#like i would explode if i didn’t get this out of my system sooner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannahmanderr · 2 months

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Before we get into the chapter, a HUGE platonic smooch for @duchi-nesten who took the time to draw the Ancients from this story with bribery from me and @scarletsaphire I'm absolutely screaming over them still, they are just UGGHHH SO GOOD

From left to right is Zunje, Babel, Pele, and Kala!

Anyway, onto the chapter! It's an important one! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Everything begins. Everything ends. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jazz flinched as another wayward blast of ectoplasm exploded into the wall of the office building across the street, reducing it to little more than rubble. The battle was becoming more and more destructive as time bled on, and her nerves were really starting to get to her. She needed to get back out there and put a stop to it.

Unfortunately, there was the slight complication of her parents.

She’d tried to play dumb when Frostbite slipped up, but it had been pointless. Frostbite had been all too happy to explain that the Great One was, in fact, the ghost hero known as Danny Phantom.

Perhaps if it had just been her dad there, she would’ve been able to distract him, or figure out how to explain it away, but as luck would have it, her mom had pulled up shortly after the ghost king’s arrival.

It didn’t take them long to put two and two together. At least, that’s what she assumed.

Even more unfortunate was that her concussion had spontaneously decided to rear its ugly head, causing her to lean over and throw up in the middle of the road. Mom and Dad were far less than keen on letting her continue fighting after that. She’d protested of course, pointing out that the all-powerful ghost king was about to raze Amity Park to the ground, but they wouldn’t have any of it.

She had been forced to take shelter behind a large pile of rubble, along with her parents and Frostbite, as the battle intensified. Pariah Dark’s question about Danny had been met with a brutal attack from one of the four-armed Ancients, and the battle had progressed from there. At some point, the little lava-haired Ancient had taken over the direct combat with the ghost king, aided by the gnome and the four-armed ghost with a cloak of clouds. The last Ancient - Pandora, if Jazz remembered correctly - had engaged the black-armored knight. Sam and Tucker were still out there, somewhere, working to keep the thrall army at bay.

And that was just the fighting. Overhead, in the sky, the rip that had heralded Pariah Dark’s appearance still gaped over Amity Park. The air seemed to vibrate with its intensity; Jazz could feel it prickling at her skin, making her feel foreign in her own body. Like reality itself was beginning to fail.

In short, things were Bad-with-a-capital-B.

Jazz leaned over to peer around the rubble protecting them. “We should really be out there,” she muttered, even as her head throbbed worse.

“You’re not going anywhere, young lady,” Mom said. “Not while you’re injured.”

“I told you, I’m fine! I got it out of my system, I’m good to go.”

“I may not know many details about human biology,” Frostbite said, arching an eyebrow at Jazz, “but I have enough experience with the Great One to know that head injuries are serious in humans.”

Jazz didn’t miss how her parents winced hearing about “the Great One” and his injuries.

They hadn’t said a word about Danny - Fenton or Phantom - since Frostbite’s slip-up. It only put her that much more on edge. Sooner or later, Danny would return, and if Mom and Dad were going to flip out and shoot him on sight, she wanted to at least have the chance to warn him.

As it was, she couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Her mother’s poker face was nothing short of perfect, and her father, though he often wore his heart on his sleeve, was strangely stoic about it all. If there was one thing Jazz hated, it was not knowing things, and not knowing their thoughts on Danny was killing her.

She could only hope and pray. The fact that they weren't actively trying to gun down Frostbite was a good sign at least.

But for the time being, she pushed those thoughts away. “Believe me, I know plenty about head injuries. I wouldn’t be wanting to go back out there if I thought it was serious enough.”

“I don't think the person with the concussion should be making that judgment ,” Mom said. “You won't be going anywhere until we know you're safe.”

Jazz frowned. Was that a hint of hysteria in her voice?

Yeah, that couldn't be a good sign.

Still, her words gave Jazz an opening. “Alright, fine! Whatever! It's not like the world is ending or anything, in case you haven't noticed. Why aren't you guys out there, at least?” Maybe if she could convince them to go back to the fight, she’d have a chance to catch Danny before they saw him. Maybe she’d have a chance to warn him.

Her parents didn't answer. They exchanged a glance that Jazz couldn't read, and Dad’s shoulders sagged. He opened his mouth. “We -”

“What's going on here?”

Jazz’s eyes snapped up to see Valerie hovering just behind her parents and Frostbite; Wes clung to Valerie with his eyes screwed tightly shut. Her parents turned at the sound of Valerie’s voice, and though Jazz couldn’t see her mom’s eyes behind the red-tinted goggles, she could only imagine the look on her face.

Her dad, however, beamed widely. “The Huntress!” he exclaimed, grabbing at Mom’s arm like an overexcited child.

To her credit, Valerie avoided wincing too strongly. “Yeah, that’s… me.”

“Did you find him?” Jazz asked. She didn’t bother to hide the anxiety in her voice.

Valerie frowned, but nodded. “Yeah, but he’s… well…”

“Can we maybe have this conversation on the ground?” Wes asked shakily. Valerie responded with a roll of her eyes, practically shoving him off her. He stumbled the short distance to the ground and collapsed spread-eagle on the street. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Dad’s nose crinkled in confusion. “Uh… is this the backup you were talking about, Jazzy-pants?”

Jazz ignored him. “What do you mean? Where is he?” she asked Valerie.

“It’s okay, I’m here!” a voice called out. A moment later, Danny - as Phantom - pulled up beside Valerie. “I’m here.” Jazz’s breath caught in her throat. She had known, of course, that Danny had gone to get the Crown of Fire, but for some reason, it hadn’t crossed her mind that he would have to wear it. Granted, the crown on his head now was most definitely not on fire, but she thought the frosted look complemented him much better than fire. The way it sat on his head, and the way the cloak he wore rippled in the breeze and caught the light…

He looked regal. Like he really was a king.

It made her heart swell with pride. Her baby brother… he had come so far. She’d never doubted his leadership abilities, not really. His common sense could be… debatable at times, but her brother had a good heart. He was still young, of course, and the thought of him being a monarch had never occurred to her, but in that moment, Jazz couldn’t help but think that the role suited him.

She must have shown it on her face, because Danny caught her eye, and his hand flew up to the back of his neck. “It’s a long story…” he muttered sheepishly, his cheeks growing green.

Jazz opened her mouth to respond, but Dad stood up abruptly, cutting her off. Mentally, she kicked herself. She’d gotten so distracted by his arrival, she’d forgotten about their parents.

Danny instantly paled. Whatever he saw in Dad’s face, it couldn’t have been good. Jazz tried to stand, to intercept him, but Frostbite gently held her down. “Easy,” he rumbled quietly. “Do not act prematurely.”

Of course, she wanted to protest that, but she quickly became distracted by her father’s slow approach towards Danny. Her mother wasn’t too far behind.

Danny’s hand twisted into the cloak, and he averted his gaze. “Look,” he began shakily, “I… I get it if you hate me, and - and I… I’ll let you hunt me down or tear me apart or whatever you want, but please, you have to let me stop all this first, or there isn’t gonna be a world for you to tear me apart in. I just need to - mmph!”

Jazz squeaked and clapped her hands to her mouth as Dad lunged forward. She pushed Frostbite’s paw away to stumble to her feet. She had to get there first, had to stop him from hurting Danny -

- but her heart stuttered to a stop as Dad wrapped Danny in a tight embrace.

“Danny,” he said, his voice cracking. “We were so worried… You have no idea…”

A stunned Danny returned the hug as Mom pulled down her hood and glommed on to his other side. “You don’t… hate me?” he asked, his voice muffled by their dad’s burly form.

“Listen to me, Danny,” Mom said, peeling him out of Dad’s arms and holding him by the shoulders. She looked him firm in the eye. “No matter what you do, no matter what you are, we could never, ever hate you. Never, do you hear me?”

Jazz could see the tears glistening in the corners of Danny’s eyes even from where she sat. His lower lip quivered the slightest bit before he threw his arms around Mom’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I should’ve told you forever ago, but I just…”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” their mom said, rubbing circles into his back. “It’s okay. We’ll have time to… to figure it all out.”

“Yeah, assuming the world doesn’t end first,” Wes snarked from his position on the ground. Jazz shot him a heated glare.

Valerie simply looked away and folded her arms across her chest. Jazz frowned. Something clearly wasn’t sitting right with her, but…

“Wait,” Dad said, furrowing his brow, “what’s this about the world ending?”

“It’s okay,” Jazz said. “The world isn’t going to end. Danny’s going to make sure of it.” Maybe she’d have felt more sure of her words if there hadn’t been a gaping hole in the sky threatening to rip reality apart, but someone had to look on the bright side.

Their parents glanced between the two of them. “What do you mean?” Mom asked slowly.

Before either of them could answer, another wayward ectoblast flew overhead, crashing into the roof of the building right above them. Huge chunks of rubble broke off of the building and began to plummet straight towards them.

Valerie reacted quickly, pulling Wes up by his shirt collar and grabbing Jazz to drag them to safety. Danny and Frostbite reacted just as quickly by throwing up ectoplasmic shields. The rubble slammed into them, then slid off the shields and away from the rest of the group.

Valerie whipped her head towards the battle. “I think I’m… gonna go help them,” she said. She flew off before Jazz could say anything, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in her wake.

“I need to go help too,” Danny said thickly. He stared after Valerie. “It’s… that’s what I’m supposed to do. If I can beat him, everything will go back to normal… Mostly, anyway.” His hand twitched up towards his head.

Mom whipped her head in the direction of the battle. “Him?” she asked, nodding to where Pariah Dark and the lava-haired Ancient were still fiercely fighting each other. To Jazz’s horror, the Ancient seemed to be losing ground.

“Precisely,” Frostbite said jovially. How he could manage such a tone in these circumstances was beyond Jazz. “Once the Great One is able to defeat Pariah Dark, he can assume the throne and put the Heart of the Infinite Realms at ease! It’s quite simple, really.”

“Assume the - wait!” Wes shot upright. “You’re telling me that dumb crown isn’t just some weird costume?”

Danny flushed green, and his hand flew up to the back of his neck. “I, ah… like I said, it’s a long story.” He glanced at Mom and Dad. “I’m really sorry, believe me, I wish I could’ve told you differently, and I definitely wish it wasn’t the case, but…”

Jazz watched as Mom’s gaze drifted up to the crown on Danny’s head, as if she were just now noticing it. “What throne?” she asked weakly.

“Um… it kind of maybe sort of might be… the throne of the entire Ghost Zone?” Danny replied with a sheepish grin.

Dad scratched his head. “When did this happen?”

Danny’s face grew sober again. “I don’t know. I only just found out a few hours ago myself.” His eyes flicked away from their parents, down at his feet.

A pang of sympathy struck Jazz’s heart. Sure, Danny looked the part of a king, and somehow, she had no trouble believing he was the king, despite her earlier confusion, but somehow it had escaped her that he had barely had enough time to process everything. That everything was happening so quickly.

And their parents… it had to be equally difficult for them to process. They had only just learned their son’s true identity less than an hour ago, and now they were finding out he was essentially the heir to the throne of a world full of the same beings they had once sworn to annihilate. It would be a lot for anyone.

And so it nearly brought Jazz to tears when she saw Dad fight to plaster a smile onto his face. He placed a gentle hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said in a tone entirely too quiet for Jack Fenton, “it’s okay. Like your mother said, we’ll have time to figure it all out.”

Danny still didn’t look up. “Yeah,” he said, barely audible. “We’ll have time.”

His tone told Jazz he didn’t believe that in the slightest.

An ear-splitting roar shattered the moment. Everyone slapped their hands over their ears. Jazz only just managed to catch a glimpse of Danny gasping and hunching in on himself, clutching at his sternum.

A wave of hot air washed over Jazz. Trembling, she peered around the rubble, only to gasp in horror at the sight of the little girl Ancient bleeding lava all over the four-armed Ancient. She was still alive - as alive as a ghost could be anyway, but it was evident even from a hundred yards away that she was fully incapacitated. Pandora still fought with the knight, but everyone else - Sam, Tucker, Valerie, the other Ancients, even the thrall army - had practically frozen in place.

The most terrifying sight of all was the evil ghost king, looming over the street, staring straight at her.

No, staring straight at Danny.

“Come and meet your fate, little Prince!” he called mockingly. His voice reverberated over the street, causing buildings to rumble ominously. “Or will you take the coward’s way out?”

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the humming of the rip in the sky. Jazz held her breath as Danny glanced at their parents, then gently pushed Dad’s hand off his shoulder and took to the air.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he called back. “Just… give me the Ring before things get worse.”

Pariah laughed, a menacing sound that sent chills down Jazz’s spine. “Why should I surrender what is rightfully mine?”

Danny's eyes flared. “That power’s not yours. It’s mine.”

Jazz blinked at the sudden shift in Danny’s tone. It was still his voice, yes, but there was something about it…

Pariah roared wordlessly again. “Never!” he snarled. “Kilaris is MINE!”

With a guttural yell, he launched himself at Danny. Jazz could’ve sworn she saw a bright white light flare from the crown on Danny’s head, just momentarily, but when she blinked, it was gone, and Danny too had charged forward. The two collided in a blinding explosion of red and green.

Mom and Dad moved to follow Danny, but Frostbite held a paw up. “No,” he said, his voice somber and heavy. “This is not a fight you can help him with. He must win this by his power alone.”

“Listen here,” Mom snapped. “I don’t care how you do it in your world, but I will not stand by and watch my son fight some impossible battle on his own! I - we are going to help him, whether you like it or not!”

“I understand.” Frostbite flinched and threw up a shield just in time to stop another huge chunk of building from crushing them all. “But though you may not be able to help him in combat, there are other ways you can help him.” He glanced at Jazz. “Keeping your daughter and his friend safe, for one.”

“Pfft. Me? Friends with Fenton? Fat chance,” Wes scoffed.

“He will be able to fight with a sound mind if you help him protect yourselves and the other humans,” Frostbite continued, ignoring Wes. “And I must go and help my colleague.”

Mom turned, watching the battle with helpless eyes. “But… Danny -”

“ - will be just fine. But we must give him a fighting chance by helping elsewhere.”

“He’s right,” Dad said quietly, taking Mom’s hand. “We have to help get Jazz out of here. It’s getting too dangerous.”

“I told you, I’m fine! I can help too!”

Another explosion rang overhead. Jazz yelped and ducked as an enormous bolt of green energy flew over her head. It came close enough that she could feel its cold aura graze the top of her scalp.

“Y-you know, on second thought, I think I’m with Yeti Man over here,” Wes muttered, cowering behind a fallen wall. Jazz had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Her attention, however, quickly turned back to Mom. Again, she found herself wishing she could read minds. She could see the gears turning in her mother’s head after all, but Mom’s stoic face didn’t give her true thoughts away.

Jazz hated not knowing things.

Then Mom’s jaw tightened, and Jazz’s heart fell. She knew that look. “We’re getting you two to safety,” Mom said. Then, giving Frostbite a pointed look, she added, “And then we’re coming back to help Danny.”

Frostbite closed his eyes. “You will only distract him from what he needs to do. It is not wise.”

“That might be what you think,” Mom said as she bent down to help Wes stand, “but he's my son. I've let him struggle alone for too long.” Her voice cracked. “I have to start… making it up to him…”

“I assure you, the Great One does not bear any ill will towards you,” Frostbite said, frowning in sympathy. “This is not the time to begin ‘making amends’, though.”

Mom opened her mouth to retort again, but Dad laid a hand on her shoulder. “C'mon, Mads. We can figure it out later. Right now, we've gotta help these two.”

It was strange seeing her father being the rational, calm one, but Jazz chalked it up to the weirdness of the day. It was the only way she could keep it all straight in her head.

Mom shot Frostbite one last hard glare before leading Wes towards the RV sitting down the road. Dad scooped Jazz up into his arms and began carrying her to the RV, much to her embarrassment.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Don’t you worry, Jazzy-pants!” he said. His tone was bright as always, but Jazz could tell it was at least somewhat forced. “Soon as you’re safe, we’ll get right back out there and help Danny kick some evil ghost king butt!”

Jazz bit her lip. “What about what Frostbite said? About… interfering?”

Her dad hesitated before answering. “I’m sure he’s wrong. You can’t trust a ghost, after all!” His face froze as soon as the words left his mouth. “I mean, uh, not Danny of course! He’s different.”

She didn’t quite know how to respond to that. That… was a misconception they’d have to clear up sooner or later.

As she peered over Dad’s shoulder, back towards where Danny was fighting tooth and nail against Pariah, she hoped there would actually be a sooner or later.

“Be careful, little brother,” she whispered to herself. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The thread flickered.

Clockwork frowned as he allowed it to flow across his hands and in between his fingers. This certainly was the correct timeline, he knew that without a doubt, but its flickering concerned him greatly. It had been so strong when Vlad Plamius made the decision to allow Danny the Crown, but now…

He closed his eyes as he sifted through time. Before, the future had been as clear to him as any other. Now though, he could only see up to a certain point before it was obscured behind what felt like a thick wall of mist. There was still a future there, yes, but not one he could see.

It was, in a word, unusual.

“My dear Kilaris, what are you up to?” he murmured as he let the thread of the timeline slip from his fingers and back into the broader tangle of Time. Its flicker became swallowed up by the combined glow of the cluster of timelines, but Clockwork knew it was still present.

His eyes drifted to one of his time windows. The same image of Danny exiting the portal that he had watched just an hour or so ago played out again, this time in real time. A thin trail of frost followed in his wake as he flew to meet his family. The frost shimmered briefly in the ethereal light of the rip in the sky above, leaving a silky, glowing strand, almost like -

- ah. Of course.

“Must you always be so overdramatic?” Clockwork said aloud, the semblance of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He rested his hands on top of his staff. He knew what needed to happen now.

It was only a matter of time. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fighting Pariah was nothing like it had been the first time around.

Before, Danny had been fighting in a clunky mech-suit. True, it had helped enhance his powers (until it tried to kill him), but it had made his movements equally clunky and stiff. He’d needed to adapt to the added weight and size quickly, but it still cost him when he took a few crucial hits.

This time he was not bound by any suit. He was free to move as he pleased, using the advantage of his smaller form to move with agility and speed that Pariah did not possess. He could dive in close for a punch or a kick, then turn on a dime and dart away. He wouldn’t have been able to do that in the Ecto-Skeleton.

There was also the fact that he had the help of the Ancients. True, it looked like Pele had taken some nasty hits from Pariah and would be down for the count, but the others were still going strong especially with Zunje now, keeping the Fright Knight and the thrall army at bay. He didn’t like seeing Sam and Tucker down there in the fray, so close to his own battle with Pariah, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

And then there was the Crown. It remained secure on his head, feeding him a power that buzzed through his veins and his core, making him feel like he’d just taken six shots of espresso mixed with pure ectoplasm. It was an exhilarating feeling, one that made him wish he’d actually used the Crown when he’d had the chance, during his first fight with Pariah.

(A wish he immediately scolded himself for.)

Danny gritted his teeth as he threw up another ectoplasmic shield, this one with a thick coating of ice thanks to the power of the Crown. It helped protect him from Pariah’s elemental attacks, which ran much hotter than his own.

Ectoplasmic fire exploded across the shield, and Danny could feel its heat as it curled around the edges towards him. He had to dig his heels into the air to brace himself against the sheer force of the hit.

Pariah didn’t give him a chance to fire back. No sooner had Danny lowered his shield did he see Pariah lunging for him, fangs bared and a fiery, maniacal look in his lone eye. Danny yelped and darted to the side, just barely missing Pariah’s fist.

Danny tried to respond with his own blast of ectoplasm, the Crown’s power coursing through him, but Pariah deflected it easily with his mace. The blast ricocheted off of it and into the street. Danny gasped as it flew right over Jazz’s head, just barely missing her by a foot.

That turned out to be a mistake. He should’ve known better than to let himself get distracted. It gave Pariah the opportunity to take another swing with his mace, catching Danny in the gut and sending him crashing into the ground.

Danny gripped his stomach and swallowed down a cry. The mace’s sharp spikes were not just for decoration, it seemed; they’d dug mercilessly into his torso, leaving him with deep, ragged gashes. The fall into the street hadn’t been too kind on his ribs, either. He could already feel the Crown diverting some of its power to the injuries, trying to heal him as quickly as possible.

Pariah roared as he dove for Danny, fire exploding to life around his fist. Danny managed to roll out of the way, and Pariah’s fist slammed into the street, cracking it even more. In any other fight, Danny probably would’ve tried to make some snarky comment about how the potholes in Amity Park were already bad enough and they didn’t need more, but he was still struggling to get air back in his lungs. Not to mention he found it much harder to crack jokes in the middle of his more serious fights, mostly because he had to concentrate on not getting beaten to a pulp.

As Danny rolled, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father scoop Jazz into his arms. Mom helped Wes up, and they ran towards the RV, which was still parked haphazardly down the road. Miraculously, it was still standing.

He could almost breathe a sigh of relief. He still didn’t know if Sam and Tucker were safe or if they were still out there fighting the skeleton army, but knowing his family (and Wes) were safe offered him a little bit of reassurance.

Focus. Do not lose sight of the goal.

Right. The Ring. He still had to get that. Somehow.

It was going to be much easier said than done. Getting it off of Pariah’s hand seemed impossible, especially with the relentless drive of the king’s attacks. Danny barely had the chance to recover and launch his own attacks, let alone come up with a plan to swipe the Ring.

He forced himself up and into the air. His cloak flared with cold energy as he allowed ice to gather in his hands. That was another advantage he had this time around - the help from his elemental core. His ice attacks were some of his strongest, and he silently thanked whatever unseen force had granted him an ice core as he loosed the energy all at once, freezing Pariah’s entire arm to the street.

You’re welcome, little Prince.

Danny almost stopped in midair. That remark definitely sent a flurry of questions flying through his head, but he had to keep his attention on Pariah. We’re not done with this, he still thought back.

Of course not. You still have much to learn.

He didn’t think the Heart meant it as a dig, but he still mentally stuck his tongue out. Even if he didn’t have time to ask questions, he could still be sassy. No one could take his sass away.

It was strange how much clearer the voice in his head seemed now that he had the Crown on. It had been clear before, but there was a new clarity to it, like when his eye doctor gave him a new prescription for his contacts. He supposed it made sense; now, he had that direct contact.

It still didn’t explain why the voice sounded like his own train of thought sometimes.

Even stranger was the feeling of the power offered to him by Kilaris. It was stronger than the power he’d had while wearing the Ecto-Skeleton, and that had probably been the time when he was the most powerful throughout the past two years. It helped that unlike the Ecto-Skeleton, the Crown did not drain him of his energy as he used it; instead, it continuously fueled him, pouring more and more power into his body, like it could never run out. It was thrilling, this feeling of endless energy. His core practically vibrated from it all.

At the same time though, fear nagged at him. This was how it felt with just the Crown on. How much worse would it be once he got the Ring too? The thought sent a chill down his spine, and he found himself subconsciously beginning to suppress his core. Suppress the ceaseless power flooding into him.

Why stop the power you are meant to have?

Danny swallowed.

That’s exactly what he was afraid of.

It all passed through his mind in the few seconds it took for Pariah to begin trying to melt the ice securing him to the ground. “Why you little -!”

More ice pooled in Danny’s hands. “Sorry,” he said as he re-froze Pariah’s hand to the street. “You just looked like you needed to chill out.”

Pariah bellowed, and the ice cracked and shattered. “Impertinent child!” he sneered. “When I am in control once more -”

“Save it!” Danny fired off a round of concentrated bolts of ice in quick succession, forcing Pariah to retreat a little. “I already told you, the Heart’s not yours anymore! It hasn’t been for a long time!”

“And you dare presume it is yours?” Pariah said. He quickly gained back the ground he had lost by leaping at Danny again.

Of course, Danny easily flew out of the way. “I don’t ‘presume’ anything!” he shouted. “I already know!”

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say, and he really didn’t like the taste the words left in his mouth, but if he’d learned anything throughout his career as Danny Phantom, it was that his opponents got sloppy when he riled them up. Snarking at them just happened to be the easiest way to do so.

Is it truly “snark” if you speak the truth?

In spite of himself, Danny almost laughed. If you’re gonna be stuck with me, you better get used to the snark, whether it’s true or not. We come as a package deal.

He ducked out of the way of another punch. He didn’t recover quick enough; by the time he managed to turn around to face the king, an entire wall of red energy was surging at him. There wasn’t time to fly around it. It struck him with a force so strong, he was thrown back more than a hundred yards.

His ribs groaned in pain as he slammed into the concrete and skidded back a few more yards for good measure. Nausea churned in his stomach from the blow, and he had to resist the urge to lean over and throw up. All too soon, Pariah was on top of him again, swinging his mace.

Knowing there was no way he could move in time, Danny turned intangible and allowed himself to sink into the ground. He counted to three, just enough time to get his nausea under control, then called ectoplasm to his hands. With the Crown’s power, the energy’s green glow was so bright, it almost seemed white.

It wasn’t difficult to track Pariah’s hot ecto-signature underground. Danny lined himself up underneath him, then sprang from the ground. His blazing fists collided straight with Pariah’s jaw. It didn’t push Pariah back like he had hoped, but it distracted him long enough for Danny to fire his ectoplasm in one long, continuous blast.

Pariah growled under Danny’s onslaught before finally bringing up a red shield. “You truly think this will be enough to stop me?”

Danny didn’t let up. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop a monster like you from hurting the Realms again.”

“Really now?” Pariah twisted his shield into a blast of his own. It pushed against Danny’s, and he once again had to dig his heels into the air behind him to keep from being thrown back again. “Then why don’t you?”

Danny’s heart skipped a beat, and his attack faltered for the briefest of moments. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Pariah said, laughing. “I have seen you. I have seen your fears, your doubts…”

“You don’t know me at all!” Danny yelled. Frustration distracted him, and he unwillingly drew on the Crown’s power to fuel his blast. “Just ‘cause you got in my head once doesn’t mean anything!”

“Poor little Prince,” Pariah cooed mockingly, as if Danny hadn’t even spoken. “This is why you are weak. This is why you will fail to protect everything you stand for. You are nothing more than a scared child.”

Danny couldn’t stop the anger-fueled energy pouring into him and, subsequently, pouring out of his hands. The Crown was all too happy to supply it. It just responded to him too easily. It responded to his resentment of Pariah, his frustration at the tyrant king’s insinuation that he was a coward, his rage at the fact that Pariah refused to hand over what was rightfully Danny’s -

Danny screwed his eyes shut tightly. That last one, he knew it was the Crown’s influence, but he couldn’t stop it. It was all coming too hard, too fast, too strong, and it was thrilling. The power flooding through the Crown just felt so right, like maybe he really was meant to have it all along.

He wanted to throw up.

The power demanded a release. It thrummed against Danny’s skin, coursing through his core, making his green ectoblast grow brighter and brighter until it was nearly a blinding white. It would not remain bound for much longer.

And so with a guttural yell, he unleashed it.

He wasn’t entirely sure what happened - the rush of energy leaving him all at once had left him overwhelmed and disoriented - but when he opened his eyes, the whole block had a thin layer of ice covering it, sparkling in the ethereal light of the rip above. Large branches of the trees in front of the buildings had frozen and cracked off the trunks, shattering on the ground below. He could see at least one downed power line.

Pariah had fallen to the ground, into a huge crater Danny swore hadn’t been there before. Crystals of frost coated his hair and his cape. He slowly sat up, rubbing his head, clearly just as disoriented as Danny.

Danny stared at his hands in horror. Did I really do that?

The Heart didn’t answer him. He couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

Probably bad. For him, anyway.

And in that moment, he swore to himself he’d never allow the Crown to give him that much power ever again. Never.

(No matter how right it had felt to control it.)

Pariah’s cough caught his attention. “You…” he muttered before stopping abruptly.

Danny’s breath caught in his throat as Pariah’s lone eye fell on the Crown sitting on his head. For just a brief moment, the world seemed to screech to a halt around them, and a silence filled the air, so thick it left a dusty taste in Danny’s mouth. Even the rip in the sky above seemed to pause in its yawning.

Then a fire sparked to life behind that one eye and a wave of heat crashed over Danny, nearly knocking him over. The roar Pariah let loose chilled Danny to the bone and left a whiny ringing in his ears. He didn’t even bother to try and stand his ground against a rage so strong; he simply turned and rocketed off in the other direction.

Just in the nick of time too, it seemed, as Pariah lunged after him. In an instant, a flurry - no, a storm of scarlet ectoblasts surrounded Danny. He twisted and ducked and dived and put all his flying skills to the test trying to dodge them all. It was difficult, since the blasts were all coming from behind him, but strangely enough, he felt as though he could sense them in the air as they flew at him, like he could just tell where they were without looking.

“Is that you?” he asked as he narrowly avoided yet another attack.

On the contrary. It is you, little Prince.

“That makes zero se- agghh!” A blast clipped Danny’s side, sending a flare of white hot pain up his ribcage. The blast was strong enough to send him careening off course, and he couldn’t stop himself from colliding with a building and plummeting to the street below. His head hit hard enough to cause his vision to go black.

He groaned pitifully as he laid on the road. The pain shooting through his side felt as though it was trying to burn straight through him, even in spite of the cloak and Crown’s efforts to heal him. Something sticky and wet pooled underneath the hand gripping his side.

For a minute, he just laid there, fruitlessly trying to will the pain away. Unbidden memories of being in a very similar pain in a very similar fight began to well up. He forced them back down. Not right now.

A blood-curdling scream had his eyes flying back open.

Vision half-blurry from the fall to the ground, Danny pried his head up off the street and looked. In front of him was the elementary school, surrounded by a shimmering green ghost shield. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, since it was after school hours and the building would normally be empty, but his eyes landed on a small crowd of civilians, hovering near the inner edge of the shield and watching the battle with fear in their eyes. The scream had come from a little girl no older than six, covering her mouth in horror and pointing at him.

No, pointing behind him.

With a grunt of pain and a tremendous effort, Danny took to the sky again, wobbling in midair. Pariah’s boots slammed into the street not a second later, right where he had been laying.

This was bad. This was really getting bad. He was injured, and though the Crown and the cloak kept his energy levels high enough for the most part, he was devoting too much energy to the fight to focus any towards healing himself. Energy didn’t exactly help when it was his physical body that was damaged.

And now there was the fact that he had a slew of people behind him, huddling underneath a ghost shield. True, it would protect them from Pariah, and it would protect them from stray blasts, but rubble could easily go flying in, or someone could step out of the protected radius. It was too dangerous to keep the battle this close to them.

(Not to mention he saw more than one cell phone out and recording, and that definitely set him on edge.)

He tried to dart away from the shield, but Pariah managed to snag his collar as he whizzed by. He gagged and his hands flew up to his throat.

“A coward!” Pariah cackled. “That is who you are! Fleeing from the battle? Fleeing from those under your protection?” He threw Danny into yet another building. “And Kilaris dares deem you worthy?”

“So you admit it,” Danny coughed. His hand gripped his side again. “That the Heart wants me over you.” Not that he was crazy keen on that fact.

Pariah’s face morphed into a dark frown. “The Heart’s opinion is worthless!” he snapped. “It is I who controls Kilaris! Its will bends to me!”

In spite of the pain and every instinct telling him not to, Danny shot Pariah a cocky, albeit weak, grin. “Bet.”

He had to keep from laughing at the stunned look on Pariah’s face. It was clearly not the response he had been expecting to his declaration, and the fact that Danny had been able to catch him off guard that badly was priceless.

The humor didn’t last long, though. In the blink of an eye, Pariah was charging at him again. This time, Danny anticipated it enough to be able to phase back through the building. He emerged at the ground level, underneath Pariah, who was still looking for him.

Danny moved to leap up once more, but his ribs screamed in protest. He hissed as he tried to keep from doubling over.

The cloak’s interior had to be sub-zero at this point, it was working overtime. Another layer of frost was beginning to glaze over it. The Crown too grew colder on his head, feeding pulse after pulse of energy into him.

You have been holding back, little Prince. The power has the capability to heal you and aid you in battle simultaneously, but you must let go of your fears if you are to use its true potential.

Danny didn’t answer. He was too distracted barely dodging Pariah’s mace and firing up a barrage of ice at him to do so.

There was also the little fact that he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to… couldn’t acknowledge…

Yet he couldn’t deny just how badly his core wanted it. The memory of how that power had felt just those few minutes ago burned through his head, and his core jumped in earnest.

He gritted his teeth and forced his core to quiet. It would be fine.

It had to be.

As soon as the ice left his hands, though, he collapsed in on himself once more, clutching his bleeding side. It was long enough of a distraction for Pariah to slam his feet into the street, causing enough of a quake to knock Danny off his feet and to the ground.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't be so fine.

Pariah swung his mace down again, and Danny responded with a green shield. It was too hasty, not properly formed, and it shattered underneath the force. Danny yelped and tried to roll away, but the mace still clipped his back, tearing open the skin there.

Yeah, definitely not so fine.

The temptation to give in and let the Crown flood him once more was growing by the minute. Danny didn't know how long he could sustain himself with all these injuries, let alone how he could win the fight and take the Ring. His core ached to be filled by the Heart's power. He knew that if he let it happen, it would almost guarantee his victory.

But his eye caught the ghost shield behind him, where the crowd of civilians stood watching him with horror painted on their faces. He remembered just how badly he had destroyed the block over when he'd let the Crown's power overwhelm him, and his stomach flipped. No way could he put his people in that sort of danger.

You can control it, little Prince. You are more than capable.

Again, Danny didn't respond. The battle consumed too much of his focus. Gasping against the flare of hot pain, he took to the air once more to avoid yet another swing of Pariah’s mace. It missed him by a hair. He raised his hands once more to answer with an attack of his own, and -

“Danny!”

It was instinct. He turned his head at the sound of his mother calling his name.

It was the worst mistake he could’ve made.

He met his mom’s eyes for just a moment, but it was a moment enough for Pariah to make his move. Danny didn’t register the heat moving behind him until it was too late. He turned around just in time to see Pariah’s hand flying towards him.

Reflexively, he turned intangible in the nick of time. Pariah’s hand sailed harmlessly through his head and out the other side. His tangibility returned, and he reached out to return the attack.

It wasn’t until an emptiness unlike any other hit him like a brick wall that he realized it hadn’t been him Pariah had been gunning for.

Danny immediately dropped to his knees and doubled over in pain as his core cried out. Just like at Vlad’s, his core felt like it had been ripped straight from his chest and drained of all its energy. Cold air surrounded him as his cloak flared to life, trying desperately to compensate for the lost energy. The only sound was his frantically pulsing heart in his ears, and he couldn’t catch his breath enough to shout.

It hurt. Ancients, it hurt.

And unlike at Vlad’s, the emptiness pressed on.

Danny managed to look up as panic bubbled to the surface. His stomach only churned worse when he saw Pariah standing in front of him with a wild grin, holding the Crown that had been sitting on Danny’s head.

“You should’ve surrendered when you had the chance, little Prince,” he said.

Danny tried to respond, but couldn’t. It was too much. The void inside him felt like it was about to swallow him whole, just like the void above was threatening to swallow Amity Park.

Please, he begged in a fit of desperation, help me!

The Heart didn’t respond.

“It cannot help you now, child,” Pariah Dark laughed, as if he had read Danny’s mind. “Not when it is finally back in the hands of its true master.”

And as Pariah laughed once more and raised the Crown to put it on his head, Danny lifted a feeble hand towards him, trying to call up his ice, his ectoplasm, his anything, anything that could stop him. He couldn’t feel his power, he couldn’t feel his core, he couldn’t feel his Heart -

Pariah roared in pain. Danny’s head snapped up to see him drop a steaming Crown. It landed on the street with a loud clatter as Pariah held his also-steaming hand close to his chest.

“You!” he bellowed, glaring daggers at the Crown. “You will yield! That power is MINE!”

Danny ignored him. He had zeroed in on the Crown and begun to drag himself toward it. Somewhere in the back of his head, he realized he probably looked absolutely ridiculous right now, and it pained him to think about how badly he wanted - needed to get the Crown back, but he didn’t care.

He couldn’t tell if he was simply imagining it, but he could almost feel a little tendril of power, reaching out to him, trying to hook into his core, trying to pull him closer.

Pariah roared again, and Danny had to retreat back into the cooling comfort of his cloak as a wall of heat crashed into him. “No!” he snarled. “If you will not bow to me, then you will have no one!” With a shout that shook Danny to his bones, Pariah snatched the Ring from his finger and threw it down next to the Crown with such force that it formed a little crater.

Danny’s heart began to pound even faster. This was it. This was his chance. He just had to move -

But he never made it. Pariah unleashed a terrible scream, and then hot, red energy poured from his hands.

Straight onto the Crown and the Ring.

If losing the Crown had hurt, Pariah’s attack on it was excruciating. Danny gripped his head and his core, unsure if he was the one screaming or if it was someone else or if he was just imagining it.

“Stop!” he managed to gasp. “You - hurting…”

But Pariah paid him no mind. Instead, he yelled louder, and another barrage of energy slammed into the Crown and Ring. Danny reacted as though he had been the one to get hit, falling to his stomach and crying out soundlessly.

He could barely see the Crown and Ring through Pariah’s onslaught, but when he finally gathered the strength to lift his head and look, his entire being froze.

A crack appeared in the Crown.

And now he was sure he wasn’t imagining the scream of pain because it definitely had to be him with how his core cracked too, and there was definitely another voice screaming in harmony with his and Ancients, of course it would be screaming, with the way Pariah -

“I am the power of the Realms!” Pariah roared, and another crack appeared in the Crown.

Danny reached out one last time, but he knew it was fruitless. There was no way…

Danny cried out.

The Crown and Ring cried out.

Kilaris cried out.

And then

Kilaris

s h a

t t

e r e

#danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #fanfic #danny phantom fanfic #hannah writes #supernova #jazz fenton #pariah dark #i have no clue what else to tag this

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laf-outloud · 10 months

Note

https://www.instagram.com/p/CtuU8D9P96W/?igshid=Y2I2MzMwZWM3ZA==

I’m sorry if you’ve already discussed this or weren’t really following JIb and for the upcoming rant, but I’ve been out of the loop due to travelling home from JIB and only saw this on instagram today.

I’m sorry, but Rob is such a petty (or insensitive) asshole:

//You did it again #Roma.

Thank you @jusinbellocon and @serendipityhope for hosting another fantastic weekend celebrating love, friendship and (SPN) family.

E stato Bellissimo.

#jibcon #spn #spnfamily @jensenackles @drakerodger @jojoflei_ @jeffparise @billy.moran @jasonmannsmusic @paulcarella @dicksp8jr #francesco, #michele

*i me, @jensenackles, @housecatsswain, some of her people//

The guy literally tags Jensen twice, every guest EXCEPT Jared, HIMSELF, had a panel with Jared (which I enjoyed at the time because they were very good together on stage), has the nerve to use #spn and #spnfamily, while excluding ONLY the lead of Supernatural. The guy who made it a “family.”

I get that he might not have hung out with Jared at JIB, and Jared wasn’t at his bedside when he had his stroke so he isn’t an automatic BFF for life, but they were literally on-stage together, getting a picture wouldn’t exactly be hard. Hell, he didn’t even have to include a picture of Jared, but to leave him as the only person in attendance who he didn’t tag is some serious BS. It’s also unprofessional.

These extras are such ungrateful trash, I’m disgusted that I finally caved and spent money on an op with this fool (at least it’s not just him in the picture and I can maybe crop him out).

Like, if Jared hadn’t stayed for years longer on a show that he was thinking about leaving, these jerks would have lost their money train years sooner. But all he gets is slighted and to be made the butt of their jokes. He was even nicer to Rob onstage than any of the other guys. He is more successful than all of them, and they should all frankly be kissing his ass for keeping them employed.

I guess now I really see why Rob will never be cast for even a bit part on Walker despite whining about it on his podcast.

Good for you Jared, keep distancing yourself from these petty losers!

Side note: I had a meet and greet with Jared at JIB and he was in a super good mood, probably because Gen was on her way there.

Again, sorry for the rant, but I had to get it out or explode.

I'm sorry you were close to exploding, I hope this helped!

As for Rob's post... I didn't really get that annoyed about it, and hopefully my reasoning will help you feel a bit better. I did see the post when it initially came out, and I also saw that in his Stories, Rob did include a picture of Jared, so he didn't forget about him completely.

The best way I can put it is to liken it to the corporate world class system. It's like if the SPN/Convention crew all worked in the same division together for 10+ years. With the ending of SPN, Jared was promoted into a separate division while everyone else either stayed in that division, or made a lateral transfer. In the corporate world, even if you were good friends with a co-worker, once they move up in the world, a different kind of relationship developers. So, Jared still attends the same company meetings and get-togethers as his coworkers from the old division, but the same kind of friendship doesn't exist because he's now in a different peer group (or class). They're all still the same people, but how they see and interact with each other has changed. And since I know that Jared is finding success outside the SPN family, and more importantly, is happily vacationing with Gen, I'm not bothered by Jared's exclusion from the tags.

#ask box #anti rob benedict #due to ask #when work changes #relationships change #jib 13

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squishmallow36 · 2 years

Text

Aurora Irae

I figured I've accidentally written them into enough other oneshots I should give Marelliana their own story. I originally planned on using OCs for this but well Arsonist!Marella was too fun to turn down.

Word count: 3.5k

TW: swearing, blood, a knife, arson, implied murder due to aforementioned arson, mention of Alden's homophobia, the whole shebang. Please tell me if I should tag anything else.

Neopronoun notes: She/they/fi Marella, ae/aer Biana, xe/xem Dex, it/its Keefe, ze/hir Maruca, fae/faer Linh, he/hine Fitz

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee @jamesdeangf

On Ao3 or below the cut!

Marella stumbles back into fire hideout, clutching fire shoulder. Fi replays the night’s events over and over in fire mind, trying to figure out how it could’ve gone better.

It started pretty normally, just having to deal with your average corrupt politician who got away with tax evasion. There might be some other charges, but it’s fairly routine by now.

It shouldn’t be, but it is.

But then he started packing his car sooner than expected, which is a sure sign that he’s gonna be going somewhere sometime soon. And chances are, it’ll be out of the country.

It’s not that hard to get to Mexico from San Diego, you know? Certainly easier than from, like, New York.

And then there’s the whole problem of getting innocent--at least to a certain extent--people out of the way.

But, thankfully, Emery’s wife is having an affair. Marella doesn’t have a clue who, and it really doesn’t concern fire. Fi also doesn’t have definitive proof, but it’s obvious when you’ve been borderline-stalking their house for over a week by now and she hasn’t come home before 10 p.m. once.

Yeah, some people work, but that’s kind of excessive. And this isn’t fi’s first rodeo. You learn to spot the signs.

Marella sits down on a stool, peeling fire jacket off, and grimacing the entire time.

Small shards of glass are sticking out of fire shoulder, blood dripping from the wounds.

Marella swears. Fi grabs a pair of tweezers and braces fireself before starting to pull them out one by one.

There was so much traffic this evening and for no good reason. That threw off all the calculations, and fi already had only a vague grasp of stoichi--whatever the word is. Some fancy chemistry thing.

Honestly, it was a good day if fi didn’t fall asleep in Mrs. Galvin’s class.

Marella didn’t think fi would have to time how long, in seconds, it would take for 1 molar HCl to eat through three sheets of aluminum foil so it can react with the baking soda and heat up the carbon disulfide until it starts to burn.

But here we are.

Because it took way too freaking long to get there, it was dangerously close to when Emery’s wife usually got home, and in fire hurry, fi couldn’t get out of the blast radius in time.

Exploding windows are my favorite kind, fi thinks bitterly as fi pulls the last shard out of fire arm.

As Marella is trying to get the crusty dried blood that isn’t covering a hole off, fi starts muttering about how Dex caused all of this.

Xe’s the best source for chemicals anywhere around here, and is oblivious enough to buy fire crappy excuses of why fi needs more HCl.

That or xe knows and just lets fire believe that fi is believable. Either way, this current system is working, and fi doubts that xe is going to do anything to change that. Fi’s a well-paying customer, after all.

Marella us so caught up in fire internal monologue, fi lets fire guard down. And that’s never a good idea.

The floorboards above fire head creak with a footstep, and a stream of muttered curses start flowing from fire lips.

Fi throws on fire disguise in record time, carefully shrugging fire well-worn, fireproof jacket on before looping fire smoke-filtering mask Dex didn’t know xe made for fi.

It’ll have to do fi thinks, looking at the recent lacerations all over fire jacket, as fi creeps up the stairs.

Fi pulls a familiar knife out of fire pocket, tightly gripping its handle that has molded to the shape of fire hand after all this time.

Marella watches, crouching in the shadows. With each passing the second, the voice in the back of fire head wondering if fi is just being paranoid gets louder.

Fi’s about to give up when, softly, another floorboard creaks.

Marella wants to swear. Someone is definitely here…What are you doing?

Fi sneaks out of fire hiding spot, pressing fireself into a dark corner, hoping fi isn’t too obvious. It can be difficult to hide in an old, abandoned, concrete warehouse.

Ironically, that’s exactly why fi liked it in the first place. That, and the nice basement.

Marella gets fire first look at the figure, as they step into the light.

The figure seems to have a sixth sense to know fi is there, and as they make eye contact, their fight-or-flight responses both kick in.

The figure tries to turn and run, and there’s some primitive instinct that tells Marella to chase after them, to protect fire land.

It’s only a few steps before fi catches up, pressing them against the wall to prevent further attempts to run away.

As an added precaution, fi presses fire knife against their throat.

The figure’s hoodie falls back, revealing a terrified expression on a familiar face.

It takes much too long for Marella’s mind to put the pieces together. And those pieces all add up to fire girlfriend, Biana.

Fuck. Ae can’t figure out that I am who I am. That isn’t a conversation that’ll end well. That’s the kind of conversation that’ll put aer in more danger than ae already gets aerself into on a regular basis.

“So…um…hi?” ae whispers.

With the amount of adrenaline running through Marella’s body, it’s nothing short of a miracle that fi remembers to turn on fire voice scrambler. Because Biana recognizing fire voice would be real freaking bad.

“...hi?”

“How are you doing today?” Biana asks shakily.

“...It’s been kind of a shitty day, not gonna lie. How’s your day been?”

Biana shrugs slightly. “So-so.”

An awkward silence stretches between the two of them until Biana smiles slightly and says, “I’m Biana. Nice to meet you. I’d reach for a handshake…but…you know…”

“You can call me Aurora Irae. But you probably already knew that, judging from the whole outfit,” Marella says, using fire alter ego’s name.

“Also the knife,” Biana smirks. “So, yeah, I suspected. Although the news has been calling you Aurora Ignis.”

“I know. I’ve tried to fix it. Several times. The news has decided that a serial arsonist such as myself should have the Latin word for fire in their name. But I think I know my own name. Since I was the one that picked it. So it’s irae. I-r-a-e.”

“Pronoun pun. I love.”

Marella smiles behind the mask, glad it conceals fire true expression. Fi makes a conscious decision to ask, “What?”

“Nevermind.” Biana pauses before switching to an entirely different track. “Is it related to the dies irae leitmotif at all?”

The dies irae, where the ‘dies’ part is two syllables because Latin, is a super famous bit of music--just four notes, which are a minor second, and then a minor third. With that kind of minor key influence, even without translating the entire poem, you can kind of tell that it isn’t the happiest leitmotif you’re ever going to find.

It often is used to represent death, and it’s in everything from Star Wars, to The Lion King, to the sound Elsa is hearing in like the entire, like, first half of Frozen 2 to an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Marella half-listened to.

If you want to know what it sounds like, “Making Christmas” from The Nightmare Before Christmas, is heavily drawn from the dies irae. As in the part where they say “Making Christmas” is the dies irae.

So if you ever hear some bit of music that sounds like “Making Christmas,” it could very well be an intentional use of the dies irae, and you should be looking for the death it’s foreshadowing.

If that doesn’t make it clear enough, the answer is yes. “Finally. Someone has culture. Have you played an instrument by any chance?” Marella asks, knowing full well that ae has.

“Yeah, viola for--wait, how many years? Since 4th grade. Seven-ish years. Close enough. You?”

“Like, maybe a year of clarinet. And then YouTube music theory channels that I can barely understand.” fi answers, with three years of clarinet under fire belt.

“You seem like a clarinet.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, just a vibe. You seem like you’d play clarinet.”

How the hell do you get that, Bi?

Marella pulls the knife just a hair back, away from Biana’s throat, enough to keep up appearances, but now that fi’s stopped shaking, fi doesn’t want to accidentally slit aer throat.

“Trust me, after dealing with instrument people, you start to give off a vibe. Why else would all the trumpets be arrogant arseholes?”

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

Biana laughs, and Marella’s stomach fills with familiar butterflies. “You’re not wrong. It’s like an instrumental gaydar. Wonder if it’s connected to my actual one.”

“Biana, a word of advice. Don’t tell the person with the knife know that you’re queer. What would you have done if I was homophobic?”

“Considering I don’t have a new hole in my neck, I’m pretty sure I’m okay.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

“Now I am!” Marella says, barely holding fireself back from revealing fire identity, because this is not okay. Fi also puts down the knife.

“Well, don’t. No reason to worry.”

There are a few obvious tells that Bi is thinking about Alden, and that is one of the most common one.

I’m so glad this mask hides any expression I might have. Because I’m ready to beat Alden’s ass and Bi doesn’t need to know that.

“Then why don’t I believe you?”

“Probably because you have to be paranoid enough to hold me at knifepoint.”

“Why did you sneak in here anyway?”

“My friends disproportionately enjoy daring me to break into places. It’s a gift and a curse. Been a while since I got caught. I honestly didn’t know you were here. Just thought it was your average abandoned warehouse.”

“Well, that’s why I picked it so that’s nice…I guess.”

Biana laughs. “You sound like my girlfriend.”

Oh, great. Forgot to disguise speech patterns. How am I supposed to remember that?

“We talked about this. I still have a knife. Don’t give me any personal details, if you can possibly help it. Because you don’t want questionably trustworthy people to be able to track you and the people you care about down.”

“I can protect myself, thanks.”

“Oh, Biana, how I wish I could believe that.”

“I’m tougher than I look.”

“You go on believing that,” Marella mutters.

“Hey, at least I don’t haven’t sent Alden Vacker a three page rant he because made some homophobic tweets…as much as I want to.”

“The news found out about that? Stars.”

“I really don’t know how they found out…it may or may not have been leaked by his daughtaer.” Biana smirks. “And they’ve decided you’re straightn’t, which just means they’re calling you gay until further notice. Because they don’t know any other terms.”

“Of course they did. But they were kind of right for once. I’m gay as hell. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t include that in your police report. I don’t need to piss off the homophobes more than I already do.”

“But pissing off the homophobes is fun…Also who said anything about a police report?"

“I’m pretty sure holding someone at knifepoint is some felony or another. And then there’s the whole arson thing but that’s whatever.”

“Um, so does breaking and entering, if I’m not mistaken. Or trespassing or whatever I’m doing here.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Marella says, closing the pocket knife. If Bi wanted to run away, ae would have already.

“Thanks,” ae says sarcastically.

“You’re welcome,” fi replies, just as sarcastically.

“So does that mean I can…” Bi gestures towards the door.

“As long as you don’t tell anyone where I am. If you do, I will find you and slit your throat. And don’t try to find a legal loophole out of it like a politician.”

“Except for when it accidentally legalizes arson for people who don’t exclusively use binary pronouns.”

Marella stops. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, in the US’s arson laws, it explicitly uses ‘he or she’ blah blah blah I don’t really care about the rest.”

“Is that why the news is so determined to use he/him for me? Because I have done my absolute best to present as nonbinary and yet here we are.”

“May I ask what you’d like pronoun-wise for my mental dictionary then?”

“I guess they/them works. Gender is yucky.”

Biana laughs, making fi’s heart flutter. They’ve been dating for months now and it still won’t stop with that.

“That’s the most correct thing I’ve heard all week. And maybe try looking into neopronouns if the trinary doesn’t feel like it fits.”

Marella nods, saying, “I will,” knowing full well that fi’d love to use fi/fire pronouns but that just doesn’t seem feasible. Aurora Irae can’t know about neopronouns before today, because that’s much too small of a community, so it’d be too easy to find fire from there, and Marella can’t just use fi/fire while there’s a serial arsonist running around.

“Alright. Then I guess I’ll see you never.”

“Bye. Remember, you better not tell anyone about this place.”

Biana turns to leave before whipping back around again. “Wait, one more thing. You remember Alden, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“When he gets caught and then inevitably pardoned for tax evasion or something, put him on your list.”

Oh, great, Biana is trying to make an arsonist murder aer father. I knew their relationship was bad but holy fuck.

“Okay.”

“He’s a horrible, queerphobic bast--wait, you agreed?”

“Yeah, sure, why not? Small price to pay for security. Plus, he fits my business model.”

Biana smiles amusedly. “Business model?”

“Business model, modus operandi, same thing.”

Biana snorts. “I don’t think I’ve got anything else, so bye!” Ae walks backward, waving, and Marella spends the entire time worrying that ae’s gonna trip on something and hurt aerself, but ae somehow avoids all of the rubble that Marella likes to think of as interior decor.

It’s what makes aer so good at being in places ae shouldn’t be.

Fi waves halfheartedly, making sure Biana gets off fire property before sighing and climbing back downstairs.

As the adrenaline fades, the nerves in fire shoulder that fi’d been ignoring throw a fit, and peeling fire jacket off is more painful than earlier, with even more semi-dried blood fusing fire to fire jacket.

Fi finishes patching fireself up as best as fi can before beginning to pack up fire meager belongings that get left here unattended.

Yes, Marella trusts Biana, but that doesn’t mean Aurora Irae can.

And if ae doesn’t hold up aer end of the bargain, there’s no telling how severe the fallout will be.

It’s morning before fi knows it. Marella sighs as fi watches the sunrise, already mapping a mental route to the nearest coffeeshop.

It’s a jumble of emotions as Marella throws fire signature accelerant, designed to burn bright yellow with just a dusting of sodium--fi didn’t get to use it last night because of outside factors--and it wipes away any trace that fi’d ever been here.

There’s plenty of other abandoned buildings out there, fi tells fireself as fi watches the flames consume fire warehouse.

Marella is almost in a trance until reality comes back to slap fire in the face, and fi takes off running towards fire high school, with not nearly enough time to be on time to fire first class.

Don’t you people know that I have to go real estate shopping later today? I don’t have time for this much homework, Marella thinks bitterly, joining her friends in the hallway, who have already started joking about nothing, per usual.

But, it’s nice to have this normal high school experience sometimes, especially after last night.

“Bi, do you think you can maybe help me?” Keefe asks, causing Biana to sigh heavily.

“What’s your idea this time?"

It shrugs. “Just a little something for Principal Alina. I need you to break into her office for me.”

Biana, just like everyone else here, knows that this isn’t the whole story, but has given up fighting a long time ago. “Text me the details. I don’t have enough energy to argue.”

“You sleep alright?” Marella asks.

Ae yawns, and Marella notices the dark circles under aer eyes. “Yeah. I just had more homework than I thought.”

Liar. You didn’t have any homework. You told me yourself. I should be proud that you’re willing to lie for Aurora Irae.

Did you lose sleep thinking about them? As your girlfriend, that’s disappointing but understandable.

Maruca blows hir nose for the several hundredth time today. “I’ve probably just infected aer. You might be next.” Hir parents are convinced it’s just allergies. But we've collectively decided it’s one heck of a head cold. Antihistamines aren’t helping.

“Is that a threat?” Stina asks, smirking.

“Do you want it to be?” Ze looks at her, raising an eyebrow.

The others just collectively ignore the fact that they’ve been queerplatonically flirting for months now and yet, somehow, they’re still ignorant of what’s going on between them. So everybody willfully ignores it.

It’s not like you can tell either of them what they’re too oblivious to see.

Linh saves everyone, asking, “Wait, Bi, didn’t we send you off on a mission last night?”

Before ae can respond, Fitz joins the group, interrupting, “Yes, you did. And that warehouse was targeted by Aurora Ignis this morning. You should be lucky you weren’t in there. It’s all over the local news.”

“Damn,” Keefe mutters, not-so-discreetly watching its best friend’s ass as he walks away. It’s anyone’s guess where its statement applies.

“Anything interesting happen while you were there?” Marella asks, choosing to ignore Keefe. If you can’t tell, there’s kind of a trend here.

Biana swallows hard, and Marella sees a fine line on aer throat from last night’s events.

Worse case scenario, it’ll blend right into the car crash scars covering aer entire left side from a few years ago.

“Nope,” ae answers, voice shaking only slightly. If anyone notices it, they don’t point it out.

“Aw, that’s disappointing.” Keefe says. “Fitzy could use a prompt for hine creative writing class.”

Linh looks at it. “We’re in the middle of our poetry unit.”

“Hey, I don’t know how that works. Eddie Poe could probably figure it out.”

Fae shudders. “That’s because Poe is a motherfucking genius.”

“What would Bangs Boy think about your language, young laedy?"

“Tam is your boyfriend and swears like a sailor. Don’t even try that with me.”

“Uh, we’re on a break right now, and the fact that you don’t know that…my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.”

“I’m already a disappointment to my parents, do you think I care?”

Fae had to go there, didn’t fae?

“And so is everyone here. That doesn’t make you special,” Keefe argues.

Stina interjects, “No, I’m not.”

“Shut up,” Keefe growls, not as angry at it wants to seem like it is.

“Have fun with that. See ya later, bitches,” Stina says, turning away to her next class.

Keefe gets dropped off for its math class that it’s going to inevitably skip one way or another, and then Maruca and Linh get dropped off at their required US history class.

Nobody except for Fitzy wants to take that. And even that’s debatable some days, so you know it’s bad.

All that’s left is Marella and Biana, holding hands as they walk down to the science halls.

“You’re sure nothing happened yesterday, love?” Marella asks.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. No reason to worry.”

That just makes me worry more, you know that, right?

“Wow. So convincing.” Marella replies, piling the sarcasm on thick.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

Marella squeezes aer hand. “I’m always here if you need me. Maybe not in the physical plane and I might miraculously be away from my phone for a millisecond, but, you know, metaphorically.”

Biana just barely smiles, complex emotions that words can’t quite describe etched into every line.

“I’ll see you after class? ‘Cause you can’t get rid of me this easily.”

Marella’s hand slips from Biana’s grasp as she heads into her AP Chem class she regrets taking every single day.

Stars, I’m a horrible person. Ae feels like shit. Because of me and me alone.

But you had to make sure Aurora Irae’s secret was safe.

I guess. But there really isn’t much left to tell anymore.

You don’t know what could end up being your downfall. Your secrets will be safe as long as nobody knows anything.

That’s a really damn lonely way to live. But it’s not like I’ve got any better solutions.

#kotlc #marella redek #marella may #biana vacker #kotlc fanfic #'aurora irae' means 'dawn of wrath' in latin #more details of how i came up with that in the fic #originally marella's character's name was supposed to be nex #which is latin for 'violent death'#so i had to pay homage to that somehow #latin vigilante name it is #i can't seem to avoid going on random fact detours in everything i write #nevertheless im super proud of this #<3 #is this cliche?#probably #do I care?#not in the slightest

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nickgerlich · 1 year

Text

Let’s Be Real

It is easy to think that we have all the social media apps we could ever handle. After all, we have our hands full trying to keep up with Facebook, Insta, TikTok, Twitter, SnapChat, and LinkedIn. But that hasn’t stopped Instagram founders Kevin Systrom and Mike Krieger from launching Artifact (more on that in a future blog), or a former President from creating TruthSocial, and an even wider array of Alt-Right sites like Parler.

And then there’s Alexis Barreyat and Kevin Perreau, who founded the French social media app BeReal in 2020. It didn’t gain much traction during COVID, but has now exploded in growth. It is billed as the most real of social apps, in that it focuses on authenticity. Or so they say. I’ve been watching this one closely since early last Fall, when it first popped on my radar.  

Here’s how it works. Users get a push notification at random times each day, and they have two minutes to shoot and post a photo of them doing whatever it is they are doing right then. The app activates both forward and rear cameras so you get a shot of the person as well as what they are seeing. No filters. No Photoshop or Lightroom. No makeup or fancy clothes. No influencers.  

Just you in the raw.

Of course, we may not always be able to do this within two minutes (I’m looking at all y’all stuck in Dallas traffic right now), so the app allows for late posts, but it duly notes your tardiness. Oh, the shame and indignity.

At a time when all of our other socials are highly curated and feature tweaked images and reels, BeReal is the opposite. It wants to allow our friends and followers to see us living life, not posturing for a paid sponsor.

It’s an interesting idea to say the least, especially given that at least Facebook and Insta indeed had far humbler beginnings free of influencers. I confess that I too have taken to polishing my media before posting. A little Photoshop or Lightroom never did any harm, right? Think digital cosmetics. I can fix any blemish.

Alas, I am not pandering to corporations, as I am not on any payrolls other than the State of Texas. But then again, we do have our personal brands to worry about, too. And given that I am working on some fun travel-related books right now, it can’t hurt. Besides, I really don’t want people to see what I look like before the first two or three cups of coffee.  I

I’m not addicted. I swear.

But while BeReal has enjoyed popularity in the various app stores, I see this as a novelty, much like a Fourth of July bottle rocket. It makes a pretty splash in the sky, and then the embers fall to the ground. I can see people growing weary of being pestered at random times for another $%^&* picture. It’s almost like the app developers assume we are all sitting around doing nothing. Have they never heard of classes? Meetings? Dinner? Airplanes? Anyone?

Then there’s the very real possibility of people’s so-called authenticity being a parade for the very people and products we already see on social media. You’re in Playa del Carmen on the beach, and you get buzzed. Or at a posh movie debut. Driving a Mercedes S-Class. In the fanciest suite at the Barfield in Downtown Amarillo.  

Yeah, that all looks pretty real, doesn’t it? Actually, it looks pretty damn ostentatious to me. No, I am not envious, but in a rush to focus on least common denominators, we must recognize that some people have a much larger denominator to begin with. Those brands would love to be in a big hurry to hop on this bandwagon. Even pedestrian companies like Chipotle have hacked the system by posting promos to their BeReal.

And even though the firm has received a $30 million cash infusion, there is still the most critical of flaws: They have no revenue model. This is Rule #1 for any app or social. You must have a way of making money sooner or later, just like Google and Meta discovered.

If companies are already subverting the game plan, just watch out. It is only going to look more and more like what we have been using all along. Well, that’s as long as BeReal actually bothers to figure out how to sustain itself. All the authenticity in the world won’t pay the bills, and as I have said many times before, you don’t just launch an app out of the goodness of your heart.

Nice try, BeReal. My gut tells me that people don’t want to be real. We buy in to the Looking Glass Self concept, in which our perceptions of ourselves are informed by what we think others think of us.

And…here’s the important part—we try to influence what others think of us. It’s an affirmation feedback loop.   

God knows we love those Likes and Hearts a lot more than any feedback we get for posting our bed head hair.

Dr “Let’s Be Really Real“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #social media #app #BeReal

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years

Note

Hello! I recently follow you and read your writing of DC. I love it, your writing are really good! For a request, i have this idea...

Platonic yandere Damian wayne with twin sister reader. Maybe, when they were kids, he used to be hated her because she was excelent in everything and have a little care and love from Talia. But she really care for his brother and then Ra al-ghul put them to fight among themselves on a cliff to see who was going to be the future leader and in a bad move, they ended up hanging up in the cliff. Then his sister, not wanting to see his brother die, brings him back to the surface and she ends up falling. Damian didn't know how to react and only receive a slap from his mother .

How about, after Damian goes to live with Bruce and being the new Robin, in one of the fights with Slade and his partner, this partner decides to let himself be trapped so that Slade can escape. In the Batcave, they take off the mask to discover that it is their sister, but someone very different, with another personality, cold, somewhat insane, hostile and very intelligent like that, because she was submerged in the Lazarus pit by Slade, who consider as a parent. Maybe Damian will try to reason with her and apologize for what he did to her. She tells him that it is too late and a smoke bomb explodes to reveal that Slade came for his daughter. She, determined, goes with him, but Damian tries to stop her, but is defeated and tells him that he should never have saved him, to see how Damian tears up and before leaving, he laughs and says "I didn't know that demons cry "

it could be possible? Thanks!!

Ukht: Sister in Arabic

Title: Not Again

Talia was surprised when she gave birth to twins. The boy a few minutes sooner than the girl. She was glad as well as they had two lethal weapons instead of one.

Two children with the blood of Talia Al Ghul and The Batman.

There was a boy she named Damian and she name the girl Y/N. She cared for them a short time after they were born then they were cared for mostly by maids.

As they grew older Damian began to despise his younger sister. She was perfect at everything and he was always second best. He believed she got all the love of their mother and grandfather and left him with none.

They were 10 when they were dropped at the top of the tallest mountain on their land and told to fight to determine the next Leader of the League Of Assassins. They were equals. They fought for hours as they each met each attack with one of equal force same with defense. They were bloody and bruised and Y/N couldn’t bare to hurt her brother anymore. But we she was about to give, she didn’t notice how close to the edge they were. The stood facing each other with their feet barely not over the edge but as Damian attack he knocked himself over the edge because he lost balance as he grew angry and let his emotions over ride his training. But as he fell he grabbed onto his sisters leg and she was pulled down with him. The didn’t fall far as they ended hanging onto a small ledge not to far from the top of the mountain.

Y/N knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it is what she was questioning to herself.

She grabbed the rope she had attached to her belt and used one hand to toss it up and luckily for her it landed around a tall rock while the other end flew back down. The two ends of the rope were next to her and she leaned over and attached the rope to Damians belt as he struggled to hold on. He looked over once he felt the weight on his belt and he looked back at her questioningly.

“I love you Damian.” She said as she grabbed onto one end of the rope, pulling Damian up to the top as she used as much of the weight she could to work as a pulley system. She didn’t want him to bed up falling back down so as soon as she saw he was safely to the top, or as safe as you could be on the top of the mountain. She let go.

Damian screamed as he saw his sister fall beneath the clouds to her death, and he couldn’t do anything. He hated her all of his life for reasons she could not control and he didn’t realize that he never triplet hated her until he realized he never had been without her. She patched him up after fights in the middle of the night so he couldn’t protest, gave his pieces of food, tried to show him love but he wouldn’t accept it, not from her.

He regretted it now.

A assassin flew a helicopter up to the mountain with Talia in the back going to collect Damian. Once she arrived and Damian had fought the pain and walked onto the helicopter, Talia slapped him sending him to the floor with a red hand print on his cheek. He wouldn’t cry, never.

They arrived back at the compound and Talia led him to Ra’s. Of course they talked about everything he did wrong then made him practice for 5 hours until it was perfect. After they sent him away to sleep he had nightmares of his sisters death, and how he hated her all those years.

The next day he was sent to live with his father after the league was attacked and Ra’s was killed. His mother handed him off and later on he decided to stay with his father even after he was to be brought back to the league. It had been a few months since then and Batman and Robin were in the middle of a fight with Slade otherwise known as deathstroke. He was a powerful force to be reckoned with. But even worse now, as he had a sidekick.

A fully masked figure wearing fighting gear and knifes strapped to their thigh, not to mention the very sharp Katana they were wielding, it was a difficult task for them both. But Batman dodged a stroke from the blade and the blade hit a gas pipe, as it was about to explode Slade ran off and Batman was about to go follow before she tackled him to the ground. They fought for a good couple seconds before Robin joined the fight and she was knocked out.

Batman and Robin swung out of the warehouse with Batman holding the masked figure as the pipe exploded leaving behind a burning building.

They put her in handcuffs and put her in the back of the batmobile as they drove home.

“Who do you think she is Batman?”

“I’m not sure.”

They drove home in silence, when did Slade get a partner?

Once in the bat cave they tied her to a chair before Alfred fixed up their cuts. The figure began to slowly wake up and she struggled in the chair before settling while staring at the duo.

“Why were you with Slade? A partner? Sidekick? Apprentice?” She doesn’t respond and continued to glare. The Bat stared right back and couldn’t help but think she was very short, just a inch or two below Damian. Her eyes seemed young as well but didn’t hold any innocence.

“You heard him, who are you?!” Damian demanded by Robin put a hand on his shoulder

They still didn’t respond. But, an idea came to mind. If she gave away her identity it would distract them enough for her to initiate a plan.

“Take off my mask Damian and see.” She spoke ominously while they both looked in shock that she knew his identity. He got over it and quickly ripped off her mask and he was staring into eyes alike to his own.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Who is she Damian?”

“He never told you about me?” She asked with a fake point then proceeded to smirk.

“Damian?” Batman questioned further but all domain could do was stare.

“I’m his twin sister.” If there was a time the bat had showed that he was shocked it would have been when he found out about Damian, but this one rivaled it.

“W-What?”

He looked over to Damian but Damian turned away.

“Yep, his little sister only by a few minutes.”

Damian and Bruce took off the masks looked at her. Bruce saw the resemblances, between Damian and her, between her and himself.

Damian knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.

“Forgive me ukht, please forgive me.” Tears gathered in his eyes surprising y/n. Damian crying? That’s not possible.

“Forgive you for what Damian?” Bruce questioned staring at his children.

Y/N had her lips pursed so Damian responded.

“Our mother and grandfather put us against each other in a mountain… it was a fight to the death to determine who would be the heir to the league. We fought for hours before I let me emotions lead and I fell. I grabbed onto y/n and she came down with me. We felt onto a ledge with barely enough room for us to hold on.” Bruce’s eyes are wide and slightly teary. “She grabbed her rope and made a pulley system. I was slipping, she tied it to my belt and jumped, telling me she loved me. Pulling me to the top as she Plummeted down. She fell, or rather let go so I could live.”

“And yet here we are.” She spoke snarky glaring at Damian.

“How are you here then?” Bruce questioned feeling as if he knew the answer. Jason was a standing example.

“You already know Bruce. The Lazarus Pit. Just like how it brought back Robin #2.” She smirked as he glared slightly. Damian glared back at their father as he needed to calm down.

“But did you know something Batman?”

“What is it Y/N?”

“We always have a back up plan.”

With that the wall bursted open and Y/N shook of the robes she had been working away with a small knife. She held up a small tracker she had on her and smirked at their surprise faces. The duo threw on their masks even though their identity’s were already known.

Slade walked in with swords at the ready and he threw one to Y/N.

“Nice to see you.” Slade smirked at her.

“To you as well.”

“Ready to go?” He questioned her ignoring the bat and the bird.

“Ready when you are.” They nodded slightly and

Slade attacked Batman while she got Damian. With the help of a smoke Bomb and their disorientation from the information that she was alive, they were fairly easy to take down. They knocked the duo down to the floor and tied their legs together, just to give them enough time to escape.

“You can’t go! Not again.” Damian yelled with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Wow look at that Slade.”

“What is it Y/N?” He played along as they turns towards the whole in the wall.

“I didn’t know Demons could cry. You learn something new everyday.”

Slade tossed another smoke Bomb into the cave as the last dispersed, distracting Damian and Bruce since they had almost gotten out of the rope, and got far away from the duo.

Damian stared at the hole in the wall in a mix of anger and sadness. Bruce in shock still.

Damian sobbed and fell to the floor in tears.

“Not again.”

~*~

Hopefully you liked it! Sorry it wasn’t too Yandere, I wasn’t sure how to make him a Yandere with this. But I how it was still good. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day! ♡

#damain wayne #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Robin #slade wilson #deathstroke #Damian Wayne sister #Bruce Wayne daughter #lazarus

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sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

Chocolate

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Y/N drunkenly confesses her feelings for George thinking it is actually Fred she’s talking to.

Warning: mentions of alcohol

A/N: I’m having way too much fun writing again, any feedback is always welcomed and if you have any ideas for future one shots let me know :)

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 my first little tag list, my heart ❤️ if anyone else wants to be added, just message me

The Gryffindor common room floor feels like it’s about to take flight with the vibrations from the multiple speakers set up around the room. The Gryffindor quidditch team had won the first game of the year against Slytherin so of course celebrations were in order.

You found herself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor with Alicia and Angelina dancing and singing, no screaming to the music. You jump up on the nearby table taking a big swig of some fire whiskey. You start to swing your hips to the music and continue yelling the lyrics to your favourite song which just started playing. You hear a few people below whistling and cheering you on.

“Yeah! Go Y/N! Woo!” You think it was Angelina calling out, acting as your hype woman.

As the song comes to an end you jump off the table feeling like a rock star. As your feet make contact with the floor you stumble. Your legs seem to give way, maybe it was because of the way you landed but it was most likely because of the amount of alcohol running through your system, you fell to the floor.

“Woah Y/N are you okay?” Alicia was immediately by your side helping you up. You couldn’t control the giggles escaping from your mouth.

“M’ fine babe just need ‘nother drink” your words mixing into each other.

Alicia shakes her head at your drunken state, “I think you need to slow down love. C’mon, come sit down while I get you some water” Alicia guides you over to the couches on the corner of the common room, looking for a free one which isn’t occupied by a couple making out, she spots George sitting alone, perfect she thinks, a mischief glint in her eyes.

“Hey, do you mind watching this one for a minute?” Alicia practically pushes you onto the couch and you might as well be sitting on George’s lap with how close you are to him. The redhead just laughs and nods his head at Alicia who disappears back through the crowd.

The thing with being drunk is your vision tends to get blurry which is exactly what had happened to you, your surroundings becoming fuzzy. Fred and George can be tough to tell apart on a good day so add

some alcohol into the mix and some might find it near impossible. You always prided yourself on the ability to tell the 2 twins apart, noticing subtle differences in their appearance and the way they spoke which helped you realise which one was which. Although the butterflies George never failed to give you when he was in the same room as you, helped you in telling who was who. However right now in this moment you were absolutely certain the redhead sitting next to you was Fred, oh how wrong you were.

“Havin’ a good night then little one?” George says, placing an arm around your shoulder in an attempt to steady your swaying body, maybe using that as an excuse to be close to you.

“Oh loads” you yell over the thumping music, “my foot is kinda sore though, actually ya know what might fix that?” George is too entertained by your drunken rambling to answer. “I think some chocolate will help, don’t ya think chocolate just fixes everything, maybe chocolate has somethin’ magical in it. Don’t you think chocolate is just delicious?” you hiccup, George nods amused.

Your eyes widen as you’re reminded of something “Oh Freddie, I think I know why I love chocolate so much” George doesn’t think he heard you right, did you just call him Fred? He goes to correct you, but you keep talking.

“Chocolate tastes so warm and sweet, it reminds me of Georges eyes, his eyes are so warm and sweet to look at” you say almost dreamingly, George shuts his mouth pretty quickly. “George has the prettiest eyes. I mean he’s got the prettiest everything. His face is like, like it was crafted by angels. And he’s so funny, everything he says makes me smile, I like him so much Freddie.”

George thinks he must be dreaming, surely he hadn’t heard you correctly. You feel your eyes growing heavier by the second, resting your head on the redhead’s shoulder.

“Freddie, promise me you won’t tell George, I couldn’t take it if he doesn’t like me back.” You say curling into his side.

George doesn’t know what to say, part of him wants to tell you that he isn’t actually Fred, that he’s George and he does like you back but the other part of him kind of feels embarrassed he didn’t say anything sooner, so he opts for:

“I’m sure he likes you too.” He doesn’t think you heard it though, judging from the light snores coming from your mouth.

At that point Alicia is back in front of them, thanking George for watching you while she was gone, with a little struggle she is walking you back to your dorm.

~~~

The next morning George is sitting with Lee and Fred in the great hall, spilling everything Y/N said last night.

“I knew she liked you!” Lee exclaims, “like she’s always staring at you during class.”

Fred chuckles “maybe she thought she was staring at me.”

George shoves him in the chest, shaking his head. The tall boy is nervous to see you today. He isn’t sure what he is going to say, George knows he needs to tell you that he feels the same way but a part of him is worried you didn’t actually mean what you said. You were very drunk and drunk people tend to say some random stuff. He doesn’t have much time to dwell over it because he spots you and Angelina walking into the great hall. Your hair is a little crazy, obviously quickly been thrown in a bun and you clearly are sporting a killer hangover but he still thinks you look divine.

“Surprised to see you up so early Y/N, you were very intoxicated last night” Lee laughs as you and Angelina sit down.

You groan, rubbing your eyes “I’m surprised too, I feel like a zombie and my ankle hurts.”

Fred laughs loudly after sending a wink Angelina’s way, “that’s probably from when you jumped off the table after your little dance performance. You went tumbling down. It was hilarious” George whacks his twin over the head, eyeing you slightly as you put some toast on your plate.

“Merlin, I don’t remember that or anything from last night to be honest. It’s all so fuzzy” you mumble as you take a large bite of your toast.

George feels his heart drop a little, although last night you hadn’t realised it was actually him you were talking to, he thought it would be easier to confess his feelings if you actually remember last night, now he was too scared.

~~~

Later that day you and Angelina are back in your dorm room laying on your bed with Alicia talking about previous night.

“What even happened last night? The last thing I remember is dancing and that’s it” you laugh as you flick through a magazine.

“So you don’t remember chatting to George on the couch before passing out? You can thank me for that Y/N, I had the brilliant idea of having George look after you while I went to fetch you some water” Alicia grins.

Alicia and Angelina were the only ones who knew of your major crush on the tall sweet redhead. Many times, they have tried to convince you to just tell George how you feel and even try to meddle themselves.

You furrow your eyebrows, trying to remember if you said anything embarrassing to the boy.

“Huh, are you sure it was George? I swear I was chatting to Fred last night” you chuckle remembering some of your conversation.

Alicia shook her head, “nope it was definitely George, I know that for a fact because when I left to get your water, I passed Fred and Angelina making out” Alicia elbows Angelina’s side who is blushing profusely.

You shrug your shoulders, “well me and George then were having a pretty weird conversation about chocolate actually. I thought it would heal my sore ankle” the girls all giggle as you continue, “it was very random we were talking about chocolate and then…” your voice fades into silence as you remember how that conversation went.

Alicia and Angelina are confused as you leap of the bed and start running out the door, “wait what happened?” you hear Angelina yell as you run out of the room.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, you need to find George. You are beyond embarrassed that you basically confessed your love to George, the whole conversation becoming clearer and clearer in your brain. But you are unsure if you had dreamt the reply Fred, no George had given you as you drifted off to sleep on that couch.

You enter the common room, scanning for a particular redhead who you find sitting on the couch with Fred and Lee. You run up to the group, out of breath.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” you blurt out, feeling very, very nervous.

George break eye contact from whatever he was originally looking at and meets your eyes which are desperately searching for a response “what?” he squeaks out.

Fred and Lee share a look at each other and move from the couch, figuring out that the pair need some privacy although they do continue listening to the conversation from the other end of the common room.

“Last night. On the couch. I told you that I liked you, well, I said I liked George because I thought I was talking to Fred. And then you said ‘I’m sure he likes you too’ so do you? Like me?” you feel like your heart is going to explode and you are well aware of the multiple pairs of eyes staring at yours and Georges exchange which is making you extra scared of the potential rejection.

George nods, not really confident enough to speak right now. What you do next surprises him. If he wasn’t already sitting down, he might have fallen over with the force of you leaping towards him. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. George immediately grips your waist and kisses you back. You can hear some people cheering in the background which makes you smile into the kiss.

You pull away slightly breathless, “that’s good then,” George chuckles and you hear Fred from somewhere behind you say rather loudly to Lee.

“Imagine if she kissed the wrong twin.”

“Shut up Fred” You and George say simultaneously.

#George Weasley #George weasley one shot #George weasley x reader #Fred and george #George weasley fanfic #George Weasley x you #George Weasley Fluff #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley oneshot #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #hp fanfic #hp one shot

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mostlydysfunction · 3 years

Text

From The Stars, Part 9

Summary: Kira moved out of town for isolation and peace and quiet. But that quickly gets turned on its head when a spaceship crash lands not far from her house and a strange creature decides she's its new queen. Luck had never been on Kira's side, but things are going to get a lot worse for her as she's forced into this new role and everything her new alien subject thinks it entails.

Warnings: Lying, shady parents, some hinted at violence at the end.

Authors Note: Again, this has been up on my Ao3 since like February. Link is in my masterlist if you prefer to follow there and get updates sooner. There’s going to be only a couple more parts to this one however, so might not even matter.

MASTERLIST

Kira watches the SUV roll down the hill and into the lake. It’s cloudy, the moon and stars covered, bathing the trees in darkness. Kira’s only light is from the flashlight in her hand, aimed at the SUV currently sinking in the lake. She won’t move until it’s gone under completely, not wanting anyone to see what’s happening.

Two months ago if you had told her she would be standing in the woods in the middle of the night sinking a federal agent’s SUV in the lake to cover up their murder by her alien babies, she would have thought you were insane. But now she felt nothing. Her babies needed to eat and it was just unfortunate that the Feds happened to be the first to show up.

Kira waits until the bubbles have stopped before turning, making her way up the hill and back to the road. It’s a bit of a hike back to her house, the air cold enough she can see her breath fog in front of her. Her mind goes to her children and if they’re warm enough in the barn. Her alien hadn’t shown any signs of minding the cold, but her children were obviously different than him, and she can’t help but wonder if they can tell the temperature difference.

She feels a sense of urgency as she gets closer to her house, hating being apart from her family. They were her family now. Her children, their father. She doesn’t understand the relationship between them, she doesn’t even know if it’s biologically possible for her to love an alien. Humans could feel emotions towards animals, inanimate objects. Emotions including love. Who’s to say it’s not possible to feel the same for an alien lifeform she has no communication with who had forcibly impregnated her with his eggs. Maybe it’s only the oxytocin talking, the immediate motherly instinct she had felt over her babies that was drawing her closer to her alien. Or maybe it was because around him, she felt safe.

Kira opens the door to her barn when she returns to her property, quickly closing it behind her as her babies run up to her. They’re hip-height now, growing faster than she thought possible. All eight of them surround her, bumping her gently with their heads. She smiles down at them, patting them each on their smooth heads. They let out content little cries, warming Kira’s heart. Her alien approaches her, nudging her gently with his own head. She gently strokes its elongated head, leaning against him.

Her eyes drift closed, her brain buzzing with energy. She focuses on it more and finds she can see with her eyes closed. The barn looks distorted like she’s seeing out of a fish-eye lens. The colors are darker, not quite as vibrant with her own eyes, but she can hear every small sound wave bouncing off the walls. She can hear something speaking, not words but a sort of idea in her mind. She can feel her eight babies around her, all of them like strings connected to her mind.

She wants to lose herself in the sensations, bury herself in them, and never come out, but her phone vibrating in her pocket snaps her out of it. She pulls away from her alien, her brain reeling for a moment before she centers herself back on Earth.

“I have to take this. I’ll be back.” She says, backing away from her babies and her alien.

She leaves them in the barn, heading back towards her house. She looks at her phone. She doesn’t want to answer, but she knows she has to.

“Hello?”

“Kira? God, I thought something had happened to you! I was going to come and check on you but...you sounded so sick when we talked last and then you weren’t answering.”

Kira feels a pang of guilt in her chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I was on some heavy meds. It was some kind of viral thing. Wiped me out for a few days. I didn’t even think to look at my phone. I’m doing better now though.”

“That’s good. That’s...really good.”

“Do you want to come over? Catch up a little?”

“Yes. That would be great.”

*********

Kira sets the cups of coffee on the kitchen table before taking a seat. Her dad looks old. Older than the last time she saw him. He’s had something on his mind. She can tell by how messy his hair looks. He would always run his fingers through his hair repeatedly when he was thinking hard. Her mother used to joke he’d go bald from doing it one day. Now that she looked at him, Kira can see his hair is thinning. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks about as bad as she does, but she doesn't think he birthed alien eggs days ago.

“Kira...I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. About you. About this place.”

Kira sips her coffee. It’s scalding but she can’t bring herself to care. She hums in response, letting him continue.

He runs his finger in a circle around the rim of the cup. It’s an old habit. It means bad news. “You’re all alone out here. I shouldn’t have left you out here by yourself. But...your mother...I just couldn’t...”

Kira reaches out, putting a hand over his. It feels strange to her, to touch human skin again. She almost doesn’t like it. “It’s okay. I know.”

Her dad stares into her eyes for a moment, taking her in. “There’s so much she wanted to tell you. She begged me to tell you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t face the truth. I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure you’d believe me.”

Kira frowns, her stomach churning. She doesn't like his words. “Dad...what are you talking about?”

He sighs, taking a long drink of his coffee, staring out the back door. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Right out there. Where the roses are. It used to be hydrangeas before...before you arrived.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I should have told you this years ago Kira...”

“Dad...you’re scaring me.” Kira’s hands are shaking as she sets her coffee cup down.

Her dad turns back to look at her, holding her gaze. “You’re not ours.”

Kira’s body goes cold at his words, a strange feeling running through her. Her whole life she’d been told they were her parents. This was her dad sitting across from her. And now...

“W-What?” She pulls her hands into her lap, squeezing them into fists to stop them from shaking.

“We don’t know where you came from. Well...we sort of knew...” Her dad glances back out at the garden before looking at her again. “Kira...you fell from the sky.”

Kira can’t say anything. None of it was making sense. Her brain was buzzing, churning, his words seeming like a foreign language. Thankfully he doesn’t wait for her to respond.

“It happened almost twenty years ago. It was almost dark. Your mother was outside planting tulips on the other side of the garden. I was making dinner. Grilling, like I used to. Everything was quiet like it gets out here, but then...the sky exploded. Blew the windows out, it was so loud. Came down in a ball of fire right into your mother’s hydrangeas. I thought it was the end of the world for a moment, but then...your mother was always so quick to act. Put the fire out with the garden hose. I thought it was some kind of meteor, but once the flames died, I could see what it was. It was...some sort of space pod. We tried and tried to get it open, see inside. Eventually, we managed to pry it open and inside...You couldn’t have been more than four years old. Teary-eyed and sucking your thumb. You looked so human.”

He runs a hand down his face. Kira can see the tears in his eyes.

“The feds were on us almost immediately. I wanted to turn you over to them, but your mother refused. She knew what would happen to you if we did. So we hid you. Made up some bullshit story. The feds didn’t believe us, but we were insistent.”

Kira’s mind begins to work at high speed. The visits from the feds suddenly didn’t seem so strange anymore.

“You were so human in every way. Almost every way. You never got sick. Kids always got sick but you never did. You could bend metal with your bare hands and you could hear things miles away. Your mother taught you to control it. She was better at that than I was. I made it my job to make you feel as normal as possible. She dealt with all the...strangeness. That’s why when you told me you were sick...I knew something had to be wrong. Something was going on. You’ve never been sick before.”

Kira clenches her fists tighter, taking in her father’s words. She had arrived on Earth in a spaceship? She supposedly had superpowers? He was right in one thing...she had never been sick before. She just thought it was a good immune system. But apparently, it was something else. Something more.

“Kira...please say something.”

“I don’t...” Kira bites her lip, breathing deeply. “You expect me to believe that? That I fell out of the sky in a spaceship and...I’m supposed to be what, Superman?”

“No, it’s...” Her dad sighs, looking down at his coffee. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I wanted your mother to tell you from the beginning but...she thought it would be best...if you thought you were normal...”

Kira stands from the table, unable to sit anymore. “Bullshit. I call bullshit.” She makes her way to the back door, looking out at the roses. The place she supposedly crash-landed on Earth. “You had an affair, didn’t you? I was never my mother’s child and you couldn’t live with that so you made up some bullshit story to hide it! That’s why you couldn’t stay!”

“Kira, you know I would never have...”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” She clenches her fists again, glaring at him. “I don’t know what’s more unbelievable. The story that might be true or that you would spew some bullshit to try and hide something else you did to fuck up.”

“Kira, I loved your mother!” Her father stands from the table, knocking over the chair. “I loved her more than anything. But we couldn’t...” He takes a deep breath. “We tried. We tried so many times. She wanted so badly...but we couldn’t. Then you fell out of the sky like an answer to our prayers.”

Kira feels tears prick behind her eyes. The story is starting to sound not so fake the more she thinks about it. She had an alien hiding in her barn with her babies she had birthed after mating with him. An alien that had crashed to Earth and found her and chosen her. If she was also an alien...it would make her new reality not quite so strange anymore.

“Kira...I’m sorry...”

“I want you to leave.” She says, her voice shaking. She hates it. She turns back to face her dad. “Get out. Go home. Don’t come back here.”

Her father stares at her brokenly for a moment before grabbing his coat and heading towards the door. Kira stays where she is until she hears his car door shut before heading out to the barn. She’s shaking by the time she reaches the door, slipping inside quickly and closing the door.

She takes a few steps into the darkness before dropping to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. She’s overwhelmed, not knowing what to believe or even what to think. If the story was true, then so much of what had happened made perfect sense. But if her dad was lying to her to cover up something else...either way he had lied to her. He had hidden the truth about her for her entire life. She feels anger bubble up inside her.

Her children are by her side in seconds, snuggling up to her. She reaches out to them, touching them, solidifying herself in reality. She should have died. She had carried eight eggs to term and birthed them. She had lost so much blood...too much blood. But here she was, mostly healthy with no medical help. She had never been sick a day in her life. She had managed to tame an alien simply with her presence. She had seen what he was capable of. He could have killed her instantly that night, but something about her had stopped him.

Maybe she was alien.

Kira is on her feet as soon as the barn door slides open. It hits the other side with a slam, the shadow of her father standing in the doorway. Her heart leaps to her throat, the buzzing of her babies loud in her ears.

“Kira...what the hell?”

“Dad...you should have just gone home.”

#xenomorph #alien #xenomorph x human #xenomorph x oc #from the stars

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baku-writes · 3 years

Note

Omgggg I just love the hawks request you did it was amazing and sooo good imma request something similar to it but with DABI/ Touya todoroki can you do where the reader and Touya as children like yk childhood friends both grew up with parents who abused them and one day Touya was about to get beaten badly in training and the reader took it for them ( timeskip when they learnt Touya died they were absolutely sadand almost suicide? And DABI finds her in time and they just talk and confess? <333 :)

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!! Personally, even though Dabi isn't my fav character I love his backstory. I just find it so interesting.

Touya todoroki x gn!reader (mostly children versions so angst and fluff)

TW: Abuse, fake suicide (?), suicidal thoughts, minor bodily injury (mentions of burnt skin, bruises and blood). ANGST, spoilers (?)

Back from the dead

Summary: you and touya todoroki grew up together and were both victims of brutal parenting. However, when you took the punishment for Touya it was the final straw... he wasn't Touya anymore...

Life was difficult.

It always had been.

Your entire life you were told you would be nothing, your parents beat you into submission until no motivation ever sparked within you other than to be what they wanted. They wanted a hero. The next number one, just like allmight. They didn't want another version of endeavor, but a capable young hero who could fight any villain and take them down with ease.

Your parents weren't pro heroes, both were rejected by UA and didn't pass the hero course for any other school. It crushed them. But also drove them to insanity. Everything they had ever worked for in their childhood come crashing down within a short period of their lives, that is how the both met. However, when they had you they saw a sadistic glimmer of hope. Hope that their 'spawn' could do what they couldn't and hope that their child could live out their dream for them.

And so they would train you. And train you. And train you. Until you couldn't walk, talk and sometimes even eat due to exhaustion. But once they realised they could no longer give you any more training boosts due to their lack of experience, they handed you off to the number 2, endeavour. Even though they despised him, if that is what they had to do to make you strong.... they were going to make you do it.

And there you met Touya. A young boy, the same age as you, with aspirations and dreams of becoming the hero his father wanted him to be. However, like your parents, they taught this motivation through sadistic punishments and abusive training.

It was obvious the kid was worn out. Burn scars scorched his arms and even his face. It confused you, but also made you protective of him. You hated how overworked he was. You hated to see him get hurt. Ofcourse you wouldn't tell anyone this, knowing your sadistic parents they would threaten his life to motivate you.

One day it was the usual training. Your parents dropped you off at the number 2's house, with only a single bottle of water and a small dirt kids towel. Your overgrown and unkept hair was in an uncomfortably tight messy bun and your limbs ached from the previous days grueling training.

The day started off as normal: using your quirk until you couldn't do it anymore or collapse from exhaustion. Your quirk is called manipulation, it allows you to manipulate the shapes of near by non living objects, fir example you could make a smooth rock spiky. However, your quirk took a lot of focus and energy, so far you could only use your quirk on objects as large as a vase, you were only young.

Touya was next to you, hot flames spewing from his hands and arms. Singing his skin and burning the near by area... that was until he noticed his dads near by ornament fall and shatter on the ground.

Was this ornament important to endeavor? No. But would he still be pissed? Yes.

Fear immediately clouded Touya's mind....

"Nonononono" his panicked cries began to fill the room as you ran over to him, his cries would only alert endeavour sooner. Not because endeavour would be worried for him, but because endeavour would be angry at whatever he had done.

"Touya calm down. Here, I'll sweep it u-"

You barely had time to look up when you hear the sound of the door slam and angry heavy footsteps head towards the training room. Oh no. He's heard.

The door slammed open and silence cascaded over the room. Everything went still as time began to slow, the only sound you could hear was your heart thumping against your rib cage. Touya was going to get hurt.... and you hated that.

"Touya..... did you break the ornament?" He was calm at first. Some may see this as a good sign, but you two know better. He was going to explode any minute, he was a ticking time bomb waiting to blow.

"DID YOU BREAK THE FUCKING THING?" His voice was raised, his steps heading towards the two of you.

He raised his hand, ready to hit his son until your voice chimed in. Weak and unconfident you stood in front of your chest friend as you spoke.

"It was me... I broke it."

Silence filled the room. The scowl on his face grew deeper as he grabbed onto your arm with force.

"You know what's going to happen. Don't tell a fucking soul, you hear me?"

.....

After around 10 minutes you left the backroom, beaten and bloodied. Ofcourse, it wasn't to a severe extent, but still enough to hurt and be noticed by any possible strangers.

Touya didn't speak to you for the rest of the day.... and the next day training was cancelled...

Touya was dead.... death by fire. It was suicide. You knew it.

(TIME SKIP, CURRENT TIME)

The fall from the bridge seemed welcoming. You had got no where in life, running away from your parents at the age of 16 you found yourself helpless and homeless years later.

Recently, you discovered everything was a lie... Toiya wasn't dead... well the Touya you knew was. But the body if him was alive, just being controlled by a man who goes by the name "Dabi". You didn't want to accept that ot was your friend, you didn't want to accept the fact that you still liked him. He was a murderer... you should hate him. But what you hated even more was how you pitied endeavour, the abuser who tortured you two and lead his own son to 'suicide'. He had changed, but you will never forgive him.

The hopelessness and confusion in your life was too much. You let the cool air whip against your face for the final few minutes, you might as well enjoy the last moments in your life. Ironically, it was peaceful, you never really got peace before. And it had to be your final moments that ot decided to make an appearance.

Now was the time. The time to end this miserable life. The time to end the memories and pain that tormented you for years. You would never have to get hurt again, the pain will just stop and never appear. No one will miss you, your friend is gone and your family was never there. Tears began to pour down your face as you realised your life was nothing but a misery... you never even lived. You just survived...

You took a step closer to the ledge.

Until you felt a harsh tug pull you back and force you onto the concrete floor.

"OW WHAT THE HELL?!"

Your head shot up to glare at who ever pulled you down to the ground. But your blood ran cold as a white haired 5'9 figure covered in burn scars stood in front of you...

"D-dabi."

Shock overwhelmed your system, the tears ran down your face faster as you come face to face with your 'dead' best friend. The boy who abandoned you all those years ago..... the man who you never got over...

"Come on now, you know that's not my name." His smile creased his face and wrinkled his scars a little and his held out his hand to you. Warily, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you up. Should you trust him? He was a murderer.... but he was your friend.....

"Long time no see, huh?" He chuckled a little bit. Was this a fucking normal meeting for him. Is he making a guxking joke out of this.... after he abandoned you all those years ago, just to become some low life thug who murders people. INNOCENT PEOPLE.

"What the fuck? Is this funny to you? You think this is funny? Laughing when you left me all those years ago. Laughing when you become this.... a- a... A monster, a freak who murderers out of revenge? Fuck you."

Anger shot through you. You don't care if this gets you killed, either he will do it or you'll do it yourself. He was a monster. A killer. Everything you ever despised in one person. A person you used to love turned into a revenge crazed maniac who kills the innocent.

Surprise flooded his features as you rammed a finger into his chest.

"YOU KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE. YOU HAVE PROBABLY KILLED FUCKING CHILDREN! Who the hell do you think you are coming to see me after what, 5 to 10 years? FUCK I don't even remember anymore because I don't see the point in keeping track of the days I had to live thinking you died! You're a monster...."

Your figure began to crumple, your tough exterior caving in as your pent up emotions broke free from their cage. You collapsed into his arms as he ran a soothing hand down your back. You were so confused.... you were angry yet happy. Sad at what he had become but proud of his strength to fight back...

"Why did you leave me Touya? I c-could of saved you..."

The cool breeze blew against the two of you as Touya continued running soothing strokes down your back. Suprisingly, he was guilty. But he wasn't here to see you upset. He was here to get you, save you, help you. He was here to take you to the LOV, his new family.

"I know I left, but I'm here now. I'm taking you to the League, but I promise they won't hurt you. They are family, you want to change the world right? Fix society? That's our goal too. We have all been hurt one way or another.... but please. Come with me. Let me make up for the time we have missed out on so far, let me be the man you need."

You looked up at him, your eyes sore from crying and nose running. Slowly, you nodded. His warm embrace was welcoming, the first hug you have had in at least 5 years.

"Okay...... but you have to take ms out on a date first." A small goggle escaped your lips as you expected a disgusted face to scrunch his features.

But instead...

"Sure, but we're heading over to the LOV hide out right now sweetheart."

Surprise filled your features as be smiled again, his smile just like his old self.

....

Maybe the new Touya wasn't that bad... maybe the old Touya never left...

-----------------

Never wrote for Dabi before so I hope this is good enough!!! Sorry if it took a while to write, I've had a few mental health things pop up within the last 2 days but I'm going to be okay <33. Let me know if this is what you wanted 💞💞

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader. The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think. Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms. Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out. Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift. But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters. As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent. It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills.

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off. Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed. “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.” I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space. It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures. Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together. Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting. She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief. Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order. First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix. Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space.

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels. Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone. “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component. The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is. Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily. Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something. I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion. The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom. Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it. Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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band--psycho · 3 years

Text

Bucky Barnes x Reader-A Stupid Plan

Kicking the new year off the right way with this request!

Requested by Anon-I wanted to send in a Bucky imagine. Maybe where you're best friends but you have feelings for each other but don't talk about it. When you finally have the courage to tell him, you see him with another girl at the compound (talking, smiling..) so you leave the scene heartbroken and avoid him since that day. He feels sad without you and misses you so he tries to find a way to show you his feelings and explains that it was a misunderstanding & he only wants you?

Thank you for such an awesome request, I kinda got a bit carried away with this but I hope you enjoy it!

Y/Ns POV

A startled yelp works it’s way up my throat before I can think to stifle it, panic setting in as I find myself suddenly airborn and thrown over a meaty shoulder. My mind was racing with ways to free myself but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t seem to break free from the hold. I tried to recall the moves Bucky had taught me in training, but all the memories seemed to blur into one as I attempted to focus on getting free from the hold. I knew Bucky would kick my ass for such a delayed reaction, but it all comes to a halt at the sound of a familiar throaty chuckle.

“Bucky?!Buck, Really?” Propping myself up as best I can, my grip slips as he loosens his hold, arms tightening just as I slip down to his chest. I felt butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him holding me so close with one arm.

“We spoke about this, doll,” He replies with a lilting tone, the amusement in his eyes clear as day, though I knew him well enough to recognise the underlying reprimand. I was too slow. Bucky was constantly reminding me to always keep my guard up and be prepared for any and all threats.

“What if I was someone else?” He asked, with a tilt of his brow.

“Then I’d have a hell of a lot to say to Tony in regards to his security systems,” I joked, causing him to shake his head as a small smirk graced his face, the familiar banter flowed seamlessly, helping to settle my nerves slightly.

Falling in love was never something I planned on. Least of all with my best friend, not that he knew. It took me a long time to admit to myself that had feelings for Bucky, to some of the people that knew me best it was obvious. Nat and Wanda knew how I felt about Bucky even before I truly did. Anytime they’d mention if I’d brush it off, tell them that they were just imagining things and that we were just friends. Wanda said that that’s how all the best love stories start, not that I paid much attention to what she said. Until things began to change...my feelings for him started to change, whenever I saw him I’d get this warm feeling in my heart, and I found myself worrying about how I looked around him. When I admitted to Nat and Wanda how I felt, they laughed, revealing in their triumph that they were right about how I felt, they said it was obvious by the way I looked at him; they said that they noticed the little twinkle in my eyes that would appear whenever I was with him, whether it be training, talking or just simply being around him. It made me question if he knew.

~~~~~

Third Person POV

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Y/nmuttered running a hand through her hair.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Wanda reassured, putting her arm round Y/n comfortingly,pulling her into a friendly side, making sure not to smudge any of the makeup Nat had decorated her face with.

“You look absolutely stunning, Y/n/n, he’s gonna love you,” Nat encouraged with a warm smile on her face.

“Now c’mon, let’s go,” she continued, extending her hand to Y/n, pulling her up with a small smirk on her face.

“You’ve got this,” Wanda whispered in Y/ns ear as they made their way out of the room to the party.

~~~~~

The party at the compound had only been going for about half an hour before Y/n made a swift exit,retreating back to her room. The water from her eyes mixed with the mascara she was wearing, causing trickles of black tears to stain her face. Y/n thought she had everything figured out, she was going to mingle with the other avengers for a while and then she was going to pull Bucky aside and take him to the terrace and admit her feelings to him...it all sounded so simple and romantic. But what Y/n hadn’t expected was to see another girl with Bucky. She was stunning. Her body was pressed closed to Buckys, one had lightly wrapped around his neck whilst the other stroked up and down his arm, meanwhile Buckys hands were sitting delicately on the girls waist, both of them laughing and smiling at each other in unison. The sight was enough to break Y/ns heart. She couldn’t work out what she hated more, the fact that she didn’t admit her feelings to him sooner or the fact that she let herself fall for him in the first place. They were friends and that’s all they could ever be even if Y/n wanted something more.

~~~~~

Buckys POV

“It’s been three days, Steve,” I sighed, putting his head in his hands. I knew I never should’ve gone along with Starks plan, I should’ve listened to Steve and just been honest with Y/n. I’d love to say that I didn’t know what possessed me to listen to him, but that would’ve been a lie. I know why I listened to Stark instead of Steve because I was scared. Scared of rejection, of ruining our friendship for feelings only I felt. But by following Starks plan I managed to ruin our friendship anyway. The plan was to make her jealous so that she would admit if she felt anything for me...not to make her avoid me. I missed her. I missed everything about her, from our conversations and training sessions to just being around her in a comfortable silence.

“I miss her,” Steve just placed his hand on my shoulder at my words, a solemn smile coming across his face.

“She’s hurt, Buck, you’d be the same if you saw her with another man.” He said simply and I knew he was right...I needed to tell her how I truly felt. I needed to tell her that I loved her and hope that it wasn’t too late.

“Buck, where are you going?”

“To find Y/n/n and tell her how I feel, like I should’ve done,” I explained simply, leaving the room to go and find her.

~~~~~

Third Person POV

Bucky quickly found Y/n, she was training. Releasing all the hurt, anger and sadness in every punch, the tears brimming in her eyes as she thought back to the party. Bucky silently snuck towards her, worried if he announced himself she’d run away and he’d lose his chance. When he was just mere steps away from her, Y/n turned round with her fists still clenched, missing Buckys face by mere inches.

“Sorry,” she muttered out reluctantly, part of her horrified at the fact that she nearly hit him, the other part of her wishing her fist had actually hit him. She went to make a quick exit but was stopped when she felt Buckys hand on her shoulder forcing her to face him.

“Can we talk,” he wasn’t asking a question, he was more pleading with her, begging her to let him explain.

“I don’t think we have a lot to say to each other,” Y/n replied, trying to break free from his grip but to no avail.

“Doll, let me explain,” Bucky began calmly.

“You don’t need to explain anything,”Y/n interjected, cutting him off. The slight venom in her voice catching Bucky off guard.

“You’re with that girl and I’m happy for you, I’m happy that you’re happy because you deserve it but-“

“I’m not with her,” Bucky answered simply, causing Y/ns eyes to grow wide with confusion.

“Wh..what,” Y/n stuttered out, unsure if the words she heard were real.

“It was..it was part of Starks plan to make you jealous, the plan was that you seeing me with that girl would make you jealous and that if you did have any feelings for me you’d admit them,” an ashamed look came upon his face as he uttered those words.

“But instead I ended up losing you,” Bucky breathed out, the sadness washing over him as he let go of her arm, coming to terms with the fact that he’d lost the woman he loved.

“I’m so sorry, doll, I should’ve just told you the truth, I should’ve told you that I love you, you’re the only person I want,” the tears filling his eyes as he declared his true feelings, preparing for rejection. But no words came from Y/n. Instead he felt her soft hand caress his cheek, before rising up slightly on her tiptoes to place a delicate kiss on his lips. As soon as their lips touched both of them felt like there hearts could explode with sheer joy.

“I love you, too” she whispered against his lips, a beaming smile coming across both of their faces at her admission.

(Credit to the gif owner)

Tagging those who may enjoy this fic:

@little-diable @xacatapelsyx @sarcasticallywitty15 @amythedvdhoarder @drabblewithfrannybarnes @chrissquares

#bucky barnes imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes xofc #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #request

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Forbidden Fantasy Part 1 Of 2

Part Two

Words: 3835

Warnings: Sister!cest, Flashback, Smut, Swearing, Choking, Rough Sex, Incest, Dirty Talk, Finger Fucking. Biting. Think That’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester Y/N Winchester, Sam Winchester And Bobby Singer

Pairing: Dean x Sister!Reader

Summary: You are Sam and Dean Winchester’s half sister, after spending some time with your brother’s on a wendigo hunt seeing Dean in his element leaves you with some complicated feelings.

A/N: So, this is my first ever sister!cest fic! I really hope you guys like this, there will be a part two if you are interested in being tagged let me know :)! I really loved writing it, it’s completely filthy as like most of the stuff I write ;) A massive thank you as always to my beta Bee @negans-lucille-tblr for all of her help and support and for convincing me to post this :P Please let me know what you think!

Ko-fi - If you wish to support me, please consider doing so at my ko-fi Page :)

You try to pull your sleeping bag up higher around your shoulders, but you can still feel the cold seeping through the gaping hole in the side. You still had no idea how it had happened. It had been completely fine when you’d checked your supplies earlier and yet, even with Sam and Dean either side of you all you can feel is the cold. Dean shifts closer and you lean back into him, feeling his warm breath against your ear which sends a shiver up your spine. You hear the tell tale signs of a zipper being undone, and you swallow hard when you feel a strong arm wrap around your stomach, strong fingers pushing just under your t-shirt. His fingers are so warm against your cold skin that you can’t help but sigh happily at the feeling.

You know it’s wrong, but it feels so good. You’d been trying to ignore the way you’d started to feel about him for the last few months. All of the secretive looks in Dean’s direction which you hoped had gone unnoticed, you’d tried to pretend you hadn’t seen every time he’d caught you. But there was no ignoring the way that he would smirk at you, he always made sure that he chose times that Sam wasn’t around to make you squirm, every rude or suggestive remark, or suggestive joke. He damn well knew what he was doing and just how to do it.

Today it had only gotten so much worse after seeing him kill that wendigo with the look in his eyes; the pure anger and hatred as the blood splattered all over his face and body. You hated to admit just how sexy and strong he looked, you couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with you. All you could think about was his hands all over you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin.

“You’re freezin’ sweetheart,” he tuts, unzipping his own sleeping bag. “Got a bit of a rip there, you wanna share tonight? Doubt it’s gettin’ any warmer.”

His voice is like liquid fire that burns across your skin, like everything you know you shouldn’t want but he’s everything you need.

“O-Okay,” you mutter quietly, feeling your nerves getting the better of you. You shift out of your sleeping bag a little awkwardly, careful not to wake Sam as you climb in alongside Dean.

“Mmm, much better.” Dean purrs against your skin as he does up the zip on his sleeping bag once more. You stiffen against Dean when Sam moves in his sleep, rolling over so he’s facing the two of you. You’re practically crushed against the older Winchester’s chest when his fingers dance along the waistband of your loose fitting sleep shorts.

“I could see you watching me today sweetheart, you looked even more worked up than the other times that i’ve caught you.” He smirks against your thin t-shirt just above your shoulder blade.

You stiffen in his grip as his fingers push just inside your shorts and panties, his words catching you off guard, clearly you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought.

“Dean what’re you doing?” You ask quietly, voice shaking slightly as you force down the moan that was trying to slip past your lips.

“You only gotta say if you want it to stop. But I don’t think you do want it to stop, do you sweetheart?” Dean chuckles quietly, you bite down on your bottom lip feeling two of his thick fingers move through your slick.

“What about Sam?” You ask just as quietly, gasping a little when he slowly eases those two thick digits inside you. “What if he wakes up and sees us? He’s gonna kill us for this,” you breathe out, voice shaking with the effort of holding back yet another desperate moan.

“Guess you better shut that pretty little mouth then sweetheart. Unless you want Sammy to know just how much this little pussy is dripping for me,” Dean growls behind you, his free hand pushing up inside your t-shirt as he roughly cups your bare breast, and you can feel his hardened length pressing into your ass.

A Week Earlier

That night you had stormed out of your house, after yet another argument with your mother. You wanted to know about your dad, about the other half of your family. Once again she had point blank refused to tell you anything. So you’d left, in search of the only other person you knew of, who knew your father, the man that you had called your uncle for years.

You walked through the salvage yard, which was full of fond memories. You had helped Bobby on a few cars while your mom had worked late back in the day. You knocked on the door, your palms sweating, in hopes that your mother hadn’t realised you’d left yet and warned Bobby that you might be coming. You were a little distracted until you heard his voice.

“Kid what’re you doin’ here?” Bobby questioned with a frown. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and shrugged.

“What? I can’t just come and see my favourite uncle now?” You asked with a wide grin when he stepped out onto the steps.

He chuckled and pulled you into a hug, “does your mom know you’re here?”

You sighed deeply and shook your head, “I just needed a break from her and thought I’d stop by.” You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you inside with him.

“Make yourself at home, I just need to work on a car out back. Wanna come give me a hand when you're settled?”

“Yeah sure, that sounds great,” you grinned and headed into the living room, while Bobby had left you alone. You already knew that he wouldn’t tell you about your father, where he was or what he did for a living, not even his name, you’d overheard Bobby promising your mother years ago that he wouldn’t talk. Luckily you already knew your father’s name, from your years of spying. You waited until you heard the back door close and you’d quickly headed over to his desk.

You felt bad for lying to him, but at the same time you needed this information, you’d waited your entire life for it and you were done waiting. You knew where Bobby kept his address book and luckily the old man was a creature of habit because you found it and located the name you’d been searching for. You pulled out your phone and quickly typed in your father's number and saved it, making sure you put the book back where you had found it.

You felt your adrenaline rushing in your system and you knew you needed to excuse yourself without making him suspicious.

“How’re you getting on out here?” you asked as you leaned against the car beside the one that he’d been working on.

“Not sure you wanna know, this hunk of junk is only fit for scrap,” he grumbled, as he tossed away a part from the car. You couldn’t help but laugh fondly at his reaction.

You paused, what you had been about to say had been stuck on your tongue as a sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of you and Bobby. You didn’t miss the look of worry that had crossed the older man’s face, but you were more confused when two tall, handsome guys stepped out of the car and made their way over to the two of you. You couldn’t help but eye them appreciatively, both were incredibly handsome in their own ways. You shifted awkwardly under their gazes, even more so when the shorter one threw you a panty dropping wink.

“Sam, Dean. What do you boys need now?” Bobby sighed, as he walked over to them and nodded towards his house. You were even more confused when Bobby didn’t introduce you, but you followed along behind them regardless.

You leaned against the kitchen side once you were all in the house and watched with rapt attention as nobody said a word.

“Who are you two?” You asked confused, realising that you’d never seen them before.

The shorter one stuck out his hand and you gently shook it.

“Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam-” He nodded toward the taller guy who was sitting at the table with Bobby and you froze where you stood, with your small hand grasped in the warmth of his. You had noticed the way that Bobby stiffend where he sat when he saw the way you looked between the two guys.

“W-Winchester?” You asked around the lump which had formed in your throat, just barely managing to get your words out.

“Um yeah, why?” Dean asked, he wore a similar expression to everyone else in the room.

“Who’s your dad?” You just about managed to spit out.

“John Winchester. Why?” Sam questioned, both brothers seemed immediately on high alert looking like they were about to run.

You had looked between the two and felt your heart as it hammered in your chest before you looked back at Bobby.

“Are they...?” You couldn’t seem to say the words out loud, but Bobby seemed to catch on.

“Yeah kid, they are. I’m sorry, I shoulda told you sooner.” There was a pause; you felt like your heart was about to explode in your chest and Bobby sighed, seeing the look on the boy's faces.

“Sam and Dean. Meet Y/N. She’s your sister.”

Present Day

You whimper pathetically, doing your best to keep your voice down when Dean starts to slowly thrust his fingers inside you and just as slowly he pulls them out, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He chuckles deep in his chest and it vibrates against your back when you lean back into him further, you start to roll your hips down into his fingers. His rock hard length presses into your ass harder with every subtle roll of your hips, until he pulls his hand free from your t-shirt and roughly grips your hip, stopping your movements.

A shiver rolls through your body when his plump lips press against your ear, and his warm breath ghosts over your cheek. He nips at your ear lobe, and all you can do is let out a tiny moan of his name.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ desperate to come all over your big brother’s fingers. I bet you’d let me fuck your tight little pussy while Sam watched, wouldn’t you?” He practically growls, finally allowing his fingers to speed up. You can hear how wet you are every time his fingers roughly move back inside you.

“Fuck Dean, please. We shouldn’t be doing this, it’s so fucked up. We’re family.” You manage to whine out, slapping a hand over your mouth when Sam shifts in his sleep. You don’t want to admit that Dean’s words are affecting you but every dirty word only brings you closer to the edge.

“You want me to stop then, sis?” Dean asks doubtfully and you can hear the slight laughter in his voice. The way he says that has your pussy fluttering, it’s so fucking wrong, but God does it feel good. He curls his fingers inside you, stroking back forth over the spot inside you that makes you see stars. You gasp, clinging to his wrist, feeling the way the muscles tense and relax quickly the faster his fingers move.

“No, don’t stop.” You whimper, feeling the shame heating your cheeks as you blush hard, but your orgasm is right in sight and you need it so bad, and he feels so good.

“No, of course you don’t.” He chuckles as his thumb starts to move over your clit. Your walls clench around him, you can’t help but moan behind your hand. “I bet you want it bad don’t you? Bet you’ve been thinking about your big brother fucking you nice and hard with my big cock, while you fuck yourself with your fingers, wishing it was me.” His voice and his words are hitting nerve after nerve. He’s right, you’d come on your fingers and your toys so many times screaming out for your eldest brother.

“Gonna stretch this tight little pussy out baby, you won’t want anyone except your big brother. Ain’t nobody good enough for you anyway, you’re mine.”

You throw your head back on his shoulder as another wave of pleasure surges through your body, dropping your hand from your mouth, you turn your head when his lips press against your cheek. You finally lock eyes with him, the green of them just barely visible, almost swallowed by the pupils. The tip of his nose brushes over yours and you can feel his breath against your lips.

“I’m so close Dean, please,” you beg desperately, feeling his hips beginning to rut against your ass.

Dean’s lips crush against yours, and he swallows the needy moan of his name when his fingers apply more pressure to your throbbing clit. Before you know what’s happening your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Dean keeps you held close, helping you to ride out your pleasure until your body is practically vibrating in his arms from it.

Your lungs are burning by the time he pulls back from your lips. Dean gently pulls his fingers out and you whimper at the loss, your pussy still throbbing from your orgasm.

“So pretty when you come for me, little sister,” Dean groans, slipping his fingers between his lips and moaning louder than he should’ve. You snap your head around and watch as Sam turns again, grumbling something under his breath.

“Dean, please you gotta keep quiet, Sam’s gonna hear us.”

There’s a pop as Dean pulls his fingers from his lips, and he chuckles, his fingers tugging at your shorts. “Take these off, sweetheart. I’ll be as loud as I want, we both know you’d love it if Sammy woke up. How about I let him watch while I ruin our little sister? You’d like that, huh?” Dean practically growls against your neck.

You wiggle out of your clothes the best you can, your heart thudding in your chest as the reality starts to set in. Are you really about to fuck your biggest brother? He’s so fucking sexy, full of power and you’re so far past caring, you just want him to own you. He’s getting off on how wrong this is just as much as you are and as fucked up as it is, you don’t care if Sam wakes up and sees Dean fucking you. You feel Dean shift behind you as he pulls down his boxers.

“I fucking love your voice,” you whimper as he hooks the back of your knee into the crook of his elbow, spreading your legs open a little wider, it’s a bit of a stretch with the sleeping bag, but it works. He’s teasing you, with every roll of his hips and roughened grip of his hands, but you get an idea of how you can hopefully get your own way.

“I wanted you to fuck me that first day Dean, even after I found out who you were. I didn’t care.”

The head of Deans cock nudges at your entrance and you clamp a hand over your mouth, stopping the noise that’s about to slip past your lips.

“Of course you didn’t, sweetheart,” Dean groans, finally starting to enter you slowly, the burning stretch of your pussy around his thickness makes your eyes roll back, “you just wanted to be my dirty little cock slut, didn’t you? So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dean growls against the back of your neck when he finally bottoms out.

Dean unzips the sleeping bag, pulling your leg up just a little higher on his elbow and you can feel your pussy clamping around his cock all over again. Gasping you nod, feeling his fingers tight around your thigh.

“Yeah I did, just for you, Dean.” You whine when he pulls his hips back almost all of the way, there’s a pause and you can feel the tip of his cock pulse inside you.

He roughly snaps his hips forward, causing your hand to tighten over your mouth, only just managing to muffle your scream enough. His deep chuckle vibrates against your shoulder where his throat is pressed, his lips press against your ear and you wait on baited breath for him to speak. Your hand falls away from your mouth when his free hand wraps around your throat and you grip his wrist when he starts to thrust into you, deep and slow.

“See that sweetheart, fuckin’ made for me. You’re gonna be walking around tomorrow full of your big brother’s come.” Just the idea of it, paired with his deep voice sends a shiver up your spine.

“Fuck Dean, please I need more. Faster please,” you practically croak when his fingers tighten around your throat.

“Look at you begging for your brother’s cock. Fuck sweetheart, you really are a desperate little whore ain’t you?”

His voice is so deep and rough, you allow yourself to get lost in it, every degrading word only sends more arousal flooding between your legs.

“I love being a whore for my big brother’s cock.” You whine rolling your hips down onto him harder. Dean growls behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hand squeezing around your throat tighter as his hips start to snap against your ass, “God, f-fuck. Dean, gonna come,” you croak out the best you can under his grip. He’s fucking into your dripping hole with such force and speed you feel like every thrust punches the air from your lungs.

“There it is,” Dean chuckles hotly against your ear, releasing your throat from his grip, you suck in a breath of air when he starts roughly rubbing your clit in fast circles. His voice is much quieter this time when he speaks.

“Good girl, you gonna come all over my cock? You know Sammy is awake right? He can hear you moaning like a bitch in heat for me.”

That’s all it takes for your entire body to cease up, as Dean forces a second orgasm from you. Every pulse of your orgasm sends shivers throughout your entire body, but he barely gives you time to recover before he rolls you onto your back. Dean roughly pushes the sleeping bag down your bodies and you look up at him, flushed freckled cheeks and dark eyes and plump pink lips from where he had been biting at them.

You’re so far past caring who hears you or sees you and Dean’s words about Sam watching still echo around your mind. Surely you would know though, right?

You aren’t given much time to think about it, because before you know it, Dean’s pressing your legs back against your chest, the rough grip of his fingers digging into your thighs as he spreads them a little wider.

“Fuck, your tight cunt was made for my cock, little sister,” Dean growls as his cock effortlessly slides back inside you.

“So fucking deep,” you gasp, locking eyes with Dean as he smirks down at you. His thrusts are slow and deep and your pussy clamps down around his cock with every thrust. You wrap your arms around Dean’s neck, dragging your nails over his back as soon as he lowers over you enough, his forehead rests against yours, breath hot against your lips. “I-I can’t Dean,” you gasp trying to squirm away from him, the sensitivity becoming a little too much and you swear your entire body is on fire.

Dean crushes his lips against yours, changing the angle of his hips and you try to arch your back beneath him, no doubt leaving red marks all over his back from the way you’re clinging to him. Your lungs are burning when he finally releases your lips, your head rolls to the side as Dean buries his face in your neck, sucking purple marks into your skin.

You can feel yet another orgasm approaching and squeeze your eyes shut with the intensity of it, your entire body feels like it’s on fire. Dean’s lips move back to your ear, breathing hot and ragged, “fuck i’m close baby girl, I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Your eyes snap open when you hear a second groan and you lock eyes with Sam, his eyes are darker than usual, teeth digging into his bottom lip. You glance down, clearly seeing his hand moving beneath the sleeping bag. Your muscles clamp down harder around Dean’s cock and you all but scream his name as your release hits you.

“Nice of you to join us, little brother,” Dean groans as the pulses of your orgasm make your pussy repeatedly flutter around his cock. He turns his attention to you as your eyes just barely flutter open, and your legs shake against him. You turn your head back to fully focus on your oldest brother.

“You want it sweetheart? Want your big brother’s come inside your tight little cunt?” Dean growls down at you, sweat coating both of your bodies now.

“Yes, please Dean,” you moan out, fluttering your eye lashes up at him as innocently as you can manage while your brother is fucking you.

Just another three powerful thrusts of Dean’s hips has him coming hard, groaning your name against your neck. There’s a moment of silence in the tent, only the sounds of all of you breathing heavily. Dean pushes up on his arms and you whimper as he gently eases his cock free and rolls onto his back.

“Fuck that was hot,” Sam chuckles from nowhere and you turn to look at him as Dean’s arm wraps around your stomach, fingers gently tracing against your skin.

“Such a fucking perv, Sammy. Take it you enjoyed the show?” Dean laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Well I guess my invite got lost, huh baby sister?” Sam asks, locking eyes with you once more.

You know you’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat in your cheeks but the way he’s looking at you is so similar to the way Dean had been watching you the last few days.

“It wasn’t really planned.” You try and defend the situation, not really sure why.

“Guess you need to make it up to him really soon, sweetheart. Would you like that? You wanna fuck Sammy too?” Dean asks huskily, lips pressed against your ear. You swallow hard, your throat really dry when you realise you really do want that. “Of course you do baby, such a little whore for your big brothers’ cocks.”

You clamp your thighs together hearing Dean’s words, watching the smirk pulling at Sam’s lips when you lick your own. You feel a surge of confidence rush through you. “I guess it’s only fair.”

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x sister #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #dean and sam winchester #dean and sam #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #Supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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the-silentium · 3 years

Text

A story of shirts

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - The survivor - Part 4 - Epilogue

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 2774 words

Warnings: TESTOSTERONE.

A/N: Reader’s native language is *roll drum* French! Really original, I know! Translations will be at the end of the chapter ~

Taglist: @haloangel391

"You gonna eat that?" Wrecker asked from your right, his chubby pointer finger signaling to your half-eaten piece of bread.

"Yeah." You confirmed, taking more of the ration pack, reaching for the bread to illustrate.

"Too bad." He stole the piece before you got a hold of it, hurrying to stuff it in his mouth as soon as you reached forward to take it back.

"Wreck! It was mine!" You whined, hitting his shoulder multiple times in retaliation.

"Cut it out." Hunter called from his spot on the other side of the fire, shooting the both of you an unimpressed glance over his water canteen.

"But he-!" You cut yourself, not wanting to pout like a baby, instead taking a deep breath in and planning your revenge like a petulant child.

You've been with the Batchers for a good year, flying them around different systems, perfecting your flying skills as well as developing some basic medical ones to help them when needed.

So far, no one from the GAR noticed that you were a fraud among the army, letting you enough time to read about the GAR and become more familiar with the whole system and chain of command. You had now all the knowledge necessary to keep the lie going without a hitch. Hell, even Cody never connected the dots.

Over time the relationships between you and each of the boys improved to the point where Wrecker would call you his vod'ika and you'd call him your frangin.

Tech exploited his extended knowledge to gain a serious advantage over his brothers once a month. He would generously share his secret stash of candies with you whenever the first day of your period started (you were sure he did that to stay in your good favors and keep your irritation away from himself - which was working, fortunately for him).

Crosshair would share some of his precious secrets blackmails so you could use them when the others were being annoying shits and kindly taught you how to properly shoot with blasters so you could defend yourself better.

Hunter used you as his personal enhanced senses painkiller, meaning that he'd requisition you for an hour when his head felt like it was on the verge of exploding from overstimulation, sit on the floor facing you, lean his head on your chest and listen to you singing a soft lullaby in your native tongue.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Wrecker getting up from his seat on the ground beside you to get to the ship, passing right behind you to get to his destination. Swiftly, you straightened your hand, turned around and pushed the back of his knee forward to bend it with ease.

Smirking, you admired your handy work when Wrecker yelped in surprise that his knee just gave up underneath him and crashed to the ground.

You laughed wholeheartedly, covering Crosshair's snickers who watched you the whole time because he knew you'd serve his brother a good payback for taking your precious food.

"You want to fight vod'ika?" Wrecker asked jokingly from his kneeled position a few feet away.

"Bring it on frangin!" You replied, pushing your dry rations down your throat with a big gulp of water. That was something else that took some time to get used to. Tasteless water meant good water. Don't spit the good water.

"Here we go again." Sighed Tech, rolling his eyes at banter.

"Don't be a grinch, Tech. That's Crosshair's role." You flicked his shoulder and ignored Cross glare to get up and meet the big man who instantly went to poke your side.

He'd learned his lesson a while ago when he punched your shoulder playfully and let you a gigantic bruise on your skin that lasted for weeks. Hunter genuinely thought that he'd hit you hard (he did, but Wrecker was excited, so you weren't mad) leading to the 'no hitting your teammates' rule. Wrecker felt bad for a while but soon you got him to cheer up and instead of fake fights, you'd do poking fights.

Jumping to the side, you moved your foot behind his knee to repeat your previous trick, effectively making him fall on one knee and pushed him on his back with all your strength.

As soon as he was on his back you poked his stomach, not too hard to make him sick, he just ate after all, but enough to mark your point.

"That's for my bread!" You laughed, dodging his hands trying to grasp yours to stop you from assaulting his abdomen.

He finally got a grab of your wrists, joined them in one of his hands and attacked your sides with his free hand, poking to the right places to have you yelp and trash around.

"Stop! Stop!" You shrieked, pulling on your arms to free them.

"As you wish." He grinned, opening his hand when you pulled with all your might, your elbows hitting your own abdomen and emptying your lungs from their precious air.

You groaned for a few seconds, recovering from the blow sprawled over Wrecker's chest unceremoniously. His laugh resonated through your body, the vibrations shaking your bones and making your teeth clash together.

"Still wanna fight?" He teased, head lifted from the ground to meet your unimpressed gaze.

"Enough for tonight." Hunter cut you off as you opened your mouth to sass him back.

Closing your mouth without another word, you rolled your eyes and got to your feet, following Wrecker inside the ship to retrieve an extra layer to keep you comfortable under the stars.

You walked past Wrecker who stopped at the fresher, to enter the barracks to rummage under your pillow for Hunter's top blacks he threw at you the night prior.

He noticed that you often stole his blacks whenever you felt cold at night in the ship, sliding under the fabric only when you thought they were asleep. You always made sure to replace it before he woke up, always neatly folded like it never left. But he knew. Your scent lingered on the fabric, a fact you forgot to think about, not that he minded. After a couple of times, he started to simply throw the blacks at your face before laying down on his bed. He knew you never got used to the cold of space, your skin remembering the constant warmth of the jungle, letting you vulnerable to any change of temperature.

You slipped the blacks over your head, the fabric covering your three-quarter sleeve shirt without a hitch and offering you the extra warmth needed for you to be able to find sleep instead of chattering teeth for the whole night.

Now ready to go out and bury yourself under your blanket near the fire, you walked out with a pep in your step, eager to lay down and relax for the remaining hours before a new assignment arrived and forced you all away on some dangerous mission.

"Acceptin' the markin'?" Wrecker appeared from the fresher, wiping his hands on his pants.

"What?" You stopped, confused at his question. Did you have ink on your face or something?

"He means this." Crosshair answered for his brother, walking further into the ship to pinch the shoulder of the blacks on his way to his bunk where he retrieved an extra blanket for himself.

"What about it?"

"You're only wearin' Hunter's." He remarked, toothpick dancing between his lips.

"Wrecker's are way too big and you'd strangle me with the sleeves if I took yours." You pointed out, a hand moving to your hip. What was his point?

"Why not Tech's?" He approached closer, clearly trying to intimidate you. It may have worked in the beginning but this era was long gone.

"Last time I did he started hiding them so I wouldn't do it again. What is this about?" The two of them shared a look and you knew they had information you didn't, and the mere idea of it made your heart speed up a bit.

"It wasn't Tech who hid them." Crosshair faced you again, his arms crossing at his chest, the blanket folded over one of his arms. "It was Hunter."

It took you seconds to connect the dot and make sense of everything. Hunter started throwing you his blacks the night after you borrowed Tech's and after that, you couldn't find his anywhere again. You'd accepted the gesture and never questioned it afterward, simply thinking that he cared about your sleeping habits or something.

He did care. But for a totally different reason.

"He's jealous." You whispered, eyes widening to Crosshair's delight.

At the back of your mind, a part of you was melting, the sergeant's possessiveness flattering you to no end, although another part of you found it was stupid to be jealous of his brother. You noted to talk to him about that later, but you were sure that the subject would arise rather sooner than later if the mischievous glint in the sniper's eyes was anything to go by.

"He is. So you'll wear this instead." He took a top of his blacks from within the blanket and shoved it onto your chest until you picked it up.

"Your blacks? Wait. Are you angry at him or somethin'?" You eyed the fabric in your hands, rolling the hem between your fingers. This wasn't a good idea. There were ulterior motives to his actions. Always.

"Just wanna see him boilin'." He replied, rolling his head on the side a bit.

"You wanna call him on his bullshit." You pointed out, one eyebrow slowly lifting in the air, unimpressed.

He didn't respond but his smirk told you enough, and the longer he held your gaze, the wider the grin creeping its way onto your lips became. Yes, you had feelings for the dark-haired clone, but you were fundamentally a prankster. Always in for a good laugh. Plus, what problems can a shirt do? It's a shirt!

You removed Hunter's blacks, keeping a hold of your undershirt so you wouldn't show too much to your brothers and quickly slipped into the new shirt. Sadly, the sleeves were a bit tight so you had to adjust your undershirt sleeves but you manage to replace them easily.

You rolled Hunter's black into a ball and throw it onto your bed.

"Don't be mean." You threatened Crosshair with a finger under his chin.

"And you don't drool all over it." He took his toothpick from his lips to poke your fingers with it. You hissed and he threw it away.

You walked out with Cross at your side, Wrecker choosing to walk before you so you would all be close enough to see the shift in Hunter's expression. If the boys were right, that is.

Unfortunately, Hunter seemed too engrossed in his conversation with Tech to notice your shirt so as soon as you all sat onto your respective blankets, yours placed between Wrecker's and Tech's, you leaned slightly forward toward Crosshair.

"Thanks for the shirt Cross!" You smiled at him.

In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Hunter straighten, head moving to you despite Tech still addressing him. Cross grunted in acknowledgment, already watching Hunter and was clearly enjoying what he saw.

Your eyes moved to the sergeant's, who was now deeply frowning, too concentrated on analyzing your shirt that he didn't notice the four pairs of eyes scrutinizing his face, three playful, one confused.

"What's wrong?" Tech asked, head-turning to you to see what disturbed him that much. As soon as his eyes fell on you he knew. And you felt stupid for being the last one to notice that this was happening. "Ah." That you've been stupid enough to let yourself fall into a territorial fight.

"Not to your liking, Sarge?" Crosshair sassed, enjoying the tightness in his brother's jaw.

You started to feal really bad. And confused. Was Crosshair really interested in you too? You knew Hunter cared about you, the kisses, the hugs, the moments of vulnerability shared with one another, they all told you that you meant something more. But Crosshair’s behavior really started to contradict everything you thought you knew about him.

"What's that?" He turned to confront his brother, catching on to the fact that he'd been played as soon as he registered the smugness coating Crosshair's face.

"Cut the crap. 's just a shirt." He rolled his eyes at Hunter's barely concealed annoyance. But it wasn't just a shirt. Not to them.

It started to dawn on you that this was a terrible idea and that you've been played and that- oh shit Hunter's fingers closed to form a fist entangled in his blanket.

"Stop right there." You hurried to cut Hunter's words that you just knew would start a bickering war. You had to stop it before it could deteriorate to something bad because you didn't trust Crosshair to not put oil on the fire and hit every single one of his brother's nerves. To top it all, he was the one right next to Hunter. This was getting dangerous.

" 'm not wearin' anyone's shirt."

You removed the blacks, ignoring the concert of grumbles telling you not to, rolled it in a ball, switched the ball with Tech's and used it as your personal pillow. You laid down on your back and pulled the blanket tightly around yourself, eying the stars above like you used to on Fors.

You seemed to have done the right thing, because the rest followed your example, Tech's head burying itself in his new pillow inches from yours. A yelp from Crosshair soon followed by a smack in retaliation made you sigh, effectively cutting short their childish behaviors.

It took a couple of minutes until the sergeant heard what he was waiting for, a soft clattering muffled by the blanket covering your mouth, the sound of your hands moving up and down your arms in hope of creating warmth and your irregular breathing that you controlled enough to keep it down but not enough to keep it steady.

The boys had fallen asleep, Wrecker's snores echoing between the trees around, Crosshair's and Tech's soft regular breathings were easy to distinguish.

"Y/N." He called softly to not wake his brothers, his eyes already on your subtly shaking form. "I know you're cold."

You turned your head in his direction, frowning.

"So? I won't get the shirt back on." You whispered, gaze moving to Tech to make sure he was still sleeping.

"Good. C'mere." He lifted the corner of his blanket, to which you raised an eyebrow.

"Sharing your blanket to prove yourself better, now?"

"Just…" He pointed to the spot next to him with his head. "C'mere."

You huffed while sitting up to look around, the three remaining clones were still out, their peaceful face illuminated by the dying fire in the center of your circle. Carefully, you got up with the fabric tightly wrapped around your shoulders, stepping over Tech's hand and reached the offered spot.

Immediately you felt the warmth radiating off him and like a moth to a flame, you wrapped yourself around him without shame because you needed this. And because it was so unfair that he could regulate his temperature while you couldn't, so you decided that he had to share.

Clearly, he didn't mind, his arms sneaking around your waist to keep you close and offer you more of his body heat, his head leaning down a bit to breathe in your bewitching smell and place a kiss onto your hair just as you snuggled closer and leaned your head onto his chest, one of your legs sneaking between his to get more comfortable.

"Better?" His chest rose and downed slowly, unlike the beating of his heart beneath your fingertips. This was the first time you had this much contact with each other, the feeling not lost on either of you.

"Yeah." You moved your head to place a kiss under his jaw and reposition yourself. "Didn't know he even liked me." You whispered, finger moving in circles over his heart, asking yourself how did this happen?

"He liked you after our first time on Fors. He was a goner after the second time." He explained truthfully, the memory of the second trip onto this godforsaken planet made him shiver in dread. How people could live in this hell was beyond his comprehension.

You noticed his reaction and automatically reached up to dissipate the trauma with a slow movement of your fingers over his cheeks.

"But I was there first." He smirked, arms tightening around you somewhat.

"Don't start." You smacked his chest softly to which he quietly laughed.

Frangin = Brother

Next part here: A story of having each other’s back

#bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #clone force 99 #star wars #clone wars #murphy day

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themetaphorgirl · 3 years

Note

alright but can i request a patron saint hotch loopy on day quill one shot?? bc i would love to read that even if it takes like 3 years to get around to it 🥺🥺🥺

did I get in the mood to write something cuddly and kind of silly with lots of Alex and Aaron: The Wonder Twins vibes???

yes I did. also I wrote over half of this on my phone during my break at work.

----------

“...so when you think about it colloquially, it’s perfectly acceptable to refer to the monster as Frankenstein, so-“

Alex moved Spencer’s glass of orange juice out of the way before he could knock it over with an overenthusiastic wave of his hand. “JJ, what are you doing?” she asked, exasperated.

JJ reached into her cereal bowl, picked up a couple of pieces, and tossed it into an empty mug. “There’s too much cereal in my lucky charms, I only wanted the marshmallows,” she said.

“You can’t eat just marshmallows, Jennifer.”

“I’m not. I got donuts too.”

“Hotch wasn’t here to stop her,” Emily snickered.

Alex sighed. “Where is Hotchner?” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“He said he slept through his alarm and he’d meet us here,” Derek said, stabbing his fork into a hashbrown.

“That’s also not like Hotch,” Alex said. She caught Spencer before he could topple out of his chair onto the floor. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re this enthusiastic at seven in the morning, but please sit down.”

Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit on his bottom. “I got the wrong juice, I don’t like this kind,” he said. “I got the kind with pulp.”

“Why didn’t you get the kind you like?” Alex asked.

“Hotch gets it for me because I’m too short to see the labels. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Alex pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket. “He hasn’t texted me or the group chat,” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Should we be worried? I feel like we should be worried,” Penelope said.

“We don’t need to worry,” Alex said. “Spencer, what are you doing?”

“Getting the pulp out of my juice. I shouldn’t have to chew juice.”

“Please put the spoon down.”

“I’ll get you juice,” Penelope promised.

“Thank you,” Alex said. “And can you please get something for JJ that isn’t dehydrated marshmallows?”

“I like them.”

“Eat a fruit, Jennifer!”

Derek paused as Penelope left the table. “Uh...we might need to worry about Hotch,” he said.

Alex twisted around in her seat to look behind her. “Oh, fuck,” she sighed.

Hotch’s tie was knotted wrong, leaving one end of the tie dangling by his belt buckle, and his blazer was misbuttoned. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, still sleep-mussed, and his backpack was unzipped. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” He tried to hang his backpack on the empty chair next to Alex but missed completely, sending it crashing to the floor. “Well, shit.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Emily said.

Hotch blinked. “I overslept,” he said, rubbing his ear. “What time is it?”

“Almost time to go to homeroom,” Alex said. “Are you okay?”

He kept rubbing his ear. “Huh?” he said. He sat down heavily next to Alex. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Do I have time to eat?”

JJ slid her mug of cereal over to him. “You can have the rest of my lucky charms,” she offered.

Hotch scooped a handful of dry cereal into his mouth and frowned. “What happened to all the marshmallows?” he asked.

“I ate them.”

“You can have my juice,” Spencer offered.

Hotch reached around Alex, picked up the glass, and took a swig. “Ugh, there’s stuff in it,” he complained. “I don’t want to chew my juice.”

“That’s what I said!” Spencer said.

Alex frowned. “I don’t think you’re okay,” she said. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “Yikes, Aaron. You’re burning up.”

“Hm?” he said. He coughed, a thick sound rattling deep in his chest. “I’m okay. I drank like...half a bottle of DayQuil.”

“I can tell,” she said, poking at the damp orange stain on his uniform shirt. He squinted down at it and frowned. “Also, drinking half a bottle of DayQuil doesn’t mean you’re okay. I think that’s the opposite of okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch said. “I have a test in second period I can’t miss.”

Emily caught his arm across the table. “Stop, stop, stop,” she said. “Do you know you’re about to pour your juice into your cereal?”

Hotch paused long enough for Alex to carefully take the glass out of his hand while he blinked in confusion. “Maybe you should make up the test later,” she suggested.

“No, I can handle a test,” he said. He blinked, then clapped a hand over his face. “Oh, shit. I think I only put one contact in this morning.” He rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye. “Shit. Aw, yikes.”

“You need to go back to bed,” Alex said. “Or the nurse’s office.”

He swatted at her hand. “No, I don’t, Alexandra,” he said. “It’s just a chest cold. Stop treating me like Spencer.”

Spencer scowled. “I think I’m insulted by that,” he said.

Alex put Spencer’s fork back in his hand. “Eat your breakfast,” she said. “Listen, Hotch, I can’t stop you if you want to go to class. But nobody’s going to judge you if you stay in your room and rest.”

Hotch coughed into his elbow. “I’m gonna get a Red Bull,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and nearly knocking it over in the process.

“Oh, he’s definitely sick,” Derek said. “You hear his Virginia accent coming out? He sounds like Colonel Sanders.”

“Don’t worry, Al, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Emily said.

“Thanks,” she said. “Spencer, you have to drink your juice. You and Hotch have no immune systems and if he gets sick, you’re going to get sick, and I can’t deal with both of you coughing up a lung.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said. “Although vitamin C-“

“Drink your juice.”

By the time breakfast was over Alex was confident that Hotch wasn’t going to last the whole day. His cough was deep and persistent, and he kept absentmindedly rubbing his ears. She couldn’t exactly blame him- she’d pulled similar stunts herself when a big test or project was coming up- but this was more than a mild cold. Most likely he’d make it to lunch before he relented.

To her surprise, it was even sooner.

She got to chapel early and pulled out her book to read, but she nearly dropped it when Emily’s voice cut through the soft chatter of the hall.

“Hey, Alex, come get your twin!”

Alex picked up her book and set it back beside her. “For the last time, Emily, stop telling everybody that Hotch and I are twins,” she said. She stopped. “Oh, no.”

Hotch was leaning heavily on Emily’s shoulder, his eyes glazed over. “Hey, I think I need to sit down,” he said.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Emily huffed, struggling under his weight. “You shouldn’t have gone to class in the first place.”

“I had a test,” he said.

Alex crossed her arms. “Yeah?” she said. “How’d that go for you, bubba?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t remember taking the test,” he confessed. “I remember sitting down at my desk and then...everything got kind of blurry.”

Alex sighed. “Please tell me you’re going back to your room to rest,” she said.

“I mean...it’s not that bad.” Hotch said. “I’ve been sicker before.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Emily scanned the chapel doors. “Oh, wow, is that Haley Brooks over there?” she said. “You should go over and say hello. Haley! Hi, Haley!”

“No!” Hotch said. “Jesus, Emily, I don’t want to talk to her right now, I look like shit!”

“Then you should definitely go back to your room before she sees you,” Emily said. She gave him a gentle push towards the back exit doors. “Come on, hurry up.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alex called, but he was out the door already, his still-unzipped backpack dangling off one shoulder.

Emily tilted her head. “I don’t think he heard you,” she said. “He looks like death warmed over through. I’m kind of worried. Which means your spidey-sense must have bypassed tingling and gone straight to exploding.”

“I should have gone with him,” Alex said. “Although I’m not sure I would be able to explain missing classes.”

“Just tell your teachers you have to take care of your brother,” Emily suggested.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know you and Dave keep telling everybody we’re related,” she said. “We’re in different grades. We have different last names.”

“C’mon, it’s fun, you’re the Wonder Twins,” Emily said. She squished Alex’s cheeks and laughed. “You look enough alike to pass for siblings.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Alex said flatly, batting her hand away. “We’d better go sit before chapel starts.”

She kept her phone close through chapel and her third period class. He didn’t text her, but that wasn’t reassuring either. No news wasn’t necessarily good news.

The bell rang at the end of third period, but she hesitated before she started the walk towards the dining hall. She tapped her fingertips against the back of her phone case, and after a moment she typed out a text. Her phone buzzed seconds later with an answer.

Jamie <3

11:26am

yeah I figured youd want to check on him. dont worry about the baby i’ll make sure he eats a vegetable. love you!!!!

Alex felt the back of her neck heat up as she smiled at the screen. The whole love thing was still shiny and new and made little sparks prickle at the nape of her neck.

She slung the strap of her satchel across her shoulder and made the trek across campus to Lincoln House. Hotch had given her a spare key fob- Derek was constantly losing and finding his, resulting in multiple replacements floating around- and she let herself into the quiet lobby. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many people around.

“Ah, Miss Miller. What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall?”

Alex jumped. She was not expecting to see Mr. Gideon standing in the lobby and staring at her. “Checking on my brother, he’s, uh, he’s sick,” she blurted out.

“Oh, the big one or the little one?” he asked.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he said. “Aaron or Spencer?”

“It’s, uh, it’s the big one this time,” she said.

Mr. Gideon nodded sagely. “Your twin,” he said. “Well, go on up. Hope he feels better soon.”

He walked out to his office and closed the door; she sighed heavily. Maybe Emily and Dave were on to something after all.

She made her way up the stairs to the seventh floor and knocked lightly on his closed door. “Hotch?” she called. “It’s Alex. I just wanted to check on you.” He didn’t answer. “Hotch?” She tried the handle. “Oh, of course you locked the door.” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and stuck it in the keyhole.

The lock popped easily after a bit of fiddling and she opened the door. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Hotchner,” she sighed.

His unzipped backpack had dumped half its contents in the middle of the floor when he’d dropped it, along with his uniform blazer and his right shoe. Hotch was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers, his long gangly legs dragging on the floor and his left shoe still on. He was still wearing his uniform and his rarely-worn glasses perched at a crooked angle on his nose, threatening to fall off at any moment as he snored.

“You’re dead to the world, aren’t you, bubba?” she said aloud. She set her satchel and blazer down on Hotch’s desk and sat on the edge of his bed. His breathing was shallow and congested, and his face was flushed red. “Hotch. Hotchner. Wake up for a second.” She pinched him lightly and his eyes shot open. “Hey, good, you’re awake.”

“What the fuck?” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses sideways. “How did you get in here?”

“Picked the lock with a bobby pin,” she said.

He scrunched up his nose. “Like Annie Drew?”

“It’s Nancy Drew, and maybe that’s where I learned it from, I read a lot of mystery novels when I was an impressionable middle schooler,” she said. She tucked her legs underneath her and touched the back of her hand to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hot garbage,” he said. “This cold is kicking my ass.”

“I don’t think you have a cold, bubba, I think you have bronchitis,” she said. “Did you take anything when you got back here or did you just crash?”

“Well, I’ve had most of a bottle of DayQuil today,” he said. He struggled to sit up. “You know what happens when you drink most of a bottle of DayQuil?”

“No, what happens?”

“Nothing good, I’ll tell you that for free,” he said.

Alex winced in sympathy. “You threw up?”

He ran his hands through his hair and dragged his palms over his face. “It was neon orange, Al,” he said, slightly muffled.

“That’s no good,” she said. “Did you-”

He broke into a cough, thick and heavy and rattling in his lungs, and Alex rubbed his back. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said gently. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay,”

It took a moment for him to settle down and breathe normally again; his glasses tilted drunkenly on his nose and his eyes were watering. “That sucked,” he rasped.

“Yeah, I bet,” she said. “You’ve got the sore throat, right? Feels like you swallowed broken glass?”

“I was going to say barbed wire, but yeah,” he said.

Alex squeezed his knee. “Get out of your uniform and lie down,” she said. “I’ll go get you something to drink. How much water have you had today?”

“If Red Bull counts, then I’ve had two waters.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get you water and a gatorade,” she said. “You get changed.”

She started to leave the room. “Hey, Alex?” he asked. She paused in the doorway. “Can you get me a purple one?”

“Yes, I’ll get you a purple gatorade.”

“The light purple, not the dark purple,” he called after her.

“I remember, I remember,” she called back.

She went down to the vending machines and got him two bottled waters and a light purple gatorade. For all his mature-for-his-age, old soul vibe, Hotch was as hard to handle as Spencer when he wasn’t feeling well.

His door was cracked when she got back to his room, but she paused. He’d changed into flannel pajama pants and he was struggling into one of his wrestling tee shirts. Alex bit back a wince and ducked back into the hallway. She rarely saw the scars on his back, but he usually kept them well hidden and it never got easier to see it. He didn’t like to talk about it, and she didn’t blame him.

When she was sure the coast was clear she stepped back into the room. Hotch sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. “Headache?” she asked as she set the bottles down on his nightstand.

“It feels like there’s a rock concert playing directly in my brain,” he said.

She went into his bathroom and dug around in the medicine cabinet. He didn’t have much for himself; it was mostly medicine they kept on hand for Spencer. “Oh, I can give you the big boy ibuprofen instead of the chewable stuff,” she teased. She set the bottle of ibuprofen down with the drinks. “This first though. Hold still.”

She set the thermometer in his ear and he jumped. “Ow,” he complained. “You could have warned me.”

“If I warned you, you’d try to argue,” she said. It beeped and she held it out so he could see the readout. “A hundred point four. You’re not going to class today, or tomorrow either.”

He rolled his eyes. “At least I got my test done,” he said.

“How do you think you did?” she asked.

“I don’t think I failed.”

Alex took his hand so she could place the pills in his hand, then opened one of the bottles of water. “Take these. Drink all of this. And then go to sleep,” she said.

“I’m not tired, I had so much DayQuil,” he complained as he popped the pills in his mouth.

“Which you’ve already puked back up,” she pointed out. “You need to get some sleep.”

He chugged a third of the water and paused to cough. “I just need to rest,” he said. “Can you hand me my laptop.”

“No.”

Hotch scowled. “Alexandra. Give me my laptop,” he said. “I have an essay due on Friday.”

She grabbed his laptop and wrestled it into her school bag. “You can have it back when you’re not running a fever,” she said.

“Alex!” he whined. “I need to work on that.” She bit back a laugh. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry, it’s hard to take you seriously with your nerd glasses on,” she said. He huffed, which turned into another cough. “Seriously, Aaron. You need to take it easy. And it’s school policy that you can’t attend classes until you’ve been fever-free for twenty-four hours.” He rubbed his ear. “Besides, you know Spencer’s going to try to spend quality time with you, and he’s not going to be able to handle it if he catches what you have. The more you rest and take care of yourself, the sooner you’ll get over it.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

“I usually do.”

“You just had to play the Spencer card.”

“I was saving it just in case.”

Hotch set the empty water bottle back on the nightstand and shifted around until he was under the covers. “Are you going back to class?” he asked. “Lunch is almost over.”

He sounded nonchalant, but he was avoiding her eyes and tugging at a loose thread on his comforter. “I can stay a while longer,” she said. “Besides, if anybody asks where I was, Gideon can tell them I was with you. You know he thinks we’re twins too?”

“For such a brilliant man, he’s kind of clueless,” Hotch said. “I’m not going to sleep, but I’ll rest, okay?”

“Sure,” Alex said. “Do you want to watch something?” She pulled at the laces of her ankle boots. “Do you want to watch wrestling?”

“I don’t watch wrestling.”

Alex looked him up and down. “We all know you’re a secret wrestling fan,” she said. “And even if you say you’re not, I can read your tee shirt.”

“No one ever wants to watch wrestling with me,” he said.

“Yes, well, you’re sick, you should get to watch what you want,” she said. She set her boots aside and handed him the remote. “Now scoot over.”

He paused, the remote balanced in his hand as the TV blinked on. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I said so,” she said. “I mean it! Scoot over.”

He obeyed, still clearly confused, and she pulled and tugged at him until they both fit on his narrow twin bed, his head resting on her stomach. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Wow, you really are mostly limbs, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a couple of growth spurts,” he said. “You’re sure you want to watch wrestling with me?”

“Go for it,” she said.

Truthfully she had no desire to watch wrestling, but she knew it would make him happy, and when he was this sick he deserved things that would make him happy. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, and before long she heard him snoring again, the sound thick and rattling in his lungs. When she was sure he was asleep she tugged his glasses off and set them aside on the nightstand. Most likely he would wake up cranky and groggy and he’d try to argue that he could go to class, but for now she could keep him calm and quiet, and hopefully the sleep would help.

“Maybe you’ll be a little bit less of an absolute disaster when you wake up,” she said, and she kept stroking his hair while he slept.

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #patron saint: hotch #patron saint: alex #patron saint: the wonder twins #alex is a mom #hotch is an ABSOLUTE DISASTER #spencer is a perfect cherub #wow james loves alex #emily is a queen #EAT A FRUIT JENNIFER #yes hotch is a secret wrestling fan #criminal minds fanfiction #brenna has helped me workshop a lot of ideas for my hotch arc and some of those ideas are popping up here #Anonymous #thank you for asking!!

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whattimeisitintokyo · 3 years

Text

Snip Snip

This is a one shot/sequel to @pengychan ‘s Mind the Gap that I had brewing in my head for sometime. 100% Pengy approved, I hope you enjoy some silliness.

WARNING: Has some language, sexual descriptions and deals with a M/M/F relationship. Also you should really read Pengy’s fic before you read mine.

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“Señor De la Cruz? The doctor will see you in about five minutes.”

“Never mind. I’m leaving.”

“No—nngh! No! Sit-… down!”

With a none to gentle shove and with great effort Héctor managed to pull Ernesto back down into the waiting room seat. The crashing of a heavy body and screeching of the plastic chair led to a disgruntled brow raise from the receptionist, but she just sighed and returned to her computer work. Ernesto grumbled to himself and crossed his arms with a glare.

“This was your idea, amigo.” Héctor whispered, not wanting to agitate the lady behind the counter even more.

“Exactly, which is why I should be allowed to change my mind.” Ernesto said, pouting as he looked down at his groin. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent my- no wait, every man has spent their whole lives protecting their manhood with gentle care and affection. It is a sense of pride, of thing of power. Potency! It’s what makes a man a man. To get a vasectomy goes against everything I believe in. It’s not in my nature.”

“Aw, Ernesto…” Héctor gripped Ernesto’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. “We’ve talked about this. You’ll still be a man. Imelda and I won’t think any less of you. In fact we’re both extremely proud of you for doing this.”

“Oh shut up.”

“How about this. Once you have the operation, get all healed up and are ready for some action, then…” Pausing to check to see if the receptionist was watching them. “Then you get to go to town on Imelda. No more condoms, just skin to skin. You thrusting deep inside of her while she screams your name, coming together in one rush of pure ecstasy.”

If it weren’t for his nerves and the flight-or-fight struggle going on inside of him now Ernesto would have been fully erect by Héctor’s words alone. Not an ideal situation to be in when one was in a urologist’s office and about to be fully nude from the waist down. Still his cheeks gave a slight flush and he swallowed thickly. “And, uh… what will you be doing while I’m with her?”

“Me?” Héctor chuckled huskily. “Why I’ll be right behind you. Just how you like it.”

Ernesto gasped softly. An Ernesto sandwich, his favorite. A sandwich was something Imelda had come up with that always depended on who was in the middle of their combined lovemaking, a silly little thing hardly compared to how fucking awesome it really was. Penetration and getting penetrated, two forms of stimulation all at once that left one howling in pleasure to the heavens and beyond. Ernesto’s face went full red at that and could already feel the tingle of arousal pooling in his stomach and creeping down into his groin. This was bad. He couldn’t get hard now. He had to think of something to cool down. Something to stop the progression of his-

“Alright, Señor. The doctor will see you now.”

‘That’ll do it.’ Ernesto thought as all thoughts of sex had switched back to nauseating terror.

“Ay, puta madre.” Ernesto whispered and stood up with Héctor. He started to actually tremble when they went through the door, Héctor’s hand on his shoulder failing to stop it. “Shit, shit, shit…”

“Uy, you’re so tense.” Héctor said, now a little worried. “You took your Valium pill almost an hour ago. It didn’t calm you down even a little bit?”

“Do I look calm?!” Ernesto whispered harshly.

No, Héctor had to admit. In the last half hour in the waiting room Ernesto had done anything but relax. He had stood up and sat down multiple times, paced the room, gotten a cup of stale coffee, and had picked up every single magazine that they had, read exactly one page of each, and had thrown it back down onto the table. Héctor believed that if he hadn’t had any Valium in his system right now then there would have been an Ernesto shaped hole busted through the wall of the receptionist office.

“Well they’re gonna give you something stronger once we’re in the room.”

“It won’t work. I know it won’t work.”

“How?”

“Héctor you know me.” Ernesto said, the trembling now reaching his voice. “I have a very strong constitution. Alcohol barely phases me, I need an extraordinary amount of caffeine to really wake up. That valium might as well have been an aspirin. I’m telling you there is nothing in the world that’ll calm me down at this point!”

----------------------

Apparently that nothing had been a Demerol shot to the ass by an elderly nurse.

Héctor cursed the person who had made up the stupid rule that no cell phones or cameras were to be allowed in the doctor’s office. For this was a golden moment that would soon exist only in his memories. And maybe even only his memories because Ernesto himself was just a touch out of it. There he was, laying on the reclined operating chair in a hospital gown with his bare waist covered by a thin paper sheet. Singing baby songs.

“Quince elefantes se balanceaban sobre la tela de una araaaañaaa…” Ernesto sang drowsily while he languidly twirled his finger in the air like a conductor’s baton.

He had slowly but surely diminished over the past half hour, starting with the sluggish shaking of his head as the drugs started to paint his brain with a slight fog. Then came the slow blinking and the monotone, droning humming. Then finally to this: awake sedation as the doctors called it. To Héctor though it was pure hilarity.

Suddenly Ernesto stopped singing and his brow furrowed in thought. “You know they say that a strand of a spider’s web can be tougher than steel.”

Héctor nodded. “I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“I don’t think a spider web can hold fifteen elephants, though.”

“No.”

“Then why would they make a song about something that is physically impossible?”

Héctor laughed. “It’s just a song to teach babies how to count, Ernesto.”

“Well it’s doing a very poor job about teaching them physics.” Ernesto huffed. “When we make it big we should do some kiddy songs, sí? Public domain stuff. That’s free money right there. Quince elefantes se balanceaban-.”

“Ernesto.” Héctor clapped a hand across Ernesto’s mouth, stifling a grin when it seemed to take a few seconds before the drugged man realized his song had been silenced. When Ernesto glared up at him he continued. “You’ve said quince elefantes five times now. You aren’t adding anymore elephants.”

This seemed to be news to Ernesto, and when Héctor removed his hand he actually looked downright embarrassed and ashamed. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

Yes, drugged Ernesto was hilarious alright. Also endearing and adorable.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Héctor said with a smile, and then bent over to give him a kiss on the forehead.

Ernesto hummed in contentment, a faint red on his cheeks as he suddenly looked bashful. “Someone could have come in when you did that, you know.”

“But they didn’t.”

“The room could have a security camera.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, okay… Then…” Ernesto pouted and pointed to his forehead on the same spot. “Uno mas.”

Héctor happily obliged, and no sooner had he leant back from the kiss when the door opened. It was enough to make Héctor’s heart seize a little bit before forcing himself to relax. He hadn’t seen, it was alright. Ernesto just smiled wobbly and waved at the doctor coming in.

“Well, Señor de la Cruz!” the doctor said cheerfully as he set down his clipboard and began to slip on his gloves. “It’s been a little while now. How are we feeling after the Demerol shot?”

“Philosophical.” Ernesto proclaimed grandly, nearly smacking Héctor in the face as he threw out his hand in a dramatic pose. “Young Héctor and I have been discussing the fallacies of nursery rhymes and how they are negatively impacting a child’s learning structure.”

The doctor blinked at that, before giving Ernesto an indulgent smile. “Ohh, so I see. Yep, the medicine is in full effect.” Looking over at Héctor his smile seemed to falter a bit. “You know I usually see wives, girlfriends and even mothers come in to offer support, but rarely male friends.”

Héctor chuckled. “Well I think if his mamá realized that he would be cutting off any chance of her having grandchildren she would explode into a flood of tears. And besides, my wife and I would like to have more kids in the future, but I also might one day want to have a vasectomy. What better time to weigh my options than with my best friend, you know? See what it all entails.”

“I understand.” With a snap of his glove and turning on the overhead light to illuminate Ernesto’s crotch, he moved his tray of surgical equipment towards him. “All right then. Shall we begin?”

With a slight whimper Ernesto held out his hand for Héctor to hold. “You won’t let go at all, right?”

Seeing Ernesto so vulnerable and adorable melted Héctor’s heart, and he wished that Imelda had been there with him to witness Ernesto being so cute. He clutched Ernesto’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I won’t. Don’t worry amigo, this is a perfectly normal procedure. Nothing to worry about at all.”

---------------------------

With Coco laid down for her afternoon nap, all the dogs and Pepita fed and watered, and no shoe orders to work on at the moment Imelda was enjoying some private time to herself curled onto the sofa, watching TV and drinking a nice cup of coffee. She knew this momentary bit of peace wouldn’t last.

Soon Héctor and Ernesto would be back from the doctor’s office and Imelda would be ready for them. She already had stocked up on acetaminophen and had several cold packs in the freezer for when they would be needed. She had even stocked up on Ernesto’s favorite soda, or at least one he tolerated when he wasn’t able to drink beer or other liquors.

She was very proud of Ernesto for bringing up the idea of getting a vasectomy for himself, and even prouder when he had set up the appointment all by himself and left for it this morning with Héctor. She knew he was nervous, heck she was nervous about it too, but she also knew that Ernesto was a man who once he set his mind on something there was no turning back. It was one of the things that she loved about him, even though it sometimes aggravated her.

Loved.

It was so weird thinking that now, even though she knew it was true. Although she was still deeply in love with Héctor and he was in love with her, the end of their sexual arrangement with Ernesto did not make their feelings for him disappear like she thought it would. In fact it only strengthened them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.

And in the end the only thing it succeeded in doing was completely breaking Ernesto’s heart and left him wanting for almost a year. She was ashamed of herself but there was no way she could have foreseen what would come of the night she had slapped that strap-on in front of Ernesto. She had no idea that she would have two men holding a third of her heart while she held a third of theirs.

But it was fine now. For how long she didn’t know. But they would just take it one day at a time.

When she heard the door knock she blew out a sigh and set her coffee mug down. Dante and Ernesto’s four little chihuahuas immediately ran to the door in their room where they were currently shut up in, but thankfully for once they didn’t yip or bark. Just whined pitifully and slightly scratched the door. But they would have to wait until she got Ernesto set up on the couch and was safely protected from them.

Opening the door, she greeted them with a smile. “Well, how did it… go?...”

Ernesto was standing there, straight and tall as ever, an annoyed pout on his face while with one arm wrapped around him was Héctor. Trembling slightly and his face the color of putty, Héctor pointed a shaking finger to Imelda. “We… are stocking up on condoms. Either that or we’ll have a dozen kids. But I am never… going to get one of those… things ever! Never ever!”

Imelda was shocked. “Dios mio! What on Earth happened? Ernesto, did you get the vasectomy or not?”

Handing Imelda a pamphlet with his free hand, Ernesto nodded. “Yeah, I got it. Surgery was short and went without a hitch. Here’s the aftercare treatment plan he gave me. No, the real problem was Princess Héctor right here. Fainted like a dainty maid after the doctor held up my sperm tube for us to see. I know it has another name, but I forget and don’t care.”

“Fainted!” Imelda gasped. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”

“No, but he did throw up.” Ernesto smirked.

“Don’t remind me.” Héctor groaned, holding his stomach and struggling to support himself. “I’ve been nauseous the whole ride back. I need to see something cute. Something pure. I need to see my Coco. Coco, my love, Papá is coming!”

“Do not wake her up Héctor, I just put her down twenty minutes ago!” Imelda called out to Héctor’s retreating form. “And don’t let the dogs out of the other room either!”

“Ay, ay ay ay…”

At the sound of pain, Imelda’s attention turned to Ernesto. He was hunched slightly against the doorframe, his eyes closed tight and face pinched. “Oh, I’m so sorry Ernesto. Héctor distracted me. Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Just tender more than painful.” Ernesto grunted out. “Though it might hurt more after the anesthetic wears off. No, what really hurts is my hand. Héctor crushed the hell out of it during the whole surgery! I regret ever asking him to hold it in the first place! It’s not like my whole livelihood rests in the full use of my hands…”

“You’d still have your voice.” Imelda smiled. “And your so-called good looks.”

“Whatever… can you help me to the couch? I- nng!-… think I reached my limit helping Héctor.”

Ah, so he was in pain. Taking hold of Ernesto’s large arm she helped him slowly shuffle his way around the couch. “He was supposed to be helping you.” She chastised.

“Well he was pretty much useless afterwards.”

“You could have hurt yourself. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy objects.”

Ernesto smiled. “Well look on the bright side. If one of my cajones swells up like a grapefruit then he can pay for my medical bills.”

“Mmm hmm.” Imelda couldn’t help by snicker a little at that. “Okay, let’s sit you down. Okay, easy. Easy…”

Slowly Ernesto sat down on the couch, letting Imelda support him as he slowly eased his way down. With a pained grunt and then a sigh of relief he let his head fall back against the headrest and let his knees spread enough to the point where there was no pain, the sweatpants he was wearing lifting away from the sensitive area. He closed his eyes for a few moments, listening to Imelda bustling through the kitchen quietly, before a soft ahem made him open them again.

Imelda handed him a glass of water and two white pills, then placed a frozen ice pack next to him on the couch. Taking the pills without complaint and downing half the glass of water, he then took the ice pack and ever so gently molded it against his sore nether regions. Gasping softly at the cold at first he then sighed in relief as the coolness soothed the aches and pains, smiling gratefully up at Imelda. “Gracias.”

“De nada.” Imelda said before sitting down next to him, careful not to jostle him too much. “So, the vasectomy was a success?”

Ernesto nodded. “Yep, my cannon is now just a water gun: I may be shooting blanks, but I can still squirt you in the eye.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh am I?”

“Hmm…” Imelda leant against her arm that was resting on the back of the couch, relieved that the pain seemed to be slowly fading from Ernesto’s features. She smiled a little, watching him until he looked over her way with a question on his face. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Shifting a little uncomfortably, he gave her a smug look that used to infuriate her but now knew was just a mask to cover up his own insecurities. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I have done many things in my life you should be proud of.”

“Oh, of course.” Imelda tittered, then rested a hand on his arm. “No I’m proud that you did this. It would have been… hard to explain to others if I gave birth to a child that looked like you… I know you don’t necessarily like children and wouldn’t want one to begin with, but it was still a big decision to make. It couldn’t have been easy-”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stay with you two… Whatever it takes…”

This startled Imelda. Ernesto’s face had darkened considerably when he had said that, but his eyes displayed the same misery she had seen during the year where Ernesto had been separated from them. Because of her. She had been acting on her motherly instincts when she had found out that she was pregnant with Coco, surely a threesome between her parents and her godfather would end badly for her once it would be discovered. And it had only been about sex at the beginning and one-upping each other in terms of sexual prowess when it came to Héctor.

But love had grown first in Ernesto. And then in her and Héctor. All the separation had done was make them all miserable. It was no one else’s concern what they did behind closed doors, and they would raise Coco and their potential children to have open minds and kind hearts.

Ernesto’s eyes cleared and his face reddened in embarrassment as he quickly tried to back pedal. “Oh, uh… Forget I said that. I guess I’m still a little high from the drugs the nurse gave me. They always make me a bit chatty.”

Leaning forward, she wove her fingers into Ernesto’s wavy hair and smiled. “Well I wouldn’t worry. Like it or not you’re stuck with us for life.” And then she gave him a kiss on the forehead, not knowing it was in the exact same spot that Héctor had given him hours earlier. Ernesto touched where she had kissed him, face even redder, and smiled back.

Standing up from the couch, Imelda handed him the TV remote and brushed herself down in a way to calm her own nerves. “Well all right then. Don’t leave that ice pack on for too long. Just do it twenty minutes every hour. Would you like a soda?”

“I’d prefer a beer.”

“Not with medicine still in your system.”

“I also want to see my dogs.”

“I’m sorry, do you want four bony and dense cannonballs jumping directly onto your crotch?”

“…No…”

“Didn’t think so. I’ll get you some soda and chips before I have to rescue Coco from her father. Just holler if you need anything else.”

Watching her walk into the kitchen Ernesto settled further into the couch with a grin. The ache in his groin was lessening, he was now and forever barren, Imelda was pampering him, and he’d seen Héctor make a total fool out of himself today.

“This is nice.” Ernesto said to himself as he turned on the TV. “I should have gotten a vasectomy years ago!”

-------------------------

“And this is from his concert last month in Guadalajara! Signed photographs! Isn’t he handsome? My precious boy! He told me that they were charging 1000 pesos for one foto and they were selling like crazy! But he sent me a stack so that I could share them with my friends. And so I was wondering if you would like one too, Maricarmen?”

Maricarmen stopped stacking a pyramid of oranges long enough to glance at the photograph in Señora Adela de la Cruz’s hands. Ernesto was handsome all right: Dressed in a fine royal blue mariachi suit with a wide brimmed sombrero, grinning with pure machismo and his name signed in gold ink. But the sight of him didn’t melt her insides like it would other girls who glanced at his rugged features. It never did, really. Now just looking at him made her… anxious.

“I think I’ll pass Adela, but gracias anyway.”

Adela’s smile faded and she had that pitying, patronizing look that so many other people gave her that made her so mad but unable to defend herself against. “Are you still upset because Ernesto left all those years ago?”

“…I’m not… upset, but-.”

“Because it was my fault really! Ernesto left because of what I and his father did to him, we betrayed his trust and hurt him deeply. But finally we’ve patched things up and everything is right as rain again. He even visits us again, my precious boy! I know that you and he were good friends-”

Friends…

“-but every time he visits you never come over. Are you upset with him? Are you upset that he’s…” Adela paused, looked around to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation, and whispered none too quietly, “…gay?”

Shocked into a sputtering snort Maricarmen managed to knock down her carefully made orange pyramid all over her fruit stall and onto the ground. Rolling her eyes she bent down to pick up the fallen fruit, shaking her head. “No, I’m not upset about that.” She said, not at all wanting to explain to the older woman what bisexuality was.

“I know you had some feelings for him.”

“… No offense, Dona, but the only feelings I had for him were tolerance but mostly annoyance.”

“Then what is it?”

“Mamá!”

The uncomfortable conversation was finally over with when all of a sudden a piercing cry and quick steps caused both woman to turn at the sudden intruder. A cute little girl, no more than eleven years old, came running up to them with her pink backpack slung over one elbow and her other hand reaching out for Maricarmen. She practically collided with Maricarmen with enough force to garner an oof! from the thin woman and gave her a big hug. “I’m done with school Mamá! May I have some money?”

“And a cheery good afternoon to you too, Maricruz.” Maricarmen said drily.

Maricruz laughed sheepishly and let go, putting her backpack underneath the fruit stand for safekeeping. “Lo siento, Mamá. It’s just that Dolores and Primavera are going to the movies and they invited me. So can I have some money, por favooooor?!”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, mija, but you know things have been tight recently. I’m going to have to start doing some night shifts at the cantina so we can stay afloat and have enough spending money.”

Maricarmen stayed strong when her daughter’s face instantly dropped. She knew that Maricruz was used to not having enough money for things she wanted, but being alone at night while her mother worked was something she hated most. Maricarmen knew that, but it wasn’t like she had anybody else to help her with raising her daughter. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had no other relatives willing to help the poor little slut who had a bastard child.

Maybe I could ask… her father for help?

No. Out of the question. What a fine time to tell him he had a daughter after all these years. And after he had just made it big.

“Oh, okay…” Maricruz said dejectedly, before turning a wide winning smile to Adela. “Señora de la Cruz! How nice to see you. Could you spare a few pesos so I could go see a movie, por favor?”

“Maricruz!” her mother instantly scolded. “You do not just ask someone else for money immediately after I said-”

“Of course I can, niña!”

“ADELA!” Maricarmen cried. “I’m trying to show her she can’t always get what she wants!”

Adela waved her off as she reached for her wallet. “Oh, it’s just a little money and our movie theater isn’t expensive. Going to one movie isn’t going to spoil the girl, especially one as sweet as she is. Here you go, chiquita, here’s enough money for the movie and a few snacks as well.”

“Gracias Señora de la Cruz!” Maricruz said as she pocketed the money and gave the elderly woman a big hug. “You are the nicest woman in all of Santa Cecilia!”

“Oh ho ho, you charmer you.” Adela chortled and then handed her one of her signed photographs. “Here you go also. A signed photograph of my son Ernesto, soon to be the greatest singer in all of Mexico! I’m giving it to everyone for free.”

“Oh cool, gracias!” Maricruz said as she took it, clearly not as excited as she was when she got the money. “I think I’ll give this to my friend Paloma if you don’t mind. She’s a de la Cruzito for life, at least that’s what she told me.”

“Oh, and you’re not?” Adela asked confused.

Maricarmen shook her head and smirked. “No, she likes Héctor, don’t you mija?”

Maricruz sighed dramatically and clutched the photo to her chest. “Ahhh, he’s soooo dreamy!...”

“Really now!” Adela laughed in surprise. “I must admit I’m a little shocked. Don’t get me wrong Héctor is a fine boy and everything, but I guess I’m just used to everyone fawning over my Tito.”

Photograph still in hand, Maricruz just shrugged and smiled widely, her light brown eyes almost giving off a golden hue. “Sorry Señora. But Ernesto de la Cruz just isn’t my type!”

THE END

#coco fanfic #pixar coco #Hector Rivera #Ernesto de la Cruz #imelda rivera #mama imelda #pengychan #mind the gap #Way to go ernesto #you've got a cute little surprise waiting for you in Santa Cecilia

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