

A398.

That's because Shawlong himself advised Aizen to try it on him first.

Q399.

2022.10.24

If Moguro Fukuzō from the "The Laughing Salesman" were in the world of BLEACH, who do you reckon would be the character that would likely be targeted by Moguro Fukuzō to have their souls filled?

A399.

Let me see, I wonder who… Shūhei…?

Q400.

2022.10.24

According to Ulquiorra's monologue, it seems that the fully Hollowfied Ichigo had used Sonído which is Hohō for Arrancar. In The Past arc from volume 36, it appears as though Kensei, who had progressed in Hollowfication, also utilized Sonído in the same way when he instantly moved behind Rabu. Could this be an indication that as a Shinigami's Hollowfication spreads from a state of being the mask alone to one where it affects the whole body, their existence grows closer to an Arrancar?

A400.

Correct.

Translation Footnotes:

×1. The "Shinigami Tōgakuin" is a name which appears in Souls character book, page 99. This is the name that is still most commonly used in Rukongai to refer to the Academy.

×2. Kubo is referring to Han-dynasty poems and legends, most notably: Ballad of Watering Horses in a Ditch by the Great Wall. Fish is used as a metaphor for letters sent by families far away as people would place their message in a wooden receptacle shaped like a fish. This receptacle would open down the middle thus becoming "two carp":

From a far land a traveler came and left me two carp. I asked my children to cook the fish and inside they found a silk letter. I knelt long and read the letter. What did that letter say? It started, Try to eat. and ended, I miss you always.

×3. Kōji Ōishi's Birthday stream featuring Tite Kubo:

https://www.youtube.com/live/nTwRin6T3VA?si=TmtttpxOOAdWnRLa

×4. Please note: "Mon" means gate but "Marumaru" is not really a name, marumaru is a symbol (○○) which we use as placeholders when, for instance, there is no name. So it's essentially like saying "such and such gate” until the named gate actually falls and replaces that placeholder.

57 notes · View notes

makeitmingi · 4 months

Text

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 5]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

You all returned for dinner service. Like this morning, Yunho and his friends were not there yet, still resting from their mid day break. You made yourself a large container of iced coffee, tying your apron around your waist.

"Do eateries really benefit from a mid day break though?" Wooyoung asked as he washed his hands.

"Well, in this case, they sold out all that we made so I guess Yunho wasn't confident in continuing to stay open." You shrugged.

"They could still serve drinks." Seonghwa reasoned.

"But staying open with drinks only and no food might hurt the revenue. How much you make from drinks compared to food and drinks is so much lesser. It would be smarter for them to rest."

"That's true. Since they are the wait staff for the dinner service and they'll be cleaning up after." Jongho said.

"Don't they have someone to clean?" Wooyoung scoffed.

"They seem to only have someone that washes the dishes and then he leaves. Looks like the cleaning for the front of the house is all reliant on themselves." You informed. After some light conversations, you all began to get into preparing for dinner. As the prep chef, Jongho did all the slicing and vegetable prep.

"I should start prepping the seafood for the cioppino." Seonghwa went to get all the seafood. While Jongho sliced the vegetables, you made the compound gochujang butter for the chicken.

"The vegetables are done. How are we cutting the chicken for roasting? Halves or quarters?" Jongho asked.

"Let's do halves. They're quite small." You replied.

"Since we're searing the pork medallions towards service, I'll make the cherry sauce to get it ready to go." Wooyoung spoke. You hummed and crossed it off the list.

"I'll start with the chickens." You stood beside Jongho. As he butchered the chickens, you stuffed the compound butter under the skin.

"What fish were we using for the cioppino again?" Seonghwa asked.

"Monkfish." You reminded.

"That's the last chicken. I'm going to remove the silver skin of the pork tenderloin and portion it. Are you good here?" Jongho asked you. You gave him a thumbs up and he went to wipe down his station since he was handling the raw chicken.

Although Jongho was a prep chef, as he says, he usually handled whole dishes on his own. You were fine with it, the sous chef, prep chef titles didn't matter much to you.

"Oh when you're done washing up, help me preheat the oven?" You requested. He nodded and went to turn on the ovens for you.

"Ah, where is the madeira?" Wooyoung whined, walking out of the walk in fridge.

"It should be in the pantry instead of the walk in, Woo." Seonghwa informed. Wooyoung went to the dry pantry to look for the alcohol while Jongho tended to his sauce for him momentarily.

"Okay, that's the last chicken." You said, going to wash your hands and getting all the components together.

You laid the vegetables Jongho prepped at the bottom of the trays and seasoned them then you placed racks on top for the chicken to sit.

"Hwa, help me bring the trays into the oven?" You asked. Seonghwa nodded, lowering the fire on his stew before helping you carrying the remaining trays. You slid them into the preheated oven and closed the door. You set a timer and clipped it to your apron before moving onto the next dish.

"Cherry sauce for the pork is done. Shall I start on the dessert?" Wooyoung came up to you.

"Yes. Do the panna cotta now so it can set in time. But don't forget to make the parsnip puree for the pork dish." You told him.

"I won't. I'll do the panna cottas now." He went back into the walk in to get what he needed. When Jongho was done portioning out the pork and setting that aside, he did the raspberry coolis.

"Cioppino is simmering. We'll have to fire the bread during service." Seonghwa helped you with the Korean dessert.

"Oh! I forgot the makeolli ice cream needs to be churned. Let's get it done now?" You remembered.

"On it." Seonghwa took the ice cream machine out.

"I think the last time I made bukkumi was with my grandfather." You laughed as you made the red bean paste that will go inside the glutinous rice dough and pan fried.

"Actually, we haven't done much Korean desserts in a while. Our recent desserts are all Western or Japanese, we did our wagashi workshop together. We should start doing more of those." Wooyoung said. You all nodded in agreement.

"Thinking of using these for the mushrooms that will go into the pasta dish." Jongho showed the metal bowl with the mix of different mushroom types.

"Looks good. Maybe not shitake since it might overpower. And soak the dried porcinis." You looked through the bowl.

"Okay. I'll mix the dried porcinis and the dried black trumpets." Jongho went to the pantry.

"It smells so good in here!" Yunho came in with a big smile. Wooyoung and Seonghwa gave friendly smiles back. You and Jongho were so focused, you just blocked everything else out.

"Hi, (y/n). Did you get some rest?" Yunho asked, standing beside you. You looked up at him, taking a small step to the side but nodded.

Not that you had anything against Yunho but you valued your personal space, especially around people you were not very close with.

"Do you need help?" He grinned.

"Do you not need to help the others prepare for dinner?" You raised an eyebrow. Yunho shook his head, he really enjoyed being in the kitchen with you the other night. And he was never really one that stuck around the kitchen. The only time he was ever in there was when he was with his grandmother.

"Go wash get an apron and wash your hands." You nodded over to the sink. Yunho let out a small 'yes!' in cheer and went over to get an apron. Once he tied it around his waist, he washed his hands.

"What should I do?" He asked enthusiastically.

"Jongho is preparing the glutinous rice dough for me. For now, let's split these red bean balls and weigh them." You instructed.

"Like this." You demonstrated, taking a spoon of red bean paste and rolling it into a ball with your hands, weighing it to the exact weight then setting it in the tray.

"I can do that!" He nodded. But the moment he spooned the bean paste onto his hand, he dropped it.

"I didn't know it would be hot." He pouted.

"It's only slightly warm. You can wear the gloves there." You pointed with your elbow and Yunho trudged over to get them. Again, imagining Yunho's puppy ears pressed to his head in disappointment made you let out a small chuckle.

"Are you laughing at me?" Yunho's eyes were wide. You didn't think he heard you.

"No." You shook your head. To be honest, he wasn't the only one surprised, Wooyoung, Jongho and Seonghwa were a little surprised too.

Yunho resumed his spot next to you and began to do the task. Good thing he was meticulous, wanting to be as accurate as possible when weighing each ball of red bean paste.

"Dough kneaded and done. I'll let it rest." Jongho said, placing the big bowl with the dough beside you.

"Thanks." You momentarily stepped aside to see the progress with the others.

"How's it looking?" You looked into the ice cream churner.

"It should be good to go into the freezer in 45 minutes. The ratios should be correct that it still freezes despite the alcohol in it." Seonghwa nodded. With alcohol in ice creams, there can only be a certain percentage you put in or else the alcohol will prevent the ice cream from properly freezing.

"Panna cotta is going into the chiller!" Wooyoung announced with a tray in his hands. Jongho helped him with carrying the other trays with all the white ramekins.

"Jong, you can start the prep for garnishes. Woo, you can start on your parsnip puree. Hwa, can you help me make a chicken jus?"

"Sure." The three replied and split up. Once the glutinous rice dough was done, you began to portion those out too.

"Done. Shall I move onto that?" Yunho asked excitedly, putting the last ball of red bean paste onto the tray. You nodded and let him assist you in weighing the glutinous rice dough.

"Good evening." San, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong came in after preparing the restaurant for dinner.

"Evening."

"Wow, you guys look so fancy." Wooyoung chuckled. While there was no waiter or staff uniform, the boys all wore button up shirts and dress pants.

"Wow, it's looking good. Anything we can help with?" Yeosang came over to look at what you were doing alongside Yunho.

"You can help Yunho portion these out. Then I'll start wrapping them." You said. After washing their hands, they came to help where they could with their limited kitchen skills. You placed a red bean ball in the middle of a circle of dough and wrapped it.

"So you're going to fry these after?" Hongjoong asked.

"Pan fry it to get the outside a little crispy. Then we're serving it with makgeolli ice cream." You told him.

"We have 1 hour. Can we make 1 of each dish that is prepared for service for tasting?" You called out. The 3 immediately fell into the rhythm of things.

"Chicken is in the warming oven so let's dish that." You said and Jongho brought the components to you for plating.

"Bread for cioppino going on the grill."

"Pork medallions going on the pan."

"I need a sous at the pass." You said. Seonghwa stepped up and you took over to make the miso butter pasta with mushrooms. The 5 other boys huddled closer to not be in the way.

"Woah." They watched in awe at how all of you worked together, handing components to Seonghwa to plate and put together to be served. Since it wasn't Michelin restaurant, Seonghwa got the plating done quickly. There was no need to micro garnishes but it still looked pretty and well put together.

"Desserts are not ready." Wooyoung informed after checking if the panna cottas were set.

"It's fine. Can we just monitor them and make sure they're ready towards the start of actual service?" You asked and he nodded.

"Watch your back." You cautioned as you placed the hot pan with the miso butter pasta. Seonghwa took a carving fork to twirl it into pretty cylinder. He then spooned the sauce over with the mushrooms.

"Can we sprinkle some chives over?" You said, looking over at the dish. Jongho sliced the chives.

"Better." Seonghwa hummed as he grated the bottarga over then sprinkled the chives over to give it flecks of green.

"Service." Seonghwa said, lining the dishes up. All 5 boys had sparkles in their eyes, their jaws slacked, as they looked over all the dishes in front of them.

"Appetisers, we went a little simple. Bruschetta, mini ham cheese croquetas, crispy brussel sprouts with lemon gochugaru dressing."

"Mains. This is miso butter pasta with mushroom medley and bottarga, we have pork medallions with parsnip puree and cherry madeira sauce, gochujang butter roast chicken with roast vegetables and a chicken jus. Lastly, cioppino with grilled ciabatta." Seonghwa introduced.

"We'll definitely look into exploring a bigger variety of appetisers after tonight." You added. Yunho nodded and they all dug into the dishes to taste.

"The chicken is so good. How did you get all the flavour in?" Yeosang was in disbelief.

"So we made a gochujang butter and we put it under the skin to roast. Then we let all that drip onto the vegetables." You explained.

"The pork dish is my favourite. I love that sauce." San pointed to the dish with his spoon and gave a thumbs up. You gestured to Wooyoung, who was responsible for the dish.

"Hmm..." Wooyoung deliberated after taking a taste of the dish. San blinked in confusion.

"Do you not think it's good?" San asked.

"I mean, it's good. But it is missing something." Wooyoung replied. You took a taste and Wooyoung looked at you for confirmation. You nodded in agreement.

"We have fennel. I'll grill it?" Wooyoung suggested. You hummed and Wooyoung left to go to the walk in to get the fennel. Without anyone else noticing, Hongjoong was finishing the pasta on his own. When the others noticed, it was too late, making them yell at the older male for not leaving them any.

"You snooze you lose?" Hongjoong shrugged. You noticed Yunho had not said anything.

"Any comments? Changes?" You turned to him. Yunho blinked, shaking his head to break his train of thought when he noticed that you were asking him directly.

"It's all really, really good." He said, the tip of his fork still in his mouth. You waited, feeling like he still had something else to say.

"I'm not sure if the food is too fancy..." He confessed. You paused for a while to let his words sink in.

"Would you prefer more homey dishes then?" Jongho asked.

"Let's see how the dinner service plays out before we decide for sure." Yunho said. You nodded in agreement, there wasn't much for you to say since he was the owner, not you.

There was now an awkwardness that hung in the air. Yunho was nervous, he hoped he didn't let his nerves throw you off your game.

"Let's take 5." You said. Wooyoung, Jongho, Seonghwa and yourself stepped out to relax before dinner service. The remaining boys went out to where Yunho was. Mingi looked at his best friend, who was spacing out behind the counter.

"Yunho ah. What was that? You okay?" Mingi tapped Yunho on the shoulder.

"Did I sound too arrogant? Too demanding? They put in all that effort and I just... should I not have said that? I just want the customers to like the place." Yunho panicked.

"It's fine, Yunho. I'm sure they didn't take it to heart. You have to be honest as the restaurant owner." San assured.

"Yes, compared to what I see on television, you were very nice in your reaction." Yeosang said.

"You're too nice, Yunho ah." Hongjoong chuckled, patting his tall friend on the shoulder. Yunho pouted, he didn't like telling people bad news or anything remotely negative.

"And like you said, you didn't say the food was bad. It just might not suit what customers are looking for." Mingi comforted.

"Let's focus on dinner service now." San massaged Yunho's shoulders to relieve the tension.

"This is the list of reservations. If there are still tables available, the online system will add the reservation as it comes in." Yeosang gave the iPad to Hongjoong to refer to the guest list, showing him the online booking sytem. Hongjoong hummed, nodding as he scrolled through and got familiar with it.

"For us, let's split the dining area this way. Into 3. So we don't get any mix ups or repeats, it is easier to keep track of which tables you are responsible for." San said to Yeosang and Mingi.

"Good idea." Mingi nodded.

Meanwhile, your team was back in the kitchen cooking, unaware of Yunho's 'almost' meltdown that was happening outside.

"Too fancy..." You drummed your fingers against the work top. Maybe you needed to go home and research more on what kind of fare and flavours you should be utilising.

"Don't think too hard." Seonghwa chuckled, coming over to kiss the top of your head.

"Don't mock me, Park." You rolled your eyes, shoving him away.

"Let's finish this service then go out. Drinks on Jongho!" Wooyoung said, slinging his arms over yours and Seonghwa's shoulders. Jongho slapped the back of Wooyoung's neck.

"Don't go volunteering my wallet." Jongho glared.

"Yah! I'm your hyung! Show some respect." Wooyoung whined, stomping his feet while Jongho made a face at him, sticking his tongue out. You let out a soft sigh and shook your head, going back to your station, letting Seonghwa mediate their bickering.

Yunho's feedback didn't negatively affect you, it made you want to work harder. You were glad that he was objective and honest, not just saying the food was good.

"We're opening the doors for dinner in 5 minutes." Yunho said through the small pick up window and disappeared.

"I forgot we have that service window." Jongho laughed.

"We've just been talking and serving through the door, which can be dangerous. We should use the window that's actually for passing food and tickets." You reminded.

"Let's do this." You gave each other pats on the shoulder and waited for the first tickets to come in.

"First customers walked in." Seonghwa informed, observing through the window.

Once the orders were taken, the waiters will key it in and the ticket will come through on the machine that's in the kitchen. It cuts the time the waiters have to come and handover tickets, it also makes it easier for whoever is at the window to sort out the orders and give out instructions to the rest of the team.

"First tickets coming in." Seonghwa announced.

Dinner service went by smoothly, there wasn't a manic rush but things weren't slow as well, which was good for Yunho. You were all able to take little 5 minute breaks in between.

"Last ticket going out. Service." Seonghwa rang the bell for pick up at the window. You let out a tired sigh, hearing Seonghwa's words.

"First day done." Wooyoung came, slinging his arm around you. You tiredly leaned against him.

"Let's clean up and prep for tomorrow before going home." You stood up. You, Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Jongho gave each other side hugs to commend one another.

"Good work today, everyone." You smiled.

"Of course, we have our leader to guide us." Seonghwa smiled softly, making you look away.

"Do your dishes." You cleared your throat. You washed the big pots, pans and trays that you used. For the bowls, you all left them on the counter neatly to dry overnight, except for the ones you were going to use now.

"Before we clean the stove and the grill, let's cook some dinner." Jongho suggested. There wasn't much but the 4 of you used whatever leftovers you could find to whip something up.

"I wish we had some of that roast chicken leftover. It was seriously good." Wooyoung pouted.

"Luckily we had some piece of the pork medallions left that we could cube up." Seonghwa said, taking a portion of pasta for himself.

The dish was a pasta with garlic, onions, basil fresh tomatoes, cubed pork pieces. Jongho sauteed the leftover mushrooms, serving that alongside the leftover roast vegetables.

"Hwa, call the front team in. I'm stepping out for a bit. You guys start eating first." You told them.

"Sure." The 3 nodded, not protesting or asking any questions.

"Hey, we made a simple dinner before we start tomorrow's prep. Would you guys like some?" Seonghwa asked. The 5 nodded their heads and entered the kitchen. Just like this morning, Yunho noticed that you were not around. Did you leave after service? Did you eat dinner before you left?

Series masterlist

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papiliomame · 9 months

Text

Finally I read the new graphic novel too and it was very enjoyable. I went in with zero expectation so I was pleasantly surprised with the big thing everyone is screaming about. Amazing art, amazing story amazing everything! Gabriela Epstein is a genius. She managed to solve many problems with the show and expands the lore in a cohesive way while also be in line with the humor and tone of the original show accompanied with wonderful illustrated panels!

Under the cut are some of my thought about it:

SPOILER WARNING!

First things first: Phantom Planet retconnned! Now the series can continue with the loose threads of the original show and the new one from this novel without making some brain gymnastic to make the events from the episode fit in these stories.

Techonological progress: Everyone upgraded to a smartphone and they even have internet and social media( which makes it funny that Vlad used an old fat destop PC for his research as a (former?) billionaire)

RIP Tucker's PDA.

Danny mentioned that Vlad terrorized him for the past few years, that means Danny is at least 16 or 17 years old in this?

Ghosts don't need to breath. Vlad didn't have a helmet on while in space in his flashback .

Clockwork doesn't shapeshift in his other forms for some reason.

And he was quite reckless to put the thermos with Phantom just there in the open, you would think you would seal an apocalyptic threat somewere safe away or something like that.

Clockwork's staff is part of the timeline itself. interesting...

Also Clockwork is really the emodiment of time not just a random ghost with the title passed down by the oberservants( read some fanon about that)

Ghost Speak is canon! Well atleast the language of the ancients is. It consist of basically of old dead languages.

The translation of Vlad's rubbings is incomplete I wonder if there is more to it.

Hmm not sure how I feel about this but the Fenton parent are still bad parents in this, like how they not care about Phantom although Jazz said that this is Danny from another timeline. Now I wonder if they would even adopt Dani with this attitude.

Badass Valerie and badass Jazz!

The Source is a beautiful place.

The truth about ghosts which is revealed in there is so deep and give so much material for worldbuilding

But one thing is sure: Ghost are souls/emotions/ energies of people or beeings who ones lived and not monsters.

Implication that ghosts are immortal. Does this count for halfas too?

Danny got a new power: fireworks

Obsessions are canon!

The fight scenes are wonderful illustrated!

Danny is really much more powerful after his newfound purpose. He didn's retransformed after the ghostly wail, he can create ice glaciers with his ice powers and his shield withstand Phantom atomic explosion attack.( also RIP A-Listers and Lance Thunder from this timeline and everyone else who was there and wasn't protected by Danny's shield.)

Phantom insisted that he is not Danny but much more than that, however while he was falling apart he glitched out and we saw Danny Phantom's face and Phantoms face but not Plasmius face in there, I wonder why.

Danny becomes the avatar!

The Valerie cliffhanger: Phantom was falling apart without an anchor, does that mean Valerie will also fall apart if she doesn't wear Clockworks medallion anymore?

The last scene: Clockwork encourage Vlad to do more with the clones and the scene is also a parallel to the ending to " The Ultimate Enemey" how the observants shift the responsibility over Phantom to Clockwork.

#danny phantom #a glitch in time #agit spoilers #agit #a glitch in time spoilers #danny phantom a glitch in time #danny phantom spoilers

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pasukiyo · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

— steve harrington x f!reader

warnings; soft smut

a/n; just a little something i wrote literally on a whim lol i’m still working on requests so expect those soon! anyways, this was heavily inspired by melting by kali uchis! definitely go listen to that :)

word count; 1.3k

; listen to melting by kali uchis !

“i think my tits are gonna melt off. and it’s gonna be your fault.”

steve’s lips curved up into a soft smile when he laughed, resting on his elbow beside her as the golden medallion in the sky beat down onto their skin. her flesh was shiny and slick with her sweat, and she squinted over at him. “i’m being totally serious, you know.”

“oh no. not your tits,” he tittered, his palm soothing up and down the exposed skin of her stomach, and although she flushed at his touch, she grimaced, it only made her feel warmer. “you know, there’s a whole body of water in front of us,” steve gestured to lover’s lake ahead with his head, “maybe there’s still hope for your tits.”

she grumbled as she shuffled closer to him, her hand finding his, her fingers weaving together with his and resting them upon her stomach. “maybe, but that requires actually getting up, and i don’t know if you’re aware of this, harrington, but your girlfriend is lazy.” steve’s head tilted back as he erupted into a small fit of laughter, and she could see his chest heaving up and down in tune with his breaths. “baby, i was already well aware, but thanks for reminding me.”

she turned her head towards him and narrowed her eyes, “hey.”

steve cocked an eyebrow in reply, “what?”

“you weren’t supposed to agree with that.”

steve sucked air through his teeth in attempt to suppress his smile daring to peek through the cracks of his lips, “you’re totally right. sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“hmph,” she huffed, closing her eyelids and facing back up towards the sky. “that’s what i thought.”

a small silence ensued, and the pad of steve’s thumb caressed the back of her hand, his opposite tousling the hair atop her head. she peeled an eyelid opened and glanced over to where he laid, a soft, permanent smile upon his lips, pearly whites peeking out at her. she closed her eyelids again, in fear that if she let her gaze linger any longer, she’d just about melt like ice cream for real.

“you’re so pretty,” he murmured, his knuckle soothing over her cheek as heat pooled there. “you look really hot.. in a few different ways.”

she gasped when she felt his arms sneak their way beneath her body, her arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck as he picked her up from the ground. “steve!” she whined as he caught his balance, carrying her bridal style as he jogged his way over to the shore of the lake, hurriedly wading through the water. she laughed when the water reached his knees and he fell forward, practically dunking her beneath the surface.

“steve!” she squealed as he splashed water around her face, and she swam her way to shallower water so that she, too, could splash him. they laughed over the water, and she turned to run away from him when he came forward, lunging forward and circling his arms around his waist to tackle her back down into the water. her fingers gripped at the dripping locks of umber hair on his head as he pushed it against her stomach, his fingernails pirouetting against the soft skin of her stomach, her ribs stinging from laughing so hard.

steve stood straight up and with his arms still closed around her waist, he pulled her into his chest, her arms slithering back around his neck. he carded loose, wet strands of her hair back behind her ear, his lips capturing hers in his kiss, one filled with much fervor, nearly knocking the breath out of either of their chests. when they eventually pulled away, their foreheads lazed against one another’s, her fingernails toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“so, how do your tits feel now?” he questioned, and she giggled, pressing a soft kiss to the plush of his lips. “well, they aren’t going to melt off now, if that’s what you were asking about,” she replied, bucking her hips into his as she hooked a leg around his, his hand slipping down to her thigh to hold her there. “but.. they could use some.. attention.”

steve’s smile was evident against her lips as he kissed her again, his hands roaming up her chest and back down to her stomach, his palms grazing over her erect nipples as they outlined through her bikini top. she moaned into his mouth before his kisses trailed down to her jaw, sucking and gently biting there before venturing down to her throat, etching small marks there too with his lips.

“stevie,” she mewled when his kisses made their rounds to her breasts, his hands reaching around to her back to tug at the tie of her bikini, the straps slipping down to her elbows so that she could be fully exposed to him now. his lips found one nipple, and he hollowed his cheeks, her back arching and chest heaving into his chest. “fuck.”

he kissed his way between the valley of her breasts as he spoiled the other nipple, making sure to suck love bites into her skin before he moved on. his palms made their descent below her belly button and down past the hem of her bottoms, the pads of his fingers grazing over her clothed clit, and she whimpered, bucking into his touch. “such a filthy, little thing, hm?” he murmured just behind her ear as his fingers pulled her bottoms to the side, his other hand working his swim trunks down until they rested just below his ass. “just achin’ for me to fill you up. you’re adorable.”

steve wouldn’t make her wait much longer.

he fisted his cock and teased the head at her entrance, and her sex practically reeled him in as he snapped his hips, bottoming out in one swift motion. she squealed at the feeling of being filled up all the way to the absolute brim, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck as he hooked both of her legs around his waist, his thrusts slow and languid, his lips pressing a kiss to her temple.

“so, so beautiful,” he cooed, nuzzling his face against the side of her head as he gave her cunt long, slow, hard strokes. “make me feel so good. i love you.”

she’d lost all her senses— or perhaps, steve harrington was all five of them, and a sixth. he was haunting, and she became a woman possessed, steve harrington conquering every inch of her body like it was her own and it felt so natural. it felt so good to just give herself up to him, to be completely and utterly his. he ignited just like a candlelight, and she melted like wax in the palms of his hands, ready to be shaped and formed into whatever he pleased.

because she loved him.

she was so in love with steve harrington, that she’d do anything to just stay in this moment forever, to never have to leave him, or this daydream..

..”hey. you with us?”

her eyelids fluttered open and although her vision was blurry, she could easily confirm that she wasn’t at lover’s lake, nor was she in steve harrington’s arms, feeling his kisses against her skin, his cock making the kind of love to her she knew was too good to be true.

robin cocked an eyebrow to her hairline as her vision finally cleared, and behind her, she could just make out the silhouettes of the rest of their group, among them steve harrington.

steve harrington gazing at nancy wheeler the way she only dreamed he'd look at her.

she blinked, “yeah. sorry, was just.. daydreaming.”

she deflated at the reminder that in reality, steve harrington was not hers, nor was she his.

if only there was a way she could stay, at least for a little while, in her daydream..

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x you #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

Note

Oooh and just thinking about detective Quinn laughing during sex, but maybe that’s just me

‼️Hold the Bourbon‼️Detective Quinn x Reader

TW: uhm filthy slutty sex, PIV, doggy, pretty damn lot of dirty talk. Just man slut behaviour- my brain is broken. This is all I’ll be thinking about for the next 3-5 working days.

He’s such a whirlwind. That doesn’t skip any damn thing when it comes to sex; he’s flippant. Dominant and he will take what he wants from you, with zero seconds notice and the biggest knife edge grin-

Grin so cunning sharp you could cut yourself on it.

The confidence this guy has? Yeah, it’s totally unmatched and he’s down for anything. He’s done it all. It’s LA man. He’s with it.

Sex is a second nature to him. The well learned back of his hand by now. He’s had partners of either gender. He knows how to touch, how to caress, to flirt and squeeze, kiss, and certainly how to fuck them.

He knows how to make the person in his bed cum like a fucking faucet and still be trembling out moans for more. He’s good that way.

Honey his dick is a solid fat ten, and he fucks like a porn star with it.

Honestly, there’s no guy you’ve ever met that’s like him. Mercurial, switchy, a changing writhing ball of slutty and well dressed energy. He’s here, there and everywhere. A storm. He’s a tropical energetic pumped storm that smells like Pour Homme.

Gold medallion swinging slamming his neck. Rattling loud. Chopping a couple lines of coke (one time, birdie, he’d winked) joint tucked in his pocket. Dancing in his kitchen mixing you a Cosmo in a cocktail shaker, in his shiny new Gucci shoes and a striped Versace silk shirt. Red cherry gum and sweet chapstick. Kissing your waxy lipstick away and mumbling how strawberry sweet you taste.

Just when he’s got you thinking you have him pegged, he’s wriggled free and a new facet of his character is ready to stun. He cancels a date, with apologies and a huge huge bouquet of yellow flowers enough for a small Italian wedding, and a handwritten card. Work took him elsewhere.

Sorry Birdie, x. Always with a kiss.

And then a night later, he’s knocking at your door. Dressed in a slutty open necked black shirt and bright pink bell bottoms. Golden Saint chain. Tilts his head at you with a smirk that’s right off some terrifying horror film. Something with teeth and predator instincts. Whiskey eyes warm you and he makes your pussy damp.

He’s got a brown paper bag in his hands. Bottle of Bourbon. Bulleit.

“I want a bourbon with ice.” He greets you with that confusing sentence.

He smiles and licks his lips when you answer the door in a scratchy old aqua blue towel. He scoffs. And then adds;

“And then I wanna fuck you, hard, doggystyle.” He announces. Eyes never leaving yours. Your heart quivers.

Such a mouth on him.

He dances inside. All intent stares and throwing his jacket in the vague direction of your coatrack. He stalks you backwards and doesn’t even look to slam the bottle down on your kitchen table.

He’s stalking you backwards. Two steps become three. Three melt to four. Backs of your knees hit bed.

Now you’re treading the worn old patchy carpet of your bedroom. Peach satin sheets all tumbled and messy behind you. Hands at your side, heart ramming as he reaches for your waist over that crappy old towel.

“On second thoughts. Hold the bourbon. Pass the pussy.” He smiles. Full with pride at his own dirty joke.

“Real nice.” You smart at him. Made you sound like a joint he could just share around.

His hands zip to the front of your makeshift towel dress. Right over your tits. He takes both sides and peels them away.

His smile curls on one side when he watches that aqua blue swim away to gone. Dropped to the floor as a damp scrap of nothing.

“She’s real nice.” He promises you. Standing toe to toe and rubbing his thumb right through the slick mess of your cunt. You watch as he pops that thumb right in his mouth and sucks-

He hums. Slipping his thumb free. You lay thick on his tongue like molasses. Only ten times sweeter. Saltier.

“I think she’s missed me. Birdie. Look how wet she’s getting.” He laughs.

His fingers are back to slipping through your cunt. Parting lips. Coaxing out more of that delightful sticky mess he always drives out of you. Drives you wild-

“She’s a filthy girl isn’t she. Just can’t help getting so slick and creamy when I’m around right?” He grins. Tongue tipped pink between his teeth.

You can’t even get a word in edgeways and he’s already shoving you back to the bed.

He’s taking off his shirt and undoing his Prada belt. Waft of cologne comes your way. “I got something for her baby. I know she must be hungry.” He winks.

Shamefully, that makes you clench. Filthy man.

And there, sprawled in your bed, you stay for a good long while-

Once he gets going you’re not entirely sure your legs will work anymore. sweat-licked skin all over, love bites on your shoulders, and he’s well on the way to fucking your brains right the hell out.

He gets his wish and does you doggystyle.

Your hips cradled snug in his hands, hurting where they’re wedged wide to make room for the drive of his cock. Bottoming out ands scraping tenderly at the warm satin depths of your cunt.

Your knees shiver into the peachy sheets. You’re drooling - it drips slick down your chin and you’re so lost in pleasure you can’t count the amount of times he’s made you cum.

A throat screaming raw amount. Enough that you know it’a not just that silky lube you use rolling in drips down your sticky thighs. Pattering to the bed.

Your hands knock onto your headboard, slamming the wall like thumps. Your palms clammy. Hair wet on the back of your neck and all clumped together thick with sweat. Stuck to your cheeks.

He stops suddenly - sits back on his heels and reaches for the bedside, lights up a cigarette. Your body bows.

“Keep that ass up.” He warns as you stay there in the dark orange wet patch. A small pinch on your thigh to enforce the lesson.

You huff for breath with the small slither of a reprieve he gives you. You hear his cig packet. The flick and burn of a lighter. The slow cloud roll of silver smoke.

He slaps his wet-smeared cock to your ass. And then your clit. Rubbing and taunting.

Drags a bone wracking shiver out of you with the sudden sensation. Then he lines his head up and slips right back on in with a slick squelch.

Moaning from deep within in his carnal chest on an exhale, puffing out smoke as he does. Holds it in his lips. Slips out the cracks of his straight white teeth.

Watching below as one hand palms open your ass and gazes at how he pushes inside you. Girth stretch stretch stretching that pretty pussy so wide. Watching the push and tug of his meaty dick slapping balls deep to your ass. Closes his eyes and savours for a second-

“This pussy has definitely missed me, Birdie. She’s swallowing me whole. Fuckkkk. Look at her go.” He starts his deep strokes again. Deep, unyielding g-spot fucking.

“I’m gonna finish in that mouth tonight baby. Fuck that throat deep and fill you with my cum. Alright?” He says like it’s an afterthought.

You barely had the energy to sob. Or nod.

He’s stroking your hip and ass. Hand slowly crawling up your spine to feel the slam of his hips rippling through you. Your ass was so fucking round and nice. Every part of you is exquisite and he wants overdose on you like bad cocaine.

Another deep drag of his cigarette. He slows. He thinks. Devours you in your post orgasm gaze with those killer eyes. He rambled on.

“Then, I’m gonna eat her for a little bit.” He pauses to lick his lips. “Oh. She’ll be so nice and juicy for me by the time I’m done. Melting into my mouth.” He decided as his thrusts picked up speed and punching ferocity.

“Then-“ He huffs as he really starts to ram you up the bed. Smacks it to the wall. Wants to wake up some of your asshole neighbours. Anger some folks.

“I might have my Bourbon.” He finishes his words with a gasp that morphs into another laugh.

Your pussy choked down clamping on his dick. He hisses through his teeth.

“Or I might lick it off your tits. Haven’t made my mind up yet.” He sighs. Smiles and smokes some more. Pounds away.

You just lay there and take it- this man in all his filthy fleeting bliss. And you wouldn’t change it for a thing- you couldn’t even if you wanted too.

#punkwrites #detective quinn #detective au #tainted love #i would die for this man #joseph quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn photoshoot #this is so dirty omgg #idk where this came from #bourbon and pussy

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sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine · 1 year

Text

That Kind of Love

First of the (belated) Valentine’s Series!!!

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

CW: 18+, minors DNI. (spoilers) slight exhibition, fingering, oral (both f!recieving) lingerie, alcohol, slight stocking/lingerie kink, katoptronophilia (mirror kink), unprotected sex (DON’T DO IT)

{Author Commentary: The title is a lyric from Dinner & Diatribes. And I fear there may be casualties :) }

The ice in your glass clinked softly as you absentmindedly twirled your cocktail straw. As you sat at the hightop of the lux hotel bar, your mind was playing out the potential of the night to come. A warm hand traced a line down your mostly bare back as a familiarly playful voice sounded behind you. “Hello there, stranger.” You turned on your stool, the dark red silk of your long, slitted dress fluttering in the air. Jake took in your appearance, his hand remaining on your back. He was fresh from a show, dressed in street clothes but with lingering evidence of perspiration around his hairline, and in the strands that fell from his loose bun. “You look lovely-” he started, but you had already slipped your hand around the back of his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. When your lips parted after a moment he spoke against them, lowly, just to you “I should shower, can I get the room key?” You leaned into his neck, getting a taste of his salty skin and inhaling his heady musk and day-old cologne before sighing jokingly, “If you must…” You both chuckled as you pulled away to retrieve the keycard from your purse.

You tucked the card into his shirt’s breast pocket “10th floor, room 1029.” He smirked at you, retrieving it. His hand left your back, reaching around you to pick up your drink. He stole a sip, keeping his eyes on yours before giving you another sweet kiss, and placing it back in your hand. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll be right back,” he said as he grabbed his overnight bag and started walking backwards towards the elevator. You watched him go, taking another sip and smiling to yourself in anticipation. They were in the middle of a string of shows, opening for an older band. But the two of you hadn’t spent a valentine’s day apart since you started dating, and this year would be no different. You were insistent on planning everything, so he wouldn’t stress himself out during the tour. You’d booked a hotel room specifically for that night, in part because you knew the state his touring room was likely in, and because you had some specific plans for tonight, that would require a specific room.

You sipped your drink lazily till you got the notification that the table you'd booked at the hotel's restaurant was ready. You closed your tab and picked up your small purse, making your way to the restaurant. You found the table, a cozy, booth with tufted high back seats and a round table. Jake was sure to love this, the low lighting, candles on the table, and lush velvet on the seats. You sat down and were about to text him when a waiter approached with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You set down your phone, your smile growing as he explained it was sent to you 'from Sir J. Kiszka, with his apologies for the delay'. Your cheeks grew a bit red as you thanked the waiter and nodded when he offered to open it. You didn't bother doing a trial sip, he knew what you liked, and it was sure to be quality. He loved going ‘all out’ for these occasions. The waiter poured the two glasses and asked if you needed anything else, but you said you'd wait for your partner to arrive.

You looked over the menu, thinking it might be a night for some shared appetizers and sides since you certainly didn't have the patience for multiple courses. A figure approaching in your peripheral caught your eye and you looked up, instantly beaming. There he was, in all his splendor. He was dressed in well-fit trousers and an, of course, partially unbuttoned charcoal grey shirt. His medallion necklace gleamed on his chest, and his hair hung in loose fluffy waves. He'd taken the time to dry it, so as not to be upstaged. He slid into the other side of the booth, sidling up next to you so you were both slightly facing each other, slightly facing out towards the rest of the room, from your own little corner. He placed a hand on your thigh as he leaned in to greet you with a kiss. Another olfactory profile of Jake surrounded you; this one consisting of his woodsy shower products, a smokey classic cologne, a hint of mint in his kiss, and him, of course -your favorite note. Your hand rested over his under the table and he seemed to savor the wine on your lips. He pulled back, smiling as he reached for his own untouched glass. “How is it?” He swirled the wine in his cup before taking a sip. “Delicious. Excellent taste you have, Sir,” you said as you grinned at him, maintaining his playful eye contact. He set his cup down, “Yep, that is good. ...Did you have dinner orders planned?“ he settled in more, sipping his cup again, not bothering with the menu. He knew not to fight you when you had a plan in mind, and you loved that about him. It was good for him to give up the reins now and then. “I was thinking something light, they have a tapas sampler, ‘little bit of everything’ type appetizer.” “Sounds perfect.”

After placing your order you took your cup and settled into his side a little more. The two of you chatted about your day, his show, and the tour so far, as well as your coming out for the final show so the two of you could get away for a few days before going home together. When the food arrived you ate and made each other laugh. As you made your way around the variety of spreads and flatbreads, cheeses, and roasted vegetables, you each declared the latest one the best one, holding out a bite for the other between sips of wine. After you’d filled each of your glasses with the last of the wine, you settled back in the booth, facing him. You hooked your adjacent knee over his so your thigh was slightly elevated. The slit silk of your dress slid back a bit more, revealing your upper thigh. Jake took his glass as you handed it to him before his eyes fixed on the bare skin above the stockings. His hand rested on your knee before his fingertips trailed lazily up your inner thigh. His touch was featherlight and torturously slow, inching up a bit each time before trailing back. “D’you want to order dessert?” he asked casually, his eyes returning to yours as his hand continued it’s minimal progression. You were too focused on his fingertips about to brush your underwear, and the reaction you were anticipating. You paused, your lips opening slightly as your eyes tore away from his hand to meet his. “I don’t think we’ll make it that long…” he tilted his head slightly, at the perceived challenge before his hand made the final edge forward to trace his middle finger up the center of your panties.

At least, that’s what he’d expected, a thin fabric, probably of the silk or lace variety to tease you over. What he didn’t expect was for his finger to slip between two thin pieces, perfectly tailored to allow his fingertip to slip into your warmth. His breathing stalled and he registered your wet warmth. A fire lit behind his warm brown eyes as the corners of his lips curled into a smirk. “What were you planning to do with these?” his voice was low again, only meant for your ears. “Oh, my plan is playing out perfectly...” you breathed as he extended his finger to trace the length of your heat, up to your clit. Now your breath was stalling as you waited for him to move. Your eyes were still locked as he let out a short laugh. His hand retreated to grab your inner thigh, hiking it up higher on his thigh as he shifted closer. He leaned into your ear as his grip remained tight on your thigh, “We're definitely ordering dessert.” You smiled, biting your bottom lip before taking a sip of your wine. “What are you feeling?” the innuendo was not unintended.

You felt him smirking against your ear. “My hands are a little busy at the moment…” his finger dipped between your folds again “can you get the waiter’s attention?” Heat began creeping up your neck as you cleared your throat and set down your glass. You scanned the room, making eye contact with an approaching waiter. Jake sat up slightly, his finger curling to nudge into you. Your adjacent hand quickly dropped to hold his wrist. It would look inconspicuous to anyone on the other side of the table, beyond the draped white tablecloth. It probably looked like you were holding hands on the seat between you, ‘wouldn’t that be sweet?’ The waiter stepped up to the table, both of you giving him hopefully natural-looking smiles. “How was everything?” he asked cheerily. “Amazing,” you answered, keeping it short. “Absolutely delicious,” Jake said. You could hear his smirk, you didn’t even have to look. “Great! Can I get this cleared up and bring you a dessert menu?” You felt Jake's finger start to curl inside you. “Yeah, that would be great!” you bit your tongue after that enthusiastic response. Jake’s finger continued its slow teasing curls as the table was cleared. You tried to focus on breathing naturally. “And will you want drinks with dessert?” the waiter asked as he piled on the last plate. You blinked a few times before opening your mouth to reply. “-I think we’re good, still have some wine to finish” Jake answered for you as forming a basic sentence seemed beyond lost on you momentarily. You nodded in agreement, smiling at the waiter again as he nodded and carried the plates off.

As soon as he was a safe distance away you loosened your death grip on Jake’s wrist, letting out a sigh and closing your eyes. His finger retreated, a second one joining it in slipping through your folds, gathering your increasing wetness before gliding up to your clit, adjusting his angle till he brushed over it in a way that resulted in a jolt. Your legs instinctively went to pull together but his far hand rested on your elevated knee, keeping it hooked over your thigh. You bit your lip, taking a steadying breath through your nose. “That was pretty good… Are you gonna be that composed when he gets back with the menu?” Jake asked, his voice lightly teasing. You let out a breathy laugh, that threatened to turn into a whine, “Not if… you keep that up…” “Hmh.” He pressed a quick peck to your cheek, “Then just keep my fingers warm for me, babe.” Jake slipped the two fingers down into you, keeping them curled but still. “Heads up-” He whispered, nodding toward the approaching waiter. Your eyes shot up, your hands lacing and resting on the table as you gave the waiter a smile. “Here you are,” he handed you the dessert menu, “and I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” “Thank you.” As he walked away you set down the menu in front of Jake and reached for your wine glass, taking a slow sip. He picked it up, lifting his hand off your knee. You leaned over to look at it, placing your hand between his legs. You smirked as you felt the heat radiating from his half-hard cock. “What are you in the mood for?”. He grunted quietly at the subtle pressure of your hand. “Hmm, something sweet …and creamy.” You snorted at his heavy-handed innuendo before scanning the list. “Ooh, there’s a tiramisu… ” You turned your head to actually look at him dead-on for the first time in a while. His face was closer than you remember, his eyes were locked on you, taking in your features. He licked his lips as his eyes landed on yours “Whatever you want, doll.” You lifted your hand from his lap, placing it on his far cheek to bring him in for a kiss.

You pulled away when you heard footsteps approaching. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, did you get a chance to decide?” he smiled at you both, and your seemingly innocent displays of affection. “Tiramisu please” you smiled, handing him the menu back. “-To go. And could we get the check please?” Jake tuned in. “Of course!” the waiter replied before he was off again. Jake immediately leaned in again, catching your lips in another kiss. You slipped your hand off the table again, giving him another squeeze. You felt his brow crease as his forehead rested against yours. “Hang in there..” you cooed, “it’ll all be worth it.” He chuckled, flexing his fingers inside you as a little reminder. You’d grown acclimated to their presence, and took in a sharp breath and his palm simultaneously rubbed over your clit. You attempted to press into it for more friction. His palm pulled away, leaving room for the side of his thumb to begin circling your clit. Even at this limiting angle, his dexterity from 20+ years of guitar made it nothing less than pleasurable. You brushed your thumb along the lip of his head, watching his eyes flutter closed. You’d pulled your face away slightly to appreciate his moment of lapsed composure. “Did you like the room I picked?” you asked casually, continuing to tease your thumb over his head. “I… didn’t really get a long look at it… didn’t want to waste time. -But I’m sure it’s great.” “You’re gonna love it.” you said before nodding at him to look up as the waiter exited the kitchen with your boxed tiramisu a black leather check holder.

Jake’s hand retreated from you fully for the first time since you’d sat down. You unhooked your leg from his, crossing your legs to fight the newly cold, empty feeling. Your hand left his lap as you both composed yourselves. He got out his card to pay before the waiter even made it to the table, clearly impatient. You giggled, hugging his arm and resting your chin on his shoulder as he put in his card and handed back the check holder. You both sipped the last of your abandoned wine, sharing a conspiratory laugh till the waiter returned with his card. You picked up the bag that held your to-go container as Jake hastily signed the check and you both thanked the waiter before scooting out of the booth. You hooked your elbow around his, the bag swinging from your other hand as the two of you made your way to the elevator. Once you were both thankfully alone inside the elevator, he turned to you. He held your jaw as he kissed you against the mirrored wall of the elevator. You dropped the bag to the floor, taking his hips to pull him into you more. “Hey, careful, I’m actually gonna eat that later” he grinned against your lips, referencing your hasty discarding of the dessert. You both laughed. You leaned into his ear, “me first.” you whispered before biting playfully at his earlobe.

As the elevator dinged he grabbed the bag before you could, guiding you by your lower back to the room. He unlocked the door, holding it open for you to float in. You walked backwards towards the main bedroom area of the suite. He followed, placing the dessert in the minifridge without taking his eyes off you. “So… “ the timber of his voice as he slowly stalked towards you in the dim light sent a delicious shiver down your spine “something special about this room you thought I’d like?” You backed against the outside wall, feeling behind you for the seam in the curtain. You held up a remote you’d grabbed off the bed and pressed a button. The curtain behind you parted, each side retreating to an opposite corner of the room, revealing the two walls that formed the corner of the building were floor-to-ceiling windows. “I thought you might appreciate the view…” The cityscape glittered behind you as you tossed the remote on the bed, reaching behind you to pull the short zipper on the back of your dress, letting it slip and pool on the floor. You leaned back against the cool glass as Jake stood a few feet away, taking in your black lace garter belt set that perfectly matched the panties he’d been introduced to at dinner.

Once his eyes had taken their time, committing your image to memory seemingly, he stepped over to you. His lips had curled at the corners in a positively devilish expression as he skimmed a finger under one of your garter straps. “So…” the tip of his nose brushed the side of your cheek “you want to get fucked against these windows?”. You just smiled up at him, tilting your head, hoping he’d take the bait of your elongated neck. He hummed low in his chest giving pursing his lips slightly and giving a small nod. “Interesting time to start playing coy,” his free hand trailed around to your lower back before slotting itself where the curve of your ass was pressed to the glass. He took a firm handful, his warm palm feeling amazing on your cooled skin as he pressed your hips firmer to his. “-After I’ve fingered you in a restaurant?” he murmured in your ear.

You sighed as his lips finally dipped below your ear, your hand sunk into his hair at the back of his neck, holding him to your neck. “So, are you gonna show ‘em all how good you are to me?” you asked. Jake smiled against your now damp, kiss-flushed neck. “Yeah, babydoll.” Your free hand had started tugging the hem of his shirt from his pants, desperate for more skin-on-skin. He took over, stepping back a bit to finish the remaining buttons and tossing his shirt aside. You impatiently reached for his belt, deftly unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops of his trousers with a dramatic swish. He watched you amusedly but stopped your hands when you reached to undo the button of his pants. He chuckled at your frustrated huff as he undid and slipped off his pants, leaving him in a form-fitted pair of deep blue boxer briefs. Maybe he sensed that you would've immediately dived into his pants without taking them off fully, -you couldn't deny that.

Once he was free of his pants, your arms immediately encircled his waist. One of them splayed on his warm skin, pulling him against you. The other slipped under the band of his briefs, over the full swell of his ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. He chuckled before pulling your arms around to rest your hands over his shoulders. Then he was dropping to his knees. He kept one leg at a ninety-degree angle, forming a platform as he lifted one of your legs to rest your foot on his thigh. He trailed his hand tantalizingly slow up your stocking-clad calf, then up the underside of your thigh before his dull nails sunk into the soft flesh, where the bare skin swelled beyond the lace edge of the top of the stocking. As he tipped his head to press a kiss to your elevated knee, you combed back the hair that threatened to obscure his face. His features were soft, his expression almost meditative as he kissed the inner side of your knee, then nuzzled your inner thigh. He held up your thigh, dropping his own leg to get closer. He exhaled, the heat permeating the thin nylon before his open mouth closed over it, kissing your inner thigh. He hiked your calf over his shoulder so it hung down his back, bringing his face even nearer to your center. His kisses trailed over the lace edge and, finally, his lips ghosted over your bare skin. Your excitement was growing with each second, just waiting for his beautiful lips and sweet tongue to embrace you. The tips of his fingers trailing through your folds brought a whimper from you. His teeth sinking into the hypersensitive point of your innermost thigh turned it to a moan as your hands tightened in his hair. His thumb started stroking small deliberate circles over your clit as you felt two familiar fingers slide into you. You still wanted his mouth but it was a welcome relief from the unbearable anticipation. His mouth was stalled, licking over the area he’d just inflicted with his teeth, worshipping it with light kisses as his fingers kept you -almost- satisfied.

“Jake- I need you- ” You whined. He chuckled, giving the cheek of the leg still draped over his shoulder a squeeze. “I need you too…” he placed a final kiss on your thigh. The true weight underlying his words only made the fluttering in your stomach increase. He looked up at you as he removed his fingers, spreading the parted lace to finally suckle your clit. You sighed, arching away from the glass as his beautiful lips parted further, his tongue welcoming you. “Oh fuck-” you moaned, unable to come up with anything more delicate as pure concentrated pleasure consumed you. Your hand tightened in his hair as your supporting leg threatened to buckle and send you crumbling over him. His hand not holding a firm grip on your ass moved to stroke up the thigh of your supporting leg, holding your hip firmly as his tongue continued its unrelenting coaxing. “Jake-” you truly felt like you had no control left in your legs, despite feeling the force with which your heel was pressing into his back, pulling him impossibly closer. “I’ve got you… just keep saying my name” his voice was deep, silky smooth, and warm against your dampened skin. And you did. His name poured from you in breathy verses till even it became too much for you to articulate. One of your hands shot back, planting on the cool glass with a thud in an attempt to anchor you as you gave in. You were lost to the world for those moments, supported only by his sturdy hands and slowing tongue as you came down.

He gently unhooked your leg from his shoulder so he could stand up. You started pulling down your dampened panties, which you’d thankfully had the foresight to wear over the garter straps so you could keep the stockings on. He helped you step out of them before tossing them aside. He hooked your legs around his waist and leaned you against the glass, supporting you with his hands and the pressure of his hips as he leaned into your neck. He breathed in the smell of your heated skin between kisses before ghosting his lips over your ear. “You still want me to fuck you against this glass, doll?” Your hands held the back of his head and the top of his flexed shoulder as you caught your breath. "Yeah, baby, fuck me good, you always do…". He groaned against your neck and you could feel him pulsing against you. “Oh, I will babe.” He gave your thighs a final squeeze before unwrapping them to steady you on your feet. He slipped off his underwear, kicking it aside. He turned you towards the glass, sliding himself between your thighs. His hands held your hips, pulling them back from the glass a bit so only your chest and the side of your face pressed against it. His length retreated before sliding through your folds again, nudging your clit. You whined at his teasing, wanting the delicious thudding of his hipbones against you to be accompanied by the familiar fullness of him inside you. “Fuck.” he gritted out, sliding through your slick a few more times before reaching between you, and positioning himself. “Are you ready for me baby?” he breathed against your ear. He knew you were, you were dripping for it, but you played into it cause you what it’d do to him. “So ready, please Jake, I need it.” all true, the build-up, though pleasurable, was bordering on unbearable with the need that was growing inside you.

Finally, he slid into you. When he had filled you to the hilt he paused, holding your hips so you were pressed back into him. His open mouth met your neck as you moaned and dropped your head back on his shoulder He was was perfect, all of him, warm and solid. A shaky “please-” from you and he was pressing you against the glass. You gasped at the contact with the cool smooth surface and his momentary retreat before pounding into you. Each thrust satisfied while fueling your need for him. His breathing became rough, almost grunts, as he finally let his body take control, fucking into you with reckless abandon. His hands moved up your sides, greedily indulging in every inch of you. Shameless noises were streaming from you as you surrendered to the fire growing inside you. “Jake-” you reached behind you, gripping desperately at his hip. “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let ‘em know how good it is.” You rested your forehead on your forearm on the glass, breathing raggedly as the pleasure coursed through you. He’d slowed to a stop, arms wrapped around you as he tried to slow his breathing, waiting for you.

“Take me to the bed.” you panted, feeling like your legs would give out if he let go. He chuckled into your neck before nosing at your shoulder, “You wanna keep going? Ya sure?” “Obviously” you snarked back, but he could hear the smile in your voice. He held your hips steady as he pulled out slowly with a stifled grunt. You turned around so could lift you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He held you against the glass for a moment, taking in your fucked -literally- state with a beaming smile. It was a look you’d come to know, the same look he gave you when he was about to say he loved you, or was thinking it. He leaned his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one holding his shoulder, the other the back of his head as you pulled him in for a soft kiss. It deepened as you dragged your nails across his scalp. “Fuck…” he exhaled, his eyes still closed, forehead still resting on yours, “‘m not gonna last much longer…”. You smiled, securing your arms around him “then let's get to that bed.”

He gave you another quick kiss before lifting you away from the window. He walked the few feet to the bed, giving you a slight toss so you landed in the middle of the bed. You giggled at him as he climbed up the bed towards you. He kneeled between your legs, his hands roaming up your thighs. He leaned over you before sinking into you again with a sigh. He kissed you slowly, taking up an equally slow, but deliciously deep rhythm with his thrusts. His kisses trailed to your neck as he focussed more on the feeling of you. Your eyes flicked to the ceiling, meeting your own gaze in a mirror perfectly positioned on the ceiling over the bed. The final little surprise you’d planned for him that night. Your hands splayed on his shoulders and upper back as you appreciated the view. His damp skin and arching back as he thrust into you were mesmerizing. You’d never been treated to that view before but the way you felt your body reacting, you knew you’d have to find a way to make it happen again. One of your hands moved to his waist before you watched in the mirror as you grabbed his ass, making his leg shake, and his pace stutter.

“Hey, babe-” while his kissing was paused to catch his breath you lifted his face to look at you “I’ve got one more thing for you, look up-” you motioned with your eyes to the ceiling. As he sat up more to crane his neck back. His lust drunk confusion turned to awe. He took in your reflection laid out on the bed. Your hair pooled around your head in a sort of halo, your skin was warmed and glistening and the two of you were still joined at the center. His eyes darted back to your face, met with your devious grin as you watched it set in. “Fuck me, Jake. I wanna watch you cum.” He licked his lips, sitting back on his heels and hiking you up to rest on his thighs a bit. His eyes locked in on where he entered you, bucking his hips up experimentally at the new angle. Your mouth fell open at the new sensation. Your eyes were locked on his face as he stared at the reflection of the two of you, his brows were tented and sweat had started trailing shining contours down the sides of his face and neck. And his sounds, oh his sounds were possibly the prettiest thing to ever grace your ears. They were interrupted as he bit his lip and dropped his head back, breathing heavily through his nose for a moment, newly visible to you in the mirror. His hips thrusted up a few more times in rapid succession as his mouth fell open with a moan. He'd come deep inside you, filling you perfectly as a lingering wave of pleasure washed through you. You were too exhausted to need anything more than to watch him in the mirror. He breathed deeply, the dim light shifting on the shining skin of his elongated chest.

He lifted his head to look down at you. His palms smoothed over your thighs in a slow, repeated pattern as he looked you over, appreciating every bit. You trailed your hands up his forearms, and wrapped them around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you. He held your hips as he softly transitioned them to the bed, pulling out of you. You winced slightly and he kissed your forehead. He lay next to you, draping an arm loosely over you as you both basked in the afterglow, breathing in sync. He nuzzled into your neck and shoulder, mumbling sleepily “Thank you for everything, this was a wonderful valentines day…”. You smiled, carding your nails through his damp hair, “my pleasure… and we still have that tiramisu.” He laughed silently into your neck “Mmm… as long as we can eat it in the bath.” “Not gonna argue with that.” He shifted onto his back slightly, smirking up at the two of you draped over the wrinkled blankets like an intimate oil painting before meeting your eyes in the mirror. “And in the morning… I need you on top.”

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

{Tag List: @star-boxer @doodle417 @greta-van-chaos @weightofdreams-gvf @prophetofthedune @gretnabancheese @shutupdevvie @jackiidk @t00turnttrauma @groggyvanfleet @garagebandvanfleet @gretavanflowerpower @joshkiszkasunshine @razorbladekiszka @hyperfixated-gvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @dannyandthekiszkas @rhythm-of-space }

#ya know... like when- so like... yeah #valentines series #TKOL fic #jake kiszka fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka imagine #gvf #greta van fleet #impure thoughts

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sunshineinagrove · 4 months

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it's finally done :D @skyloftian-nutcase your late Christmas gift is here!

Sky watched as his brothers fell one by one. First it was Wind, getting caught by a club from a moblin that had hit him in the back of his head, Four getting revenge for him but failing to see the spear a lizalfos aimed at him on time, then Twilight falling to a lucky shot by an arrow. The rest of the chain had desperately tried to make up for the losses but to no avail, their attempts only getting weaker when Hyrule was found on the wrong side of a bokoblin’s sword and Wild promptly getting smashed into the ground by another moblin’s club. With both their archer and healer taken out, the chain was getting overwhelmed faster than before, and the Links were becoming more reckless. Warriors cleared out a large amount of bokoblins and lizalfos with a few wide sweeps, but a lynal proved to be more than he could handle. Time got rid of said lynal and was cleaning up the rest of the smaller monsters when a lizalfos caught him off guard, leaving Sky and Legend to be the last ones standing.

Sky glanced over to the veteran hero and found that Legend had pulled out all the stops and had his ice rod in one hand and sword in the other, swiftly freezing his enemies and cutting them down left and right. Time and Warriors had cleared out most of the swarms of weaker monsters, leaving only a few monsters that had managed to escape the onslaught. Legend had cleared out the rest of them, and for a moment it looked like the battle was won. Key word, moment. Just as Legend began to make his way over to Sky, a golden lynal from Wild’s era burst through the trees, knocking down Legend with a single swipe of its sword. Legend didn’t get up.

Sky saw red.

That thing was a coward, waiting until they were on their last legs, thinking they had won. As if to add insult to injury, brute looked proud.

Sky threw himself at the lynal, Master Sword in hand and ready to fight to death to avenge his brothers. But what he hadn’t expected was that Legend had enough in him to peel himself off ground and channel everything he had left into one last attack, a final push for Sky. Sky could see that Legend had spent the time he had been lying on the ground gathering up his strength and wits, deciding what he wanted his final blow to be. Legend was pulling out all the stops, only stopping short of killing himself from magic over use and exhaustion. Sky didn’t wait for Legend to make his move, Master Sword in hand and deadly sharp, gleaming with holy light. After a few quick swipes he jumped back, giving Legend the opening he needed. Legend shoved an arm down his tunic and pulled out a string of medallions. Sky felt the ground shake, then the shaking turned into a full-on earthquake. The lynal was thrown off balance and the ground erupted below it. The shaking gradually stopped, and Sky saw Legend drag himself into the underbrush before collapsing. Sky didn’t wait another second to continue his onslaught. The battle ended in a few minutes as Sky tore into the lynal, his sword slicing through like a knife through butter.

The moment the lynal fell Sky rushed back to the group. Legend had given out completely, but Warriors, Time and Twilight were all stirring. Sky rushed to help Warriors up, and the two managed to pull Time up, Twilight not needing help to stand. Sky fumbled in his pouch for a red potion, and handed it to Time, who pushed away.

“You take it, you need it more than I do,” Time insisted.

“Sprite,” Warriors said sternly. “We just restocked, and the nearest town is only an hour’s walk from here. I think we can spare a few potions.” Time sighed and took the potion and downed it in one go. For the next few minutes, the oldest members of the group each took a potion and managed to pull the rest of the group together.

Later, once camp was set up and Wild had a thick beef stew bubbling over the fire, Sky felt like he could finally relax, and only realized how tired he was when he leaned against a tree and closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of chatter between his very alive brothers. They’re fine, they’re all safe. The battle’s over. A voice in his head said.

Next time we encounter the Shadow, he’s paying for today.

I’ll make him if it’s the last thing I do.

#lu legend #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu warriors #linked universe #lu wild #lu time #lu wind #lu four #lu twilight #sunny writes #Skye!!!

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two-red-lungs · 1 year

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Pick Your Poison

Paul/Fem!Reader

Content: Slow burn, stoner!Paul, he’s the Drugs Guy and I love him, unresolved tension, the Lost Boys are SO toxic

Word Count: 2.9k

The neon sign in Saigon Soul’s window hummed, luminous and red, casting vermillion’s feather-soft hue across the rapidly cooling colors of the night. The last rays of the sun had faded less than an hour ago: but as soon as they did, like clockwork, your new favorite entertainment emerged. Just like he did every night. A reverse Cinderella.

Red looked good on Paul. It haloed his product-stiff blonde mane in a ruby glow and glittered like pomegranate seeds in a marching line down his gilded row of medallions. Turned his off-white eyes and teeth pink, too. He huffed, smacking his lips obnoxiously in an effort to puff away the heat of his extra-spicy beef noodle pho, flapping his hands about. The piles of bracelets on his wrists jangled.

“Fuck me, man. That’s good.” He said in his usual laid-back, loose tone after a gulp of iced tea from his flimsy paper cup.

“Mmm.” You hummed and picked up a heavy shrimp spring roll with your chopsticks. Maybe it was the thick seaside summer air, or the heavenly deep-fried smells that wafted your way every time the narrow restaurant door opened, but the damn things smelled amazing. “Told ya. This place is a total hole in the wall but their food’s primo.”

“Uh-huh.” He sucked pepper oil off the pad of his thumb and scratched his stubbly cheek contemplatively. Even like this, reeking of sweat and looking like a cat got lost in his hair somewhere, he was so beautiful it was almost ridiculous. Damn those baby blues. “My man Dwayne’s gonna dig on this stuff. He’s one bona fide heat fiend. Eats the fuckin, the… the uh…” He snapped his fingers a few times, brows furrowed in utmost stupefied contemplation. “The little spoons, with the red powder on top, you know—”

“Tamarind candy?”

His face lit up like the sun. Jesus Christ. That smile was a flashbang, a dynamite stick, a stun baton. Made you go all stupid. “Yeah! Yeah, man, the tamarind candy! Gotta get him some of that stuff.”

You looked down at your paper plate of food and worried at the inside of your lip with your teeth. Somewhere down the street dance music was playing. Car lights ghosted over your and your dinnermate, lighting up the strangers that walked by on the sidewalk next to you. It was by all means a perfect night: balmy wind and the distant sound of the boardwalk rides on the air. But Paul bringing up his brother… it sent an uneasy sensation down your spine and you couldn’t quite pin down why.

Paul had stumbled into your life three weeks ago, completely drunk on the beach. You’d been a good samaritan: held his hair back while he puked, tossed him a bottle of water while he reeled and slurred out that his brothers had dumped his ass for being too intoxicated. But the whole while, he grinned. Like he could enjoy anything. Like no matter what situation life put him in, he’d find some way to have fun.

He sat by your little bonfire in the grassy dunes and you chatted. You showed him some of your stick-n-poke tats and he’d insisted on getting one himself. And (in a decidedly less good samaritan way) you’d given him one, india ink blackening your fingers and his inner arm skin cold under your fingers. And that’s how you’d gotten to know him, how you’d continued to know him over the last collection of days. Alone, just him. His weird, easily-distractible, impulsive, entertaining self. He mentioned he had three brothers, once or twice, and you took it in stride.

Then you’d seen him with them.

He was like an entirely different person.

Across the sea of beach boardwalk heads you’d spotted him. But it didn’t feel like him. He sat lazily up on a railing surrounded by equally eccentric young men, and they watched the crowd like tigers. Like mad kings looking down on their kingdom. A beautiful young woman passed and they all jeered, whooping and whistling and clapping: even Paul. With an aggression and odd hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before. They all moved in tandem, like wolves, wordlessly communicating in a way that made your skin crawl.

You left.

Now he was Paul again tonight: just Paul, the Paul you knew and hoped to god was the real version. The guy who couldn’t talk and chew gum to save his life. The guy who declared a thumb war with you and proceeded to lose six times in a row. The guy who delighted in rocking the sky-glider that slowly trundled over the pier until you were shrieking and clinging to his coat.

Either way, real Paul or not, you were glad you’d yet to meet his family.

The blonde stretched, yawned, and hopped out of his seat, digging a hand into his dingy riding pants pocket. When you moved to counter, pulling your wallet out of your bag, he uh-uhed you and flapped his own leather-bound one in your face. “Not a chance, girl. Paulie’s good for it.”

You raised your brows. As far as you knew, he was a surf bum with a penchant for partying. No way was he holding down a nine to five to pay for dinner.

Paul scoffed at your look. “I got a freebie from a real charitable dude.” He flashed the corner of a hundred at you and stuck out his tongue with a smile before wrestling two fives out of his cash-thick wallet.

“Uh-huh. Someone just… handed you what, looks like… six hundred bucks?”

“He didn’t need ‘em anymore.” Paul didn’t even watch his wallet fall, he just dropped it to the table, flattening the bills to presentability with his fingers. “Try not to miss me, ‘kay?” In a whirl of pungent sea salt and old-timey coattails he was inside the little eatery, the bell on the poster-covered door jingling.

You idly scratched at the hem of his leather wallet with your thumb nail while you waited. Real charitable dude, huh? You weren’t stupid. Paul was a street fiend. Ran trades and exchanges from the pockets sewn inside his coat with practiced ease, like he was born to sell ditchweed and glass-cut coke to summer-break college students. No doubt that’s where the money came from. Hell, the way he was standing around with his brothers… you wouldn’t be surprised if they were his suppliers.

Something crunched under the edge of your nail. You brought your thumb to your face. There was a line of red, deep and nearby brown, trapped between the keratin and your skin. Dirt, obviously.

It was dirt.

Had to be dirt.

Like a category three hurricane, Paul was back, and before you knew it you were on your feet and moseying down the bustling town avenue. One of his long, lithe arms was draped almost crushingly over your shoulder, holding you to his side. He jingled with every footfall. Golden strands of hair blustered in the corner of your vision and you felt his ribs, pressed against your side, swell and contract with a contented sigh.

Two could play at that overconfident, wild-child game. With a little effort you extracted a pinned arm and shoved it under his coat, grabbing his waist over his mesh top and holding him much in the same way he held you as you jaunted down the avenue. He threw his head back and laughed, his stride never wavering.

“You kinda got guts, girl.” He cackled into the coastal breeze.

“So, Paulie.” You ignored his needling, crossing the crosswalk and ambling past seemingly endless pizzerias and cinemas and smoke shops. “Level with your good, kind, very honest and transparent friend. How many acid tabs did you sling to get that sorta funding?”

Paule shook your shoulder with a strong hand. “Wasn’t lyin’ to you, c’mon. I really did get that green for free.” The walk sign nearby turned from stop to go and you crossed another street. “Me and my brothers, we got ways, y’know? Not gonna be strapped for cash any time soon.”

Sometimes, when Paul looked at you just right, you thought your damn heart was gonna beat out of your chest. Like he saw right through the bullshit into your soul. But other times, times like now, you realized just how little you actually knew the guy.

“I got ‘bout an hour before I gotta jet, girl.” Paul started talking again and you blinked: you’d arrived in front of the bulb-studded Casino Arcade arched entrance at the boardwalk without even noticing it. When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you, eyes crinkled in kiddish mischief. “You down for a puff ‘n play?”

“Just an hour?” You mockingly pouted, extracting yourself from him and crossing your arms broodingly in the small ever-flowing crowd of young adults going in and out of the noisy arcade. “Geez, Paul. What am I, a time-killer till you can go have real fun?”

He laughed and there was a bark to it. “If you could handle real fun I’d take you with me.” A little of his usual spaced-out bliss receded. “But I, uh. Don’t really think the guys would appreciate a plus one at our… parties.”

“Wow.” You deadpanned. “Not vague and condescending at all.” With a conceding huff you punched his shoulder playfully, making his body rock like an inflatable car-sale mascot. “Fine, blondie. I’m game.” Paul was grinning from ear to ear and dragged you by the sleeve off to the underside of the pier, fishing around in his inside pockets. “But none of that skunkweed, you hear me? And if I kick your butt at Speedway again you gotta gimme your ring like you promised last time!”

He stopped short so quickly you nearly collided with his tall, narrow back. Paul whirled around. “Yeah? What do I get if I win?”

You were very acutely aware of how close he was standing, nearly chest-to-chest, and how the shadow-painted back side of the arcade by the barnacle-stippled pier was much less crowded than the arcade. You swallowed and his sharp, playful gaze tracked the motion of your throat reflexively. “It’s— augh, um— mystery prize. Can’t tell you what it is till you win. Which you won’t.”

He was silent for a few seconds, sucking on the inside of his cheek. Thinking. Then he grinned. “Alright.” He flicked a lighter across his knuckles and pressed the button down. The little firelight flickered wildly in the turbulent air. “Let’s get toasted.”

Sitting down in the shadow-dark sand between the pier legs, watching him roll a joint right then and there on his narrow knee, you reeled. Sometimes you really couldn’t tell what his deal was. Were you a time-killer? A listening ear? A friend? The way he looked at you, sometimes— it didn’t feel friendly.

If it was good or bad, though… the jury was still out on that one.

So. It wasn’t skunkweed.

It was nice and palatable and bright. Absolutely top-shelf stuff he was handing out to you pro-bono. The world was a delicious blur: arcade lights were multihued and the speaker music was pop-y and completely grooveable. Your skin prickled in the hot interior air: fabric just felt better after a few puffs. And god, Paul was the funniest, weirdest, most oddly endearing beanstalk of a man when he was on the stuff.

He had his forehead pressed so hard to the claw machine it was going to leave a red halo: he beat the side with his fist and howled in breathy, entertained frustration when the wimpy claw let the neon green monkey plush slip from its grasp under your careful joystick management. “Ahh, you dropped it again! Unbelievable!”

“It’s not exactly made to be easy, doofus! I’d like to see you try.” You half-chuckled, half-grumbled, feeding the hungry quarter slot more change. You missed the slot a few times before you succeeded.

Paul reeled back and rounded the machine like a big cat, waving jingly arms. “You’re an amateur, girl. Let a pro show ya how it’s done.”

You assumed he’d push you out of the way: god knows he'd done it before. But no, of course now he decided to act exactly like the Paul you’d come to know. He pressed up behind you, chin tickling the crown of your head, and put a hand over yours on the joystick when the machine popped back to life, revitalized by the loose change. It chirped out a happy eight-bit tune and Paul hummed along to it, guiding the claw around and back. His fingers were cool over yours. You could feel his belt buckle biting into your back over your shirt.

You held very, very still, mouth pressed into a thin line. He jammed the drop button. The claw lowered, clamped over the green monkey, and hauled it over to the prize chute. It dropped it without a hitch: the plush clunked into the deposit receptacle.

Paul’s mouth was behind your ear, cold breath on the shell of it. “See? Pro.”

Then he was gone, crouching like an animal by the chute and wrestling the monkey free, and god you were reeling again: collecting your very high nerves with hands still clutching the sweating joystick plastic.

“What’s my prize?”

“...Huh?”

Paul doubled down, resting his weight against the Blasteroids arcade machine and wiggling the monkey at you. “I won. What’s my mystery prize, hmm?”

You collected yourself enough, finally. At least enough to scoff dismissively. “Please, I basically wiped the floor with you in Speedway and Super Mario—”

“You can’t argue with evidence, girl.” When you lunged to snatch the green ‘evidence’ out of his grip he reached upwards with it, holding it over your head mockingly, a cheshire smile on his face. “Cough it up. I want my prize.”

You jumped for the monkey and it went even higher. Grumbling and hopping and face starting to grow very flushed with an ‘I don’t have a fucking mystery prize’ panic, you rambled and cajoled at him, flipping between wheedling and threatening. It took you about fifteen seconds to realize he was no longer staring down at you, but rather over your head.

“Paul.” A laid-back, low male voice said evenly from behind you.

An icy knot formed in your stomach. You turned, slow as a glacier, and yep, it was exactly what you thought it was. Two of the brothers you’d spied the blonde hanging out with before. The tall, dark, and brooding one, and the peroxide-spiked trench coat model.

The latter lifted his eyebrows at you when he caught you staring. A tight, cold smile graced his lips for a moment before he turned his cutting gaze back to his brother. “Thought we all agreed to be at the statue by ten. We missed you.” His eyes slide back to you. “Who’s your friend?”

You stood as tall as you could in the given circumstances, feeling rather like a park ranger making himself as big as possible to frighten off a bear. An introduction was on the tip of your tongue. It got knocked off of it when Paul abruptly elbowed past you, shoulder-checking you hard enough to offset your balance. When he stood by his brothers, he looked exactly in place. Like he was meant to be there.

He glanced down his nose at you. There was a different sort of smile on his face. An insider smile. One you didn’t feel like was for you. “Just some chick, David. Y’know how it is. Where’s Marko?”

“Scoping out dinner. Probably waiting on us, now.”

“Shit man, then let’s go!” Paul crowed, snapping his fingers and grinning, tongue trapped between his teeth. “I’m starvin’.”

The whole while they talked, the tall, dark-haired one watched you with crossed arms. Taking in the way your face shifted, the confused, hurt pinch in your brow. The pac-man machine illuminated half his face, like a skull of amber-yellow. You caught his eye. The intensity of his gaze forced yours down to the multicolored carpet.

“After you.” David gestured broadly with a gloved hand towards the arcade entrance, and Paul flounced towards it without so much as a goodbye or a sparing glance in your direction, even after an entire evening together. David looked at the dark-haired one. “Dwayne. Time to roll.”

A long-drawn out pause. You refused to look up.

“...Comin’.” Dwayne eventually said. The trio disappeared between arcade machines, tops of their heads barely visible, then vanished into the crowded Santa Carla night.

The green monkey was abandoned on the floor, limbs splayed. You picked it up, its glassy plastic eyes blankly reflecting the arcade lights. Like it was mocking you for being there, alone, after that.

“Fucking asshole.” You breathed in disbelief to yourself. Far more hurt than you thought you’d be. You’d hung out with him for what, six days, tops? Were you even friends? Was he not just some nighttime stranger, a weirdo who emerged from the woodwork to show you a good time once in a while? Paul was good. Paul was fun. He was a fat blunt and a shot of tequila and a roller-coaster ride all wrapped up into one person.

You’d picked him as your poison of preference. It was a good poison. Now you were starting to wonder if you’d picked wrong.

#the lost boys #tlb paul #The Lost Boys 1987 #tlb fanfic #my writing #does this fic go anywhere? no. but i simply wanted to write it #having lots of Paul Thoughts today so

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azure-wolf-227 · 10 months

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Titan Luz AU - Titan Luz��s Design

I drew Titan Luz’s appearance throughout my Titan Luz AU.

First we have Luz’s appearance when she first enters the Isles. Her fur is the same shade of purple as canon Titan Luz’s hair, and I thought it would be cute if her feet were a lighter color; originally, her eyes were going to be the same color as King’s, but then I decided that purple eyes fit her better; Luz has a scar on her left foot from being caught in a snare trap set by Jacob Hopkins. As Luz doesn’t have external ears in her real form, she ties those cords on her horns that translate into earrings when her disguise is active. Titan Luz is the same height as Canon Luz, for now.

After the AU’s version of ‘Knock, Knock, Knockin’ On Hooty’s Door’, Luz goes through a growth spurt that result in some changes in her appearance. The most obvious thing is that Luz grew wings; her sclera is now black and her pupils are now slitted, resembling Papa Titan’s eyes. Her horns grew longer and now resemble the ones Canon Titan Luz had. Her hands went from three-fingered to five-fingered, either Luz grew two extra fingers, or the ones she had splitted - either way, it was painful. You can’t see it because of her clothing, but Luz now has the bony outer ribs Canon Titan Luz has. Luz is now the same height as Canon Titan Luz, and this new height results in a new outfit as her previous clothes no longer fit.

Luz gains a small crack over her left eye during a confrontation with Belos. This crack echoes the scar Canon Luz received from Belos during their fight in the Season 2 finale.

Luz goes through another growth spurt during the timeskip and is now almost seven feet tall - she is taller than Eda; her shoulder are broader and she grew another pair of teeth in her skull; and she has a purple star sticker on her skull alluding to The Collector.

Luz’s growth slows down after her 18th birthday, so she won’t get any bigger for a long time.

Have you noticed than none of my Titan Luz designs wear pants that go all the way down to her feet? That design choice was because I felt it would be awkward to draw with the way Luz’s legs bend.

I used this concept art as a reference.

Here we have my designs for Luz’s own set of Glyphs:

I headcanon that each Titan develops their Glyph language based on their personal experiences and the people in their lives. That is why King’s Light Glyph alludes to Luz’s Titan appearance, because he associated her with Light.

Light - Find something familiar about Luz’s Light Glyph? Well, this Glyph was, in fact, influenced by The Collector as they and Luz were playmates before Papa Titan imprisoned the Collector. That’s why the design of Luz’s Light Glyph include the sun and moon symbols that are on The Collector’s clothes.

Kind of ironic that The Collector influenced the design on a Titan’s Glyph when Titan Magic cancels The Collector’s magic.

Ice - Camilla influenced the design of Luz’s Ice Glyph. I just have this image in my mind of the Noceda family going ice skating and Camilla being very skilled at it while Manny can barely keep himself from slipping.

Plant - This Glyph was influenced by Manny giving Camilla and Luz flowers for their birthdays, and later Camilla and Luz’s tradition of giving each other flowers then visiting Manny’s grave.

Fire - Manny also influenced the design of Luz’s Fire Glyph as I headcanon that he was a firefighter.

Luz’s Glyphs share some similarities to the Canon Glyphs as they are also influenced by Papa Titan. Unlike King, Luz actually knew their father briefly, so her Glyphs reflect their connection.

Before sending her through Time and Space, Papa Titan gave Luz a medallion to protect her.

This medallion was originally engraved with a sigil to hide Luz from the Celestials - the name I’m giving to The Collector/Archivists’ species. After The Collector was freed and their friendship with Luz rekindled, Luz changed the engraving to that of her Light Glyph.

Aside from hiding her from the Celestials, Luz’s medallion also serves as a more advanced version of a Concealment Stone, disguising Luz as a human.

I said it works as a more advanced Concealment Stone because the Illusion is solid, so the disguise doesn’t just look real, it feels real.

There is also some Dimensional Storage magic included to hide Luz’s horns and tail. Basically, Luz’s tail and horns (and later her wings) are ‘tucked’ into these ‘dimensional pockets’ whenever her disguise is activated. So, while the horns, tail and wings are still attached to Luz’s body, they don’t exist in the same ‘dimension’ as it (I hope that made sense).

Luz’s medallion creates her disguise by taking the features of the people that Luz views as parental figures. The disguise originally resembled Luz’s canon human appearance, but it later began to include features taken from Eda and Raine as Luz subconsciously considered them second parents.

(I forgot to add the medallion, so just imagine it’s tucked into Luz’s shirt).

The changes were slow and gradual so no one really noticed them until the AU’s version of ‘Yesterday’s Lie’ when Luz first saw Vee-disguised-as-Luz and found her appearance unfamiliar.

#the owl house #toh fanart #luz noceda #toh luz noceda #luz is a titan au #titan luz au #toh alternate universe #toh au #luz fanart #luz noceda fanart

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fioreofthemarch · 7 months

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Finding Her - Chapter 19

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 17:35. 9th month, 18th day 104AC Location: Lookout Landing, Emergency Shelter Weather: Overcast, drizzle

Arm hurts, really hurts. A Yiga got me there. In a bad way, but getting better.

Don’t know where to start or where to end. It’s Autumn already, but it was Summer yesterday. Talk of a Blood Moon soon. Or did that already happen? Head’s swimming. Losing my grip a little and then suddenly I’m

Upstairs, in the loft, dozing. Zelda’s downstairs. Where’s the flour? she asks, I want to bake something. It’s been over a hundred years! So we try but I’m a better cook than a baker and she’s a culinary mad scientist. No measuring cups, no recipes, just vibes. We’re sitting on the floor waiting for the cake to bake, flour everywhere, and then she’s on my lap, then her lips are on mine, then her apron is gone along with the rest of our clothes, and when I wake up in bed next to her, there’s still flour in her hair.

Was that yesterday or the day before? Trying to hold on. Time flowing through me like air out a window. If I reach out I can catch moments in my palm: Standing with Scorpis under a sunshade, waiting for the rain to pass. He’s telling me it’s a family legend that his great-grandfather was a Knight, like me. Then I’m with Jerrin, getting my bandages changed. She says it’s a miracle I survived, or perhaps the Goddess’ idea of a joke. Then Muzu is insisting we train the soldiers harder, but Slergo and Offrak say people are already working their guts off. Gralens hands me the latest edition of the Lucky Clover Gazette. Buliara and Harth take inventory of my gear and weapons. Mubs reads me a letter from Garini, who says hi.

I’m here. I’m trying to be here. They’re saying the Sages are on their way to Lookout Landing. They say victory is near. But all I wanted was her, and that future only half-dreamed. The one where we have a house on a hill and it’s being renovated to add a library. Zelda’s downstairs, reviewing the plans over a cup of tea, and I’m upstairs, in the loft, checking on the baby. He was a winter-born child, like me, so he’s strong. There’s a cake in the oven. And it’s a good one.

A photograph of the kitchen in the Emergency Shelter. It’s quite orderly, as though someone has recently given it a tidy, though some jars of flour, sugar, milk and yeast are still out of place. There is a fire crackling below the stove.

Caption: Does she prefer vanilla or chocolate icing? I should know this…

---

Log date: 19:34. 9th month, 21st day 104AC Location: Passeri Greenbelt, Hyrule Field Weather: Partly cloudy

Cool morning. Trees are going red now. Rode out with the Monster Control Crew at noon. There’s a camp nearby that they hit once every few weeks, but each time it gets rebuilt a little closer to Lookout Landing. We prayed at the Goddess Statue before we left. Paya is here now, leading the services. As the hours tick down, all round the clock, people pray.

The Sages arrived two days ago. Impa and Robbie not long after that. Here to give every last Message Medallion a service, Robbie said, while Impa handed Josha a stack of ancient texts to translate. Then, an emergency meeting with the Sages. They’re fidgeting, they’ve heard the rumours. Purah starts saying something but I stop her. They won’t believe the truth from anyone but me. Don’t know what I said, only that I tried to think of how Zelda would tell them, if she were in my place.

Felt like all hell broke loose after. Gasps, cries, bowed heads, furious tears and vows of vengeance. All that anger and grief is a torch to a powder keg. Suddenly Purah is saying we march at dawn, tomorrow we avenge our Princess and destroy the Demon King! And I’m standing there unable to breathe because I realise I'm not ready. I can’t face him yet and I don’t know why. And I’m trying to think of how to say that without freaking everyone out, because your hero isn’t exactly meant to have second thoughts… when it’s Josha who saves me one final time.

‘You can’t go!’ she cries. She grabs some ancient book and flips through the pages, pointing to what looks like a lunar chart, with a bright red circle at its centre. ‘There is a Blood Moon tomorrow! If it happens while you’re down in the Depths, it could be a disaster!’

More whispers. A bit of back and forth. Purah brushes her off as paranoid, but then the Sheikah gather around a couple calendars and do a few calculations, and in the end, the attack is called off.

So Ganondorf got himself another day, and so did I. Can’t delay forever but… there’s just something not settled in me yet. When we win this, everyone else’s lives go back to normal.

But what about mine?

A photograph of the night sky, clear as glass and only broken up by the pinprick lights from distant stars. Low above the horizon, almost pulsating, is a huge, crimson moon.

Caption: She was right, the little rebel.

---

Log date: 10:00. 9th month, 22nd day 104AC Location: Sanidin Park Ruins, Hyrule Ridge Weather: Fine

They’ll have realised I left by now. I put a note on my pillow promising to come back by sun-down. Have to keep moving in case they send scouts after me.

Not abandoning them. Would never dream of it. But I promised myself to chase every lead and this last one is for me.

Read through the Lucky Clover Gazette this morning and a headline on page 8 caught my eye. WINGED WRITER HANGS UP HIS FLYING GOGGLES. Penn? He’s leaving the Gazette? He told me that Traysi loved his work. I have a great all-weather climbing set to show for it.

Might be stalling. Might not. Just want to figure this one out. Penn was looking for Zelda too, after all. And maybe searching for something else along the way – a reason to wake up each morning, get back on the trail, and soar long…

He deserves to know what happened, or at least for someone to thank him for his hard work. Or maybe I just want to see a friendly face, before the end of it all.

A photograph of the said Lucky Glover Gazette article, held up for the camera, the greenery of Hyrule Field just visible in the background. There is an illustration of Penn literally hanging up his goggles, with a pantomimed look of resignation on his face.

Caption: You can take the man out of the newspaper…

---

Log date: 15:50. 9th month, 22nd day 104AC Location: Great Sky Island, Central Hyrule Archipelago Weather: Clear

I found Penn on Washa’s Bluff, in a gazebo where an old friend and I sat once. Kass would sing until the sun went down, and as thanks I’d make us both dinner. His songs still carry on the wind if you know how to listen. They’re the songs of the land, after all.

We talked for a long time. I told Penn we made a great team, that his leads were invaluable, and that chasing them down kept me on my toes. Sure, we didn’t find Zelda, but we told the stories of her people and should be proud of that. He said he’s still leaving the paper no matter my flattery. Spoke about having lost his touch, that his instincts were gone. A reporter without instincts is like a Knight without a sword. It didn’t help when he noticed that I did, in fact, have my sword back.

‘Don’t worry about me, partner,’ Penn said. ‘I’ll get back in the air, someday.’

But I was worried. I didn’t want Penn to lose hope… I didn’t want to lose hope. And in that moment, it felt like waking up. Like surfacing from beneath deep waters. I wanted to be alive. I wanted to live a good life. I knew I still did, even without her, even with all the pain.

So I said to him that maybe wanting to be better is its own instinct. Maybe trying to find something or someone or some meaning to it all is what keeps us going. And maybe we don’t have to do any of that alone. Penn sat with that for a long time, and then pulled out his notebook.

‘Would you want to write a column for the Gazette?’ he asked. ‘Our readers would love it. I’ll edit it, of course.’ How could I say no? We shook on it then and there. So much for his sabbatical.

It’s nearly time. I bid Penn farewell, then came here. Wondered — if I could choose how to spend one last afternoon, what would I do? The answer was easy, though it took a little while to coax Zelda to join me. But now we’re here and we’re ready: for a nap, with the sun on our backs, and nothing else but us and the quiet moments we can still share.

I miss you, Zelda, even though you’re right here. I miss you more than I could ever say. But I’m going to keep on living. I’m going to live enough life for the both of us. I think it’s what you might have wanted.

If nothing else, I consider it a duty. What is a Knight, if not a devotee to his lady?

A photograph of the Light Dragon, coiled around a hollow tree stump that sits atop one of the atolls of the Great Sky Island. Three Korok wind-fans are placed in front of her snout – a makeshift lure, and apparently a successful one. On her mane is Link, resting comfortably on her hair. Together, they doze.

Caption: You deserve all the rest in the world.

---

Audio log transcription date: 104.09.24 Time: 9 minutes 45 seconds.

LNK | 08:00 Gloom’s Approach in sight. All units report. Vanguard?

MIN | 08:00 We will lead the charge.

YNB | 08:00 Launching on your command, Link!

LNK | 08:01 Flank?

RIJ | 08:01 Static charging as we speak.

TLN | 08:01 With some guidance. Arrows ready. Any monsters down there won’t know what hit ‘em.

LNK | 08:01 And rearguard?

SDN | 08:02 I am here. If you are hit, fall back to me.

LNK | 08:02 Last not but least, intel?

JSH | 08:02 Reporting in. We’re here to help from Lookout Landing, however we can!

LNK | 08:04 Alright, listen to me. Zelda gave us everything she had for this, but she also gave me an order: protect you all. If anything happens, you get yourselves out. Everybody lives, do you understand me?

MIN | 08:04 Link…

TLN | 08:04 What about you?

SDN | 08:04 Zelda would not want you to throw yourself at death!

LNK | 08:05 That’s not happening, not when I have her power right here with me.

RIJ | 08:05 Then give us your orders Link.

YNB | 08:05 We’ll do whatever you say.

LNK | 08:05 Fight smart, hit hard. Don’t touch any Gloom, keep your Sundelions in reach. As soon as we have a visual on Ganondorf, we do whatever it takes to finish the job. Clear?

[All answer: ‘Clear’]

LNK | 08:06 And whatever happens… I’m glad to have spent this time with you.

RIJ | 08:06 Likewise, Link.

MIN | 08:07 Yes, it has been an honour.

TLN | 08:07 We’ll finish this together!

SDN | 08:07 For the Princess!

YNB | 08:08 For Zelda!

LNK | 08:08 For Zelda. Any last words? Josha?

JSH | 08:09 Nothing at the moment, but the further underground you go, the weaker your signal will be. I’m going to disable a few processes to conserve power, like the audio transcription. Let’s hope we don’t need it.

LNK | 08:09 You heard her. Make it count. Or at least live to tell the tale.

LNK | 08:10 Okay, heading in. See you on the other side.

#totk #tears of the kingdom #zelink #tloz fanfiction #legend of zelda #zelink fanfiction #link #penn #ITS NEARLY DONE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #she's nearly home boys lets gooooo

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occasionallyprosie · 2 months

Text

"The Stand Of A Survivor"

Chapter 2: "Earthquakes"

Legend has done too much, experienced too much, overcome too much, just to die here. He would not die on a quest, he swore that years ago when he first accepted his role as the hero. He would never let himself die on a quest, not before the evil was vanquished.

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 28: "No... Not like this"

<<Previous | Next>>

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3 Warnings: None ----

The explosion sent him flying even further into the forest and he tumbled over a fallen tree, slamming hard into the ground.

He wheezed, dazed, drained, and still in blinding pain from whatever had hit him.

He heard the monsters chasing him, he saw their shapes rushing toward him. His sword was long gone, he'd find her again he knew that, but it left him without a blade and with low levels of magic.

He strained to stand, seeing the monsters run at him. He took out a spare sword, glass though it was, it would deal the damage he needed for now.

The monsters didn't become more than blobs in his spotty, pain-blinded vision, but he had fought on the brink of death before. He could do this--

The glass sword shattered as he was hit and sent flying into a tree. The air was knocked from his lungs and he choked as the familiar feeling of ribs breaking and stabbing his lungs returned. He had gone a whole year without that feeling and it wasn't long enough.

Oh, the thought came as the monsters rushed him like locust towards a fresh crop. I might die here.

"No," he growled, choking out blood.

He grit his teeth and activated the Quake medallion, hand pressed to the ground and it exploded, tearing up the ground in a circle around him and keeping the monsters back. Blood bubbled out of his throat and dripped from his nose.

He stood against the tree, monsters taking long enough to get over the roughened terrain that he could stand. His head spun and the magical depletion was setting in fast.

He took out his ice rod and fire rod.

"So this is how we go?" He grinned, wiping the blood around his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm not going down here. Not like this."

Not during a failed ambush. Not when he had people depending on him. Companions to finish the quest or not, he was never going to die on a quest. He refused that fate.

He would not become a repeat of his predecessor.

Next>>

#linked universe #febuwhump 2024 #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #linked universe fanfic #whump fic #legend refuses to die #hes iconic like that #we love him for it #prosie writes #I'll have part 3 out in a few days #sooner if yall ask for it nicely :)

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datawyrms · 2 years

Text

Frozen Findings

I did a fic for Minibang as well c: You can also read it on Ao3! And check out the art @skarlettskwrl made c:

The chill that had infested the Infinite Realms at the news of Pariah’s return was far worse than any cold that could be felt even in their frozen homeland. The unsteady peace everyone had slowly become accustomed to was again teetering on the edge of collapse. Pariah would not have changed during his imprisonment. The King’s mad insistence that all must bow down to only him to be a united front against a world most did not even see first hand would rip the Realms to shreds. Either through fighting amongst themselves, or shoved back again by the living to fight a war on two fronts.

It took everything for him to keep a brave face for his people, to lead and pretend he had the confidence and ability to pull all of the Far Frozen through another merciless war. Most had tried to forget those times, to forget what had been done to their friends and family that had fallen. The twisted mockery in the oversized skeletons mindlessly following the King’s will. A death in everything but name.

Frostbite’s arm ached at the memory, and he forced more ice into his mangled limb, ears flat against his head. He couldn’t forget that time, not as a leader. It was too important to let it sink beyond his active thoughts. He had hoped all the others could forget, that they should forget it as an atrocity that could never occur again. So the knowledge of the ability Pariah made use of would be utterly forgotten and lost to even Time.

A foolish hope, perhaps. A dream more befitting of the living than the dead. He could claim they would shore up their defences and take up arms to push the tyrant back a second time, but he knew the truth. The Far Frozen had endured, not won the last time. Luck had spared them in the end.

Frostbite had been the third chief to take up the mantle in a mere span of months. He had already picked out a fourth when it became clear the corruption to his arm could not be shrugged off.

It was pure chance that the mysterious ancient ghosts chose to act before he fell. That he was still able to lead his people into a time of prosperity and renewal. That is why they honoured these ghosts, made murals and carvings to thank them for stopping Pariah’s unyielding hatred. Even if they kept those reminders farther away from their living spaces, a history not everyone had to know so keenly.

Would those ghosts assist again? If they did, when? Before his people were ravaged and destroyed? Or only after? They would not have the advantage of being distant and unknown to Pariah this time. He would remember the people who repeatedly refused to bend. He would remember who he decided to break.

Bending now wouldn’t spare them. Pariah was not a forgiving madman. Not that they would. Bowing to such a cause would be an insult to everything they were, healers and protectors, watchers from afar. Not bloodstained warriors that killed all those that stood in the tyrant’s path.

Most concerning were the rumours that Pariah found—or made an heir. Another tyrant to be. Another monster that would know how to twist other ghosts until they broke, no matter how much they resisted. There was an opportunity hidden in that awful news. If the heir apparent was destroyed, Pariah would lose a tool he had invested deeply in. Rage would give him power, yes, but he would be more prone to act recklessly, to be less thorough. Some of his people might be able to escape, go into hiding while the King assumed he had removed all of the Far Frozen from existence.

It wasn’t a plan for victory. Just survival.

He did not relish in that option, but the delicate ice medallion held between his claws betrayed his fears. It had been so long since he had made the first one. An age where he had not needed to put the burden of being the surviving successor on another.

To hand this over to Hailfur would alert all of his people to the danger he felt the Far Frozen were in. The danger that Frostbite did not expect to survive.

“Chief Frostbite! The Tyrant has sent a messenger!”

He forced his face to remain still at the news, nodding at the smaller yeti. “Thank you for the swift alert. I will consult with them alone.”

“Is that wise?”

“If I do not return, I expect you and the other elder warriors to help evacuate.”

The yeti seemed to slouch at the order, eyes widening. “Frostbite, surely you don’t want us to abandon you at the first sign of trouble?”

Frostbite bit back a sigh, grasping the warrior’s hands gently. “Yes, I do. Our people are more important than a single member.” He slowly let go of the other’s claws once he was sure the little medallion was safely in their grasp. The smile he wore was forced, but leaving a fellow Far Frozen with only a frown to remember him by would be unfair to both of them. “Now go.”

Pariah loved to send ‘messengers’ who liked to make their point with attempts to maim and slaughter. All the more reason to stand alone. If they wanted to use underhanded tactics, they could try it against him. See how far that got them when there were no children to torment.

He walked with a heavy tread that had nothing to do with the deep snow, tail flicking to obscure his pawprints as he went. Keeping confident would be difficult if he rushed. More time in the brisk wind would help him find his centre and prepare.

Yet no amount of preparation could make him ready for what he found in the audience cavern. There was no warrior, or a menacing mockery that dwarfed the room waiting for him. Instead there was a child.

No, no. Not a child. What appeared to be a child, at first glance. The gangly limbs and scruffy mess of hair mimicked someone young well. Yet it couldn’t totally hide what it was. The green eyes might appear curious, but the foul darkened scar across one of them betrayed it. Pariah’s mark, proof of the ghost’s unshaking loyalty. A foul monster trying to prey on Frostbite’s weakness for the young and helpless. It was a sick, twisted trick, and he hated how well it worked. Even the ugly unhealing green scar on it's chest made him feel pity instead of fear.

Frostbite did not want to strike this creature down. Not while it was so small and hesitant. Once it stopped pretending, he would be fine. He just had to keep telling himself that. He kept his head high to loom over the little monster and spoke much louder than he needed to, so as to better fill the entire cavern with his presence. “So, you requested an audience?”

The ch- the thing gulped and hunched its shoulders, green eyes no longer scanning the walls to focus entirely on him. “Yes, I did.”

No threats yet, curious. Though this servant might have been ordered to behave more passively to better mimic the child it was pretending to be. “Your audience is granted. I am Frostbite, chief and protector of all the Far Frozen. Whom do I have the pleasure of conversing with?”

“Oh I’m Da-“ the smaller ghost broke off suddenly, looking at the ground. “Phantom, I guess.”

Strange. Pariah’s spawn was sticking to childlike behaviour, even when correcting an ‘error’. It put a discomforting pressure in his chest, to be so privately hostile to such a good mimic, and he cursed the tyrant all the more for using such a tactic. He would not break before it did. “Oh, there’s no need for ceremony here, if you prefer another name.”

“Ceremony? Oh no. It’s just um. Sorry, you probably don’t care about this.”

“The Far Frozen are known for their patience, do not hesitate on my account. I would like to know who you are, after all.”

Phantom still looked small, shoulders hunched as he considered the reassurance. “It’s just my friends said that’s not who I am…so I’m not using it for now. I don’t want to upset them more.”

Friends? Pariah did not have friends, did not tolerate his servants to make ‘worthless’ connections that could not be exploited for future gains. Yet this ghost had some elaborate fiction about having some at one point. Before being bound to the tyrant’s will, perhaps. Allowed to ‘remember’ such a thing just to burrow into his fur and bite past his defences. “I am sorry to hear your relationships seem to be strained, young Phantom. Come, we will sit and discuss the message you have brought.” He meant what he said, even though he should not. This was not an upset child. This was an assassin, an enemy. Curse his weakness, curse Pariah to stoop so low as to make such a tool.

The boy followed as Frostbite took his place at the circular table, but hovered uncertainly at the frosty pillow on the floor.

“Do you require heat to be comfortable?” An easy lie it could tell, just to test the waters.

Instead the servant hung his head, legs melting into a tail that he slowly began to wrap around himself. “I guess I don’t anymore.”

“If you do not feel at ease even if you are not cold, we have blankets you may make use of.”

“That might be nice? Uh.” Phantom hesitates again, not moving. “I don’t need it, it’s okay.”

Doesn’t want one because it might slow him down when he decides to attack? All the more reason to insist and be a good host. Frostbite only needs two steps to reach the basket resting against a wall, plucking a light blue fuzzy blanket from the top. “Would this do?” Instead of letting the boy answer, he sets the blanket around the small ghost’s shoulders and steps back.

He’s not upset. Instead he clings to the blanket and wraps it around himself, hiding the scar on his chest and that weird one piece outfit of his. It amusingly makes Phantom look taller, the blanket trailing down to the ground and hiding his tail. “Thanks.” Instead of speaking further the boy busied himself in sitting comfortably, very focused on the fabric and the floor instead of Frostbite.

It was strange. Too convincing, wasting too much time instead of doing the job it was sent to do. He had to push his tongue against one of his canines, hoping the pain might help clear his head. That white haired ghost is not a helpless child that needs protecting. He does not need to give it something to fiddle with or snack on. All he has to do is listen to its threats, and get rid of it. Permanently, if at all possible. “My apologies for the distraction. We can discuss your message now.”

Phantom refused to look up, mumbling a little as he fiddled with the corners of the blanket. Stalling for time?

Time was more on his side than Pariah’s goon, so Frostbite allowed for the delay, letting the silence inside thicken as the wind screamed just outside the comfortable cavern.

Phantom finally cracked, a long breath escaping him before he spoke. “I know that Pariah was a monster to you guys. So I know this kind of sounds bad? I don’t like what he did.” His voice remained boyish, hesitant as he ran sentences together. In a rush, concerned of what reaction he would earn. “What I read was awful. Really gross. I-I don’t want him to start doing that again.”

Frostbite raised an eyebrow at the blatant disloyalty. This was a new sort of strategy, acting like they were allies when they were anything but. Still, he would allow the creature to continue. There was no point in interrupting when he clearly hadn’t even gotten to the point yet.

“So um I came to talk? He doesn’t watch everything- he didn’t destroy Amity Park as long as I uh. Made sure they didn’t do anything to try and fight him.” Phantom’s voice was barely above a mumble as he reached the end of his sentence, hand clamped tight to the back of his neck. “It wasn’t good but no one died? They don’t like me much, but at least they’re still alive to hate me, you know?”

“You sound as if you wish to convince yourself more than me, young one.”

He flinched, managing to somehow look even smaller in the blanket that dwarfed him. “They’re alive, that’s what matters. It doesn’t matter if I’m,” his voice cracked “not welcome there.”

Do not comfort the ghost. All it’s doing is trying to make surrender sound ‘good’. Yet his arms ached to scoop the ghost up and allow him to sob into his shoulder. Why did he have to look so young, sound so sincere?

“I think I can convince Pariah to leave you guys alone too? If you don’t fight. If you surrender and he’s busy with other places he won’t be able to do…those things again.”

“So you’re asking my people and I to surrender without a fight, to a tyrant that slaughtered thousands of us to bolster his armies? Based on a poorly made assumption?” Frostbite couldn’t quite hold back a growl at the absolute audacity of this ghost, but at least it helped him stop feeling so worried about the little thing. “Is that your message?”

“No! Well. Sort of, I just-” he stammered, shrinking back instead of pushing forward. “You know he’ll just do it all again! A-at least this way you’re safe! And not made into mindless skeletons! I don’t want that to happen again!” Phantom looked up instead of away as he denied Frostbite’s disgust, eyes burning with an energy that he had lacked before this moment. “I won’t ask you guys to fight or do anything for Pariah. If he doesn’t like it, t-tough! He should have thought of that before letting me take care of parts of his kingdom!”

That changed a few things. Phantom wasn’t just a servant. This little ghost with the body of a child was Pariah’s chosen heir. A monster in waiting. What was worse was the honesty in his voice, the fire in his eyes as he spoke absurdities. “Phantom, you are young, correct? How long have you lived in the Infinite Realms?”

He blinked, brow furrowing in confusion at the question. “I didn’t really live here before Pariah wouldn’t let me leave. Uhh. A few months?”

No wonder he said such things. This ghost was practically an infant. Someone snared into Pariah’s web before he even had a chance to be his own person. A cruel, tragic fate. “Then I will ask you this. If we agreed to your suggestion, and then Pariah told you he would go back on your agreement, what do you think you could do to stop him?”

“He couldn’t! It would be an agreement-”

“With you. A servant. Breaking your word will not hurt him, nor would it stop him. He was not called a tyrant without cause, child. Pariah broke vows and shrugged off the consequences because he decided he was right to do so. If you truly think you could stop him, you would not already belong to him.”

Something in the boy broke then, clutching at his chest as he sagged where he sat. “N-No. If I can’t keep anyone safe, what’s the point?”

“This Amity Park you mentioned, Pariah’s ‘promised’ to allow you to protect it?”

A mute nod.

“Boy. You must be aware that you cannot defy Pariah. No matter how you feel.”

“I can’t say what I want, sometimes. That doesn’t mean I think what he wants or just do everything he wants!” A pathetic sort of defence, but a useful one for the yeti to make his point.

“If you cannot even speak freely, do you really think you will have a choice if he commands you to destroy the place you protect?”

The shudder that passed through the boy’s slumped form said more than enough. Of course he’d never considered such a thing. Of course he was already primed to obey and not question his ‘parent’, thinking trust was something that would go both ways. An innocent mistake that would grow and twist this fired up child into a thoughtless executor of the king’s will. The kindest thing would be to free him while he was still not entirely the king’s.

“I didn’t think he could, all the things I read-” Phantom mumbled, still not moving, “Why did I just believe that? I’m so stupid.”

He should still be wary that this was a trap, a trick, but the pain looked too real to be an act. Frostbite did his best to step lightly, crouching down next to Phantom’s blanketed form. “Being manipulated by a being far greater than you is not your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you, I really thought I could-” he paused as Frostbite gently nudged him against his furred shoulder. “I wanted it to work.”

He let the boy clutch at his fur, lifting him gently and holding him close. It was unfair, and he would despise himself for this. Yet it was the only kind thing he could do for Phantom. Freedom was forever out of his grasp. He would make it as painless as he could. “I know. You understand why we cannot just give up, yes?”

“Uhhuh.” A sniff, like the boy was doing his best not to actually cry.

Not that it mattered, with him this close Frostbite’s keen ears could the distress deep in his chest, the very core of his being shaken by a reality he had been unable to consider on his own. It was the best place to aim, and the boy was so very small. One accurate ice claw through the back would be more than enough. “I do not blame you.”

He mumbled something that sounded like a thanks, keeping still in the warm embrace. Unaware and too distracted with shame to notice how Frostbite’s grip had subtly changed.

This wasn’t hurting him. It was a quick hurt, a much kinder fate. Pariah would lose an heir and a puppet in one blow. Phantom would not be twisted into a monster his current self would despise. He was just so small, so open that it was agony to think about what he was doing. He shouldn’t hesitate like this. Yet there was something buried in the shock and sadness crying from Phantom’s chest. A second sound, an emotionless sound that did not keep in time with the rest of him.

That shouldn’t happen. Shouldn’t really be possible to occur, not without the ghost suffering greatly for being so incohesive at their heart of hearts. Frostbite stayed his claws and cocked his ears, trying to better make sense of the sound. “Young one, I hear something strange. Are you aware of why your self is not in harmony?”

“No?” The question finally made him stir, looking up at Frostbite instead of staying burrowed in his fur. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Phantom was a painfully young ghost, to not have even a hint of what he was being asked. Frostbite just had to find the word humans liked to use, to help him understand. “Ah, your ‘self’. I think humans liked to say they felt things with their hearts? Think of it like that, but you feel and think with it as a ghost.”

“So you’re saying I have a weird…heartbeat? Or ghost heart thing.” Phantom tilted his head, his curiosity quieting the worst of the pained noise within him.

The second sound was still there. Weak and slow, but present and unchanging despite how the ghost’s mood had shifted. An unnatural separation that the child somehow didn’t notice, didn’t seem pained by. How much he should clarify was difficult. The child would have to speak if the ghost king demanded he do so. This division, this abnormality would not be tolerated. Not when Pariah’s control rested on knowing how to twist and manipulate the ‘self’ so completely that even the conscious mind would fall in line no matter how much the servant detested the tyrant.

If this child had another self, another place that stored his wants and feelings, maybe his absurd boast could be more than that. “Something like that. Do you remember having something like that before Pariah? When you still had that other name, had those friends you mentioned?”

Phantom untangled himself a little at the question, pain clear in his averted eyes and clenched teeth. “Only when I was alive.”

That didn’t make sense. He had assumed the child had been exaggerating, or simply couldn’t remember thanks to the Tyrant deciding Phantom should be a potential successor. Throwing an old life away to better suit the king certainly wouldn’t be the worst that monster had done. “You were never a ghost before Pariah?”

“Not completely? I was kinda both human and ghost at the same time. Not that I can prove it anymore.” Phantom frowned. “Why do you care anyway? You were mad at me, like, a few seconds ago. Because I can’t help anyone.”

“It was not anger at you. It was anger at what had been done to you, fate pushed on you.” A small fib, considering his assumption the child was acting at first. With him this close, heart so open, it was much easier to know all his childlike actions were just natural ones. “Would you mind waiting a moment while I fetch a tool to help you hear what I am hearing? Just to see if it is familiar to how you felt when you still lived.”

“Sure?” Another pause as the smaller ghost pulled the blanket closer around himself. “You aren’t um. Going to get something to hurt me, or something, right?”

“No, no. If I meant you harm, I would not need extra assistance.” Not that the child had to know how close he had been to finding that out in a very final matter. Still, a little more caution on his part would not be misplaced.

Though he can hardly chide about caution, knowingly leaving one of Pariah’s servants unattended for any length of time. He was fairly sure it was safe, considering how little the boy seemed to know, how freshly dead and innocent the tyrant had chosen to leave him. Frostbite did make sure to look back at least twice, just in case there was some buried order to make the child into an attacking monster when ‘left alone’.

Phantom was still wrapped up in the blanket when he returned with the stethoscope, and barely looked like he’d moved even an inch. It was almost as if the Realms itself was laughing at his paranoia. This little wisp of a boy being a wild danger? Yet appearances could be deceiving. If only he knew why Pariah had chosen this child of all ghosts to be an heir after refusing so many others. Perhaps the strange second sound was related.

“I only need to press this against you; there’s no sharp edges or poking, see?”

Instead of looking reassured, Phantom scowled and crossed his arms. “I know what a stethoscope is, I’m not five.”

“Then that makes things easier. Not all ghosts would know how this works.” Perhaps Phantom was under the impression all ghosts had once been human. Frostbite moved slowly, to appear less frightening and the boy didn’t try to jerk away at the gentle pressure on his chest.

He sounded like a healthy ghost. Loud, expressive, a tangled weave of feelings and the thoughts chained to them. A full spectrum of them ready to be drawn on at need. That wasn’t why Frostbite wanted to listen though. Instead he focused on the strange thumping nothingness burbling below the energetic emotions. It was even clearer with the aid. Even less keen ears should be able to hear how out of place it was. “Here, you should be able to hear it.”

Phantom took the stethoscope, but hesitated at actually putting part of it near his ears. Frostbite had to suppress a chuckle. The once living and their strange ideas that a body should be constantly making a mess was always amusing.

“Is it meant to be this noisy?” He winced, pulling away only moments after finally placing the ear tips correctly.

“In a healthy ghost, yes. I did tell you that was the most important part of you. It sings and speaks of your emotions and more. Try closing your eyes and focusing.”

Phantom kept frowning, but gingerly put it back on correctly and shut his eyes. The way his brow creased showed he was still having trouble, or was somewhat confused, but Frostbite could wait. If the boy had never heard his true ‘self’ as a ghost before, all the more reason he should try now. Perhaps he could hear the wrongness Pariah twisted into him as well as the strange emotionless thud.

“Is that my heartbeat? I couldn’t feel that anymore.” Green eyes begged for a positive answer, even as his fingers curled even tighter into the blanket. “Ghosts…don’t usually have this?” Phantom moved one of his hands, pressing it against his chest as if he expected to feel the sound though all of his ectoplasm.

“Not without an associated emotion or thought, no. An empty thud like that has no place in a ghost. You can hear me, if you like.” Frostbite adjusted his cloak slightly as he scooped Phantom back off of the pillow. There was no reason to hide the want to protect, to care for that would be the loudest cries that an untrained ear could understand.

He hesitated, but listened again as Frostbite moved the stethoscope. “You sound…warm? But you’re covered in ice?”

“Of course. We’re all complicated, and you’re only hearing the surface. With practice you could understand how everything connects, but you are young. You can hear how there is no sound without accompaniment though, correct?” Frostbite gently took the tool away, watching how the child mulled it over.

Phantom pressed his hand against his wrist, waiting and frowning after a few seconds. “I don’t feel it at all. If I could hear my heart, I should be able to feel it.”

“You said you were both human and ghost at once before. What would happen if you were badly injured?”

“I’d turn human again? Pass out sometimes?” Phantom said, still distracted by trying to ‘feel’ the sound in his body.

Frostbite could only hope his small theory might be correct. “What if that human side of yours was hurt?”

“I don’t know? Ghosts didn’t usually bug me when I was human.”

“Pariah told you that you had died fully, correct?”

“He sort of implied it, yeah.” Phantom bit his lip, uncomfortable again. “I haven’t been able to be human either. Even when I kept trying.”

“Well, Pariah likely hopes he killed you completely, yet you are an odd sort of ghost. Being both human and a ghost seems to be your natural state.”

“Or was.”

“Pariah might have spared you from death, but he may have underestimated you.” Frostbite said, giving him a gentle pat. “That sound, your ‘heart’, might be a hint towards that. You were horribly injured before he ‘saved’ you, I assume.”

“I think so? I was just afraid and heard his voice—I- I didn’t want to die.”

“Shh. Of course you didn’t.” The hug was easy to give, to help steady the shaking child. “So you are recovering, and he has kept you in the Infinite Realms. It makes sense that your ghost half would recover first, so you could move and act again even if not back to ‘normal’.”

“Do you really think I might get it back?” His question was low and cautious, as if he feared the answer. “That I’m not really dead?”

“I cannot say for sure, but I know ectoplasm can alter living creatures. The possibility of becoming a mixture of both is not that strange. It also explains how you can manage to survive with an empty sound in your very being.” It would be wrong to promise something he could not guarantee, but it felt like the most likely option. Phantom didn’t have a reason to make up something as strange as being human and ghost at the same time.

“Will it help? I don’t want to just…turn into what my father wants.” Phantom winced at the ‘slip’, a frustrated groan escaping him

“Pariah may have you under his control as a ghost, but perhaps if you have time to recover completely you can leverage that humanity against his commands. It is clearly separate and distinct from his meddling.”

“You really think so? I could stop him from breaking promises?”

“Remember, he did best you. It is still likely he could overpower you and put you ‘back in line.’” Frostbite said, even as Phantom sagged a little at the lack of good news. “If you are careful, you might be able to relearn how to lie to him.”

“What’s that good for? Who cares about lying?”

“Listen, Phantom. Pariah has no reason to ever think anything you say is false. As far as he is aware, you cannot lie. You cannot hide things from him. Do you understand what that means?”

The boy’s brow creased as he thought about it. “He’d have no idea if my friends were planning something? If I wasn’t…destroying their stuff anymore?”

Frostbite smiled, nodding to encourage him. “Exactly. If you really do not want to harm people, you could simply lie. As far as he knows, it will be the truth. Unless you do something foolish, like lie about something he can easily check.”

“Okay. I’ll figure it out. Thanks.” Phantom started fidgeting, his dull glow brightening as he looked around. “So um. We didn’t actually meet yet, right? I went somewhere else.”

“Well little one, if you say you went to check on your friends, it would not be a lie.” The more he helped this young one, the better chance they all had. “Just keep light on the details, and you’ll be fine.”

Phantom finally smiled at that, a full one showing his teeth. “Thanks, Frostbite. I kinda really need friends right now.”

“I can only hope you reunite with the others you might have lost soon. Be careful out there—most ghosts in my position would not have let you leave.”

He frowned and half covered his left eye, nodding. “Maybe you can explain to other ghosts? That I’m not like him?”

Frostbite chuckled, though it was bitter on his tongue. “Perhaps, but most would call me a fool for giving you that chance. Or say I only ‘fell’ for it because you are so young. Again, practice caution and keep your head down. You do not know how long it will take for you to heal.”

Phantom nodded once before giving the yeti one final hug. It was quick; he backed away after only a few seconds as if embarrassed and gave a small wave before darting back out into the cold.

It might be a mistake in the end, a foolish moment of weakness and hope, but it felt much better inside. He did not have to be a murderer this day, and he might have helped save the young one. For now he would have to focus on his duties and prepare the others for war. Phantom may not mean harm, but Pariah could not be far behind.

#dp #Danny Phantom #invisobang 2022 #Frostbite #Pariah Wins AU #it was fun!#It's just the oneshot but I hope you enjoy it

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