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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

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And they were roommates

Eddie x reader fic based on this post

1.6k words (smutish kinda, there's masturbation obvi but they don't go "all the way")

Eddie knew he needed a roommate if he was going to afford moving out of his uncle’s place but he didn’t expect it to be her. There weren't many college aged kids looking for roommates in Hawkins, so what were the odds the girl he had a massive crush on in highschool would end up moving in with him.

Turns out the odds were 100% because that’s exactly what happened. And now she wasn’t just in his wet dreams, she was in his house. Key word just, because she was very much still in his wet dreams.

She was just SO hot and he was around him ALL the time. Obviously since it was her home too, she wasn’t always fully dressed. Which was fine, he wasn’t going to judge a woman for wearing pajama shorts in her own house. But his dick certainly had a lot to say about it.

Because those shorts were SHORT and TIGHT and based on the way they fit snugly without any lines he could assume she didn’t wear any underwear with them.

So yeah, maybe late and night when he assumed she was asleep he would jerk off to the thought of her. Harmless stuff really, he would never do anything to make her uncomfortable but sometimes he needed a little release.

Tonight was one of those nights. In his defense she had bent over to pick something off the floor this morning and he got a perfect view of her red lace thong. Red was such a good color on her, and even better material for his jerkoff sessions.

He always imagined her sauntering into his room, confident as always, wearing just some tiny scrap of fabric that she apparently considered underwear. Or no, not just that. Maybe she would be wearing one of his shirts too. He loved it when she wore his clothes.

Recently she had taken to wearing his shirts around the house. And while he would never in his right mind tell her to stop, it did make things a bit inconvenient for him. Because his shirts were just a bit too long on her, meaning she often didn’t wear pants with them which was a whole other issue.

So he was pretty much done for. Not that he had much of a dating life before moving in with her, but it was completely gone now. The same could not be said for her. In the late hours of the night she was known to have a lot of visitors. He wouldn’t mind except for the fact that the walls were thin and he could hear everything.

Her partners were always gone by the morning which he appreciated but that didn’t change the twinge in his chest when she came into the kitchen with a self satisfied smirk and downed the rest of the orange juice from the carton, uttering simply “Gotta stay hydrated.”

He knew what it meant when she said she was “going out for the night.” So this time he decided to step in. While she was gathering her things and doing her hair he popped in without a plan in mind and asked “Why don’t you stay here tonight and watch a movie with me?”

She replied with a sweet smile, setting her things down on the bathroom counter. “Sure. Sounds fun!”

He was already riding high on the fact she put off her plans for him so when she snuggled next to him on the couch he was on cloud nine. It was a scary movie and by the end of it they were huddled together for dear life.

Something that was making it a bit hard for him to focus since she was practically sitting on his lap, her hot breaths brushing his neck and making him tense everytime she squirmed to get comfortable.

His hands snaked around her waist to keep her in place and stop his situation from getting any worse. However, the gentle surprised gasp that she let out wasn’t helping him in the slightest.

“Stop moving, you’re squishing me,” he lied.

“You’re so mean, Eddie,” she whined, pushing her hips back until she was flush with his front. He prayed to whatever god was out there that she couldn’t feel his obvious erection poking her.

“Are you done now?” he grumbled, not annoyed in the slightest just a bit inconvenienced from the way she was moving against him.

“Yep!” she replied cheerily, snuggling into his chest and stilling her motion.

Fuck fuck fuck. He could smell her from how close she was sitting, the scent of her vanilla and cinnamon shampoo permeating the air. Even if by some chance she didn’t notice he was rock hard against her ass she would easily notice that he had stopped breathing.

“Eds, what's wrong?” she asked softly, noting the difference almost immediately.

It's not like he could tell her the truth. I cant be around you without thinking about how much I want to fuck you and also I’m in love with you and also your shampoo smells really nice. He didn’t think that would go down very well.

“I’m tired. Are you tired?” he replied quickly, shooing her off his lap and leaving the room as quickly as he could.

She shook her head, having noticed his strange behavior a while ago. She had a couple ideas of what it might be but she never liked to assume. So she retired to her room as well, annoyed and confused.

Back in Eddie’s room, he had shucked his pants to the floor almost immediately and he was stroking his cock as quietly as he could. Usually he would turn on loud music to drown out the sound but since he had said he was going to sleep this wasn’t an option.

He couldn’t help the string of praises and mumbling of her name that fell from his lips. “Fuck. That’s it. You take me so good. Fuck baby, so good.”

Although his words were muffled by the wall, his roommate could hear a bit and she was intrigued to say the least. She wasn’t oblivious to the way he looked at her but she never had the nerve to confront him about it. Being roommates made things weird and she really did like living with him.

But she was ready to put everything on the line for the sweet sounds he was making. And to be able to hear them up close without the barrier of the wall, she couldn’t stop herself. Quickly she stripped down to only one of his t-shirts, knowing exactly what effect it would have.

She giggled as she krept down the hallway, making a show of flinging his door open. “What the hell, Eddie?” she yelped, as if she had no idea what was going on (she had a pretty good idea)

“Shit. Sorry. Did you hear that?” He scrambled to pull the blankets over himself, only giving her a brief glimpse of what he was packing. It was a lot. The thought of it made her mouth water.

“Yep,” she giggled, sauntering over to his bed casually. She sat next to him and he audibly gulped.

“Oh.” He stared at her blankly, confused about what was going on and a little delirious from being so close to cumming.

“Why did you stop?” she asked innocently, peering at him through her lashes and batting them seductively. She knew exactly what it was doing to him from the dark red dusting his cheeks.

“Uh…” He just sat there slack jawed, his hand resting on his stomach just above where he really needed it to be.

“I didn’t say you could stop.” Her tone was sharp now, her eyes narrowed into a firm glare. At Least it would be a glare if the lust in her eyes wasn’t so clear and present.

He brought his hand back to his length, rubbing over it slowly to get back into the right rhythm. He still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but he’d be damned if he didn’t take full advantage of this opportunity. “Fuck. You like this? You wanna watch me?” he asked incredulously, his voice shaky and desperate.

She would be lying if she said seeing him like this wasn’t incredibly arousing. She coaxed the blanket off of him so she could get a better view of his large hand pumping up and down his even larger cock. “Mhm. I wanna see you cum and then you can fuck me.” She rested her hand on his thigh, rubbing comforting circles on the exposed skin.

“Not gonna take long, ‘specially with you here.” He whimpered when she slid a hand into his hair, forcing his eyes to meet hers. His breathing was heavy and he was struggling to hold on long enough for it to not be embarrassing.

She laughed at that. She fucking laughed. Laughing at his desperation, she left a trail of wet hot kisses down the column of his throat. “That's it. Good boy. Such a pretty cock,” she praised, doing the best to negate his efforts of holding off his orgsm.

“Fucking. Hell,” he moaned, thick ropes of cum spilling out and covering his fist and stomach. Her hand went to wrap around his and bring his fingers up to her mouth, licking his spend off of each digit and moaning around them.

She went to work licking his release from his spent cock and his stomach, pressing random kisses and sucking marks into his skin as well. He was already getting hard again from the attention, squirming beneath her with arousal.

“You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, tipping his head back against the headboard and groaning loudly.

Taglist here:

@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven @tinyboxxtink @hold-our-destiny @weh-heh-heh

(Lmk if u wanna be added)

#stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction

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willowworkswithwords · 1 year

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Good Morning Coffee – Seth Avett

Steve just couldn’t get a break, could he?

This customer was ridiculous, truly. They were gonna run out of sugar at the rate he was going, and they were a coffee shop. They ordered enough sugar to supply a whole neighborhood’s worth of sugar.

It was like each week he changed his order just so, adding a touch more or “oh yes please add whipped cream to that” (as if they hadn’t learned the first time that he absolutely needed whipped cream, even that one time he got a black coffee. Which, to be fair, made it not a black coffee).

Steve got the impression he was a funny guy, for all Robin laughed and laughed each time he came to the window. He made Steve wish they were the kind of coffee shop to ask for people’s names, or wish, for just a fleeting second once or twice a day, that he could hear well enough to actually take orders through the headset. And, damn him, this guy only came in during the morning rush and only through the drive thru. Steve didn’t really know anything about him, besides a guess at outrageous dentist bills and a glimpse or two of dark, curly hair piled in a high bun.

So Steve just made this man’s coffee around eight o’clock every morning, and wondered.

- - -

“Steve, you’re squinting.”

“Shut up Robin, I’m fine.”

“Have you taken your meds yet?”

Steve turned his back to her, eyes focused on the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robin cross her arms.

“Steve, my beautiful friend. Take your medication.”

“Rob, really, I’m ok—”

Bells.

Steve turned around with a smile, launching into his spiel before he’d even fully turned around. And when he did, the words died in his mouth.

“Hello welcome to Groovy Gary’s—”

Dark curly hair. Silver rings. It was the sugar guy. He was. Wow. He was something else. He had tattoos, his outfit all black, piercings and bracelets and and and—

Reboot, Harrington, stop staring.

“Hi!”

Too chipper, Steve. Robin smothered a laugh from where she was covering the window, and Steve wanted to melt into the sticky floor.

“Hey there.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face and Steve was only sort of annoyed by it.

“How can I help you?”

Act natural Harrington, act natural. He tried to lean against the counter and put his hand directly into the cup of stopper sticks. Sugar-guy saw. Shit he definitely saw. Steve cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

“I was coming in for a coffee.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes.

“A coffee? I don’t know, we might be low, I’ll have to ask Robin if we have any in stock.”

A shit-eating grin.

“You remember my order?”

“How do you know it’s me making it?”

Sugar-guy glances around behind the counter. It’s only Steve and Robin, as it’s almost always only Steve and Robin. Except on—

“Except on Thursdays. That grumpy guy makes mine on Thursdays.”

Steve laughs.

“Keith.”

“He hates me.” His voice is full of despair, and Steve laughs again.

“Wow, what are you gonna do? You’re not every baristas favorite customer.”

“Am I your favorite customer?”

Steve pretends to think, tapping his finger against his chin.

“Well man, you never get the same thing in a row, but your variations are definitely interesting.”

“You know my variations?”

Sugar-guy is looking at Steve up through his lashes, hair pulled across his mouth, barely hiding the grin.

“Do you only eat sugar?”

Another laugh.

“Hey, I order black coffee sometimes.”

“Dude, you order it with whipped cream. That’s not black coffee.”

A car horn blares outside the drive-thru window. Robin comes up on Steve’s right.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Steve, it’s Mrs. Click. She’s spitting mad already, which I don’t how that’s possible because it looks like she just rolled out of bed. They wrong side of the bed, maybe.”

“Oh Jesus, ok.” He turns to sugar-guy.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I never got your order.”

“Oh, nothing for me today. Got something for you.”

Steve tilts his head and automatically takes the things Eddie holds over the counter. With a wink Steve barely catches, sugar-guy’s walking out the door. Steve looks down at the…napkin? The folded napkin. He unfolds it.

Eddie Munson 432-9090

Steve doesn’t stop smiling all day.

#this has been in my docs #for a hot minute #and i decided to finish it #it makes me smile #and i hope it makes you smile too #cuteness #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #the song link is a youtube link #for those who don't have spotify #eddie's number is completely random #robin buckley #wingman robin buckley #willow writes #willow talks

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edsmidnightrain · 11 months

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Strings

Hey y'all, I'm on a 15 hour road trip and decided to write this ficlet that been in my drafts for months. So here's 1k words of Steddie with equal parts smut and angst. Hope y'all enjoy.

Also inspired by prompts 186 “No strings attached.”, 187 “Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?” , 29 “There was never an us.” and 30 “So that’s it? It’s over?” from this list

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Steve and Eddie had been spending a lot of time together since the upside down, hell, Eddie had practically moved in and Steve was totally okay with it, he was doing fine. Except he wasn’t doing fine, Steve could feel himself falling for Eddie more and more as the days passed. And sure Eddie had come out to the party as gay, but that didn’t automatically mean he liked Steve. He was sure Eddie would want someone who was into the same things as him. Someone who liked Metal, and D&D. Not someone like Steve who is the complete opposite of him, a preppy jock who listens to top 40 and wears polo shirts. However, knowing Eddie probably didn’t reciprocate his feelings and getting over said feelings were two separate things and Steve hadn’t mastered the moving on part just yet. Meanwhile, Eddie laid on the pet names and was always pretty touchy with Steve which made his feelings worse. But Steve knew that Eddie was just being friendly and funny even if he sometimes wondered what it would be like if Eddie did like him back.

One day, the two were hanging out at Steve’s house while his parents were away as they often were. They were sitting on the couch watching a movie Steve didn’t really care about but Eddie seemed excited for. Eddie was leaning into his space and Steve couldn’t take it any longer. He grabbed Eddie’s stupid, perfect face in his hands and kissed him. Eddie was shocked at first but quickly started kissing back. They made out for a while before Steve pulled back.

“Eddie…”

“It’s okay Stevie, it doesn't have to mean anything, just two friends helping each other out, no strings attached right?”

“Right.” Steve said and pulled Eddie into another searing kiss.

This went on for a few minutes until both boys were breathless and half hard. Eddie pulled back this time, “do you wanna keep going or…”

“Yes, fuck please.”

“Shit I love when you beg sweetheart.”

Steve practically melted at the pet name like he did everytime Eddie let it slip.

Steve couldn’t handle the sexual tension anymore and dropped to his knees without warning. Eddie immediately spoke up, “woah Stevie you don’t have to-”

“I really really want to Eds. Please.”

“Fuck okay baby go ahead.”

That was a new one, Eddie had never called him baby before and Steve was already addicted to the way the word sounded coming out of Eddie’s mouth. Steve pulled Eddie’s jeans down and began to kiss his now fully hard cock through his briefs. Eddie gasped and let his hands slide into Steve’s famous hair. Steve decided he’d teased enough and pulled Eddie’s dick out of his boxers, kissing the tip a few times before taking the head into his mouth. Eddie’s hands tightened in Steve’s hair at the feeling of his hot mouth around Eddie’s cock. Steve continued his movements until Eddie’s dick hit the back of his throat. He pulled off quickly to breathlessly mutter five words, “Fuck my face Eddie. Please.” Eddie moaned just from hearing Steve say those words and quickly pushed his cock back into Steve’s mouth, roughly thrusting into the wet heat of Steve’s throat. Steve had tears falling down his cheeks and was moaning around Eddie’s cock adding to the older boy’s pleasure. Eddie came hard into Steve’s mouth with one final thrust. Steve swallowed as much as he could, letting the rest drip down his chin. He relished in the salty taste of Eddie’s cum and smiled fucked out and dopey.

Eddie took one look at Steve and immediately switched their positions so Steve was on the couch and Eddie was on his knees. “Eddie wait-” Steve spoke up as Eddie pulled down his pants and boxers to find that Steve had come in his pants while sucking him off.

“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

“ Fuck you, you clearly know the answer to that.”

A few minutes later, Steve speaks up again, “Do you think we could do this again, still no strings attached obviously but like I had fun and something tells me you did too.”

“Course Stevie, nothing wrong with two guys helping each other get off.”

“Okay good.”

“Yes, now let’s start the movie over since someone so rudely interrupted it.

A few months had passed and Steve and Eddie were still hooking up almost everyday, both still assuring themselves that it was just between friends and there were no feelings involved. However both boys knew it was deeper than that. Especially Steve who was downright in love at this point. Until Eddie showed up at Steve’s one day with a large smile on his face.

“Hey Eds, what’s up?”

“I met someone.”

As soon as the words left Eddie’s mouth, Steve’s heart shattered. After the months they’d spent hooking up, Steve had started to convince himself that maybe Eddie felt the same. But clearly he was wrong.

Steve must’ve been silent for too long because Eddie immediately got defensive, “What? You can’t even be happy for me?”

“What about us? You’re just gonna throw that away for some guy?”

“There was never an us Harrington, no strings attached, remember?”

“Really we’re back to Harrington? And what about all those things you said when you’d fuck me? how you loved fucking me and never wanted to fuck another guy again? how I was yours and you didn’t want to see me with anyone else?”

“Those are just words Steve, I just said those things in the moment, it didn’t mean anything. I’m not yours and you’re not mine”

“So that’s it? It’s over?” Steve asked heartbroken.

“There was nothing there to begin with Steve. We said no strings attached and I kept my word, it’s not my fault you caught feelings.”

Eddie walked away leaving the other boy in pieces but what Steve didn’t know is that Eddie’s heart shattered that day too. And while he tried to pick up the pieces and move on with someone else, no one made him feel like Steve did. So much for no strings attached, Eddie could still feel the cut string aching to be reconnected with Steve.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #smut #steddie smut #angst #steddie angst #kie writes

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rivkae-winters · 8 months

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'Chair fic' - my little enki/cahara au

Once again the gods have deemed me to live some number more of days to menace the world... I've been really hard into funger since late march, I've written both way to much and nowhere near enough for these two. Anyway here is the first 6,029 words of my little long running pet project, this installment of which centers around them boning in the life crisis/contemplation chair. The rest [like 7k] will be up on Ao3 once it's through editing :3

Splitting up was almost never the most advised option. Even Enki with his sometimes overly open disdain towards other people and insular nature could admit that.

Almost.

Since sometimes, when you- out of some unexplored childhood trauma- decide to pick up a child left in the dark in a cage that child needs sleep. More sleep than the rest of the group, that is. Or really a similar amount if Enki was honest with himself, adults were just better at pushing through the exhaustion. Either way sometimes that child needs sleep now, and the group at large also /needs food now/.

Ideally, according to the bow wielding outlander, there would be no man left by himself in a situation like this. Right after stating that wise and obvious statement however the auburn haired man proceeded to make excuse after excuse for why Enki really should take Cahara and that he would be fine with only the cave wolf that had also been adopted and a sleeping child.

That man… That man and his way of constantly making things harder for himself, occasionally when easier solutions are available, drove Enki crazy sometimes.

Enki could tell Cahara was getting antsy though and he knew that he was not going to be able to bargain being left alone after the last scare so he’d cut his losses and followed the sellsword’s lead through the winding hallways of the dungeon. They didn’t go that far astray of the dungeon complex they’d left behind. Not particularly.

Enki couldn’t help but wince as their footsteps echoed when they entered the main dungeon bulwark, the one where he’d stumbled upon the man he was following behind. Enki braced himself and caught up a bit to Cahara and leaned in close before making his query.

“Where exactly are we going?” The tightness in his voice did nothing to dissuade Cahara’s almost jaunty strut through the dungeon, his footsteps would almost certainly be featherlight in any room or section except this one despite the appearance of his stride.

“There was a room I’d noticed a lot of the patrolling guards always circling back to in here, then-” Cahara cut himself off almost abruptly, his stride kept in beat though with only a stutter in his front step that Enki could see almost jolt his hip giving his discomfort away. “Then in the cell I had a slightly better vantage point.”

Then the mercenary stopped abruptly, his head barely moved but Enki could almost see his eyes moving from side to side in a manner the other didn’t think was obvious from behind. Cahara pulled them behind a crate, pressing Enki behind himself and against the crate just in time for a Guard to walk by on a parallel walkway. Thankfully the lumbering brute didn’t seem to see them, or smell them. Still the glint of the morning star and sword on it’s back sent a shot of anxiety through Enki. Enki’s hands still felt hot by his side even as the Guard disappeared into the darkness. Cahara turned to him, seriousness showing for once, fully in his eyes breaking through the facade.

“Sometimes they’ll go in with one weapon and leave with another,” Cahara’s voice was low and quiet and Enki almost didn’t hear the slight echo it gave off. The other man glanced over his shoulder. “The doors are a bit further that way.”

“You think its a general supply room, not an armory?” Enki tried to keep his voice neutral. On one hand, Cahara was likely right. This was a prison floor first and foremost, there would likely be some sort of abandoned supplies for upkeep of various types there. On the other hand: Cahara was leading him to an area that could have heavy traffic.

“I’m fairly sure of that, but comparative logistics aside, a chance at food is something we can’t pass up right now.” Cahara’s words were barely audible and he looked at Enki, eyes totally serious once again, a weird type of concern present as well. To Enki’s surprise the innate response to fight at the sight of pity didn’t rear itself up like a crying monster in the back of his head.

Enki knew what the other meant: at this point they’d either die starving or die fighting before they were able to get out. Enki knew he didn’t quite want such beings as the girl child to die starving. Something in him protested against it greatly.

It was odd honestly. Enki had never really cared about such things that plagued the hours and days of others like that before.

Instead of speaking Enki simply nodded at the other man, the footsteps of the hulking beast still haunting the very edges of his perception. Cahara took that as affirmative and moved out of the spot he’d tucked them into. Careful to keep his steps light, Enki followed the other. The guards weren’t intelligent enough to be attracted to noise or so he thought. The thought still nagged at the back of his mind as Cahara’s light swaying steps led them the final stretch to the store room. The door stood on one end at the end of their walkway and an infinitely dark hall on the other.

As the other man held his torch a bit higher and peaked inside before confirming there were currently no guards Enki’s mind turned the question over and over. Some would say that humans wore clothes while animals did not- that they had no business covering something that they had no business being ashamed of. What was left of much of prison staff could be likened more to the latter now than the former.

A light tap on his shoulder almost had Enki jolting out of his skin. Cahara’s deep eyes were sharp against the torch light as they peered into his. The mercenary tilted his head back towards the supply room and the piles of unattended crates sitting there. It almost seems too good to be true…

Ultimately it was: in the eerie silence of the cavernous prison level Cahara and Enki sorted through crate after crate and barrel after barrel. Some were empty. Some had dirt. Some had discarded sweaty loincloths and torches broken as if they were toothpicks.

None had food.

There were a precious few preserved herbs that Enki found and pocketed, several green and one blue, yet there was nothing edible. Neither of them were quite hungry enough to chance the maggot ridden raw meat that lay in the back of the room on a side table.

Not yet at least.

Cahara was the one to open the last box in the room and the way his head hung down told Enki all he needed to know. Then, one of the flies, freshly on their wings, came buzzing around his head from the meat.

‘Down the hall… There is fresher stock down the hall and into the dark… It’s from whence we came…’

Something in Enki’s gut jolted but he felt an odd sort of trust in his gut. The insects had never had reason to lie to him whether he overheard idle chatter or was made to listen intentionally. Enki took the few steps that separated him and Cahara before leaning in close, his lips almost brushing the other's ear.

“The hallway next to this room, something is down there.” Enki could see Cahara’s lips purse before he nodded. The other man handed Enki the torch and took a step back and nodded towards the door as if telling Enki to lead the way. The way the mercenary’s hand hovered over his sword told Enki exactly what the other was going to do.

Enki didn’t question as he usually would why the sellsword took his word that quickly, without asking for any source or proof. The hunger was eating at his mind and no doubt the others as well.

The hallway was damp and somehow almost oppressively dark even with the torch. It stretched in front of them ominously but Enki didn’t feel as disturbed as he probably should have. There wasn’t even the normal numbness that typically accompanied identifiable emotions. It just felt familiar instead. Almost mechanically he led Cahara down the hallway into the humming darkness. Something was almost entrancing about it. Enki’s eyes couldn’t help but fixate on something just shining through the darkness at the end of the hallway.

He was jolted back suddenly, something pulling him back abruptly.

“Careful,” Cahara’s voice cut through the shroud and something else shiny caught Enki’s eye on the ground. He watched as Cahara’s foot nudged the nail straight on out of the way, until it rolled up against the wall. He’d almost stepped on it hadn’t he. “No need to get infected unnecessarily now, no matter how many of those pretty green herbs we found just now.” The statement was awkwardly humorous in a way that gave Enki whiplash when contrasted with the deep darkness of the air surrounding them. Cahara’s hand lingered on Enki’s waist for a little longer than necessary, fingers dancing lightly, before he fully pulled away again and took a step back. Enki only hummed, glancing once more at the nail before refocusing his eyes on the barely visible door that only just barely cut through the darkness. Even then, cut might be an overstatement; it just barely shone to the point where if Enki hadn’t just been pointed towards it he would think it a mirage at first.

“We’re going to need your locking picking skills in a second.” Enki’s voice still sounded dull and almost dreamy to his own ears. He could hear the leather of Cahara’s vest shift as the other man leaned forward until Enki could just barely hear his breath.

“Well my deft fingers are, as always at your service.” Cahara sounded cocky, as if Enki was far more attractive and invited him to bed. He brushed it off and, after checking the space in front of his feet, let himself be almost pulled towards the end of the hall again.

The door became clearer with every step they took towards it. Some containers behind it became apparent, four crates and a single barrel. What really attracted Enki’s eyes though, as he stopped a short pace from the door was the descending darkness in the back right corner. Stairs leading downwards to a further darkness. The fly’s words repeated in his head- flies were of the depths after all.

Enki heard Cahara pulling out his lock picks and held out his hand to stop the other man from trying to move in front of him.

“It’s locked from the other side,” Enki felt numb and lifeless and /hungry/ as he said the words. Cahara only put his lock picks away deftly and pressed something cool and round into Enki’s hands. Enki reflexively retracted and looked down at the red vial sitting innocently in his hand.

Cahara held out his hand as he stepped slightly in front of Enki and Enki returned the vial to him. Enki took another step forward and held the torch, just away from the bars illuminating the lock of the other side. Cahara uncorked the vial and stuck the tip just through the bars before dumping it on the lock. There was a sizzle almost immediately on contact. Cahara didn’t croon or make a snide comment as he sometimes would. Instead the sellsword was still staring down at the lock as it continued to sizzle. The prison floor was likely still affecting him as it had been since they’d set foot in it. Cahara took out a tool to reach through the bars and agitate the lock a bit.

Enki took the role of looking out behind them as Cahara worked. The residual sizzling and clinking of discardable tools filling his ears. The hallway stretched back further behind them than Enki had remembered walking. The storeroom was dimly visible at the end of it, angled away from them.. Its gaping doorway now only seemed the size of an average tome in the distance.

The sound of the vial reacting with the metal died down and Cahara groaned behind him. Enki turned to look. The door stood unfaltering even with half of the lock slightly melted and the innards of it no doubt a mess.

“Damn this fucking thing,” Cahara hissed, the other man more agitated than Enki had seen him get… over most things.

“I’m assuming you don’t have another then?” Enki turned fully back to the problem at hand, leaning a bit to inspect it. As before: it meant nothing to him. The lock simply looked like it should be holding on far less than it was.

“No, that was my last one for now.” Cahara’s voice was almost snappish in a way that the other man seemed to wince at after hearing it. “Sorry, I’m just-”

“Stop.” Enki cut the other off before he could start trying to tell Enki that he wasn’t angry at him or whatever. Or worse, start nervously prattling. Though unlike that weird knight girl Enki had briefly encountered very early on in her time here: that didn’t seem as likely with Cahara. He had survived this long after all, the other one likely hadn’t. Enki drew on his small reserves remaining and, with a thought of Gro-Goroth, of destruction bursting through life and everything, felt his hand heat rapidly. Enki let a small flame grow in his hand, until it was just about the same size as the one on the torch that he handed back over to Cahara. “Let me.”

The sellsword stepped back otherwise unprompted and Enki took his place. He placed the fire a bit below the unmelted bottom part of the lock. Enki took a breath and then fed much more into the fire. Thoughts of his own eventual destruction and the memory of burning his own order to the ground fueling the flame to rage. Enki let it raise up and subsume the lock for about a second before he stopped feeding it and let it dissipate in the air. He took a step back and turned to look at Cahara, taking the torch back quicker than was technically safe. The mercenary seemed to understand coming up to ram his shoulder into the door. The door opened, the areas that had once secured the now ruined lock hopelessly warped.

What must be the internal mechanism of the lock fell out and flung towards the stone floor, already made mostly useless by the vial. The noise didn’t echo as much as it should have. Cahara dusted off his shoulder and went to go for the stack of crates when Enki grabbed his wrist, long pointed fingers wrapping loosely around it.

“Not up here,” Enki then started for the stairs.

“Lead us to edible food then bug-man.”[might change thisline] Cahara’s tone was sardonic and dour but Enki simply took measured steps down the steep stairs that led into the abyss. The torch cast only the few steps in front of them in dim light. The full extent of the descent as well as the steps leading back up remained in impossibly dark shadow. Enki let time slip through his fingers through the descent, focusing more on making sure his feet were stable on the steep and uncared for steps. The sound of Cahara’s footsteps behind him, slow and careful as well, was oddly comforting.

The further they descended the earthier the air seemed to smell. By the time the last steps were in sight the scent of the slight draft coming in was almost floral, like the courtyard where a statue of Alll-mer loomed over the library’s exit. Like the spore ridden thicket.

The stairwell let them off into a circular chamber. Enki could see the way down just to the left, barely, the stairs sinking further into the abyss. That didn’t catch his eye though. He took a few steps forward and then felt as if he’d been given a boon.

In front of them, barely outlined by the torchlight was another storeroom.

“Well shit,” Cahara mumbled from behind Enki as his torch cast some of the rather cramped room in dim light. Enki wasted no time in walking over to the sconces he saw shining on the wall to light them. The room seemed less cramped once the two surprisingly intact candles were glowing in addition to their dying torch. “Your little bug friends save the day again I guess.” Enki turned back abruptly from his work in placing the torch in a holder no doubt meant for something else that rested between the sconces** to see Cahara still in the doorway leaning against it in a way that would normally be termed provocative.

“They are not my ‘little bug friends’,” Enki was unsurprised at the sharpness that entered his voice and had no desire to tamper it down. They weren’t- such terminology was demeaning to both him and the insects he occasionally communicated with and that occasionally helped him. “That is-”

“Regardless,” Cahara’s voice was light and airy as he cut Enki off before righting himself and crouching in front of the pile of crates nearest to the door. “We have more things to look through now.” Enki actually looked at the other now and the fatigue that gripped his frame mirrored that which Enki felt in his own. The hunger in those dark eyes… Enki was starting to feel it more himself. There were more pressing things than semantics right now, after all.

“Alright,” Enki turned on his heel towards the side of the room opposite Cahara. “I’ll start on these if you could move crates out of the way as we go.” Cahara nodded back at him, and they were off. Enki wouldn’t realize until later that the request didn’t create the same burning ire and hatred towards his own body that it usually did. That he didn’t feel so much disgust as he usually did at his constitution, notably poor even for a dark priest.

They worked in turns, Enki sorting through boxes and Cahara moving them. This time they actually found food. Cured meats, somewhat decent produce. Even some preserved fruit and vegetables as well.

It wasn’t that much, maybe enough for a few days across the four people and one cavewolf they were feeding. Even then, the thought occurred to Enki that for everyone else he was with this would be stretched far less than they were willing to here outside the dungeon. Regardless: they had food now.

They amassed enough that Cahara and Enki, down to what they were fairly sure were the last few crates, stopped to eat. It wasn’t much. They each only had a bit of dried meat but with the Hunger just having started to gnaw at both of them to the point of weakness it felt like the best food in the world. They both chewed slowly, trying to trick their bodies into thinking it was more food than they actually had.

When they got up again Cahara went to move the crates they were sitting on for easier access. It seemed when they started up again though that their blessings had run out for now.

All they found inside the next five crates that were mounded up around a tarp covered mass was things that were either unspeakably spoiled or virtually back at the realm of being dirt..

There was one lone box left next to the dust cloth covered mass. It was smaller and the wood looked different to the point where Enki actually felt something like hope for its contents.

Enki went for the small crate next to the hanging dust cloth. His gut feeling was proven correct as inside revealed a collection of rags and assorted cloth fragments. Something that was more than invaluable for wounds that they always kept coming across. It wasn’t all good- the selection of cleaning supplies had likely been long forgotten by the time everything in this place went to the sulfur pits. Any supplies were helpful, the technicalities of such things as being fresh and highly effective were a luxury here.

Enki was starting to sort the good from the barely usable from totally unsalvageable when a sound like a rug being pulled filled his ears and there was suddenly more dust than good air in his face. Enki turned his head in unison with Cahara plopping down on the surprisingly intact chair he’d uncovered. Maybe it was from an old officer’s room Enki distantly thought, but gods only know how long it’s been down here. Enki put the vial he’d been holding down before he broke it as the other man stared at him with hungry eyes. He wasn’t sitting properly but Enki had stopped expecting the other man to do that right within the first hour of their acquaintance.

Enki felt something, he realized distantly, as his hands continued to ball but this time not around the old fragile vials. It wasn’t anger though, it was odd.

“Comfortable?” Enki let the sardonic tone overtake whatever was bubbling in his gut as he rolled his eyes at the other man and turned back to sorting. He noted that some of these would need to be cushioned in among the other odds and ends they’d found on the way back. Enki didn’t trust old glass like many of these were from his experience; they'd likely been used and abused up to their breaking point.

“Very,” Cahara’s voice was smooth and quiet, and there was a slight rustle of leather against fabric as the other man adjusted himself in the chair. “You know…” The other man trailed off in a way that made Enki imagine he was licking his lips, or preparing for something. Enki stood, leaving his box half organized and turned on his heel to Cahara. He briefly felt some enjoyment for the way he was just shy of towering over the man sprawled out as he was like this. The chair was large, making Cahara look almost small in comparison.

Almost.

Enki would look miniscule in it most likely.

“What?” Enki said with force levelness. Cahara only shifted his eyebrows a bit at him and batted his eyes. Enki narrowed his eyes at the other man. He waited for a few counts for a more substantial response before tsking** and going to turn back to his work. Then he was yanked off his feet as a pair of muscled arms hoisted him down to Cahara’s level. Onto Cahara’s crossed legs. [exasperation and embarrassment but not the level you’d expect bc emotional numbness]

“We don’t have company right now,” Cahara’s lips were almost touching Enki’s ear before the man abruptly pulled back. His arms loosened slightly around Enki’s waist. If this had been something Enki had been watching uncomfortably he’d have called the tone of voice a croon, like that of a self-important bird. Enki turned himself a bit but didn’t try to get up for reasons he didn’t want to think about too much. Cahara’s dark eyes were warm and deep and-

Cahara’s hand wandered up to the back of Enki’s head, resting oh so slightly over the back of his neck then gently pulled the other man to him.

Enki didn’t resist.

Cahara’s lips were warm and slightly rough just like the last time. Enki let his eyes slip shut almost instinctively. This time the other man’s lips didn’t taste like the distinctive scented alcohol he carried around doctoring the abandoned bottles they came across. The taste of dried meat still fresh in the other man’s mouth barely registered to Enki.

Then Cahara stopped and pulled back and Enki pushed himself up. He looked down at Cahara and took in the feelings that pierced through the surface of the numbness he’d lived up until entering the dungeons. A good bit into these dungeons as well. The part of him that yearned for knowledge felt less urgent in it’s ravenous desire oddly. It was a feeling that was so similar to how things had felt last time.

“So what if we don’t have company then?” Enki in a moment of pure hunger for something that he couldn’t identify let his hand fall against Cahara’s chin and his gloved thumb rest against the other’s bottom lip.

“I thought we could continue,” Cahara pulled Enki’s other hand to his lips and pressed the same feather light kiss he had to the center of it the last time they had been ‘sitting closely’ in this manner. This time Enki was still wearing his gloves though. “ Y’know- From were we were interrupted last time,” Cahara’s eyes were downright mischievous and seemingly gleeful at the idea. Enki couldn’t argue with that logic too much though- there was no small child to wake up from a nightmare here. There was also no risk of them waking her either, although they hadn’t gotten as far as for that to be a problem prior.

“Well then,” Enki looked down at Cahara and felt things beyond numbness to the point were he felt them warp his face a little. The gaping chasm that led to nothingness inside of him felt less large now.

“Well sweetling,” Cahara’s dark eyes seemed to sparkle momentarily.

“Lets.” Enki almost popped the T out of his mouth and swallowed the ‘S’ as Cahara pulled him down again. The other drowned Enki in his being, his presence. Cahara’s gloved hands held Enki’s waist and the back of his neck in a way so gentle it came back around to hurting almost. The contact was fast and intense, like a piece of tinder. It felt like the other released him just as soon as it started although Enki knew logically that wasn’t quite true.

“Lets…” Cahara’s voice dragged out in a way that was a bit more than his usual speech.

When they kissed again the silence around them felt like a heavy hand gripping the back of Enki’s neck. The sound of his own voice, his own breaths, of their combined movement in the chair returned to his ears and Enki felt something like shame. Shame that he existed and took up space in that familiar way that he’d felt as far back as he could remember. Before even the adults at the temple** started to whisper about the weak one, the disappointing runt. Only the water droplets that seemed piercing through the relative silence occasionally outshone the shame that was Enki’s existence.

The ennui that usually accompanied that shame of a life that wasn’t worth living, wasn’t tingling at its heels though The ambient dissatisfaction that filled Enki’s days when nothing was new or intriguing enough was oddly absent. That something warm was also still present and it pushed up against Enki’s lungs. He let himself get lost in the sensation, the shame and numbness that persisted through so much felt more like a shadow cast and less like the core of his being.

Perhaps this is what excitement felt like. True excitement instead of the anxiety and tenseness he’d found himself chasing and falling back into creating for so long.

When they broke away for air again, Enki felt breathless in the best possible way. Cahara looked up at him with eyes that held nothing but mirth and merriment and luxuriation. Like a cat lounging in the sun.

Enki knew he was not the sun though, not anywhere close even. To the point that it took his mind a second to process that this was directed at him. Cahara’s eyes had nowhere else to wander in this moment, they were focused and present and only on-

Cahara pulled Enki down again for another kiss, this one much gentler. It was more of a resting together of their lips combined with a brief moment of their noses brushes. Enki felt one of Cahara’s hands stray and wander up his thigh but he did nothing to stop the man.

Enki couldn’t help the hiss that left his mouth once Cahara’s hand found his hipbone, and thumbed in the crevice. The smooth leather created an almost otherworldly feeling on the sensitive area. Enki felt Cahara stop and couldn’t help but look down at the man below him in question.

“You alright there priestling?” Cahara’s voice was only outwardly jovial, a brush of suaveness covering what Enki would have called concern if there was anyone that wasn’t himself involved.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Enki’s voice was noticeably softer than it should have been even to his own ears. Cahara shifted his thumb over the same spot again, moving to clutch Enki’s hip as well. This time, Enki looked Cahara dead in the eyes and didn’t move, surpressing the shudder of /something/ that tried to arise inside him.

“The point of this,” The concern adjacent emotion was back in Cahara’s eyes and the man was clearly trying his best to keep his voice level. “Enki, is mutual pleasure.” The question hung at the end of the statement, unasked but clearly there. It was a brothel bed curtain hanging between them. Enki jolted to grab Cahara’s hand as it slowly started to retreat at Enki’s silence. He held it still tightly on his thigh in his own through the thin barrier of his own robes.

For a second they just stared at one another. Enki was hyper aware of the leaking /something/ somewhere in the background.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

“I am aware,” Enki stared at Cahara, searching for something not even he was aware of in those dark eyes. “I think it will greatly succeed in that measure.” The other man’s demeanor relaxed and Enki found himself being pulled down for another kiss. Enki responded in kind this time. He pressed back at Cahara and returned the other’s advances in intervals instead of laying dormant and letting the experience happen to him. When Cahara’s smooth glove migrated back up to Enki’s hip-bone Enki’s fingers had found the lip at the edge of Cahara’s vest. His slim fingers were able to slip just under the edge easily. Cahara broke the kiss, even as close as they still were Enki could see a smirk across the other man’s lips that meant nothing but pure mischief. He couldn’t help but mirror it with a slight curl of his own lips.

“Eager to get me bare and exposed?” Cahara’s fingers dug oh so slightly into Enki’s posterior as he said that and the Dark Priest clicked his tongue in response.

“Perhaps I don’t want to be the only one exposed,” Enki looked at Cahara’s eyes and how the light played off their shadowy depths in a way that showed pure mirth. It was almost enchanting. “This is an act of reciprocity is it not?”

“Ya’ got me there priestling,” Cahara’ s eyebrow arched in acknowledgement, yet his hand stayed steady and light on Enki’s hipbone. The mercenary below him simply stared up at Enki, like there was something special there.

This time Enki leaned down to kiss him.

Enki could feel Cahara at full mast beneath him and the thought wasn’t as intimidating or unwelcome as it would have been a week prior. He slipped his hands under the fabric Cahara wore tied around his waist. He stilled purposely when the other hummed appreciatively and waited a few seconds before continuing. His fingers found the closure of the sellsword’s pants rather easily, conveniently enough they were on the side of Enki’s dominant hand. They broke for air for a second, and Enki couldn’t help but grasp onto the lip of the opening before Cahara pulled him back down. Enki lightly tugged on the laces that held the garment shut in askance and Cahara more than happily obliged.

Their lips pulled apart again and the man lifted his hips and Enki on top of them easily and roughly pulled his pants and small clothes down to his thighs before Enki even had time to react. Then those sticky fingered hands were wandering again, one pressed to Enki’s back and the other crept up under his braies and sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. Cahara leaned back, and looked like he wanted to lick his lips.

“Your turn now priestling,” Enki could have bathed in the sound of his voice. With another delightful brush his own small clothes were at his ankles and Cahara’s lips were on his again and-

Enki wanted more.

He deepened the kiss himself. Enki took Cahara’s hard cock in hand loosely and brushed his fingers up and down it ever so lightly. He relished in the shudder that ran through the other’s lips and body and at the depth and intensity of the contact. Then Cahara pushed him back slightly, breaking them apart momentarily as he bent down. The displeased noise that passed through Enki’s lips against his bidding made his cheeks heat slightly and Enki could hear Cahara snort lightly.

“Are you ok with…” Cahara trailed off simply tilting the vial to and fro in a bare hand to emphasize his point, his glove likely discarded at their feet.

“More than,” Enki idly stroked up and down the mercenary’s member as the cork was roughly popped out of the vial. The scent of chamomile was mild but still present. Enki was mildly surprised, this was something that was from outside. From the rest of the world outside this accursed little hell trap and her beautiful libraries. The significance was one that he realized he felt almost inappropriate receiving

Enki watched the faint smelling substance pour over Cahara’s fingers before he was pulled in for another kiss. The mercenary’s hands crept up from under him. Enki hummed as a calloused digit ghosted over his rim. Then again, this time making several small circles. Then Cahara pulled Enki slightly closer and slowly inserted the slick digit in. The mercenary’s hand settled fully on Enki’s back as another finger joined the first. He jolted forward as Cahara spread his fingers inside him and brushed something that sent a shivers up his back and warmth to his core again. Then enki was pressing down against Cahara’s hand and the other started pushing up in turn. Time felt like it was blurring when Cahara added another to the mix. Enki could feel cahara’s grin against his lips were they were still loosely connected but he still-

The mercenary’s fingers curled inside enki and roughly came out hooking on that /spot/ on the way. Enki couldn’t push himself down fast enough. He pulled back, and found himself breathless and then-

Something bigger pressed up and Enki pressed down. Only Cahara’s clean hand caught his hip.

“Easy now priestling,” The mercenary’s voice was soft while his grip was surprisingly iron-like. “Let me take care of this part.” Slowly and tantalizingly Cahara lowered Enki down, letting the other man’s dick enter slowly. Enki had to bite back a moan when oil slick fingers caressed his own member as well.

Then he was fully sitting on Cahara’s lap again this time with nothing between the. There was no barrier between them on anything.

“You ready?” Cahara’s lips brushed Enki’s cheeks as he said it and Enki didn't have the words for once to say anything. Instead he ground into Cahara’s lap delighting in the friction created.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Enki heard Cahara’s voice was full of mirth but before he had the time to be offended in any way Cahara had pressed a kiss to his cheek and then he was moving in. The first pass was slow. Cahara slid in with just the right amount of friction. Enki tried to swallow back a reflexive noise yet a slight hiss slipped past his lips.

He wanted to push, to take control. To maintain a position of some power in a way that had always made him feel more secure. Yet Enki couldn’t find the will to. The almost violent urge, one that had always resembled a starving and beaten animal lashing out, pulsed there in the back of his mind.

#fear and hunger #funger #enki/cahara #enki ankarian #cahara #cahara of the south #fear and hunger fanfic #fear and hunger enki #enki #fnh #rivkae writes #f&h #f&h enki #f&h cahara #dark priest #mercenary #the contemplation chair

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ghostboidanny · 4 months

Text

Flowers of truth choking on my secrets

Ao3

Tumblr part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 (here)

Danny lies sometimes. Of course he does, which teenager doesn't lie occasionally? But lying becomes much more important after he dies, alone, in his parents’ lab, inside a Portal leading into a whole new world. He lies to his family and to his friends, to his classmates and teachers and everyone else he comes across. He lies to himself. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. Because being Phantom is too dangerous and it’s the only way to keep himself his loved ones safe.

Unfortunately, for ghosts lying has consequences. Deadly consequences.

Chapter 6: The truth is out

He slowly wakes up, which is a surprise even to him. Danny had been certain that he would die during that last attack. Die again . Because he has already died once, months ago. He didn’t just get ghost powers, he died and he came back . Maybe that is what has happened now. Maybe he died fully this time. That would explain why he feels fine when last he could remember, he was in torturous amounts of pain.

His chest is no longer burning and he can breathe properly for the first time in months, since that day he walked into the portal and died . The memory flashes through his mind and he almost wishes he could bury it again. It hurts to think about, makes the hand that pressed the button ache with phantom pain - though logically he knows that the hand shouldn’t feel any better or worse than the rest of him. He remembers now that his whole body was burnt to a crisp by the end. Only the ectoplasm immediately fusing with his destroyed body and merging his soul back together with it saved him. His heart races at the memory.

Wait … his heart races . He can feel his core buzzing, but if he had died fully this time, then his heart should have stopped for good.

Danny’s eyes fly open.

The first thing he notices is that he’s still in the same hospital room as before, except now it's night time. The second time he notices is that his parents and sister are all sleeping in different chairs around the room - Sam and Tucker are nowhere to be seen so they must have been kicked out of the hospital. The third thing he notices is the heart monitor, displaying that his heart is beating at a steady - though slightly slower than normal - rate.

“I’m alive”, he whispers to himself, starting in astonishment at his hands. His voice is hoarse and speaking hurts, but not nearly as much as it did before. It's more like a moderate cold than thorns in his throat. And his throat doesn't close up on itself when he tries to speak about death. The improvement is so minimal and yet it feels vast to him.

“I died and then I came back to half life and right as I was dying again, I finally admitted the truth to myself, and so I’m still half alive.”

All this time, he had been sick because he had been lying to himself . Though lying to his friends and family probably didn't help any. A laugh escapes his throat and then another. Soon he’s laughing so hard that he can’t breathe.

He sees the other people in the room startle awake and feels guilty about it, but can’t stop laughing. “Danny?” Jazz mumbles, looking at him with sleep addled eyes, deep purple bags beneath them. Her eyes widen when she takes in his awake form in the bed.

A second later, her arms close around his body, pulling him into a hug. He presses his face against her shoulder. It isn’t until the fabric grows wet that he realizes that he’s crying. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I died”, he sobs and her arms spasm around him for a second before she hugs him even tighter.

When Jazz next speaks, she sounds heartbroken. “Yeah, you did.”

“I couldn't face the truth of it for so long that it almost killed me again. I really thought I would die for good this time.”

Jazz’s voice turns to steel. “You didn’t and you won’t. But I’m proud of you for facing the truth, no matter how hard it was.”

“I only did it thanks to you. If you hadn’t realized that I’ve been lying to myself and made me face the truth, I would have died. Thank you.”

Jazz leans back and cups his face in her hands. She strokes some tears away with her thumbs and looks very intently into his eyes. “There is no need to thank me, I would do anything to help you. Anything .”

There is a surprised sound coming from the corner with his parents and then in the next second, Jack runs across the room and pulls both Danny and Jazz into a hug. Within moments, Danny can feel tears soaking his hair. “You’re awake!”

His dad’s loud voice startles Maddie awake as well and a second later she is also sobbing on him. She presses a kiss against his forehead. “My baby boy! We nearly lost you for good, never do something like that again!”

“I’ll try not to”, Danny says as tears start dripping down his cheeks again. He clings to his parents and is happy to discover that he is once again strong enough to actually hug them back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I can’t even imagine how hard all of this must have been for you. I’m just glad you’re alive … or half alive?” She asks, sounding very careful all of a sudden, as if she didn’t want to offend him or scare him. It only makes him cry harder and Maddie immediately pulls him closer.

“It … it was very hard. I didn't w-want to admit to myself that I had d-died. That’s why I didn’t tell you guys about being Phantom. S-some part of me knew that it would lead to me having to confront my death and I wasn’t r-ready. It was easier to just l-lie about everything, at least until it hurt me so much I almost died again.”

“We understand”, Maddie says and kisses his forehead again.

“But you know the truth now?” Jazz asks from where her face is pressed against his shoulder. He can feel some wetness there too but doesn't comment on it.

“Yeah, I know that I died in the portal and that it then brought it back. I know that I don't just have ghost powers but am a half ghost. Half alive, half dead.” For every word he speaks, he feels lighter and lighter. The last of the pressure in his chest disappears and his breathing gets easier. In fact, he’s pretty sure that his throat and lungs have completely healed up.

He pulls back from his family and stares down at his hands. He feels stronger than he’s ever done before. If he’s lied to himself ever since the accident first started then … how long did he have the parasite for? Since the very beginning? Has he been fighting while sick all this time? Just how powerful is he?

“I … I’m going to transform into Phantom now”, Danny says, half to warn his family and half to prepare himself. His family back away a few steps, but for the first time, he feels no fear about transforming when someone else might see him. His parents smile at him in encouragement and Jazz has so much pride in her eyes that he feels heat rise into his cheeks.

Danny pulls on his core and it buzzes with energy, almost more than he can comprehend. The transformation passes over him in a flash, faster than ever before. Gravity lets go of its grip on him without any struggle on his part and he floats up from the bed, weightless. A laugh bubbles from his throat. A throat that is completely healed. The pain he’s suffered for so long while in ghost form is just gone .

The excitement is too much and just has to do a loop to get some of the energy out. He laughs some more and is startled when another voice joins him. Danny looks over to see his family. Jazz is beaming, laughter spilling from her mouth. His mom has tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling fondly at him.

Jack cheers, “That's my boy!” Then he runs forward and sweeps Danny into a crushing hug. Danny hugs back, melting into his dad’s arms.

A strange sound starts up from the center of his chest, where his core lies. It's like a big cat is purring, a deep repetitive sound. For a moment he feels like he should be embarrassed by it, but then the rest of his family join the hug and he forgets all about it. He just basks in the love radiating from his family and the relief of all the pain being gone.

The truth is out and his family still love him. The truth is out and it didn’t destroy him, as he has feared for so long. Suddenly, the future looks bright and as Danny is nestled in the arms of his family, he feels ready to face it.

#dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #indrel writes #I completely forgot to post this on tumblr as well #better late than never I guess

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kaleidoscopek9 · 1 year

Note

I’m in way too deep oh no.

Continuing off that “hide from staff with Sun” thought, imagine needing to squeeze into little spaces every now and then just to stay out of sight or avoid suspicious security. And it’s not a big deal at first because you’re both too busy trying not to giggle over continued mischief and not give away your hiding place. But that leads to Moon finding you and Sun huddled up somewhere tight, maybe with you being pressed into a corner or something, and while he IS grumpy, I can’t imagine Sun plays hooky TOO often, so Moon is also probably an amused little bastard.

Still, he probably chastises you and Sun anyways - especially Sun, who should “know better” - and maybe that starts up a little argument, a little moment with more heat than it should, before you peek out from behind Sun (maybe one with one hand lightly on his waist to make room) and say it was your idea and they shouldn’t fight. And Moon is… surprised. Because of course you WOULD get into a bunch of trouble if they call you in, and it would’ve probably been smarter for you to stay hidden behind Sun as long as possible (because you’re right when you guess he would’ve tried to sneak out his little partner-in-crime as best he could). So Moon decides he likes you and your spunk, and maybe tries to be harsh about going “fine, just don’t do it again” but it’s impossible to miss the little glint in his eyes. And Sun is equally as surprised, having been ready to be a little scapegoat but nothing more than a passing fancy (especially as Moon appears). Except you keep your hand on his waist - maybe only half without realizing it - and when it’s time to go, you happily thank him for indulging you, as if you didn’t give him the freedom to play around, too, and ask for a hug he’s all too willing to give.

And next time there’s a concert of theirs, Sun goes missing again. But this time, Moon isn’t too grumpy when he goes on a bit of a hunt, and Sun is a little more strategic about which hiding places he chooses. It’s your idea to play around again, except this time, it maybe feels just a little less fully innocent, especially when Sun suggests they hide in their VIP room because nobody will find them there or when Moon casually wraps a hand around your arm after finding you and pulls you to him instead because it’s not fair that *Sun* gets you all to himself.

And this really wasn’t your plan at first, but you’re not gonna complain, are you?

OHOHO I love this 👀 👀 👀

Every time you go to one of their concerts, you & the boys make it a little “game” to see how long they can hide you from security. Sometimes it’s Moon’s turn, other times it’s Sun’s. And sometimes they forget whose turn it is and literally bicker with each other over who gets to “hide” you, with you standing in between them, lol. It would be exciting to them. Going against the rules to have some fun with someone they had grown pretty fond of. They’d feel almost like they were trying to smuggle illegal goods into their rooms, lol. You’d definitely be someone they’d be searching for in the crowd as they’d perform, hoping to see you and give a little knowing smirk or wink, letting you know what was in store for you after the show was over.

#SPICYYYY #imagine being in a crowd of people and seeing them give you a knowing look from up on stage #a look that was meant only for you & nobody else #woof #single me out why don’t you #suggestive #long post #punk! sun & moon #punk! sun #punk! moon

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aro-aizawa · 2 years

Text

Locked Out - Chapter 6

A Danny Phantom / My Hero Academia Crossover, set mid season 2 and pre-canon respectively.

[Chapter 1] | [Chapter 5] | [On AO3]

"Wow. Uh. Yeah." Shinsou said as he blinked at the paper Danny had handed him. "Yeah, you might be a lost cause."

Danny groaned into the table they were sat at. "I'm so stupid!" He half yelled, getting a few looks from the others around them.

"Didn't you basically rewire my phone and practically replaced my battery without any spare parts to replace it with?" Kirika interrupted, setting down their drinks. "Kid, you may not be brain smart but what you do know, you know well." Uncharacteristically, she smirked and ruffled Danny's hair while he was still face down on the table.

"That's different, Tucker taught me that trick..." Danny groaned into the table.

Kirika gently swatted Danny's head causing the teen to complain and lift his head to whine at her. "And get your head off the table, I'm gonna have to wipe it down anyway, at least be kind to your servers or I will have failed as a guardian."

"Bold of you to assume that I don't respect servers, you're just the exception."

"Brat."

Danny grinned, and looked over at Shinsou's quiet snicker.

Kirika looked at Shinsou. "Hey, if he's a lost cause, then that's fine it's not like I'm expecting solid As or whatever. He just needs to skim by and maybe pass a high school entrance exam if he'll be sticking around that long. Homeschooling is really not gonna work out and his parents'll kill me if he doesn't go to school."

"Don't worry Kamiya-san, I'll help him out." Shinsou replied politely, to which Kirika snorted hard.

"Don't let the fancy get up fool you kid. You're calling me Kirika or I'll call you eyebags and you'll be stuck exclusively with the kiddie menu here, take your pick."

Shinsou looked at Kirika with wide eyes which made Danny almost cackle. "O-okay then, Kirika-san."

Kirika sighed dramatically. "I suppose it's good enough. Make sure he doesn't slack off." She grinned at Shinsou, messed Danny's hair up once again, then headed off to get back to work. They were luck that Kirika's boss was understanding of her plight and let Danny monopolise a table almost every weekday, they didn't need to push his limits by Kirika not working while he was here.

"Your cousin is cool." Shinsou remarked as he flipped through their textbooks to get to the right place. "Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that."

Danny smiled. "Yeah, she's annoying sometimes, but cool."

If she stops stealing things she'd be even cooler... Danny thought to himself, remembering their last trip to the market and seeing her pull out a variety of trinkets she'd slipped in her pockets when he wasn't looking.

He'd given up trying to stop her a little while ago, it only increased her haul afterwards out of spit. At least this way it would draw less attention to them, and sometimes Kirika would swipe something cool for him which was fine. In those cases though he tried to go back and leave the thing where she'd stolen it from if he could. She'd caught onto that fact though at some point and only stole things he couldn't easily return. It was a silent war between them that likely would never fully go away. Danny still hadn't forgiven her for being an accessory to car theft that first day together.

"But seriously, please help me or I'm going to be the laughing stock of the school and become a social pariah." Danny bemoaned his fate.

"I don't know why you're doing so bad? This is the kind of stuff that's just cementing everything we already know, unless you slept through the entire school year, I really don't understand." Shinsou remarked with a slight frown.

"I told you before, I was already an idiot back in America. Didn't help that my school got constantly disrupted by small time villain attacks, well the town in general did a lot, so my lessons were a mess. Plus, I kind of have a low work ethic if I'm not fixated on a specific goal." Danny replied, musing on how he could have probably done a whole lot better with his grades if he hadn't dropped his ambition to be an astronaut completely after the accident.

His family always had a rather high work ethic, unsurprising considering they were all overachievers most of the time, pre-Accident Danny was among the top students in his year. He'd been considering taking a few AP classes, but decided to wait until sophomore year for that, in a way it had been a good choice, it made it less embarrassing to rapidly drop grades as much as he did.

"You got a lot of villain attacks? Didn't you say your town only have a few thousand people?" Shinsou asked, looking even more confused.

Danny hoped he wasn't going overboard in trying to integrate his history into what could possibly have happened her in the Quirk Universe. He was trying to keep it as close as possible to the truth so he wouldn't trip himself up with a lie, but it was still so hard to judge what was and wasn't normal here outside of theory.

"Yeah, there wasn't really much there. I guess people just liked trying to attack our only pro hero? He wasn't all that good, which is probably why the villains kept getting away to strike later, but he always tried to help the town as much as he could. I think as a whole, the town like him? Well, the people in my school do. Not sure about the adults or whatever outside my parents, but he does the best he can. We're so far out in the middle of nowhere though that no heroes want to move there and help, and the only reason our hero hung around is because he's from there."

"Huh. Sounds like you have a lot of respect for him." Shinsou mused, almost trying to seem casual as he asked his next question. "You like heroes then?"

Danny shrugged. "I mean, they do their jobs? I find it kind of weird how ingrained they are to popular culture, but they're hard working. The flashy ones look cool, but I only ever like to read about them if they're fictional which is unfortunately a dying genre...actual flashy heroes just give me a headache honestly."

He'd unluckily been in the presence of a fight that had Present Mic involved. He'd been almost two blocks away and yet he'd still gotten a migraine from the sporadic yells. If the police hadn't sectioned off the area, he was sure that anyone in that range would have had burst eat drums, which is probably why he'd been called in.

Shinsou snorted. "Glad you have some taste. If you said that you adored the big flashy heroes, I think I would have ended this arrangement before it even began."

Danny grinned. "Nah man, you can't get rid of me. I'm stuck you like a sticker slapped on a public transportation system."

"I don't think that's a saying."

"It might be a fancy american saying where I'm from, you don't know."

"Yeah, I do know. I think the american saying is 'stuck like glue', not whatever you said."

Danny threw a fry at Shinsou, starting an unfortunate mini food fight where they tore the fries into smaller chunks and tried to hide what they were doing so they didn't get kicked out. It didn't stop Kirika from hitting the backs of their heads with her notepad when she came over and saw the carnage, watching them with a stern expression as they tidied up after themselves.

"I'm never going to move again." Danny declared to the room, barely managing to speak through the fur.

Distantly he heard the snickers of Yume, and saw the eyeroll of Shinsou but all he focused on was the deep rumbling purr of the biggest cat he'd ever seen, along with the other two cats all laid on him for some reason.

He had no idea if this was some dormant part of his powers or whatnot, due to his lack of interaction with cats post-accident (all the cats in and around Amity were mandatorily indoor cats on account of some rare wildlife that cats had pushed to the brink of extinction in the area), but shortly after he arrived at the Shinsou apartment, the cats that were being looked after practically swarmed him.

There was one cat that was a giant Norwegian Forest cat, with a thick white coat and the most striking yellow and blue eyes, that was responsible for the purring; the tiniest adult cat he'd ever seen, that was the forest cat's sister who was pure black with a sleek thin coat; and one tortoise shell cat that was a little old lady who was delicately laid across his neck, rubbing her nose through Danny's hair.

He'd already been warned in advance that the big Norwegian forest cat was incredibly friendly and would demand to be played with, but he hadn't expected him to launch from the couch and into Danny, making him slip on the wood floors without shoes on and almost hit his head as he fell. The perpetrator in question had then turned in circles trying to get comfy before turning into a loaf on Danny's stomach.

Seeing the cuddle pile for what it was, the tiny cat had sprinted over and snuggled up to Danny's side, not actively on him but he had no doubt she would have been if the forest cat wasn't almost completely covering Danny's torso. At that point, he'd thought that would be it, until the little old lady cat at a staggering seventeen years old had daintily pattered over to them and laid across Danny's neck.

Shinsou had come in from the kitchen where he'd been getting them drinks and was bemused by the whole situation. Yume was delighted, but started to worry when Danny explained that the forest cat had pushed him over.

"Are you alright, Danny?" She asked, carefully making her way over to him and hesitantly trying to feel the back of his head for bumps. "Chibi doesn't usually launch himself at people..."

Danny grinned up at her. "Yeah, don't worry. No harm done, I'll let you know if he cuts off my breathing though."

Yume grinned in reply, gently stroking the tortoiseshell under her chin, before getting up and giving Danny some space.

"Well, you're gonna have to get up, your homework was terrible this week and we're starting to get closer to high school entrance exams." Shinsou remarked, kicking Danny's leg who gave him a whine in return.

"Dude I'm already a lost cause, give it up. Let me flunk out so I can waste away peacefully under this soft and warm pile of cats." Danny dramatically declared, lifting his hands to stroke Chibi and his sister.

"The little one is Aiko and the tortoiseshell is Kameko." Yume told him, staring at Danny with rather obvious jealousy. "The big one is chibi."

"Chibi, seriously?"

"Yeah, apparently he was the runt of the litter so they thought he'd be on the smaller side. Turned out he was going to be close to the largest cat of his breed in Japan." Yume shrugged.

"This guy wakes up the most out of all the cats we look after." Shinsou informed Danny, leaning down to gently pick up Kameko, to which she gave the sweetest meow to before he passed her to Yume. Yume lit up when Kameko started to purr and obviously demanded snuggles on the couch.

Shinsou then tempted Aiko away with a feather toy. He hadn't even managed to pick it up before she was shooting up and racing to attack it. With his foot, Shinsou gently pushed Chibi off Danny's chest. Chibi wailed pathetically (and dramatically) in response, staying sprawled out where he landed on the floor. Shinsou smirked at the cat, but Chibi calmed when Danny sat up and pet him a couple of times before he stood.

"Alright, I'm up. What was it that you said the other day? You can't wait to be absolutely destroyed by me in Mario Kart?" Danny smirked.

"Yeah, you're definitely remembering wrong because I said that I can't wait to absolutely destroy you in Luigi Kart. Still don't get the constant switching of Luigi and Mario's names..."

"I don't you, inside joke with my friends since we were five." Danny waved off, sitting on the couch and trying in vain to brush off the hundreds of white cat hairs that were stuck to his black t-shirt. "You going to be playing with us Yume? I'll go easy on you, I promise."

Yume grinned at him shyly. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Dude, if you didn't play it'll be more humiliating for Shinsou, at least if there's another person to race against, he can say he put up more of a fight than he did. "

Yume giggled, and Shinsou clearly had enough of Danny's jabs at him, so he waved the feather toy in Danny's direction. Aiko was on the feather as fast as lightning, but not fast enough to redirect her leap when Shinsou pulled the toy away from her, launching her straight into Danny's face with paws outstretched.

"Ah!" Danny yelled in surprise, making Shinsou snicker and Yume giggle.

"Alright, time for you to put your money where your mouth is."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone that Yume did in fact utterly humiliate her brother and his friend. While she was wearing the winner's crown as Baby Peach, Shinsou (playing Waluigi) and Danny (playing Boo) had ultimately tied in dead last place below almost all the AIs, all because of how much they had been sabotaging each other rather than actually focusing on the race.

"They're so weird!" Aoki cried shrilly as she talked to her friends near the entrance to the school. "I mean, Fenton seemed cool at first, but now he's inseperable with Shinsou."

"Do you think that Shinsou brainwashed him into being his friend?" Tomue suggested idly.

"No, I bet it's because Fenton is just as freaky as he is. Did you see him use his quirk during gym class the other day? He managed to move his whole body out of the way of the ball I threw! Like, y'know his chest and stomach area? It was so weird! He seemed surprised after he did it too." Kanada chimed in, shuddering dramatically at the memory.

"Y'know, I wouldn't be surprised if they were up to something—" Aoki started, only to scream along with the others as they were suddenly pelted with snow. Some of it even seemed to fall directly under her shirt collar making her squirm and yell harder.

After a moment of dancing around, she looked up to see Shinsou laughing quietly as he looked after at them, while Fenton grinned fiendishly. She didn't hesitate to point at them and yell, "I know you both had something to do with this!"

"We're all the way over here! How would we manage to do that?" Fenton called over from the other side of the courtyard, putting his hand to his mouth as he yelled to emphasize the distance.

"You have a freaky quirk, that's how!" Kanada yelled back, while Tomue nodded and glared.

"Okay, you quirkist bigots. But you might want to get inside and warm up, it's below freezing! You'll get frostbite and that'd be such a shame."

"This isn't over Fenton!" Aoki yelled before shuffling her friends inside and over towards the heater in the entrance hall.

Danny hadn't been in arcades very much, there had only been one back in Amity, and it had been really run down, what with the increasing availability of games consoles at home. No one was going to the arcade to spend $20 on half an hour of short games when there were much better games they could play at home.

So obviously, after years of it being run down and only visited by the nerdy teenagers of Amity that consisted of maybe a dozen visitors each week, it was inevitably shut down. Of course, this being Amity, it meant that a ghost violently objected to the closing of the arcade and started to fight, pretty much ensuring that it would stay closed.

All of this to say that it was refreshing to enter the arcade where he'd meet up with Shinsou. The games were very different and much more up to date than Amity's (there had been machines from the 80s there, the newest machine had been from 91), but the sounds were almost the same.

If Danny closed his eyes, he could just imagine that he was back home. With Sam and Tucker getting way too intest during air hockey and having to scramble to find the only puck between three machines after it was launched across the arcade and clattered somewhere between the other machines.

But it still wasn't quite the same when he heard the sounds of bowling going on, which was apparently how the arcade could continue to survive if it didn't get much traffic. Good business idea, a shame that Amity hadn't figured that out, but the bowling alley was half a block away and it was also just as run down.

Figuring that Shinsou would be a while, Danny headed towards the most bright and flashy game he could see, knowing immediately that Shinsou would get exasperated in the funniest way. It was really bright, Danny found himself almost squinting as he approached it.

It looked like some kind of side scroller bet em up, themed around All Might fighting random villains as he made his way through the states. He'd always found All Might's american theming just a little bit weird, because from his research he knew that the hero in question was 100% Japanese with no american upbringing, apart from a few years spent there in the beginning of his career.

That being said, if All Might had a move centred around Illinois, he would at least laugh a little.

As anticipated, when Danny heard the loud groan behind him, he grinned but didn't take his attention off the game. "Hey Shinsou, want to take over for me?"

"You little could not pay me enough to even look at that machine. I think it's turning me into a vampire."

Danny chortled, getting hit in the game before managing to recover and get back into it. A quick glance backwards to his friend showed that Shinsou was indeed facing away from it, so that the blinding light wasn't even in his periphery. That got Danny to laugh harder, and made him lose his last life.

"Aw man."

"Serves you right, c'mon let's go play something that won't blind me." Shinsou dragged him off before he could enter more money into the machine as he was just about to do.

Danny definitely appreciated being friends with Shinsou. It was...different from his friendship with Sam and Tucker. While they had their similarities, Shinsou had a bit of a sharper snark and more of a mean streak than Sam and Tucker did. It wasn't even targeted at the weak, mainly just those he thought deserved it.

Whereas Sam would stew in anger and bitterness until confronted, if Shinsou saw an opportunity to get back at those people without serious repercussions he'd usually do it without thinking.

For example, one day they had been slow to leave the classroom and were the last ones left. Shinsou had spotted Aoki's finished homework for the next day, which had fallen on the floor next to her desk. Instead of leaving it on her desk for her to find when she realised the error, he'd folded the paper up and taken it home. Aoki had to redo the homework between classes so she wouldn't get detention.

Danny didn't hold it against him in the slightest, sure it was kinda mean but the students at the school, especially in their class, were a whole lot meaner. It wasn't like Shinsou would do anything to get someone expelled or excluded, it was just little inconveniences that made him feel better about the whole situation and less hopeles.

(It was why Danny didn't hesitate to use his quirk on his classmates to help cheer up Shinsou when he needed to.)

In some of Danny's moments of extreme homesickness he imagined Shinsou and Kirika going to Amity park and showing them around. Maybe even introducing them to Sam and Tucker, and show them the Ghost Zone.

He and Kirika had been trapped in the Quirk Universe for over a month now, and Danny would like to say that he'd gotten Shinsou to break out of his shell a bit more. Though he still remained tight lipped on a few subjects, Danny was sure that he'd be able to crack him by at least the new year in a few weeks.

At least once good thing came from this whole situation being that Japan didn't really celebrate Christmas, which had been the best thing he'd heard when Kirika told him that.

"So we're getting close to high school applications, you have any idea of where you're going to go if you're still in Japan?" Shinsou asked as they sat down to play a racing game together.

Danny frowned. He didn't like the fact that applications were so close, it was almost the middle of December, and applications were late January to mid February. The idea that he was going to be here long enough to actually start a new school in April was nauseating really.

"Nope, no clue. I don't think it really matters to me, after all I don't think I'll be staying to high school graduation anyway." Danny shrugged. "What about you? I'll probably try to get into whatever school you're going to, being the new transfer student again would suck."

Shinsou faltered in his game slightly, allowing Danny to take over him, but the boy shook his head minutely. "I dunno. There are a few schools I've been looking at..."

Danny pursed his lips at that response. It was hard to figure out but it kind of sounded like when Shinsou didn't want to talk about something. Was he...worried about Danny maybe making fun of him or something?

"Dude, I can tell you have your heart set on something. I promise to take you seriously if you tell me."

Shinsou fell silent at that, and the silence between them persisted until the race ended. Danny turned to look at his friend, wondering if the boy would quickly move away and drop the conversation completely, but Shinsou was still sat there silently his hands still on the wheel.

They sat there in silence for a short while before Shinsou closed his eyes, took a deep breath as if to brace himself, then responded. "I want to go to a hero school."

"Okay? That's cool. You'd probably make a pretty good hero." Danny shrugged, and almost jumped when Shinsou's head whipped around to look at him immediately. "What?"

"You...Shinsou stared looking so baffled, Danny was almost concerned. Then suddenly his expression hardened, as he had to shove down hope. "You're lying. No one ever thinks I can be hero, if they know about my quirk."

Danny sighed and turned his body to fully face Shinsou. "Remember how I said that your quirk didn't scare me? That's still true, and it's a really powerful quirk. If you want to use it to be a hero, then good for you, you'll be able to pull it off if you work for it. Really."

Shinsou stared at him wide eyed for a long moment, processing the words, before he gave Danny a gentle and shy smile before he looked away.

"Thanks..." He said quietly before clearing his throat. "Anyways, I bet you I can beat your ass at air hockey."

Danny smirked. "You're on."

[kirika art]

#danny phantom fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #danny phantom #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dp / mha crossover #locked out #ngl i forgot that i was also posting this to tumblr rip #i was just gonna copy/paste the ao3 link like i do my other fics but nope i also had to format it otherwise tumblr won't work w me

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mystery-fic-anon · 2 years

Text

We Should’ve Been Better Brothers

Summary: Papyrus (Mutt) has a bad day. Sans can't fix his mind, but at least he can cook him dinner. (My piece for the To the Bone Sans and Papyrus Zine.)

Warnings: Mutt has PTSD/a panic attack in this story. He is not doing well. No physical violence, but implied murder.

Thank you to @nugget4550 for beta reading.

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43199760

Sans walked the long route back to his home in Snowdin with purpose. Head up, eyes straight ahead. He took his steps with military precision, even when he wasn’t fully marching. It was subtle, but it dissuaded monsters from talking to him unless there was an urgent need. After the day he’d had, anything less than the entire town burning down was going to get the unfortunate soul who tried his patience a bone to the face.

His right shoulder flared in pain with every movement of his arms, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t let his usual strong posture shift, especially not because of some silly injury he’d gotten while training a new recruit. He had popped his shoulder back in only a few seconds after it had been dislocated; it had no right to still be aching hours later.

On top of the new recruit training today, which lasted 3 hours more than his usual shift—with no overtime, of course, it was the duty of the royal guard to help their comrades—Papyrus had fucking disappeared. Sans usually didn’t give a shit, but he had specifically asked Papyrus to wait for him by the guard post so they could go home together. It was the little flexes of authority that cemented his image to the general public, they both knew that, and Papyrus was usually the easiest one to flex power over.

When he had gone to finally drag Papyrus’ lazy ass home from his guard outpost, the bastard hadn’t been there. In fact, he hadn’t been at any of his usual smoke spots, or at Muffet’s. Sans had spent an extra two hours tromping around Snowdin, pretending that he wasn’t looking for his stupid fucking brother.

Luckily, no one except for Muffet seemed to notice something was off. She never responded to the veiled threats he made, and today was no different. She just offered him a drink with that sickly sweet smile, and said that if Papyrus did stop by later in the evening, she’d be sure to send for Sans to pick him up.

Sans had finally given up. If Papyrus didn’t want to be found, then he wasn’t going to bust his ass all night looking. Sans knew that sometimes Papyrus needed space or time alone to go spying, but usually he mentioned it beforehand. Whatever, he would just chew Papyrus out when he did show up.

Sans didn’t allow his expression to relax until he was inside the house with the door closed and triple-locked behind him. He heaved a sigh, leaning against the wall and lifting up one of his feet. Each of his boots hit the ground with a satisfying thud, after which Sans immediately picked them up and put them into their proper place. His armour came off next, the plates stacked neatly on their designated shelf, ready for him to wear again the next morning. Leaving only his shorts, chain mail, and bodysuit, Sans stepped into the living room.

There was a familiar figure sprawled across the couch.

“WHAT THE FUCK—” Sans cut himself off as Papyrus curled up.

The movement was fast and fluid, and only years of practice let Sans pick out the separate stages of it. Papyrus’ long legs suddenly went from being fully extended to folded up on one seat cushion. He pressed his head in between his knees. His arms folded up defensively around his head. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles sparking with magic as he tried to reign them in.

His boots and coat sat on the floor next to the couch, a fine coating of grey ash covering them.

When Sans stepped closer, the smell of fresh dust was obvious. Whatever had happened, it must have been bad for Papyrus to curl up like that.

Sans took a slow, deep breath. He took another, counting to ten. He clenched his own hands into fists, then released them. He did that three times, then took two more slow breaths, mentally counting all the while. The techniques were silly, but at least they still worked. Sans relaxed his hands, wincing a bit as his shoulder twinged.

Sans walked around the couch, and stopped once he was facing Papyrus. “Who do I have to kill?”

Papyrus didn’t curl up tighter, but he didn’t open up either. Not a promising sign, but Sans pressed on. He didn’t get into the royal guard by being a quitter.

“Mu—brother, it’s alright. It’s just me. I’m not going to judge you, I just need to know what happened so we can stay safe.”

Papyrus shook his head a bit, his entire body rocking side to side due to his position.

Sans took another deep breath. “Can you at least look at me? You’re injured, aren’t you? Come on, let me see your face.”

Sans took a step closer, and Papyrus flinched. Sans gritted his teeth together, turning a growl into a sigh. When Papyrus got into this kind of mood, nothing could make him talk. Bribing, cursing, and even threats fell on deaf ears. Papyrus had retreated somewhere Sans couldn’t follow, and now all Sans could do was work to bring him back.

“I’m going to cook dinner. You can just sit here and be a lazy ass like usual,” Sans said, doing his best to keep his tone dry. Anything beyond his usual sarcastic jabs was just going to make Papyrus worse.

Sans picked up the TV remote, and turned on the television. Sound blared from the speakers, and bones rattled on the couch. Sans quickly muted it, then set the remote down on the edge of the table close to Papyrus. Once the deed was done, Sans walked away quickly, not looking back once as he strode into the kitchen.

The shelves were just as bare as they had been when he’d left that morning. Well, there had been no point in going shopping anyways; the supply train to Snowdin was late again this week. The only thing that was always plentiful in the town was alcohol, and Sans didn’t much care for cooking with it.

No matter, Sans was used to working with fewer ingredients than his recipe books called for. Aside from some stale cereal, they had five mushrooms, three bruised tomatoes, an onion, a clove of garlic, and plenty of chilli powder left. The mushrooms were on the small side, and Sans looked over his ingredients with a pang of disappointment. It would be better if they had some kind of water sausage, or tofu for a source of protein. Or even some beans. Cheese, sour cream, lettuce… There wasn’t much to go inside the taco, let alone on top.

Sans would have complained to Papyrus, but he doubted he’d get a sympathetic listening ear. He might be a royal guard, but he still had to wait for supplies like the rest of the town. In the meantime, he’d simply have to make do with what he had. At least he had enough ingredients to actually make something this time, instead of silently eating whatever he’d found directly out of the box.

One of the main components of tacos was missing, though. He didn’t have any shells. That was going to be a problem.

As Sans looked through the pantry again, he found something hidden on the top shelf. It was so far back that it had almost become one with the wall, but when Sans pulled it down he almost yelled with joy. They still had some corn flour! Sans had been certain that he’d used up all of it last week, but there was an extra bag there, smaller than the one he’d brought home from the store.

It was just like Papyrus to stash things away for later, no matter how much food they had in the house. Sans had scolded him for it before, but they both knew that it wouldn’t do much. Papyrus had his eccentricities, and one of them was hiding food. At least he wasn’t putting things in the walls this time; it had taken months to get rid of the mice, and a good chunk of Sans’ salary had been spent on traps.

Sans started with the shells, since the tortilla dough needed to rest before he cooked them. The ingredients were simple, but Sans knew he could make them great. He added some chilli powder to the dough mixture, even if the book only called for a bit of salt and oil. He liked the kick, and Papyrus had never complained about it.

No matter how long his day had been, Sans always enjoyed cooking. There was something so relaxing about it, especially when he was making a familiar recipe. The process of cutting, pulverising, and mixing was a great way for him to work out some tension without destroying his practice dummies, and he liked tasting the results and comparing them to previous attempts. His own writing covered almost every space available in the margins of his cookbooks, and the original page for his taco recipe was illegible.

That was fine, Sans had already memorised the steps by heart. He mixed the dough, then sprinkled a bit of flour onto one of the counters. He divided the dough up into three normal-sized pieces and one smaller one. It wasn’t perfect, but Sans wasn’t going back now.

As he kneaded the dough Sans tilted his head, peeking through the kitchen door. Papyrus hadn’t moved much, but Sans could swear that his head was raised enough to watch the TV. Sans turned away, pressing both hands down in the centre of one lump of dough.

He banged the counter a bit harder than before, then winced. He didn’t look back at Papyrus, though. He just kept kneading the dough, even as guilt burned in his soul. No matter. He just had to make Papyrus the best dinner possible, and then the sheer appreciation for the food would bring Papyrus back to his usual self.

Once each tortilla had been rolled out and left to rest and the oven had been set to preheat, Sans had to wait a bit. If he started making the rest of the taco filling before baking the shells, then it would be ready far too early. No matter how much he hated sitting still, there was nothing for him to do.

The TV was muted, so he could hear every minute sound—or lack thereof—coming from the living room. Papyrus was still catatonic, seemingly immune to what was happening in the kitchen. Sans sighed, but he didn’t bother trying to goad his brother into coming into the kitchen. At least Papyrus was calm this time.

Sans paced around the kitchen, checked the sink to see if any dirty dishes had miraculously appeared, and finally just sat at the kitchen table.

The moment thirty minutes had gone by, Sans jumped up and went back to his dough. It had risen a bit less than usual, but when Sans prodded it the texture felt right. He freed the dough, and grabbed his baking tray and his rack.

A few Gyftmases ago, Papyrus had somehow found a metal rack which let Sans cook tortillas while they were folded into the shape of taco shells. It had really been a perfect gift; Sans hated to use store-bought shells since they were expensive and always stale, but he loved to eat tacos. His own home-made shells were far superior, but they took significantly longer to cook when he had to first cook the tortillas, and then bake them a second time in the right shape.

Papyrus would feel the benefits of his gift tonight. Sans rolled out the dough, then carefully laid each of the shells out on the tray. The rack had been made to hold the tacos, and while the edges of the bigger ones leaned against each other slightly, it was still enough support. Sans opened up the oven and slid the tray in, then pulled off his oven mitts.

Finally, Sans could move on to the filling. He wasn’t used to pulling his punches, but he forced himself to use less force than usual. He put down the pan instead of slamming it, and only left divots on the surface of the cutting board instead of pushing the knife halfway into the wood.

The tomatoes and onion went into the pan first, so they had plenty of time to cook together. Sans would add the mushrooms later, since they only needed a few minutes to cook fully. Sans stood in front of the stove, not taking his eyes off of the food for a second.

Sans chopped up the mushrooms, making sure to get some decent chunks. He had experimented with a few different methods, and he found that Papyrus preferred bigger bites over shredded mushrooms. It made the distribution of material in the tacos slightly uneven, but that didn’t matter tonight.

Once the vegetables were sizzling in the pan, Sans cracked open the oven to check on the tortillas. They were still a little pale, but they were definitely becoming more cooked. There were a few tiny brown spots on their surfaces, and Sans quickly closed the oven door so they would grow bigger.

Perhaps the food didn’t need to be stirred as much as he did it, but Sans didn’t care. He needed something to do with his hands, even if it was just the mind-numbing motion of pushing food back and forth. The sounds and smells wafting from the kitchen weren’t enough to tempt Papyrus’ curiosity, but Sans didn’t care about that. It just meant he’d be more surprised when Sans brought out such a glorious plate of food.

Soon, everything was finished cooking. Sans took his fillings off of the stove, and pulled the taco shells out of the oven. He tapped one with his finger lightly, and nodded in approval. They were firm to the touch, and the perfect golden colour. It was finally time to assemble everything.

Sans put two full-sized taco shells on Papyrus’ plate, while the third full-sized taco sat with the smaller one on his own. As much as he hated them, Sans found himself hoping that Papyrus would notice and make a short joke. He’d even take a bad pun over silence at this point.

Sans had already mixed the stuffing together in the pan, so all he really needed to do was divide it up properly. Sans put as much as he could into each taco, but the end result was only a meagre portion. He just hoped it was enough to fill Papyrus up. He added a bit more sauce on top, drizzling it in some abstract patterns. He wasn’t going to skimp on the presentation just because today had been a little difficult. He added a few extra cilantro leaves to each taco, then wiped the edges of both plates.

His spices were still on the counter, but he could put them away later. The kitchen wasn’t horribly messy, and the food would get cold if he stopped to clean now. Sans put some glasses of water into his inventory, then picked up the plates.

Sans lightened his steps as he came back into the living room. Papyrus had shifted a bit; his posture was more open now, but not by much. Papyrus met his gaze for a moment, then looked down at his own feet.

“Eat.” Sans put the plate down in front of Papyrus, and set the glass next to it. Then he sat down on the couch next to his brother.

Sans’ skull was turned towards the television, but his eyes stayed on Papyrus. Sans picked up one of his tacos and bit into it. Papyrus blinked, turning his head as if he was noticing the food for the first time. Sans did his best to stay calm, and act nonchalant as he chewed slowly. Papyrus leaned in and picked up one of his tacos, then bit into it with a loud crunch. A few pieces of shell fell down onto the plate, but Sans felt himself relaxing already.

Sans took another bite of his taco, chewing normally. It was… decent. Sans could definitely taste the missing ingredients, but he had done the best with what he had.

An NTT special was now playing, but Sans didn’t pay it any mind. He barely even paid attention to his food. He watched carefully as Papyrus ate, ready to intervene in a second if something went wrong.

Papyrus ate slower than usual, but at least he was eating. His hands were still a little shaky, but the way he was leaning in meant that all of the crumbs fell back on the plate instead of on his own shirt. He still seemed a bit off, but that also could have just been the exhaustion of going through… whatever he was remembering. Sans didn’t fully understand Papyrus’ personal demons, and he knew better than to pry, especially at a time like this.

Neither brother said a word to each other. Sans wasn’t afraid to break the silence, but it didn’t seem appropriate. Papyrus would speak up when he was ready, and Sans wasn’t going to push him. He was eating; that was all Sans needed.

Once Sans was done with his food, he folded his hands in his lap. He curled his fingers inwards, so Papyrus couldn’t see them. He idly picked at the tips of his gloves, his gaze still trained on Papyrus. Papyrus was eating with a bit more enthusiasm now, and Sans felt pride at the thought that Papyrus had appreciated his cooking.

Papyrus finished off his whole plate, and ran his fingers over it to collect the crumbs. Sans clenched his teeth as Papyrus licked his fingers, but he didn’t say anything. Well, they weren’t eating at the table, so he supposed he could let it slide. He would take it as a sign that Papyrus enjoyed the meal, rather than bad manners.

Sans had long since finished his own food, and once Papyrus was done he quickly got to work. He stacked his glass on top of his plate, then picked it up. He took Papyrus’ plate and glass in his other hand, and stood up. He glanced back at Papyrus, then turned to head for the kitchen.

“Thanks.”

It was said so quietly that Sans almost didn’t hear the word. He stopped walking and tilted his head, but didn’t look back at Papyrus. Neither of them were particularly good at emotional vulnerability, and he didn’t want to startle his brother. If he mentioned something about it not being a problem, would that make Papyrus feel like a burden?

Sans considered the possible answers he could give, but ultimately, sticking to their routine seemed like the best course of action. While some aspects of his routine weren’t enjoyable, Sans took a certain comfort in their cyclical nature, and Papyrus seemed like he could use some of that stability. Besides, Sans didn’t want Papyrus to feel like he was condescending or treating him differently.

“Yes, you should be thanking me. I’m the best cook in this rotten town and you know it,” Sans said smugly. He might be laying it on thick, but he couldn’t help it. “Take your time on the couch now, lazybones, because once my kitchen is spotless, I’ll be back here again!”

Sans walked into the kitchen, his soul feeling lighter than before. He was still tired, of course, but at least his work hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sans would do anything for Papyrus regardless, but it was still nice to be appreciated.

Sans began humming under his breath as he piled dirty dishes in the sink. He’d check in on Papyrus later, but it seemed like things were improving, and that was enough to let him properly relax while he cleaned the kitchen. The main crisis was averted, so now all that was left was for Sans to keep an eye on Papyrus, and give him the space to pull himself back together.

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ohbutwheresyourheart · 2 years

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Fertile Wounds - Part 1

@n0isy-gh0st requested creepy Willy/Madeleine and I am nothing if not an overachiever so here is part 1 of idk how many parts. Welcome to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss hours. It's gonna get fucked up.

In the wake of the Golden Ticket tour, over ten years since they last met, Willy and Madeleine have begun to reconcile. The sweetness of their reunion, however, is soured by Madeleine's realisation that something is very, very wrong in the factory, and with Madeleine herself.

WARNINGS: Body horror, gore, unreality/gaslighting.

Madeleine knew most people were discomfited, at best, by her tattoos. It was why she normally wore long sleeves while working in Elysium (not so much Rapture; the primarily studenty bar clientele was less likely to be put off); to uphold the image of the warm, inviting patissier. A woman made of honey and spun sugar.

Underneath her clothes, she was covered in brambles with thick, wicked thorns. They were expertly rendered and looked sharp enough to draw blood. Despite being just ink on her skin, Madeleine had noticed people thought twice about touching her after seeing them. Which suited her just fine.

So it didn't surprise her to notice the sidelong glances the Buckets passed between each other. Wondering what she, with her arms full of thorns and her cynical attitude, thought she was doing there in Candyland. All save the youngest Bucket; Charlie was too young to grasp the full nuance of everything that had gone into her tattoos but he looked at her sometimes as if he had an idea of the broad strokes. Madeleine had seen him turn that knowing gaze on Willy, too. She wasn't sure what to make of being on the receiving end of it herself, but it wasn't as uncomfortable an experience as she would have expected. Charlie was a perceptive and remarkably good-hearted child.

What Willy thought of the thicket of thorns that had grown over the original wildflowers during their time apart, Madeleine was equally uncertain of. He hadn't said a word about them so far, although he occasionally traced a finger along a twisting stem, deftly avoiding the thorns. When he kissed her, he found the few patches of bramble-free skin to press his lips against. Madeleine had left the space on the back of her shoulder untouched; the berry-coloured lip print remained, and he took it as an invitation.

How did Madeleine feel, these days? Tired, mostly; weary of clutching her pain so close to her chest and pretending it was a shield. She yearned to drop it and allow herself to feel, fully and freely, once again, but so many years holding the same defensive position had cramped up her muscles: she couldn't just decide to stop being cautious.

And yet. When she woke up next to Willy, the taste of candy apples in her mouth, it became harder and harder to think of reasons not to stay forever. Madeleine would lie there, thinking fiercely about the businesses she had built with her own two hands - hers, truly and only hers - but her pride melted away all too quickly when she looked into Willy's sleeping face. The unbridled joy that never failed to illuminate him when he woke up and saw her.

Harder and harder to pull herself away. Easier and easier to listen to Willy when he asked her to stay. At times, it felt like they were back in the old days, the good days; the handful of months when everything at the factory seemed to be going so well and they were on top of the world together.

Sweet and good and smooth, like buttercream on her tongue.

That was why it took her so long to notice something wasn't right.

They didn’t sleep together right away - despite the knowing looks from the older Buckets, those first few nights really were essentially a sleepover - but, when they did, it was just as Madeleine remembered. Except hungrier, maybe: they had a lot of time to make up for.

Afterwards, they got to know each other’s bodies again. Willy traced a careful finger along her brambles, deftly avoiding the thorns. He didn’t say much, but there was an awful, knowing look in his eyes. Madeleine had become marginally more capable of being known in the past decade, however, and she managed to meet his gaze rather than physically and verbally deflecting as she used to. That earned her a smile, small and sweet as a new summer strawberry.

“I think these could flower again, you know,” he remarked. “I’ll just have to be careful ‘til then.”

“Don’t worry, the thorns only cut people I don’t like.”

As for Willy, he was much the same as before; still a hair too skinny, worn thin by the sheer intense mania of being Willy Wonka. Madeleine enjoyed running her fingers through his longer, silky-soft hair; enjoyed, too, the very familiar way he melted into her touch like a cat. The reason for his perpetually gloved hands became clearer - the chemical stains that had begun to take hold in the old days were much clearer and stronger now. Each tapered, elegant finger was blotchy with shades of purple, yellow, green, blue, magenta. They looked bruised, if you didn’t know better.

“Tie-dye fingers,” she teased him, just like she used to, kissing each fingertip in turn. “You hippy.”

What did shock her was the scar: an ugly, knotted puncture wound on his side, as if something had gone for his liver. Which, it transpired, was exactly the case.

“A big old wangdoodle got me while I was exploring Loompaland. I woulda been a goner if the Oompa Loompas hadn’t found me: wangdoodles are the most toxic creatures in the world, it’s why they go for the liver.”

Madeleine lay back as the story washed over her. She’d seen the Oompa Loompas - even grown accustomed to them - but Willy’s stories still carried a sense of unreality. Could it really be possible he discovered a completely unknown country populated by horrendous monsters and cocoa bean worshipping little people?

And yet. If anyone can achieve the impossible, it’s Willy Wonka - and he did say he was going to the ends of the earth.

Whether it was true or not, Madeleine was willing to believe. Willy wove the story so deftly she couldn’t see the seams even if she squinted. Sweeter, then, to take it at face value; to be swept up in the dream. Just like old times. The thought sent a pang through her.

“So were your travels worth it, Gulliver?” Madeleine was proud of how light and inconsequential she managed to keep her tone. The ends of the earth. So far, just to be away from her and the mess she’d made.

No matter. He was back now, and so was she.

Willy chuckled, oblivious to her inner conflict. “I sure felt like I’d woken up in Lilliput at first. I don’t think they knew what to make of me any more than I did them. Lucky for me, the chief at the time was a curious kind of guy and he wanted to talk to me - well, eventually. It took a while for me to learn their language well enough to get anything across.”

“They speak English now, though.”

“Yeah, they learned pretty fast once they arrived here. Honestly, I was really impressed, ‘specially since they just had me around to learn from. They’re clever little guys and gals. Took to the factory work like they were made for it, too; you’d never guess Loompaland was just jungle as far as the eye could see.”

Madeleine rolled onto her side, leaning on her elbow. “Have you ever been back?”

“I went back and forth a few times to bring the Oompa Loompas over here. They wanted to send an expedition party first; it made sense, they’d never been outta Loompaland before, and they wanted to make sure I wasn’t gonna do anything awful to ‘em. So those guys had to go and report back and then they took a vote on all of them moving out to the factory. They’re very democratic, the Oompa Loompas - natural union members,” Willy added with a wink. “You’d approve.”

“Yeah, I heard the office staff have a union. I tried to poke my head in once after five to grab some files, I thought they were going to come after me with pitchforks.”

Willy laughed again, although it was now a much more awkward sound. For once, he was the one who couldn’t meet Madeleine’s eyes. “Yeah. That… That’s ‘cause of you, actually. Well, kind of. I — I mean, I knew how hard you worked, but it wasn’t until I had to do it myself…” Willy grimaced. “Maddy, how’d you do it?”

Oh, no. No. Not this. Not when everything was so sweet and good. Madeleine tensed. Her heart was already beating faster, her breath catching in her throat. No. Not this, not now.

Of all the times for Willy “Never-Talk-About-The-Past” Wonka to decide he will, after all, talk about the past.

“Badly,” she reminded him, aiming for flippant but knowing at once she’d missed the mark. “Remember?”

“What…” Willy sat up, all traces of post-coital languidness gone. “No — Madeleine, you can’t think — it wasn’t your fault! It was those damn spies, and the bank, and those useless investors—”

“You don’t have to coddle me,” Madeleine cut in, pushing herself up to sit against the pillows with her knees pulled up to her chest. “If you’ve forgiven me, that’s fine, but don’t pretend you didn’t blame me — didn’t have reason to blame me… Look, can we just not talk about this? Please?”

She couldn’t sit there and listen to him try to make excuses for her. She knew the narrative and she accepted it: she fucked up, came this close to costing Willy his dream forever, and in return he cut her loose as a liability he couldn’t continue to shoulder. It hurt more than anything else in her life - came closer to killing her than the overdose did - but it made sense. If Willy didn’t hate and blame her back then, why leave? It turned an act of considered cruelty into one of random malice, which made it so much harder to swallow.

She couldn’t stand to hear any of it. The accusations or, worse, the gentle avoidance of placing blame. The pity. She’d rather die than be pitied, and no matter that she had been plenty pitiful in her life. Pride was all she had, wrapped as tightly around her as the thorns inked into her skin.

“Madeleine.” Willy’s voice was soft; not with gentleness, but as if he was too afraid of what he was about to say to speak it any louder. “Have you thought I blamed you all this time?”

A sound erupted out of Madeleine; you couldn’t call it a laugh, not that clash of broken glass. “If you didn’t blame me, why did you leave me behind? I — I understand, okay?” Madeleine forced out, voice cracking. “You didn’t sign up to deal with — that — you wanted out, I understand—”

Stop talking - stop it, stop it - you’ll make it worse - you’ll prove how much is still wrong with you - SHUT UP!

But she couldn’t; like vomit, the words rose up and just keep coming, the dam of brain-to-mouth filter completely breaking down. Madeleine opened her mouth and words spewed forth. What remained of her conscious mind could only watch, as horrified as Willy, by this brand new mess. An image of herself as a broken bottle of wine on the floor flashed through her mind, red liquid seeping into a cream rug: irreparable.

“I understand,” she repeated, because she needs to stress this above all else. “I ruined it — I ruined everything—”

“Maddy — stop — just listen—”

Willy reached out, grabbed her arm — and immediately released her with a savage cry of pain. He yanked his hand back, cradling it to his chest. A dark red ribbon ran from his hand down his arm and dripped onto the bedsheets. It was so sudden and so incomprehensible that they both simply stared for a moment before realising—

“Oh my God, you’re bleeding — how — why — oh, God!”

Madeleine, reaching for his hand to see the damage, recoiled when she saw the huge thorn sticking clean through Willy’s hand. It looked impossibly big, the length of a finger, the end red with blood. Pushing through her horror and revulsion, Madeleine took hold of his hand and tried desperately to remember what you were meant to do with a puncture wound — did should she push the thorn out one way, or the other, or leave it alone entirely? Every second of indecision, more blood pumped out of Willy's hand - on him, on her, on the bed. Willy himself just stared in mute horror; finally, he raised his eyes to look at her.

“They only cut people you don’t like,” he echoed, voice dull.

Madeleine woke with a start, gasping for breath. The bedroom was shadowy and she was not alone; Willy sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. At once, Madeleine grabbed for his hand, holding it up and squinting in the dim light: it was ungloved, and unharmed. Madeleine stared at it, uncomprehending.

“What…” Madeleine didn’t even know what to ask. How much of what just happened was real? She was no longer naked, either, she realised belatedly; she was wearing her pyjamas. “Willy, what…?”

“It’s okay.” Willy’s voice was as warm and sweet as melted chocolate. He threaded his fingers through hers, pulled her hand to his lips to kiss the palm and then folded her fingers down, as if to keep it a secret. “I’m gonna make everything okay, Maddy, I promise. I mean it this time. You’re gonna be happy here.”

“I hurt you.” Madeleine couldn’t take her eyes off his hand. There wasn’t even a scratch. It was a dream. And yet, it didn’t feel that way.

“No, no, you didn’t,” Willy assured her. “Nothing bad can happen here. Not to us. Not ever again.”

Madeleine couldn’t think. She felt — syrupy, now, after the initial adrenaline burst; detached. The questions and concerns were all there, but kept at bay behind a pane of glass. Like when she was double- and triple-dosing on alprazolam. Had she—? No, she can’t have, she hadn’t had a prescription in years, the doctors wouldn’t give her one anymore. But losing track of time, unreliable memories: they had been signs, before, she was taking far too much.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” she confessed, driven to an honesty that would be impossible if she were in her right mind. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing bad,” Willy repeated. The way he said it made it sound like a mantra. His eyes, wide and a little fearful, only lent further credence to the notion. “Nothing bad. I promise. I promise.”

“...No,” Madeleine said slowly, groping for coherent thought. “I—I did, I hurt you — again — I need to… need to…”

“Sleep,” Willy cut in. He swallowed, hard, and squeezed her hand. “Please? Try to sleep. It’ll be okay in the morning. It really will. You’ll see.”

“Vouloir, c’est pouvoir, my dear; give me your will and I’ll show you the way.”

When Madeleine woke next, it was to bright light. The vast majority of the factory did not receive any sunlight, but the lights had been programmed to brighten and dim to reflect the day-and-night cycle of the outside world. Madeleine estimated it was mid-morning.

As she stretched and shrugged off the last vestiges of sleep, she was struck by a sense of unease that she could not place the source of. Within a few minutes, however, it had dissipated entirely. The lingering remnants of a bad dream? She'd had more than a few of those in her time. Madeleien was just glad she hadn't woken up with a head full of nightmare images.

On the contrary, she felt great: well-rested and content. The only tiny fly in the ointment was that she didn't wake up next to Willy, but he was a notorious early riser and had probably been at work for hours already. While she slept on in slothful indolence... well, it was her weekend, technically.

Still, Madeleine reflected as she clambered out of bed and went through to the bathroom, she'd have a word with him about finding something she could help out with. Just sitting around the factory discomfited her; she was so accustomed to being busy that she couldn't acclimate herself to having nothing to do.

It made her smile to see her toothbrush next to Willy's; her favourite toiletries once again populating the bathroom cabinet. Was that even... yes, the marshmallow and sugar plum scented bubble bath that had heralded the end of many delightful evenings stood next to the enormous bath. Hmm, that might be giving her ideas...

Madeleine reached out for the bottle, intending to take a sniff to prompt a few more of those memories — and stopped short, frowning at her hand. What was...

There, in her nail beds: semicircles of rust. Of, she realised with a lurch, dried blood.

An image flashed into her mind: Willy's hand, pierced and bleeding. Then, like that was the key in the lock, the rest of the memory gunned through her mind's eye. Madeleine's breath hitched and her legs weakened; she half-collapsed to sit on the edge of the bath. Her heart pounded in her chest, blood rushing in her ears.

He'd promised she hadn't hurt him. He'd promised it hadn't been real... no, wait, he hadn't said that, had he? Not in so many words?

But there hadn't been a scratch on him.

But, if it hadn't been real, why was his blood quite literally on her hands?

But how could it have been real? Did she really think a thorn had come out of her skin and attacked Willy? That was insane. No... no, she'd... she'd cut herself, or something, and not noticed. Scratched herself in her sleep and drawn a bit of blood. Something. Anything. Anything at all other than this madness.

Madeleine, in the wake of the episode that got her sectioned and resulted in Willy fleeing the country, had at times had a tentative relationship with concepts like time and memory, but hallucinations was an untapped market. She would like, very badly, for it to stay that way.

Then again, which was the worse prospect — that she was going mad, or that it was all somehow real?

Nothing bad can happen here, Willy had promised.

Except, one way or another, it already had.

#you'll be free (if you truly wish to be)#madeleine #willy #willy wonka #charlie and the chocolate factory #technically an au of an au #the 'real' post-movie installment will (hopefully) be a lot more uhhh healthy #but we'll see because I do love fucked up relationships

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auxiliarydetective · 2 years

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Falling for Hogan's Heroes - Day 18: "It's just a scratch."

“Boy, those daggers sure are trouble”, Carter blurted out as soon as the tunnel entrance was closed.

“Yeah, if every Kraut carries those things now, we’re in trouble”, Kinch murmured. “Peter, how do you feel?”

“I’m alright”, Newkirk grumbled. “It’s just a scratch.”

Kinch shook his head. He could clearly see the deep cut in Newkirk’s arm. To think he might have been able to prevent it if he had punched the attacker sooner. He had to at least make up for it now by making sure the wound got treated. But Newkirk was stubborn. There was only a very slim chance he would let anyone get close and fuss over him. Well, anyone except one person. Knowing her, she couldn’t be far. Carter, Kinch and Newkirk started making their way towards the radio room.

“That’s a nasty wound”, Carter frowned. “Are you sure you don’t wanna get it checked out?”

“I told you, I’m fine”, Newkirk insisted.

Kinch suppressed a smile. Time to see how long he would keep saying that and when he’d crack. From the radio room, voices could be heard. One was Baker’s. The other was Vicky’s enchanting laughter. A glance over at Newkirk was enough to recognize the effect it had on him. He was already softening up. As soon as they entered, Vicky turned around, smiled, then frowned.

“Newkirk, what happened to your arm?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really”, Newkirk said, making a dismissive gesture.

But Vicky had already locked on to her target. She walked up to him with quick steps and eyed the cut critically.

“Kinch, what happened?”

“We ran into some Krauts with daggers”, Kinch explained. “He got hurt during the fight.”

Vicky sighed heavily. “Come on, tough one”, she told Newkirk. “Let’s at least get that wound cleaned up.”

Suddenly, as if by a miracle, Newkirk followed like an obedient puppy, holding Vicky’s hand. This whole situation was really funny to Kinch sometimes. To think Vicky and Newkirk probably had to think they were being subtle about their relationship. Or maybe they didn’t. They were obviously physically affectionate, Newkirk a lot more than Vicky was, but they always used the excuse that that was just how they were with people. It was true, Newkirk was always closer than he should be to any attractive woman and Vicky gave out cheek kisses and the closest thing to cuddles freely, but still: What they were doing with each other was far beyond the usual.

Newkirk sat down on one of the benches and took off his hat and gloves. Meanwhile, Vicky grabbed all the supplies she needed. Carefully, she cut off Newkirk’s sleeve and pulled it off his arm to fully reveal the wound.

“You poor thing”, she murmured. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not as much now that I’m with you, me love”, Newkirk replied with a grin.

Vicky giggled quietly. “I think the pain got to your head. Saying things like that…”

Then, she started cleaning the cut, careful to be as gentle as possible. All throughout, Newkirk watched her in admiration. It was a good distraction from the pain. Actually, it was a good activity at all times, not just a distraction. It was especially fun to see Vicky’s cheeks turn pink because, even if she never said anything about it, she always seemed to be aware when he was staring at her, even if only subconsciously. As she worked, Vicky asked Newkirk questions about the mission which he answered in great detail, always checking to see if she was impressed yet. Finally, the bandage was in place and Newkirk gained his reward for being a good patient: A kiss on the nose.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Vicky asked. “I don’t understand why you always try to avoid getting your injuries treated.”

“I, uh-”

“You want to be tough.”

“... Yeah.”

Vicky sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Peter, getting your wounds treated doesn’t make you weak. Not getting them treated will and it will make you look stupid because you were too stubborn to get the injury looked at.”

“Good thing you’re the one taking care of me”, Newkirk said with a smile. “You’re me main reason for caring about wounds at all.”

“I’m glad to be giving you some motivation. Now, up the tunnel you go. Roll call is in a few minutes.”

#hogan's heroes #peter newkirk #andrew carter #james kinchloe #hogan's heroes oc #oc: vicky brandt #zoe allen #falling for hogan's heroes #fanfiction

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welldonebeca · 2 years

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For You (VIII)

WC: 1.2k Warnings: Royal AU. Fluff. A wedding.

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Masterlist

Rose smiled at Rey right as the carriage pulling the two in the abbey’s direction stopped. She was beautiful in her dress and flower crown, holding the blue hydrangeas in her delicate hand, a smaller version of what the queen herself had in hand.

Along with Ben, she had decided their wedding should be scaled down – she was a widow, and he was a simple man. Rey had had the wedding ceremony of her dreams with Armitage, and the actual marriage had been a nightmare from beginning to end. This was an opportunity for her to have something better and different with Ben.

Except that she couldn’t do what she wanted. She was a Queen, and had duties to her country and people. That meant that in moments like these, she had no privacy.

So she scaled down where she could. Rose was her only maid of honour, she limited the numbers of guests and gave priorities to friends over public figures, and made it clear this wasn’t a dynastic union. This was a marriage built out of love and trust. Loads of it.

Her dress also wasn’t fully white, but a mixture of ivory and cream that put to ease the rumours and chit-chats that had started since she announced her engagement.

Her cousin walked in front of her, full of smiles, but Rey knew that if it’d been for the two of them, she would be by her side, taking her to Ben, but this time she was alone.

Benjamin had his back turned to her, and Rey could see how nervous he was. His large shoulders were tense, and he was shifting from one foot to the other very nervously.

Rey clenched her flowers in her hands. Oh, she would skip to him if she could, just so she could kiss him and hug him, and tell him everything was going to be fine.

He couldn’t turn around, and she knew it, her poor groom, but she couldn’t look at anyone else as she strode in his direction, timing her steps to the march playing, and trying to keep her breath steady.

Rey smiled when Poe turned around to look at her, and he reflected her expression, whispering something to Ben, who shifted on his spot, and the queen jumped in surprise when Rose abandoned her spot and walked to her, taking her hand in hers and leading her cousin on the last steps.

“Rose,” she chastised her in a whisper.

“Shh. You’re the Queen, and I’m the princess. We can break the rules sometimes.”

Rey laughed, and Ben turned around the second she stepped by his side, grinning largely.

“There you go,” her cousin said to him. “Take care of her, will you?”

“Always,” he promised.

Rey kissed her hand before releasing it and took Ben’s right hand in hers, giving her flowers to the last flower girl, and stood by his side as her groom clenched his fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she grinned.

Rey almost didn’t hear the music around them as it echoed through the walls, nor the bishop’s words. She had waited for almost a decade for this day, and now… well, she didn’t even care for what was happening, only for what it meant.

“Aurelia and Benjamin, I now invite you to join hands and make your vows in the presence of God and his people,” the bishop announced, waking her up from the haze of looking into his eyes.

Rey took in a deep breath, swallowing down, and took his hands, smiling at Ben when she realised he was pale and trembling.

“I, Benjamin Chewbacca, take you Aurelia Rebecca Elizabeth...” he recited and stopped midway through her names, clearly confused. “Geraldine...”

Rey her lower lip, trying not to chuckle, and Poe cleared his throat by his side.

“Sheeva Sabé,” he whispered.

“Sabé Sheeva,” her groom continued, still stumbling a bit, blushing up to his ears.

Rey had a long name. She was named after her mother, Elizabeth, her grandmothers, Rebecca and Sabé, and her father, Sheev, as tradition dictated, which gave her a significant number of first names.

“To be my wife,” the bishop continued, trying to ignore his slip.

“To be my wife,” her groom continued, repeating his words. “To have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, to cherish and serve, ‘til death do us part according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God, I make this vow.”

Rey couldn’t help it but raise his hand and kiss his knuckles, reassuring him he had done well.

“Your majesty,” the bishop called her. “Repeat after me.”

Rey nodded, breathing in deep.

“I, Aurelia Elizabeth Rebecca Sheeva Sabé,” she recited, now in the right order of her names. “Take you, Benjamin Chewbacca, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, to cherish and obey, ‘til death do us part according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God, I make this vow.”

Behind her, Rose chuckled, and Poe held back the same reaction as he gave the rings to the old man celebrating the ceremony, who quickly walked to stand before the couple.

“Heavenly Father, let these rings bid Aurelia and Benjamin as a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vows they made today.”

Ben’s right hand was shaking a bit when he took the first ring from the bishop, and she offered him her right hand, as it was the tradition in her country, smiling when he slid it and placed it around her fourth finger.

“Aurelia, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage,” he spoke loudly, though shaky. “With my body, I honour you, and swear to love and protect you from this day until the end of my days.”

He kissed her knuckles right after it settled, and she could see as he tried to keep himself from crying, and reached for his ring just as well.

“Benjamin, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage,” she stared into warm brown eyes, speaking firmly. “With my body, I honour you and swear to love and obey you from this day until the end of my days.”

She slid the ring onto his finger and kissed it just as he had done before, raising her gaze to see Bucky sniffing, and put her hands over his when he cupped her cheeks, eager to kiss her, ready to pull her close.

“Not now,” she whispered.

He blushed even more, and Rey could hear some giggles echoing around them, ignoring it.

“I, therefore, proclaim that you are husband and wife,” the bishop announced.

They joined hands, and the bishop put his own hand over theirs.

“God has joined you together,” he announced. “No one can tear you apart.”

Ben tightened his fingers around Rey’s hand, and kissed her knuckles again, raising his voice in a little whisper just for just the two of them to hear.

“No one.”

. . .

"For You" was fully posted in my Patreon back in January! To read it fully before anyone else, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I post something new almost everyday.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @letsdisneythings @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

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For You tags: Open

#For You series #star wars reylo #reylo fluff #reylo #reylo modern au #reylo smut #reylo fanfic #reylo fiction #reylo fandom #reylo royal au

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taughtdefense · 4 months

Text

THE OVERHEAD LIGHTS IN YOUR BEDROOM REMAIN SWITCHED OFF, but the light in the hallway provide a crack of light to filter in across the room, light stretched across robby’s body & across your body, you gently hum along to a song that only you can hear in your head, one that’s been playing on a loop thanks to your alternate’s self timeline hyperfixating on the song. you’re gazing softly at robby, head height with him, pressed up against him gently. the blankets are tangled up around your legs. one of your hands is delicately cupping his face while your other hand lightly scratches his back, random patterns. you barely look away from him, just wanting to make sure he’s real, that this isn’t just a dream or a trick somehow. you’d had a pretty intense ptsd flashback & AVH attack almost two hours ago, brought on by the repulsas being on the valley news. they’d shown a video of auryn, orlando & rita - auryn’s father & mother - standing side-by-side at a press conference for some important event. you didn’t really listen… until auryn spoke. your ex-boyfriend’s short speech about keeping a strong, reliant foothold in the valley’s community had set you off this time.

you’d heard silver’s voice in your head pretty much after his speech ended, & you froze up on the couch like you were stuck in suspended animation. for one minute & seventeen seconds. after you’d remembered that you were no longer in the back room of the dojo, dying alone & terrified as silver landed punch after kick, you’d locked yourself in the ensuite bathroom in your room. you’d tried to cry quietly into your hands, where robby wouldn’t hear you. he managed to calm you down enough, & you’d quietly asked him to please help you, which resulted in… your current states. your eyes hurt & there are clearly dark circles under your eyes, but you’d been in your right mind to consent to him. you wanted him to help you… you wouldn’t have asked him if you weren’t. the panic went away almost immediately, & the silver voice has been dead silent since the moment you held robby’s hand. its bliss, or something close to it. you don’t know if you’ll ever fully know peace again.

❝ were you ever going to tell me the truth? ❞ @taughtpain murmurs.

pure instinct makes your whole body tense slightly, hands freezing in place while your heart jumps into your throat, beginning to pick up in speed, which you can clearly hear with the way your head is positioned on your pillow. your brain is torn between immediately trying to throw on your clothes & sprint towards the door, or completely ignore/deflect his words, somehow play dumb or turn the conversation topic to something much more digestible & far safer than this one.

he’s talking about auryn… your 'relationship' with the blond, because it couldn’t exactly be called romantic. it couldn’t then, it still can’t now. you’ve been anticipating this conversation for a few months now when you broke up with auryn & started dating him, but also dreading it. the dark, imposing shadow of auryn still lingers around the edges of your psyche, crushing you like metaphysical weights attached to every inch of your body. you don’t like thinking about what you’ve gone through, because when you do, it sends you spiraling. both with auryn & more recently with silver. auryn took advantage of your hurt state & used it to his advantage. then silver basically crushed it underfoot altogether. the scar on your abdomen from the katana is proof of that. like with the scar from your death experience(s - two ), your heavily scarred psyche is something you can’t fully repair. all-powerful except when it comes to erasing my traumas. you think bitterly, but you don’t take your eyes off robby for a second. you’re sure your creators have everything to do with that part.

some days, you can barely breathe, or find the strength to pretend to be fine. sometimes, you jump whenever someone slams a door too loudly, or flinch whenever he’s mentioned… something all of your friends have grown increasingly careful about lately. & you’re grateful for them, of course, but they can’t completely erase your nightmares or ptsd. the flashback you had earlier involved auryn being entirely emotionless as he told you that he’s what you deserve, that he's the only person you deserve. ( the evidence of robby switching sides in the karate war made you inclined to believe him. you weren't strong enough to prevent any of the shit that happened. it's your fault. for all of it. )

❝ i- ❞ i don’t want to talk about this. the words are unbearably searing hot where they rest on the tip of your tongue. ❝ no, i wasn’t p-planning on ever… um, telling you about it. ❞ you murmur to him instead, the admittance soft like you’re scared of his reaction ( you are, you’re scared of judgement, of anger ), eyes flashing down towards his knuckles. the admittance even surprises you. you blink in surprise of yourself. you’re not sure why you said that, but it’s too late to take it back now. your eyes quickly move back up towards his face, like you’re somehow expecting that his knuckles will magically become dotted with auryn’s or silver’s blood the second you stare at his hands for too long. like it'll be your fault if that happens.

❝ there’s nothing to really talk about, either? at least, i-i don’t think so. a-auryn was a shitty boyfriend. that’s all. ❞ you add softly. that’s clearly not everything that happened… & you had a feeling that robby would have asked questions eventually, he’s not stupid or oblivious, & you never thought him capable of being anything like that. not even once. the signs were slowly becoming more & more prevalent in your relationship as it became saturated in toxicity & controlling, even if you didn’t realize it at the time. trying to sugarcoat it any other way is pointless, you know that now. you were abused by auryn - it wasn’t love. it was pure manipulation & control he exercised over you, he used your fucked up emotional states against you, weaponizing your own thoughts against you in the process - he made you think you were the villain in all of this, that you deserved everything that happened to you.

❝ are you... mad at me ? ❞ you ask robby, words barely audible. this version of you is nothing like yourself… or the person you'd been a year ago. you don't think you're ever going to be the same ethan ever again.

you either want to scream or start crying, but you don’t want to worry robby. you lean over to kiss him a little feverishly, getting lost in the kiss quicker than you mean to. you're trying to prolong talking about this, even if its important. a hand settles on his shoulder, eyes closing after a few moments. it’s perhaps against your better judgement ( you don’t know if it’ll cause your current situation to… escalate, again - not that you’d mind that ), but you want it to feel like there’s no one else in the world right now except for him. he’s the only person that matters to you right now. the karate war & silver expanding his cobra kai empire be damned straight to hell. …even still, though, you know you’re depending on robby a lot mentally & emotionally because of everything that happened, & that’s not fair to him. you know it’s not, & you suppose you’ll have to repent for that later in some form. you just hope you don’t wind up pushing him away by being clingy.

#taughtpain #in character. / season 5.#main verse.: miyagi fang. — ❝ i ached for warmth & peace. the universe laughed at me. ❞#a*ryn really fucked with ethan :(((#// suggestive

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freyayuki · 1 year

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Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia Rem Tokimiya Banner

The Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) event just started in the Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia (DFFOO) mobile game. This event came with 1 banner.

Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) Banner

The Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) banner features the following chars and their weapons:

Ceodore Harvey from Final Fantasy IV - Burst or BT only

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0 - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Seven from Final Fantasy Type-0 - 15cp, 35cp, and Ex

Have everything on this banner except for Ceodore’s BT, Rem’s LD, Seifer’s Ex, and Seifer’s LD.

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0 (#ad) is a support with pretty good buffs and auras. She can battery. She can heal.

With her LD, Rem does a follow-up attack every time she moves. One of the things that really sets her apart from other supports is her ability to swap her turns with another one of her allies.

This form of turn manipulation is especially useful for slower chars. For example, Rem has very good synergy with Machina Kunagiri from Final Fantasy Type-0.

Whenever Machina uses his special HP attack that he gets after using his BT+ finisher, he will delay himself. Rem can swap their turns so Machina can move more often.

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII is a debuffer and delayer who can also deal decent enough damage. He’s pretty good but I don’t really need him. I already have built chars who can debuff and delay.

Thoughts about Rem Tokimiya and Seifer Almasy

Seifer is the returning or old LD on this banner. I’ve been able to get by just fine without him so I’m certain I can continue getting by without him although it would be nice if I could get his Ex and LD. His Ex is actually one of the few that I’m still missing.

Rem would be nice to have too. Don’t really need her either though even if I do have a fully built and maxed Machina. I’ve been using Machina ever since I got his Burst to BT+ 3/3 so pretty sure I could make do without Rem.

Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) Banner Tickets Pulls Results

Didn’t want to use gems on this banner but since I was pretty interested in Seifer and Rem, and since I was missing a few things on this banner, decided to try my luck with tickets. Currently only have 403 tickets on hand.

Got the usual bronze and silver trash as well as some gold dupes. When I was down to 383 tickets, Rem’s LD showed up.

It came from a gold orb. Also got a dupe of Seven’s 35cp on this pull.

Was really pleased to see Rem’s LD, of course. In retrospect, should have stopped throwing tickets on this banner after getting Rem’s LD. Should have just walked away now while I still had 300+ tickets.

But I was still missing Seifer’s Ex and LD, and since I still had tickets, decided to keep going for a bit longer.

Didn’t think this banner was gonna troll me so much though. Because guess what?

I proceeded to get multiple dupes of Rem’s Ex and Seven’s Ex and yet I couldn’t get even a single copy of Seifer’s Ex.

Heck, it even felt like I hardly got dupes of his 15cp and 35cp. I don’t need them but it was frustrating how it seemed like all I kept getting were weapons for Seven and Rem with barely anything for Seifer.

Sometimes, I’d even get draws with 0 golds which was also really frustrating and upsetting, especially as my ticket count started dwindling.

Then, a bit later on, I got a gold orb which turned into an LD. Unfortunately, it was the wrong LD.

Yeah, that’s right. Just got a dupe of Rem’s LD as well as a dupe of Seifer’s 35cp.

Argh! How utterly frustrating. Why couldn’t that LD have been Seifer’s instead? Still had 276 tickets left when this happened. Should have stopped pulling already but couldn’t seem to help myself.

Kept pulling but all I kept getting were dupes and bronze and silver trash. Then, to my surprise, I got a 10-draw that gave me a whopping 6 golds. Too bad they were all dupes.

The third time I got an LD, it was from a gold orb and it was yet another dupe of Rem’s LD. Even got a dupe of Seven’s Ex to go with it.

Ugh! So freaking frustrating. Was down to 140 tickets when this happened. Really annoyed that I ended up spending so many tickets on this banner. If only Seifer’s Ex and LD had the decency to show up.

Really should have stopped pulling as soon as I got my first copy of Rem’s LD. She was the prize on this banner anyway.

And I’d already established that I don’t need Seifer and could get by just fine without him. Sigh. I really regret this now.

At least I was finally able to stop wasting more tickets on this banner. Really need to recover my ticket stash now.

Conclusion

So, what about you? Did you pull on the Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) banner? What do you think about Rem, Seifer, and all the other chars featured on this banner? Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions by leaving a comment below or by reblogging or replying to this post.

Notes:

screenshots are from my Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia game account

#dissidia final fantasy opera omnia #pulls for these chars:#rem tokimiya #seifer almasy #ceodore harvey #seven #final fantasy type-0 #final fantasy 4 #final fantasy 8 #gacha games #dffoo ticket pulls #dffoo #dffoo banner pulls #games

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ultraqueer · 2 years

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y’all I had such vivid dreams about batman last night i think I hallucinated a new reboot

#three distinct memories: I was very specifically his foster daughter #(at the start I think I was a love interest leaving a bank or smthn? not sure)#two there was literally just. a normal parking lot with all the batvehicles. except they were all robin-themed??#none of the robins were in the dream and this was not addressed #and three: bruce had some sort of Regenerative Machine that cloned his cells every night and could unfuck any injury #EXCEPT his right hand. which sometimes was fully there and he just didn’t have fine motor skills #and other times it was like. a fleshy lil limp wristed prosthetic #and not in the gay way like. think second harry potter floppy cgi arm. yeah #there was also a ‘there was only one bed’ situation but it was effectively the equivalent of the get-along sweater #aka Alfred just… locked us in a room. to Get Along. and that’s where the whole arm thing happened #anyways I will be taking this as a sign to dive headfirst back into my high school batman obsession #idk man it’s just Fun #my life #the batman #dc comics #batfam

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Note

Heeey! Can I request for the Father of Mine universe? Something along the lines of hickeys, maybe smeared lipstick all over their faces at an event, family dinner or something like that?

“Just skip it and stay here with me,” Jason offered as he leaned against the bathroom frame, shirtless and with his arms crossed.

He had been watching Y/N get ready for at least 15 minutes.

She was currently putting on blood red lipstick that went perfectly with her black winged eyeliner.

Jason wasn’t a big lipstick guy – mostly because it prevented him from kissing his girlfriend the way he wanted to. But he couldn’t deny that it looked incredibly sexy.

“I can’t. I promised Bruce,” Y/N explained as she looked at him through the mirror.

“There will always be other charity events,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

But he’d had enough of keeping his distance and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He started peppering kisses on her shoulders since her dress was leaving the skin completely exposed and he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” she began, “you could always come with me.”

Jason stopped his kissing.

“Guess that’s a no?” Y/N sighed with a shy grin.

But she didn’t really care.

Y/N understood that Jason hated these events. To be honest, she might hate them just as much. But Bruce kept asking her and she tried to go when she could. Sometimes she needed breaks and her father understood that.

Jason ignored her question and his hands started roaming heatedly across her body.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N warned, immediately pushing him away.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Jason laughed innocently.

“Not yet,” she spun around and pointed at him. “But you were going to!”

“And is that so bad?” He asked with a crooked smirk.

“It is when I’m running late. And the reason I’m late is because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me an hour ago.”

Jason tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t exactly hear any complaints…”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from laughing and shook her head.

No, there had definitely been absolutely no complaints from her.

“I won’t be there long,” Y/N promised.

Then she brushed past him and walked into the giant walk-in closet.

Barely even glancing at all the shoes, she grabbed a pair that matched her dress.

“Can we order pizza or something when I get back? I’ll be starving.” Y/N asked mindlessly as she slipped the shoes on, using the wall to balance herself.

Jason didn’t even realize he was staring.

But how could he not?

The dress was simple. Just a little black dress. It was a charity event after all. But it fit Y/N like a glove, hugging her in all the right places.

Her heels were at least 4 inches, putting her eye level with Jason – if not a tiny bit taller. She would be above the majority of men at the event, except for probably a small handful.

“What?” Y/N asked self consciously. “Too tall?”

“No such fucking thing,” Jason quickly answered.

Y/N usually wasn’t self conscious about her height. She kind of had to get over that back in high school when she was taller than most of the boys in her grade.

But that didn’t mean she completely stopped having slip-ups. Slip-ups that involved questioning her heels or outfit.

Thankfully, Jason was quick to remedy such situations.

“You just look so beautiful,” Jason added as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips possessively.

Y/N kissed him. “Thank you.”

But she opened her mouth to give another warning.

“You’re gonna be late,” Jason spoke for her. “I know. I know.”

Y/N tried not to laugh at her boyfriends desperation as she grabbed her clutch.

“Remember: pizza!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

————

Bruce and Damian were waiting for Y/N at the venue.

Dick and Tim skipped, going to these things less and less as they became fully grown men with lives of their own.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce greeted as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N was about to turn her attention to Damian and give him a hug.

“What the hell is on your neck!?” The boy cried out before she could.

She blinked in surprise, completely unaware of what her half brother was talking about. Self-consciously, her hand went to the sides of her neck, not sure what she should be hiding.

“Can Todd not keep his hands to himself for 30 seconds?” Damian growled.

That’s when it clicked.

Y/N had a hickey on her neck.

“Damian, lower your voice,” Bruce warned his son.

Meanwhile, Y/N started feeling hot from embarrassment.

“Father, make him stop,” Damian whined.

To her surprise, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Damian, Y/N is a grown woman in a relationship. She can do as she pleases.”

It was the right answer, but Y/N was still sweating from the embarrassment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she quickly mumbled, before disappearing to the nearest bathroom.

But Y/N swore she heard Bruce continuing to scold Damian for his rudeness and for embarrassing her.

When she reached the bathroom, she lifted her head to see that she very much did have a hickey on her neck. It was perfectly hidden in the shadow of her jaw, which was why she hadn’t noticed it while getting ready. If she had, she would’ve put 5 layers of makeup on it to make sure her family didn’t notice.

Thankfully, she brought some cover up with her and quickly started going to work.

After 10 minutes, it was invisible and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

She pulled out her cellphone, glaring at it as if were her boyfriend.

“You better start behaving. Damian and Bruce just found a hickey on my neck. I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Y/N texted to Jason.

“Who cares?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course he’d answer with that.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’d prefer not remind my father and younger brother that I do in fact have a sex life.”

“A healthy, satisfied, and passionate sex life *,” Jason corrected.

Before she could respond, he texted again with, “Did you cover it up?”

“Obviously.”

“What a shame. Maybe it would’ve kept the spoiled rich boys away from you.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jason Todd.”

“Ooo. I love it when you use the full name. Gets me all hot and bothered.”

Y/N sighed and tossed her phone back into her clutch.

She’d given up on making Jason feel any bit of sympathy. That man would never feel guilty about showing the world how obsessed he was with her.

—————

Jason was reading on the couch when Y/N returned home.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted before returning to reading his book.

“Ugh. I drank too much champagne. I have the worst headache.”

“I’ll order some pizza,” Jason offered and pulled out his phone.

Y/N sighed in relief when she took off her heels and then she collapsed on the couch, laying her head on Jason’s lap as he placed their order.

Without thinking, his free hand when to her head and started massaging it, hoping it would help with her migraine.

“Hmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed. “That feels better.”

“Order has been placed,” he confirmed.

“Thank you.”

“Arrives in 30 minutes.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing exactly where he was going with it.

“What could we possibly do with 30 minutes?” Jason teased as he inched closer to her face.

She opened her eyes and giggled up at him.

“Ya know, I heard that sex helps cure migraines…”

“Does not!” Y/N yelled out.

Before she could argue with him further, his lips shut her up real quick.

For as large as Jason was, he managed to maneuver his body very gracefully, until he was hovering above Y/N while she lay comfortably on the couch.

“You look beautiful with lipstick,” Jason said it as if it was law. “But I like it even more when I ruin it,” he added with an almost evil smirk.

It was hard for Y/N to have a clever quip when he said things like that to her.

“How about I mark you up even more?” He threatened.

“Jason…” she warned.

But they both knew Y/N was pretending to be annoyed by it – or against it. When in reality, she kind of loved how obsessed Jason was with the idea.

Just when Jason hiked Y/N's dress up and was tracing her legs, someone cleared their throat.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and actually growled. Then he quickly lowered Y/N’s dress and tried to make her modest again.

Y/N covered her face and groaned. “Please, please, please tell me Bruce is not standing at the window right now.”

Jason smirked. “And Damian.”

Y/N pushed her boyfriend off of her and sat up to face them.

There stood Batman and Robin.

Tonight was just not her night.

“You have lipstick smeared all over you,” Damian pointed out to Jason smugly.

“I’d say one day you’d see the appeal, but I’m struggling to imagine anyone ever having that kind of interest in you,” Jason shot back.

“Jason!” Y/N scolded in a yell.

Then she quickly turned to Damian with a sympathetic look, “Dami, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jason corrected. “What do you guys want?”

“Red Robin is missing,” Bruce stated darkly.

“So…go find him,” Jason replied.

“We need your help,” Bruce clarified.

Jason groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. But we’re setting some fucking ground rules from now on. I’m sick of you guys invading our personal space. We have a door for a reason. Use it.”

Bruce just nodded.

Then he looked down at Damian and with a glare, got him to nod, too.

“I gotta change,” Jason told them, annoyance clear in his voice.

Y/N followed him into their bedroom, to give them a moment of privacy.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“They spent all night with you and now they have the balls to interrupt?” Jason shot back. “And I want my damn pizza.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I promise I’ll save you some.”

Jason was in his full gear now, Red Hood helmet tucked under his arm.

He took in a deep breath, tension easing off of him as he saw how cute she was looking up from the bed at him. Her lipstick was half off her lips, but she still looked beautiful.

“Promise you’ll be careful,” her tone was nothing but serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason dismissed as he leaned down at kissed her.

"And be nice to Damian."

"Never."

Jason went back to the living room where Bruce and Damian waited.

“You might want to rub some of that off,” Bruce mumbled as he turned and jumped on the window.

Jason glared at Batman’s back as he reluctantly rubbed Y/N’s lipstick off his mouth with his gloved hand.

Then he looked at Damian. “Say another word about it and I'll skin you alive.”

Damian gave him a dirty look, “I’m not scared of you.”

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