#it does mean he can travel along wires without needing to drag behind a wet blanket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatudottu · 10 months

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Me thinking about electrical compression and aliens again has led me to think about another repeat biology subject of the amperi, and how I can explain wire travel in a (still fictional) logical way- find out next now how that turns out!

You know, after I have posted multiple other stuff between this being completed and this actually being posted-

One thing that I tend to do when considering amperi biology is that they need to be a little moist (apologies for the word) in order to breathe, but to take more inspiration from jellyfish - surprisingly the actual inspiration for amperi (probably because you couldn’t exactly design constantly transparent characters in animated tv) - and say that physically a lot of their main body is made from this moisture. Unlike jellyfish it’s not quite water, rather it’s a conductive fluid that actually contains a lot of electrochemical signals akin to a nervous system. This in particular is a biological reason why emotion reading is part of amperi languages - communication is done through the excretion and dispersal of this nervous system in water - and why the now ‘surrounded by emotion chemicals’ Ra’ad due to his undiscovered psychometry mutation was constantly overwhelmed, overstimulated, and overcome with anxiety.

And it’s this excretion that actually plays a language role too, essentially being practically REQUIRED in communication especially with how in water it spreads out. A reason why in the air amperi are a little damp is because excretion is a constant (but consistent) autonomic function, like conductive sweat that contains so many messages, though in surface environments it does make communication difficult. Partly the reason why Ra’ad finds himself preferring land, even if either way he’d still need to wear some damp robes when a dry season hits; it beats having to wear one everytime in the ocean with the cultural equivalent connotation of constantly wearing a balaclava though-

And all this ‘filled with goo’ stuff doesn’t mean that amperi have a true main body under their skin (that’s for @ohyeahben10 ‘s Ultimate Ampfibian) but it DOES mean that if an amperi were to perhaps compress themselves to a smaller ‘fit through the neck of a bottle’ size, they build up a charge and in fact begin to conduct electricity. It’s an adaptation for both offence and defence, either being used in constricting tentacles to electrocute prey and victims through excretion and consequent conduction of their electrochemical gel or - a way we will explore in depth next - electrifying predators and assailants using complete compression and slipping between teeth, gills, blowholes, and/or grasp, leaving a trail of ‘lightning’ in escape.

That’s right baby I’ve finally figured out how to logic my way around wire walking!

I’ve mentioned a few times that I think amperi have a bone in them, often referring to he more literal bone like structure in cuttlefish rather than the flexible structure inside of a squid called a gladius or pen, the squid of course being the basis of my ‘this exists in real biology’ inspiration. In fact, perhaps this gladius will serve to fit much better with the amperi, as it’s role in Earth squids is to serve as protection of visceral organs and an attachment for very important muscle groups; I say, grinning into the camera as if I were a villain thinking of something dastardly.

With this gladius, not only does it serve as a base for the important muscle groups of compression - a complicated dynamic of contracting muscles to reduce size and expanding pores to excrete the mucus they adapted for - but in amongst the visceral organs (from a list of few includes the very important heart) there is a very valued organ that in fact produces its conductive gel, sitting nice and comfortable against the brain where these electrochemical signals translate into commands ether somatic or autonomic. As the muscles contract using the gladius as it’s base it in fact squeezes the perfectly placed organ that disperses this electrochemical as if along a highly distributed nervous system and in fact carries with it charge, charge that conducts to whatever purpose the amperi compresses with.

It is that same conductivity that amperi naturally are that allows them wire and cable transportation, since it is a high energy mode of travel for a significantly reduced body size. In a great grand ocean of vast expanses it’s less effective than the semi-compression of weaponry and desperate compression of ‘please don’t eat me’, or the less desperate semi-compression of electric inking; too much energy for too little time, it’s like trying to sprint across the country.

But in areas with a denser population with specific infrastructure built as the amperi equivalent for public transportation or perhaps at a more basic level a bike lane, literal cable travel is developed around the idea of being high energy fast travelling short distance trips. In ocean cities or towns in close proximity to them, think like if internet cables along the ocean floor were filled with people going to work or school or just going out for lunch. On the land where a lot of the metalworking is literally landlocked to be in as dry of air as it can in order to smith, there are powerlines that provide local traffic for any surface towns or workplaces, but you also get a few more uh trespassers along the lines because a not insignificant number of people live on the surface as hermits away from the ocean and many lines are mainly for transit companies.

From personal experience of accidentally walking through my local transit worksite (fuck you google maps) finding that I’m on the wrong side of a tollgate, sometimes where you need or want to go, the fastest route just so happens to be through the company lines.

On Earth, because the only reason we have internet cables and powerlines is because we use them as - well - powerlines and internet cables, it’s not as if an amperi runaway who’s lost and afraid far from whatever he might’ve called familiar if not quite the home he wanted it to be has any real societal understanding that Earth is the American transportation system of Tesslos, Ra’ad just takes the lines and is internally horrified that they lead directly into houses on occasion.

And I think that’s it for wire walking lmao- this was meant to be posted after I rambles about petrosapien nervous systems but yeet yeet!

#amperi #ra’ad #technically only here to contrast and explain the mutants and magic complications of overstimulation #ben 10 #xenobiology #i mentioned ‘damp robes’ here- essentially they’re there to kinda soak up the excretion and use it as a coolant and moisturiser on land #surface workers have damp robe ppe and uniforms (depending on their jobs; smithies have to be VERY damp)#and surface hermits tend to wear or not wear robes depending on the weather #aggregor happened to snatch ra’ad in the middle of the wet season or in a marsh or something #either way- ra’ad got yanked away from damp weather and shunted in various dry environments #probably the only reason ra’ad didn’t shrivel was because he was so used to ‘not expressing’#aka he has does his best to ‘recycle’ his own goo by just kinda *splat* patting himself down #it does mean he can travel along wires without needing to drag behind a wet blanket

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fayeimara · 3 years

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Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

5. Thank Some Gods

You end up in Hyogo for a real hot minute over your winter break, thanks to your cousins Akira and Akari who decided to drag you along when they were forced to visit with their mom and older brother. Being a year older then them and already a seasoned solo traveller, the parents all thought you'd be a great chaperone. Woohoo, yay you.

Truth be told, you love spending time with them and you're really happy to be able to see your aunt and other cousin, their brother Kazuya, that you'd missed over the summer, as well. Although you did have to apologize to Tobio and his family because when you'd promised you would stay with them next, you should have specified you meant next time you were in Miyagi. Not Japan in general. You think they were just taking the piss though.

Oh right, your vulgar new phrases are courtesy of Akira, thank her very much. Spend a few minutes in the twins' company and you end up talking like them, or whatever their west coast academy friends are currently teaching them, at least. Akari has a valley girl phase going and you think Akira is gearing up for a Tarantino-inspired life. Can't see how your family is let that going to happen, but it's not your job to tell him that.

"Y/nnn, did you try this dango!" Akira runs right into you, appearing from the crowd of people on the festive street of the shopping district you're in, and locks her free arm around yours while waving a stick with round balls on it in other other hand.

"No, but I waited 10 minutes standing still in the cold and crowd so you can bet that I will. Half of that is already mine."

"Hmph," She scoffs, "No one told you to stand still and wait around, silly."

You give her an exasperated look, "You literally said, 'stay there a minute, I'm grabbing us some sweets!' and bounced off."

"Okay, okay, chill your roll, girl."

"Not sure that's a saying, girl."

"Maybe not at the snooty east side preps."

"Yo." Akira appears on your other side. "Half that's mine."

"A third. Or none at all." Akari sticks her tongue out at her twin.

He looks over at you and you nod, twisting quickly so you can grab and hold her occupied arm still while he plucks the dango from her hand.

"Hey! Looks like it's none at all!"

"No. Looks like it's half mine, half Y/n's." He bites off one of the chewy balls (okay, we all know how that sounds.. slow your roll, girl) before holding the stick in front of your face so you can grab one too. Oh wow. It is good. Why did you wait so long to try it? So many years wasted without enjoying this sweet texture.

You can see your third cousin approaching, holding onto a tray of steaming drinks, as you chew over your thoughts on the delicious dessert (see what you did there?).

"I got your coffee", he holds the tray between us so I can grab one of the cups with my free hand, but like.. Kazuya, which one is it?

"Kazuuu, they're bullying me!" Akari pouts for sympathy only for Akira to fire back almost before she reaches the last word.

"She bullied me first!"

Instead of responding to either, he rolls his eyes at their bickering but they're only having fun. You've never met siblings that have each other's backs more than these two. You think Kazuya misses it too, having decided to study in Japan and live with his mom who consequently chose to work here, while the other two live with their dad - but really at a boarding school - back on the American west coast.

"Whatever, are you grabbing your drinks or what?"

Akari only smiles at her older brother's deadpan expression, "Which one is my hot chocolate, niichan?"

"Please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

But it's Akira who answers with a snicker, "Because you don't even go here, brat. It's cringy coming from you."

"Shut up, ugly clone."

"That's literally impossible unless you're calling yourself ugly too."

Okay, you're just going to go for the cup closest to you on your left. You pick it up and sip slowly... success. The sweet, warm flavour of your white chocolate mocha slides down your throat.

Kazu is giving you an arch look now, he knows how much you live for coffee but he's still going to say something about it, right? "You know it's already dark out, I don't know how you can drink this stuff so late. Don't you want to get some sleep tonight?"

"Bold of you to assume I need sleep." You smirk at him over the rim of your cup while Akari makes an attempt at snatching the remaining dango back from her brother around you. Please don't make me spill.

"Nah, I just assume you're a robot and this is your regular maintenance or something."

You consider his words before shrugging, nothing too mean that you can call him out on, you guess. "Down the hatch then."

"Sure thing, but I'm not staying up late bingeing your crappy shows with you when you're wired."

"But you'll binge a non-crappy show?"

"Maybe."

Another smile for your favourite cousin of the minute. He did get you coffee, you know. Akari's managed to grab the third sweet off the stick with her mouth like some rabid animal, but it makes sense because the hand not still holding onto you is holding back Akari's arm. They're going to smac-

And they hit the tray that Kazu was only just holding. He somehow manages to grab one of the drinks you assume is his out of it's spot while avoiding the wreckage spill of the other two cups. He didn't even try to hold on to it, which is partly why you're laughing as both twins start simultaneously apologizing and complaining about their spilled drinks.

Kazuya's deadpan expression is actually pretty communicative for the the moment, "I'm not going back for another, this is on you guys."

"Kazu, do you like being mean to us?" They actually ask this at the same time but Kazu's not even phased.

"Yes, I want you to suffer." He's dry as ever.

You chuckle but they're so sweet, most of the time, so you'll make it up for them, "I passed a stall selling hot chocolate, since we don't need to replace my specialty coffee, I can go there to get you some."

"Me too?" Akira asks hopefully.

"Yes, you too, puppy."

He rolls his eyes, trying to adjust his expression back into an uncaring one. It's more natural on his brother currently, but you can definitely see him grow into a more serious demeanour someday.

"I'll come with you while these two stay put." Kazu gives his younger siblings a stern look.

"No need," You wave him off, grabbing the stick with the last piece of dango and handing it to him, "Enjoy this as repayment from us all for making you go all the way back into the mall for our drinks. In the meantime, I'll be right back."

"Hold on, you're going to the one next to the onigiri stand, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, straight there and back in fifteen minutes or I'll come find you. And if I have to worry, I won't be happy."

"Okay niisan." You roll your eyes with your sarcastic tone. Older brothers. No wonder he and your brother Raiden get along so well, they're under some misassumption that their younger siblings just can't help getting into trouble, as if you all only live to annoy them. And he was doing so well as your favourite cousin for the time being.

You stroll away from the benches you were waiting at by the end of the street where the outdoor stalls meet the main street shopping mall and melt back into the crowd. This festival really is something, so brightly lit with pretty twinkling lights strung up everywhere and curled around any available post like glowing, warm yellow vines. You absolutely love the vibe but you know you're on a time crunch.

You notice the onigiri stand just ahead of the drink stall and debate for a quick second before stopping in the surprisingly short line up. A piece each of sweet dessert does not a stomach fill. Unfortunately, just as you take a sip of your coffee, someone bumps into you from behind, causing it to spill over your lips and dribble down your chin but you adjust enough in time, holding the cup out and away from you, so that you're not covered in any more than that and the little bit on your hand.

You hate wet clothing with a passion, especially when it's cold outside and it clings to you with that awful chilly, sticky feel. Not so bad when it's on your coat, but on principle, that's just as unpleasant if you run the cuff of your sleeve over it or it get on the collar and then you have the tiniest bit of discomfort right by sensitive skin and that makes it all the more glaring.

You realize the person who bumped into you also reached out to steady you at the same time and is now speaking, "Shit, I'm so sorry."

It's a little quiet but you make out his apology through his thick dialect. Hm, you think that's where the odd changes in Kazu and his mom's speech are coming from, a regional osmosis of accents?

"No worries, it's pretty crowded." You only half turn while you search your pockets for a tissue or napkin, spotting a flash of grey in your peripherals. Then an arm covered in that grey reaches out to hold a napkin in your field of view and you finally look up to see who it belongs too.

And now you're just staring. Hi there, I'd like hear your voice more. Preferably while you stare at his mouth move on his beautiful face. You can't believe he just had his hand on your waist, even if it was just for a split second and over layers of clothes, and you didn't get to appreciate it.

"It's not dirty." He shakes the napkin, you're assuming because he thankfully thought you were thinking that over instead of ogling him.

You chuckle, thinking how you definitely need to send thanks to some divine power on the new year for all the interactions with some serious eye candy these past six months, but out loud you say, "I really need to thank some gods out there, huh?"

What?

He gives you a confused look but you catch yourself and, before he can respond and question your sanity, quickly follow up with, "Or just you. For this. Thank you for the napkin."

"S'alright. Wasn't a big favour, really, just makin' up for my fault bumpin' into ya." You're not sorry he did, though? You can't tell what he's thinking, this guy is a closed book, folks. It's kind of jarring, since you consider yourself exceptional at reading people and acclimating to them.

You finally actually accept the napkin and wipe at your mouth and chin first, then your hand, responding, "At least you didn't make me drop the coffee or we would have had a real problem."

You think he realizes you're teasing because the corner of his mouth actually inches up the tiniest bit. You're not imagining, you swear it on your mocha!

"Coffee this late?"

"It's 11am somewhere."

"Ya wake up at 11am?" What an interesting thought process he has.

"Are you not on winter break? Or do you just assume your typical hours in every conversation no matter what day of the year it is?"

"Huh." You think he sounds thoughtful? Or was it just the word and you're associating it with how you use it..

"That's not an answer, but I'll take that to mean you go the typical route." You smile again because like you said, he's unreadable and you really don't want him to think you're being bitchy. You're really grateful for the napkin. And that face. So... yeah.

You're moving up, thankfully, because you thought you were blessed but this is just turning into what feels like an awkward encounter.

"I like sleepin' in, but sometimes I get too hungry so I'm up when my stomach is."

You look back at him in surprise, obviously because he bothered to continue a seemingly closed conversation, but that quickly turns into amusement and commiseration, "Oh I know! It's mostly coffee for me because not a lot of people bother to make breakfast in my house, but if I smell something delicious cooking, I forget I'm not a morning person."

He does smile fully then and it's beautiful. "Me too, but I'm usually the one doing the cookin'."

"Oh wow, that's dedication. I can respect but never reach that ideal." You hold your hand to your heart in a silly salute but also because he's still smiling and you're trying to tell your unreliable organ to be still. Not too still though, you're enjoying the moment and want to keep living it.

"Eh, I'm used to it."

"Well then, for once, let someone else take care of your food. I'll get your order for you."

"Seriously? It was just a napkin and my fault too.."

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it! Consider it a gift in essence of the festival!"

He doesn't say anything for a moment before, "I was going to try the different flavours. That's a lot."

"No way, that's awesome! I'll do that too, I don't even know what they have available, I just stopped here on a whim on my way there." You indicate the stand next to the one you're almost to the front of with a wave of your hand.

"Ahh.. if ya like, I can suggest some?"

You happily smile at him as you accept, "That would be great, thank you so much."

The two of you step up to the counter together and you listen while he orders. While you both wait for them to place each of your requests, he explains some of the fillings and why they work best depending on personal taste and even situation. You tell him about having just tried dango, sad about having realized you missed out so long, and he actually smiles widely at your exaggerated pained expression but also recommends some other desserts, including which shops to stop at in the city.

It's starting to snow as you two talk, which is not rare but still unusual for this region, but thankfully it's not much longer before you're each handed your containers and move aside. You look over to him and laugh when you realize this guy is already munching on one of the onigiris, your breath puffing out in a small cloud before you. "Which one is it?"

"Fatty tuna." He talks around it with his own little puffy cloud and it's pretty cute actually, instead of the usual cringe when people talk with their mouths full. Oh, the benefits of being good looking. Also, he's tilted his head down ever so slightly so it's almost polite in a perfected way.

"I'm just going to go ahead and assuming you're enjoying it."

He nods while swallowing and then makes some pretty intense eye contact while speaking way too seriously, "Thank you. This is amazing."

You smile, feeling like in the minutes the two of you were conversing, you've gotten a little more comfortable with the minute changes in his expressions. "You're welcome. I'm going to head over to the drink stall now, but it was nice to meet you!"

With a laugh as you walk away, you also add, "And thank you for sharing your knowledge with me, at least I'll know where to feed myself when I'm craving different things this week."

You're turning away as he seems to stand there watching you with some hesitation, but you can't do all the heavy lifting in a conversation when you're on a time limit, so you'll chalk this up to another fun run-in with a cute guy for the books.

You're lucky there's no line up, you're really short on your deadline and your fingers are getting pretty cold along with your coffee, so you pay for the hot chocolate, they pour, and you're back off towards the end of the street where your cousins are waiting.

You can't move too fast given the bag dangling from the wrist of the hand that's also carefully holding the tray of four hot chocolates, but the crowd is also thinning out a little now with the snow. Hopefully, if you're a couple minutes behind the expected time, the diverse and sheer amount of onigiri you have in the bag you're now holding, as well as the new round of warm drinks, will bring you forgiveness.

You finish up the last, cool dregs of your coffee just as you pass by a trash can, making the split decision to quickly reverse so you can toss your cup and free up a hand. As you execute your smooth move and then turn back, you unsurprisingly bump into someone yet again. Not so smooth then, you think, looking up.

It's deja vu and for a split second, you consider that he might actually be a weirdo and followed you, because stopping in your path as an apology drops from your lips is the guy you were only just talking to, same face, same dark hair, even same height... but with a different jacket on.

It takes you all of one more second to notice the small differences like the eye colour, the way the hair naturally parts, and the slightest difference in size, not to mention the more obvious difference in openness and personality literally exuding from this one. He's actually smiling wide right away with no provocation. So not a weirdo who changed his jacket and followed you.

Also, have you ever considered the odds of multiple sets of twins being in pretty much the same place at the same time?

"Oh, there's another one of you, huh?" You're talking again before he even has a chance to respond to your apology, but you guess you feel familiar thanks to your brief encounter with his twin. "That's unfair, don't you think?"

You step around him calling out, "Anyways, sorry about that. Enjoy your night." and walk away, back towards your own set of twins.

Ugh, Kazu's going to kill you. You won't be making it in time, for sure.

Miya Atsumu's POV

Atsumu turns to follow the stunning girl's progress as she moves around him and away, catching her last words but still more interested in her previous statement. 'There's another one of you, huh?'.

People have been confusing him and his twin for as long as they've been alive and only those that know them really well can only sometimes make out the difference.

It's no longer amusing, and actually irritating enough that he and 'Samu have been considering a little aesthetic change some time next year, maybe before their first year of high school.

'Tsumu knows it's his brother without looking when someone walks up to his left side from behind him. What he's surprised by is his first words, "She think you were me? I was talkin' to her a bit at the stall."

When he glances over, he notices 'Samu staring after her as well, with a lot more interest than simple, piqued curiosity. Does he know her?

"No.." He contemplates her words again before sharing with his brother, "She said 'There's another one of you, huh? That's unfair, don't you think?' and then walked away."

He can feel 'Samu looking over at him curiously, "Did ya talk to her?"

Why is he asking? He hasn't even picked up a new onigiri from the open box in his hand. "I just bumped into her. Didn't even say a word. Do ya know her?"

"Like I said, I only just met her." Pausing, 'Samu seems to think it over before adding, "We only talked a few minutes, maybe."

The twins are silent for another couple moments, while the snow continues to drift around them. The girl is long gone, swallowed up by the crowd at this point, but they keep staring at where they last saw her retreating figure, each in their own intrigued thoughts.

Finally, 'Samu's the one who breaks the silence, "Do ya believe in coincidences, 'Tsumu?"

"No, 'Samu, ya know I don't."

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Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Tee was called out in the first thread because he doesn't use emojis often, especially not the half assed ones he used for a scenario like that so... caught slipping lmao (aw he does care about Y/n <3 Maybe more than he should?)

-Y/n was NOT expecting to get called out like that for saying she likes Oikawa when she'd literally just called him her friend... Iwa, you slick wingman ;) <3 He might bully the shit out of Oikawa (to keep him in check though) but he really is his best friend :')

-Ushi says what he means and means what he says lol, yeah, he wasn't really surprised

-Y/n's friends aren't all necessarily happy about this development; they've been aware of her various interactions as they usually are (some more than others) but... they're getting older and, well, all not sharing as much with each other as they once did

-But they're still going to call her out and roast her because they're her best friends lmao who else will? They have to keep her in check too loool

-Oikawa's last reply... <33 Take it how you will :D

-And Shin just dropping in to screenshot his cousin's embarrassing moments, hoping for a dirty delete so he can roast her all over again for the same crime lmao, probably shouldn't have warned her though... whoops

-I HC the Miyas' hair dyeing happening at/around their first year of HS, anyone know any different? It was only Osamu's jacket that was grey in Y/n's peripherals, just a little tease for us all ;)

A/N: Guys, I'm really, really sorry about the Miyas' 'accent'... you might see a couple different attempts in there but I had to edit a lot of what I tried out because it sounded just awful however I was originally trying to write it earlier. If you guys do have any suggestions, I'm very much all hears (and eyes lol - heart eyes specifically because I've seen some write them incredibly well!).

That aside, I hope you all enjoyed this one, I loved writing it so much, it just flowed once I started and I love the Miya twins, each in their own way <33 I've been dying to introduce them and the other 'main' characters but there's definitely going to be a difference in the weight of interactions Y/n has for a while. It's not favoritism, I promise; Y/n's time spent with various characters is just going to be uneven at various points due to the natural progression of her story :') but I plan for it all to even out as we move along the years (:

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot

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essektheylyss · 4 years

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uhhhh just some random shadowgast h/c that possessed me at 2am that got way too long, enjoy; content warnings for (cleaning) wounds and also talk of death

The hiss leaks, long and slow, from between Caleb’s teeth, and Essek can't bring himself to pity the human.

"You're too fucking old for this," Essek snarls, and Caleb shrugs, wincing again when the muscles in his shoulders contract, pulling against the burns along his back. "And there is no one here to heal this. You couldn't have teleported to, I don't know, Fjord? Jester?"

"And miss giving you this opportunity to lecture me?" Caleb retorts wearily, but he leans back into Essek's hands, and neither of them can hide the tremble in their limbs.

"You're lucky I still have a few healing potions tucked away."

"I'm not lucky. I knew you would be able to fix me up."

Essek wrings the wet cloth into a basin, and growls against his sleeves slipping down his arms. Draping the cloth over the basin's edge, he rips the shirt over his head and lets it fall to the ground beside them.

"You put perhaps too much faith in my medicinal ability."

Caleb twists, ignoring the way his bare skin pulls taut against burns that are only now starting to look less than fresh. "I have faith that you will care for me. I do not think that faith is misguided."

He leans over and presses a soft kiss to Essek's bare shoulder, then his collarbone, and the base of his neck. A shiver runs up Essek's spine, and he leans into the kisses, resting the hollow of his cheek on the crown of Caleb's head, burying his fingers in his loose red hair. "Then why didn't you tell me where you were going?" Essek has never been one to be distracted by temptation, and he pulls away, though his hands linger. With one of them, he picks up a clean towel, dipping it in warm water and pressing it to Caleb's neck. "Why did you not ask me to join you?"

Caleb's eyes drift closed. "If we were both to perish— No, no. The school would be left on its own. It needs—"

"It needs you," Essek murmured, and circled the chair to rest against the edge of the washbasin. "If something like this comes up again, I go."

"No." Caleb slouched forward, resting his elbows on his knees, ignoring the water and blood that dampens the legs of his trousers where his arms rest. "No."

"My dear," Essek breathes, and presses one hand to Caleb's jaw. It is hard to speak about, but if it will also remind Caleb what this means for him, then he will remind himself. "I will have to bury you one day. Do not presume to choose when that day comes."

Caleb laughs, but Essek pinches his chin and forces him to look into his eyes.

"I will employ Jester to drag you back from the dead without a second thought."

"An old man like me? That sounds like a splendid waste of money."

It pains him to see how the lines at Caleb's eyes have deepened, though he knows the arcane lights he's created make them look harsher than normal now.

"Forgive my outburst. You are not that old."

"You said it yourself. You will have to bury me one day. I don't..." he rocks forward, and Essek has to kneel to meet his eyes now, "I don't want you to also shoulder the burden of... watching it happen."

For a split second, Essek considers killing Caleb on the spot, just to teach him a lesson. At 25,000 gold pieces, though, it is a rather expensive lesson, and instead he rests his forehead in Caleb's palms and grips his wrists, shuddering out a sigh.

"So instead you will let me watch you put your own body on a pyre?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Fuck you. Fuck you and your self-destructive, self-pitying bullshit. Fuck you for making the choice for me."

"It sounds like someone has been listening to Fjord."

"Yes, and the gods know one of us needed to."

Caleb chuckles, and the rumble of it vibrates through his hands.

"Okay. I tell you when someone approaches me with, ah, an assignment. I will get some kind of backup. One of us needs to stay with the school."

"Gods damn the school," Essek snaps. He has grown to enjoy teaching, and his role here, and occasionally the students don't get on his nerves. But he would be lying to claim he was not here, first and foremost, for Caleb. And he will maintain it after Caleb's death, because he cannot fathom doing otherwise, but that will not be for decades yet. He will make sure of it. "I go where you go."

Where his fingers grip Caleb's scarred wrist, he coils a wire, and murmurs an incantation in undercommon. A cord of light snakes around both of their arms, pulling taut, and he can feel the magic take hold. He can feel, like a phantom, the hint of the ache under Caleb's skin from the burns.

"This is, surprisingly, the less expensive option I considered for teaching you a lesson tonight." He looks up at Caleb. The expression that meets him would've been unreadable to him not quite so long ago, but now he can see it plainly—Caleb's surprise at being cared for, even now. "The other option was a resurrection."

"Jester would not appreciate being woken up," Caleb mutters, and Essek laughs.

"I believe Jester is owed a few late night calls."

"You're probably right."

"I love you," Essek breathes, and when he cradles Caleb's face in his hands, presses their brows together, all of his fears rage over him like a wildfire, leaving behind only the nagging desperation of a loss he knows will sting him eventually, barely restrained by the pulse of his heart as he meets Caleb's eyes.

"I know you do."

"Will you continue to allow me to?"

Caleb nods and closes his eyes, his nose brushing across Essek's. "Until the day I die."

"A long, long time from now."

"The blink of an eye for you, I'm afraid."

"It will be enough."

"Has anything ever been enough for you?"

"You," Essek murmurs, and his fingers grip Caleb's arm—warm, skin worn by time and travel, pulse pounding in his muscles, alive, alive, alive—so tightly that he fears he might cut off circulation, but he can't let go. His hands will shake if he does. "You have always been enough for me. Don't send me out to search for something to fill that hole before I must."

"I won't. I am sorry, for worrying you."

"Yes, having my partner arrive in our home with the shirt literally burned from his back in the middle of the night is not my favorite distraction."

Caleb smiles, and leans forward, pressing his lips to Essek's. "Hmm, then perhaps I can think of a better one next time."

Essek smirks into his kiss and pulls them both to their feet. "You think your wounds will be alright?"

"Ah, for now," Caleb winces, his shoulders tightening against the full pain that throbs when he moves. Essek can feel it spike, and with barely a thought he lifts them both off the floor, drifting toward the bedroom. It will be a mercy to rest, knowing that Caleb is here and out of immediate danger. "In any case I will be sleeping on my stomach."

#cr fic #shadowgast #I need to be stopppppped #what is this? does it have any point? no #oh well it's soft and that's what matters #(I say in spite of the fact that it's really fucking angsty)

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amillionsmiles · 5 years

Text

dizzy on the comedown (Keith/Pidge)

Title: dizzy on the comedown Summary: But it was molting season: time to trade the old feathers for new wings. / Keith, Katie, and the light of a small town moon. A/N: Written for the @kidgezine!

Read and review here or continue under the cut.

o.O.o

At this point in his life, Keith had two things going for him. Graduation, and—

Okay, well. Maybe just the one.

Above Mrs. Finkle’s head, the clock crept at a snail’s pace. Time moved slowly enough in Arus already—call it the universal law of small towns—but detention, Keith hypothesized, was where it froze in cryogenic sleep. If not for the one other student sitting two rows behind him and to the left, Keith could have convinced himself he was in bed at home, dreaming.

That was how most days felt, in the midst of senior spring. Like he could just float in and out of them until summer, when he’d be gone for good. As far as cities went, Altea hardly had the glitz and glamor of somewhere like New York, but its population of 100,000 was massive compared to Arus’s 1,800, and for that, Keith couldn’t wait.

In the meantime, though, he saved up his money and cut class. Which had been working just fine until he’d dropped by to grab an assignment and Iverson had spotted him, hightailed it down the corridor, and grabbed Keith by the scruff of his jean jacket before he could get away.

Dragging his attention away from the minute hand, Keith went back to fiddling with the radio on his desk. It was his mom’s, a vintage dark beige beauty that had started glitching last week. Despite not being much of a repairman, Keith hoped to fix it in time for her birthday this weekend. Mrs. Finkle ignored him, tongue darting out to wet her finger as she flipped another page of her book.

Keith messed with a wire and turned the dial. Nothing but static at first, but slowly the faint strains of music overcame the crackle. Keith smiled, stopping short when a ball of paper hit the back of his head.

He turned around. His detention-mate stared back at him with a steady gaze, hazelnut brown hair bundled in two messy braids. Katie Holt, sophomore. One older brother, Matt, who’d graduated last year. Her dad was an astrophysics professor while her mom bounced between running the local library and volunteering at the observatory up in the hills. Keith knew all these facts through no extra effort of his own, the same way everyone knew that his dad had died putting out the fire on Mr. McComb’s farm back in 2008.

What he didn’t know was why Katie was in detention. She didn’t exactly seem like the rabble-rousing type. Then again, maybe the fact that she looked so unassuming was exactly what made her trouble.

Impatiently, Katie jerked her head toward the crumpled ball behind him. Frowning, Keith swiveled in his chair and scooped it up, flattening it on his desk.

Nice, read the note.

Meaning the radio, probably. He glanced back at Katie and raised a single eyebrow in acknowledgement. At the front of the classroom, Mrs. Finkle’s chair scraped backwards as she stood up.

Though it took 30 seconds for her to leave the room and turn the corner toward the bathrooms, it felt like a year. Once she’d left, Keith put the radio in his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. He didn’t know Katie well enough to say anything meaningful out loud, but he granted her a brief nod of acknowledgement before turning his back.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” He poked his head out into the hallway to make sure no one was around. The agreement with Mrs. Finkle was simple: as long as nobody saw him busting out, she could plead innocence, and they could both move on with their respective afternoons.

“Isn’t skipping detention just going to get you… more detention?”

At that, Keith turned to lean against the doorframe. Katie had moved to stand beside him, hands curled around the straps of her backpack.

“Trust me, I do it all the time.”

“In that case...” Katie tilted her head. “Lead the way.”

Katie Holt had a bossy streak, apparently. Without further conversation, Keith started down the hallway.

“Do you have some sort of secret arrangement with Mrs. Finkle?” asked Katie, hot on his heels.

“No, she just doesn’t care. I got top marks on all the state evals, and I pretty much carry the class average.” Keith didn’t say it to brag; he’d overheard Mrs. Finkle use the exact same reasoning in an argument with Iverson once. “Besides, detention wastes her time just as much as it wastes ours— hey. ”

Katie had grabbed his forearm, yanking him to the right.

“Coach Sendak always gets his coffee in the break room around this time,” she hissed. “I thought you said you did this a lot.”

“No need to be critical,” grumbled Keith.

They’d finally reached the parking lot. His red pickup truck, shabby as it was, beckoned like a jewel. Before he could head in its direction, though, he made the mistake of glancing over at Katie. She looked on the brink of asking him something, the determination on her face surprisingly imposing considering her stature.

Exhaling, Keith ran a hand through his hair. “What?”

Just as quickly, Katie’s expression transitioned to innocence. “What?”

He leveled her with a look that read, clearly: I don't have time for this. “What are you about to ask?”

She shifted. “I need a ride home. 23rd and Walnut.”

“That’s four traffic lights past Greasy Sal’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“All right, fine.” Keith gestured for her to walk with him. At his truck, he pulled open the driver’s door, tossing his bag into the backseat. “Get in.”

o.O.o

“Dammit.” For the third time, Katie jiggled the door handle, rapping on the door. “Nobody’s home.”

“Window?” suggested Keith.

Katie shot him a flat look. “I’m not breaking into my own house.”

“Okay, then…” Keith crossed his arms. The Holts’ porch was small, painted gray while the rest of the house was white. A bristly brown welcome mat printed with a cactus laid in front of the screen door; cacti seemed to be a recurring motif, if the several growing in the yard were anything to go by.

He took a deep breath.

“Listen, I’ve got a paper route that starts in fifteen minutes. So either you stay here, or you come with. But I’m leaving.”

“Gee, you’re really selling the appeal of your company,” said Katie. “I’m in.”

It took Keith a second to process, during which Katie sailed past him and back to his car. “You’re—what?”

“I’m in.” Opening the passenger side door, she clambered inside. “Come on—I don’t want to be blamed for you being late.”

o.O.o

As far as newspapers went, the Arus Gazette would hardly win any awards for its journalism. But much like playing in the Little League or driving to nearby Olkari Springs for Labor Day Weekend, subscription to it was time-honored tradition, a given if you’d grown up in town.

“How long does it usually take you to deliver all these?” Katie asked, pushing aside a newspaper tube that had encroached on the space between them.

“Two hours. If you’re trying to get homework done, you could probably just use the dashboard as a desk.”

Shaking her head, Katie leaned back in the seat. “Nah, I get carsick.”

“Suit yourself,” answered Keith, just as the traffic light ahead of them blinked sleepily from yellow to red. The foot he put down on the brake pedal felt like a dampener on the mood in the car; in the silence, Katie turned away from him to stare out the window, her fingers laced in her lap. It was weird. Usually, Keith cared little about forcing conversation. He hadn’t promised he’d entertain her for tagging along on his errand run. Still…

“How’d you get thrown in detention?”

Katie turned toward him, blinking in surprise. “You really want to know?”

Keith shrugged. “Might as well.”

“Hm.” The seatbelt shifted as Katie wriggled around to face him fully. “You know Lance, right?”

“Yeah.” Former Little League rival and youngest child of the McClains, who ran the only Cuban restaurant in town. “What about him?”

“So, basically I rigged the water fountain outside Mrs. Sanda’s classroom to spray in his face, which didn’t go over so well because—” Here, she adopted a high-pitched, nasal tone, “—‘we’re in the middle of a drought!’”

Keith cracked a smile. “Was it worth it?”

“100%. So what’s your deal? Is all the delinquency just a bad case of senioritis?”

“Detention doesn’t make me a delinquent.”

“At its broadest definition, delinquency means misbehavior, and I’d say playing hooky counts.”

“You’re kind of a smartass,” Keith observed.

Katie remained unfazed. “I’ve gotta be, if I ever want to get out of here.”

At that, Keith’s ears perked. Very few people broke beyond Arus’s event horizon. For most travelers, it was a pit stop, but once you settled, you stayed. That was what had happened to his mom: she’d been passing through on her way to a motorcycling convention when her bike had broken down. Keith’s dad arrived to save the day. Three months later, they’d married in the town courthouse, a September wedding, escorted home by a fleet of men and women in leather jackets—members of Mom’s former motorcycle club, the Blades.

“Where to?”

“East coast,” said Katie. “Or maybe Midwest. As long as it’s somewhere cold. I want to see snow.”

“These desert nights aren’t cold enough for you?”

“It’s not the same. What about you? Everyone knows you’re ditching for Altea.”

“Yeah. They’ve got the nearest police academy.”

Katie’s eyes brightened. She had an uncanny way of looking at him, as if he were a gadget she wanted to figure out the innermost workings of. “You’re going to be a police officer?”

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Keith quirked an eyebrow. “If this is the setup for another joke about me being a delinquent…”

Katie pouted. “I’m more creative than that.”

“Good to know. Can you pass me one of the newspapers?”

Obliging, Katie handed him a tube as he rolled down the driver’s side window. With a flick of the wrist, Keith sent the bundle arcing through the air. It landed with a satisfying splat on the front porch, right up against the door. Beside him, Katie whistled.

“Twenty points if you can get it to land directly on the welcome mat,” said Keith, reaching behind him to grab another roll. He held it out between them in challenge.

Katie’s eyes sparked. “You’re on.”

What Keith knew about Katie Holt: she liked a good prank, she wanted out of Arus, and when she grinned, a dimple appeared high on her right cheek. And now he also knew the curve of her shoulder underneath her green flannel, a corded strength only hinted at before, when she’d grabbed him in the hallway. Katie had a wicked strong arm for somebody so small.

“I used to pitch for my brother,” explained Katie, her slight smirk a sign that she’d caught him noticing.

Two could play ball. “In that case,” said Keith, letting their fingers touch this time as he passed her another newspaper, “Batter up.”

o.O.o

The pink and blue of Coran’s Convenience shone invitingly against the night sky as Keith pulled into the parking lot. Wasting no time in unbuckling her seatbelt, Katie leaped out of the car, leaning against the ice machine as she waited for him to catch up.

It didn’t feel like they’d spent the last eight hours together; in fact, Keith was almost reluctant to see the end. They’d made a game of the rest of his paper route, competing to see who could throw faster or with more accuracy. Afterwards, dinner at Flo’s Diner, where between the two of them they’d devoured a healthy serving of chili cheese fries, crispy fish sliders, and apple pie. And now, to close the night, Slurpees from Coran’s.

Coran was Arus’s resident redhead and town gossip. Like a homing beacon, his head whipped toward the entrance when the bell overhead jingled. Somewhat protectively, Keith steered Katie so that the chip aisle obscured them from view as they headed toward the back, where the white lemon, blue raspberry, and cherry ice churned in their respective containers.

Halfway through filling his cup with cherry, Keith was interrupted.

“You’re doing it wrong,” said Katie, taking over. “The trick is to layer all the flavors.”

Keith took the package of Twizzlers she thrust at him, watching Katie top off the Slurpee’s blue raspberry layer with practiced precision.

“You’re a sick little genius, but I’ll take it.”

“Watch who you’re calling little,” she warned. “Corn Pops?”

Keith made a face. “Pass.”

“All right.”

At the cash register, Coran rang up their total with a twinkle in his eye. “How’s your mom doing, Keith?”

Reaching for his wallet, Keith shrugged. “She’s fine.”

“Gonna miss you when you leave for Altea, I bet.”

“I’m not disappearing off the grid, just moving. I’ll visit.”

“Mhmm. And what about you, Little Holt?” teased Coran. “Running around with this one now that Matt’s gone—I hope he hasn’t gotten you into any trouble.”

“We met in detention, actually,” said Keith, finally done counting his change. “Here. $5.79.”

Sensing Keith was a dead end, Coran swept the bills and coins into his hand and redirected his wiles toward Katie with more vigor.

“Trade that story for a Slim Jim.”

“Two Slim Jims and a pack of Mentos,” Katie countered.

Coran laughed, running a thumb over his mustache. “Deal.”

After laying the negotiated items on the counter, Coran leaned over to let Katie whisper in his ear. Meanwhile, Keith sipped the Slurpee, shivering slightly as the cold rushed to his head. Coran’s grin had pulled higher; Keith narrowed his eyes at Katie, wondering what she’d just said.

Once they’d escaped Coran’s gleeful “Stay safe, kids!” he had a chance to ask.

“What’d you tell him?”

“Something much more exciting than the truth,” grinned Katie, stashing their additional haul of Slim Jims and Mentos in the cup holder. “So, where to next?”

In the eerie white-blue lights of the gas station, her lips shone. She hadn’t redone her braids since the afternoon, and the wispy tangles framed her face, giving her a wild softness. It suddenly seemed impossible that Keith had lived all this time at Arus without casting her anything more than a second glance.

He braced a hand on the back of her headrest, getting ready to reverse. “I know a place.”

o.O.o

Keith’s boots clanged heavily as he climbed onto the bed of his truck. Katie had already spread out the blankets; she reclined on them now, elbows jutting out on either side of her head like two bony bird wings.

The cold desert air, combined with the condensation from the Slurpee, numbed Keith’s fingers. When he hit the lemon layer, his nose wrinkled. Wordlessly, he passed the cup to Katie, who accepted with a gleeful look that let him know this had probably been her plan all along.

“Do you do this often?” she asked.

Keith followed her gaze to where the roads out of Arus dissolved into black ribbons through the dry brush. Every so often, a car’s headlight appeared. In the distance, you could just barely make out the lights of another town, but it was mostly cactus and mountains and big desert sky.

“Yeah. My dad used to drive me out here whenever I needed to blow off steam.” He rested his chin on his knees, staring at the horizon line.

A rustle. Katie sat up beside him. “Was it in this car?”

Keith smiled. “Yeah.”

“That explains why the engine sounds so clunky then. You’ve had it for forever.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watched her. The starlight seemed to catch on her freckles, making them glimmer. He wanted to ask if she believed in ghosts. Not the evil, vindictive kind, but the restless sort. The type that might possess you to drive to the outskirts of town and sit in that liminal space between everything you’d known and everything you wanted to be.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” asked Katie, breaking his reverie.

“Aquila,” Keith answered readily. “I like how bright it gets in the summer. And I’ve always liked birds of prey.”

“Poetic.”

“Stars are the only thing I’ll miss about this place, probably.” Even as he said it, though, he knew it wasn’t true; there was the belltower and the trailer park and the way the sunrise seemed to set the grass on fire, and the dark, quiet corner of Mo’s where if you pressed your ear to the wall you could feel the vibrations from the band practicing in the basement. But it was molting season: time to trade in the old feathers for new wings.

“Well, that sucks,” Katie said. “Because even though we just started hanging out… I think I’ll miss you.”

Behind her head, the moon peeked out like an angel’s halo. Messy, he thought—about Katie’s hair, about this, starting something only to leave it behind, but. I’m not disappearing off the grid, just moving. I’ll visit.

Gently, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Katie’s ear. This new call was softer, more fragile than the one drawing him away from Arus, but it thud in his chest all the same.

“There’s room to add other things to the list,” he said, tugging her closer, or maybe she pulled him—either way, their mouths met in the middle, Katie’s hand curling around the flannel of his shirt, both a departure and an arrival, all at once. The glare from a passing headlight infiltrated the corner of his vision; instinctively, Keith turned away from it, nestling his face in the side of Katie’s head. Her hair smelled like a tangle of all the places they’d been today, hamburger grease mingled with desert air and notes of coconut.

“You’re trouble, Keith Kogane,” said Katie. She wrinkled her nose when she said it, and Keith was almost embarrassed by how fond he was of the gesture, already. It crackled in his chest, like a radio picking up a signal after hours of silence.

“So are you.”

#voltron #pidge #keith #kidge #kidgemas #my writing #fanfiction #ff: voltron

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shinidamachu · 6 years

Text

Osuwari Through The Years

Summary: a compilation of my favorite running gag featuring a little off course bonus. Because yes.

Word Count: 3.379 Genre: humour (I guess) Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

He was stucked and needed help, that much was obvious. At least obvious to anyone but InuYasha, who was still stubbornly fighting against the web the disgusting youkai had expelled on him - or was it some kind of glue? Kagome had put enough distance between her and the substance to be sure of its nature - keeping the half demon hanging from a tree branch.

The creature, of course, had taken advantage of the situation to make his escape, and vanished three minutes ago with a jewel shard on his neck, which wasn’t doing much to attenuate InuYasha’s already terrible mood.

“Do you want some help there?”

“Keh! As if a weak human like you could help me.” He didn’t even look at her, which for some unknown reason ignited a spark of anger that shined red and warm inside of her.

“I’m just trying to be useful, there’s no need to be rude.”

She could feel it coming, the inevitable fight. It was only a few stupid words away and the hanyou seemed to have an inherent talent when it came to stupidity. So much that Kagome could count the days since they had first met in one hand, while the times they had fight since then had long ago suppressed the hand scale.

“I don’t need your help, alright? I can do it by myself.” He continued to squirm, in vain.

“Yeah? How is that working out for you?” But he did not reply, so she let out a deep sigh and took the bow off her back, along with an arrow. She put them in position and pointed right at the viscous white wire that held him hanging from the tree. “Be still.”

“What? Why?” He finally looked at her and his gaze grew wide the second he did. “What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

“Would you relax? I think I’m really getting the way of it.”

“You don’t know how to use that thing for the life of you! Put it away before you hit me!” He shouted.

And there they were, the stupid words that made the spark became fire and burn down the last little piece of patiente she still had. She let the bow down slowly, while InuYasha was muttering something she could only assume meant stupid wench.

“You know what? You don’t have to worry about me hitting you anymore. I just thought of a better way to do it.”

“I already told ya I don’t need your h-”

“Osuwari!” Sure enough, the half demon plummeted the considerable height until his face meet the ground with a reverberant sound, dragged by the Kotodama No Nenju. She walked away while he complained in form of obscenities, his face still on the floor. “You’re welcome.”

"I told you it was gonna rain!” He pointed out again as the drops kept falling in soaring intensity. It felt like the upcoming storm was only waiting for them to get far enough from the little village they had left behind so that coming back was impracticable.

As much as he hated the company of the humans, it looked like a good idea to wait there until every sign of rain disappeared from the sky before keep on travelling.

But Kagome was so sure the weather would clear up that they simply left, despite his warnings. Sometimes her blind optimism would give him strength and make him believe in impossible things. Sometimes it would just get both of them soaking wet in the middle of nowhere.

“I heard you from the first three times!”

“Good.” He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this so much. Specially because in normal circunstances, he would be the one wanting to continue the trip independent of any misfortune and she would be the one choosing to wait.

But now she was in a hurry. Something about having to go back home to study. And he should be mad at her, as he always is when she says she needs to go back, or angry about the fact that she had put them in such situation. But right then he was only worry she was gonna catch a cold.

It felt good to be right for once. He would never say it out loud but this was a position that almost always belonged to Kagome. And it felt even better to know that the not so unpredictable event had delayed her plans a little.

Without saying another word, he took off his suikan and placed it above her head, now that the rain was really getting stronger. Not that it would make a big difference. Nevertheless, she thanked him, which was readily answered with a “keh!”

They walked for a few more seconds before Kagome suddenly stopped.

“Look!” She pointed to a spot ahead, her voice higher with excitement. InuYasha looked at the direction she was already running to, and saw what he assumed it was a abandoned hut, hidden between the trees.

But the floor was slick from all the rain and she slipped before she got there, falling in a mud puddle placed on the path.

“Kagome!” InuYasha ran to her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She said in a reassuring tone, but he needed to see for himself, so he kneeled before her and started to examine every inch of her skin, looking for bruises, but all he could find was mud: on her hair, on her clothes, on her face.

And then it hit him just how hilarious the whole thing was. Not only was she covered on mud head to toe, she had been osuwaried. Not a pleasant experience, is it? InuYasha thought the words but didn’t voice them, doing his best to fight the giggles that threatened to scape.

“It’s not funny!” She grumbled. And it was all it took. He burst out laughing, so hard and loud he wondered if it was really coming from him. InuYasha couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that - if he had at all -, but he had to admit it was a welcome sensation, and the thought made him laugh even more. “Stop laughing!” He would if he could. “Osuwari.”

The familiar force that pulls him down every time she says the damn word acted, and now it was his face that met the mud. InuYasha should had seen that one coming. He started to get up.

“I take it back. It is funny.” Now was her time to laugh, and something about it made the half demon want to join her.

“Yeah?” InuYasha took a handful of mud and throw at her.

“Jerk!” She yelled, but there was only amusement on her voice as she counterattacked with a handful of mud of her own. And so it went, even after they had standed up and through the way to the hut, playfull fighting and laughing as the rain poured down.

"Hurry up, Kagome! Those shards aren’t going to be found on their own, you know.”

Kagome rolled her eyes to the impatient half demon sitting on her bed and continued to organize her desk, where most of the school supplies remained untouched. She took the mental note of grabbing at least one book and taking it with her to the Feudal Era.

“I told you: we’ll come back after I clean my room.” She reminded him.

“And I told you: it will be faster if you let me help!”

“I’m almost done, you don’t have to get cranky.” Kagome walked to the other side of the bedroom, where the vaccum was. “There’s only the floor left. And I don’t need your help, I have this.” She gestured to the device.

InuYasha came closer, curiously sniffing the household appliance. But the fact went unnoticed by Kagome until it was too late. She had plugged it in and in the second she did, the youkai freaked out.

He screamed so loud and jumped back in shock so high, that had her just as frightened, screaming in return. Before had even occurred to Kagome to ask him what was going on, she noticed where he had landed. The desk she had just finished organizing.

“OSUWARI!” And he fell on the ground with a sonore ploft. “What has gotten into you? You scared the hell out of me!”

InuYasha got up, but didn’t go anywhere near her.

“What has gotten into me? Why the hell do you have a kazaana in your house?” He pointed at the vaccum.

Oh! She was about to laugh when he pulled Tetsusaiga out.

“No, no, no, no, no.” She begged. “Put Tetsusaiga away! It’s just a vaccum.” She unplugged it. “See?” She added, tediously.

InuYasha did as she said and crooked his head, obviously torned between what he had seen and what she had said.

“I still have to clean the floor, so I’m gonna turn it on again, alright?” Kagome plugged the vaccum again, but when she turned back to face him, InuYasha was nowhere to be found. “InuYasha?”

And then she saw him, clinging to the light that hanged from the ceiling. Her eyes went wide with the sight.

“InuYasha, get down right now!”

“No!”

“Don’t make me say the word again, I’m not kidding.”

“Turn that thing off first.”

“InuYasha, get down here before the light-” But before she could finish, the string that kept the light - and now a very frenetic semi demon - hanging gave in to his weight, and gravity did the rest.

“...breaks.” She sighed.

He found her in a heartbeat. It was almost embarassing how fast. But in that moment, with the unmistakable combination of long pitch-black hair and tiny green skirt filling his vision, InuYasha didn’t mind at all.

And then he saw the wolf.

Being the one facing his direction, Kouga spotted him first, just a small glance before he turned his attention back to Kagome, as if InuYasha was an insignificant bug he decided to ignore. His hands on Kagome’s.

It was enough to make red taint his vision and his speed up on their own accord. In the blink of an eye he was between the two of them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He growled. “Get your filthy hands off her.” InuYasha ordered, as if he hadn’t break their contact himself as soon as he reached them.

“InuYasha!” Kagome exclaimed behind him.

“What does it look like I’m doing, you stupid mutt? I’m talking to my future wife.” The bastard smiled at her, and InuYasha’s growl became deeper, his fangs positively showing now.

“Kouga-Kun, please don’t make it worse.”

“And you!” He turned to Kagome. “We have been waiting for you this whole time! I thought something had happened!”

“I’m so sorry, InuYasha. I didn’t mean to make you worry. We were talking and I lost track of time, that’s all.” He could tell she meant every word, but the very fact that she hadn’t see time pass while she was with Kouga made his blood boil.

“You know what?” He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder before she had time to do anything beyond gasp in surprise. “You can feel sorry on our way back.” InuYasha started to walk.

“Kagome, do you want me to set you free from this pulsing dog? Just say the word and I’ll kick him on the face.” As Kouga spoke, InuYasha found strong resistance to his advances and didn’t have to look back to know it was because the stinky wolf was holding her hands again.

“Do you still want to have hands?” The hanyou asked, through teeth clenched so hard it was a miracle any word could come out of it at all.

“It’s alright, Kouga-Kun, really. He has a point. I do have to get back now. And I’m sure Ginta and Hakkaku are looking for you, somewhere. You should get back to the tribe.” Kagome rambled on nervously while InuYasha was putting all his effort on giving another step forward.

“Kagome, you are so clever.” InuYasha heard in furious anger the sound that indicated the wolf demon was kissing her hands. “No wonder I chose you to be my wife.”

“Oh, stop that.” She bashfully answered him.

“Yeah.” Agreed InuYasha. “Stop it.” And then the pressure that was keeping them on the same place dissipated, and InuYasha started to move forward again. Kouga made a disdainful sound.

“It’s a good thing for you she is around to save your ass, mutt. One of these days you won’t be so lucky.”

“Bring it on, idiot.”

“I’ll see you soon, Kagome.” He shouted, as InuYasha worked to put as much distance between the youkai and Kagome as he could.

“See you!” She yelled back enthusiastically. InuYasha deliberately adjusted her weight with a not so careful jolt, earning an annoyed, protesting sound from the school girl.

Kouga left in his peculiar speed and only then InuYasha reduced his pace.

“Alright, he is gone. You can stop making a scene and let me down immediately.”

The half demon didn’t know what making a scene was, but he didn’t have to be a genious to realize she was madly angry. Every trace of sympathy, so characteristic of her voice, had vanished. And he knew her well enough to know he had taken a dangerous path, but he couldn’t care less. If she was mad, so was he.

“So you can osuwari me? I don’t feel like it.”

“And what makes you think I won’t do it right now?” Defied Kagome.

“I’m holding you. You can’t possibly be that stupid.”

“Let me down!” She started to hit his back with her fists and convulsively kick her legs. InuYasha tightened his arm around her.

“No.”

“InuYasha, I swear I’ll do it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“OSUWARI!”

And so they fell, attracted to the ground by the Beads Of Subjugation on his neck. InuYasha with his face to the grass, Kagome on her back, somewhat still trapped in his embrace.

“Get off me!” She demanded furiously, pushing him away as he tried to recover from the tumble. InuYasha grabbed her stubborn hands firmly and climbed on the top of her to keep her still.

“Are you crazy? You could have gotten hurt!” InuYasha roared the words in pure anger and waited for her to curse him something in return. The reply never came.

Instead, she sustained his gaze, defiant. Her breath was heavy and uneven from all the fuss and he could feel it warm and sweet on his face. InuYasha blinked and felt his expression softened instantly at the vision before his golden eyes: parted lips, onyx hair spread across the gras and chest going up and down beneath him. And he asked himself, which he have been doing with an alarming frequency lately, if Kagome has always been that gorgeous.

They remained like that until the sound of Kagome’s heart, strong and fast, was the only thing breaking the silence. It wasn’t until then that he noticed just how close their faces were and that his heart was matching the speed of hers with every passing second.

She swallowed and his eyes followed the moviment of her exposed throat, then went up to her lips and back to her eyes. InuYasha wondered what she would do if he kissed her right then, right there. But he never got the answer.

The hanyou let go of Kagome and stood up, holding out his hand to her. She ignored it and, with a deep sigh, got on her feet by herself. He watched as she cleaned the grass away from her skirt, thinking she was one of the few people who could make all of her anger appear through the simple gesture.

And judging by how scarlet her cheeks were, Kagome was beyond angry. Sure, InuYasha knew his face was probably in the same embarrasing tone of red, but he supposed it was for a complete different reason.

“Weren’t you on a hurry?” It hadn't occurred to him he was paralyzed, observing her every move until she talked again and she sounded more tired than irritaded this time, the hanyou couldn’t tell why. “Let’s go.”

“Hum? Yeah.” Was all InuYasha was able to say as he walked to her.

(Very Slightly NSFW) BONUS 🌹: with the first ray of sunlight, the hanyou woke up to the beautiful view of his wife’s naked back. The sight was far from being a novelty, but its familiarity didn’t stop the thrill from rushing through his body or the smile from spreading across his face. And he doubt it ever would.

His lips acted on their own accord, slowly kissing their way from her back to her shoulder. InuYasha couldn’t tell exactly in what moment of the process Kagome had woken up, but now her hand was caressing the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going. It was all he needed.

InuYasha turned his attentions to her neck, a muffled “good morning” between one kiss and the other. He put his arm possessively around her waist and took the advantage to pull her close, yearning to feel every piece of her, bare skin against bare skin.

“Good morning in deed.” Kagome giggled. The hanyou smiled and sucked hungrily at her neck, causing the priestess caress to become a strong grip on his silvery hair. InuYasha relieved the hold on her waist and let his hand leisurely slither down her body.

But before he could get any further, his body paralyzed in tension, sensitive ears twitching to the sounds of an awakened Shippou heading to their bedroom. He

“What’s wrong?” Kagome wanted to know, hands letting go of his hair, breath still uneven from anticipation. It was Shippou who answered her question.

“Are you guys awake? I’m so hungry.” He said, outside. Kagome giggled, finally understanding. InuYasha ignored the fox demon, choosing to bite his wife’s ear lobe instead.

“Let’s just pretend we’re not here.”

“I can hear you, stupid!”

“Come on, InuYasha, aren’t you hungry too?” The priestess wanted to know. InuYasha replied with a cocky smile and a new trail of kisses to the naked flesh of her shoulders.

“Starving.”

“I know for a fact you are not that hungry ‘cause we just had a pretty good meal last night.” The hanyou knew she had a point, but the memories of the night before had on him the opposite effect she was looking for. In a bold move, InuYasha grabbed one of her breasts, caressing it the way he knew she liked it.

“Will you keep talking about food without making any? Cause my stomach started to hurt.” Complained the little demon. InuYasha growled.

“Go to Sango’s! Eat yesterday’s leftovers! I don’t care!” He exploded, and resumed on his intention of kissing every inch of his wife’s body.

“Kagome!” Shippou tried, on a pleading voice. InuYasha could even imagine the little pout on the brat’s face.

“InuYasha...” She started, and he already knew how it was gonna go.

“I know, I know.” The half demon interupted her. “Osuwari!” He finished her sentence with an inaccurate impression of her voice and sat up. Kagome looked very pleased by it.

“Just one second, Shippou-Chan! InuYasha will take care of it!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a little more than a second.” He said, low. Kagome bit back a laugh, which didn’t help at all.

InuYasha sighed and stood up, picking up his clothes as he spotted them.

“Have you seen my-” But when InuYasha looked at her to ask, he found out that his underwear was already hanging from her index finger. InuYasha smiled at her smug face and took the fabric back.

Kagome got up, putting her clothes on as well.

“What do you want to eat, brat?” InuYasha shouted.

“Fish is fine. Two fishes. Actually, make it three.” The half demon rolled his eyes and made his way to the window that would take him to the forest outside.

“InuYasha, wait!” He heard his wife call.

“Hum?” Kagome came to him and placed her tiny, smooth hands on his chest, carressing it slowly before grabbing his suikan and bring him down to meet her lips in a hot, deep kiss.

“We will continue this later.” She promised.

“Keh!”

A/N: if you were paying attention, you noticed Osuwari #3 was brought to you thanks to this hysterical post by @coolstormy4, to whom I’m dedicating this oneshot. Sara, your headcanons are amazing! I don’t know if you like to be tagged in stuff but I really hope you enjoy this one.

#The last one is osuwariless because it's a bonus #So I guess you can also call this 4 Times InuYasha Got Osuwaried And The One He Didn't #Your opinion is very important so if you liked this tell me which one was your favorite #And if you found any grammar or spelling mistake #Oh if you have other headcanons come to my ask and maybe I write a part two? I don't know #I think I'm just looking for excuses to talk about my babies #Osuwari Through The Years #Kagome Higurashi #InuYasha #Inukag #Inukag humour #Kouga #Shippou #Inukag oneshot #Sid writes

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qqueenofhades · 6 years

Note

Writers choice for any Garcy kiss from the American(s) universe? (Am I going to regret this ask? Maybe. It's fine.)

26. Jealous kiss / 54. Against a Locker kiss

They have been standing in the abandoned warehouse along the Potomac for a bit longer than they should, given that Flynn shot three Rittenhouse agents earlier, they’ve dragged the bodies out to wire up with cinderblocks in black trash bags, and there are bloodstains still turning brown on the steel floor. This place has all the charm and panache of an industrial meat freezer, which it might have been at some point, and Lucy shivers, even as she glances around with an automatic reflex to make sure there aren’t more. Her hands are remarkably steady considering that she had to finish the last one off with a metal crowbar. The splitting wet sound hasn’t quite left her ears.

Flynn scans the dim walkways overhead one more time as well, then seems satisfied that they’re in the clear. The Chevrolet is parked outside, and while the cops don’t come to this part of town much, it still seems like too much of a risk. He reaches into his pocket and tosses Lucy the keys. “Go home.”

“We’ve finished here,” Lucy says. “Aren’t you coming?”

Flynn shakes his head. “No. I’m with Genevieve tonight.”

Oh. Yes. Of course. It’s September 1972, Rittenhouse is in full swing trying to protect Richard Nixon from the consequences of his actions, and so Alex and Victoria Mueller have been working overtime, certainly not at the travel agency. And that means that Flynn has cultivated a relationship, as ordered, with Genevieve Stevens, aide to the acting FBI director, L. Patrick Gray. They need to persuade her to access sensitive intelligence, plant bugs in her boss’s office (even if she never knows exactly what they are) and otherwise serve as a pliant and useful and unwitting tool. Who has no clue that the pleasant, handsome, kind man named Craig, who she’s fallen madly in love with, is a total lie.

(Lucy wonders what Flynn is like, playing Craig with Genevieve, and really doesn’t want to ask. Not that she should. This is a job, it is still a job. They have a two-year-old daughter at home, Ellie is probably wondering if Mommy and Daddy might actually make it back to tuck her in tonight, but their marriage is a business arrangement that doesn’t actually legally exist, and they too are a lie.)

“Genevieve,” Lucy says, after a moment too long. “Yes, right, I forgot. Of course, you can take the bus. I’ll go out first, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Flynn nods curtly, approving of this subterfuge, but he says, “I’ll go first, you wait. My wig and suit are in the back.”

They make their way to the door, Flynn checks outside, and then satisfies himself that it’s clear. Then all of a sudden, headlights roll past in a crunch of gravel and noise, startling them back into the shadows and against the old lockers, for whatever long-gone ghosts of factory workers and foremen manned this industrial floor. Old yellow time cards fall at their feet in a plume of dust, and as they remain there, side by side, something strange and slightly spiteful comes over Lucy. She catches Flynn by the arm and pulls his head down to her level, giving him what is, to all appearances, a brief and wifely peck on the lips. “Pick up some milk,” she whispers. “On your way home.”

He gives her an odd, unreadable stare, unsure what to make of that or if he should ask. “Read Ellie that Dr. Seuss book,” he says. “Horton Hears a Who. She won’t go to sleep without it.”

Lucy wonders, indeed, what who Ellie hears, but that is another question she’d rather not think about. They once more check the coast is clear, she waits while Flynn goes out and retrieves his Craig disguise, and quickly changes. Then he starts to walk, turns the corner without looking back, and vanishes from sight. It’s about five minutes to the bus stop from here. Ten if he’s being careful.

Lucy leans back against the lockers, staring into the dimness. Wonders if she’ll see the ghost of the man she bludgeoned to death earlier, if she should avert her eyes in holy dread. But she doesn’t, and she clenches her fist once, and the trembling stops. Then she takes the keys out of her pocket, swings behind the wheel of the Chevy, and starts the engine.

Victoria Mueller pulls out of the empty lot, the warehouse spectral in the setting sun, as she heads down the street, to the freeway, and merges onto 295 south, toward Alexandria. Nor, not once, does she look back.

#garcy #garcy ff #kiss prompts #the americans au #anonymous #ask

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