#being that hes got extra electricity since being zapped

[thetangycheesemanwithaplan]

911 + Text Posts pt121/?

[gatorbites-imagines]

Ok so I know you said you have been unmotivated with smut lately, but you don't have to write this if you don't want to. But basically it's Scott summers x male reader where they are best friends, maybe they have some secret feelings that they have never confessed too. So male reader decided so bite the bullet and confess with out confessing, and is like " you know a few bounces on it never hurt a friendship", ( lol like the meme) and smut ensues.

Scott Summers x Mutant male reader

Headcanons

Readers got electrokinetic and magnetic powers, because I couldn’t think of anything original, and ice powers are already yoinked up by Bobby. So, ice cold head is gonna be saved for another day.

I feel like my Scott obsession shines through in this… enjoy some longer work

Feedback wasn’t the most original or coolest sounding name, but hey, it had been Scott’s idea, and you had a soft spot for him from the very beginning. So, Feedback it was. Seeing how Scott puffs up a little when you explain he came up with the name almost makes up for Logan picking on you for it.

Being great friends with Scott, makes most people assume you are a hardass like him. And yeah, you have your moments. You see how much Scott stressed about keeping everyone safe, as well as dealing with the US government and the likes, so yes, you take it seriously.

Your lightning powers lead you to also bond with Ororo, though you are not completely at her level. You cant control the weather, but you sure as hell can use electricity and lightning, and you’ve learned how useful it can be.

It took a lot of training, but who else can paralyze a person without it being lethal as easily as you can? Or fry most electronics or vehicles, even guns and other weapons? You are at least a little proud of your powers.

And maybe it has to do with the fact that Scott always seemed to preen, at least a little, with pride whenever you show how far you’ve come. You are the exact same with him, and your “broship” is kind of a thing in the X-men

To the point where the entire mansion, or island if its on Krakoa, get tense and start tiptoeing around when you two are fighting or arguing. Seeing you two not talking and avoiding each other is as uncomfortable as seeing Deadpool around, except its worse.

It always leads to some of the others, typically the younger mutants, trying to set up some kind of heist you get you two to get along again. Most of the times it fails, but the failure is what brings you together again, in a sense.

You also typically give Scott small zaps with your powers, to get his mind off whatever he’s too focused on. or the times where he lets you run light electricity through his muscles when they bunch up. Him groaning and huffing in relief is only an extra on top of the cake, since you already get to fondle his back.

Your feelings for Scott aren’t as much of a secret as you wish they were. Charles knew almost the very moment he met you. Apparently, you used to project your thoughts quite a lot, and he was growing tired of seeing your fantasies.

After that you got better at hiding. You especially worked hard to suppress and hide it when Scott got together with Jean. Yeah, it hurt your heart, but you never really thought you two would be more than bros.

But to show Jean some respect, you get less touchy and grabby with Scott. In the past you might have smacked his ass after training, or groped his pecs and arms, making some excuse about his gains. But with Scott in a relationship, it didn’t feel right.

Scott did the same thing with you, but… it was only because you did it first, right? So, its not like hed notice. Obviously, he does, Scott being so vigilant about the people around him means it takes him less than a month to be completely sure you’re avoiding him.

That doesn’t mean he says anything. Instead, he just kinda lets it stew. The relationship between you grows… tense in a way. Its not like you two are arguing, but you are trying to pull away enough to wash away whatever feelings you have, and Scott is sure you hate him for some reason, and he doesn’t know why.

In the end its actually Jean that confronts you about it, much to your embarrassment. She’s surprisingly kind about it, or you guessed it wasn’t surprising. Jeans an amazing woman, which was why it was no shock she swooped in and caught Scott’s heart.

Jean knows all about your feelings, but also Scotts. Scott loves her, very much so. But he loves you just as much, he just hasn’t realized it yet. Scott easily just pushes those feelings aside as platonic, or some deep loyalty to his best friend.

So, what if he sometimes has dreams about you holding him down and fucking him so hard he needs his visor, since his shades would be sent flying. Or his regular dream of you using small sparks of electricity to play with him.

But somehow Jean saves the situation. Being able to read minds is great, since it makes her feel safe and secure in her relationship, enough to know that you are both good men, and that you’d never act on your feelings with her in the picture.

This is how it continues for a while. Scotts with Jean, and you have some flings of your own. Over the years you kind of have a thing with Logan, then Warren, and a kind of “ill scratch your itch if you scratch mine” with Remy when he and Anne Marie have their moments.

And yeah, maybe there’s a couple of others on that list that you don’t speak too much about it. Its not your fault Deadpool can be weirdly charming and handsome sometimes. And that one time with Magneto is not something you’ll ever mention, to anybody. You get a feeling Charles knows about it though. You have a feeling Magneto told him.

All in all, you never end up with a long lasting “official” relationship. Its kind of hard to give your heart to someone else when Scott still has his name printed across it in big letters. You’re not like Scott, whose heart is big enough to fit multiple people

What you have with other people is always just casual and never means anything. Well, you do get closer to Logan. Its… a weird situation. He still has a thing for Jean, and you have a thing for Scott, and you help each other out when times get tough.

You thought Scott was gonna kill you when he caught you chewing on a cigar. It’s not like you were gonna smoke it, but seeing him huffing and puffing about you chewing on one of Logans cigars made your pants a bit too tight for comfort.

It really doesn’t help that Scott bulks up over the years. Logan may still call him slim, but there’s nothing slim about him. So, there might be more grope to the smacks you give his ass sometimes, how can you not, it’s so… grabble.

And you are always too distracted by his just… soft and big he is back there, hes even got butt dimples man. It means you never notice how Scott might just arch his hips back a little, or the way his thighs twitch when the excess electricity runs from your fingers into his skin.

Sure, him for thinking about those fingers inside him, its normal. He thinks. Its not his fault you have really nice hands, and the way electricity crinkles around your fingers is way too hot sometimes.

You once licked the electricity off your fingers, the sparks jumping from your fingers to your tongue. Scott knows its just for fun, or be a dick, but god does his front and back twitch think about it.

How you confess can happy in many ways. But the main factor is that Scott and Jean are no more. Maybe shes died, like she does in some comics. Or maybe they just broke up since they grew apart.

But one way or another you just confess. Maybe its after one of your rolls in the hay with Logan, and Scott finally doesn’t have Jean to redirect his attention too and his jealousy boils over. It leads to an argument, with you just spilling that you slept about because you couldn’t have him.

It hurts, after the confession leaves you. You’ve kept it tight inside you for years at this point, and seeing Scott just freeze up makes you feel even worse. You just get your keys into your hands with a flick of magnetic energy, before Scotts upon you.

The floors really uncomfortable, and the air is knocked out of your chest, especially as he places his bulk on top of you, Scotts hands on either side of your head.

Even with the visor giving off its usual red glow, Scott couldn’t get more handsome. The quiver in his lip and how he keeps nipping at its insides. “Scott…” you breath out, hands twitching at your sides, wanting nothing more than to settle on his nice, plush with muscle, hips.

Kissing Scott was everything you had ever imagined, and more. He tasted like the coffee hed been drinking, the brand you always hated but still bought because it was Scott’s favorite. The one he would always brew too strong, and never add any sugar or creamer too.

And yet, as his tongue rolled against your own, you couldn’t think of anything more delicious. It felt more like you two were trying to eat each other, to see who could devour the other one first after being starved for so long.

Any other time you might have been embarrassed about how wet and slick your kissing was, and just how loud it was. It seemed to ring through the empty room, Scotts hands already pulling at your shirt as you allow yourself to truly grope and feel that plump ass of his.

Youd touched Scott many times before. Hell, you’d even touched him naked here and there. But those times had been for medical reasons, or that one time to keep hypothermia at bay. This felt so much more intimate, so much… more.

The lamps in the room flickered as Scott pushed himself up to get fully undressed, your irises lighting up as you finally got to just stare. He was so hard, and with him standing above you he felt like a god, in his own way. You must have said this out loud, since Scott blushed and dragged you up.

It felt like being a virgin again, tumbling into bed and kicking off what clothes you had left on, hands groping and exploring. When it came to men, you had a lot more experience. You honestly only had experience with men.

That didn’t mean you almost didn’t bust on the spot when Scott sat himself down in your lap again, nothing between him and your cock. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel how his ass just draped around you, the smirk on Scotts lips so cocky you almost wanted to smack him.

With that thought, your body seemed to respond. Youd never really shot electricity from your crotch before, but the loud high-pitched yelp from Scott told you just that had happened.

You immediately wanted to apologize, fearing you had ruined the mood. A violent shudder ran through Scotts body, a deeper more guttural groan leaving his body as he rocked against you, precum spilling from him like a faucet. That had felt better than hed ever imagined.

The world felt like it was shrinking more and more until all you could think of was Scott Summers, and how felt against you. How he felt around your fingers as you stretch him open, and the loud wails of want he lets out, when you let the smallest flickers of electricity zap from your fingers to his prostate.

Youd always had a code of sorts, that your partner at least had to finish once, preferably twice, before you would enter them, or let them enter you. And with Scott it was so easy to wring them out of him. You almost wanted to just keep milking him for all he was worth.

Recognizing the look in your eyes, at least somewhat, had Scott tapping his foot against your tip, which was enough to remind you of how hard you really were, and how sensitive.

It gave Scott enough time to flip you onto your back, and with a recklessness you wouldn’t see from him every day, he just sank down on you.

All that working out made it easy for Scott to ride you, his thighs and hips working in harmony, his fingers digging into your pecs as you both groan and huff, letting out noises neither of you had ever let out before.

Kissing Scott as he rode you was a pretty name for it. in reality it was more just your open mouths pressed together as you both panted and drooled, tongues just rubbing together every now and then.

Having edged yourself until now meant you didn’t last long. As Scott shoved you over the edge your vision went white, and you had a feeling the popping noises you heard were the lightbulbs around the room.

It felt like Scott was draining your very soul of your body through your dick, his behind was diabolical. Part of you wanted to joke about him doing some other kind of training without telling you, but your teeth still felt like they were made of static, so all you could do was groan and gasp.

The high-pitched noises from Scotts mouth still registered to your fuzzy hearing, and the splatters of white against your torso made something inside you settle, knowing he had finished too.

The air was knocked out of your chest again as Scott slumped against you like a puppet getting its strings cut. The only noise in the room was the sound of your shared panting and wheezing, as well as the faint buzz of the ruined lightbulbs.

“you’re paying for that…” Scott finally mumbles breathlessly against the side of your neck. A snort leaves you, head still feeling like a thunderstorm and tv-static as you work your arms shakily around him. “Fine… but I’m picking the brand” you reply, voice slurred and tongue floppy in ways you hadn’t experienced in years.

Scott clearly wanted to laugh at your state, but he wasn’t much better himself. He couldn’t feel his legs, and it wasn’t completely because of the zap of electricity you’d sent through his entire body, as much as it was just how good it had felt.

You both needed to cool down, and maybe a nap. And then a good, long, cold shower. Scott lazily mentally noted down that he needed new sheets and lightbulbs, but not much else happened. For once his head felt blissfully silent, in the way only you could make it.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 17

MASPAPOST

Danny caught a distant croon, bellowing deep and powerful from under the waves. “You hear that?”

Danny didn’t wait for a response before he took Damian’s hand and placed him on his shoulder over the water. “What was it? Was it a threat?” The younger boy asked.

“You’ll see!”

Danny sped off toward the origin of the sound. As they approach the source, the rumbling tones of whale song intensified. Danny’s lateral line zapped and tinged as the massive electric field got stronger. Damian shivered on his back, arms gripping tighter. Danny wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little scared too, but the excitement made up for it ten times over.

The whales were just ahead. Even with night vision, it was hard to make up their shapes underneath the dark sky, but his lateral line jumped. Danny retreated thirty feet, stopped and treaded water. He held his breathe for the big moment.

A moment later, the whale’s gigantic body smashed the ceiling of the ocean, with the force of a volcano. Waterfalls formed as the sea parted around its head, cascading and crashing thunderously. A plume of water as tall as Fentonworks blasted out of the whale’s back, showering the boys in a wet spray.

Danny’s passenger gasped. He felt Damian’s chin hitting his shoulder. Knew it.

Suddenly, another whale emerged. And another, and another. An entire pod of whales!

“This may be more beautiful than the stars…” Damian muttered.

Danny crossed his arms. “Since you’re obviously an animal kind of kid, I’ll let the blasphemy slide. For now. But I might feed you to the whales if you get testy.”

“Tut. The whales would not want me as food. I would make a much better companion than snack.”

Danny let a smirk grow. His fins stretched themselves. Danny grabbed Damian’s arms and tightened his grip. “Ready to test that hypothesis?”

“What are you doing-?!”

“Hold your breath!”

Danny surged into the water at top speed, then doubled back and rapidly made for the surface, gaining more and more speed until he launched out of the water like a flying fish. His stomach flipped as they went airborne. For a little extra flair, he arched his back and did a flip at the top of his arc. Then gravity pulled.

Danny yelled excitedly. “YEEHAWW!” As they plummeted. Instead of splashing into the water, the boys landed on soft blubber, tumbling and rolling as their momentum carried them forward.

He laughed gingerly, even as Damian crawled up to him and pounched. It was pitifully easy to hold the child at arms’ length as he scratched ineffectually at Danny’s thicker scales.

“Unhand me, you fiend! You will pay for actions! You will pay for disavowing animals in favour of the stars, and you will pay for putting the whales in harm’s way.” The boy said, kitten-like hissing accompanying every word.

“Scratch me harder Dami! Let’s see how bad you can tickle me!” Danny giggled, happily stoking the flames as the chorus of screeching reached a fever pitch.

“Do not call me that childish nickname!” Damian scowled, hackles raising. In an attempt to escape Danny’s hold, the boy raised his tailfin and slapped him over the head. A worthwhile tactic, but Danny had been slapped in the head by much more powerful tailfins before.

“Is the wittle baby getting grumpy over his new nickname?” He snickered. For extra dominance, he flipped himself and squished Damian underneath his body, squishing the boy’s fins flat.

“We shall we who laughs now, fool!” Damian said, And Danny realised his blunder too quickly. Damian turned his head, opened his mouth, and give Danny’s gills a good, long lick.

Firstly: GROSS.

Secondly: HOLY SHIT THAT TICKLED.

Even though they were shut due to being above water, that didn’t make them any less sensitive. The sudden ticklish sensation has him jumping back with a yelp.

With the advantage returned to him, Damian pounced on his weakness. Danny reached out to catch him again, but instead, Damian twisted in the air. The natural mucus of his scales let him slip between Danny’s fingers, where Damian went for the throat. The boy wrapped his body and tail around the older siren’s windpipe, constricting like a snake.

“I hereby declare victory.” Damian said, tiny body radiating smugness.

“Dami. Dami. Please. Can you stop strangling me?” Danny casually requested. “I totally concede, bro.”

Damian tightened his grip. “Only if you apologise.” He harrumphed.

“Apologise for what?”

“Calling me by that childish nickname. Only Richard does that, and he is too stupid to live anyway, which is why I allow it.”

“Aww, did you just call me smart? I’m touched.”

Damian hissed loudly. It was supposed to be intimidating, but man did he sound like a kitten right now. Dora once told him really young sirens even meowed. What he would give to see that happen to Dami.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry for threatening to feed you to the whales.” Danny said, lying with his fingers crossed (a very impressive feat, considering they were webbed).

“And?”

“And for calling you Dami.” He lied again, through his teeth.

“And?”

Danny paused. “Oh, the whales. Dude, we have a symbiotic relationship, it’s literally fine.”

That got Damian to loosen the hold he had on Danny’s throat. “Elaborate.”

“Lots of animals ride on whales, like, ugh, dolphins. And I really need this break. You’re not the one swimming literally all day for hundreds of miles.”

Damian hummed, face scrunching up in deep thought. “We can continue making progress without stopping for the night to sleep. It is a worthy plan.”

“Plus, we can protect these guys from any danger, like poachers or whatever. It’s why they’re been pretty chill with us being here.”

That finally managed to convince him. Damian confirmed his approval with a curt nod. “It is agreeable then.”

Just as he spoke, the ‘ground’ beneath them started sinking.

“Word of warning, you’re gonna have to fill your lungs with water.” Damian blanched. Poor kid. “Don’t worry! I promise it’s not as bad as learning to breath air. Now help me get this harness around the big girl, so we don’t get swept away.”

Jazz Fenton tapped her pencil on her notebook. She tapped it again, and again in a frantic rhythm.

She knew it wasn’t healthy. It was like staring at your empty wallet for hours hoping money would appear out of nowhere instead of finding a job or doing something productive like cleaning up, only she was staring at her messages. Fifty missed calls. If she was honest, Danny’s phone was probably at the bottom of the sea.

Little brother, what have you gotten into this time?

She didn’t have magic, like Sam, or insane hacking skills like Tucker, or superpowers like Danny. All she could do is hopelessly stare at a phone, wishing for things to be ok (but not actually wishing, because who knows when Desiree could be lurking).

The day she caught Danny changing, the day the horrible truth came to her like a revelation from Cthuhlu was the scariest day of her life.

She supposed it was now only the second scariest.

She remembered watching him sneak behind the pier, deserted thanks to an earlier attack, desperate to find some way to help Danny. Jazz laughed at her previous self’s naivety. How she wished it had been something simple like bullying or crushes. Instead, she looked on as Danny stripped down and jumped into the water (she was so ready to run out and reprimand him for skinny dipping. What if someone saw?).

Instead, she went into full-blown panic as a column of bubbles popped at the surface, the horrifying reality of drowning pounding in her mind. But as she’d reached for her phone to call her parents, already in a full sprint to pull her brother out, she saw him.

Translucent skin, blinding white and pitch dark scales. It was from there that the horrifying reality of her situation dawned on her.

How long could she protect her brother from her parents? How long could she protect her family from the truth?

Muffled sounds crept into her room. Metal clashed against metal. Blow torches buzzed. Buzz saws roared. Jazz knew exactly what was going on. Her parents were on the war path. They were making weapons. Weapons to hunt down their own flesh and blood. They had been working, day in and day out. The only time she’d seen them in the last two days was at the beginning of their work spree, when they called her to the living room to inform her of Danny’s disappearance.

Bile boiled in her throat. Jazz clamped her jaw shut. She had to maintain composure, she had to keep calm. But what could she do?

It was not her secret to tell. Danny’s unfiltered fear was as readable as the ABCs. He didn’t even know she was in on it. If she told their parents, he may never trust her again, and rightly.

Jazz put the pencil down, electing to waste time by scrolling news feeds instead. Dozens of articles about the disappearance of Damian Wayne. Barely any lip service for Danny.

Even if she did tell them, she had no reason to be sure it would even work. Their parents loved them. That was undeniable. She saw it in the boisterous cheers when their Dad celebrated their achievements. Both of them. She saw it in the way they dragged her and Danny out on road trips and boat trips and to the psychology seminars and space expos.

But they also loved their work, and hated sirens.

And the scariest thing of all was that, for all she told herself that she knew they would choose their children over their obsession?

Deep, deep down, buried inside her heart in a box she would’ve told Danny was unhealthy to keep, she was uncertain. As she listened to her parents working in the basement, she knew the cost would be too great.

Years of memories flashed by in Jazz’s mind. Each moment, each word and each action put on a scale between acceptance and rejection. Between a happy ending and the most tragic possibilities. But even as she worked and pondered and agonized, she felt the filter of bias and emotion clouding her judgement. These were her parents and her brother. Any analysis of them would be steeped in her own perspective.

If she exposed her brother, and her parents failed the test, it would very well be the end of this family right then and there. And then it might even be the end of Danny. Even if he survived what their parents would try to him, his heart might not.

And if she didn’t say anything? If she allowed her parents to go out there?

The basement had been silent for a while. A knock on the door.

“Sweetie? Can I come in?” Mom said. Jazz’s breath hitched.

“Come in, mom!” She could not hide the naked anxiety.

Her mother opened the door. Her hood was down, revealing disheveled hair and bags under her eyes. “Sweetie, I’ve got news.”

“About Danny?” Jazz asked. She moved to sit on the bed, inviting her mother to do the same. She had to strain to avoid clenching the mattress and showing her stress.

“We have reason to think he’s still out there, that Phantom took him alive for whatever reason.” Her mother said, voice tight. “Your father and I are going. We’re going to track down Phantom, and make him give us Danny back.”

Jazz’s nerves shot up, even though she knew that was what they were planning. Her parents were not passive people. To hear their intentions stated in plain words was a shock to the system.

Her mother took her silence as concern. She laid her hands on Jazz’s shoulder, the same as she’d always do to comfort her. “It’ll be alright, Jazzy. We’ll save your brother, no matter what.”

“When are you leaving?” She asked. Maybe she could sneak in and sabotage their weapons, and give Danny a better chance.

“In an hour.” That was no time at all! Jazz’s forehead went damp. A drop of sweat rolled down her cheeks. “Don’t worry about us, ok? We’ve already asked Vlad to come check in on you and help with groceries while we’re away. I know you’re already a brilliant and inde-,”

“NO!” Jazz yelled out, before cringing at her outburst.

There was no man on the planet she would less like to be alone with than Vladimir fucking Masters. After catching one of their fights, it was very clear that he was the one responsible for what happened to Danny.

“I mean. I want to come with you.” Her mother blinked.

“Sweetie, it’s dangerous, and-”

Jazz thought fast. “Mom, those sirens took my little brother away. I want to get him back too. I can help!”

She narrowed her eyes, and clenched her jaw. She assigned herself a mission to keep her parents away from her brother at that moment. On the outside, it looked like she was pumped to help them get to him.

Her mother paused, her eyes going downcast. Her parents had always tried to get her and her brother involved in their work, in siren hunting, only to be rebuffed as they found their own interest. For her parents, this was what she always wanted, and Jazz could tell the weight her words held.

Jazz pressed the attack. “I can help man the systems. You’ve taken us so many times now. And you’ll need my help to maintain your emotional balance over the course of such a harrowing journey. This is what I was born to do.”

Her mother pursed her lip, a sign she was very convinced, and yet fighting a way to say no.

Loud footsteps behind her. “I say we let her, Mads!” Her father shouted.

Her mom startled. “Jack, honey, it’s too dangerous.”

“The Fentons look out for their family, Maddie. Our little girl’s growing up, Maddie, and if she doesn’t wanna be cooped up in the house and watch us get Danno back, then why should she?”

Her parents stared at each other for a moment. Her dad grinned, and nodded vigorously. Her mother stood firm.

After a while, her posture finally relaxed. “Fine, but promise that you’ll be careful, and you listen to us very carefully, ok? This is a real siren hunt.”

“Mom, we’ve been hit by real siren attacks all summer. Whatever hits us, I’ll be right by your side.”

Right by their side, and sabotaging them every minute of the way.

Her dad clapped his hands. “Welp. That’s settled then! Pack your bags Jazz-pants. We’re leaving in an hour! We need to make the finishing touches, and then the Fentons will set sail!”

It turned out that they were not immediately setting sail as her dad had implied. Her suitcase and belongings safely tucked away in her room on the new and improved SAV, Jazz sat in the back seat as her father’s usual frantic but calculated driving brought them to stop outside Sanchez Hotel. Wait, wasn’t this where-

There he was. Bruce Wayne, somehow looking immaculate despite the stress the man was probably under. He’d probably spent a life-time hiding his emotions away, practicing it like an art form.

Crap, she was doing the thing again.

“You didn’t tell me Bruce Wayne was joining us!” She said, scandalised.

Her mom opened the door for him, greeting him as he settled in the seats, looking more than a little nervous as he double and triple checked his seatbelt.

“That’s because we weren’t sure he’d agree, sweetie. But Phantom took his son too, so it was only natural that we’d invite him. Bruce, meet Jazz, she’s our daughter.”

Bruce Wayne extended a cordial smile and offered his hands. Jazz took it warily. “It’s nice to meet you, Jazz. You can call me Bruce too.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr Way- I mean Bruce. Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright. You’re very brave for agreeing to come.” He said.

“I wasn’t going to let my parents dash off into the sunset alone. Danny’s my brother too, and I’ve been taught how to operate most of my parents’ stuff.” Jazz said.

She couldn’t catch his next words. Her nerves were rearing up again, instincts yelling danger, danger. She searched within herself for the cause. Then her eyes landed on Bruce’s. And for a moment, just a brief moment, the casual gaze shifted into something intense. Like she was staring up at a scalpel.

And Jazz knew that the playboy personality was an act. Immediately her plans changed. Courses of actions rewritten. Suddenly her mission was about to become much more difficult.

[shinyspooks]

just gonna crawl in here and dump my hc's on dannys biology and how he died. pretty new to the phandom so idk much about what people have said is canon buuuuut....

i like to think that when he was in the portal it killed him but not entirely. he was litterally a split second away from death, but in a similar way that a defibrillator restores a normal heartbeat through electricity, ectoplasm shot through Danny's chest and into his systems shocking his body back to life since he wasnt entirely dead (through both electricity and ghost magicy stuff)

well half life ynow.

cause now he permanantly has ectoplasm coursing through his veins and the sudden death and then revival messed up his biology so hes only half alive/dead.

the ectoplasm of the ghost zone and electricity of the portal in the living world combined is what stimulated both sides of him at the same time causing his entire being to permanently stick to an inbetween of life and death.

so he has lightning like scars on his body originating on his chest where the ectoplasm shot into him. in his human form its just a small scar on his chest but in his ghost form it extends throughout the rest of his body.

Also, he's so powerful because halfa's are created through pure ectoplasm from the ghost zone being forced into them.

i read in a fic once and idk if this is canon but the more ectoplasm around someone when they die=the stronger a ghost they become.

the fic also had a thing where ectoplasm leaks from the ghost zone into the living world everywhere.

anyways. ynow how vlad's portal was no bigger then a mirror and it managed to shoot a whole beam of ectoplasm/electricity. and in canon he's very powerful

well.

dannys portal is 10X the size of that other portal. >:)

anyways yeh, i like info dumping headcanons and danny has such a special place in my heart.

OKAY

OKAY

SO DANNY’S DEATH RIGHT???

okay

rubs my little hands together

all of this is EXCELLENT (and yes, most people do hc he has lichtenberg scars from the accident), but I absolutely NEED to delve into Danny’s death holy shit

Okay so first of all I do subscribe to “Danny is the only true halfa”. Well, kinda. He’s the only one with a perfect balance between both- He didn’t develop any illness like Vlad and didn’t start destabilizing like Danielle. He’s the only one who’s body just kinda... fell into perfect sync, which, makes sense considering Danielle probably only has like, half a full dna thing (listen im not that much of a scientist/am not into biology) and Vlad basically got shot in the face with corrupted ectoplasm while Danny’s ectoplasm baja blast was pure.

Uh- one thing that I think about the Accident is that everyone, including me, is likely underestimating the amount of electricity Danny got hit with. Like- it was enough electricity to create a stable hole between dimensions. That has to be like, so much more powerful than your average lightning strike (which explains why Danny can handle getting zapped so many times in the show, nothing could ever possibly compare to the amount of electricity needed to open a fucking hole between dimensions. He still probably hates/is fearful of getting zapped though).

And then, like the batshit amount of electricity involved wasn’t enough, the portal basically opened up right on top of him. Like- Danny basically became a conductor for both the electricity and the ectoplasm to pass through- that’s probably how the portal stabilized to be honest, by using Danny as a conductor....It might’ve exploded if the extra energy hadn’t gone into Danny’s body.

The way the whole “became a half ghost thing” would’ve worked in my mind is that the electricity like,,, fried an entire section of Danny’s DNA??? Like it just outright destroyed an entire fraction of it, and ectoplasm took it’s place. This’d be different from say, Vlad’s case where it was likely more like the ectoplasm slowly destroyed part of his DNA until it managed to find some form of unsteady balance. In human form the ectoplasm would mainly remain dormant, simply replacing the function of the missing pieces of DNA to keep Danny alive, which of course has the side effect of some powers leaking through.

In ghost form, the ectoplasm is active, and, notably, the DNA becomes inactive, and the ectoplasm forms it’s own extra things in order to keep Danny functioning. This is in part due to the rings Danny uses to transform- It’s incredibly likely that the rings are made of pure light, or electricity, and at that proximity to his being, it’s likely enough radiation to kill someone, which ironically enough, is exactly what it’s doing by awakening the ectoplasm and deactivating his human DNA.

As for Danny being more powerful, obviously the unfiltered pure ectoplasm in his veins is a factor, but it’s also likely due to his ectoplasm likely recording other abilities and replicating it. I mean- if it learned to replicate DNA, it can certainly replicate power, right? Which is why his powerset is so fucking wild. Obviously there are some powers he’d get anyways, like the standard set of intangibility, invisiblity, flight, the ghostly wail (likely a power specific to him due to dying screaming), ice (to counteract electricity), so on and so forth. Outside of the ones that are obviously sourced from his death/are obvious ghost powers, Danny’s ectoplasm learns. The more he’s hit by an attack, the more likely he is to learn it, as a kinda self defense mechanism. Yes this makes Danny ridiculously overpowers. Yes this is how I explain the Danny with weather powers incident.

Anyways. Yeah. Danny’s whole thing is fucking weird basically.

[ashboy-3]

Guess I'm More Powerful Now?

Written for Dannymay 2023 Day 8 Prompt: Electric Core Au Fandom: Danny Phantom Characters: Danny, Sam, Tucker, Frostbite Words: 763 Summary: Danny has been having electric pulse going through his body recently. . .now he has to go to Frostbite to figure out what's wrong

Danny was in burning pain. There was no other way to describe what he was feeling. It felt like his insides were burning from the inside. A foreign feeling thanks to his Ice Core. 

Not only was he in pain, but he was shocked every time he touched a piece of metal. It wasn’t a standard static electricity shock but a shock that was built up and looking at his hand he could see the burn marks left after he closed the door to his house.

Walking down the street Danny felt eyes on him as he shook his body, trying to get the currents out. With luck maybe this was a normal thing and not some ghostly thing. Knowing he was going to be proved wrong he still asked the ancients.

“Danny? You good dude?” Tucker asked as his best friend slid into the booth at the Nastay Burger, hissing as his hand touched the metal table.

“I’m fine. Just keep getting shocked every time I touch the table,” he grumbled, laying his head on the table, ignoring the visible electricity that shot through him. This was definitely getting old.

“Maybe you should go talk to Frostbite,” Sam brought up, taking a bite of her Veggie Burger, and pushing the extra fries towards Danny.

“I’m really hoping this isn't a ghost thing,” Danny groaned, grabbing a few fries to stuff into his face hole.

“Well normal people are not violently shocked every time they touch metal,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“I identify as being normal,” Danny declared, putting a fist in the air, his head still not leaving the table.

“You can’t identify as being normal. You’re like the coolest guy we know,” Tucker stated.

“Are you saying my identity isn’t valid,” Danny moved his head to glare at his friends, a playful smile on his face.

“Your made-up identity of normal is not valid,” Sam assured him.

“Damn,” Danny groaned.

“So Frostbitw?” Tucker asked.

“Fine I’ll go to Frostbite,” Danny blurted as he got out of the booth, groaning and making his friends annoyed, but they still followed him to the back of the restaurant.

“I’ll be back soon. . .hopefully,” Danny started to make a portal, a power he is very happy that he gained.

“Don’t worry dude we got you covered,” Tucker assured as Danny jumped in the portal, making his way to the far frozen.

“Great one! How wonderful to see you!” Frostbite greeted.

“Hey, Frostbite. Got a bit of a problem. Got a place we can talk?” Danny asked, trying to avoid the oncoming twitches.

“This way,” Frostbite led him through the village as they reached the medic hut. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I have this feeling of burning constantly. It’s like it’s fighting my ice core. I get badly zapped every time I touch metal. What is wrong with me?” Danny asked, trying to avoid touching the metal table.

“Sounds like a secondary core,” Frostbite shrugged.

“I can’t have two cores!” Danny panicked.

“Calm down Great One. Multiple cores are given to those who show a tremendous amount of power. Now since it sounds like an electric core it will be fighting your ice core. We do have ways to fix this. We can train you to use your ice core, or if you would rather we can temporary remove it.”

“Remove it?”

“Temporarily. We do not offer this for those with one core as that is what helps a ghost form. Those who have secondary cores can have it removed and destroyed, but it will be formed again. This is not a permanent solution,” Frostbite warned.

“Train me,” Danny groaned, already knowing what he was in for.

It took Danny going back to the Far Frozen every day for two weeks straight before he finally got the electric core down to stop hurting his ice core. It felt nice to no longer be in constant pain. Not only did the pain stop, but he was also no longer being zapped. He was also informed as to why he ended up with an electric core of all things.

Turns out it was his death. When you grow powerful and gain a secondary core life likes to make fun of you and give you how you died as a core. Danny didn’t find it funny.

He still had a lot to learn on how to use his core and he still had to go to the Far Frozen at least once a week, but for being in constant pain and now breathing better he’ll take it.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Zap was having a bad day on the Death Star. A very bad day. First, his alarm hadn’t gone off, so he had very nearly been late for his electrical engineering shift, and then he had been assigned to — ugh — garbage duty of all things. That wasn’t his job at all, but someone had to do it and Commander Tarkin had decided it fair to randomly assign someone to that duty rather than hire someone. Zap didn’t know whether it was to remind everyone of their place, or just to cut back on staff.

Just when Zap had hoped his duties as garbage boy was over, nope! His bad day continued. The pressure maintenance hatch to the garbage chute wouldn’t open. He groaned and dropped the garbage, thumping his forehead against the hatch. He fought against the urge to think of how things could get worse and instead thought, Well, at least I brought my tool kit with me. I should be able to get this working, right? He took out his tools and got to work.

His name wasn’t really Zap, of course. It was actually Darro Zapal. He had just earned the nickname because of —

*zap* — that. Zap flinched and shook out his hand. He considered himself to be a good engineer, on his way to becoming a great one. However, he had a tendency to get himself shocked in the process. His fellow engineers loved to tease him for it: thus, his nickname.

It wasn’t entirely Zap’s fault he was shocking himself. There was another reason for being so careless. Being onboard the Death Star was messing with him. You see, Zap hadn’t expected to be in the presence of Lord Vader so early in his career and it was quite shocking (pun intended) to his nerves when he had been assigned to work on the Death Star. A great honor, of course, but an anxiety-inducing one.

Even more so, now that it was becoming increasingly obvious Zap could not fix this problem on his own. He was going to have to call for backup soon. He was reluctant to — since he would be made fun of for both his garbage duty and being unable to solve this simple problem on his own (not to mention they would probably ask how many times he had shocked himself) — but it would have to be done.

Just as he was about use his comlink to hail one of his coworkers, he heard loud, clanking footsteps heading his way. He figured it was one of the stormtroopers, but when he turned to look it was — him. Lord Vader!

Zap didn’t consider himself a nervous man, but he had feared dying by Lord Vader’s hands ever since he had stepped foot on the Death Star. He even had nightmares of being choked by that strange invisible force Lord Vader used and he would often wake up sweating, clutching at his throat.

His superiors had warned him never to look Lord Vader in the eyes (or, at least, the eyes on his mask) and to not speak unless spoken to. Zap had hoped to avoid encountering Lord Vader at all, but apparently the universe thought his bad day could indeed get worse!

He swallowed down his fear and decided to go back to work. After all, if he looked busy, Lord Vader should simply pass down the hallway and ignore his presence entirely right? It wasn’t as if he was there simply to punish Zap!

As long as he was extra careful and didn’t — *zap*! Oh, great. Just what he needed. Lord Vader had been passing by him, but now he stopped and looked at him, taking notice. Seeing his incompetency. His failure. Sweat ran down Zap’s back and he tried extremely hard not to show visible signs of trembling. It wasn’t working.

Lord Vader came up beside him. He looked at him, then looked at the panel that opened the maintenance hatch, now dissembled and showing its wires.

“Why are you working on this?” Lord Vader’s voice rumbled, somehow having both the tone of a beeping machine and the boom of thunder.

Zap, belatedly remembering etiquette, bowed. “Lord Vader, sir! The maintenance hatch to the trash compactor would not open and I took it upon myself to try to fix it.” Perhaps if Lord Vader knew Zap had taken the initiative on his own, he wouldn’t be killed! A desperate tactic, to be sure.

“Hm.” Lord Vader examined the panel and wiring more closely. “Hand me your electronics diagnostics tool kit, please.”

Had—had Lord Vader just asked for his tool kit…politely? Zap was too stunned to do anything.

Lord Vader turned his head and saw that no action had been taken. “Now!” he boomed.

That was more like it. Zap packed up any remaining tools and immediately handed him the tool kit — still scared, but now he had a twinge of curiosity. Was Lord Vader, the right hand of the Galactic Empire, going to do what he thought he was going to do?

Sure enough, Lord Vader immediately set to work on fixing the control panel, occasionally asking for assistance or an extra tool along the way. Zap tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to be in awe of the man he had feared the most working beside him in silence, as if they were coworkers. As if they were equals. It wasn’t even an oppressive or uncomfortable silence, either, it was…almost nice. It helped that Lord Vader seemed so absorbed in his work at the expense of all else. Zap probably could’ve been a fly on the wall for all he was noticed. For some, that would have been insulting. For him, it was a relief.

Finally, Lord Vader asked for a screwdriver to screw the paneling back on. Once it was on, Zap tried the button to the maintenance hatch and - *whoosh* - it opened!!

Zap almost laughed in delight before he caught himself. He didn’t know if laughing in front of Lord Vader was punishable by death, but he wasn’t about to find out. He was more than lucky he had reacted to Zap’s incompetence by helping him fix the problem, rather than the usual solution…

Zap bowed again. “Thank you, Lord Vader! I am deeply grateful to you for all of your help, sir.” He was probably laying it on a bit thick, but flattery wouldn’t hurt in this case.

Lord Vader, to his surprise, seemed to wave his praise off. “It proved an interesting study. I have not been able to work on anything electrical in some time. I do have one more question, however.”

Zap’s stomach dropped as if he were suddenly being launched into space. A question? What could it possibly be? Was this the part where Lord Vader simply ended his life? “Yes, of course, sir. I will answer any question you have.”

“Is there a reason you’re not wearing electrical gloves?”

Zap’s fingers trembled. The exact question he hoped Lord Vader wouldn’t ask. Still, he had to be honest. He was a terrible liar, and he happened to know lying to Lord Vader was punishable by death.

Zap took a deep breath, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

There was a beat of silence and while Zap couldn’t see it, he could almost feel Lord Vader raise an eyebrow. “You may.”

“I did have electrical gloves when I was first recruited by the Empire, as all engineering recruits are given. However, one morning when I went to grab my tools for my shift, they were missing. I believe someone was pranking me, though I can’t prove that. Of course, I had to complete my shift and there weren’t any extra gloves, so it was business as usual until I…shocked myself.

“The other engineers got a good laugh out of this and when I asked for one of their pairs to borrow, one of them said they would rather watch the ‘Zap Show’ instead. That’s when I got my nickname — Zap.

“Since then, I have requested electrical gloves on every ship I have been assigned to. In fact, putting in my request is one of the first things I do when I am assigned to a new ship. No matter what ship, there never seems to be enough gloves to go around and my request is denied. I asked if I could buy some of my own, but I was told that I could only use ‘Imperial-approved gloves’ and those can only be found on an Imperial ship. I’ve accepted that I will not be getting gloves at this point.”

Zap clenched his hands into a fist. It was the first time he had ever admitted any of this out loud, and to Lord Vader, of all people. It probably sounded so unbelievable. Zap hoped if he was killed for this, it would be quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the constriction around his throat to start.

“I see.” Lord Vader turned away from Zap and stormed down the hallway in his usual fashion, his cape sweeping behind him like a melancholy ghost.

Zap waited for him to round the corner (plus, a few extra seconds) before backing against the wall and hyperventilating, clutching his head in his hands. He had just survived his first encounter with Lord Vader. He had just admitted his most embarrassing secrets to Lord Vader. If this wasn’t the worst day of his life, it would almost be the funniest — in a twisted sort of way, that is.

Once he had calmed down a bit, Zap quickly dumped the almost-forgotten trash and grabbed his tools. As strange as this day was, he still had a shift to complete and it wouldn’t do to be caught in a state of anxiety.

The next day, Zap was given not one, not two, but ten pairs of electrical gloves by his supervisor, who apologized for the “misunderstanding.” A poor apology, but Zap wasn’t about to complain. He knew who he had to thank for this kindness. He just hoped he could make it up to Lord Vader someday.

Do u think Anakin's still into engineering in his Vader era

Like when there's a problem w his ship and his technicians are struggling to fix it does he ever show up like 'get out of the way' and start repairing the problem himself

[crowfeatherwolf]

Erskine’s formula issues - theory

So, I’m not jewish, so I’d need to do a TON of research and interviews to see if this is even possible within the culture. Therefore, anyone with the knowledge, feel free to edit and use if it gets your plotbunnies working. So this would be either a timetravel au, or just needs Dr. Strange to find whatever is left of Erskine’s notes during his tenure as Sorcerer Supreme. Could be something wrong with Cap OR Bruce, if this is post CW and Tony would only want to do stuff on Bruce’s behalf. Could also be an OC or lesser used super soldier serum receiver instead too. Whoever is needed isn’t too important. The big important bit is that Strange notices from the notes that Erskine was double dipping magic and science the way he sometimes does. Erskine, as according to the wiki, married into a jewish family if he wasn’t jewish himself. My HC is that he was using kabbalah and alchemical principles to make the serum. Thus red skull, since he’s a nazi, is gonna get a minor smiting seeing as he would not fit the role of protector (of the jewish people.) And THAT would be one of the big reasons why every attempt afterwards has not worked. No other scientist had a magical background that could recognize there was a fine print to the serum working right. Erskine was screening not just for personal honor (why Bruce gets green but relatively stable) but also for social honor and ability to work towards the safety of his people (why Bruce’s version doesn’t work right. His mind isn’t focused on the intent and mental state Erskine required as part of the magical calculations of making the serum work.) Red hulk is unstable because as a yt soldier guy in the contemporary US army, he either got picked by a Hydra plant who wouldn’t be too keen on any jewish sympathies, or just got the general US racism issues. He also had desire for personal power, and so got the double zap into berserker. Erskine knew other people were gonna try to copy his formula, and he doesn’t have to be Moses to plant some bad side effects on an assumed enemy’s camp. Instead of getting a super soldier you get an uncontrollable rage monster set to destroy their own lab to ensure no one else tries that again. But of course, since Erskine never says any of the magic side stuff out loud, you get ethical scientists like Bruce getting zapped by minor smity for not fitting the magical requirements.  If Erskine had survived, Steve would probably have gotten a rundown of how it’d all work, and if there’s a similar concept to shabbos goy outside saturdays (or something like having to follow extra commandments to non jewish people while still not having to convert) Steve would probably fall under that umbrella as legal issues and definitions seem to be half the fun of jewish informed magic systems. Other big reason for failure could be alchemical in nature. There needs to be an exchange or balance from the serum maker to make the process work. I’m guessing Erskine would have structed it as a lifetime of duty, or similar act for the jewish community, but the assassination and losing his life in service would have followed the intent of the spell as well to keep Cap from getting any backlash from Erskine not being able to put the rest of his natural life span in service to his people. Butterflies from there. Evidence that Cap and any serum recipients can be classified as magical issues could allow for a lot of aid with issues like Bucky if it’s before CW, or else with getting the serum magically classified to keep extremis 2 electric boogaloo or similar from happening. Bucky, as a soldier POW who helped raid and free some of the camps would be the only other safe person because though intent matters, Bucky having been logged as freeing and aiding jewish people during the war would weigh more, along with the rebound against the hydra scientists forcing him to take it. Having actually done the stuff specified by Erskine would allow for a lot more leeway with intent clauses. I’m writing this at 2am. Hope this is coherent and not done already. Haven’t seen it in any fics I’ve read yet at least.

[salmonskinrolltf]

Shower Scene

A transformation story inspired by Scream 2022. Contains no spoilers for the ending of the film!

While jogging around the neighborhood, Wes’s phone started to ring. He sat at a nearby picnic table and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Is this Wes Hicks?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Oh, you know exactly who this is…”

A chill went up Wes’ spine as he recognized the voice. Ghostface! The killer who had been terrorizing him and his friends.

“Let me guess… You want to know what my favorite scary movie is?”

“Not exactly. See, I have a little proposition for you, Wes.”

“If you think I’m working with you, you’re crazier than you sound.”

“No, no, boy. I don’t need the help,” the menacing voice intoned. “Here’s the thing. You’re on my hit list. I’m targeting teens related to people involved in the original killings, and your mom was around during the Roberts killings in 2011. So that would mean you’re next.”

Wes frowned. “And you’re warning me why?”

“You’re a cute guy, Wes. I wouldn’t want to have to rip you apart. Here's your question: What if I could offer you a way out?”

“A way out how?”

“What if you weren’t related to Sheriff Hicks? What if you weren’t born in Woodsboro in the 90’s? You’d be safe. Would you like that?”

“Well yeah, of course, but I don’t see how-“

“A yes was all I needed, Wes. Thanks for playing.”

Ghostface hung up and Wes felt a zap of electricity shoot through his hand, sending a tingling feeling through the rest of his body. He stared at his phone in confusion. Well, THAT wasn’t anything like any of the other calls his friends had gotten.

As he jogged home, he thought over what Ghostface had offered him. Sure, it would be nice if he wasn’t on the chopping block, but he wouldn’t want to be away from his friends or his mom. He shook his head. He was being stupid. It’s not like that offer was a real thing anyway. Making sure to deadbolt the front door when he got home, he headed upstairs, stripped off his sweaty clothes, revealing his skinny and hairless body, and hopped in the shower.

He saw a flash of black in the reflection of the shower door and did a quick double take to make sure no cloaked figure with a mask and a knife was lurking behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief, failing to notice that what he had registered subconsciously as movement was actually a small patch of dark black hair growing from the center of his chest.

As he turned on the shower and let the water run over his body, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. His chest tickled a little as the patch of hair began to spread, sending a light dusting across his pecs in either direction, some small tendrils even drifting up toward his neck. As he breathed he sucked in his stomach, and it never expanded back out, the skin rippling as muscle bubbled underneath. He began soaping up his chest, and noticed the extra movement of the wet hairs trailing along with his fingers. What the -

He opened his eyes to see the brand new hairs gracing his torso. And below his chest stood a tight six pack that barreled out his abdomen. He almost screamed, but for some reason the sight of his new hair and muscle made his dick stand to attention, throbbing so hard it seemed like it had grown an extra inch. Or even two. As the blood rushed downward, all he could think about was how horny he was, and his new fur slipped entirely from his mind.

He slithered one hand down his body and made a tight fist around his cock, pumping back and forth while thinking of his crush, Tara Carpenter. He’d had a crush on her since grade school. Her dark hair, her thick lashes, her sculpted pecs with that dusting of fuzz…

Wait, what?

He realized his mental image of Tara had been replaced with one of his other friend, Chad Meeks-Martin. When had that happened? Had he been thinking of him the whole time? And why was his dick still rock hard, straining into his hand as he thought of Chad's most recent Instagram photo and the way his chest hair and tattoo poked out of his shirt collar?

Fuck! His dick jolted with pleasure and he released it with a start. No, no, no. This was too weird. He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, reaching for his phone and heading to his room as quickly as possible. He needed to get a grip on himself! He didn’t notice that his iPhone felt weirdly bulky in his hand, like it was a model from a couple years earlier.

Once he got dressed, he decided a good long drive might clear his mind. He headed out to the driveway, where his trusty, beat-up 1992 sedan waited for him. He noticed it looked particularly clean this morning. And didn’t there used to be a patch of rust on the roof? Whatever. He needed out. He decided to drive to Tara’s house and see if she needed anything. Yeah, that was the move. Chad would appreciate- No, not Chad. He was going to CHAD’S house. Yeah, that’s where he was going. He wasn’t sure why he’d already started heading in the opposite direction. He flipped a U-turn and made for the Meeks-Martin residence.

As he drove, his whole head began to itch something fierce. Well, not the whole head. Just the top and bottom, not really anything in the middle, but the bookend effect was driving him crazy. He ran his fingers along his scalp, mussing up his hair in the process, not noticing that the strands were ever so slightly longer. He scratched the rough stubble on his chin, feeling the coarse speckles soften as hairs elongated from the follicles, seeming to be pulled out with the force of his scratching, until his entire face was coated in a downy chestnut beard.

Something felt wrong again. He looked at himself in the mirror and was startled to see the patchy beard that had grown in seemingly in seconds. How hadn’t he noticed that? But all thoughts were driven from his mind as his dick surged with pleasure once more. He grabbed his crotch, adjusting his junk in his jeans as he continued heading to Chad’s.

His mind became bleary and the world in front of him seemed to blur somewhat. Must be the stress. He tried to focus his eyes on the road in front of him so he didn’t crash. That’s why he didn’t notice his chest pumping up with muscle, straining at the baggy sweater he’d thrown on before leaving the house. His pants similarly strained against his quads and calves as they expanded like sausage casings being filled.

He scratched at his chest as thousands of tiny pinpricks of itchiness exploded across his torso, which distracted him from the continued itching on his chin as his beard filled out into a lush, thickly arranged carpet.

He was ultimately too busy trying to keep an eye on the car ahead of him, which seemed to keep changing color. And becoming an older and older model, too! It was weirding him out. He finally parked in front of the Meeks-Martin residence and stepped out, not noticing that his car was now shiny and new as if he’d just driven off the lot with it. He walked up to the front door, but stopped when he noticed that it was painted a completely different color. Did he have the wrong house? And was he… wearing the wrong clothes? With a start, he noticed he had on a plain white tee layered with a suave jacket that he certainly hadn’t been wearing earlier. Or at least, not that he remembered?

What had he done before driving over here? He remembered taking a shower. What had he done before that? Watched an episode of Cheers, yes! He remembered laughing at something or other that Sam had said. And ogling the pecs on a particularly built guest star playing a delivery boy. And then he’d been on the phone and accidentally knocked the TV off the counter with the cord. Before that was still fuzzy, but he didn’t need to bother remembering right now. All he needed to do was remember what he was doing HERE. Oh yes of course, the photo shoot. He knocked on the door. While he waited, he scratched at his chest, which was still feeling weirdly tingly. A man in a leather vest answered the door with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

He scowled at a clipboard. “Name?”

Wes smiled. “Wes. Wes Dalton.”

“Yup, there you are. Come on in, it’s the third door on the left.”

***************

Sheriff Judy Hicks was looking through a locker full of contraband that had been confiscated from various high school students over the years. Ghostface had just given her a particularly puzzling call, saying that he was “remaking more than just Stab,” and she wanted to follow up on her suspicions that the killer was one of the local teens.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, but she sighed as she pawed through numerous cherry bombs. She’d always wanted to have a kid of her own, but at least she didn’t have to worry about dealing with a high schooler in the house.

She pulled out an ancient gay porno mag that must have been confiscated in the 90’s. She checked the date. Yup, 1992. She looked at the cover model with a start. She had no reason to know who some 90’s porno model named Wes Dalton was, but he looked terribly familiar for some reason.

Underneath the magazine she found an old Colt calendar from eight years after that. She was surprised to see it featured the exact same model. Wes had clearly filled out, and his blonde tips were more subdued, way less 90’s. It was weird seeing a man age before her eyes like that. She found herself wondering what the model was up to these days, but shook her head and returned to the task at hand.

Remaking more than just Stab… What could that possibly mean?

[miraeluc]

you have an eating disorder

prompt: “you never had issues with food - that is until your boyfriend makes a remark about your weight.”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female! reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: MAJOR TW!! anorexia, there’s swearing

genre: fluff, angst 

NOTE: this is not proofread at all and it’s kinda short, i was struggling to finish it a lot, sorry :(

you were never one to pay special attention to your diet or anything

life is short, why spend it worrying about how your body looks?

food is food man, and you need it to live 

there was no fun in dieting either, it’s not like you were ever fat anyway - with daily training you were in shape!

sure there were thinner girls, but like i mentioned, you just liked enjoying food without having to worry about losing weight all the time 

your boyfriend, bakugo, just does not know how to express himself 

he’s not the type to really pay any mind to your figure, he finds you pretty anyway 

and its a plus anyway - whenever he feels full he can just push his plate towards you and you’ll gladly finish it for him 

that is until one day

you were sitting with the baku squad at lunch

mina was telling you about a new tiktok trend she had stumbled upon and found hilarious 

denki was currently fighting for his life against bakugo after saying his hair looked like he was just hit by an electricity quirk before he proceeded to zap him lightly 

kirishima was regretting all of his life decisions when he decided to try and help denki 

sero was just sat there,, recording it so he could show them just how stupid they looked afterwards

kirishima finally managed to pull said angry-boy away from kaminari 

you always said he’s like a little angry pomeranian when angry lol 

back to the plot omg i got carried away

after bakugo was calm enough to take his initial seat beside you, he was already too full and just overall not hungry

so he pushed his plate towards you 

“eat up, fatass.” he grumbled out

you just looked up at him with wide doe-eyes, not expecting an insult to slip off his tongue

it was bakugo, what’d you expect lmao 

you looked down at the plate, suddenly feeling very not hungry anymore, instead pushing the plate away as you grabbed your bag to stand up

“actually, i’ll head up to my room, i feel a bit sick”

you immediately left after that, not seeing the confused glances the table exchanged, mina smacking bakugo’s head

you went to your room and laid down, not knowing why bakugo’s comment had made you feel upset

you never get upset when he makes dumb remarks!!

so why now!!

oh 

you realised it when you were stood in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, staring at your own body

you did gain some weight.

you were upset at yourself because you usually didn’t mind!!

you know weight fluctuates, you know the small amount of chub you have will eventually pack it’s little bags and leave again 

but it hurt because you wanted to be pretty for your boyfriend.

how could you be when he says you’re a fatass?

eventually, you ended up scrolling through your phone, looking at thin girls all day

you also looked up a few diets that worked very fast 

by the time bakugo was aggressively knocking at your door you had closed all of the pages you were previously looking at 

as soon as you swung the door open he strutted in, seating himself on your bed

“what was with you running off at lunch today?” he looked at you 

you were still stood at your door like.... mm ok i guess make yourself at home 

“huh? i told you, i felt a little sick.” you mumbled, closing the door again, it was getting late and you were not looking to be beheaded by aizawa

he scoffed “if you say so.” he laid down, kicking your blanket to the side

“i brought you some snacks - incase you got hungry..” he said, his face looking like >:( 

he didn’t get them because he knew you liked them and wanted to make you happy! not at all!!

he just didn’t want to put up with you being whiny

that’s for sure the reason 

you giggled, throwing yourself ontop of him - sounds of protest coming from him but he did wrap his arms around you 

“since when are you so nice, katsuki?!” you teased

lol wrong move 

in 0.01 seconds you were flipped over and held down as he started tickling you 

“i’m not nice!”

the next morning you left extra early to avoid getting breakfast with bakugo

he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, he also has days where he just doesn’t feel like eating early in the morning so 

it does start to bother him when that one day of skipping breakfast turned into every day

his google search bar is like 

‘why does my gf not eat’

‘do girls not eat breakfast’

but this bitch is also too scared to approach you at first because he doesnt want you to know he truly cares 

his ego is still too high for that 

but you know better

you know he cares but sometimes you don’t feel good enough for him

you can’t help but compare yourself to other girls at your school

you distance yourself unknowingly, lost in the counting calories and exercising every day

everyone but you notices that you’re literally spiraling 

you don’t notice that you look sick, skin paling and cheekbones getting more prominent every passing day 

you don’t notice the growing eyebags under your eyes 

all you notice is other pretty girls and how you want to look like them.

at first, your friends decide to give you some space, thinking that maybe you have to fix this within yourself and need space

and you do, but someone needs to snap you out of your little bubble 

that someone is bakugo 

so it goes like this 

during training, he noticed your legs being a little more wobbly than usual 

and he noticed that you were unfocused, not being able to dodge all of the enemies attacks 

but something inside of him snaps when aizawa has to stop the fight because you were not even fighting back anymore

before aizawa even arrived in front of you, your world went black and you collapsed

bakugo was so angry at your training enemy 

didn’t they fucking see your struggle?? 

did they really have to be stopped by their teacher??

would they even have stopped if it werent for aizawa?? 

probably not

but he didnt have time to go and yell at them because he was running towards you 

aizawa let him pick you up

“bring her to recovery girl.”

of course he did 

everyone watching was so shocked 

because bakugo didn’t let out a sound the entire time 

his face was pulled into a frown, as usual, but he wasn’t speaking- no, yelling

he showed past his classmates, walking towards recovery girl’s office

“ribbit, why was he so quiet?”

recovery girl was like ?!?!?! what the fuck happened when was the last time she ate

she had to give you a total parenteral nutrition

(that means nutrition/fluids are delivered into your body via a catheter placed in a vein of your body, usually lower arm)

when you woke up bakugo was sat next to the bed, reading the back of some medicine bottle he found there

when he noticed you awake he perked up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing

“what happened?” 

he narrowed his eyes, wondering for a second if you were serious 

“you’re starving yourself to near death, that’s what happened.”

you immediately grimaced

“did i pass out in front of everyone?”

“is that seriously what you’re worried about?!”

you remained quiet, looking away

“y/n, look at me.” he gently guided your head to face him

“i don’t know what drove you to do this to yourself, but i need you to stop. you’re going to die if you don’t stop. what idiot made you think you need to do this to yourself?! i’ll kill them!”

..

“you told me i was a fatass”

his jaw dropped

fuck

“you know i don’t mean when i insult you! i hide the fucking fact that i WANT you to eat by using insults! i’m so sorry..”

his voice went soft at the end

he truly felt so bad :(

he was the one that was supposed to protect you from others hurting you yet here he was, being the one that caused you to hink you weren’t worthy enough

“i know, but there’s so many much more prettier girls than me, i was afraid you’d lose feelings if i wasn’t thin enough.”

“are you kidding?! you’re the only one i have eyes for! all those other extra’s can fuck off, i don’t give a single shit about them!”

you were kinda tearing up

“do you promise?”

god, he felt so bad.

he sat on the edge of the bed, reluctantly pulling you in a hug 

“i promise”

from that day on he made sure to remind you to eat meals, even if it was just something small

he ripped everyone’s heads off if they made a comment about your eating habits and/or weight

and he made sure you were the only one he loved

the day he saw you collapse something broke inside of him

it opened his eyes that hiding his emotions from you wouldn’t help you in your relationship

so while he supported you to build your feelings of self-worth and eating habits, you helped him start to open up, teaching him that showing emotions wasn’t embarassing

no one else knew how soft he could get with you and it should stay that way

you had a long way to go but it was all worth it in the end

he was your little angry pomeranian <33

requests: open

read rules before requesting.

[kittydemon9000]

SO MERLOPIAN KAI PART 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

So, with Kalmaar, he ofc immediately goes to his parents about his feeling, slightly placing his revenge on hold. They are...dubious about it, but Maya raises the point of how there has never been a human/merlopian hybrid before, and from what Ray has told them about having two EM parents it’s possible for Kai to have some water abilities himself, which could be what gave Kalmaar his feeling. So, they agree to look into it.

Moving on..... Uh. Kai doesn’t have a fun time in S6, as briefly as he’s there. You see, Nahdakahn knows exactly what buttons to press and is able to get Kai into a panicked state where he, on the verge of a panic attack and mental breakdown, just says “I wish that I could just be normal! I wish I could just go home! I wish I could be with dad and mom and father and Kal and Bentho and Nya!!!”

The “normal” comment comes from how they weren’t able to completely hide Kai’s heritage since yeah, there were other people on the boat who saw him. That and he also tried a lot less to keep it hidden. And because some humans are assholes, he has to deal with that.

So ofc, Nahdakahn interprets it in the worst ways and as two wishes. Kai is now a full human yes….but was also sent to where the fish fam currently were……which just so happened to be at the bottom of the ocean.

So yeah, double trauma for both groups. Kai got to experience what drowning felt like, and his fam was essentially forced to watch him die since there was nothing they could do. They were too far under to take him to the surface and too far from the palace to take him there.

But dw, it gets even worse.

You see, the whole reason Nahdakahn is being this malicious about Kai’s wishes is because he learned that Kai was the reason the Preeminent was destroyed, thereby destroying Djinjago.

Nahdakahn is then able to do a “oh? Is this not what you wanted? I thought you wished to be normal.” Which ofc sounds really bad since it’s in front of his family. “But, I understand. You grow tired of the stares in the street, how they whisper behind you back about what you are. Not human, not merlopian, not normal. Just a freak masquerading as one of them.”

This ofc supremely pisses off the fam. Like, weapons drawn ready to commit murder.

But then Nahdakahn stop them with a “ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. After all, I am the only way your son has a chance at living. So go ahead. Make a wish.”

Trimaar ends up being the one to do it, and is smart enough to know this uh will twist it in anyway he can so says. “I wish for Kai to be sent safely to the surface without harm done upon him.”

Blah blah blah, your wish is yours to keep, Trimaar realizing “wait there’s a lot that could be interpreted” but too late BAM now Kai’s kinda stuck on the Misfortune’s Keep.

And he....generally has a pretty bad time. Think Jay but this time it’s personal.

However, Kai’s appearance had Trimaar get the Merlopian army and start heading to the surface. The remaining ninja have a brief moment of “are you kidding me two enemies at once” before learning that this is Kai’s lost family and they’re here to help.

So now the ninja have a whole ass fish army to help them, plus a very protective, very angry fish family.

But for the rest of canon, the only difference is that when they’re leaving Tiger Widow Island, Nya gets snatched along with Jay(who was taken because he hadn’t used his wish yet) and they aren’t stuck on the island, and then later that Kai gets sucked into the sword when the ninja launch their rescue mission.

But yeah, it gets all Un-Happened by Jay’s wish(which at seeing Kai physically hurt and being emotionally torn apart at his baby sister dying, wished that none of this ever happened and that Nahdakahn was never found), only like canon Nya and Jay still remember what happens.

Nya is now firmly on team Kai Is Alive and tells her parents everything about what happened and the wish Jay made, and more importantly where Kai is.

Unfortunately, they need to take some time and prepare. Trimaar and Maya have been doing their best over the years to open the populace possibly making bonds with the humans, but now it’s finally happening. They can’t just go up there out of no where, since from what Nya has told them 1) most humans don’t even know they exist and 2) in the past few years they have been subject of many attacks, mostly from non-humans, so they need to make sure the humans understand they don’t mean any harm.

So DotD happens, then the beginnings of S7 :)

Right out, Kai never liked the museum curator. Up to that point he’d only ever caught fleeting glimpse of him but something about him Kai just despised. As a result, he also visited the museum as scarcely as possible, and thus didn’t notice a very interesting painting containing a two very strange figures.

When he learns his name was Dr.Saunders.....things don’t go well.

It happened when Kai brought the helmet with his dad’s symbol on it. As much as he disliked the curator, he was the most likely to be able to recognize what kind of helmet it was.

Then in his anger he gets himself captured.

He’s taken to a special cell lined with vengestone and has guards around the clock, and Krux takes extra care to make sure Kai doesn’t know where Ray is.

ofc it’s around this time that the Merlopians arrive and express their wishes for a possible alliance between their two races. Unfortunately they showed up at literally the worst time, and double unfortunately the people in charge of diplomacy decide to bring some of the ninja in as an extra precaution because of the villains have been running around.

So the people who join the meeting are Lloyd and Jay from the ninja(they would’ve brought Kai but he hasn’t returned from his missions yet and isn’t answering their calls) as well as some police officers and from the Merlopians is the whole royal family plus a few guards.

Both Jay and Nya have a silent moment of staring at each other since “I know and I’m not sure you know but I think you know but I don’t want to say anything since you might not”

And just as they’re about to start, The Time Twins attack. Because why the hell not.

They’re actually able to hold them off for a while, but unfortunately there are too many Vermillion. Then Kalmaar whips out his Water Powers which causes him to get kidnapped since they need both Fire and Water masters for the blade.

While they’re recovering, Lloyd then gets a panicked call from Zane saying that he checked the museum footage and Kai has been captured. The gets overheard by the royal family, and then Lloyd asks why they looked so upset at which they learn(sans Jay since wish) that Kai is royalty. The eldest son actually, and thus first in line for the throne, as well as being presumed dead for the past five years.

So basically Krux has kidnapped the King and Queen’s husband, the crown prince, and the second in line prince(if anyone knows a more fancy term for this please let me know)

Maya, Trimaar, Nya and Benthomaar are not happy. Not with the Ninjagian people, no they’re fine, but they’re bout ready to murder Krux, and they don’t even know about Ray yet.

So they offer any help they can.

Zap back to how Kai and Kalmaar are doing.

Kalmaar is….kind feral tbh. Like, he’s biting, clawing, trying to strangle them with his tentacles, and before they got vengestone cuffs on him was trying very hard to drown anyone.

Ofc, this does little to the Vermillion and soon Kalmaar finds himself in the cell right next to Kai’s. He’s overjoyed to see his brother again, albeit upset that this is why.

They both reluctantly come to the conclusion that there isn’t much they can do at the moment, and there are many Vermillion guards right outside their cells, so they decide to start catching up.

And for pretty much the rest of the season canon is pretty much the same, just shuffle around the characters a bit and add a protective Fish Fam. 

Though their little trip back in time is quite sight for the Past EMs, especially because of how Kalmaar is using his powers, which leaves Kai mostly stuck in his Fish Form. This time they don’t even bother trying to explain, just give instructions on how to defeat the Vermillion and jumping into the battle. 

And I mean just imagine that from the EMs perspective. An enemy you thought you defeated just returned with a giant metal creature and an army of snake things that don’t look like any kind of Serpentine they’d ever seen. Then a shark person and squid person??? show up and not only do they know how to fight the snake things but they also seem to be Elemental Masters???? Despite the fact Ray is very much alive and they didn’t even know there was a Water EM. Then the two not only summon dragons but they also fuse their dragons into an even bigger one with two heads.

And then all of them disappear into the sky without a trace.

W i l d

But yeah, after that it calms down quite a bit. Kai spends the time skip before S8 reconnecting with his family and his dad, and through some tech courtesy of Borg they're able to bring Ray with them :D

And Kai actually goes to meet the Jade Royal Family since y’know. He’s the crown prince. He’s kinda important and legitimately forgot about it. Luckily Kalmaar is able to help coach Kai through it, but is also a bit smug about how he finally has something to teach to his older brother. Kai was actually the one who suggested asking the ninja for help protecting the mask.....but we know how that inevitably ends.

Bentho, Kal and Nya were actually on the ship for this particular adventure, and then Nya and Bentho were dragged along when they got sent to the First Realm. Bentho, despite being the youngest sibling and to the surprise of literally everyone, was actually really good with kids and spent the most time with Little Wu, right behind Cole.

But yeah S9......Nya and Bentho have a really bad time in the First Realm beause of the heat, but at least they don’t get captured. Kai on the other hand....

Yeah at some point he gets accidentally splashed with water and well.....it definitely doesn’t help with the Oni accusations. The Dragon Hunters decide to burn him along with the Wind Dragon, which moves up their Build Our Own Dragon time table.

After they escape Faith is actually pretty chill about the whole fish thing, but she does ask a lot of questions. 

And then S10..... kinda the same. They end up dropping off as many people as they can with the Merlopians since the smoke can’t reach them.

I might make a Part 3 for the rest of the seasons, but yeah. this is where we’re at.

[hezurkubo]

When D’jinn meets Gene or “Dramatic Pot Twist!”

Hey there! Just wanted to start off by saying that in order to give this story the desired outcome I was looking for I added in some extra events that I thought could have canonically taken place during certain key moments in “The Last Adventure!” While we as the audience don’t know what happened to everyone else while the main characters were off driving the main plot along I still tried to come up with a side story that seemed plausible at least in terms of timing.

If I overlooked anything and it comes off as complete nonsense that throws off the original plot than please consider this an AU where the side characters play a more proactive role in kicking the butts of F.O.W.L.’s lackeys while our main cast took care of Bradford. This is mostly to satisfy my craving for a meeting that never happened in canon and I still hope that whoever decides to read enjoys this dumb story of mine. With that said.........

“SHABOOEY!”

That was all Gene managed to exclaim before he felt himself vanish in a dramatic flash. He found himself being dragged through the pocket void between realities, a place he’d frequented many times since his existence had been tied to the trinket he’d been forced to call home. While he had yet to feel the familiar power of the ‘Seal of Solion’ connecting him to his lamp, he knew it was only a matter of time.

 “Huh, wish I coulda at least thanked her for saving me. Guess now it’s back to the good ol...”

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather abrupt tug to the side through a sudden blinding light, giving Gene just enough time to let out a yelp before tumbling beak first onto a cold hard surface. Groaning as he got to his feet, the duck had to double-take as he got a first look at his surroundings. 

And it was, unfortunately, a very familiar site.

He’d become well acquainted with the row upon row of containment units in which the people F.O.W.L. saw as threats to their ‘final goal’ were imprisoned.

“Oh-keeeeey, so.... another dramatic plot twist, shoulda expected that in a ninety minute finale, though not so much for a short cameo appearance.”

Although he was pretty sure what would happen, and despite knowing the repercussions, Gene focused his power and winced in painful anticipation as he tried to will himself out of the current space he occupied.  

“Okey three, two, one...SHABOOEY!”

He felt a small spark of magic begin to bubble up within him, allowing him to hope that maybe he could....

ZAP!

The genie doubled over as a short but powerful electric shock coursed through his body. He had been unfortunate enough to witness others struggle for freedom and receive the same treatment, and while he doubted it’d be different for him he felt that he at least had to try. After all, he was magic and it couldn’t possibly hurt that bad....right?

He had been partially correct, but it was still VERY unpleasant.

Thankfully the shock wore off quickly, but rather than test his chances again he moved to the center of the cubicle and sat in the dark, drawing his legs into himself as he rested his arms atop of them and let out a sigh.

 “Guess old Blotty really made sure I couldn’t get out of dodge.”

“Not like I’d have a choice anyway...” Gene couldn’t help but think bitterly while resting the the bottom of his beak on his arm. He’d already exchanged one prison for another, so what difference did it make? 

Gene let the moments tick on by as he attempted to drown out everything else, which had so far been surprisingly easy despite being surrounded by people....

...And then, despite his best efforts, a familiar thought reared it’s ugly head.

Many of these people were trapped here because of him.

Because the Blot had used his power.

Because he had given him the information needed to capture them.

And he had watched helplessly, his screams for them to run drowned out by their own as they were zapped of their magic, easy for the Eggheads to swoop them up and bring them to this hopeless place while they waited to be done away with for good.

 And now Gene was here. He supposed it was fitting, as unwilling as an accomplice he had been in all of this, he still felt deep despair for having been used as a tool for the inevitable destruction of so many innocent lives.

And he would join them. Gene buried his head further into his lap, holding back sniffles as he felt his eyes stinging.

“...At least it’s roomier in here...”

“KA-BOOM!”

“Gyaaa!!! Bees!!! AAAHHH!”

The genie’s head quickly shot up, eyes widening as he took in the commotion echoing off the library’s lofty walls. Scrambling to his feet, he dashed to the front of his cell, pressing his ear against the glass. 

Someone was fighting out there, and from the sounds of it they were facing off against Steelbeak. 

The kid that had freed him, her friends were still fighting F.O.W.L.

Gene couldn’t fight the small smile that began to spread across his beak despite his teary eyes.

He would never be free, not even if he got out of here. But everyone else still had a chance. There was still hope that this could be made right.

“And the plot thickens!”

 __________

Faris Djinn watched helplessly from his prison as Scrooge’s allies valiantly fought against the rooster F.O.W.L. Agent. Clenching his fists to his sides, the desire to unsheathe his sword and join them against these honorless enemies boiled within him, but he knew it was of no use so long as he was trapped like this. Still, that gave him all the more reason to wish to help the group of birds somehow. This was finally everyone’s chance to escape! 

The canine warrior had been brought to this strange place after being ambushed and knocked unconscious by his cowardly foe, whom he had barely caught a glimpse of. When he woke up, he was surrounded by blocks of blacked out cubes in what looked like a giant storage facility. After about a day or two, he learned that his first assumptions had been somewhat true. 

From what he’d gathered through listening to hushed conversations exchanged while the security guards were busy, and from a few familiar faces detained with him, including his good friend Amunet, he came to realize they had been brought there because they had been labeled as dangerous by simply knowing or associating with Scrooge McDuck and his family. 

From close family members and friends to bitter enemies, or from good and bad to neutral, nobody seemed to be spared. It made D’jinn seethe at the injustice of it all, while villains such as the Beagle Boys and the infamous Magica de Spell may have deserved such treatment, this F.O.W.L. organization was indiscriminately locking away so many innocent people. He had even seen them lock up a couple of elderly ducks that could have easily passed as Scrooge’s own parents 

(Impossible, he thought, for a man of McDuck’s age)

 but not before the old woman had let loose a string of unintelligible words that D’jinn was pretty sure were some colorful expletives.

It appeared that the enemy had overlooked nothing, and any means of escape had been locked away along with them. The canine began to lose track of time as freedom seemed more and more impossible.

But D’jinn remained resolute that if anyone could pull off the impossible, it’d be Scrooge McDuck.

 Then, a strangely dressed duck decked in a dark flowing cape and hat swooped in, followed by his heavily armored companion, and while they were acting antagonistic towards each other the dog had a feeling they had come to help. His hopes soared even higher when Scrooge’s pilot crashed in after them. At last help had come.

Then that nefarious Steelbeak had chosen to fight underhandedly, controlling the Beagle Boys and the dread sorceress herself as the heroes fought valiantly back before being imprisoned as well, and any hope of freedom appeared to rest on the shoulders of Launchpad McQuack, Scrooge’s pilot.

 D’jinn winced as the poor duck was thrown about and beaten to the ground, unfairly outmatched in strength and numbers.

“Get back up!”

“You got this!”

As big and strong as he seemed in appearance, the warrior canine doubted the pilot could last at this rate, watching from the dark with urgency as he struggled to lift his head.

“Ugh... I’m sorry, I’m no hero...”

D’jinn shook with righteous indignation.

‘No! You cannot give up...!’

He couldn’t just stand by, there had to be something he could do to help, anything....

“That’s ridiculous! You helped inspire me to be a hero!”

He watched in anticipation as Launchpad gathered enough strength to look their way, unsure gaze focused on his friends as they encouraged him to keep fighting.

“And me pal.”

A new source of light brought their attention to the square that held the young red headed duck and the strangely proportioned robot child, both looking back at Launchpad with hope and confidence.

“Same here.” 

The prison above them lit up, revealing a familiar Moonlander.

“I as well, Earth Launchpad.”

The room quickly grew brighter as, one after another, everyone stepped forward to show the duck that they believed in him. 

And so did D’jinn.

His cubicle lit up as his hope returned.

“Blabbidy-Baloonersize!”

....Later....

Gene watched elated as scores of people poured out from their now-opened confines and began to wreak havoc on anyone unlucky enough to be a F.O.W.L. lackey. It was an unspoken call to arms, inspired by Scrooge’s pilot and, while the genie hadn’t seen what had actually happened, Steelbeak running away while screaming in terror was a pretty clear indication that the good guys were gaining the upper hand. 

Gene was so relieved that everyone had been freed, he almost missed Launchpad and company dashing towards the main entrance before slipping out of sight. 

He took another look around him, and couldn’t help but quirk the edges of his beak up in a mischievous grin.

  “Well.... dunno how long I’ll be sticking around for, might as well be part of the fun...”

“SHABOOEY!!!”

_______

There was low buzz followed by a click, and suddenly the front of his enclosure swung open. Eyes narrowing in careful focus, D’jinn stepped out from his prison and into what was quickly becoming a losing battle for F.O.W.L.’s remaining underlings.

Scrooge’s family had been triumphant, and he was now free to assist in thwarting what remained of their foes once and for all. The canine reached for his hip, unsheathing his sword and slicing it through the air before resting it with his arm against his side. The McDucks may be fighting greater forces, but that didn’t mean there weren’t loose ends to tie up.

“SHABOOEY!”

Ears perking under his keffiyeh, D’jinn turned to the side and lifted his head just in time to see something rather peculiar rounding the corner. It appeared to be a small duck, but he was gliding through the air as if there was nothing to it, a trail of smoke billowing from his lower body.

For a single moment, D’jinn lost his carefully guarded composure as his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped.

It was as if all those fantastic stories he’d heard growing up had come to life in front of him.

He recalled the hushed conversations among a few of his fellow prisoners, all regarding the terrifying power the Phantom Blot wielded when he came after them. 

However, what now came to the forefront of D’jinn’s mind were their descriptions of the strange and obviously magical little guy smooshed to an impossible degree within the Blot’s gauntlet. He didn’t quite understand what they could be referring to, but now, despite his usually serious demeanor, D’jinn couldn’t stop the small bit of wonderment from rising up in him, momentarily forgetting where he was.

“Could it really be...?” 

A loud crash from above followed by a chorus of screaming Eggheads brought him back to reality. The warrior shook his head, scowling to himself for losing focus.

“No, I must not waver! The task at hand requires a warrior’s spirit!”

Sword at the ready, D’jinn quickly made his way towards the sounds of fighting, the lingering thoughts of his ancestors replaced with the challenge to come. He still chanced to glance back one more time at the spot he had last seen that duck, hoping that he’d be able to see him again once all of this was over.

....Later....

With F.O.W.L. defeated and it’s remaining agents scattered, everyone wasted no time in congratulating the heroes of the hour, rushing at McDuck and family as they made their way down the library tower. It was a whirlwind of joyful cries and relieved sighs as the exhausted but happy family meandered amongst the crowd, breaking up into teams to prepare for their departure.

With everything finally settling down, Gene casually sat in midair as everyone else began to disperse and make preparations of their own, all the while chatting amongst each other. He figured it must have been a sense of camaraderie that came with surviving such an ordeal, and while he wished he could fully indulge in the same feelings of comfort, he couldn’t help but feel on edge. 

The powers that bound him to the lamp hadn’t reclaimed him yet. 

He knew that couldn’t last much longer, whatever forces the Phantom Blot had used to disrupt the seal’s power and separate him from his prison

....no, home....

wouldn’t be able to hold on their own, now that the Blot was gone and Gene was free from any magic-proof confinement. 

Earlier, before the extra trepidation had sunk in, he did try to enjoy his temporary freedom for as long as it lasted. 

And oh, how he wished it lasted. 

The genie chatted briefly with the young sorceress that had freed him, but not until after she and a younger hummingbird finally stopped hugging the pink clad girl, who he recognized as the little spitfire who tied him up and interrogated him during the entertaining fiasco that was Donald’s wish for a ‘perfect family’. 

Despite the now growing feeling that this would all end soon, Gene had enjoyed himself. It was nice to just interact with others again and not be at someone’s beck and call. While he did like using his powers to have fun with mortals, there were more than enough terrible things he’d been forced to do, and the ability to simply be among people he knew couldn’t demand something of him was a rare reprieve.  One he probably wouldn’t be getting again.

Now, with the excitement beginning to wind down, Gene decided to take in the busy atmosphere, not expecting anyone to notice him up there with how preoccupied they all were. 

“Pardon me...”

The duck quickly spun around in midair, looking down and catching the sharp gaze of a rather serious looking canine all dressed in dark, save for a few splashes of red. He was staring up at him so intensely that Gene jokingly thought if he looked at him any harder lasers would shoot from his eyes.

“Hmmm... an interesting side character, guess a little more mingling wouldn’t hurt.”

Without missing a beat, Gene floated down from his place above the crowd to hover at eye level with the stranger.

 “Well He-llo there! Always nice to meet a new face!” he said eagerly, flashing a grin that he hoped came off as charismatic and giving a wink.

The dog’s eyes widened for a few seconds before returning to his serious expression. Trying to act nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm, the duck waved his arm to conjure a neon sign above him, his name spelled in blinking lights. Smile unwavering, he held out his hand.

“Name’s Gene! Nice to meet ya!”

The dog stared at the outstretched appendage, his hesitance causing Gene’s excitement to falter. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he was reaching out and gripping his hand in a firm but friendly shake.

“Faris D’jinn. It is an honor.” He said, head bowing slightly.

“Woah, an honor? Kinda formal, but I think I like it.”

Gene suddenly perked in realization. ‘Faris’, if he recalled, meant knight or horseman, and he couldn’t help but think how it suited the noble looking gentleman in front of him. And with a surname like ‘D’jinn’, well, why would the genie not find that interesting? He became so uncharacteristically lost in these thoughts that he almost failed to realize that his companion was staring at him a bit oddly, and he was suddenly aware that he was still holding his hand. 

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Gene hovered back slightly while relinquishing his grip, trying to hide how awkward he felt by widening his smile.

He was sure he looked half crazy.

“Well Mr. D’jinn, I must say it’s a pleasure to meet such polite and proper ol’ gent and- Ooooh!”

Gene was at his side so fast that the warrior nearly jumped away in surprise as the genie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity at the sight of his sword’s hilt peeking from his robes.

“Oh-hoho, that’s quite a blade you got there. It almost looks like... I wanna say late Mamluk dynasty, Burji maybe...? But that can’t be right, unless it’s a really good replica.”

If D’jinn was shocked by his educated guess he hid it well, although Gene did notice the dog’s brow raise slightly from were it was hidden under the hem of his headdress.

“You are quite wise, although I would not expect anything less from a great and mystical genie.”

Gene’s eyes shot up from the finely crafted blade to the canine’s face. The gaze that met him was serious but not in a way that came off as cruel or accusatory. Still, that look, accompanied by such a bold statement, made the duck want to buckle his knees and shrink into himself.

Just who was this guy?

“Are you not a genie?”

The duck suppressed the urge to gulp at the quiet forcefulness behind the simple inquiry. It was after all a sensible question, he did more or less fit the description of his kind, though he liked to think he set himself apart with his showman’s flare because, servant or not, he still liked seeing others smile.

Now, his inner showman was currently at a loss for words, opting for wanting to hide his face in his turban.

“Get it together Genester! You heard him, how ‘great and mystical’ do you think you look right now?”

Trying to shake of the awkwardness, he disappeared from D’jinns side to reappear in front of him in a puff of smoke. 

“Yessir! One-hundred percent bonafide and certified wish-granting genie, that’s me!” Gene exclaimed, conjuring up a laminated license that read ‘Certified Genie: Gene C. Baba’ complete with a photo of himself smiling awkwardly while donning a thick pair eyeglasses and suspenders.

D’jinn stayed unwaveringly quiet as the duck nearly shoved the card to his face.

“He he... yeah, funny thing though, the whole ‘wish-granting’ part of my deal is a bit... compromised at the moment. Y’see, only the holder of a genie’s lamp can control said genie, i.e., me” Gene pulled an arrow out of thin air and pointed towards himself “and big bad and Blotty left my lamp behind along with the rest of the lost treasure of Collie Baba when he sucked me into that fancy oven-mitt of his, you’d think with all his magical know-how he wouldn’t forget that important tidbit, right?” 

Why did he sound so nervous?

“And I tell you what, I’m glad I’m not strapped to that thing anymore...!”

D’jinns eyes widened as a grim realization dawned on him.

“So, it is true. The device the Phantom Blot carried with him, the one he used to steal the magic from those he hunted...”

“I swear it was totally against my will!”

The canine shook his head. “No, I heard of its use from other captives, some who were brought here months before F.O.W.L. found me. Gene, how long have they kept you prisoner?”

The genie awkwardly rubbed one of his arms, looking away from D’jinn as the mood shifted drastically. While he may had been a little uncomfortable before, now he wanted to focus on anything but the dog in front of him. He might end up saying something that would break his facade, and he couldn’t....

“Technically, was already a prisoner. Y’know, the whole ‘genie in the lamp’ deal.”

“What are you doing?! Stop talking before...!”

“It’s like, I dunno... I’m almost glad this happened...”

“Idiot...”

“I mean not that I helped capture all those people or anything, because I still feel real bad about all that! It’s just that, whatever he did, even after I escaped, I’m still here. This right now is the closest I’ve ever felt to being...”

A sudden feeling of a hand gently enveloping his own prevented him from saying anything else. Momentarily shocked out of his train of thought, Gene dared to look back at the stranger he had begun to admit his sadness to.

He expected to see pity, but the eyes that looked back at him held something different. They were narrowed and serious, but not like before. There was fire in that glance, and as D’jinn’s grip on his hand tightened it only seemed to burn brighter.

“You shall be free, that I promise you.”

If Gene’s eyes got any wider he thought they’d escape out of his head. Heck, there was a better chance of that happening than what the man in front of him had just said. 

“Heh, Being trapped in that pickle jar must’ve done a number on my ears. Y’know everything’s muffled in there, might not have heard ya right....” 

He tried to laugh, to call the his bluff.

The dog said nothing, nor did he change his  determined expression. He simply gave Gene’s hand a quick but firm squeeze, as if to reaffirm what he said. 

“But why....”

Just then, he felt it.

It wasn’t how he expected it to happen, but he knew.

A panicked glance down confirmed his suspicions as he saw a bright light spread from the tip of his shoes, gradually making its way up his body, a familiar emptiness growing with it. 

His time was up.

“No, please, it can’t be over yet...”

He felt D’jinn grab his other hand.

Even as he felt himself fading away, as he began to feel despair weigh him down further and any lingering hope drained from him, Gene again dared to look up at his companion.

He was greeted by the kindest smile he had ever seen.

 “Because, it is the right thing to do.”

 A single flash, and the genie was gone.

___________

D’jinn was left standing at the now-empty space in front of him, hands outstretched to cusp something that was no longer there as his smile disappeared, allowing the heaviness of the moment sink in. 

That silly little duck hadn’t been at all what he expected. The stories his grandmother told him painted a picture of genies as powerful and filled with fiery intimidation, as well as being wiser than any mortal born of flesh and bone...

“Technically, I was already a prisoner.”

  D’jinn’s frown deepened. Those words, they certainly weren’t spoken by some mighty cosmic being, but by a man, who could feel sadness and fear just like anyone else.   

D’jinn thought back to the story of his ancestor and a kind servant trapped for eternity, until she saw it in her heart to exchange that eternity for a lifetime of love and happiness. This was certainly a different situation, but wasn’t it still the right thing to do?

And those eyes.

The look of desperation in those beautiful gold-colored eyes as he vanished were now burned into his memory. It was a cry for help, and the warrior ached to answer it.

He had made a promise, and while it may had been spoken in a passionate spur of the moment, he would honor it.

Resolute, he scanned the enormous crowd, his well-trained senses focused and on high alert for any sounds or scents that would lead him to his quarry. The minutes ticked by as his stoic expression masked his growing apprehension. 

“There!”

It was faint among the throngs of people surrounding him, nearly undetectable, but his keen canine nose picked up on a familiar smell of dusty tomes mixed with the metallic scent of coins. With extreme calculation, he allowed his tracking instincts take the helm as he stealthily maneuvered through the crowd, ears perked beneath his keffiyeh for any signs of...

“Della, Launchpad! How’re the plane repairs comin’ along?”

Quiet relief washed over D’jinn when he noticed a familiarly distinct top hat poking out from the crowd near the library’s entrance. Making his way towards the fellow adventurer, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired the old man looked, uncharacteristically showing his age. 

“Scrooge, my friend.”

Caught off guard, the duck tensed so hard that he nearly lost his balance before turning to the canine in surprise.

“D’jinn? Bless me bagpipes that villainous vulture nabbed you too?” 

Scrooge shook his head as he adjusted his spectacles, expression shifting back to exhaustion, his browsed creased upwards in guilt.

“I’m sorry lad, you lot were all dragged into this mess because of me. I cannae imagine what you must ‘ave endured at the hands of those fiends.”

D’jinn’s eyes narrowed as he placed his hand on his chest, expression serious but sincere. 

“Noble Scrooge, the only true guilty ones are the villains you speak of, those who would seek to harm the innocent indiscriminately and use them for their own nefarious means.”

Scrooge’s sighed heavily at the canine’s statement.

 “Aye, like me poor darlin’ Webby.”

Like Gene.

“I have dedicated my life to righting such wrongs. I hold nothing against you my friend, I could not let such transgressions against an ally stand. That is why we are here. You have many on whom you can rely, and friends are part of the journey as well, are they not?”

Scrooge stared at D’jinn for a moment, absorbing the man’s insightful words before breaking into a gentle smile, eyes shining with gratitude.

“Thank you, I... needed to here that. I know I can rely on my family when I need ‘em, but it takes times like these to remind this stubborn old fool that ‘family’ can be many things.”

Scrooge silently laughed at himself.

“Sorry, been feeling a little more sentimental than usual.”

Nodding in understanding and knowing that he’d soon depart, Djinn decided to waste no time and reached into his robes as he lowered himself onto one knee, startling Scrooge with this sudden change in demeanor as he withdrew a blank scroll along with a quill.

“Not all has been made right, and my journey must continue.”

The look of determination that met the old duck’s gaze startled him with its ferocity.

“Scrooge McDuck, I simply need a moment to ask you some questions, and the rest will fall to me.”

Scrooge stared back for a moment, perplexed. His family would be leaving soon, and he needed to help them prepare. However, the weight of the severity in the canine’s request, along with the deep sincerity with which he’d said it, told him all he needed to know. Nodding in affirmation, Scrooge watched as D’jinn unraveled the scroll in front of them, quill raised and ready.

“I wish to know about the lost treasure of Collie Baba, and the lamp that is hidden there.”

I’m so sorry, that took MUCH longer to complete than I wanted it to, l have more projects planned and hopefully once courses are over they won’t be as bad. Also sorry for the poor writing quality, I’m kind of rusty. Still I hope that whoever took the time to read this found something entertaining about it. Thank you for your interest, until next time!

[wing-ed-thing]

Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter III)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI 

Guy woke you from dreamless sleep in the middle of the night. He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. It was time for your watch. You bolted up at the touch, propping yourself on your left palm. The kunai from under your pseudo-pillow felt heavy in your grip against his neck. Guy had kept the fire kindled, but just barely. The dim glow outlined his face as he lingered kneeling over you. You relaxed, recognizing him after a few blinks.  He looked exhausted, but gazed upon you with concerned eyes. He recoiled his touch softly. You put your kunai down. Wordlessly, Guy settled into his makeshift cot.

You stretched, sitting up against a large fallen branch. The heat from the little flares warmed your cheeks. You threw a small piece of wood on the embers, watching as the tiny flames licked the offering. The light burned just bright enough to see your surroundings, but not enough to give you away to any that may be lurking in the woods. You breathed deeply and closed your eyes to focus. No other chakra signatures anywhere around.

Guy tapped out quickly, curled up in his blanket to your left. He gave out a light snore. He must’ve been a lot more tired than he let on to you before. Raven black strands slipped from his forehead, falling across his eyes. You glanced around. You were alone. Gingerly, you reached over and tucked the stray strands back, but quickly recoiled as a small shock pinched your nerves. You shifted back against the log.

Much like the night before, you found yourself thumbing through the case file once more. Bits of light fluttered on the page. You ran a finger over your new name, new identity. The name of the club where you were to become the equivalent of a cabaret girl, a hostess. The file felt thin and light in your hand. The Leaf did not know if the plot by the Sound existed, let alone it’s details. You rolled the edge of the paper in your fingers. The layout of the city printed on the page wrinkled at the border. You have long since memorized the image. You tossed the pages into the fire. You wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

At the rate you and Guy were going at, you’d arrive later today. You took a few items out of your pack and began work on your face. As tedious and expensive as it was to do missions like this, it was the only way for an undercover mission. Any ninja could use a transformation jutsu, but any team with a half-skilled sensory ninja could sense a small, yet continuous, flow of it from a mile away if they really tried. You ran a brush down your cheekbone, the tinted light posed a challenge, but not one you hadn’t overcome before. You tried not to grin as you thought about what new products you could buy with your reimbursement ryō. While you got the process down to a science, it still took focus.

In time, you witnessed dawn impose itself on the world. Little by little, you observed the orchestra of the forest. As the sun began to rise, you could hear birds, see them fly overhead as they began their day. Small rodents rustled in the treetops. For a while, the forest took on a teal blue tint, but the hue changed as the sun rose. Beams of sunlight trickled through the trees. The saturation became green and gold. The fresh, crisp air pleasantly shocked your lungs. The daylight shown on your sleeping partner’s relaxed features.

You shifted and shadow once again enveloped his figure.

Guy began to stir by the time you were finished. As you were packing your equipment back up, his eyes suddenly shot open. He sat up in his make-shift cot.

“Alright,” he stated, stretching his arms over his head, “Breaktime’s over.”

He turned to you. He arched his eyebrows and assumed a semi-defensive posture. Guy’s brows sewed together in confusion. You rolled your eyes, sighing.

“It’s me, genius.”

“Riiiight, right.” Guy took in your new features. He had heard about your abilities, but hadn’t had a chance to see them up close. He tilted his head. If Guy hadn’t known you, you could have easily been a different person. He mentally bisected you. Closing one eye and squinting the other, he raised his hand to block his vision to your face. Same clothes. Same body language. Same figure. Guy moved his hand. Different hair. Different facial structure. How did you pull that off?

“Are you going to stop staring?” You questioned, not looking at Guy, “It’s unprofessional and if you’re up then we should really head out.”

Guy nodded, gathering both of your things together. You dispersed all evidence of the camp and dismantled the protective jutsus. Not long after, the two of you once again vanished into the trees, not a trace left behind.

There were about 15 more hours to go. This, of course, did not include the extra time it would take as you crossed the border to the Country of Rice. Naturally, “civilians” like yourselves don’t have chakra control so for a portion of the trip you will be walking in case you were unlucky enough to get stopped by Sound patrol. Every few minutes, you scanned ahead for any chakra signatures. You were getting lucky today. Unlike the day before, you found little trouble as you traveled with Guy.

You shot through the trees. In the distance you could see the Valley of the End. The two statues stood tall at the end of your sights. You were almost to the border. The closer you got, the clearer you could hear the falls. They tumbled down into the canyon carved by battle. You had heard about it, but you never got a chance to actually see it. Breathtaking. You stopped to take it in.

“Why’d you stop?” Guy asked, coming to perch on the same branch as you. You took a moment to catch your breath, hands on your knees.

“I’ve just never seen it before,” You confessed, motioning to the landmark. You took a deep breath, standing back up straight. “This is the line into the Land of Sound. We should probably start walking soon.”

“We can take a break, you know. We’ve been making good time.” Guy offered. He had rarely seen you interested in anything. If you wanted to take in the valley, he would happily indulge you. You stretched your limbs.

“What, are you slacking off now?” you asked haughtily. “You don’t want to be the first one to the Sound?” You regretted saying that as soon as it left your lips. It definitely wasn’t a challenge. You were just being sassy, giving him a hard time, but Guy perked up.

“Are you talking about… a race?” Guy’s eyes were wide in excitement, a dumb grin enveloping his features. You huffed, hands on your hips.

“No, I don’t want to race-” But he left before you could finish. Not one to be outdone by Might Guy of all people, you started after him. You called out from behind, “You’re ridiculous!” Guy let out a hardy laugh in front of you.

“You only say that because you’re losing!” You sped up into the tops of the trees, running across the tops. Guy took a brief look behind him, not seeing you. But before he had time to fully look back in front, you slammed down a few feet in front of him. In an instant, you pushed on a smaller branch with your foot, bending it down before launching yourself forward. It swung forward, uppercutting Guy. He grunted as you advanced smugly. “Very interesting! Very creative!”

You moved forward, flipping and maneuvering among the tree limbs. But you couldn’t keep your lead for long. Neck and neck, Guy took a straightforward route. You closed in rapidly on the border to the two lands. You both swiftly passed by Hashirama’s head. In your peripheral area, you caught a glimpse of his opponent, Madara. You passed by their silent stare off, landing in the Land of Sound.

Guy had his arms crossed, his chest puffed. You blew a strand of hair from your face.

“Okay, you ‘won’. Doesn’t mean you have to gloat.”

Guy’s smile grew wider. You turned away with a scoff, beginning to walk down the outskirts of the forest. You found a beaten path. This was likely the route that civilians typically took. Guy followed as you sauntered away, trying not to betray how sore you were about your defeat.

Despite expending energy on your “challenge”, Guy hovered energetically around you. Out of your peripheral you saw his animaled hand motions. Your mind filled in the wide eyes and raised brows which he without a doubt wore. You strolled on and Guy chatted on. You didn’t know someone could talk for so long. You didn’t particularly care to register what he said. Perhaps, being tuned out was your mistake. You focused on the path ahead, searching for chakra signatures every once in a while. What you were not focused on, was the hand that came to clamp down on your shoulder. The fingers that brushed against your skin. It should have been a friendly touch, a playful gesture to most, but as soon as Guy’s skin met yours, the same electric current that you felt that morning coursed through your body.

It happened in an instant. The sensation faintly rose within you, looming, running behind the scenes of your sensory system. You felt it at your core, something that could only be described as purely Might Guy. His will stood out sharply and his energy zapped throughout every fiber of your being. The feeling deposited itself in your bones, picking up something to exchange. You felt it: the mix of emotions, the anger, the annoyance, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on began to leave your system. You had never felt this feeling before. Your heart began to pound in your chest.

You shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me!” You shrieked. You stumbled a few steps back, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your eyes widened from your rapid heart rate. Guy had stopped in his tracks, slightly shaken, holding his hands defensively and low. You looked into his eyes, panicked. Softly, you warned him, “Don’t touch my skin.”

Guy’s eyes were on you, betraying worry. You felt that your heart had skipped a beat. You found yourself holding your breath. Your chest moved as you slowly exhaled. Guy waited for your word, standing stone-faced and silent. You flushed slightly, ashamed at your outburst. The corners of Guy’s lips turned upward as he gave you a reassuring nod. You relaxed, but Guy did not.

He glanced over your shoulder, unmoving. You turned only to be met with a pair of Sound Ninja. How could you not sense them before?

“Is there a problem here?” the first patrol asked.

“Not at all, sir!” Guy answered with his usual Might Guy charisma.

“No, problem!” You laughed, “There was just a spider! Came straight down on my head! Sorry to inconvenience you two, so embarrassing!” The two patrols weren’t interested.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the second dismissed. He glanced at you over, eyes lingering in a downward position as he smirked. He shifted closer to you. Guy tensed. The first patrol came around you, to sandwich you and Guy between the two of them. “What’s your business in the Country of Rice?”

“Work,” Guy responded.

“Do you have work visas?” the patrol closest to you questioned, leaning down, his face now in close proximity to yours.

“Yes.” You took the opportunity to take a step back as you reached into the side of your pack. You produced two small booklets. The second patrol’s hands came over yours and took them from your hands. You felt a small shock, but nothing near as electrifying as when Guy touched you. Instead, it was the slimy feeling of a weak will. A feeling you were familiar with and confident you could conquer. You looked into the eyes of the Sound ninja. His hand lingered a bit longer at your stare. A small burst of chakra. “We are simple travelers and nothing more.”

The ninja’s eyes glossed over. You removed your hand from his. Handing one to his partner. You focused on the dazed ninja as he idly flipped through the little booklet.

“Aoki Genki-” You second glanced at Guy and then to you- “and Takeuchi Yume… tell me, have you seen any Leaf ninja wandering these parts?”

“We haven’t seen much of anyone wandering these parts.” Guy’s statement wasn’t false. “Why? Is something the matter?”

“Another patrol squad got roughed up at the border not too long ago. By what we can only assume from the fallout, it was a group of Leaf ninja.” The first patrol answered, following his partner’s lead.

You inwardly rolled your eyes. You got confirmation that the squad that ambushed you were ninja working on behalf of the sounds, but they were most definitely not at the border.

“How terrifying!” you feigned.

“Let someone know if you see anything,” The two ninja handed your visas back to you. You tucked them back away. “We wish you safety in your travels.”

“We will,” you assured them, smiling graciously, “Thank you for your service.”

The Sound patrol disappeared. The second ninja was still glossy-eyed.

You and Guy spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Finals have been crazy. I’m trying to do these once a week but the next might be delayed a bit. I’m trying to not edit these too much. I want to do this for fun but I can’t help but stress myself out when it comes to series and if people like them. I’ll keep doing these for fun! 

[writingsbychlo]

more ways than one (05)

word count; 5015

summary; the pressure of looking after everyone else all becomes too much, and you snap, but there’s someone there to look after you this time.

notes; make sure to check the warnings for any triggers!

warnings; vivid descriptions fo panic attacks, major anxiety references, mentions of death and threats.

It had been a while since you’d had a chance to go back and see the man you were hiding away. You knew he’d be okay, you’d stocked up the house with snacks, over the past few weeks you’d taught him how to cook basic meals for himself. He seemed to be going through the books lining Derek’s shelves faster than you would have imagined, but then again, he had to fill his days with something.

He was catching on fast. Fast enough that you knew he’d be perfectly fine alone for a week, but you didn’t feel good about the amount of time that had passed. You had spent what had remained of the summer break visiting every day, or every other day in the minimum, and as soon as school had come back, things had caught up. Your studies were fine, but yet another supernatural threat was pressing down on you all, and now there was someone hunting down supernatural creatures around Beacon Hills, almost all of your friends at risk.

A week. A week had passed since you’d last been to visit, and you feared for the mood the man would be in when you returned. He’d opened up to you, enough to have small conversations here and there, but you hadn't progressed much further after his session with answering your questions all those weeks ago. Derek had called, extending his trip with Cora until Christmas, and so a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders in that you didn’t have to find him somewhere new to stay. 

One less thing for you to worry about. 

You had spent the day with the pack, running over scenarios and situations as you tried to find results, only to come up with dead ends. You were at the end of your tether, there was nothing you could do. As a human, you were for once the safest in the group, you and Stiles not being hunted, and yet everyone else was. You hated it, you hated how useless you felt, and you couldn't even bring yourself to hide the frown on your face when you unlocked the sliding door to the loft and entered the large space. 

The sound of a thick book snapping shut and stiff material creaking under the movement of a heavy weight greeted you, and you found V popped up on his elbows, a book sitting on his chest as he peered at you from the couch, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed on you.

“Thought you might not come back this time.” 

His voice was low, and you let out a deep sigh, shaking your head and running a hand through your hair as you dropped your bag from your shoulder down to your hand, carrying it over to the couch with you. He moved his legs as you made to sit down, swinging them over the edge of the sofa and making room for you to sit down beside him. You flopped back into the cushions, turning your head to look at him and he raised his eyebrows curiously, placing his book down and sitting up fully, enough to scoot closer to you across the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“I’m not going to leave you, I’m just overwhelmed at the moment.” He hummed in response, before picking his book back up and opening it to it’s place. You weren’t sure what you had expected, he wasn’t well-adjusted yet, and you weren’t exactly seeking comfort, but you’d expected a little more from him than just being ignored as he went back to his book. 

Digging through your bag, you pulled out your notebook and placed it on the table, open to the page with all the notes you and Stiles had scribbled down while working through problems earlier. However, no matter how many times you went through your bag, you couldn't find the pen you had been using, and suddenly, you could see it in your mind’s eye, tucked behind your best friend’s ear where he’d placed it before picking up the phone when Scott had called.

You let out a loud sigh, cursing under your breath and tossing your bag aside, dropping your head into your hands for a second and growling under your breath, the noise muffled by your palms, but still perfectly audible to the man you sat with.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You hadn't meant to snap, and he looked taken aback by your outburst, his brows furrowing as his lips twisted down in a frown, your jaw tensing as you dragged your eyes away from his in guilt, searching across the room and finding a pent sitting on the stacks of books, next to a journal you’d left him a while ago to practice learning to write with, and he followed your gaze to it. 

Picking up the instrument, he slammed it down on the table before you, nimble fingers pulling back as he jerked away from you like you were a flame that had burned him. “All you had to do was ask.”

The comment made you want to shout again, anger and frustration from the day bubbling up inside of you, and your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your rage, instead trying to work through the issue before you, trying to work out the passwords for the list of prices and names for those being hunted. 

The evening continued much the same, as the hours passed on you found everything becoming too much. You were stressed, and overly tired, days of barely sleeping taking it’s toll on you as your tether wore thin. Everything from the scraping sound of the paper each time he turned the page, to the sound of Derek’s obnoxiously large clock ticking away was making you even more irritated. 

His leg had been bouncing, twitching like Stiles’ would and you’d told him to stop, you’d told him to move up because he felt too close to you, and now he was sitting on the floor. He’d accommodated every silly whim you’d presented him with, and yet you still couldn’t help the growl that came under your breath as his fingernails absentmindedly scratched at the denim of his jeans as he read his book. It all became too much, and you slammed a fist down onto the table, everything a top it rattling as he jumped and looked up at you.

You were fixing him with a hard glare, and for this first time tonight, and in a long while, he fixed you with the same chilling look that had been his default expression when you’d first saved him. “What now?”

His teeth had been gritted as he spoke, and you scoffed at his attitude, shaking your head and crossing your arms as you looked at him. “You’re making this scratchy noise. It’s annoying me.”

“Everything I do seems to be annoying you, tonight.” You grumbled at his comment, pinching the bridge of your nose and you heard him hum to himself, flicking the page of his book extra loudly in protest. “If it’s so awful being here, why don’t you just leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave. I didn’t ask you to be here. I’ve been perfectly fine alone, in all the days you didn’t have time for me.” He muttered the final words, and your eyebrows shut up, getting to your feet and placing your hands on your hips, trying to intimidate him as you towered over him but he got to his full height, and suddenly you were looking up at him as he glared down at you, now feeling much smaller than you did a second ago. 

“This is my friend’s place, I’m looking after you! You should fucking leave!”

“And go where? I didn’t ask you to save me! If I’m so much of a burden to you then you should have left me for dead!” The comment made you swallow down thickly, but electricity was zapping through the air with each comment thrown in raised voices and angry shouts between you both, and the fire burning in his eyes only fuelled you on, no matter how much you knew you may regret your words.

“Maybe I should have! It would be a lot fucking easier for me!” His eyes darkened as he looked at you, jaw sealed shut before he schooled his face into a more neutral expression, and his ability to wash your emotions away only added wood to the burning rage within you.

“Do you really want me to leave?”

“I want you to get out of my fucking face is what I want!” You dropped back down onto the couch, hearing him huff out a ‘fine’ as he moved around the room, and you watched him go, shaking your head and rolling your eyes as he dramatically pulled open the loft door, leaving it ajar as his footsteps sounded on the stairs, disappearing into silence as he left.

A cold breeze swept in, cooling your fiery temper, and you shivered to yourself, the room suddenly feeling much larger with just you in it, and you felt increasingly more lonely as you looked around. Stretching out your muscles, you made your way over to the door, sliding it shut just enough to keep the coldness of the night out, and you felt guilty, knowing that the man had stormed out barefoot in just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

Your attention turned back to that of trying to solve your benefactor issues. Your mind was spinning, your stomach grumbling, and after another half an hour of wavering focus and drifting thoughts, you resigned yourself to making food. It wasn’t until halfway into your prep of the meal that you realised you had accidentally been making enough for two, instinct having taken over, and you sighed as you dished up your own, before leaving the other half int he fridge as leftovers. 

Eating along gave you time to think about what you’d done, and you stabbed at the meal, eating slowly on rapidly cooling food as your appetite dwindled, replaced by nauseating guilt that twisted sickeningly in your guts. You washed the dishes and placed them on the rack, hiding in the kitchen, hoping that if you hung out in there long enough, that when you came back through, V would be back, scowling at you from his seat on the couch. 

In a bid to occupy your mind, you made your way back to the couch, curling in on yourself as the thin blanket that kept you warm was no longer providing warmth, instead, leaving you feeling as though you were going to catch as chill, and over an hour had passed by since your friend had left, someone you had pushed away instead of letting in, and tears welled in your eyes as you thought about your other friends.

The words on the page seemed to blur the longer you looked at them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, a heavy and hot tear dripping down onto your cheek, and you were quick to wipe it away. You slammed the notebook shut, pulling your legs to your chest and burying your face in your knees, willing back the tears threatening to spill. You were clinging to yourself, rocking back and forth as the silence of the room took over, and you felt like you were sinking, drowning, entirely alone. 

You made the split decision to get up, your body barely reacting in time with your movements as you stumbled to your feet, sniffling and blinking back tears as you dragged the door out of your way, not even bothering to close it again before you were searching the building, top to bottom in a weak hope that you may find the man hiding out somewhere as he waited for you to calm down, but you had no such luck. You searched through the outside, wandering so far away from the main building that you had to use the torch on your phone to just find your way, shivering violently by the time you returned alone. 

Your skin was cold to the touch, coated in goosebumps from raised hairs as your teeth chattered, and your arms were wrapped tightly around your own body. The only warmth you had was from the tears slowly tracking down your cheek as you cursed to yourself, rubbing at your nose and your eyes, skin sore from salty tears you’d released. 

Your breath felt like you were gasping by the time you were stumbling back into the loft, your heart racing, beating almost painfully hard against your ribs, though everything felt like it was in slow motion. You felt weak, your body giving way beneath you as you sobbed, clawing at your chest to pull breaths in, and you couldn’t find a blanket for the life of you. You knew Derek had them here, and your hands were shaking, so much so that as you searched through the boxes and drawers you were practically ripping them from their shelves, leaving them turned over as things clattered to the ground. 

You couldn’t save your friends.

You couldn't save one person you found in the street.

You couldn’t even save yourself.

Your knees hit the floor painfully loud, the thud sounding through the room as your hands laced into your hair, tugging at the roots form your stress as you collapsed to the floor, everything around you seeming to blur away as your oncoming panic attack gave you struggles to even breathe, to wound up to even be able to see your surroundings anymore.

It was too much, you were just one person, you were a teenager. Your main concern should be what to wear to prom, whether you would have a date and which colleges to apply to. Every morning you woke up you lived with the constant fear that today may be your last day, that you may have to hold one of your friends as they died and that you may not be able to do anything to help them, that you may lose someone else.

Your phone lay across the room from you, and a brief thought of clarity to call Stiles, or Lydia or Scott, to call any of your friends flashed through your mind but it was dead, too far to reach in your weakened state and drained of battery from being used as a torch even if you did manage to reach it. It felt like everything was against you as your vision faded from the lack of oxygen you were getting into your lungs, your mind spinning on loops, making you feel both sick and dizzy. 

Your body curled in on itself on the cold concrete of the loft floors, a chill sweeping across your skin, and you could barely focus when you turned, finding yourself on your back and staring at the high ceilings. A hand found the back of your head, honey brown eyes peering into your own as you were scooped further up. He was kneeling beside you, legs flooded under himself as he lifted you up a little, and your hands found fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer but simultaneously pushing at his chest.

“Y-Y-You left! You a-actually left!” Your words were stuttered out, and he ran a hand over your cheek, eyes wide as he gaped, no idea how to help you, and so in spite of all your struggling, he simply pressed your cheek into his chest, holding you tight to him as you tugged on his shirt. “There are n-no b-blankets, and y-you left!”

“You told me to leave!”

“I didn’t r-really want y-you to!” Your words didn’t make sense, and instead, you just pushed your face into his neck, sobbing into his skin as he held you close. He was stiff and tense, but his arms were wrapped around you and you were clutched to him tightly. 

Eventually, he moved, scooping you up under your legs and holding you tightly to him, his legs a little shaky as he carried you over to the couch, settling back into the cushions with your body still wrapped tightly around him. 

When your sobs calmed a little, his fingers brushed over your arm, soothing you with the patterns until your fingers undid from his shirt, sitting flat on his chest, one pressing over his heart, feeling it pump steadily under your palm, and your head was cushioned against his shoulder when you pulled back enough to get fresh air. 

“You told me to leave.”

This time when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, and you swallowed thickly, sucking your lower lips between your teeth and nibbling on it for a moment. You opened your mouth, willing yourself to reply, but only a broken sob left you, your eyes dry as you were all cried out, but sadness once again surged your system. 

He squeezed you tightly once again, his hands stilling, fingers spreading out wide as he held you. “The blankets are stacked in a box beside the door.” You let out a weak laugh, raising your head just enough to look at him, and his lips flicked up at the corners. “You were talking to yourself.”

He shifted you to lie you down on the couch, a yawn on your lips as he padded across the room, fishing out one of the familiar knitted blankets you recognised so well, before he was making his way back over to you, tucking it around your body carefully. He took a seat beside you, and you shuffled, resting your head on his thigh as you let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing as you finally relaxed. “Y’know, I’m supposed to be the one saving you.”

His response was whispered to you, sleep already taking you over as you warmed back up and relaxed happily, one of his hand’s lifting up just enough to settle delicately on his own legs beside your head, his fingers sweeping over your cheekbone. “Maybe we save each other.”

Sleep soon took you over, and you drifted off with the feeling of fingers brushing through your hair, tucking stray strands behind your ears until you were drifting off into unconsciousness, a well-needed sleep. Your body refused to wake until the sun was beginning to peek up over the horizon once again, almost ten hours having passed you by when pale colours were painting the skies as a new day was ushered in.

You jolted upright when the fog over your mind cleared, finding yourself jerkily rising up. There were indents in your cheek from where you’d slept, the man slumped uncomfortably, half keeled over as he dozed, and he slumped further down into the cushions once you left, the weight distribution changing as he huffed in his unconsciousness and rolled over. 

You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders, smiling to yourself as you looked down at the man, draping the soft woollen material over his body. Crouching beside him, your fingers brushed the hair from his eyes, and he pushed his face into your touch sleepily, your hand pulling back rapidly when his eyes opened, fluttering just enough to peer at you tiredly.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be back this afternoon.” His lips flicked up at the sides, and he opened one eye fully to look at you, the other closed, and if you weren’t mistaken, there was an almost cheeky glint in his opened eye. 

“Promise?”

You huffed out a laugh, nodding your head. “Yeah, I promise.” You told him about the food you’d left for him, and he nodded, soon drifting back off to sleep, your keys in your hand as you tried to shake yourself off for the drive home. 

When you got home, you had taken a shower and changed your clothes, plugging your phone onto charge before getting yourself some breakfast, before calling Stiles to check in with him. He updated you on their progress, because apparently, they had all been working all night too, and had made a little new progress with which or update you on. There were three lists in total, a second banshee from Eichen house had been recruited to assist, and you jotted down everything else, a hand running through the tangles in your hair. 

You packed a bag, collecting up some books and a spare charger to leave at Derek’s another hoodie that Stiles had left at your house and forgotten about that you could wear for now, and give to V later on.

Something had shifted between the two of you, something radical had moved between now and last night, having fallen asleep with the man, letting him ease you back from a panic attack, the air surrounding you both felt different. You were almost anxious on the drive back to see him, your fingers tapping against the wheel as you sat outside for a good while, before eventually shaking yourself down for your unnecessary fears, grabbing your bag from the back of your car and taking them up to the oft with you, choosing to prolong your time by taking all of the stairs, giving yourself a chance to talk.

When you opened the door, you found him looking over his own shoulder, back to the mirror hung up on the wall as he tried to reach his cuts, his shirt in a puddle on the floor, and his head whipped around to look up at you as you closed the door. He fixed you with a bright smile - almost dazzling - upon seeing your return to him. 

Your anxiety slipped away, and you raised a brow, watching as he bowed at the waist to scoop up his shirt and tug it back over his head. You waved the bag at him, showing him the contents, and his eyes lit up as he spied the collection of books hidden within. 

“You brought me books?”

“I brought you the Harry Potter books. They’re very good, and I love them, so don’t fold the pages. I also brought you a bookmark.” You dropped the bag down onto the couch, and he lingered a few feet away from you, and an oddly comfortable silence falling between the two of you. You weren’t sure whether to speak about what happened the night before, or whether to leave it, whether you should thank him again or not. 

He broke your train of thought, the wringing of your hands that you hadn't realised you were doing came to a pause as he spoke. “I ate the food that you left.”

“You worked out how to use the microwave?”

“That what?” The two of you were staring at each other with furrowed brows, and your lips parted, silence settling between the two of you, your heart clenching for him when you realised he must have just eaten it cold, and you made a mental note to teach him how to reheat food, later. Your phone rang, the shrill sound of Stiles’ particular ringtone snapped you from your thoughts, and you fumbled into the pocket of your hoodie to find it. 

“Hey Sti, what’s up?” 

The man across from you stood quietly, moving forward to pick up one of the books, and Stiles took off in an explanation about a breakthrough they had found, the smile dropping from your face as you listened to him. Tapping the front cover of ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’, he took that one, giving you time to talk as he settled on the couch, and you shot him a  reassuring smile, before wandering away into the kitchen for some privacy as the joyful expression dropped from your face. 

What had felt like a vacation for a very short while, a brief period of happiness, was once again coming crashing down around you. They had passwords to unlock the lists, and your foot tapped against the floor as he updated you on new information that had come to light. At some point, your feet had just felt too heavy underneath you anymore, and so you were leaning against the counter, your body shaking as you listened to Stiles read off the names of your friends, and who was worth how much. 

He promised you it would be okay, that you were all doing the best you possibly could to do protect them. You suppressed the sob that wanted to rise in your throat, telling your best friend just how utterly powerless you felt, and he did his best to reassure you. Once he had hung up, you placed the phone down beside you, covering your face with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembled. 

You weren’t sure how long you were stood there, nor how loud your phone conversations had been, but you didn’t lift your head again until your name was called from the doorway of the kitchen. You were shocked, he’d never used your name before, you knew he may have caught it from the conversations you’d had, and because you’d never formally introduced yourself, you were surprised he’d learnt it at all. 

He had a hand on the top of the kitchen doorframe, practically filling the space as he looked at you carefully, and you wiped under your eyes, smiling carefully and pushing your phone into your back pocket after lifting it from the counter. You avoided his eyes, clearing your throat of the lump that had formed, before wiping your clammy hands on your oversized hoodie. 

“How far into the book did you get? End of the first chapter yet?”

Your eyes barely flicked up to his as he ignored your words, taking a step towards you before you were looking up again. Your eyes were lined with tears again, and his shoulders slumped as his brows raised, expression morphing into that of a silent question and you swallowed thickly. 

“My friends are going to die and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, and he closed the gap between you both, one arm wrapping around your body as the other cupped the back of your head pulling you into him softly. Your knees all but buckled from the compassion he offered you, and you’d been held like this by Stiles many-a-time, but something with V was different, it was more, and you couldn’t tell why. 

It wasn’t a burning warmth or a consuming passion, but instead, it was simply a flicker of possibility, the idea that maybe he would come to mean something to you.

He held you up, for as long as he could, before his hands were once again scooping up under your legs to lift you up, and a weak laugh left you, fighting through the tears as deja vu washed over you. He sat down, placing you down beside him, his arm wrapped low around your waist, your legs across his lap as your cheek pressed into his shoulder. His free hand came up, carefully wiping your cheeks free of the tears flowing from your eyes. 

He didn’t ask, he didn’t make you talk, not once.

Instead, he held you, picking up his book and balancing it on your stomach as he began into the second, and third chapter of the book you had brought him. By the time he was ending the third, you were beginning to squirm in his arms, wanting to move without disturbing him, and so he placed the bookmark into the fold of the pages, closing it and placing it down beside you both. 

“You keep looking after me.”

“Someone has to look after you like you looked after me.”

“And that’s you?” You shuffled, moving to look up at him as he shifted, not looking down at you but instead moving to press his cheek to the top of your head, silently tucking you under his chin.

“It could be.”

You hummed, nodding your head quietly and stretching out your arms. Getting yourself up, his hand on your back gave you an assist, pushing you to your feet and resting on your back to keep you steady as he watched you, and you spun on your heel, new happiness and joy filling you as an idea came to mind. “How about a movie and a pizza?”

“You’re staying?”

“Do you want me to go?” You watched him, a genuine smile on his lips as he stood up beside you, your hands fidgeting in front of yourself, a single brow raised, and he took your hands in his to steady them, much like you had done to him several times over the past few weeks as he’d revealed more and more to you about his history.

“No. I don’t. I like it when you’re here with me.”

“Cool.” You grinned, taking one of your hands from his and fishing your phone from your pocket, pulling it up and opening an app to order a pizza. 

“Cool.” He repeated, and you laughed under your breath, shaking your head at the way the word sounded so odd coming from his lips. You moved ordered you both some food, just enough to fill you up, before you were moving away to find the television remotes and instructing him to fetch some drinks from the kitchen as you unfolded the blanket from last night. 

In a split-second decision, you caught his wrist in your hand as he went, turning him around as he looked at you quizzically, and you bounded up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his cheek. A barely present kiss was left on his skin, your mouth barely brushing his cheek, but the tip of your nose followed as you fell back down onto your feet and turned away from him to the television in order to choose a film, not missing the small smile on his lips that was mirrored on your own. 

[vampiresuns]

Part VII: The Keeper (Take Tonight)

3.4k words. Things get tense between Saoirse and Julianus. When the crew of another ship attacks Meredith’s crew, matters only get worse before they get better.

CW: Mentions of stabbing, blood, fight related injuries and brief mention of anxiety attacks/being unable to breathe.

The crew of The Jagged Ruby, Saoirse and Meredith belong to @apprenticealec. The song for this piece is Take Tonight, by Family Crest.

Want to read more of these series? You can find its masterpost here.

After crossing the Strait of Sirens it was obvious to everyone in the crew of The Jagged Ruby that a simmering tension between its Quartermaster and its travelling lawyer had begun to brew. It was latent at first, growing until it was impossible to ignore. There had been no fights between them, no misunderstandings either of them had mentioned. 

It was a natural consequence of events. In all relationships there was a point where however many parties involved in it had to talk about their fears, wants and needs for the future. In all relationships there was a point where one of those people involved did something which the others may support, yet stress over.

And in all relationships between an immortal and a mortal there had to be a point where the former realised the fragility of the life of the latter. Facing mortality in others was always different than facing it in those one loves.

To make matters just a little worse, neither Saoirse nor Jules were talking about these things to each other just yet. Saoirse had begun to realise if the Queen and Julianus were in danger, they would have no option but to choose the Queen. It was a situation which had happened before —having to choose between a friend and the Queen— but there had never been any second thoughts about it. The Queen and her safety always came first, because it was the only true stake Saoirse had.

Julianus was different. Julianus was a stake in Saoire’s calculations. Not because it could make them sway from protecting the Queen — nothing could. Instead it was the realisation that they could not protect both of them, at the same time. For someone like them, for whom ‘to love’ meant ‘to protect’, it made them wonder what it meant about them and their love if they failed to do just that. Saoirse had never been in a situation like this before, and its novelty did not bring the excitement of learning.

It just made them feel nervous. It wasn’t a feeling they were used to, nor one they felt comfortable having.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Living as a pirate meant that when it wasn’t your own life being threatened, it was you doing the threatening towards other people’s lives. Perhaps it wasn’t a job requirement, but it was to be expected. It is something which is bound to happen sooner or later when the Pirate Queen of the Salty Seas reserved herself the right to toll ships navigating her waters.

Most ships did not put up a fight, nor got frisky. Some of them, however, did. The last ship Saoirse had pulled over after Meredith giving out the order to do so was such a ship. 

Aside from Jules’ mind compartmentalising the event —locking everything in it’s own box to be opened later, perhaps never— it was going fine. Relatively. Striking a mermaid in the chest with a lightning bolt wasn’t that different from doing the same to a person, and arrow shots weren’t necessarily lethal. Yet, if they did kill their target it wasn’t like their target wasn’t already planning to kill or injure them, or worse, one of their friends.

One way or another, It all went to its box, except perhaps for the weight of how they felt for this crew, that they would threaten someone else’s life — something they never thought they’d do. Some things are that important, they supposed. 

Their swordsmanship had gotten better, so had their archery. They had also been on a steady regime of two hours of magic practice per day since they crossed the Strait of Sirens. three weeks ago. It wasn’t that much time, but it was what they had on them. Practice and dusting off their books on the subject, and the frantic beating of their hearts as they thought ‘I really can’t die here’. The irony wasn’t worth it.

They ran out of arrows. The last of them now rested in the neck of someone who had been approaching Meredith from the back while Saoirse was swinging their maul at the main mast. In another occasion they would’ve stopped to ogle, standing on the fighting top of the ship they were raiding granted them a privileged view. However, the fight was not over yet and they couldn’t stay on their perch and watch.

As their feet met the deck, they noticed someone coming at them with a dagger too late. On instinct they tried to move away, using their arm as a guard between their chest and their face, in hopes to repeal the attack. They did, barely, but their forearm stopped the dagger. 

Out of adrenaline, survival instincts, they didn’t notice the blade hit their skin. Having jumped back and to the side, whatever was happening in front of their face got blurred out. All they registered was something hit them, as they kneed who had attacked them in the gut, and hit them square on the throat with the hand they weren’t using to protect their face. 

They didn’t even notice when they grabbed their sword with their dominant arm — which was the one they had been stabbed on. They just felt a sting of discomfort but didn’t bother to check as they tried to take the dagger from whomever had attacked them as a souvenir. They frowned at the blood on it, but before they could properly register where it had come from, their eyes noticed Saoirse had something between a spear and a harpoon stabbed on their side.

Someone was moving towards them with another one on their hand. Before Jules could think about it, they dropped the dagger and felt electricity zap through their fingers, a steady bolt hitting its target, making Saoirse turn.

“Julie, move out!” They yelled, trying to close the distance between them, but with Meredith still in potential danger, unable to.

Julianus moved just in time to avoid a stab from the same person, yelling back at Saoirse to focus on Meredith, that they were fine. When they tried to charge their sword with a bolt, however, their arm gave in. It felt dead. They noticed the gash from the stab, more of a slash than a puncture, going alongside their ulna bone and moving across the exterior face of their forearm. It bled, and as their arm fell, they felt another punch on their left shoulder. This time they registered the knife stuck to it. So did Saoirse.

Moving to stand in front of Meredith to shield her from anything potentially harming, it wasn’t much more of a fight for anyone after that, as Saoirse’s presence threatened to swallow the raided ship whole.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

There was no way Jules would have regretted what they did in the Strait of Sirens. Ever. It came with lessons and realisations, extra training and a sure way to defend themself if needed. They still got stabbed. Twice. 

They haven’t been sleeping well. The night of the Strait they slept like a log, yet after that night sleep became fickle. It was impossible to tell whether a good night of sleep or a bad night would happen on any given day. They would wake up several times in the middle of the night, sleep fitfully, or dream. There were so many dreams.

Saoirse noticed. Not only the interrupted sleep but the incomplete explanations from Julianus. They looked, felt and acted like there was something else they wanted to say (and they did) but could not say it. Self-censorship and nerves holding whatever it was hostage and tied in a tight knot in Julianus’ throat. 

Fear and the realisation that their fears were not entirely rational, added to the anxiety Saoirse would find them stupid kicked old responses into motion. Saoirse was, after all, an incomprehensibly old entity, and Julianus was only human, 27 and counting. Jules felt like they were between a rock and a very, very hard place. Or like a riptide kept pulling them in, over and over again, no matter how hard they tried getting out. 

Watching someone try to hurt Saoirse made everything settle, even if they were well aware acting unnecessarily defensive towards their partner when they spoke, as well as jumping in between harm and Saoirse, was not a precisely strategic move. Saoirse had nothing to lose out of being physically harmed. However, Julianus knew those weren’t the only ways to harm someone. The image in itself was already shocking, and their brain —a master of overthinking and strikingly quick logical leaps— provided the rest. 

Metaphorically speaking, standing in front of the void as it winked back at them had never been a problem. Julianus knew what Saoirse was. Julianus knew what their job entailed. Perhaps that was the problem. If Saoirse was the Code’s and the Queen’s keeper, then who kept the keeper safe? Julianus would do anything to anticipate that safety. Both as the reluctant Pirate Queen’s legal advisor and as someone who loved Saoirse.

It was too much stress, and things seemed to be going fine. As fine as they could be. More important things were brewing for them to fester on this and bring it to light. Julianus kept quiet, pulling away whenever an opportunity to speak rose up, shutting off.

Saoirse let it go the first day or two. They knew Julianus needed their space to sort things out before talking. However, they weren’t talking, at all. Now, stabbed twice, all of Saoirse’s fears also seemed to have found confirmation. 

Theodore said Julianus was truly lucky that both stabs missed tendons. Especially the one in their right forearm. He said they were also lucky about where it had happened. Taking a stab to the shoulder was infinitely better than doing so to the side and risking a punctured lung. Saoirse knew Theodore was right, but that didn’t make them feel any better.

After Theo healed them and wrapped their wound in bandages, Saoirse had tried talking to J.C. but the result was abysmal. They wanted to know why they would do such a thing, to put themselves at risk for them when they could not get physically hurt. Julianus, tired and in pain, didn’t have an answer for Saoirse. When they nudged them, they barked back that they knew it was stupid. 

They were defensive and their temper was at its peak; Saoirse didn’t understand, nor their own state, nor Julianus’ actions and it made them angry. If Saoirse knew the what and the how, why couldn’t they grasp the ‘why’? Julianus felt miles away from them. An abyss away. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

These humans were supposed to be the waves eroding their cliffside and changing them forever. This human even more so. Yet, Saoirse felt like the ocean had retreated from the shore so deeply into itself, it threatened to never come back.

“Just help me understand why would you do something like that for someone who cannot get hurt. I know sometimes fear is a factor in humans, but I assure you nothing is going to happen to me. I’m not the one who could’ve been stabbed on some vital organ, because I don’t have vital organs.”

Julianus frowned at them, looking somewhere between anguished and overwhelmed. “So fear isn’t a factor for you, ever? You never weigh a situation wrong, you’re never wrong because of fear.”

Saoirse pressed their lips together on a thin line. “It’s not so simple.”

“Because of the Queen?”

“You know I can’t choose.”

“I’m not asking you to choose. Ever. I would never ask you to choose.”

Perhaps that was the problem. They had seen things like this from a distance in the past. One partner would ask for something the other could not give for whatever reason. They would break it off. It seemed easier, simpler. Less entangled than the woven net of thunder blue light and bonfire warmth that Julianus had woven for them. Not because they needed it, but because they wanted to. Saoirse wondered what it would be like to lose one of the islands that conformed Ethari — perhaps like losing a limb felt like to a human. The thought was preferable to the hypothetical scenario than losing the Queen or losing Julianus. Or worse. Both.

“If you’re doing these things I have no way to protect you.”

“I know and as an adult I am responsible for my own actions. Saoirse I’m not asking you to protect— wait a second. So, you get to protect me and be all frowny at me because you realised you can’t protect both me and the Queen, but it’s a silly human thing that I try to protect you.”

“I never said—”

“It was heavily implied, your Deity of Ethari in the Frozen Sea.”

“Jules.”

“Don’t throw your entire incomprehensible presence at me. You know well enough that it doesn’t intimidate you.”

Saoirse threw Julianus a dark look. “I’m not trying to intimidate you. You’re being notoriously stubborn and closed off, I don’t understand you, and it seems to me you don’t understand that this could’ve been worse. You haven’t been sleeping alright, you could’ve lost more blood, you could’ve been stabbed somewhere else—”

“Saoirse I lost a minimum amount of blood.”

“You were stabbed twice, Julie.”

“I’m well aware.”

“I just don’t get it— why would you do—”

“I don’t know, Saoirse! What if you saw someone walk with a harpoon towards me. All I saw was that thing sticking from your side and someone going at you from your back, and I just didn’t see, and I know it’s stupid, and I know I’m stupid because of it and I know I’m human and fallible, and I’m going to die anyway!”

“Julianus, nothing is going to happen to me.”

“That’s not the point, Saoirse!”

“If you and Meredith are in danger, I can’t protect you. If I can’t protect you then what happens, Julie?”

“I already told you I’m not asking you to—”

“How can I wait for you to wake up every day to call you Mo Grhá, and call you Mo Ghrá if I can’t protect you, Julianus. I have never called anyone but the Queen those words.”

Jules' words died in their throat. They stared at Saoirse who for the first time in all those months they had known them looked hurt, at lost, and incredibly lonesome. Lonesome in a way only that which is incredibly old can look. Lonesome in the way mountains were lonesome, or the desert and the sea were lonesome. 

They had never felt a stronger feeling of wrongness. Like the chime of a bell which only grows, repeating the word ‘wrong’ over and over and over again. Saoirse had been open, vulnerable and patient with them, and they had been nothing but snappy and difficult. Sarcastic and impossible, and wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Julianus couldn’t breathe. They were at fault, and they couldn’t breathe.

“Do you— do you need comfort or do you need to be alone?” They heard Saoirse asked. They could only reply with a gesture.

“The latter? Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Saoirse stood on deck, watching the ocean waves rise and plummet. They felt Meredith standing at their side, frowning at the Sea. 

“I don’t wanna know, I don’t want to know that you told Sanlaurento about this, but I think I understand them. Don’t you dare tell them that, but I think I do. I know what it’s like to be at the other end of someone who’s willing to be a stupid shit to protect you, and I know you know this.”

Saoirse didn’t look at her, still watching the waves go high and low. 

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Love doesn’t, Saoirse.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The doorknob of Saoirse’s quarters turned, the door swung open, making them look up from their book. Jules stood by the door after they closed it, staring at Saoirse as they stared at them. Their eyes looked red and puffy, their waterline pink. They looked incredibly tired, and incredibly drained.

Saoirse wasn’t expecting them. At this point, they should’ve known better than being able to always anticipate Julianus. If they could, they wouldn’t mean so much to them. 

“I want to apologise, but I’m going to please ask you to let me explain myself. It’s not an excuse, I don’t want to excuse my behaviour because it’s not excusable. I was standoff-ish for no reason, and I was an asshole too. I shouldn’t have been sarcastic to you when you were worried about me. 

“You worry so much about me, you are so good to me, Saoirse, and the least I can do is apologise, explain myself and wish to be able to return even a portion of the goodness you make happen for me.”

They exhaled, softly, wriggling their fingers as they began to talk. They apologised, and when they explained themself, they told Saoirse everything. From where their reactions came from to their biggest fear: that someone would hurt Saoirse, and Saoirse would be alone and trapped again. Who takes care of them? Who protects them? 

Who will love them like they love, and what if Julianus wasn’t enough? 

“You know? That’s not entirely possible. At most, if a Queen proves unworthy and to have ill-intent, I will get to choose a new Queen in the next Quinquennial meeting. I’ve already had to do it twice — no one who matters.”

“See, you taught me the code, I know this in theory. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me afraid, because I just… feel so much Saoirse, and I thought you’d think it’s stupid.”

Saoirse gave them a sympathetic look. “I don’t think I would be worthy of you if I thought you were stupid. Nor if I thought you weren’t enough.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do stupid things, or that I feel things that aren’t true.”

“True, but that’s not the point.”

When they began this conversation, Julianus was still standing by the door. Now, Julianus was sitting on Saoirse’s lap as they held them, Jules’ face in the crook of Saoirse’s neck. Saoirse was lying back against the headboard and the wall as they combed their fingers through their hair. The gesture had come to Saoirse without asking. To love is to know, and to know Julianus was to love them. 

They pried themself away from Saoirse’s neck to look at them. 

“I don’t love you because you protect me. I love you because you are you, and I know you love me because no matter how much ‘me’ I get, you always seem to be fascinated by it. You don’t judge me or it you value and accept it. I try my best to do good to you because I already love you. I don’t do it as a way to justify my love to you, or hope you will love me back, and you do the same.”

Saoirse looked at them with something akin to wonder. Perhaps it was wonder, perhaps it was love and wonder intertwined. It made Jules want to look away, but they forced themselves not to. 

“And here I was thinking I thought I had human nature figured out.”

“Human nature is malleable matter, Saoirse. Limitation, transcendence and gregariousness are the only things attestable, and I’d argue they’re all the same thing. Human nature is a fallible concept.”

“You’ve never thought of going back to scholarly education for a philosophy degree?”

“I have, but I’m not entirely sure I want to leave this crew yet.”

Saoirse kissed their cheek. “How very lucky for me.”

“Me making you lucky, me being the other recipient of your love. You’re going to make me not fit through doors.”

“That’s not a problem for me. Means I have loved you well.”

“Then I will have to dedicate the rest of my life, or for as long as we have, to love you so well you never, ever forget, not even after I’m gone.”

Saoirse muttered something along the lines of ‘I could never forget you, mo ghrá’ against Julianus hair and the two of them remained silent for a long, long while. 

Eventually, J.C. asked if they were forgiven.

“You already were. Just promise you’ll be careful.” After a pause, Saoirse mimicked their question: “Am I?” 

“I don’t know why you’re asking that, but you are. Just try to remember you’re allowed to just love me.” 

Saoirse promised they will. 

[denqis]

Okay but what about how Kiri, Kami, Suki, & Hanta would use their quirk in the bedroom? If at all. If that’s too many characters, then the first two!

oooooh i like this a lot,

warnings: 18+!!!! (chars aged up) FILTHY SMUT, cursing, bondage, pain play, idk man just smutty smut read at your own risk

kaminari denki

- denki would only use his quirk if you BEG him for it

- not because he likes to at least feel in charge (hah, charge)

- but because he's scared of hurting you

- he'll be buried to the hilt and you're this close to finding your release

- "denki shock me"

- he's ????

- "babe it's dangerous."

- you'll just start grinding against him cause he's frozen in shock tbh

- "denkiiiiii, please."

- shit you're so hot begging him

- so he'll just set a brutal pace again, chasing his high

- and with a smack to your ass he'll come and zap you

- it stings but holy fuck it hurts so good

- you almost scream his name when your orgasm comes crashing down on you

- the electricity just intensifies your orgams

- he usually sparks a bit when he comes down from his high

- which is why you usually never really go all out with after care

- but you licked blood

- it felt too good and you needed more now

- you just took his limpening dick in your mouth and started sucking him off again

- "b-babe?!"

- he tries to stop you by pulling on your hair

- his head falls back and he bites his lip

- he looked so good, sweaty, blushed and all fucked out

- "do it again, sir."

- holy fuck that sent him

- he sends shocks through your whole body, cumming so hard

- you're all tingly and fall back on the bed

- "shit babe are you okay?!"

- he's so scared but when he sees your trembling limbs and his cum dribbling from your chin he almost cums a third time

- "that was incredible."

- you most likely lost a few brain cells and were unable to move or think straight for a while after it but you got addicted

- overstimulated denki = uncontrolled shocks

- he still is super careful about it because he knows the dangers

- he often has to stop you for your own sake

kirishima eijirou

- using his quirk in bed?

- a big no

- he's way too scared to hurt you

- he'd be lying if he hadn't fantasized about it before tho

- you whimpering under him, his hardened finger rubbing circles on your most sensitive parts

- but his hardened body was way too sharp to actually use

- unless y'all are into blood??

- he knows he isn't

- he accidentally hardened his hands while cumming once and he almost put a hole in the wall

- "please, just spank me once, please."

- you're dying to feel red riot's true and raw strength

- he does spank you, with an unhardened hand

- "red riotttt, once."

- using his hero name in bed?

- makes him go feral

- spanks you, once, twice, thrice before he knows what he's doing

- your ass is redder than his hair

- he feels so bad until he feels you clenching around him

- "red riot is so strong."

- he cums on the spot

- "this was a one time thing."

- y'all both know it isn't

- he's mad at you for pushing his boundaries

- he could've hurt you badly and that wouldn't be manly at all

- but it isn't manly to deny your lover's wish either

- he loves it when you ride his thigh and that's the only time he can kind of get away with using his quirk

- except for that one time he ripped through his pants and your nylons and panties

- thank god for his quick reactions and his strength

- he lifted you off his thigh so quick

- he once hardened his dick even more and the condom ripped and he almost tore up your insides

- "see?! i told you."

- is kinda pissed about it, he wants you to always get what you want but what if it's not healthy or safe for you

- makes it up to you by a lot of amazing foreplay and after care

bakugou katsuki

- using his quirk while fucking?

- you mean the absolute daily?

- it's unbelievable how many holes he's burned through your clothes to get easy access

- he's filthy

- spanks get intensified by little explosions

- his orgasm is accompanied by another explosion

- gosh his fingering/hand job game?

- way too strong

- he's too competitive

- makes you cum at least three times every time

- he loves to take you doggy, pull your hair and mark you as his

- little burns instead of hickeys

- is into pain play, he gets off on you moaning in pain and his name

- he spanks you so much

- "you little slut, you always get so tight when you get spanked, tell me how much you love it."

- he's a scary dom

- but he's also so attentive

- he always makes sure to establish a safe word or action for you

- he knows how he can get and ever since you fainted on him once

- he's extra careful

- he lost control while climaxing and sent an explosion right into your face

- another reason why he prefers doggy

sero hanta

- his tape is so multifunctional

- it's great

- ever since your first time together it's been very useful

- like that one time during the training camp and you couldn't leave each other alone

- y'all most definitely had a quickie

- he fucked you against a tree, it was great

- your mouth was taped shut

- rude, he's more vocal than you are

- you let him get away with it because it turns him on so much

- he's very much into voyeur and nature stuff

- you almost got busted by deku but thank god for lunch time

- he tapes your wrists together a lot

- your arms are around his neck with your taped wrists bouncing up and down

- he's VERY KINKY

- most of the times you'll loose feeling in the taped parts

- but he's also vvvv respectful

- if you say no he'll accept immediately and if you complain about his tape being too tight he'll stop immediately

- your wellbeing is top priority

- he loves to create a makeshift sex swing from tape and just pound into you holy fuck

- CHOKES YOU OUT WITH HIS TAPE UGH

- "you look so good with my dick down your throat and my tape around your neck."

(- uses tape as nipple pads and just sends you out for the day without a bra)

- just to fuck you senseless at night

- like i said, kinkyyyy

- tapes you to his bed, spreading your legs

- easy access

- he's so good with his tongue fuuuuu

[sweetfogarty]

Three’s Company (Sweet Pea x Reader; Fangs Fogarty x Reader)

Summary: Sweet Pea has always enjoyed being watched when he gets intimate, but lately he's been wondering what it would be like to do the watching, and so, in the depths of the university library, he watches you have sex with Fangs Fogarty.

Word count: 5.1K+

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+ only.

Author’s note: This was written for @riverdale-events‘ Kink Week 2019, under Theme Three (Across the Universe (of Paraphilias)). Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The university library was quiet and cold, the stark overhead lights enough to give anyone a headache, let alone if they were hours deep in Shakespeare exam revision like you were. Your head was pounding, and as you looked longingly at your three empty coffee cups that adorned the table you were working at with Fangs, you realised the caffeine probably hadn’t helped your throbbing head.

It was late December, and with most students having left to return home for Christmas, you felt like one of the only students still slogging it out ready for your exams when you returned to your studies after the new year rolled in, and you were grateful that Sweet Pea and Fangs had agreed to stay for the extra few days before taking the long drive back to Riverdale with you.

You glanced across the table and caught Fangs’ eyes- he looked just as miserable as you did as he sat with his head against the headrest of his seat, staring at the ceiling. It was getting close to 11pm, and you’d been here since the late morning, telling yourselves that if you worked that bit harder, you could take more time off over Christmas and not feel guilty.

Fangs wasn’t himself after a long day at the library; he had faint dark circles under his eyes and his hair wasn’t styled in its usual quiff, but instead it sat messily across his forehead from running his hand through it in frustration.

You eyed Fangs carefully for a few more moments before slouching back into your seat with a loud sigh.

“You giving up too?” He asked from across the table, tearing his attention away from the ceiling towards your dishevelled form. You nodded reluctantly, pursing your lips together in response, shifting in your seat so that you could lean forward against the table on your elbows. Usually you’d be the two pushing each other to carry on, but right now both of you had resigned yourself to being done for the night. “Good, because I feel like an earthworm and there’s only so much longer I can spend looking at your ugly ass and this textbook before I go certifiably insane.”

You laughed from your chest, flicking your middle finger up at Fangs with a grin. “You wanna know something?” You asked, not caring whether your study partner would say yes or no, having the full intention of telling him anyway. “Firstly, you’re a dickhead. Secondly, this system is complete bullshit. We sit in classes for hours and spend even longer doing homework and making stupid notes on why Juliet is the sun, amongst other shit, for there to be literally no guarantee of a job. To be honest, I played myself, because they say that university ‘opens doors’, but the only damn doors I’m knocking at are all locked.”

Fangs looked at you profoundly, a smile playing at the ends of his lips as you groaned and slumped further against the table. “You need to get laid,” he mused, tidying up his notes and closing his textbook. “Speaking of getting laid, where’s Sweet Pea? Has he decided to ditch us already in search of a better life outside of the library?”

“He’s slacking, clearly,” you laughed with a shrug. “But he did text me half an hour ago saying he was on his way.”

“30 minutes ago?” Fangs asked confusedly, his voice booming in the silence that you’d been sat in. “You can literally see the library from your house, is he lost? Maybe all this studying has killed the last of his brain cells.”

“No, I’m not lost, you asshole,” Sweet Pea replied, appearing between the stacks of books with three coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. “But maybe I’ll keep your coffee for myself now- I need it to replenish all these brain cells I’ve lost listening to your dumbassery.”

“I take it all back,” Fangs grinned, reaching out for his coffee which Sweet Pea pulled just out of his grasp. “Your brain is not completely dead, and there may be some hope left for you. Now, give me my coffee.”

Sweet Pea ducked, placing soft kiss to your forehead before handing you a warm take-away coffee cup. “A hot chocolate for you, because you clearly don’t need any more caffeine, angel,” he nodded towards the ornamental coffee cups with a playful smile. “And Fangs, you’re lucky that this coffee isn’t a gesture of good will, but is in fact a bribe, because I need help with my Macbeth essay.”

Fangs grabbed his coffee, taking a sip and exhaling a satisfied sigh at the taste. Sweet Pea had gone to the good coffee shop a few blocks in the opposite direction from campus, which explained why he was late.

“As much as I’d love to help as a thank you for this, I’ve mentally checked out for the night. I will help you tomorrow though,” Fangs smiled, clutching his coffee a little tighter. “But for now, I don’t want to hear any more talk about education, it’s making my brain ache even more and I want to enjoy this beautiful drink without being reminded of the guilt I’m ignoring about not studying right now.”

“You know, I might just drop out and sell pictures of my feet online,” you mused, sipping from your hot chocolate which was still impressively warm considering the distance Sweet Pea had travelled with it. “Or I’ll start a career on Porn Hub. Porn must be easier than this, and at least I’d have an actual job.”

Fangs snorted into his coffee, whilst Sweet Pea cocked an eyebrow, eyeing you over the brim of his cup with a dark look you knew all too well. “If you ever, and I mean ever, need someone to star in your videos as ‘young stud with a girthy cock’, I’m your man.”

Fangs’ widened eyes flicked between the two of you with a look of concern clearly adorning his face. “That was genuinely the worst thing you’ve ever said, Sweet Pea, I think you’ve put me off my coffee,” he groaned, setting his empty cup down on the table, huffing and crossing his arms over his chest dramatically. “Can you two just go home and bone already? I don’t know if I can do another session in the library tomorrow with this unresolved sexual tension distracting me from the heights of Shakespeare.”

Sweet Pea looked between the pair of you sat at the table. You were doodling in the back of your notebook with your coloured pens that you’d been using to make notes with earlier, and Fangs had regained his original position looking at the ceiling, pondering whether the library life was worth living anymore. The longer he stared, the more his idea seemed plausible and reasonable. Long nights in this dusty, quiet corner of the library surrounded by shelves of books, had zapped the life out of you both, and he wanted his best friends back on their top form for the Christmas festivities that were bound to take place back in Riverdale.

Once, during a game of drunken truth or dare, right at the beginning of your relationship with Sweet Pea during the dating stage, you’d admitted that you’d fantasied about what it would be like to be with Fangs, and Sweet Pea knew Fangs thought you were attractive, so the perfect storm was brewing.

Sweet Pea had always enjoyed the thrill of being watched during sex- you’d found that out when he asked you if you’d be willing to let him fuck you in the window of your dorm room during your first year of college. You’d been hesitant at first, but after some thought you’d agreed. That night was one of the most electric nights you’d ever had, and that night you saw a different side to him that you’d craved ever since.

It was a few weeks later, after some drinks at the Wyrm during the Easter break, that he’d suggested the idea of him watching you with someone else. The idea had come to Sweet Pea one night, and he hadn’t been able to shake it since. You’d been intrigued by the idea of your big brute of a boyfriend stepping aside to let you experiment with someone else for both of yours’ pleasure, considering he was protective at the best of times, and a little jealous at the worst, and so you agreed with little hesitation. If he wanted it as much as you did, you were willing to oblige.

It was now, in the depths of the top story of the library at the quietest time of year, that he saw an opportunity arising.

The library had become even quieter than it was when he’d arrived with the coffees and hot chocolate- nearly all the students were at home with their families and the staff were at the front desk, five floors down, moping about how they were still working so close to Christmas in this godforsaken place. The chances of you getting caught were slim, but the thrill made him want it even more.

It was now or never; an opportunity as golden as this would never arise again, and Sweet Pea hoped that you two were feeling wild enough, in your library haze, to agree.

“Guys,” he swallowed, pausing momentarily as he waited for your attention. “You both need a study break, right? I’ve got an idea, but you both have to trust me on this.”

“I trust you.” You smiled, putting the caps back on your pens as you sat up a little in your chair, interested at what was going through Sweet Pea’s head.

“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you, you fat lard, but I can feel myself getting closer to death with every second I spend in this chair, so I’ll bite,” Fangs shrugged, knitting his hands in his lap, though both of the knew that he trusted Sweet Pea with his life.

Sweet Pea laughed dryly as he took your hand and squeezed it gently. He was nervous to even present the idea to the two of you, and even more nervous to hear your reactions to it, but he knew he had to be confident to get you to agree. After finally steeling his resolve, he stood and made his way towards the corner of the library that held the old Law Reports from the 1800s. It was a corner that was not only notoriously quiet, but it was also out of the view of the CCTV cameras that were dotted across the ceiling, making timed rotations to ensure that students weren’t doing the exact thing Sweet Pea was about to propose.

“Why are we going over there?” Fangs asked loudly, causing Sweet Pea to whip his head around and shh him with a glare. “All this dust is going to send me into an asthma attack, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s asbestos over here ready to give me lung disease.”

The library lights weren’t as bright over in the farthest corner of the library, blocked out by the ceiling high bookshelves, the majority of the light came in through the windows from the streetlights a few floors below. The yellowish hue made the boys’ skin look like caramel, but also highlighted the dust and cobwebs that covered the untouched, cloth bound books.

“He has a point, Sweet Pea,” you whispered as you came to a halt in a corner you were unfamiliar with, dragging your finger across a shelf before blowing the dust off the tip. “What are we doing over here? I thought you were giving us a study break, not a tour of the library.”

Sweet Pea paused, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Do you remember what we talked about over Easter?” He asked, placing a hand on your hip as he waited for a response. When you stared at him blankly, he sighed before continuing. “I said I wanted to watch.”

A grin spread across Sweet Pea’s face as you realised what he was referencing, and you almost choked on your words trying to comprehend his offer. “You want to watch, now? Here?” You asked. “With who? Fangs?”

“Wait, what are we doing right now with Fangs?” the shorter Serpent asked, looking between the two of you, his eyebrows furrowing. “What are you watching? What’s happening here? Why are we speaking in code?”

“Fangs be quiet for a second, please,” you told him. He held up his hands and turned his attention to Volume One of the 1876 American Law Reports, busying himself whilst you tried to work out what was going through Sweet Pea’s mind. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” Sweet Pea nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen into your face. “There’s never going to be another opportunity like this, we both know it, doll. Do you still want to try?”

“Well, yeah,” you nodded enthusiastically, peeking over Sweet Pea’s shoulder at Fangs who was surprisingly engrossed in an ancient looking book. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

Fangs snapped his book shut, sliding it back into the lonely alcove before brushing his hands off, sending dust into the air around him. “If you’re okay with what, Sweet Pea?”

“You fucking my girlfriend.”

Fangs swallowed, blinking dazedly and fiddling nervously with the rings on his fingers as he rocked back and forth on his feet, wishing he’d never asked. “I don’t want to sleep with you,” he started, turning his attention to you, but fumbling over his words when he saw a slightly offended expression take over your usually kind face. “I mean I do. I mean… oh god I don’t know what I mean.” He ran his hands through hair, chewing on his lip awkwardly. Once he finally noticed the two of you grinning at him with a glint in your eyes that was anything but innocent, his heart stopped hammering as fast and he dropped his hands to his sides, a warmth spreading across his skin. “You’re gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but you’re Sweet Pea’s girlfriend and I’m not gonna do him dirty like that. I may be a snake by name, but not by nature.”

“But it’s not doing him dirty because we bothwant it,” you smiled, placing a hand on Sweet Pea’s chest as he snaked one around your waist, squeezing you tightly into his side. You gave Fangs an encouraging smile, softening your gaze to something more sultry. “Please Fangs, just say yes. For me?”

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Fogarty, we both know I’m not a sharer, so this is it. She wants you, you definitely want her too, and I’m playing nice- it’s a no brainer.”

Fangs studied you two for a moment, arm in arm, staring at him with a hopeful look in your eyes, as he tried to make sure that you weren’t playing some kind of elaborate prank on him, before he sucked up his confidence and answered you.

“Okay, okay, I’m in.”

A wide grin wove over Sweet Pea’s features as he detangled his arm from your form, turning you to face him in the process. He ducked his head down, kissing you softly with a hand on your cheek. “Keep it quiet- we don’t want anyone up here knowing what’s going on and ratting on us to security. I want this to last,” he reminded you with a hungry smile, gently pushing you towards Fangs with a slap to the ass. He settled a few feet away, leaning against the windowsill with his back and elbows, legs crossed lazily beneath him.

You knew Fangs wouldn’t make the first move, out of respect for Sweet Pea and their friendship, as well as his friendship with you, and so slowly you approached him. Something was different now; the air was thicker, hotter and full of an unspoken tension. After a few steps, you were face to face with the boy you knew so well, and he looked divine. “Can I touch you?”

Fangs nodded, a softened but excited look adorning his face. “Please.”

Goosebumps prickled up your arms as you snaked them around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair like second nature. You knew there was a chance of you being caught, despite the fact that the library looked like a ghost town and that you were buried deep in the shelves, and the thrill sent a warmth between your legs. Despite the danger you wanted to savour the first few moments of this new experience and so your touches were soft and gentle, as if it was forbidden.

“You can touch me too,” you smiled, scratching his head in a spot that made him purr. “I’d like it if you did.”

Fangs threw a glance towards Sweet Pea, an unspoken look exchanged between them before he carefully settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them and pulling you closer to him. You let out a content sigh, pushing yourself against him as he dipped his head, stopping when there was a hair’s breadth between your lips.

You took a few moments to simply look at each other as his breath fanned across your face and he tried his hardest to hold back before he knew he wouldn’t be able to anymore. His honey-eyed look of adoration made the pit of your stomach stir, but the longer he stared, the darker his gaze got, and finally the stir in your stomach turned into a growing warmth between your legs.

He traced your jaw gently from your ear to your chin with the tips of his fingers, following the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb. With a fervency that almost knocked the air out of your lungs, he kissed you, clutching at your cheek with one hand whilst the other snaked around your lower back, hand creeping under your top and stilling, splay against the warm skin. Your back arched with the curve of his hand, feeling a warmth bubbling within you as you stood, your frame flush against Fangs’ muscular form.

Sweet Pea watched carefully as the kiss took place, noticing how your fingers tugged at Fangs’ hair and how he melted against you as you did so. He shifted against the windowsill, trying to get a better look as your chests pressed together and your hands dropped from Fangs’ hair, to his neck and shoulders. You let out a whimper as his hands moved to your ass, skimming all the curves of your body down on the way and squeezing it through your skirt. Sweet Pea grinned in response, his bottom lip coming between his teeth as he adjusted himself in his jeans, pleased that Fangs was finally getting into his stride.

“Touch me more,” you mumbled against the column of Fangs’ throat as you pulled away to catch your breath. “I want you to touch me.”

“Touch her,” Sweet Pea interjected from where he was stood with an eyebrow raised. “We’re in public, so we’re on borrowed time.”

With that in mind, Fangs found some determination to take control of the situation. He dipped his hand downwards and beneath your skirt, pushing the material of your lavender coloured panties aside to rub your clit with the tip of his pointer finger. The grin on Sweet Pea’s face widened as your knees buckled beneath you and you clung to Fangs’ shoulders to hold yourself upright.

“Holy shit,” you moaned quietly, letting your head fall back and your mouth hang open. Fangs’ lips attached to the newly exposed skin, leaving wet kisses along your throat. You felt him smile against your skin as he elicited another whine from you, the high-pitched noise coming out louder than any of the other noises you’d made before.

Fangs’ hand came across your mouth as he kissed up your throat, leaving purpling marks as he did so. Fangs sucked forcefully on your pulse point and nipped at the skin above the vein, making you buck against him involuntarily as you writhed in his grasp. Your arms erupted in goose bumps and your toes curled inside your shoes, another whimper finding its way out of you, but this time caught by Fangs’ hand across your mouth. “Be quiet, princess,” he told you as he nipped at your ear. “Or this whole thing is over, and I’ll leave you wondering what I could have done to you.”

You nodded keenly and pushed yourself into his fingertips on your clit, your own hands reaching down to fumble with his belt and jeans.

Sweet Pea stepped a little closer as Fangs pressed you up against the windowsill, fisting your skirt into a bunch up around your hips, his lips reconnecting with yours in a bruising kiss. You dragged your fingers down Fangs’ arms, following the curve of his biceps, your gaze dropping downwards when he removed his fingers from your clit. Your eyes scrunched tightly shut as he slipped two fingers into your opening, his thumb replacing where his finger was before, rubbing lazy circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Take your shirt off,” he murmured against your lips with a commanding tone in his voice, pausing for a brief moment with a grin twisting at his lips when he saw your eyes widen. “Or are you too scared we’ll get caught?”

You shot him a defiant look, glancing over at Sweet Pea who was watching you with a look that was filled with mirth and an interest to see whether you would comply with Fangs’ challenge.

You shot him a wink before you pulled your top off, revealing a lacy lavender bra that matched your panties. You pushed up onto your toes, bringing the swell of your chest up towards Fangs’ face, a playful look in your eyes as your hands cupped your breasts.

“Like what you see?” You asked, with a purposeful lust in your voice, lips pouty and eyes innocent.

Fangs hummed in agreement, using his free hand to pull the straps off your shoulders and the cups down. He ducked his head downwards, taking a nipple in his mouth as he sucked, his tongue rolling across it and his teeth gently biting at the sensitive bud. Fangs looked up at you through his thick, black eyelashes, curling his fingers inside of you, a dirty look engulfing his face as you let out a strangled whine and a blush flushed across your chest and neck, settling onto your cheeks.

“Fuck, Fangs,” you moaned through gritted teeth, trying your hardest to stay quiet as your fingers threaded through his hair, brushing the stands that had fallen into his face away. “Take your trousers off, please.”

With his free hand, he pushed down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his cock, you hand immediately running down his chest and taking it into your grasp, rolling your thumb over the tip, eliciting a hiss from him. Slowly, you began to stoke him, watching as his face contorted into something filled with ecstasy and he groaned against your chest, sending a bolt of electricity straight to where his fingers were fucking you.

He pulled his lips away from your breast with a lewd pop, standing back up to full height, thrusting into your hands, frustrated at how agonisingly slowly you were stroking him. Fangs’ forehead dropped against your shoulder as he pressed butterfly kisses to your collarbones, whispering profanities against the rosy skin. Between his hand working between your legs and the kisses against your sensitive skin, you could feel a knot forming in your stomach with both ends of the rope being pulled, ready for it to come loose all at once.

“Fangs,” you whispered breathlessly into his ear, causing him to shudder. “Pull your trousers down some more, or are you too scared we’ll get caught?”

Fangs’ head snapped up, his gaze meeting yours, a challenging look weaving its way across your face as your head dropped to the side, waiting for his next move. “Touché, your wish is my command, angel.”

You whined at the loss of contact as Fangs removed his hands to pull his trousers and boxers down further, clenching your thighs together to try to emulate the sensation, but it was nothing compared to the magic that had been coming from his fingers.

Confusedly, Fangs’ attention was drawn away from you as he felt a tap on his arm, looking around to see Sweet Pea holding out a neat foil packet. He nodded in thanks, shooting his best friend a smile as he rolled the packet between his fingers.

Sweet Pea stepped back, nodding back at Fangs in response, returning to his spot at the windowsill a few panes up from the window you were at. His demeanour was relaxed as he leaned against the wood of the window frame, his tongue caught between his teeth in anticipation of what was to come.

Fangs didn’t want to rush the moment, and had you been in private he would have done all sorts of nasty things to you that he knew would make you weak at the knees, but he was acutely aware that you were in public and that with every second that passed, the more likely it was that security would sweep the floor and discover the two of you wrapped up in each other with Sweet Pea watching, so, as you pressed butterfly kisses to the column of his throat, he rolled the latex condom down the length of his cock that was thick with lust.

As Fangs guided his cock between your legs, you met Sweet Pea’s gaze over his shoulders, both of your eyes pooling with lust. His bottom lip was sore and swollen from biting it as he watched you, and you could clearly see the bulge in his trousers, pushing against the jeans and tenting the material. He was clearly aching to be touched, and you knew that after this was over with Fangs, your night would continue with Sweet Pea. The smirk on his lips confirmed your thoughts and you moaned into Fangs’ shoulder at the thought of it, your hands weaving around his wide back, ready for what was to come.

“Fuck me Fangs,” you whispered, your breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “I know you’ve thought about what it would be like, so fuck me.”

A groan rumbled from the deepest part of Fangs’ chest in response. You were right- he’d thought about it late at night before, wondering what it would be like to find himself between your thighs, to hear his name rolling off your lips like silk, and now it was finally a reality. He knew he shouldn’t think about it, but there was something so enticing about you. You were the forbidden fruit, and he wanted a taste so badly.

With his cock at your entrance, he slowly sunk in, wanting to remember what that moment felt like forever, but his thoughts quickly vanished into nothing and he could only focus on how tight and warm you felt around him. He stilled for a few moments, breathing deeply as he attempted to control himself from ravaging you there and then, before beginning to thrust at a controlled pace.

His hand dipped downwards, fingertips working small, neat circles on your clit quickly as he thrusted, watching your face become a picture of bliss. With one hand on his back and the other splay against the glass, you pulled him against you tightly, wrapping a leg up and around his waist to steady yourself and let him get closer. You wanted to feel as much as of him as you could, in case you never got the chance to again.

Fangs’ free hand came around your throat, squeezing a perfect amount of pressure, thumb and fingertip curving upwards to press into the pressure point just behind your ears, dizzying you in way that made every movement he was making feel so much more intense, the sensation electrifying every nerve in your body.

Fangs’ thrusts began to pick up speed as he felt himself grow needy, chasing a release, his muscles tensing beneath your hands every time he thrusted into you, each one becoming more bruising and intense than the last.

The exhilaration of getting caught by security or being seen through the window along with Fangs’ movements overwhelmed your senses, and you could feel yourself come undone as you met Sweet Pea’s gaze over Fangs’ shoulder through your hooded eyes, your nails leaving crescent moons in Fangs’ caramel silk skin and your knees buckling beneath you.

You kept your eyes locked onto him as you came, and he cursed under his breath, running one hand through his hair whilst adjusting his jeans with the other, the material feeling increasingly tight as he cock grew thicker with every second that he had to watch. In that moment, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to come over and intervene, wanting to have his way with you too, but he remained leaning against the windowsill, waiting for Fangs to finish before he approached.

It didn’t take long before Fangs joined you in ecstasy, his chest heaving, and hair matted against his forehead which glistened with afterglow.

After a few moments, Fangs pulled out, knotting the condom before pulling up his trousers and handing you your top. It was quiet between the three of you, and before he could step away, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips as a thank you.

Sweet Pea’s approach had been almost silent and unnoticed by the pair of you. He placed a hand on Fangs’ shoulder, shaking him in a brotherly manner with a smile twisting at his tips, before pulling you in for a heated kiss which left you feeling breathless.

“I really fucking liked it,” he mumbled against you lips, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his bulge. “That was unbelievable, holy shit.” Sweet Pea let out a rumble of a groan as you squeezed his bulge, his eyes darkening and his gaze becoming something dangerous. “If you’re finished studying for the night, we can go back to my place. My roommate won’t mind, hell, after that, he might even join in.”

Fangs’ head snapped up at the inference, his cheeks flushed and skin looking like honeyed in the light. “Fuck yeah he won’t mind.”