#[[ but with that- tea soaked bug must go to bed ]]
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syndxlla · 1 year ago
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Fck now MY head is full of fanfic ideas because of you. I don't have anywhere to throw them so imma throw them at you 💕 take em! Don't take em! Tell em they're dumb! Say "yes and" or "yes but actually" or "no and" or "no but actually"! I don't do fanfic but I play dnd and that's like the same thing in a lot of ways.
Link comes back and is more hurt by Purahs words than he thought. Tired. Grumpy. Zelda feels a little guilty about all the work Link is doing. Asks to help him cook. Link is grumpy, he's bossy. Controlling. Conflict there? Zelda brushes it off but something is clearly bugging him.
Next day. Link is still upset. Zelda kept a journal previously, asks Link to get her a blank book to write in. Link is forced to go back to the lab, he's planning on apologizing, but it goes badly. Comes back, gives Zelda the book, and goes outside to blow off steam doing a bunch of manual labor. Cleans the horse pens. Chops a shit ton of fire wood. While he's working Zelda snoops more, and hatches a plan. Asks Link to draw her a bath again. Bathes. When Link is to come back into the house, she insists he's dirty and smelly. He needs a bath. Something something, reusing her bath water is embarrassing. While he's bathing she leaves.... but then she comes back and starts cooking the recipe he was being bossy about. He can't leave the tub or she'll see him naked, so he just watches her. In a hot tub. That she just soaked in. Eventually, she leaves so he can get dressed and the pot can simmer. Link is so freaking tired, after the bath all his muscles just relax. They talk about the thing Purah said. Bed time. Link puts on a bunch of fire wood, and sits next to the bed Zelda sleeps in. After him not being able to sleep, Zelda pulls him into the bed. He's basically not even conscious. It's warm with him there. He's asleep. The fire is hot. She takes her top off to stay cool.
Link wakes up to find himself in bed with Zelda. Panic! Gets out to not wake her. She's half nude. Stoicly ignore. Must busy himself to ignore thoughts. Eventually she wakes up too. Or was she awake when he got out of bed? Link pretends nothing happened. Zelda is frustrated. Internally, Link tries to work out how that happened. The next night, when Zelda goes to bed she notices theres no raging fire. He takes his shirt off and joins her, and the bed is just as warm.
Etc etc, someday Purah comes by and sees Link doing a bunch of chores while Zelda sips tea, watching him intensely, practically taking notes, wearing one of his shirts and Purah just sits there like. Oh. They've got it BAD.
Oh f wait the whole school story arc. Link helps bud a school?? Zelda gets better and plays with kids as Link falls madly in love with her watching her? Ahhh!
Something about tending a fire being a symbol for effort into the relationship or something? She uses the fire for closeness, he uses the fire to get away and be stoic or whatever. He wants to be stoic even though he wants to be close, she wants to be close but understands she must look regal to rebuild hyrule. Then they start doing the things together. Im sorry but building a school and teaching together is foreplay for "hey babe you want to have kids?"
haha i love all of this! you guys are all so creative! it makes me so happy that my works have inspired such creativity! i love a lot of these ideas. i’ve had lots of link taking care of zelda but believe be the tables will turn soon!!
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fathachmilis-a · 5 years ago
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@galarmade​ @miicdroppin​
ur both bLOCKED
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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago
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I'm feeling under the weather. Would you write some scenarios of how the GOM boys + Kagami would take care of me to help me feel better???
Awwww! I’m so sorry to hear that!! I hope you feel better ^_^. Hope this helps too! It’s a little long with all the boys. So rest of the GOM + Kagami is under the cut.
Akashi:
Being sick was the worst. Between the body aches & pains, general lethargy, you hadn’t gotten out of bed hardly at all today. You barely had the energy to get up and call school this morning to tell them you weren’t coming. Thankfully, they hadn’t pressed, and wished you a speedy recovery for returning to class on Monday.
That was your wish too.
You didn’t want anyone to know you were sick.
Sleeping most of the day, you were surprised to hear the doorbell much later in the afternoon. This would be the time you would normally just be getting home from school. So, who could possibly expect you to be home right now?
“Akashi-kun…?” You said in surprise. Finding your boyfriend, and his dreamy duel-colored eyes, on the other side of your door.
“Hello darling.” The brilliant red head greeted with a soft smile. As if it was perfectly natural for him to be here. “I heard you were under the weather. So I came to check on you. I also brought a physician to check in on you as well.” You look past Akashi finally to see a nice, older looking gentleman in a white lab coat with a crescent eyed smile.
“Akashi-kun, I already went to the doctor. That’s how I know I’m sick.”
“This doctor is better.” He announced as he saw himself in, with his doctor, and led you over to the couch. “He’s the personal physician for the Akashi family. His credentials are far superior to that of your typical clinic doctor.” You want to say something to him about how it didn’t take ‘superior credentials’ to diagnosis a cold, but Akashi was already positioning you on the couch. He gave you another soft smile before he turned to the doctor with a much cooler look and told him to get to work.
Sure enough, you still have a cold. “Gee, I’m so glad you brought such a brilliant doctor all the way here for me Sei-kun.” You quip sarcastically. Using your familiar nickname now that you were alone.
“Humor me, alright.” He replied. Bringing over the tray of tea he had been busying himself with while the doctor examined you. “I was worried when you didn’t come to school today. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry you….” You mutter into your tea cup once he had handed it to you. “I know…you get worried about people you care about being sick, after what happened to your mom. When Kuroko was sick last winter you practically wore a trench in the floor pacing ‘til you knew he was better.” Your fingers run the brim of the tea mug. Soaking up the warmth in your hands as you hold it. “I thought I could get over it before you found out, so you wouldn’t have to be the wiser. I guess that was pretty stupid hn? You always figure everything out.”
Akashi looked at you with a soft expression. Then he leaned in to kiss your warm forehead. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ever say that about yourself.” He told you. “And yes, it’s true. I get worried when people I care about are ill. But more than that I get worried when people don’t tell me things. When my mother was sick, no one told me anything. They said she was fine. Then one day she was just gone. Being in the dark is worse than just knowing the truth. So I must insist that you tell me these things in the future. Ok?”
You smile a little. You can tell he was trying really hard not to make this an order; his orders were absolute after all. But he was trying to make sure that he was kept in the loop in the future. He was worried about you.
You smile a little and snuggle into Akashi’s chest. “Yes kotei-kun.”
Midorama:
Thank God Japan had such strict firearm laws, because if you had a gun right now you’d shot yourself.
Ok, no you wouldn’t. But death would be a sweet blessing over this cold. This 24-hour bug thing hit you hard and hit you fast. Crippling you from a once vibrant human being to a walking corpse in less than a few hours. You sincerely wished that it was only 24 hours.
You hear the doorbell from the kitchen and hope it’s your soup. Too weak to even make your own food, you’d begrudgingly ordered some hot broth in an attempt to eat and keep up your strength.
You open the door to surprisingly find not your soup but Shutoku’s positive point guard standing there. “Takao?”
“Hi [Y/N]-chan!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Shin-chan heard you were sick. So, he wanted to come take care of you.” Holding of a napsack of supplies.
You blink once, looking around to see if you had somehow missed Midorima in your fever fogged mind. “He’s…here?”
“Don’t just stand in the door way and let the cold air in. You’re just going to make your cold worse.”
You blink again and Takao gave an awkward laugh as he scratched the back of his head, before revealing a small green walkie-talkie from his pocket. “He didn’t want to get sick himself.”
A grumble of irritation left your lips. “So Shintaro sent you to do his dirt work, as usual.” Takao laughed again. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t want any second-hand bedside manner, and I’m just going to sleep anyway.”
“Oy! [Y/N]-chan! Don’t be like that!” The dark-haired teen’s hand lanced out to catch the door. Barring you from closing it. “Shin-chan was really worried when you didn’t come to school today. Honest. He does want to help. You just know how he is though. I know it’s not the same as coming up here himself, but he bought all this stuff and wrote down all these instructions for me to help make you feel better.”
You look at the bag Takao had in his hand. It did seem like a lot. Midorima must have gone to several different drug stores to pick it all up and bring it over here. Even if he did stay in the parking lot. You look past Takao down to the ground floor, where Midorima was standing looking up at your apartment. Seeming to wait for you to follow his instructions about going inside but also with that steadfast look he got when he was truly worried about something.
“You just don’t want to go back down there and tell him you failed.” The boy in front of you laughed with an awkward ‘maybe’. “You can’t stay too long. My parents are going to be back after work, and they’re not going to be happy about a boy in my room and another one looking real stalkery in the parking lot.”
“Thanks [Y/N]!” Takao said as you let him in.
“Make sure they take the cold medicine now, before it gets too late. It’s one cap full every 4 hours. Drink some of the green tea I made for you. It’s in the green thermos. The red one is soup.”
“I know how to take medicine Shintaro. And I already ordered food before you got here. It’s on its way so-Wait! Why am I arguing with a walkie-talkie!?!”
Aomine:
You have an absolutely splitting headache. To the point that every time you get up to go to the bathroom and throw up, you check to see if an icepick is somehow lodged in the back of your skull.
Why did you have to get sick today? Aomine was going to kill you for missing his game; even if the outcome was inevitable. His love for basketball was second only to you (and sometimes you weren’t sure about the ranking). So you being at his games was what he loved most of all. If you weren’t there to see him crush whatever team into dust and lead his team to victory, you’d never hear the end of it. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d get in the Zone early on and not even realize you weren’t there. Yeah…that was possible….
You crack your eyes open into painful, narrow slits from under the covers as you realize the pounding you were hearing was not just in your head but at the door. What idiot was banging on your door in the middle of the afternoon?
Steeling yourself to get up and answer the door. You were surprised to find it was your idiot behind the door. Aomine standing there, in his trademark Too warmup suit and equally trademark scowl.
“Aomine? What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!”
“I kind of live here.”
Aomine tsked through his teeth with a sneer. “That’s not what I meant, baka! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!”
“Oh….” You blink a little in surprise. What was a good way to tell him that you didn’t think he’d care? “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“It’s not, but you should still tell me about it!” He told you. “I had to hear about it from Satsuki. Do you know how stupid that makes me look if I don’t know that my own s/o is sick?!”
“So are you mad that I didn’t tell you? Or are you mad that I made you look stupid?”
“I’m mad at both!” Aomine yelled. He then seemed to realize he was yelling at a sick person, and his s/o, so he took a breath and calmed down. “Here.”
You look down at the convenience store bag he offered you. Taking it in your hands. “What’s this?”
“Jellies.” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know which flavor you’d like when you’re sick, so I just got a bunch of ‘em.”
You blink at the bag, then up at Aomine. He…got these for you? You can see on his face now that he was angry because he was worried about you. Not that you were going to miss the game, but because he was worried about you. Your beautiful basketball ace was too proud to admit it though. “Thanks.” You said softly, with an equally soft smile.
The ace looked away and rubbed the back of his head while he was at it. “Yeah well, jellies always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid. Figured they’d make you feel better too.”
“I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to keep much down.” Maybe that was TMI, but hey. Relationships weren’t always moonbeams and rainbows. “These will really hit the spot.”
“Well, I got extra red ones in there for you, so crack one open.” Aomine said as he saw himself past you and into your apartment.
“Hold on! You’re eating my present now?! Wait…hang on a minute, aren’t you supposed to be warming up for your game? How are you going to get back in time for starting line up if you’re here now?”
“I’m skipping it.” The blunette answered as if it was obvious. Taking off his windbreaker jacket and throwing it in a chair, before he flopped himself on your couch with his limbs stretched out to take up most of it. “There’s no one strong on that team anyway. So, it’s no fun. Let those other guys put in the work for once. They can’t expect me to carry the team all the time. So annoying….”
You stare at Aomine. Was he really….skipping basketball….to be with you here when you’re sick?
A warm feeling, you’re sure was not your fever this time, spread over you. He really did care, didn’t he?
“You should really put those in the fridge before they get warm. Warm jellies are the worst. I still want a red one though. Maybe two now that I think about it.”
You grumble as the ‘warm feeling’ starts to dissipate. Still harboring in your chest, but certainly less profound than it was a moment ago. “It’s super rude to eat someone’s present when they haven’t even had one of them, Aomine.” You still give him the red ones though.
Kise:
Your kingdom for another box of tissues. At the rate you were running through them, a small rainforest was in serious jeopardy.
If you didn’t feel so cruddy, you’d be more worried about that fact. Right now, however, you just wanted your nose to stop running. You had been sneezing and sniffling all day, and in an effort to not be labelled ‘Typhoid Mary’ chosen to stay home from school. It was the reasonable thing to do. When you were sick.  
You finish blowing your nose for the umpth time when your phone rang. You pick it up and answer with a gravely, “hello?”
“[Y/N]-CCHI!!”
You pull the phone away from your ear at the loud, sobbing cry of your name through the phone from your boyfriend. “Kise…don’t yell…”
“[Y/N]-cchi! You’re sick! Why didn’t you tell me?? Kurokocchi had to call me today and tell me!”
Damn Kuroko. That snitch. “Because it’s not a big deal. It’s just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”
“But [Y/N]-cchi! You’re all alone with no one to take care of you! I won’t be back til Sunday!” Kise had gotten a modeling job out of town for the weekend. Some ‘on location’ gig for some sea side pics. Poor Kise. He must be freezing. But, those photos needed to be done and printed long in advance before summer time to boost sales.
If you had had to put money on it, you would have thought he would be the sick one: running around half naked on a frozen beach in January. Yet here you were.
“Do you think I just sit in a dark closet, with nobody around, until you show up again Kise?” A dramatic gasp was heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m not ‘alone’ Kise. I mean, I am now, but I have people around me to help if I need it. So you don’t have to worry.”
“But I’m not around to help you!” Kise whined. You can practically hear the broken-hearted boyfriend emoji floating around his head. “Let me at least order you some soup. Soup is what sick people eat right? That place near your house has that chicken ramen you like. Chicken ramen is like chicken soup. That’s what people eat when they’re sick right?? Or maybe you want something else?? What’s another thing that sick people eat?!”
“Ryouta!” You have to yell his first name to get him out of the spiral. You love Kise, but every now and then his boundless energy was annoying. You let out a sigh, and tell him, “yes, you can order me some food. Don’t go overboard.”
Kise perked up. You do kind of wish you could see his smiling face. It was so cute when he did these adorable 180s. He promised not to go overboard before he hung up the phone and ordered you some food. He then immediately called you back to let you know it would be there in 20 minutes, and told you all about his day.
He stayed with you on the phone when your food came, and even after. You watched one of your favorite movies on Netflix party, curled up in your blankets on your bed. If you closed your eyes and focused on the warmth of your blankets & Kise’s soft voice in your ear, it was almost like he was here.
You fell asleep to that feeling. Feeling much better after you woke up and waiting for Kise to come home.
Kuroko:
You toss and turn a little in your sleep, trying to get back to it as you’ve actually woken up and want to sleep more. Rest was the only cure for a cold. And although you were still tired, even though you’d stayed home and slept all day, you were apparently too tired to fall back asleep.
You crack your eyes open. Your vision blurry for a moment before it clears up. Leaving you with a sea of blue in front of you. “Hello [Y/N].”
You let out a surprise shriek, followed by an almost perfect imitation of your boyfriend’s Ignite Pass against his face. “K-Kuroko!” You stammer, as the young man in question tried to recover from the shattering blow you just gave him. “I’m so sorry! What are you doing here?!”
“Your mother let me in.” He replied, words muffled by his hand. He pulled it away to inspect it and seemed to find no blood. That was a relief. You’d feel so bad if you both were down for the count. “I wanted to see you, and bring you your course work for today.”
Ah. So that’s how he got in. You didn’t think your mother would just let a high school boy in your room unsupervised. Also, maybe it was because Kuroko looked so unthreatening. If only she knew. “Thanks. Sorry again.”
“It’s alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a sick person.” He said with a soft smile. His hand reached out to pet your head. “How are you feeling?”
“Still crummy,” you confess, “but on the mend. I’m sure I’ll be back to school on Monday.”
“Good. Everyone at school misses you. Even the senpais were asking about you today.”
“Did you miss me Kuroko?” You ask sheepishly.
To which he got a surprised expression before softening and immediately answering, “yes.”
Your face warmed with something other than a fever, and you pulled your blanket up to your nose. “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick too.”
“I’ll stay for a little bit longer. Don’t worry. I won’t get sick.”
It was a big fat lie as Kuroko was sick immediately after he left. He really should have known better with his borderline frail physique for anything other than basketball. Still, it was nice to talk to him for a while. And you got to take care of him after you were better, so it was all worth it.
Murasakibara:
‘Just a few more hours. You can do this.’
You keep repeating that to yourself over and over again in your head as you trudge down the hall. Only a few more classes and you could go home to die in peace. Why did you have to have a test today?!
Your penance march comes to a halt when you run into somebody. Looking up you realize it was Murasakibara. “Oh, sorry Mura-kun. I didn’t see you there.” You really must be sick if you hadn’t noticed the tower that was your boyfriend and Yosen center.
“[Y/N]-cchi, you don’t look so good.” The purple haired man drawled.
You frown up at him, not needing to hear that right now. “That’s not very nice to say to your s/o, Mura-kun.”
“But it’s the truth.” He told you. “Honesty is the best policy.” You couldn’t really argue with him there. Besides, you were too weak to argue.
Suddenly your vision was dark. You were worried for a second that you might have blacked out in your sick induced state, but quickly realize that Murasakibara’s large hand was on your face. “Mura-kun, let go.”
“You have a fever.” He replied, completely ignoring your protest. He still let you go, of his own volition, and stood to his full height again. “You need to go to the nurse.”
“No. I need to go to class.” You state in a huff. Batting his hands away in an effective, but weak manner, before walking past him to head just there.
You make it about three steps before Murasakibara grabbed you. Lifting you up in the air with ease and throwing you over his shoulder, in a move that would have made your head spin normally. Not to mention if you had a fever. “Atsushi! Let go!” You shout. Squirming and kicking your legs to no avail.
“No. You need to go to the nurse.” He repeated. Carrying you like a sack of potatoes as he walked down the hall.
“Put me down Atsushi! This is embarrassing! I need to go to class and take my test! It’s important!”
“Nothing is more important that your health.” You stop struggling for a moment as Murasakibara said something actually profound for once. “[Y/N]-cchi needs to take care of themselves, or they’ll just get sicker and get others sick. Tests and silly stuff like school work can wait.”
You grumble and slump down on Murasakibara’s shoulder. It wasn’t like him to be this serious. He also seemed very serious about taking you to the nurse. Nothing seemed capable of deterring him from that path. “Mura-kun, can you put me down? I’ll go to the nurse with you, but this isn’t really comfortable and I can walk on my own.”
He stopped. Then gave you a side ways glance out of the corner of his eye, seeming to not trust you, but still gave in and sat you down. “[Y/N]-cchi is gonna be good?”
“Yes,” you tell him, “I’ll be good.”
He escorted you the rest of the way to the nurses station. Asking if he could have a lollipop, and annoyed when they didn’t have one. What kind of a doctor’s office was this if they didn’t have lollipops, he asked. You’d giggled a little bit and told him to get to class. You’d call him later, since your parents were going to have to pick you up and take you home. You 100% had a fever and were told to go home. Murasakibara pet your head once more before he left to get to class.
The next day, when you were home recuperating, your mother had come into your room with a big candy store bag. “Someone left this big bag of lollipops at the door for you. Do you have any idea who it’s from?”
Kagami:
“I’m really ok Mom….No, it’s not that serious….You really don’t have to come home. Dad either. It’s not the first time I’ve had a cold, and I’m just gonna sleep it off. I’ll be fine by myself…..Yes, I got medicine….No. I’ll be ok. I have a friend from school who’s checking in on me….I love you too. Bye.”
“Your Mom ok?” You look up from the couch when Kagami came up behind it. Handing you a bottle of water for your scratchy sounding throat.
“Yeah. She’s ok. Just worried. She asked if I wanted her to come home, but I told her no.” You hate to admit it but you’re pretty sure it was a hollow gesture. Your parents work was very important. You had learned that early on growing up. They missed certain things in the trade off for having very important, successful careers. One of which was taking care of their child when they were sick.
“You also didn’t tell her it was me who was here. How come?”
“You want me to call her back and tell her we’re playing house?” You ask, with as cheeky of a grin as you can muster being sick. It still got the desired result.
“We’re not playing house!”
“Doctor then?”
Your cute boyfriend turned about as red as his hair, and stalked off back to the kitchen while fluster muttering to himself.
You chuckle a little. Which turned into a coughing fit, so you had to drink a little bit of water.
You and Kagami had initially bonded over being “latchkey kids”. Though your situation was not as severe as Kagami’s, with your parents still being in the country at least, they both traveled for work a lot and were rarely home. They tried to stagger their work trips so you wouldn’t be home alone, but this wasn’t the first time.
This also wasn’t the first time you would be alone when you were sick, if it hadn’t been for Kagami.
“Aren’t you worried you’re going to get sick?” You ask from the living room. Your voice squeaking and squawking the whole time.
“I never get sick.” He replied back confidently. Then rounded the corner with a tray you were 90% sure you did not have in your house before now. “Basketball and eating right keeps me healthy. So, I never get sick. You don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t think eating a dozen cheeseburgers a day counts as ‘eating right’.” You tell him.
Kagami grumbled. Seeming to want to argue or say something, but realizing its bad form to fight with a sick person. Instead, he just sat the tray down in front of you and sat on the couch. “What’s this?”
“Chicken noddle soup,” he replied. “Japan doesn’t have the right noodles. So I had to use soba. But the main part should be the same.”
“You made me chicken soup?”
Kagami tensed for a moment. His face turning hot pink again; possibly from the soft expression on your face or the soft sound of your voice. He turned away, scratching his cheek. “Y-Yeah. Like I said, it’s important to eat right to keep healthy. So…So eat up so you can be at school on Monday. It sucks when you’re not there.”
You smile softly at Kagami, then lean over to give him a peck on the cheek. “You said you never get sick right?” You tell him when he looked at you. His cheeks still pink, but not much pinker than before.
You eat your soup and gush constantly over how tasty it was. Kagami seemed super proud. Cooking and basketball were the two skills he was most proud of, and knowing that you liked something he made made him puff out his chest even more.
After your soup he made you a bowl of ice cream you were also 90% sure you did not have in your house before now and watched a movie.
After that, Kagami said he was going to head home but when he stood up from the couch you hand lanced out and grabbed onto his shirt tail on it’s on. “Could…Could you stay?” You’ll blame the weak sounding tone of your voice on your cold later. “I know I told my mom that I’d be fine on my own but….I really don’t want to be alone.”
The red headed ace blinked, seeming surprised by your confession (that you were also totally going to blame on your cold later). He gave you a soft smile and sat back down on the couch. Pulling you into his arms so you were practically in his lap. “You could have just told me that.”
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samstree · 3 years ago
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Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)
In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?
(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)
part 1, part 2, read on AO3
The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.
He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.
Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.
It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.
The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.
Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.
Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.
The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.
Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.
Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…
“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”
A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.
“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”
“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.
“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”
The implication hangs in the air.
Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.
As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.
“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”
“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”
In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.
 *
The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.
Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.
Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.
Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.
Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.
He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—
A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.
And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.
And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.
Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.
Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.
Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.
“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”
“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.
“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”
Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.
“You sent these to Essi last winter.”
Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.
“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”
“You damn well didn’t.”
The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.
“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”
Neither did I.
“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”
“She is.”
I was.
“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”
“Jaskier…”
Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.
Jaskier might just be the death of him.
“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.
“I won’t. I swear.”
Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.
And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.
“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.
“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”
“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”
“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”
Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.
“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”
“We? You are staying?”
“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”
And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.
“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.
“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”
“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.
Don’t scare me like this again.
Don’t get taken from me.
Don’t leave me.
“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.
The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.
No. Definitely not.
 *
“Little Simon asleep?”
Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.
“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”
“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”
The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.
“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”
Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.
Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.
“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”
“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”
The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.
Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.
The bard is rubbing off on him.
“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”
“We can go even now.”
The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.
“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”
Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.
“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”
“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.
“…hmm?”
“Nothing. Maybe for later.”
Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.
This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.
Maybe he should.
And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.
Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.
The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.
And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.
--
I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way!  <3
Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette
Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3
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bellajackson200 · 2 years ago
Text
Pocket Boy. The bug in the belly. Edition
It was early in the morning. around 6 am. A saturday morning. This was my 3rd time during the night to get up to go pee. I'd made the mistake of drinking a cup of tea an our before bedtime.
This time around, i noticed rustling and tiny moans from my boys shoebox bed. I peeked into the box. The room had a dawny atmosphere and i could see the boys face faintly. His eyes were closed and he was quietly and calmly breathing through his tiny open mouth. "hm, must have been my imagination" i thought to myself.
As i was about to crawl back into my warm, cosy bed, i heard a faint moan again. I peeked into the box again and this time i saw the little boy had rolled over on his side. His eyes were slightly open, looking into the wall of the box. He smacked his tiny lips. He stuck his little toungue out as if he was trying to burp. Then he scrunched his face up with a tiny moan.
The little cutie didn't know i was watching him. He let out a tiny, pathetic "mmm" while moving his arm around under the covers. he swallowed a couple times and closed his eyes. The tiny boy started to breathe in a heavy, slow, rythmic way. He'd fallen back to sleep.
I crawled back into bed but i couldn't really sleep so i got my tablet and started playing a game. Not much time had passed when i heard moaning and rustling from the tiny boy again. I looked over at the box. A little sleepy, flushed face with messy morning hair, was looking back at me. As soon as the tiny boy saw me his little mouth started to quiver and his arms reached out for me. "oh sweetie" I said with a pityful expression while lifting him gently out of the box.
The poor boy was so warm and clammy but he was shivering so hard. little teeth clacking. His pj was soaked. I sat the shivering boy down on my cover and peeled his sweat soaked pj off. I lifted my cover and placed the boy on my warm skin. His little, naked, flushed body curled up on my upper belly. he was shivering so hard and he was so warm to the touch. There was no doubt. He had a fever.
The tiny boy gave out shivering moans. I could feel his entire body shake on my belly. I sheltered his little body with my hand, Try to give him warmth but my efford seemed to make matter worse. as if my hand was a block of ice. I put my cover back over me and the boy. I could hear tiny muffled moans. His body was still shivering.
Suddenly he moved around and crawled up towards my neck where he appeared from under the covers. he crawled out and lay on top of my cover. he wasn't shivering anymore but seemed to be overheated. His hair was soaked and a layer of glossy sweat was covering his little body. I ran my finger over his little pink body. He sighed.
The little boy pulled both legs up to his chin. One hand sandwiched between his belly and his thighs. With a scrunched up face, he gave out a moan of discomfort.
I sat up further, scooped up the poor boy and cuddled him between my hand and my chest. His little body tensed up as a bubbling growl came from his upset stomach.
The tiny boy placed a hand on his belly and moaned. He smacked his little lips and looked up at me with sad puppy eyes. I caressed his flushed face with my finger. He vocally sighed and curled up around his sick belly. He stuck his little pink tongue out and burped, then swallowed a couple of times. He was still warm to the touch. radiating heat off of his tiny body.
I grabbed the glass of water i had on my nightstand. Dipped a finger in it and gently wet the boys little lips. He licked my finger with his tiny pink tongue. I dipped my finger in the water again and wet his lips. He licked my finger again and swallowed the waterdroplet. I did this a few more times to make sure the boy got some fluid in him.
The boy was about to doze off on my chest when his belly gave out a growl. His little hand flew to his mouth and he bolted to a sitting position. He almost fell backwards as he was very dizzy and hazy but my hand caught his little body. His hand was still covering his mouth as if he was trying to hold the sick back. His other hand was firmly clutching his stomach.
His stomach contracted, he burped and clear water came running out between his fingers. he removed his hand from his mouth and shook it just as another contraction sent up another wave of water with a raspy sound. The tiny boy started crying. I ran my finger up and down his little warm back. His pink toungue shut out with another raspy burp. This time nothing came up. I wiped the boy and myself clean of the sick water with a tissue and layed back with the tiny boy cuddling on my chest.
I was running my hand up and down his body, trying to comfort him. He was still so warm but he preferred to stay under my covers.
Suddenly, he moaned loudly and crawled out from his sheltering hide-out. He looked at me with desperation but was forced to his knees by a rolling belly growl where he hunched over in pain. His arm swung backwards. he placed a hand over his tiny anus and whimpered.
I quickly grabbed another piece of tissue and pressed it against the tiny boys pointy bottom. he removed his hand and placed both on his little sick belly. I placed a tissue in front of him as well, just in case. I ran my finger in circles on his back and butt cheeks. He started to shiver again. The poor boy whined with a bellyache.
He moaned as his belly contracted. The boy got sick from both ends simultaneously. He was so miserable. His little butt was peeing in sputtering waves into the tissue. His sick belly was growling and hurting him so much. His upset stomach was churning so bad it made the poor boy vomit again.
He just sat there, hunched over, sobbing, crying. No control over his bodily fluids.
After a while, he weakly rolled over on his side. He was so sick. He must have caugt a stomach bug. The poor thing.
I lifted his tiny leg and wiped his soiled butt with wetted tissue. I forced him to lick a couple of water droplets off of my finger. I cuddled my sick cutie into my chest where he curled up and whimpered. He was curled up around my thumb, suckling on the tip as i caressed his sick, little body.
The poor boy had the bug for about 4 days. I would feed him very little food, such as graded apple and yoghurt and as much water as i could force him to drink. Some of the food stayed in him, some came out both ends immediately afterwards. he lost a lot of weight off of his already thin body.
I couldn't leave his side for one second during his illness. He needed me there and he would start to cry and reach for me if i got up for any activity and i had better be there when he woke up from one of his short, feverish naps. He would scream in panic if he woke up alone. I carried him around on my arm, wrapped in a small blanket, mak8ng him feel safe and warm.
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the-fiction-witch · 4 years ago
Text
Morning
MOVIE NOWHERE BOY
COUPLE PAUL X READER
RATING SMUT!!!!
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I stood looking out the window seeing the dew across the grass and the clouds in the sky, the sky that strange colour before the sun rose but enough light that you could see. A little condensation on the inside of the window the little white paint slowly breaking off in little ways on the windowsill. My little box of guitar picks sat on one side on the other a small plant pot no bigger then tea cup with some dark dirt and a little yellow flower.
"Ummm paul. What are you doing up so early?" I heard her sweet voice smile her voice groggy and tried but still bubbly and sweet
"I can't sleep. I didn't mean to wake you" I told her turning away from the window closing the red curtains seeing the little room I had learnt to call my home.
I moved out of my dad's house he wanted to move away from the old place anyways, so I had got a little flat well I say flat it was a house someone divided up, I had the Downstairs and someone else lived upstairs I didn't know I rarely saw them honestly. My bedroom was nothing to shout about I had a double bed with soft white and red covers, a bedside table with a glass of water, the wardrobe built Into the wall, a chest of draws with my mirror, my comb and a few odds and ends scattered across the top a few boxers and socks leaking out the draws. But most importantly the most beautiful thing in my room...
Y/n, my sweet girlfriend. Laid in my bed wrapped up in the covers her sweet y/h/c hair matted and messy from tossing and turning in her sleep relaxed and loose from her usual sculpted curls. Her make up gone leaving her beautiful skin, pale lips and dark circles under her eyes. Her body was wrapped up so tight where she must have been cold, she saw me looking and sat up having a little strech keeping the covers around her waist as she wore only my white shirt that I usually had under my button downs using it as her nightie it falling slightly off her shoulder revealing bare skin from her Arm, shoulder and chest.
"You didn't, good morning" she cooed
"Good morning, what are you doing up so early?' I asked her going over and sitting on my bed hearing the springs creak as I did
"I missed you" she shurgs her shoulders playfully moving her head to one side with that adorable little smile "I got all lonesome without you" she giggled putting her knees up to her chest
"I'm sorry beautiful, I couldn't sleep is all. I didn't wanna bother you"
"It's okay, what are you thinking about?' she smiled moving down the bed and giving my nose a kiss "what's going on it that head"
"Just thinking"
"Your always thinking paul. You don't ever stop." She giggled "what are you thinking about?" She asks going back to lean against my headboard
"How beautiful you look in my bed."
"Awww your too sweet" she blushed
"You do. You really do y/n. I wish you could sleep in my bed every night"
"I'd like that too, maybe soon we could... Snuggle up every night and every morning" she giggled
"You- you'd really want to?"
"Of course I would, I love staying at yours" she giggled
"I love when you stay over too" I smiled giving her lips a little kiss "but if you want to then... I'd be happy for you to"
"Really?"
"Of course, y/n you stay here atleast four nights a week as it is. If you wanted to move in you'd be more than welcome" I smiled
"I'll think about it Mr" she giggled getting out of bed and giving my cheek a kiss she intentionally wiggled her butt as she walked my shirt barely concealing her from my eyes as she walked across the room and out the door to the rest of the apartment, I smiled looking at the mess she had made of my bed the pillows out of place, the covers a mess but I smiled you could almost see the indent in the old mattress where she always sleeps on this side when she wondered back she handed me a cup of tea and she sat back in bed with her own cup "what's the plan today?"
"I need a shower. Then tidy up, john's coming over got some stuff he needs to show me" I told her having a sip of tea
"Ummm" she hummed her fingers wrapped some delicately around the cup
"What's the ummm for?"
"That means we don't have time for cuddles this morning" she whined pulling a sad face at me
"You had cuddles. All night"
"But I'd like some more" she whines putting her tea down and opening her arms I smiled putting mine down to and giving her a hug she bundled up closely as snug as a bug with me I smiled and gave her a kiss before getting up leaving her all sad again
"I'm sorry beautiful, but I need my shower" I told her going to my draws getting some clothes for the day today
"Paul" she cooed making me turn to see her sat against the headboard my shirt hung low, the covers away from her, her knees pulled to her chest she smiled playfully at me with blush in her cheeks as she licked her lips looking at me and she opened her legs wide, my shirt doing nothing to conceal her, I couldn't help staring at her plump lips, her already engorged clit, her glistening pussy, her cute butt perched on my matress, I bit my lip hard feeling my shorts tighten just looking at her like that
"Ooh. I see." I smirked making sure my curtains where closed shutting the door to the rest of the apartment, I took a single specifically I put a spell on you. I know what that song does to her from the side throwing the paper on the dresser setting it on to spin and smirking crawling over ever with her "hummm my beautiful girl horny?" I whispered in her ear hearing the first beats of the song kick up she didn't even answer she just grabbed my face and pulled me to kiss her, I smirked kissing back adding a little tongue into the hot and heavy kiss till I pulled back winking at her before kissing down her jaw, then down her neck, down her chest feeling her breasts against me concealed by the shirt, I smirked wrapping my arms around her thighs licking her sweet pussy, kissing her clit and burying my head between her legs listening to her squeal playing with my hair oftentimes tugging or pushing when she wanted more, I licked and sucked and sometimes even gently nibbled on all her most sensitive of places I knew from years of dating, filled by her hormonal gasps and moans, I kept going becoming rather mercilous on her feeling her legs shaking as she got closer and closer to
"AAAAHHHHH! UUuughhhh! Paul!!! Uuuuuuughhh!" She sqeauled at the top of her lungs I smirked sitting up wiping my mouth with the back of my hand looking at her as she gasps calming down, in her own little wet patch from her squirt. I smirked down at her feeling myself throb for her, I pushed my shorts down revealing my hard erection she caught eyes on it immediately and blushed a little I smirked glancing down at myself and then back to her it was milliseconds but she knew what I wanted she smiled taking a gulp of the water on the side table before crawling down the bed and kissing her wet kisses all over my shaft
"Fuck beautiful-" I gasped feeling those soft kisses "y/n please!" I groaned struggling to watch those perfect lips kissing my cock she smiled up at me innocently and evily, before taking me completely in her mouth "uughhhh! Oohh god! Fuck! Y/n!" I moaned grabbing her hair my head thrown back in pleasure feeling her licks and sucks, moving her head back and forth, from base to tip. I pushed her back leaving her laid giggling at me I smirked pouncing on her and kissing those evil lips I knew I could taste myself on her lips and she could likely taste herself on my own but I didn't care I pulled back grabbing her hips and pushing her to lay on her stomach she giggled and did as I asked sitting her knees up, I moved and instantly slipped inside "fuck!! Y/n! Uuuuhhhhh!" I groaned not wasting a single second moving as fast, as hard, as deep as I possibly could listening to her scream all the while my hips working on there own going crazy just feeling his good she felt, the sounds of the bed creaking and sqeeking, our skin slapping together, get faster and faster "uuuuhhhhh uuuuhhhhh!! Y/n! Beautiful.... I'm gonna cum!" I groaned trying so hard not to loose it, I didn't need to last long I just wanna make her cum, one more time! She didn't respond still moaning and screaming for me, and I couldn't take it anymore I moved her slightly pulling her back against my chest so she now sat ontop of me reverse cowgirl as I sat on my knees I almost ripped my shirt off her leaving her naked moving her just as fast as I had been but my hands folding those sexy breasts making her screams get louder and louder feeling how much wetter she was getting as she was now practically dripping down my legs I moved one hand away from her breasts to mercilously rub on her clit making her grab my hair pulling me to kiss her neck "come on beautiful, cum for me" I smirked in her ear and that very second she screamed like banshee, I kept rubbing and kept bouncing her letting her ride it out even if I knew I and my bed were now soaked from her squirt I knew I was so close so I threw her back down and continued pounding fast and hard for a few more seconds before I felt that pleasure wave hit me and I instantly pulled out and came all over her back and butt before collapsing on my side of the bed in my back gasping for breath still getting over my orgasum. "Fuck I love you y/n"
"I love you too paul" she smiled gasping too as she just laid there on her stomach
"Now, I need to get pants on john will be here in like ten minutes" I laughed getting up slowly "you should also put clothes on" I told her as I got some boxes on and my jeans getting a clean undershirt
"Meh... John will understand that you fucked your girlfriend too good for her to move" she giggled
"Did I now?" I smirked going over and slipping two fingers inside her finger fucking her hard rubbing in her clit making her sqeaul kicking her feet
"Nooooo leave me alone, evil boy!" She whines kicking my hand away "I'll put clothes on" she sighed climbing out of bed "meanie" she whines bending over naked at her suitcase looking for clothes waving her butt at me and sticking her tongue out I put my shirt on going over and slapping her butt making her jump up into my arms
"Dirty tongue" I smirked
"It's not dirty" she whines
"Yes it is. I know where it's been beautiful" I smirked giving her a kiss "you get dressed, I'll tidy up. I'll make another tea when John gets here" I told her taking the cups and going out to the little flat setting the cups on the kitchen side by the burner, generally tidying the house up as y/n for dressed in the bedroom I saw her perched on the bed using my mirror to do her hair and make up just as I heard the door so I went and let John in "morning" I said giving him a faint smile fixing my hair as I did
"Morning" he laughs putting his guitar case on the side by the chair
"Tea?"
"Yeah go on then" he says so I went to the kitchen filling up the kettle and making the cups up he came and stood on the other side of the little counters that seperated the living room and kitchen looking at the cups and he smirked "hi y/n" he called to the bedroom
"Hi John, out inna minute" she called back
"I had a feeling she was here"
"How so?" I asked waiting for the kettle to boil
"She's always here" he laughs
"True."
"That and you need an air freshener"
"What why?" I asked rather confused
"Because paul it fucking stinks if sex in this flat"
"What does sex smell like?"
"Like jizz, sweat and squirt usually" he laughs
"That's not the flat, that's just paul" y/n smiled coming around the corner in her little black dress her hair done and makeup prestige "he didn't shower this morning"
"Hey!"
"It's true" she shurgs
"Nope it's the flat, or you two. Or both" john laughed as I made the tea up "you two have sex this morning then?"
"Yep" she giggled
"How could you tell? The house smell?" I asked
"that and I was here earlier, I waited outside having a cig and I could hear you two screaming"
"You know a weird amount about our sex lives" I told him sipping my tea
"I imagine so do you twos neighbors seriously... I can hear you from down the street" he laughs
"We just like being loud and passionate don't we paul" she giggled cuddling me
"How can I be quiet with my beautiful girl doing such dirty things to me" I smirked kissing her
"It's fine... Just rub in even more that I'm single" john sighed
"Sorry" she giggled
"It's fine, you two are adorable" he sighed.
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buglife · 4 years ago
Note
21 for Dadmaster Mato and Ghost :)
“What did you do this time?”
(Again no beta reader, sorry for any errors!)
The wind blew as harsh as they ever did, carrying the faint whistling sounds from far off places as it ruffled the cloth in the door way. Mato had since learned to listen to the wind since he made his home so far off in the Howling Cliffs. The wind carried so much that could be read if you knew how to do so. So it was there he sat, a small fire before him warming up some water for tea, in his typical position of meditation.  The fire and the wind tended to help his mind focus on what is important, but to also provide noise he can sink into and let his mind drift.
He thought about his child, mostly. It has been a while since they visited and even though he knew they were capable, he still couldn’t help but worry. Sly had told him similar, the last time they were able to speak. No matter how capable someone is, to be loved is to be worried about, plain and simple. So, he tried to cast his mind outward to listen to the wind and see what news it brought.
The wind had picked up in its howling, blowing the sound of scattering pebbles and the sharp slice of the nail cutting through. A thin scraping noise and the shrieks of lesser beasts told him that something was coming. Indeed, after some moments of listening, came the soft limping patter of tiny feet and the sharp dragging of metal just outside his dwelling. Mato opened his eyes long enough to see the inner cloth door waggle, before a figured messily fell through to land with a wet splat on the floor. Their small shining nail clattered a few inches away before stopping
The figure was familiar and Mato found himself climbing to his feet in record time at the sight. “Ghost!”
Said Ghost was face down on the floor. Their mask had cracked and their cloak was littered in burns and splashes of orange. A thin puddle of black dribbled out around them, no doubt hiding other wounds. Motes of black drifted from the visible cracks in their head as they shook, trying once again to get up.
They didn’t need to do anything, as Mato had already gathered up the small child, his child, in his arms. He felt them use an arm, the other seemed fit to just dangle, and patted his mask. He had learned to tell by the tilting of their head, the slight angle of their eye holes, and the way they relaxed on being held, that they were smiling at him. They were obviously glad to see him, just like any other time since the first when they walked into his humble home. But he could also feel their exhaustion, how they were struggling to breathe and not shiver too hard. Each expanse of their sides was a hard won battle and one he was deathly afraid of them loosing.
“Ghost, my dear little child…” Mato heard himself say. He snuggled the small form of the little warrior close. “What did you do this time?”
He knew of course, that his child, his student, was mute. They could write and knew some sign language, which was something he thankfully knew. Sly was insistent on all three brothers to know it, as a language that was completely silent was the best way to communicate deep within enemy territory. He watched as they patted his face once more, before messily attempting to sign with one hand.
<“Trouble.”>
“Trouble, you say?” He was already moving, kicking a switch near the door to drop down a heavy wooden wall, something to keep out said ‘trouble’ and the howling wind. The room instantly became warmer and quiet after the initial clang of falling shellwood. “Trouble you found, or trouble that found you?”
<”Both.”>
“Nevermind, my child. I will ask questions later. Right now you need help and I fully intend to give it to you.” It was getting harder for Mato to ignore the frigid feeling of void as it started to soak into the cracks between his armor and into the cloth below. Oh, his poor little child must be in a lot of pain, but besides the shivering, an outsider would never be able to tell.
But he had started to learn all about his child and was beginning to read them without words being needed. And he knew, here and now, that he needed to work quickly. Ghost had learned far into their past to hide pain and discomfort, something yes, that would help out in the field. But they didn’t need to hide their pain from him. It was something he was slowly working with them, but it takes a lot more than a few bare weeks to undue years of trauma and hardship.
Ghost patted him again, and then tucked their arm around his neck in a bid to stay upright in his arms. He at first wanted to put them down to gather up his supplies, but decided it was best to keep contact as long as possible. Ghost has learned to gain comfort from his embrace and if they felt like it was helping here, he will allow them to do so as long as it could be possible.
So Mato held them in one arm, letting them snuggle and bleed into the warm, fluffy ruff of his cape. With them comforted and warm, he could gather what he needed. The hot water now perfect for tea was dragged away from the fire and poured into a basin. Strips of cloth, a vial of glowing blue liquid, and a jar of paste assembled neatly in front of a pile of pillows in front of the fire.
“I’m sorry my child, I’m going to have to put you down for now to treat you.” He was careful to tell Ghost what he indented to do. It seemed to keep them calmer and helped them get used to the idea that they were deserving of help. Another thing that is taking time to work on.
He briefly held back his rage and his grief when he remembered the time Ghost opened up to him. He had watched as they wrote neatly on paper to tell him of their father, the Pale King. How they had been forced to climb out of the abyss on a carpet of their dead siblings. Watching more still fall as they attempted the harsh climb upward, hearing their little shells crack and splinter on the rocks below. Only to get to the top and watch their sibling be taken away and then sealed away to be forgotten. How they fell down and down and down and it was at this time Ghost had broken into tears and Mato had hugged them for hours. It was then he had told them that a mark of a true father was ones who were brimming with love and care and if they would like it, he could be their father. Not the loathsome pitiful creature who was once their king, that was no father.
He was surprised and honored when Ghost had hugged back harder and signed ‘yes’.
It was then he knew this was the first time Ghost had ever felt true love and caring from any other bug.
Mato set Ghost down on the pillows and made sure they were comfortable. “Now, don’t wiggle too much, and I will fix you some hot cocoa later.” Ghost had perked up at the sound of ‘hot cocoa’, the little vessel had a sweet tooth that was worse than Oro’s. They tried to stay still despite their shivering and Mato was not going to hold that against them as he worked quickly.
A wipe down with the hot water cleaned them off enough to see what he needed to work with. The gashes and burns in their carapace was quickly coated in a layer of lifeblood and bandaged up with clean cloth. The cracks in their mask was filled with shell paste and also wrapped to keep the edges as close together as possible. He had did his best to clean their cloak. Their cloak was strange and he suspected it was actually alive, perhaps underdeveloped wings? He wasn’t sure but he did his best to wipe it clean. Once cleaned and all bandaged up, Mato wrapped his little Ghost in the fluffiest blanket he could find, moving the entire bundle to his own bed.
Now that he was treated, Ghost looked more tired than they did pained, which gladdened him. He arranged them on the softer part of the bed.
“Now, do you think you can remain awake long enough for your much deserved cocoa?” He smiled as they gingerly nodded their head. They sat up a little straighter and made ‘gimmie’ motions with their hands. One still seemed weaker than the other, but that should do better after some rest.
Not wanting to keep Ghost waiting, Mato made a mug of cocoa as quickly as he could, adding a few teaspoons of honey to the mix. Not only did Ghost absolutely love honey, it was also a boon for healing. Mato added an extra tea spoon for that very reason and carried it out. After helping the vessel drink it, he tucked them in and added even more pillows.
“I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me a little longer.” He couldn’t help but grin again. “I hope you won’t mind a day or two of bedrest.”
Ghost shook their head sluggishly, the warm drink and the various medicines started to drag them out of the waking world. They lazily signed with one hand, the other snug under the pillows.
<“Training?”>
“If you’d like to learn some new techniques, I would be more than happy to teach you. AFTER, I deem you fit for it, and not a moment sooner!” He reached down to gently pat the space between their horns. They sighed and melted into the touch, snuggling further into the warmth.
He thinks they attempted to sign something, but the meaning was lost as they went limp in comfort. He merely took the small hand and tucked it back under the covers.
“Goodnight, my child.” He whispered softly, pulling up the covers to just under their eye holes. They were asleep, and the soft rise and fall of the covers reassured him that they were alive and on the mend. “I love you.”
If they heard that last part of not, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that they finally, in the first time in their life, they could expect to feel it.
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ibis-gt · 4 years ago
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Hahaa... But what if 👀 7?✨
- Tea
goin with my gorls bianca (she/her) and julie (she/they) for this one!!
******
Julie raced down the street in the pouring rain, desperately trying to get back home before she was too thoroughly soaked. It was too late for that, of course. So many raindrops had already struck her tiny form that her hair was plastered to her face. She finally reached the alleyway where she’d set up her meager lodgings and ducked into the cardboard box lying on its side that she called home. Rain pattered on the roof in wet thuds. She huddled up against one wall, curling into a little ball, trying to keep herself warm. It was no good. She shivered in the cold and damp. The floor was starting to absorb the water flowing across the concrete. Pretty soon this box would be nothing more than some soggy chunks, and she’d have to find a new place to live.
She thudded her head against the wall and sighed. This was just unbearable. She needed to get over her fear and pick a human’s house to live in already. But glue traps and cats appeared every time she closed her eyes, and the sound of loud thudding steps filled her ears even in the quietest moments, terrifying her.
Wait… those steps weren’t in her imagination. They were coming down the sidewalk towards her. She dared to sneak a peek around the edge of the box just as a pair of bright pink sneakers trudged past. Julie darted back inside, slamming her back against the wall and trying to slow her breathing, hoping it would calm her racing heart. The footsteps had stopped, rather than continuing on and fading into the distance. Had she been spotted? It couldn’t be. She risked another glance.
A human was standing in the pouring rain, holding her arms out to either side and her face up to the sky. She was tall, even for a human, wearing shiny black yoga pants that ended at the knee and a loose pink tank top under a green jacket. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. As Julie watched, she turned around slowly and laughed, seeming to delight in the rain.
“Look at her, just standing there… being all tall and stupid,” Julie muttered to themself, the rain and the human’s laughter covering their voice. “Humans. Don’t know how good they got it.” Although to be honest it looked like this one did know. She looked like she lived every moment to the fullest. That only made it worse.
Intense jealousy and frustration filled Julie. On an impulse, they snatched up a piece of rubble from a crack in the concrete and tossed it at the human with all their might. It bounced harmlessly off her shin. She looked down and spotted Julie.
“Oh! Hi there.” The human’s voice was as bright and bubbly as the rest of her. Julie squeaked in fear and ducked back inside the cardboard box, their heart pounding once again. It was certainly getting a workout today. 
“Aw, I didn’t mean to scare you. You okay in there?” A hand planted itself on the concrete outside. Julie could see the perfect pink nail polish on each fingernail. They whimpered. The hand was followed by the human’s face, slowly leaning in sideways. “There you are! Hi! Are you stuck out here in the rain? Trying to get somewhere? I can carry you if you want. Must be awful to be all cold and wet, especially at your size.”
Julie sized the human up suspiciously. Most humans considered Borrowers to be annoying pests. It was rare to find one who wouldn’t scream and try to hit you with a broom.
“Uh… no, I’m just… I live here,” Julie said. “That’s okay.”
“Oh, no, you live here?” The human’s eyes darted around the inside of the box. “There’s not even, like, a bed or anything! You must be freezing at night! C’mon, let me get you somewhere warm and dry.” The human laid a hand out palm up and wiggled her fingers at Julie. “I got hot chocolate back at my plaaace,” she said in a singsong voice.
Julie stared. There was nothing stopping the human from just snatching her up and carrying her off. If she was offering Julie a choice…
Still suspicious, but planning to bail if things looked like they were going south, Julie cautiously inched towards the outstretched hand. She paused just as she reached it, staring up at the human’s eyes, trying to gauge her intentions. She got a hundred-watt smile in return. Up close, she could see the human had huge blue-green eyes, tastefully accented with a swoop of eyeliner. Her painted pink lips parted to reveal pearly white teeth. Everything about her was so frustratingly perfect. It had to be a front. But… hot chocolate… Julie finally worked up their nerve and settled themself in the palm of the human’s hand.
“Okay, hold on tight!” The human straightened up, and Julie’s stomach dropped as they were lifted high, high up in the air. They bit back a whimper and their claws dug into the human’s palm, but if it hurt her she gave no indication. She held her other hand over Julie’s head, and for one horrifying second Julie thought she was going to clap her hands together and crush them like a bug. Then they realized she was just shielding them from the rain as she strode quickly down the street. They relaxed infinitesimally. Maybe this would be okay.
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amintyworld · 4 years ago
Text
Secrets - Dream SMP Drabble
WATERFALL (Part one)    SUNSET (Part two)
A/N: Part 3 is finally here! So, bit of a update - this is indeed NOT the final part as I had planned, since there’s so much I want to cover about my own little backstory about two these two lovebirds, including how they get to the SMP. So, more parts to come, be on the lookout! Also, if you haven’t already, links to the two other parts should be above, please check them out if you’d like! Anyway, as always, enjoy!
TW: Arguing, secrets, surprise pregnancy, miscommunication, vomiting, cursing, roughhousing, injury (Not vv bloody tho). (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)
---------------------------
“Alright boys, get down here, breakfast is ready!” Philza heard scampering and thudding footsteps on the stairs as both Tommy and Tubbo raced to the table, smiling and laughing all the way. Wilbur walked down next, the only one out of their pajamas as he sat with his notebook in front of him, scribbling ideas, notes, and lyrics. Technoblade was last, not exactly the morning person of the group, as he passed by his two younger siblings and ruffed their hair lovingly before sitting down with a yawn. Phil quickly set eggs in front of each of them, a warm loaf of bread at the center the baker delivered early in the morning. Techno murmured a sleepy ‘thanks’ as Philza set down a cup of coffee with his plate, and Wilbur got up to grab some orange juice for him and Tubbo, leaving it out so Tommy could pour his own as he insisted.
It was a nice feeling in the mornings with his boys, sitting and eating a nice breakfast as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Philza mused over just how much changed over the last few years - they adopted Tubbo, Technoblade and Wilbur were becoming adults - but yet, things still felt the same. The little family was silent as they ate, enjoying each other’s company as the world began to wake up just outside their windows.
Tubbo, to Philza’s relief, was not as chaotic as the rest of his siblings and was all around a responsible and kind soul - at least when he was alone. When Philza walked inside to Tommy and Tubbo covered head to toe in bee stings due to ‘showing dominance over the bees so they’ll be our pets’, he learned quickly that the two younger brothers together would spur on all kinds of trouble. Luckily, he was used to it from the elder two when they were around Tommy and Tubbo’s age. Philza chuckled remembering when Techno and Wilbur tried to corner that parrot to only run home with nothing but a bunch of scratches, bruises, and covered in feathers - he’d snapped a picture before they both cleaned up, both pink from embarrassment.
“So, I’ll be off today checking in and fixing up the garden, going into town for a while, and then going fishing if I have the time. I should be home by around sunset, though.” Philza declared, taking a swig of his morning coffee.
“Me and Tubbo are gonna go find Mothman and catch a couple of pet bees,” Tommy said. As Philza opened his mouth to respond, Tubbo interrupted. 
“We’ll take our swords and be back by sunset.” Tubbo finished. “And we’ll make sure to follow the path and not get lost.” 
Philza chuckled. “Good.” He smiled. 
“Techno and I were gonna train for a bit - I think I’m getting close to beating him.” Wilbur said, and a loud ‘HA’ erupted from his older brother.
“You wish,” Techno smirked. “The day you beat me one on one is the day I give up eating potatoes.” The pig hybrid did love himself a baked potato, and Philza knew that all too well. Chatter spurred on amongst the family, and Philza just smiled, taking in the moment. 
-----------------------------------
“Jeez, is Techno some kind of mega pig demon?” Sally said, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her treehouse, across from Wilbur who looked a little worse for wear. “He went way too rough with you.”
“He didn’t mean to, he just got carried away.” Wilbur defended. “He felt really bad after, I kept telling him it was fine.” Wilbur let out a soft curse as the disinfectant soaked cloth ran over a particularly deep cut on his forehead, and Sally rubbed circles on the top of his hand in a loving gesture. 
“Wil, it’s not fine, you got really hurt.” Sally’s tone turned serious, and Wilbur intertwined their fingers together.
“You’re scared.”
“No shit I am!” Sally yelled angrily before she took a deep breath to calm herself, continuing.. “Wilbur, sure you’re fine now but what if you got worse, and he didn’t stop? What if you got really hurt?”
“I know, I didn’t mean to worry you.” Wilbur gently squeezed her hand. “I promise we’ll be more careful.” 
Sally placed a bandage on the cut on his forehead and planted a soft kiss on it. “Thank you.” Wilbur cracked a smirk as she faced him fully again. 
“How bad’s the damage?”
Sally smiled back. “Just some bruises and cuts, a few days of healing and you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, you still look handsome.”
“Good thing, too,” Wilbur said jokingly. “My face and my guitar’s all I got going for me.”
“Oh please, Beanie Boy.” Sally smiled as she moved to cuddle closer to him, and his arms wrapped around her until they were both comfortable against the wall, Sally’s head leaned against Wilbur’s chest, the girl all too careful in her movements to make sure she didn’t hurt her boyfriend’s many bruises. “Did you win, at least?”
“He called a draw,” Wilbur said. “But, I did manage to use that weapon snatching tactic you taught me.” He laughed a bit. “He totally freaked.”
“Good,” Sally chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep that pig on his toes.” Sally felt Wilbur shift a bit as he tensed. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just sore,” Wilbur said. “Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna regret most of the fight in the morning?” They both chuckled at the comment.
“I’m sorry, Do you want me to kiss it better?” Sally asked, looking up to her boyfriend in time to see a slight telltale pink on his cheeks. He nodded as Sally shifted to sit up more and began leaving some kisses along his arms wherever she saw a bruise, before leaning in to give him a soft peck on the lips where a small bruise was beginning to form.
“It’s almost sunset, I gotta get home or Phil will kill me,” Wilbur said, before tucking a long piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back tomorrow, though.”
“Good, someone’s gotta help me refill my stash of supplies,” Sally said, smirking. “I’m all out of beetroot for bruise cream, if you haven’t heard.”
“Will do, my salmon,” Wilbur said, getting up, grabbing his sword, bag, and beanie before heading to the entrance.
“Be careful heading back, you’re still healing.”
“Gosh, you sound like Phil.” Wilbur chided sarcastically before Sally gave him a look. “I’ll be careful, I swear.” Wilbur pulled Sally in for a close embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I love you, my salmon.”
“Love you, Wilby.” At the rarely used nickname, Wilbur’s heart melted as he muttered a simple ‘bye’ and climbed down the ladder.
------------------------------------------------
Sally didn’t understand what was going on, and she was mostly kind of scared. Standing over a bucket and puking as the sun rose up was not exactly a great sign. Neither was the weird soreness. Maybe she had some kind of flu or something? Either way, one thing was for sure - she didn’t like this, at all. Being a survivor and runner for years on end, she prided herself for being pretty healthy and knowing a lot of good healing tips and tricks to not slow herself down. Now, she felt ashamed. Weak.
She hoped it was just the flu. Grimacing, she swallowed the medicine and took some water and a snack on her way out - She didn’t want to be late for work. Her hair was a bit of a mess and she chewed a bit of mint to disguise the bad breath she gained from this morning. She felt awful but pushed the feeling aside. It must just be a bug or something, had to be.
When she was old enough, she started looking for a job in town to get some money and not have to worry about hunting every night. Sure, Phil always had a spot for her at the table, but even Sally knew how much he was stretched to the limit feeding five. Luckily, she found a pretty cushiony job at the trade center - where she and a handful of others settled disputes over what was a fair trade and what wasn’t. 
As she worked she headed to steady herself every now and then when she felt sick or lightheaded. It just got worse as the days went on, and it got too much for her to ignore. She left early on sick leave and made a quick stop at the library before heading home, determined to figure out what was going on with her and fix it in whatever way possible. She settled in bed with some hot tea and opened the book: ‘Easy to Spot Ailments Hidden in Plain Sight’. At this point, she was fed up feeling horrible and just wanted it to end. Her head ached, her stomach churned with any bit of food she tried to get down. Her shaking hands flipped through the pages as she looked for what matched her list of symptoms in her head - Nausea, light-headedness, fatigue…
‘Pregnancy, in the early stages, is common to have morning sickness, fatigue, tender or sore muscles…’
Her eyes widened at the thought… pregnant…? She scanned the page intently and as it were - most of her symptoms she’d been suffering the past few weeks were right there. Her mind whirred with the thought of the possibility. Wilbur was still trying to find a job in town, and they haven’t even gotten their own space yet - they definitely were not ready. The shapeshifter’s thoughts turned to Wil - if it was really the case, how would he react? Maybe he’ll be done with her for good because of it, they took precautions but not enough, she didn’t do enough to stop herself from getting into this position. Wilbur wouldn’t be ready yet, she isn’t either - maybe he’ll ditch her for his own survival. 
She wouldn’t blame him. 
It took her a few moments to realize she was crying. Her head was clouded with so many doubts, fears and what ifs she didn’t even notice. She wiped her tears away. She needed to keep a clear head, she needed to stay calm. Maybe she wasn’t even pregnant, she had to check with the town healer to make sure. There was probably nothing to worry about anyway, and she’d have gotten so worked up over nothing!
Now, looking over the positive pregnancy test in the healer’s hut, all she could think was: ‘Shit.’
------------------------------------------
Wilbur strummed a bit on his guitar as he sat cross-legged in his bed, Sally snuggled up in blankets next to him, humming constantly. “Have you been writing, Wil?”
“A bit.” Wilbur smiled. “Nothing concrete yet, I’m afraid.” Sally pouted slightly, her lower lip out just so, dramatic enough to make both of them laugh. “Sorry to disappoint, my number one fan. Maybe I could make it up by playing a song request…?”
“Love your songs, Wilby.” Sally said as she nuzzled to his side and he smiled.
“I know, my salmon.” Wilbur crooned as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Now, what song do you wanna hear?”
“Hm… what about the pretty soft one?”
“You never remember the names, do you?” Wilbur joked as he checked and tuned up the instrument. Sally laughed.
“Never.” Sally said. “Luckily I don’t have to.” Wilbur began to strum a soft tune as he sang softly with the music, and Sally drank it all in with a smile, her heart feeling full.
“You and I
We’re different but somehow we fit.
And I promise you
No matter what, I’ll never quit.
Because you are the good days,
The tough days,
When I feel like I can’t breathe,
I love you, I hope you like me.”
Sally began to sing along as well, and when the song was done, Wilbur put his guitar down and cuddled Sally close. He wrapped his arms around her until she was completely comfortable and they both laid there, just content in each other’s arms. Though Wilbur could tell she was happy, he also could tell something else was up - she fidgeted every now and then, seemingly never comfortable. He knew her well enough to know when something was bothering her - the way her eyes focused too much on the blanket, lost in thought and her eyebrows furrowed were her telltale signs. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”
“Nothing’s on my mind, I’m just tired.”
“You’re fidgeting, you’re staring into space - did something happen at work?” Wilbur asked, concerned. “If anyone’s bothering you-”
“No, no. Nothing’s going on at work.” Sally said. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Wilbur asked, and he couldn’t help but notice her hesitation.
“Yes…” She said before she looked around the room a bit, her body fidgeting more violently. “Where’s the bathroom again…?”
“Just down the hall.” Wilbur grew concerned as he noticed her shaking body rush out of the room. Did… did he do something wrong…? He heard the door quickly slam, and he couldn’t help but replay the events in his head over and over. Did he make her uncomfortable? Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to cuddle her, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“You okay?” Wilbur looked up to see Philza standing in the doorway casually, looking a bit concerned. That’s when WIlbur noticed how hard he was gripping the blanket on the bed, staring off into space.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I dunno if she is, though.” Wilbur said.
“I heard the slam.” Philza stated. 
“Phil, how do you know if someone’s uncomfortable around you?” Wilbur asked, and Phil’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“I guess it depends on the person, sometimes you can tell by their body language... Why?”
“Sally’s been off, she’s not acting like herself. I’m worried about her, I know something’s causing her to be like this, and I dunno if it’s me.” Wilbur said honestly, and Philza’s face turned to a warm comforting smile.
“It’s not you, Wil. I know she loves you just as much as you love her.” Philza said, certain.
“If it’s not me…” WIlbur started. “Then what is it?”
“I don’t know, if I’m honest. But i wouldn’t worry too much over it, okay? I’m sure she’ll tell you what’s going on when she’s ready to.” Phil reassured him. As he told his son, he too tried to keep his worries at bay. He didn’t want to get in the middle of his son’s love life, but if something really bad was happening to the shapeshifter, Phil wanted to help.
-------------------------------------
Philza tried to stay calm as the girl broke down into tears over the two words that spilled over her lips. Part of him wanted to scream, to scold… they were both in their early twenties, but Phil still saw them as kids, kids who didn’t know what to do and were too young to be parents yet. He was mad at them for not being careful, he was upset that Sally felt the need to hide it, and most of all he felt scared for both of them. For the first time in his life, Phil couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t just pull out his sword and fight it all and make all the monsters and scary things go away, and it scared him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to process, before handing the crying girl a tissue, doing his best to calm her.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I… I felt so ashamed that I let this happen, I-” Sally’s voice shook. “If Wilbur knew, he’d probably leave, I-”
“Hey.” Phil’s voice was stern but soft. “You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this, it isn’t your fault, okay?” Sally looked to the floor. Phil rubbed her trembling shoulders as a few moments of silence passed between the two. Phil looked firm. “You’ve gotta tell him.”
“No… no I can’t…” Sally said, images flashing through her head of his disgusted face, glaring at her coldy, telling her that if she really cared and respected him, loved him, she would have been more careful, telling her that he wasn’t willing to get dragged down into her mess, so she’ll just have to deal with it.
“Sally, he’s gonna figure it out eventually. Would it be better if you told him, or if he figured out you kept it from him too late?” Philza said.
“He’s done so much for me, I don’t want to burden him with this. He doesn’t deserve to pay for my mistake.” Sally said softly.
“But it’s not your mistake, it’s not ‘your’ anything, you can’t blame yourself for this.”
“Then who can I blame, Phil? Why did this happen, then?!” Sally snapped. “What am I supposed to do now… what can I do now?!” Silence once again engulfed the room as Phil sat and slowly took the shapeshifter’s hands in his.
“You know, when I figured out I was going to be a Dad, I was so scared. I was 22 with no stable job, moving from place to place, living off the land, that’s no way to raise a family.” Philza said, staring into space as he spoke, recalling the memory. “I learned a lot, then - like some things happen without a reason… bad things, but also really good things. Amazing things. And, I know that even now, I’m still scared about it all, but I know you’ll both get through it together just fine. You care too much about each other to let anything get in the way of that.” His gentle expression met hers. “What you’re gonna do now, is you’re going to breathe, finish your cup of tea, and relax. Then when Wilbur comes back from getting the honey with Tommy and Tubbo, you’re gonna look him in the eyes and tell him, even if you’re scared. Because as much as you’re afraid of losing him, he’s afraid of losing you, too.”
Sally swallowed thickly, nodding. “Then what?”
“Then, we’ll figure everything out together, okay?” Phil took his own tea cup in his hands and sipped, looking out the window as the sun began to set. Sally, with shaking breaths, sipped her tea as well as the two sat in a comfortable silence. When the door opened and shouts erupted from the hallway, Phil gave Sally’s hand one final squeeze before getting up and taking their empty tea cups to the kitchen. 
--------------------------------------------
“Go. Take your mind off everything for a bit.” Philza had told him as he practically pushed him out the front door. “You can’t just be anxious, worried and cooped up in your room over a girl. Take a break.” When he tried to protest, Philza put his hand up, silencing him. “Besides, Techno’s too busy today to go with them, and someone’s gotta make sure they get home in one piece. Enjoy yourself and have fun, okay?”
Now, sitting under the cover of a bush, all three of them - Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo - looked over toward the bee’s nest. “Okay, what’s the plan here?” Tubbo asked, and Tommy smiled, a plan already forming in his mind.
“Okay, so you lure all the bees out with some flowers, while Wilbur and I get the honey. If it backfires..” Tommy hit his fist against his hand. “We’ll hit ‘em with Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B..?” WIlbur asked curiously.
“Well, it's a highly complicated-” Tubbo began.
“-and a simplistic plan that has always gotten us out of trouble so far.” Tommy said, which did not do much to help Wilbur’s new worries over Plan B.
Tubbo picked a huge pile of lilies and daisies and nervously walked closer while Tommy gave him a thumbs up from behind the bush. “You got this, Bee Whisperer!” He hashly said softly, while Wilbur looked over to him. 
“Are you sure this is safe?” WIlbur said, looking over at Tubbo, ready to tackle him to the ground if things went south. “I know bees like flowers, but I’m pretty sure they can tell the difference-”
“Oh yeah, Tubbo’s got this.” Tommy reassured him. “He’s the Bee Whisperer, after all.” A large glass jar landed with a ‘thunk’ on the soft grass. “You’ll hold the jar while I get the honey.”
“Do you even know how to get honey from the nest?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy looked confused.
“Yeah, you just stick your hand in, and-”
“No, nope, we’re not doing that.” WIlbur said. “You’re holding the jar, I’m getting the honey.” He looked over the bush, and to his surprise, the bees flew around Tubbo peacefully, landing on the flowers he held as Tubbo let out a weird buzzing noise from his mouth. Huh - the Bee Whisperer… cool. 
Tommy muttered angrily in protest as he hauled the jar over at his signal, and Wilbur picked up a stick and slowly began to put globs of honey in the jar.
“Is the reason I’m not doing it because of your women problems?”
“Shut up, Tommy-” Wilbur harshly said under his breath, trying to focus. “You’ll alert the bees.”
“Well excuse me for trying to distract myself, this thing’s heavy-”
“Shut up.” Wilbur muttered angrily. Sure, it was kind of harsh, but he was the one who was complaining. They were about halfway done filling the jar when  a few bees began to fly back to the nest, and Tubbo tried to call them back to no avail.
“I think it’s time for Plan B, Wil-”
“No, it’s just a few bees, Tommy…”
One bee in particular decided to land on Tommy’s nose, and that was it. “PLAN B!” He shouted as he capped the honey jar and gave it to Wilbur as he noticed all the bees begin to run back to the nest, sensing danger. Wilbur pushed him away from the nest. “Run!”
Well, Wilbur did not need to be told twice. He rushed away as Tubbo ran after him toward their hiding place in the bush. Tommy followed soon after, covered in honey and bee stings, his hands particularly sticky. Wilbur looked over to see the nest destroyed. He flicked Tommy’s forehead. “That was a terrible plan, you idiot!”
“Ow!” Tommy rubbed the spot a bit as it burned in pain. “Hey, it worked didn’t it? We’re all safe.”
“You can’t just punch away all your problems!” Wilbur shouted. “You could have gotten really hurt!”
“I’m sorry.” Tommy said quietly, looking bothered by his older brother’s tone. Wilbur sighed, his arms crossed. Though it was good to let his frustrations out, he shouldn’t have snapped at him - Tommy was far from the one who’d been aggravating him recently. Tubbo looked at the two, then to the jar.
“Well hey,” He said, smiling, trying to lighten the tense mood. “Look at how much honey we’ve got.” He moved the almost full jar in front to show off. “This has gotta be enough honey for the bee farm, Phil’s gonna be impressed - we make a pretty good team.” Tommy brightened a bit at his friend’s words, though still kind of hurt, and moved to take the jar from Tubbo.
“We should be heading back, the sun's almost down.” Tommy said as he stood, picked up the jar and walked off, Tubbo close behind, and then Wilbur at the back. 
Wilbur would be lying if he said the past few weeks had been easy - he tried his best to just stay calm, but every time without fail Sally would always rush away, or snap at him. If she was upset with him, he wished she’d just tell him instead of playing this stupid guessing game. He felt like he was walking on eggshells around her, and he hated it. He didn’t like all this secrecy, he didn’t like not being able to just talk with her the way they used to. He was upset and angry with Sally, he just wanted to know what’s going on, is that such a hard thing to ask?
He scoffed to himself - he was supposed to be keeping his mind off it, but he couldn’t even do that. He couldn’t even relax when things were so tense with her, how pathetic is that…?
“Wilbur?”
“...What?” He asked, snapped out of his thoughts by Tubbo, who pointed ahead.
“This is the right direction, right?”
“I’m not Techno, but… I think…” He looked around, scrambling for some familiar landmark. Tommy was in front, uncharacteristically quiet. Then, he spotted a rotten tree log, and it clicked in his mind where they were. “Yes, just a bit that way.” He moved toward the front, and Tommy kept his eyes forward. Feeling awkward, Wilbur touched the sft fabric of his beanie, taking in his hands and running his fingers over it, taking a breath before finally breaking the silence.
“Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
Tommy’s eyes were fixated on the jar for now. “You’ve been so off lately, and I just thought maybe if we dragged you on some crazy adventure, I’d get you back. But it still followed us, I don’t understand… is it me?”
“No, I… it isn’t, Tommy.” Wilbur said, focusing on the knitted stitches as he formed the words to say. “I’ve just been- Things with me and Sally have been... complicated, recently. Still, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“So, you really are having women problems.” Tommy’s tone was serious, an oddity for the usually joking teen. “You really care about her a lot, don’t you?”
“Yeah… yeah, I do.” Wilbur breathed.
“No wonder. I haven’t seen you this torn up about anyone in… in well, forever.” Tommy smiled, not joking or smirking, but just smiled. “We’re here for you, you know.”
“I know.” Wilbur smiled as the two made eye contact. “Thank you, Tommy.”
“Does this mean you’re not mad at each other anymore?” Tubbo asked from behind them, and the two brothers smiled. 
“Yeah, yeah I think we’re done.” Tommy said as Tubbo wrapped his arms around both of his brothers shoulders with a relieved smile. 
“Good, because I did not want to be walking home in that awkward silence for another hour.” With that, laughter erupted from all three. 
-------------------------------------------
Philza smiled, eyebrows raised in a bit of surprise as he took the jar of honey from Tommy, looking at his condition. “Should I even ask?”
“We used Plan B.” Tubbo said with a smile, making Tommy smirk.
“I punched a thing.” Tommy said confidently, and Philza laughed. 
“Go get cleaned up, both of you - and don’t forget to apply that sting cream.” The two boys marched to the bathroom as Philza set their prized jar on the counter. Back in the living room, Wilbur’s gut ached uncomfortably as Sally walked toward him, giving him a sad smile. 
“Hey.” Her hands found their way into his and their fingers interlocked. It felt… nice.
“Hey.”
“Do you, uh… can we talk? Alone?”
“Uh… yeah, yeah. Okay.”
Sally’s hands never left his as they sat down on his bed in his room, the door closed behind them. Though for the past few weeks Wilbur had so much he wanted to say to his girlfriend, now he couldn’t seem to find any words as they just sat in silence for a few moments. The fur on Sally’s ears and tail stood on end, and she took a deep breath, looking at their hands as she finally spoke.
“Okay, Wil… there’s something I’ve gotta tell you.”
Wilbur’s heart felt uneasy by your nervousness, worries filling his mind of finally figuring out the truth… and if he didn’t like what it was. If Sally decided to break up with him - all the uncomfortableness would make so much sense, why would she drag it out for this long… he really hoped it wasn’t that, but… it seemed more and more probable. 
“You’ve probably noticed I’ve been acting weird, right?” She asked as he nodded. “Well, remember when I told you that I used to not be attached to anything, because I knew it could only lead to disaster?”
“Yeah…?”
“Well… I’m attached to you, a lot. I’ve realized it lately, and I’ve realized I don’t… I don’t want to lose you. I was so scared that if I told you, I would, and I… I love you too much to lose you, Wil.”
Is this what she’d been upset about?
“You’re never going to lose me, Sally. I promise…” He said, relaxing a bit as his mind whirred about the entire situation. He kissed her forehead softly as he pulled her in for a comforting embrace. “I promise I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
Sally smiled, beginning to relax a bit more, but still a bit nervous. “That’s why it’s been so hard to tell you, Wil.”
“Tell me what?”
Sally took another deep breath. “Wilbur, I’m pregnant.”
Wilbur blinked a few times, trying to process what his girlfriend had just said. Pregnant. She… she was pregnant. That was not what he was expecting her to tell him in the slightest. But, it did explain some things - her frequent bathroom trips, for one. His mind slowly began to put the pieces together, how it made so much sense…
“You serious…?” He asked her, and she smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear.
“One hundred percent, Wilby.” Her voice shook with nervousness as she mustered a smile, not knowing what he’d do or say next. Wilbur broke out into a huge smile as he took Sally into his arms and spun her around as the two laughed, smiling. Wilbur was so relieved that it wasn’t what he thought, that it was the farthest thing from his worries. All the anxiety, the fear… it all went away. They both fell into the bed, smiling and laughing. Wilbur planted a soft kiss on Sally’s cheek as he moved to cuddle her tightly in his arms. “So… you’re not upset with me?”
“No, why would I?” Wilbur said. “Of course, I mean, it’s unexpected… but, we’ll get through it together.” His attention quickly turned to her, his relief turning quickly into concern. “Are… are you okay? I can’t imagine what you’re going through, if you even want the baby-”
“I’ve had lots of time to think about it.” Sally laughed. “And, I’ll admit I had mixed feelings at first - partly because of what you’d think, but partly because I’ve never even thought about kids, you know? It always seemed so far off.”
“Well, if you’re uncomfortable about it, we can always talk about other options, or…” Wilbur said, trying to reassure her.
“No. No… I…” Her eyebrows furrowed, and her ears flicked back and forth. “I think I wanna keep it.” She looked over to Wilbur as her hands found their way back into his. “I was so scared of losing everything that I kept this from you for so long… I don’t want to be scared anymore.” She laid her head against his chest, finding the words as her eyes were glued on their hands. “I want… I want you, Wilbur. I want this.”
“Are you sure, we don’t have to decide anything right now, I don’t want to pressure you-”
“Wilbur.” Sally reached up to cup his cheek with a comforting smile, feeling happy, relieved, and content. Of course, part of her was scared of the unknown, but Sally knew that what Phil had told her, what Wilbur told her was the absolute truth - she and Wilbur would get through it together. Her hand moved his over her stomach, and Wilbur couldn’t help but smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
You wouldn’t see it at first glance, but they were both absolutely terrified at the new adventure waiting for them. Yet, somehow, in each other’s arms, they felt safe, secure. Like they could do anything. I guess, looking to what would come next, that was more true than either of them would think.
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kareofbears · 3 years ago
Text
plainly in truth, chapter 2/5
“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.“
Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.
read on ao3 or below the cut :)
Yusuke wasn’t too sure if what he was doing was of the right mind, but his heart is definitely in the right place.
There’s a lapse in time between Jails and hitting the road. Everyone is out soaking in the last of Sendai; Ryuji and Akira (and by extension, Sophia) are on a quest to buy any last minute supplies that they might need while the girls and Morgana are taking in the sights that they didn’t quite manage to explore as much as they’d like.
Well, the girls who like crowds and sightseeing are on a quest, at least.
Futaba and Yusuke are in the trailer by their own volition—he didn’t need to see anything else that wasn’t a timeless statue, and he learned early in his life that if you pace your spendings, you can then use that money to spend in the future. Quite the contrary, Futaba has had a little too much excitement these past few days and is more than happy to hide away in her top bunk with only her laptop charger peeking out from the bottom of her fleece blanket.
(A cartoon rendition of the Sendai temple is printed onto the fleece. Apparently Haru had yet to see Futaba purchase anything ‘tourist-y’ and action figures of various anime characters don’t seem to count.)
He tugs on her laptop cord. “Hello.”
“...What?” she grunts, voice slightly muffled. Through the thin fabric, he can see the illumination from her screen.
“I need help reacting to something.”
“And you decided to ask me?” she deadpans. “The literal shut-in?”
“The previous shut-in,” he corrects. “You haven’t been a shut-in in nearly a year. A marvelous feat, if I do say so myself.”
“Yeah, and this is my way of celebrating.” The lump on the bed seems to curl further in on itself. “Begone. Do a painting or something. This is my me time. The equivalent of guzzling down a boat load of Arginade. There’s barely any time to be by myself considering the whole group is treating this RV like a pimped out party bus, so shoo.”
J-pop starts playing from inside the blanket fort, and even Yusuke knows a dismissal when he hears one. That won’t stop him, though.
He tugs again, harder. “That is the reason I’m asking you now. I can’t have this be heard by prying ears.”
Had there been a cat on the bunk bed, its ears would have twitched. “Is this…?”
“Yes,” he nods sagely. “It’s a secret.”
Futaba’s head pops out, eyes wide and nearly glowing in excitement. If there was one thing that she liked more than recovering her energy, it's uncovering every nook and cranny of people’s lives, whether they want it or not.
“Inari, you should’ve said something!” She throws the blanket off herself, snatches her laptop in her arms and jumps down. Slamming it down on the booth, she throws herself on top of the smooth faux leather. “Tell me everything. The deets, the specs, all down to the last dirty drop of tea.”
He slides in to join her, albeit much slower. “Before you tell me that I misled you, I want to make it clear: I don’t know what the secret is.”
“What!” she slaps her forehead, groaning. “Yusuke, why would you do me like that? That’s false advertising to the max, and I do not appreciate you tricking me.”
“There wasn’t a trace of trickery. What I’m about to say really does have to do with a secret, but I need your help with how to deal with it.”
“I’m gonna level with you here pal,” she puts a hand on his wrist. “I’m not the right person for this, but I’d be darned if I let you walk away without telling me anything. So let’s hear it! I’m ready for some juicy goss. Oh! Can I guess? Is it about Haru?”
He frowns. “No. Is there something about Haru?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!” she says, patting her hands rapidly on the table. “Come on, just spill the beans already.”
“There are no ‘beans’ to spill yet, and besides, that sounds like a waste of perfectly good food.” He leans back against the plush cushion. Only a pinch of guilt arises in him as he says it. “It’s about Ryuji.”
“Ooo, Skull himself. Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting him.”
“It relieves me that you said that. I share the same sentiment—it wasn’t until I had run into him the night before when I had started to truly suspect something. And what I found was…” he trails off.
Her lips pull downwards. “That bad?”
“It was worrying, to say the least.”
She sighs. Most of the energy in her seemed to have filed out in the presence of a more serious topic. “Dang. I knew it was fishy when he left, but he’s always been able to just hash things out on his own.” Her expression changes as an idea pops into her head, and it morphs into one he recognizes. “Does—?”
“No. Akira doesn’t know, apparently.”
Futaba splutters, and he has to resist the urge to nod his head at her reaction. “He—Akira—wait, what? He doesn’t know? Oh, it must be bad bad.”
“My thoughts exactly. Initially, I had thought that whatever this was, it was manageable. Like that time he had spent his month’s allowance on a claw machine to win Makoto that light-up buchimaru.” Idly, he touches her keyboard lightly, appreciating the kaleidoscope of colors that emanate from it. “You know how I feel. We’re the Phantom Thieves; we can’t allow anyone to suffer alone, even if the one we’re helping is a Phantom Thief himself.”
Futaba raises an eyebrow. “And how do you want to help him?” she asks. “By talking to him? Let’s be real, you and I have the lowest social stat in this group. Combined, we can maybe reach the nerd student council president, and the guy who can and should handle this doesn’t even know about it!” Biting down on her lip, “Should we tell Akira?”
“Absolutely not. That was the one thing he had requested, and we cannot go against it. By extension, I don’t think we should tell anyone else.” A thought comes to him. “Wait, he mentioned that Ann knows of his situation.”
“Great! Someone who knows how to deal with people’s problems and isn’t us. What are we waiting for?” She reaches for her phone, and Yusuke proceeds to smack her hand out of the way. “Ow?”
“Don’t call her!” he hisses. “Ryuji said that she’s, and I quote, ‘part of the problem’. We can’t have her knowing that we know something.”
“Ann is?” Futaba exclaims, shoving her glasses up her nose. “This is getting too deep. We don’t even know anything yet, and it’s really starting to feel like we’re part of some conspiracy.”
“That’s right, we don’t know anything, and it is our largest road block.” Yusuke crosses his arms. “We don’t know what happened between Ryuji and Ann, or if something even occurred between Ryuji and Ann. What if they had an argument? What if they’re fighting, and it becomes irreparable between them? What if it begins affecting our Jail runs?”
“You really gave this some thought, huh?”
“But of course. I must nurture the few friends that I have managed to treasure.” He glances outside and sees the crowds clambering to see their tourist spot. “We may be different from most teenagers, but I don’t believe we’re immune to the nature of cliques or dramas or even insecurities.”
“God, what a good friend you are, it’s bugging me,” Futaba accuses. “So what the heck, Mr. Philanthropist? We’re stuck between a rock and our friend group here. This mission was doomed before you even dragged me out from my hideout,” she says, eyes drifting away to stare longingly back at her bunk bed.
“Stop making that expression. There’s a reason why I talked to you about this.” He leans forward. “What I’m asking is, to be frank, unfavorable, but I really do believe that it’s worth it to do this.”
She looks at him, and it only takes her a few seconds for realization to set in. Her jaw drops. “Oh Inari, that’s vile.”
“If you’re uncomfortable with it—”
“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable with it,” she cuts in. The grin on her face is wide; a woman in her element. “I just thought you’re the one who’d be all against this kind of thing.”
Futaba pulls her laptop towards her. “Sit back and observe the master at work.”
He watches as her fingers breeze through the keyboard, eyes inscrutable as light reflects off of her glasses. “So you can do it?”
“I’ve hacked into the Diet Building’s security cameras on a dare back when I was twelve,” she snorts. “This is Mario Kart Baby Park with the railings up.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It means—” With a flourish, she hits a key before glancing up at him, smug. “That this will be very easy. I’m thinking we can start with their text messages and work our way up to the big stuff.”
“Oh, right. You can go through our phones,” he grimaces. “You’ve stopped doing that, yes?”
“Of course I have! By the way, did you figure out what courses you wanted next term? I saw your advisor was bugging you about it, you should really email her back.”
“Yes, I’ve finally decided on sculpting as opposed to visual photography since it lets me focus on the anatomy of...” he pauses. “Wait—”
“Okay, looks like I got his text messages with Ann, so let’s all focus on this now!” she says loudly. “Scooch over, let’s go through ‘em.”
He does, and she moves to sit next to him. Yusuke peers at her screen. “Nothing out of the ordinary. There is a significant drop in the frequency of his replies, but that’s been the case for me as well.”
“Same here.” She continues scrolling up rapidly, so fast he wonders how she can keep up with herself. “Memes, memes, lots of ‘where you at’ texts, more memes…”
Something catches his eye. “Hold. Go down slightly, I think that link might be interesting.”
“‘How to treat knee pain: 11 steps with pictures’?” she reads aloud. “His knee is acting up again?”
“What’s peculiar is that I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He squints at Ryuji’s response to it—generic gratitude. “Even in Jails, he runs around without a care in the world.”
“What’s even weirder is that Ann is actually sending Ryuji wikihow links on how to treat his knee,” she snorts. “Let’s put a pin in this one and move on, Ann’s chat is chalking up to be a dead end.”
Rubbing her hands together, she straightens up like a professor in front of a lecture hall on the first day of classes. “Now Yusuke, when you’re looking to crack someone open like a tasty, moist omelette, there are two things that you must look into: their email and their bank account.”
After some clicking, Ryuji’s email pops up. “Email is obvious, since this pretty much tracks anything big. Delivery shipments, subscriptions to websites, acceptance letters. It’s all here in a neat little bow, ready for us to read.”
“‘Manga’s are 20% off for this weekend only,” he reads. “‘Anime convention next weekend’, ‘Pizza coupons’.”
“Ugh, he’s so boring! Next!” Clicking sounds through the RV, emphasizing how much they were snooping through their friend’s private life. “Bank account, show us your wisdom.”
“My word,” Yusuke gasps when the tab opens up. “That’s quite a lot of funds.”
“Inari, four thousand yen is definitely not a lot of money. How much do you have in yours?”
“I don’t have an account,” he admits. “I was on my way to the bank to open one, but I ran out of train fare. By the time I had gotten there, it was already closed. Quite rude, considering that it was only two o’clock.”
She levels him with a look. “Was it a Sunday when you did all this?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Never mind,” she shakes her head. “Okay, so nothing conclusive or even embarrassing. That means that whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about it.”
Futaba hops out of the booth and starts rummaging through everyone’s luggage. “That means we unlock the secret, classic, never goes out of style method of snooping—” with an expression of triumph, she showcases Ryuji’s backpack to him. “Going through their stuff IRL.”
Yusuke winces. “Don’t you think we might be going too far?”
“Hey, what’s with the cold feet? Where was your ‘justice’ from before?”
“I’m all for justice,” he watches her unzip the backpack, recoiling. “But even this seems a little excessive.”
“Look, we already went through his email, his bank account, his text messages. At this point, it’s kind of weird if we don’t find anything. Like—” she throws a pair of shorts behind her as she rummages. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have anything to hide? And also, it’d be kinda messed up to go through his stuff and come up empty-handed. If we didn’t find anything—” she pulls out several t-shirts and a crowbar and places them on the ground next to her. “Then we’d just be a bunch of snoops.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he reluctantly agrees. “Above all else, we need to find out what’s happened in his life to make him so upset.”
“Exactly. Oh man, wouldn’t it be crazy if we just found some porn mags or something? Retro to the max, but I can totally see him as the kind of guy to lug something like that along. Unless it’s of Akira.” She makes a face. “Ew. Funny thought is no longer funny.”
“Karma, if you will.”
“Shut it. Oh ho ho, what do we have here?”
“You found something?”
“It’s some fancy looking letter.” Futaba flops herself on the ground. She clears her throat. “'Sakamoto Ryuji. This letter is to inform you that…'” she stops all of a sudden.
“Futaba?” he probes.
“Um,” she blinks, and laughs nervously. “Um?”
He reaches over, and she doesn’t resist when it slips out of her hands. Skimming through the letter, only his eyes dare to move. When he finishes, he lets out a breath. “Oh no.”
“We shouldn't've read that,” she whispers, a perfect summation of what he was feeling. “We really should not have read that.”
There’s something to be said about the quayside in Sendai, in the way that it’s almost exactly like Tokyo.
Sure, the buildings here are definitely shorter—gone are the towering structures back home, and instead they’re replaced with shorter structures with cute local designs and colorful patio restaurants. The people here are different, too. Maybe it’s something to do with the water here, in how it’s cleaner and how you can actually see some fish down in the canals if you know where to look. Don’t even get him started in the air; jeez, do they infuse the oxygen here with something? He hasn’t stopped taking deep breaths ever since they got here.
But despite all of those discrepancies, the feeling of Akira’s hand in his is just like being home.
“And it’s actually really interesting,” he hears vaguely. “Because back in Leblanc, there used to be a couple issues about the temperature and stuff, but in my hometown there’s…Ryuji? Are you even listening to me?“
Akira’s telling him something. A story about Morgana? And Ryuji’s sure it’s very interesting, but he’s too focused on the way that sunlight hits his cheekbones.
“I’m listening,” he lies. “Keep going. This is just my listening face, I promise.”
“Sure, sure,” Akira agrees easily. “That’s just your listening face, rather than me and my wicked good looks, right? I totally believe you.” He wiggles his fingers. “Give.”
Ryuji offers him the caramel ice cream cone in his other hand, letting him bite into it like some kind of psychopath. “Done?” he asks, shifting the tote bag tucked into the crook of his elbow, careful not to rattle the eggs inside. Akira bravely offered to carry the groceries, but he had obviously refused.
“Mmm. That’s good stuff.”
“Right? I read about the ice cream here when I was younger, and they were really hyping it up on the ad.” He takes a lick, grinning when the taste hits his tongue. “And on a summer day like this? Unbeatable. It’s really reminding me of last summer when we hung out everyday in your room eating crap, taking naps, and playing games.” It also helped that hanging out with his crush was a daily thing, he thought.
“And I got to hangout with my crush a lot too, so that’s always a plus,” Akira adds.
Ryuji stops, and Akira turns around to give him a weird look. “What?”
“You get me,” he says in awe.
“I sure hope so,” he tugs him forward, and they continue their walk, their shoes rhythmically landing on the wood in unison. A comfortable silence takes over, but that’s no good. Ryuji wants to hear him talk.
“So imagine you get ten million yen,” he starts. “What do you do with it?”
It’s not the first time he’s asked this. They discuss it often, eagerly like the dreaming boys they both are. Akira considers it and Ryuji loves that about him. It doesn’t matter how stupid his questions are—he will always answer them with as if it were a serious question.
“For starters, Yusuke’s getting a place as soon as possible.”
“Duh,” he snorts. “Apparently, his roommate brought someone back to hook up with them. Poor guy got so traumatized he slept over at Haru’s.”
“We should be glad that he didn’t ask them for poses,” Akira laughs. “Next, I’m making sure that Sojiro has enough for retirement.”
“Obviously. Rest in peace Leblanc—you make fire coffee, but no one’s there to drink it.”
“And then I’m making sure your mom has the funds for retirement for sure.”
“I love you,” he sighs.
“I know.” Akira starts swinging their hands back and forth. “Then with the rest, I’ll buy us some new shoes for when we start training again together, and whatever’s left we can split it up with the rest of the Thieves and they can do what they want with it.”
“I bet Ann would go on a shopping spree in France,” he says.
“Haru would probably donate hers.”
“Makoto’s is going straight into university. I can see her going in to get a Masters with that kind of money.”
Ryuji refuses to let his expression fall. “That’s her. Big bookworm with a capital B.” Stop talking about this, stop talking about this. “How about you, Sophia? Any clue what you’ll do with a boatful of moolah?”
A harmonic beep rings through the air and Akira passes her over to him. “I would invest in cryptocurrency and turn ten million into one hundred million,” she says cheerfully. “Then I would take that hundred million and turn it into one billion yen.”
Ryuji coughs, sliding her into his back pocket. “You know what? That’s my bad. I should’ve expected that, honestly.”
Akira plucks the remainder of their ice cream cone from his hand and throws it in his mouth, munching. Wordlessly, he takes out a pack of wet-wipes from his pockets and hands it to Ryuji.
“Thanks.” Reluctantly dropping his hand, he thoroughly cleans through his sticky fingers. “You didn’t ask me what I was gonna do with my money.”
He nods in a go ahead way.
“After I give most of it to my mom, I was just gonna give the rest to you.” Ryuji kicks a stray pebble. It skirts off the edge of the boardwalk. There’s a tug on his arm. “Yeah?”
Akira covers his mouth with a hand, before making an incomprehensible garble of noise.
“Huh? My bad, I didn’t catch that.”
A few seconds of vigorous chewing, he swallows. “I said,” Akira says, eyes glimmering the way it does when he gets really excited. “I was going to do the exact same thing.”
“Dude!” Ryuji throws his arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close. “You understand me like no one else does. What the eff!”
“I’m glad,” he says softly. Wrapping his arm around him, Ryuji blinks at the unexpected hug. “It’s nice that we're on the same wavelength.”
Suspicion tingles across Ryuji’s skin. “Hold up.” Pulling away, he squints his eyes at him. “No.”
Akira immediately looks to the side. “What?” he says, defensive. “It’s nothing.”
“No freaking way.”
“I think I saw a cool arcade back there, it has cool prizes that I think you’d like, and—“
“Kurusu Akira,” he says sternly, grabbing his face between his hands. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.”
“I’m not!” he insists, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m not, you know I’m not that type of guy.”
“But?” Ryuji prompts.
“But…” he hesitates. “I’d be happy for you, if you find that it’s easier to talk to other people that aren’t me.” Akira straightens up, pulling out of Ryuji’s grasp but inspects his hand like it were something to be studied. How strange it was to see his long, elegant fingers grasp his brutish, blistered ones. “I’m relieved that I didn’t leave you alone. I just...miss being your go-to, I think.”
“Akira.” He says slowly. “My man. The love of my fucking life. You are never not gonna be my go-to. You’re my go-one.” Rapping his knuckles against Akira’s temple carefully, “Your hometown is messing with you up here, making you say weird shit like that.”
“I know, I know.” Running his index finger down his wrist, Ryuji can feel how cold he is. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an overthinker.”
“As a chronic underthinker, no, I did not.” He kisses Akira’s palm. “But it works out, so it’s all good.”
Turning them both around, Ryuji starts walking. “I know this is super duper impossible for a guy like you, but I’m gonna have to ask you for a favor.”
“Anything.”
“You have got, to the best of your ability,” he bumps into Akira’s shoulder. “Stop stressing out.”
He frowns. “It’s my job to stress out.”
“It’s our job to stress out,” he corrects. “You and me. Founding Thieves. We share the burden, bro. We got into this together, we’re getting out of it together. That includes you worrying about our relationship outside the ‘Verse, and extend it all the way to what dingy hometown you took the bullet train from.”
“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean? No way I can enjoy the most perfect person on the planet be a little jealous over his boyfriend getting attention, what kind of asshole would I be?” And before Akira can say anything, “I know, not jealous, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“I love you.”
“I know,” he flashes a peace sign.
“I know you know.” A group of middle schoolers pass them, chattering about nothing and pointing out random things on the quay, all enjoying their summer vacation. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?” he asks suddenly.
Unable to help himself, he ruffles Akira’s hair, pitch black and hot to the touch. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“I don’t?”
Gray eyes look into his brown ones, earnest and trusting. Just like that, the light feeling in Ryuji’s chest vanishes. “No,” he responds slowly. “You don’t.”
“Good,” Akira nods, and sees where they were heading towards. “Oh, you took that seriously?”
“You bet your crisp ass I did,” he says, pushing the glass door open. The arcade is bright, neon, and littered with claw machines. Add that to the list of similarities from Tokyo. “I don’t fuck around with arcades. I’m in the top hundred players in the Gun Gale in Shinjuku.”
“Was that with Shinya or without?”
“Not important.” He surveys the area. “There it is. Can you grab us some change? I’ll pay you back.”
Akira waves his hand, walking towards the coin machine. “Don’t. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay for our dates?”
“A hot one!” he yells. When he turns the corner, Ryuji collapses into a bright red racing chair. “Fuck,” he hisses, heart beating too damn fast for it to be normal. “Chill out, Sakamoto, jesus.”
It only gets worse when a familiar beep rings out. “Ryuji, your heart rate is at 160. Is everything alright?”
“Sophia!” he wheezes out, relieved. “Can you—will—” he stops, scrunching his eyes closed. “I’m having a panic attack, I think.”
“Searching for how to treat panic attacks,” she says immediately, and he sags into the cool plastic gratefully. “Deep breaths will help, slowly to the count of ten.”
His heart is beating so hard that he can barely hear the jingles and the whirrs of the machines around him. “Count out loud. Hurry, before he gets back.”
She does, and he grips the side of the chair as he focuses on breathing. The attack passes by faster than he hoped it would. “Thank god,” he breathes. “Thank you.”
“No prob,” she says, before hesitating. “Akira—”
“Will not know about this,” he cuts her off, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll tell him eventually, don’t worry, et cetera. I know all this. Ann’s been hounding me non-freakin’-stop. Just don’t tell him, Soph. Please.”
Before she can say anything, Akira comes back, pockets full of change and that signature small smile resting on his lips.
The bright side about missing out on Sapporo’s snow festival is having its tourism as its lowest point when you visit it in the summer.
Even the shopping district just outside Susikino isn’t very crowded; there’s the usual street vendors and shops with bright pastries and cute clothes. But even having it right beside the Sapporo Tower, it’s still nothing uncomfortable. At least, it’s not uncomfortable when you get to observe the environment through a phone lens.
“This is nice, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had much of an opportunity to talk to you yet, which is quite rude of me.”
“No prob,” Sophia replies easily. She was swaying from Haru’s neck, hanging by a silicone phone holder that she had bought from a convenience store. Futaba had guffawed when she saw it, but Sophia’s happy about the purchase. It’s fun, and it lets her people watch from the perspective of one of her friends. “I have been meaning to talk to everyone one by one as to better understand each of you.”
“Oh, good! What better use of a nice chat while doing some shopping along the way?” Haru chirps, thumbing through a rack of out-of-season clearance sweaters as they pass. “I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to fashion and whatnot. Most of the time, I ask Ann-chan to accompany me.”
“I can try my best! Online websites are constantly updating in order to provide their readers with the newest trends.” Idly, she takes a peek. “Wide-legged pants are back in style.”
“That’s a relief,” she sighs. “I never pulled off skinny jeans too well. Long, flowy skirts have always been my thing. It just gives off such a nice aesthetic, doesn’t it?”
Sophia smiles. “I think you’d look good in anything. Have you considered going punk? You’d look very dope and intimidating with a black streak in your hair and a leather jacket.”
“Now that I can agree with, but that’s more Mako-chan’s style, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Actually, I bet Mako-chan would actually like that. Sometimes I feel as though she isn’t willing to branch out of her circle of clothes past a pair of Oxfords and a deep-coloured sweater. A push might be what she needs.”
She considers this. “Is it possible to buy clothes for her? That can be a possible ‘push’, quote unquote.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. She would never let us do such a thing.”
“One moment.” Pulling out a few files from inside her memory storage, she clears her throat. “According to my data analysis, Niijima Makoto has high difficulty straying away from well-mannered behaviours. Do you think that includes saying no to gifts given to her? That can be advantageous.”
Haru stops walking and pulls the phone up so that they’re at eye-level. “Sophia-chan,” she beams. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”
They continue walking down the street when Haru gasps suddenly. “You literally can’t shop, can you?”
“Of course I can. I can get anything in the world for you,” she says proudly. “Anything.”
“Alright, we’ll have to test that later, but I mean you can’t use what you buy,” she frowns, eyes troubled. “Your sweater is adorable, but you’re forced to wear it everyday, right? Can you even do your hair differently? Is it possible for you to pin it, or even let it down?”
Sophia finds it endearing that she would let such a thing bother her. She doesn’t even have a social insurance number, but Haru’s worried about hair clips. “No, but I quite like it the way it is. It doesn’t get in the way when I do my work, and in the Metaverse, it gets completely hidden as to let me do my fighting,” she explains, karate chopping in her screen. “But I can understand the human desire for change.”
“Would you like that?” Haru asks gently. “To change? Um, change out of your clothes, and change mentally. Either one.”
“Change mentally, of course! I’d love to understand my friends better and understand how to help them. It’s a vast mountain of knowledge, but I’d want nothing more than to decode the mystery of the human heart,” she says eagerly. “But for clothes...I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it. I’m pretty sure I can’t try it.”
“That settles it,” Haru looks both ways before crossing the street, jogging slightly.
Sophia perks up. “If you’re heading somewhere specific, I can give you directions.”
“No need.” She has an intense, hungry look on her face, not unlike the one she had when the new axe Akira bought had finally arrived at their RV. “We’re just about here.”
They stop in front of a store, and she can barely read the sign from the phone’s angle. “‘Case in Point’?”
Haru pushes the glass door open, greeting the cashier. “It’s a phone modifier shop.”
There’s no effort to explain anything else, but Sophia can confidently add ‘anticipation’ onto her growing list of experienced feelings.
“Out of curiosity—” Haru begins as they exit the modifier store, the cashier still bug-eyed from the tip she had left at his counter. “Can you see everything inside Akira-kun’s phone?”
“Yes,” she replies. The environment that she lives in, and more specifically, Akira’s phone, is now a bright, perfectly polished shade of rose gold with a mint outline. A far cry from the matte black that it was before. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. “Out of curiosity once again, is there anything interesting? Anything worth noting?”
She jumps as Sophia’s voice suddenly morphs into Akira’s without warning. “Nice try,” the phone plays. “But no.”
And just as quick, Sophia comes back to the phone. “Sorry about leaving,” she says. “Akira had asked me to play that clip if someone ever, and I quote, ‘tried me.’”
Haru giggles. “Just like Akira-kun to be so thorough. Impressive as always, leader.” She peers down at her watch. “I suppose it’s about time to head back, isn’t it?”
“We still have eight minutes to spare.”
“We do. Perhaps we should take a stroll around the park?”
“Cool,” she says. “Wanna ask Futaba and Yusuke if they want to come with?”
“Sure?” Haru blinks. “That’s very specific.”
“On your two o’clock,” she points out. “In front of the book store.”
They watch as Futaba and Yusuke stand across the street from them. Futaba is aggressively pointing her finger at the books on display, then slapping her fist against her palm like she was devising a war strategy. Yusuke shakes his head wildly, comically putting his hands in his pockets and revealing that there was nothing inside. She sighs and walks away, tugging along a dejected boy behind her.
“Aren’t you going to ask them?”
“In a moment.” Haru takes them to the front of the store. “This isn’t a bookstore, I don’t think. What’s it called Sophia?”
After a quick search: “‘Sapporo’s School Supply Store’,” she says. “The alliteration makes it fun to say.”
“Indeed it does.” Peering into the store, Haru makes an introspective noise. “Now isn’t this interesting?” she hums. “Do you mind if I make one more purchase?”
“Not at all,” Sophia says, thrilled to add another point she had learned: If Haru wants something, there’s nothing that will get in her way.
“So,” Makoto starts, and Ryuji has to hold back a groan. He knows that tone. He’s memorized that tone. All the second years can feel her tone from a mile away. Hell, Ann probably took an instinctive step back just now. “Have you started to think about university?”
“Nope,” he says, wiping the sweat off his brow as they jog around the corner of Odori park. Back before he had left for his hometown, Akira and Ryuji would be up at dawn to train. Lately though, he’s been using any free time he has that isn’t planning for, prepping for, or actively doing a Jail run to sleep in the RV. And hey, he has no beef with Makoto, and it’s not like she can’t keep up with his training (she can most definitely kick his ass in hand-to hand), but she has a tendency to push when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Not a single thought towards it. It’s been pretty good, actually.”
“I can tell,” she agrees. “It’s almost like you blocked my number.”
“I did not!”
“So you actively choose not to answer any of my texts?”
“Ugh, don’t set me up like that,” he winces. “You know I’m stupid enough to fall for shit like that everytime.”
“Hold on.”
Ryuji grunts as he feels a hold on his shirt, forcing him to stop. “Ew, don’t touch my back, it’s Nigeria there.”
“First of all, it’s Niagara.” She spins him around. He’s only a little taller than her, but something about her always seems to tower over him. “Second, do you know why I keep pushing all of you to go to university?”
“Because you hate us?” he mumbles.
Makoto glares at him. “Try again.”
“...Because you don’t hate us?”
“Because I don’t hate you,” she repeats. “You’re all rowdy and wild and sometimes I don’t understand the jokes you make—”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you fell for a deez nuts joke.”
“But I do, inexplicably, love all of you,” she pushes on, and that shuts him up. “I know what you’re all capable of. Amazing things! I understand you all believe that I’m the be-all end-all, and I appreciate your compliments, but there are some things that only Ann can do, or Akira, or Yusuke.”
Makoto continues running, and he reluctantly follows suit. “And you. You can achieve things that I can’t even dream of, Ryuji.”
He resists the urge to yawn. “Thanks for the pep talk, Niijima.” Looking left, the gelato is looking real good. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”
“You aren’t very good at hiding secrets, Ryuji.”
Now that grabbed his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, prez!” Speeding past her, he holds out a hand to make her stop. “What do you mean by that?”
She raises a brow. “Nothing in particular, but your reaction is showing me that I should have meant something by it.”
He gnaws on the inside of his cheek roughly. “Okay, but why did that come into your brain? Why do you think I have some kinda secret?”
“I live with a prosecutor everyday of my life, of course I know when something’s afoot.” Pushing her hair back, she squints up at him. “You’ve been more...jumpy lately, yet somehow more laid-back than usual. I wanted to talk to Akira about this—”
Blood pours into his mouth when he accidentally bites too hard. “You talked to Akira?!” he half yells, red dribbling from the corner of his lips.
“Oh my god!”
“Fuck,” he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Bit too hard.”
“N-no! Don’t apologize!” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a napkin, pulling him to a stone ledge. “Sit and take this so you don’t bleed all over yourself. I’ll be back.”
He doesn’t bother speaking, only nods as she turns around. When she comes back, she’s holding a water bottle. “Here.”
Taking it gratefully, he takes deep gulps before spitting it out. “Why the hell does this taste like the beach?” he splutters.
“I didn’t say to drink it! It’s salt water to get rid of infections!”
“Why would you do that to me?!”
“Because I thought you knew to do that from the second-year health class!” she shoots back. “Gargle it and spit. Near the gutter, mind you, it’s rude to spit in front of kids. They might get the wrong idea.”
As if kids are gonna see him and think that there’s something worth remembering. He sips, sloshing it around his mouth before gently letting it dribble into the grated sewer. “Blegh.”
“You’re welcome. Keep at it. And while you’re doing that,” she sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s been making you anxious?”
He pauses. “Anxious?”
Makoto gives him a stern look. “‘Experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.’ It was covered in your midterm.”
“Ah, right,” he mutters. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, his heart is beating too quick for it to be normal. Then again, when was the last time it wasn't? “You think I’m anxious?”
“I’m not sure. Keep gurgling,” Makoto chides.
He does, the salt water still red whenever he spat, and she continues. “All I know is when my anxiety gets really bad, I chew on my lip. Sae used to chide me when we were younger, but you know, she got busy,” she shrugs, as if he didn’t know how much it pained her to lose her only family member to a career of protecting the wrong people. “When I mentioned it to Akira, he took it upon himself to check up on me regularly during exam weeks.”
To prove her point, she takes her lower lip and flips it out for him to see—white teeth marks, but old scars instead of anything fresh. Letting go, her expression is smug. “He hasn’t felt the need to check in for a while now.”
Spitting, water finally running clear, he grins. “Good for you. I’m glad to hear that, dude.”
“Thank you, but that wasn’t the point. My point was that I was only able to get better because I told someone about it. Someone I trusted.” Makoto turns to him, her gaze serious. “I know that’s what Akira is to you. Habits like these are harmless at first, but they can turn into something else more dangerous. I won’t stand for that. My own justice won’t stand for that.”
Ryuji opens his mouth, before closing it. I’ll tell Akira, he wants to say. How many times does he have to repeat that line before he starts believing it himself? “Okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say without hating himself even more.
“Okay.” She pats his knee before standing. “I can get us some gelato.” She stretches, wincing as her joints crack into place. “If you’re feeling up to it, start your cool down. Unless you wanna keep training?”
“I’m good. Felt enough blood rush for the day.”
She goes to the ice cream stand, and he stares up at the blue sky.
Makoto’s right, because of fucking course she is. She’s right, he knows she’s right. But she doesn’t get it. To her, Akira’s a friend. A guy who helped her out and changed her life, yeah. If he hadn’t met her when she did, maybe she would’ve become a scummy adult who didn’t look up from market pricing and hedge funds.
But Ryuji? Ryuji would be dead without Akira. That’s a fact and a half.
To Makoto, Akira’s a friend. To Ryuji, he’s Akira, and you can’t be on a higher pedestal in his mind than that.
It was Yusuke who took the first step.
“Ann,” he greets cordially. “How do you do?”
She gives him a weird look. “Kinda trying to focus here,” she says, gesturing at the scene in front of them. They, Morgana, and Sophia were in the B team as they watched the rest of them try and get rid of the remaining Shadows in Mariko’s Jail, tersely attentive and waiting on Joker’s word in case they needed a last minute switch. The Jail was environmentally brutal; the ice underneath the soles of their shoes makes them skid more often than they’d like. It almost makes the fights seem quicker, one notch faster than usual.
Yusuke pays her dismissal no mind. “I, myself, am learning many new things lately. Can the same be said about you?”
In the corner of his eye, Futaba pauses typing on her laptop to face palm.
“Are you...” Ann says after a brief pause. “Is this a threat? Are you threatening me?”
“No—”
“Panther!” Akira’s clear voice rings out.
Ann dashes forward without question, high-fiving Morgana as they trade spots.
Futaba marches forward, glaring at Yusuke like he was crazy. “You dolt!” she hisses. “What was that supposed to be? I said be slick and cool, not act like a fool!”
“While I admire the rhyme scheme, I don’t understand what you want from me. That was as ‘slick and cool’ as I’m capable of,” he furrows his brow. “I even opened with a question that seemed as though the conversation would be a normal one, but then used that to transition into what I actually wanted to discuss.”
“Stop looking so proud of yourself and—”
“Fox!”
“Back in a moment,” he says before he’s gone, Makoto taking his place, leather uniform still smoldering from when she took a fire move head-on.
“What was that about?” Haru asks, swinging her axe like a picnic basket.
“Nothing, Noir,” Futaba sighs, plopping back into place where Ann had stood. Carmen had kindly left a warm patch of concrete in her wake. “Just Inari became a big ole’ dumb-dumb.”
“I see,” she hums. “So this has nothing to do with what you two have been conspiring about lately?”
Her eyes shot wide open. “Con...conspiring?” she stutters out. “What do you mean by—”
A particularly loud scream rips into the air, and everyone turns their heads to see Captain Kidd slam his hook into the ground, purple arms erupting from the snow and wiping out a huge chunk of Shadows all in one go.
“Hot damn,” Futaba says, directing her focus back to her laptop and making sure Ryuji has enough health to keep going.
“He’s strong,” Haru observes, all playfulness gone.
“Too strong.” After Futaba gives everyone on the main team a good amount of health, something on her screen makes her pause. “Huh…?”
“Noir.”
Haru turns around to see Makoto waiting for her. “I need to discuss something with you.”
“Of course,” she steps closer to her and drops her voice. “Is everything alright?”
“I’d bring this up with Joker, but I don’t want to bother him if I’m not sure if there’s anything wrong yet,” Makoto pushes her mask up. “But have you noticed Skull's been acting strange lately?”
“Mona!”
He swaps with Ann, her pigtails covered in snow. “Ugh,” she grimaces as she shakes it out. “I could try and melt it, but it’ll just drip down my back and freeze later on, and I do not want that.”
“Panther, I’d like your input as well, if you don’t mind,” Makoto says.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I was just talking to Noir about this, but did you notice anything strange about the way Skull’s acting lately?”
Ann takes a step back. “Well, what—No—I mean, that’s your opinion, I think!” she exclaims. “To me, Skull's acting is completely normal. He’s normal—actually, scratch that, he’s better than usual. Nothing about him is wrong, I think, and that’s pretty outstanding and impressive once you consider that he’s the one with the life-long injury. Not that that has to do with anything!” Ann yells. “I just wanted to point out how far he’s come, and how much he’s kicking ass right now. Actually,” her voice shifts to a stage whisper. “Don’t mention this because I don’t wanna cause drama, but Fox has been a little weird.”
“Weird how?” Makoto whispers back, looking extremely lost.
“Just earlier, he asked me how I was.”
“...I’m not following.”
“No, Panther-chan has a point,” Haru breaks in. “I can’t say for certain, but I have a strong feeling that Fox and—” she points at Futaba conspicuously. “Are up to something.”
“Sophie and Fox?” Ann breathes.
“Panther!”
“Damn, again? That’s what we get for going into an ice Jail,” she grumbles, swapping with Yusuke.
Haru sighs. “Panther-chan isn’t the best with context clues, is she?”
“Hello ladies,” Yusuke greets. “What were we discussing?”
Makoto gives him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
His jaw drops, bewildered, but before he can say anything, Futaba waves him over. “Get your fox butt over here!”
“I...Alright,” he says, resigned.
“Look at them,” Makoto nods at the pair. “I think you’re onto something.”
“I think so too, but I don’t want to be too hasty. After all, the two of them are such good friends now; it would be unfair to assume negative outcomes without evidence, or at least confront them first,” Haru says nonchalantly.
She understands immediately. “You have evidence?”
“Something of the sort.”
“Noir!”
“Duty calls,” she gives her a thumbs up, before Ann comes back once again.
“I can’t wait for us to go to a really hot place again,” she kicks the snow with her heels. “Then I’ll be comfortably in the B team because all the Shadows have fire resistance to the max.”
“Oh good, she’s back,” Yusuke’s expression is one of relief.
“Fox—” Futaba warns without looking up from her laptop.
“Come here. There is something we would like to discuss with you.” Whether or not it was intentional, he rests his hand on the handle of his katana.
“Okay but before we start, I just wanna ask—what are you doing with Sophie?” Ann accuses. “It’s fine to be friends with her, but you have to be careful. She’s really susceptible to what we say right now, and if you try anything funny—”
“What are you even saying?” he says, offended. “I barely even talk to her!”
They all glance at Sophia, who had been standing perfectly still and silent. She gives them a wave. They all awkwardly wave back.
Makoto places a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “Panther, Noir meant Fox and Oracle.” Ann flushes red as she continues. “And while we’re all here, I wanted to bring this up with you as well. Have you all noticed something strange with Skull?” Futaba stops typing. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think he’s extremely anxious about something. You all know that I’m an overthinker, so I might have the wrong idea but…” she trails off.
Futaba glances at Yusuke. Yusuke glances at Ann. Ann helplessly glances at Ryuji, still fighting alongside Akira and the others.
“I know nobody asked me,” they all jump a foot in the air when Sophia speaks beside them. “But I can at least confirm for suresies that there is something strange with Skull.”
“Which is…?” Makoto prods.
“I don’t know the specifics.” Ann, Yusuke, and Futaba let out a breath. “But he did have a panic attack recently.”
“I knew it!” Makoto snaps her fingers. “He’s had signs of being anxious, but I wasn’t too sure about it.”
“Queen!”
She runs out, and Ryuji comes in, looking exhausted but pleased. “Hey y’all, what were we talking about?”
It was dead silent before Sophia steps forward. “Look what I can do!” she exclaims, changing the expression on her screen to be an emoji with a flower.
“Whoa!” His eyes bug out, and they all sigh in relief. “That’s awesome! Can you do more?”
“That’s super cool Sophie, but,” Futaba looks at Ryuji, skeptical. “Don’t you feel weak right now? Your health is way down.”
“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie, you mind?”
“Not at all.” She calls for Pithos and green sparkles fall on him. “Better?”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
“Skull!”
“When the king calls, his knight answers,” he salutes, sprinting out as Makoto comes back in.
“So,” she glares at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you know?”
Ann groans. “Even if I did know something, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
“Wait,” Futaba points an accusing finger at her. “What do you know?”
“What do I know? What do you know? And for that matter, what does he,” Ann points at Yusuke. “Know? Noir said you guys are doing secret stuff together!”
“That’s preposterous,” he scoffs. “If it was secret, she wouldn’t have known.”
“That’s the dumbest argument I’ve ever heard.”
“How is it dumb?” he asks. “You can’t possibly think that just because Futaba and I are doing ‘secret stuff’ that it has anything to do with Skull’s situation!”
There was a pause. “Are those two connected?” Sophia asks. Futaba buries her face in her hands.
“That was...not the question I expected,” Yusuke answers weakly.
“Sophie!”
“God, I wish Joker would call for Inari instead,” Futaba groans.
Rushing out, Sophia high-fives Ryuji on the way. “Guess who’s back, motherfuckers?”
In an effort to bury their conversation, they all begin cheering overenthusiastically, Yusuke clapping politely. Bewildered, Ryuji instinctively gives them a thumbs up. “Thanks guys. Usually, my jokes don’t really land, but that made me real happy.”
“Uh, Skull,” Futaba raises an eyebrow. “How do you keep losing health? I didn’t even notice you taking a hit.”
“I’m low again? Damn, I didn’t even notice,” he groans loudly. “Queen, can you—”
“I’m on it.”
Just as Johanna heals him, Akira calls out once again: “Skull!”
“Joker really does rely on you, doesn’t he?” Yusuke observes.
Ryuji laughs. If they didn’t know any better, they would think it sounded a little nervous. “Well, gotta jet!”
High-fiving Makoto, he runs out. She stares at the remaining members of the B team. “You all know something,” she accuses. “And I understand if you’re all being loyal to him by keeping what you know close to your hearts. But remember this:” she takes a step forward, and they all take an unconscious step back, Futaba scooting from where she sat on the ground. “There comes a point where it’s actually more important to keep a person safe and healthy than to uphold a potentially dangerous secret.”
They all digest her words for a second, and flinch when a flash of blue flame appears, taking Akira’s Persona away.
“Finally.” He stretches his shoulders, satisfied. “That took awhile. Good work everyone, let’s keep going.”
Making their trek deeper into the Jail, Futaba half-jogs, half-speed walks to Ryuji. “Your health again,” she chides. “Seriously. I know I like to play around, but I always have my eye on you guys when you’re fighting. I literally have not seen you take a hit, but you’re getting drained like milk in a sink.”
He shrugs, unperturbed. “Whatever. You see my hits today, though? They were tough.”
“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “But your health is still low. I’ll call Joker about that.”
Before she can turn, he grabs her wrist. “Nope,” he says. “I’ll ask Panther. Thanks though!”
Ryuji goes to Ann, and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching him, surveying his every move.
All eyes except for the one that really matters.
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yuzuriha-sayori · 5 years ago
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hello! i really fell in love with benimaru taking care of a sick reader (;ω;) can i ask a nsfw scenario with him x reader ( something like “please be gentle” and he is like “ no” ) im sorry if this is a very stupid request (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
You asked and I finally answered! Thank you for waiting so long and so patiently as I worked through my writer’s block. I hope you enjoy this little fic that took me way too long to write! I enjoyed writing it nonetheless, dom Beni is just…yes.
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NSFW Shinmon Benimaru x F!Reader
Don’t make demands of Shinmon Benimaru
 Benimaru was a man of many things; quick tempered, blunt, yet hard working and respectable. However, patience was not one of those things. And for the past several days, his patience was constantly being tested. The culprit, a cute little vixen who spent most of her time causing quite the trouble for him. While he spent his days doing paperwork and cleaning up the mess that he created after Infernals would break out, she spent it causing mischief around him as if it was second nature. Not in the form of real crimes but it certainly it must be a crime somewhere.
“Shinmon-saaaaan~!” The soft mewl of the culprit at large startled the Captain out of his work. He had been writing down the reports of the recent SHC in Asakusa, a young woman who ran a vegetable stall. It was while he was working on the report that [y/n] decided to pay him a visit. She had snuck up behind him as he sat in the guest room. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed a delicate kiss just below his ear. The feeling sent a jolt down to his stomach and he furrowed his brow.
“[y/n], don’t you see I’m busy? Go find something entertaining like pestering Konro.” Benimaru said, trying to shrug the young woman off of him. He was met with blatant protest.
“I don’t want to!” She whined, nipping at his neck. “You haven’t spent time with me in weeks, I’m beginning to think that you’re not interested in me anymore.”
The raven-haired man had to fight of the urge to let out the grunt that began to travel out his mouth at the feeling of her nipping at his neck. He had so little patience. It not that he wasn’t interested in her, it’s that her drive had been out of control lately and he always ended up pounding her into the sheets until morning, leaving barely any time for him to complete his tasks.
[y/n] didn’t take being ignored lightly so she moved in front of him and slid into his lap, rolling her hips against him so he could feel the scorching heat between her legs. Her hands snaked over his shoulders and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of her breath fanning over his sensitive skin. “But I need you. Pleeeease.” Her voice was soft and desperate, and it would have been a lie if he said he wasn’t thinking about shoving her down right then in there and making a mess of her throbbing cunt that was soaking into his pants.
His lips parted to let out a throaty moan but caught it in his throat and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back. “[y/n] I’m not going to say it again, not right now. I’ll make time for you later. I’m busy.”
His lover pouted, tears threatening to spill over, but she nodded in understanding. After removing herself from his lap, she stopped at the door and glanced once more over at Benimaru to see that he was back to staring at his papers. She did the same thing every time she pestered him; he had learned her routine down to the time. About two hours later, she would come to him asking for snacks, tea, or a walk and try to tease him again until he couldn’t stand it and was sending her off again.
Finally done with his work, he realized it had gotten quite late. Where was [y/n]? He realized that she didn’t come to pester him. It was strange at first, but he dismissed it and though that she must have went home. After a few stretches to loosen the tight muscles of sitting down for so long, he made his way to the bath house for a soak. Usually by now, she was trying to find her way in, or was already in but there was no sign of [y/n]. Throughout the entire time he was bathing, he heard no peep of her. “[y/n]?” He called out. Maybe she was hiding? But still no sound. An uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. It’s not like he wanted her to come bug him, he rarely had time for himself. He just wasn’t used to it.
The sound of feet hitting the tiled ground of the bathhouse made him whip around expectantly only to be met with his Lieutenant’s confused and slightly amused expression. “I didn’t see or hear [y/n] around here so I thought it was clear to take a bath. What’s with that face Waka? Disappointed?”
Benimaru furrowed his brows and the corners of his lips tugged down into a frown. “I’m not disappointed.”
“Well, I did see [y/n] leave a couple of hours ago after having a stroll with Hika and Hina.” He watched as Benimaru’s shoulders sank ever so slightly and then raise to hoist himself out of the bath. “Maybe she’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Well, I hope not.” His Captain said, throwing his dark blue striped robe around him and tying it. He ran his fingers through his hair, combing the wet strands back away from his face. “I have a lot of work tomorrow too and don’t need more distraction. Enjoy your bath.”
“You know, you should really let me handle some, I’m your Lieutenant after all.”
Benimaru didn’t answer him as he walked out of the bathhouse and towards his room. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. Slightly irritated? No, there wasn’t a reason to. He didn’t miss her, or at least that’s what he told himself. His mind wandered back to the events of earlier, where [y/n] was desperately grinding against him. He could feel how aroused she was just by the heat radiating between her legs. It took only seconds for her to soak down to his cock.
Just the thought of how he could’ve taken her then caused heat to flow down to his dick and swell up. “Fucking shit, now? Really?” He groaned at how painful it was becoming and hurried to his room. It had been quite some time since he took care of it. Actually, it was always [y/n] taking care of it for him. He cursed at himself. And he was the one who sent her away.
Finally at his door, relief flooded through him. All he could think about was how he was going to be able to take care of his problem when he slid open his door. However, there were other plans waiting for him.
Prostrated with their ass to him and stark naked on the bed was [y/n]. Benimaru’s eyes flew open is confusion and surprised. “[y/n]? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you left.”
“I couldn’t stand it anymore…Beni…please.” Two delicate fingers reached down to spread her dripping lips apart, juices running down her thighs and dripping onto the bed. The sight sucked the air right out of his lungs. His already painful erection began to pulsate in need, wanting to feel the clenching of her walls around him. He could see how bad she wanted him, and damn did he want her too.
He made his way to her in only a few strides, standing behind her and taking a good look at how much she was pining for him. “You didn’t come pester me for the rest of the day.” Smack. A startled yelp left [y/n]’s lips.
“You told me not to.” She turned to look at him and was met with a deadpan expression. Smack. Another small cry was brought out of her.
“Don’t backtalk me.” His voice was calm but [y/n] could feel the irritation in it. Was he upset at her for being in his room or for listening? He wasn’t even sure at this point, but he felt the need to punish her. Untying his robe, he let it slip from his shoulders and down to pool around his feet. His erection stood proudly, each vein prominent on the sensitive skin of his shaft. Crouching down to position himself behind her, he gave himself a few pumps and lined his member up to her eager hole. He could feel the pulsing of her pink entrance just ready to swallow whole.
“Please hurry~!” [y/n] whined. It earned her another slap on her ass. Though painful, it caused her cunt to flow with more juices and Benimaru took the liberty of smearing it all over his length.
“Naughty girls don’t get to make requests. You do as I say.” Another whine left [y/n]’s lips but she wouldn’t dare say another word against him. This was the first time in weeks he’d shown her any sexual interest. He grabbed her hips roughly in his big hands and rolled his hips as his cock slid between her pink folds, the head of his cock teased her clit and occasionally her entrance. “You pester me for weeks on end and think you can make demands of me?”
“N-No sir.” Her voice was shaky and soft, her mind was too focused on the sensation of him between her legs. Such little teasing and she was already at her limit. “Beni wait…! I’m…I-I’m-!” The first orgasm in weeks that weren’t by her own fingers washed through her like a violent storm. Her legs shook at her whole body tensed up as a feral moan drew from her mouth. Her legs started to relax and go limp and she would have collapsed completely onto the futon if it weren’t for Benimaru’s solid grasp on her.
It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t immensely turned on by the fact she got off just by him teasing her, but he wasn’t having her give out just yet. “I haven’t even put it in and you’re already finishing? I don’t think so you little minx.” Positioning the tip to her entrance again, he slammed into her without giving her the chance to recover. The sudden intrusion caused her to buck forward and cry out.  
“W-Wait please I’m still really sensitive.” [y/n] whimpered. Her walls clenched tightly around him that it was almost uncomfortable for both. It’d been quite a while since she took his impressively large member in that she wasn’t prepared for him to stretch her out so suddenly. The feeling of being so full so quickly ignited a fire in her belly.
“What did I say about making demands?” Benimaru pulled out only to slam back into her. Gritting his teeth, he let out a deep growl. “Fuck it’s almost hard to pull out, you’re gripping my cock like your life depends on it. Miss me that much?”
[y/n] could only let out soft pants in pleasure as her legs trembled. She was so sensitive, and he wasn’t giving her any time to adjust. She felt as if she was going to drown in pleasure. “Please…please be gentle.” She pleaded once more. If he kept being as rough as he was, she didn’t think she’d be able to walk out of here any time soon.
Benimaru’s hand shot out the grab a fistful of [y/n]’s [h/c] locks, strands tangling in-between his fingers, and pulled her up as he leaned down to let his lips graze her ear.
“No.”
He could feel her clench down around him which caused his voice to come out huskier than he intended. It was hard to speak when her tight walls didn’t want to let him go. He kept one hand in her hair, and the other gripping her hip as he started drilling into her sloppily wet cunt.
“Beni…oh my…my god…fuck!” Each thrust sent jolts of electricity coursing through [y/n]’s body. It wasn’t that long ago that she had her first orgasm of the night and the second one was approaching at terrifying speeds. His brutal strokes did not help. He rocked his hips into her harshly, the sound of skin slapping against skin vibrated off the walls. He didn’t care who heard, his only focus was fucking the life out of [y/n].
Strings of curses and pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued pounding into her. The soft warm feeling of her slick walls was something he missed terribly and wondered why it took him this long to treat himself to her wanting cunt. “Fuck [y/n] how can you be this tight still?” He figured it would take a bit for her to relax around him, but she was still clutching on him for dear life, crying out his name as if it were the only word she knew.
His voice was all it took to send his lover over the edge as another orgasm racked her body. The sudden tightness made his hips stutter and he had to still himself less he spilled all that he had saved up into her right that moment. “[y/n]…shit…!”
Her orgasm was so intense that she sobbed out his name and he released her hair and stroked her back to comfort her through it. “That’s it, just relax…” Her body was slick with sweat and he was getting quite worked up himself. Strands of his raven hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat ran down his chest. His cock was still buried deep inside her, the tip pressed right up against her cervix. Her body still trembled as he began slowly rolling his hips. He was going to get one or two more out of her before he emptied himself into her. But at this rate, he might only get one because he was close to his limit.
“I can’t…Beni I can’t!” Her voice was a pitch too high and the only thing she could see were stars. She was going to go crazy if he kept moving. “Please it’s too much.”
“You wanted this so bad, you’re going to take what I give you. I’m going to give you a week’s worth of orgasms.” Benimaru began picking up the pace but his strokes were gentle this time. “You won’t be able to walk straight for days.”
[y/n]’s moans came out more as sobs and sharp cries as he fucked her. The pleasure was too intense. She was going to break if she came again. Benimaru didn’t care if he made her go crazy, this was exactly what she asked for. Both hands gripped her hips as he took a steady pace thrusting in and out of her. The tight feeling in his gut was growing and he clenched his teeth. He was determined to make her cum one more time. One hand let go of her hip to slide down between her legs and his fingers made quick work of her clit. [y/n] immediately clamped down around his cock.
“N-No please don’t! I can’t!” She tried to pry his hand away, but he was much stronger. He could feel that another orgasm was about come over her with how high her voice was getting, and how tighter she was becoming. His free arm went to scoop her up so that her back was to his chest as he rutted up into her. One arm held her as he bounced her up and down his cock while he teased her swollen pink bud.
“That’s it, come for me sweetheart.” His pace quickened to catch up to her orgasm, letting soft grunts fall from his lips. The heat building in his stomach became more intense and his strokes became sloppy as he slammed into her, hitting her cervix with each stroke.
“A-Ahh!” [y/n] screamed once more as explosive pleasure made work of her soul. She shuddered intensely, eyes rolling to the back of her head, and tongue lolling out of her mouth. Saliva ran down her chin from the corners of her mouth from sheer bliss. It only took a few more juts of his hips before all of Benimaru’s saved up cum finally burst free, his balls tightening as he came. A strained moan came out as he wrapped his arms around her and buried himself as deep as he could get, pushing up against her cervix. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and let out another moan against her skin, his hips jerking a few times. It felt like he was cumming forever as spurts of his seed coated every inch inside her and spilled out, running down his twitching balls and dribbling onto the futon.
“Shit…” He lifted her limp body off of him and more of his thick seed came gushing from her twitching hole. A whimper left her as he pulled out. He did tell himself that he was going to make a mess of her, but he didn’t consider the bed apart of the equation. Sighing softly, he gently laid her down and used his robe to clean her up, then himself, and then wiped all of his cum off his bed.
[y/n]’s body finally stopped twitching but forming words were still too much for her. “You…are…You’re mean…” She mumbled, eyes half lidded. He figured she was still off in her own little world as he laid down beside her after tossing his robe to the other side of the room. “You say that while your face shows contentment.”
“Shut up.” She weakly smacked his chest as he was pulling to covers up over them, but it only caused him to chuckle lightly.
“The twins hit harder than that.”
[y/n] could only grumble in response. Silence fell upon them and he figured she must have finally passed out. He was dozing off himself, completely spent after all the work he put into destroying her insides, when he heard his lover’s soft voice, “Beni…?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to cuddle you.” He didn’t answer right away, kind of perplexed. He didn’t know why she was saying that as if to ask him. She usually did it anyways, clinging to him almost every night she could like he wouldn’t be there when she woke up. Though it was kind of cute if she was asking.
“You can?”
There was a long moment of silence before she responded and he thought she passed out when she finally spoke, “I…I can’t move my legs…”
A surprisingly hearty laugh left Benimaru. Of all the things, he didn’t expect to fuck [y/n] that hard. They had rough sex before, but he guessed it really must have been quite some time if she couldn’t move her legs. He felt a bit satisfied as he pulled her to him and hiked her leg up and over him. Her arm snaked up his chest and to his head, fingers running through still damp hair and rested there, a content smile on her face. He kissed the top of her head and watched her doze off, following moments after. She really was a little vixen, and she always got her way.
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hk-plus-you · 4 years ago
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I suddenly remembered there’s that one dead husk (leaking void) that’s holding the Love Key when dreamnailed might be referring to the Collector and implying a relationship between them. What if void itself is also infectious? Maybe an angst scenario where Reader suddenly understands THK without having to communicate via sign and is happy about it but doesn’t realize she’s infected with the void and THK is despairing and tries to push her away? Ignore if it doesn’t make sense 🤦‍♀️
I uh... suck at endings so I hope it’s okay.
You had been with them for a while now, sharing a house in Dirtmouth and spending most of your time close with them. Relationships were still new to them, and they were still very much getting used to not having to hide their feelings or thoughts. Oftentimes they were still too afraid to talk about how they felt about something. That was okay though, you were patient with them, always reassuring them if you noticed something was off and took things slowly to give them plenty of time to adjust. They were your sweet darling knight and you’d do nearly anything to make sure they were happy and comfortable. You often reminisce about your old family, giving examples of your parents and siblings to try and explain something. You also learned decently quickly that Hollow's own family was a tricky subject. They were never able to get close to their mother and their relationship with their father was a complicated knot of emotions you wouldn't try to force them to untie all at once for you. Then their siblings were… somewhere else, a place they were incredibly hesitant to talk about. Hollow's signs were always shaky, often stopping and starting suddenly, movement smaller and much softer than usual when they were brought up. You just let the topic go their siblings all together, never really asking about them. When they approached you, asking if you could come while they visited the place of their birth to see their siblings again you knew it would be something messy. You would never have been able to imagine a place like The Abyss. Not in a thousand years in your worst nightmares would you have imagined someone having to be born in a place like this. You knew somewhat of the void, not quite by the right name, but you knew of the dark substance that seemed to only take form to hurt and kill things that weren’t also made of it. It was something that was inside Hollow, something they’d never be able to get rid of. Seeing the Abyss, seeing the piles of masks from what must be hundreds of thousands of children that practically made the walls and floor, having the bug you loved pointing at creatures practically made of shadow that attacked you two and them signing ‘sibling’? You did all you could to not gape at them in horror at what they had to endure. You came back out feeling cold and on the verge of tears. It was weird, you were more upset about it than they were. And with that came guilt. They tried to comfort you as you stood outside the entrance trying not to shake. Shouldn’t it have been the other way around? The next few days were practically spent recuperating from the visit. You went about your business as usual with them by your side but you just felt… Heavy and tired all the time. They could easily tell something was off, now doting on you at every turn. Making tea and breakfast in the morning to wake you up, helping clean up after dinner, even leaving little notes to try and brighten your day. “I’m really worried about you.” The thought shattered through your head, startling you out from your previous focus on washing a cup. Didn’t come from you, the voice was distant and quiet, spoken like a whisper that echoed in your mind. You looked around for a moment but nothing was amiss. You were just cleaning up after lunch. You would wash the dishes and Hollow would put them away. At your confusion though, they paused, eyes full of concern as they watched you. “What happened?” that same voice whispered. “Is something wrong?” Hollow signed. “I… I’m not sure. I don't know how to explain…” They leaned close, bumping their head against yours. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken you to the abyss. You’ve been acting odd since then. I shouldn’t ha-” “Is that you?” You jumped back slightly, voice louder and higher pitched than you intended. They tilted their head, “Is what me?” “The-the voice! I can hear someone in my head. It… Do you feel guilty for taking me to see where you were born?” Their eyes were wide in an instant, “Can you hear my thoughts?” “I think so? Who or what else would it be?” They shook their head vigorously at that, stepping backward as they did so, “Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!” They broke out in a run through the house and out the door. “Wait!” You tried to chase them, following them down out the door and through Dirtmouth. You barely saw the tip of their horns disappearing down the well as you passed the stage station. When you made your way down the chain they were just gone. There was no trail to follow, no way to find them again. You searched for them for several days. Was this so awful? Did you really lose them forever? The house felt empty without them there anymore. It had been the largest house in Dirtmouth, you even worked to modify it and raise the ceiling even higher so their horns wouldn’t graze it. The bed was huge to accommodate them. Each room built for larger bugs that just took up more space. Now the rooms felt empty, most of the furniture so big, something you had found almost adorable in how it made you feel small, now was intimidating and cold. You had to go back to your old house, even then it still felt lonely and miserable. Sly’s prying wasn’t helping, and Elderbug’s attempts to comfort you felt anything but helpful. Worst of all, no matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to, you couldn’t cry. Not a single little tear, no matter how much you needed that release. You ventured down the well again. Part of you still trying to find them, the other part just wanting to get lost. You made it into the city of tears, the rain cold against your shell. The guards were long gone and dead, many of their bodies impaled against the spikes that were on every roof. Others simply fell over, weapons held in vice grip in cold hands. All of its inhabitants were dead, and with them, so was the city. Well… All of them except for one relic seeker. The little shop was surprisingly warm for being in the city. Each shelf stuffed with trinkets and artifacts you had never seen, thick stacks of papers were piled in boxes behind the counter. What really caught your attention was the large window that made the entire far wall. It had a beautiful view of the city’s heart. There was a statue of Hollow in the center, surrounded by three cloaked figures. In front of it stood Hollow, staring at the stone version of themself. You left the shop immediately, making a mad dash for that statue. The words ‘please don’t leave’ repeated through your head like a mantra. They turned to you before you even reached them. They were soaked through, leaning on their old nail for support. Their head hung low as they watch you approach. “Please-I-Why did you-” Your words jumbled together, thoughts coming out in an impossible to understand slurry. “Please…” They stared at you, signing nothing as you looked up at them. “What did I do? Please just talk to me! What happened?” You looked down, tears finally welling in your eyes. “You’re sick. Sick because of me,” their voice rang in your head again. “What?” “The void. It infects everything it touches. It’s in you now. You shouldn’t be able to hear me. You shouldn’t be able to hear this. It could get worse because of me,” They shifted, their mask coming into view as they kneel before you. “So? Isn’t that a good thing? We don't have to worry about things being lost in translation anymore.” They let out a small huff. “But it’ll get worse. It always starts with hearing the void it gets so much worse.” “How do you know it’ll get worse?” “People in the abyss always got sick. No longer able to resist the call they turned the light off. The void would get stronger and consume their mind.” “But we aren’t in the abyss!” You threw your arms out in frustration. Tears falling fast with the rain. “I only got ‘sick’ when we went there. I’ve been living with you for several years and nothing happened. If I just stay away from there it won’t get worse.” “But what if it does?” They looked away from you, back at the ground. “But what if it doesn’t?” “We don’t know if it won’t. I couldn’t do that to you.” You put your head at the side of their mask, lightly pulling their gaze back, “I’ve been miserable with you gone. Please, don’t leave me alone.” You pressed your head against theirs. Eyes closed as you sobbed, “I’ve missed you so much,” Their nail clattered to the ground as they wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to their chest. “I’ve missed you too.”
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hazbincalifornia · 3 years ago
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Soiled Tea
Chapter 23: Blitzo gets home and contemplates things.
Warnings: As always, mpreg, and brief mentions of underage drinking. Generally shitty thoughts about babies.
Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!
Ao3 link
“Blitz.” There was a pounding on his door, and it took a few seconds to process that it was Loona. “You’ve been in there for like three hours. The fuck happened?”
“Piss off!” Blitzo called back, scrolling mindlessly down Voxtagram with only a pause to scrub at his sore eyes. The phone buzzed with another text from Stolas, and he swiped it up without looking like the last twelve. A growl rumbled from behind at the door, and the scratch of Loona’s claws dragged down the wood.
“Fine, don’t tell me! It’s not like I care either way, I just want to know if you’re going to start bitching at me over whatever it is!” Loona’s weight creaked the floorboards as she padded away from the door, mere moments before Blitzo’s stomach growled.
Oh. Right. He hadn’t eaten properly in days, and the little fucker was going to be feeling that.
...It’d be easier to starve the bastard if it wouldn’t hurt him too. He only realized that his fingers had dug into his stomach when the red glow fluttered in and out, and his teeth gritted as he pushed himself off the bed, the creak reminding him how badly he needed a new mattress and frame. Stolas sleeping on it the other day couldn’t have helped, and it was going to collapse under him one of these days. There was probably some kind of metaphor in there he didn’t feel like puzzling through at the moment.
Moping later. Food now. He was pretty sure they’d stocked up a few days ago, so unless Loona had eaten everything since he’d been out, he could make some cup noodles and curl back up on the bed in peace. Loona was draped over the couch with screams and gorey splatters echoing from the TV when he exited his room, and she raised an eyebrow at seeing him mere moments after he’d told her to piss off. Blitzo sighed.
“Look, I just want to bury my sorrow in some cheap-ass junk right now, got it?”
She pointed to the freezer. “Try the strawberry scoop.”
“Thanks, dear.” First he needed to get the noodles, though. Blitzo opened the cabinet, reaching for the cups before brushing against a small bag. Why did he have a bag in the…?
His fingers froze, touching the edge of the packet- it was Stolas’s tea from their café meeting, tied with a pretty little bow. He’d mostly been over the nausea hump by the time he’d gotten it so it had been stuffed in the back of the cabinet, and right now, it was leaned against a partially-opened hot chocolate packet that must have been years old. It made the wood smell both moldy and chocolatey-fresh. Over the last few weeks, the powder had seeped into the mix of the tea- and probably ruined it too. There was an ant curled up in front of the fancy little bag which was almost certainly dead, flat on its back with legs curled heavenward.
The thing was moving again, but when he smacked the side of his stomach, it turned over a little with a shudder and stopped. Progress.
His hands were shaking by the time he pulled the noodles out from next to the tea (and next to the hot chocolate, and some expired crackers, and the little baggie of rat poison he’d borrowed from Millie and Moxxie’s closet) and began boiling the water to prepare them the same way he’d done hundreds of times before. No thinking required. The TV droned on in the living room, but the volume was low and he could still hear the water dripping from the leak over the fridge and his own heartbeat.
Casually, he leaned back against the countertop as he waited for the water to soak in, then realized that angle made the bump stick out even more, and also that he’d never actually taken off Stolas’s shirt. The knot in the back was thick and hard on his back, and it pressed on his protruding vertebrae against the granite. He tapped the end of his tail next to a stray protein bar wrapper on the countertop before sweeping it towards the trash. It missed, fluttering down to the dirty floor like a dying moth. Blitzo scooped up the cup, stabbing the top with a fork before bringing it back to his room and turning on a video of some idiot screaming at video games to drown out whatever thoughts couldn't be suppressed otherwise.
Loona didn’t bother him for the rest of the night, but he could hear her slam the fridge’s door shut and pop open a can of something around ten. He peeled off the shirt and went to bed.
__________________
An hour after going to bed, he realized that the sex-sweat stuck to his skin was itchy, sticky, and smelled like shit. He managed to last approximately fifteen more minutes before dragging himself off the bed and crawling into the shower, flipping on the water and twisting it to scalding. He didn’t bother to scrub anything down, simply letting the pounding water pelt into his body until the caked sweat slid off like a bug shedding its skin.
Loona was still in the living room, playing some kind of racing game. They made eye contact for a few seconds and she sighed, chucking him a chocolate bar that she’d fished out of the cushions at some point during the night when he’d been in his room.
Sure, she couldn’t actually eat it herself anyway, but the gesture was nice, even though his teeth felt kind of fuzzy when he flopped back on the bed again after pulling on a worn-out band tee that had become a crop top at some point even before the pregnancy. 
__________________
The kid was moving. Of course they were. It wasn’t like he could ask for sleep or for them to allow him to pretend they didn’t exist for a few hours, could he? They were just a lump of stupid meat, they didn't know any better than being an annoying pest that their daddy couldn't stand. He screamed into the pillow again. It didn’t help.
__________________
Maybe he could join the circus again. He had new, better jokes now. Like his life. (That one would have gotten a laugh, or at least it would have with a crowd that wasn’t drunk off its ass- or maybe that would have been the exact audience for it. Kids were never drunk enough, and the ones whose parents shoved bottles at them to get them to shut up just puked everywhere. Their taste buds weren't developed enough yet, it just tasted like piss half the time before you got used to it. He still remembered the smell of the cheesy chips incident.)
__________________
Had Stolas planned this all along? He’d sure as fuck seemed to think that Blitzo had already known what the deal was, and maybe he’d wondered a little, but come on, the guy had been so excited, anybody would have figured that he wanted to be the one to raise it. Babies were (literally) shitty little leeches on the lives of whoever was unlucky enough to pop them out, but Stolas had been so pumped for another kid, obviously he’d wanted to raise it. This was entirely his fault. This was entirely his fault. Blitzo was a smart guy, he'd find some way to get out of this. He'd made it this far, hadn't he?
__________________
Could he get out of this? He tried to remember exactly how the deal had been phrased, but then realized that Stolas would probably yank the book back if he did manage to find some way to kill the thing without offing himself. Well, shit. That’d suck, and he’d probably lose Moxxie and Millie in the bargain, and then him and Loona would get chucked out on the concrete and have to forage for scraps until they managed to mug some particularly wealthy sinner. Could you pass on syphilis through bites? Loonie’d probably know. It was something to keep in mind as a potential threat.
__________________
Did orphanages do speed dial? No, Stolas would find it somehow. He probably had some kind of magic tracking device for occasions like this.
__________________
God damn he needed a better mattress. He could still feel the indent where Stolas had been if he rolled over just right, and he smacked at it until it felt like the rest of the bed.
It didn’t actually help that much, but at least when one spot got hot, he could roll over a little to the cooler half without sinking in.
__________________
What would it even look like? Would it be kind of cute or some mutant monstrosity? Both its dads were hot, so it would have to have something going for it if it wasn’t just some horrible moaning mess of feathers and patchy skin.
He hadn’t really minded the thought of being, like, an uncle or some shit. There for the fun parts, popping in like twice a month to jingle keys above its face and teach it to play paintball. If Barbie had squeezed something out after fucking around when they were still a duo act he could have dealt with that as long as they didn’t have to sleep in the same room- he didn’t really mind kids that much in small doses. They could be fun little chaotic monsters, even though they were judgmental as shit and smelled fear.
With this, though, he couldn’t just hand it back when he got bored, and he always, always got bored or scared or- fuck, not thinking about that.
He would try scrolling Voxtagram again, but he came across an ad for maternity wear before trying to go to sleep the first time and nearly chucked the phone. 
__________________
The only thing that kept him from rolling off the bed and grabbing a hard drink to knock him out, baby be damned, was the fact that he’d found a spot that almost was comfortable in the sheets now soaked with sweat again. Unfortunately, the clock said it was 5:13 AM.
__________________
The alarm blared directly in Blitzo’s ear and he whapped it with a pillow, slamming it off the bedside table and into the floor. It was definitely broken now from the horrid cracking noise, and he groaned, scrubbing at his eyes. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."
“Morning, sleeping ugly,” Loona said as she gargled mouthwash in the sink. She had the bags under her eyes that probably matched his and said she’d been drinking more than usual last night. Smart kid. He’d picked one that he could be a parent to without changing diapers for a reason- so he could be supportive to an actual person and not just a screaming little meat-lump that couldn’t even drink or smoke yet. Maybe Stolas could make it magically grow up so he wouldn't have to deal with that shit? “You gonna finally tell me what the fuck happened? You look like you watched the apartment blow up and you smell even worse.”
“Come on, honey, I showered-” Blitzo cleared his throat. To be fair, sex-stink didn't come off that easily when you were going at it for days, and Loona had always had a real sensitive nose. “Daddy’s maaaaaybe got a little tiny problem,” he muttered, and she raised an eyebrow.
“And that problem is? Usually, you’ll be upfront about why you’re being a whiny-“
“Apparently,” he started, and his tone made Loona’s mouth snap shut, “Stolas thought I was going to be the one actually raising the little bastard.”
“What the fuck? You two didn’t clear this up months ago?” Her claws dug into the counter as one eye twitched, and a bit of mouthwash foam dripped off her chin.
“I didn’t think we’d have to! He wanted the thing, he’d take it, that made sense!” He dragged a hand down his face, and Loona leaned back against the sink, crossing her arms. The foam hit her top, soaking in next to the left tit.
“So get rid of it.”
“I can’t, he enchanted my guts.” Blitzo snatched a butter knife smeared with long-dried jam off the table and aimed it at his stomach- moments before it touched the skin, red flashed. His hand shot to the side, preventing anymore more than a slight scratch. “I don’t even want to know what’d happen if I tried to take a pill or something and puked it up. Explode, probably.”
Loona sighed. “Well, this is fuckin’ peachy.” She crossed the kitchen, grabbing some toast that popped up, pressing more down and dropping the plain bread with a pad of butter on the side on a plate in front of him. “Toss it at an orphanage.”
“It’s gonna be a freak, it’d probably just get mauled. Imp kids are vicious, especially orphans, they’ve all gotta fight for table scraps.”
“Why would you care?” Loona shifted a little on her seat. “You get rid of it either way.”
“Stolas’d kill me.”
“He likes your dick too much, he wouldn’t. I’m not changing diapers. Why can’t he take it again?”
“He thought his wife would shank the fucker. Considering she tried to stab me, it’s probably not that far off. I’ll find some way to-” he yawned. “To pawn it off or something. Maybe we find somebody that likes exotic pets.” His head swam with visions of a shiny, gilded cage containing a little feathered imp that wore sequins and hissed at anything that got too close. He stabbed at the butter. “I don’t want this either, alright?”
“But you went along with having it anyway, and with me, you wanted-” She cut herself off and drummed her fingers against her bicep. “This is your fuck-up, I’m just saying don’t drag me into it.”
“Very reassuring, thank you,” Blitzo muttered, sarcasm thick enough to gore like it was a pig. "We have any coffee?"
"I finished it the other night. We can go to that place on Sixth before work." Loona snatched her own toast as it popped up too quickly to actually have toasted any and stuffed it in her mouth plain, tearing off a bite and chewing in a way that was reminiscent of thoughtful. “I don’t think he’d be nice enough to let you die when it pops out, and you screw up all the time and haven’t completely ruined your life yet. You can figure shit out from there. Maybe we can sell them on the black market and move out of this fucking dump, or you can flutter your eyelashes and get him to change his mind. Worst comes to worst, it's sharing your room.”
“Thanks, Loonie,” Blitzo mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Always know how to cheer me up.”
The phone buzzed, and he was about to ignore it again until he saw that it was from Millie.
“Still at Stolas’s or coming in to work today Blitz? Moxx and I miss you :)’
Blitzo wiped crumbs on his pants and groaned before typing back.
‘yeh im coimin back’
He added extra jam to the bread before shoving the rest in his mouth, and the kid kicked his bladder hard enough that he almost pissed himself right at the table.
Today was gonna be fuckin’ peachy.
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aughtpunk · 5 years ago
Text
As Mayflies
“Why are you here?”
Aziraphale looked up from his tea and met Anathema’s steady gaze. There was a gleam in her eyes. One that often appeared in the eyes of humans who have important questions. He placed his cup back down on the saucer and tried to play it cool. “You invited us over for tea, my dear.”
Anathema’s nose twitched. Oh dear. “That is not what I meant and you know it. Why are you here?”
“Ah. Well. You see, Crowley and I were on The Garden’s walls, expecting to be picked up at any moment when suddenly--”
“Aziraphale.” Oh dear oh dear. Aziraphale usually only heard that stern tone in the voice of the upper management. Anathema did remind him a bit of a younger Michael, before The Fall had hardened his heart. “Why are you, an immortal being who has been alive on Earth for millions of years--”
“Six thousand, the Earth’s only six thousand years old.”
That stopped Anathema’s train of thought long enough for Aziraphale to get another sip of tea. It was nice of Anathema to invite him and Crowley over for tea. The weather was absolutely perfect and he was already determined to get Newt’s lavender scone recipe before they left. Crowley had forgone tea and was currently further down the yard playing with Adam and his friends. He wasn’t sure what game they were playing but it seemed to involve chasing after Newt while screaming ‘with milk’ in French. 
Anathema took a deep breath and continued, “You’re an immortal being that’s been around for a very long time, and I imagine now that everything is sorted out you and your husband will be here for much longer.”
Aziraphale’s stomach fluttered at ‘your husband’. He could correct her, be decided not to. “Personally between the two of us I’m hoping for at least another six thousand years. Crowley says two thousand but I do think he’s low-balling it.” 
“So why are you spending time with us mortals?”
Aziraphale was taken aback. Usually when a human sniffed them now (very rarely, the last one had been dear Oscar and all he had been interested in was heavenly gossip. He found it rather hilarious.) their questions were about the afterlife and that sort of thing. “Well dear, as I said before, you did invite us over for tea.”
“But, but we must be nothing to you in the grand scheme of things, right? Your husband mentioned that he once took a seventy year nap! That’s a lifetime! And he spent it in bed! What’s a lifetime to us is a mere boring Sunday afternoon to you. We’re nothing more than mayflies buzzing long your path. The fact that you’ve decided to sit down and have tea with us is nothing short of baffling.”
Across the yard Aziraphale heard the telltale hiss of Crowley turning into a snake. Newt’s loud scream and the cheers of the children confirmed this to the point that he didn’t even bother to look over. “And what do you think we should be doing instead?”
“I dunno. Traveling the world? Exploring the bottom of the sea? Traveling through the stars? Enjoying Earth before it gets taken over by cockroaches? There must be a better use of your time than being here with us.”
Aziraphale smiled, the love in his body pouring out in waves. He did love humanity so much, and Anathema here was a prime example of why. But he knew she wouldn’t accept an answer so simple as that so he instead called out, “Darling!”
“Yessssssssss angel?” Crowley hissed from across the yard. He was playfully wrapped around Newt and the kids and was pretending to crush them to death. Well he knew the kids would be safe at least, Newt’s safety might be a gamble. Crowley untangled himself and slithered over to the pair. 
“Crowley darling, do you remember that winter we spent in the Himalayas?”
One might think it would be impossible for a snake to look ill, yet Crowley somehow managed. “I remember the yak tea. And the yak milk. Yaks. Lots of yaks. Why?”
“What was the name of that dear woman who made us that wonderful Shyakpa? The stew with the hand-pulled noodles?”
“Dawa Yangzum Ssssssherpa.” Crowley nodded his snake head as if double-checking his own memory, “Lovely woman. She gave me her best shawl, said I would need it for the trip down. It’s still in my linen closet somewhere.”
Aziraphale nodded before asking “And when was that, my love?”
Crowley made an odd snake-noise at that nickname but barreled through anyway. “Eleventh, no, twelfth century. Bit after the Normandy invassssion. Any reasssssson?”
“None at all darling, just reminiscing. Oh, and I wanted to distract you long enough for Adam to sneak up on you.”
“Wh--” Crowley was brutally cut off by four children pouncing him at once as Newt cheered in the distance. What followed would no doubt a vicious war of tickling and snake-grappling. Possibly even hugs from the children. Truly a fate worse than death for the Serpent of Eden.
Aziraphale turned back to Anathema and smiled. “You are correct, of course. Human lives are barely a blip on the celestial radar. But you must understand that neither you nor Newt nor the children are mayflies to us. Certainly not bugs of any type. You are the rainbow after the storm. You are the frost before the dawn. You are a wave of ocean foam and the flashes of light sung between fireflies. You are mortal, yes. But you are beautiful. Far more beautiful than the glory of Heaven or the delights of The Garden. And one day far in the future, when London is nothing more than memory engraved on a museum plaque, Crowley and I will look back and think fondly of you all and this wonderful summer day.”
“Oh.” Anathema whispered. Aziraphale became suddenly interested in his cup of tea to give the poor thing a moment to compose herself. A bit of divinity may have slipped out near the end there. She took a hearty swig of tea herself before finally getting out a weak “Thank you.” What she was thankful for she didn’t say. 
Aziraphale smiled, “Think nothing of it at all my dear.”
They watched the children and Newt battle against the suspiciously much-larger snake in silence until Anathema found her voice again. “Wait. If the Earth’s only six thousand years old then what’s the deal with the dinosaurs?”
“Bit of a red herring. Something to throw humans off of our scent while we got everything ready for the end. You know, I knew the angel in charge of placing the fake skeletons in tar pits and such. Wonderful chap. Great sense of humor. Kept putting fancy wrist-watches on dinosaurs and posing them with ‘End Nuclear War’ signs. ”
“Oh?” Anathema asked as if Aziraphale was telling a perfectly normal story about an old coworker and not something that went against all her scientific beliefs. . 
“He did get in trouble with the head office for that, though. I hear Gabriel still grumbles about the amount of paperwork that caused to this day.”
“Was Gabriel the prick at the end of the world?”
“Oh yes.”
“And the um, fly-person?”
“Beelzebub. Crowley’s old boss.”
“Ah. That explains the flies.” 
Aziraphale soaked in the moment. The warmth of the tea, the crumbs of the scones, the sound of children’s laughter and his sorta-husband’s fake scary hisses as he pretended to eat Newt. In his mind he traced every petal of every flower and every sweet gust of wind that blew by. He would remember that tea party along with all the other tea parties Anathema would invite him and Crowley to. He’ll remember them long after the Earth has settled into silence and he and Crowley leave to explore the stars. But that was later. This infinitesimal moment of wonder was now.
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“Your husband isn’t really going to kill and eat Newt, is he?”
“He better not. I still need that scone recipe.”
5K notes · View notes
elrielllll · 4 years ago
Note
Literally all those prompts for Elriel 😂😂😂 I can never get enough of them!! Xx
Sooooo, I’m interpreting this as you giving me free reign yes? Okay good. So I may or may not have got a tiny little bit carried away. Oopsies. Anyway, I went for these ones:
#18 “If I asked you to stay, would you?” and #4 “You make me feel alive for the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.” (or a modification if those two cause I forgot the exact words lol)
Elain had no clue what was going on. She’d turned up at the town house about mid afternoon to start making tea for everyone after spending the whole day in her garden, expecting them all to be there- well, definitely Feyre and Mor, but no one was there.
Elain took a step inside frowning, they were usually making a significant dent in the wine by now, but not today. She took a hesitant step in, the house eerily silent. After a few more paces she slipped, arms pinwheeling before she caught herself on the wall, pressing a hand to her chest once she’d righted herself.
Looking down she gingerly lifted her skirts, peering down to see what had caused to her loose her balance.
Blood.
There was a trail of it through the house, leading up to the stairs where bloody hand prints were pressed into the wooden banister. Elain heaved slightly, hand at her chest moving to clamp down over her mouth. She took a slow breaths in an attempt to calm herself, it backfired as she gagged, the scent of blood overwhelming her.
She lurched forward to the foot of the stairs and reached her hand out to steady herself. When Elain slowly peeled her hand away from the banister she turned it towards her, shaking slightly. It was covered in blood.
She wiped it on her dress quickly, before she had more time to think about whose blood it was and how it had got there. Her eyes flicked back to the door she’d just come through, tempted to run and come back when she was sure it was safe.
They were all taking care of it, she was positive, it was probably why she couldn’t hear anything: Rhys’s sound barrier. But as compelled to leave as she felt, she couldn’t quite bring herself to turn away as thoughts flooded her head, each more disturbing than the last. What if it was an enemy? What if it was one of her friends? What if it was Cassian? She grown attached to the big friendly bear, as she called him, and she would hate it if he was hurt. Elain worried at her lip as panic set in.
What if it was Feyre? Elain slowly climbed the first few steps, watching out for the blood. What if it was Azriel?
Elain ran the rest of the way up the stairs, not Azriel, it couldn’t be Azriel.
Well of course it could, if she was honest it was most likely him, especially in his line of work. But he was usually never this badly wounded. They had made a little ritual, him and her, after his missions he would seek her out, come into the room and perch on the end of her bathtub, waiting for her. She’d always be there in a matter of seconds, sitting by him and tending to all his little cuts and bruises, no matter if it ranged from a slice of a sword to a splinter, Elain would clean him up. It gave a her a sense of peace, knowing that she was helping him, that he was okay.
Elain had a feeling that Azriel liked her taking care of him, making up for a lack of it in his childhood. It had taken her a while to get him to relax and just sit still, but he had eventually, watching her with his intense gaze.
So as Elain hurried across the hall to the room at the very end, Azriels room, she couldn’t help but feel tears welling in her eyes, before it was replaced quite suddenly with anger, boiling hot, tinting her vision slightly red. She hoped he’d killed who ever had hurt him. And she hoped it wasn’t quick.
She was just speculating, she thought quickly, it might not even be him.
She rattled the handle impatiently, banging her hand on the door when no one answered. Elain knew it was terribly rude, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Hello!” She shouted, and Elain was sure it was the loudest she’d ever raised her voice. She gave up slapping the door and began pounding on it with her fist, she would break down this goddamn door if she had to.
After a few more shouts Elain began ramming into the wood with her shoulder. She stopped after a second, grimacing and rubbing her shoulder.
That’s not going to work Elain.
She took a step back surveying the door before her gaze snagged on the hinges. She rushed forward to loosen them, opening the door backwards. Elain flung it wide open, took one look inside and was frozen to the spot.
It was Azriel.
They were all stood around him,faces grave and soaked in his blood. Madija was hunched over  him, sweating as she threw blood soaked rag after blood soaked rag on the floor. And as for Azriel...
She had never been more grateful for Rhys’s sound barrier as she saw his face twisted into a scream, grasping the little table next to him so hard it splintered in his hand. Elain gasped when she saw his wound, sliced open along his side multiple times, so close together they looked like one, and the long jagged line just below his collarbone that she had fixed up last night was split wide open.
No one had noticed she was here yet so she just stood, shaking violently in the door way. She lost track of how long she was there for before Azriel’s pain addled eyes locked on hers. His gaze stayed there for a while, just staring. Elain wasn’t sure if he was really seeing her or looking straight through her.
She realised it was the former as he slowly turned to Mor, speaking between his laboured breaths.
Get her out.
Mor turned towards Elain and walked over to her, placing her hands on Elain’s shoulders and walking her backwards out of the room, door shutting with a definitive click before Elain could gather her thoughts enough to demand to stay. She stood staring motionlessly at the door, hands hanging limply at her sides, the image still before her eyes.
Slowly, she came back to herself, hand curling into fists. She was not leaving. Elain turned and sank down by the wall next to the door, folding her arms. Granted, it wasn’t the most dignified position, but Elain was sure she was in for a long night.
The tears built up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, but she didn’t make an effort to, just sat there, letting them roll down her face to splash onto her dress. What was she going to do if he died? Elain didn’t think she could manage that, he was her best friend. He was... Elain grappled to find a word, she didn’t know what he was to her...it was just more.
Elain had never felt this strongly before, about anyone, and she didn’t quite know how to place her emotions. She knew that she liked his smile, his little laugh, she knew that she liked when he sunned his wings in the garden, an activity that required him to be shirtless, and she knows that when he comes up to her with a little bug on his finger that he found, her heart melts.
She knew that it wasn’t friendship that she felt, she had passed that stage long ago, and she had wanted to tell him so badly, but every time she worked up the courage to do so, he was gazing adoringly at Mor, and she couldn’t do it.
Elain buried her head into knees, sobbing in earnest now as she though of how he might die and not know, how she never even got a chance, all because she was scared.
She would tell him. If he got through this she would tell him, she silently promised herself, even if it killed her to do so. If he survived, she would do anything.
Elain must have dozed off at one point, her neck was stiff and sore when she woke and she winced, rubbing it with the heel of her palm to ease the knots out. Her eyes widened when she realised what had woken her up- she could hear what was happening in the room. She jumped to her feet, waiting impatiently for the door to open.
When it finally did Elain could feel herself itching to shove past them all to see him, but she refrained, barely. She scanned their faces as they walked out, no new tears, only looks of relief. Elain let loose her own breath she’d been holding since she saw Azriel on the bed, thank god he would be okay.
They filed out, barely paying her a second glance, to tired and preoccupied with washing the blood off them, except Cassian. He came to a stop in front of her.
“He’s asking for you,” he said quietly, a worn smile on his face. Elain nodded, gratefully taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Go to sleep Cassian, and eat something as well.”
Cassian gave her a little nod and squeezed her hand right back, before giving a jerk of his head, motioning for her to go inside. She took a deep breath, smoothing her dress down and patting her hair to make sure she looked presentable. She was flustered all of a sudden, nervous maybe. Elain thought that it most likely had something to do with what she’d promised herself earlier.
Yes, that was definitely it.
“Elain. Stop fussing and go.” Cassian gave her a little nudge, looking for all the world like he knew something she didn’t. She cast him a little warning glance before she turned to go inside, he was up to something, she was sure of it.
When Elain saw Azriel a sense of calm flooded through her, almost making her collapse on the spot, she hadn’t realised how tightly wound up she’d been until now. He was asleep, lying ridged in the bed like it hurt to relax. His shadows were no where to be seen, not surrounding him as usual and it was odd to see him so bare, but they couldn’t be near him when he healed. She wasn’t too sure why, but Azriel had mentioned it once or twice in passing.
A sheen of sweat clung to him, face shiny with it and jet black locks of hair were plastered to his neck and forehead. Elain moved forwards, taking a seat on the bed next to him, and she really couldn’t help herself when she reached over to brush them back, running her hands through his damp hair.
There was no one here to stop her, it was just them. Plus he wasn’t awake, so technically she wasn’t breaking any rules. Elain winced at the thought of her earlier statement to herself, but she couldn’t deny the warmth that flooded through her when she realised that she wouldn’t have to hide how she felt anymore.
She hopes.
Elain stood to fetch a cloth that she quickly rinsed in cold water before sitting back at his side to clean him off. She took to smoothing it over his face and neck, as she often did in their little meets.
Azriel shifted in his sleep and stirred slightly.  Elain held her breath, praying that he’d stay asleep just a little longer, so that she wouldn’t have to face what she’d done out in the hall, but she had no such luck. He slowly opened his eyes as if they were impossibly heavy, he blinked at her weakly, settling that focused gaze on her. Elain’s lower lip wobbled as she saw how much pain he was in and she couldn’t resist the urge to place a hand on his cheek, running her thumb slowly over his cheek bone.
Elain looked down when she felt something touch her hand and she saw his shaky fingers reaching out to brush against her skin. It was a reflex when Elain clasped his hand tightly in hers. At that Azriel let out a breath, leaning into the hand that was cupping his face.
He turned slightly and let his lips brush against her palm. Elain’s breath caught in her throat, the little touch sending tingles through her.
He looked up her contentedly, like he might be perfectly happy only ever looking at her for the rest of his life. Any reasonable or rational thought floated out of her head, leaving her to look right back at him unabashedly.
Azriel was the first to break the silence, voice hoarse from the screams earlier, Elain’s gut twisted painfully at that thought, but it was soon pushed to the back of her mind by his words.
“If I asked you to stay, would you?”
“Yes,” Elain nodded, eyes stinging with tears for what felt like the hundredth time today, “always,” she promised. He nodded slowly and she saw him relax into the bed, seeming calmer now.
“What happened?” Elain asked softly.
He inhaled, “nothing to concern yourself with.” He gave her a sleepy smile, one that suggested it was at ease. it was then Elain decided that it was one that she would very much like to wake up to every morning. She quickly flushed at such a thought and tried to turn her mind to what was at hand, and not think about her in a bed with Azriel.
Elain made a little disapproving sound that he didn’t tell her, it was good for him more than anything, and Elain had proven time and time again that she was happy to listen. Even if she did wake up from nightmares almost every night, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I know,” he said, head lolling on the pillow, “it’s a story for another time my love.” Elain caught herself smiling slightly, loving the name he called her. My love.
She was sure he wasn’t sure he knew that he’d even set it, he was probably delirious with pain and medicine. That sobered Elain up quickly, pulling her out of her daydreams.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” She asked, scrutinising him carefully, making sure he didn’t lie to her.
“Yes,” he admitted, “but it’s eased.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Elain couldn’t keep the desperation out of her voice, she hated seeing him hurt.
“Just stay.” The words came out of his mouth without the usual careful consideration that the shadowsinger often exhibited, he wouldn’t speak any words that hadn’t been run through his filter. Now he didn’t seem to think, just spoke. It was startlingly honest for the stoic male Elain had come to care about, and she wondered if this was how he was when he fully dropped the mask, not making her work for every crack he let loose.
But what worried Elain was that she was sure he had no clue what he was saying, and would most likely regret it later. She should stop him from talking, but she was struggling to deny herself this.
He fixed her with that look again, that one that always dragged her out of her thoughts.
“You know, I could love you Elain.”  
Elain froze. Had he really just said that? She slowly looked down to him, expecting to see him almost passed out, but his eyes we’re remarkably sure and focused. That’s when the weight of what he said hit her.
“What?” She breathed.
“I could love you.” He stated again simply. “Not like a sister, but more like a partner. Like a...wife,that’s what it’s called over the wall yes?” He asked and she nodded dumbly. One corner of his mouth twitched up, “yes, that sounds good. I could love you.”
He’d said it again and what got her most was the way he said it with absolute certainty.
“But what about Mor?” Elain blurted out, it was all she could think to say.
“I’ve not thought of her like that for a while now,” he said seriously and Elain felt the barriers around her heart lower slightly.
She grappled for words for a moment, trying to sort out her feelings, but before she could say anything, he carried on.
“But it’s silly to think that you could love me too, even sometime in the future because you are incredible. You are so happy, you look at the world in this way that I have never thought of before, and it’s refreshing. You wouldn’t, you shouldn’t look twice at someone like me, I’ll only drag you down,” he took a ragged breath, “you deserve better.”
Elain was stunned as to how he could even think that, and she rushed to reassure him, “no no no no Azriel. No, that’s not true at all. I need you, I need your outlook on life to know that it’s okay to watch life pass through the shadows, to know that you don’t have to be the loudest in the room to still be valued.” Elain swallowed, working up every ounce of courage she has, “I care about you too. I think I could love you. I know I could love you.”
Azriel’s throat bobbed, and he squeezed her hand hard, “Elain you don’t understand, you make me feel alive for the first time ever, like... like-”
“Like I can breathe,” Elain finished softly and she watched as Azriel’s eyes widened and he tensed, as if he’d just realised everything he’d said since she’d entered.
“Azriel it’s okay,” she soothed, “I’m right here,” she squeezed his hand as tight as he was hers. He was still looking at her like he didn’t quiet believe it, and it was breaking her heart. He opened his mouth to say something but she shushed him, “shh, I know. I know.”
He still looked completely terrified, and Elain gave her best reassuring smile, “Lets go slow, yes?”
“Yes,” he agreed, eyeing her warily, but not loosening his grip one bit. Elain shuffled on the bed, moving herself so that she was lying down and she gingerly rested her head on his chest, making sure to avoid any injuries. Elain felt his breath catch, and she waited a while before she felt his warm arm wrap around her, holding her to him tightly. She sighed, snuggling into him and his breathing caught. His hand carefully tickled up and down her back and Elain thought this was what heaven was like.
“Did you mean it?” Azriel asked quietly, voice even rougher than when he just woke up.
“Every word. Did you?”
“All of it.”
~~~~~~
Okayyy so thanks for reading! Also I was thinking about writing the first time that Elain heals Azriel after a mission that I mentioned in this one if anyone would be interested ...
I promise it will be better than this lol.
Tags: 
@sleeping-and-books @meowsekai @awkward-avocado-s @superspiritfestival @abraxos-is-toothless @stars-falling @thesirenwashere @queen-of-glass @nite0wl29 @negativenesta @illyrian-bookworm @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @b00kworm @tswaney17 @bamchickawowow @qoingcrazy @lovemollywho @tyheronthorn @gorl-power @fucking-winchester-trash @keshavomit @a-happybird @mysweetvilllain @captainthefangirlofhp @woodland-mist @maastrash @azriel-archeronn @empress-ofbloodshed @judexcardanxgreenbriar @dreamerforever-5
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kinglazrus · 5 years ago
Text
Crystal Heart
Phic phight 2020
Submitted by @that-dumbass-on-a-horse: Ghost sickness. Maddie and Jack try to fix it, but make it worse instead
Summary: When a ghost boy becomes a ghost man, his body goes through certain changes. And when his parents find out and try to help him, they inevitably almost kill him in the process. Almost.
Warnings: non-graphic body horror (melting)
Word count: 7248
I had to look up pictures of blood cells under a microscope and that was actually super cool. I love it when fanfiction involves fun research
As soon as Maddie saw the green flush on Danny's cheeks, she knew what it was. Some dastardly ectoplasmic pathogen from the Ghost Zone had infected her baby boy. It must have been from all the time he spent in the lab. Too many times, Maddie had caught him sneaking up from the basement with a sheepish look on his face. Occasionally, Sam and Tucker were with him. Maddie would have to get them tested for whatever illness currently afflicted Danny.
"I'm telling you, I feel fine," Danny said, looking anything but fine. He lay in bed, cheeks flushed an unearthly green. Sweat shone on his forehead.
"Good try, mister. Maybe I'll believe you when you stop covering your mouth like you have to puke," Maddie chastised her son. Standing with her hand on her hip, she shook her head. She had heard of teens faking illness to get out of school; it was so touching to know her boy wasn't like that.
"Mom, really, I'm fine," Danny insisted. He covered his mouth as he spoke, earning a very pointed glare from Maddie.
"I've already called the school. They know you're staying home today. Don't worry, your father and I will get you fixed up."
Panic and desperation filled Danny's eyes. It warmed Maddie's heart to see it. Who knew he cared so much about his classes? With how his grades had been dropping over the past year, she thought he had given up on school.
After pinning Danny with one last stern look, Maddie left his room and headed down to the kitchen. There should be a few packages of chicken noodle soup in the pantry for her to make. They usually kept a well-stocked supply dry soups, pastas, and other side dishes for the days dinner came to life. Maddie scanned the shelves, dragging her fingers across the various boxes, and grinned when she found the one she wanted. Pulling it out, she saw there was only one package left. It looked like they would need to restock soon.
Maddie quickly set to work making the soup, throwing the mixture of noodles and powder into a pot of water, turning the stove on low to simmer, and setting the oven timer to remind herself when to check it. With that done, she headed down to the lab.
Jack was hunched over his workstation, beakers laid out on the counter in front of him. Bubbling mixtures of various consistencies and colours filled the beakers, steam rising from more than a few even though they weren't set over heat.
"Danny's staying home today," she told Jack. "I think he caught a ghost bug."
"No son of mine is gonna get taken down but a ghost! I'll squash it like a fly!"  declared.
Maddie smiled fondly and shook her head. "No, Jack. Not a bug ghost, a ghost bug. He's sick."
"Oh. Well, we'll squash that sickness anyway! And then we'll squash the ghost that gave it to him! And then we'll squash Phantom!"
"You said it, honey!" She kissed Jack on the cheek before heading to her own station. Taking a test sample kit out from the cupboard, she pulled out a Fenton Swab and a Fenton Tube. They were nearly identical to the standard cotton swab and sample tube they were modelled after, except the Fenton versions were designed to withstand ectoplasm's acidic properties. They also had the word Fenton on them.
"Whatcha doing, Mads?" Jack asked, briefly looking up from his work.
"I want to rule out environmental factors. Danny spends so much time down here, and he never wears a jumpsuit since his got misplaced. We need to make sure the portal doesn't contain any contagions that could make others sick," she explained. Sticking her thumb against the DNA scanner, she opened the portal doors.
Green light spilled over the lab floor, rippling over the metal panels. Carefully, Maddie took the Fenton Swab and stuck it in the portal's swirling mass. It wasn't like sticking something in water. The ectoplasm in the portal had no resistance. Even though it looked opaque from afar, up close it more resembled a colourful mist. Swirling her hand around, she dragged the swab through the ectoplasm, coating it thoroughly.
It was mesmerizing. Despite how long she and Jack had studied ectoplasm for, she still didn't understand how its state of matter worked. It could go from solid to gas in an instant, or hang in the air like a fog and become liquid the moment it touched something. Sometimes it took minutes to dissipate, other times it took hours. There were so many contradicting circumstances, it was fascinating.
Perhaps ectoplasm was its own state of matter that couldn't be defined by Earthly physics.
Maddie waited until ectoplasm was practically dripping off the cotton end before pulling her hand back out, dropping the swab into the sample tube. Analyzing it would be easy enough. They had studied samples from the portal before, but ectoplasm's most consistent trait was how inconsistent it was. You could take two ectoplasmic samples from a single entity one week apart and their surface properties would be completely different.
The one core characteristic was a unique pattern of crystallization, visible with careful observation under a microscope. Each ghost seemed to have their own pattern. In some cases, they were highly personal. The ghost who liked to shout about boxes all the time had a square crystallization pattern.
If she could isolate the ectoplasm making Danny sick, she could compare the pattern with the portal and see if they matched. If they did, then she could study the rest of the portal sample and see what was making Danny sick.
Maddie tapped her foot as she placed a drop of ectoplasm on a slide and put it under the microscope, setting the rest of the sample aside for later testing.
"No need for that!"
Maddie paused just before putting her eye to the lens, turning to face Jack instead.
He grinned widely at her, holding out one of the beakers from his desk. "I've got our solution right here!" He wiggled the beaker. The thick purple substance inside barely jiggled. "It's the newest version of ecto-dejecto. This time, it actually works."
Reaching out, Jack took the sample Maddie had put aside. He stuck the swab into the purple goo; it stayed standing upright when he let go. The goo around the swab hissed and steamed.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Maddie asked.
"Uh, maybe?"
Green bubbles bloomed across the top layer of goo, quickly expanding upward. Jack yelped and dropped the beaker as the ectoplasm foamed over his hand. The beaker shatterd as soon as it hit the ground, glass shards going flying. The goo kept expanding, fizzing and frothing as it changed from purple to green, growing until it was a mound as big as a medium sized dog. With a few final hisses, the ectoplasm settled.
"It doesn't work yet, but it will," Jack said, confidence unshaken.
"I know it will," Maddie said. She had complete faith in her husband. Jack might bumble around sometimes, but his mind was truly brilliant. Where other people looked at things and saw only what was on the surface, Jack saw everything. He always excelled more on the chemistry side of things, even if he had a few mishaps every now and then.
It's what made them such a good team. Maddie handled the math, physics, and most of the weapon construction while Jack handled the ideas. She brought his head out of the clouds when he went too far. He raised her up so she could see all the possibilities and push them farther.
"Well, hey, I've got more ectoplasm to test with now," Jack said. He bent down and prodded the quivering mass.
In the silence, Maddie heard the oven beeping upstairs.
"Oh, shoot, Danny's soup." Maddie leapt out of her seat. She snatched a spare swab and sample tube from the counter and took off for the stairs. "Don't forget to clean up the glass!" She tossed the words over her shoulder, hoping Jack heard her.
On the stove, the pot was boiling over. Water hissed as it doused the element, steam and smoke clouding over the stove. Maddie grabbed a tea towel and shoved the pot off the element, accidentally splashing more water out.
"Oh, no," she grumbled, shutting off the stove. She took in the mess with a defeated sigh. There was more soup on the counter than there was in the pot. The timer must have gone off some time ago, or she had set it for too long. Tossing the tea towel over the spilled soup, she left it there to soak up some of the mess and went to the fridge instead, hoping they had something she could give Danny.
Her prospects were slim. Some questionable lunch meat that was about to expire. A door full of condiments. A ceramic pot that rattled every few seconds. Its lid was tied down to keep the reanimated fruit cocktail from escaping. Overall, the fridge was woefully empty. Maddie really needed to go grocery shopping.
She ended up taking a carton of orange juice from the door, pouring a glass, and decided Danny would have to settle for this until she came back from the store.
"Danny, sweetie?" Maddie asked, gently knocking on his door. It creaked open. Peeking inside, she saw his empty bed. A clatter from the bathroom drew her attention. "Oh, Danny." She shook her head, setting the glass of orange juice down on his dresser, and headed down the hall.
The door was shut. Soft white light shone underneath it, not nearly as bright as it should have been. One of the lights above the mirror must have burnt out again. Gently, she knocked and called Danny's name.
"Uh, just a minute!" Danny said.
The light under the door flared, then settled. Maddie heard the toilet flushing, followed by a quick burst of water from the tap. Finally, the knob turned, the lock clicking out of place, and Danny eased the door open. He kept one hand over his mouth.
"Hey, Mom. What brings you here?" he asked. Behind his palm, Maddie saw his lips twitch into a smile.
"You do, young man. I told you to stay in bed," Maddie said, crossing her arms.
"Bathroom. Had to go. You know how it is," Danny said. Using his elbow, he bumped the door open wider, his other hand pressed against his head. He squeezed past Maddie and shuffled backward toward his room. "But bed sounds like a great idea. In fact, I think I'll have a nap. No need to check on me or anything. You don't even need to open the door!"
He chuckled weakly, sidling into his room, and kicked the door shut.
Maddie wasn't sure what to make of all that. Danny hadn't even shut off the bathroom light. Reaching through the doorway to do just that, she noticed something odd. The toilet lid was down. Danny had the habit of leaving it up, no matter how much she reminded him not to. It was a small detail, but an curious one nonetheless. She decided not to dwell on it. More than likely, he was finally starting to build up the habit.
Maddie was halfway down the stairs when she remembered she needed a spit sample from Danny. Heading back up, she paused on the landing when she heard Danny talking, voice low.
"I don't know what's wrong." He sounded panicked. "I've only been awake for a couple hours but it's getting worse."
Maddie stopped. Instead of pushing Danny's door open, she crept forward, holding her ear against it. While she would never let Danny get away with eavesdropping, as his concerned mother, she had the right to listen in on his conversation.
"I don't know. My mouth was kind of hurting yesterday, but that's a whole other thing, right?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Tucker! I'm being serious here! First it was the blush, and then it was my hair." Maddie frowned at that. "What's next? My eyes?"
Danny's dresser rattled—she hoped he saw the orange juice—and he groaned. "Yep, it's the eyes now!"
Maddie really should go in there. Her baby was clearly panicking and needed her help.
"I don't care about my teeth!"
In a minute. She would go in, in a minute.
"Ugh, fine, whatever." Maddie heard Danny shuffling around, drawers opening and closing. It lasted for a full thirty seconds before he spoke again. "Okay, I got it. Happy now?" His words slurred slightly, as if he wasn't closing his mouth all the way.
Deciding enough was enough, Maddie pushed the door open without knocking. "Sorry, Danny, I forgot that I... needed..." The excuse died on her lips as she got a good look at Danny.
Green swirled in his eyes and a white streak cut through his hair. Danny spit out the large Saturn pendant of his chewable necklace and whispered into his phone. "Tucker, I got to go." Tossing his phone back into his bed, he stepped forward and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Mom, I can explain."
"Oh, my poor baby, you're so much worse than I thought," Maddie said. She rushed forward, taking Danny's face in her hands, and turned his head to the side so she could examine the streak in his hair. His bangs were white from root to tip. Using her thumb and forefinger, she pulled his eye open wide and examined his iris.
It looked like the infection was spreading. She thought it was a simple case of contamination, but that wouldn't do this. The green blush, yes, but changing his hair and eyes? Altering his physical and chemical makeup? This was serious.
"I'm sorry, Danny. Your nap has to wait. You're coming down to the lab with me now." Taking Danny by the wrist, Maddie pulled him out of his room.
"It's really not what you think!" Under his breath, he added, "I hope it's not what I think, either."
"Danny, your father and I are experts. Whatever you think it is, it isn't. Your dad is working on a cure right now. But at the rate this is accelerating, I can't let you out of my sight. I have to check all your vitals and keep detailed notes about how this progresses," Maddie said. "This is nothing like the ghost flu your father and I had."
"I still say that was just a regular flu."
"Now is not the time for your sass." Maddie dragged Danny all the way down to the lab.
Glass no longer littered the floor, although the blob of ectoplasm still sat beside Maddie's chair. Pulling the chair out, she pushed Danny into the seat and wheeled him across the lab to the medical station. Setting him out of the way in the hollow of the safety shower, Maddie opened the cupboard beneath the eyewash station and pulled out what she needed.
Beyond the run of the mill first-aid kit, the lab had a few tools you would find in a standard health clinic.
Danny squirmed and tried to leave his seat a few times, but Maddie kept pushing him back down. She didn't let him stand until she had taken his vitals, checked his eyes, nose, and throat, and gave him a thorough physical exam.
"Mom!" Danny whined when Maddie lifted shirt. She ignored him, looking over his body for signs of discolouration. There weren't any, yet. She suspected it was only a matter of time.
"Jack, how's that ecto-dejecto coming?" she asked.
"Almost got it!"
"Ecto-dejecto?" Danny paled.
Maddie sent him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. We're fixing the recipe so that it destabilizes the ectoplasm rather than makes it stronger. It will make it easier for your body to flush out the toxins." Her eyes dropped to the pendant around Danny's neck, his conversation with Tucker returning to mind. "What was Tucker talking about with your teeth?"
She had only spared them a brief glance when checking Danny's through, more concerned with hidden rashes or pustules.
"You were spying on me?" Danny's cheeks flushed in anger. "So not cool!"
"Danny, I'm your mother and I'm worried about you. You're sick."
"I'm fine! That doesn't make it okay to spy on me."
"You'll understand when you're older."
Danny tipped his head back and groaned.
"Now, open your mouth."
Danny squinted at her, which earned him nothing but a motherly glare. Stubborn but relenting, he slowly opened his mouth. Maddie rolled her eyes at her son's antics. Once his mouth was open wide enough, she checked his teeth. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.
"What's bothering you about them?" she asked. The hair and eyes were undoubtedly ghost-related matters. So far, Maddie was inclined to agree with Danny that his mouth pains were simply a coincidence.
"My gums just started hurting yesterday. Like there was a lot of pressure or something," Danny explained.
"And the necklace?"
"Chewing on something kind of helped, I guess. That was the first time I tried it, but it felt okay."
Something about that resonated with Maddie. She leaned back, frowning. It sounded like what happened when children teeth. When Danny was a baby growing in his teeth for the first time, he chewed on everything to make it stop hurting. Maddie had to throw out so many of his stuffed animals because he chewed on them until they were too dirty to keep.
"Can you pull your lips down?"
Danny obliged, raising his chin so Maddie could get a better look. The gums looked fine, no bumps or bulges, and his teeth were still in line.
"Top lip," she said.
Hooking his finger under his lip, Danny pulled it up. Maddie's eyes widened immediately. On the left side, between his canine tooth and lateral incisor, the sharp tip of a new tooth poked out of his gums. It looked like it was growing over his other teeth.
"You have an extra tooth," she declared.
"A what?" Danny shouted. He ran his fingers along his top teeth, pausing to feel the new one growing in.
"It's fine," Maddie said, waving off his concern. "Your father had one growing behind his incisor in college. He just had to get it removed. It's not related to whatever this," she gestured to his hair and eyes, "is."
"Oh." Danny deflated, looking relieved, although he didn't take his finger out of his mouth. He kept touching the new tooth. Swivelling in the chair, he leaned toward the wall, examining his reflection in the shining surface.
"Mads! I did it!" Jack's heavy steps thudded across the lab as he pounded over.
Content that Danny was occupied and wouldn't slip away the second she took her eyes off him, Maddie focused on Jack. He bounced on his heels, holding out a test tube filled to the brim with a yellow-tinged liquid.
"It's all about using the ectoplasm's natural properties against itself. If we can lock it in a liquid state, the ectoplasm loses hold of its form and liquifies! Just watch." He scurried back to Maddie's workstation.
With a careful tip of his hand, he poured a single drop of ecto-dejecto on the solidified ectoplasm. Sickly yellow patches spread across its surface. The ectoplasm started breaking down. Sloughing off in chunks, layer upon layer melted away, dripping down to the floor until only a wide green puddle remained.
"It's perfect! Pass me the syringe."
Jack got the needle ready in record time. Maddie wasn't concerned about giving Danny the ecto-dejecto without doing trials on living creatures first. Anti-ectoplasmic agents, by their very nature, did not harm living tissue. They isolated and attacked ectoplasm and ectoplasm alone. For this reason, anti-ghost weaponry was completely harmless to humans. Ghost shields, ghost guns, none of them could hard people.
It was also was the very same reason why Maddie and Jack did not have strict rules barring Danny and Jazz from the lab. They wanted their children to be curious. What better way to promote an interest in science then let them explore it in a safe manner with chemicals and compounds that would not harm them?
Danny was still examining his reflection, although he was probing something on the right side of his mouth instead.
Maddie pushed up his t-shirt sleeve. "Hold still, sweetie," she said, and stabbed his shoulder with the needle. Pressed the plunger, she injected him with the ecto-dejecto.
"Ow!" Danny flinched, jerking around to face Maddie. His gaze caught on the needle in her hand. "What was that?"
"Don't worry, you'll be all better by tomorrow," Maddie assured him.
"No, really." Danny stood up. He swayed, careening into the wall, and gasped. Staring down at his hands, he flexed his trembling fingers. "Seriously." He looked up at Maddie, helpless. "What was that?"
His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
"Danny!" Maddie dropped to her knees beside him, Jack joining her a second later. Panic overwhelmed her. That shouldn't have happened. The ecto-dejecto was perfect. It should have worked flawlessly. Instead, Danny's skin around the injection site was quickly turning a dark, sickly green. His breathing was shallow, and his eyelids fluttered.
Pressing two fingers to Danny's neck, Maddie felt his pulse, erratic. What happened? What went wrong? What did Maddie do? She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just sent Danny to his grave.
"Mads." Jack's voice snapped her out of her spiralling thoughts. "We need to get him to the hospital. I'll carry him up to the RV. You call Jazz. We'll get her taken out of school."
"Right. Right." Maddie nodded, swallowing thickly. She had never been more thankful to have Jack by her side. Right when her vision started narrowing and all she could see was one outcome—Danny dead, Maddie his murderer—Jack was there to pull her up.
Moving back, she gave Jack room to gather Danny up. Jack was a big man, with thick arms and heavy-looking hands, but he cradled Danny so gently, as if he was a baby again.
"See the big picture, focus on the little steps," Jack said.
"Big picture, little steps," Maddie repeated. The words rang out in her head, over and over like a mantra. Big picture, little steps. Saving Danny, calling Jazz. Her phone was at her workstation. While Jack carried Danny upstairs, Maddie sprinted over to her station, snagging her phone off the counter. She easily found the number for Casper High.
"Casper High, this is Connie Burjan."
"H–hello Ms. Burjan." Maddie took a deep breath and smoothed out her voice. "This is Madeline Fenton, calling for Jasmine Fenton. I'm her mother."
"What can I do for you?"
"There's an emergency and we need to pull Jazz out of school. She needs to be with her family right now."
"Of course. I'll call her to the principal's office. I hope everything will be alright."
Maddie gave a rueful grin. "So do I." She hung up and headed upstairs.
Jack already had Danny in the back of the RV, laid out on one of the benches. He looked so small curled up on his side, shaking and shivering. Seeing him like that sent a surge of loathing through Maddie. She did this.
"You take Danny to the hospital. I'll pick up Jazz," Jack said, motioning to the little-used family car.
"No, we can't," Maddie said. She cursed softly. "We never got the transmission fixed."
They used the car so little. It was a relic from days past, the same vehicle Jack had in college. These days, they preferred the RV both because of its size and its ghost defenses.
"We pick up Jazz on the way," Jack said.
Maddie didn't want Jazz to see her brother this way, but she nodded anyway. They could leave Jazz at school for the rest of the day, but that didn't feel right. The whole family needed to be together.
Jack climbed into the back with Danny, sitting on the floor rather than the bench opposite his, while Maddie got in the front seat. Starting the car, she practically tore out of the garage, ripping through the back alley behind their house. She may have been a less hazardous driver than Jack, but she was just as fast.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay," Jack whispered. Looking in the rear-view mirror, Maddie saw him running his hands through Danny's hair in a soothing gesture. It reminded her of when Danny was little. He used to get sick so easily, stuck at home for days on end with a cold or flu. One of them would sit with him until he fell asleep, reading books about astronomy and brushing his hair like Jack was doing now.
Maddie's grip on the steering wheel tightened. This was nothing like back then. The bruise on Danny's arm had spread, a spotty discolouration taking over the whole limb.
When they got to the school, Jazz was already waiting outside, standing on the front steps. She ran up the sidewalk the second the RV came into view, bounding toward the vehicle. Jack threw the door open for her.
"What happened? Ms. Burjan didn't say," Jazz said. Her gaze fell to Danny. She paled, cupping her mouth. "Danny!"
She clambered into the car, leaving Jack to shut the door again, and immediately knelt in front of her brother. Her hands hovered over him before she touched his forehead, feeling his temperature. "What happened?" she asked.
"He was sick. Some kind of ghost sickness. We– I gave him ecto-dejecto to flush it out," Maddie explained shakily. She couldn't meet her daughter's eyes.
Jazz stared down at Danny. Gnawing on her thumbnail, she kept swivelling her head back and forth, glancing between Danny, Jack, and Maddie. She looked conflicted.
"Jazz?" Jack asked, seeing the same indecision as Maddie.
"You can't take him to the hospital," Jazz said. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Danny, and pulled him into a protective embrace.
"Jasmine! Your brother needs a doctor!" Maddie said.
"No, you don't understand!" Jazz shook her head vigorously. "You can't take him, they'll– they'll find out."
"Find out what?" Jack asked.
She bit her lip, holding Danny closer. Whispering an apology in Danny's ear, she raised her head and glared defiantly at Maddie and Jack. "They'll find out Danny's not human!"
Maddie slammed her foot on the breaks. Jack's arms shout out to brace himself on the sides of the RV. Jazz yelped, sliding forward, and curled around Danny to protect him as he fell halfway off the bench.
Panting, Maddie turned around and stared at Jazz. "He's what?" she asked.
Jazz shifted, putting herself between Danny and Maddie, as if he needed protecting from her. "He's not human," she repeated. "He's... his accident. It did something to him." Shaking her head, she continued, "If you take him to the hospital, they'll report him. It's in that stupid ecto act the G.I.W. have. Any cases of ecto-contamination need to be reported so they can take care of it."
Maddie's mind refused to process that information. She heard it, loud and clear, but she couldn't comprehend it. Of course Danny was human. He was her son, her baby boy, her flesh and blood. She brought him into this world. To say he wasn't human was just ridiculous. Impossible. No accident could change someone that much. No accident could take away someone's humanity.
The streak in Danny's hair stood out, glaringly bright, against his dark locks. The bruising had spread to his neck now. It would only be a matter of minutes before it touched his cheeks, too.
"Jazz, what happened to Danny?" Maddie was afraid of the answer.
"I can't tell you," Jazz whispered. "It's not my secret. I already said too much. But anything that could help him? None of that is going to be at the hospital. If ecto-dejecto did this to him, he doesn't need human medicine."
Maddie paled.
"Jazzypants," Jack said softly, reaching out.
Jazz scooted back, taking Danny with her. "We have to go back home. And you have to promise me. You have promise that, no matter what you find out, you won't hurt Danny."
"Jazz–"
"Promise!"
"We promise," Maddie said.
"Okay." Jazz nodded. "Okay. Let's get Danny home."
Facing forward, Maddie turned the RV around.
The couch was hardly sanitary. Jack and Maddie had to carry it in from the garage, and it was covered in dust. Maddie told Jazz as much, but her daughter refused to let them put Danny on the examination table.
"I can't let him wake up like that, lying there, with you looking over him," Jazz said. "It's his worst nightmare."
It broke Maddie's heart to hear that.
Jazz sat with Danny, his head in her lap. She had taken Jack's place stroking his hair. Maybe that was for the best. Based on what Jazz said, Danny wouldn't react well to either Maddie or Jack being the first face he saw if we woke up.
When, Maddie corrected herself. When he wakes up.
The couch sat all the way across the lab, as far from Maddie and Jack as it could get. Not to keep Danny away from them, but because they hadn't cleaned up the puddle of ectoplasm on the floor yet. It was a medical hazard, not to mention an accident waiting to happen, but they had other things to focus on right now.
Maddie forced herself to look away from her children, a heartfelt scene, and turned back to her microscope. She had a sample of Danny's blood underneath it and was looking for signs of crystallization. If she wanted to treat him right, she needed to know just how ghostly he was, and if he was even sick in the first place.
Danny himself said he didn't know what was going on.
Zooming in forty times, one hundred times, four hundred times, Maddie scowled in frustration. She could see his blood cells, but she couldn't see any crystallization. It didn't make sense.
"Anything, Jack?" Maddie asked, pulling back from the lens.
Jack, sitting beside her, leaned forward and scrutinized the computer screen. It was plugged in to the microscope, showing the same view Maddie saw of the sample. He shook his head.
"I don't get it. It should be there," he said.
Maddie nodded. Switching out Danny's sample for the ectoplasm from the portal, she shifted closer to Jack and scoured the screen. The image was blindingly bright. Unlike human blood, which could be seen as individual cells when you looked close enough, ectoplasm remained one solid mass no matter how far you zoomed in. The only thing that seemed to change was how large the crystallization lines were.
In the portal's sample, they swirled together in spiral patterns. It mimicked the way the ectoplasm moved in the portal itself.
Maddie wondered how that worked. Other ghosts had some form of conscience that seemed to influence and be influenced by their ectoplasm, resulting in unique patterns. The portal, however, had no consciousness. Perhaps all ambient ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone would bear an identical pattern. It was something they would have to look into, once Danny was fine.
Staring at the bright screen too long hurt Maddie's eyes. She was forced to look away, rubbing spots out of her vision. There had to be something they were missing.
Jack drummed his fingers on the table and hummed.
"What is it?" Maddie asked.
"Ectoplasm isn't blood," he said.
Maddie blinked, confused. "Yes?"
"So, why are we looking at Danny's blood like it's ectoplasm?"
Maddie blinked again. Her thoughts snapped into place. "Of course!" she shouted. She switched the ectoplasm with Danny's sample once again, zooming the microscope in to one thousand.
"Enlarge the image," Maddie said.
On the computer keyboard, Jack tapped a few keys, doing as asked. The image blew up to fill the screen.
Maddie pointed to one of Danny's red blood cells. "There," she said. She traced her nail along a thin line just barely visible, cutting across the cell. "Ectoplasm is one solid mass, as far as we know, but blood isn't. The crystallization appears on the individual cells, not around them."
"You found something?" Jazz called from across the room.
"You betcha, Jazzypants!" Jack whooped, throwing up his arms.
Maddie left him to celebrate, focusing instead on the pattern she could see. It looked like starbursts. Of course they would, this was Danny. She expected nothing less from her space-loving son. Scanning the image over and over, she tried to see if she could tell exactly how ghostly Danny was. The crystallization appeared fainter, but there was just as much of it as any ectoplasmic sample, simply reduced to a smaller space. Maddie's gaze caught on one of the cells in the corner of the image.
"That's odd," she said. "Jack, look at this." She beckoned him closer, pointing to what had caught her attention. "That cell there. It's the same swirl pattern as the portal.
"You're right," Jack murmured, fascinated.
Tapping her finger on her cheek, Maddie kept staring. There was something else about the pattern, something that nagged at her. It was almost familiar, which should be impossible because every ghost was unique.
"Jack, compare this sample to other ones we have logged in the system," Maddie said.
Behind her, Jazz called, "You don't need to do that!"
"Yes we do."
On the computer monitor, Maddie saw Jazz's reflection. Jazz carefully lifted Danny's head, sliding off the couch, and set him back down. Scurrying across the lab, her socks slipped on the metal tiles.
"Jazz, be careful!" Maddie swivelled her chair around, reaching out to Jazz, but was too late to catch her. Jazz's feet shot out from under her and she hit the ground hard. She groaned, rubbing her backside.
"You should be more careful, you almost fell into the..." Maddie's words died out. The puddle of ectoplasm was gone. "Jack, did you clean up the mess from earlier?"
"Hm? The glass? Yeah, I got it all," he said.
"No, not that, the–" A green blur shot across the lab.
Maddie leapt to her feet, instinctively reaching for an ecto-weapon, but she wasn't wearing any. The green mass zipped back and forth, moving erratically, too fast for Maddie to see. Until it stopped over Danny, hovering.
The ghost was small, about the size of a puppy. It had no arms or legs, just a shimmering body. Spiral patterns danced across its skin, shifting constantly. Yellow rash-like patches smothered the spirals in some places.
Maddie's gaze fell from the ghost to where the puddle of ectoplasm had been mere minutes ago.
"It didn't work," she said quietly, gaping at the ghost.
"Maddie, you should look at this."
"No, Jack, it didn't work!"
"Baby, you really need to look at this!"
Maddie turned, annoyed Jack wasn't listening to her, and froze. The computer had found a match in the crystal patterns. Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom, one hundred percent.
There were only so many dramatic revelations Maddie could handle in one day. First Danny had a ghost flu, then it was worse than a flu, then he was dying, then he wasn't, and then it turned out he was dead all along. Her heart couldn't take it.
She sat on the floor in front of Danny's couch, watching him sleep. The reanimated ghost slept with him, curled up on his back. It was almost cute. Normally, Maddie would have blasted the thing to shreds by now for even getting close to Danny, much less touching him. But right now, that ghost was a sign of hope.
Not only did the ghost recover from the ecto-dejecto, but it gained consciousness. Unless, of course, the portal was conscious after all. That thought sent shivers up her spine. What did that say about Danny, who shared key DNA elements with the portal's ectoplasm? What did it say about the newly birthed ghost that already seemed so attached to him?
It was just Maddie, Danny, and the ghost in the lab. Jazz and Jack had gone upstairs to eat, at Maddie's insistence. It had been a harrowing day and it was barely past noon. Inching forward, she rested her elbows on the cushion beside Danny, folding her arms. The ghost on his back shuffled and yawned, but otherwise didn't acknowledge her. She took that as a good sign.
Danny had stopped shaking not too long ago. The discolouration on his skin had started fading, although not the way Maddie wanted it to. Rather than disappearing completely, it was turning a light salmon colour, a couple shades pinker than a nasty sunburn. Judging by the yellow stains that had yet to fade from the portal ghost, Danny's pink patches would not disappear completely. The sight of them sickened her. Not because they were ugly—Danny could never be ugly to her—but because they were a sign of what she had almost done.
The first few seconds after learning Danny was Phantom, Maddie felt betrayed. How could her own son not trust her with something so monumental? The second thing she felt was a cathartic realization as all the pieces fell into place. The failing grades, the absences, breaking curfew. All their inventions reacting to Danny. It explained everything. Looking back, she should have seen it sooner. Maddie really despised hindsight.
She reached out and brushed Danny's hair away from his forehead, briefly checking his temperature. Disturbingly cold, but Jazz said that was normal for him. Maddie had no choice but to trust her information.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. How many times had she threatened Danny to his face, without knowing it was really him? All the experiments she and Jack had proposed, all the ways they would take Phantom apart to figure out how he ticked. It was horrible.
"I'm so, so sorry." She ran her hand through his hair. Her palm came away wet. Confused, she stared at the ectoplasm streaked across her hand. Pushing Danny's hair back, she checked his scalp for an injury, finding a viscous patch of skin. Before Maddie could process what was happening, Danny was already halfway gone.
"No, no!" She tried to hold him together, but it didn't work. Beneath her helpless gaze, Danny melted, leaving her kneeling in a pool of his ectoplasm, horrified. Her voice caught behind her tongue and refused to move any farther. Cupping her mouth, she croaked pathetically, squeezing her eyes shut. A horrible sob tore through her throat.
Maddie gripped the edge of the couch, punching the cushion. The ghost laying there squawked in protest. Maddie's head snapped up.
"You," she said. Pulling herself up, she braced herself on either side of the ghost. "This happened to you. You came back. How did you do it? Make him come back!"
Crying out in grief, she lowered her head against the couch, shaking. Danny was supposed to be fine. He was supposed to wake up and realize Maddie and Jack knew his secret. He was supposed to wake up and smile because he didn't have to hide anymore. He wasn't... he wasn't supposed to... he couldn't...
A soft white glow filled the room. Maddie opened her eyes, nearly blinded by the light. It came from the ectoplasm. Bright stretching over the puddle, rippling outward from the center at Maddie's knees. The ectoplasm started rising, the rings rising with it, cascading downward.
Slowly, a shape took form, growing out of the ectoplasm. A faceless blob that quickly grew a head, a torso, arms. An achingly familiar form. The ectoplasm creeped back together, sucked inward as the last of the rings faded, and Danny Phantom fell forward into Maddie's waiting arms. She buried a hand on his hair, pressing his face against her shoulder, and let out a broken laugh.
Danny shifted, his arms raising, wrapping around her. "Mom?" he asked, lifting his head.
Maddie wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pulled back so she could see him. He looked different. Where white strands had glistened in Danny's human hair, a black streak now marked his ghost form. His eyes were brighter. Green flecked sparkled on his cheeks like stars. Two new, sharp teeth sat over his canines and lateral incisors on either side of his mouth. He even looked a little taller.
The discolouration remained, though. Grey instead of red.
He tipped his head down, focusing on his body. Startled into action, he yelped and scrambled away, putting distance between them. "I– I mean, Maddie. Madeline. Madeline Fenton. What are you doing here?" he said in a false, deep voice. "In your own lab. What are you doing here in your lab?"
Maddie couldn't help it. She laughed.
"Mo– addie. What, uh, what's going on right now? Am I being punked?" Danny floated back, casting a nervous glance around the room.
"I'm sorry, it's just." She paused to giggle. "How did you ever keep this a secret from us? That voice is so terrible."
"Hey! I like my voice!" Danny shouted, dropping the false voice. His eyes widened and he quickly resumed the charade. "I mean, I like my voice. This voice. This is my voice. And you... you are still laughing."
"Danny..." Maddie wiped her eyes again, this time tears of happiness. "We know."
"You... know?"
"We know."
Danny gawked at her. All it took was Maddie opening her arms and he flew forward, crashing into her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied," he whispered.
Maddie nearly started crying again. "I'm sorry you had to."
"I just, you and Dad. Fighting ghosts is what you do, and I panicked and didn't tell you, and then it felt like I had waited too long. But I... how do you know?" He peered up at her, tilting his head.
"Jazz told us. We thought... we thought you were dying."
"I felt like it."
Maddie cringed.
"Oh, no, geez, I didn't mean it like that. I meant before you got me with whatever that was. I don't remember anything after that and now I feel kind of great actually," Danny said in a rush. Standing up, he flexed his fists and looked down. Following his gaze, Maddie saw he was examining his reflection in the floor. "Did I go through ghost puberty or something?"
Silence stretched between them for a second.
"Oh my god," Danny said, eyes widening. "I totally went through ghost puberty."
He leaned down to get a better look. Before he could, the portal ghost barrelled into his chest, throwing him back against the couch. The ghost zipped around him, nuzzling him and saying gibberish words. At least it sounded like gibberish to Maddie.
Danny caught the ghost in his arms, trapping it against his chest in a bear hug. "And who's this?" he asked.
"Your new best friend," Maddie teased.
"Damn. Sam and Tucker will be so disappointed." Danny flopped onto his back, holding the ghost above his head as if it were a cat.
Maddie felt a sense of calm wash over her. She didn't realize she had still been nervous, but hearing Danny's sarcastic voice, seeing him play with the new ghost, her worries finally disappeared. Everything was going to be okay.
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