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heartfullofleeches · 14 days

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Moonlight Waves

Yan Alien Human Guy Person + Jellyfish Hybrid Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff

“If you put some thought into it…The ocean and space have a lot in common.”

Vast, boundless frontiers- Depths and reach never to be fully unveiled to the eyes of man. All imposing surfaces blanketing both heaven and earth. Two opposing bodies that on nights just like this might align, conjoined by midnight and the luminous orb mirrored upon them both. The full moon was a blessed companion for those who found themselves alone on eves similar to this- Solace and guidance found in her radiance.

“Whelp- Guess it's time to throw myself.”

Wiser folk have said desperate times call for desperate measures- While there were lesser extremes he could have gone to, this seemed like the quickest solution to their predicament. Twenty-four years on this planet and they had still yet to conquer the strenuous feat that was learning how to swim. His mothers were gentle in their upbringing- Apparently too gentle as they never pressured their child into braving the horrors of the swimming pool. On one hand, the biggest factor to their child's fear may have been the fact that it was their neighbor’s pool - and it'd be quite difficult to explain the eerie glow to their toddler's tears and the stains they left on clothing.

They were fine with it early on, but as he grew - Alien realized how much he was missing out on being unable to swim. Most humans know how to swim by their age anyway which would give less credit to his claims of an earth born and raised member of the population….Which they were regardless of whether or not they knew how to swim.

Alien squares his shoulders, testing the binds of numerous weights anchoring various parts of their body. Unsatisfied with the distribution, he plucks a stone from the moist sand surrounding his legs - unfastening the velcro of their right breast pocket and adding it to the collection. A horde of trinkets ranging from shells to stones to a couple marbles crowded each pocket from the vest they wore down to the swimming trunks they purchased for the occasion. So what if his body was more buoyant than the average human being- requiring additional weight to avoid floating off into the endless sea. Alien had always been a scrawny person-

“That should be enough- Wait…Is that?”

Srounging for more space to stuff the final stone, a gentle glow envelopes their fingertips following a faint- snap! Alien pushes the rocks and shells aside, wrestling the shining band from beneath them with minimal effort.

*Jackpot! I thought I used all of these already. With this baby on, I'm definitely ready for this. Wish me luck up here!”

Alien gazes up at the moon as they slip the glow-stick bracelet onto their arm. It's the last thing they see as their legs carry the rest of them towards the end of the cliff. Had it not been a full moon or the sky so clear- tonight may have gone different for them. They could've swallowed their pride, and went to bed with intentions to sign up for the nearest swim class come morning. Realistically, Alien knew he'd never go through with that plan, but it was nice in theory. Safer too-

Head lost in the cloudless sky, Alien yelps as the ground is swept from beneath them - their screams swiftly snuffed by gallons of water as they're dragged into a plummet off the cliff's edge. Their body connects with the sea, pockets of air bubbling to the surface from the force at which they collide. The oxygen escaping him would have been alarming - had they any need for it. Whether they could hold their breath or their biology simply skipped the stage where their lungs depended on air was a secret they'd take to the grave.

Sinking fast, Alien realizes what some might call a flaw in their ingenious plan.

Perhaps, just maybe, they potentially added too much weight for them to claw their way back to the surface.

…

Ah well.

Since they're already down here, there's no harm in exploring. Hard to see much beyond the gleam of their jewelry dangling freely around their wrist, but they dig the vibe of it all - drifting weightlessly without aim or reason. The deeper they dove, the brighter the natural fluorescence of their skeleton bled through their skin. Alien had heard of a condition that made people's skin slightly yellow before. Surely the green glow of their bones had to be in the same family. The shine widens their range of sight. By now, it was hard to decipher which way they were facing. The moon had long since faded from view….

Oh, wait. There it is..

….

Is it?

Stranging their eyes through the blackened depths of the ocean, Alien can clearly make something out miles away from them - shrouded by a halo of light. It almost mimics their guideless descent - floating off course before gradually aligning itself in a mostly linear ascent towards them. That alone was enough evidence whatever they were looking at was not the moon. The fluctuation of its surface and the four, almost crescent shaped markings atop only served as further proof. Inch by inch, as the space between them grew narrow, Alien could make out more of its features. Flowing tendrils, a pair of arms floating freely at its sides, a face adorned with a dopey smile.

Face to face, the near angelic like figure raises one of its hands - waving its fingers at the unfamiliar face within its territory. Alien’s eyes tighten from the phosphorescence of the creature's skin. Ignoring the sting, Alien lifts his own hand, mirroring the entity’s motions. The corners of its smile peak higher upon its face, head following the dim glow of their bracelet. The lightly draws focus to the stones bulging from his pockets. The creature's grin falters into tight lipped confusion.

“Hey…Hey!”

Alien struggles to make a sound as its hands paw at the straps of their pockets. Successfully tearing the sleeve open, the creature yanks out every rock, every shell- It pauses briefly to marvel at the eye of the marbles in Alien's pocket before shoving them beneath the cap of their head as they continue. Depleting their vest of its contents was all it took to send Alien on their upwards rise towards the surface. The angel waves again before swimming its way to the top, gliding gracefully as a true angel would through the sky. It grabs onto Alien's wrist, tugging him along with them as he apparently took too long for their liking.

Alien could only watch on in awe as the darkness peeled away - moonlight adding on to the ethereal, otherworldly glimmer that was this being and its flesh. Could this be Alien's first encounter with an extraterrestrial? There was no possible way a creature of this radiance was from earth. They just couldn't be-

The creature releases their hold on Alien's wrist as they breach air. Alien finds himself searching for their touch, and another item he appeared to be missing. The angel, the only term Alien found fit for them, wandered towards the shore without him- back facing the sand as they spun a glowing band around their finger. Alien channels the knowledge of every training video they viewed before their trip as they doggy paddle in the general direction of the shore. Thankfully, there was still enough weight in their shorts to keep them perfectly balanced between drifting off and going under.

The energy is depleted from their very soul by the time they reach their destination. The angel sits with its lower half still bathed by the oncoming tide, rolling a marble through the crystalized sand. It throws its arm into the air as Alien appears.

The angel waves. Alien, running on fumes and the strange heartache that would come from not reciprocating their kind gesture- waves back.

The angel helps Alien sit upright, returning the marbles they had borrowed back into the land dweller’s pocket from which they can. Alien fishes out of the marble they saw the angel toy with and gives it back to them.

“Keep that one… So- you got a name?”

The angel’s mouth falls open in a “O” of both surprise and honor at the present. They brush the sand smooth before rolling the marble through it once more. Inspecting their craft, Alien can make out letters the further along the angel continues.

“Y/n? That's your name?”

You clap your hands in praise, sound and ferocity increased by the wetness of your palms. Cute.

“You, uh, come here often?”

The point of your finger towards the water states the obvious fact that you live here. A murmur akin to laughter slips past your lips at that one.

“You got me there… The sea’s pretty big, though. What I'm asking is can I see you again?”

You tap a finger to your chin in thought, head dipping towards the bracelet now hanging from your own wrist. You point to it, hope and wonder present in your grin.

“You like the bracelet? You can keep that too. I can bring you more if that's what you're asking.”

Clapping again, you latch onto Alien's side - merging your fingers with theirs as you hold them both to the sky. Moonlight pours through your skin and theirs, transparency muddled by the existence of their bones. Your head falls to their chest- a whisper so quiet they almost missed it.

“Like me…”

They're glad that they didn't.

#alien my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere fluff #yandere drabble

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wolkoshka · 18 days

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Paranormal II

summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 2/3

an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.

"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."

Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.

Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.

"So what happened?"

"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.

You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.

"Did he fall for it?"

"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."

"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"

"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."

"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."

"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"

Your friend chuckled.

Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.

Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.

A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.

You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.

Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!

Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!

Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!

When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.

"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."

Your head perked. "We will?"

Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?

You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.

"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.

"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.

"We're not peepin'." You.

Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.

"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.

Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?

You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.

As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.

You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"

"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"

You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.

There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.

Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.

His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.

"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.

You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."

Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."

Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.

Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.

When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.

For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.

When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.

What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.

Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.

Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.

Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.

A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.

To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.

Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.

You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.

Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.

Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.

It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.

But you...

The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.

He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.

Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.

Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.

Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.

God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.

It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.

What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.

He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.

He shouldn't be caring for it either.

He should walk away now. But...

The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -

You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.

What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.

Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.

"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.

He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.

Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.

If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.

You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.

A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.

Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?

He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.

Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.

Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.

Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.

His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.

He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.

It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.

Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.

He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.

So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.

Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.

He wouldn't survive it.

And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.

Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.

Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.

A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."

"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.

You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."

Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.

His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.

He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."

He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.

A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.

"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."

Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.

"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.

"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."

"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."

He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.

You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"

"I'll live, poppy."

Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.

Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.

His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.

His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four se -

Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.

His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.

"Properly thank me how?"

Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.

His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"

He fuckin' loved biscuits.

"Yes. With tea?"

Hell, he loved that more.

He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"

A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.

Growled.

You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."

In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.

Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.

He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.

"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.

He breathed in deep, pulling focus.

Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.

You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.

And now he was turning into a bloody poet.

If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.

He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.

It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.

His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.

You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.

So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.

He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.

"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."

You pressed the green one.

A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.

Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.

Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.

You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.

Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.

The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.

Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.

"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"

Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.

He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.

There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.

This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.

You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.

Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.

Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.

All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.

You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.

You still did not look at him.

Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.

Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.

In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.

Then, so softly, you said his name.

"Simon."

His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.

You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.

"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."

Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Johnny," you murmured.

"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"

Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.

"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."

He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"

A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.

You shrugged. "Yeah."

He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.

But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"

You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.

He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.

Focus, soldier.

His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.

No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.

"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.

"What's wrong with it?"

Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."

Pleasant? That's a new one.

But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.

"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.

"Well, I think you're wrong."

Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?

You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.

The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.

Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.

You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.

Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"

A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.

"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.

Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.

"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"

You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.

Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.

A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.

Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.

"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.

Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.

"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.

Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.

"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.

At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.

Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.

The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.

God, you were hot against him. Burning up.

Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.

Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.

Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.

"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.

You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.

Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.

You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.

His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.

Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.

A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.

"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "

That did it.

With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.

His weight suffocated you into the mattress.

You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.

His ire flared, his desire, even more so.

"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."

You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.

The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.

It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.

Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.

Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."

"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.

You nodded eagerly.

Yes.

He cursed under his breath.

Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"

You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."

"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."

You keened at the warning. "Promise?"

At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.

So be it. You would learn your lesson.

"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.

an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨

suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.

on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨

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specialagentlokitty · 8 months

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Eggsy x reader - takes some time

Hey, saw that you take requests for Kingsmen? If that’s right, would you write one about meeting Eggsy in the field and you eventually get recruited to Kingsmen and you guys are perfect partners? - Anon💜

Holding your umbrella in front of you, you scanned the area, looking at all of the unconscious guards in front of you.

“You were supposed to wait.”

“If a gentleman cannot turn up on time that is not my issue Merlin.” You snapped back.

The man sighed, and asked you to look around again so you did.

“He’s on his way no, do not enter that building without Galahad.”

“I will not refer to him by that name until he earns that title.”

You took your glasses off, placing them in your pocket as you began to move some of the guards out of sight.

That’s when Eggsy turned up, covered in snow and dirt, and you looked at him, scoffing a little bit.

“I suppose they will let anybody become an agent now. Not only are you late, you are a state.”

“Hey! It’s not easy climbing up half a snowy mountain you know.”

“You should be more prepared whelp, hurry up and let’s get this over with, I need to be home by this evening.”

Eggsy scoffed as he trailed behind you, trying to clear some of the snow from his suit.

“Are you an agent?” He asked.

“No, I’m an agent in training, they just so happened to need my skills on this mission.”

“So… wouldn’t that make you a whelp.”

“Eggsy I wouldn’t mock them if I were you, (Y/N) here is single handedly the best candidate we’ve had, and is particularly skilled in hand ti hand combat.”

“Anybody can do that Merlin.”

You both cleared the room you needed, and you set your unbrella down.

“That’s not why I’m in this mission. We need two sets of hands to break the mainframe, Merlin can do it in the outside we need somebody on the inside, you’re to keep me from being killed.”

Sitting down, you began typing, and Eggsy sat in the table next to you, sometimes watching you, but mostly just watching the door.

“Got it, let’s go.”

“What’s the hurry? Shouldn’t we clear the place?”

You looked at Eggsy and blinked a couple of times.

“Are you insane? It’s going to blow up, let’s go!” You snapped.

Grabbing your umbrella you ran off and he had to sprint in order to keep with with you.

You jumped on your jetski and waited for him, and sped as far down the mountain before running away from the bottom.

That was the first mission you two ever had together, and he hadn’t heard word of you for months after so he assumed you hadn’t made into the agency.

Until his next mission he was paired with you once again.

At first your two didn’t get along, but given how well you worked with one another you were always stuck together when working.

And slowly you became friends, and you were both unstoppable.

“So, me and you, drinks tonight at yours.” Eggsy said walking into your office.

Looking up from your paperwork, you scoffed a little bit at him.

“Still not very gentleman like I see.”

“This is as good as you’re gonna get, a suit and some basic manners.”

“Basic manners is not inviting yourself to other people’s homes.”

“You can’t say shit! You invited yourself to my house last week because you were out of salt and nowhere was open!” He huffed.

“Well how else am I supposed eat my chips Eggsy?!”

“I’m coming to your house and if you lock the door I’m breaking the lock! Do you want me to bring food?!”

“Pizza!”

He grinned a little at you and left.

Laughing, you shook your head and finished your paperwork before gathering your things to head to floor you needed to get back home.

“We have a mission tomorrow.”

“That’s tomorrow not today so I could not care less.”

“How the hell did you even get hired?”

Sitting in the seat, you gestured for the other agent to sit before closing the door.

“Keep pushing your luck Eggsy and I’ll tell everybody what your real name is.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Course I do Gary.” You grinned.

“Oh god…”

You smirked at him, glancing at your watch before looking back up.

“I did my research.”

“Why?!”

“I was bored.”

He huffed, and you laughed a little, grabbing the keys from your pocket so you could get to your car.

“Go get pizza.”

“Wow aren’t even gonna drive me?”

“Oh for god sake fine.”

Eggsy snickered, running past you, snatching your car keys from you.

You guys were perfect partners, unstoppable, best friends, but god did you sometimes feel like you were babysitting an overgrown child

#kingsmen #kingsmen x reader #kingsmen x you #kingsmen imagine #Eggsy #Eggsy x reader #Eggsy x you #Eggsy imagine

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jinxquickfoot · 7 months

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So I finished my Age of Ultron rewatch. It's been a couple of years since I last saw it, and here are some random thoughts I had on it:

Things I will maintain I like about this movie:

It has some of my favorite jokes in the MCU, and they're usually the little moments. The little nod of validation Rhodey makes after getting a laugh at his "Boom! You looking for this?" story. Clint telling Steve he's no match for Ultron and Steve replying with, "Thanks, Barton". Clint's "Yeah, you better run" after Pietro has long since disappeared with Wanda, there are loads of them.

I like Vision, Wanda and Pietro. Despite being secondary characters with not a huge amount of screen time, Wanda and Pietro feel like real people with real backstories, and Paul Bettany is wonderful the first time we see him as Vis.

It's the only movie we get to see the Original 6 hang out as friends.

I love that Fury randomly shows up in the middle and is like "let me make a sandwich while we discuss how not to let the world end also by the way hi Tony I really care about you"

Other casual appearances of other MCU characters, something that is so lacking Phase 4 onwards. Sam being at the party and Thor going to Selvig for help makes the world feel lived in.

RDJ's never dropped the ball as Tony but his performance really stuck out to me here, god he's good

Steve and Thor have multiple moments of teaming up and working together, what an underrated duo

Hulk vs Iron Man suit inside an Iron Man Suit fight

The Avengers do their best to evacuate Sokovia before Ultron attacks, which does not excuse the amount of damage caused there, but I do think is a plot point everyone forgets about (myself included)

And things that annoy me (skipping over the stuff everyone talks about like the Natasha/Bruce plot):

I hate how Joss Whedon writes Steve, both here and in Avengers. He only feels like Steve when he's being given jokes, otherwise he is so self-serious and stiff, the core of Steve is his heart and it is nowhere to be found in this movie

The movie spends so long setting up character arcs that feel promising and have no payoff. What is the point of Laura telling Clint the Avengers need him if he's going to retire at the end of the movie. Steve has several references to finding home in a way that doesn't go anywhere (Until Endgame, I guess). Don't get me started on Natasha.

It's trying so hard to have a theme but it never says anything unique. Bruce, Tony, Natasha and Vision all refer to themselves as monsters. Ultron decides that the Avengers are the bad guys. Steve has a speech all about proving they're not the monsters Ultron says they are. Based on WHAT? What is the message of this movie?? That the Avengers are better than the evil AI who wants to kill everyone?

(I half-feel there was a previous draft where Clint was their heart, or something, or he died and they were like whelp Phil Coulson 2.0 let's go avenge him, and the random pieces of that are still floating around the script with nowhere to go)

NO ONE is remotely concerned enough when their friends are getting hurt (maybe just the hurt/comfort lover in me, but still.) Natasha comes across as the only person who cares when Clint sustains a life-threatening injury. No one seems to be bothered that Natasha is being held captive by a psychotic supervillain. Tony shows more emotion over a fictional future where they die than when someone is actually in danger.

They really could have had a premise where they weren't allowed to access technology at all and could have gone retro with everything and they didn't and that just feels like a wasted opportunity. Clint and Natasha digging out old spy tech. Steve being like "Yes! This is familiar! I got this!" Tony making genius inventions out of tech from fifty years ago. Come on, it was right there.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #age of ultron #mcu #marvel #avengers #thoughts

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anguishedlurker · 6 months

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Don't Shoot; It's me! No, the other guy! (#38, fake body swap)

HI Y'ALL welcome to my ecto-imposion fic! I'm the writer of course and my wonderful artist was @astravis , and @thesilentbard plus @dragonsdomain he;ped me out with betaing! Check them all out! Buckle up, because this is just the first chapter! And maybe look at the ao3 posting

Of things Danny should have predicted, Skulker and Technus teaming up one day was going to land pretty high on the list.

It all started so normal, too! Getting multiple ghosts at once wasn’t uncommon anymore, and Skulker appearing? Must be a day that ends with Y.

Technus, though...

“I’ll pelt you yet, whelp!” Skulker bellowed, having been ineffectually brained with the remains of a lamppost.

Technus was thusly absorbing the lamppost's remains into his suit, adding yet another object that would qualify as a taser in the right circumstances.

“AND I, TECHNUS, WILL USE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO-”

“No, really, do you ever shut up?!” Danny cut him off, meanwhile diving behind the remains of- ooohhh this was that vegan place Sam liked. He was going to hear about this one for weeks.

“Your disrespect remains immeasurable, child.” Skulker growled, not wasting time in obliterating what was left of the building.

“YEAH, WHAT IS HE? CHOPPED LIVER?”

Danny didn’t pay this mind, throwing some potshots at the both of them as he skittered away for new cover.

“He’s a mecha pain in my- AAA”

We interrupt this smart comment for debris! Debris; A mark of your failure to protect.

Debris wasn’t a new threat, but regardless? That was going to bruise.

Danny was ready to punch them to paste barehanded if it’d get this fight to stop. Skulker already had a weapon making shield borderline painful to maintain against blasts, and with Technus in tow couldn’t be trusted to not get a random power-boost.

Meaning this needed to end, now!

However, “now” would have to be sometime after Technus’s blasts stopped slapping him down like an especially annoying kitten.

“Ah, finally showing cowardice whelp?” Skulker taunted, lazily aiming one of his guns as Danny darted somewhere over an alleyway.

“I prefer to call it intelligence!”

“RUNNING WILL NOT HELP YOU HERE, PEST!” Technus borderline giggled.

Clearly, Danny thought as a piece of roof exploded behind him.

… That one might’ve been that weirdo occult shop that was trying to set up without him noticing. Couldn’t say he’d miss it, if nothing else.

It was really starting to look like “damage control” meant doing some damage himself to cut this short.

He was absolutely going to hear it from Sam once he was done here, as it wasn’t like ecto-ice was easy to clean up. (God knows what's IN that Danny!)

Somewhere in the distance the Fenton GAV wailed, a bad sign for all participants.

So… one shot to do this, maybe two… Eh. He’s had worse odds before!

One last sacrificial rubble pile to buy a second, aaand-

“I DO BELIEVE WE MUST CUT THIS ONE SHORT! SKULKER, IF YOU WOULD?”

“It's a pleasure to use this new toy.”

Danny didn’t even get time to throw an icicle at them.

The rubble exploded, and then Danny exploded, flung across the street like a sack of potatoes and making several things give an upsetting crack on landing.

Screw bruising at this point, he’d be lucky if all of this managed to heal before Monday.

Note to self: Never ever let Technus Skulker pair up ever again.

“FASCINATING RESULTS!” Technus beamed as Danny groaned his way onto his feet.

“Your move, whelp.” Skulker growled, gun pointed at Danny.

“That little toy? Ha, it barely even-!”

And see, there’s many things about Danny’s powers that would never be properly explained to his friends. How intrinsic they all were by now, above all else.

A running start and pathetic hop into the air didn’t actually mean much for flying; by all accounts Danny could go from zero to sixty in a standing position.

So, the raw humiliation of that pathetic hop- intended to be a full assault launch- landing him in a kneeling position took a second to process.

It was just so impossible.

The metal on Skulkers helm twisted to a smile as the gun gave a shrill whine.

Technus giggled as he absorbed a car into his already overburdened monstrosity of a mech, clearly thinking this fight was done.

The GAV siren had never been so loud.

There was really only one choice: Run. Run for his life.

The street lit up behind him, adrenaline carrying him much faster than he had any right to be on foot.

“RUNNING AGAIN, WHELP?” Technus shouted, much too close for Danny’s liking.

“That’s Skulker’s thing!” He shouted back, at a total loss for anything witty.

“I’ve done no such thing as run, child!”

“I THINK HE MEANS THE TERM WHELP.”

Oh good, yes! Get distracted!

“Your thievery of my vocabulary will not go unpunished; yet, for now, we have our prey-”

“UNPUNISHED? WE ARE ALLIES! TO RAISE YOUR HAND IN VIOLENCE AGAINST ME NOW WOULD-”

“Not right now you imbecilic-”

The blasts behind him were slowing down immensely already, buying him a slide around a corner with enough lead to shove himself between buildings.

Still, even with this he wasn’t exactly well hidden.

His options, in this fine back alley, were… A broken mirror, two cardboard boxes, and a dumpster.

…

The dumpster was uncomfortably moist as he shoved himself in and closed the top, and the smell- is this the nasty burger dumpster??

Slowly the town map in his head adjusted. Eugh… Desperation carried him farther than he thought.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’VE LOST HIM!?”

“The shot must have suppressed his signature. The tracker will be borderline worthless unless we are on top of him.”

Oh, good! Truly, a fair trade for his powers! And once he was done being sarcastic, probably the single blessing he’d get out of this.

“I WOULD CALL THAT EVEN LESS THAN BORDERLINE.”

“Your worthless insistence on semantics is duly noted.”

The bickering continued into the distance, followed shortly by the GAV wailing and his father pointedly screaming.

“Rotten ghosts, molecule by molecule would be too good for you!”

“Phantoms not re-appearing on the radar, but keep an eye out regardless. Who knows what cloaking tactics it’s come up with this time. To the right!” His mom warned, getting fainter and fainter (in the wrong direction) as the GAV sped after Technus and Skulker. Or wherever the altered signal was leading them.

One would think it’d only work the once...

Danny was left to contemplate the situation in silence. Nothing would get done in the dumpster, sure, but hey, uncomfortably moist? More like comfortably hidden.

But beyond that being cowards talk, he reeaallly couldn’t sit there and trust that his parents or even Valerie would pull through on this one.

Okay, well, first task; Phase out of the dumpster.

An action that should be on the same level as ‘flex your jaw’, and yet, Danny was no less uncomfortably moist in sauce juice by the end of his attempt.

The whole thing was unpleasantly reminiscent of the Fenton crammer, minus the shrinking. Powers suffocated to the vaguest wisps in the back of his skull, borderline hallucinations to his futile attempts to use them.

Still stuck in the dumpster, Danny mentally conceded to plan B; Phone a friend.

Tucker was, unfortunately, out at a tech event for the weekend. Which meant it needed to be Sam.

Sam, who was stuck appeasing her parents today in exchange for the stunt with Ms. Hoffman last week.

Somewhere in the distance shots sounded off, indicating that someone had found his two enemies.

Danny didn’t have high hopes as he popped open the dumpster lid and shakily dialed. First of all it’d require Sam to already be out of the dreaded social situation, and secondly it’d mean he got a stroke of good luck if she picked up either way.

His anxiety collapsed to resignation as the ring tone meandered on, leaving him to ignore the layers of irony and humor in his ringtone having been changed to Mystery Skulls’ Ghost.

Pink blasts flashed in the sky from somewhere distant, meaning either Vlad got involved or Valerie had shown up- one more likely than the other.

“Hi! If you don’t know who this is, you shouldn’t have called anyways, and if you do and I didn’t pick up then I’m ignoring you specifically and your voicemail better give me a good reason to call back. And Tucker, if that’s you, I’m not paying for that. You know I’m not. Stop asking. Leave a message after the-”

Danny didn’t wait any longer to hang up. No voicemail would ever be secure enough to risk actually leaving one, and leaving one wouldn’t even speed up the response time.

An especially bright pink and green flash washed over what was probably half the town, and a large crash sounded from several different points in the area.

Now down the phone a friend option, Danny elected to revisit and modify plan A by throwing his leg over the side of the dumpster instead.

You know, the lame way to exit.

None of his bones liked him as he hit the ground, the wind in his metaphorical sails really not keeping up with what he needed to be doing.

Even with the self deprecation heavily suppressed, the situation didn’t really brighten outside of the dumpster. How, precisely, would boxes aide him here? Box Ghost was still pretty peeved over the whole cardboard-boxes-dissolve-in-water solution...

A thoughtless attempt to transition between forms left a suspiciously glass-like popping noise to ring in his ears and leave him fallen face-first onto the ground.

The most intact piece of mirror sat across him, dimly processing as unsafe for workers to be near as the gerbil controlling intelligent thought in his head took a smoke break.

… Seriously, why not have just tossed the thing into the dumpster itself? It’s right there!

The gerbil returned from its smoke break as Danny took in his reflection somewhat, the wheel powering his thoughts creaking back to life.

The crammer had slowly stripped him of every Phantom attribute until only Fenton remained, while right now the present cause to all his woes seemed to have merged his clothes straight down to his hoodie and left every other feature untouched.

It was… weird.

And deeply irrelevant, actually. He needed to either try calling Jazz (ugh) or haul himself home to see if he can’t glue a solution together (different ugh).

Time to shove himself back up to kneeling and pick the gravel out of his teeth (hrng).

While he was at it, it might be a good idea to start a list of cameras that’d need their footage wiped. Even if Fenton’s clothes weren’t incriminating he just didn’t need-

There was an ecto gun by his head, the safety giving a click as it was turned off.

“Would you like to beg?”

He knew that voice- by god did he know that voice. Valerie had to be on that hoverboard just out of his field of view.

He had to have missed some sort of movement while slumped forward by the mirror- it’s not like he wasn’t in enough pain for reality to start blurring.

But that didn’t help, did it? Because he was readily identifiable as Phantom to a girl who wanted half of him dead(er), with zero powers or wit to throw at the situation that wouldn’t just get him shot faster.

But what would help!? She didn’t have any interest in listening to Phantom, barely had any in listening to Fenton, though her lethal intent would at least be lower!

Somehow, someway, the gerbil in his head clipped through the wheel's geometry and resolved to never return.

“Don’t shoot, Val, it’s me! Danny!”

The gun got MUCH louder in response

“Well, Danny Phantom, I think knowing my name-”

“N-No! Fenton!”

He could hear the dial-up noises in Valerie's head, he himself stuck on trying to process how royally he just screwed himself over.

“Let’s suppose, for just one second here, that I don’t believe that.”

“L-look Val, belief doesn’t have much to do with the fact that I’m like, super harmless right now. Literally what would I gain by telling you that?”

He could feel her eyes stare even harder, dissecting his identity in this new light.

“Time.”

Well, he had a good run…

The alleyway promptly exploded, leaving Valerie to skitter off to who knows where as she swore worse than any adult Danny had had the displeasure of listening to.

Danny himself was left hyperventilating in the dust, promptly hopping back into the dumpster and burying himself in the worst effort towards hiding he’s probably ever managed.

“I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE HIGHLY UNLIKELY FOR HIM TO HAVE HIDDEN HERE.”

“Disappointing, and unexpected. The chase is far more important, but what distracted her?”

“I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS TO MATTER. YOU MAY HAVE SAID PRACTICALLY ON TOP, BUT I THINK AT THIS POINT IN THE ALLEY IT’S SAFE TO SAY HE’S NOT-”

“Move it or lose it, socket-licker. One of our high value targets is running.”

“YOU ARE ONE TO TALK, SHORTSTOCK. INSULTS ASIDE, I WAS GETTING THERE.”

Skulker’s “No, you weren’t. And you’re lucky we’re working together you-” got fainter as the two continued to completely miss his idiot self hidden just under the surface of two tonnes of food slime.

This was now the second time Danny was in the same dumpster, and honestly? He STILL didn’t want to leave!

He couldn’t cave to the desire this time either- trying to out his identity to Valerie in a last ditch effort to save his hide was officially going to go down as one of his dumbest decisions ever.

He couldn’t even think of anything funny his friends would mock him with this time. It was stupid all the way down.

Feet to the ground, eyes peeled for enemies- gone for now.

Time to unbend his pride and beat his mile run record while trying to call Jazz. Hey, multitasking!

He was going to lose his mind over this one. Even without his personal missteps this was bad.

“Hi, this is Jasmine Fenton! Hopefully I can get back to you soon, but for now, please leave a message after the-”

Click.

Two options, he pondered as he did a running slide past the corner grocery store.

One: Jazz was doing tutoring and had her phone off.

Or, possibly, two: Their parents loaded her onto the GAV and didn’t take no for an answer.

He didn’t hear her earlier trying to scream advice in an attempt to circumvent the danger their parents posed to everyone, but was it even a Tuesday for her to be busy with tutoring? Or maybe she does tutoring on Thursdays…

None of it mattered obviously. He had to get to Fenton Works ASAP.

There wasn’t strictly much that could help him, but he couldn’t imagine anything going even more wrong by using the splitter to try and get some part of him functioning again.

At worst, he’d have two people to drive the Speeder so he/they could gun it to Frostbite and see what could medically be done.

This totally didn’t gloss over every logistic and science issue ever, no sir!

And even if it did, what kind of options was he supposed to come up with right now!?

One more cut through an alleyway and Danny was in the home stretch towards Fenton works.

This moment was of course the same one a massive crash and crunch of metal sounded off a block away. Maximum.

Before he’d had the saving grace of a hiding spot. Now? Not so much! All it’d take was for Skulker or Technus to remember that they could fly above buildings and-

Well there went his survival odds!

The second after, Valerie flew above their heads, shooting down at them even as they launched onto his street.

And, for as distracting as she was, he couldn’t say his odds just got any higher.

Danny nearly took the door off its hinges trying to get in faster than anything could shoot at him, barely in before the street was awash in pink and green.

Just because he knew he couldn’t get blamed for this (mostly) didn’t mean the sense that he was so dead over this stopped creeping in.

“I, TECHNUS, WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU THAT-” Technus screamed, caving the door in with a broken lamppost, Technus himself soon followed suit, seeming to have shed most of his mecha well before the door- though he was losing more in an effort to get in with ease.

“If this is about the extended car warranty-!” Danny shouted back, trying to bolt for the basement. Or literally any of the house defense buttons- screw that they’d target him too!

“I WOULD NEVER SINK TO SUCH LEVELS, PEST!” Technus cut him off, the severed mecha parts bursting into and spreading wires and metal throughout the house in seconds.

Skulker didn’t waste time squeezing through besides Technus, grinning even as he was focused solely on the street outside.

“The basement.” Was all Skulker said before the option was gone from him, tangled in too much metal and wire to ever think about it again.

Danny wasn’t going to get time to think about this one, bolting upstairs instead as the door frame exploded into pink.

“All of you-”

Valerie interrupted herself with a gunshot to Technus.

“, rat bastards! No respect for-”

Skulker, now.

“anyone or anything! This is a house!”

Danny, now. He could feel it burn through both his shirt and suit even as he passed the last few steps to the second story.

Thank god for adrenaline.

Dashing down the hall as Technus and Skulker both roared into action, he performed the best running leap he’d ever managed to grab and pull the chain for the ladder.

Of course, having leapt for this privilege in a house meant for his dad meant he kept sailing through the air as the ladder slammed down behind him.

That was fine! Valerie was still distracted, just roll and climb! So easy.

So easy to corner himself on a roof with no options except to jump if he wanted off.

The fight continued on beneath him as he stared over the side, his world totally silent otherwise.

Grasping for inane details in the hopes one would matter, he saw nothing of use.

The day was bright, and clear. The town was quiet. If he turned slightly, he could pretend the wake of destruction didn’t exist.

But then he’d be ignoring the wires spilling out his front door, a shell of a car deposited in the center of the street- seeming to host most of the mess as a battery.

Valerie swore worse than ever below.

Nothing could help him right now. He was stuck either standing or jumping.

Or well, maybe he could at least do something about the gaping wound in his side… that might be good.

Slowly and carefully he stripped his hoodie off, noting that the hole was smaller than he’d been mentally giving it credit for.

His side still dripping as he dropped it unceremoniously, he realized that this was a dumb plan and that he couldn’t do anything anyways.

His side wasn’t a spot he could tourniquet. Pressure only helped so much in ghost form, as even with bones he was notably more squishy(?) than a normal human.

The fighting paused for one brief moment, before getting ten times worse, Valerie inadvertently teaching him new slurs for ghosts.

Danny looked over the edge of the building again, reaching for his pocket with a prayer.

…

“Hi, this is Jas-”

Click.

…

“Hi! If you don’t know-”

Click.

…

“You have reached this 🌟Too Fine🌟 of a voice mail-”

One last click off, phone thusly tucked back into his pocket.

Danny stood alone over what was closer to a three story drop than a two story drop (stupid vaulted ceilings…), and quietly sat on the edge as the fight below went silent and stayed silent.

Hand to his side regardless of if it’d help, he watched the car-battery-wire mess power down and simply waited.

Sure, he could jump, but the adrenaline was winding back down. He was already hurt, bad, in multiple ways. Valerie could fly and right now he couldn’t. There was nowhere on the street to hide and even if there was plenty of places the street over he wouldn’t get that far.

He was dead meat any way he went.

He could hear the ladder clack behind him as Valerie hauled herself up.

“What a surprise! All nice and ready for me.” Valerie huffed, immediately standing at the ready with a gun. Danny only just copped a glance before turning back towards the view.

Odd, no suit nor hoverboard. Maybe Technus had managed to hit her just right and made it shut off.

“Yeah. They go through the portal at least?” He asked, barely looking back as he gripped his side a little tighter.

“And here I- what? Um. Yeah, to my knowledge.” Valerie stuttered slightly, the earnestness of his question seeming to trip her worse than Danny’s previous bomb drop.

“Good. Lock the portal when you go back down. My parents will probably open it up by next week, but hey! Stops everything for now.”

Her steps towards him slowed to a crawl, and he could sense the caution and the suspicion even as she continued regardless.

God, he was really doing this. It occurred that he could still just shove himself off the edge, but he couldn’t think of anything that could possibly solve. Guns can be pointed over roof edges.

“Uh. Thank. You? B-But no uh, tricks or-”

She stopped by his side, gun still pointed as her eyes tracked across the roof for the surprise that simply must be coming.

“Valerie, I’m really sorry you think I could ever hurt you, but I’m out. Injured and done. It’s you or it’s splatting on the pavement. Dunno how much bounce back I’ve got left right now.”

“Any last… uhm-”

This is a super stupid way to die. But he’s pretty sure he’ll be a grease stain if he jumps, which is even stupider.

“I guess... Tell Sam, Tucker, and Jazz not to beat themselves up over it.” He hummed, finally looking at Valerie again.

He wondered how much of this mess the town behind him was seeing.

The gun shook silently before lowering and turning away.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Valerie asked softly, gun already dropping from her hands.

The gun dropped with an uncomfortable clatter as Danny gave the least shaky and uncomfortable smile he could manage, Valerie's eyes not even seeing him as she fixated on his stained hoodie.

“Phantom was never this sweet.”

Valerie clearly hadn’t focused on the words, so lasered onto her revelation that Danny’s brief twitch was entirely missed.

He couldn’t even be insulted right now; there was a certain amount of venom their fights had always had.

Silence extended further as Valerie only barely looked back up at him, still shaken.

“Thanks, I think. But uh. What now?” Danny asked, genuinely not sure. He just had to accept that insults to his other half could be addressed later.

How a reveal would go had always haunted him slightly, and this was probably a better ending than most of the realistic ones.

But even then, those fantasies always ended when she understood.

Valerie snapped to at the question, standing straight and returning to her facade of confidence.

“Helping. How’d they even do this to you?”

“Technus made Skulker a new gun, I think. It goes downhill from there.”

Carefully, Danny slid himself back onto the roof. He was struck with the sense that sudden moves would still get him killed, somehow. This was.. Too easy, almost.

Anxiety or not, the pain was also holding him back.

“Figures that those assholes would do this. Don’t suppose there’s an obvious way to fix this?”

“Not really? I mean… there might be something in the basement to help, but outside of that it’s not like I’ve got options beyond to sit here and suffer. Maybe see if Frostbite knows anything.”

“The basement, huh… Oh, thaaat’s why Skulker growled something out about it. Maybe we can-”

The GAV started wailing again, suddenly.

The offending vehicle was only streets away, and if he focused hard enough he could almost hear his dad yelling about having fixed something or other.

Farewell pain, hello adrenaline!

He was going to be so sick after today. He could just feel it.

“Bail!” He shouted, running back towards the ladder.

“What!?”

“Do you trust my parents not to shoot on sight!?”

The look of fear was immediate.

“Oh, god! Bail!”

In total agreement it was borderline a fight for the ladder and to get down to the first floor.

The wires hadn’t disappeared, leaving them precariously stood on the mess next to the kitchen.

“What’s your plan, Danny?! It’s their house!” Valerie hissed, eyeing him and the wires cautiously.

“WINDOWS ARE ALWAYS FAIR GAME!” He screeched, launching into the kitchen.

The voice of doubt in his head pointed out that it was incredibly lame for all his best executed moves for today to be so fundamentally stupid in nature.

Regardless, lifting the stand mixer and tossing it through the back window in one single uninterrupted motion, punctuated by the shattering of glass, was probably the smoothest thing he’d do today.

“YOU COULD HAVE OPENED THE WINDOW-”

“NO WE COULDN’T HAVE!” Danny yelled back, already launching himself through the opening regardless of potential cuts.

“WHAT?” Valerie screeched back, lingering before following suit.

“The Fenton Family Home Defense System locks the windows upon activation, with or without shutter activation! Even when it turns back off they’re stuck until you do a manual unlock!”

He was already bounding through the backyard, sailing himself over the fence without a second thought.

“Danny, in what world does that make sense!?”

Valerie was close behind.

“The one where my parents designed it! And the one where you’d then be stuck in a house with more weapons than people!”

“Danny, your parents are still nuts for locking-!”

“Losing battle! Pick and choose! Keep running!”

Valerie’s laugh was clear, like bells as they continued across town.

The stress was obviously getting to her- yet it was almost infectious. This was insane!

Eventually, well after they’d gone from a residential area back to business, he was yanked into a new back alley, Valerie still grinning as she caught her breath.

“And what about the door?”

“Also locked.”

She missed a beat before speaking again.

“So, what, not even the doors work until you do a system reset? That’s stupid.”

Danny had to laugh at himself right now.

“No, I just don’t remember the passcode! That door is pretty normal.”

“But you can’t leave without a code from the inside?”

“Normal for my house!” He giggled.

They were left with wheezing laughter over a near miss that wasn’t that funny to begin with.

Eventually Valerie’s hand left his shirt collar, moving to push him back slightly. Intimacy time over.

“Okay, Danny. Your parents are nuts and we don’t trust them not to shoot. Where are we going?”

“Well I could always hide in a dumpster again, but outside of that I don’t have any ideas. Sam’s busy and Jazz… well, is it Tuesday or is it Thursday, actually?”

Valerie gave him the blankest look imaginable for his question.

“It’s Saturday.”

… Well then!

“Okay, well, Jazz is tutoring. Probably. So she’s busy.”

“And Tucker, since you seem to trust your friends with this one?”

... What?

“Uh. At a tech camp somewhere in-”

“Got it. The basement might help, you said?”

Right, back to topic.

“I cannot stress that ‘might’ part enough. We’ve got a lot of weird stuff down there that’s come in handy in really stupid ways before.”

“Okay, well, that’s not great. You got an idea on how to get your parents out of the house?”

“Not in the slightest.” He admitted, shrugging as he spoke.

“Superb. Just fantastic. Okay, maybe we could camp at my place for an hour? At least until... or. Hm.”

Valerie finally lost her focus on him, looking to the side in thought.

Danny had to give credit where it was due that they were screwed in a different way, now.

Valerie’s fast turn saved his hide so he was certainly much farther than he thought he’d get, but there wasn’t much they could throw at his parents to make them disengage with the mess of wires Technus left behind. It was now valuable research material, at best.

Delightful.

“My place is probably for the best. Christ, that’s a distance to go.” Valerie muttered.

“Not to interrupt, but yeah actually. How are we getting there? Is your suit broken, or…?”

“Broken is a strong word. It self repairs, but yes, I’m grounded right now. And though I care about you, the huntress getting seen towing Phantom would not be good.”

There it was again, slighter than before but still present. The slight dissonance in how the situation was getting viewed.

Easy to shrug and move on though, right?

He probably shouldn’t.

“So… not to-”

“Look, we need to start moving. You’ve got a hat or something?”

“Man, I wish.”

“Okay, okay… shitty question, but Phantom can fly. Obviously. What can you do right now…?”

Uh.

“Uh. Nothing? Look, the blast- I think… Sorry, but what do you think happened? I just-”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed a touch in preemptive insult.

“Calling my explanation the abridged version gives it too much credit! I just want to make sure you understand what happened, and what you’re asking??”

Best cover he could’ve used, honestly.

Valerie cringed in on herself, obviously realizing something.

“Uhm, sorry, I didn’t mean to… Look, sorry. I know being in his body is probably really weird? But my place is over in Elmerton, and it’d be really helpful if one of us could… I’m sorry.”

She’d dodged the real question, but still managed to give the answer Danny needed.

In… this body…?

Oh. Oh boy.

#dp #danny phantom #ectoimplosion #ectoimplosion2023 #valerie gray #fic #collab #long

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mandareeboo · 1 month

Note

Ramshackle drabble prompt: Scrap cuddle pile?

The embers of the trash fire were slowly starting to fizzle out as they settled in for the night, Stone and Vinnie idly passing a smoke between each other while Skipp serenaded them with his mandolin.

"We should totally try for two cans of beans tomorrow," Vinnie urged, holding her hands out as if to picture it. "That's double the beans!"

"Gettin' greedy, are we?" Stone huffed out with a dry laugh.

"Hey, it could happen. We have good luck sometimes."

"Hear me out," Skipp says. "What if we got. Three cans of beans? That'd be one for each of us!"

Vinnie waved it off. "Nah. Good luck only comes in even numbers. Everyone knows that."

"Aw."

"Do you even know what even numbers are? It's not like you read."

"Shuddup." The last bit of light left the alley as the flames died out. Vinnie hopped to her feet and stretched. "Whelp, time for bed."

"Sleepover!" Skipp cried, as he was wont to do every night, grabbing and holding open the curtain that blocked their sleeping spot from the rest of the world. Built of tin, barbed wire, and some spit, it mostly kept out the rain and even the wind on occasion.

Stone groaned deep in his throat as Vinnie pulled out their one blanket. It was thin, full of patchwork and holes, an obnoxious brown color that no one could tell if it was dyed or dirt. "Can't we just-"

"Nope," she said, popping the p, as she began to bundle Stone up like a worm. "You need your blankie or you get hypothermia," Vinnie cooed with a shit-eating grin.

"I fuggin' hate you," Stone said blankly.

"Mattresses don't talk," Vinnie reminded him, laying against his bundled side. Skipp eagerly crowded in beside her so they were face to face. "Night, Skipp. Night, mattress."

"G'night," Skipp chirped.

Stone grunted.

They laid quietly in their makeshift pile for a bit, adjusting to the darkness. Ramshackle was never truly pitch black; streetlamps and the glow of all-night shops kept the world lit even as its homeless inhabitants tried to sleep.

"Guys," Skipp whispered. "I just had an idea."

"Go to sleep, Skipp," Stone grumbled.

"Mattresses don't talk," Vinnie repeated, elbowing him for good measure. "What's your idea, Skipp?"

"What if we found.... four cans of beans?"

Vinnie's eyes grew wide. "Oh shit! That'd be an even number!" She rubbed her chin. "What would we even do with four cans of beans?"

"Eat them," Skipp supplied.

"Well, yeah, but that's more beans than we've ever had before! Can we even eat that many?"

"We'd save it," Stone decided. "Have the rest fer breakfast."

"Oh, man, breakfast," Vinnie drew the word out with delight, too enamored to remind him not to speak. "When's the last time we had two meals in a row?"

They went back and forth like that for some time before finally they all began to nod off.

#Ask #Anon #Question Mandar #Drabble Prompts #Ramshackle #Skipp #Stone #Vinnie #Fun fact if you pay attention they have a little hideaway in the back of the alley!#It's got barbed wire and blankets

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sonicasura · 7 months

Text

I've been reading and going over Kaiju No 8 for awhile now. Kafka oozes pure disaster dad energy. The amount of times he accidentally parents his younger teammates and step in when need be is constant. Kafka clearly does a better job than a certain blonde teammate's father.

Anyway, why not really throw him through the dad shaped hole in the wall? I already got a few good examples. There's plenty of material from other media. I'll be adding some personal headcanons to Kafka's Kaiju behavior. Fully believe he wasn't unaffected mentally. Full headcanons here.

He has a feral side driven by primal maternal instincts. If the human half marks you as his kid(or whelp in kaiju term) then so will the other part. Feral side comes out under extreme distress like his whelps being in danger to a very powerful threat near them.

Kafka unconsciously exhibits animal behavior from his kaiju half. It ranges to purring, nuzzling, gentle headbutting, even grooming which includes licking. He's very embarrassed about that last bit cause he tries not to.

Also his Kaiju side is prone to adding changes without his consent. Extra appendages such as a tail, tendrils or even wings. This is merely so either mind can catch up and provide support like to his whelp. Kafka will struggle to will these away.

With that out of the way, let's get started.

Kirby

Yup. I'm really going there this time using Right Back At Ya cartoon for some inspiration. Kirby crashlands near Kafka's house a few years before the beginning of Kaiju No.8. The man across discovers the baby star warrior and is faced with an inner crisis.

It's clear Kirby is an alien but also a BABY. Kafka decides to keep the little pink puffball unaware of what said decision would bring. Like whenever he falls asleep, the man finds himself in Dreamland alongside Kirby. An unconscious effect from the Star Warrior that furthers strengthen into a small share of power aka being able to use Copy Abilities via Copy Essence.

Yup. I'm throwing Kafka through the ringer with the games first. He deserves a little heads up that his new kid is essentially a walking blackhole that can kill gods. Plus the boost is gonna be needed since Kafka won't have his Kaiju form until canon begins.

If you are wondering how he'll handle Kirby's appetite in his world, his job is cleaning up monster bodies. Thus any parts that will be trashed will go to the puffball instead. Yes, Kirby uses Cook Kirby to cook kaiju meat and share some with Kafka. A new business in the food entry might open up from it.

Finally we soon reach Kaiju No 8's events. Kirby is a stealthy little puffball who can find Kafka no matter where he is thanks to their bond. This connection being two way where emotions, location, current status and thoughts can be felt.

Kirby feels Kafka's distress from his kaiju transformation thus searches for him. Now the age range to join the Defense Force doesn't change here. Then how will Kafka keep his promise? Well it's quite a roundabout actually.

Kafka initially decided to help Reno get in while he tries to find a different legal way of getting into the forces. This way being an analyst from how quick he can pick out Kaiju weaknesses and strengths.

It was Reno's suggestion that led to this alongside being in the same division. Now Kafka trains his Kaiju abilities in both worlds. Finding training partners in Dreamland is easy but for his world it delves into vigilantism.

Kirby and him fight any kaiju that shows up on their radar if the Defense Force can't engage in time. The Star Warrior is listed as Kaiju No.8.5 by DF before you guys ask. It's mainly because he's never seen without 8.

How people view the duo is quite mixed. One part views them as heroes, one part is deciding/neutral and the last is a threat. A mix of emotions that even gotten to the Defense Force.

Engaging the two is very tricky and it's not just for potential backlash from the public. The Defense Force theorizes that No.8 treats No.8.5 as its whelp. Kaiju who follow their maternal instincts are much more dangerous than any other.

Thus everyone is in for quite a ride with this duo.

Rin Okumura

Next up we have the protagonist for Blue Exorcist and demon prince. I'll be doing a separated from birth scenario so Kafka shall be raising a more demon Rin. Earth and Assiah aren't in the same dimension either.

Now they don't officially meet until Rin is three. The cambion surviving on his own via animal blood, garbage or kaiju meat scraps. Kafka finds him when the toddler gets caught up in the aftermath of a Kaiju attack.

Like with Kirby, he's quite conflicted but decides to raise Rin. It starts off a little bumpy as the cambion much stronger than Kafka and his demon features are still present. Like the tiny horn nubs hidden underneath the fire, obvious tail, long ears, claws then finally fangs. Rin's flames only dissipate when he feels safe or content.

Can't forget his temperament either as Kafka been bitten a few times until the toddler truly trusts him. Once that does occur, anyone being mean to the man is met with Rin's wrath instead. Cambions are quite protective when it comes to their claims.

Kafka manages throughout it all as he plans how to become a Defense Force Member. His fellow Monster Sweepers know about Rin's condition and are fully protective of the kid. One reason why Kafka can keep attempting the test.

Rin is homeschooled and taught various things from controlling his fire to handling his anger than just basic education. The most important lesson is being reminded he is loved no matter what. The bond they both share grows stronger especially when Kaiju No.8's events officially starts.

Rin is present the moment Kafka turns into a kaiju. He also helps his father with this newfound power just like the man did for him. Reno is informed of Rin's inhuman status around the same time. Can I say brotherly relationship?

The father and son take out kaiju together but keep their identities hidden. No one has been able to identify Rin due to the young man always cloaking himself in blue fire. His obvious non-human visage marks him as Kaiju No.8.5.

The parent-whelp relationship between the two is quite clear to the Defense Force despite minimal confrontations. Analysts still try to clarify Rin's true form with no success from the intensity of the blue fire. Only thing they know is that he has a humanoid physique leading to speculations about both bearing a similar resemblance.

The cambion decides to join the Defense Force although as a potential trainee than full fledged member. Rin might be strong but he'll need to do some extra studies first. And an actual fighting style to use.

The path of the blade still follows Rin but he won't become an exorcist this time. Kafka will be there to help his son every step of the way. Whether they be human or not.

Link

Finally we got the bearer of the Hero's Spirit and eternal reincarnate, Link. I'll be going with BoTW/TotK iteration as I want to save OoT/MM for a different time. Linked Universe might have a part in this.

A camping trip gone wrong leads to late 20s Kafka to wake up outside the Shrine of Resurrection. He stumbles upon the newly awakened yet amnesiac Link. Feeling bad for the young man, Kafka helps the blonde on his journey. (Get home is a secondary goal.)

Throughout the adventure, Kafka helps Link more than just being a travel companion. He becomes an outlet for the Hero of Courage to express himself. A person to confess his sorrow, fears, and true feelings Link kept hidden from everyone else.

Unrelated note, Kafka is a magnet to fairy/divine creatures. Blupees follow him, the Great Fairies flirt, and the Sacred Dragons grant the man a gift should they cross paths. Kafka might've gotten a Blupee companion he named Konpeito.

Both however become separated upon the defeat of Calamity Ganon as Kafka returns to his world. (Konpeito comes with him.) One day, the older man begins to write letters to Link after receiving advice from a peculiar old woman. Letters that reach back and forth between the two worlds as they keep in contact.

Link and Kafka don't reunite until TotK begins. The latter has begun his first day as a kaiju. An accidental desperate wish from Link pulls the older man back to Hyrule. Both learn how to use their new powers as they journey to stop Ganondorf.

However Link's powers and Rauru's arms taken an unfortunate hold. The blonde slowly becoming a Zonai the more he uses his powers. Hero's Aspect is a conduit to make sure Link doesn't permanently lose his Hylian form. (I'll be designing the Zonai form later cause I don't like the Ancient Hero design. Also he's keeping Rauru's arm.)

Now this adventure comes with an incredible gift. A pair of Secret Stones that can allow travel between both worlds. Link decides to help Kafka join the Defense Force. Using his Zonai form, the Hylian hero helps the man fight kaiju in disguise.

Link is listed as Kaiju No.8.5 by the Defense Force since the two always fight together. Confrontation tends to be avoided especially when the Zonai got badly hurt amidst a kaiju battle. Kaiju No.8's fury and the immense damage to follow was proof enough.

Don't touch a whelp when the parent is around.

For Linked Universe(a fan LoZ comic series) shenanigans, it's a mix between being the Chain getting dumped there or Kafka and his son Tears get dragged in for temporary assistance. (TotK Link's nickname is Tears as BotW/Wild will be present). Entire reincarnation/curse business makes Kafka's head spin more than just the unknown enemy and portal mischief.

All these Links are technically his son so he is parenting all of them. Even Time(OoT/MM) whose probably a few years younger than him. Mostly everyone except for Wind(WW/PH) are befuddled or wary of the man who can become a mask monster. Nevermind the fact his world is ridden with giant beasts and kaiju attacks are normal.

Kafka is gonna have his hands cause everyone in the Chain reeks of various trauma. Trust issues, transformation based dysphoria, martyr behavior, and anything a Link adventure shall give. Plus his feral kaiju side is gonna rectify that whether everyone likes it or not.

"So what if you can turn into a wolf, Twilight(TP)? I think my scale covered mug would scare a lot more people." / "No one is gonna hurt you while I'm here, Hyrule(OG). They will be torn apart if they even dare try." / "Want some gum Wars(HW)? I heard it helps calm your nerves?"

Better watch out. This group of heroes got adopted by a himbo kaiju man and he won't hesitate to destroy anyone who dares harm them.

And that's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later.

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necros-writing-stuff · 1 year

Note

Okay hear me out: Eden with a coyote-girl wife

Yes, yes, yessss.

I dunno if you guys know this but coyotes are my favourite.

Male Eden, fem reader.

Eden finding you shivering beneath his porch after a storm with a wound on your shin. Looks like a wolf took a bite out of you, likely while you were trying to get some food.

He knows he should shoot you, you could have all manners of things wrong with you - but you're just so cute. You're naked, but he can't see your body because of how you're hunched over.

You don't even growl at him, your body stiff as you try to pull back, your eyes wide and frantic as he pulls your arm. A predator scared so bad they're acting like prey.

"Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you whelp," he huffs out, smiling when your ear twitches. Seems like you haven't eaten in a while with your sunken features. Eventually he gets you out, picking you up into his arms and carrying you inside.

As soon as he lets you down, you scurry beneath his bed. He feels your eyes on his back as he fills the bath up. Still, no sounds come from your mouth. No scurrying can be heard.

When the bath is ready, Eden has to pull you out again. You don't trust the water, moving for the first time as you fight to stay in his arms and not end up in the tub.

"Alright, alright. Its fine, watch."

Keeping one hand around your wrist at all times, he strips. This time when he picks you up you let out a whine, nails digging into his shoulders as he sits down.

Poor little thing, Eden muses as you crawl into his lap to stay as dry as you can. The hunter lathers his hands up with the bar of soap he keeps, stroking your skin and washing the dirt from your tail.

Those wide eyes turn to him, blinking as your head tilts. Slowly, stroke by stroke, you relax into his touch until he can wash you properly. He's careful with your ears, ensuring that water doesn't get in as he rinses them off with a cup. He's as gentle as he can be as he cleans your wounded leg. He saved between your legs for last.

Eden slowly trails his hand down your stomach, marvelling at how soft the little tuft of hair feels before he begins rubbing your clit. Your hands return to his shoulder, the grip tight once more as your hips buck and whines escape your mouth. Those little fange he sees peeking out should be threatening, but just like the rest of you, he thinks they're adorable.

There's no fighting when he repositions you in his lap, his hard cock desperate to find out what your wet little insides feel like. Heaven, thats what. He puls you down slowly, his head lolling back as his own groans join the cacophony of sounds you're making.

Eden grins wide when you do the moving for him, bouncing like an obedient pet as you nuzzle at his neck. The hunter finds himself glad that he didn't fill the bath up far, the water sloshing but unable to spill out.

It's been so long, he can't help himself from cumming so quickly. He's overly sensitive, hissing at the slight pain when he tries to pry you off. But he can't.

"F-fuck, stop girl, no more," he moans, abdominal muscles twitching while he grits his teeth.

You don't. Your arms circle his neck, the gyrating of your hips more incessant as your whines get louder.

Eden's eyes almost roll into the back of his head as another orgasm builds, his own body freezing with the pleasure being so intense.

You finally finish, your sweet cunt fluttering around his cock, milking him as you let out a strange screech that brings Eden back to the present. He'll... he'll have to train that out of you maybe. He'll have to train you in general, if you're gonna disobey him like that.

But that can wait. Because right now he can't feel his legs and you're falling asleep on his chest as the water cools.

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #'nw monster people'#afab reader #degrees of lewdity

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kaiijo · 2 years

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magnetic azul ashengrotto x reader summary: you and azul are polar opposites: he’s focused on academics and your talents lie in athletics; he’s sly and slick, and you’re as honest as they come. when you both hear that you’re at risk of failing certain classes, you’ll have to work together in order to pass your respective classes for the term. who knows, maybe the rules of magnetism will work in your favor: opposites attract, after all. word count: 4.2k

notes: gn! reader, frenemies to lovers, reader is implied as athletic (on the Spelldrive team, Floyd calls them “Swordfish” bc they’re one of the fastest sea creatures, etc. but no physical descriptions), mentions of food and eating

You stared at the exam in your hand, glaring at the big red D at the top corner as if that would make it change into an A, or at the very least, a B. Next to you, Kalim peeked over at your test and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, at least it’s not an F!”

Jamil, on the other side of Kalim, crossed his arms and said, “That’s not exactly a high bar, Kalim.” His eyes slid over to you and he added, “No offense.”

You sighed, flipping your paper over. “None taken.”

“Ooh!” You cringed at the voice, already mentally preparing yourself for the conversation that would ensue. “Didn’t do so hot, huh, Swordfish?”

You turned around to glower at Floyd, who stood in the row behind you with Jade and, of course, Azul Ashengrotto. Azul shot you a look of mock pity, shaking his head. “What a shame,” he said. “And this was one of the easier tests we had.”

Floyd grinned sharply. “I can’t wait to hear about Goldfishie’s reaction to this.”

“Okay, what did you geniuses get?” You sneered, already regretting your words. While Floyd’s grades were inconsistent at best — victims to his whims and moods — Azul and Jade never got anything less than As in most classes. Besides, Alchemy was Azul’s best class, so you heard.

Your face heated up as they showed you their papers, simpering and snickering. Floyd: B+, Jade: A, Azul: A+. You scoffed and turned back just in time for Kalim to say, “Whoa! Nice job, guys!” Oh, Kalim, ever the bright shining light of positivity.

“Better luck next time,” Azul said as the trio made their way out of the classroom. “Maybe if you applied yourself more, things would be different.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but decided against it. They already got enough of a rise out of you, you wouldn’t give them anything more. As more students cleared out of the classroom, with Kalim giving you one more word of encouragement before leaving with Jamil, Professor Crewel asked you, “Can I see you for a minute, pup?”

He waited until everyone was left before saying, “I must say, your performance on the last few exams have been horrendous.”

“I know,” you said. “This is already my worst class and with the big Spelldrive match between NRC and RSA, I—”

“No time for excuses, puppy,” he huffed. “I’m going to be frank with you: you’re at risk of failing Alchemy this term.” Your blood ran cold. If you thought Riddle was going to be mad about this recent test score, you really weren’t looking forward to having him find out this. “If you don’t do well on the end of term exam, you won’t pass.”

“I—”

“I would tell Vargas to bench you from the team,” Crewel continued, “but that man listens about as well as a newborn pup. So, it’s up to you to balance your practices with improving your performance in this class. Am I understood, whelp?”

You swallowed down the knot in your throat and nodded. Crewel directed his pointer at the door. “You’re dismissed. I hope you can whip yourself into shape before the term ends.”

“Yes, sir,” you said and you left quickly. You pressed your hand to your warm face, willing it to cool down so you could at least appear a little less flustered. Walking down the hall, your mind spun. You didn’t know what it was about Alchemy class but you had a hard time grasping the core concept of it, which was transformation of matter like making thaumarks into solid gold bars, as well as actually performing spells that would do just that. You didn’t know where to even start to improve for the class. Additionally, Coach Vargas had increased the amount of practices in anticipation of the upcoming tournament, calling them at all hours of the day including early mornings before classes, and a few right after dinner.

Your head throbbed at the sheer stress of it all, and you let out a long groan in the empty hallway. Or, what you thought was the empty hallway. “Still upset about the test?” You jumped slightly, finding Azul seated in one of the archways that ran along with walls, overlooking the courtyard. He sat up and you said, “Aww, you waited for little old me?”

Azul twitched slightly and he said, “N-no. I was balancing the lounge’s checkbook.”

“Don’t you usually do that in your office?”

Azul replied, “Is it a crime to want a change of scenery?”

You shrugged and said, “No, but I just think it’d be easier to do that at a desk.”

“Like I said, change of scenery.”

You walked closer to him. “I’m surprised you’re doing all this right after class. My head hurts enough from the lecture as is.”

“Anyways,” he said, “You should probably be on your way. Lots to do before the end of the term.”

Your eyes narrowed. “So you were listening.”

“Maybe you should have closed the door before having that conversation with Professor Crewel.”

“Maybe you should have just balanced the checkbook in your office.”

“I could help you with Alchemy. For a price, of course.”

You scoffed, “I’m not being drawn into any of your shady deals, Azul.”

He frowned this time and you could have sworn he almost looked hurt. “You know I don’t do that anymore. I was just going to say that you’d need to earn points at Mostro Lounge in order to do so.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart a little heavy at your presumption. “I’ll think about it.” You glanced down the hall. “I should get going, get some rest before next period and figure out how to break this to Riddle.”

When Azul didn’t reply, you started to make your way down the hall and towards the Hall of Mirrors. You paused and said over your shoulder, “I know you don’t do that stuff anymore, Azul.” He didn’t say anything again and you sighed quietly, continuing down the corridor.

“You’re what?!” You flinched a little at Riddle’s shriek. Most people would have more subdued reactions to bad news when told in a public setting but you forgot, somehow, that your housewarden wasn’t like most people. While less demanding than before, he still insisted on striving for perfection or something close to that.

You pushed around your dinner with your spoon and mumbled, “I’m failing Alchemy.”

Riddle’s face was getting toward that bright red color but, as he saw other students turning to look at your table and your own miserable face, he just let out a long breath. “As a Heartslabyul student,” he said, voice still tight but quieter, “you know that this is not up to the standards of our dorm.”

“I know.”

“How are you planning on bettering yourself?” Riddle asked, his eyes boring into your soul.

“I don’t know, but I know I need to pull myself together fast.”

He nodded. “Yes, you do.”

Trey and Cater joined your table, Deuce and Ace not far behind. “What’s the happs?” asked Cater as he slid in next to you.

Riddle looked at you and you replied, “Failing Alchemy.”

Deuce hissed, “That’s rough.” Ace bobbed his head in agreement but, surprisingly, didn’t add anything else as he shoved a large bite of food into his mouth.

“Hey, Trey,” Cater piped up, “isn’t your best class Alchemy? Maybe you can tutor them.”

Trey opened his mouth but you beat him to it. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. “I know the upperclassmen have a lot on their plates right now. Besides, this is my mess to clean up.”

“Azul’s pretty good at Alchemy, right?” asked Deuce. “Maybe you could ask for his help.”

Azul’s earlier offer rattled around in your mind, and you recalled the way his expression fell when you said you didn’t want to be a part of his “shady deals.” Your stomach twisted and you just said flatly, “Maybe.” You took another bite of your food, suddenly not hungry. “Want to finish this off for me?” you asked Ace and he nodded, taking your plate.

Trey chuckled, “I don’t know if you should be using your underclassmen as trash disposals.”

You let out a weak laugh of your own before leaving quickly. You didn’t know why the guilt was gnawing so viciously at you. Your conversation with Azul had been brief and his negative reaction had only been a split second, yet it had you like this.

Your relationship with Azul was… complicated, to say the least. The two of you butt heads a lot, ever since first year. You threw snide comments at one another but somehow, neither of you really disliked each other either. You definitely weren’t friends, but you weren’t exactly enemies either — frenemies, then?

Your remark had been thoughtless, especially considering Azul’s Overblot episode and what you had heard was the root of it. It was a low blow and a half-baked comment, and as you thought more about it, your guilt weighed you down more. Instead of heading for your dorm like you had wanted, you entered Octavinelle when you got to the Hall of Mirrors.

The Mostro Lounge was bustling as usual. It made sense, given that it was dinner and many students chose to dine there instead of the cafeteria. You stood at the entrance awkwardly before Jade saw you and strolled over. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi, Jade,” you said. “I was wondering if Azul was free. I want to talk to him.”

“Can I see your point card?”

“Oh, it’s not for a consultation. I want to… apologize to him about something I said earlier.”

“Ah!” Jade seemed a little taken aback and he thought for a moment before nodding, guiding you to the back of the lounge. “He’s in the office.”

“Thanks.” You opened the door, finding Azul inside, hunched over more papers. He was dressed in his Mostro Lounge uniform, though the hat sat on his desk next to the lamp.

He looked up when you came in and his eyebrows raised. “I wasn’t expecting any guests tonight.”

“No, I came to apologize about what I said earlier about the shady business things.”

He straightened a little, fixing his glasses though there was nothing wrong with them. “Thank you,” he said. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again, “Have you figured out what to do about Alchemy?”

“Not yet.”

He studied you for a moment and then asked, “If I remember correctly, Flying is your best subject, right?”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

He rolled his eyes, thought it was directed at you, and said, “You and I are in similar situations right now.”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced at you and huffed, “Do I need to spell it out?”

“You really can’t expect me to know what you’re—”

“Vargas told me that I need to be within the top ten times for the upcoming Flying course otherwise I won’t pass the class this term.” Azul scowled as he spoke. You couldn’t say that you were very surprised. While you weren’t in Azul’s Flying class, you had heard about how mortifyingly terrible he was at it from Jamil and Kalim.

“Okay,” you said. “I’m still not getting why you’re telling me this.”

“How can you not see what I’m suggesting? See? This is why you’re doing so poorly in Alchemy.”

“Hey,” you barked in a warning tone. Azul winced slightly and muttered out a half-hearted, sheepish apology before finally explaining, “Instead of you earning points for a tutoring consultation, you would help me with Flying and I’d help with Alchemy. A quid pro quo.”

You considered it for a moment, unable to find any real downside to the proposal. You could say that having to spend that much time with Azul is a downside but you couldn’t find it in you to actually convince yourself that that was a bad thing. At the most, it would be a little annoying but not wholly unpleasant.

“You can take some time to think,” Azul said. “But I’d need the answer by—”

“Let’s do it,” you finally said.

Azul smiled. “Wonderful.” With a wave of his hand, a contract appeared. You jumped back from it slightly and at your wariness, Azul said, “It’s just a formality but it will ensure we both uphold our ends of the deal.”

You read the contract, feeling a wave of relief wash over you when you saw that it just said you had to help each other, not that the help would need to result in success. You were pretty hopeless in Alchemy and you had heard that Azul was a lost cause in Flying, so you weren’t sure exactly how much either of you would improve. Regardless, at least this was a way to attempt to better yourselves. Satisfied, you took the pen from Azul’s hand and signed your name on the dotted line at the bottom of the contract. With a flick of the rest, it rolled up and fell into Azul’s hand. “Alright,” he said. “A deal’s a deal. Meet tomorrow during our shared free period in the library.”

“Okay.” You checked your watch and cursed internally. “I’ve got to go. Don’t want to be late to practice. Vargas will skin me alive and then nobody would help you with Flying.”

“Then you’d better hurry.”

“See you tomorrow, Ashengrotto.”

You barely managed to make it on time to practice, beating Vargas by only a minute or two. Ruggie looked at you, saying, “You’re normally here earlier. What gives?”

“Had something to attend to.”

“That sounds pretty suspicious,” he replied, tilting his head and flicking his ears. “Sparing any more details?”

“Not at the moment.”

He snorted but turned his attention to Vargas as your coach launched into what exercises and drills you’d all be doing.

“Okay,” Azul said as he returned to the alcove the two of you had scored with a small stack of textbooks. “These should cover the basics.”

“The basics?” you gasped, gaping at the pile. “Azul, we don’t have time for the basics!”

He glared at you. “If you don’t have a good foundation down, you won’t get anything else. Alchemy builds on itself.”

“Can— what if we just start from where I really started to slip up?”

He sighed, “Fine. Where did you start to lose track of the subject?”

“Purification of the elements.”

Azul stared at you for a good minute before he slowly said, “That’s part of the basics.”

You groaned, “Fine, fine! We’ll start with the basics then!”

He gave you a smug look and flipped open the textbook at the top of the pile. “Here,” he said, opening it to the twelfth page and scooting his chair closer to you. Your nose caught notes of plumeria and sea salt. It reminded you of the ocean. Azul called your name. “Are you listening?”

“Yes!”

“What did I just say?”

“Uh…”

“You need to focus. You said it yourself, there’s no time to waste.”

“Right, right.”

“So, the concept of purification originated…”

“Azul, you can’t just stand and jump over your broom. Flying doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m visualizing my success,” Azul insisted, hopping again. Still, the broom laid motionless on the grass.

“Flying isn’t about visualization,” you said, mounting your own. “It’s about doing and practicing. It’s not like academics where you can think your way through.” You kicked off the ground, hovered on the ground for a moment before leaning forward just a bit and soaring off into the air.

You loved this feeling — the wind in your hair and face, the smell of the sky, and exhilaration of defying the laws of gravity. You spiraled up before taking a steep dive down, zooming past Azul and circling back, planting your feet safely on the ground.

Azul huffed, “Show off.”

“Hold your broom like this,” you said and he copied your movements, straddling the broom and gripping the handle. “Now, kick off.”

“Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing?”

“No.”

He did a little hop and the broom lifted him for a second before he fell back down the ground with a yelp and then a grunt. “Jamil was right,” you said, “you are bad at this.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be encouraging, not deprecating?”

“Sorry. Get up, try again.”

“Those still aren’t words of encouragement.”

“You need to visualize the spoon turning into a tea kettle.”

“I know, it’s— that just seems so absurd.”

“If we governed our lives based on what made sense, magic wouldn’t even be here.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“I know. Now visualize the tea kettle. What color is it?”

“Uh, does it matter?”

“No, I’m just trying to make you see it in your mind.”

“Okay, okay. It’s white and patterned with roses.”

“You really are a Heartslabyul student.”

“Guilty as charged, Your Majesty.”

“Isn’t it ‘Your Honor’?”

“Not for Heartslabyul.”

“Hey! Not bad, you actually flew from one end to the other!”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not! You could barely hover two feet off the ground last time! Now that you’ve gotten that, we’ll move onto steering and then speed control.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m setting up one of the courses Vargas had us do last year. I remember Kalim telling me you totally wiped doing it.”

“Shut up.”

“It’ll be good for you to face it again and conquer it!”

“How do you know I won’t, as Kalim said, ‘wipe out’ again?”

“I have faith in you!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

With the end of the term fast approaching, you and Azul spent whatever free time either of you had with each other for the past few weeks. You had worked out a solid schedule that outlined when each of your respective tutoring sessions were, how long they were, and what goals you needed to reach for the day.

On the last mock exam Azul had given you, you got a B-, which was one of the highest grades you’d gotten in Alchemy in a while. Azul, similarly, had figured out how to speed up and slow down his broom and control its direction, which was huge.

You were waiting in the Mostro Lounge for Azul to grade the mock exam you just took when Jade came gliding over, glass in hand. He placed it at your table and you glanced up at him. “What’s this?”

“A piña colada, on the house,” he said, tacking on, “Non-alcoholic, of course.” You looked at the drink and the little umbrella in it.

“I’m surprised you do tropical stuff, since you’re from the colder parts of the Coral Sea.”

Jade chuckled, “We try to branch out.”

You nodded and he slid into the booth next to you. “So, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Azul.”

“We’re tutoring each other.”

“Yes, I know,” Jade said. He watched as you sipped the drink, and you squared your shoulders, doing your best to not shy away under his intense gaze. There was always an ongoing debate about who was scarier, Jade or Floyd; if you had to make a choice, Jade’s calm exterior that hid deep, dark depths unsettled you more than Floyd’s wild mood swings.

Speak of the devil… “If it isn’t Swordfishie,” Floyd cooed, slipping into the space on your other side of the booth. Unlike Jade, he pressed close and said, “For all the time you’re with Azul, you’re hardly ever here. Hurts our feelings, you know?”

Your pulse sped up a little. “We’ve been in the library and on the sports field.”

“I want to tell you a secret,” Floyd chirped, squeezing closer. He leaned in and said, “Azul doesn’t usually make deals like yours.”

You glanced between him and Jade. “What do you mean?”

“He usually does consultations for tutoring,” Jade explained, leaning back in the booth, leather squeaking slightly. “As for Flying, he’s not really one to ask for help with that. Coach Vargas usually makes someone help him.”

“Also, also!” Floyd said, pushing your drink a little closer to you. “Azul asked us to make this for you.”

Your face was getting very hot very fast. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“So you can sort things out,” Jade said, his eyes flickering to something over Floyd’s shoulder. With that, he stood, Floyd following. He smiled and bowed slightly. “We hope you’ve enjoyed your stay at the Mostro Lounge, no matter how brief.”

“Hope to see you here again soon, Swordfish!” Floyd added and they slunk off to the back.

You didn’t have a chance to process what they had said before you saw Azul making his way to you in short, hurried steps. That must have been what made them leave.

“Did you like the drink?” Azul asked.

You looked down at the glass and nodded. “It was really nice. Thanks for sending it over.”

He seemed a little startled that you knew but he shot you with one of those corporate smiles. “Of course.” His eyes moved to the direction the twins had gone and he asked, “What were you doing with them?” He sounded a little… off.

“Oh! They came over to me, Jade first, then Floyd,” you said. “I swear I wasn’t trying to distract your staff.”

Azul let out a forced, somewhat weak laugh. “W…what did they say to you?”

You hesitated, wondering if you should tell him what they said. “Floyd said you were the one who requested the drink for me.”

His shoulder relaxed just a little but you could see the tension he held still. “I see.” Before you could say anything else, he held out your exam that you had totally forgotten about.

“How did I do?”

“You tell me.”

You sucked in a deep breath and flipped the paper over. A big, red A sat at the top of the test with a “Congratulations” next to it, written in Azul’s sharp, neat handwriting. You stared at the piece of paper for what felt like an eternity, unblinking, scared the letter would morph a lower one if you did. “Good job,” Azul said, snapping you from your reverie. “Your hard work has paid off. A few more study sessions and the exam should be fine for you.”

You couldn’t hide your broad grin and you threw your arms around Azul, catching him in a hug. He took a few seconds before he reciprocated and as you pulled back, you studied his face for a second — little pinker than normal. “Alright,” you said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get out on the field! Your times have been improving, so you might make a top-ten-worthy one today.”

You’re running around school trying to find Azul. You had just gotten your exam back from Crewel, and you knew that Azul had just wrapped up his Flying course. He wasn’t in any of the usual classrooms, nor was he in the cafeteria. You peeked into the Mostro Lounge, where you found Floyd and Jade, who told you they didn’t know where he was either. You caught Ruggie, who was in Azul’s Flying class, and asked him if he’d seen where he went. Ruggie said, “He ran right off as soon as class ended.”

You were turning a corner when you literally crashed into Azul. You knew it was him from his signature yelp, a sound you had heard many times during your flight practices. “Sorry, sorry!” you said, holding a hand out and helping him off the ground. He straightened out his glasses and you two gazed at each other for a second before asking at the same time, “How did it go?”

“You first,” he said.

You struggled to contain yourself as you eagerly shoved your paper at him, big A- written in the corner. “Congratulations,” he said. “I told you your hard work would pay off.”

“What about you? How did it go?”

“Placed ninth,” he said proudly and you clapped.

You two stood in the hall for a few minutes, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. You broke the silence. “I don’t think I ever actually thanked you for your help. I… I really don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t help.”

“I have to say the same to you,” he replied. He pursed his lips and his eyes left you, looking around the hall contemplatively. Then, his gaze returned to you and, quietly, he asked, “What happens now?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve spent a lot of time together these past few weeks,” he said, clearing his throat. “I was just… are we going to be back to where we were before?”

“No, no. I don’t want that,” you told him. “I… I’d like to say that I consider you a friend now.”

Azul glanced carefully at you. “What if…?” You cocked your head and he continued, “What if I asked you if you wanted to be more than that— than friends?”

“Oh!” Your face heated up. Azul started to backtrack but you interrupted him, “I’d like that too!”

He relaxed and Azul’s worried expression was replaced with his normally self-assured one. “Right. Well, would you like to have dinner together tonight? At the Mostro Lounge, I know the owner.”

You laughed, “I’ve heard he’s pretty charming. A little full of it and he’s not the best flier, but, somehow, very endearing.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst x reader #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

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