#have to dangle scenes above my head like 'you want this? you want this? come on Think about it do you want this?'

[orcelito]

Don't understand ppl who can be in a zine. Like more power to u guys but I can't imagine my brain Ever accepting me trying to force it to write a specific thing. It rarely wants to write even what it wants to write. I have to trick it with treats and praise. Trying to do a guided writing??? No fuckin way lmfao

#speculation nation #i cant force my brain to do what it doesnt want to. that's just how it goes #and i rarely plan anything out concretely bc then it would be stifling and my brain doesnt like that #i have my miasma of Ideas that float in my head and i lay general guidelines down like train tracks #and then fill everything in as i go. one board at a time. #have to dangle scenes above my head like 'you want this? you want this? come on Think about it do you want this?' #and my brain has to be like 'hmmm yes i think i do want it' and then i lie in bed for 2 hours and suddenly i have a scene written #OR it's a scene my brain hates and doesnt want to do but it is important for the plot so i force it out across days or even weeks #where am i going with this. im just rambling. #anyways anytime i see zines mentioned theres a brief thought of like 'what if i contributed' #but then i remember my 8k word first chapter of a multichapter fic that has not been updated in over a year #in favor of writing my 444k words and counting beast of a fic (aka what i ALWAYS end up going back to bc i love the attention #and also it's my Baby. big baby. giant baby. it has infected my brain) #yea. i would not be able to dependably work on a zine lmfao

[saylorsaysstop]

REPUTATION ERA | Bat Boys

What song/lyrics describe your relationship with a Bat Boy?

↪ Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! ⭐️

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤 | KING OF MY HEART

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury."

When Bruce Wayne saw you, he was starstruck. Women had enticed him throughout his years as Gotham's most eligible bachelor but none of those women made him come to a dead stop in the middle of a crowded room and lose his breath. But you did.

The moment his hand brushed yours in greeting, his heart somersaulted in his chest. This feeling, this emotion - it was foreign to him. Alfred had never seen Master Wayne speechless. As he strives to protect Gotham, Bruce does the same with your heart.

You were royalty in his eyes. The way you commanded a room with the simple wave of a hand, how you impressed anyone who crossed your path. It was an immediate decision Bruce made in his head that he couldn't survive another night without you being his.

He was the king of secrets considering his masked identity, but Bruce never felt the urge to keep his love for you a secret. He wanted to lock the two of you behind closed doors, not because he was embarrassed or ashamed, but because he was terrified of another man sweeping you off your feet. Bruce Wayne. Scared to lose a woman. Who would've thought?

No fancy car or gadget could ever compare to the soft luxury of your lips on his. Bruce loved to say that you were a drug and he was an addict, never wanting to go to rehab to get you out of his system.

What's Gotham going to think when he finally gets engaged to you?

DICK GRAYSON 💙 | DRESS

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try And if I get burned, at least we were electrified I'm spilling wine in the bathtub You kiss my face and we're both drunk Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about,"

The love between you and Dick is like touching a live wire. It electrified and every spark between you is brighter than the rest. He started as your best friend and quickly turned into more- so much more. Nights where you raided Bruce's alcohol stash after Wayne Manor parties, both of you drunk and making out like teenagers with your hands all over each other.

The confessions of love spoken in private between each other. The line of your friendship was easily blurred the moment Dick made it known that he had such strong feelings for you. The first time his lips brushed yours, you were nearly swept off your feet at the erupting butterflies in your belly.

Dick became a lifeline. He made you feel beautiful. Everyone thought they knew the story between you and Dick, but needless to say, no one knew the truth. You and Dick have a love that people desire for themselves.

JASON TODD ❤️ | CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

"'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to,"

Jason getting close to someone after everything he endured hadn't been easy. But when his heart leaped ahead ten paces before his mind could and he found himself entangled with you, he knew he belonged nowhere else except in the comfort of your arms. Jason stole your breath the moment you laid eyes on him. With his honed physique and dark hair, you were a sucker for whatever he had in store for you.

You loved Jason more than the world. He claimed to never own you, although he found it undeniably attractive to know you wear a chain around your neck with a little J dangling from it. You loved the idea of him being yours and you would gladly sport your love in public for the man.

Jason wasn't quick to add a label to what you two were doing, afraid that he'd jump too far ahead. He had been let down so many times in his life that he wasn't willing to sacrifice his heart for a woman... But when you laid in his arms and told him you wanted him for good, Jason's anxiety was immediatley lifted, and Red Hood's heart cracked to let line and golden warmth whoosh through it.

He vowed to make every day spent with him better than the last, even if some nights he came home in defeat. He knew that when he got to hold you in his arms, everything he worked so hard to fight for would be worth it.

TIM DRAKE ☕️ | DELICATE

"Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share."

What Tim didn't admit to his brothers and Bruce first was the nature of his relationship with you. Tim had always been the cautious one, the one who thought of everything from beginning to finish. So when he stumbled across you and wound up in bed with you that night for a string of hookups that quickly became more, Tim knew he was in it with you for the long run.

Your little apartment thirty minutes away from Wayne Manor was easy to access for Tim to sneak to after patrol. You gave him a spare key and the moment you'd hear his footsteps on your staircase, your adrenaline would skyrocket, your skin would grow hot, and before you knew what was happening, Tim's hands would be running through your hair and claiming your mouth in the dirtiest of ways.

Your entire relationship with him from the first spark to the inferno that rages between you two had been nothing short of delicate. You didn't have such a good reputation in Gotham City, especially as the daughter of a crimelord Batman was in the throes of stopping, but Tim couldn't care less because you were good.

The thought of sharing Tim with anyone else infuriated you. With such a delicate relationship blooming between the two of you, you swore with everything in you that you'd treat Tim with the utmost loyalty and respect, two values he had no issue giving in return.

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #red robin fluff #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

[bun-lapin]

Confessions

Summary: Floyd confesses his love to you.

A/N: Fourth one shot! This one is a bit on the short side as it was a pretty busy week for me. But I feel like I'm hitting a good stride with this series! Hopefully I don't run out of idea though lol lots of characters still to get through~

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia, Floyd, Vil, Silver, Leona, Trey / AO3

Standing under an ancient apple tree, you listen to the peaceful sounds of wind rustling through green leaves and birds chirping on a high branch. On the other side of the courtyard, you hear a handful of students having quiet, friendly conversations among themselves. You lean back against the gnarled bark of the tree with a sigh and let your eyes wander across the scene in front of you. You visually trace a path across the lush grass lawn, over a few wooden benches, down the paved pathway, and continue up the stone columns supporting the roof of the exterior corridor. Your gaze finally stops there on the corridor roof where Floyd sits, legs dangling over the side and lazily smiling down at you.

"Easy enough, right? Now come up here and join me!" Floyd calls down to you with a slight waggle of his fingers.

You walk over to stand on the pathway under Floyd’s perch and call up to him, “That was a very impressive parkour demonstration but”-you consider the considerable height from the ground to the roof and shake your head with a grimace- “there’s absolutely no way I’m going up there.”

Floyd gives you an exaggerated pout and whines, “Aww, that’s no fun shrimpy!” He reaches into his back pocket with a smirk on his face and holds up a small familiar looking object. “I guess that means you don't want your wallet back then."

You give all of your pockets a quick pat down before letting out a long frustrated sigh. That is indeed your wallet up there in Floyd’s hands. With your hands in your pockets you look over the lanky and relaxed figure sitting high above, and you briefly weigh your options. Your hands close around a small peppermint candy you had grabbed from the Mystery Shop earlier and an idea flashes in your mind.

“Floyd, I’m not going up there so why don’t you just DROP IT?!” you yell out the last few words as you pitch the small candy as hard as you can at the hand holding your wallet.

"Whoa Shrimpy!” Floyd nimbly dodges the thrown confectionery and looks down at you in disbelief. “Did you just throw something at me?!"

You look up at Floyd’s face, his eyes wide and his playful smile gone without a trace. For a few tense seconds, you stare at each other and you begin to wonder if you should make a run for it.

Floyd’s face suddenly breaks out into a wide, sharp grin and he throws his head back in a fit of high pitched laughter. He looks down at you, eyes sparkling with laughter and exclaims, “That's too hilarious! You're pretty bold, shrimpy! I guess that's why I like you." He smiles in an appreciative and relaxed way at you.

You cross your arms over your chest, regretting the failure of your candy plan, and reply in a dry, sarcastic voice, “Yup, that’s me. Just a regular old charmer. You’re so lucky to be my friend.”

Floyd’s smile drops instantly and is replaced by a small frown. "You're not hearing me right, shrimpy.” He stands up and places your wallet back into his pocket. “I said I like you."

You raise your eyebrows questioningly at him and reply, “Yeah that’s basically what I said, right?”

Floyd looks down at you in silence for a few seconds, an unreadable expression on his face. He then takes a step off the corridor roof and lands as effortlessly as if he had just stepped off of the ground. You watch him casually walk over to you with rising curiosity and when he finally stops to stand in front of you with arms crossed over his chest, you tilt your head inquisitively at him.

After staring at you thoughtfully for a moment, Floyd smiles in a secretive way. His mismatched eyes twinkle playfully and crinkle at the corners, as if he knows something hilarious that you don’t. Reaching out towards you, he gently takes both of your hands in his and breezily says, “Let me phrase this in a way that makes it crystal clear for you.”

Floyd begins to slowly walk a circle around you and, with your hands still firmly held in his, you find yourself turning in a circle as well while still facing him. It’s almost as if the two of you are dancing some sort of very slow and lazy kind of waltz. You laugh softly at the thought and Floyd mirrors your laugh with one of his own. He leans a little closer to you and his voice is quiet yet excited, like he’s telling a funny story during class.

"I never know what I'm going to get with you. You're wild, unpredictable, and perfect. To me, you're like endless fireworks falling over the sea. One minute, hot sparks of gold and red. The next minute, cool sea foam floating on the water. Never the same way twice but more wonderful every time after."

He stops walking and, still holding on to you, Floyd looks you over in silence. His expression is one of pure appreciation and marvel. The way he looks it’s as if he’s found sunken treasure and you feel a pleasant tingling in your cheeks, swept up by Floyd’s infectious excitement. Studying his face, you think that it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

Leaning in closer still, Floyd places his lips close to your ear and whispers with an airy laugh, "A guy could really get hooked on someone like you."

He leans back and smirks when he sees your wide eyes and slightly flushed face. Giving your hands a quick and gentle squeeze, he finally lets go and reaches into his back pocket. He hands your wallet over to you and simply says, "Take a look inside."

With Floyd’s words and cryptic actions swirling and tumbling through your mind, you almost feel like bursting from curiosity and excitement. You open your wallet and in the main pocket you find a small folded piece of paper. Upon unfolding it, you see a message written in a familiar hand. Written in red ink are the words “I love you” with a tiny heart drawn in the corner of the paper.

You suddenly feel a large hand gently land on your shoulder and you look up from the message in your hands to find Floyd’s face right in front of yours. You softly gasp from surprise but with his hand on your shoulder you can’t step back. His face is so close you can almost count his eyelashes and you find yourself tracing the sloping lines of his eyes with your gaze. Looking at his odd colored eyes, one bright and one dark, you feel as if you’re simultaneously looking at the morning and evening sky. It’s a confusing yet exhilarating kind of feeling.

Floyd laughs softly and flashes you an easygoing grin. “So what do you think, Shrimpy? Did I surprise you?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst imagines #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd x reader #gn!reader #fluff and romance #bun-lapin écrit

[callofdudes]

Call of Duty's How to Train Your Dragon pt1.

A/n: Is this finally being created after @itsscromp finally got my brain worms wiggling again? Yes. Is this also a get better fic? Yes. Is it an entire script for a move? Also yes.

Yes, it's also just shy of 20K words so... This half of the post is only about 12K. If you like httyd/cod crossovers you've come to the right place. But if you want to give it a chance and have a shit ton of free time. I'd also be honored.

Hiccup: Y/n. Astrid: Ghost. Fishlegs: Gaz. Ruff/Tuff: Soap. Snotlout: Graves.

I will reblog with the second half of the fic. Cred for the divider used goes to @straywords

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

The only problems are the pests. Even if they carry away all our food… You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…

Y/n opens the door of the large house structure, watching Vikings go running by, a monstrous nightmare stalking across the ground, talons digging into the stone. It turned it's gaze on the door, letting out a stream of fire from its gut. 

Y/n quickly slams the door shut as fire flicked up between the cracks and fades into dark smoke.

-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. 

Y/n rushed outside, smoke billowing into the clouds from the fire torching into the wooden buildings.

My name's Y/n. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Y/n falls back against the ground with an earth quaking tremor as another dragon flies into the area. Several Vikings greeting them. You. This is you. Flabby skin tight arms wrapped around thin layers of barely noticeable muscle.

Clothes seeming too big and too small, hands as soft as a newborn despite the experience in the forge. The only place you ever seem to be helpful no doubt. 

What a life a Viking like you lives. You're bloody useless! Even a newborn baby could wield an axe better than you could.

You rush up one of the paths along the hills of Berk, multiple Vikings looking at your sorry figure and asking why you were out during a dragon attack. You only ever caused trouble. When you weren't being useless you were being an expensive clumsy step.

“What are you doing here!?” One Viking says before you rush past.

“What are you doin’ out??” Another.

“Get back inside!!”

You're grabbed up swiftly by the collar of your shirt, your stubby feet dangling above the ground. A dragon's fiery breath drawing a line in the road, barely were you saved from its wrath.

“Y/n?! What are they doing out again-?!” He looked at you, baffled. “What are you doing out?! Get inside!”

That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. 

You watch as the large burly man grabs a cart along the road, swinging it and throwing it violently at a deadly Nadder in the sky. The dragon struggled and went down as it burst into splinters.

 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

While the others rush to the scene to take the dragons on, you cower and rush into the smithing shop nestled near the middle of the town road. The only place not burnt down by now.

Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.

“Oh, nice of you to join the party, I thought you'd been carried off!”

You turned briefly to another large man, his appendages having some work done, what with missing both an arm and a leg. Always wondered what kept him alive… it clearly wasn't his limbs.

“What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all…” Your lack of any muscle is incredibly. Being born into the generation you were, how you managed to stay the same length and width of a stick was quite the sight. “...this.”

You moved a rather large weapon and opened the smithing window, a Viking immediately grabbing a weapon from the desk before you could take them back to the smelter.

He hums. “Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” 

You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.

The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.

You look out the smithing window as Stoick tackles another dragon. A dragon landing on another roof and blowing fire into the scorching wood. It crumbling beneath its talons.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

“FIRE!!” A Viking shouted, followed by four teen rushing out with buckets of water.

Oh, and that's Gaz, Graves, Soap, and... Ghost. Oh, their job is so much cooler.

You watch the group walk from a fiery explosion as Vikings pass by, led by the snappiest rackater of them all. 

Ghost may have been a hard head who bullied your entire existence in a subtle way that made you feel like you were the problem, but that didn't matter. 

Graves was a real hard ass. Always following said lead teen around like he was gonna get a chance for even a morcel. Considering no respecting person in the village would take that…

There was Soap. They say he had a twin, but, had. Considering no one knows what happened or where said twin ended up. Easiest to say Odin didn't want them to live the hardships.

Or they got eaten by a dragon. 

Gaz, well, no one really knew what his problem was. He was a tad odd, but damn smart, and somehow more popular than you, skellington.

You lean out the smithing window, a hooked hand pulling you back in. “Oh come on! Please, let me out! I need to make my mark!”

“Oh you've made marks all right, in all the wrong places!”

“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get noticed!”

“You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!” Gobber lifts a bola to express his exasperation, only for it to be pulled from his hook and thrown at a dragon, taking it down.

“Okay, fine, but this will throw it for me!” You smiled excitedly rushing back into the shop, showing off your cool canon mechanism.

“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!” Gobber sighed, exasperated. Watching you fiddle with your contraption.

“Mild calibration issue-” You fiddled with some levers and the string on the draw.

“Don't you- no- Y/n. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.” He gestured vaguely to you, looking you up and down.

“But you just pointed to all of me?”

“Yes, exactly! Stop being you.” Gobber smiled, thinking you were getting it. Poking you in the chest.

“Oooh…”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Viking-ness... contained? THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.” You pointed your finger up, brow turning down angrily.

Gobber looked bored at you. “I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now.” He dumped the sword into your frail hands, leaving you to your devices.

One day, I'll get out there. Because, killing a dragon, is everything around here.

You can look out the smithing window while you put the sword on the grindstone, sparks flying from the blade as you contemplate your options of execution.

A Nadder head is sure to get you at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get you the spot light. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.

And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

You watched from the window as one crawled up the wall of the tower and onto a catapult, lighting itself up and scaring off the Viking manning the device.

Stoick slamming his hammer into its face to ward it off from the top of the tower.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-

There's a high pitched whistle across the sky. Vikings retreating desperately as they call out.

“NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!” The Vikings rush to get down. From nowhere a catapult is torn apart with a plasma blast.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself, and... never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why you're going to be the first.

“Man the fort, Y/n. They need me out there!” He attaches an ax piece to his hand, rushing to the door.

“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” Gobber runs off, leaving you in the shop. You tore off your apron and ran back to your catapult set up. Steering it out the doors and running up the hill along the catapults. 

Vikings yelling at you to get back and go inside. You can't be trusted outside when the island is in chaos. They can't trust you not to make chaos.

“Y/n!” One yelled.

“I know! I'll be right back!” You led your catapult on wheels up the old path, Stoick pinning down a group of Nadders. 

The others fought while you reached the edge of the cliff. Looking out at the darkness, a surprisingly peaceful corner of the island away from the chaos feet away.

You opened the catapult and set it up, the small aiming needle and the leader strap that held in the bola aiming around. You looked at the night sky, out at all the stars.

“Come on… Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.”

You watched the sky. Hearing the low cry of the dragon. Seeing the dark figure blacking out the stars, the only possible way you could see the creature that blended so easily into the night.

Attempting to track the shadow with the scope of your catapult.

You heard the dragon make its move, dive bombing from the sky and shooting a plasma blast into a nearby fire, knocking the tower down. As it cleared the explosion you clenched your eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

The catapult blasted you back on your butt, hearing the cry as the creature went down. 

You hit it. For once in your miniscule life you hit it!! A dragon!! A night fury!!

“I hit it!! Yes! Did anybody see that??” You turned around, a monstrous nightmare creeping up on you, its narrowed face making it look like a devilish thing.

“Except… for you.” 

It growled at you and you screamed, attracting the attention of Stoick. He sighed in exasperation, pulling away from the tied down Nadder heads. “DO NOT let them escape!” He commanded some others as he rushed to your aid.

You ran and stumbled from the dragon that stalked after you, firing at you. Hiding behind a pillar as your heart pounded in your chest.

You just killed a dragon and now you're dead. You're a goner. Oh you should have stayed inside.

It blasted a fiery blaze against the pillar, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut. Slowly forcing one open and inching around the corner. 

The dragon growled as its head turned, coming around from behind you. Before it could fire, Stoick slammed his fist into its face, getting the attention onto him.

It belched out the last of its flame, looking weakly down at the splatter and up at Stoick.

“You're all out of juice.” He clenched his fists and punched the monstrous nightmare, bullying it until it retreated desperately back into the night.

You tensed up, feeling the burning hot metal of the pillar crunch and crumble. The wooden pole leaning and the flaming bowl of coals on top spilled as it toppled. Falling to the side and crashing into a fire gust of ashes into a small pool of water.

Vikings gathered around you as you timidly looked up at Stoick.

Oh, and there's one other thing you should know…

A woman cried and gasped, the coals flickering and landing across the ground and the dirt. Your shoulders tensing and rising with each noise. Slowly turning to Stoick who did not look happy.

“Sorry… dad..”

You and the others all watched as the dragons flew by, the sound of the sheep they'd captured from the island sounding off as they left. 

Slowly pursing your lips you turned to your father. “Ok but I hit a night fury-”

Stoick grabbed you by the back of your collar, dragging you off effortlessly.

“Ah! It's not like the last few times, dad! I really actually hit it.”

“You guys weren't around. I was alone when I hit it. I had a clear shot.” 

Gobber watched regretfully as you were dragged. “It fell just off Ravens point I say let's get a search party out there-”

“Stop!” Stoick interrupted you, making you purse your lips again silently as he now stood you in front of him. “Just stop.”

“Every time you get out, trouble follows. Can't you see I have bigger problems?? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed.”

An awkward pause before you speak. “Well between you and me the village could use a little less of that? No?”

A Viking behind you silently disagrees as he rubs his round stomach. No, no, the village can stay well fed. They like it.

“This is not a joke! Y/n!” Stoick sighs. “Why can't you just follow the simplest of orders??”

You bounce on your feet. “I-I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it.” You twist your hands, looking up at him. 

Yeah, right. Like you could ever kill a dragon. 

“It's who I am, dad.” You say, sighing. You're full of crap.

Stoick rubs his face. “Ey… you are many things y/n, but a dragon killer? Is not one of them… get back to the house.”

He looks up at Gobber, motioning him. “Make sure they get there.”

Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 

“I have their mess to clean up…” Stoick walks past as Gobber leads you sulking home.

To make things worse you passed the other teens, Soap snickering with Gaz. “Quite the performance.” Gaz commented.

“Wow, I've never seen someone mess up that badly.” Graves leaned in your face. “That helped.”

You sulked by, noticing Ghost admiring his axe in the background, leaned up against the stone ledge.

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”

As you pass Gober grips Graves helmet and shoves him back, making him choke. “Ow-!”

You two walk back to the house, your annoyance stewing. “I really did hit one.”

“Sure you did.”

“He never listens.”

“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.

“And when he does it's always with this disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”

You turn just before the door, making a mock impression of your father, raising your eyebrows in anger. “Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring.” 

You raise your arms in annoyance, doing wild gestures. “I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!”

“Now, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand.” Gobber offers you a smile, to which your expression drops.

You sigh flatly. “Thank you for summing that up.”

“Look, I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to be what you're not.” Gobber says as you open the door to the house.

“I just.. wanna be one of you guys..” You say, closing the door behind you. 

Gobber sighs sadly, starting to leave, giving you space.

All the space you needed to sneak out of the back of the house. Immediately rushing down the back of the hill the house was set on…

“Either we finish them, or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in.” 

Stoick looks around the Meade hall, slamming his knife into a map on the table, seeing all the hesitation. 

“Those ships never come back!” One Viking calls out from the end of the long table.

“We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now who's coming with me?”

“Today's not good for me. I've gotta do my axe returns.” One mumbles.

Stoick leans back from the table. “Alright. Those who stay behind can look after y/n.”

Immediately every hand at the table went up. And Stoick nodded. “That’s more like it.”

Gobber sat at the table, finishing off a tankard of drink. “Alright, I'll pack my undies.”

Stoick came over to him, sitting next to him at the table. “No, I need you to stay here and train some new recruits.”

Gobber mulls over his cup, before replying sarcastically. “Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Y/n can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to themself... what could possibly go wrong?”

Stoick sighed, slouching slightly. “What am I going to do with them, Gobber?”

“Put them in training like the others.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

They look at each other, Stoick leaning his arm on the table. “They'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!”

“You don't know that.” Gobber goes back to his drink.

“I do, actually.”

“No, you don't.” Gobber points a finger at him.

“Listen, you know what their like.” He got up from the table. “From the time they could crawl, they've been… different.”

He walked around the table by the fire against the wall.

“They don't listen,” Gobber chokes on his drink as he listens. “They have the attention span of a sparrow.” Stoick goes on.

Gobber looks into his drink for his missing tooth which he previously choked on.

Stoick is still on. “I take them fishing and they go hunting for- for trolls!”

“Trolls are real!” Gobber points his drink arm at Stoick. “They steal your socks. But only the left ones… what's with that??”

Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”

“Oh here we go.” 

“My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him.” 

Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”

“You got a headache.”

“That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could- He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!” He gestures loud. “Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.” 

Stoick goes and sits at the table again, slouching. “Y/n is not that kid.”

“You can't stop them, Stoick. You can only prepare them. Look, I know it seems hopeless.” Gobber gestures his drink arm.

“But the truth is you won't always be around to protect them. Their going to get out there again. Their probably out there now.”

And he was right. Out the forest at Ravens point, he exasperatedly crossed another X in your book. You'd been searching everywhere for this damn dragon, eventually giving up.

“Oh the gods hate me…” you snapped the book shut. “Some people lose their knife or their mug, not me.”

You scuff your feet. “I manage to lose an entire dragon.” You walk down the path, angrily slapping a tree branch that comes right back at you.

Turning your attention to the part of the part that is disturbed. A large dirt train plowed through the land. 

You frown, following it up to a small hill. As you climb it, your eyes land sight of the dragon. You gasp, your heart racing as you immediately duck down. 

Your eyes go wide as you hide behind the mound, panting. What do you do?? What do you do??

You sat up, immediately searching for your knife. Grabbing it out shakily and holding it like your life depended on it.

You slid down the hill, hiding behind a large rock before poking out. Seeing the dragon tied up and caught in the net you'd flung it into. 

You disastrous human. How could you? How could you do this?

You smiled though, shocked, in pure shock. “Oh wow, this- this fixes everything!” You walked over, putting your foot on its shoulder. “I have brought down this mighty beast-”

The dragon bellows in pain, shrugging its shoulder to push you off, making you jump and scramble back.

You shake and pant as you hold your knife out in front of you, walking closer. You can see the dragon's blue green eyes on you, staring at you.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!” You hold the knife down, pointed at the beast.

The night fury breathes heavily, clearly scared as it stares at you with a sharp gaze, awaiting its horrific fate.

You raise the knife above your head, steeling yourself for the moment, peeling an eye open to look down at the dragon. It still stared at you, helpless, and scared.

You readjust the knife, taking a deep breath. The dragon moans, laying its head down and closing its eyes. Scared, but knowing it's fate. 

And that breaks you. It's the last noise of distress going unheeded to any cruel human that would have found him. 

You attempted to shoo the thought and claim its life, but instead.. you couldn't. You groaned, slumping the knife handle to the top of your head. 

You slumped, rubbing the side of your face and looking at the knife, then the dragon. No, no you couldn't do this. 

“I did this…” You slowly back up, returning to leave, but looking back at those ropes. 

You went back, and you started to cut. The dragon’s eyes shot open in an instant, looking over as you sawed the blade through the ropes and pulled it free. 

As soon as the last rope that freed its legs was off, it jumped at you, growling in your face as it pushed you to the ground.

Your head hit the edge of the rock as its claw kept your chest pinned. You gasped for air, looking up at the dragon, into its sharp eyes. 

The dragon growled down at you as you leaned your face away, your heart pounding. The dragon leaned his arm off your chest, slamming you down and roaring in your face. 

It turned and dashed, flying off, taking off lopsided and flying into a tree. It wailed when it hit the ground and then tried to take off again, wailing in pain as it flew into the fog.

You slowly reached for your knife, clutching your heart as your eyes remained blown wide. 

You tried to stand, your knees shaking like a deer and weak. You felt wheezy and like you would vomit at any moment. Not making it far before hitting the ground with a thud and falling unconscious.

It was late by the time you came home, walking into the house to see your father, Stoick stoking the fire, waiting for you.

You slowly closed the door, seeing him and attempting to rush by and head upstairs. Going full hands and knees rushed, but it was futile. 

“Y/n.”

“Dad, uh…” You swallowed awkwardly, your thoughts immediately rushing back to earlier that day and the shit you'd probably get into if he knew you let a night fury free…

“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”

Stoick stood, coming over. “I have to talk to you too, y/n.”

Both of you took deep breaths.

“I've decided I don't want-”

“I've decided it's time you learn-”

“To fight dragons. What??”

Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”

“No, no you go first.” You started to sweat a little, gripping the stairs, feeling your collar getting tight.

“All right.” Stoick sighs, massaging his knuckles. “You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.”

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” You panicked a lot, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, looking away.

“Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?”

Stoick leaned over, picking up an axe. “You'll need this.” He hands it to you, making you huff with the weight on your incredibly toothpick durability, q-tip quality arms.

“Gah-” you panicked, looking at him worriedly. “Dad, I don't want to kill dragons.” You protested. 

Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”

“Rephrase… Dad, I can't kill dragons.” you held the axe, your legs weak and your stomach churning sickeningly with the thought of being ignored in this.

“But you will kill dragons.”

Your worry grows, gripping the axe. “No, I'm very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time Y/n.”

“Can you not hear me!?” You ask desperately and exasperated.

“This is serious, y/n.”

He gestured. “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you.” Stoick picks the axe up from your arms and adjusts it. 

“Which means you walk like us.” He bunches your shoulders together and fixes your slouch. “You talk like us. You think like us. No more of…. This.” He gestured vaguely to you. 

“You just gestured to all of me.” You pouted.

“Deal??” Stoick asked, making your heart sink at once again being completely ignored.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.

“Deal…”

“Good.” He nods to you, not even touching you. He picked up his sack for the voyage and his Viking hat. 

“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here… maybe.”

“Welcome to dragon training.” Gobber says as you all enter the ring. A large stone pit tug into the groups full of armory and cages with chain domed across the top.

Ghost leads the group of teens into the ring, holding his axe firmly in his hand. He looks around, parts of his slightly long blonde hair hanging in front of his sharp brown eyes.

Such a warm color, such a cold stare. “No turning back.” He said to mostly himself, the others checking out the place.

Oh and there's you in the back. Toothpick. 

“I hope I get some serious burns.” Graves says.

“Yeah, I'm hoping for some maulings. Like on my shoulder or my lower back.” Soap commented with a grin.

Ghost spoke up, tilting his head. “Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.” He already had a few. From dragon fights? No. But scars nonetheless. He wanted a scar from the dragon's he killed. 

Even if he would have to force the mark. 

You mumbled sarcastically from the background. “Oh yeah… pain, great.. love it..”

They all look back, simultaneously looking at you with disgust, while Ghost just scrunched his nose. “Oh great, who let you in??” Graves complains.

“Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.” Gobber said, motioning you all into the middle of the rock pit. Closer to your doom.

“Well, Y/n already killed a Night Fury, so, does that disqualify him or…?” Graves smirked at you antagonistically.

“Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?” Soap added on to the taunt as they walked away without you.

Gobber got closer to you, smiling softly. “Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target! They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.”

With that Gobber explained the essence of dragon training. Behind each of the doors is a dragon. The training sessions will focus on an aspect of fighting. The person last standing against the dragon is to be the winner of the round.

Whoever wins in the end?? You get a brag tag for a good chunk of years.

Gobber went on. “Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight! The Deadly Nadder!” 

“Speed: eight; Armor: sixteen.” Gaz finally spoke up.

“The Hideous Zippleback!”

“Plus eleven stealth times two.”

“The Monstrous Nightmare!”

“Firepower: fifteen.”

“The Terrible Terror!” 

“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”

“CAN YOU STOP THAT?! And... the Gronckle!” Gobber snapped, getting to the last door. He hooked his interchangeable arm to the latch. 

“Woah, hang on- aren't you going to teach us first??” Graves asked in disbelief.

Gobber shrugged. “I believe in learning on the job.”

He pulled the door open and released the Gronckle. The others tensed up and watched the thing as it flew toward them, eyeing them all like snacks.

It swallowed some of the rocks set out and blasted it's fiery molten liquid at you four.

“Today is about survival. If you get blasted... you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?”

“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.

“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.

Ghost eyed the dragon, then around the ring. “A shield!” 

“Shields! Go!” Gobber instructed, Ghost being the first to turn and run for one. 

“Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!” 

You rushed to grab one, picking it up and heaving up the heavy thing. You attempted to find the arm strap, searching rapidly before Gobber came over. 

Exasperation filled as he lifted it up and shoved it gently into your chest.

Graves grabbed a shield with skulls on it, Soap frowning. “Hey!” The only shield left being one with flowers.

“Take that one, that one has flowers.” Graves teased, pouting his lip at Soap. 

“But- ah!” Soap was thrown to the ground when the Gronckle’s tail hit him in the side.

“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.

“What…??”

“Shields are good for another thing. Making lots of noise. Throw the dragon's aim off!”

You, Ghost, Graves, and Gaz all start banging your shields, the Gronckle's eyes crossing and trying to shake the disorientation off.

“All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?” Gobber asks.

You all circle around the dragon, it's eyes trying to focus on anything. You rush back to a corner, hiding back behind one of the armor walls, holding your shield in the crack. 

Pussy.

“Uh, five??” Graves replies while he rushes away.

“No, six!” Gaz counters. 

“That's correct. Six. One for each of you.”

The Gronckle gets its surroundings back and blasts molten at Gaz’s shield, making him cry with surprise.

“Gaz, you're out!”

Gaz gulps and yells as he runs for safely of the out zone. 

Gobber notices you. “Y/n! Get in there!!”

You attempt to move away from your wall only to get a blast thrown at you. Fearing you scuffling back away, Gobber ones over and pushes you into the ring again.

Ghost faced the Gronckle as it came around again, ready to take it down, distributing his weight well. 

Graves came right up behind him, rolling his shoulders. “So, anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out.”

Ghost rolls his eyes and starts to move, Graves looking surprised. “You look like you work out!”

The Gronckle fires it's shot for Ghost at Graves, hitting his shield. “Graves! You're done!”

Ghost rolled over next to you, both of you the only two left. You looked nervously over at him. He's so cool. Just a tad taller than you. Lanky but you can see he has muscle definition on his arms. 

He's just.. ah! A real Viking. That's what your dad wants you to be.

“I uh.. guess it's just you and me now huh?” You ask him nervously.

He glowers before lifting his head. “Nope, just you.” He dashes out of the way, the Gronckle fires. 

“Gah!!” You raise your shield to take the blow meant for Ghost. The shield knocks from your hand, barely missing you. 

Without shield and one shot left you run back for your shield, the Gronckle hot on your track. The shield rolls away from you across the ground, looking back and you panic seeing the dragon right there.

“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.

It manages to corner you to the wall. Face right against your chest. Your heart pounds, your limbs feel cold and rigid, and on fire all at once. 

It opens its mouth and down its throat the molten glow of its last shot, before a hook pulls it away. It blasts it's shot into the wall and you cover your head, curling up.

Gobber drags the dragon back away.

“And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!” He shoves it back into the pen and closes the door.

“You'll get another chance, don't you worry.” He says to you as he walks back over, bending down. “Remember: a dragon will always- always- go for the kill.”

He grabs your arm and picks you up. You looked at the wall where the charred remains of the burn flickered down the rock incline…

Leading you back to the site of the crash, your curiosities got to you as you picked up one of the rocks on the bola. Where you'd freed the night fury from.

“So… why didn't you??” 

Why hadn't the dragon gone for the kill. You would have stabbed it, you had a weapon for crying out loud! It had every opportunity… and it didn't.

You place the bola down, standing and hopping over a log. Walking the path down to a split between two rock digs. You slipped through the small passage, which opened up. 

The tall rock face harbors trees and a small lake. It was nice… peaceful. The tall walls of rock keep it hidden and closed.

“This was stupid.” You say, moments before looking over and seeing a couple of black scales resting down the dirt incline down into the small crop.

The dragon.

You kneel down and pick one up, looking it over before hearing a roar. In an instant you jump back in fear as the Night Fury dives up over the small passage, climbing at the walls.

It's claws dig in, scrambling frantically and attempting to flap its wings and get over the edge of the rock.

You watched as it wailed and gave up, falling back and gliding awkwardly over the pond and landing on its side across on the other side.

Pant, scared but fascinated. Watched the dragon moan in sadness and pain. You hop down from the ledge, scrambling onto another rock stool and watch the night fury as it moves about.

It tries several more times to fly. Flapping its wings and hopping up but never managing to pull itself over the ledge. Crying angrily as it lands.

Your eyes widen, pulling out your sketchbook. No Night Fury had ever been recorded, you had to do this. Wow wow.

You quickly sketched up a drawing of the dragon, watching it snarl angrily. 

“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 

The dragon snarls and shoots a plasma blast at the ground.

Looking at the dragon you notice it only has one tail fin, while your drawing has two. You rub away the charcoal with your sleeve, your curiosities only growing.

The dragon tries to fly, swerving along the rock and slamming down onto the ground. It whines in pain, it's nose near the water's edge. Noticing some fish. It perks up in hope, diving its head into the water, but the fish are fast enough to escape its attempts.

It whines, still hungry.

In a moment of weakness, you feel bad for the creature. Why was this happening, why was it stuck here?? Your pencil rolled from between your fingers. 

Your eyes widened but before you could grab it it fell down the steep rock. Bouncing on the rocks and attracting the Night Fury’s attention.

You froze, and it froze. Both of you are looking at each other. It glares at you, growling low. But it looks.. curious in a way.

When you finally make your way to the Meade hall it's late. You'd spent all your time watching the night fury and becoming so fascinated that you didn't care to come back. Until now.

Walking in and seeing the other teens gathered around Gobber. Talking over strategies and what happened in the ring.

“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”

“I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble.” Ghost said with some sarcasm as he poked at his food.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.

“No no, you were great. That was so… “Ghost.”” Graves said, once again attempting to land an unflattering attempt.

“He's right, you have to be tough on yourselves.” Gobber notices you walk in soaked, coming to the table. “Where did Y/n go wrong?”

“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.

“Their didn't get eaten??” Graves said.

“Their never where they should be.” Ghost said, watching you with a nasty look as you scoot yourself over to the next table, knowing you weren't welcome around them.

Gobber walked over to you. “Thank you, Ghost.” He smacks Soap and Graves in the head. “You need to live and breathe this stuff. The dragon manual.” He holds up a book. 

Leather bound with a dragon symbol burned into the front, tied with string to keep old pages together.

He cleared a part of the table and put the book down. “Everything we know about every dragon we know of.”

Thunder crackled overhead, Gobber sighed, knowing lightning to come. “No attacks tonight. Study up for tomorrow.” 

“Wait, you mean, read??” Graves frowned, crossing his arms.

“Well maybe it would do you some good.” Gaz spoke up.

“Shut your mouth, I don't need to read nothing! Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you about??”

“Oh! I've read it like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And- And there's this other one that buries itself for like a week-”

“Yeah, that sounds great. So there's a chance I was going to read it…” Soap starts.

“But not now.” Graves says, causing Soap to glare at him a little.

Even if they all were irritable brats at the age of sixteen, they all had some kind of friendship with each other. Some kind… more than they had with you. Because you're a loser. 

Your eyes drift back over to Ghost who hadn't said a word about the book while the others bicker. Dragging his knuckles along the side of his tankard. 

You could see the scars that started just before his wrist guards hid them away. Occasional Knicks and scratches along his arms and biceps. 

Must have been from falls or accidents because he'd not properly fought a dragon or a hunter…

The others move from the table to go back home. You get up, going to the book by where Ghost sat. “So I guess we’ll… share??”

“Read it.” He pushed the book, getting up and walking off.

“Oh, uh, all mine, then. Wow. So, ok, I'll see you…” You looked up as the door shut. They were already gone…

The hall was dark with only you in it. You sat down at the table with a candle and opened the book.

Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class.

You started to read. Reading through the book, the endings of each of the entries being extremely deadly: kill on sight.

Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.

You continued to flip the pages. “Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out.”

“Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…” 

Through every page of every class. Until you got to the end.

You flipped the last page. At the top it said Night Fury. The page being otherwise almost completely empty.

“Night Fury: Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon.” 

You hesitated on the last part. “Your only chance: Hide and pray it does not find you.”

You pulled out your sketchbook, dropping the sketch of the Night Fury on the page. You had found a Night Fury. It had let you close. It .. hadn't killed you.

You stood the next day in the training ring, in the middle of a training session. Holding your shield and axe, you shifted from one foot to the other. Surrounded by a maze of tall builds all put together for the Deadly Nadder to find and kill you.

“You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?”

The Deadly Nadder jumps atop one of the lofts, firing at you, taking off the head of your axe. “Gah!”

“Focus y/n! You're not even trying!” Gobber scolds. 

“Today is all about ATTACK! Nadders are quick and light on their feet! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!” Gobber continues.

Gaz gasped, running away as the Nadder searches him out. Throwing spikes from its tail at him, sinking into the wall above his head and his shield.  “Ah!! I'm really starting to question your teaching methods!!”

Gobber, undeterred, continues. “Look for it's Blindspot. Every dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike.”

You rush by as Soap turns a corner, coming face to snout with the Nadder. He gasps, holding in a breath as it moves its head, attempting to stay in the Blindspot. 

“Steamin’ hell… this thing stinks.” He wheezes. “Do you ever bathe??” He gags, trying to cover his mouth.

The Nadder turns its head, growling and spitting fire at him. “Ah!”

“Blind spot? Yes. Deaf spot? Not so much.” Gobber grins, leaning his face against his palm as he watched from above the chain net. 

Seeing Ghost running through the intricate maze, you hanging on his tail like a mouse finding safety with the cat.

You pause, looking up at Gobber. “Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?”

“No one's ever seen one and loved to tell the tale.” He snaps his fingers. “Now get in there!!”

“Y/n.” Ghost whispers your name. You turn to see Ghost kneeled down by one of the platforms, Graves behind him, nodding to you to be quiet. You skip over, hiding against the wall.

Ghost pokes his head out, seeing the Nadder coming around. He hides again, taking a deep breath and preparing himself before rolling forward on his shield. 

He pushes off, hiding behind the next wall, Graves following and doing the same. When you attempt it, the shield does not follow your small body through the roll, trapping you against the ground.

The Nadder sees you, and runs. “Gah!” You scramble up and run. The Nadder roars and flies up on top of the walls, jumping down in front of Ghost. 

He readied himself but Graves pushed him aside. “Watch out babe, I'll take care of this.”

“Hey!” Ghost growls at him, seething at him as he throws his weapon, completely missing.

The Nadder growls, Ghost glaring at him. “The sun was in my eyes, Ghost.” The Nadder roars, Ghost making a run for it away from that meat head. 

“What do you want me to do?? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don't have time!” He dodges the attack, running after Ghost as the Nadder makes chase.

Graves continues rambling, looking back and making a swift turn down another aisle. Ghost looks back, gasping and crying as the Nadder is seconds away from him. He dashes around the corner and turns, slamming into the wall.

The Nadder follows, roaring at him as Ghost scrambles and runs, the walls starting to knock over from the collision.

You were still rambling to Gobber like an idiot. “Like so they take the daytime off?? Like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one, napping??”

Gobber looks up from his bored expression as Graves run by. 

“Y/n!” 

The walls of the maze collapse, the Nadder snapping at Ghost’s heels as he jumps up across one of the falling walls. He jumps to another wall, and you're right in his landing path.

“Y/n!!” He yells, and jumps. You scramble back, falling on the ground as he lands with a thud on top of you.

“Ooh,” Soap teases. 

Ghost glares at you, shoving your face away and attempting to stand, his axe lodged in your shield. 

“Hey, why- let me… why don't you…?” He shoves your chest down, standing up, his knee between your legs causing you to gasp in pain. 

He does not care. Grabbing his axe angrily trying to pry it away. The Nadder turns back, readying its shot for you and Ghost.

Ghost sees it and grows more panicked, grabbing his axe, his foot landing on your cheek. “Ow! Ow! Ow!!”

He attempts to pull his axe away as the Nadder comes closer.

He finally pries it from your arm and swings his axe at the Nadder’s face, your shield splintering. 

The Nadder cries in pain and turns, walking off. Ghost pants, looking off in panic as he grips his axe.

“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.

Ghost doesn't respond, the interaction having a grip on his core. Before his fear replaced with anger and he turned to you, curled up in the fetal position.

“Is this some kind of a joke to you!? Our parents' war is about to become ours!” He points his axe at you. “Figure out which side you're on.” 

Back to trying again with the Night Fury. You head down to the cove, bringing a new shield. Propping it between two rocks and tossing a fish into the open. You slide under it, crawling on your hands and knees.

Once on the other side you attempt to pry the shield out but it's stuck. You sigh, heading over to the fish and picking it up by under the fin. 

You look around, slowly walking into the open. Feeling slightly panicky, but you've had decent luck with this dragon so far. What with it not eating you the first time. 

Perhaps it was wise enough to know you weren't worth it. You'd be more of a chew toy than a hefty meal.

You walk along the pond, looking around for the night fury, aware it had eyes on you minutes earlier. It peers out from a rock as it watches you pass. It's eyes focus on you, tail swishing.

Finally it comes down from the rock, and you see it from your peripheral. You gasp, gripping the fish tight as the dragon comes down and around, sniffing the snack in your hand, growling at you.

You hold the fish out. Would it take it?? It cranes its body sideways like a cat, tilting its head and sniffing the treat. 

It's pupils softening before growling and jumping back. Your hand retreats with the fish, gasping softly. 

You pull your sweater open, your knife tucked into your clothes. When you reach for it, the dragon snarls. 

You gasp, feeling your heartbeat picking up again, slowly removing the knife and dropping it.

The dragon's ears go down, growling away, and you kick the knife away into the pond.

Afterwhich, the dragon relaxes, pupils softening again. It sits, ear flicking. It continues to hold its body arched like a cat as it comes over when you extend the fish again.

“Ah, Toothless.” You say, seeing his gummy mouth and lack of teeth. “I could have sworn you had-” His teeth suddenly snap out and he snatches the fish from your hands. 

Your eyes widen as he scarfs down the snack. “-Teeth…”

He enjoys his snack before looking back at you, lowering his head and coming over.

“Ah, ah.. uh, I don't have any more.” You stammer, backing up and tripping over your heel back against a rock.

Toothless gurgled, looking at you before starting to regurgitate his food. You tense up, cringing a little when he spits up part of the fish in your lap.

“Ugh…”

He sits back, looking at you expectantly. His eyes move from the fish, then to you when you do nothing.

You sigh, hesitantly taking a bite of the food, retching it up, putting a hand over your mouth and forcing yourself to swallow it.

Toothless perks up, you shudder and look up at him, attempting to smile after that…. Delicious cuisine.

You smile awkwardly. Toothless frowns, before attempting to smile back. His lip twitching and showing his gummy smile that he gives you. 

Your eyes widen a little. This… was not a kill on sight dragon. This wasn't something you'd slaughter for sport. 

He was smiling at you. Why, from all the dragon's you'd ever been taught about, the most deadly was smiling at you. Sharing his food…

You slowly stand, extending your hand, to which Toothless’ smile drops. He growls, and flies off, crying as he spirals against the wind, only able to drift and hit the ground a ways away. 

He huffs against the dirty, slowly getting up and shaking himself off. He walks over to a small hill, blasting a controlled amount of heat against the ground, charring it into a nice warm bed.

He looks up at a bird in its nest, chirping and flying away. And then… he sees you. How unsightly. No one wants to see that before bed.

He groans and curls up. Folding in his wings and wrapping his tail around his face to keep him well hidden and secured.

You smile, inching a little closer. You boldly reach out to touch his tail, but Toothless is one step ahead. He lifts his tail, huffing at you. 

You quickly stand, wobbling on shaky legs and awkwardly walking away from him. Toothless stares dully, getting up and moving from his spot, somewhere you surely couldn't get him.

Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.

You let him be. Sitting on a rock a couple feet away. Wasting away the time until the evening rolled around and Toothless slowly came out of his nap.

Moving his tail and looking over at you, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

He gurgled, hopping down and quietly coming over to see what you were doing.

You rested your cheek against your fist, aimlessly drawing a little figure of Toothless in the dirt.

Toothless watches curiously, purring a growl and getting up on his back legs. He waddled away. You look back when you hear the snapping of a tree branch. 

Toothless comes back with his own drawing stick, purring and trailing it around in the dirt.

You watch him in shock and surprise as toothless drags the stick around, smiling and clutching it tight in his mouth. 

He purrs as he swirls and twists around, finally finishing his creation of spirals and mapping trails between you and him.

You finally stand, looking around at what he's created. All the lines and the paths. You walk out toward one of the lines. When your foot steps on it, Toothless growls. 

It shocks you a little, looking over at him and quickly taking your foot off the line. Toothless raises his head, purring at you in response.

You put your foot on the line, and he growls.

Taking it off, Toothless purred.

You did it a couple of times before understanding. It's trust. Toothless is offering trust. You smile softly, stepping over the line, aware of where your feet when as he stepped around and over the lines. 

Finally stopping with your back to Toothless. You sink a little, feeling a warm breath fan across the nape of your neck and down your back.

You turn and look up at him. Toothless’ gaze is soft. You pant softly, reaching your hand up. Toothless pulls his head away slightly, growling a little.

You pull your hand back, looking into his eyes. So you turn away. Closing your eyes and extending your hand again. 

Toothless’ eyes soften. He looks at your palm, leaning his head forward and hesitating, before gently leaning his nose into your palm, closing his eyes.

You exhale softly in surprise, feeling it. Toothless… trusts you. This was trust.

You looked up at Toothless. His eyes narrow again. He pulled away, wriggling his nose and huffing before dashing off.

The incident didn't leave your mind. Even when you went home, you couldn't face anyone after the thought of Toothless. 

Sat atop the watch tower with Gobber and the others, roasting food over the crackling fire while he went on about a tale.

You weren't particularly listening, your gaze focused on your fingers, slowly turning the stick that was jabbed through your fish.

“...And with one twist, he took my hand, and swallowed it whole!” Gobber waved his stick, with a whole chicken on the end of it. 

“And I saw the look on his face: I was delicious. He must have passed the word, because it wasn't a month before another one of them took my leg.”

Gaz frowned in concentration, digging into his food. “Isn't it weird to think that your hand was inside a dragon?” He motioned one of the meat legs toward Ghost, who glared and shifted away.

What was that idiots problem. Ghost was close to biting his arm off.

“Like if your mind was still in control of it, you could have killed the dragon from the inside by... crushing his heart, or something.” Gaz continued, Graves staring at him from across the firepit as it grew silent.

“Right…” Graves muttered. “I swear, I'm so angry right now! I'll avenge your beautiful hand and your beautiful foot. I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight. With my face!” 

“Un-unh. It's the wings and the tails you really want. If it can't fly, it can't get away. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” Gobber said, snapping a leg off his chicken.

Your eyes slowly widen. Toothless. Toothless was down. That's the first thing you'd listened to all night. Pulled from your stupor of pointless thoughts.

Gobber yawned and got up. “Alright. I'm off to bed. You should be, too. Tomorrow we get to the big boys. Slowly but surely making our way up to the Monstrous Nightmare. But who'll win the honor of killing it?”

“It's gonna be me! It's my destiny, see??” Soap rolled up his sleeve, showing his arm.

“Woah, your mom let you get a tattoo??”

“It's not a tattoo, it's a birthmark.”

“I've known you literally since we were babies, and I've never seen that.” Graves replies. 

“Yes, it was. You've just never seen me from the left side until now.”

After hearing what Gobber had said about dragons, your interests turn to the forge. If you're going to get Toothless out of there alive you'd need to help him. 

It wouldn't be on his own…

Ghost watched you, cold gaze following as you walked away from the fire and back down the watch tower. 

You headed to the forge quickly, pulling out your sketchbook and laying it out on the table. Alright, now for something that could help Toothless. Time to get to work.

You worked long into the night. Heating the forge and putting together a device that you knew would help. You worked until your eyes were heavy and the sunrise poked over the edge of the water.

Finally putting out the flames and grabbing what you could, you headed back to the house. Stumbling inside and slumping into your hard bed for just an ounce of sleep.

After a bit of rest and recuperating you headed out a few hours later, ready to help Toothless. Your plan was foolproof. And you brought along a giant basket of fish just for it.

When you got back to the cove, Toothless was waiting for you. “Hey Toothless, I brought you some fish.” You set down the basket and kicked it over with your foot. “We've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod…”

Toothless began to sniff through the fish, nudging through to find the good stuff.

“And a whole smoked eel…” You slowly stepped around the pile when toothless growled. He backed up, snarling at the pile. 

You tilted your head and reached in, pulling out the eel. Toothless saw it and expanded his wings in defense, roaring loudly.

“No, no no no! It's ok!” You quickly threw the eel away and placed out your hand to him, your contraption firmly under the other.

He huffed and you wiped your hand on your coat. “Yeah, I don't much like eel either…”

And Toothless went sniffing through the pile of fish again, wolfing down a few without wasting time.

“That's it…” you slowly backed up behind him. “That's it. Just stick with the good stuff.” 

You slowly set up the wing you'd made. “And don't you mind me I'll be back here…  minding my own business…”

You attempted to wrangle Toothless’ tail. Strapping the belts around it as he dug around the basket. Having to sit on his tail and gently spread open the fabric.

When you finally got it hooked on, you sat back. “Hey, doesn't look half bad.”

Toothless’ head perked up as soon as he felt it. A weight on his other tail. He slowly patted his feet into the ground. He could fly… he could fly.

Toothless spread his wings, and took off. “Woah! Whooaa!!” You gasped, seeing the ground suddenly falling away from you. You leaned down, grabbing and holding onto Toothless’ tail tightly.

“No no no!!” You cried as Toothless darted for the coves edge. You watched wide eyed, your adrenaline pumping.

The tail had closed and was flailing in the wind, Toothless starting to lose air. 

Oh fuck oh fuck. You managed to pry one sweaty hand from his tail and pull it open. Toothless caught air and zoomed up into the sky. 

“Oh, my…! It's working!!” You cried as Toothless flew away from the island. He twisted in the air, flying back over the cove and back across the pond. 

“Yes! Yes! I did it!”

Toothless looked back. What the?? Why is this toothpick still hanging on to me!? 

He twisted upside down and flicked his tail, tossing you into the pond and flew away. 

Losing control of himself, he shrieked as he slammed back into the ground across the lake. He looked at the folded in tail angrily. 

You swam above the water furiously, smiling. “Yeah!” You splashed.

The next day at training you were faced with the Hideous Zippleback. Teamed up with Gaz, your goal was to work together to disarm the two headed dragon of its abilities.

One head spreading flammable gas, the other head lights that gas.

“Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion. Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-”

You frowned at Gaz, gripping your bucket tight. “Would you please stop that!?”

As more gas filled the arena, Graves and Soap turned back to back, looking around for any sign of the dragon.

“If that dragon shows either of his faces, I'm gonna- there!” Graves spotted something through the gas, both him and Soap frantically throwing their buckets of water.

The gas cleared, and there stood hell itself. A soaking. Wet. Ghost.

Oh.

“Oh it's just Ghost, we thought you were a dragon!” Soap shrinks back, smiling like an awkward idiot. 

“Well, clearly,” he snapped coldly. “I am not!”

“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”

Graves hit Soap with his elbow. “Not that there's nothing wrong with a…” Ghost was already marching toward him.

“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 

Ghost punched him hard in the nose, sending him back. He landed on his butt, before he could get up something snatched him into the gas.

Ghost put his arm in front of Soap. “Wait.” He whispered. 

There was a cry and Graves ran from the smoke. “Ow! Ow!”

Gaz gulped, you and him still back to back. “Chances of survival are dwindling in the single digits now…”

One of the dragon's heads peered out from the smoke and came toward you two. Sharp yellow eyes trained on Gaz.

“Woah, Woah!” He scrambled back as it cornered him, and he threw his bucket of water onto it.

The dragon rippled a growl, gas billowing from beyond its maw. 

“Oh… wrong head.” He smiled awkwardly. It drenched Gaz in gas, Gobber calling out for him, and Gaz made a run for it.

Leaving you the last one with a water bucket. Both of the heads now coming around, the dragon facing you from both sides. 

One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.

“Now y/n!” Gobber said.

You raised your water bucket. “Eh.” You threw it up, the water barely hitting the dragon. “Oh come on…”

You. Are completely… and utterly useless… be thankful you have a dragon now or you would not survive let me tell you. 

The dragon surrounded you. “Y/n!” Gobber yelled, coming over.

But I admit, what you lack in physical strength you make up in your capacity to learn. 

Standing up slowly, the dragon snarled and whipped back. You pulled the eel from your vest, holding it out to them.

“Back! Back!” You snapped, the dragon snarling and backing away from the eel.

“That's right! Back in your cage!” You corralled it back in, slamming the door shut with all the might you had. Which isn't much.

The others watched. Ghost’s signature glare burning into your skin. This was fucking ridiculous.

You clapped your hands together. “So uh… are we done??” They all stared at you wordlessly. “Because I uh.. I got some stuff to do so I'll just… yeah. See you tomorrow!”

You smiled, spending the rest of the day at the forge. Creating some more things you could use in your adventures with Toothless.

Putting together a saddle.

You brought it to Toothless and when he saw it he smiled. Perking up and running away. “Hey!” You laughed, running after him. 

Toothless gurgled and fled around the ground as you chased after him.

After getting the saddle on you learned pretty quickly you'd need some way to hold on. After a failed fly test force Toothless to panic and throw you off his back into the water again. 

No problem, just a little waist retainer was all that was needed. Hooking it onto the saddle and having another go.

The second time was slightly better. You'd tied a rope around your ankle that would help you pull the tail fin open. 

Toothless roared when you tried again, losing control in the air just after getting out of the cove. 

“Hold hold ha!!” You cried as Toothless squirmed and fell into a bed of tall dragon nip. 

You stumbled, looking around the tall grass and going back to see Toothless rolling around comfortably in the grass. Relaxing fully in total relaxation.

Huh. Odd. 

You picked up some of the nip, looking at it curiously. Again, it's best you have a bigger head than bigger biceps. 

When faced with a Gronckle for the next training exercise, you ended things quickly. It crashed into Graves and went for you. You held up the dragon nip you had taken and it immediately slowed down.

The Gronckle crashed to the ground and you rubbed the dragon nip against its nose. 

The villagers gathered around the top of the pit to watch you in awe, the village elder also noticing how much you'd suddenly improved your dragon prowess in recent days. 

After which all the teens were gathered around you. Well, almost all of them.

“Wow, how did you do that??” Soap asked.

“I never would have thought about that-” Gaz piped up.

“I've never even seen a Gronckle do that!” Graves blurted. 

Ghost trained behind, watching as you laughed awkwardly. “Oh I uh, I left my axe in the ring.” You turned, bumping into Ghost as you did. 

He jumped, pushing you lightly and you went around him. “Sorry, sorry.” 

They watched, the others smiling excitement. Ghost glaring down your whole existence.

Spending more time with Toothless, you began to introduce the fondness of scratches and pets. Scratching the patches of scales along his neck and ear fins.

Toothless groaned, leaning up into it, turning his head and closing his eyes. You scratched under his chin and he went limp, falling to the ground with a content exhale. 

The next day, back in training. 

Ghost yelled, throwing his axe at the deadly Nadder that turned, running back over to you two. It roared loudly, pushing Ghost to the ground, skinning his upper arm. 

You readied yourself, quickly dropping the axe as the Nadder ran to you. 

Ghost scrambled back up, grabbing his axe. His heart pounded as he lifted it and ran. You noticed him and turned quickly to the Nadder.

You reached up, scratching behind its ear, down to its chin and right… there.

The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.

Ghost panted, lowering his axe in disbelief. You smiled at him and shrugged.

This continued on. Spending time with Toothless you learned he was just like a cat. 

Using a hammer to shine a light across the ground, you watched with amusement as Toothless chased after it. Hopping and purring to catch it.

Training faced you with the Terrible Terror. Which admittedly you didn't expect it to be as small as it was.

“Meet the Terrible Terror.”

A small door attached to the main door opened, like a cat door. The tiny dragon scuttling out, licking its eyeball, staring at you all.

“Aw, it's like the size of my- ah!!” Soap jumped back as the Terror jumped at him. You all scattered as Soap landed on the ground, the terror chewing on his nose. 

“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”

The Terror perked up, seeing a light moving across the ground. It flicked its tail, smiling and rushing from Soap after the light. 

You guided it with the shiny part of your shield back into its small hut, closing the door with your foot.

“Wow, he's better than you ever were.” Soap rubs his nose, looking at Ghost.

After which you spent more time working on a harness and a better string attachment for the tail fin.

When rushed through the woods up ran into Ghost, throwing his axe into different trees, training his aim.

He raised his axe, pausing when he saw you. You two looked at each other, and then you rushed off. You couldn't let him see Toothless. 

When Ghost turned to follow after you, you had somehow already disappeared. 

Fuck!

You began to work on the positions of your contraption with Toothless. Strapping him to a tree stump so you could write down the number of each foot turn.

Able to move your heel and shift the position of the tailfin through the rope.

“Position one.” You shifted the lever, writing it down on your little piece of paper. “And position two.” He shifts it, Toothless' wings catching air and the rope snapped. 

“Gah!” You gasped as you were thrown back to the ground. 

Toothless groaned and rolled over, pulling you up by the waist, the waist retainer stuck to the clip of Toothless' saddle.

“Oh brother…”

Forced to drag Toothless back to the village while still tangled together, you snuck past a few guards and led him into the smithing shop. 

You looked around for something to pry the hook open, Toothless shoving his nose in a basket. When he flicked it off, it hit one of the weapons on the wall, causing noise.

Ghost who was passing, heading back, begrudgingly home, heard it.

He walked over to the smithing window. “Y/n?? Are you in there??”

Both you and Toothless looked up. You quickly dropped what you were doing and pushed yourself out the smithing window, looking at him. 

“Ghost- hi, Ghost. Hi, hi… hi Ghost.” You fumbled with the waist trainer. Toothless sniffing around and pulling you back against the doors.

Toothless looked around, spotting a sheep. The sheep spotted him, immediately rushing away. 

“I normally don't care what people do but you're acting weird.”. Ghost points an accusatory finger. “Well, weirder.”

You huffed, stumbling back. The trainer lifted you off your feet. Ghost stared at you as the doors of the smithing window gave in and sucked you back. Ghost immediately rushed over and opened it, seeing the smelter empty. 

You and Toothless sneaking away and flying off. That. Was. Way too close…

That day was the day your father arrived back. One of the boats with several holes in it and barely survived. Their search for a nest of dragons once again produced no fruit.

Gobber was there when Stoick arrived back. “Well, I trust you found the nest at least?”

“Not even close.” He growled, walking past with a fixed frown.

“Oh. Excellent.” Gobber said sarcastically, following Stoick. 

“I hope you had a little more success than me.”

“Well, if by success, you mean that your parenting troubles are over with, then... yes.” He took a basket of supplies over his shoulder while he walked.

Various different Vikings congratulating Stoick on his kid actually becoming vikinglike. Can you imagine that eh?

“Their gone??” Stoick asked.

“Yeah... most afternoons. But who can blame them? I mean the life of a celebrity's very rough. They can barely walk through the village without being swarmed by his new fans.” Gobber replied.

“Y/n??”

“Who would have thought it eh? He has this… way with the beasts.”

Stoick’s eyes widened. Yes. What he'd been waiting for your entire life!

Off somewhere near the edge of the island, you were busy with Toothless. Having written up your complete cheat sheet, you secured the small paper with all of your positions to Toothless' saddle. Slowly gliding through the air.

“Alright bud we're gonna take this nice and slow” You looked over the sheet. “Here we go, here we go. Position…” 

“Three. No… four.” You looked down at the foot pedal and positioned it, the tail fin opening. Toothless looked down at it, wiggling his head and getting used to it. 

The gentle glide turned into a slow fly, Toothless guiding with your help through the winds, his wings catching air flawlessly.

Toothless flew you up into the air, passing some clouds. You held on, looking back at the tail fin. “Alright. It's go time, it's go time.”

Toothless roared and dove down toward the sea stacks littering around the island ocean.

“Come on buddy! Come on buddy!” You encourage. You held onto the saddle tightly when Toothless flew down over the water, the waves lapping up to touch his belly as you went by. 

You looked up as you passed through two connected sea stacks, watching the birds startle and fly off. “Yes, it worked!” 

The tail was holding up so far.

You flew up away from the water, attempting to make a turn and throwing Toothless into a sea stack. He growled and flapped violently. “Sorry!” You winced.

Barely recovering you saw another stack, attempting to pull him up sharply and hitting another. He growled again. “It was my fault.” You cringed.

He hit you with his ear. “Yeah yeah, I'm on it. Position four- uh, three.” You shifted the foot pedal and took off into the sky. Soaring up over the sea stacks and into the fluffy clouds.

“Yeah!! Aw this is nice. The wind in my -” the paper attached to the saddle flew off and into the wind. “Cheat sheet!” You reached back to try and grab it. 

“Stop!!” 

Toothless flapped his wings, halting as best he could, sending you forward. The hook on the waist belt and the saddle came off. 

“No!!” Toothless saw you and panicked, falling back and scrambled. “No!! Oh no!!” You yelled as you fell and spiraled in the sky down toward the sea.

Toothless roared when he saw you falling faster than him. “Oh, gods! Oh, no!!” You cried your lungs out.

“Alright! You gotta kind angle yourself!” You flipped onto your back, trying to help Toothless. “Okay, no, no, no... come back down towards me! Come back down-- YOW!” Toothless’ tail smacked you as you fell. 

You flipped onto your front, reaching out to grab the hook on the saddle, just out of reach. 

Toothless wailed and cried when you finally grabbed it, managing to pull yourself on. Reattaching and gripping the saddle, angled downward. 

The cheat sheet hit you in the face and you grabbed it, putting it between your teeth. You zoomed straight toward a downward plain of trees, trying to pull Toothless back up.

He roared and whined, zooming down at an angle over the trees, his wings catching wind. As you zoomed down to the bottom you pulled the cheat sheet again. With all the wind you couldn't read anything on it.

Looking between the sheet and some sea stacks, you tossed the sheet,grabbing the saddle and readjusting the foot pedal. 

Toothless roared and zoomed to the side, making the corner before you could hit the stones.

You zoomed through the various passages, shifting the foot pedal again through the fog. Coming shooting out the other side into the clear open air. 

You panted, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Yeah!!” You raised your arms. Toothless smiled and shit a blast into the air, ruining your celebration. “Come on…”

You were pummeled into the fire, pushing your hair back and covering your clothes in specs of dirt and char. 

You flew with Toothless some more, your adventure leading you back to a sea stack, there you got some fish and made a small fire.

Toothless laid down, retching up one of his fish heads while you leaned back against him, cooking your own dinner over the fire.

“Uh, no thanks, I'm good.” You refused the fish head. 

Some small dragons spotted you and flew over to your little set up. Those tiny Terrible Terrors. Toothless growled, protecting his fish as they came over, snapping at one.

You watched as one of them grabbed the head of the fish Toothless had belched up and shot at another dragon who tried to take it.

Toothless watches unimpressed, when his food started moving. One of the dragon's trying to sneak a fish from his pile. Toothless growled, grabbing the fish in his teeth and pulling it back. 

The Terror whined, causing toothless to bellow a low laugh. 

The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 

You looked between the two as it stood up on its back legs and inhaled. Before it could do anything Toothless shot a small blast at it, inflating it and it puffed out smoke, whining. 

You chuckled. “Not so fireproof on the inside are ya?” You tossed one of your fish. “Here ya go.” It scuttled over and wolfed it down quickly. 

Licking its eyeball and cautiously wandering over to you. It whines, curling up beside you, purring softly.

“Everything we know about you guys… It's wrong.”

Unfortunately it won't let me post this much so to read the rest of it please see the reblog I did for the rest of the post. ❤

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #httyd #httyd x cod crossover #httyd/cod #call of duty/how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon 1 script #platonic x reader #reader insert #cod crossover #fandom crossover #script fic #two part fic #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #toothless with reader

[thatbigbisexual29]

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served.... Spider (ATSV)

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY IT IS FINISHED!!! MY MAGNUM OPUS!!!! So... hi everyone! I'm so sorry this fic took so long! I got caught up with life stuff and my writer's inspo kept leaving me when I needed it most ;-; But it's now done! So now I post it! Also its super fricken long sorry about that lols. ANyways, enjoy and eat up my lovlies! ^<^

There he was. Perfect timing. Perfect position. Perfect opportunity. Three spidermen stood and watched their older counterpart closely with crossed arms.

“He’s asleep.”

“He’s wide open.”

“He’ll kill us if we go through with this.”

The three teens, Miles, Pavitr, and Gwen, all took pause and thought for a moment. The one they were looking at was none other than Hobie Brown, asleep and outstretched on Miles’ parents sofa. It was an amusing sight. The teen was waaaaay too big for the couch. Hobie laid on his stomach with his arms outstretched over one arm of the couch, and his legs dangling over the other arm. And he had a small flock of spider-teens observing him with crossed arms.

The three had recently come across the fact that they had all been targeted and sentenced to tickling by the punk. They came to this realization as they were watching a movie and a tickle scene came on. They all shuddered at their recent memories from their own experiences (as well as the scene being especially rude) and they started talking. That leads us to now.

“Do we really need to get him back? I mean, I liked it when he tickled me, it was fun!” Pavitr admitted, earning a look from the other two spiders.

“That’s only because he didn’t punish you. We,” Gwen gestured to herself and Miles, “got punished. We want to get him back.”

“Yeah, just because you had a good time doesn’t mean we did. Revenge is in order,” Miles agreed. Pav smiled a bit and shook his head.

“You Americans and your ticklish bloodlust. You shouldn’t have pranked him in the first place!” he giggled as he earned more scowls from his friends. Then he stretched his arms and cracked his fingers. “But if you two are too scared to start, I know where he’s ticklish!”

Pavitr walked up confidently, constantly surprising Miles and Gwen with his boldness. Moving Hobie’s hair from his neckline, he found his nape and started gently scribbling. The reaction was immediate. Hobie hummed a laugh, then started mumbling out chuckles, shifting on the couch as Pav continued. His arms sleepily reached behind him and his hands waved around as if he was trying to catch Pav’s, but he had no such luck.

“Mmmhmhmhmhmhm… Kahaharl quihihihit…” the punk muttered through his soft giggles. Miles and Gwen looked on in awe but soon dawned evil smiles on their faces. Pavitr was about to speak until they all held their breaths. Hobie groaned in his sleep and turned over entirely, now lying on his back. He scratched at his stomach and smacked his lips, returning to his peaceful slumber. The three teens gave each other looks of confirmation.

“I’m getting his stomach.” Miles called.

“His legs are all mine.” Gwen purred.

“Well, someone has to hold his arms...” Pavitr sighed.

They all jumped onto the taller Spider-Man. Miles sat on his thighs, Gwen sat on his knees facing him, and Pavitr quickly thwipped Hobie’s wrists together and held down the web with his foot, keeping his hands free. Hobie instantly woke up with a snort, looking around all dazed and confused.

“H-Huh? Whas happnin’? ‘S goin’ on?” he asked. He pulled at his wrists and started to panic as he realized the situation he was in. He pulled more as he saw Miles sitting above him with crossed arms and a smirk.

“Mornin’ Hobs. Had a nice nap?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man asked. Hobie looked straight up and saw Pav who waved. He looked around Miles to see Gwen who nodded her head towards him. Hobie simply sighed and deflated where he laid, ragdolling his head on the arm of the couch.

“Whas dis den? You lot tryna get me back, is that it?” he said.

“Yep,” Gwen said.

“Nailed it right on the head,” Miles agreed.

“I mean, not really but this seems like fun,” Pavitr chided. Hobie took one more assessment of his situation before shrugging.

“Fine,” he sighed. “If it keeps you busy.”

The three spider kids were slightly taken aback by his willingness, but they shook it off nonetheless.

“Pav, you wanna start first?” Miles asked. Pavitr tapped his chin as if he was thinking about it.

“Hmm… let me think…” As he started to ponder, he took his free hand and softly scribbled his fingers up and down Hobie’s bicep, getting so close to his armpit but stopping just a hair short to continue upwards.

Hobie jumped at the contact and bit his lip, fighting back snickers while saying, “Oho fuck ohoff Pav.”

“I mean, I really should go first, shouldn’t I?” India’s Spider-Man spoke as he touched his other hand down on Hobie’s bicep, now scribbling up and down both his arms while speaking. “I am the one he got first. Even though I liked it, you can’t just tickle someone and not expect to be tickled back, right? Oh but if I do, he might get me back worse! What to do, what to do! Maybe I should just stay here, teasing him, almost going to his armpits but not quite yet~” 

Meanwhile, Hobie was currently suffering under the torturous teasing he was being subjected to. Miles smiled and watched as his usually concealed friend lose his mind at a few simple scratches.

“Come on, Hobs!” Pav continued, now scratching right above his armpits. “I know how ticklish you are! Why hide it? I can feel you’re gonna break~ Aaaaaaaaaany second now~ Maybe I should go lower? Maybe I should tickle your armpits? Would that make you laugh? Hm?~”

“Ffffffffffuhuhucker- Pahav- Imma k-kihihill you!” Hobie growled through his giggles. He used all the movement he could to cover his eyes with his elbows. His smile was bigger than ever and he was constantly moving and shaking his torso.

“Looks like Hobie’s quite the dancer! Wiggle wiggle Hobs~” Miles cooed. Gwen just sat back and pulled out her phone, recording this moment. I’m so sending this to Peter, she thought with an evil smirk.

“What do you guys think? Should I go for the kill?” Pav asked as he hovered his hands over his friend’s armpits. Hobie’s eyes widened and he gasped, holding his breath. He let out hesitational giggles as Pav’s fingers wriggled above their target area. Even Miles felt shivers up his spine.

“Oh hell yes you should! Why don’t I help out?~” Miles brought his own wiggly fingers to hover above Hobie’s ribs. The taller teen grunted and covered his eyes again.

“Y-You fuckheads! Teasin’s not fair! Bofa yous as dead as doornails, ‘ear me??” The Spider-Punk said in a panicked voice. Miles and Pav looked at each other and nodded. At the same time they mouthed ‘1…2…3!’

Then, they attacked! Both Miles and Pav touched down onto Hobie’s torso and began their assault. Pavitr wickedly scratched and clawed Hobie’s armpits while Miles dug his fingers between the spaces of his ribs. Hobie, meanwhile, barked out a laugh and jerked hard. He nearly sent Gwen flying! She was lucky that he was barely using his spider strength, so instead she got shoved into Miles’ back. 

“Oof! Hehey, watch it Hobs! You tryna kill me here?” the Spider-Woman retorted. Hobie was too busy laughing his ass off to make up a witty response.

“BAHhahahahahahahahaha! F-Fuck sake- gyahahahahaha! Gehehehehet outta thehehehehehere! Shhhhihihihihihits! You shihihihitbags! Fffr- grrr- pfffhahahahahahaha!” Hobie was a completely new person. The only people who’ve seen this ticklish side of him were Karl and Pav, but he’s never been tickled by them at the same time. But did having Miles and Pav tickle him simultaneously make it any less fun? No. No it did not. This was the most fun he’s had in his life!

“I told you guys he’s ticklish! Oh, oh! What’s that thing you sing to Karl when you tickle him? It goes like “I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you until you dieeeeeeee~” right? Am I right?” Pav asked, constantly stirring the pot and switching up his technique. He went from digging and vibrating to scratching and scribbling, then to poking and prodding. Miles laughed a bit.

“You seriously sing that?” he asked.

“Yes, he does. I have videos for proof,” Gwen said from her spot behind Miles (she fixed her position to where she was sitting on Hobie’s shins).

“Ooh, you should show him the video you took of Karl and Hobie on Karl’s birthday! Now that was brutal!” Pav said, harboring another bark of laughter from the punk below him as he jammed his fingers into the center of his hollows.

“J-Jehehehehehehehesus Christ! Stahahahahahahahap tahahahahalkin’!” Hobie ordered, but his words failed to carry any authority. Miles just smirked and vibrated his fingers faster and he felt deeply satisfied when the punk jerked forward.

“Guys, I don’t think I can believe what I’m hearing. Is he actually trying to order us around right now?” Miles raised an eyebrow and looked to Gwen and Pav.

“Completely unbelievable,” Pav agreed.

“Especially coming from the guy who ‘doesn’t follow orders.’ What do you have to say for yourself, Hobs?” Gwen asked. Hobie could only flop back and forth while spewing giggles and laughs from his mouth, shaking his head so much so one would think you asked him if he liked the government. The three teens just laughed with him. Then, Hobie said something unexpected.

“Breheheheheheak!” he laughed out. “Breheheheheheak break break! I cahahahahahahan’t!”

Without a second thought, Miles and Pavitr raised their hands and halted their tickling. Hobie’s body instantly relaxed, giggling and sighing as he caught his breath. Gwen was up in a flash and making a beeline for the kitchen. Pavitr rubbed Hobie’s pits to rub the ghost tickles away, being careful he wasn’t tickling the older spider. Miles patted Hobie’s side in an attempt to calm him.

“You alright, Hobie? Is it too much? Should we stop??” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man questioned, looking from Hobie to Pavitr for confirmation. Pav just smiled back at him.

“No need to panic, Spidey,” he explained, “It’s normal for someone to get worked up in a situation like this. He just needs some water and a breather, then we’re free to get back to it! Right Hobs?”

Hobie responded with a nod, now just panting. Gwen returned with a cup of water and offered it to Hobie’s lips. The punk shimmied up so he could drink more comfortably. And drink he did. He barely left a drop in the cup before laying back down. Then, he chuckled.

“You two are right fuckin’ evil, man. Downright awful, it was. Shihihit,” he chuckled.

“Well just you wait! Cause Miles is really about to knock your socks off~” Gwen cooed, pinching Hobie’s cheek like a grandma would. Hobie, feeling playful, bit at her fingers. Gwen squeaked out in surprise and shot her hand back to her side.

“Hey!” she fussed. Hobie just grinned with mischief. Gwen just rolled her eyes with a smile, shook her head, and traveled back to the kitchen with cup in hand.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, Hobie!” Miles said.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gon’ do bout it, Miles? Hm? Gon’ punish me? Treat me like a bad boy, huh? I reckon you won’t, ya too much of a coward~” Hobie taunted, shimmying his chest at Miles. Brooklyn’s Spider-Man was immediately taken back, sending a confused look at Pavitr. Pav simply laughed.

“This trick again, Hobie?” Pav asked as he looked down at his friend, giggling when Hobie waggled his eyebrows at him. “This is a method he tries to mess with anyone who’s tickling him. But it never works. Just go ahead, he loves this stuff!”

Miles simply looked at Hobie and smiled. Hobie sighed and shrugged.

“Wurf a shot, roight?” he said. Miles grabbed the hem of Hobie’s shirt and pulled up, finding a pleasant surprise. 

“No way!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” Pavitr poked his head up. 

“Did you find an embarrassing birthmark? A third nipple??” Gwen said, running back from the kitchen, all too excited to find something humiliating to tease Hobie for.

“No, look!” Miles pointed his finger to his stomach where it harbored a black and silver belly button piercing with an upside down cross. The three gawked as they looked at it, giving the punk a longer break.

“Holy crap you have a belly piercing??” Pavitr asked, bewildered. 

“You should see what else I have pierced~” Hobie said with a wink to his friends. 

There were three seconds of silence before Pavitr barked out, “YOU PIERCED YOUR PENIS?!?”

Everyone burst out into hysterical laughter at Pav’s declaration. Miles deflated onto Hobie’s chest, Gwen slumped against the back of the couch, and Hobie just cackled as if they started tickling him again.

“No Pahav, mah nips! I pierced mah nipples, ya goon! I’m fuckin’ out mah mind, not crazy! Pahahaha!” Hobie said, giggling out of his mind.

“Oh my god, I wish I had that recorded!” Gwen cried out through her laughter. Miles just held his head on Hobie’s chest and snickered hysterically. Pavitr blushed from embarrassment but started laughing too. And Hobie was a mess. He was giggling so much that he started to let out tiny snorts. Miles shot up when he heard them.

“You snort when you laugh!” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man accused, pointing a finger right in the punk’s face. “Why did you rip on me when you snort too? You’re such a hypocrite!”

Hobie just giggled and said, “Cause it’s cuter when you do it! ‘S adorable, mate, ‘ow can I not tease ya?”

“Oh, you’re getting it now!” Miles declared, raising his two hands and forming them into claws. “Any last words?~”

“Sleep with one eye open- yeEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Hobie taunted then screamed as Miles dug into his stomach. He used the same method he used on his ribs, only this time, he used tiny sparks of his venom to add more to its kick. Hobie jerked up hard, nearly sending Miles flying, but the teen just laughed and held on tighter.

“Haha! Oh man, regret teasing me yet? Or do you need more persuasion?” Miles asked as he kneaded and zapped Hobie’s toned stomach. Hobie just barked out loud laughter as he swung around, thrashing like a rodeo bull. Pav looked shocked but was laughing with them as Gwen started recording again.

“FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACK MIHIHIHIHIHIHILES!! CH-CHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! YOU CHEHEHEHEHEHEAT!! NOHOHOHOHO VEHEHEHEHEHENOM!! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!” Hobie threw his head back and cackled like a madman.

“Holy crap! You’re ruthless Miles! That’s his worst spot!” Pavitr said. It was unaware if he was warning Miles or encouraging him.

Either way, Hobie genuinely looked like he was having fun. His smile was wide and unapologetic, his eyes closed as his nose scrunched tight. It was a beautiful sight and such a 180 from his normal personality. Miles was going to ask for every single video and picture Gwen was taking at that very moment. And every other video or picture where Hobie’s getting tickled.

“You think this is ruthless?” Miles asked, removing his hands to give Hobie a very short lived break. “Let me show you what my Uncle Aaron taught my dad when I was a kid.”

“You… you still are a kid… bitch…” Hobie panted out. Now his fate was sealed. Miles furrowed his brows and smiled. Without any warning, Miles rapidly squeezed his hands against Hobie’s sides and inhaled deeply before blowing a massive raspberry on the punk’s stomach. Hobie fucking lost it. He arched up high and his laughter went silent. Then, it roared out of him as if he was the offspring of a lion and hyena.

“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAILES!!!! SHIHIHIHIHIHIHI- FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOT AGAIN! NOT AGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIN!!! YOUHUHU FUCKIN PEHEHEHEHEHEST!! AHAHAHAHAHA SHIT!! OK!! OKOKOK AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I TAHAHAHAHAKE IT BAHAHAHAHAHAHACK!!” Miles sat back and laughed a bit, enjoying how easily he picked apart his friend.

“Come on, punk rocker! Can’t handle a few wittle tickews? You’re lucky I’m not shocking you! Or going after your piercing~ Man, how hellish would that be?” Brooklyn’s Spider-Man taunted. Hobie was ballistic. Pav noticed this and was about to warn Miles to stop when his spider sense went off. He looked up to the front door and saw the doorknob turning and heard the sound of jingling keys.

“Miles, stop! Your parents are home!” Pavitr said, quickly fishing Hobie’s pocket knife from the punk’s discarded jacket. Miles looked up and towards the hall. He sprang off Hobie as Gwen casually went to get another cup of water. Pavitr cut the webs and Miles helped calm Hobie down just as Rio Morales walked in.

“Miles? Everything alright? It sounded like someone was dying in here,” she said, hanging up her purse and walking into the living room. What she found was quite the wholesome sight. The tv was on as Miles and Pav sat with Hobie on the couch, laughing at some sitcom that was playing. Gwen came from the kitchen and smiled to Rio.

“Sorry, Rio- I mean, Mrs. Morales. The show we were watching is just super funny! I was about to make us some popcorn, want a bag?” the blonde spider-woman somewhat lied, distracting the woman. Meanwhile, Hobie was leaning back on the couch and hugging his torso, still recovering from the harsh tickles he received. Miles immediately felt guilty.

“Hey man, you alright? I went too far, didn’t I?” he asked, looking at Hobie with a worried glance. Hobie just chuckled, and as if he had regained all of his strength just then, he swooped an arm around Miles’ neck and dug his knuckles into his head, giving him a noogie.

“Ah, you little bugga! Who knew you were such a meanie? Yeah, I’s jus ‘bout to tap out. But you good mahn! Was super fun. You’ll still have to watch your back~” Hobie cooed that last part into his ear as he squeezed his ribs, making Miles bark out a laugh.

The teens went on with their night, Gwen declaring that one day she’d get her own personal revenge on Hobie (even though they argued that the pictures and photos she took were her revenge). They found a movie and nuzzled into a large cuddle pile, falling asleep in the blankets and pillows, all of them leaning on Hobie.

And the last thing Hobie thought before he faded into sleep was, God my friends are the best.

#why did this fic take so LONG?!?! #but its done so now I can get back to work! #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman #miles morales #gwen stacy #tickle fic #atsv tickle #spiderverse tickle #tickle

[decepti-thots]

Wayyy back in 2021, a good two years ago now, I wrote a post on a bad brain day that was less actual meta and more just me rambling that was me trying to unpick a specific thing I have a problem with in Dying of the Light as a kind of springboard into my bigger thematic issue with the arc. And I've always wanted to go back and redo it but never gotten around to it. But now I have! That's what this post is! You see what I am doing here.

Right, so. Hear me out here. The crux of it is that I think the turning point of DotL works a lot better in a scenario where Rodimus saves Megatron against his will. (This is a lie, the first thousand words of this are actually just about Rodimus and Megatron's narrative roles, but I swear I will get to the DotL bit.)

Let's back up a bit. One of the things that gets pointed out about the back half of MTMTE a lot is that Rodimus' arc quickly loses a lot of focus, and that this is jarring in a comic that had previously used him for a lot of its forward momentum narratively speaking. Rodimus didn't just get a lot of focus in early MTMTE in the sense of character spotlight, but also in how the same things that drove his "personal" arc drove the wider conflicts in the comic and pushed its overall story forward. That is to say: when Rodimus fucks something up for himself, or fixes something for himself, it has broader impact on the surrounding narrative. Rodimus' low point when the mess with Overlord comes out is also the comic's low point when a bunch of people have died and things reach a nadir. And when Rodimus resolves to change things after Remain in Light, it feels like a similar moment for the entire cast and story as a whole, this sense of "OK, now we're back on an upswing post-finale".

Megatron's introduction to the story massively reduces the degree of symbiosis like that between Rodimus and the story as a whole. Rodimus stops feeling like an ostensible protagonist among the ensemble even when he still gets pretty decent page time. I think the reason why is that a lot of the connections that were previously being drawn between his arc and the overall story progression shift to instead draw those links between Megatron and the direction of the story. Which causes a few issues, but in my opinion the biggest one is: Rodimus' entire character is designed to be a character who works like that. His arc is about understanding that his fuck ups have wide ranging consequences and how to be a leader that does not hide serial killers in the basement that ruin everyone's day. (He's very relatable, isn't he.) If you meaningfully reduce the degree to which his arc drives the broader conflicts of the plot, you can't really... do much with him. Because now, a ton of the page time when things go tits up in a big way gets handed over to Megatron for reasons of pursuing his arc, which also requires he face Big Consequences head on. And page time is scarce! But without Rodimus being the character whose investment in those big stakes is the focus, you don't have those opportunities to drive his character arc forward anymore, and frankly he was way too central for that to ever be anything but awkwardly noticeable as a dangling thread.

And I was scratching my head about why all this was such an issue when this is a comic that can pride itself on narrative efficiency above all else. Listen, MTMTE is really good at having almost everything pull double duty. The first issue is a masterclass in this on its own; every scene is using character dynamics to introduce multiple characters and often multiple relationships at once, foreshadowing is used to drop character notes, interpersonal dynamics are used to lay groundwork for bigger stories that will be told down the line. So the obvious answer to this issue is surely just that you need to incorporate the new character you're finding room for in your story into one of those dynamics.

Which I do think winds up being the issue. The comic never really manages to find a 'hook' for that Megatron-Rodimus dynamic that allows them to both occupy the same narrative space, as it were, where more than one or the other character they and their dynamic are driving the story together. So we wind up with this effect of Rodimus fading into the background of it. The problem seems to me to be that their arcs don't wind up with enough overlap for them to both occupy these story beats together without one of them- overwhelmingly Rodimus- seeming superfluous. The thing is, the arc set out for Megatron can't really be about his interpersonal issues with Rodimus. The scope is too big. You're never going to be able to turn them bickering due to a personality clash into fodder to drive the actual themes of it. Not in a way that feels actually relevant to what's at stake there.

Which means that to make them foils that can function as a tighter and more cohesive narrative unit, so that both of them can take equal billing in the "this is us moving the overarching plot forward" moments, I think the conflict between them needs to be operating on a thematic level. Because in MTMTE, it's... not? Seriously. It feels like it is, because it resembles what that setup looks like in other stories where characters are these ideological foils. But in what way is Rodimus, in MTMTE, a foil to the themes and aims of Megatron's arc? He's, errr. Not someone who has been an evil warlord? He's an Autobot who has... always been an Autobot? His arc just isn't obviously complementary because it's not an arc about redemption, or even really morality at all. (Note that characters don't really talk about Rodimus' fuck up with Overlord as a moral failing, but as a personal one. The moral framework doesn't tend to come into it with Rodimus, because that's not what the story is really interested in exploring with him.)

Which makes sense, because Rodimus' arc wasn't conceived to be a counterpart of Megatron's. And Megatron's wasn't designed around Rodimus. They are two lead characters whose arcs need them to be in very different stories for things to go in a direction that will bring out the beats of their respective arcs. And Megatron's got catchup to do in series two, so Megatron wins out.

But I don't think it actually has to be like that, because there is a way I think you can take the arcs as they're shown to us and intertwine them much more, which is where I can finally circle back around to the question of Dying of the Light.

At that point in the comic, I think you can say that the one really obvious parallel between the two that can be drawn is that (on admittedly different scales) they have both struggled to work out what accountability is supposed to look like. You have Rodimus who has been through the Overlord debacle and then Remain in Light, and you have Megatron who in DotL has the whole thing where he is confronted with just how many people he's killed. Rodimus in RiL especially has a whole thing where he dismisses the idea of dying heroically to make up for his mistakes getting people killed because it's cheap, and this is a defining character moment for him. It frames everything he does going forward and answers the question of "is Rodimus capable of taking actual responsibility", which sets us up for the vote and all that stuff. Rodimus is asked to risk dying to fix things and correctly identifies this as an easy way out and says "no, I'll do one better than that", and the remaining arc we get for him before Megatron's introduction is him dealing with fallout.

Dying of the Light has the scene for Megatron with the spark flowers, and while that scene does not tend to land for me overall, I can acknowledge that it has a really specific purpose: it's the point that Megatron's later attempt to just die with Tarn is calling back to. It explains his change in behaviour. What we've seen of Megatron up to that point suggests him as someone who is trying to make amends in the sense of balancing the scales- yes, he's done bad things, but now he's doing good things, and eventually this will even things out. The flower scene is there because it provides a visual metaphor for the sheer scope of what Megatron did, and importantly it provides that perspective to Megatron. It makes the point that doing this is clearly not possible given what, exactly, Megatron is making amends for. You can't just community service your way out of that graveyard, essentially.

So this allows us to look at Megatron trying to die alongside Tarn in DotL through the lens of him basically being like "there's no way for me to actually fix this, so all I can do is die for it". And this is where we run into the change that I think would allow this to be a point where Rodimus and Megatron's arcs could be tied together by a larger overarching theme: Rodimus thinks that's bullshit. Specifically, he thinks it's cheating. We know he does, because it's what he rejected in Remain in Light.

Rather than frame Rodimus as reaching for Megatron because of his personal investment in him as someone he's now come to care about, and Megatron accepting as a gesture towards accepting that friendship, I'd offer an alternative. Megatron does not accept and Rodimus hauls his ass out of there unwillingly. Not (just) because of their developing relationship, but because Rodimus is articulating an ideological disagreement with Megatron's conclusion; he thinks that Megatron accepting he has to die because there's no point trying to do anything about it is a cheat. Cowards' way out and all that.

This reintroduces Rodimus into the parts of the comic that are now mostly being progressed through Megatron's arc because now all of that is Rodimus' fault. He's the one who decided to save Megatron when he didn't have to, and any further consequences aren't just the consequences of Megatron trying to deal with what he's done and how it continues to impact everyone; they're also the result of Rodimus' decision to save him when he didn't have to. It also means that there's now a clear thematic concept being explored in the space between these two characters and how they differ. What does accountability look like? What does punishment look like? What investment do these characters have in those concepts? These are now disagreements that can not only fuel the panel-to-panel petty conflicts between these two characters, but their actual arcs. You can draw much stronger parallels between them than just 'this one's hotheaded and rash, and this one's not, and they are Bickering', which can drive individual character interactions but not the actual wider ideas the comic wants to engage with.

It opens up a lot of narrative space for these two characters to align their personal arcs in a way that engages what is at this point driving the overall plot forward, and it therefore allows them to both occupy that walking-inciting-incident position as opposed to just being like. Well I Guess Megatron Is The Protagonist Now. Their relationship becomes a central argument about what the comic is about that they can embody and express together, and conflict over whether the right choice was made can push them through the upcoming story beats.

Overall, MTMTE has an issue where it wants Megatron and Rodimus to be foils but can't actually find a place where they are outside the surface level. But they are both characters whose arcs are about being gigantic fuck ups and living with it, so the material like... exists! The text is there if you massage it right! And that's why I think they should have been even more dysfunctional. Megatron would be sooo mad Rodimus ruined his big death scene, and if nothing else, can we all please agree that would have been really funny.

#there. you're not allowed to say i don't ever write megatron meta now. #i wrote you one (1). #idw #meta #megatron #rodimus

[lawsend]

Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 1

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here. I've just borrowed the names).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,524

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

A/N: Thanks to @harleybeaumont and @karahalloway for prereading and bouncing ideas with me.

“Riley! Riley! Come here!”

Riley Brook’s head jerked up from the keyboard she’d been furiously typing on, her lush auburn brown curls bouncing freely, her deep emerald eyes wide. Her gaze darted from the source of the interruption, who was standing on the other side of the room waving his arms at her, to the coworker sitting at the desk across from her who looked completely disinterested as he lifted a shoulder and brought a sandwich to his mouth, lettuce and mayonnaise falling onto his desk.

Gross. That’s what the break room was for.

She carefully closed the lid of her laptop before walking across the newsroom. Goddamn if she was going to let any of these vultures scoop her story or copy her work.

“What’s up, Max?” she asked as she approached the over-exuberant freelance photographer who often hung around the office.

His cobalt blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he ran a hand through his short, russet brown waves and practically danced in place, “You told me to tell you if anything interesting came across the police scanner!”

Riley grabbed his arm, her fingers sinking in almost painfully as she glanced around the newsroom in panic. Dragging him into the empty breakroom, she glared at him, “Keep it down! It’s not a scoop if everyone knows!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, “The seventh precinct was just called out to investigate a homicide!”

“The seventh precinct?” Her eyes widened, “That’s Liam’s beat! Did you get the address?”

“Of course!” He dangled the keys to his midnight blue Chevy Tahoe in front of her, “We can take my car!”

She deftly swiped the keys right out of his hand, “Fine. But I’m driving!”

“But-“ he tried to protest but she was already striding for the door. He quickly gathered his equipment bag and stumbled after her.

Sliding into the passenger seat of his own vehicle, he glanced over at the woman in the driver’s seat, “It’s my car, Riley…”

“Don’t be a baby,” she admonished him as she put the car in gear and flew out of the parking garage, “Besides, I like to be in control.”

“Yeah….” His eyes tracked across her face then dipped down her body, a flush creeping across his cheeks before he turned toward the window, “Just try not to sideswipe anyone this time.”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“Which time?”

“Any of them!”

Max wrapped his hand around the grab handle above the window and held on for dear life as the Tahoe careened around a corner, “You know the murder victim isn’t going anywhere, right?”

“I want to get there before that asshole Neville! He’s not scooping me again!”

“Okay….” Max squeezed his eyes shut and said a quick prayer as his vehicle jolted over a curb.

The Tahoe skidded to a stop in front of the Vista Heights apartment complex. Riley hopped out and made a beeline for the crime scene.

“Are we really going to just leave her in the middle of the street like that?” Max yelled after her.

Riley answered him over her shoulder without slowing down, “No one’s going to tow it right now. The cops have bigger fish to fry. Come on!”

He hesitated only briefly before grabbing his camera and scurrying after her. He glanced back at the SUV doubtfully, but the sight of Riley’s retreating back spurred him on. He could always bail out a towed vehicle. Riley never waited for anyone or anything.

He kind of liked that about her.

By the time he caught up to her, she was leaning over the caution tape as she tried to get anyone’s attention, “Excuse me? Excuse me?”

“Stay behind the tape!” a uniformed officer yelled at her.

“I know that…” she muttered as her eyes scanned the area until she spotted a familiar face, “Liam! Liam!”

Detective Liam Rys turned his gaze toward the crowd as a voice he knew all too well screamed his name. Shaking his head, he strode over to the caution tape with his lips pressed firmly together, “I’m at work, Miss Brooks. How can I help you?”

“Sorry, detective,” she gave him a look that was half repentant and half teasing, “I was wondering if I could get a comment, or at least the name of the victim.”

“You know better than that, Riley. This is an active crime scene.” There was a slight edge in his voice as his eyes flicked over her shoulder to take in Max as well, “You both need to get out of here. Wait for the press release, like everyone else.”

Riley tipped her head back to look up into his face. At five foot seven, she was tall for a woman, but he had a couple of inches on her. The tailored suit he was wearing fit him perfectly and gave away his family background of wealth and privilege. He wasn’t buying Armani suits on a detective’s salary. His raven hair was cut short, not quite military short, but close. His onyx eyes held several emotions, the primary of which was annoyance.

“Are you still mad?”

“I was never mad, Riley,” he glanced at Max then leaned forward so only she could hear him. His breath tickled her ear, “But fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I’m not falling for your tricks a second time.”

Goose bumps cascaded down her spine at the  memory, “It wasn’t a trick, Liam.”

“Hm,” he pulled back with a smirk, “Right. That’s why my case ended up on the front page of the Cordonia City Ledger the next day.”

“Coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences so move along.”

“But-“ she watched his retreating back with a frustrated exhale.

Max’s gaze swung from Riley to Liam then back again, “Whatever happened between the two of you anyway?”

Riley shrugged, “Nothing that wasn’t mutually beneficial.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning none of your business!”

“I was just-“

“Max, look!” she punched him in the arm as the body was wheeled out and loaded into the back of an ambulance.

Max brought the Canon EOS Rebel up and started clicking furiously.

Riley’s eyes swept around the crime scene, looking for anything that would help her identify the victim.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? If it isn’t the scruffy underdog and her mangy sidekick.” The voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

Riley turned with disdain toward the biggest pain in her ass. Neville VanCoeur, the highest-ranking journalist at their rival publication, The Cordonia City Herald. He had curly, dirty blonde hair that he kept gelled so thickly to his head a hurricane wouldn’t move it an inch. His face was fixed in a permanent sneer unless he was on camera, and he’d had it out for her since day one.

Probably because she’d turned down both his sexual advances and his job offer. “Scruffy underdog isn’t the insult you think it is, Johnny Bravo.”

Max erupted into gales of laughter as Neville stiffened, “Who is Johny Bravo?” he sneered, making Max laugh even harder.

“Your long-lost twin, ass wipe,” Riley smirked at him before turning her back to scan the crowd, looking for a neighbor that might talk.

Neville’s response was lost as Riley made her way through the throng of onlookers, hoping for anyone that knew which apartment the murder had occurred in. No one knew anything.

She stomped her foot on the ground in frustration as her eyes fell on the spot the ambulance had been. “Hey, Max, I have an idea!”

Max listened and a mischievous grin spread across his face, “I’m on it!”

He quickly found Neville’s photographer and sidled up to him, “Dude! There’s a delivery entrance open around back! I got some amazing shots!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Why would you tell me this?”

“Oh, am I not supposed to?” Max acted startled, “I’m new at this. I thought we all helped each other out like that! Isn’t that how it works?”

“Sure, kid. That’s how we do it,” the guy gloated, “Thanks for the tip!”

Max watched the photographer whisper to Neville who looked gleefully around before sneaking around the parking lot to the back of the building. He gave Riley a thumbs up.

Riley waited for Max’s signal, then found a uniformed police officer, “I’m sorry to interrupt but I just saw that reporter go around back. Aren’t they supposed to stay on this side of the caution tape?”

“Yes,” the man was obviously annoyed, “Thank you ma’am, we’ll take care of it.”

“Any time, officer,” she smiled disarmingly at him.

Riley and Max ran back to the Tahoe, giggling the whole way.

“That should keep him busy for a while!” She laughed as she climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“So, we can get to the coroner’s office first, I presume?”

“Of course!” She started the car and threw it in reverse.

“Be careful with Estelle!” Max yelled at her as the car went up onto the sidewalk.

“Sorry, sorry!” She put it in drive and made her way carefully away from the crime scene. Curbs were one thing, she didn’t want to hit a pedestrian, and the street was now full of onlookers.

They drove in silence until they were clear of the crowd. Max relaxed into his seat with relief, but it was short lived as Riley gunned it the moment they were back on open road.

“Jesus, Riley! I want to get to the coroner’s office as a photographer, not a body!”

“Have I ever killed you before?”

“No…but there’s a first time for everything!”

Riley was quiet for a moment, then her tone turned serious, “Can I ask you something?”

Max’s face lit up at what he thought was a change of subject, “Sure Riley, you can ask me anything!”

“So, I’ve been wondering….Why did you name your car Estelle? That’s an old lady’s name, isn’t it?” She took her eyes briefly from the road as he answered.

Max gave her a flirty wink, “I like older women.”

Riley rolled her eyes as she returned them to the road, “Grandma old?”

Max’s face fell, “No…no, that’s not what I meant!”

“How old are you, Max? Twenty? Twenty-one?”

“I’m twenty-three, Riley. I’m a grown ass man.”

“Sure you are.”

“I’m only five years younger than you, you know.”

“Only,” she snorted, “Five years is an entire college career and then some.”

Max let out a frustrated exhale as he shifted in his seat, “Whatever.”

They pulled up in front of a small, nondescript building situated behind a UPS hub and across from a warehouse in the industrial district. It was a squat, one story structure made of faded brown brick with a row of tiny windows stretched across the front and a red windowless door in the middle. Actually, the door was just off center, a detail made her want to knock it down with a wrecking ball.

“This building is depressing,” Max muttered as he climbed out of the Tahoe.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true!”

“Considering what it is, that seems appropriate,” Riley responded as she made her way into the building and down the hall to the morgue, bypassing the reception desk which was thankfully empty.

“Come in!” a voice called in response to her knock.

“Hey, Dr. Lee!” Riley greeted the woman with the lab coat.

“I told you to call me Hana,” the doctor was shorter than Riley, with warm caramel colored hair falling to her shoulders, deep brown eyes and an upturned nose.

“Sorry…Hana…I was wondering if you knew anything about the murder at the Vista Heights apartment complex earlier today.”

“Just brought him in,” Hana swept her hand toward the body on the table, “the cause of death seems obvious, but you never know. All homicide victims are autopsied, as you know.”

“Who is he?” Riley craned her neck trying to get a better look. The man on the table looked to be in his mid to late forties with jet-black hair and sharp features.

Max hung back near the door. He had no desire to see the dead body.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Hana admonished.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Riley shot Max a meaningful look, her eyes darting from his to a manila folder laying on Hana’s desk, before stepping closer to the other woman. With a slight pout, she reached out and rubbed a hand down her upper arm, “Forgive me?”

Hana flushed slightly as a shy smile spread across her face, “It’s fine, I know you’re just doing your job.”

“And you’re just doing yours. I respect that.” Riley’s eyes flicked over Hana’s shoulder as Max closed the folder and gave her a thumbs up. “You said the cause of death was obvious?”

Hana hesitated, “I really shouldn’t say…” 

“I promise to keep your name out of it.”

“I mean…it’s going to be out there soon enough anyway. I don’t think it’s a huge secret that gunshots were fired just prior to 911 being called. That’s all I can really say.”

“Thank you!!” Riley knew about the gunshots because Max had heard that much on the police scanner. It was nice to have confirmation though. “We’ll let you get back to work!”

“Riley?”

She paused on her way to the door, “Yeah?”

“Are you going to be at the bar later?”

“The Beat?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Of course!” she grinned, “There’s been a murder! Where else would I be but the bar all the cops hang out at?”

“Okay, maybe I’ll see you there.”

“That would be awesome!” Riley gave her a wave then exited the room. The moment they were back in the car, Riley turned to Max and demanded, “Well?”

“Well, the victim’s name was Trenton Hayes, he was shot dead in his apartment.”

“Trenton Hayes…Trenton Hayes…” she searched her memory, “Isn’t he some kind of wall street tycoon?”

“Yeah, I don’t really keep up with that type of stuff.”

“Really?” Surprise pulled through her, “You’re a Beaumont.”

“Not a very good one,” he laughed humorlessly, “My contribution to the family empire consists of spending the money…”

“Okay….” She didn’t know what to say to that. She smacked him on the shoulder as she drove, “Well, look the guy up!”

“I am!” He swatted her hand away as he typed into his phone, “Oh, shit! I’ve seen this guy before!”

“Really? Where?”

“I took pictures of him for this PI I work with sometimes.”

“What? Why?”     

Max shrugged, “I don’t know. He pays me to take photos sometimes, or hack into shit. I wasn’t following the guy; I was following the woman he met with!”

“Who was the woman?”

“Katie Sloan.”

“Wait! The wife of William Sloan? As in, the head of Sloan Enterprises?”

“Yeah, that’s the one!”

“Holy fucking shit! Who is this PI? We’re going to talk to him right now!”

“Walker and Son Investigations, it’s on Canal Street.”

“Hold on!” She yelled as she yanked the wheel and skidded into a U-turn, “Canal Street, here we come!”

#trr au #writeblr #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr fandom #trr fanfic #the royal romance #no canon #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #trr au fanfic #crime drama #angelasscribbles #Law's End #laws end #cordonia city

[anaid-queen]

"This time, I won't save your life."

aka Thoughts on hints of Daniel being turned against his will

[note: there are no explicit hints, but there has been talk he'll be turned "soon" and that Armand will physically fight him, which i can't imagine him doing with his fragile human boy. so....!]

i have thoughts. on Armand and Daniel, and on Armand and Louis and all his lies coming back to haunt him. i suck at actually completing (and not just drafting) fic but. i have THOUGHTS. fic idea under the cut!!

("This time, I won't save your life", he said. like a lying liar who lies.)

Louis finally broke through all of Armand's mind blocks. Louis found out Armand had KEPT LESTAT IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT FOR DECADES [The Groan Theory]. Louis turns on Armand with the fury of a thousand suns, you killed my daughter you maimed the love of my life my husband YOU MADE ME FORGET ALL OF THIS. YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!! picture a Louis HELL-BENT on vengeance.

and then.

Louis' eyes suddenly shift to Daniel. and he's a FRACTION faster than Armand and picks him up.

by the throat.

and straight-up smashes him through a window and dangles him there, fuck only knows how many meters above the ground.

Armand pleads with him…. when nothing helps, he falls to his knees. picture Armand BREAKING.

picture Louis trying, so so hard, to hold onto his anger as some part of his DEAR heart (bless his good heart like god damn, he's got so much anger and darkness but he's got so much GOOD in him too) wants to balk. doesn't actually WANT to give pain for pain.

he knows this is the only way he has to hurt Armand back.

he wants to hurt Armand. he's a MONSTER. HE DESERVES IT.

Armand manipulated him from the very start -

but Armand isn't manipulating him now. isn't even trying. not even a small mental push. he's just on his knees. pleading. "Not Danny…."

Louis' mouth sets in a hard line.

any moment he's gonna drop him.

(much longer, and Daniel's dead anyway, he's been holding his throat way too tight. there's glass shards in his hair (in his head?), he's got a concussion at the very least. Louis' claws have already torn into him.)

silent tears roll down Armand's face. even his whispered "please" is silent, now.

Louis balls his fist, claws ripping Daniel's windpipe right out, and throws him on the penthouse floor. then he runs out of the room, vamp-speed. (to Lestat.)

Armand doesn't even see him go, he screams as he falls to Daniel's side.

(sound cuts, only music over Armand's weeping and wailing. over Armand's heaving chest as he stares at Daniel, bleeding out. eyes already empty, so close to dead. so so close. Armand tears into what's left of his throat and drinks.)

cut to: a scene in complete silence, save for the steady beeping that gives a hospital atmosphere, though this can't be anywhere but the penthouse. camera pans through a white minimalist room. Armand comes into frame, sitting on a chair, staring at something (someone?) just off-screen. eyes hollow, face unreadable. camera slowly pans down. there is a needle in his arm, and the tube is running red.

[CUT TO CREDITS]

#biting maiming etc. etc. (no pun intended) #i love them a normal amount your honor [<- biggest lie ever told] #armandiel #armand x daniel #devil's minion #interview with the vampire

[hannahmanderr]

gray ghost- who said that

part 1 ~ part 2 ~ part 3

this part references my one-shot Glow. you don't need to have read it for this to make sense, but some... certain concepts will be used ;)

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

The night was cold. One of the coldest in a while, if Danny's memory served him right.

He didn't mind. He was better suited for the cold anyway.

Plus, if he started shaking, he could blame it on the cold.

A fresh, untouched blanket of snow reflected the light of the full moon with millions of tiny sparkles. The breeze blew gently across his face, ruffling strands of white hair. Every breath he drew was full with the crisp promise of a long winter's night, as if time itself could be frozen just like the earth and rain and he was floating in that one eternal moment.

All in all, the perfect kind of night, made even more perfect by the young woman sitting beside him on her floating hoverboard.

Valerie's legs dangled off the edge of the board, kicking and stirring up loose powder below her feet. Her helmet sat beside her, and thus her hair flowed freely in the gentle wind. The moon's glow cast an angelic halo of light around her, illuminating her from above and making Danny's mouth run dry.

Oh Ancients, what am I thinking?

"How much longer did you want to stay out tonight?" Valerie asked, breaking the mesmerizing spell of the scene. "I was hoping to ask your parents something before heading home."

Danny's teeth scraped his bottom lip. "A bit longer?" He hated how it came out sounding like a question. Hated it. "It's just - you know, it's a really nice night out, I'm kind of enjoying the quiet for once." He snorted. "Makes me think Jazz had the right idea moving out and never coming back."

"Yeah, yeah, you love the cold, everyone knows it," Valerie drawled, looking at her watch. "Some of us are still warm-blooded, you know."

"If you're that cold, just put your helmet back on. Didn't Mom and Dad help you fix the ventilation problem with the heater?"

"Yeah, a few weeks ago." She flicked something off of her thigh. "I'd just rather not have it on right now."

Danny watched her carefully. Valerie had taken to letting her hair out the back of her helmet sometime during their senior year of high school, but lately, she'd been wearing it less and less often. His stomach apparently couldn't decide if he was alarmed by the idea or if he loved being able to see her face even better during patrols.

He shrugged. "Don't say I didn't tell you, then," he teased.

He could practically hear her eyes roll. "Believe me, I know I'll be hearing about it later." She checked her watch again. "You were in such a hurry earlier with the patrol, were you seriously rushing through it just so you could take your sweet time and dawdle in the cold?"

Danny's core froze, and he cursed the fact that his green ectoplasm so easily betrayed his blush in this form.

Okay, so maybe he had been pushing the patrol along earlier, and maybe they had been hanging out here, floating at the top of the hill overlooking Amity Park where the snow still remained untouched, for a lot longer than he'd originally intended. Could he really be blamed, though? Everything had to happen perfectly tonight. No tardiness allowed.

I swear, if they don't show up on time...

Valerie sighed and climbed back into a standing position on her board. "Come on, let's just go home. I seriously want to catch your parents before they head to bed."

"What? Whoa whoa, wait!" In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her. "I-I thought we were having a nice time! C'mon, just a little longer?"

"One, you sound like a toddler wanting to stay up past his bedtime. Two, we are having a nice night, but it's getting late, and I really need to get to your place. There will be other nice nights, you know?"

Danny's panic began to escalate. "Yeah, but - but not this one! What if I don't get another chance?"

He snapped his mouth shut as soon as Valerie's eyebrow arched at his words. "Chance for what?" she asked slowly.

Way to go, Fenton.

"Okay, okay, just..." He inhaled deeply and, behind his back, began to fish around in his Pocket (affectionately named by Tucker back when they'd first discovered the personal pocket dimension attached to Danny). "I was waiting for... something, but I can do it now, I mean it won't be the same at all, but if getting back home is a problem I can definitely do it now, I think, and -"

Valerie held up a hand. Though she frowned, humor danced in the moonlight reflecting off her eyes. "You're rambling again."

Danny squeaked as his face flushed green again. "Sorry! I'm just -" He cut himself off to inhale deeply again. "Okay. Okay. Backing up."

His fingers closed around a tiny box, and ever so carefully, he pulled it out of the Pocket. Breathe, Fenton.

"We've known each other for a long time," he began, and he immediately cringed. Ancients, could you have started off more stereotypical?

Valerie's eyebrow twitched, but she said nothing.

He ran his thumb over the fine texture of the box. "Okay, so when we first met, we definitely got off on the wrong foot. Running into you and ruining your shirt... then losing your dad his job... I mean it's no wonder you hated me for so long."

Her face softened. "What are you talking about? I thought we were past all that? Did something happen?"

"No, no! Nothing like that!" I should've taken Dad's notecards when he offered them! "It's just like, you know, ten years ago or however long it's been, when we were freshmen, no one would've pegged us as the kind of people to end up together."

"Yeah, although that was mostly because you had that thing for Manson, and she was making googly eyes at you every five seconds."

Danny's eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head from how wide they opened. This time, he felt the cool rush of his blush reach to the tips of his ears and down past his collarbone.

Oh God, abort abort ABORT!

"It wasn't like that!" That is the exact opposite of aborting! "I - uh, we, it got worked out! And Sam got herself figured out and everything! She and Paulina celebrated the new year in Paris, last I heard..."

Valerie sighed again, but her eyes wrinkled in concern rather than frustration. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... distracted."

"No! I mean, yes! Er, I'm not distracted, I'm just..." His grip on the box loosened just slightly. Change tactics, Fenton. "You're... really important to me, you know?"

A crooked smile spread across her face. "Well, I certainly hope so," she said, with a little laugh. "I feel like I'm kind of entitled to that."

Danny perked back up. Not all the way, but the spark of hope that this whole endeavor was still salvageable had reignited.

Somewhat.

"You are! You totally are! You deserve that from me!" His tail twitched anxiously. "You deserve... so much more from me."

Her smile disappeared. "What do you mean? You're not... what?"

His eyes widened again. "I'm not about to break up with you or anything! I'm -"

A familiar chill ran up his spine and into his throat, leaving in a wisp of fine, blue mist.

Any other night, he would've cursed the interruption, but tonight, especially with how poorly this was turning out, he sagged with relief. Finally! It's about time they showed up!

Maybe some part of this could actually be sal-

"AHA! SO, YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE YOUR BOX FROM ME?"

The words that left Danny's mouth were a) very much not English and b) some that Mom would not hesitate to wash his mouth out with ecto-soap if she knew what they meant.

Valerie, to her credit, didn't even flinch. Years of both a softening attitude towards ghosts in general and an impressive patience for the Box Ghost's shenanigans had done wonders. "I have no idea what box you're talking about," she began slowly. A built up patience did not mean she wasn't above glaring daggers at him. "If you didn't notice, we're kind of in the middle of something here? And I think Danny was just about to explain himself before I drag him home and make him explain himself." She directed her last sentence to the ghost (no longer a) boy in question.

Danny grinned sheepishly and threw his hands up in front of him in surrender. "I was gonna explain, I swear!"

He realized far too late that that had possibly been the dumbest mistake he could make.

"Ah!" the Box Ghost cried gleefully. As he extended a glowing hand, Danny whipped around to find the box he'd inadvertently let go of, only to watch as the same glow that surrounded the Box Ghost's hand engulfed it.

"Hey!" He made a desperate dive to catch the box, but the Box Ghost's telekinesis was too fast. Before Danny could blink, the ghost had floated it into his hands and started cradling it lovingly.

"Oooh, you have A FINE TASTE IN BOXES, GHOST CHILD!" he said. "A premium black faux leather Kensington Jeweler's ring box? From... 1988? No, wait!" He held it right up underneath his nose and inhaled loudly. "1989! Eheehehehee, WHAT A FINE ADDITION TO MY COLLECTION!"

Danny saw green.

"Don't you dare!" he roared, launching himself at the Box Ghost. He was barely aware of Valerie shouting his name or the Box Ghost's panicked yelp.

He had to get that box back.

Somehow, Valerie beat him to the punch. Quite literally, in fact. He managed to pull up just short of colliding into her as she delivered a killer right hook to the Box Ghost's jaw. The ghost was flung backward, but somehow maintained his grip on the box. She didn't waste any time taking off after him again, stirring up a huge cloud of snow in her wake. Danny could only blink snow out of his eyes and watch her give chase to the now-fleeing Box Ghost.

Ancients, I love that woman.

He moved to fly after the two (how could he let her have all the fun?), but was stopped by yet another chill and burst of blue mist.

"Are you kidding me?" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "I swear, I ask you all to just leave me alone for one night, and you make it your personal mission to see who can tick me off the most!"

Green ectoplasm sparked to life around his fist, and he turned, ready to give whatever ghost had decided to ruin his night even more a piece of his mind.

Instead, he found himself pulling up short again as he came face to face with a large blob ghost.

Danny blinked, trying to refocus his eyes to see the ghost floating inches from his nose. "Bingus?"

The blob, who was indeed Bingus, let out a low purr and attached himself to Danny's face.

Danny began swatting at his face. "Pleh, pleh! C'mon, really? You got in my mouth!"

In response, Bingus simply purred louder.

By the time Danny managed to pry the blob off of his head, half a dozen more of Bingus' kin had bumped up against him and were attempting to cuddle their favorite resident half-ghost. Still more blob ghosts approached from the bottom of the hill, all chirping and twittering away.

"Finally!" Danny rubbed Jeff affectionately (in an attempt to keep him from attaching to his face as well). "You guys have no idea how happy I am to see you! Well, maybe you do, since you guys feed off of emotion, but still!"

In total, there had to have been at least two dozen blob ghosts. All of the members of the Nasty Clan had shown up, plus many of the blobs that lived in the FentonWorks. Some that lived in the park had decided to tag along as well. They wouldn't necessarily know what to do, Danny realized, but maybe the more the merrier?

A shout from the Box Ghost shook him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Valerie hot on his heels, her hair billowing behind her in the wind, green eyes alight with fury and reflecting the bright fuchsia of the gun charging up in her hand.

Danny's mouth ran dry. How was it that they'd been dating for years and still just the sight of her was enough to make his heart and core melt?

"I'm the luckiest guy on earth," he said to the horde of blob ghosts surrounding him.

"What?" Valerie shouted, glancing back at him. "What the heck are you doing? Aren't you gonna get in on this?"

He almost grinned back at her, almost told her it seemed like she had it well under control, but as the Box Ghost sped by him, he remembered just what had been stolen from him.

"Hang tight, guys," he told the blob ghosts, turning to glance at them quickly.

Rather, it appeared he told the empty air around him.

"What?" His head snapped back around in time to see a sight he didn't think he could ever forget.

Every single one of the blob ghosts had joined in the chase and had decided to completely swarm the poor Box Ghost. A cacophony of chitters and chirps filled the cold night air as one by one, they began to catch up to the Box Ghost and latch themselves onto him. Ketchup and Pepperoni, from the Nasty Clan, each glommed onto a shoulder. Jeff settled on the Box Ghost's right knee. Gibby, who had come from the FentonWorks, attached himself to his stomach. Tiny Pipp, who was too little to latch on enough to hinder the Box Ghost, had elected to fling herself repeatedly at his eyes.

"HEY! WHO DARES ATTACK THE ALL-POWERFUL BOX GHOST?" he shouted, trying to shoo Pipp away and very much failing as more and more blobs began to attach on and flatten themselves out. In a matter of less than a minute, they had successfully wrapped themselves into a sticky, tight cocoon around him, stopping him in midair.

Danny stifled a fit of giggles through his fingers. One look at Valerie, who had also apparently been stunned by the sight of the assault of the blobs, told him she was struggling to do the same. Seeing her try and fail to keep her laughter in only made his own laughter that much harder to keep in.

The Box Ghost had not quite given up. "I COMMAND YOU TO RELEASE ME!" he hollered. "NO ONE CAN CONTAIN A GHOST AS TERRIFYING AS ME!"

"Maybe you should've thought about that before trying to steal from me," Danny said through his giggles, drifting closer. Carefully, he turned his hand intangible and reached through the layer of blob ghosts to pluck the box out of the Box Ghost's hold. A quick peek inside calmed his racing core. Nothing inside appeared to be damaged.

"Um, excuse me? I'm the one who put the effort in to catch him." Valerie pulled up next to Danny, her arms crossed. "You don't get to act like you've done anything."

Danny grinned and bowed out of the way. "By all means, my lady. Have at it."

She rolled her eyes but smiled as she grabbed the thermos attached to her hip. "On the count of three, guys," she instructed the blob ghosts.

One flash of light later had the Box Ghost secured away and the blob ghosts now swarming both Valerie and Danny.

"Okay, take it easy now," she laughed. "There's a lot of stuff in this suit that could hurt you, you know that."

"How come they listen to you?" Danny whined. Bingus had again assumed his spot on Danny's head, and the half-ghost was once again struggling to pry him off, especially while trying to maintain his hold on the box this time around.

"Hmm. I guess they just like me better." She snickered at him and allowed Pepperoni to nuzzle up to her cheek. "Besides, I think they know you're still hiding something from me."

And just like that, Danny's core froze. "I, uh... What? I'm not hiding something, I mean not like hiding something, I swear I was gonna tell you! I was just waiting for the right time, and - and -"

"Danny."

Valerie had said his name hundreds, thousands of times before. She'd said it in the throes of battle, with an urgency and a fire that always had him springing into action. She'd said it on the nights when neither of them wanted to go home, not wanting to take their hands or their lips off the other, with the comforting weight of finding his home in her arms as she whispered in his ear. She'd said it during the moments he'd rather forget, when she spat it with vitriol or heaved it up in a sob or wrenched it from her heart in a fit of anguish. If she'd said his name a thousand times, he'd heard it in a thousand ways, each echoing endlessly in his heart.

This time, when his name fell from her lips, it carried with it a pull like none he'd heard before. One that tugged at the strings of his heart and core. One that wrapped around him and held him close and left him defenseless. One that soothed every fear, every anxiety, every doubt.

One that held the purest love, the kind that could not be contained by Earth or the Infinite Realms or the endless expanse of stars twinkling in the sky above them.

Wordlessly, he sank down until he knelt in the snow. He was only vaguely aware of Bingus and the other blobs slowly peeling themselves off his body, still hovering around him in anticipation.

The transformation came almost unwillingly, as simple as lifting a finger or winking an eye, and when the light cleared, Danny Fenton was left, kneeling in the moonlight and laying down every defense before the love of his life.

Valerie watched him, her face cautious and tempered by the knowing look in her eye. She too drifted down and, in one seamless movement, retracted her board and suit. She landed soundlessly, gracefully, and dropped to her knees.

For a moment, nothing but the gentle wind could be heard as they knelt there, in the snow, under the silvery light of the moon and stars and the soft green glow of the blob ghosts, each baring their fullest self to the other.

Danny ran his thumbs back and forth over the tiny box, unable to look up and meet Valerie's eyes. "I messed up," he whispered. "Things... weren't supposed to happen like this."

"Hey." Ever so tenderly, she laid her hands over his. "You didn't mess anything up. You can't control someone like the Box Ghost," she said with a nervous laugh.

"I don't just mean with... with this," he said, squeezing the box tightly. "Like... don't you remember the last time we were like this?" He gestured to themselves, sitting knee to knee, then to the blob ghosts watching in earnest.

"How could I not? That was our first kiss... when we first got together."

"Yeah, and I took you behind the dumpsters at the Nasty Burger. The dumpsters! I mean, what was I thinking? Trying to impress you there of all places?"

"You were introducing me to these guys!" Valerie took one of her hands to pet Pepsi, who had decided to assert a place for herself on Valerie's lap. "That's where they live! It's not like you were trying to take me on an actual date there."

"And then when I tried to ask you to prom," Danny continued. He'd heard Valerie, of course, but his anxieties were returning like a tidal wave, and he was powerless to stop them. "That was straight up a disaster! You were washing goop out of your hair for a week!"

"Yeah, but it all came out eventually, and -"

"Or the anniversary date I tried to plan last year? I told Walker that I was gonna take you to the Tamed Lake, and he even said it was okay, but no, he still had to ambush us and ruin the whole day for no other reason than to screw with us!"

"Danny, I -"

"And then this whole mess, I - I tried so hard to make it perfect, I managed to convince just about every ghost we know to just leave us alone for one night, except for the Box Ghost of all of them, the one ghost that always manages to squirm his way over here, and -"

"Danny."

"What?" he said, much more snappishly than he meant to. "I - oh."

Sitting in Valerie's free hand was another tiny ring box.

Danny's heart stuttered over the next few beats. His mouth opened and closed, trying to form something, anything, but no sound came out. And finally, finally, he looked up and met Valerie's eyes.

If he hadn't already been half dead, he was sure he would've died on the spot.

Memories of that night so many years ago flashed by as he stared into her eyes, mesmerized by the same tiny galaxies he'd been so taken by even back then. Glimmering lights from the moon and the stars and the blob ghosts around them danced and twirled in an endless display, even in spite of the tears beginning to pool in the corners of her eyes. Everything she could've said in that moment - and thousands of things she couldn't - sparkled right back at him.

"I had plans too, you know," she said quietly, the hint of a smile on her face. "Why did you think I wanted to get back to your place so quickly?"

"I... just figured you really, really wanted to talk to Mom and Dad." Danny's face burned red, but he resisted the urge to turn away.

Valerie laughed. "Sometimes you really are still clueless, Danny."

The corners of his lips twitched upward, but not enough to break into a full smile. "I just... I wanted to really make this special," he said. Tears began to build up in his own eyes. "I wanted to do something worthy of how just... perfect you are, just something so I could at least try to come close to showing you how much I love you and how it's nowhere near to the level you deserve."

"You're such a sap," she said with another laugh, even though her tears had begun to trickle down her cheeks. "You don't need to do anything flashy or grand or perfect to impress me or make me feel loved or whatever you've started to tell yourself. I love you for you. Not for what you can do for me. This..." She looked up and around at the night sky and the blob ghosts still watching them closely. "This is more than enough. This is already perfect. And you, you are... you're perfect too. You're perfect for me."

Danny sniffled, and a smile finally bloomed on his face. "And you call me a sap. You're the one calling this perfect while you're sitting in the snow getting all wet and cold."

Valerie shook her head as she too sniffled. "If that makes you feel better. Either way, you can't run from the truth."

He giggled, and silently, as if reading each other's mind, they both leaned forward until their foreheads rested against each other.

Danny closed his eyes and inhaled a lungful of the cold night air. Yes, if he thought about it, about where he was and who he was with and just how overwhelmingly he wanted to simply exist in her presence, forever and ever, he could see how this was perfect on its own.

"You know," he started, no louder than a whisper. They were so close now; he didn't want to break the spell. "I told the blobs to come for a reason."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I taught them something I was gonna show you, you know, to go with the actual question." He opened his eyes. "Do you... want to see?"

Much to his surprise, she pulled away, leaving him stunned and blinking helplessly.

"Oh no," she scolded. "Don't even think about trying to sneak in first, Fenton. If you think I'm just gonna sit here all ready to ask you while you put on your little show so you can ask me first, then you are sorely mistaken."

"What?" He blinked again. "I wasn't - what? Whoa, whoa wait, who said you got to ask first?"

"Come on, did you really expect me to just sit back and let you do all the fun stuff? I've worked for this too, you know!"

"Okay, the key word there is 'too.' I've spent so long trying to work up the guts to finally do this, you can't do this to me!"

Valerie laughed again. "Well, if it's taken you this long... I might be willing to meet in the middle."

"What, like... ask at the same time?" Danny tilted his head. "Is that allowed?"

"Who cares?" She squeezed his hand. "We make the rules for ourselves. From now on, yeah? We can do it together."

The tears returned to his eyes. Coherent thoughts had all but left him, leaving little more than the overpowering love consuming him inside and out. "Yeah," he said, nodding eagerly. "Together. But first..."

With what little sensibility he had left, he tugged one of his hands free and raised it to his mouth to whistle. The sound was imperceptible to humans, but to other ghosts...

The effect was instantaneous. The blobs perked up and began to rush around, arranging themselves.

Valerie watched them in awe. "What are they doing?"

But Danny was too busy grinning wildly to answer. Instead, he focused in on the warmth in his heart, the overwhelming love, and, in one burst, released it out into the air. The blob ghosts, still finalizing their formation, ate the emotion up greedily, glowing brighter and brighter as they fed off of the sheer strength of Danny's love.

"There's a place in the Ghost Zone," he began to explain, excitement unbridled in his voice. "It's so far out there. Almost to the edge of what's known of the Realms. Very few ghosts have ever even heard of it, let alone seen it with their own eyes. There's not a lot of ectoplasm out there, so it can be dangerous for someone to go out there.

"But Clockwork told me about it one day, and I wanted to see it. I needed to see it. And so I went. Apparently, it's a lot easier for a half-ghost like me to travel that far away from the stable sources of ectoplasm. I guess it makes sense now, but you should've seen the look on Frostbite's face when I told him how far I'd gone. He was horrified. Made me sit down for a checkup right then and there.

"But Ancients, Val..." He sighed wistfully. "It was the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It was like... like being up in space without actually going there. Just this endless void filled with stars, as far as I could see. I could fly among them and just exist there, and in some ways it felt even more special than space because this... Well, tons of people have seen the stars in space, even if it's only been through pictures or telescopes. But me, I might be the only one in recent times to see those stars and really get to enjoy them. Just me..."

"You should've taken me," she said, still looking up at the blob ghosts, who had settled in a strange, sporadic array. "I don't need the ectoplasm, you know?"

Danny winced. "I don't know if there was any oxygen or anything out there is the thing. And I know your suit could've handled it, but not without a source of ectoplasm to draw on. I'm sorry, we probably could've figured something out, and maybe we still can, but for now..."

He swept his arm up and to the horde of blob ghosts. "One of the great things about being the first to discover something is you get to name things. And so many new stars, all the constellations... I've started mapping them. And this one, the one that they're making right now, it's the first one I ever mapped." He looked back at Valerie, and another wave of adoration cascaded over him. "I named it after you."

She jerked her head down to stare right at him. "Danny..." she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks again. "You..."

"But these stars will never compare to the real thing," he continued. "I could have every star in the sky and the Realms and they would still pale in comparison to you. This constellation... It doesn't even begin to come close to how amazing you are and just how much you mean to me. You outshine them all, and every day I just wonder how on earth I got to be so lucky." He inhaled shakily. "Valerie Nicole Gray, I love you with every bit of my heart and core. However many stars I still have to find, I love you more than all of them. You're the only star that truly lights my sky."

Valerie shook her head again, unable to contain her tears or her smile. Danny didn't mind; he knew he looked the exact same way.

"And you, Daniel James Fenton," she finally said, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you with all my heart. I will go to the ends of the Earth and the Infinite Realms to find you and be with you. I won't let anything stand in our way. I'll catch any star for you, no matter what it takes. There is nothing you can do, no one you can be that will make me stop loving you."

Danny could've sworn Clockwork slowed down time to a crawl in that moment. Unable to tear his eyes away from his guiding star, his breathing ragged and heart racing, he slowly raised the box in his hand. Valerie mirrored him.

Without another word between them, their hearts and minds fully in sync, they opened the boxes.

Valerie gasped audibly and tears fell faster when she saw the ring in Danny's box. It truly was a pretty ring, he'd decided weeks ago when Damon first entrusted him with it. The band was a simple gold, set with an oval-shaped ruby. Tiny diamonds surrounded the ruby and formed a halo in the shape of a starburst, twinkling and making the ruby shine a red so stunning and vibrant. Pretty and so very fitting.

"He gave that to you?" she whispered. "I've always... God, Danny, you... I've always wanted to ask Daddy if I could keep it... just... it's beautiful..."

"Nowhere near as pretty as yours." The ring in Valerie's box was a thick, black metal band. Hollowed into the middle of the band was a cluster of blue and purple crystals, dotted with tiny specks of white crystal. The whole thing danced in the light, giving the illusion of a galaxy embedded right into the band.

"Would you believe me if I said Frostbite helped me make it?" she asked, trying and failing to hide a blush with her hair.

"You made this?" He didn't know if his heart could handle the nearly crushing surge of affection he felt in that moment.

She nodded vigorously. "I'll tell you all about it, but you have to put it on first."

His smile felt like it could split his face. "Is that really your way of asking?" he said, unable to resist the opportunity to tease.

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. Her own smile blinded him. "If you'd rather do it the boring way..."

Their eyes locked together. The blob ghosts stilled. Not a sound could be heard other than that of two frantically beating hearts, perfectly in sync with one another. The surrounding glow grew brighter and brighter as the love continued to spill over and into the air.

When they both took a breath, the earth took a breath with them.

And together, they spoke the words to change their lives.

"Will you marry me?"

Danny couldn't be sure exactly what happened next, let alone if he actually managed to say the word "yes" or not. He only knew of the flurry of nodding and crying and the everlasting embrace he found himself wrapped in.

He never wanted to let go.

He only moved when Valerie tapped at his hand and he raised his head from where he'd buried it into her shoulder. She wiggled her arms free enough to take the ring out of her box and, with a smile Danny would never forget for as long as he lived, carefully slid it onto his left ring finger. He beamed down at the ring she'd so lovingly crafted, fitting perfectly on his finger.

He was too overjoyed to be embarrassed as he fumbled with his ring box, taking that ring and slipping it onto her own ring finger. It stood out on her finger, a single star in the sky. Just like her.

He found himself locking eyes with Valerie again. For a moment, he knelt there, drinking in every bit of the moment, from the ambient glow of the blob ghosts to the moonlight shining off of her beautiful hair to the spark of pure love in her endless eyes to the smile that threatened to leave her face to the glimmer of the ring on her finger.

"Valerie," he whispered, unable to say anything more. My fiancee. My star. My only love.

God, I sound like one of Jazz's cheesy romance novels.

He didn't particularly care.

"Danny," she responded in kind. His name carried with it everything unsaid, everything she felt in that moment. Her love touched his heart, and he didn't know if there would ever be a feeling that could even come close to measuring up to the overwhelming emotion he felt when she spoke his name.

He surged forward and found his lips on hers and his arms around her. He'd kissed her hundreds of times before, but this time felt magical, as though the world had stopped around them and everything was simply right and nothing would ever hurt either of them ever again.

He felt invincible in her embrace.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, just existing with one another, before a flash behind his eyelids caught his attention. Slowly, he peeled his eyes open, and when he saw the cause, he broke the kiss, grinning wildly.

"Val," he whispered against her lips. "Look."

She too opened her eyes, watching Danny in confusion before catching sight of what he had seen. He grinned even wider when she gasped.

All around them, the blob ghosts had begun to glow a bright, radiant gold.

"Just like that night," he said, the memories flashing through his mind.

"Just like that night," she echoed. She smiled, and Danny's heart melted. "Absolutely perfect."

She recaptured his lips in another kiss and his eyes fluttered shut.

Yes, he thought. Absolutely perfect.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #valerie gray #gray ghost #ask hannah #ask game #dooshek #whoops my finger slipped #the pacing in this is all off but i was just excited to get this out asdfhkjlfsadhl #anyway the fluff has melted my own heart so i'm gonna go and pass out now /j #thanks for the ask!!

[teecupangel]

After touching the Eye and saving the world from the Solar Flare Desmond passes out and when he wakes up he finds out he turned into something like Medusa with the whole lower body as a snake and snake hair, and of course all the ancestors as the snakes and when I say all I mean e v e r y s i n g l e o n e so now Desmond has to find a way to not get caught by Abstergo while his ancestors are arguing on what to do.

I like Yusuf and I hate his death so depends if you add him (and others who aren't ancestors)

Hi, nonny, might I interest you in a Naga!Desmond AU idea?

Now, let’s talk about how we can make Desmond’s life so much more annoying in this one.

If you want Yusuf in this idea to be alive… we have an easy way to set it up.

So, let’s say that the Solar Flare didn’t just affect Desmond. Sure, he was now a Gorgon (… can we even use that term for a dude?) but the Solar Flare also affected the Animi.

And those who had been using an Animus long enough to start Bleeding.

Abstergo could only count this as some kind of side effect of the Solar Flare and it only affected the people who are being ‘forced’ to relive the lives of their own ancestors.

Anyone playing the Animus gaming console or people working for Abstergo Entertainment to find the next ‘game’?

They were fine.

But the ones hidden in their facility in Madrid…

They had ‘mutated’.

The first sign was that some of their hair would start to fall.

Then it would pop out of their skull, usually at the part where the head and the nape met.

A snake head.

Only those with their own snake heads could understand the words the snake heads would hiss.

And they always think they were the ancestor that the Animus Subject had been reliving.

The Bleeding Effect was more manageable. They kept the skills but the memories and the hallucinations? The memories they gain would only be what they relived, no more sudden memories not part of their Animus session. And the hallucinations were gone.

Instead, the snake now connected to them would talk as if they were the ancestor they had relived themselves and would have even the memories that the subject did not relive.

In this scenario, Cal gets taken in by Sofia Rikkin after he was supposed to be executed and he sees… these ‘monsters’. Sofia tells him that it’s necessary to save humanity but Cal calls her out on her bullshit.

Then he starts to ‘remember’ Aguilar’s skills and his hair starts to fall. The other subjects and their snake companions ‘welcome’ Cal and one of them would be Emir whose snake companion introduces himself as “Yusuf Tazim da Istanbul!”

And when Aguilar wakes up, he tells Cal to fight the memories, the Templars must not know about the Apple.

During the scene where Aguilar is inducted by his ancestors thanks to the Animus glitching (+ the Bleeding Effect), the facility is attacked by an unknown person that many call a monster before dying.

This monster takes down a lot of the guards and ‘researchers’, even managing to lock the entire facility down so no one gets out. The subjects with their snake ancestors reach Cal and they take out the guards and researchers there while the head of security grab Sofia to take her to safety. Before he could, something dangles from the high beams of the Animus room and grabs the head of security and Sofia is almost taken as well but she manages to shake off the head of security’s death grip on her and she fell on the floor, twisting her ankle. There’s a crunching sound before the head of security is dropped to the floor, just next to Sofia who flinches.

Then she froze when she felt the thing above them start to dangle down, slower this time. It dangled behind Sofia and he heard the hissing sounds before he heard the familiar voice of Ezio Auditore say, “Salve, Sofia Rikkin. My compatriots and I… have a lot of questions that we hope you would be able to answer.”

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond’s snake heads have come to the agreement that any bickering will be kept to a minimum and in a very soft volume when Desmond is on the field. When Desmond is in a safe place though, all bets were off.

Haytham acts like their devil’s advocate and takes every chance to insult the current state of the Brotherhood.

Desmond has been looking for Shaun and Rebecca but the Assassins have gone deeper underground after the Solar Flare. He actually found the Madrid facility because he could feel something calling to him. It felt like the sound of babies crying. Not the actual sound but it makes Desmond feel the need to check up on it and help it any way he can.

Altaïr is the one who usually gets Desmond to experiment on his new body. He’s also the reason why Desmond is pretty good at slithering around now since he made Desmond practice and get use to his new body. He knows how important it is for Desmond’s (and their) survival for Desmond to get used to having a snake-like body.

Ezio is more or less their spokesperson whenever Desmond doesn’t feel like talking. He’s also the peace keeper although his way of keeping peace is biting the snake heads making a fuss (usually Haytham and Altaïr)

Edward is the one that usually reins Haytham in though. He’s also the one to make the most daring plans (Altaïr is the snake head to make the second most daring plans, much to the surprise of everyone)

Ratonhnhaké:ton is the calm one, although he does sometimes get snarky when he’s talking to Haytham, and he’s also the one that has the most snake knowledge although Desmond searched ‘snake’ in google too because Ratonhnhaké:ton humbly says he does not know enough and they should learn everything they can.

Aquilus is also a snake head because I rarely include him in any of these ideas and I feel bad. He’s the most confused one because he has no idea who the hell anyone is and why he’s there but he is also the one with the most knowledge about gorgons so he’s the one who tells Desmond that they may be a male version of a gorgon and what that implies. His explanation does make Desmond fear that he can turn anyone he stares at into stone. As much as he feared it, Desmond was also disappointed to learn that, no, he cannot turn anyone into stone.

Yes. Desmond’s snake ancestors can be understood by anyone. The other snake ancestors could only be understood by their descendants that they’re connected to and other people with snake ancestors.

Trying to separate the snake ancestor from their descendant causes extreme pain. It is unclear if they do die because they are separated or if the pain and shock of being separated caused cardiac death.

If you want to add Arno to this: Cal is Arno’s descendant as well (his father could also work if you want to go down that route)

If you want to add the Frye twins to this: Darcy and Lucas Clarkson are twins born in 2004 that are confirmed descendants of the Frye twins (just say fuck you to Ubisoft saying Watch_Dog Legion is not connected to AC or transfer Darcy and Lucas to AC and give them a sorta different backstory)

#desmond is a gorgon au #animus subject gets snake heads #to screw everyone’s life up #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #haytham kenway #edward kenway #aquilus (assassin's creed) #callum lynch #aguilar de nerha #sofia rikkin #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot

[somewherebetweendisorder]

Greek God

A/N: This is so cringe, but honestly I'm still really fond of it. This was posted on my old account basicallybats. I've decided to get back into the swing of posting because I've really missed it. I'd love feedback. :)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, cringe cringe CRINGE

~~~

Eddie hates storms. The clouds gathering over Hawkins have his heart rate picking up, nervous energy ticking through his fingers which tap an unsteady beat against the doorframe. He fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, reaching blindly for his lighter, itching for something to soothe his nerves, contemplating heading over to your house. It's just a rainstorm, he doesn't want to appear pathetic and doesn't want you to think he's a loser for being unable to handle a little rain.

He flicks the lighter on, bringing it closer to the cigarette dangling haphazardly from his lips, eyes focused on the clouds that seem to get darker with each passing second. He hisses when he feels the flame lick at his finger, deciding yes, he's going to your house.

Smoke still hanging from his mouth he pulls the front door shut behind him, locking it before jogging down the steps and starting towards your house. Eddie curses the sky, the gathering storm on his left, the dying day to his right, mocking him with the last pretty shades of pink and blue. Walking faster, he hopes the rain holds out, wishes his van wasn't in the shop.

There's no warning drizzle, no introduction to the storm, the sky unleashes all at once, harsh fat raindrops pouring down, saturating the dry ground, soaking his clothes, his hair, blinding him. Eddie breathes deeply, taking in the smell, earthy and something else, something heady almost pleasant despite his hatred towards the wet seeping out of the atmosphere.

Lightning flashes above, cutting the world into purple and white shards, illuminating the two-toned leaves, shadows catching on the wind-whipped foliage the way light should be. The rain picks up, and Eddie wants to run, wants to be in the comfort of your warm house, sunny walls and fairy lights surrounding him like the scent of orchids, permanent to your room.

Thunder peels overhead, loud, echoing through the empty space, rattling his bones, confirming his decision to be next to you as soon as possible. When the door to your duplex is in sight Eddie sighs in relief, shoulders sagging as he staggers up the steps to your small porch which offers little security from the storm. Using his key, he lets himself in, toeing off his sopping Reeboks, scowling at the mud caked on his white sneakers, muttering to himself as he makes his way down the hall towards your room.

He hears you before he sees you, sweet voice intoxicating him, making the trek over more worth it than he expected, soothing his nerves.

"I don't really like how you never shut up, 'cause you got dirt on everyone." He pauses in your doorway, his eyes falling on your form naturally like you're all he was ever meant to see.

"And since you always swear that you wanted me gone, then why don't you go get your gun?"

You're pulling on your jacket, stepping into your shoes, hips swaying gently with the music, voice sweet, not quite hitting the notes, but striking something deep within him, awakening a desire to experience this scene for the rest of his life. You look up, shoulders jerking in surprise, breath catching interrupting your song. The shock quickly dissolves into relief as you rush him, arms wrapping tight around him, knocking the air out of his lungs in the best way.

"I was getting ready to come to you."

The admission falls from your lips with little grace, whispered like it's some great secret, but said clumsily like you're unsure it was the right thing to say.

The sentiment has his throat closing up, eyes squinting against the happy yellow ambiance of your space as he squeezes you tighter, nose burrowing into your pineapple-scent-tinged hair.

"S'nice out. Thought I'd walk," Eddie manages, voice tight.

You pull back enough to look up at him, eyes giving away the sea of emotions swirling around inside of you. Pleased he's here, sorry you were too slow to make it to him before he had to come to you. "Oh, Eds."

Your sigh invades his head, pierces his lingering misery, shattering it, settling on his tongue like something sweet, treacly. He wants to taste it. You take his weight, arms slipping around his neck, fingers sliding into the damp waves at the base of his neck, lips parting beneath his. He wants more, likes the way you whimper into his mouth, likes the way the sound tastes.

"Eds, you're soaked. Get changed, yeah?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

Your brows are lifted in a challenge, daring him to argue, to defy you. He knows he won't, you know he won't, but it's a fun game, all the same, testing the other's dominance. He likes it when you bite.

"Fine. Fine, mind if I shower too?" He's already pulling away, missing the warmth of your skin against his chilled flesh, making his way to your dresser, tugging open his drawer, rings clinging softly against the handle.

"No, you know I don't."

You're straightening up your desk when he turns around, hair shiny beneath the little lights flickering around your room. He watches as you absentmindedly shove the loose strands back from your face, tying them up with the hair tie on your wrist, muscles in your arms flexing as you do.

"How will you survive while I'm gone?"

"I'm sure I'll manage." Your smile has him nodding, suddenly in a hurry to be done and back by your side.

"Alright, don't have too much fun without me."

The second the bathroom door closes, Eddie strips off his clothes, tossing them into a wet pile, wincing when they hit the tile with a squelch. You'd hate it, and he promises himself he'll make sure the bathroom is as neat as he found it.

Your water gets warmer than it does at his trailer, something he appreciates takes advantage of when he stays over. The scalding water pounds down on his head, his back, easing away most of the stress but none of the tension. His stomach feels pinched, a warm heat blossoming in his gut, spreading outwards, making it impossible to focus on anything but the thought that you're down the hall waiting for him.

He reaches for his growing arousal, desperate, needy, wanting you, before fisting his hands on his hair. He's here, you're here. Is it wrong to assume he can have you? He doesn't want to assume. He chokes on the steam, clears his throat, turns the water off before he can second guess himself.

He gets halfway through toweling off the rivulets of water cascading down his body before giving up and pulling on clean boxers and sweatpants, moving on to harshly scrubbing the towel over his head. His eyes fall on the shirt still lying on the cold countertop, he doesn't want to put it on, doesn't want to miss an inch of your skin that may touch his. God, why is he like this?

Eddie moves to hang up the towel, gaze falling on a large hole at the hem, fingering the frayed strands, pulling until one grows impossibly long and snaps off.

"Shit, sorry," he apologizes to no one in particular, feeling bad for causing further harm to your towel, rolling the string up into a tight ball before tossing it into the wastebasket. He steels himself, eyes shut so tight he can see colors bouncing around the blackness, and his eyes begin to ache.

He finds you standing on your desk chair, balancing on your tip toes, winding a strand of fake sunflowers around the fairy lights lining your window, the ratty old band tee you're wearing riding up, exposing the soft flesh of your stomach. His eyes follow the gentle curve, the silken flesh catching in the light, glowing with a pastel shine, an ethereal aura. Your shorts are short, the shortest he's ever seen you in he's sure, and the supple flesh of your thighs, your naked legs that never seem to end are dragging his thoughts further into the gutter.

"More flowers?"

His voice breaks your reverie, and you come down awkwardly on your heels. "It's not that many more," you mutter defensively.

"It looks like a forest threw up in here, baby girl."

You both look around, taking in the little mushroom shelves lining one of your walls, the moss on the mirror, the flowers wrapped carefully around your bedframe and window. "Well, I like it."

Your voice rings with finality, and Eddie likes it, likes seeing you needlessly defend your style, he likes it too, nearly as much as he likes to tease you. Truthfully, it's comforting, some odd sphere that you exist in outside of reality. Your arms come down to your sides, shirt falling back down, and he's closing the space, hands settling underneath the thin fabric, resting hotly, heavily on your waist.

You look down on him, wondering what's going on in that overly pretty head of his, hair still damp from his shower, skin pale and shiny, smelling faintly of your body wash. You can't help the smile that starts curling on your lips, faintly aware of the song you've had on repeat once again starting over. He notices too, you can see it in his eyes as he cocks his head to the side as though to hear it better.

"Again?"

"I like it. Gives me mad vibes."

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head, tugging you off the chair with ease that would impress you if you weren't hyperaware of the naked expanse of flesh he's pulling you into. He's warm, almost unbearably so, setting your skin on fire.

"Whatever you say. I like it better when you sing it."

Heat crawls up your neck, staining your cheeks the prettiest shade of pink Eddie has ever seen. His hands come up to bracket your neck, barren, rings left forgotten on your bathroom counter. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, enjoying the feel of your skin, soft underneath his calloused fingers, silky and warm. He kisses the gentle arch of your eyebrows, down your nose, hot breath fanning your face, leaving you dizzy. He smells like cigarettes and rain, and it has you wondering if it's really a good idea for him to be here like this, right now. As of yet, he hasn't had you how you want him to, something like fear and insecurity holding you back from whispering the words into his lips, the foolish questions lingering on your tongue, overly salty.

"Don't make fun of me," you finally manage, voice wavering with thinly veiled emotion.

"I'm not. I love your voice. It's too good to not hear. I always want-"

Your eyes widen at the implication his words are rushing towards, and he can see the wonder mounting behind the curiosity in your gaze. He stops, looks away, finds your face again in the nearly fictitiously perfect backdrop, flowers and lush green moss, painting you to be a fairy, a nymph, something too good to be true. Something too good for him.

"I always enjoy hearing you sing." The words fall short of their original meaning, having been edited to the point of misunderstanding, but you're sure you know what he was going to say. You let it go, pulling his lips down to yours, searching the dark little places in your soul, shadows, and puddles, for your courage, sure that it must be hiding somewhere. His lips are questioning, hesitant, he's battling some demon you can't quite see, and it has your heart aching, making it harder to ask, to want.

"What's going on in your head, Eddie?"

He retreats further, physically pulling back, breath coming hard and fast, little puffs of air ruffling the loose strands of hair around your face. His hands tighten around your waist, slide up to grip your arms, eyes earnest on yours.

"Too much. Sorry I- I'm good, I swear."

You touch his jaw, pleading with him to relax, soften, melt in your hands, and be happy. "Eddie. You're doing that thing again. Where you think you're being too rough or too much, and you disappear entirely."

You plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth. "I want you."

There's not an ounce of bravado in your voice. No confidence, no provocative hint, just words spoken hushed into his skin. It's enough for him, too much for Eddie, pulling the air from his lungs with a painful rush.

"Fuck, Y/N, don't- You can't say things on my account-"

"That's a very bold assumption. I'm not saying anything for you. It's for me. I want you. I want to touch you, feel you… Taste you. Selfishly."

Eddie gulps, and he swears the sound fills the room, drowns out the music, and booms over his racing heart, he's sure you hear it, but you show no sign that you did. How often has he imagined this moment, some fantasy playing out over and over in his mind, coming together now better than he ever could have hoped. Maybe it only feels better because it's real, it's happening, he can feel your chest flush with his, heart beating faster than ever.

"Please do. Fucking hell, whatever you want s'yours, baby."

You're sucking in a breath, taking in the last of the oxygen in the room, your chest rising, grazing his, pulling a growl from deep in his throat, the guttural noise pouring gasoline over the fire. You couldn't walk this back if you wanted to. That's the last thing you want.

The only thing on your mind, on Eddie's mind, is more, more skin, more lips, more hands finally free to touch every smooth plane of skin, trace every curve. He wastes no time, lifting the hem of your shirt, pulling it up up up, easing it over your head, and throwing it over his shoulder. The action has the desire pooling in your gut, threatening to overflow.

"Eddie."

His name comes out in a whine, a sound that inflates his ego with hot air, a pitiful sound that has you blushing the moment the word leaves your lips. "What is it, gorgeous? What do you need?"

His teasing has your eyes flashing, fingers digging harshly into his shoulders. This isn't a game, he knows that, he doesn't mean to tease, he just likes the way you're dissolving in his hands, sticky sweet, already trembling, and he's hardly touched you. He lets his eyes wander down to your nearly naked chest, choking on air at the sight of your breasts covered by only a white lacy bra, dotted with cherries. It's cute, it's you. He likes it.

You want to cover yourself, resist the urge, dig your nails deeper into his flesh, too excited and anxious all at once, surrounded by newness. Eddie sinks to his knees, closing the gap, making him eye level with your chest, a smile tugging at his lips. He pays no mind to your painful hold on his shoulders, leaning forward to place a reverent kiss to the swell of your breast, watching your eyes for confirmation that this is okay, that you still want this. Your lips part, eyes blown wide with lust and something else, something he's afraid to assume when the words haven't left your lips.

"S'this okay?"

Hot breath fans your skin, warding away the goosebumps, and you can only manage a nod, fingers slipping up into his hair, pulling gently, tipping his head back. His lips move over the stupid little cherries at a torturous pace, entirely too much fabric between his mouth and your skin. His fingers settle with a feathery touch on your ankle, ghosting up your leg, a barely there touch that's more ticklish than it is satisfying. A chill crawls up your spine, tingling across the back of your neck, egging him on.

Fingertips coast up your thighs, brush the hem of your shorts, and inch up higher and higher until he's walking his fingers up your butt to the waistband of your shorts, pulling away just enough to look at your face.

"Do it."

At your approval, he's rushing forward, pulling them down, tongue tracing the valley between your breasts.

"You're wearing too many clothes," you hiss, wanting more of his skin on yours, desperate to have him bare before you.

"That's your opinion."

"Eddie, I'm fuckin' serious. Take off your damn clothes."

He huffs a laugh, standing before you get any more upset, tugging off his sweatpants, leaving him in only red and black plaid boxers. You reach for the band, snapping it against his skin, giggling, hands retreating from his form to card roughly through your hair.

"What's wrong?" he asks, worried you're having second thoughts.

"Nothing. You're taking forever, touch me, please."

"You're not going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, babe. Slow down. S'not a race."

You brace your hands on his chest, fingers twitching when you feel his heart, thumping quickly against your palm. It excites you, that he's as worked up as you are, his own hands shaking as they find your hips, trail up, around to your back, toying with the clasps of your bra.

An experienced hand would easily unhook your bra, let it fall down your arms to the floor. Eddie's hands aren't experienced, he fumbles with the clasp for longer than he means to, feeling his cheeks heat with shame when you sigh against his neck, impatient.

You begin to hum the Jeopardy theme song, nails dancing up his biceps, tickling the sensitive flesh, making it harder for him to concentrate.

"Fuck off, Y/N."

"Do this often?"

"I will leave you here. Horny and lonely."

"No, you won't. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize this was your first time, okay? I'll be nice."

"It's not my- Forget it."

He steps back, removing his hands, and crossing his arms over his chest. "You deal with it. You're the one wearing the damn thing."

You try to hold the laugh back, knowing he's embarrassed, but you're embarrassed too, and the absurdity of the situation gets the better of you, a bemused chuckle tripping off your lips. "Here."

You turn your back to him, making it easier for him to see, his fingers moving quickly to release the hooks, determined to redeem himself in some right. "You're not my first," he mumbles once you turn back around, holding the garment secure over your chest, straps hanging loose around your upper arms.

"Oh. I mean, I kinda figured." His admission is odd, unsolicited, hardly dampens your mood, but makes you wonder what exactly you have to live up to.

"I was sixteen, stoned and I don't remember what she looked like or what her name was."

"Oh."

He shakes his head, rubs the back of his neck, swallows once, then twice before speaking again.

"What I'm trying to say is really, you are my first. Only one that matters. Only one I want. Did I kill the mood? Fuck, now's probably not a good time to have this conversation. I just figured-"

"Shhh." You place your hand over his mouth, eyes crinkling up in affection at his honest rambling. "I get it. It's okay. You're my first. You're the only one for me. 'Kay?"

You don't remove your hand until he nods, and impossibly he loves you more. With extreme caution, you let the bra slip down, exposing your breasts for the first time, watching Eddie's expression, taking note of every emotion as it crosses his face. He takes in every freckle, every faint stretch mark, every inch of skin, swallowing thickly, reaching out to rapturously brush his fingertips across your flesh.

With no warning his lips are on yours, spanning the gap where words would fall short, reverent, awed by how you trust him. He's laying you back against the blankets on your unmade bed, pulling the hair tie from your hair, watching the strands fan out like a messy halo. Nothing has ever been this breathtaking. No song, no gig, no high could ever compare to the sight of you laid out beneath him, waiting with a small smile.

"I love you."

His words hang in the air, heavy and soothing. "Because I'm naked?"

He shakes his head, frowning at your implication.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm nervous. I love you more. I've loved you since that time you played guitar over the phone until I fell asleep."

Eddie chuckles at the memory, fingers brushing along your cheekbones fondly. "And I've loved you since you cut me off leaving the record store, and then came to my show at the Hideaway later that same night."

He speaks quietly like it's a secret, weight settling on you comfortingly, fingers of his free hand tracing the elastic band of your underwear.

"No, you haven't."

"Yes, I have. That was it for me, I was a goner."

"You're an idiot, Eddie Munson."

The words are spoken affectionately, fingers tracing his facial features, brushing the hair out of his face, tapping his nose once, twice, three times, earning a smile.

"Only for you."

His fingers dip below the elastic barrier, shocking you, and making you whimper at the foreign pleasure. Eddie tries his best to memorize the sound, wants to keep it safe for later, safe for when he's alone and needs relief, but he settles for drawing the sound of you again, hand slipping lower to cup your heat, wet from your arousal.

"This all for me, baby girl?"

There's that sound again, high-pitched and desperate, keening. His middle and marriage fingers trace wide, sweeping circles around your clit, close enough to give you hope for relief, but never where you need him most.

It's driving you insane, and has you gripping the blankets, clawing at the fabric, attempting to tether yourself. Eddie watches your face, notes your pinched features, the pleasure building in your eyes, muddying the shades of color.

You're unraveling with every sweep of his digits against your folds, the heat in your abdomen winding tighter and tighter, thin thread on control threatening to snap, pleasure looming. The moment his fingertips brush your clit, you're crying out, gasping his name, trembling from the onslaught of sensations. His fingers on your core, lips on your neck, legs heavy on yours, arousal pressing into your thigh painfully obvious.

Your back arches into the pleasure, vaguely aware of Eddie rutting into your thigh, a hoarse moan building in his throat, muffled by your skin, fingers working you through your high, tracing tight circles over your slick. Eyes closed against the white-hot light of your orgasm, feeling the warmth spread through your body, bones turning to mush, brain-melting to jelly. You're spineless by the time you come back to yourself, only half aware of Eddie's hand retreating from your panties.

"Wow," he whispers, gaze focused on his slick fingers, coated in cum. He moves to lick them clean but your limp grip on his wrist stops him.

"Don't you dare. I can't-Just don't."

Pink dusts the top of your cheeks, more from the aftereffects of your pleasure than embarrassment, but he concedes, settling for dragging your underwear down your thighs, letting you help, pulling one ankle free, kicking them off the other.

He rolls onto his back, lifts his hips to ease his boxers off, tossing them on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes, and he faces you again. Your eyes trace the edges of his body, trying to let a graceful amount of time pass before your eyes fall on his cock. It's pretty, a large, prominent vein running from his silken mushroom head down to the base. Tentatively, you take him into your hand, thumb tracing his tip, collecting the precum, tracing the vein, attempting to ignore the hiss of air that rushes past his lips, the way he twitches in your gentle grasp.

"I don't have a condom…" you begin, avoiding his gaze, concerned that was the wrong sort of admission for the moment, dick in hand.

"I don't have one either," he manages, jaw clenched at the feeling of your soft hand stroking him, the inevitable disappointment of not quite enough.

"Well, we could skip it. Just this once."

He swears a piece of his soul dies at the mention of this happening again. Never in his wildest dreams did he picture the night ending like this. Maybe, maybe in his wildest, wettest dream, but never could he see it morphing into reality, coming true before him.

"Huh? Y/N, that's how people end up pregnant."

"I know. I know but- Please? Just once?"

"Fuck, you're making it so difficult to say no."

You squeeze to emphasize your next words. "Then don't, Teddy."

The nickname is his undoing, saccharine as it falls from your lips, ensnaring him.

He rolls on top of you, breaking the contact of your hand on him. Doting kisses dropped along your jaw, up to your temple, nose brushing your hairline, breathing you in deep, trying to immortalize the moment, aware of every point where your bodies meet.

His hips slot above yours, bone to bone, forehead to forehead, breath mingling in a collective inhale of anticipation, his tip pressing against your heat, skin tingling.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

The pain of that initial stretch has you whimpering, arching away in surprise. Eddie's eyes are wide, panicked at your reaction, following you with murmured sweet nothings, fingers lacing with yours.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. No, just go slow."

He does, so slow, reigning in his own pleasure, muscles rigid, arms trembling in poorly restrained want.

"You can move."

"You sure, baby?"

You don't answer, shaking his hands off, wrapping your arms around his back, fingers bumping over his spine, urging him closer wordlessly. A silent plea. His large hand covers your thigh, pulling it up over his hip, experimenting to find what you like, what has your breath hitching and your eyes rolling back.

You meet his eyes, the deep brown so dark, pupils blown so wide with lust you can't distinguish the difference. Intoxicated on Eddie, surrounded by him, filled by him, high on his skin, his lips, bodies moving together, sticky with sweat.

His moan catches you off guard, the sweetest sound you've ever heard

You're opening your mouth, ready to ask him to do it again when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing eager, sloppy circles, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Eds."

"You close?"

"Y-yes."

He thrusts harder, faster, grip on your thigh bruising, sure to leave pretty marks on the doughy flesh to trace tomorrow. His lips find your neck again, sucking fervently, teeth skidding along your throat, stifling his sweet voice.

The overload of Eddie has you writhing, your body going stiff before the second wave of euphoria washes over you, threatening to drown, the danger of the riptide lapping at your frayed sense.

"Eddie."

The pleasure dripping off your tongue pushes Eddie off the cliff, has him freefalling at the taste of it on your tongue. He can feel it on his oversensitive skin. He thrusts deep, a shiver snaking up his spine, shaking his shoulders, lips parted, your name filling the space between you with a choked moan before he's sagging against you, thoroughly spent.

Eddie has no clue where you begin and he ends, an indistinct, messy tangle of limbs and bare skin, glowy with armory and satisfaction.

"I love you, Eddie."

"I love you more, Y/N."

Fingers trace skin, his, yours, it's all the same, all hot and soft, every touch magnified, different, and yet more same than ever before. A new familiarity sits between you, free of any inhibition or insecurity.

Finally, Eddie breaks the silence. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You follow him down the hall, never breaking contact, his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist, flicking on lights as he goes.

You sit on the ledge of the tub as Eddie turns on the faucet, waiting for the water to warm up, testing the temperature every few seconds with a cautious finger. Once he deems it warm enough he soaks the washcloth under the stream, stepping over to you.

Tugging you to your feet, he plants a gentle kiss on your clammy skin, running the cloth along your body, wiping away sweat before trailing lower, removing any evidence of himself. He repeats the process on himself, far less gently, tossing the rags into the laundry hamper. He moves around your small bathroom easily, grabbing your toothbrush and his from the cup next to the sink, wetting the bristles before passing you yours, squeezing a glob of toothpaste out, smiling at you sheepishly when you shake your head in bemusement.

You can't tolerate the distance between you, stand and step closer to him, pretending to be engrossed in the simple task of brushing your teeth, even as your pinky finger seeks his out, curling around his. Eddie brings your joined hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles, wincing at the smear of foamy toothpaste he leaves behind. You rinse it off, smiling at him in your reflection.

He gestures to your skincare products on the counter with a shrug. "I can never remember which order you use 'em in."

You line them up for him and he sets to work, dabbing careful little dots onto your skin like he's watched you do countless times before working it into your skin in gentle circles, caressing your face.

This isn't the first time, but it feels different, and new. You stand on tiptoes, kiss his lips once, twice when he's finished, bare chest grazing his before you pull him back to your room. carelessly rummaging around in your dresser for pajamas, you keep your back to him as he pulls his boxers and sweatpants back on.

Eddie pulls the covers down, unplugging the fairy lights as you tug on the stolen tee shirt of his you found. Clicking off the radio, you join him in bed, curling into his side, a perfect fit. In the still, you realize the rain continues to pound down on the roof, the steady thrum soothing.

His eyes are heavy with exhaustion, lips slack on your temple, a tender reassurance, an unspoken testament of love. You let the silence go unbroken, hand resting on his chest, head on his shoulder, shallow breaths washing over his neck.

"G'night, Teddy."

"Night, love. Sweet dreams."

You stay like that until sleep pulls you under, lulled by the rain and Eddie's warmth, his arms secure around you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut

[jongseongsnudes]

four.

warning; 🦋 1k words.

masterlist.

“hey you’re here!” your tall co-worker wraps both his arms around you, bringing you in for a tight hug, “you’re so cold! come, i’ll turn up the heater in my room.”

you follow the boy through his surprisingly empty home, which is usually filled with his sister’s loud chatter and giggles.

“my family went out to visit family so we pretty much have the whole house to ourselves tonight,” he says to you after noticing your curious gazes, “my sisters keep asking about you. they seem to like you more than they like me.”

“well what can i say? i’m just very liked.”

he stops in his tracks and turns to you for a moment, eyes and lips lifting up into a small smile. you wait for him to say something... but nothing.

“wh- what? why are you staring at me?”

“nothing.”

you continue following the tall boy into his room, curiosity filling your mind over that little weird moment you had with him. why he suddenly stopped to look at you... while smiling like that. kai was always one to jokingly flirt with you but that... that was definitely something different.

“i bought your favourite chocolates earlier,” he dangles the familiar chocolate bar in your face with a rather mischievous look on his own before lifting it way above your head.

“hey that’s not fair! you’re too tall!”

“not my fault you’re only up to my torso,” he lifts the bar even higher above his own head, forcing you to naturally go onto your tip toes but what was the point when the boy was double your height? “try jumping. you might just reach my shoulders little one.”

“HUENING! KAI! YOU. ARE. SO. MEAN!”

you were both too busy laughing and play fighting to realise the arrival of someone else at the bedroom door, his eyes focused entirely on the scene before him.

“jung... jungwon?” 

“manager yang you’re finally here!” kai goes over to shoulder bump jungwon, the two immediately laughing about something, “alright i’ll get the movie set up.”

“i- i’ll go make some popcorn then,” you say a little too awkwardly and quickly walk past the two boys to get to the kitchen. the last thing you had expected to happen tonight was for jungwon to show up... completely alone. 

“anything i can help with?”

you turn around almost immediately at jungwon’s sudden voice to see him standing right behind you, his eyes curiously gawking down at you. you can’t help but swoon at just how good he looked outside of his daily uniform. a simple sweater and denim combo was enough to sweep you off your feet completely.

“n- no i’m okay. you can go back inside if you want.”

“am i...” he mumbles off, eyes diverting to the space beside you, “am i disturbing you guys?”

“no of course not. we were just going to watch a movie,” you also mumble off, your tone a tiny bit harsher than usual, “where’s your friend? i thought you were bringing her?”

“i never planned to do that. we aren’t that close actually.”

“oh...”

silence overtakes the kitchen as you and jungwon stay staring at each other, no one knowing what to say next. 

“are you guys done yet?” kai yells from his bedroom, bringing the two of you out of whatever that was. “the movie is starting!”

quickly taking the popcorn out of microwave, you make your way past jungwon once again and head back towards kai’s now darkened room. 

“alright we’re watching horror tonight!”

“really? i thought we were watching that new comedy movie?” you pout and get yourself comfy on the pile of blankets and pillows on kai’s floor, not entirely excited about the new plan, “what happened to a light hearted night?”

“are you scared little one?” the boy chuckles and also gets himself comfortable beside you, “you can always hold onto me if you’re scared. i can be your knight in shining armour.”

you playfully roll your eyes just as jungwon enters the room with a drink in his hand, his eyes immediately going to you and kai on the floor. to your surprise, the boy decides to take a seat on your other side, now making you huddled up in between the two boys.

not even twenty minutes into the movie and you feel yourself getting nervous already, palms unknowingly shaking at the intense scene playing on the big screen. you were never a fan of the genre and this proved it.

you almost scream when a hand suddenly grabs onto yours, lightly squeezing it in a rather comforting way. glancing down, you’re surprised to see that it’s jungwon holding your hand, his attention however is still glued onto the screen ahead. apart of you is confused about his action but the other half of you wants to squeal because YANG JUNGWON was holding your hand.

your long time crush, your dream boy was holding YOUR hand!

“oh my god don’t faint. don’t faint. don’t faint,” you silently chant the same words over and over in your head, hoping that jungwon wouldn’t notice just how much you were panicking because of him. the horrific movie was long forgotten, your entire focus now entirely on his hand on yours... clutched over yours!

“hey i need to pee. don’t play the movie without me!”

“we won’t,” you chuckle nervously as you watch kai exit the bedroom, leaving just you and jungwon behind in the very dimly lit room... still holding hands. you’re unsure of what to say or whether to retract your hand away at this point.

“you know we don’t need to finish this movie if you don’t want to. i’m sure kai is okay with watching a different one.”

“i’m- i’m okay with it... just a little scared.”

“well i’m right here so you don’t need to be,” the boy flashes his million dollar smile at you, causing your poor, weak heart to almost burst out of your chest. how someone could be so utterly charming, you’re not sure, but yang jungwon was literally the walking definition of it.

“alright lets watch!”

the movie continues on without interruption once kai settles back in, except for your hand that would come up to cover your eyes every two minutes. your other hand however, is constantly squeezing the poor manager’s hands without even knowing, probably scaring him, if not hurting him.

you let out a gasp when kai suddenly drapes his arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer towards him and into his embrace. you’re not sure what to do, your eyes now the size of saucepans which only has the tall boy chuckling in return.

“i told you to hug me if you were scared.”

“kai-”

“no need to thank me, i’ll keep you safe,” kai whispers down to you, his face barely an inch away from yours. 

you have no idea how to react to the situation but what you do know is that jungwon’s hand was no longer holding yours.

end.

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#the enha universe #jongseongsnudes #enhypen drabble #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen reaction #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon imagine #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon drabble #jungwon x reader #jungwon; co worker #jungwon fic #jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon imagine #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon x reader

[eris-snow]

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

Tags: Deku's birthday series 2023, izuku x fem!reader, fluff

He takes care of you well…shares his secrets with you willingly just as you spill out all of yours…all except for matters pertaining to the Quirk Accident…and one more.

You’re the easiest person to talk to, even though there are so many things I can’t tell you. Even if you knew everything that happened that’s making me say this, there will always be one particular secret I can’t tell you, even though it’s dying to spill from my lips.

A week. 7 days until he forgets you again.

--

This was going to hurt.

“It’s awesome that we live so close,” Izuku exclaims as he ducks under a tree branch. “Even though U.A is great, it can never beat home sweet home,”

“That, I agree with.” You concur, lifting up a couple of branches.

Izuku had never felt so flustered in his life when he woke up to coos and awws all directed in his direction. It didn’t take a scientist to figure out why. With the weight wrapped around his arm and your head on his shoulder, it took him one full second to realise four things:

He’d just spent a night on the couch with you…

Forgotten to wake you up…

Ended up falling asleep with you…

On common room’s couch, on display for everyone to see.

Izuku didn’t curse, but right now, he was screaming the word shit in his brain over and over again.

Don’t get him wrong, he’d tried to quietly untangle himself from you, but it didn’t work as you started to frown and pull him closer when you started to feel him leave.

Cute, his mind had supplied, and part of him was embarrassed that he actually liked the feeling of you in his embrace, tucked away by his side.

It felt good, felt right, but…not when you had 5 pairs of eyeballs studying the both of you in public.

Waking up in Izuku’s arms was something you never knew you wanted to do. He was rightfully embarrassed, anyone would be, and when you realise he was trying to pull away you immediately relented. With a hasty goodbye and a time to meet, you fled upstairs to pack your bag while drowning in shame.

Now, as you explore the forest of your childhood, you were trying hard not to think of the dorms and focus on why you wanted to come here.

And luck favors you today, because as an answer to your desperate plea, bright light that was previously obscured by trees shines through to brighten the clearing you’d been looking for. A large weeping willow towers over the lake, a scene you used to see often now reflecting back in your eyes.

You suck in a breath. “We’re here.”

The clearing is a special place to you because it was where Izuku used to spend much time with you back when you were little. Back when Izuku was Quirkless, this spot had been his sanctuary from the judgemental people that lined his life. Izuku was here the most for those first couple of weeks, before they ironed out to weekly visits when you’d join him with a picnic basket in hand.

After your Quirk Accident with Izuku, you’d come here a lot, too.

This place’s features might have changed, but it evokes the same feeling.

It feels like coming home.

You set down your basket and blanket by the weeping willow, taking in your surroundings. The lake was still beautifully clear as always, proof that you and Izuku had been the only ones to find this place. In contrast, the weeping willow was taller, the leaves dangling a little longer and coloured green to block the sun’s glare. Your fingers traced the bark of the tree, eyes glancing up to the branch that you always sat on just a head above where you were standing.

The nostalgia was almost suffocating.

“Let’s lay out the blankets first,” Izuku suggests, making your eyes snap to the green-haired. His scarred hands are awfully gentle as they pick up the picnic mat and spread it out.

Even though he could snap a neck as easily as breaking a toothpick, Izuku has never flaunted it, instead opting to cradle and handle everything he did with care.

Just like he did with you.

A gasp jolts you out of your thoughts, making your eyes focus on Izuku’s face. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth open ajar as he brings the two boxes out. “Did you make bentos for us?”

“No, I got takeout,” I say flatly, rolling my eyes. “Of course I cooked for us. It’s 3 p.m and we skipped lunch. I’m starving.”

“Starlight, you’re the best! Your cooking is top-tier!” He cheers, eyes glowing like stars.

“Well,” You scratch your head, settling down next to him. “I learned from the best.”

You learned from Katsuki, is what you were trying to say, but Izuku pays no mind and passes you your box. “Thank you for the food!” he greets, before ripping open the lid and tucking in with you.

Some things never change, especially when it came to Izuku and food.

“How’d you find this place, by the way?” He asks midway through your meal. He looks incredibly adorable like that, mouth stuffed like a hamster’s, but it made you pause. “I was exploring the woods and found it,” You shrug, playing with your food now. It was another white lie to add to your ever growing list, but then again, who’s counting?

It’s not like Izuku had ever questioned them.

--

The next hour was spent in blissful silence.

The Sun had decided to play nice today, and the wind was a cooling gale that made summer’s hot weather feel like a cakewalk. Your finished bentos were dumped inside the old picnic basket, and you found yourself climbing the tree like second nature.

Izuku was always nervous when you did this, even more so in middle school because the best he could do was to break your fall as you take him down with you. But your feet dig into the right places of the tree, hands clutching familiar hooks and branches until, finally, you make it up.

It was much easier now that you were stronger.

“You better be careful up there,” Izuku had warned.

“Relax!” You grin, sticking your tongue out at Izuku. “At this height? Worst I’d get is a bruised ego. I can’t call myself a hero if I can’t even land on my feet.”

Izuku takes down notes and does homework while you draw the scenery, the wind blowing your hair back as you balance on the tree branch expertly. 10+ years of practice has done you well.

A note slips out of your grasp the next time the wind blows, fluttering down to Izuku’s hero analysis notebook. Right. Your Secret for today.

“For me?” He asks, head craning up to look at you curiously.

You nod your head.

You’re the easiest person to talk to, even though there are so many things I can’t tell you. Even if you knew everything that happened that’s making me say this, there will always be one particular secret I can’t tell you, even though it’s dying to spill from my lips.

Your green-haired friend had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Whether it was loud sputters that signified his nervousness, his expressive eyes that were the window to his soul, or his ears that always tipped red whenever he was embarrassed.

After knowing him so long, he didn’t have to say a word for you to read his mind.

“I’m here when you want to tell me,” He says gently, peering up at you with a tender gaze. “Whatever it is, I’m glad that you trust me.”

It’s simple words like this that make your heart pound. And it’s even more impactful when you look into his eyes, and you know that he means it. Every word that he says is from the bottom of his heart.

Your heart aches to do the same, wishing you could work around this another way. You wish…you didn’t have to lie.

“I’m sorry…” You mutter, eyes barely meeting his.

Crap, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Izuku shakes his head, face so painfully trusting. “For what?”

I’m sorry that I have to lie to you.

I’m sorry that I have to hide stuff from you.

“Everything.” You mumble, “For keeping you awake at night when I have nightmares. For having you do so much for me these past few days. Zuku, you don’t have a clue of how much this means to me—”

“Probably as much as whatever you do for me—” He argues.

“—Because I just—” You catch yourself, course-correcting. “I just…”

Love you.

You can't even get those two damn words out of your mouth.

“I get it,” Izuku assures, a smile plastered on his face. There’s a hint of Izuku’s real smile there, the one that was meant for you, but it’s hidden under layers of forgotten memories and unseen barriers.

It doesn’t assure you at all.

The sound of the lake and nature around you cover up the silence between the two of you, before you force yourself to speak again. “Hey, Zuku? Do you want to celebrate your birthday at home, instead of U.A.? We can get Kacch—Katsuki to come back with us as your birthday present, celebrate at your house and everything with a cake and presents. You like your birthdays small, right?”

Please don’t realise my slip up, please don’t realise my slip up—

“How’d you know that?” He chuckles, forgoing the tenseness edging the conversation. Hard time, that’s all he has to remember. You’re going through a difficult time now, a difficult thing he is unaware of—

“You seem like that kind of guy,” Another white lie. After all these years, each birthday of his is ingrained into your brain, searing itself like a tattoo. It burns.

“Gee, thanks,” He pouts, dropping his eyes back to the ground. This is better, you breathe in relief, smirking.

You could deal with this situation like this.

“But yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll tell Kacchan about it.”

Yeah, you can deal with this. you just had to take it one day at a time, make the most out of everything you had.

--

Our spot in the forest is a well-kept secret. It’s selfish, but I don’t want anybody else to know about it besides you and me. P.s. Don’t apologise for crying. We’re heroes, but we’re human too.

He gives you that on the way back, and as the first stars appear in the sky, you sniffle all the way home while Izuku comforts you, even though he has no idea why you’re crying.

You’re going to miss this.

#mha #mha fanfiction #deku x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya x y/n #Deku's birthday series 2023

[babyspacebatclone]

Ok, just back from the live action The Little Mermaid.

And may I confidently say?

Best live-action Disney adaptation yet.

True, a low bar to clear, but this honestly felt like a movie and a love story, and not just a cash grab.

Every single changed scene had me smiling. Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) was amazing, and Halle Bailey truly is Ariel, I want her version to become the defacto in the Disney Princesses line because she feels sweet and clever and brave above and beyond the animated version.

(No offense to Jodi Benson, I love her, but the animated version is what it was and the new Ariel is just given more room to breathe.)

I think, comparing, my child self would love the animated spectacle more…

But my adult self loves the tighter, more in depth story of the live action more.

It feels like the best kind of fan fiction, one where someone who loves the characters asks “How were they feeling here? How can I expand this?”

And gives us those glimpses.

Not perfect, but definitely enough for me to fan girl.

Speaking of which… Spoilers below the cut.

Right from the opening scene, you see this movie is taking itself and the responsibility of the story seriously. I love the development of Eric, his camaraderie with the sailors while also being a good mix of level headed (don’t just harpoon mermaids) with reckless insanity (dude, you’re a prince, please don’t laugh while dangling by one arm over open water. ah, well, i love you anyway).

I can feel how much the film pulls back the special effects budget, especially making the introduction of Triton’s daughters basically a business meeting instead of the grand performance, but the filmmakers were smart enough to make the change work. I like the idea of each daughter being “manager” of a specific sea under daddy’s “CEO,” and it was a great excuse to give diversity to each sister.

Plus, I loved their banter/interaction while cleaning the shipwreck, they felt natural and I wish we could have had more time with them.

Speaking of natural!

As a writer I was listening to the exposition, and in my opinion it was exceptionally well done, especially for the amount they crammed into the beginning. Some of it was on-the-nose, but that was restricted to Grimsby, Sebastian, and Ursula, and felt character appropriate in each context.

There was an eye for why the character is saying something - “Am I supposed to tell the Queen her son died, and on his birthday?”; “A shipwreck brought you to us, and now a shipwreck almost took you away, I can’t stand this anymore!”

I didn’t fee like making Eric an adopted orphan of the royal family was necessary, but I loved both Jonah’s and Noma Dumezweni’s performances enough that I accept the filmmakers wanting to justify things and they do tie it in to Eric’s expanded character.

And that is 👌👌👌 he’s so sweet and adorkable and they manage to make his longing to see the world beyond his island mesh with Ariel’s longing for the surface world without it feeling forced.

You see them shyly come together over their shared feelings of isolation and longing for something they’ve only been able to glimpse, not experience.

Turning the ideas that Ursula is King Triton’s sister and Ariel’s mother was killed by humans into not just canon, but pertinent plot points, was excellent.

I wish we could have known more about her mother, but can I say I’m glad it was never revealed Ursula was actually responsible? I suspected that when it was clear Ursula had been banished around the time of the death, but it works so much better than it really was just one human that traumatized King Triton, and him having to overcome his hatred of humanity as a whole despite his lose.

Ursula pulling out the “I’m your Aunt, ‘Daddy’ has hurt me so much by refusing to understand me, too” was genius.

It especially helped with the fact that Ariel was going to refuse to sacrifice her entire life (realism!!) only to give in because of her anger in a moment of spite towards her father (realism!!!), especially with seeing their relationship and knowing that Ariel’s fear of being enclosed under her father’s constant watch was probably accurate.

As a song, “For the First Time” isn’t particularly special.

Including Ariel actively doubting her decision to come to land? Brilliant.

The entire day out and “Kiss the Girl” sequence is perfection, fight me.

Grimsby being an active shipper on deck?? 😍

I personally prefer Eric being the one to steer the ship in the climatic fight, but the detail of Ariel steering it because she’d witnessed him trying to save the ship in the beginning was nice symmetry.

The animal companions were done very well in my opinion: Scuttle was better handled than in the animation to me, Sebastian was perfect and they did a great job humanizing his design with his eyes compared to previous outings, and Flounder was - there. With Max.

Almost feel you could have cut the last two out and lost nothing except babbling to Triton at the beginning, Eric coulda saved the shipboy at the beginning…

(And yes Flounder’s “realistic” design does not improve in context, fortunately he’s on screen less than the animated characters with charisma)

I love the expansion of the prejudices on both sides; I wish it had been better explored at the end, but Queen Selina’s speech to her son about how his feelings for Ariel despite her being a “sea creature” (her initial fearful reaction) was beautiful.

Brain’s trickling down, it was an early showing, but you get the point.

It’s well worth watching the movie, and I’m up for rambling if anyone else is! 😊

#the little mermaid 2023 #the little mermaid spoilers #anaylsis #disney #Youtube

[wowbright]

Fic: I’ll Always Belong to You

Klaine Valentine’s Challenge 2023: “Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing (Day 14 prompt)

Words: ~2400 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Kurt loves his birthday present from Blaine.

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Valentines 2023! This vignette takes place in the post-mission-conference arc, between dinner with the lesbians and Blaine coming out to Kurt. I’ve decided Lead, Kindly Light takes place on Kurt’s birthday, so it’s directly after/the evening of that fic.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (Klaine Valentines 2023 posts are bold and italicized.)

Notes:

Thanks to @redheadgleek, @flower29power, and @gaazhagens for Sound of Music help

Play list of a few German Sound of Music songs/scenes

German movie lyrics to Do-Re-Mi

PDF lyrics to “Ich bleibe dein immerzu” (German movie version of “Something Good”)

Other links are in the text

Other notes in tags

--------

“Have you enjoyed your birthday so far?” Blaine asked as they entered the apartment.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the time of my life!” Kurt set his bag down on the floor and bounded over to the loveseat, flopping onto it with complete abandon, his arms draped over one end, his feet dangling off the other. “Allgäu, cows, the investigators cancelling their appointment—”

“You're really not disappointed about that at all, are you?” Blaine asked as he took off his shoes. He wasn't disappointed that Kurt wasn't disappointed; actually, it rather pleased him. Through most of their companionship, Kurt had been such a workaholic and an absolute stickler for the rules. But tonight, instead of insisting that they knock on doors to make up for some high schoolers canceling on them, he let Blaine treat him to dinner before watching the sunset on the Danube. It had felt, at least to Blaine, almost like a date.

“Nope,” Kurt said. “They just want to research us for their religion class, anyway. And if they did want to join the church, they’re too young to do that without parental approval. How many Bavarian parents are going to be like, ‘Sure, kid, screw the Catholic Church. Go join the Mormons’?”

“How many Bavarian parents actually care that much about the Catholic Church?” He lifted Kurt’s legs like a tollgate to join his companion on the couch, then lowered them across his lap once he was seated.

“Just enough to distrust everything else,” Kurt said without acrimony. He sighed and stretched his arms above his head, wiggling his torso like he was trying to get some kink out of his muscles. “But I suppose it is unusual for me not to feel dejected about a cancellation. Guess I'm officially getting trunky.”

Blaine felt his heart sink in his chest. He hated being reminded that Kurt was leaving soon. All day, he'd managed to pretend that it was never going to happen. Allgäu and the Donau had been paradise, but now Kurt was kicking them out. “You still have a month to go," Blaine said. “Can't afford to be trunky yet.”

Kurt poked Blaine’s thigh with his toe. “I've been such a perfect missionary for twenty-three straight months. All I need to do now is endure to the end. That's what the scriptures say, isn't it? ‘Endure to the end,’ not ‘excel to the end.’”

Blaine chuckled. “That is indeed what they say.”

“I'll do my best not to turn lazy for your sake, though,” Kurt added seriously.

“You don't have to worry about that,” Blaine said. “It's a little known fact, but I actually like spending time with you, whether we're proselytizing or not.” He looked into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt looked into his, studying his face, as if looking for the meaning between the words.

Blaine wanted so desperately for Kurt to find it. Because there was no way Blaine was going to say it out loud. Not when he was so unsure how Kurt would respond. And not on Kurt’s birthday, when everything had been so lovely and perfect and magical. Blaine couldn't risk breaking something so beautiful.

“Your birthday isn't over,” Blaine said. “I didn't manage to secretly bake you a multitiered lemon cake, but I do have something else for you.”

“Oh?” Kurt perked up, clearly curious. “Allgäu, dinner—you don’t think I’ve been spoiled enough?”

“Of course not. Your birthday’s not over yet, is it?” Blaine scooted out from under Kurt’s legs and went into the bedroom to fish his suitcase out from under his bed.

“So that’s where you hide the presents.” Kurt was standing in the doorway, watching Blaine, making absolutely no effort to hide his eagerness to find out what Blaine had in his suitcase. It was adorable.

“That's where I hid this one,” Blaine said, retrieving a small package wrapped in a scenic photo of Kyoto from a magazine in Dani’s recycling pile. It had made Blaine think of Kurt because they’d joked once about going to Japan to visit the train station where a cat was in charge—only Blaine hadn't exactly been joking. He’d meant it. He wanted to meet that cat and, wherever he went, he wanted Kurt to be with him.

Kurt probably didn't even remember that conversation. But that was okay. The photo was beautiful in its own right.

“Oh!” Kurt squealed when Blaine handed the package to him. “I love getting presents.” He dropped onto his bed and examined the square. It was probably obvious to him from the shape that a CD was inside, but he acted like it was the most mysterious object he’d ever held. “Hey! That’s Japan! Is this the place with the cat train conductor that we’re going to visit when you’re done with your mission and I’ve saved anough money to take a jaunt through Asia?”

“That’s Kyoto,” Blaine said, his heart on the verge of exploding. “The cat is in Wakayama. But they’re not too far apart. Maybe a hundred miles? We could definitely visit both of them.”

“How do you know so much about Japan?”

Blaine shrugged. “There might have been a map in that same magazine I pulled the picture from.”

Kurt clucked his tongue. “Elder Anderson, reading unapproved materials. I might have to talk to the mission president about this,” he said in a tone that meant he definitely was not going to talk to the mission president about it.

God help me, Blaine thought. Kurt was so sexy when he feigned disapproval.

Blaine dropped down next to him, the mattress bouncing from the new weight. “So are you going to open it or not? The suspense is killing me.”

“Whose birthday is it?” Kurt said with a smirk. But he did unwrap it. “Meine Lieder, meine Träume,” he read as he revealed the top of the CD cover. “Wait. Is this … Oh my gosh! It is!” Kurt flung his arms around Blaine and hugged the breath out of him.

It was the German soundtrack to The Sound of Music. Blaine had found it in a music store in Munich during the mission conference, and it had immediately struck him as the perfect gift for his companion.

“Is it because this is the musical of my namesake, Kurt von Trapp?” Kurt asked, squeezing Blaine’s arm.

Blaine giggled. He couldn't help it. Kurt was so delightful. Blaine must have sounded like a hopelessly besotted schoolboy. “Partly. But also because I think I've heard you sing almost every single song from the soundtrack in the shower at some point.”

“Of course I have! Because it’s the best musical on earth! It’s got romance, found family, and a half-hour public service announcement against Nazis!” Kurt excitedly opened the liner notes. “And it has a lyrics insert!”

Kurt was a force of nature. He grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him into the living room. It wasn't long before the CD player was removed from its hiding place and plugged into the wall, and Kurt and Blaine were on the loveseat with the liner notes between them, learning the German lyrics to “The Sound of Music”: Along the valleys sounds the song of mountains, the most beautiful song far from our time.

Of course, they didn’t stay on the loveseat for long. One cannot easily sing with gusto while sitting down (the downstairs apartment was empty, and the living room wall faced outside, so they didn't have to worry about disturbing the neighbors unless they got really loud), and dancing is made easier by standing. They pondered how to confront the problem of Maria, recited their favorite things, and learned entirely new mnemonics for the do-re-mi scale (do was not doe, a female deer, but the first syllable in the name of the Donau River; ray was not a drop of golden sun, but Reh, a hoofed herbivore that lived in high-altitude forests; and ti wasn’t ti at all, but si—what passes in Rome for “yes”).

They sang sometimes, and danced sometimes, and occasionally engaged in friendly arguments about the meaning of the lyrics and whether they were good translations.

Blaine collapsed on the loveseat when the Ländler began. He loved this part of the movie, when little Kurt von Trapp asks Maria to teach him the waltz-like dance and Captain von Trapp steps in to demonstrate. It's the first moment the audience knows for sure that the Captain and Maria are falling in love.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kurt asked, his eyebrows quirked in challenge.

“Sitting down?”

“For the Ländler? You can’t sit for the Ländler. It has the name of an actual dance in its title.”

"But I don't know the steps," Blaine said.

“But I do,” said Kurt, bowing slightly and holding out one hand. “Elder Anderson, will you do me the honor of this dance?”

“Well, if you put it that way, Elder Hummel.” Blaine felt giddy. He wasn’t a Disney prince—Kurt was. Blaine was Arielle, woozy with infatuation. Still, he managed to stand and return the bow, then slot his hand into Kurt’s.

Kurt rested his free hand on Blaine’s waist and guided him through the dance. Two hops and a turn. Two hops and a turn. Kurt was right. It wasn't that hard—or, rather, Kurt made it easy. He was an expert lead, guiding with gestures and subtle movements, never forcing Blaine’s body into an unexpected pose. Their bodies returned naturally to each other after every separation. And though the space they were in was tiny, Kurt somehow made it feel huge, like they had the entire world under their feet and could dance wherever their hearts led them.

Blaine fell into the dance like he was falling into Kurt, every minute of every day.

The Ländler ended, but they continued dancing in the silence between songs, through the silliness of “So Long, Farewell” and the joy of “Climb Every Mountain,” and Blaine was so caught up in the music and the lyrics and the feeling of being held in Kurt’s arms that he completely forgot what was coming next until it did—the languid love song where Captain von Trapp and Maria finally admit their feelings to each other.

Nun stehst du hier und du sagst „Liebe mich,“ was ich so gerne tu, So nimm mich und mach du uns glücklich, ich bleibe dein immerzu

(Now you stand here and say, "Love me," which I so gladly do, So take me and make us happy, I'll always belong to you)

Kurt slowed, but didn’t stop or let Blaine go. His eyes were on Blaine’s, clear and fearless. It was like being serenaded. It was like being loved.

Blaine inched slowly closer, testing the waters, waiting for Kurt to stop him. But Kurt didn’t. And now Blaine’s cheek was on Kurt's shoulder and both of Kurt’s arms were around his waist, and they were slow dancing in the living room, the whole world beyond them nothing but a dream.

Blaine sang along. Ich bleibe dein immerzu. Kurt could choose to understand or not. It wasn't in Blaine’s control.

And then he heard Kurt singing back, felt the vibrations of the words in his scalp as Kurt pressed his cheek pressed against the top of Blaine’s head: Nun stehst du hier und du sagst „Liebe mich,“ was ich so gerne tu. Blaine’s fingers flexed into Kurt’s back. He should say it. Liebe mich, Kurt. Liebe mich. That was the thing, wasn't it? He had told Kurt he loved him so many times that Kurt couldn't hear it for what it was. But if he said, Love me, Kurt, please. I need you to love me in every way you know how—then maybe Kurt would finally understand.

Als du kamst, da war ich selig, so wie du. So nimm mich und mach du uns glücklich, ich bleibe dein immerzu.

(You are blessed, and when you came into my life, I was, too. So take me and make us happy, I'll always belong to you.)

The music stopped. Blaine’s heart sped up. But Kurt’s arms were still around him, giving him strength. He could do this. He could say this. He lifted his eyes to Kurt’s, and Kurt was looking back at him as if he already knew.

“Kurt—”

Bang. Bang. Bang. “Elders! It's me, Dani! I heard you come in earlier and I have something for Elder Hummel’s birthday!”

“You told her about my birthday?” Kurt said incredulously. His arms were still on Blaine’s waist, but he had stepped back, his chest no longer warming Blaine’s.

Blaine bit his bottom lip to keep from swearing. “When I told her we were going to Allgäu. I didn’t think she’d do something about it.”

Kurt smiled softly. “It’s okay. I am the one who said I like presents.” And with that, he halfway across the room. “Coming, Dani!”

Kurt swung the door open. Dani stood there with a plate of cupcakes in one hand, her girlfriend at her shoulder, and Stürmchen at her ankles. “They’re chocolate. We were going to try something really fancy like Black Forest cake, but then I remembered you guys don't drink alcohol, and I wasn't sure if the kirsch counted. So just plain chocolate with chocolate frosting. We taste-tested a few and can guarantee that they are not terrible. But if you think they are, just throw them away, don't let Stürmchen eat any. Her birthday gift to you is her presence. You can have her overnight if you like. I know how much it kills you not to be able to have your own cat. Besides, the last couple nights she's been trying to sleep on top of my head and it drives me crazy.”

Stürmchen was already inside the apartment, rubbing herself all over Kurt’s ankles. Blaine found himself feeling jealous of the cat.

He took a deep breath. This was for the best. Today was Kurt’s day, not his. It wasn’t Blaine’s place to ask him for anything. It was a time to celebrate Kurt, and love him as much as Kurt would allow.

If Kurt wanted more, he would let Blaine know.

#klainevalentines2023 #klaine fanfiction #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #The lyrics to the big love song in The Sound of Music movie (“Something Good”) are totally different in German than they are in English. Not #Not my fault. But you can blame this on me: #My translation of the German version into English is a little loose—they’re how I imagine Blaine understanding the lyrics. #also the German movie lyrics are different than the German theatre lyrics #by a lot #the theatre ones are generally closer to the English #but I went with the movie because I could find CDs of that online #though it's easier to find the theater versions in online formats like YouTube and MP3

[leorawright]

hii !! can i request the mercs with a s/o who is SUPER strong and likes to pick them up bridle style just to see their reaction after being lifted of the ground with no issues?

and when their s/o sees them injured during battlefield, with no hesitation their s/o just scoops them up and throws them over their shoulder sprints off to get them to safety

Hehe yesss I can🤭

Mercs with strong s/o

Scout

Totally in love with your strength

Thinks it's low key hot when you just scoop him up and run away

It's always a surefire way to get him to blush

One time he was in danger on the battlefield and Medic couldn't get to him so you just rushed in and threw him over you shoulder

And oh my gosh he just fell more in love with you

Soldier

Soldier is delighted by your strength

It's good for a soldier to be strong

You mainly pick him up when he refuses to go to bed after training

But once you pick him up he'll mumble about how he guesses he's a little tired

When Medic couldn't get to him in battle so you threw him over your shoulder he gets so excited

He'll be shouting things to the enemy team like "ha my s/o's so strong you don't stand a chance!"

He will brag about you every chance he gets

Demoman

He loves how strong you are

Its one of the many things he admires about you

Unlike Soldier where he's still awake Demo will fall asleep at his desk so you have to walk in there and carry him out

Though with how much he smiles in his sleep when you pick him up makes you wonder if he's actually asleep

When you threw him over you shoulder in battle to get him out of a tough spot he'll start throwing bombs at the enemy from his position

Might as well get that damage in

Pyro

They admire your strength so much

When you pick them up bridle style they feel like a princess and they're not complaining

They also do that thing where you'll hold out your arm above their head and they'll hang on to it so that they dangle above the ground

They don't know why they find it so fun

When you come to get them in battle they get so happy because it's like a scene from the Disney movies that they watch sometimes

Heavy

It takes a lot of strength to lift this man because he's got a lot of muscle

But when you do he gets so flustered

Unlike the other mercs he's never thought somebody could pick him up

He'll avoided eye contact so you don't see his blush

When you come to get him in battle he gets even more flustered than normal because it's in public

But at the same time he's not complaining

Engineer

It scares him every time you pick him up

Especially if it's without warning

So in the middle of battle when he's stuck and Medic can't get to him when he's injured you rush in to get him

Imagine his surprise when you sees you and you just scoop him up and throw him over your shoulder

He's so flustered and embarrassed 😊

Medic

Picking him up is definitely a way to get him to bed

In fact Medic with purposefully keep working so you have to pick him up to get him to bed

In the middle of battle he's surrounded and there are no health packs nearby so you have to go get him

When you rush in and throw him over you shoulder he's blushing heavily but still yelling at the enemy team

Stuff like "ohhhh what are you gonna do now that my strong s/o is here? That's right nothing"

Sniper

Probably the most flustered

You pick him up bridle style and he's blushing and muttering to himself

He does enjoy it he's just not used to people being able to do that

At one point be gets ambushed in his perch so you have to go run to get him

When you literally just throw him over your shoulder even though it's the middle of battle he's still so blushy

He'll be hiding his face from the enemy team because he doesn't want them to see his red face

Spy

He might be the most confused

He's used to being the one to pick up others

When you pick him up bridle style he gets so confused and flustered

When he got found out in the enemy base Medic told you to go get him

So you do and throw him over you shoulder so you two can get out

He'll start rambling about how you're wrinkling his suit but that's just a distraction from the blush on bis face

I had so much fun writing this

#tf2 x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 pyro x reader