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taduki · 11 months

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Hey, Taduki, I recently started reading your Arcana headcanons. They’re great! I have a headcanon request if you’re interested. M6 with an MC who has a habit of turning into cats and other animals, eventually leading to heightened senses in their human form too.

Now I see why arcana asks pages are so stressed out 😭 I’m worried about disappointin’ y’all. It’s ok tho this looks fun. REALLY sorry it took so long… I’m writing this with specific powers in mind, comparing them to the powers Atreus has from the God of War series.

M6 w/ an MC Who Can Transform into Animals and Use Their Abilities

Asra

If you ask him about your relearning of abilities when you came back, he’ll have an entire book of the shenanigans you got up to: picking a fight with the stove salamander, “Which one’s the real Faust?”, “MC, don’t eat that !!”, the list just goes on, and for the sake of old memories, you like reliving some of those moments or maybe tying up loose ends you may have caused. (No wonder why the stove salamander was always so moody around you and your cold eggs).

It was honestly stressful, so you can imagine their relief and confidence in your abilities now. He had little to no worries about leaving you at the shop alone once you got used to them. This, of course, led to the events in the story.

This turns out to be a two sided coin though because they watched you learn and grow your instincts and it only made them want you more. You’re so gifted and special, they are so fascinated with you. Just imagine your adventures with them!

On your adventures, they ask for your help way-finding, gathering, and other useful activities, but sometimes they just like to humor you by asking of you the impossible. “MC, could you take a sniff at the stars? See where we are?”, and that smug grin plastered on his face makes you want to prove them wrong so badly, so you make it up based on the actual knowledge of your location to find your way ahead, and every. single. time. they just tease you, “That’s my lover, alright.”

You had little relations with Aisha and Salim at first, so they didn’t know of your abilities, like AT ALL. So, what does the mysterious and powerful Asra The Magician do? They propose you prank them, of course, and whatever you two did became an inside job for years to come. Aisha and Salim are interested in your powers. They’re powerful magicians too, yes, but you transform with such ease. So easily that you’ve retained the instincts of the animals you can turn into. It’s safe to say they’re reassured of you as a partner for dear Asra.

Julian

You have many opportunities to spook him while he’s working.

What’s that thing behind the ink pot? Oh, it’s you! You’re a mouse. Oh, now you’re a bird. Aww what cute little creature are you going to become now? — AHH A TIGER!!

Of course, he admires your capability to retain some of the animalistic abilities while you’re in human form. He may or may not be secretly super interested in your capabilities, but knows not to pry. He’s just proud of your independent magic.

You make the funny habit of being a part of his costumes/disguises. Now “Julio” has a pet squirrel !!

Secretly loves when you sneak your way to him unexpectedly. He loves surprises if they’re you. Follow him while he’s on an errand and when he comes home, mention something casually about it and he’ll turn around, so certain and wide-eyed like, “YOU were that cat!”, when you were actually the falcon flying overhead.

On the very rare occasion that he is called upon to aid an injured animal, he’ll mention it, but won’t expect you to help. Whether you’re actually knowledgeable about the anatomy of the animal or not, you find ways to help like cleaning or standing guard for their comfort. You might also find you can empathize with them. Tell Julian where not to touch, how he can better handle them, etc.

At the end of the day, he is forever grateful for you. He’ll give you all of his love as a reward…

Portia

Dealing with Pepi constantly interrupting her work was a real pain in her day, so if you’re willing to offer, she’ll be so relieved.

That’s not the bulk of it obviously, Portia loves new things and you’re all new things in one !!

At first, she treats it like a game. “A duck!! Ooh, what about one of those fancy birds in the garden?”, so if you decide to indulge her, she’ll be going about her business on palace grounds and suddenly get an MC wolf jumpscare from the bushes. Every day, she eyes the animals suspiciously, wondering if they’re you.

If you can interact with the animals, you could help her take care of them if you’d like. “Could you pollinate the flowers for me? Pleaseeeee?”

Oh, the delightful jokes of making her hair into a bird’s nest…

If you can get her away from her work, it’ll be easy to have fun. Go for a little shopping trip in town!! It’s a mission to find specific things for good prices, and you succeed every time. Her heart bursts with her love for you when you pick up little things that remind you of her.

Palace gossip is so funny now because she’ll hear one thing, and you’ll hear another thing somewhere else entirely, so you two just end up theorizing in the afternoons. Afternoon tea is now full of even more giggles and incredulous gasps. At this point, you’re pretty sure you’ve collected every backstory in Vesuvia.

Nadia

She’s just happy she can find more ways to provide for you. There is plenty of space in the gardens if you want to roam free or sniff flowers or just take a nice nap in the sun. If you really so wish, she’ll be happy to personally set up a room for your needs.

You surprise her everyday it seems like. Every time she thinks she’s seen it all, you defy her expectations, and it delights her (and potentially startles Chandra).

Speaking of Chandra, depending on what form you’ve taken on, you might want to give her space. She’s fully aware that’s you who just looks like an animal, but she’s very headstrong and instinctual. Even if Nadia has talked to her, she’s still a bit stubborn about it and will only interact with you if you’re in human form.

Of course, there are some exceptions to Chandra’s rule. She’ll be a little more comfortable and friendly if you’re in owl form. She may preen you. Other times, she will step in to protect you if you’re in danger.

When Nadia is in Business Mode, she’ll ask for your input on issues about animals in Vesuvia if you’re comfortable about it. She wants to find ethical solutions for every party in Vesuvia, which includes animals. How can she help the Flooded District while taking care of the fish and other underwater creatures? She honestly might not have even considered this in her plans if she didn’t meet someone with your abilities.

She does not hesitate to ask for your help outside of the palace. She is very confident in your abilities and admires you for them. You have earned high respect from various visiting parties, including the animals.

Muriel

Maybe Muriel doesn’t like humans that much, but he still loves you even if you’re another human he has to trust and talk to and — … Where did this cat come from?

Blinks a few times before letting the crazy catch up to him. “MC…?”

He doesn’t know how to feel about it at first, but then he remembers he literally lives in the forest with all the animals ever. This leads to both relief and worry. Relief because he finds it easier to get settled with you now that he can apply some of his knowledge to take care of you, but worries about letting you roam around in certain forms because how will he be able to protect you?

Inanna literally knows it’s you but still gets startled when you switch in front of her. Some forms make her worried about shoving or stepping on you, but the other ones she’s perfectly fine with. The best way to play with her is switching to a form around the same size as her that can run and/or jump fast. Some days, you just spent hanging out with her, exploring the forest together, and by the time you two come back to Muriel, he’s just happy to have you two back.

Sometimes he gets a little wistfully jealous of the animals that spend so much time with you. He didn’t imagine he could, but it’s more of like, “It’s too quiet. I miss them…”, and, “I want to spend time with them too…” He tries not to let it get to him, but if it’s really bothering at some point, he’ll tell you outright, “I want to be with you”, and proceed to become a bumbling mess of “I mean, AROUND you” and whatnots.

If you incline to spend more time with him, he’ll be so grateful, yet guilty that you’re having to hold back because of him. With enough time and patience, you two would work something out where some days you come home before dinner time and spent the rest of the day with him and leave after he feeds the chickens. Go ahead and pretend you’re one of the chickens!! Show him this can be fun too!

He so badly wants you to be happy. He loves you so.

Lucio

You have GOT to tell or demonstrate this to Lucio as soon as possible or he will try to hunt you for game. If he does try to hunt you and you transform back, he’ll be all over you with the following statements:

“Oh GOD, I’m so sorry MC! Are you okay?!” “That was really cool by the way.”

Once he’s past the awkward part, he has so many questions. How far can you jump? How high can you climb? CAN YOU FLY??? Can you become imaginary creatures?

Whether you can or can’t accomplish these feats, he also has many ideas. You two are journeymen now, and you live day to day off the spoils of your hunts and adventures. He thinks, with your abilities, you two could become much more efficient, and you ask him what he plans to do with the rewards, and he gets all flustered like he doesn’t want to take you on a nice, luxurious date.

When you explain you can use some of your abilities in your present human form, he is silently relieved he won’t have to keep checking if the animals he’s hunting are you. He’s moreso impressed, though. Whenever you tell him something like “it smells like rain”, he asks what it smells like for no particular reason. He just finds it fun to ask about and likes imagining what you’re sensing.

New friend for Mercedes and Melchior !! They’re very perceptive, and have no problems differentiating you from other animals, so when Lucio loses you in a field of bunnies, he can count on them to help out, but occasionally he’ll insist on being able to find you just so he can impress you. It never works in his favor though, and he gets a nasty bunny bite… “I didn’t even know they could bite!!”

#lucio morgasson #the arcana game #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava #the arcana muriel #asra alnazar #julian devorak #lucio montag #lucio the arcana #portia devorak #the arcana imagines #the arcana x mc #the arcana hc #portia the arcana #the arcana julian #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana #the arcana nadia

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medusapelagia · 7 months

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8 Au-gust: Robots and Androids - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 [...]

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Android Steve Harrington, Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson Words: 2004

Eddie Munson always knew that his life was going to end tragically.

He lost his parents as a kid and was raised by his uncle, Wayne, a kind man who owned a farm that gave them enough to survive.

But that was before the androids.

Before the government expropriated the lands and, instead of letting the humans cultivate it, they gave it to androids and robots. That was the moment in which, suddenly, Wayne and Eddie lost everything.

Their land, their house, their freedom.

Because, and that's something that Eddie learned soon enough, money is what gives you freedom.

Wayne’s money was just enough to put Eddie on a ship to send him to a boarding school that took in poor people like him.

After that day, he never saw his uncle again.

That was one of his biggest regrets. Not having said to the man who raised him how much he loved him. How much he still does. Because somehow, deep in his heart, he is still convinced that one day they will find each other again.

Being an orphan in a school where he was accepted just for kindness was hard. His schoolmates made fun of him, making cruel pranks and he survived high school thanks to his friends, Garreth and Jeff, and his sweetheart, an old guitar that was in his family for generations.

Wayne used to say that one of their ancestors saved the world with that guitar.

It made no sense, but the guitar was like a relic to them.

The first time he actually tried to play he broke a string and cried for an entire week, but somehow Wayne managed to get him new strings, encouraging him to play.

It was hard trying to learn without a teacher, but Eddie always loved to study the mechanics of things and how things worked, so he learned how to play guitar on his own.

He knew no song, so he simply started to compose his own.

That's how he met Owens.

He was the headmaster of the school and he quickly noticed how gifted he was. The boy didn't want to study, that was clear enough, but his mind was quick and he was able to understand the mechanism behind every thing that got into his hands.

As soon as he graduated he asked him to join his organization.

Owens was the head of an organization that helped the poorer planets and gave the opportunity to study to guys who would have never had the opportunity, just like Eddie, and maybe something more.

***

When Eddie opens his eyes he is not expecting to see a little woman with a big smile at his side.

"You are up. Good. How do you feel?"

"Am I dead?" maybe he died and that was paradise, or he didn't die and they were just waiting to nurse him back to health before killing him.

"No, you are not dead. Your android did his best to keep you safe."

"He is not my android. He is a hunter and I'm his captive."

"In any case, he did his best to keep you alive. Dustin told me that he was almost going to burn out into flames when you got here."

Eddie scoffs "We did have a... hard landing.” That was an understatement. He did his best to fuck up the stupid ship and he is quite proud of the job he did “But trying to save my life is in his your stupid code or something like that. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. I can assure you that."

She hums, not wanting to address the matter.

"Where am I?" Eddie asks, looking around him searching for any information who could tell him where the fuck he is.

The woman smiles again, god, her smile is so similar to his mother's one "You are on a little planet called Hawkins. It's desert for the majority but there are a few human outposts. We live in peace. We have nothing worth stealing or fighting for. You and your android are the most exciting things that have happened in a long time."

The android. Where the fuck is he? Did he already call the Central station for help? He surely would have if he was in his place, so he asks "Where is the android?"

"Are you worried for him?"

He is not worried. He is a fucking android and he wants to bring him back to the central station where they will likely put him to death without a trial so he is not really looking forward to it.

"I just want to know where he is and if I can escape from him."

"You are a criminal. A murderer, he said."

That's not totally true.

He is a criminal, but he is not a murderer.

He knows what the android was referring to when he found him on the casino planet.

Not the greatest idea he has ever had, but when he managed to find a lead on Vecna Eddie left, without telling anybody, and now here he is, on a little planet unknown to most, captive of a fucking hunter.

God, Owens and the guys will be so pissed. And his sweetheart will be heartbroken. He should have taught Jeff or Garreth how to play, but now it's too late.

"Not a murderer." he replies.

"Are you saying that the android is lying?"

No, androids can't lie. He surely has some information about him on his database, but that doesn't mean that they are correct.

There is a long moment of silence between them, then the woman pulls her sleeve up "When I was dressing your wounds I saw that we have something in common." she says, showing a faded tattoo of a dice on the inside of her arm.

Eddie has one behind his right ear.

"You?"

"Yes. But I'm formally retired. I have a family to take care of." she replies to the unsaid question, hiding her tattoo.

"Family?"

"Yeah. Two boys and a girl." she replies, still smiling.

"They are all here?"

"Yes, they are. We moved here a few years ago after we made sure none could follow us."

So this woman used to be part of the same secret society he is a member of, and she left them. Eddie tries to think about the names that were written in the big book that Owen guarded with care.

“Gone, but not forgotten.” he used to say, caressing the pages. Paper pages. Something really unusual in a society that relies on technology to do almost anything.

"Data can be erased, or lost. The paper will last forever if we treat it well enough. When we used to live on planet Earth there were papyrus that were older than the world itself."

Probably an exaggeration, but it made the point clear.

"What's your name?" he asks, still thinking about the thick book he has seen so many times.

"Are you going to rat me out, boy?"

No. He isn't. So it doesn't matter.

"My name is Joyce and I'm a doctor. Your android will not take you away until I say that you are good enough to travel, and I know that I can find a way to help you escape from him but I really don't want the army to get to our planet and if you are as dangerous as he said you are, they will come for you. I want to be clear with you: my family is the most important thing in the world and I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe."

Ok. Great. She could help him hide but he has to get out of her hair as soon as he can.

He can do that. He just has to find a ship and try to outrun the stupid android.

"Where is he?" Eddie asks again.

"Stevie?"

"Uh?"

"He said you call him that."

He did. In the middle of the fucking desert he named a stupid android.

It means nothing.

It means everything.

"We are not friends if that is what you are implying. He is an android and I am a human. I named it as I name a lot of things. I could name this fucking sheets. And maybe I will... I'll call them Lonnie. Ok?"

The woman laughs and then goes back to the old computer system behind her.

"You were injured during the landing but they were only superficial wounds. You are still dehydrated, even if your blood is getting more liquid. The drip you are connected to is giving you enough substance to help your body heal faster as well as hydrating you and I reckon that in a couple of days, you'll be good as new." she closes the screen "On the other side, Stevie was badly injured and he refused to be repaired. He dragged my husband to his ship. They told me it's not a wreck but it's not in good condition either. The thing that they are trying to repair quickly is the radio and you know what that means."

If the android gets in contact with the central station he is definitely fucked. They already know that the android got him, what they do not know is what happened after. He made sure to break the radio first.

"You did a good job on the radio. Not a good one on the rest but I suppose that being handcuffed didn't help."

Hell no. It didn't.

It was fucking hard trying to get free of that stupid android and even if crashing them on this stupid planet wasn’t exactly what he was looking for, it’s ok. Still better than getting back to the Central.

Fuck the android and the stupid price on his head!

“Fuck. You are going to help him adjust his stupid ship?”

“My husband is with him but I don’t think it will be a quick repair. He will probably call for help and then someone will get here.”

“Which is exactly what you don’t want. Am I wrong?”

The woman sits next to him “No you are not. So what are you going to do Eddie? Is that your real name?”

“Not everyone changes identities like clothes, milady. I was born with this name and I want to die with it.”

The woman nods but doesn’t agree with him.

“I have kids, Eddie, and I will protect them. Fiercely. Are you going to be a treat to my family?”

He doesn’t know. He never meant to be a threat to anyone to be honest, but he knows that some of their military actions had collateral damages.

Like Chrissy.

God.

He loved that girl.

He loved her so much. Too much! Why the fuck did he let her get so close to him? That was fucking stupid on his part.

That’s how Vecna found her.

She was sweet, kind, and fluffy like a stupid bunny, even if Eddie had never seen one for real.

And now she is dead and he is going to die soon without taking his vengeance on the android who killed her.

Vecna it’s the best android that the Brennan corporation has unleashed against them.

He is like a fucking shark. Like the sharks can detect a small drop of blood in the water from a mile away, he can detect the members of the secret society.

And poor Chrissy got involved somehow.

Maybe Vecna saw them together in some video from the video surveillance cameras, maybe it was just a coincidence. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he must break that fucking piece of junk into pieces so small that none will ever be able to put him back together again.

Eddie knows that he has damaged him enough during their encounter on the casino planet, but not enough to break him.

Can it even be broken?

Maybe he should try to practice on the stupid hunter android that got him.

I have never done a tag list before, but if someone would like to be tagged feel free to ask and I'll gladly do it! Tag list: @shunna, @yourmom-isgay I hope you enjoy it!

#tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #android AU #Android Steve Harrington #Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson #medusapelagia fanfic #medusapelagia #my fanfic

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mamamittens · 6 months

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Don't Lose Your Head About It

Part 3/13 of Spooktober 2023

Thatch!DullahanXOC(Nikia)

Modern day AU

Warnings: Casual/nonfatal beheading, flirting, kidnapping, and attempted ritual sacrifice.

Word Count: 5,378

It was, in all honesty, a terrible habit of Thatch’s to lose his head after a party.

Or would it be to lose his body?

Either way, sometime during a fun, booze filled party, Thatch always ended up with his head in one place and his body somewhere else entirely. It was embarrassing but the hangover-laden game his family made to find both parts was kind of fun. It was hard for Thatch not to say he was grateful to be a Dullahan, given the many hilarious pranks he’s managed over the years. But then again, it was such a pain in the ass trying to figure out where the hell both halves were.

Of course, this time was different.

Thatch didn’t remember getting quite as drunk this time, but there was definitely a point where he stopped clearly remembering the night’s events. And waking up was disorientating as hell.

He was moving, for one.

Well, his head was moving at least. His body felt like it was on solid, familiar ground. By the distant sensation, he’d have to guess it was the carpet in the study but he could be wrong. A lot of the carpets in his father’s house felt the same. It didn’t help that he could barely feel it to begin with. The scratchy texture fuzzy and slow to register.

Almost like he was really far away from his body. And wrapped in cotton.

He could also barely move his body or his head. It was like dragging a spoon through a bowl of syrup. What could have been traffic blared around him. Maybe he was in a car?

There was a sudden screech and a great clash of metal. His head launching in an unforeseen direction as glass shattered.

Thatch’s face smashed into something and he distantly realized he must have gone through a window? Maybe?

But he wasn’t sure and the fabric around his head was too thick to tell.

It was cold though. And wet. And smelled like stale piss, which sucked ass cause it felt like he was nose first in a puddle of it. The assault to his senses doing his hangover no favors.

Thatch knows he passed out for a moment.

He came to colder than before despite his body being warm. The conflicting sensations making his head swim.

He swallowed hard, mouth dry and faintly nauseated.

“…ello? Hello? Is anyone there?” Thatch called out, his voice echoing in his ears due to the fabric. He felt more aware of his surroundings now, but still oddly numb. “A little help here, guys! This isn’t funny, c’mon!”

There was the sound of soft footsteps that paused suddenly.

“…Is someone there?” A soft voice called out hesitantly, sounding a little perturbed. He didn’t recognize them, but it was hard to think at the moment. Their voice sounded a bit low and sweet. Faintly feminine?

“Here! Somewhere, at least—Sorry, I can’t see. Just follow my voice!” Thatch sighed, resolving to lay off the drink for a while. He heard them getting closer.

“The bag? Uhhhh… are you?” They seemed to hesitate before he felt the fabric pull around his face. Light filtering in as what was apparently a bag opened up. “A-Ahhh?!? Ah?!? Are you okay?!? Where—where’s the rest?! Is there a—Are you cursed???”

Thatch blinked, eyes focusing up at his unexpected savior.

A soft, pale face with red cheeks and nose from the cold air. Pale grayish-blue eyes wide behind large glasses that fogged up from her breath. Scarf tucked up over her chin and under the collar of a large black coat. Blue curls tangling around her chin with thin teal braids dangling down her front. She was squatting down carefully to avoid sitting on the filthy ground and Thatch didn’t blame her—it smelled damn foul and he felt gross laying it it.

She was quite startled—understandably so considering she just opened up a bag in an alleyway to find a head.

“It’s okay! I’ve just gotten a little… misplaced is all. I’m Thatch, a Dullahan. Can you tell me where I am?” Thatch asked kindly. She blinked, her expression pinched just a little.

“Oh. W-Well, you’re in Dovetown. Downtown Dovetown, to be specific.” She informed him, grimacing a little as she picked open the bag a little more.

“Dovetown?! That’s… I think a bit over two hours away from my house! How the hell—never mind! Listen, I hate to ask but could you… pick me up? I’ll try and let my brothers know where I am but it’ll take a while for them to find me.” Thatch winced, hating that he was asking for help like this instead of something more pleasant. Certainly not his preferred way to meet a pretty woman.

“Of course! Would you like to stay at my place until they get here? I’d feel awful just… leaving you in a coffee shop or something.” Her hands twitched in the open air, fingertips a rosy hue from the cold as she hesitated. “Sorry, I’ve never had to… pick up someone’s head before. My name is Nikia, by the way—oh, wait!”

Nikia leaned back, opening her jacket to remove her scarf and arrange it on her lap in a pile. The blue fabric pooling into a nest shape. She looked back at him and grimaced, hesitating before touching him. He could feel the chill from her hands before she gently cradled his cheeks, palms surprisingly warm as she lifted him free from the bag and placed his head in her lap.

She picked at the fabric for a moment until he was a little more cozy.

It was certainly sweeter than anything his brother’s had ever done when he’d gotten separated from his body.

He once scared Marco so bad his head was punted clear over the back fence and into a patch of bushes. His nose had to be bandaged for a week—Marco refusing to treat it for scaring the shit out of him. Thatch almost deserved that one but still.

Thatch realized he could feel his body much more clearly now.

“Thank you—what? What kind of bag was I in?” Thatch asked in concern. Nikia looked past him and leaned forward to pick it up for an inspection.

Thatch was man enough to admit he didn’t mind at all when he was temporarily blinded by the soft warmth of her chest. A shape unmistakable even through her thick sweater, jacket open just enough to afford him this unique position. He avoided commenting on it though, not wanting to make this more awkward. Her perfume smelled nice, though. Floral and soft.

Nikia still noticed his mild predicament, quickly leaning back with a black bag in her hands and a grimace.

“S-Shit! Sorry—thought I had more room, uh… Anyway! This bag looks expensive!” Nikia blurted out, lifting it up with a strange expression. She picked at the fabric. “Magic runes stitched in with some kind of thread. Not normal thread at least. Looks like silver and smells like… well, piss honestly, but also herbs? Who’d you piss off to be put in a magic-blocking bag, Thatch?”

Thatch frowned.

“I’ve definitely stepped on some toes, mostly family, but nothing to earn that. This probably isn’t good.” Thatch mused. Nikia nodded, carefully folding it up and putting it in her pocket. “My family does have enemies but I was at a party last night. For someone to take my head without anyone else noticing… definitely not good.” Thatch confirmed.

“Then we should probably go. I doubt they meant to leave you here… were you in a car? It’s just, there was an accident an hour ago just over there.” Nikia asked. Thatch nodded carefully, not intending to roll off her thighs into the filthy alleyway.

While he was at it, he sat up and cautiously searched for a door. Making sure to knock on walls so alert anyone nearby that he was currently headless.

“Well then, uhm… I… I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to have to put you in either my bag—which has a lot of groceries in it—or my… jacket. If you’ve been stolen like this bag suggests I don’t think you want them to know you’ve been found until your folks get here.” Nikia pulled a backpack off her shoulders and opened it, the two of them grimacing when plastic bags burst out.

“I don’t have any complaints, it’s cold as shit out here, but if you’re not comfortable maybe you can take out some bags and fit me in there?” Thatch offered, not wanting to leap to the arguably more comfortable though pervy option for someone that’s possibly risking themselves for his safety.

Nikia huffed.

“I would, but if they’re already here and searching they’d have seen me not carrying bags… Try not to talk until I get home, alright?” Nikia asked softly, flushed from embarrassment and the cold.

“Of course—and thank you! I know this is a little weird.” Thatch apologized.

Carefully, Nikia opened her jacket more and pulled him in. Contrary to what he assumed at first, she didn’t put him up on her chest. It was a little silly, now that he thought about it. There was no way his whole head would fit there and zip up to hide him. Instead, she bundled him up over her stomach, using her hands in her pockets to hold him in place. It was much warmer though dark, making it easy to focus on alerting his family to his predicament.

She stood up and casually walked away from the alley.

Thatch found a door and opened it, knocking on the walls as he tried to figure out where in his father’s house he was. After a couple of minutes, hands brushed his shoulders, down to his arms. A firm but gentle finger moved over his palm.

“It’s Ace, how drunk did you get?” Ace spelled onto his open palm. Thatch signed back.

“Not that drunk. Someone took my head and put it in a magic-blocking bag. I was found by a nice girl in downtown Dovetown. I think whoever did it got in a car crash. She’s taking me to her place until you guys can come get me.”

Ace’s hand was hotter than before.

“Who?” He aggressively spelled before grabbing his hand and leading Thatch elsewhere with fast steps. Thatch nearly tripped, distracted from following Ace by the sound of an elevator. Thatch could feel Ace’s voice vibrating along his arm—he must’ve been pissed.

“Are you safe?” Someone grabbed his hand and spelled out. The finger felt thin and calloused. Marco.

“Yes, I think she just got to her apartment. She snuck me in, in case whoever did it was looking.” Thatch pulled away his hand and signed. Thatch heard keys and felt the support under his head lessen before a door opened. His hand was gently grabbed and he felt her move around, likely dropping off her bag, before the zipper went down.

His bubble of warm air dispersed and he was carefully pulled free. Nikia set him down on a marble countertop. The apartment was pretty nice, a fair amount of clutter on the shelves and other surfaces. Not overly neat but contained.

Thatch turned to find her removing her coat and putting away her groceries. He felt a little scandalized at how little ingredients she had in her fridge and cupboards, though he acknowledged that it was mostly because he always cooked. By all appearances, she never did.

“Well, do I need to call someone or have you somehow managed to tell them where you are?” She asked, putting away some fruit. At least her diet wasn’t completely ramen and chips.

“I have, though an address would be helpful.” Thatch smiled. She paused, wincing.

“Ah… let me find mail. I never remember it right.” Nikia looked around and plucked a letter, sliding it over for him to see.

Thatch dutifully let Marco know her address. He felt Marco write on his hand.

“We’ll be there in about two hours, depending on the traffic. Stay where you are.”

Once his attention was back to his head, Thatch realized Nikia was looking at him. Her expression was a little weird. Slightly awkward and concerned, brows pinched as she chewed on her lip.

“What?” He asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

She looked back at him and nodded with a small grimace.

“Yeah… I didn’t want to say anything but you’ve got a few light cuts and—I’m not sure what was in that alley but I don’t think you want that on you any longer than it has to be.” Nikia explained delicately. “I can clean you up but it feels rude?”

Thatch hissed, suddenly aware that he could still smell stale piss and garbage over her soft perfume.

“Oh!” Thatch grimaced. It was kind of rude to handle a Dullahan’s head if you didn’t know them well. But that was generally without permission, and given his current state, he didn’t mind. “Please do—I am so sorry about this, really.”

“Okay, let me wet a rag to get the worst of it off.” Nikia smiled. Thatch felt his body being guided into a car.

She returned with a warm, wet rag and some disinfectant. She crouched down a little and gently wiped his face clean. Thatch felt fairly touched at how attentive she was to him, soft hands barely brushing his skin she was being so careful. He could feel the small cuts on his face, likely from being launched out of a car. It stung to have them cleaned up, but given how filthy the alley was, he didn’t argue.

“Thanks, I feel better already!” Thatch grinned and winked, “Not everyday I get such a cute nurse!”

She snorted, tossing the dirty rag in the sink.

“Don’t get too excited. You still smell. Nothing I can do about the hair, knowing our luck my hands would slip and I’d end up waterboarding you.” She mused. Thatch gasped, horrified.

“My hair?! What’s wrong with my hair?!” He jerked his head to try and look but failed. Thinking on it, it didn’t feel like his usual pompadour. There seemed to be strands over his face.

“Well, it’s kind of gross right now. You were in a bag for a few hours at least so whatever style you had it in is gone. Very… messy.” Nikia tapped his nose, her smile particularly toothy. “But you’re still pretty cute, I guess.” She cackled softly at his misfortune. Despite himself, Thatch smiled back.

“Only cute? I’m a man, you know. I’m supposed to be ‘ruggedly handsome’.” Thatch whined, delighted when her smile grew despite the flush on her cheeks. “Have some mercy now, my pride can’t take much more!” he jokingly wailed, trying to not also throw his hands up and accidentally smack someone. Or distract what was likely Marco from driving safely.

“Oh, I guess we can’t have that, now can we? Hmmm… I suppose ‘ruggedly handsome’ isn’t too bad of a description. Fits your scruffy look well enough. But I find your smile more charming. Really lights up your eyes, they’re very beautiful, anyone ever tell you that?” She smirked, gray eyes shifting to a vivid blue like the autumn sky. “Now that your ego is sufficiently fluffed, how’s some tv sound? We’ve got… a bit over an hour and a half left until your folks get here.”

Thatch felt his heart thump hard in his chest, very pleased at the return fire.

“Sure.” His voice was faint. Oh, he was absolutely in trouble, and it had nothing to do with his current displacement.

He watched as she placed pillows on her couch to help prop him up without rolling away and they both enjoyed the quiet company.

Without meaning to, he signed to his brothers.

“This is the worst. I’m just a head and my hair’s a mess, how am I supposed to get her number like this?” Thatch wished he was a little closer to her but refrained from commenting on it.

There was another gentle tug and his hand was pulled open by Ace.

“Marco says, ‘what happened to being able to charm anyone you wanted’? I agree, you talk a big game but now you can’t chat your way into her contacts? Such a shame, Thatch. Guess you’re all talk. Or less than that!” Ace flicked his palm jokingly and Thatch blindly smacked at his hand.

There was a knock at the door, startling them both. Thatch looked at Nikia’s confused expression. His brother’s certainly weren’t here yet.

She gave him a cautious glance and got up to answer the door.

“Hello—what the hell!?” Nikia yelped, the door slamming open and heavy footsteps pounding into the apartment.

Horrified, Thatch saw a tall, masked man start searching the apartment. He signed to his brothers as he was spotted.

“Found him—let’s get going, the boss is pissed enough as it is!”

“Hey!”

Thatch was roughly picked up by his hair and saw Nikia being held back by her arms, lifted up as her legs kicked furiously.

“What about her?”

“Leave her alone, she’s got nothing to do with this!” Thatch barked, “Who the hell are you guys?!”

“Eh, take her. Maybe boss’ll use her too. Sacrificial rituals don’t mind extras, do they?” He laughed, dropping Thatch into a bag. Instantly, his body fell limp and like it was surrounded by cotton. Magic.

He faintly heard someone getting hit and Nikia fall silent.

Thatch still desperately signed as he listened to them being taken from the apartment building. Clumsily describing the directions and any hint as to where they were.

For the second time in a single day, Thatch was being blindly transported by a car against his will. And unfortunately he’s gotten Nikia mixed up in this mess as well.

They came to a stop in an area with the faint sounds of construction. Sliding doors opening with soft grinds and he was unceremoniously tossed.

Thankfully, he was caught before slamming into the ground for a second time.

“Zehehehehe~ Took you long enough!” Thatch’s heart froze, his stomach dropping.

“Teach?” Thatch asked, hands signing at the same time. “Is this a prank?! What kind of shit are you pulling?!”

There was a pause.

“Ah, shit. Thought they’d knocked you out too. Sorry, Thatch. It’s nothing personal. But I finally got my hands on the ritual, you see, and it’s the damndest thing!” The bag opened a little, Teach grinning down at him with his checkerboard smile. “Calls for a ‘Dullahan head’! All I need and finally, power is mine! Who’s your friend? You always did have a way of charming people, zehahaha!”

“We’re on the way!” Ace spelled after grabbing his hand, fingers almost burning hot. The bag was closed back up and Teach walked off.

“Eh, put her in a chair. If she wakes up, she can watch. The ritual doesn’t call for anything else but maybe the demon will want dessert?” Teach jeered, dropping Thatch out of the bag and into a bowl. He could just barely see over the sides. Chalk circles, lines, and symbols were all around him. Small piles and bowls at various points.

The warehouse was mostly dim, lit far above with yellowed lights. Dust floating around the space between walls of shipping crates. Outside of the ritual circle, a folding chair was put out and Nikia placed roughly on. Hands tied behind her back as her head hung down. Still out.

If things went south, he hoped it stayed that way. He didn’t want her to see this.

“Almost there, we’re five minutes out from the shipyard. Less—Marco’s speeding. It’s the only place with warehouses near downtown.” Ace informed him. “Try and buy us time.”

“What power, Teach! What’s worth the risk of pissing off our entire family—betraying them like this?!” Thatch demanded. Teach looked up from a massive grimoire. He grinned sharply.

“The kind of power that would knock even pops out of the sky, Thatch.” Teach replied simply. “I’ve been looking for damn near two decades—it’s actually a bit emotional for me to finally have it in my hands, you know. Shame it needs this but you’re the only Dullahan I know so…” He shrugged.

“The promise of power and you fold like wet paper? For a demon’s bargain, Teach?! You know the price is never what you think it will be!” Thatch shouted, a soft groan bringing his attention to Nikia as she sat up with a grimace.

“…ow? What the hell, man?” She squinted, glasses askew. “A demonic ritual? Really?” She wrinkled her nose and jerked her head, trying to right her glasses with minimal success. Teach laughed.

“Neither of you have vision like I do!” Teach scoffed.

“You know they’re on the way, right? His folks?” Nikia asked softly. “Power like that needs practice or it’ll burn you alive—especially if you don’t already have anything like it. Can you really afford to do this right now?” she looked at him, sparing Thatch only a brief glance.

Teach looked a little spooked, apparently unaware that Thatch had already managed to contact their—his—family.

“All the more reason to do this now. You know how rare Dullahan’s are around here?” Teach clicked his tongue. Nikia looked oddly thoughtful.

Something passed over her face and she leaned back, smiling sweetly with a bit too much teeth. The room felt colder, like she brushed her frigid hands over his cheeks.

“Oh, in that case, I hope you don’t mind if I make myself more comfortable.” Nikia seemed to coo, rolling her shoulders and pulling her hands free. They both looked at her in confusion, glancing to the hired goons who were equally confused.

“Don’t look at us, boss! I tied the knots tight!”

Teach laughed, slightly nervous as Nikia kept smiling, fixing her glasses before neatly folding her hands in her lap.

“What’s the matter? Having a hard time coming up with a good idea?” Nikia asked in a voice that, despite sounding sweet, implied more malice than he thought possible.

“And what are you, exactly? You’re definitely not human!” Teach accused.

Nikia laughed sharply, eyes a luminous blue in the dim light. There was a shift in the air, almost like dust was settling in place around her. Spread out like wings.

“Not exactly wrong.” She conceded with a smile. “My family line hasn’t been totally human in generations.”

“An angel then?” Teach hissed.

“Pft!” Nikia snorted in amusement, touching her lips in an effort to hide her smile. “An angel? How sweet of you to say! But no, I’m sure I’d be much more unsettling if I was. Not too far off though. Still no inspiration, love?” the endearment rolled off her tongue like an insult.

“Tell me what you are before I add your head!” Teach bristled, never one to handle being outmatched well.

“A friend of the arts. If poetry is a river, I am the source. A bolt in the blue to the philosopher, enigma to the dull. You know me, Thatch. Teach. Patrons of arts yourselves—cooking and theatre. My kind have inspired for generations and been companions of gods.” Nikia chuckled. “Though I am of a far more humble stock than those lofty sources, you’ve still felt my gift before. I know it.”

“…a muse.” Thatch whispered in shock. He knew there were some around. Usually living large in centers of entertainment or whatever. A hefty price tag to even speak to them.

Teach whipped his head to Thatch and back to Nikia.

“A muse?! You’re a muse?!” She laughed and nodded. Thatch felt his body jerk to a stop and be pulled from the car.

“An ‘every day’ muse, as it were. I’m not inspiring the next great artist or anything, but I do inspire your next unexpected favorite recipe or the lie that saves your ass. And I’m afraid you just don’t have my blessing, Teach. Good luck working on the fly when you’re dry of any ideas.” Nikia laughed darkly. “And I think you’ll need that very soon~”

There was a scream outside, a howl ripping through the air and Thatch grinned at Teach’s pale face.

Now, Thatch knew, without Nikia fucking with the room, Teach would have probably started the ritual already. In theory, he might have just enough time to do it, depending on how long the chanting was. But it was too late now, the man clearly frozen as his mind raced to think of a solution. Failing to adapt despite hiding his true intentions for years. Something that had to be accomplished with quick thinking.

Ah. That’s right, she said Teach was a patron of theatre. And he’s lied to everyone this whole time. Makes sense.

The door slammed open with a snarl and wave of fire.

“TEACH!” Ace bellowed, partially transformed, flames popping off his skin and face partially blackened. Hellhound fangs bared as he hunched over, transformation rushing forward until a massive, bipedal hellhound stood with black fur streaked with strawberry blond along his spine. Blue flames billowing over him as Marco flew in, pulling Thatch’s body with him in sharp, golden talons.

In comparison, it was a little hilarious how ordinary Thatch looked… or his body at least. The stump where his head would usually be puffing black smoke but otherwise just a fairly fit man in rumpled clothes. Now close to his body, Thatch navigated the odd perspective with practiced ease, rushing over to pick up his head as Teach flailed. Trying to avoid being gored by Ace and Marco working in deadly tandem. He sputtered, trying to say something to cover his ass, but it was for nothing.

Panic making him stumble just as much as his words despite being fairly adept in fighting. But Thatch wasn’t worried about Teach anymore. His hands carefully scooping up his head and putting it in place. Smoke puffing out as the seam sealed back up nearly flawlessly.

It felt good to be reunited with his body. Spine tingling as he properly reconnected. When he was certain he wouldn’t get dizzy and stumble, Thatch ran over to Nikia, confident his brothers could handle the rest.

“Nikia! Are you alright?” Thatch asked, kneeling down and looking at her closely, his palms cupping her cheeks. Worried about the blow to her head and if there were other, adverse effects. He wasn’t familiar with muses, in all honesty, so it was possibly actively using her powers did something to her. Her face was a little bruised and her skin paler than before, but otherwise she seemed okay, much to his relief. A bit cold in just a sweater and jeans, thin socks doing her no favors against the cold concrete. She smiled, shoulders drooping as she relaxed from the cocky, aloof pose she perfectly distracted Teach with.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Funny thing about muses, you can’t really contain them, you know?” Nikia chuckled. Thatch laughed. There was a scream behind him but it sounded like Teach so he elected to ignore it.

“Right. Trying to bottle inspiration never works, does it?” Thatch considered. “You’re cold though, aren’t you? Here, it’s not much but…” Thatch shrugged off his jacket and she smiled, accepting the thin chef’s jacket.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, soft lips lingering briefly, much to his enjoyment. His body suffused with warmth at the sweet gesture as he put his arms around her shoulders. Offering another counter to the chill in the warehouse.

“Welp! We’re all wrapped up here!” Ace bounded over with a wide smile. “Thanks for helping Thatch out! I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t picked him up. Say! Did you, perhaps, give him your number?” Ace asked innocently.

“Smooth. Real smooth, Ace.” Marco chided, dragging Teach behind him.

“What! You heard him going on—”

“ANYWAY! Let’s! Get you home!” Thatch interrupted loudly, Nikia laughing at his misery as he helped her up. She stepped delicately, sticking close to him as she shivered. “Is getting cold easily a muse thing?”

She shook her head.

“No. Just me.” Nikia scowled, clambering into the car as Marco tossed Teach into the back carelessly. “So is he… going to jail or something? Pretty sure unauthorized demonic rituals carry a fine at least.” Ace snorted, now mostly human, though his eyes were still burning hot.

“Pops is going to take care of him. Our family is a bit… different. Besides, he’ll need to make sure that Teach hasn’t done anything else and covered it up.”

“Oh. So you’re in a gang.” Nikia commented breezily. “Do ya’ll do the concrete shoes these days or is that like, a quaint, niche thing?”

“We are not in a gang!” Thatch yelped. “We’re a family!”

“Ah. So the mob. Sorry, I’m not familiar with the difference. Going to make him an offer he can’t refuse?” Nikia grinned wide, flashing her teeth at Thatch with an amused expression.

“I think Thatch might have an offer you can’t refuse~” Ace mused, Thatch leaning forward to slap the back of his head. “Ow! I’m trying to help!”

“Stop helping!”

Nikia cackled loudly, Marco grinning at him through the rearview mirror.

Despite Ace’s attempts to embarrass him, Thatch did get her number. Something that only earned him more teasing when they returned home so their father could decide Teach’s punishment.

“What’s the matter, Thatch? I thought you’d be thrilled that you could get her number even though you were just a head the entire time… and you got her kidnapped and almost involved in a demonic ritual. And then she asked if you were part of the mafia.” Ace paused, hopping out of the car with a contemplative expression. “Wow. What a shit first date. Maybe you actually aren’t that good with women? Yikes. RIP dude.”

Marco abruptly dropped Teach onto the ground, wheezing with laughter. Their father watching fondly from the porch, laughing as Thatch slammed his head onto the side of the car.

“You guys made a four hour round trip to save me from being a demonic sacrifice, but somehow I feel less loved than when I was told I smell like stale piss.” Thatch whined and resolved to make the most bitter food for dinner tonight—Ace hated bitter food. And so did Marco, they both got to suffer. Best idea he’d had all day.

“Was this before or after she was taken from her home and held captive in a warehouse for you?” Ace smirked, dodging Thatch’s attempt to pop the back of his head again. “No wonder the poor lady thought we were involved in organized crime.”

“I don’t think the pyromaniac and a chronic thief has room to talk about being a criminal. How often did you dine and dash as a kid again?” Thatch snarked, throwing his hands into the air when his remark was laughed off, smiling to himself as he headed inside.

Not a day later, he was making a large dinner at his father’s house, toying with the idea of making a private meal for Nikia. Just the two of them. Despite Teach being well taken care of, most of his family very reluctant to let him out of their sight. But he thought he could manage to slip free for a date.

Ah. A nice roast is a great idea! It takes hours to make even if I prep ahead of time, so I’ve got a great excuse to hang around. With homemade bread and—Thatch paused. Belatedly realizing that he’s been doing that a lot lately. Coming up with new recipes and such to try. Broadening his already wide horizons.

…Finding new favorite recipes.

Thatch grinned, taking out his phone and shooting her a text, asking if he could make her dinner tomorrow. He knew what the answer would be though.

His phone played a jaunty little tune and he looked, flush with anticipation.

“I’d love to see you again!”

After all, it’s not every day you’re kissed by a muse.

#one piece #spooktober 2023 #thatch one piece #thatch X OC #OC Nikia

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asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog · 7 months

Text

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: A meeting is called to discuss the Vigilante Phantom

Word count: 2185

Chapter 7: Meeting Topic: Phantom

7/?

It had been a few hours after the Stain and Phantom incident. Every hero who had interacted with the unknown vigilante was called for a meeting after they discussed what would be done with The Hero Killer. Taishiro, the BMI hero: Fat Gum, had been waiting 3 hours in a white hallway. He could’ve gone home, washed off the grime and mental weight of the day, but he was plagued with a prickling anxiety. He was one of the only heroes who talked with the boy, so his information and perspective was critical.

The office doors swung open and a small cluster of drones in suits exited.

“The meeting will start in a few minutes” A woman by the door called out to the hallway. She turned back inside but left the door open. There were only a few other people, all of them heroes, in the hall waiting with him. Most of them were in their civilian clothes, but like him, the rest were still draped in their hero costumes.

No one moved for a moment, so Taishiro decided it must be him to make the first move. In stilted motions, he got up and approached the open door. The doorway was wide and tall to accommodate those with larger physiques. Taishiro had already shed the weight of his quirk earlier that night and went through without fuss. There were people still remaining in the room. They all had tired expressions, as if being there sucked all life out, which made sense as they were previously discussing The Hero Killer. At the front of the table was Endeavor, and although he always looked angry to Taishiro, on his face was a mirrored expression with everyone else, although he hid it well. Taishiro quickly found an empty seat and silently sat down. The others from the hallway followed in silently. Noise didn’t even exist in the room, it was like even the air held its breath, even the chairs were quiet as people settled in, due to the carpeted floors. The room had the atmosphere of a high school detention. But the situation was much more serious than a prank on a teacher.

A few other heroes were already in the room alongside Endeavor. From how Taishiro understood it, they were there when the Hero Killer was defeated. The other occupants of the room were an official from the Hero Commission, two cops judging from their demeanor (one with a dog head), and surprisingly enough, the principal of UA (or maybe that should be expected considering his intellect and that 3 students were involved). After everyone filed in from the hallway, the women shut the door and sat beside the official.

That was the queue for the official to start talking, she stood up like how a king would address his court, and announced, “I am Jin Makoto, I will be the acting representative of the Hero Commission.” Her voice was monotone, but strict. Her face was apathetic, but Taishiro got the impression that it was from boredom. Although she dressed professionally, her blue hair in half-up box braids and wearing a black tailored suit, her eyes were sunken and puffy from lack of sleep.

“As you all should know, we are here to discuss the new vigilante known as 'Phantom'” her eyes scanned across the room and not a pair of eyes strayed from her, “Some of you may be wondering why him? Why is this vigilante so special? These are the wrong questions. They question him alone , not the overall picture that he is a part of” She gave Endeavor a pointed look, “there have been 'sightings'” she rolled her eyes at the phrase, as if they were discussing bigfoot, “all over Hosu earlier tonight. He appeared to be entirely focused on doing rescue missions and was able to travel between locations at a speed comparable to Hawks.” A few gasps filled the room. Ms. Makoto coughed to get their attention back, “If it was just this issue, a meeting would not be necessary, as we could easily counteract him and 'bring him to justice''” she let her annoyance slip through, “However, and I’m sure some of you have guessed, that was not the only quirk he has exhibited.” She finished and she let the gravity of what she just said sink into the room.

The pin dropped, and then suddenly heroes erupted in questions, even Taishiro gasped. The only ones who remained quiet were principal Nezu, who had not said anything during the meeting, and the heroes left over from the Stain meeting, who all bowed their heads to the ground.

“Are you sure this is the case? What if you are mistaking him for a bunch of different people?” A hero, whose name escaped Taishiro, rang out in the clamor. It was a valid question, one that even Taishiro could reason out. Of course, a person couldn’t have more than one quirk, unless it was a natural combination of their parents, but judging from how Ms. Makoto stated it, left little room that this was the case. He remembered his run in with the vigilante. The chill he got when he looked into the boy’s eyes and maw... A shiver ran along his spine.

She looked at the hero in annoyance, as if she was upset at him for not taking her word, “Although each encounter was brief, they are all consistent in how he was described. An adolescent appearing roughly 17-18 years of age, white floating hair, and blue skin wearing a black & white hazmat suit. There is also the matter of his involvement with the Hero Killer.” The room once again plunged into silence.

Although they weren’t allowed to be on their phones or look at any media outlets before the meeting, they all were aware of the defeat and subsequent capture of the Hero Killer. That kind of thing you can’t put a lid on, but it was tight. The only information that anyone knew was that 3 UA kids happened upon Stain and Endeavor had defeated the villain. There was no mention of a possible accomplice.

“This meeting is of course confidential, but what I’m about to say doesn’t exist outside of this room. The person responsible for the defeat of Stain,” she paused letting the tension build, “is Phantom.”

More gasps filled the room as everyone turned to Endeavor. He sat rigidly, the stature of pride and strength. If he felt anything about that statement, he didn’t let it show.

“Wait, doesn’t that mean he’s on our side?” Another hero spoke out. This time Taishiro did recognize him, he was the Normal Hero: Manual. “All you’ve said was that he rescued people and defeated Stain? I was even one of the people he saved.” other heroes spoke up in agreement. Taishiro would have liked to join him, but their previous interaction repeated in his head. How the boy sought him out. How he tried to needle information from him. How it all felt like a trap.

“He’s just some hopeless kid who wants to be a hero! Sure, he expressed it by becoming a vigilante, but I don’t think all this fanfare is necessary. Just catch him and give him a slap on the wrist. He obviously has the chops to become a hero.” a different hero replied, shooting a challenging glare towards Makoto. More heroes, presumably the ones who were saved by him, started shouting in protest. The once somber attitude of the room tore open and was replaced by a chaotic protest.

Makoto looked calm like she expected this to happen. She just looked at them all blankly and put a finger to her lips. Silence . The heroes’ mouths were still moving, but after a second, they all looked around the room, confused at one another.

“Perhaps I should reintroduce myself. I am Jin Makoto from the Hero Commission. My quirk is Volume. And I will have your attention.” She glared at the hero who started it all. Everyone returned to their seats and looked down like kids who just got reprimanded. Makoto made a small satisfied smirk, “Good. Now if you all use your heads and remember what I had said before about asking the right questions. Maybe I should rephrase one; why is He special? Why does he have multiple quirks? And now that you know more about the context, why did he defeat the Hero Killer.”

It clicked.

“I’m sure you all are also aware of the ‘Nomu’, as they’ve been called,” the heroes looked at each other in confusion at the term, “These multi-quirked individuals some of you fought. You don’t know this, or at least you shouldn’t since you were not permitted to access the internet, but they are confirmed to be from the League of Villains.” She turned toward Taishiro, “Fat Gum, tell them about your interaction with Phantom.”

Taishiro stood up and with a sure voice explained what had happened with Phantom.

“At first, I thought he was an innocent kid playing hero. I was playing along but was taking him in the direction of the authorities when he started asking me questions about other heroes. During the conversation his demeanor changed, and I saw him for what he was. His aura was suffocating, and it felt like death. I asked him to display his quirk, to gauge how dangerous he was. He showed me that he can go intangible, but now I understand that wasn’t his only quirk. Although I was the one leading, everything about it felt like walking into a trap. I was about to forcefully take him in when the explosions started happening. Then he was gone.” Taishiro sat back down.

It was with his statement that made it finally click for the other heroes. They all looked pale.

It felt like a trap.

A hero brave or stupid enough to break the silence whimpered out, “Do we at least have any leads?” Everyone anxiously looked towards Makoto.

“None at this moment” defeat filled the room, “There is no record of anyone with his characteristics with any of the quirks he displayed that we could find, except for one quirk and phenotype,” she looked pointedly at Endeavor, “But that has been ruled out. We also want to warn you, Phantom's face is unknown, and therefore he could be blending in. His appearance isn’t too outlandish to stick out, especially in the denser mutant-type quirk locations”

“How do you not know what he looks like? He wasn’t wearing a mask and I clearly remember seeing his face?” Manual asked.

“Well, what did he look like?” Makoto looked at him expectantly, her head slightly tilted in a condescending manner.

“Well…” Manual started but trailed off, “I can’t remember…”

“As I thought. We had sketch artists draw up approximations of what he looks like, however while there was a common face and head shape, his features were vague at best. Every time someone described him, they expressed confusion. They all stated they couldn’t remember what he looked like, as Manual just demonstrated.” Manual had the courage to look embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck. “We held this meeting to say to be on guard if you spot him. Do not engage and follow at a close distance. You must call in support with the code: It is cold outside; and heroes in the surrounding areas as well as a special ops team will aid in his capture. We must all treat this with the utmost diligence. A general announcement will be issued to other heroes who were not in the meeting today, but everything that was discussed in this room, stays in this room under penalty of license removal or a long trip to Tartarus” Her eyes were steady, poisonous.

Loud footsteps were heard outside and then the door slammed open. In the door frame, was a tiny stick man who looked even smaller when compared to the size of the door. He looked on the brink of death and wore a suit that was 3 sizes too big on him.

“Ah, Mr. Yagi. You’re early.” Her lip twitched. She turned towards the rest of the heroes, “And with that, the meeting is adjourned. Most of you do not have the clearance for the next meeting.” All the heroes nervously started to leave, the cop and principal Nezu reminded seated, along with two heroes, one being Endeavor and the other a short old man Taishiro didn’t recognize, “That includes you, Endeavor.” She looked smug. Endeavor looked shocked (as much as a man with default RBF could), but left without a word, pushing past some of the other heroes in his way.

Taishiro followed after, but stole one more glance towards the meeting room, trying to puzzle out what their next topic was. Nothing came to mind. Taishiro was too exhausted from the day and all that happened. He turned around and walked out.

He needed to get some sleep.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp #dp cross #dp crossover #dp fic #dp x bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #fat gum

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marley-manson · 1 year

Text

more thoughts on joker is wild:

1. it feels so much like a response to criticisms that seasons 1-3 were funnier or better or whatever lol. i don’t know if it actually is, but bj bitching about trapper and everyone reminiscing and hawkeye saying how much better trapper’s pranks were etc feels extremely meta. there are even good little detail references to this, like hawkeye’s “do you know it’s been a looooong time since i’ve had a cigar?” And it’s like the whole point is to prove the show can still be fun lol.

2. But I think it failed if that was the goal.

3. I don’t think this is deliberate, but Hawkeye’s unhinged-ness in this episode has a similar energy to the mania in GFA, which is just wildly uncomfortable on rewatch. I think they were aiming for cartoonish exaggeration, but it doesn’t work for me, partially bc of the aforementioned comparison, and partially because everyone reacts to Hawkeye more realistically, which grounds it in a sense of reality and just makes it seem like Hawkeye’s on the actual verge of a breakdown.

I mean let’s be real here, he goes from 0-100 on the offputting paranoia scale basically instantly lol, it’s not at all in character for Hawkeye, it is a ridiculous silly exaggeration. But no one else is exaggerated, they’re all just being normal doing their mediocre acting as they get “pranked” or lording it over Hawkeye or being innocent confused bystanders getting yelled at, so there’s that sense of reality that ruins it as a heightened comic romp and makes it just feel weird and unpleasant. The ever recurring jokes about Hawkeye going crazy don’t help either ofc.

4. And speaking of those reactions, what is with BJ’s ‘trick Hawkeye into alienating people’ plots? Like BJ being a prankster isn’t something I have a problem with, my problem is his pranks are so mean lol. This is the kind of shit we might laugh about if Frank was the victim, because the whole point of Frank’s character is that he deserves what he gets for being an evil little facist. Like, tricking Hawkeye into getting paranoid enough to hurt random people’s feelings is not something that feels like it’s all in good fun.

And look, Hawkeye starts out irritated and annoyed bc, let’s be real, BJ pretended to sympathize with his bad day as a set up for the shoe prank. Hawkeye calls the prank boring but doesn’t make it personal despite his irritation. He doesn’t even intend to mention Trapper, he just tells the truth when BJ asks who came up with the better prank he describes. Hawkeye is entirely innocent here.

It feels like payback for past pranks on a narrative level, given eg Margaret’s exasperation with the reminiscing early on and the aforementioned meta vibe, but this lands on my pet peeve of the show taking itself out of context to commentate on the early seasons, because again, those early pranks were “fun” because the victims were framed as deserving. You can disagree with that framing, or with the severity of some of the pranks (I sure do, lbr here) but ignoring that framing and drawing a false equivalency with Hawkeye as a victim misses the point. Hawkeye and Trapper didn’t harass their friends at random, they harassed Frank and Margaret for being authoritarian suck ups, and often with an end goal of, say, getting them to drop an attempted court martial, or saving Hawkeye from getting sectioned, or whatever.

Ultimately one of my issues with the later seasons overall is that I feel like they sometimes overcompensate for Hawkeye’s immunity from consequences in the first few satirical seasons while assuming that I as a viewer want to see Hawkeye taken down a few pegs. I feel like I’m supposed to get a sense of schadenfreude from episodes like this one, or Bottoms Up, or Dear Uncle Abdul, or for non-BJ examples, Inga, Tea and Empathy, Fallen Idol, hell maybe even The Price. And I absolutely do not lol, and this is a prime example of that disconnect for me as a viewer.

5. The way it ends with Hawkeye still miserable and annoyed is such a misstep imo. Like he never has fun with it, he doesn’t go ‘wow BJ that was awesome actually, good job” he doesn’t play up the strip tease (sadly), he just seems resigned and super fucking over the whole ordeal. If it ended with Hawkeye laughing and being impressed and having fun singing the song it would’ve softened the whole thing so much, but instead it remains in that schadenfreude zone where we’re supposed to like, enjoy Hawkeye wearily getting his comeuppance for... whatever. The revenge tag kinda helps but it doesn’t make Hawkeye seem less annoyed about it lol and it's too little too late anyway.

This is true of all of BJ’s Hawkeye torture episodes, but it’s especially overt here, and it adds to BJ’s pranks feeling cruel rather than fun to me.

6. I don’t think BJ was ooc in it myself, though I can see why others might because his jealousy is pretty silly, but yk, it follows an established thread - in a weird way, sure, but in a way I can buy. We’ve established he’s insecure about being Trapper’s replacement, we’ve established he’s a prankster to cope, we’ve established he enjoys making Hawkeye humiliate himself, this scheme fits. The only issue is that Hawkeye was ooc so he shouldn’t have been able to predict that he’d get super weird and paranoid to the point where he could call it the actual prank lol, but w/e, details, details.

7. Ultimately it’s not that serious, it’s an attempt at a fun comedy episode that fell flat tonally because I’m not the target audience of people who think Hawkeye deserves to be tormented, and it’s also weirdly placed in season 11. But yk, I still like complaining.

8. That said I’m more than happy to incorporate it into my BJ/Hawkeye takes because if there’s one saving grace of this episode it’s that it’s fucked up and weird in the context of a crush and I’m into that.

#marley on mash #mash s11 #mash

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wolfprincesszola · 5 months

Text

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 3

SHIT I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST-. Uh anyways, Logicality is my favorite ship and actually i love them in this. I hope you guys enjoy and if you do, please reblog this because it helps a lot more than a like would! <3 ——————– Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: None

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 03

Patton Morris wasn’t the easiest person to deal with. He, himself, knew that by heart. His parents weren’t always around, so he had a sense of independence that caused him to never want to let anybody else take control of his life. He pretended to be the dad to everyone where his own father failed. He hid his sadness behind the jokes and puns he made in class. Even if it disrupted the class, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, if he got in trouble, he could stay in the company of someone for a little longer and not have to go back to the empty, lonely building he called his home. Even if that someone was the supervisor for detention, Patton took what he could get. He used humor to deflect any negative emotions, hoping that maybe if he was cheerful all the time, someone would always like him. He had insecurities about not being able to have any powers, and knew that if he stopped being funny for one second, the bullies with super strength would find him and kill him.

However, sometimes the act was just too much for him. It felt like an off-day on the Monday he went back to school after his parents came home. Although he hated how his parents were never home, almost on the verge of abandoning him, he hated seeing them more. At least when they were gone, Patton could pretend like they were good parents.

It seemed clear to everyone that today was an off-day for Patton because as soon as he walked in, there was no cheerfulness. Even with the forced smiles that Patton gave to everyone, his classmates could tell that Patton wasn't as cheery as he normally was. At least it seemed clear to everyone but the valedictorian, Logan.

The two were always at odds with Logan always being the rule enforcer, and him always being the rule breaker. Being the class clown meant pranks in every hallway every week (that were only done to make someone smile), and being the valedictorian meant Logan had to help clean up everything and enforce the rules by sending him to detention.

Usually, Logan was good at reading his moods, even without him realizing it. When Patton wasn’t smiling as often as he normally did, Logan was a bit more lenient in letting him go a few minutes early from detention or only giving him a warning instead of a straight hour of detention. However, it was clear that Logan didn’t understand Patton’s signs of distress the entire day. If Patton even made one move out of place, Logan hit him with another hour of detention.

By fifth period, Patton had gotten 6 hours just from stepping into the classroom a second after the bell stopped ringing and tripping on a desk which caused a huge scene. It was known that Patton was clumsy or sometimes exactly on time--if not a few seconds late. Logan had gotten accustomed to the idea and normally gave him a warning or brushing it off as a class clown activity. Today though was different. Instead of him just giving a warning or brushing it off, Logan just scribbled another hour of detention down on a pass and gave it to Patton.

Now, Patton was sitting at the lunch tables alone, staring at the detention hours he had been given. It disheartened him to see the stack that he had gained just from being in a bad mood, although he could argue that Logan was also in a bad mood for assigning Patton with this many hours. At this point, Patton just wanted to go home, lock himself in his room, and sleep. Unfortunately, Logan decided to be difficult by refusing Patton from making up the detention hours during lunch (for some reason). Instead, Patton was forced to stay at school for another few hours, which made Patton's bad mood even worse.

To make things worse, it was only lunch time and Patton had forgotten to pack a lunch. He was starving, tired, and moody. Leaning down, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the surroundings and his growling stomach. Maybe, he could get a few minutes of nap time before his last class and the few hours of detention he had to serve. However, it was clear someone else didn’t get the vibe as he heard someone sit down at the table with him, right across. He groaned internally, looking up to see Logan staring at him.

Great. Just the last person he wanted to see. This just wasn't helping his mood.

“Logan!” Patton forced a smile, "Are you here to give me another hour of detention or sleeping or-"

Logan pulled two boxes out of his backpack, one light blue and the other dark blue. He held the light blue box out for Patton, "This is for you."

Patton raised an eyebrow as he took the box, glancing at it suspiciously.

“I didn’t poison it.” Logan remarked as he pulled out his own lunch to eat. “You won’t die eating it. I made sure to grab the one without the shellfish.”

Patton opened it carefully, one flap after the other, until it was fully open, and he looked inside. There was food; to be more specific, it was a bento box with rice, and spam. Patton looked over to Logan's lunch to see that he had almost the same thing, just with everything from the food pyramid. The different types of foods were sectioned off with 30% rice, 25% cooked broccoli, 20% strawberries, 15% spam, and 10% chocolate chip cookies. Classic Logan.

“I wasn't sure what you liked, but this was all they had at the convenience store that looked remotely edible. I tried to see if there were any with vegetables and fruits to make sure you had a healthy meal, but I suppose it can't be helped with convenience store meals." Logan remarked, adjusting his glasses.

“Wh-what?”

“You’re the class clown, and almost like my class rival because I’m always going head and head against you. I don’t talk to anyone that isn’t you on a regular basis. To me, in some dark and twisted way, you’re like my best friend because I hang out with you because I have to. I clean up after your messes, and have to supervise you as if you’re some child when I know you're fully capable of taking care of yourself. Of course I’m going to notice when something’s wrong.” Logan remarked as he began to eat his food.

“Then why'd you give me so many detentions today?” Patton was still suspicious, but was too hungry to argue about refusing the food Logan had graciously set out in front of him.

"Your shoulders are sagging, your eyes are having difficulty staying open even now, you have yawned 173 times in the past two hours, your walking has slowed significantly, and you don't tilt your head when you smile--an indication that shows that your smiles are genuine. Your stomach has been growling, your skin is pale compared to before, and I don't even want to imagine the last time you drank water was. You clearly are not getting the essentials at home and need time to recover while at school. If I were to hand you detention hours, I would be able to look over your well-being by making sure you are well-rested, not going hungry, and getting the proper amounts of water intake."

Patton blinked at the boy in front of him. He hadn’t realized Logan even paid attention to him to that extent. "Wow, Logan, that's...really kind of you."

Logan scoffed, looking away in embarrassment, "You need to take care of yourself if you ever want to get anywhere in life. Don't try to pay me back, Morris, or I'll make you scrape the gum off of desks instead of resting.”

"Got it."

“How long do you need me to give you these hours?”

“Just today.” Patton didn't want to take up more of Logan's time than he already had taken up.

Logan seemed to know better as he finished his lunch, packing it up with a simple statement, "A week it is."

"Logan-" Patton began before Logan shook his head.

"It's been decided, Patton. I'll see you at detention. You must be at the classroom by the time stated on the slip.”

“I wouldn’t dare miss it.” Patton remarked, letting a smile break on his face. A smile he didn’t have to force.

-+=~=+-

Patton walked into the detention classroom to find Logan in the corner reading a book.

“You’re late.” Logan commented without looking up to check the time or to look at him, instead turning the page of his book and continuing with the reading.

“Oh come on, Logan. Cut me some slack please? The bell rang, and I have to get all the way across campus in a minute. It wasn't bound to happen.”

“I know. Report to me tomorrow to finish your hours, because I’m not staying past 5.” Logan sighed in defeat before pointing to the slip on the empty desk next to him. “I have a club to run at that time.”

“I have a question, Logan…why do you supervise detention? Shouldn’t it be the teachers’ job?”

Logan blinked, almost as if he assumed Patton knew, before it clicked in his head that he never told him, “I guess I assumed that everyone knew, but it didn’t occur to me that not everyone was in this city when my brother was in high school.”

“You have a brother?” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Logan’s eyes flickered to a saddened expression, but it was too quick for Patton to comment on it, because he blinked and his expression was back to robotic apathy as it normally was. “My mother’s the principal. She’ll ask me to help out from time to time, and since she doesn’t want to pay me, she just justifies it as duties of the valedictorian.”

“How did I not know all this?” Patton asked incredulously. “I feel like I’ve known you for so long.”

“Because I don’t talk to people about myself.” Logan remarked as he finished the chapter, bookmarking it and closing it. “You, on the other hand, Patton Morris, talk too much. 17 years old, blue eyes. Not the blue that comes from the deep ocean, or the blue that comes from an unpolluted sky, but the blue that comes from my denim jeans mixed with the blue that comes from the teal paint in the math wing. Brown hair that he refuses to let curl even though it damages his hair to straighten it every day. No siblings. Favorite color: light grey like the cardigan you always have, favorite animal: cats, favorite flower: alliums, favorite-“

“Alright, I get it. I’m a bad person for not knowing anything about you, when you know everything about me.” Patton chuckled, guilt crawling up his spine. He should've done more to learn about Logan, but he never persisted anytime Logan changed the subject.

“No, the difference is that you have friends. You talk really loudly, and your friends do too. I overhear things and I just can remember them. Perks of having a strong memory.” Logan adjusted his glasses once more. Patton found it oddly curious how Logan wore his glasses pressed up to his face while Patton was the complete opposite, wearing his glasses at the bottom of his nose that always threatened to fall off.

“Hm, I wish I had that.” Patton laughed, “Super memory would be really nice.”

“Sometimes.” Logan gave a small smile, clearly forced. Patton decided not to press onto it.

“So tell me more about you, Mr. Sanders.”

“Like what?” Logan asked, pulling out a pen to answer his analysis questions.

“Let’s start with simple stuff. Your favorites.”

“I suppose it’s only fair because I know yours. Food: the homemade spaghetti my brother used to make for me. Color: black. Flower: marigolds because of the hidden meaning. Animal: jellyfish for their simplicity and tranquility.”

“Your brother's spaghetti must be mouthwateringly good for you to say it's your favorite. I wasn't even sure that someone as stoic as you had many favorites."

"I appreciate a lot of things." Logan shrugged, "He stopped cooking it for me."

Patton could see the nostalgia and melancholy that glazed over Logan's eyes. He could relate, knowing how it felt to have unexplainable sadness that ached in the heart. Patton wondered what caused Logan to feel like that to the point where he had been so stoic to everyone, especially Patton.

“What? Why?”

“We got in a fight.” Logan murmured. “He moved away so we haven’t been able to reconcile.”

“For college?”

“…kinda.” Logan’s eyes darkened. He wasn't ready to talk about it, so Patton let it go, just like most of the questions he asked Logan with no answer. Maybe Logan's past was something that Logan himself wasn't too happy with.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

Logan stiffened before he turned towards the boy, avoiding the question, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

Patton didn't want to feel like a burden, so he ended the conversation with a simple statement, "It's alright if you don't want to tell me, Logan, but it doesn't mean you should avoid it. If you do that, you'll forget everything that happened."

Logan put his pen down as he finished writing the last question. Standing up, his stuff still in the room, he walked towards the door.

Right, Logan had a club meeting to attend while Patton was resting.

Right before he left the room, his back still facing the doorway, he let Patton know, “Sometimes, it’s easier to forget my past and about myself than it is to accept what happened.”

With no other context, Patton was left with thousands of questions.

-+=~=+-

It was 6 in the evening when Logan came back into the room, holding two bento boxes.

Patton had taken the time alone to take a nap, but it was clear he was still jumpy because he heard the door creak open and immediately jumped up. He inhaled as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, looking to see who it was.

“Your hair’s a mess.” Logan remarked.

Patton stretched, laughing, “Thanks.”

“Your voice is a lot deeper when you first wake up.” He spoke plainly as he plopped a bento box down on his desk, “My club meeting ran late. Apologies.”

“No, it’s okay.” Patton murmured, “You really didn’t have to get me food.”

“You’re going to be spending another hour here. I’m not letting you starve.” Logan replied, almost as if it was assumed that he would get dinner for the person who arguably annoyed his the most.

Patton laughed, thanking his before opening it up to see noodles. “Where do you get these?”

“I know a place.”

"No specifics?"

Logan didn’t bother to answer, the two of them eating in silence.

After some time though, Logan broke the silence, “Do you have powers?”

“Hm?” Patton asked, looking up before shaking his head, “I wish I did, but I’m pretty sure the magic is not working in my favor.”

“Sometimes, you don’t know you have it for a long time, and then when you figure out that other people can’t do the same thing, it becomes stronger.”

“Well…then maybe I’ll hold out a bit of hope.” Patton crossed his fingers as he finished the noodles, putting his fork away and throwing anything unnecessary in the trash.

Logan just smiled, doing the same with his finished dinner.

“You left your stuff here before you went to your club meeting.” Patton spoke up.

“Well, I was coming back, and I trusted you enough to watch over it, even if you were asleep.” Logan shrugged, “Besides, my homework was finished.”

“What club meeting was it?”

“Model UN.”

“I see. What country are you?”

“South Korea.” Logan murmured.

“What prompted that?”

“I found their country and their technological advances so fascinating. I've always been connected with technology in many ways and I love learning more about new things. This was a way I could connect with it.” Logan replied.

“You seem very open once people talk to you. Why don’t you let more people know about who you are? I think you’re interesting.”

“No one really cared to ask, so I didn’t ever tell anyone. Besides, when people start to know me, they ask me questions I’m not ready to answer yet.”

“Hm, I wish I could be more open like that. It takes me a lot longer to open up.” Patton snorted.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think there’s a little more sincerity is being closed off than it is to be open, but not vulnerable.” Logan murmured, putting away his stuff.

“Are you going already?” Patton asked.

“Yeah. It’s already seven, and you deserve to get some sleep in a comfortable setting like your bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, Morris. Good night.” Logan replied.

Patton felt fear crawl up his spine as he realized that he enjoyed talking to Logan and would've rather he stayed there than walk back home. Still, he waved goodbye and gave a smile to the leaving boy.

"Good night, Logan!"

He couldn't extend the inevitable any longer. It was a few seconds after he left that Patton also packed up. There was a paper on his desk that he hadn't notice Logan placed until now. Picking it up, Patton read what was on the paper.

In Logan's crazy neat handwriting, there was a number--a phone number to be specific--and his name, with the words “Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency. I hope I don’t have to explain to you what an emergency is.”

Patton laughed as he pocketed the number, not paying attention to how big his smile became whenever Logan did something worth smiling about. ————– THEY'RE SO CUTE PLS I LOVE THEM GLASSES GAYS. I'm lowkey scared that Patton doesn't act like Patton in this, but I'm sure it's fine (for now). It might get a little hard later on, but it should still be fun to see how this plays out

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and are very appreciated. Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

#glasses gays are my fav pls #valedictorian x class clown is also a really good trope #logan caring too much and patton caring too little for himself is so <3 #chapter 3 #the fate of the marked six #logan sanders #ts logan #ts patton #patton sanders #logan x patton #logicality #high school au #magic au

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carltonlassie · 3 years

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what if, shawn drunkenly calling lassie at 3am just to ramble,, and accidentally confesses,,,, hnnnnngh

Oooh god!!

Shawn prank called lassie so many times during the day (“prank call” but really he just wanted to hear his voice 😳), that Lassiter started ignoring them by the evening. Telling him that keeping a police officer’s phone line was obstruction of justice didn’t help (why would it, Shawn would make fun of him more just for that)

Shawn kept on calling and calling, and 3am was Lassiter’s limit. Lassie finally answered it to yell at him!! Went into a shouting monologue, but the line stayed silent, so he was like “Spencer?”

And Shawn’s like Lassie, this is not a prank. I love u, pls come over, I’m drunk and I’m stupid. You have such great voice. Did u know that I love hearing it? Please manhandle me like u do at the station. Do u want head? Maybe we should make out when we see each other next time. Oooh and your eyes are so blue and I want to get lost in it. I’m kissing you on the mouth mwah <3 Thanks bye!

And lassies just like

#shassie #asks #maybe it makes more sense if he didn’t prank call for an entire day #and lassies getting suspicious and reaches a point where he’s worried bc he hasn’t gotten a call from Shawn in a while #and 3am call happens and he’s like hello is me hi Shawn 👉👈 (but stoically)#and Shawn confesses during his rambles #and the rest is: is for me etc.

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Under the Radar

Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader

Warnings: None.

Request: hiii can I request a husband Severus Snape x wife reader. The reader is a professor in Hogwarts they don't want the students to know so they kept it a secret. And the Weasley twins are the first to know. (the Weasley twins are close to reader since she's kind thanks.) and you can continue it your own way. (灬º‿º灬)♡

Word Count: 2,014

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,”

“You have class in fifteen minutes, Severus.” You nagged at your husband who was still sprawled out in bed.

A groggy chuckle escaped from the man as he finally sat up on his elbows to look at you, watching as you hurried to get dressed before you were horribly late.

“So do you, love.” He countered.

“Yes, but I’m almost ready,” You argued with a slight roll of your eyes; “And you are not.”

“It doesn’t take me long. You know this.” He bantered.

It was true after all. Severus didn’t put that much effort into getting ready everyday. Pants, robes, shoes, and MAYBE brush his hair. That was the morning routine of Severus Snape. You were a bit more refined, taking time to pick out an outfit and making yourself look presentable to your personal standards.

“I know, but do you really want your Potions classroom unattended with a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors?” You grinned, knowing that they’d wreak havoc sooner or later.

Severus groaned at the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time where he walked in at the last minute to stop Ron Weasley from throwing a cauldron at Draco Malfoy’s head. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, padding to his closet where you stood as well.

“One of these days, I’ll get a morning of peace and have you for myself.” He grumbled.

You gave a mocking, sympathetic pout at your mumbling husband. You took his face into your hands, drumming your fingers playfully along his cheeks.

“Poor baby. Because you NEVER get any time with me.” You said with a tone thick with sarcasm.

Severus huffed, but his arms snaked around your waist.

“Is it so wrong to want a quiet morning with my wife?” He questioned.

Severus had a point. It had been quite some time since the two of you had the opportunity to sleep in, to drown out the world until the two of you felt ready to brave it together. He missed waking you up by peppering you with lazy kisses and soft, sweet mumbles in your ear. Life had just gotten so busy that things weren’t exactly what he would consider standard for the two of you.

It also didn’t help that outside of your private bedroom, you weren’t exactly a public couple. Aside from the faculty and staff of Hogwarts, none of the students had any knowledge of yours and Severus’ marriage. It had been a mutual decision, considering that neither of you were sure you wanted all the kids knowing that two professors were married to one another. While your last name had legally been changed to Snape, you were always referred to by your maiden name. As far as the students knew, you and Severus hadn’t even ever had a conversation, let alone tied the knot almost three years ago.

“I know, Sev. I’ll tell you what. I’ll clear my schedule for tomorrow since it’s Saturday. We can sleep in...” You said, lowering your voice to a whisper in his ear; “And I’ll be all yours all day.”

The way that his eyes lit up made your heart leap. He kissed you excitedly, your laugh muffled under the kiss. Despite the fact that you had a ten minute head start, Severus still managed to be ready before you, stealing another quick kiss before he was out the door en route to the dungeons.

Your classes went smoothly as usual. The students were peppy with energy since it was Friday, but their focuses were very in tune with your lessons for the day. You had returned to your office after classes to do some fast grading before giving in to the weekend. Most of the students had returned to their dorms to have some down time before getting into their weekend shenanigans. However, it seemed that your biggest fans were even more boisterous than usual.

Your office door swung open rather abruptly, causing you to flinch and grab at your chest in alarm.

“Hi, Professor!” Fred Weasley screeched.

“Hey, Professor [Y/N]!” George echoed.

The red-headed twins were (without a doubt) very fond of you. Your personality just seemed to mix well with theirs, and you were always willing to take time out of your day to chat with them. You were usually one of the first to know about their daring pranks, always having to fake your surprise when they actually did them.

“Hi, boys.” You greeted with a smile.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for students to come by your office during the day. Usually it was because they had a concern about their performance in your class or confusion on an assignment. With the Weasley twins, though, they always came by just because they felt like it.

“Grading on a Friday?” Fred acquired, plopping down into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

George tutted, eyeing over the stack of tests on your desk.

“It’s a shame. You should be out getting knackered at The Three Broomsticks with McGonagall.” George said, scanning nosily over the objects on your bookshelf.

You snorted, resuming your grading.

“I’ll leave the heavy imbibing to the two of you. The day that I see Minerva McGonagall getting hammered at a bar will be the day that I become a Legilimens.” You replied.

George and Fred snickered, continuing to talk your ears off while they snooped around. You never minded their company, as long as they didn’t stop your grading progress. You didn’t notice when the two of them went quiet. You also didn’t notice when George silently called for his brother to join him across the room.

Fred got up from his seat to see what George had found, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he saw what it was. You had a habit of leaving your stuff laying around random areas of your office, so sometimes little hints of your relationship with Severus were out in the open for anyone to see. However, George and Fred were the only people on the planet who would actually find anything.

On one of your bookshelves rested an empty, opened envelope. It was a letter from a pen pal friend of yours that you had lost physical contact with after you graduated from Hogwarts. However, the kicker was that the addressed name on the front wasn’t what the twins would have expected to see.

It was addressed to you, using your married name.

George and Fred looked at each other with quizzical expressions. Why in the world would you have something addressed to you with Snape’s last name? George and Fred had this weird, telepathic twin communication thing that always freaked you out. They could sort out a problem or have a conversation without ever saying anything.

Their puzzled looks faded into realization when they sorted it out. They almost couldn’t believe it. Severus Snape married to one of the friendliest, nicest professors? It was shocking...but it did make sense.

You always wore a wedding ring on your left hand, but no one seemed to know who the lucky guy was. You were very private about your personal life.

Fred pocketed the envelope, and George announced their exit.

“Lovely to see you as always.” He said, holding down his giggle.

“Yeah, we’ll see you Monday, Professor.” Fred added on, ushering his brother out before either of them could blow it.

You gave them a friendly wave as they left, still clueless to the fact that they had found out your secret.

Monday morning rolled around (after Severus’ promised Saturday morning in) once again, and another week had begun. It didn’t take long for you to notice that something was odd.

Students all day had been acting strangely. Their quiet whispers and sneaky giggles when they passed by you in the corridors were definitely suspicious. You couldn’t get them to pay attention in class for the life of you, all of them clearly preoccupied.

“Draco Malfoy,” You snapped, hands on your hips; “Just what are you laughing about now?”

Draco’s laughter stopped, but his amused smile never left his face. This was the third time today that you had gotten on to him for disrupting class, him and Crabbe chuckling on and off about something.

“Nothing, nothing.” Draco replied, still chortling under his breath.

You sighed out heavily. All of the kids were testing your nerves today.

“If I hear any more interruptions from you, I’ll have to give you detention,” You scolded, but in a calm tone; “Do you understand?”

Draco nodded, waiting until your back turned to the board again before he responded.

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

Your writing stopped, the entire classroom bursting into hushed laughter. You turned to face the young Malfoy, his cheeks flushed as he and Crabbe failed to contain their laughter any longer. It was obvious now that the whispers and weird glances were due to the fact that they knew. Somehow, they had found out.

“Professor [L/N].” You corrected.

“Hmm, but technically you’re Professor Snape.” He hummed.

You bit your cheek in thought. If they knew, there wasn’t any sense in denying it. But you were curious as to how this started.

“Draco, how did you all find out?” You questioned.

He shrugged with a smirk.

“I heard it from Pansy.” He admitted.

You looked to Pansy.

“Blaise told me.” She confessed.

You followed the trail of names and who-told-who until it stemmed back to the original perpetrators. Two suspects that you should have figured long ago.

“The twins. Of course.” You sighed.

The students had questions (and a lot of them), curious to know how long and how it had happened. Most of them were just stunned that Severus Snape actually had a life outside of his classroom. A life with someone like YOU nonetheless.

You were fidgety to talk to Severus about it. You were curious to see how he’d react and how this would change the way the two of you interacted during the school year. After all, it was kind of your fault for leaving your stuff around.

“Were the students acting peculiar to you today?” Severus asked, breaking you from your thoughtful daze.

Your gaze snapped up from your dinner plate as you peered at him with a fluttery belly.

“Peculiar how?” You asked.

“They all seemed mischievous. As if they knew something they weren’t supposed to.” Severus claimed, looking at you as if he already knew the reason why.

“Well, now that you mention it...they sort of know about us...that we’re married.” You confessed.

Truthfully, Severus didn’t care that much if the student body knew. It was inevitable that they’d all find out eventually, but he was interested to hear how exactly the cat was let out of the bag.

“They ‘sort of’ know?” He questioned, clearly amused; “How’s that?”

You sucked in a breath.

“The Weasley twins might’ve figured it out. They’re smart, Sev. Much smarter than you give them credit for,” You babbled; “It’s not their fault. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop, stop,” He cut you off with a soft smile; “You don’t think I’m mad about this, do you?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his gentle tone, but your eyes remained wide.

“It’s just that we...always wanted to keep it a secret.” You reminded him.

His head nodded and he set his fork down to give you his full attention.

“That is true, but we both knew that couldn’t last forever,” Severus pointed out; “I could never keep you hidden away forever.”

Your cheeks burned at his compliment, your smile beaming at him. He nudged your foot under the table. It was a wondrous thought to think about how different (or not) things would be now that they knew.

“I’m afraid I’ll still have to keep my maiden name. To avoid confusion.” You stated.

“Of course. Just as long as you’re still my Mrs. Snape.” He grinned with a wink.

You returned with a laugh, prompting the end of the lighthearted conversation.

“That I can definitely promise.”

#severus snape #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x female reader #severus snape fluff #severus snape imagine #severus snape oneshot #severus snape x professor #seriouslysnape

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honey-im-hotdog · 2 years

Text

Since Forever

Nikki Sixx x reader

Author’s Note: This is kind of a Frankenstein’s monster-esque fic in the sense that I inserted a new idea into an existing fic and created something else entirely 😁 happy Halloween, I hope y’all enjoy!!

As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.

Word Count: 1.7k was not expecting this

Warnings: some bad angst (I wasn’t really feeling it), uh swearing like usual lads, my attempt at fluff, something else but I can’t remember, idk babes it’s bad haha

Summary: birthday surprises and confessions! This can be read as a part two to Nosebleed.

———————————

“Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I think I fucked up…” you turn half of your body to face him sheepishly.

Nikki looks over to you, then down at the dough you’ve been working on. Raising one eyebrow he asks, “you think?” which pulls a groan out of you.

“I didn’t mean to add this much water! It just spilled,” you pout at him.

As much as he wants to tease you, he isn’t really one to speak, he did just burn the sauce after all.

“Maybe we should call it a day and order some nice, greasy take out instead?” You usually don't like giving up so easily, but your hunger is outweighing your guilt at the moment.

You couldn’t figure out for the life of you why Nikki and you thought trying to make a homemade dinner was a good idea, especially one that’s new to you both. Initially, since he’s visiting you during his tour, you wanted to do something fun and cute so you could spend some quality time together.

Speaking of which, you still haven’t gotten over the stupid prank he pulled…

You’ve been running around like a headless chicken all day, cleaning your house, restocking your fridge and pantry, and generally redoing things to blow off some steam. You’re too excited, the joy zooming through your veins too fast, you couldn’t even go to the bathroom earlier in peace, body too jittery to hold still.

The cause of this? Your best friend. Well, your best friend who you’re completely and utterly in love with. God, can you get anymore cliché? Your friends—Tommy included, of course—love teasing you about your not-so-subtle crush, even going as far as trying to convince you that he loves you back. But you never listen; so afraid of rejection, you’ve convinced yourself that he can’t possibly love you back the way you do him. That doesn’t stop your traitor mind from wandering and dreaming. This has awarded you a smack upside the head multiple times, because, to put it in your friend’s words: “The boy wouldn’t be leaving in the middle of his tour just to spend your birthday with you if he didn’t have feelings for you, you idiot!”

And there’s the reason the butterflies in your stomach haven’t stopped fluttering for the past week. Nikki’s coming over for your birthday!

The shrill of the phone breaks you out of your daydreaming and has you jumping a foot into the air. “Hello?” your voice is a bit hoarse from the jump scare you just received, and lunging at the device.

“Am I interrupting something?” the voice on the other end comes through in a teasing manner, but if you weren’t so excited, you would have noticed that it sounded a little strained.

“Nikki, hi,” your voice is somehow even more breathy now. “Oh! Um, no, you aren’t interrupting anything. Well not really, I was just cleaning,” you aren't able to completely suppress the excited giggle that comes out. “Um, you know, just making sure you have a good area to sleep in.”

Nikki sighs, “about that…Look, sweetheart,” your stomach drops at his tone. “Something came up, I won’t be able to make it. Please don’t be mad, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Your breath catches in your throat and a dark sadness washes over you like tar. You don’t know what to say, so all you’re able to come up with is a pathetic little, “oh.”

And that dejected “oh” nearly breaks Nikki’s heart. “I’m sorry, baby,” his voice drops to a low whisper, mad at himself for making you so sad.

“No, no, it’s okay. Don't worry, i-it’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” You can barely control your voice from cracking, tears threatening to spill. “Just call me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will—”

“Um, I gotta go. Have fun, and don’t worry. Bye” You only hear the beginning of your name spill from his lips before you’re hanging up the phone. You can’t stand to keep talking to him, knowing you’ll break down soon.

After ending the call, you just stand there, not sure what to do now. Your stomach has dropped to your toes and you feel like crumbling.

Though before you could fall into a pit of despair, there comes a rapid knocking on your front door. You’re tempted to ignore it and crawl into bed to be miserable in the comfort of your pillows and blankets, but the fucker is pretty insistant. So with the little energy you have left, you force yourself to go answer the door.

You don’t even have enough time to look up at the person before they’re yelling, “surprise!” Stunned by the sheer volume of the man, you take a step back.

There stands Nikki, in a loose t-shirt and shorts, both black of course. He’s got a bag on the ground and both arms thrown in the air.

“I-I thought you weren’t coming? You just called an-and…?”

“I lied! I thought I’d give you a surprise. I got an earlier flight and I used the payphone down the street to call you. But then you sounded so dejected on the phone and I felt so horrible, I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings! I just—I, uh, I rushed over.” Self-conscious about telling you too much and still a bit mad at himself for making you upset, Nikki looks down and rubs the back of his neck.

He barely catches himself when you throw yourself at him. “Oh, don’t you ever dare do that again. I was so heartbroken!” You squeeze him a little tighter and mumble against his neck, “I’m so glad you’re here, Nikki.” The next instant you’re grabbing his shoulders and pushing yourself back, “how have you been? How has the tour been? How are the guys? Please don’t tell me you and Tommy did anything too stupid.”

“Okay okay, let me in first! A man has to pee after being on a flight all day!”

That was a day ago, and now here you are, in his kitchen (having migrated to his house because his tv is “bigger, and better, and louder”) with a disaster in the making.

“Uh, you know what, that seems like a fantastic idea.” Nikki doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s already pouring what was supposed to be the sauce down the drain. “I think I’ve got some menus in that drawer over there,” he points to the end of the kitchen island with his chin.

You hand him the watery bowl to dump into the sink and grab the menus from the drawer he pointed out. Setting them on the counter in front of you, you ask Nikki what he’s in the mood for. Instead of getting an instant reply, you feel Nikki press up against your left side, one hand on the counter beside you and the other coming up to rub your right arm.

He rests his head on your shoulder to look at the menus. “We can get whatever you want, angel.” Nikki hears your breath hitch and feels you slightly tensing in his arms.

He doesn’t want to beat around the bush anymore: he likes you. God does he like you. Rarely did he meet someone that could brighten his day like you, and he knew that whenever someone like that crosses his path, he needs to hold on to them tight. He knew he liked you from the first moment you met, but it wasn’t until Mick pulled him to the side when he brought you over to meet the rest of Mötley Crüe, that Nikki realized just how much he wants you in his life. Especially for the long run.

Nikki distractedly turns his head towards Mick when he hears the older man say your name, while keeping his eyes on you, “hmm?”

“You’re in love with Y/N, aren’t you?”

Nikki’s eyes widen and he chokes on the whiskey going down his throat, now fully paying attention to Mick. “I don’t-I’m not—”

“Oh come on, Sixx. You keep looking over there like a lovesick puppy. Man up and admit you’re in love.” With that, Mick grabs his vodka and leans back into the couch, closing his eyes.

Since that night, Nikki has been coming to terms with the truth, he is falling in love with you—no scratch that, he is in love with you! And it’s finally time to grow a pair and confess.

“I’m in love with you.”

You both freeze.

While Nikki was thinking back to the conversation with Mick, you were going through a mental gymnastics, and lo and behold: you twirled around—still in his arms—and blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

After staring at each other for several silent seconds, Nikki intelligently replies, “fuck.” Then he’s laughing uncontrollably.

You’re standing there with eyes as wide as saucers and a heart rate out of this world. A couple seconds of watching him laugh like a maniac later, you release the breath you’ve had trapped in your lungs, and with it comes the tears.

The idiot, without noticing your wet eyes, cups your cheeks and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. He says your name in a breath that sounds like the world’s weight has just lifted off of his chest, “I’m in love with you too.” The grin dies down on his face when he sees the first tear drop out of your eye. “Wh-what’s wrong?” his voice comes out panicky.

“I confess to you and your immediate reaction is to laugh at me?! You asshole!” Your brows are furrowed but the smile breaks through. “I take it back, I hate you,” you shove his shoulder fondly, gently pushing his body away from you.

He’s back to cupping your jaw and he’s placing kisses all over your face. “Sorry. I’m so, so sorry, angel. I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I was about to tell you when you blurted it out first. I was just so damn happy, baby. I’m crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about you too, Nikki. Since forever.”

The kiss he sweeps in to share with you has you momentarily forgetting about dinner.

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moriiartist · 2 years

Note

Hi! I'm not sure if you write yandere stuff, but if you do, could you possibly do, like a Yan!Grian x reader where the reader was like "kidnapped" by a different hermit as a joke but like, he does NOT take that as a joke lmao- Thank you and sorry for bothering you! Have a great day!

I DIED (IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT)

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ PAIRING \ C!Grian x GN!Reader

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ SYNOPSIS \ It was your fault, for being so blind to the red flags, for allowing Grian’s unhealthy obsession for you to grow unchecked. And now? Now, you have to face the consequences.

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ WARNINGS \ Obsessive/possessive behavior, blood, implied/referenced murder

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ A/N \ Yes, anon, I indeed write yandere content! And, yandere Grian? Oh ho ho~ I'm feeding the simps today, boys!

Have you ever heard of a game called ‘chicken’?

There’s been a lot of different variations on it throughout the years, but in essence, they’re all pretty similar- two players are sent hurtling towards each other, and the first one to swerve away from imminent pain and destruction is deemed the loser. A ‘chicken’, if you will.

What do you think would happen if neither person had the good sense to turn away? What if they just collided with one another, bones snapping like matchsticks as their limbs tangled together and their bodies crumpled under the kinetic force?

Do you think that they would care about their own demise? Or do you, perhaps, think that they would revel in the pain? In the pride of winning their own sick prize?

You had never thought much about the dilemma of the entire situation if you were gonna be honest. I mean- it is a children’s game, a dumb party trick designed to strike the fear of death into a youth that has never had to face their own mortality.

Ironic, considering that the last few years of your life have been spent running headlong into your own worst nightmare.

Despite his best efforts, it was well-known that Grian was far from subtle when it came to his feelings. He was, quite honestly, a terrible liar, stumbling over his words as his voice jumped an entire octave from nervousness alone. He was chaotic and a magnet for trouble, and persistent as all get-out, but he was your best friend.

Maybe that was why you were blind to the red flags, the dark, possessive gleam in his eyes when he looked at you. The way he would try to get you to cancel out on plans with your other friends to go hang out with him instead, or the way that you were accustomed to waking up to find him making breakfast for you in your base, the perfect picture of domesticity if it weren’t for the fact that you were only friends.

Friends.

The word tasted bitter on your tongue now.

It was only meant to be a prank, originally, when Impulse had convinced you to skip out on Grian for one of his daily check-ins. Your fellow Hermit had told his plan to you with a hushed tone, mischief dancing in his eyes as he explained what he wanted you to do.

Naturally, you were immediately onboard- You did hang around Grian all the time, it would be absurd if you hadn’t picked up on at least a little bit of his chaos-causing ways. Besides, you didn’t see the harm in going along with it. Consider making him sweat for an hour or two penance for whenever he had strong-armed you into dipping on your other friends countless times before.

You wished you had thought your decision through a little bit more. Maybe you could’ve prevented this whole mess. Maybe less blood- no blood at all was too much to ask for, you know that now- would’ve been spilled.

This is your fault.

This is all your fault.

The tears staining your cheeks have long since dried, the leftover saline sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you sit, tucked away deep in the annals of Impulse’s industrial base. You had always been a little jealous of the eye that the builder had for architecture, but now you were only thankful for the multitude of hiding spots it allowed you as Grian tore through the build like a man possessed.

Maybe he was. The avian wasn’t acting like the same person, the same best friend that you had known for so long.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Grian’s soft call send tremors wracking through your body, blood chilling as you raised one shaky hand to press against your mouth. You whimpered softly, trying to contain your terror as you tracked the subtle sounds of his movement throughout the base.

You had holed up behind a thin patch of wall that Impulse had yet to fortify fully (not that he was ever going to get the chance to), replacing the material behind you as carefully as you could in your rush to hide.

The sound of Grian’s sword plunging through the brunette builder’s stomach kept replaying in your head over and over again without end, Impulse’s choked off gasp before his body crashed to the floor filling your view whenever you closed your eyes.

“Aren’t you tired? C’mon, mobs’ll be spawning soon,” you heard Grian say once more, his tone deceptively light and conversational as it drew nearer with every step of his bloodstained boots. It would’ve fooled you if you hadn’t seen the manic light in his face as he cut one of his fellow Hermits down, satisfaction drawing the corners of his lips up in a grin at the loss of life.

You flinched as something scraped across the wall directly in front of your face, a sound like a hard point being dragged across the material filling the small space you were curled up in. Choking back a gasp, your eyes blindly darted towards where the noise originated, desperately trying to track the blonde’s movements through hearing alone.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he murmured, voice dipping into something softer as though he actually felt upset. “I wasn’t planning on you being there when I had to take care of him, honestly. He was just- just getting too close, is all! I’m sure you understand?”

No, no you didn’t. His rambling speech felt foreign, the words jumbling up in your mind like alphabet soup. You wished that this had been some horrible nightmare instead of what you knew it was, was the ache in your legs from holding your position for so long proved- this was reality.

You shifted in position and hissed involuntarily as your muscles screamed in protest. Realizing what you had done, you froze, jaw snapping shut with an audible click as you raised your eyes to where all sound had silenced outside.

You barely had time to release a gasp as light poured into your little hidey-hole and you were yanked out into the open air. For a brief moment, you were free of constriction, floating, before two arms were wrapping around you and cradling you to a toned chest, broad from hours of back-breaking work.

“There you are,” Grian breathed, an uncontrollable grin splitting his face. You desperately tried to pull away, only for his grip on you to tighten, enough so that you knew you would have bruises come the next day. “Oh, enough of that, now. Let’s get you home.”

As the coppery stench of his red sweater flooded your senses, a wave of helplessness washed over you.

You were never getting out of this, were you?

#request #anonymous #a meal for the children #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #c!grian #grian x reader #c!impulsesv #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: blood #tw: implied/referenced murder #tw: murder

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falcqns · 3 years

Note

Hi i was wondering if you do like a Chris Evans x reader like chris decided to pull a prank on the reader like hes being mean to her for a whole day like he got the reader her favorite food and when the reader ask why chris didnt get any chris just said hes not hungry and the reader is abt to eat when chris steal her food and said hes hungry and the reader was like “can i get one bite? I didnt eat anything today🥺” and chris said no and the reader was like please and chris still said no and the reader just get an apple and sit there and chris continue to be mean to the reader and the reader cried or something and chris apologizes and said it was a prank. Thank you if you end up doing my request 😩❤️

meanie

pairing: chris evans x wife!reader

warnings: angst!! fluff, mentions of divorce

a/n: hope you enjoy!!

you had no idea what you had done.

your husband had seemed happy last night, but when he woke up, he seemed to be a completely different person.

he had barely said two words to you the entire day, and when he did talk to you, he was short and snappy. he didn’t smile at you, he didn’t give any affection. no kisses, no hugs, nothing.

you’d thought originally that he was just having an off day. and while it doesn’t excuse his behaviour, it would explain it. but, Scott called him just after lunch, and he seemed to be his normal happy self.

you had selfishly thought he was back to normal, but then he muted himself and snapped at you when you asked if he wanted to come on Dodgers walk with you.

when you got home from the walk with Dodger, he was gone. he didn’t even leave a note, he just left.

you knew he wouldn’t do that for no reason, you had abandonment issues from a previous relationship so he knew better than to do something like that. you’d tried calling and texting him, but he didn’t answer. you tried to track his phone, but he turned off the location. he didn’t even leave a note.

you’d just got off the phone with Lisa, who had no idea where her son was either, when Chris walked through the door with your favourite food.

you smiled, thinking everything was fine now, and went to eat your first meal of the day.

he gave you the food, and when you asked if he wanted any, he said no, and walked away, but just as you went to open the bag, he walked back into the kitchen and took his, saying that he changed his mind.

he walked into the living room with it, leaving you standing in the kitchen with tears welling up in your eyes. you willed them away, and once they were gone, went to ask Chris if you could have some.

he said no. you were even more confused. why was he being so mean? you asked again, and explained that you hadn’t eaten anything all day, and he said that that was your fault, and he was hungry.

you sighed, and walked to the kitchen. you grabbed an apple, washed it, and headed to the bedroom. you’d barely made it through the doors, when your tears came back full force, and you sunk to the ground with your apple in one hand.

you sat there, eating your apple, and crying. once the apple was gone, you’d realized that you shouldn’t put up with his bitchy attitude. he was being so nice to everyone, except you, and you had no idea why. if you had done something, why didn’t he just tell you?

you disposed of the apple core, and grabbed your gym duffel out of the closet. you threw your toiletries, electronics, and a few sets of outfits inside before zipping it up.

you slung it over your shoulder, and headed down the hallway.

as soon as you passed the living room, Chris spoke up.

“where are you going?” he asked, and you turned to face him.

“away. i don’t know for how long, but yeah.”

his brow furrowed. “why?”

you scoffed. “why? you’re really asking me why?” you asked, and Chris nodded, still confused. “you’ve been mean to me all day! what have i done to you? you’ve been short and snappy with me, but have been nice to Scott and your mom. you brought home my favourite food, and then ate it in front of me when i haven’t eaten anything because i’ve been wondering what the hell i did wrong to make you so pissed off! so i’m leaving! i’m done with it! i’m not having a repeat of my last relationship!” you exclaimed, and walked out of the house, your husband trialing behind you.

“baby, it was a prank,” he explained, a smile on his face. you flipped around to face him.

“A PRANK?! THATS YOUR IDEA OF A PRANK?! MAKE YOUR WIFE WORRIED SICK ABOUT WHAT SHE DID WRONG?! BE MEAN TO YOUR WIFE, REFUSE TO LET HER EAT, AND REDUCE HER TO TEARS ALL FOR A PRANK?!” Chris’s face paled. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” you screamed, and slapping him across the face.

you threw your bag in the car and walked around to the other side. you got in and turned it on. Chris grabbed the door handle.

“baby, c’mon. i’m sorry. it was a bad prank, and i shouldn’t have done it. just don’t do this. don’t leave. i need you.” he begged, tears rimming his blue eyes. at least he knows what he did was wrong, you thought.

“Chris. let go of my door. i’m leaving and that’s that. now maybe you’ll know how i felt for 6 hours today when you were gone.” you said and pulled out of the driveway, forcing Chris to let go of the handle.

you pulled onto the street, and glanced back at Chris, who was watching in disbelief as his wife drove away.

you pulled into your favourite restaurant, and ordered the food that was so harshly ripped from you earlier, before parking in a school parking lot to eat. you looked back at your bag, and thought about your options.

you knew you weren’t overreacting, but you couldn’t live without Chris. you were putting your debit card back into your wallet, when you saw one of Chris’s credit cards.

he told you that you needed it, in case you got stranded somewhere, and needed money. he made more money than you did, so it made sense for you to have it. you’d never used it, but there was a good $2000-$3000 on it, and it was only 3pm on a Saturday, so all the malls were still open.

you sighed, and pulled into the lane that would lead to the nearest mall.

by the time you made it home, it was 9 pm. you walked in the house with the bag you packed, as well as numerous shopping bags. Chris wasn’t on the ground floor of your shared home, and you could hear him talking to his mom in your bedroom, so you made a beeline to the guest room.

you stayed in there the remainder of the night, not answering the door when Chris realized you were home and had barricaded yourself inside the room.

you heard him take Dodger out for another walk, and you decided you shouldn’t have to sleep on the guest room bed, and decided to switch rooms.

you locked yourself in your room, but left your bags in the guest room. you got ready for bed, and had just shut the light off when he knocked on the door, begging you to let him in, which you didn’t.

after about 10 minutes, he gave up on getting you to talk to him, and resigned to sleeping in the guest room for the night.

when you woke up the next morning, you were on a mission.

the shopping had really cleared your head yesterday, and you knew just what you had to do.

you marched down the stairs to where Chris was making you breakfast, and cleared your throat.

he turned around and was about to walk to you when you held out a hand to stop him before you spoke.

“i want a divorce.” you said simply, and watched as all the colour drained from Chris’s face.

“w-what?” he stuttered, and you repeated your sentence.

“i said i want a divorce.”

Chris dropped the spatula as tears rimmed his eyes.

“please don’t do this. i’m sorry for what i did. i shouldn’t have pranked you like that. i thought you’d figure it out, or you’d find it funny after. i-i wasn’t thinking. i’m sorry. please don’t leave me. i cant live without you.” He begged, his tears spilling over.

you shook your head. “there’s nothing that you can say that will stop this from happening. you crossed a line. i’ve put up with a lot of your pranks, but i won’t put up with this one. it was wrong, and it shouldn’t have happened. i don’t want to be with someone who thinks it’s okay to treat me like that.” you stated. you pulled your wallet out of your pocket, and grabbed his card out. “here’s your credit card. we’re done.” you said, and walked away, leaving Chris dumbfounded in the kitchen.

Chris hadn’t moved from the spot you left him in.

you wanted a divorce?

he thought you’d never say something like that, but then again, he crossed a major line yesterday. he thought you’d find it funny, but apparently you didn’t.

he eventually sunk to the floor, and remained there, until you entered the kitchen again. he looked up to you, trying to convey all the pain and misery he was feeling at the idea of you leaving him, and was shocked to see a smile on your face.

you crouched to his level, and giggled.

“now you know what it’s like to be pranked like that.” you said simply.

it took Chris a second to realize what that meant, but when he did, he threw himself into your arms, and sobbed in relief.

#chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans actor #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader

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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 years

Text

You Again–Teddy Sanders

A few years ago, my brother and his wife had some issues with a fraternity living next door. All the horrible pranks and stories were almost unbelievable.

Until a new sorority moved in. Then the pranks and the stories got even worse. Somehow, the girls were more ruthless than the boys. At least in a whole other way.

When things got too much, he called me in for backup. The second I pulled in front of his house, I looked over and saw the girls in the front yard glaring at me. To be petty and, well me, I got out of my car and waved.

"Y/N!"

I looked over to see Kelly running out of her house. I laughed as she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house.

"Kel," I chuckled as we got back inside. "Will you calm down? This isn't going to be just like what happened with the fraternity."

"You don't understand," she sighed. "These girls are ruthless."

"Yeah," I smirked. "Girls are horrible. Why do you think after my first semester at college, I lived alone?"

"Makes sense," she smiled.

"Where's Stella?" I asked. I laughed before adding, "And Mac, but all I really care about is Stella."

"She's upstairs," Kelly chuckled. "She should be awake from her afternoon nap in a few minutes."

Kelly and I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Stella and preparing dinner. A little after 5, we heard the front door open and shut.

"Kels? Is Y/N here?"

"In here," I answered for her.

We looked over to see Mac walking in. I put my drink down before standing up and walking over, hugging my brother.

"How are you, kid?"

"Better than you, it would seem," I chuckled as we broke the hug. I froze when I saw the doubt in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he stuttered.

"Mac," I said slowly. "What's up?"

"It's just. . . Maybe I shouldn't have brought you into this. I mean, these girls are little devils."

"Mac," I cut him off. "I went to college. I know how manipulative and bitchy girls can be. I can handle myself."

* * * * *

We spent the rest of the night coming up with a plan. This weekend was the school tailgate where fraternities and sororities sell cookies and car washes to raise money. Kelly overheard the girls talking about selling drugs under the table at their booth.

Kelly suggested we call the cops, but I had a better idea. Instead of selling them out, we were going to steal their drugs. The entire time we made our preparations, Mac kept mentioning a new friend that could help us out. Whoever this was, planned to meet us at the tailgate. He was apparently going to distract the girls while I grabbed their stuff.

When the day finally came, I fit in with the crowd but my brother and his wife stood out like, well old people at a college party. I looked around, rolling my eyes at the college kids already drunk off their asses.

I graduated from NYU with a degree in art history a year ago. I was currently working at a museum in New York as an assistant paying my dues. I planned to eventually go to Europe and work at some of their museums.

I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw him getting out of a car.

"You okay?" Mac asked. I grabbed his hand and dragged him away. We walked a little away from everybody, tucking behind some of the booths.

"What's going on?" Mac laughed as we finally stopped.

"You didn't tell me he was the one helping you," I said through my teeth.

"He?" He asked. "You mean Teddy? I didn't think it mattered," he shrugged. The look in his eyes changed from playful to skeptical. "Wait, why does it matter that Teddy's here?"

"Mac," I said, my breath getting caught in my throat. "You were at college when I was in high school."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Do you remember the guy I dated all four years?"

"I never met him," he shrugged. Suddenly, I heard him suck in a breath. "No way," he mumbled. "You and Teddy?"

"Teddy and I dated throughout high school," I explained. "We were inseparable."

I ran my fingers through my hair as all the memories came flooding back. I bit back the tears as I thought about the last time we saw each other.

"Look, I didn't know that you two dated," he mumbled, "but we really need his help. He knows all of this fraternity-sorority shit. I don't think we can do this without him. Anyways, it happened a long time ago. You've grown a lot since then. And I'm sure he has too."

"You don't understand," I cut him off. "Mac, you were at college so you didn't go to my graduation. At my party that night, Teddy dumped me because he–and I quote– "didn't want to be a caged bird".'

"He said that?" Mac asked under his breath.

"That was the last time we saw each other," I said, my voice breaking. "We went from being closer than ever to being strangers."

"Oh, Y/N," Mac sighed as he pulled me into his chest. He rubbed my back and leaned his chin on the top of my head like he used to do when we were younger.

"If this is too much," he whispered, "why don't you go home?"

"What?" I asked, pulling out of the hug. "I thought you needed my help."

"I do," he stuttered, "but I don't want to force you to be around an ex that makes you feel uncomfortable."

"It's not that he makes me feel uncomfortable," I said quickly. "I just. . . I haven't seen him since. . ."

"Y/N, you don't have to stay."

"No," I said unconvincingly. "I want to help. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" He asked as he rubbed my shoulders.

"Yes," I said, trying to sound more convincingly. "I'll be fine."

Before we could walk back to the group, Mac grabbed my hand. I smiled as he led me through the already drunk college kids. We jumped back when a group of girls cut us off.

"Geez," I scoffed. "I don't remember college being this. . . Drunk."

"Yeah," Mac laughed. "That's because you always had your head in your textbook and a paintbrush in your hand."

"Y/N?"

Mac's hold on my hand tightened when Teddy noticed me. I took a deep breath before turning towards everybody.

"Hi, Teddy," I said, my voice not coming out as strong as I had wished it had. "It's nice to see you."

"Really?" He asked. He cleared his throat as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "I just mean, it's nice to see you too."

It took everything in me not to look him up and down. From what I've allowed myself to see, he's changed for the better. His looks anyway.

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Not much," I shrugged. "I got a job at a museum right out of college."

"That's great," he smiled.

"What about you?" I asked. I saw the look in eyes falter.

"I'm umm. . . I graduated," he stuttered out.

"That's great."

We stared at each other, neither one of us looking away. The tension between us grew the longer we stared at each other. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kelly walking over to Mac and whispering in his ear. Mac leaned over and explained what I already explained to him. Kelly's eyes widened as she looked between Teddy and me.

I cleared my throat, finally breaking eye contact with Teddy. I looked down and played with my fingers. I took a shaky breath, struggling to push down the sobs I've been holding back for years.

"Alright," Mac said, awkwardly clearing his throat. "The girls aren't meant to set up their booth for an hour. That gives us time to study the environment and finalize the best approach."

"Why are you talking like that?" I laughed.

"Like what?" Mac asked innocently.

"Like you're straight out of a crime show," Kelly backed me up.

"Can we just focus on the plan?" Mac sighed. I sent Kelly a playful wink as Mac started to explain the plan.

The entire time Mac went over the plan he's already gone through a million times, I could feel Teddy watching me. It took everything in me not to look at him.

Even though I told Mac I would be fine, it became clear rather quickly just how hard this was going to be.

The second we agreed where we would walk, I left. I wrapped my arms around myself, chewing on my bottom lip as the memories came rushing back.

Teddy Sanders is the only boy that I've ever fallen in love with. We went to school together all our lives. We didn't talk much in elementary school, but we got closer in middle school. We spent more time together and the more time we spent together, the more we fell for each other.

When we dated, he knew more about me than anyone and I knew more about him than anyone. And when all of it came crashing down, I felt like I lost a part of myself.

I walked into a random campus building, quickly finding the bathroom. I locked the stall and leaned against the door. I closed my eyes and had to take slow deep breaths to keep myself from crying.

Seeing Teddy after all these years made the pain feel like the breakup happened yesterday.

* * * * *

On my way back from the bathroom, I checked my watch. In forty-five minutes, Teddy and Mac were going to go distract the girls as Kelly and I stole their weed. As I left the building, someone grabbed my hand and pulled me into the alley.

I had just enough time to see it was Teddy before his lips came crashing down onto mine. My mind screamed at me to stop, but I started kissing him back anyway.

I moaned as Teddy pushed me up against the side of the building. Our lips moved hungrily in sync as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. As we made out, memories of high school flashed in my brain. Soon all the pain came rushing back too.

"No," I said as I roughly broke the kiss, pushing him off of me. "I can't do this, Teddy. After everything. . . I can't do this again."

I started to walk around the building, but Teddy ran over and stopped me again. He grabbed my hand, spinning me around.

"Y/N, please. . ."

"No!"

I tore my hand out of his hold, tears officially streaming down my face. I took a shaky breath as I looked at my first love.

"You have no idea how much it hurt when you broke up with me," I said, my voice breaking. "Do you even care that you broke my heart?"

"Of course I care," he stuttered.

"Do you even care that when you left, it shattered my heart? You shattered my heart, Teddy Sanders."

"Any chance I could help you piece it back together?"

I scoffed, wrapping my arms around myself. "It's not that easy," I said under my breath.

"I know," he said instantly. "And I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I meant that I want to help piece it back together. I broke it, so I should fix it."

"Teddy," I sighed.

"Look, I know I was an asshole for leaving you the way I did. I never should've walked away like that."

"Why did you?" I asked, cutting him off.

"What?"

"You never explained why you suddenly didn't want to be a caged bird anymore," I said, nervously looking at my fingers. "I mean. . . I wasn't trying to "cage" you or keep you down. I just thought that we could continue being us, even in college. And honestly, the idea of going away to college was scary and I wasn't sure if I could do it. I thought that if we were together then it wouldn't be. . ."

I let my sentence drop as I wrapped my arms around myself and looked away from him.

"Y/N," he whispered, trying to get me to look at him. "I had no idea."

I shook my head, tightening my arms around myself. I looked down at my feet and asked the question I've been mulling over since he broke up with me.

"Why did you leave me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't get into NYU."

I snapped my head up to finally look at him. "What?"

He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Senior year, right before graduation, I found out that I didn't get into NYU like you did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was embarrassed," he admitted, not looking at me.

"Teddy," I sighed, "I would've gone to school here with you. I could've gotten just as good of a degree here as I did at NYU."

"And I knew you would offer to come with me," he said quickly. "But you've wanted to go to NYU since middle school. I didn't want to be the reason you didn't follow your dreams."

"But Teddy," I stuttered, "you're more important to me than a degree from a special college."

"I am?"

"Were. . ." I corrected half-heartedly. "You were more important to me than NYU. I mean, I could've gotten just as good of a degree at your school as I did at NYU."

"If I had asked, would you have come with me?" He asked, taking a hesitant step towards me. I held my breath as he grabbed my hands, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"Yes," I whispered.

The second that word left my mouth, Teddy leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I couldn't resist the urge to kiss him back. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as our lips moved in sync. Teddy pushed his tongue into my mouth, instantly battling for dominance. I moaned when I felt Teddy snake his hands down my back. I bit his lip as he squeezed my ass.

"Teddy," I gasped, breaking the kiss and leaning our foreheads against each other.

"I'm sorry I broke your heart," Teddy whispered. "Please give me a chance to put it back together."

I bit my bottom lip as I looked into his eyes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him like crazy. Ever since we broke up, I have constantly thought of him. I reached up and gently cupped his face in my hand.

"It's the least you could do for breaking it."

I gasped, giggling as Teddy pulled me into his chest and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved desperately in sync as Teddy's arm tightened around my waist. He broke the kiss again with his signature smirk on his face.

"How about we get out of here and I can start repairing your heart now?"

"Aren't you supposed to help Mac distract the girls while I steal a garbage bag full of weed?" I chuckled.

"Yeah," he sighed dramatically. "But I much rather take you somewhere and start fixing things."

"Teddy," I chuckled as I pulled out of his arms. I took his arm and led him back to our meeting spot. "First, we destroy the sorority. Then you can start fixing my heart."

#teddy sanders #teddy sanders x reader #teddy sanders imagine #neighbors #neighbors imagine #neighbors fanfic #zac efron #zac efron imagines

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shotorozu · 3 years

Text

TITLE : CARTOON KISSES

pairing : todoroki shouto x reader

synopsis : it looks like your boyfriend doesn’t understand why you like miraculous ladybug, but i guess you could say that he was more jealous, than confused. thus— why he did that

legend : [Y/N = your name, L/N = your name] afab! reader with they/them pronouns, quirk not specific

note(s) : self indulgent because yeah, my birthday‼️‼️ yes i’m an aries. the episode i’m referencing in this fic is backwarder— season 3, episode 4, and dark cupid, season 1, episode 10

this is a birthday fic for me 💅🤍✨‼️

Lately, everything has been hectic— on both sides anyway.

Was it really your fault? Or was it his fault? In fact, it wasn’t either of yours faults. UA was just very meticulous about what the students should be doing when and how.

Then again, it wasn’t like you never saw your boyfriend— Todoroki Shouto; the boy with dual colored hair that could easily blend in with the peppermint candy isle. That’s not the point though, you do actually see him

The only time you get to actually spend some time with him, is when the two of you are in each other’s rooms. Either enveloped in each others arms, or really— doing the most random things, at the most random times.

Or the other possible outcome, watching shows together. Which would rather be right about now.

Shouto lays right beside you, his right arm draped around your shoulder to keep you in his firm hold. Meanwhile, you’re cuddled up right on his side, occasionally pressing your face into his shirt because why not?

“For crying out loud! can’t they just date each other already?!” You exclaim in absolute agony, watching the two main protagonists— Ladybug and Chat Noir, be playful with each other mid-battle.

Shouto’s gaze averts down onto you, and in reality— he doesn’t look all that invested, compared to you, who’s making commentary everytime something drastic happens in the episode. If he wasn’t, you couldn’t really blame him. He only just started watching this show with you merely a few days ago (really, it has only been 2 days.)

“Aren’t they like.. the same people?” He’s puzzled. The masks hide nothing! Even he could piece together that the two heroes could be linked to their civilian selves— most especially, Marinette. Since her persona doesn’t really have a drastic change her appearance, in comparison to her partner.

“Yes, that’s what makes this entire show so.. interesting! They’re so.. oblivious! And this has been dragging on for several years!”

Shouto’s confused, in all honesty. Really, what even is the love square? can’t they just say who they are? he’d guess that the mechanics are different, compared to the real world— where people already know who you are (excluding special cases)

He has so many questions, and his train of thought is put to an end, when he hears a high pitched squeal—

“DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?” You practically squirm in his hold, thrashing back and forth as you replay the scene of Chat Noir kissing Ladybug’s hand, as he bids farewell to her.

“He.. kissed her hand?”

“Yes!” You replay the scene, and you thrash around in your spot on the bed, practically fawning over the simple gesture. His expression falters when he sees you slip out of his grasp, and he can only gently pull you back in

When you kiss his cheek goodbye, as you part ways with him, he’s left sitting in silence. He doesn’t know what to think

I mean, it really could be a stretch of a situation. Why else would you be squealing watching such simple acts of romance— and it all seems too easy. Maybe you like guys similar to Chat Noir? who are natural romantics, and people that are just oozing of confidence? Maybe you love hand kisses? (It’s not like he doesn’t give you them, but.. out in public? not really.)

Or maybe.. there’s something else.

And maybe you like being called M’lady, and names similar to that? he doesn’t really know.

Which is why, he decides to binge at least half of the show, and understand the lore of “Miraculous | Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’re puzzled when Shouto starts acting differently

I mean, it could be a dare for all you know— but he doesn’t seem like the type to drag out a dare for 5 days. He wouldn’t be that committed to a.. what would you call this?

It’s.. just different. He’s acting differently, and you could just hope it’s a prank, or even a drawn out consequence of a bet he manage to lose— it would be nice to know about the sudden change of attitude.

He says nothing the next time you guys have another miraculous marathon, nothing out of the ordinary! however, the youngest Todoroki seems to be wanting to do.. something.

As per usual, you’re seated next to him, a change compared to the usual times where you’re slumped against his side, which really— bugged your boyfriend.

Your eyes stayed glued onto the screen, as you attentively watched Chat Noir pull Ladybug down from a dangling roof, chest to chest, shushing her, as if he wanted to tell her all of the things that were on his mind at that exact moment

“It’s happening, it’s happening!” You squeal, as if it wasn’t the 10th time you played said scene— and by the looks of it, you’re a ‘ladynoir’ fan.

You can’t see it, but his two toned eyes narrow down into slits— and he grumbles, knowing that he probably should just.. do it. There’s not stopping it now, he’d take the chance.

When the moment nearly happened, you body made an impulse— and simply moved on it’s on, without much thought.

You wouldn’t have noticed it, due to the awfully large (to an outsider, it wasn’t a large distance, but to him, it was.) distance— but you’re awfully aware of the warm hand trailing down your forearm, your body immediately relaxes when he tugs on your arm with care, peppering kisses along your forearm, and going down to the backside of your hand.

“W-what are you doing?!” You exclaim in surprise, your cheeks heating up like a fresh batch of toast coming out of the toaster. Yet, your hot-cold boyfriend says nothing, and continues to plant kisses onto your skin with no hesitation.

Then, he makes a point to trail back higher and higher, every time his lips press against your skin, you only grow closer to the brink of overheating.

“I figured you’d be interested in such a gesture,” He mutters against the crook of your neck, not caring at all if the kiss he just pressed against your delicate skin, was rather damp at all.

You’re still stunned, you’d question whoever wouldn’t! A second ago, you were just watching cartoons and.. he was—

“I thought it would be nice to.. replicate them.” His gaze shifts onto the screen, referring to the cartoon, of course.

He.. was copying the show?

“You mean by.. flustering me like how Chat Noir flusters Ladybug?”

“You said it, not me.” Which only confirmed your previous theories and questions. You don’t know why and how you didn’t see this all before— but it does make sense now.

You fall forward, bursting into laughter. The effect of his actions seem to be the opposite of what he was hoping for

“I’m sorry, did I..”

“No! You actually got me, don’t get me wrong. You absolutely wooed me!” You poke at his cheek, in a poor attempt in brightening up the hush mood.

“In all seriousness, you don’t need to copy whatever Chat Noir does! Do what feels natural to you, and as much as I really liked that kiss, I prefer.. your signature style of kisses.” Shouto didn’t get the chance to question what you meant at that moment— it being all too quick, since you lifted his arm to rest against his side, your gaze suddenly apologetic “I’m sorry if you felt like you were doing things wrong. No character from a TV show can rival you!”

The knot that he didn’t even know existed, slowly eased away from the pit of his stomach. He smiles, content with your words— he didn’t know how you did it, how you knew the way to his heart with your words but.. he’s happy

“But it did work though, right? I did make you flustered.”

Yeah, Shouto is back to normal, when his terribly blunt questions come back.

And yeah, Chat Noir might be charismatic and swave, but at the end of the day— anything Shouto does fills you with satisfaction, up until the brim.

If it would be cartoon kisses, or his signature style of affection.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

TW; Death mentioned

I had this thought, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame and remember in the beginning where the Gypsy mother ran to the church and claimed sanctuary, but she died on the church steps

What if c!Dream either was let out of the prison or escaped and c!sam chased him down (for whatever reason you want) and Dream runs to church prime in the Holy Land, claiming sanctuary, and maybe Sam accidentally kills Dream on that land in front of the church

this was a FUN ask, anon, sorry it took so long for me to get to it

tw: DEATH, DEREALIZATION, religious themes, blood, grief, vomit, murder, violence, implied torture/abuse, dark themes, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault

To be honest, when George opens his eyes, he has no idea if he’s awake or not.

This has become an...alarmingly common occurrence. He’d been bothered by it at the beginning, had spent hours stuck in his own head, dropping and picking up items, counting forwards and backwards, seeking any sign possible that what he was looking at was real and not just a figment of his own dreams. In the end, it’d all been for nothing; he would be 100% sure in reality, that what he was looking at was the real world, only for it to dissolve into shadow and himself back to lying on that same bed in the middle of nowhere that he’d never remembered lying down in. At some point, he must’ve just...given up. It’s not like the dreams were unpleasant; they were the exact opposite, most of the time. Unlike that one reality-bending fit of wakefulness that had ended in him boxed in by lava in the middle of a chamber of red, one that wasn’t a dream, surprisingly enough, his dreams are usually just- normal. He goes to his field, harvests some wheat. Talks to Quackity and Sapnap and Karl, though he’s almost certain he’s not talked to any of the three in a long time in the waking world. Sometimes, he’ll even be visited by a god wearing Dream’s face, XD, though sometimes XD is there in the real world, too, so they’re hardly a determining factor. If he’s really lucky, in the dreams, he’ll even see Dream.

Dream, as he remembers him, not as the monster he’s been told he became. Once, the dream had even dropped in the flustered, confused form of Dream from the beginning of the server, all fluffed up hair and boyish joy. Usually, he’ll see a Dream that’s been let out the prison, hale and whole and sheepish, stuttering through brief apologies and hugging him in that overeager way that makes his ribs ache and then the three of them, for the lack of better words, prance off into the sunset without a worry in their minds.

And then he wakes up.

George rubs at his eyes, looks up at the sky to reorient himself; it looks real. It feels real. The sun is warm on his skin, the grass still wet with dew from the morning, brushing against his ankles as he stands up. He’s in the area behind Punz’s house, his walls and towers looming in front of him, and George blows a breath through his teeth as he goes towards the direction of the Prime Path. There’s no knowing if this is a dream or reality, but either way, standing in one place does nothing for him. Better to get the rest of the day over with than to waste it here.

He’s not even halfway to the Prime Path when sirens sound on the horizon, giving him pause. That’s never happened before. They’re loud, and shrill, and something niggles at the back of his head in a vague sense of familiarity, begging for him to understand and take note. He frowns, and picks up the pace- if he gets on the Path, he might get a better idea of what’s going on. At the very least, if there’s something dangerous, his best bet is the Holy Land.

Surprisingly enough, when he gets there, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only the consistent drone of sirens on the horizon. George strains his eyes along both sides of the path; nobody comes, or speaks, or makes their presence known. There’s only George, alone. It’s strangely eerie.

Is this a dream? he considers briefly, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter.

It’s another several minutes before anything changes. He stands there, at the edge of the Holy Land, until he hears a faint clamor that draws his attention, prompts him to edge forward along the path. The sound, starting faint, quickly swells in volume, underscored by the hum of the siren still ringing in the distance.

First come the shouts, overlapping, too muffled for George to quite pick the words out between the sounds. Then come the footsteps, low and rumbling, making the path creak and shudder. Then-

“Get him!”

George watches, eyes wide behind his goggles, as a dull orange blur reaches the crest of the hill and stumbles down it in a dead sprint, not paying him a second glance as they swing under the arched entrance to the Holy Land to enter within it. They collapse into a heap on the quartz steps- and oh, that’s blood seeping out of them, staining the white red, their hands tight on the stairs as a shivering string of sounds leave their crimson-speckled lips. Their face turns towards him, unseeing, and George feels something splinter, irreparably, in his chest, because that’s Dream.

He’s dreamed about Dream a lot, but never like this. Never injured, like this, face hollow and haunted, scars splitting his skin into shards. The wheezes in his dreams had always been from laughter, not this seething, spitting rattle that emerges from his chest, worryingly wet and irregular. He’s collapsed on the bottom steps of Church Prime, legs bent strangely in a way that must be uncomfortable against the ground, arms resting against the edges of the stairs, all skin and bone and still-bleeding cuts, and he looks like he’ll never be able to stand up again.

“Please, please, pl-please,” he stutters through his sobs, meaningless begs and platitudes falling on George’s ears and making him cringe back at the sound, “please-” and George doesn’t quite know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know what has left his friend in a ruin on the ground, leaving bloodstains on the stone, but the words worm under his skin and into his skull and refuse to leave. Footsteps continue to pound on the path behind him; George turns around, gasps at the sight of two figures, fully in enchanted netherite, thundering over the wood and into the Holy Land.

“What-”

“There!” The voice is rough but familiar, and the figures dash over to where Dream is lying, defenseless. His pleads rise in pitch and volume, becoming almost unbearable to listen to, and there’s an angry clamor of voices and an awful, wet crack and a shrill scream-

Silence.

“Holy fuck-” George’s head is spinning, the voice finally registering- that’s Quackity, stance wide, a sword in his hand. Beside him, tall and imposing, stands Sam, his full set of Warden armor shining brilliantly under the still-rising sun. His hands are wrapped around his trident, gleaming cyan, the end speared straight through Dream’s chest.

“You killed him,” Quackity hisses, head raising and only then meeting George’s eyes. “Sam- what are we going to- you killed him.”

“I-” Sam shakes his head. “I had to, he was going to get away-”

“Sam-” Quackity’s voice pitches higher, more desperate, “Sam, did you- oh fuck, we’re in the Holy Land-”

The air shatters.

That, at least, seems to be the only way to describe what happens; George watches, breathless, as the air shimmers and warps unnaturally, the way his dreams do right before he wakes up, only centralized in the Church entrance instead of surrounding him on all sides. Blood continues to run down the stairs, stark against the pure white of the quartz, so dark it almost seems black. The ripple clarifies, deepens; there’s a sound like ripping fabric, and something carves a tear through what seems to be existence itself. Behind, there’s a starless void, alluring, wanting, calling, dark and deep and everlasting and the End this is The End-

A whirl of white and green and gold, and the tear is gone, leaving something entirely other in its wake. George shivers in his place; he thought that he’s seen XD angry, before, remembers vividly the feeling of being chased, the God’s voice calling after him as he shut the doors of Punz’s house behind him. He remembers the way their voice had glitched, growing deeper and distorted, the rage with which they had growled at him when they thought they were being used.

That all pales in comparison to this. That was all nothing compared to this.

“YOU-” the deity booms, voice echoing and crackling and rolling like thunder and cracking ice and the roar of the ocean on the sand, making George clamp his hands to his ears in vain. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

George remembers being uncomfortable, back then, at how inhuman XD had seemed. Their jokes, gory and violent and startling, their idea of a prank being playing with people like dolls subject to their whims. It had taken him a while to really seem to get the God and for the God to understand him in turn, a while for him to understand that ignorance did not mean malice, that even a God that had never once known mortality could be so startlingly human. Here, their wings spread over them, seeming large enough to block out the sun, something dark and writhing behind the mask they wear, a sourceless wind howling around their robes and battering against the walls with aimless fury, George is reminded by how powerful they really are. That they are still eldritch, still a God, that they will not hesitate to judge those below him, the ones that they stare at, now, helpless and mortal and trapped within their gaze.

Sam stumbles back on the church steps, grip loosening on his trident. It continues to stick up out of Dream’s unmoving body, splattered with blood halfway up the handle.

“Oh no-” he hisses, and Quackity backs away with him, “no, no no I didn’t want to kill him,”

“THIS DOMAIN IS MINE.” Anyone else and it might’ve sounded petulant, childish. Here, with the deity’s fury directed on the two of them, even on the sidelines all George can feel is terror. “YOU HAVE TAKEN A LIFE UNDER MY PROTECTION, MORTALS.”

“Sam,” Quackity’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Sam, we gotta- we gotta run-”

“WHERE WILL YOU GO, LITTLE MORTAL?” XD disappears, then flashes back into existence at the Holy Land entrance, making Quackity and Sam shriek with their escape route blocked. “YOU HAVE ABUSED THE AUTHORITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND DESTROYED WHAT WAS NOT YOURS TO BREAK. YOU HAVE PURSUED POWER BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND OUTSIDE YOUR POSSESSION. YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, MY REALM. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU SHALL LEAVE UNPUNISHED?”

“XD,” Sam shouts, and thunder cracks overhead.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE,” XD rumbles, their words final, and in the end, just as every other time, all George can do when the world ends is watch. Lightning spears to the ground, striking both Sam and Quackity with twin flashes of brilliant white, striking from a clear blue sky. The air sparks from the power, charged with static electricity and making George’s hair stand on end; thunder claps, seems to shatter the world into two as they disappear in twin shrieks and the smell of burned flesh. Just as quick as it happens, it ends, and George is once again left alone in the Holy Land, vomit clawing up his throat and tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he dry-heaves into the grass.

“XD,” he more begs than says, eyes fixed on Dream, still lying too-still on the church stairs. The deity turns to him, their face strangely blank. “XD, please- please tell me this is a dream.”

“Would that make you happy, George?” the god replies, and George sobs, face collapsing into his hands.

“Please, XD, please tell me- please tell me this isn’t real, please-”

“I don’t understand, George. Would that ease your distress?”

“XD- THIS CAN’T BE REAL- THIS- I-” George sinks to the ground. “He- he was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to come back, he wasn’t-” he grips their robes within his hands. “Please, XD, you can bring him back, please bring him back- this has to be a dream, he can’t be- he can’t be dead-”

Through his cries, the sirens continue to wail.

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